Silver Candlesticks

This story is purely a work of fiction. Any resemblance to person's living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely coincidental.

The author claims all copyrights to this story and no duplication or publication of this story is allowed, except by the web sites to which it has been posted, without the consent of the author.

All of us enjoy the stories here, so please, support Nifty. Like any other Business, it takes resources to keep it running.

I appreciate you, and I know Nifty appreciates your support!

Mark Stevens

I would like to welcome my previous as well as hopefully new readers back to enjoy this story. However, should you have not read any of the Porterville books before, you should do so

1. Porterville 2. Murder in Porterville 3. Silver Candlesticks

All three stories are stand alone, however, a lot of the same characters from the first book return for more adventures.

To my old readers: Welcome back. To my new ones, welcome aboard.

Please feel free to write me with any thought you might have. Please keep comments positive. I already have an editor that keeps me walking the line. Ha ha. You can email me at:

jetdesk2@yahoo.com

Chapter Twenty-Six

Britt hurried inside the police department and greeted Alesha Gray, saying, "Is the man in?"

Alesha assured Britt that Brian was indeed in his office. She raised the counter and invited him to walk through. "Just go on back, Britt," she said giving him a smile.

Britt made his way down the long hallway and stopped at Brian's door. He knocked lightly and waited.

Brian looked up from his desk. "Hey, Britt. Come in," the police chief invited.

"Have you talked with Cory?" Britt asked as he entered the office and took a seat.

"Not since this morning," Brian answered. "Is something going on?"

"I hate to steal Cory's thunder. I thought he would be here by now. He called and told me he thought he had discovered something interesting this afternoon."

Britt continued, "For whatever reason he decided to see if he could locate where LaDonna Fields lives. Well, he located her house and discovered Nathan Brown there."

A puzzled look appeared on Brian's face. "And this is interesting how?"

"It may mean nothing at all," Britt said. "However, after talking with Cory, I gave Sam a telephone call down at the Beacon. He told me that Nathan began working at the paper about two weeks before you and Alice were married. LaDonna told me a few days after your wedding that she had been working for Kathy six weeks."

"Tell me, Britt, do you honestly think there might be a connection between these two and Jacob Crawley's murder?"

Britt shook his head and said, "There could be a connection. It also could have nothing at all to do with the case. The two could be friends, or even related to each other. It's possible that LaDonna came to town first and Nathan followed a few weeks later."

Brian shook his head and said, "Still, you and I both know that things sometimes mean more than they appear. I think I will have a talk with Nathan Brown. Depending on what he has to say, I'll have another talk with LaDonna."

Britt waited around the station for a few minutes longer hoping to catch up with Cory. Half an hour later the detective had yet to appear.

"I guess I'll head out," Britt told Brian. "I really thought Cory would have showed up by now."

"Something must have come up," Brian said. He stood to his feet and said, "I'll head over to the newspaper and see if I can catch Brown. It's getting late in the day, and I want to catch him before he leaves."

"Alright," Britt said. "I'll go see if I can locate Cory. I'll get back with you later."

Britt walked out to his car and got behind the wheel. Before leaving, he gave Cory a call. The detective didn't answer. Instead, his voicemail kicked in.

Britt left a message saying he had talked with Brian and told the chief about the photographer coming out of LaDonna Field's house. He asked Cory to give him a call.

Britt drove down to the square and made the round, searching for the detective or his car. He found neither and decided to head home for the day. He would have to wait and have his chat with the detective when Cory arrived at the cabin.

When Britt arrived at the cabin, he pulled up beside Jerry Poteet's car. He hurried inside and called out, "Hey, Jerry."

Jerry joined Britt in the entryway. "I thought perhaps you were lost," he greeted.

"No, just a couple of things popped up before I had the chance to come home."

"I'm all ears," Jerry said.

"Alright. First, though, I could use a beer. How about you?"

When Jerry gave a nod, Britt hurried out to the kitchen and soon returned with two bottles of beer. He handed one to Jerry.

The two men took seats in the living room, and Britt asked about Cory.

"Have you seen him this afternoon?" Britt asked.

"Not since this morning," Brian's dad answered.

"He called me this afternoon and gave me some information. For some reason he decided to look up where LaDonna Fields lives. When he found her house, he saw Nathan Brown there. The photographer came out of the woman's house and left in his car."

"Really now?" Jerry's took on a puzzled look. "I wonder what that is about."

Britt shook his head and said, "I honestly don't know if it means anything at all. Cory told me he was going to the station and tell Brian his discovery. However, by the time I saw Brian, Cory had yet to appear."

"How much time had passed between your call with Cory and your visit with Brian?"

Britt thought for a moment. "Half hour maybe. Forty-five minutes at most."

"He must have had something else turn up," Jerry commented.

"It's possible," Britt agreed. "However, when he was talking with me, his plan was to go straight to the station and chat with Brian."

"That does seem strange." A serious look appeared on Jerry's face. "You think we should go look for him?"

"I drove all over town and didn't see his car anywhere," Britt replied.

Jerry eyed the clock on the wall above the fireplace. "Let's wait a little longer before we do anything."

The two men were discussing their day when Devon arrived home. Britt greeted the man with a smile and said, "Hey, you. How was your day?"

Devon walked over to Britt's chair and gave the man a kiss. Then giving Jerry a smile, he said, "The usual stuff. The last week of the month is always busy for me at the plant."

Britt stood to his feet. "Jerry and I have already had a beer. Would you care for one?"

Devon said that sounded good to him, and Britt disappeared through the kitchen door. He soon returned with a cold bottle and handed it to his lover.

"Thanks," Devon said. "Now, I want to hear about your afternoon." Devon addressed both men.

When Britt and Jerry were finished, Devon said, "Speaking of Cory, where is he?"

"We're not sure," Britt answered as he looked at the clock. "It's been almost an hour, Jerry. You think maybe we should see if we can find him?"

"Normally I wouldn't worry," Jerry said. "However, since there has already been one incident threatening Cory's life, it probably would be wise to search for him."

"What can I do to help?" Devon asked.

It was Britt who answered. "Jerry and I can look for him. Why don't you stay here? That way, should he come home, you can give us a call."

Devon walked to the door with them. "Sounds good. I can manage that."

Once they were in the car, Britt turned to Jerry and asked, "Any idea where to begin?"

