SAN FRANCISCO LADY

PAT SMITH

(c) copyright by Patricia Smith , March 1999

CHAPTER ONE

She decided to walk and try to pull herself together before catching the bus home.

It had been a most disagreeable day so far. She dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief as she strolled along. The business district gave way to some charming pastel painted apartments with window boxes interspersed with small office buildings.

Coming to San Francisco, from Elk Grove had been her dream. It might have had something to do with getting away from her mother, much as she loved her, she could be a might overbearing. Leaving for the big city had made Mom go into overdrive warning her about the dangers of dating big city boys who drive too fast, drink too much, bartenders and the like. Secretarial school had been her ticket out of Elk Grove.

Unfortunately, the secretarial jobs she had found so far had ended pretty much like today. She had been working for Worthington and Worthington for almost three months. In fact she had a disastrous first date with Robert Worthington, the son and one of her bosses. Her mother had never warned her about attorneys, mostly just bartenders. But he had been a real louse and very rude to boot. He made a crude drunken pass at her on their first date and had the nerve to tell her that if he didn’t try something, she might think she had lost her charms. Ha!!! To top it off, when they were at a bar for an after dinner drink, some poor blonde who was obviously smitten with Robert, had come up to him, totally ignoring her presence and asked him why he had stopped calling her. He had just told her he was busy, and he would call her later in the week. The sad woman had crept away rejected.

The fact that she had to threaten to walk home probably had something to do with why she was called into his father’s office and fired that very morning. Her sins on paper included being late now and again. Alas, tardiness was one of her weaknesses and she just couldn’t seem to get anywhere on time. He had requested she sign separation papers and she had torn them up with every bit of courage she could muster and walked out in tears. Unfortunately, she would have to go out and look for another job right away. After all, she had her cat, Miss Magic to supply with her favorite flavors of cat food each week.

She had just begun to overcome her feelings of gloom and doom and was beginning to enjoy the crisp spring air when she spied a help wanted sign on a small corner bar. Being a stenographer was not agreeing with her. Maybe, just for a lark, she should apply? She hesitated, thinking of her countless hours behind a typewriter and decided to go for it. Slowly, she opened the door and walked inside the dark room.

Mike LaRossa was behind the bar setting up glasses when a shaft of light danced across the room from the opening door. The light was followed by an incredible looking redhead with the most beautiful, luminous blue eyes he had ever seen. She was tall, almost as tall as himself, and her manner was elegant.

"May I help you, Miss? We aren't open for business yet, as you can see."

"I came in about the help wanted sign in your window."

Mike's jaw fell open. "My...my help wanted sign?" he stammered.

"Yes," answered Victoria, frowning. "Is there something wrong with that?"

"No...no, of course not. I'd be happy to interview you, Miss. My name is Mike LaRossa, and I'm the owner of this establishment."

"Victoria Bell," she replied, shaking his hand. Mike reached under the bar and whisked out an application and pen. He motioned to one of the stools and she seated herself. She took the application and began answering the questions. Mike peeked over the counter at her near perfect legs, dangling from the bar stool.

"You're dressed a little differently from what the usual barmaid wears for an interview. That's why I was a little surprised by your request. Have you had much experience?"

Victoria looked aghast at his question.

"As a barmaid, I mean." Mike saved himself.

"No, as a matter of fact, all my experience has been secretarial." Victoria admitted woefully.

"Well, that's all right, Miss Bell. We can train you, if you're interested in the job." Mike had his fingers crossed for luck behind his back. She was certainly interesting to observe and given the time and opportunity, he aimed to give Victoria his most charming come-ons.

She looked at him with those huge blue eyes and appeared to be thinking her decision over. "What kind of salary does a waitress make in a place like this?" she asked suspiciously.

"I think you'll find our salary and tips quite generous, if you decide to give us a try," he put in hopefully.

Victoria filled out her application and at last she finished writing and pushed the paper towards Mike and began glancing around the place.

Mike read her application thoroughly and was impressed with her secretarial skills. But he was puzzled by her decision to apply for the job as barmaid.

"Miss Bell, Victoria, why are you applying here with your other qualifications?"

Suddenly, her eyes filled with tears and a small drop trickled down her cheek.

Mike was taken by surprise. Whatever had he said? He reached into his pocket, drew out his handkerchief and offered it to her.

"I'm sorry, but things have not been going too well for me lately. My last job ended this morning. Mr. Worthington fired me!" Victoria choked back a sob.

"There, there, Miss, it's okay. Those things happen, nothing to worry your pretty head about. I've never fired anybody who works here," Mike reassured her, patting her trembling shoulders.

Victoria dried her eyes and smiled warmly at Mike as she returned his handkerchief. "Thanks a bunch for the handkerchief. If you'll still have me after that outburst, I'd sure like to give this job a try."

Mike sighed with relief. "I'd love to give you a try, Miss Bell." He did not even try to hide the lecherous tone in his voice, or the grin on his face. He did not care about checking her references, or any of his normal hiring practices. He would give her the usual one month trial basis and check her out later. He could not take a chance on losing this beautiful creature.

She looked at him in her most aloof, business-like manner. "What now, Mr. LaRossa?" In spite of herself, she was attracted to him.

"What size are you, Miss Bell...for your uniform?"

"A twelve usually."

Mike excused himself and went into a back room, returning with a small box. "This is a thirteen, but it may do."

She took the box from his hands and opened it with trepidation. Her mouth fell open as she held up the rather small black ruffled outfit.

"This is it?"

"That's it. I picked out that design myself," he boasted proudly.

"But I can't wear this! There's not enough of it, Mr. LaRossa!"

"Miss Bell, all my barmaids wear the same outfit. If you want the job, you have to wear the uniform. Besides, that's probably much more than you wear to the beach."

"But I'm in the habit of wearing quite a bit more to work, Mr. LaRossa." She took out the costume and examined it more closely. The material was very nice indeed, if only there were more of it.

"Alright, I guess, I'll wear your uniform, Mr. LaRossa." Victoria put the garment down on the counter with resignation.

Mike felt triumphant.

"I need you back here around five-thirty when Della, my head barmaid, comes in. She can show you the ropes. Oh, by the way, you'll need black mesh hose to complete the uniform." He reached into the cash register and took out a twenty for her to buy the stockings with.

"Thanks," said Victoria, reaching for the money. "See you later, Mr. LaRossa."

"Mike's fine, Miss Bell."

"My friends call me Tory," she said, softening a bit.

"Okay, Tory, see you later," said Mike, and he started polishing glasses behind the bar.

Victoria left the tavern and went back out into the bright spring sunshine, feeling considerably better about the state of affairs in the world--her world anyway. She turned to look at the place. Inside, the nightclub had a nice warm wood bar and stools, but otherwise it was rather plain and dowdy. But this was just a job, an interim job until she decided what she wanted to do next. Even should the waitress position not work out, at least it would give her temporary shelter while she planned her future.

She thought about her new boss and remembered the warning bell that went off in her head as she filled out the application, Beware of bartenders! So Mr. Mike LaRossa was handsome with those killer long eye lashes and muscular build, so he was charming, so what? She shook her long auburn hair defiantly and decided to go do her shopping for the black net stockings needed for her uniform such as it was.

It had been a very long day already, and it was not even noon yet. She stopped at the nearest hosiery store and bought a pair of black mesh stockings. Then she went to her apartment for a long nap before work. It was odd thinking about going to work in the evening and sleeping in the morning. It was going to be a new experience for her. In the past, she had to punch a clock somewhere early every morning, even though she was not an early riser by nature. Perhaps this new job would be enjoyable after all.

SAN FRANCISCO LADY - PAT SMITH

CHAPTER TWO

Victoria walked into her apartment with the small sack containing her purchase, removed her clothes and fell into bed beside her sleeping gray cat, Miss Magic. She had no trouble falling asleep and in her dreams, she met a handsome man with sandy blond hair and dark brown eyes, the same warm brown eyes as Mike LaRossa. A few hours later she awoke to unaccustomed daylight, and she experienced a feeling of lightness as if the weight of all of those miserable hours at Worthington and Worthington had just drifted away.

She pulled the black net stockings over her long bare legs, then slipped into the scanty waitress outfit. It was well made and fit her to a tee. But she realized it would never do to catch a bus in. She hastily threw on her raincoat and decided to stop for a bowl of clam chowder at the corner cafe where she liked the food, since she had not taken time to eat since breakfast toast.

The chowder was hot and full of vegetables, just the way her mother made it back home. She would have to call mother tomorrow and catch her up on all the job news. Mom probably won't be too happy about me becoming a barmaid, Victoria thought, and I'll certainly have to leave out the part about how handsome my new boss is.

She finished her soup just in time to run for the bus that would carry her across town to her new job in the Quality Hill area.

She thought entering Mike's Place at night was a completely different world. Glasses were clinking as Mike worked setting out drink orders for the other waitresses. Victoria did not care much for smoke, and she guessed that Mike had a good ventilation system because the air was breathable. Victoria didn’t care for the taste of beer either, but there was a pleasant yeasty smell to Mike's Place as he set out the foaming mugs.

Candles flickered on the tables, making conversations more intimate. The music coming from the jukebox in the corner was heavy with the sounds of jazz, but Victoria was sure that she'd hear most any tune, from country to rock and beyond, as Mike's patrons plunked down their coins.

After she arrived, the bar rapidly filled up with a delightful assortment of characters. The head barmaid proved to be the most conspicuous.

"Tory, I want you to meet, Della. She'll train you." Mike immediately propelled Victoria toward Della after she entered the bar. She barely had a chance to enjoy the warmth of Mike's hand guiding her across the room.

"Carumba, Mike, I didn't know you were hiring giraffes this season," cracked Della, eyeing Victoria's height.

Victoria just stared at Della, a short well-built blond with a face that would stop a clock.

"Nice to meet you, Della." She held her hand out to Della. She looks just like a troll doll, Victoria thought to herself. Della glared at her as if she could read Victoria’s mind.

Victoria followed meekly and could feel Mike's eyes on her as she walked around the bar. She glanced in his direction several times and occasionally their eyes met. The result was a tingling sensation that went through the region around Victoria's heart, and she could tell that he was feeling something, too.

Mike had sienna brown eyes, warm with golden highlights. He was very muscular, but then Victoria had seen him lifting the heavy beer kegs into place behind the counter and she knew he got a daily workout. His hair was the soft, sandy color of straw and it laid in neat waves except for some strands that fell into his eyes. He had the squared jaw of a determined man. It was a good thing she was not going to get involved with him; they would probably get along like a cat and dog.

"No, I will not allow this to happen. All bartenders are wolves just like Mom always said, and I will not be wolf bait!" Victoria told herself sternly.

"Keep your eyes on your work, Hon. We got customers to wait on here." Della missed nothing.

Victoria blushed and said, "Excuse me?"

"Don't bat those big blue eyes at me. They may impress Mike, but he's at that impressionable age," Della snapped.

Victoria hurried about taking drink orders and clearing tables, but no matter how fast she went, she could never keep up with Della. The woman was positively amazing. She never forgot a drink, never spilled a drink, and worked rings around everyone.

Later when they were both waiting for Mike to make their orders, Della softened a little. "Mike, I have to tell you that Victoria's a hard worker. For her first night and no experience, she's doing real well, especially since you two stopped making goo-goo eyes at each other."

"Oh no, I should have known it was too much for her to just say something nice about me!" Victoria said to Michael after Della walked away to get another order. She didn't know whether to be mad, proud, or just embarrassed.

"It's okay, Tory," said Mike. "Della must really be impressed with you because it's not like her to say anything pleasant about our waitresses on their first night. As for the other, I have been watching you, Tory. It's my job to keep an eye on new employees."

Victoria gazed at Mike in sheer amazement. His words were sincere but there was a look in his warm brown eyes that went beyond what he said. He was being so open, so honest about his attraction to her and not the least bit pushy, even if he were the boss. After her experience with Robert Worthington, it seemed hard to believe how pleasant an employer could be.

"Thank you very much, but is this evening just about over? I'm so tired after today and my terrible evening last night that I could just about drop," Victoria said.

"I know about your getting fired this morning, but whatever happened last night, Tory?" Mike questioned.

"It's a long story. Too long to go into right now, Michael."

"Why don't you take the rest of the evening off?" suggested Mike. "Della can show you about closing tomorrow night."

"Thanks, Michael, I really mean it."

"I'll close for you tonight, Tory, but tomorrow night you'll learn about cleaning up and stocking things, the less glamorous side of our life here at Mike's Place. Della's voice came up behind her and it sounded threatening.

"I'm sorry if I'm putting any extra work on you, Della," Victoria said.

"Trust me, kid, I'll get even with you."

"Girls, girls!" Mike interjected.

"It's okay, Michael, I'm leaving." With that, Victoria grabbed her stuff and waved a cheery good night to Mike, and headed for the bus stop just a short distance down the street.

After the stuffy bar atmosphere, the warm spring night caused instant relief to Victoria's head. She was drowsy from her long day, and her feet ached from the unaccustomed hours waiting tables. The bus came almost at once and Victoria climbed on and sat down with relief. She would have to shop for some comfortable shoes to go with her waitress outfit with her tip money. Her pocket was bulging pleasantly with money from her first night's work. It was a sleepy neighborhood bar, but they did a good business.

She walked into her apartment, and instantly Miss Magic rubbed against her legs, meowing pathetically for food, although her dry food was scarcely touched.

"What a spoiled baby," Victoria crooned to her cat, and promptly put out some moist food and a saucer of milk. "Miss Magic, you must think you have me well trained."

Victoria indulged her whim for a tuna fish sandwich and a big glass of milk, before running herself a hot bubble bath to soothe away the long day and night's tensions. She eased herself into the bubbles and closed her eyes. Sure enough, there was Mike LaRossa, or someone who looked a great deal like him, popping into her daydreams, unbidden. She hoped he might be thinking of her. But she could never trust someone like him in a relationship. It seemed useless to dream, but somehow she couldn't bring herself to stop either. She stepped out of the tub and dried well before hopping into bed.

Victoria opened an eye as thunder boomed outside her window. Glancing at the clock, she realized it was late morning, the clouds had gathered and thunder and lightning accompanied the rain as it streaked down her window like so many tears.

