Finally I get to thank those who have pushed me to fulfill a dream that begun when I was a little girl discovering the magic of words. First I need to say thank you to Meghan Fanning for making me promise that I would not let another day go by without putting the stories in my head to paper. She became my editor and cheerleader along this bumpy road. Then there’s Susie Knust, an author and a new friend, who I timidly gave a few pages of what I thought were random scribbles. Her encouragement through this process made me believe that dreams can come true. Then there’s that wonderful teacher in elementary school that gave me the tools to think, dream and write. Thank you, Ms. Bonnet.

Chapter 1

Sticky from the late summer night air, Jamaal meticulously continued to work on the bomb lying on the workbench. His dark hand slipped only once, causing the Libyan to suck in his breath and step back. For weeks he’d practiced in the desert of his home with others just like him learning how to make these kinds of bombs. A quick student, Jamaal had gotten the attention of one man who decided his skills needed to be put to the ultimate test. A promise of money only slightly overshadowed the reward of hurting the Americans. As his heartbeat returned to normal he once more fingered what he hoped would be a weapon of distraction. Finally Jamaal slowly removed his hands and smiled at the completion of the toy-like monster. It hadn’t taken any more work than a conventional bomb, he decided.

Dynamite had been ridiculously easy to obtain from a mining company north of Nevada City which was in the process of closing. The difficult part had been securing the radioactive material. But a disgruntled hospital employee willingly provided access for Jamaal’s boss to obtain the final component for the weapon before him. Various online markets sold military toys that were so life-like Jamaal wondered why Homeland Security hadn’t shut them down. The secure radioactive container easily slipped inside the missile. His boss had convinced him it would be enough. Adapting his army green missile with explosives, although tricky, had not been beyond his ability. The connection to the launcher was another matter. Would it adapt to carrying this small attachment now that it was heavier? For the last several hours Jamaal had trouble with the launcher turning on prematurely with the added weight. By accident he discovered if he propped it upright as if it were being held the lights failed to flash a warning of launch.

No longer would he be the butt of jokes calling him a stupid fool.

His associates would be pleased.

His reward and recognition would be great.

Only one more thing to do. Launch. Tomorrow. The first of many tomorrows.

It would be simple. Near dawn he would load the readapted toy which had been fitted with his attachment into the trunk of his car. Sacramento was less than an hour away so he wanted to leave early enough to find a good parking spot along the way. He had been monitoring traffic helicopters for weeks. He knew exactly which one would be the target. Bringing it down over a populated area where several highways merged would be child’s play. The authorities would realize later something more heinous had occurred than a helicopter crashing into rush hour traffic. By then what little radioactive poison survived would throw authorities into a panic. His boss could move forward with bigger plans while the country kept eyes on Sacramento.

Jamaal yawned, realizing he’d been working since early morning without much of a break. After making sure the weapon was secure, he gently let his hands hover over the finished project and smiled once more, knowing his glory would soon be visible to the world. Backing toward the shed door he reached behind him to twist the doorknob. Even now Jamaal struggled to tear his eyes away from his creation. As the door creaked open Jamaal unwittingly paused long enough for the neighbor’s cat to slip quietly into the shadows of the stacked lumber in the corner.

The light extinguished, Jamaal stepped into the night, closing the door behind him. The smell of the neighbor’s freshly cut grass made him decide that would be what he missed about California. There wasn’t much grass in Libya. A breeze touched his serious face as he tucked his head and made for his back door. Nearby someone had fired up a grill for a late night’s dinner. He paused, hearing a dog bark and the distant laughter of men sharing something he would never understand. This country was too friendly, too trusting. He wondered in that moment if he would be able to sleep? The others had already gone to bed. Softly he called the cat that had been coming around at night. A saucer of milk each visit kept the creature returning.

The excited cry of the cat inside the shed forced Jamaal’s feet to trip, sprawling him onto the damp grass. Pushing up in desperation he stumbled toward the shed hearing the clatter of obstacles the cat moved as it raced toward what he guessed was a mouse.

Something close to lightning speed touched the mouse and it was running for its life, but not before the tabby cried out and pounded on the very spot in which the small creature had tried to disappear. A roar, flashing red lights and a hissing sound imploded the room when the cat landed on the man’s machine. With agile reflexes the feline leaped once more onto the floor and escaped into the corner, not noticing that the rodent was right next to him. The workbench began to vibrate and in the next instant the machine expelled a tail of fire and crashed through the windows into the night sky.