"Why don't we start by returning to town? We can drive around and look for his car. After all, it's quite possible that we'll discover him going around town. If Cory's one thing, he's diligent. The man will not stop until he has all of the answers."

Britt drove them back in town, and they began their search for the detective. They circled the town square, but Cory's car was nowhere in sight. They drove around town, but everywhere they looked, there was no sign of their friend's car.

"This has me puzzled," Jerry said. "It's not like Cory to just disappear like this."

"I would have to agree with you," Britt declared.

Britt drove them back to the downtown area. When they reached the square once more, he suddenly pulled into a parking spot in front of Kathy Applebee's shop.

"Looks like Kathy is still working," Britt said shutting the car's engine off. "Let's give her a visit."

Britt opened the door and entered Kathy's shop. The woman was rearranging some pastries in one of the glass counters. She greeted the two men with a smile.

"What's going on with you guys?" she asked.

Britt asked the woman if she had seen Cory recently.

Shaking her head, Kathy said, "Not since this morning when I returned him the form he needed notarized."

"That was when exactly?" Jerry asked.

"Around eleven o'clock I believe. Is something wrong?"

Britt shook his head. "We're not sure. I hope not. I talked with him around midafternoon. We haven't heard from him since then."

"Do you know if the form he faxed has returned?" Kathy asked.

"No," Britt answered. "When I saw Brian this afternoon, he didn't mention anything. It may take a---"

The door to Kathy's shop opened, causing Britt to pause. Brian shut the door behind him.

"Well, this is an unexpected surprise," Brian greeted. "I thought I was the only one working late this evening."

"We had a couple of questions to ask Kathy," Britt informed the chief."

"I see." Brian turned his attention to Kathy and said, "I wanted you to know I just received the fax back from the medical clinic in Rogers. It backed up your story about having had polio as a child. "I'm really sorry we had to intrude on your personal business, Miss Applebee."

"No worry at all," Kathy hastened to assure the chief. "It's perfectly understandable. And please, call me Kathy."

"All the same, I do apologize, Kathy. Thank you for being cooperative."

Britt was about to follow the other two men out the door when he remembered his reason for dropping in Kathy's shop. He turned around and walked back to the counter.

"Kathy, I almost forgot the reason I came in. Do you have LaDonna's address?"

Kathy was surprised. "Why, yes, I do. May I ask why you need it?"

Before Britt answered the woman's question, he asked another one. "Do you know if she knows Nathan Brown?"

"At Alice's wedding she told me the two of them had grown up together and had always been good friends. After she began working for me, she heard that Sam was wanting to hire a photographer and let Nathan know about the job opportunity."

"I see. Thanks, Kathy. Now, what about her address. May I have it?"

When Kathy appeared to hesitate, Britt asked her if she would be more comfortable giving it to Brian. She assured him it wasn't a problem and soon returned with the information Britt was seeking.

"Thanks, Kathy," Britt said taking the piece of paper from her.

Britt joined Brian and his father outside the bakery.

"What's up?" Brian asked. "Dad's told me about Cory. Do you think he's in trouble?"

Britt shrugged his shoulders and said, "I really don't know. When I talked with him this afternoon, his intention was to drop by and see you, Brian. That's why I was a little surprised when I reached your office before he did."

"And giving the fact that he's already had one threat against his life, we both thought we should look for him."

"You're probably right," the police chief agreed. "Any idea where to start?"

Britt showed the man the paper he held in his hand. "I thought we should give LaDonna Fields a visit. That was Cory's location when I talked with him."

"Let's go," Brian said. "You guys can ride with me."

Britt handed him the paper with the woman's address, and they were on their way.

When Brian pulled up in front of LaDonna's home, the three men walked up to the door. On the way Brian told them he would take the lead.

Britt watched as Brian rang the doorbell. The door opened almost immediately.

Standing in the opened doorway, LaDonna Fields greeted them with a simple "Yes?"

"Sorry to drop by, Miss Fields," Brian said by way of greeting.

"Yes?" the woman repeated.

"Do you know a Nathan Brown?" Brian questioned.

Britt thought he saw a guarded look appear on LaDonna's face. Then it quickly disappeared.

"I do," she answered. "He's a friend."

"Might I ask how you know Mr. Brown?" Brian continued with his questioning.

The guarded look appeared once again but quickly disappeared. "We became friends as children, and have remained friends through adulthood."

"Where was that?" Brian asked. "Where did you live while growing up?" he added.

A slight pause and then, "Fayetteville."

"I see. Miss Fields, may we come in for a moment. I have a couple more questions to ask. It's hot out here, and I don't want to cause your house to heat up because of me standing in the doorway."

A full minute passed before LaDonna finally opened the storm door, allowing the three men to step inside her home.

As they took seats in the woman's living room, Brian asked, "If I may ask, why did you choose to live in Porterville? Fayetteville is a much larger town. I would have thought you could find a better paying job there. Definitely better possibility, I would think."

"The answer is a simple one," LaDonna answered. "Yes, Fayetteville is larger than Porterville. I was ready for a simpler, even slower pace of life. When I decided to leave Fayetteville, I took several small trips, driving around and inspecting the countryside. The first time I drove through Porterville, I decided it was the place for me. Before leaving town, I saw the sign in Kathy's shop window advertising for help. I talked with her, and she hired me on the spot. I returned to Fayetteville, packed my things up and moved here almost immediately."

Brian continued, "I suppose you are the reason for Mr. Brown coming to Porterville?"

LaDonna gave a nod and said, "Yes, I am. Not long after I moved here, I went to the newspaper office for Kathy. She wanted me to give Mr. Taylor her ad for the paper. There was a sign in the window advertising for a photographer. I knew Nathan was looking to relocate. I gave him a call, and he came the next day and spoke with Mr. Taylor. He was hired and went to work almost immediately."

"I see." Brian stood to his feet, and Britt and Jerry followed suit.

"Thank you for your time, Miss Fields."

Just as he reached the door, Brian turned around and asked, "Do you by any chance know where Nathan is? I have a couple of questions for him."

"I'm—I'm not certain where he is. I haven't seen him since early this morning."

Britt spoke up, asking, "You wouldn't happen to have his address?"

LaDonna's face suddenly turned red. She said, "He's been staying here until he can find a place of his own."

"I see," Britt said.

LaDonna quickly jumped in, saying, "It's not what you think, Mr. Williams. Nathan and I are just friends. Nothing else."

"Oh, I'm not judging you in any way," Britt hastened to assure the woman.