"Oh darn, and I need to go shopping for shoes," she moaned from under her downy quilt.

She struggled out from under the covers and threw on her robe. Drowsily, she made herself a cup of coffee and her usual toast. She poured Miss Magic some fresh water and sat down to enjoy a morning talk show. Because of her previous work schedule, she had not had a chance to see morning television in several years and she was enjoying the change of pace. The subject was date rape, and because of her recent experience with Robert Worthington, chills went down her spine. She got up, snapped off the television, and prepared to leave. A thought popped into her mind.....at least with Mike LaRossa, she would probably never have to worry about that situation. He seemed much too polite and mature for such antics.

Victoria got her poka-dotted umbrella from the closet, put on her rain coat and started out the door. It was probably not the best day for shopping but if she went to a mall, at least she could be dry while she browsed the shoe stores. She could own a million pairs of shoes and still not have enough. She might only have a few blouses and skirts, but shoes were her weakness.

The shopping took awhile before she was back home getting ready for another night's work. It felt like a relaxed routine after years of waking at dawn. Last night did get a little long, but she could get used to the late hours eventually.

* * * *

Mike was setting up for the evening when Victoria came in. His heart gave an unfamiliar lurch. He was a bartender and he had his share of women who flirted with him. Victoria did not fit the norm. For one thing, she did not appear to care about him all that much. She was cordial enough, but so distant. That distance challenged his male ego.

His glance strayed from her beautiful eyes to her figure, sharply accented in the black ruffled satin outfit. He had chosen the uniforms carefully for his waitresses to make them stand out in a town with a bounty of night spots. The Quality Hill area had its share of apartment dwellers and businesses like Worthington's Law Firm, so Mike's got a mixed clientele.

Della had been right about Victoria being different from the usual barmaids he hired. Mike favored short women with large bosoms and padded rear ends--preferably blondes. Victoria, however, was tall and slender with an athletic build and gorgeous long red hair that flowed down her back. Mike couldn't take his eyes off her. She radiated liveliness and good humor. He seldom had his advances thwarted either. He would find a way to interest her. He had to or lose his mind, that girl had created an itch in him that just had to be scratched.

The evening wore on with the usual assortment of people: the neighborhood denizens, Mike's good old buddies from his boxing days with the crooked noses and conspicuous scars slashing through their eyebrows, not to mention the strays that wound up in every bar, looking for love

* * * *.

Victoria became aware of Mike's glances, and she found herself returning a few of them. She felt sure an evening with Mike LaRossa would be everything that an evening with Robert Worthington had not been. But that was the problem; if she fell for a bartender, it would be the same as a guaranteed broken heart. Her mother had always said these things were predictable, and her mother had usually been right about the romance stuff.

As she hurried around the room taking orders, she was suddenly aware that Robert Worthington and the strange blonde, Yvette, had entered the bar. Victoria motioned to Della to take their order, and she hurried into the shadows to watch them as she worked. The slight blonde clung to Robert's side with a pathetic tenacity as though she feared he might be snatched from her arms. He did not seat himself at the bar as he had when Victoria was with him, but instead chose a table. Della brought them doubles in due time and, from the smile on her face, had received a hefty tip. She made an okay hand signal to Victoria.

Well, at least I've finally been able to score a point with Della, Victoria thought.

A man entered the bar and went straight for Robert's table. Victoria was curious so she crept closer, staying in the shadows so she could hear their conversation.

"Why, Miss Sims, I thought you were too uptown for a place like this," the strange man chided Yevette.

Yvette put her hand on Robert's arm possessively. "Doctor Derofert, this is Attorney Robert Worthington, and I'm with him. Robert, this is Doctor Derofert from the clinic where I work."

They were both tall men, but Robert was considerably stockier. Victoria could tell by Yvette's gesture toward Robert that she was enamored with him. For the life of her, Victoria could not think why. Or was Yvette attempting to make the doctor jealous of Robert?

Doctor Derofert and Robert shook hands, and then the doctor left the table and continued to the bar.

Robert and Yvette appeared to be in deep conversation and nothing out of the ordinary was happening, so Victoria decided to go on about her business as usual and just stay away from their table. Robert must have decided to make a trip to the men's room for he suddenly stood directly in Victoria's path.

"My dear," he said. "I never realized when you were let go that you'd wind up in a place like this!" Robert's face was the picture of disapproval and pity.

"It just so happens I like it here, Mr. Worthington, much more than at your office," Victoria shot back at him.

"It's a shame, nevertheless, you working here. If you ever want your old job back, just come see me, my dear," and he smiled wickedly at her.

"In a pig's eye, Mr. Worthington!" Victoria shouted at him.

Mike came out from behind the bar. "Is this guy bothering you, Tory?"

"No, not tonight, and never again," Victoria said. Robert glanced darkly at Mike. She saw Mike's puzzled look, so she explained.

"I made an error in judgment and accepted a date with this so-called gentleman once, in fact, I even worked for him once. But once was more than enough."

"I get it, the horrible evening followed by you getting fired." Mike said.

"That's right, Michael, you do pay attention," she said.

"There are more than enough bars in this city, Mister. You leave my waitresses alone, or leave!" Mike threatened Robert, and despite Robert's bulk, Mike was obviously in superior condition for fighting.

Robert obviously thought it over and decided to back down and returned to his table to Yvette. Tory watched as he sat next to Yvette and from his body language, it was apparent that he was angry. Yvette seemed to be questioning him about why he had talked to Tory. He drummed his fingers on the table impatiently as Yvette finished her drink, and then Robert heaved his bulk out of the chair and they left.

Victoria felt relieved, as if Mike standing up to Robert had evened her score with her former employer. In the back of her mind, she had been worried about having to face Robert again. Now it was over. The rest of the evening went swiftly, even the cleanup and stocking. True to her word, Della had left the clean up for Victoria to finish alone. Victoria hated housework on general principals and only did it because she liked the results so well. But occasionally she let the dust collect while she worked up the courage to tackle it. However, the presence of tips in her pocket made the whole miserable business of cleaning a bit more enjoyable.

When she got her coat to leave, she found Mike at her elbow.

"I'll walk you to the bus, Tory."

"That's really not necessary, Michael."

"I think it is, Tory."

He held her coat and they left together. Mike locked up on their way out.

Victoria felt her heart racing, just having him so close. Part of the feelings she had for him was gratitude that he had come to her defense earlier in the evening. The rest of it was simply the man and his effect on her.

Mike mopped his brow as they walked. "Is it unusually warm for this time of the night?"

Victoria looked at him and said, "Yes." But she clearly knew the reason she was feeling warm, and it had nothing to do with the outside temperature.

They stood close together, waiting for her bus to come. Mike reached out and took Victoria's hand. She started to turn away, but instead left her hand in his and smiled up at him with a clear steady gaze.

"Thanks again for tonight," she said.

"Oh, I was hoping for more than just gratitude here." Mike sounded disappointed.

"Really? Oh well, here's my bus." She disengaged her hand and hurried to board.

Mike stood there. Victoria turned at the last minute and blew him a kiss. He watched her disappear with a smile on his face.

* * * *

Maybe she was just shy? Well, he didn't have much experience with shy women. She was from a small town after all. What did he expect from a woman like her? Probably a lot more than she would be able to give on such short notice. He just needed to take things very slow and easy, or he would lose her for sure. Her episode with that fellow in the bar could not have done much to improve her trust where men were concerned.

Chapter Three

SAN FRANCISCO LADY - PAT SMITH

Victoria arrived home and floated up to her apartment on a cloud of loving emotion. She took off her clothes and jumped into bed. There were butterflies in her stomach and her feet felt as if they had never touched the ground. It felt terribly wonderful to be in such marvelous pain. He clearly liked her. But he wasn't right for her, not in the least. Her heart seemed very rebellious in the matter of Mike LaRossa. She had never felt this way before, and she was certain she would never feel this way again. She couldn't wait to go to work to see him. On the other hand, she never wanted to see him again either.

"Miss Magic," she complained to her cat curled up on her covers. "I'm afraid that I'm falling in love, and I've never felt anything more wonderful, or more painful, in my life."

In the morning, Victoria rose late and did her morning chores in a hurry so she could go out to enjoy the returning sunshine. It was clearly going to be a beautiful day in San Francisco; a day to seek a special place for lunch. She caught the street car to Chinatown. The main street arch graced with green tiled arches and gold dragons on top beckoned her. The two golden serpents loomed before her as they topped the green tiled gate entrance to the inner city. On either side of the columns supporting the tile roof, the temple dogs stood guard against evil spirits. Shops were on every side, stocked with lovely oriental furniture, jewelry and clothing. She looked longingly in the many windows until she spotted the perfect restaurant. The menu looked inviting and listed her favorite--egg drop soup and broccoli beef. The restaurant itself was on the second floor. She climbed the red carpeted stairs expectantly. She was not disappointed. The place was large and quiet with spotless white table clothes and black lacquered chairs.

The waiter did not speak much English so she used some sign language to place her order. After he left, she went to the cash register and bought a daily newspaper to keep her company while she waited for her food. San Francisco was surely one of the most beautiful cities in the world. Who wouldn’t love to live here surrounded on one side by the ocean in constant movement, the forlorn cry of the gulls as you walk down the sandy beaches. All of the wonderful exotic cultures that blended together to create the wonderful foods and coffees and tea, her favorite beverage.

She opened the paper and immediately wished she had not. There on the front page was a picture of Robert's pale, blond girlfriend. The article stated that after the date with Robert, the girl had returned home and evidently surprised a burglar in her apartment who savagely murdered her. Victoria had only seen her a couple of times, but it was a shock nevertheless. Victoria read further. Evidently, Robert had an airtight alibi, for the police were satisfied that he was not a suspect. What possible reason would he have had to murder the blond anyway? She had plainly adored him. But for all that, he seemed to have been agitated with her.

Victoria ate her lunch and decided to go back home and get ready for work. The world was not the bright place it had been only minutes before. Still, she had a secret that put a smile back on her lips. She was madly in love with Mike LaRossa and he would never, could never, know.

At work she went straight to Mike and showed him the story in the newspaper.

"That's the girl who was in here last night with your old boss! Damn. I didn't realize he was an attorney," said Mike. "I didn't ask you about the guy last night because I didn't want to upset you."

"Thanks, Michael, that was considerate of you. This really startled me. She came here last night, and now she's dead, brutally murdered." Tory shivered at the thought.

"Do you feel like working tonight?" Mike asked with concern.

"Sure, it's better not to brood about a thing like this. I'll be fine. I just wanted to show you the article. I don't have anybody else here close to share my feelings with. If I called my mother back home and talked to her, she'd expect me to pack my bags and return at once," Victoria admitted woefully.

"Tory, I'm always here for you...for any of my girls," he said. "Do you have burglar locks on your doors?"

"Yes, and I keep them locked all the time. It was such a horrible murder...stabbed eleven times." As she spoke, Victoria's lip quivered, and Mike instinctively reached out to put an arm around her shoulders.

She gasped at his touch, the feeling between them was visible, like an electric light show. Mike looked deeply into her eyes as if pleading for a chance with her.

"We could go out after closing for a late supper tonight and talk, Tory."

"I'd really like that, Michael." Victoria could not help herself. Not only was she enamored with Mike, but now since the murder, she also felt afraid of being alone. She desperately needed a friendly shoulder to lean on.

She freed herself from Mike's embrace and retrieved the paper, before proceeding to the coat rack. It was going to be a long evening.

When Della came in, she smiled at Victoria. Victoria wanted to talk to another woman, so she took the paper over to show Della when there was a slow minute in the bar.

"That's terrible, Tory. And you actually knew this Worthington guy?"

"Yes, he used to be one of my bosses, and I went out with him once. Only he wasn't very nice. That's what the argument was about last night."

"Do you think he killed her?" asked Della seriously.

"No, I really don't. The police are satisfied with his alibi, and besides, why would he kill her? She seemed to be crazy about him." Victoria grimaced, then added, "Although I can't think why."

"There's no accounting for the men some women love," replied Della sadly.

"Why do you say that?" asked Victoria.

"I have a little boy. You know how it is, Tory? We were madly in love, si? We were young, and I thought in time we would marry. Then I became pregnant and he only stayed around for a little while. To make a long story short, his father dumped me so we had to live with my Mom. Not the best arrangement in the world." Della shrugged her shoulders and turned to go back to work.

"Oh, I'm so sorry." Victoria looked with new understanding at the efficient Della. No wonder she was so good at her job; she had to be to support herself and her little boy. No wonder she tended to be a bit on the grumpy side. It had to be a heavy load for Della.

Victoria grabbed some clean ash trays and began setting them out on the tables. She was lost in her thoughts as the first customers began arriving. She could hear her mother's voice warning her about men, and she struggled with the thought that her date with Mike might not be in her best interest.

The bar filled up as the evening progressed, when suddenly a huge form darkened the doorway. The biggest man that Victoria had ever seen came into the bar and sat down at one of her tables. She hesitated, but Della appeared from nowhere and urged her to go take his order. Victoria thought she detected a giggle from Della.

"Pretty lady, Moose wants a beer. Make that two beers!"

Victoria was startled at the sight of the huge man sitting before her. She hurried off and returned almost instantly with his beers placing them carefully on the table before him.

"Thanks, pretty lady. Here," he said and handed her a crumpled dollar bill.

She thanked him and turned to go when she felt a pinch on her black ruffled bottom. It was a light pinch, considering the size of the man, but definitely a pinch.

"You!" Victoria turned on Moose with hand outstretched ready to strike him.

Out of the corner of her eye, Victoria saw Mike leap from behind the bar and make the distance between them in a flash. He grabbed her hand.

"Tory, this is my old boxing buddy, Moose. Please don't slap him," Mike pleaded with her, and then whispered in her ear, "That's the reason I quit the game when I did...brain damage. But Moose is a good person. It just wouldn't do to upset him. Look at the size of him."

Victoria thought about what Mike said and put her hand down. Mike released his hold.

Della came over, laughing. "It's okay, kid. Moose gets a kick out of those little pinches of his, but he doesn't mean anything by it. Do you, Moose?"