The cries of anguish from the man startled the cat into making a quick escape as the door flung open. Dogs began to bark throughout the neighborhood. Porch lights flickered on and then off as houses began to stir at the wails of a desperate man running into his backyard before collapsing to his knees.

“A client, Robert! How could you?” Tessa Scott doubled her fists as they landed angrily on her hips, a stance she often took when ready to do battle. She fell wearily onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. The day had been one mishap after another. The bleach spilled on her favorite pair of shorts. It took three hours to get the oil changed at Wal-Mart. Her two older sons got into a fistfight in front of Reverend Phillips. When she tried to break them up, her precious little girl had laughed, saying “Oh shit!” The boys had frozen at that point, looking very sheepish and innocent. To the credit of Daniel, the middle child, he switched the attention from his little sister to her. “Mom, Dad told you if you didn’t stop saying that word one of us would pick it up.” The good reverend could hardly contain his smile of embarrassment and graciously left them in the tire and lube waiting room of Wal-Mart.

To make matters worse the dryer was acting so sluggish that she ended up hanging their clothes that were to be packed for vacation, outside on a clothesline, only to be called by Mr. Crawley from next door who reminded her that there was a covenant in the subdivision about public displays of laundry. He emphasized a hillbilly could do that in Tennessee where she grew up, but it was unacceptable in northern California. Of course the clothes, although fresh smelling now, all needed to be ironed. She hadn’t even had a shower today or looked in a mirror since 8 a.m. After heading the children off to bathtubs, Tessa had longed to crumple onto the bed to breathe. That’s when Robert had come home, bounded up the stairs and jumped into the room like a twelve year old.

He held his finger to his lips and gently pulled her up as her body tried to slide back down to the bed. “I know. I know. I should have called first.” Robert kissed her cheek and rubbed her back gently. “It’s just dinner, sweetheart.” Robert tried to disarm her with his boyish charm as he began pushing her toward the bathroom.

Tessa pushed him at arm’s length. “We’re leaving early tomorrow morning for Tahoe. You should’ve taken him out.”

“He likes the domestic scene, honey, impresses him when the people around him are into family.”

Tessa rolled her eyes upward then leveled a hard gaze at her husband. “Since when are you into family? You missed all but two of Sean Patrick’s ballgames, the spring concert at school and Heather’s third birthday party! We haven’t had a night out in six months! Daniel is so glued to the computer he’s beginning to think you’re a virtual reality game show host!”

Robert chuckled weakly and followed her into the bathroom. “I’ll fire up the grill and take a few steaks out of the cooler already packed for Tahoe. All you have to do is toss a salad, nuke a couple of potatoes and presto!” he said happily.

“Oh Robert, I’m tired,” she moaned, knowing she’d lost as he pulled her into his arms tenderly.

Robert wrinkled his brow. “For Heaven sakes why? You’re home all day. You just play with the kids and stuff.” He released her suddenly and fled into the bedroom. “Fix yourself up a bit, will ya? You look like you’ve been on combat maneuvers.” Robert removed his tie and eagerly left the room, whistling
You Ain’t Nothin’ but a Hound Dog.”

Tessa turned to look at herself in the mirror and was shocked at how old she looked. The day, no, the years were taking their toll on her. She felt used up. Drained of energy and of life, the thirty five year old housewife wondered where her dreams had gone, her beauty, and her drive? Had she sacrificed them all for Robert’s career? Did the well-being of her children crowd out any room for her own desires? The answer was simple. Yes. Tessa had become invisible as a person of distinction.

Mindlessly, Tessa turned on the shower and stripped off her grimy, bleach spotted clothes. As she stepped into the shower and let the hot water vaporize her sadness, Tessa began to form a decision. Somewhere between the peach smelling shampoo and the quickly shaved legs, Tessa turned a corner into a new life, one she had not exactly expected, but one she embraced nonetheless.

Robert swung Heather up into his tan arms and hugged her, careful never to take his eyes off Mr. Feldspar, who was rattling on and on about his son that was a quarterback for Texas A & M. He felt Heather’s warm kisses on his cheek and quickly put her down so he could concentrate, regretting that once again he’d put the job first. There was nothing as important as little girl kisses and he could see in Heather’s pouty mouth that she didn’t understand.

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