Brian handed the woman a card. "When you see Mr. Brown, would you please ask him to give me a call?"

LaDonna took the card. "I will."

Brian thanked her for her time, and the men returned to Brian's car.

"What do you think?" Brian asked once they were inside.

"The woman was definitely hiding something," Jerry said.

"I agree," Britt replied. "There were several times when I felt she was trying to watch very carefully the way she answered your questions."

"I believe you both are right," Brian said.

Britt and Jerry were in the act of leaving Brian's vehicle for Britt's car when Brian's cell rang. They listened to the one sided conversation, becoming concerned by Brian's words. Both were anxious for the conversation to end. Finally it did.

Ending his telephone conversation, Brian said, "That was Pete Nelson," he explained.

Peter Nelson was a fairly new officer on Brian's staff.

Brian said, "Pete was making his usual run out by the lake to check things out. I'm afraid that he's found Cory's car for us. Get back in the car, and we'll go check it out."

"No, we'll follow in my car," Britt told the chief. "That way we'll each have our car in case we need to head out in different directions."

Cory Manners had become a good friend to both Britt and Jerry, and the short mile out to the lake seemed ten times the distance. When they reached the lake, Britt followed Brian to the far end of the lake where he not only saw Cory Manners' car, but a police cruiser as well. Peter Nelson was leaning against the police car. When the other two cars pulled up, the officer walked over to greet them.

"What do you have?" Brian asked his officer.

"Not much," Pete answered. "The car definitely belongs to Cory Manners. I pulled the information up on the computer. However, the car is clean as a whistle. No hint at all about Manners or where he might be. Before I called you, I searched around the lake, but there is no sign of anyone being out here."

"Damn, this looks bad," Jerry whispered to Britt.

Britt swallowed hard. He hated to admit it, but he knew that Brian's dad was right. It did look bad.

"You say you searched all around the lake," Brian asked the officer.

"All around here," Nelson answered. "I haven't made it back to the front side yet. I really thought if he was going to be around here, it would back here where his car is located."

Britt hurried over to Cory's car. He found that it wasn't locked. He opened the door on the driver side and reached for a button. The trunk lid popped open. Britt hurried to the back and opened the lid wider. Looking inside, he saw that the storage area was clean as well.

"At least we know he wasn't locked in the trunk," Britt explained his action.

Nelson admitted he had already checked for the same reason.

"Let's search the rest of the area, and then we'll decide what to do next," Brian decided.

Porterville lake wasn't large, and an hour later their search was over. Nothing was discovered, and they still didn't have any idea where Cory could be.

Brian suggested they go home for the time being, adding, "Alice doesn't have a clue where I am. I don't want to cause her to worry. I'll get back with you a little later."

Britt drove him and Jerry back to the cabin. It was a short drive and neither of them spoke. When Britt pulled into the drive, he parked beside Jerry's car. Shutting the engine off, Britt suddenly slammed his fist on the steering wheel.

"Damn't," he exclaimed. "How the hell could I let this happen a second time? Goddamn't!"

Jerry Poteet quietly placed a hand on Britt's shoulder. "Britt, do not blame yourself. You are not responsible for Cory's actions. The man's a detective, for God's sake. His job is taking chances. I've told you before that he is very thorough in his job. That's what makes him good at what he does."

"Perhaps you're right, Jerry. Still, I can't help but feel responsible. If I hadn't been working on the damned book, I might have spent the afternoon with him."

"Well, you can play the should of, would of, could of game all night long, but it won't help us find him. We just need to put our heads together and think the way Cory would."

The door to the cabin opened, and Devon came out to the car to meet them. He walked over to the driver's side and opened the door.

"Any news?" Devon asked.

Standing to his feet, Britt pulled Devon to him. He hugged him and stepped back. "We found his car out by the lake," Britt answered. "No sign of Cory," he added.

"I'm so sorry," Devon said and sighed. He could tell that Britt blamed himself for Cory's disappearance.

Inside the cabin, Devon said, "I don't care what you think, Britt. You are not responsible for any of this."

"I guess you know me too well," Britt said.

"I know enough to know there is no way in hell you're responsible for Cory disappearing."

They weren't in the living room but a few moments when Wallace approached them timidly, announcing that dinner was ready to be served.

None of them were hungry, but the three men took seats at one end of the big dining table. Although the food was as tasty as ever, neither Britt, Devon nor Jerry realized it. They were just pushing their plates to the side when the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it, Wallace," Britt said when the old man pushed the kitchen door open.

When Britt swung the heavy wooden door back, he discovered Brian standing before him.

Britt invited the chief inside. Closing the door, he asked if there was any news.

"Nothing," Brian answered. "And the longer we go could mean less of a chance of us getting Cory back," he added with a shake of his head.

"I could be wrong, but something tells me if we could find Nathan Brown, we'd have better luck discovering where Cory is."

"You think the two are connected in some way?" Devon asked.

"I do," Britt answered.

"I do as well," Jerry agreed.

"That gives me an idea," Brian said. "Do either of you have a computer I can use?" he asked Britt and Devon.

"Mine is upstairs," Britt answered. "I'll run up and get it."

"No need," Devon said. "Mine's over here."

Devon went over to one of the tables beside the sofa and picked up his laptop. "Here you go," he said handing it to Brian.

Brian took it from him and headed for the dining table. The others followed after him. They watched as the police chief signed into a secured site, his fingers flying over the keys. He searched in several places and finally leaned back in his chair.

"It appears that the Fields woman lied to us. There is no record of her ever having lived in Fayetteville."

Leaning forward, Brian typed in some more information. A short time later he said, "And as I expected, not record of Nathan Brown living in Fayetteville either."

"I thought the woman way lying to us," Jerry remarked. "As she was talking, something just didn't seem right," he added.

Brian signed into another site and entered some more information. It wasn't long before he said, "There doesn't seem to be anyone in the state of Arkansas with the name LaDonna Fields."

"What about Nathan Brown?" Britt asked.

A search later, Brian found there were a lot of men with the last name of Brown, but no Nathan Brown. He told them as much.

Jerry Poteet stepped up next to his son. "Brian, why don't you do a search for anyone with the first name of Nathan? See if that turns up anything."

Brian did as his father asked. He wasn't surprised when twenty pages turned up. "I was afraid this would happen," he said. "Be like looking for a needle in a haystack."

Devon suddenly spoke up. "Print `em."