"I like you, pretty lady." Moose looked puzzled at Victoria's reaction.

"It's all right, Moose. I'm just not used to being pinched." Victoria walked away, suppressing a giggle. It really had been funny when she thought about it. But at the same time, she wondered if Moose could be dangerous? She was meeting people on this new job that she had never met the likes of before. She determined to keep her well backside away from any pinches in the future.

The evening ended with Victoria and Della both sharing the closing chores.

"Have a good time, you two," Della said graciously as Mike and Victoria left hand in hand.

"Do I sense a thawing between you and Della?" asked Mike.

"You might say that. Actually she's all right when you get to know her." Victoria smiled.

"Tory, you never cease to amaze me. Is no one immune to your charms?"

"On my last job my track record was not so impressive," she said. "Remember, they fired me."

"Yeah, well, I met one of your bosses, and I can't see anyone in their right mind working very long for a jerk like Worthington," declared Mike.

"Thanks, Michael." She grinned at him. "Are we headed anywhere in particular?"

"Just around the corner." He steered her into a cozy little twenty-four hour restaurant.

"On our time schedule I guess fancy places are out; we're confined to what stays open all night," she remarked.

"Do I hear grumbling, Tory?" asked Mike.

"Well, I did think we might have fancier surroundings."

"Just wait until you taste the food."

"I guess I had this dream place in my mind. But you're right, Michael, the food is what counts," she said. He could tell she was tired, and even the excitement of being together did not seem to change her moodiness.

They had held hands while walking and, now seated inside the restaurant, Mike continued to hold her hand gingerly. She looked into his dark eyes and felt the magic building between them.

"Tory, I'll take you on a real date Wednesday evening, your day off. Dinner, dancing, the theater, whatever your heart desires," Mike said.

"Oh, that would be wonderful! I'm sorry to be so down tonight. I'm a little tired...and Yvette's dreadful murder. It's not the company, Michael, honest," she said, then added, "But you never take Wednesdays off, do you?"

"I'm the boss. I can take a Wednesday evening off if I choose. And I understand that it's been a rough day. I'm sort of tired myself," admitted Mike.

Their food came and Mike saw that Victoria was delighted with her cob salad with crumbled bacon, egg slices, juicy tomato wedges and a tangy ranch house dressing. While she picked at her vegetables, Mike wolfed down his hot Ruben sandwich and potato salad.

"Dessert?" asked the waitress when they finished eating.

Mike knew what he wanted. "Hot fudge cake sundae with whipped cream and nuts and cherries, please, ma'am. Tory?"

"Gee, I don't believe so. Just bring me a spoon and I'll try a bite of his...if he'll let me." Victoria laughed.

"I suppose you're referring to my hearty appetite," he growled.

"Just wait, in another twenty years, you're going to have to put the brakes on, Mr. LaRossa."

"You might be right, Tory. Who knows, maybe you'll be there to keep an eye on me and my waistline?" The words just came out of his mouth. He had made it a point never to mislead any of his lady friends with statements about tomorrow. And here he was telling Victoria about twenty years from now, and this was their first date. But she had not jumped on what he had said, or even seemed to notice how taken he was with her.

The waitress brought the fudge cake with vanilla ice cream melting down it's sides and chocolate fudge drizzled over all.

Mike's eyes lit up like a small boy's. He handed Victoria a spoon and they both ate gooey mouthfuls. Victoria gave up quickly, but Mike made some real inroads into the glorious dessert before he, too, gave up.

"If we can still walk out of here, I'll take you home, Tory."

"Thanks, Michael. I enjoyed being with you more than you know," she said lightly. "The food was wonderful too."

Mike paid the check, and they walked down to an all-night garage where he kept his old Chevy truck, and he drove her home.

"I'm just a good ole country boy, Tory," he explained as he helped her from his truck.

"You're a lot of things, Michael LaRossa, and certainly big city in some ways."

"Yes," he agreed. "Owning a bar and boxing for a living does tend to put a little big city polish on one. But if you scratch the surface, I'm still a small town boy underneath."

"Thank you again for a wonderful evening, Michael. As you already know, I'm just a small town girl living in the big city." Victoria reached up and kissed him soundly on the mouth and then disappeared into her apartment, closing the door softly behind her.

"See you tomorrow, Tory." he said to the closed door and walked away happily. She had kissed him good night. Surely that was a good sign. Maybe she was beginning to warm up to him. Wednesday night might just turn out to be a very interesting evening. He wanted much more than a good night kiss from Victoria Bell. How much, he was not willing to admit, even to himself. She stirred deep needs in him beyond the usual sex and games.

Victoria appeared for work the next evening, a tad late as usual. She hoped Mike didn’t notice.

"There's someone to see you, Tory," Mike said, pointing to the end of the bar.

Victoria turned and clutched the counter.

"Victoria, I know it must be a shock to see me here, especially after our last unpleasant encounter," Robert said.

"Robert...Mr. Worthington, I just read about Yvette."

"Yes, the tragedy of her death made me realize I owed you an apology. I behaved very badly, Victoria, please forgive me."

Even though his words sounded sincere, she would never trust him again. "I accept your apology, Robert."

"Thank you, Victoria. I explained to Mike that I just felt this was something I had to do. Square accounts, so to speak. I'd like to buy you both a drink, if you'd let me."

"Thank you, Robert, but I don't drink on the job," she explained. "Bad habit to get into, you know."

Mike shook his head. "None for me, thanks anyway, Robert."

"If you'd excuse us a minute, Mike, I'd like to speak to Victoria, alone."

Mike leaned toward her and whispered, "I'm right here if you need me, Tory."

Robert and Victoria walked to a nearby table and sat down. "What is it that you want to speak to me about, Robert?" she asked.

"The timing is bad, Victoria, but I never really loved Yvette. It was one sided, if you know what I mean."

"I gathered that from the evening we were out together when Yvette came up to us."

"I really did care about you, Victoria, if you can believe that after all that's happened," he said as he laid his pudgy hand on hers.

She swallowed her revulsion and withdrew her hand sharply.

"Robert, I'm truly sorry about Yvette, and I realize you're probably at loose ends, but I really have no interest in dating you at this time," Victoria said crisply. She looked around the room, spotted Mike, then said quickly, "In fact, I'm dating someone now."

"Who?" asked Robert, his narrow beady eyes suspicious.

Victoria struggled with the thought that it was none of his business who she was dating, but just to make sure he didn't bother her again, she left the table and went to the counter and put her arm around Mike, hoping he'd understand her dilemma and play along. "This is who I'm dating, Robert," she said and grinned lamely at Mike.

Mike put his arm around her waist. Victoria was thankful for Mike's reaction and could tell Robert was not happy about the situation.

"You seem to have a fondness for your employers, don't you, Victoria?" With that snide remark, Robert turned and strode out of the bar.

"I hope that's the last I see of him!" Victoria breathed deeply.

"You and me both. I'd still like to punch his lights out," Mike said. "He said he only wanted to apologize to you, Tory, and I believed him."

"He wanted a good deal more, Michael. Thanks for being here." She kissed him lightly on the cheek and went back to work.

* * * *

Mike looked at his watch a few minutes later as Della came in. "What is it about tonight? All my waitresses are running late."

"Sorry, Mike, Hector was sick, tonsils again," Della explained. "I had to get him some antibiotics." She went about her work as the customers started arriving.

Mike again noted the time as Doctor Anthony Derofert sat down on a barstool; he was earlier than usual. Anthony was a surgeon, and he'd been in the bar before to have a beer or two, to unwind after a long day at St. Claire Hospital. He was a tall, dark haired man with an olive complexion.

"Why so early, Doc?" asked Mike.

"My patient expired, so the surgery I had scheduled wasn't necessary."

"I'm sorry, but I guess you're used to that," Mike said.

"I'm as used to death as one ever gets; death is a natural consequence of life," Anthony said quietly and took a drink of his beer.

Mike spoke to Della on the other side of the counter. "Sometimes the Doc gives me the creeps."

Della looked at Anthony with wistful eyes. "I personally think he's cute." With that she flounced off to wait tables.

Louise came in and sat down at the bar. She was a regular, and Mike thought, something of a looker, too.

"Evening, Mike."

"Hey, Louise," Mike answered, pouring her a glass of white wine.

Since Anthony was sitting next to Louise, Mike introduced them. "This is Louise. Louise, this is Doctor Anthony Derofert."

Anthony smiled and said, "Nice to meet you." Then he turned to Mike, "Could I have a cup of pretzels? I forgot to eat again today."

"Sure." Mike handed Anthony the pretzels, watching him and Louise. Mike had the strange feeling that they already knew each other.

Louise took her drink and went to a table where some other friends of her’s were sitting.

"Hey, by the way, who's that new barmaid, Mike? The red head." Anthony said on the sly.

"You don't miss much, do you, Doc?" remarked Mike.

"No, mon ami, I don't."

"Victoria Bell, but it won't do you much good. Reserved is the name for her."

"Why did you hire her then, Mike?"

Mike nodded towards Victoria and grinned. "Let's just say I like a challenge."

SAN FRANCISCO LADY - PAT SMITH

CHAPTER FOUR

Wednesday, the evening of their big date, arrived at last. She could hardly wait and yet she was afraid of what the outcome might be. Did he love her, did he not? The question loomed like a sword above her heart. Victoria dressed in the brightest colors of spring she could find. The bright blues would make her look confident even if she was crumbling inside. She still felt very unsure of Mike and of herself. But she looked forward to the night with feverish intensity. Somehow, the very uncertainty of the situation heightened her anticipation. The buzzer sounded causing Victoria to jump up with a start. She opened the door and just stared at Mike hungrily.

"You look famished, Tory. Guess we had better head out. Have you decided where we're going?" asked Mike.

Victoria smiled to herself. If he was such a big bad wolf, he had sure misread her signals.

She thought a minute before suggesting, "How about someplace posh with seafood?"

"Ah, I know just the place, and it's close to the theater. We have tickets for the eight-thirty show so we had better get a move on, Tory." Mike took her arm tenderly and led her to his truck. As they drove off into the night, she felt as if she didn't have a care in the world. The lovely warm evening breezes enveloped her with sweet smelling scents. Mike kept glancing in her direction as they drove along. He seemed to sense her desire to be closer and put his arm around her sending a ripple of excitement coursing through her. Too soon they arrived at the first stop of the evening.

Mike lead her into the dining room with his arm firmly circling her shoulders. The room done like a ship's cabin with copper lanterns hanging on the walls and rounded portholes for windows gave an ambiance of intimacy she hadn't expected.

"Would you like a drink, Tory?" asked Mike interrupting her inspection of the room.

"I don't drink much, but for tonight maybe just one. Something tropical I think," she said.

"Tropical Hurricane with two straws, please," Mike told the waiter, and then winked wickedly at Victoria.

A large globe filled with a delightful golden liquid and floating fruit on skewers was brought. Victoria placed the straw between her lips and was rewarded with a sweet, unusual taste.

"Hmm, you know your drinks, Michael," she said.

"I should, Tory, after all, that's my business."

"True, but I've never seen anything like this at Mike's Place.

"Ah, but I had some bartending experience before I bought Mike's," he said.

"Makes sense. Somehow, I never thought of you anywhere else," she said. When at work Victoria noticed how relaxed Mike was with the customers, always caring and listening and even advising them on occasion. Mike's Place suited him.

"You have that right about me, Tory. I never found it easy to work for someone else. I much prefer to be my own boss."

"That's one of the things I like about you, Mr. LaRossa, you're so self-assured." She looked into his eyes, which were glowing with lights from the candle flickering on their table.

"Tory, I'm glad to hear there are qualities you like about me, because I was beginning to wonder if maybe I just wasn't your cup of tea?"

"Nothing like that, Michael. It's just that..." Her voice trailed off, as the waiter brought their appetizers. It was a flaming tray filled with Polynesian goodies the likes of which Victoria had never tasted.

"Is there someone else in your life?" asked Mike.

"No," she replied truthfully, as she tentatively bit into a tender shrimp morsel she'd dipped in sweet and sour sauce.

Mike sighed. "If it's not some other guy, and you like at least some things about me, just what is it?"

Victoria just clamed up and looked at him inscrutably like an adorable Chinese Buddha.

"Women!" said Mike under his breath.

After the meal, they rushed off to the theater and reached their seats just in time for the opening curtain. The wonderful play filled with laughter and music, "The Marriage Go Round", wrapped her in a warm, light-hearted mood. When it was over, they left arm in arm and Mike gave her a light kiss, while they waited for his truck to be brought around.

"Hmm, tastes even better than the shrimp, Michael," Victoria murmured in his ear. His nearness made goose bumps on her bare arms while her heart pounded in a most unusual way.

"You can have all of that you want, anytime, Tory," he said, wrapping his arms fiercely around her and pressing his body firmly against hers.

"We don't have time now, Michael. We're off to do some dancing." She laughed wickedly and danced away from his embrace. Shaken by the continuing nearness of him, she bit her lip and tried to concentrate on anything but him. It was useless.

"You sure know how to frustrate a man, Victoria Bell," Mike complained in a teasing way.

They drove off to a hotel that had a gorgeous ballroom festooned in velvet ribbons. Victoria had every intention of dancing the night away.

Victoria's cheeks were pink with desire as she allowed herself to be swept into Mike's arms for the first slow dance. She loved being so near to him, but she felt the fast dances were less dangerous. He held her so close that she could scarcely breath, and the heat building between them was almost unbearable.

"I never knew love could be like this." The words escaped her lips before she realized it.

Mike stood motionless and asked, "Is that it, Tory, you love me? That's a pretty heavy committed word, love."

"What did you think I felt for you?" She could tell, as he looked into her eyes, that he was trying to find confirmation of what she had just told him.

"Well, I’m just not used to people saying they love me. Like me, want my body, but love? That’s a different story." Mike stood still in the middle of the dance floor, looking like someone had struck him.

"But I’m different, Michael, I can’t be anyone but me. I wish I could but I can’t."

"I hear what you say, Tory, but I just don’t have an answer on the tip of my tongue."

