News of the sudden and tragic death of Drs. Scott and Laura Graham hit the communities where they lived and worked with the same impact as a natural disaster. What they lacked in relatives was compensated for with "patients, students, and colleagues.

Detective Hillman portrayed the accident as just that and requested that the reception after the service be held at the funeral hall, since he and several officers would be monitoring the large crowd.

"What exactly will you be looking for?" Grace asked.

"I'm not sure. Besides a blue compact which I don't think will show up, we'll be looking at anyone who stays in the background or displays odd behavior." He smiled at her with the tolerance adults show an inquisitive child. "One thing is for sure, if your sister and brother-in-law's deaths weren't a random act of road rage, there's a likelihood that the person or persons responsible could show up at the service. I don't want to take a chance on inviting them into your home. That's why the reception should be held at the funeral hall."

The church service was long and the drive to the cemetery seemed to take forever. Grace, Michael, and Alex went together. Jessie and Charlie stayed at home with Rosa, later going with her to the reception.

~~~~~

The crowd was immense. There were people from all walks of life, professional and blue collar, young and old, close friends and acquaintances. It appeared to Detective Hillman that the Grahams had touched, influenced, and changed many people's lives. Maybe he thought – the wrong people. Much to his disappointment, his only witness to who these people were and how they related to the Grahams, rested in the memory of a traumatized nine-year-old.

He stayed close to Alex asking her questions about several people in attendance. Unfortunately, the Grahams kept their professional lives separate from their family. What she knew was too vague and sketchy to be of much help. He asked her about the note she had overheard her mom telling her dad about. Just as he thought, the conversation was only partially heard and more than likely misinterpreted. Alex hadn't seen the note her mother mentioned and she didn't know where it had ended up.

~~~~~

An exhausted group arrived back at the house after the funeral service and reception. They entered the foyer with Grace carrying a sleeping Charlie, Michael toting a groggy Jessie, and Rosa leading a blurry eyed Alex.

Too tired to walk the distance to the kitchen, Michael and Grace laid their burdens down on the living room sofas and they collapsed in the wing chairs that completed the grouping. Rosa instinctively headed for the kitchen where soon the funeral home would be delivering tons of leftover food. Alex slowly mounted the stairs to her room and much-needed solitude.

Rosa left after dealing with all the platters and bowls of buffet food. Fortunately, the large side by side refrigerator/freezer in the kitchen had a twin in the garage. There wouldn't be any need to cook for several weeks she thought. The girls were in bed and asleep by 8:00 pm. Grace and Michael came to an agreement that he would stay in the downstairs guest room until everything calmed back to normal surrounding the accident.

Taking a long bath, Grace soaked away the stress and tension of the day. With the funeral over, she must now start figuring out what she was going to do, and that meant a few hard decisions. She wanted to get some much-needed sleep first. Tomorrow, she told herself. I'll start making plans tomorrow.

The partly cloudy day had been cool and breezy. Luckily it hadn't rained at the cemetery. Now as night pressed in against the windows, the wind picked up, moaning as it rounded the angular sections of the house. Sheets of icy rain began to wash against the outside walls. Grace cuddled under the down comforter and quickly fell asleep.

~~~~~

Alex had been dreaming about her mother. In her dream, Laura was standing in the entry hall holding something in her closed fist. She looked upset. She was pale and her hair was in disarray.

Alex approached her from the kitchen asking, "What's wrong, Mom?"

Suddenly Laura turned and yelled at her. "It's him! That's what's wrong!"

Then it wasn't her mom anymore, it was her Aunt Grace. She was yelling too. "Help me!" she screamed, "Can't you stop him?"