Surprised, Brian asked, "Are you certain about that?"

"Of course. Let's go up to Britt's office. That's where they will print. We can each take a few pages and check."

"Devon's right," Britt said. With four of us searching, it shouldn't take anytime at all."

Brian clicked on print, and the men hurried up the stairs to Britt's office. When they entered the room, they heard the printer already at work, shooting pages into the tray.

The laser printer was not only efficient, but fast as well, and it didn't take long for all twenty pages to print. Britt pulled the sheets from the tray and divided out among the four of them.

Each man took their pages and found a seat in the Britt's office. Silence entered the room as each one began reading the names before them. An hour had gone by with no luck. Just a lot of people with the first name of Nathan.

Britt's eyes were beginning to burn from reading so many names, and he was thinking about taking a break. In his mind, he was beginning to think this might not be the best way to find out anything. Suddenly his eyes landed on a name. His heart began racing in his chest. Excitement coursed through his body.

"Guys, you need to see this. I think we've discovered pay dirt."

Chapter Twenty-seven

Britt handed the sheet of paper he was holding to Brian. "Read that ninth name on the list," he instructed.

Seconds later Brian exclaimed, "Holy shit! Nathan George." Looking at his father, Brian asked, "Could this be a connection to your case thirty years ago, Dad?"

Jerry Poteet took the paper from his son. He studied the name for a full moment, his mind running over events happening years ago. "I think there is a damned good chance," he finally said. "At the time his name didn't show up. Of course, computers weren't anything like they are today. And since Celeste George couldn't be found, it's very likely he was overlooked.

Brian looked at Britt and asked, "Britt, you think you could give Sam Taylor a call and ask him to meet us at the newspaper office?"

"I can do that," Britt responded. "Knowing Sam, he could still be at the newspaper. The man works day and night."

Britt tried the Beacon office and wasn't surprised when Sam answered the phone.

"Hey, Sam," Britt greeted. "You're working kind of late, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I am," Sam answered. "Tomorrow's edition is going to have a little different format. I'm making sure everything is going to be ready to roll."

"Sam, is Nathan working this evening?" Britt asked.

"Nope. In fact, haven't seen the young man in several hours. I'm a little disappointed that he hasn't shown up. He was supposed to be here to give me a hand."

"It sounds like you're a bit busy," Britt said. "I hate to ask, but I need a favor. Would it be alright if I stopped by to see you in a little while? Don't worry, I won't be there long. I just have something I need from you."

Curious, but not asking, Sam told Britt to come on in.

Britt ended his call and said, "Let's go. Things are getting more suspicious. Evidently Brown was supposed to come back and help Sam with his project. Sam hasn't seen the man in several hours. The impression Sam gave me was that his employee was usually dependable. He seemed surprised that Brown hadn't returned to help him out."

"Something tells me that Mr. Brown, or whoever he is, has been a little busy," Brian commented as they made their way downstairs.

"What is it you need from Sam?" Devon asked.

Brian looked at the paper in his hand. "I wrote Nathan George's social security number down. I want to check it against Sam's records. Hopefully he's paying Brown a salary, rather than for contract work."

"You're going to see if the numbers match." Jerry shook his head and added, "I know that women change their name and keep the same number. I'm not certain how a man could."

"He could have had his name changed legally," Britt pointed out. "I know some authors that have actually gone to court and had their names changed to what they've been using for pen names. This could be what Brown has done. I don't believe there is any law that keeps anyone from doing that."

"Then we need to see Sam right away and see what we can find out," Brian said.

Once outside Britt crawled in front next to Brian. Jerry and Devon slid in the backseat. As Brian was pulling out of the driveway, he looked at Britt and grinned. "I knew I made a good decision when I hired you on staff. I wouldn't have had any reason to know about the legalities of name changing."

"Hey, what about us?" his dad asked from the backseat.

"You know how much I appreciate you, Dad," Brian grinned. "I really appreciate the fact you're working free of charge on this case."

"I'm sure you do. However, I'm not sure I would have given you this much of my time free if I hadn't a feeling it was going to somehow connect with my case."

"Now, Dad, you know you've enjoyed being back on board. Don't lie."

"I must admit, it has been rather nice being in the loop of things. I didn't realize how much I missed it."

"You could always move to Porterville," Devon pointed out. "I'm sure your son could make good use of your skills."

"I'm sure he could," Jerry answered and gave Devon a grin.

The short trip was made back to town in record time. Brian parked his car in front of the newspaper office. When they reached the door, they found it unlocked. They entered the building and called out Sam's name.

Sam came up from the back and greeted his visitors. "You fellows are out rather late in the day, are you not?"

Brian quickly announced to Sam the reason for their visit. He ended by saying, "I really hope you have your employee on salary rather than contract labor."

"Oh, he's on salary alright. Hang on a second."

Sam disappeared from sight, returning soon with a brown folder. He handed it to Brian. "Here's all the information on the boy. You're welcomed to anything I have."

Brian quickly took the folder from the newspaper publisher. He opened it up and pulled the contents out. He placed them on Sam's front counter and began his search. When he found what he was looking for, he quickly compared it with the number on his sheet of paper.

"By damn, I think we've got `em!" the police chief exclaimed.

"Tell me the numbers are the same," Britt spoke up.

"One and the same. See for yourself." Brian handed Britt the two pieces of paper.

Britt studied the two numbers. They were exactly the same! "That's exactly what he did," Britt declared. "He had his name changed."

"I wonder what he was trying to hide," Jerry remarked.

"Who the hell cares?" his son said. "We've got the bastard."

"Not really," Britt said. "You've got to find the bastard first."

Brian handed Sam back the folder. "Do me a favor, Sam. If Nathan Brown or George shows up, keep him here. Give me a call, but whatever you do, don't let him hear you calling me."

"Sure thing," Sam said. "Man, I really liked that kid. Until tonight, he's been very dependable."

"Looks like there might have been a reason for his dependability," Jerry told Sam.

Sam shook his head. "It appears you might be right, Mr. Poteet." Sam headed to the back of his building just as his visitors walked out of the newspaper office.

"What's the plan?" Britt asked once they were out on the sidewalk.

Brian thought for a moment. Finally he said, "First of all, I'm going to get hold of Pete and Chris. I want them to park on either side of town along the highway. We may be too late, but there's still a good chance we might be able to catch the man if he tries to leave town."

"Which he could possibly do if he has any idea you may be on to him," Devon remarked.