"No, no, I'm sorry, Michael, this just won't do. Please take me home now." Tears came into her eyes and she turned away from him. She should never have let him know the depth of her feelings for him. She knew he did not go for committed relationships; he was a bartender intent on one night stands. She would never be happy in the only kind of relationship Mike wanted, so why kid herself?

Mike did as she asked. Solemnly, he took her home. Victoria saw the hurt on his face and felt that he would probably stay away from her from now on. He wanted her tonight, that was plain to see. But she could not handle that kind of love. Her heart would only be broken more the longer she stayed with him. Mike walked slowly away as Victoria took her key out of her purse and opened the door and paused. She turned her head and watched his retreating figure as he left with his head down and his hands hanging limply at his side. He looked like he had been kicked in the mid section. That was exactly the way she felt. She would have given anything if she could have invited him in for endless nights of passion. She never knew that this love feeling could have the kick of a mule. Tears started flowing from her eyes as she walked into her lonely apartment and closed the door..

Mike only felt more confused as time passed. He woke up at night turning this thing with Tory over and over in his mind. She had said she loved him, it should have been a simple thing like the other relationships he was accustomed to. A few nights of fun and each person goes there own way when one of them gets bored with the other. But Victoria had to be different. She was there, in his bar, a permanent fixture to be looked at but not touched. Why did he continue to have these feelings of wanting her long after he felt sure her interest in him had died? He looked away when she came into the room and hid the pain that glazed his eyes. No other woman could fill the emptiness in his heart. During the long nights alone, he thought of the sweetness of her, the honesty.

But she wanted more than he was prepared to give. He couldn't change that much, could he?

"Damned if I know?" Mike blurted out and punched his fist into the pillow under his head, then he rolled over and went back to sleep.

* * * *

Spring turned to summer and Victoria continued to enjoy her job at the bar. Mike always seemed very polite to her, but obviously his attraction to her had died. He never flirted with her anymore, but sometimes she thought she could still see interest in his eyes. It hurt her, but it was for the best. A little hurt now far better than getting involved and winding up with a big hurt later. He had said love was a committed word. Well, at least he had been honest. Obviously, he was not the committed kind. A lot of women came in and were more than a little interested in him. She never saw him actually take anyone out, but that didn't prove anything. He probably saw a lot of women after hours.

She and Della closed up as usual and walked to the bus stop together as had become their custom. Victoria had the feeling every so often that someone was following them since early spring. She had not seen anymore of her former boss, Robert Worthington. Moose now seemed a familiar, if somewhat bigger than life, sight at the bar so he no longer could be a cause for anxiety. There was no one she could pinpoint to confide in about her feelings. She said goodnight to Della when her bus came and continued her journey home alone.

As always Miss Magic circled around her legs in greeting. Victoria picked her up and brushed her soft fur against her cheek. She set the cat at the foot of her bed and soon both were curled up fast asleep. After midnight a noise woke Victoria. She struggled to sit up and realized that Miss Magic was growling and creeping towards the end of the bed. In the moonlight, Victoria could make out a large form on the balcony outside her apartment. The door knob turned ominously as the intruder tried to enter. At first she could make no sound and a scream froze in her throat, but at last the shrill noise of her scream shattered the eerie quiet. She watched the ominous shadow vanish down the wrought iron stairs that led from balcony to balcony at the back of her apartment building. The retreating footsteps on the stairs made a loud racket that echoed in her ears.

Victoria leaped from her bed and called the police, shaking all the while. They came at once and pounded on her door. She let them in gratefully and showed them to the balcony where the shadow had stood. She gasped, for there glittering in the faint moonlight lay a long deadly-looking knife.

By now half of her building had awaked and several neighbors crowded around Victoria, offering her comfort and hot chocolate and places to spend the rest of the night. She thanked them all profusely but declined, sensing that the danger was over for the night. The police informed her that they would check her building periodically to make sure everything was all right.

The next morning she was still upset, but functional. She thought that it could be someone she knew or a complete stranger. Either way, they might come back and she would have to be prepared.

She stopped at a gun shop on the downtown strip and bought a license to get a small hand gun to keep in her night stand. If someone did break into her apartment, she would be ready to defend herself. It gave her some comfort, and she signed up for lessons to learn how to use the weapon.

When she arrived at work and told Mike and Della, they were both extremely upset.

"Tory, I just can’t think of you alone in that apartment with a madman after you. We have to do something about it right away." Mike insisted. He paced back and forth behind the bar, visibly shaken, while Della and Tory sat in front talking.

Della offered to let her spend the night at her mother's, at least for a night or two, until she felt less afraid. "Come on kid, it will do you good and Mike here won’t have a stroke worrying about you."

"Thanks, Della, if you're sure your mother won't mind. I'm going to start some lessons on how to shoot my gun next week, and I'll feel safer after I've learned to handle it."

"Sure, Tory, Mom won't mind a bit. It'll be fun, and you can meet my little boy, Hector," Della said.

"He's one adorable kid," said Mike. "We have all the employees and regular customers and their families at our Christmas bash every year, and Hector steals the show, right, Della?"

"Right, Mike, and we wouldn't miss it."

"You're like family to me, thanks for listening." Victoria gave them both a hug. Mike's interest in her seemed only fatherly now. But that was all her doings. What had started as an earthquake was now only a dull roar. If only she could bask in the heat of his love again but it was never to be. She missed what might have been, the enduring passion that could have developed and been kept alive between them if only he were a different kind of man. Or she was a different woman. A cold lonely sadness had settled around her heart making her feel like an ice woman, never to love again.

After work she took the ride to Della's mother's. It was very late, and Della gave Victoria blankets to sleep on the sofa in the living room. It was an old-fashioned apartment, rather thread bare but very clean. Victoria tossed and turned and wondered how Miss Magic was faring without her. Even knowing that her sweet next-door neighbor, Miss Needlemeyer, was feeding her cat did not completely mollify Victoria. At last sleep overcame her and the next thing she knew it was morning. Hector was running through the room with his school books, heading for the kitchen and breakfast.

Victoria was tempted to stay in bed but the aroma of coffee and bacon brought back memories of her home and Victoria was drawn to the kitchen.

Mrs. Salle was a very motherly soul, but grumpy. Victoria knew it must have been a load to have her daughter and grandson to care for, but also, since she was widowed, not unwelcome company.

"You poor dear. Della told me about your dreadful evening...one egg or two?"

"Oh thanks, Mrs. Salle, this is so very kind of you. I don't want to be a burden." Victoria stood in the doorway of the kitchen. "Della said it was okay if I spent the night. Can I buy you some groceries at the market later?"

"Sure, Miss Bell, sure, but first, how many eggs, dear?" Mrs. Salle's gray hair was done in a bun, and she was a very large woman with pretty dark eyes.

"One would be plenty, thanks." Victoria heard a growl from the direction of her stomach.

"You look like you don't eat enough," Mrs. Salle fussed at her. She was a very caring woman if somewhat controlling, Victoria could tell.

"Well, I eat when I remember to, but sometimes I just forget. It's hard when one lives alone to eat right," admitted Victoria.

"You must come over here often, and I'll have Della bring you so at least I'll know you're eating some good meals, Miss Bell," said Mrs. Salle. "My Della doesn't have many friends and your friendship means a lot to her."

"Thank you, but please just call me Tory. Being away from home, you and Della mean a great deal to me also."

"Thank you, dear, now come sit down and eat your breakfast while it's hot."

Victoria obeyed and sat down to the best breakfast she had eaten in a long time.

Della came in and sat down by Victoria while her mother served breakfast. "Mom waits on me hand and foot. I'll probably never get married. Hector and I have it too good here," Della said, smiling.

"Hush your mouth, child. If you'd been a little wiser the first time, you wouldn't be here. All you need to do is look before you leap," Mrs. Salle admonished her daughter.

"Yes, Mom," Della agreed dutifully.

"Hey, everybody makes mistakes, but there's always tomorrow," Victoria interjected.

"What about you and Mike? I thought you were going to be an item?" Della questioned Victoria.

"I like Michael but that is ancient history. I doubt he's the permanent kind. And I don't want to get mixed up with a man who only lives for the moment," Victoria said defiantly.

"I see what you mean, Tory, but about Mike, I don't know? I've always had the feeling that if he cared about someone, he'd be there for them. I've worked for Mike a long time now, and he's not mean or dishonest that I know of," Della defended her boss.

Changing the subject because discussing Mike hurt too much, Victoria said, "This is fun, like spending the night at a girlfriend's house when I was growing up."

"Did you go to college, Tory?" asked Mrs. Salle.

"No, secretarial school," answered Victoria.

"Why aren't you a secretary?" Della asked in amazement.

"I got fired from my last job before I started working for Mike, and I quit a couple of jobs before that. After I graduated high school, it seemed like the thing to do...be a secretary. My parents didn't have a lot of money for college. Besides, I come from a small town, and when I actually started working, it was so different from what I imagined. Maybe it was just the places I picked to work at. They were so nit-picking and mean and petty, not at all like Mike's Place." Victoria looked at Della for a minute before continuing, "Just rotten luck finding a good place, I guess. Anyway, I thought I'd just take the job at the bar for a little while until I figure out where I want to work next. Only, I really like working at the Mike's, and I haven't done anything about finding another job."

Della laughed. "You're something else, Tory."

After breakfast, Victoria gathered her belongings for the bus ride back to her apartment. It was muggy and hot. Even in the air-conditioned bar tonight the temperature would be warm. She was now grateful that her costume was more like a swimsuit then a dress. She got off at her stop, and in the daylight, the event of the midnight intruder seemed more like a bad dream. She went into her apartment and was greeted by a neglected Miss Magic, who clamored for fresh food and water.

She took her shower and changed so she could hurry off and make an appointment to take lessons in shooting before she had to get ready for work. The gun would be of little value if she could not use it in an emergency situation.

Victoria was weary of strangers anyway, but since the incident with the midnight prowler, she was even more so. Her first shooting lesson took place on a little outdoor shooting range. She wore plastic ear muffs and held the small gun in trembling hands. But the instructor was a kindly man who was used to female jitters around guns. They started with a stationary target and advanced slowly to a moving one. Victoria had always been something of a klutz and she was rather amazed that after a couple of weeks, she could half way hit the intended targets.

"I bet I’m the worst shot you have ever tried to train," she half jokingly told her instructor, a middle aged man with a short gray crewcut.

"Believe me, Miss Bell, you are a lot better than most of my clients. But it can be done, shooting straight just takes practice and you are faithful. What really gets me are the ones who come and expect to be experts by the end of the first lesson. There is a lot to know about a gun. Cleaning, safety, all these things take time to teach a person."

"You have been a really good teacher, Mr. Goodman, and I really appreciate your patience."

"Sure, Miss Bell, come back any time you need a refresher." He replaced his gun in his holster as he had been demonstrating some fancier shooting techniques that Victoria was sure she would never ever use.

Several weeks passed and nothing else out of the ordinary happened, so Victoria began to relax again. One evening, at a rather late hour, Anthony Derofert came into the bar and ordered a drink. Victoria waited on him, and he behaved as if he was rather taken with her. He was a tall man with dark French good looks, full lips and dark eyes with thick lashes. He tried striking up a conversation, saying that he had been wanting to meet her, but Victoria decided to be reserved with him. He got no where until one of the regulars came over and vouched for him.

"Yeah, he's Doctor Anthony Derofert from St. Claire's staff. He took my kid's tonsils out," the customer told Victoria.

She relented and carried on a limited conversation with the doctor, between waiting on customers. Odd, she thought, I feel like I've seen the doctor several times, but this is the first time we've spoken. The night that Yvette and Robert visited the bar flashed through her mind, and a chill went up her spine. No, how silly of me. Even if he had been in the bar that night, it doesn't mean anything. Lots of people were here.

As Victoria went to place her drink order, she overheard Mike's conversation with an attractive brunette. "Hey, Louise, would you like to go out for breakfast with me?" Mike asked one of the young ladies seated at the bar, and obviously interested in him.

"Sure, Mike, I'd love it!" replied the brunette.

Victoria noticed that she was a svelte young woman, and with her long black hair, she possibly had some Indian blood in her. She had immense black eyes behind long dark lashes. She was good-natured, and Mike seemed to like her. Victoria told herself she shouldn't care but even after the time that had passed, she still felt a hot flame of jealousy shoot through her.

Then Mike walked from behind the bar and went over to the doctor's table and signaled Victoria to come over also.

"Doc, would it help if Louise," Mike gestured to the girl at the bar, "and I went to breakfast with you two so you could get better acquainted?"

"Mike, that's a splendid idea. I can't thank you enough, mon ami. Is that agreeable with you, Miss Bell?" Anthony Derofert looked ecstatic.

Victoria was taken aback. She thought she had buried her feelings for Mike, but they were still there. She realized Mike was trying to do something nice for her and the doctor. Mike certainly had no idea how she felt about him now after all the time that had passed. She had taken great pains to squash his interest in her. Sometimes she felt like such a fool, and this was one of those times. Why couldn't she just tell Mike she still cared and forget her foolish pride?

"Yes, that would be fine," Victoria said without enthusiasm. What was wrong with her? Here was a doctor. Her mother would surely approve of him, and she was acting so ungrateful. This might be the great love of her life. She would have to snap out of it and behave accordingly. Her heart was not going to rule her head, no siree!

The four of them left together and Della finished closing. Victoria felt bad for she had seen the jealousy in Della's eyes. She knew that Della thought Dr. Derofert was the cream. The four got in the doctor's car and drove out to a restaurant that specialized in twenty-four hour breakfasts.

"I eat here quite often, what with my job demanding all kinds of hours," explained Anthony as they strolled from the parking lot.

"I'll bet you do," agreed Mike.

"Breakfast is one of my favorite meals," Victoria said.

Louise yawned. "Sorry folks, I'm a morning person, it takes some getting used to, this staying out late."

"Well, we're sorry we're keeping you awake, Louise," Mike teased her.

"For you, anything, Mike!"

Victoria noted how Louise looked knowingly at Mike as they entered the restaurant.

They sat down and ordered, then Mike got up and played the jukebox, a golden oldie," Broken Hearted Melody".

Victoria wondered about his selection. She glanced at his face once or twice, but she really couldn't tell what he might be thinking and if the tune had any significance or not.

The omelets came out piping hot with cheeses, ham and green pepper. A plateful of hot toast was passed around, and the waitress returned promptly and often with pungent coffee. Victoria thought it a feast with good company.

Victoria decided that Anthony was a fine date. He was a sweet, really proper sort of gentleman, and interesting, too. When the check came he volunteered to pay, but then he carefully added up the total and put down a small tip which Mike augmented. Oh well, Victoria said to herself, you can't get a perfect man, and being a small tipper is not a fatal flaw in an otherwise agreeable companion.

She agreed to a date the following week, his surgery schedule permitting. Anthony explained to her that his life was not his own, but he would love to spend as much time as possible with her. That suited Victoria just fine, because she did not feel like being rushed into any romance, since she still had Mike on her mind more than she wanted to admit.

SAN FRANCISCO LADY by PAT SMITH

CHAPTER FIVE

The weeks passed slowly for Victoria. She and Mike had become like friendly strangers. Gradually, the sharp pain of parting dulled for her. She shed her tears alone in the quiet nights when she got home from work and climbed into bed. She tried to keep her mind on her job and off her boss, but his handsome face haunted her restless dreams.

The money was good at Mike's Place and she allowed herself occasional splurges: a pair of new shoes or eating out at an expensive restaurant instead of eating her usual Spartan toast or tuna sandwiches at home. But even the good times could not soothe the ache in her heart each time she saw Mike.

But she was afraid that if she gave in and dated Mike in earnest, it would only be that much harder to part with him when he tired of her and moved on to greener pastures. She just could not take love that lightly.

Sometimes when she came in a little early, Mike would still be in his gym shorts and T-shirt. Her eyes strayed to his strong muscular thighs and she could almost feel his powerful body pressed against her's once again in a passionate embrace. Mike was so faithful to his old boxing buddies, working out with them whenever his busy schedule permitted. Why couldn't he have that kind of faithful attitude about women, herself in particular? Because he's the typical bartender, that's why, Victoria told herself with resignation.

She wished with all her mind that she could feel some romantic attachment for Anthony, but it wasn't there. Her heart only seemed to have room for Mike. She was doomed to suffer the pain of unrequited love in stoic silence.

* * * *

Anthony came in to wait for Victoria and took a seat at the bar.

"Vodka on the rocks with a twist?" Mike asked.

"Yes, thanks, Mike, you remembered. Let me buy you a drink. Least I can do for helping me get acquainted with Victoria."

"Thanks, Doc, but I don't drink on the job. I imagine you don't either." Mike frowned, thinking that it was not the smartest move he had ever made, getting the doctor and his Victoria together.

"You can say that again, Mike!" Anthony agreed.

"Are you and Tory hitting it off?" asked Mike, curious if it was just him that Victoria didn't like, or all men.

"Well, not that good yet, but she's a splendid girl. I can't wait to introduce her to my parents."

Mike blanched. Anthony had just met Victoria, and he was already taking her very seriously, indeed. Somehow, Mike had missed his chance. He had not thought that far ahead. Yes, Victoria was a woman he could introduce to his parents. Oh hell, he might as well admit it. He would have asked Victoria to marry him, providing things had gone well between them. She was that kind of woman: beautiful, sweet, intelligent and so very sexy. Now he felt worse than ever.

Out of the corner of his eye, Mike saw Robert come in alone. He appeared to be looking for someone. Mike clenched his fists and made ready for a fight, if one should arise. He noticed that Anthony was seated far enough away, nursing his drink, and that Victoria was coming toward the bar, carrying a tray of empty glasses. She stopped mid-way as Robert rushed up to her.

Mike watched as Robert engaged Tory in conversation and she seemed to be upset. After a few moments, Robert seemed to tire of the conversation and he turned to go to the other end of the bar. He struck up a conversation with Louise and one of her girlfriends.

Mike's fist unclenched, and he decided the confrontation was over, for the moment. Mike watched Victoria's face as she approached.

"Was he giving you any trouble, Tory?" Mike asked protectively, his voice lowered so Anthony wouldn't hear.

"No, not really," she said, placing the tray on the counter. She leaned toward Mike, whispering, "But in case Robert asks you anything, we're still a hot item, okay?"

Mike nodded. "Suits me just fine," he said, wishing it were true.

Victoria gave Mike her drink order and commented, "Looks like Robert's already trying to hit on that girl and her friend."

Mike placed the drink on her tray and watched as she walked away in that graceful manner she had about her.

Della came up to get her order, bringing Mike out of his thoughts. She turned to speak to the doctor.

"Doctor Derofert, I have a little boy with tonsil problems. Maybe you could take a look at him sometime for me. His name is Hector...Hector Salle," Della said, looking at Anthony with obvious interest.

"Della, I didn't know you were married?" Anthony said.

"No, no I'm not married, or anything." Della blushed.

"Sure, I'd be happy to have a look at your little guy. Here's my card, I’m a pediatric surgeon.. Just give my nurse a call and she'll set up a time for you."

Della was delighted and hurried off to her customers with a tray of drinks.

Victoria finished her shift and seemed happy because Robert had left earlier and hadn’t spoken to her. Yet, much to Mike’s dismay she seemed happy to see Anthony. She said good night to Mike as usual, but he grabbed her hand and motioned that he had to talk to her. He hurried her into the corner behind the bar.

"Tory, I can't stand to see you going out with this guy. I mean he's okay, I guess...but I love you," Mike blurted out in hushed whispers.

Victoria looked at him in amazement. "Michael! I...I don't know what you want from me. I tried to be honest with you, but I'm just not the kind of girl to fall into bed with you one minute and forget you the next. Your lifestyle and mine don't mix."

"Is that why you left me out in the cold? Can you ditch the doc? We'll go out and talk it over, no funny stuff, just talk. Please, Tory!" Mike pleaded.

"I have a date with Anthony tonight. Nothing special, but I just can't ditch him. But tomorrow is my night off, and if you want to spend some time together and try to sort things out, I'll go. But I'm warning you, Michael, my mind is made up. As much as I care about you, I can't change what I am." There were tears in her eyes as she looked up at him in the dimness.

"Damn, Tory, I've made you cry. I never wanted to hurt you, honest," Mike said, handing her his big white handkerchief.

She looked around, obviously hoping that no one had observed their conversation. What would others think? He was beating her, cheating her?

Victoria dabbed her eyes and grabbed her purse and left quickly with Anthony. She looked back at Mike with longing and bit her lip.

Della came up to the counter and stood beside Mike, watching Anthony and Victoria talking to each other as they left.

"He sure seems like a nice guy, doesn't he, Mike?" asked Della wistfully.

"Yeah, I guess so," Mike answered curtly.

"Mike LaRossa, you're jealous!" Della winked at him.

"Jealous?" Mike thought to himself, Hell yes, I am jealous of the only woman I have ever loved.

* * * *

Anthony turned to Victoria with a tentative plan for their evening together as they walked to his car. She was getting used to his second hand cadillac in weather-beaten tan.

"There's a late showing of The African Queen with Bogart and Hepburn at the theater, Victoria, if you'd like to catch it after we grab a bite to eat," Anthony suggested.

"That sounds really great. By the way, how did your day go at the clinic?" She really did like him, she just didn't love him. And she had a nagging doubt about his temper. Usually he was very patient, but when he did get angry, the anger seemed to control him. She remembered when they went for a Sunday drive and they got stuck in traffic. Anthony had lost his temper and laid on the horn. When a driver nearby objected, she had been afraid Anthony was going to start a fight.

"We had a possible appendicitis, two obstructions of the lower intestine and a severe gastritis before lunch." He counted them off mechanically. Listening to him tell about his work, it was hard for her to believe him to be anything but a level-headed surgeon.

"If I had to see things like that, I'd never eat lunch," Victoria winced. "Guess you could say I'm squeamish."

"You either get used to it, or you starve, Victoria," he said cheerfully.

"You have a point there," Victoria agreed with him.

"Tomorrow starts surgery, so I won't see you for a few days. Will you miss me?"

"Yes, of course I'll miss you. But I can use the time to clean my apartment and catch up on my sleep." And to see Michael, she added silently.

"Sounds thrilling, Victoria," he replied dryly.

During the movie, she used her handkerchief a few times. Bogart's part reminded her of Mike so much. Anthony must have noticed her tears, but he didn't say anything. She was disappointed when they ended up at one of Anthony's fast food favorites for an inexpensive sandwich. She had been dying for some good seafood.

"You're certainly a big spender, Anthony," Victoria joked as she bit into her chicken sandwich.

"You never seemed to notice, Victoria, but thrift is one of my vices. It's been drummed into my head through medical school and internship, and I really can't shake it. Sorry!" He apologized. "My parents had been very disappointed in my decision to go into medicine instead of following in my father’s foot steps at the winery. They declined to give me any financial support through all my schooling. Luckily, I was determined and the studies came easy to me as did a number of scholarships. But the years of study and financial hardship has made me pretty stringent with my money. Sorry."

She chided him lightly. "It's okay."

"I really will miss you the next few days," he said, taking her hand. "These evenings together mean a lot to me, but I'm not rushing you. I realize these things take time."

"Thank you. But I can't make any promises about anything. I'm not sure where my life is headed right now," she said obliquely. Victoria could tell he was disappointed in her lack of enthusiasm. She really wished it could be different between them, but as long as there was a Mike LaRossa on the scene, Victoria would be unable to love another.

They ended the evening with a chaste kiss that left Victoria cold and she was eager to hit the covers. The doctor was a fun date, just that and nothing more. Truthfully, if only Mike had been her date, she could have stayed up all night. But he wasn't and probably never would be.

Victoria's apartment was located in a homey building near the low-rent downtown area. She was also just a short bus ride from Mike's Place which made it very convenient for her. She had a small living room with a sleeper sofa and spindle rocking chair that Miss Magic loved to sleep in.

She was trying to prepare herself mentally for a big let-down with Mike. She had shed a few tears when she talked to him earlier, but it had been the shock of his sudden interest in her after all this time. She was sure nothing would come of their talk. She could get involved with him, but that wasn't the kind of relationship she wanted. She felt that they had both cooled off after several months had passed. And yet, there was a little doubt in her mind, since she could not predict exactly how their evening together would go? There was a small voice of hope in her heart that would not die.

She fed Miss Magic and took a precautionary look out the backdoor as she always did since that awful night when that horrible shadow person with the knife had tried to break in. Enough time had passed, and the presence of the gun in her night stand made her feel much more comfortable alone late at night.

She put on her nightgown and finally settled in for a deep sleep. Unbidden, the old dreams about Mike returned, and when she woke in the morning, she felt a little of the old butterflies in her stomach. He could kiss her all she wanted him to in her dreams.

"I'll probably be an old maid because I can't shake my dream man. This will never do!" she told herself out loud, and busied herself for the evening ahead.

What would she wear for their date? Mike would probably take her somewhere nice, so she could dress up for a change. The prospect delighted her, and she made a beeline for her closet to pick out a soft blue pastel dress that accented her red curls and blue eyes. She carefully selected silver hoop earrings and bracelet to match.

After laying out her clothing and accessories, she left to do her weekly grocery shopping. At the market she strolled past the vegetables, picking up some lettuce and tomatoes. Taking her produce to the cashier, a sudden chill ran down her spine. She had the uneasy feeling that someone was watching her. She turned to look around but saw no one. "Ridiculous," she said to herself.

Quickly, she grasped her bag and hurried to the meat market. She felt more comfortable there. The butcher was always friendly to her. She opened the door to an empty shop, but the bell attached to the door rang loudly, and she could hear footsteps from the back.

A large, unknown man came to the counter in a blood-spotted white apron. Victoria took in a sharp breath and involuntarily backed away from the counter. Images of a knife wielding man flashed through her mind. I have to get a grip on myself, she said and stopped abruptly. This is silly, she thought, I can't go through life being afraid of every Tom, Dick and butcher," she laughed.

"Two chopped sirloin patties and a small salmon steak, please," she said, trying to keep her voice calm.

He went to the glass case to get her order. He wrapped the meat in paper and placed it on the counter. "Anything else?"

"No, thanks," she said. As she paid him, she noticed that he had a nasty-looking scar on his wrist.

She left the shop and hurried back to the apartment so she would have plenty of time to prepare for her date with Mike. She stopped only long enough to pick up some milk at the corner store and, of course, cat food.

Then she jumped into her shower to shampoo her hair and get ready for what would surely be a fun evening. Going out after the bar closed definitely limited the evening entertainment. Even if he could not be her romantic interest, Mike was always there for her. Even if she wanted to, she could not quit her job at the bar now. Mike and Della were wonderful people to work with. Nothing like the office grind at Worthington and Worthington.

Robert had been such an unpleasant man, but she was sure more than one of the predatory females at the office would look on dating a rich bachelor with relish, so he probably had his pick of women. Her current job did offer fringe benefits, like Moose and all the interesting characters that came into the bar nightly. Moose might cast a large shadow, but she doubted if he were a knife murderer. She had learned to keep her backside turned away from him when she delivered his two beers. He always placed a crumpled dollar into her hand when she waited his table. It was touching to see the gratitude in his dull eyes. She stayed long enough to ask how he was whenever she had the chance. Most of Mike's old boxing buddies were down on their luck, but he was always glad to see them, valuing their friendship more than money. Mike had a lot of good points, damn him.

Stepping out of the shower, she dried off and decided to do her nails before her hair. She selected a beige polish that would set off her silver jewelry. She liked wearing her nails long since she no longer had to keep them short to pound the old keyboard.

The night would come soon enough, but in the meantime, she would enjoy her preparations and Miss Magic's company. The cat rolled over on the bed so Victoria could scratch her soft furry belly. Miss Magic purred in appreciation for her mistress's attention. No matter what, her cat would always be there, Victoria thought gratefully. You could not always count on people, especially men, but your cat would never let you down. In fact, she felt that her cat had saved her life on that almost fatal night.

But right now she wondered what the evening would bring? The question went unanswered as she went about her household chores.

* * * *

He looked at his watch. It was late. He had an early appointment in the morning, and he needed to sleep, but sleep was still eluding him.