They waited while Brian made his calls. When the last one was finished, Brian said, "Good, that's been taken care of. Both exits should be covered shortly."

"Are you going to pay LaDonna Fields a visit?" Jerry asked.

"I certainly am," Brian answered his father.

They piled back into Brian's car once again and the chief drove to the east side of town. Britt noticed that the man wasn't driving the speed limit, and the idea of Brian speeding caused a grin to form on Britt's face.

"Why the grin?" Brian asked from behind the wheel.

"Oh, nothing," Britt answered. The grin remained on his face.

"The cause of your grin wouldn't by any change be my speed?"

"Oh, no, not at all," Britt quickly assured the chief.

"That's good."

It wasn't long before Brian was parking the police car in front of LaDonna Fields' home. Her car wasn't in the drive. The house itself was quite dark.

"Doesn't appear to be anybody home," Devon commented.

"Looks that way," Brian agreed.

"I think we should still check things out," Jerry remarked.

"I agree," Britt said opening the car door.

Britt hurried up to the door and rang the bell. The house was silent. Britt rang the bell a second time, and they waited.

"I'm afraid she and Brown have both disappeared," Jerry said.

"Looks like you're right, Dad," Brian said. "Damn, we should have discovered this information sooner."

As they were leaving the porch, Britt suddenly stopped. "Wait," he called out.

"What is it?" Brian asked.

Britt found the storm door unlocked. He opened it and stuck his head next to the wooden door. With his nose pressed to where the edge of the door should be, he took a deep breath through his nose. "I smell gas!" he cried out. "Coming from inside," he added.

"We need to get inside," Jerry declared. "I smell it now."

"Can we break the door down?" Devon asked.

"It feels pretty solid," Britt said. "Probably has a deadbolt on the other side. I don't think all of us together could do much damage to the door."

"Then break a window out," Jerry said. "If we don't get the gas shut off, the whole place is going to blow."

There happened to be a short board beside the house along the driveway. It wasn't very long, but it was pretty thick.

"This should do the trick," Brian said picking the board up.

The others followed him back to the porch. There was a window beside the door that should allow easy access to the house. They watched as Brian smashed the glass. It was an older house, so there was not only a storm window, but a heavily wooden framed window as well. Brian was successful in breaking both panes at the same time.

"Wait out here," Brian told them as he ripped his uniform shirt off his body.

Brian wadded his shirt and pressed it against his nose. "Wait here," he told them. "I mean it," he added looking directly at Britt.

The police chief quickly disappeared through the dark window while the others waited anxiously on the porch. He was gone so long that Britt began to fear for the chief's safety.

"What are you doing?" Devon asked when he saw Britt reaching for his phone.

"I'm calling 911," he said. "Something tells me we're going to need help."

Britt had just finished with his call when a light came on inside the house. Brian was suddenly at the door. "I need help," he called out. "Cory is in the house. He's unconscious, and we need to get him out to fresh air."

"I've called 911," Britt said. "They're on the way."

"Be careful," Brian said as they joined him inside the house. "Devon, you and Dad go raise windows. We've got to get the house aired out. Britt, help me with Cory."

Britt followed Brian down a short hallway to a back room where Cory was sitting in a chair, his hands tied behind him. His eyes were close, and the detective appeared to be unconscious.

"He's breathing really shallow," Brian said. "Let's drag him outside."

Britt watched as Brian pulled out a pocket knife and began sawing at the cord that help the detective's hands tightly together. When Cory's hands were free, Britt took one side, Brian the other, and together, they carried, half drug the man through the house and out the front door. The ambulance and fire truck pulled up at the same time.

The rescue team began working with Cory immediately upon arrival, and it wasn't long before the detective's breathing was close to being normal. When they had him stabilized, he was lifted into the ambulance. He was being transported to the hospital where he would be looked after and watched very carefully.

Brian took a moment to walk over to the emergency vehicle. He spoke quietly to Cory. "Hey, Bud, what's the meaning of this?"

"If you only knew," Cory managed to mumble.

"I think I have a pretty good idea. They're going to take you to the hospital and give you a good checkup. I'll come see you in a bit. I have some things to clear up here first."

Cory tried to talk, but the words wouldn't come out.

"He doesn't need to try and talk," one of the attendants told Brian.

"Of course not." Turning to Cory, he said, "Do what they tell you to do, Cory. I will see you soon."

Brian left the ambulance and hurried back into the house where he was met by Britt.

"I have a question, Brian," Britt said.

"I'm listening."

"Do we actually need a court order to be inside this house?"

"Absolutely not. This was a dangerous situation we were involved in. Not only could the house have exploded, but a person was in danger as well. Why do you ask?"

"Follow me," Britt said.

Britt led the way down the hall to a different room than the one where they had found Cory. He walked over to the closet and raised a quilt. "I was going to take this out to lay Cory on, but then I heard the ambulance arrive, so I put it back on the shelf. However, when I did, this is what I found at the very back."

Britt leaned forward on his tiptoes and pulled two shinny objects from the back of the shelf. He showed them to Brian and said, "I think that I have found the weapon used not only to kill Jacob Crawley, but was used also in the attempt to murder Cory as well."

Britt was holding two silver candlesticks. Brian told him to lay them carefully on the table beside the bed.

"Don't touch them anymore than you already have, Britt. I would wager a month's salary that these are the weapons that also killed the lady in Dad's case"

Brian stepped out into the hall and called for his dad to join them.

"What's up?" Jerry asked stepping into the small bedroom.

"Tell me what you think," Brian said pointing to the silver candlesticks.

Jerry walked over to the bedside table. "Holy shit, I think we've done it. Not only have you solved your murder and attempted murder, but my thirty year old case as well."

"Why the hell would these people hang on to such evidence for such a long time?" Britt asked.

"Who knows what they were thinking? Or if they were even thinking," Brian remarked.

Jerry said, "Perhaps they held on to them thinking they would one day sell them. After all, they are silver."

"But they didn't sell them," Britt pointed out.

"Which is evident from what we see here," Jerry agreed. "If I were to guess, I would say they kept them for two reasons. One, they could conceal the evidence, hoping that would keep their secret safe. If they sold or pawned them that would put everything out in the open and their secret might be revealed."

"You said two reasons," Brian reminded his dad.

"They might have decided to hang on to them, and some day, should they need money, it might be safe enough by then to sell them."