"Damn her!" She alone was the woman for him. She had fire and spunk and determination.

He paced the floor in his room. Unbidden thoughts of her popped into his head. What was it about Victoria Bell? She had an innocence, a fresh, dewy-eyed approach to life that he had not found in other women. She was immensely good looking with those huge luminous blue eyes, the color of cornflowers.

It was more than that; she could not be dominated or controlled. He wanted to be in complete authority in his relationships, but he found subservient women boring and redundant. Victoria had enough defiance in her attitude to spark his imagination. She was always late to work regardless of the rules. She had become an obsession. One minute he was wanting to make love to her, and the next, he was wanting to punish her for not giving him what he so desperately needed--her love and devotion. He wanted to knock some submission into her.

"Victoria Bell, what are you doing tonight without me?" The thought was unbearable. He became so angry that he drove his fist into the wall, experiencing sharp pain.

There were other women in his life who found him excellent company. Why wouldn't she respond to him? She fascinated him, like a beautiful snake hypnotizing a helpless bird.

He looked in the mirror. The circles under his eyes attested to his losing sleep. How dare she do this to him? He would find a way to capture her love...or do what had to be done.

Chapter Six

At last it was evening and time for Mike to pick her up for dinner. She pulled on her powder blue dress and let her red curls fall free down her back while her heart pounded in anticipation.

"Why couldn’t I feel this way about Anthony? Life would be so much simpler. Darn you, Michael LaRossa!" Victoria fretted as she paced the floor, waiting. She could envision his smile and her fingers ached to touch his face.

As Victoria crossed in front of her back door, she had the sudden chilling feeling that someone was watching her. Since the attempted break in, she had grown accustomed to peering out her back door periodically to be sure no one was there. She walked to the door and pulled back the curtain on the glass pane. No one was on the balcony, but she caught sight of movement as someone across the street from her apartment house rounded the corner. A very large man disappeared rapidly from view. She had no idea if he had really been watching the back of her building or not, but the thought made a chill crawl down her spine. She could have moved away from the area where she lived, but the people in her apartment house were a friendly lot, and she felt safer with people she knew.

She heard the buzzer and thought about rushing down to meet Mike, but instead she invited him up. When he knocked on her door, she tried to remain cool and walked very deliberately to open the door and let him in.

"Hey, gorgeous!" Mike looked her over with open approval.

Victoria grabbed her shawl and purse, a big smile played on her lips. She felt very flattered and she could not help admiring his muscular good looks. She timidly placed her arm through his and immediately felt the warmth of his body next to her’s. His closeness sent a powerful feeling rushing through her from head to toe, leaving her breathless.

"You look pretty sharp yourself, Michael. We, who work for you, are not accustomed to the sight of Mr. La Rossa in a suit and tie." She was determined to keep the conversation light, regardless of her feelings.

"And that’s the way it should be, Tory. After all, I work with my sleeves rolled up mostly," he said.

His words were calming, but his eyes glowed in a peculiar way. Victoria wished she knew what he was feeling and thinking. She would let him do the talking tonight while she listened and pondered the answers.

He held the door open for her and assisted her into the truck. She watched him walk to the driver’s side, wondering what he had planned for the evening. He shifted the gears while asking her about their destination.

"Tory, would dinner at Alidos and a ride on the Bay Ferry be okay with you, and maybe a dance at one of the places for late night revelers?" Mike asked enthusiastically.

"That sounds wonderful," she answered quickly. "I love being on the water. It’s so romantic," she added as an afterthought and bit her lip as a bittersweet pain of longing gripped her.

Arriving at the restaurant, Mike let valet parking attend to the truck after he helped Victoria down gently. She caught her breath when his strong arms went around her waist. The thrill of his arms encircling her made her feel weak with desire.

Was it too much to ask? Could this night last forever? She thought to herself, but said, "Thank you, Michael."

He smiled at her, and she thought she felt him tremble slightly before he released his hold on her.

"This is a really nice restaurant, Michael," Victoria commented as she proceeded him to their table. "I love the antique decor." The matre d’ seated her and Victoria laid her purse down beside her plate. "Have you eaten here before? What’s the food like?"

"Like nothing else in the city. The lobster gets rave reviews in all the papers," he said, picking up his water glass and taking a sip.

"Being in the entertainment business, Michael, I trust your judgment. We’ve nothing to compare to this in Elk Grove," she shrugged her shoulders.

Mike ordered a bottle of white wine, which the waiter brought out to them immediately.

"Some people think Chardonnay with lobster, but personally, I prefer Pinot Noir," Mike said as he poured them both a glass of wine.

Victoria took her glass in her hand and swirled it so she could watch the light from the candles dancing through the clear liquid. She tasted it and said, "Ah, Michael, I think you’re so right about the wine, it’s heavenly. You’re an odd combination. Is there anything you don’t know about?" she questioned him, half seriously.

"There’s one thing…me," he answered.

"How wise of you to realize it. Most of us think we know ourselves until something comes up and we react totally out of character, and amaze ourselves."

"Tory, before I met you, I thought I knew what I wanted out of life. Run my business, be kind to my associates, customers, friends, and enjoy the company of certain ladies from time to time," he admitted.

"Sounds simple enough." She had surmised this when they first met.

"But you have complicated my life, young lady." He was looking at her accusingly.

"Oh, have I?" She gave him an inquiring glance, but she dared not hope that he would be willing to give up his roving ways.

"Yes, you have, Tory. I’m still trying to sort out all of my feelings."

"What’s that supposed to mean, Michael?" she said, anxious for his response in spite of herself.

The arrival of their dinner saved Mike from any further explanations.

Victoria surveyed the extent of the large platters of shellfish before them. She picked up the tiny forks used for scooping the delicious morsels out of their shells and sampled a first bite.

"Heaven, Michael, sheer heaven."

"This is good if I have to admit it myself," he said, chewing with obvious relish.

"Where does the good doctor take you, Tory, if you don’t mind my asking? The man has a reputation for being a bit tight." There was definitely a hint of jealousy in his question.

"He lives up to his reputation, but I might be able to persuade him into some more interesting pursuits if I were really that interested." She looked away. She had not intended to reveal that much about her feelings for Anthony.

Mike put his fork down and grabbed Victoria’s arm, pulling her closer. "I love you, Victoria Bell!"

She felt as if his eyes were staring holes into her soul, and she felt dizzy with passion.

"I love you too, Michael. There, I’ve said it! But there can never be anything between us. I’m not, can never be one of your occasional ladies." Tears started down her cheeks.

Mike released her wrist and handed her his handkerchief. "Damn, Tory, all I ever do is make you cry. This is coming out all wrong, over dinner and all," he said.

"I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cry on our dinners," she apologized, shaking her head.

"You’re just like a little girl sometimes, Tory. This is all my fault. But I guess since we’ve got started on it now, it’s time you knew the truth about me." She felt him look into her eyes.

"Yeah, I have a big bad wolf image being a bartender and all, and I have to admit that I like the ladies. But I have needs too, just like yours, Tory. I’m not all that happy with affairs and one night stands. I was beginning to feel left out of life. Women sort of pick me up when they’re feeling down, and I comfort and entertain them until their boyfriends start dating them again, then it’s good-bye, Mike, had a nice time."

"I didn’t realize…" Victoria began but Mike interrupted her.

"Nobody realizes. They just think of me as Mike the bartender and not as Mike the man. I’m just convenient for women to dump on." He looked at her pleading.

"I was thinking of you only as Michael the bartender, wasn’t I? And I always thought of myself as such a fair minded person," she said, beginning to doubt her sanctimonious position.

"Let’s finish our dinner and we can discuss this some more on the boat, Tory."

"Agreed, Michael." She spoke lightly now that she had a glimmer of hope in her heart where Mike was concerned.

As soon as they had finished their supper, Victoria retired to the powder room to repair her makeup before leaving for the moonlight cruise with the man she loved, the only man she had ever loved. All that stuff about the fire being out between them had just flown out the window. Her heart pounded with anticipation, and it wasn’t the moonlight she felt this crazy about. It had to be Michael LaRossa.

They strolled out of the restaurant arm in arm, with her head resting on his shoulder. Outside, while waiting for the truck to be brought around, he stole a first passionate kiss, a harbinger of things to come.

Victoria gasped with delight, and he barely released her in time to help her into his vehicle when the attendant drove up.

"Madam, on our way, we’ll take a shortcut down Beach Street. Any objections?" asked Mike.

"Of course not," she said. In fact she would have agreed to a side trip to the moon at this moment in time.

He stopped in front of a diamond merchant in Ghirardelli Square. After feeding the parking meter, he took Victoria inside to look at the cases of inviting diamonds

"Now you are on a very special mission here, Mike said. "We have exactly one hour before we have to be at the pier. You have to pick out the most beautiful diamond that you see."

Victoria could scarcely contain her joy. She was sure that she was picking out her engagement ring although Mike had not specifically said so. She darted to the cases, pear shaped, round cut, square cut, wide band, slender band. It was mind-boggling. Finally, she saw the perfect ring sitting in petite splendor. Nothing too large or showy, just a small pear shaped diamond in an antique gold filigreed band.

Mike looked on with approval. He took his credit card out of his wallet and paid the man on the spot. Kneeling down on the showroom floor, Mike placed the ring on her finger to the delight of the sales force and the other customers.

"I love you, Tory, and I think I have from the first moment that you walked into Mike’s Place. Will you marry me?" There was a roguish smile on his handsome face as he knelt before her. "Please!"

Victoria was not sure if she was dreaming, but even if it were only a dream, it was the best dream involving Michael that she had ever had. This was surely the most romantic town on earth to be proposed to—San Francisco on a warm summer’s night.

"Michael, am I awake?" she asked tentatively.

"Yes, Honey, shall I pinch you?" he asked, menacing her with two fingers.

"No, that’s quite all right." She paused deliberately, thinking of all her resolutions to remain aloof at this moment. Pouf, they went right out of the window and she fairly shouted, "Yes, Michael, a thousand times yes!"

The gathering of shoppers and salespeople clapped and cheered as Mike sealed their engagement with a kiss.

Victoria felt her cheeks get hot as they hurried out of the store to dash off to the pier.

Mike parked the truck, and they ran across the parking lot and through the building until they reached the proper window to deposit their money and claim their tickets. Slightly out of breath, they got in line and moved slowly in the starlit night onto the boat. The jostling of the crowd was lost on Victoria as she gazed in wonder at Michael.

"When do you want to get married, Tory?"

"Oh, I have to tell my parents, and we have to make all the arrangements before we worry about that. Can’t we just be engaged for awhile?"

"Sure, Honey, I just thought you might have some kind of date in mind. You see, I can’t wait to get you in my clutches!" He leered at her humorously.

"Just off the top of my head, without checking with Mom, I’d say October maybe. Does that sound okay?"

"Fall, I love fall…the football games, fishing and hunting. But I guess I can take time for a wedding celebration. My folks will give us a big engagement party. Just wait until you meet them. They aren’t rich, but they run a small Morgan quarter horse ranch in Salinnas. I grew up there, mowing hayfields and putting up bales."

On board the ship, Mike guided Victoria to the lounge on the middle deck where they could sit in comfort and watch the moonlight shinning on the water. The ship drifted away from the dock while Mike and Victoria continued their conversation.

"Sounds like a wonderful life, but how did you end up here?" she asked.

"That’s hard to explain, Tory. After I got out of service, my home town seemed kind of small and backward, and I had my heart set on the big city life. First it was boxing, but that got old in a hurry. I didn’t want to end up like Moose. Besides, I had a few bucks saved and a little bar tending experience under my belt when the guy that built the bar I was working at decided to retire, so I bought him out."

"Are you sorry about leaving the ranch?"

"Yeah, sort of. When Dad retires, I may just sell the bar and take over the ranch. How would the future Mrs. LaRossa feel about that?" he asked.

"I enjoy the bar, Michael, but when we have kids, the ranch might be better," Victoria said thoughtfully.

"Oh, and how many kids are we going to have?"

"Well, let’s try one or two first and then decide," she said hesitantly.

"That makes sense," agreed Mike. "Especially since you’ll be the one doing the hardest part of childbearing."

Mike took Victoria’s hands, "Doesn’t this feel right, Tory? I know I’ve been waiting for you all my life."

"Michael, there’s no one else, never could be anyone else for me but you. I tried to forget you, I even tried to like Anthony, but it wasn’t any use." Suddenly Victoria stiffened. "Oh, I forgot about Anthony. He’s really interested in me and I’ll have to tell him about us."

"And I have to tell Louise. Let’s make a deal. You tell Louise and I’ll tell Anthony," he suggested jokingly.

"Does that mean you have some big thing going with Louise?" Victoria asked, her eyes lit up with bright green jealousy, remembering the attractive Louise vividly.

"No, Tory, we just had breakfast a couple of times, and out for drinks once. Nothing serious at least in my mind and I don’t think in her mind either. But I had to tease you about her since you brought up Anthony. You have no idea how jealous I was of you two." He gave her a lopsided grin and put his arm around her shoulders. "But enough unpleasantness, let’s go up on deck and enjoy the smell of the ocean. Besides, it’s dark up there and I intend to steal some more kisses from my future bride."

She looked at him hungrily. "I can’t wait, Michael. All these months of working together, but not touching has been rough."

Mike looked at her in astonishment. "And I thought it was only me, Victoria Bell. The hell you put me through. You’re going to have to make it all up to me, young lady!"

"I promise, Michael, I promise to do my best."

Mike leaned closer and stole a kiss, then escorted her upstairs where she scarcely got a chance to glance around since she had her eyes closed kissing him most of the time. When she did glance around, the ocean lapped gently at the sides of the boat and the moonlight glimmered on the restless waves. The wonderful ocean scent filled her senses with peace.

Mike showered her with kisses that he had been saving for months, and she returned them eagerly. She had missed him so much. She had never realized how much he was missing her until now. His embrace became more passionate as the evening progressed and she could feel an answering hunger rise within her.

The evening grew late and at last the ship docked. The evening chill made Victoria wrap up in her shawl as they headed back to the parking lot. The excitement of the evening had taken it’s toll, and she laid her head peacefully on Mike’s shoulder as he drove to their next destination.