"Who owns this house?" Brian asked. "We need to find out who the owner is and let him know what has happened. We need to seal everything off until we can go over the place with a fine tooth comb."

"We can close it up for now," Britt said. "When I get home, I can look up the public records at the courthouse and see who the actual owner it."

"The gas is definitely contained now, right?" Devon asked joining them in the small room.

"It is," Brian answered. "I'm going to check the meter. I think I have a wrench in the car I can use to turn it off there as well. The gas was coming from the four burners on the range, as well as the oven. The thing that saved Cory was the fact that the hot water heater was at the back of the house and sealed off by an outside entrance. If it had been inside the house, there is no doubt it would have blown. Cory is a very lucky man. We all are," the chief added.

Devon found a board big enough to cover the broken window in a small tool shed behind the house, as well as a plastic container of nails. There was no hammer, but Brian supplied him one from the back of the police car. A short time later the window was completely covered up.

The men met in the small living room. Brian said, "Okay, I think we're going to lock everything up tight. When Britt finds out who the owner is, he can ask for a key and explain that nothing can be touched until I give the all clear sign.

"Britt, would you mind going out to the trunk of the cruiser? There is a box of heavy plastic bags there. I want to put each one of the candlesticks in a bag to preserve any evidence that might be on them. Other than that, we'll not remove anything else."

Britt did as Brian asked and soon returned with the bags and a cloth towel. "I found this towel in the back," he told Brian. "I thought it might be best to lift the candlesticks with it."

"Good idea," Brian said.

The lights were turned off in the house, and Brian locked the wooden door from the inside. While it did have a dead bolt, it also had a lock he could turn on the doorknob. The gas was turned off for safety measure, and Brian told them he would drive them home.

About half way through Porterville, Brian received a call. He pushed a button on the stirring wheel, allowing him to take the call hands free.

"This is Poteet," he greeted.

"Brian, where are you?" The caller was Chris Vaughn.

"Taking the guys home. Then I'm coming back to the station. I have some news I need to give you."

"Pete and I have news as well," Chris informed the chief. "Would you believe we caught both people of interest trying to leave town. Mr. Brown was heading south and Miss Fields was leaving north side."

Brian pulled over to the side of the road. "Whatever you do, hold on to them," Brian ordered. "I'll be there shortly." Turning to face Britt and then the two in the back, he asked, "You wanna go with me to the station? It could be a really interesting visit."

All three declared they would definitely enjoy a visit to. Brian made sharp turn and suddenly the car was headed to the police station.

"This could be really interesting," Britt thought to himself. He couldn't wait to see what the two in custody had to say for themselves. It could definitely be the beginning of a new story for Britt to create.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

When they reached the police station, Brian told them he needed to have a talk with them. Silently the guys followed the police chief down the hall to his office. Once inside, he walked behind his desk and leaned against the wall.

"Guys, here's the deal," he said. "I can have a talk with these two, but there's not much I can do until morning. If they're willing to talk without an attorney present, fine and good. However, something tells me they're not going to be willing to do that.

"I'm sure you are right," Jerry agreed with his son.

Looking at Britt, the chief said, "Britt do me a favor, will you? Fields and Brown will be in two separate rooms. I would like for you to go into this web site and pull up Celeste George's name. You will be able to find out everything about the woman, including her social security." He leaned over and picked a sheet of paper up from his desk. "Here's the information Kathy Applebee has on LaDonna Fields. I want you to compare the two social security numbers the way we did on Nathan." He handed the information from Kathy to Britt and said, "The web site and password is at the top of this page. Username will be Bpoteet. We'll be in the first interview room. Come on back when you have what we need."

Brian and the rest of the group left the room leaving Britt alone. He pulled Brian's chair out and sat down. He punched in the web site and when it was up, he typed in Brian's username and password. He watched as the screen downloaded, and when the page he was looking for popped up, Britt typed in the name Celeste George. The program began searching. It searched and searched, taking so long that Britt was beginning to fear nothing was going to be turned up. Just as he was about to give up, a screen popped up. Britt read the information before him. CELESTE GEORGE 2721 CYPRESS BLVD CONWAY, ARKANSAS EMPLOYER : GRACE LITTLEFIELD 150321 MANATOE LANE LITTLE ROCK ARK

The third line included both Celeste's and Grace's social security numbers. Britt quickly checked the two numbers and wasn't in the least surprised they matched. Earlier when he had made the remark about coming into pay dirt, he had been right on the money.

Leaving the page up on Brian's computer screen, Britt clicked on print. A printer in one corner of Brian's office came alive and quickly shot a sheet of paper out into the tray. Britt got up and walked over to the printer. He picked the sheet up and returned to the computer screen. After making sure everything he wanted was there, he logged off and quickly left Brian's office. It didn't take him long to find the room where Brian and everyone else was.

Britt walked up to the closed door and gave a knock. Brian opened the door almost at once. Britt motioned for him to step outside.

"What did you find out?" Brian asked after closing the door behind him.

Britt handed him the computer printout along with the information Kathy Applebee had supplied. "Look for yourself, Brian."

Brian read all of the computer information and then glanced at Kathy's sheet. "By God, I do believe we have her," Brian said. "Come on in. You haven't missed anything. So far, it's just been a general talk."

Britt followed the chief back inside the interview room. He looked around the area and saw the rest of the group sitting in chairs along one wall. He took a seat beside Devon and turned his attention to what Brian was saying.

Brian took a seat once again and said, "Okay, here is the deal. Rightfully you have the right to have an attorney present. If you have one and would like to call him in, I can wait to talk with you."

"Am I going to need an attorney?" the woman asked. "What have I done?"

"Well, for starters, we found an individual tied up in your house. Along with him, we also found five gas jets expelling gas throughout your house. And lastly, I would like to show you something."

Brian leaned over and pulled something from underneath the table where he and the woman were sitting. The chief placed both bags on the table containing the silver candlesticks. "Have you ever seen these before?"

LaDonna Fields or Celeste George, who ever she was looked at the candlesticks. "Those are mine," she said. "What right did you have to take them?"

"They belong to you?" Brian looked hard at the woman.

"They do. They belonged to my mother, and when she got sick and knew she was going to die, she gave them to me. She didn't have much in life, but she had those given to her when she was just a young girl. All the time I was growing up they sat on a shelf in our living room."

"Is that so?"

The woman gave a nod and said, "Yes, it is."

"Where did you live while growing up?"

"I have already told you that. Fayette, Arkansas."