Mike had reservations at the Venetian Room in the Fairmont Hotel, high atop California and Mason Street. It was a beautiful Renaissance-era decor with lighted Frescos, and a view that took Victoria’s breath away. The city was lit up before her like a huge Christmas tree. A live band was playing upbeat music when the hostess seated them at a small table. She got her second wind and her toes began tapping in time to the music.

"How about a Polynesian Pu-Pu platter, Tory?"

"Sounds good to me, Michael. And I’ll need some energy for dancing."

The waiter came and took their order as Victoria smiled at Mike with tenderness. He was so caring, so earnest, more so then any other man she had ever known.

"Does my future bride care to dance?"

Victoria placed her hand in his and let him draw her out onto the dance floor. It felt heavenly to be in his embrace. She was feeling an intensity of feelings she had never felt before. His kisses made her dizzy with desire and she was sure he felt much the same way. She frowned as a thought came to her. She was afraid to let herself give in.

"Tory, what’s the matter?" Mike whispered.

She hesitated, not knowing how he would respond to what she wanted to say. "Would you still love me…even if we…" she stammered.

Mike held her close. "Victoria Bell, I would love you no matter what."

"You must think I’m not very adult." She concluded.

He smiled. "No, I just think you’re totally old fashioned and charming, just the way I want my future wife to be."

Victoria felt reassured by his words as they walked back to the table. They were greeted by a flaming Pu-Pu platter. Mike showed her how to use the skewers to pop tasty bits of pineapple, shrimp, and other delicious morsels into her mouth.

She knew Mike was too much of a gentleman to ask her about her love life, and she felt relieved. She didn’t know whether it would be best to make up some red-hot lovers from the past, or let him know her ignorance. Of course, she had watched enough movies and television programs to have a pretty good idea of what went on. Still, watching surfing on TV and actually going surfing were two completely different animals, and she was sure sex would be the same way.

Sex with Michael. A shiver ran through her body. Regardless of the consequences, she could hardly wait, but at the same time, she was apprehensive.

After eating, Mike led her back onto the floor for a slow dance. "Are you getting tired, Tory?" Mike asked tenderly.

"A little," Victoria admitted. "But this has been the best, most wonderful evening of my entire life, Michael LaRossa."

"Mine too, Tory. In case you are worried about things, I’m not going to rush you, honey, don’t worry, we can take all the time you need." He kissed her cheek tenderly as they danced.

"But…."

"But what Tory?"

Victoria looked into this eyes and whispered, "I do love you, Michael."

He kissed her lips and said, "I love you too, Tory."

"Can we go now?" she asked.

"Sure, I’ll pay the tab and we can head for home." Mike took her back to their table and paid the check.

"Alone at last!" Mike said as he helped her into his truck. Then he climbed in and sat close to her and drew her to his side with one arm. With his free hand, he lifted her face up to his. She gazed into his eyes, intense and brilliant, searching out her deepest unspoken feelings. Then his lips touched her’s in a kiss that was soft and tender at first, then grew passionate.

She pressed herself against him, her arms around his neck, her lips parted to his. She could not ignore the heat that swept through her body, the sensations he was making her feel. It was the first time she had ever felt such fire. Her body melted against his, and when he finally pulled away, she felt drunk with the potency of his kiss.

Mike murmured, "Mmm, Tory, you taste so sweet. But…" He sighed, gently releasing her, "We can’t stay here all night."

On the way home, she leaned her head against Mike’s shoulder. She was afraid she might wake up and find the whole evening had been a beautiful dream, so she held on to his arm tightly.

Arriving at her apartment, Mike drew her silently into his arms again and began to kiss her tenderly, then with mounting desire. He held her close, his touch sweet against her skin. At first Victoria did not object as his caresses became bolder, more intimate, but then she slowly put some space between them. She needed time to think things through.

But he still held her, whispering into her hair, "Tory, I’d like to come in and stay the night…"

It was something she desperately wanted too, and so she said lightly, "Michael, I’d really love to invite you in, but, " she added firmly, "I’m pooped."

He gave her a lop-sided grin. "Yeah, maybe we both need some sleep. I’ll say good night then." He kissed her lightly on the mouth. "Take care, honey, until tomorrow night." He made sure she was safe inside her apartment before he turned and bounced down the stairs, whistling a jaunty tune.

Victoria closed her door, smiling, then headed for the bedroom where she shrugged off her clothes into a heap on the floor and put on her nightgown. She had her French knot embroidery spilling out of it’s wicker basket in one corner of the room. In another corner was her stationary bike, and miscellaneous piles of magazines and books heaped here and there on the carpeted floor. She looked around and decided that she would definitely have to tidy up in the morning. She had a feeling that one evening soon, Mike might be joining her here in this very room. A shiver of anticipation ran through her. In the bed, she pulled the soft blue quilt up to her chin and gave a last admiring glance at her lovely, sparkling diamond, before dropping off into a deep sleep.

SAN FRANCISCO LADY - PAT SMITH

CHAPTER SEVEN

He still had nightmares.

After all these years, he kept her diary hidden in his closet. Even now he reread the journal, remembering...

"Fiddle-dee-dee, fiddle-dee-doo, such a careless thing for a little boy to do," Nurse Welks chanted in harsh tones. "Fiddle-da-dee, fiddle-da-doo--"

"I'm so sorry, Nurse. I didn't mean to spill my milk. It was an accident, please, Nurse Welks, please!" he stammered in desperation. He felt the nurse's finger tightening on his wrist as he looked up pleadingly into her mean, beady eyes.

"None of your howling, little man, or I'll beat you good besides." With a grim determined scowl, she continued dragging him across the room.

"I'll be good, I promise!" he tried again.

"Shut up, you little pig, or you'll really be sorry!" she snapped, and hauled him up to the second floor and locked him in a small empty closet. Hunched in the farthest corner, he heard her give a satisfied laugh. Now he knew she would go drink in peace in the pantry.

With his parents on their annual trip abroad, there was no one to hear his cry for help. They left with a great deal of fanfare as usual. The press featured them on the comings and goings of the wealthier families in the town. His parents were scions of influential families, accustomed to coming and going as they pleased. Being their only son, he took adorable pictures with them, whenever they were around. Otherwise, he was left almost entirely to his nurse, Abigail Welks, since birth.

She came to the country in search of a secure home. Because she was European, and European nurses were all the rage, his mother had hired her on the spot when she applied for the position. She had no previous experience with babies, although she had some formal training in child care through a relocation program.

He discovered from her diary that she had been raised in poverty in the east end of London, learning to drink at a young age. When she was older, she answered an ad that appeared in the Times: "Nannies wanted for overseas jobs." She had no particular job skills, only an aversion to hard work. How hard can this nanny business be? she had written in the journal.

She wrote about how the mansion impressed her, and her employers had asked very little of her, only that she take care of the baby and keep him out of the way, except when his appearance was needed for a family portrait or social obligation. And of course, the polite perfunctory good night kiss.

His parents had known nothing of her drunken rages. If they suspected that something was amiss, they let it slide for convenience sake. His father was a businessman and kept long hours at the office. His mother had a very busy social calendar and traveled extensively.

Abigail wrote, "I have the little monster pretty much to do with as I please. A little time in the closet never hurt a chap and it frees up my time to do with as I please." She had told him that she really didn't care in the least about his feelings, any more than her parent's had cared about her’s when they locked her in the closet at her home in the East end.

He remembered sitting in the small dark closet, crying hot wet tears that stung his cheeks. Daddy always told him not to cry. Only Daddy didn't know how he hated being locked up alone for hours at a time. It didn't matter if he were hungry or thirsty, or that he had to go to the bathroom. He knew that nurse would only let him out when she was good and ready, and he had better not make a mess in the closet for she would make him clean it up, and then beat him good.

Cook, his one friend, saved him supper, and he could creep down the back stairs, after Nurse had gone to bed, and eat in the dark by the stove. That was the beginning of his overwhelming need to binge eat. He didn't feel that people cared about him, but food was very comforting. No one in the household dared tell his parents since they were very strict people. If a servant said a careless word, they were discharged at once. Some speculated that his parents knew and approved of his treatment in the hands of his nurse. He knew that others thought perhaps his parents did not know, but no one was willing to risk their job to find out.

Thus began his terrible rages. He started kindergarten with above average intelligence and the need to pick on smaller children. The pattern continued, and worsened. He was often in trouble at school, but even bullying smaller children could not satisfy his terrible anger. His parents chose to ignore reports of behavior problems at school. He guessed that they sent donations to the exclusive private school he attended, for it always solved his problems, and saved face.

As time passed, he grew craftier at avoiding Nurse. If he stayed outside and out of earshot long enough, she would drink herself mellow by the time he returned. Since she was the one who usually cared for him, he had twisted emotional ties to her. She could be cruel, but at the same time, she was his nurse, and he needed her. He became a sad, stout little fellow with physical and emotional scars.

At ten, his parents gave in and presented him with a puppy. Tanker, a red chow, and he loved the dog dearly. Of course, Nurse hated the dog because Tanker had the normal puppy habits: crying at night, leaving calling cards on the carpet, and chewing up everything he could sink his sharp, little puppy teeth into.

Tanker followed him everywhere, and at last he had a real friend who loved him unconditionally. When he flew into a rage and kicked Tanker, the dog would yelp and run and cower until his anger subsided. Then Tanker would return to him, bouncing with affection.

"That dirty little dog has to go!" Nurse would yell at him in her drunken slur.

"No, Nurse Welks, you can't take my dog away!" He would grab Tanker's leash and run and hide with him.

One day when he returned from school, Tanker was gone. Nurse claimed that Tanker had run away, but he knew better. He pleaded with his parents to try to find Tanker or at least get another dog. Nurse had her say and they politely refused his request, promising him a trip to Disneyland instead. As excited as he was about the trip, a childhood dream, he could not be comforted over the loss of Tanker, his only companion.

He told himself that he would even the score with Nurse, if it was the last thing he did.

When Nurse drank, she appeared none too steady on her feet. He waited a few days, and one night when his parents were out, and he and Nurse had the mansion pretty much to themselves, he crouched at the top of the landing to Nurse's third floor room. It was late for a school night, and he felt very tired, but this was something he had to do.

As the clock struck a quarter to twelve he heard her footsteps coming up the stairs. She sang to herself as she always did when she was in her cups. She had her head down, and her steps were sluggish. He waited until she had almost reached the landing when he jumped out of the shadows and pushed her down the stairs as hard as he could.

A cry escaped her but it choked in her throat as the force flung her backwards, tumbling head over heels to the foot of the stairs. He heard a sickening crack, and saw her lying like a broken doll at the bottom of the landing to the next floor.

He stood in silence, feeling a mixture of triumph and sadness. He hated Nurse, but he also had depended on her. He really was alone now, no Tanker and no Nurse. He had not really meant to kill her, only to get even. He wanted to hurt her for taking Tanker away. He did not really even understand death yet. He looked at the strange angles of the body, the face deadly white, the eyes closed. No movement came from her twisted form, so he walked back down the stairs to his room past the broken body.

He lay in his bed awake for awhile, feeling guilty and afraid, but at last he fell asleep. He slept well past the time his nurse usually got him up for school. There developed a great commotion when the maid came and discovered the body. His parents awakened him and dressed him and rushed him to school, while the doctor and the police came. Everyone had said that it had been an accident. That was all, just a late night fall down the stairs and, of course, the blood alcohol proved she had been drinking.

"Governess has drinking problem...condition of the body indicates a long history of active alcoholism," the newspaper's headlines had read.

But his parents reply had been, "That's not true. We would never have entrusted the care of our son to an alcoholic. She had been with us for years, we had no idea."

He had come home from school and went into the kitchen for his usual heavy snack, when he overheard his parents talking in the library.

"Horace, do you think that Nurse Welks' drinking could have had something to do with our son's behavior problems over the years?" his mother asked in an anguished voice.

"It's really too awful to think about, darling. Don't worry your pretty head. We'll get someone responsible to look after the little guy this time," his father replied determinedly.

He was free of nurse at last, and his parents were a tad more careful with his next nurse. In fact, they had chosen a couple to watch over him. Unfortunately, the couple never thought the same way about anything, so he had two different sets of instructions for everything under the sun.

They were not abusive people, only confusing. He was not allowed another dog, but in a few years he discovered girls. He could impress them with his wealth and discover which ones would let themselves get involved in less-than-lovely relationships. He understood only one kind of love--selfish and controlling. In his late teens, drinking became part of the fun and games. He found a wonderful escape from himself and his guilt.

When he went too far, and became responsible for impregnating two young ladies, his parents bought his way out of a potentially-embarrassing situation. If a date were to be sent to the emergency room with bumps and bruises after one of his blind rages, the checkbook appeared, and all seemed mended. His father had never been a violent man, only an indifferent one. He knew that his father had no earthly idea of how to deal with his only son. And his father was too prideful to seek help. It was not done in his family.

At another time, he overheard his parents discussing their future plans for him. Considering his past behavior, he thought they were letting him off lightly. "He will outgrow this nonsense, dear. He'll be going away to college next year and the exposure to a higher class of people, plus the fact that he's growing up will make all the difference," his father insisted.

"I certainly hope you're right. I'm afraid he'll hurt someone seriously one day." His mother sat on the sofa facing her husband. He could see her reading the medical report from his latest encounter with yet another girlfriend. He heard the catch in her voice and saw the tears in her eyes. He wondered if she was remembering the two wrecked cars involving his drunk driving. Luckily, no one had been killed.

"I must spend more time with him...get to know our son. Maybe all of this would not have happened if I'd not been so terribly busy all the time," his mother said as she looked out the window at the well-manicured garden. "It's so simple to keep a flower garden...children are another matter entirely."

"Do what ever you think best, Dear, I’m sure that Robert will turn out splendidly after he finishes sowing his wild oats so to speak." Mr. Worthington insisted blindly.

After he returned from college, the problems seemed to stop, or at least they went underground. He had settled down to dating one girl at a time. He appeared as quiet about his comings and goings as always. He felt that his parents had never been interested in his life as a child, and he surely would not start sharing himself with them now. Besides, no one ever appreciated his lifestyle and his occasional lapses of good manners.