"Did you ever leave Fayette? Did you ever live anywhere else?"

The woman shook her head. "Not until I moved to Porterville."

Brian appeared to be lost in thought for a minute. Then, "Miss Fields, does the name Grace Littlefield mean anything to you?"

The Fields woman studied the table top for a moment. Then she said, "No, I don't believe it does. Was she someone I should know?"

Brian ignored her question by asking a different one. "What about Jacob Crawley? Does his name sound familiar?"

LaDonna Fields glanced down once more at the tabletop. Then looking up once more, she asked, "Isn't that the name of the man that was killed just outside of Porterville in an automobile accident sometime back?"

"It was," Brian assured her. "Again, I'm going to ask you, did you know Mr. Crawley?"

"No sir. All I know about the man was that he was killed in an accident."

"I see. Would you like to hear my take on a few things?"

When the woman didn't answer, Brian said, "Here's what I think. I think that Jacob Crawley somehow discovered where you were and came here to try and blackmail you."

"Blackmail? Why would a man I don't even know want to blackmail me? I've nothing to hide. There would be no reason for anyone to try and blackmail me."

"No?"

"Of course not," the woman declared.

"Oh, but I think there was something in your past Jacob Crawley knew. I believe the man truly thought he could get money from you."

Looking Brian straight on, LaDonna Fields said, "What do you think I have?"

Brian quietly pushed the two covered candlesticks across the table. "How about these?"

"I don't understand, Mr. Poteet. I've told you, these are mind. They once belonged to my mother."

"So, if I'm understanding you correctly, you're telling me that Grace Littlefield was your mother. Is this true?"

"Grace Littlefield. Who is that woman? Why do you keep trying to connect me with her?"

"For this reason." Brian pushed Britt's computer printout across the table to the woman.

LaDonna picked the sheet up and began reading. Her face went white almost immediately. With shaking hands, she laid the computer printout on the table. She immediately became silent.

"You see, Miss George, when you killed your employer thirty years ago, computers were just coming into being. Back then it was much harder to trace someone down if they wanted to disappear. And disappear is exactly what you did."

Brian slid the paper that Kathy Applebee had given him over to her. "If you will read what's on that piece of paper, you can see for yourself that figures rarely lie. There's no way in the world that LaDonna Fields and Celeste George would have the same social security number."

"I think I would like an attorney now."

"We can arrange that," Brian agreed. "However, I don't think anything can be arranged until morning. But yes, we'll make sure one's available for you."

Brian pushed his chair back and stood up. He picked up the two candlesticks. "Oh, and a couple more things. I'm pretty sure when Forensics examines these in the morning, they are going to discover they were used to kill Jacob Crawley. Also, I feel certain we'll find out that one of the candlesticks tried to kill Detective Manners. As for the death of Grace Littlefield, well, I'll leave that up to the Little Rock people."

Brian motioned for Britt and everyone else to follow him out of the room. At the door he turned and said one last thing to her. "Oh, and since your memory seems to be failing you, I'll remind you who Jacob Crawley was. He was the nephew of Martha Bennet, as well as the Littlefield gardener. I feel pretty certain he's the one who got this nasty ball rolling when he came to Porterville and tried to get money from you to keep him quiet. Which, by the way, caught up in all of this mess you've created is a very dear and special lady that almost lost her life as Mr. Crawley was hurrying to leave town."

"I don't think you can blame that on me," the woman remarked.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. We shall see. What does it really matter? I really think that I have enough on you as it is.

Out in the hallway, once the interview door was closed, Britt said, "I'm telling you, Chief, you're as professional as the big city guys. I must say, I was impressed."

"It wasn't just me," Brian denied. "All of you have helped in one way or another. Let's don't forget the one who has helped us the most. It was Cory that pointed us in the direction that led to solving this case."

"Speaking of the guy, shouldn't we be checking on him?" Devon asked.

They followed Brian out into the big opened area where there were several desks. Chris Vaughn was sitting at one of the desks. Brian asked the officer if he had heard anything from Cory.

Chris told the chief that he had just finished talking with the hospital. Cory was responding to treatment and was definitely going to be alright.

"That great news," Brian said looking at the others. "Now, what say we begin Act II of this story? Let's go see what Nathan Brown George has to say for himself."

Britt and the others followed Brain to the second interview room.

Act II was about to begin.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Britt and the others followed Brian into a different room where Nathan Brown was sitting at the table. As they took their seats, Nathan smiled warmly at Brian.

"This has to be a big mistake," the man said.

"Anything is possible, Mr. Brown. However, I fear this is no mistake."

"As I explained to the officer who stopped me, I was on my way back to my home town to handle some family business."

"What town was that?" Brian asked.

"Fayetteville," the man replied.

"What sort of family business?"

"I received a call that my father was ill and in the hospital. I really need to get on the road," the man added.

"I'm very sorry to hear about your father." Sincerity could be heard in the tone by which Brian spoke to the man. "I have a few questions for you. Perhaps after you answer them you can be on your way. I certainly want you to be with your dad if he needs you.

"I guess my first question," Brian continued, "is how do you know Miss Fields?"

"She's a friend I grew up with. We went to school together."

"In Fayetteville?"

"That's right," Nathan answered and gave the chief a nod with his head.

"School friends? Must be pretty good friends," Brian remarked. "What's it been, twenty-five—thirty years you've been out of school? That's quite a long time to keep up with a friend. I've been out ten years, and I hardly know where any of my school friends are today."

"LaDonna and I were really close in high school," Nathan said. "We even dated a couple times, but it turned out we were better friends than lovers."

"You did date?" Brian pursued.

"Three times, if I'm not mistaken."

"Tell me, Nathan, does the name Celeste George mean anything to you?"

Britt studied the man's face and noticed Nathan never blinked or moved a muscle on his face.

Nathan rubbed his chin and said, "I don't believe so. Is she someone I might have met since coming to Porterville?"

Brian suddenly remembered something he had neglected to do. "Nathan, would you feel better if you had an attorney present? I'll be honest, you probably won't be able to secure one tonight. However, I'm sure one can be reached first thing in the morning."

Nathan asked the same question LaDonna Fields had earlier. "Do I need one?"

"That's entirely up to you. You have the right to have one present. I wanted you to know that."

"Thank you. I feel pretty sure this will all be cleared up by morning anyway."

"So you've never heard of anyone with the name of Celeste George?"

"Once again, I don't believe so." Nathan sounded very confident as he spoke.

"Mr. Brown, have you ever heard the name Jacob Crawley?"

"That is one name I know," Nathan answered. "I had been working only a few days at the newspaper office when the man was found dead just outside of town. If memory serves me right, wasn't he killed in an automobile accident? I think Sam Taylor might have had me take a few pictures for the paper."

"I'm sure he must have," Brian agreed. "Sam is always interested in news items. That's what makes him a good publisher."

Brian was silent for a moment. Then, "Tell me, Nathan, have you ever heard the name Grace Littlefield?"

Brian's question brought just the slightest change in the man's facial movement. As Britt looked on, he couldn't quite read the man's expression.

Brian remained silent, waiting for the man in front of him to speak.

"The name sounds vaguely familiar," Brown finally said. "Seems to me the name was in the news way back. I can't really say for certain."

"Let me see if I can jog your memory," Brian said. "Grace Littlefield was an older woman who was found dead in her home better than thirty years ago. At the time, it wasn't decided for certain whether her death had been an accident or murder."

"I think I do kind of remember the story," Nathan decided. "I was still in high school when the story was in the newspaper."

Brian lapsed into another moment of silence. Finally he locked his eyes on Nathan Brown's face. "Mr. Brown, I'm fully convinced that you are in the wrong line of business. You should have gone into acting. You would have made more money."

"Whatever are you talking about?" A puzzled look appeared on the man's face.

"Perhaps this will help you to understand," Brian said pushing a piece of paper across the table.

Brown picked up the paper and read it. Then looking up with a stone face, he asked, "What is the meaning of this?"

"I think what it means is that for whatever reason, you had your name changed." Brian slid a second sheet of paper across the table for the man to read.

A moment later, "Are you trying to say that my name is Nathan George?"

"I believe I am, Mr.—George. Numbers don't lie, and no two people ever have the same social security number."

The man pushed the papers back over to Brian. "Maybe I should ask for an attorney," Nathan Brown George replied.

"Of course," Brian answered. "We'll see that you get one first thing in the morning."

Brian pushed his chair back and remained seated. "I'm going to tell you what I think, Mr. Brown or Mr. George. As you read, Celeste George worked for Grace Littlefield many years ago. As did Jacob Crawley. He was the nephew of Martha Bennett. Martha Bennet was the cook and housekeeper for Grace Littlefield. I know for a fact that Jacob Crawley, who had become Littlefield's gardener when he grew up, had discovered what really happened at the time of his employer's death."

Brian pulled the two candlesticks out from under the table. "I believe that when Forensics examine these in the morning they will find evidence that will prove these have been used as murder weapons. We may never know for sure about the Littlefield case. That will be up to Little Rock. As for us in Porterville, I think we will be able to prove without a doubt that you and Celeste are in the middle of everything. Whether Celeste did it all on her own, or the two of you did it together, well, that will be up to the courts. Without your lawyer present, I'm not going to ask you anything more. However, I will wager a guess. You may be friends with Celeste George/LaDonna Fields, but I'm pretty sure she is your sister. My reason for that is because there is no public record that the two of you are married. That pretty much makes me believe she's your sister."

Brian stood to his feet. "As I said, we'll make sure you have an attorney first thing in the morning. The same goes for Celeste as well. Hope you're stay is comfortable with us, Mr. Brown/George. Someone will be here shortly to escort you to your room."

As they reentered the wide opened area where a few people were still working, Britt saw the clock on the wall. It was after midnight. What a night it had been. Actually, all things considered, it had been a really good night."

They followed Brian over to where Chris Vaughn was sitting behind a desk. Brian placed the papers in his hand, as well as the two silver candlesticks on Chris' desk and said, "Chris, I want you to put these with the rest of the evidence in the Crawley case. I'll get the candlesticks to forensics in the morning."

"Is everything wrapped up?" the officer asked.

"For our part, I believe so. We're retaining them both for tonight. Once they can secure lawyers, I'll meet with them again and go over what I've discussed with them tonight."

"Sounds pretty promising," Vaughn commented.

"I think so, too."

Brian turned around and faced the others. "I see some pretty tire faces. I think it's about time I take you home."

"Should we check on Cory before we leave town?" Britt asked.

Brian looked at Chris Vaughn and said, "Give the hospital another call. If it sounds like we should go personally and see him, we will. If not, I'm going to get these guys home."

They waited while Vaughn punched in a number on the desk phone. A few minutes later he ended his call and said, "The nurse in charge assured me he's resting nicely. He's breathing on his own now and actually sleeping. She said he's going to make a full recovery and that a good night's rest is what he needs."

"That's great," Britt said. "Poor Cory, he's going to want to get as far away from Porterville as possible. The guy has had two close calls since he's arrived in town."

Jerry Poteet disagreed. "I don't think you're going to get rid of that guy anytime soon. I know he feels as if he's made several good friends here in Porterville. I have a feeling you're going to see him often. Cory realizes that his job can throw him into dangerous situations, and he's all for it. He'll tell you that's the reason he became a detective."

"I think you are right, Dad," Brian agreed with his father. "Now, let's get you all home before you drop in your tracks. "Goodnight, Vaughn. Don't forget our two guests in the back. I told them we had excellent rooms for them."

A little later when Brian pulled into the driveway in front of Britt and Devon's cabin, he said, "Guys, I can't begin to tell you how much I appreciate all of the help you've given me on this case. Sometimes I feel like you work harder than my actual staff does when it comes to solving a case. "Thank you for everything. I mean it."

"Glad to help," Britt said. He opened the car door and stood to his feet.

"Glad I was able to help you, Son," Jerry Poteet said giving his son a pat on the shoulder.

"I'm not sure how much I added to this story," Devon said also exiting the car.

"Trust me, Brother, you've been a big help as well," Brian assured his brother-in-law.

The three men stood in the driveway watching at Brian's tail lights disappeared from sight.

"It will be nice when the house is finished," Jerry said as they followed Britt inside the cabin. "At least he and Alice will be close by," he added.

"It will be nice," Devon agreed. "If I had my way, I'd have them live with us. For years I had no idea I even had a sister. Once I discovered that I did—correction, once Britt discovered I had a sister, I was hoping I would always have her close. At least once they're living out this way, I will have her nearby once again."

"You're going to be alright," Britt said giving his partner a hug. "Thanks to a really good evening, I think we're all going to be alright."