He did not understand his rages anymore than his parents did. It just happened, the urge to hurt someone, and he became used to doing what ever he wanted, regardless of who got hurt. He felt the ordinary rules of life did not apply where he was concerned. If anyone got in his way, he wrote a check. If that didn't work, murder would. He was capable of murder, if provoked and he knew it. This caused a curious feeling of power in his mind.

He lay back in his bed and closed the diary. He smiled. It had been so easy to do away with Nurse, and that stupid, insipid girl, Yvette.

Following Victoria was a new game for him. He became fascinated with her--the red curls trailing seductively down her back, and those bright blue eyes. But she never looked at him with anything approaching interest. He would try to win her, but if that failed, he had other ways of dealing with women who refused or irritated him.

A dark look came over his face and his eyes blazed wickedly as he looked into the mirror, recalling his encounter with the pale insipid Yvette. He laughed quietly. It had been so easy to lure Yvette back to her apartment and everlasting silence. "You love me, no you can't hurt me again! You love me as much as I love you!" Her cries were heart-rending but slowly a dullness glazed her eyes as she realized what he was about.

"Yvette, my dear, I used to love you but it is no longer convenient and you have refused to go away. Your pleas for matrimony are ridiculous. Don’t you realized that I could never be happy with one such as yourself, and your threats to go to my parents about your pregnancy and abortion and the rare occasions when I have beaten you for some good reasons are redundant. You have to admit I apologized profusely when I cut your lovely throat with that broken bottle and caused that nasty scar on your throat when I got a little tipsy that night at the bar. I paid all your medical bills and gave you a lovely little collection of jewels to make up for my little mistake. But enough is never enough for you. So I must make you go away permanently." He chided her as he sank the knife into her throat.

SAN FRANCISCO LADY - PAT SMITH

Chapter Eight

Victoria roused as the phone beside the bed rang loud and clear.

"Tory, I love you! See you later, Honey."

"Michael, I love you too." Tory whispered. It was not just a beautiful dream. It was morning and he still loved her just as he had declared the night before.

What a wake up call from Mike! She put the receiver down and snuggled deeper under the covers with shivers of delight. It was almost too good to believe. She had to call her mother and tell her the wonderful news that she was engaged to Mike, a bartender. On second thought, maybe she had better just say that Mike was her boss and let the bartender part come out later.

At length, she grew tired of lying in bed and talking on the phone. Thankfully, her mother had shared her joy and not asked too many questions about her intended, but she made it clear that she and her father would be making an inspection trip to the city very soon. Her mother might give Mike the third degree, but she knew her father would only ask if she were happy. Her strength was returning from the long, emotional evening. She hopped out of bed to wait on Miss Magic and prepare for another day at work. But even more important, she had to begin the wedding preparations. She took a steno tablet and began writing items down that would require her attention: wedding cake, invitations, gown, veil, shoes, and of course, a ring for Mike. No, not just any ring, but a beautiful heavy gold ring that would remind him every time he looked at it, just how very much she loved him.

* * * *

Mike opened the door to his establishment and admired the sparkling wine glasses hanging over the bar, shinning in the afternoon sun. He insisted everything be cleaned at closing so there was not the stale beer and ashtray smells associated with some clubs. The big screen TV hung in one corner with a cluster of tables around it. The television was situated so at least half of the folks seated at the bar could also enjoy the sports events that were the major draw.

A small restaurant next door was going out of business because the owners were moving back to their native Omaha. Mike had made them an offer he hoped they would accept. With Victoria's guidance, he wanted to expand his establishment and put a dance floor in, with a disc jockey and some records for starters, and maybe later a live band, if everything went according to plan. He had his dreams and now he had someone to share them with.

He smiled to himself, happy that all was right with his world, though he did have a problem in the frustration department. But at least he was sure that particular problem would be over soon. Just basking in the warmth of her love was enough for the moment. His thoughts turned to his early morning trip.

He had rolled out of bed early and drove up to see his parents on the farm. His mother was pleased that her son had at last decided to settle down and produce some grandchildren for her enjoyment. His father laid out plans for the engagement party to announce the happy affair to the relatives and friends of the LaRossa clan.

"When do we meet this wonderful little lady, Mike?" his father asked inquisitively.

"We're closed on Sundays, so how’s about I bring Tory up for church and dinner?" suggested Mike.

"The church walls may tremble, but it sounds fine to me, Son," his mother said, winking at him.

"Yes, it's been awhile, but I have a feeling that Tory will have me back on the straight and narrow in no time," Mike chuckled. All in all it had been a great visit with his folks.

Mike was brought back to earth when Della came in and gave him a curious once over.

"Well, Mike, how did your evening with Tory go?"

"Della, I'll tell you all about it later. Right now we have to get ready for the crowd."

"We've been getting more customers, Mike."

"I've noticed, and I think it's time to start doing a little remodeling and expanding."

"Sure as you do, the economy will take a nose dive."

"Do I hear some of that Spanish superstition, Della?" he teased her.

"I hear it from my mother all the time, what do you expect?" Della raised her shoulders helplessly.

Mike understood, but he needed some positive feedback so he decided to approach Victoria with his ideas for the bar.

As if on cue, Victoria came eagerly down the stairs, as she had been entering for some months now, but Mike was now more excited to see her than ever before.

"It looks like you two had some evening," Della said, mischief in her voice.

Mike took Victoria in a passionate embrace with a kiss to match. Casually over Mike's shoulder, Victoria displayed her ring finger for Della to see.

"Holy cow, you two are getting married!"

"We sure are, Della," Mike said proudly.

Della put down her tray of glasses and dashed out of the bar with a wicked grin on her face. She returned a half-hour later with some appropriate crepe paper banners with engagement party embossed in gold on them, which she proceeded to hang gracefully over the counter.

"You said you wanted to redecorate the place, Mike," Della said, "and I decided to help out."

"This wasn't exactly what I had in mind, Della. But it'll do, at least for tonight." Mike geared himself for a night of teasing and well wishers.

Later that evening, Moose came through the door and inspected the signs over the counter, and Victoria's ring when she waited on him. A slow grin of recognition spread across his face and he lumbered over to Mike. "You going to marry the pretty lady?"

"Yes, Moose, I sure am," declared Mike.

"Congratulations, Mike. I like pretty lady. She nice girl."

"Thanks, old buddy," Mike said, shaking hands with Moose.

It was almost closing when Anthony came in and seated himself at the bar. He was smiling, expecting to see Victoria momentarily, and he had no idea that the engagement signs over the counter could possibly include his girl. Mike started down the bar towards Anthony as the Doc watched him in anticipation of what Mike would have to say about his engagement.

"Hey, Doc, what do you think of Mike and Victoria getting hitched?" A well-wisher passed behind him with the news.

Anthony sat in stony silence, not wanting to grasp what he had just heard. He wished the place would swallow him up. Victoria was the first woman he had ever had serious intentions about. Having her snatched away by Mike was almost too much for him to accept.

When Mike got to Anthony, it was already too late. "Doc, I'm...." Mike paused in mid-sentence.

"I understand congratulations are in order, Mike," Anthony said in monotones, obviously not pleased.

"I love her if that's what you mean," growled Mike defensively.

"It's just that I was more than a little interested in her myself." Anthony bit his knuckle, looking away. The pain started in the region of his heart and spread to his whole mind and body.

"I know, Doc." Mike winced and walked away, returning with a drink. "On the house."

Anthony took the drink from Mike and swallowed it in one gulp.

"Hit me again, Mike." Anthony pushed the empty glass down the counter towards Mike.

Mike brought him another drink, and Anthony took it from him in silence.

"Doc, I'm sorry, I really am." Mike walked slowly away from Anthony.

Anthony rose from his seat at the bar and took his drink to sit down by Moose.

"I'm never going to date another barmaid, Moose. It hurts too much. Maybe I'm going to have to go back to dating debutantes like my mother wants me to. Oh, God, what am I saying? I hate debutantes!" Anthony drank his drink and looked with misty eyes at Moose.

"Gee, Doc, I hate to see you taking it so hard about Mike and Tory."

"That's an understatement." Anthony held his empty glass up for a refill, and Della came running.

"Another drink, Anthony? Aren't you hitting it kind of heavy?" Della questioned him, concern in her brown eyes.

"Yes, but it's a special occasion, my dear. We Frenchmen have our own ways of celebrating, especially when the wrong man gets the girl."

Della took his glass and walked away wiggling her behind enticingly.

"You know, Moose, I never noticed Della before," Anthony said. "But she's kind of attractive, especially from behind."

"I notice. I pinch Della sometimes," said Moose.

When Della returned with his drink, Anthony admired the kind, rather crooked smile on her face. Her nose was a trifle long and her brown eyes were a mite small in her plain face, but she had personality and liveliness about her that was quite inviting.

"Della, I'd be honored if you'd accompany me to breakfast, since I think I'm really going to need to eat when I leave here." Anthony looked towards Victoria, "and the date I thought I had is otherwise occupied."

"I think I understand all of that, and I'd be delighted to go to breakfast with you, only I'll have to call my mother and let her know, since she watches Hector for me."

"By all means, call your mother, and then come away with me for the evening...or morning." He was weaving slightly as he picked up his drink and drained it for the last time.

Later Della returned to his table. "Tory's going to close up for me, so we can go now."

Anthony rose unsteadily and put his arm around Della as they turned to leave.

"Good night all," slurred Anthony as he left, taking a farewell glance at Victoria working on the far side of the room. He had avoided her all evening. It would have been too painful to have spoken with her, and not something he felt he had to put himself through. He had given his best wishes to Mike and that was enough.

Anthony and Della wandered down the street until they reached an inviting all night diner. He led her inside and ordered some strong coffee and omelets.

After they ate he said, "I feel much better now, Della, thanks for coming with me."

"Hey, my pleasure, Anthony." She smiled warmly at him.

"You're a lovely woman, Della."

"Is that the booze talking, Anthony?" she asked sounding suspicious.

"No, not in the least. I mean that from the bottom of my heart." He stared at her, amused by her lack of self-confidence.

"If you're feeling better now, I think I had better go home. It's getting late, Anthony."

"I'll take you home, but only on the condition that I can see you on your next night off." He raised his eyebrows at her over a cup of coffee, wondering what her response would be.

"You have yourself a date," she said.

He put down his coffee cup and slid out of the booth. Leaving a tip, he picked up the check. He didn't feel so bad after all, except for the headache he knew would be pounding in his head by morning. He ushered Della to his car, and they drove across town enjoying the first cool breezes that meant autumn was on its way.

When they reached Della's apartment house, he put his arm around her and pulled her gently to himself for a quick good night kiss.

"Little lady, I think I'd have been really lost without you this evening."

"I'd hate to see you get lost, Anthony," Della said wickedly, and gave him a hearty good night kiss in return.

Anthony's ears rang and he could only gasp, "Della!"

"Goodnight, Doc, see you in a couple of days, sweet dreams!" She gave him an impish wink as she walked away.

He watched her go into the house, and thought, "I've been wasting my time on Victoria Bell. I can't imagine ever getting kissed that soundly by her. Maybe I had the whole Victoria romance thing built up in my mind. There is something so solid, so earthy about Della. But, oh God, how am I going to explain Della and her son, Hector to mother?"

It was late when Anthony arrived at his apartment. He lived in one of the quaint Victorian houses with the ornate bay window painted in whimsical periwinkle blue. His small set of rooms were plain, except for the wall-to-wall bookshelves he had installed to hold his vast medical book collection. A baby grand piano stood in the small parlor. Music was one of his passions and he played, usually late at night, to keep his fingers nimble for surgery.

He looked in the mirror on his medicine chest--slightly balding, the rather pronounced family nose, and piercing black eyes looked back at him.

"I'm not exactly Mel Gibson. Alas, women have always found me forgettable. Maybe if I tried being a bit more generous, I'd have better success."

Having given himself a talking to, he stumbled into bed to sleep off the booze.

The morning sun found him sprawled on the bed with a pillow firmly held over his head in a vain attempt to stop the pounding in his head. "Death, where is thy sting?" He rolled over and moaned. "It's in this horrendous hangover." Then he thought, the next time I encounter a broken heart, I'll simply kill the unyielding female, instead of myself with alcohol.

An hour passed and Anthony found he could endure sunlight without experiencing severe pain. "Mater and Pater, I must trot myself out to the estate or risk being disinherited." He slung his body off the bed and made for the shower. He grimaced, thinking, the sacrifices I make for that pot of gold at the end of my rainbow!

If this interest with Della lasted more than a few dates, he would probably have to inform Mummy. She had friends everywhere and that network of spies served her well. She knew more about his comings and goings than he did.

Anthony was not a fashionable person, but he did his best to look acceptable for his parents. They could not fathom his lack of concern for material possessions. He liked his money in the bank where the sums added up nicely, only so long as you didn't touch it.

He left the apartment, his haven from the world, and drove off in his old cadillac. His one concession to luxury was a good quality CD player so he could enjoy his classical music while driving Highway 29.

Mentally, he reviewed his surgery schedule for the next few days. He would see Della again very soon, one way or the other.

His feelings for Victoria Bell would die unless Mike lived up to his reputation for being a womanizer and dumped the red-haired beauty. Even in that unlikely event, one look at her face had been enough to tell Anthony that she had never cared for him the way she cared for Mike.

Della was a different story. His thoughts were broken as he neared the family mansion. As distant as his parents were, he had to admit he had put them through some unpleasant times as a youngster, sewing his wild oats.

He swung into the drive and parked as close to the mansion as possible. He slipped his keys into his pocket and stepped out of the car with a flourish. He whistled Debussy as he walked up the steps.

As he approached the front entrance, he shivered. He sensed a coldness. The feeling was so intense that he had felt it, even as a little boy. But he had used his antidote for loneliness well. Voracious reading was the skill that had made his medical education possible. The large oak doors loomed ahead of him ominously.

SAN FRANCISCO LADY - PAT SMITH

CHAPTER NINE

Mike motioned Victoria towards the door after closing.

"Honey, we are going to be the featured guests at an engagement party my parents are going to give us so we need to go up there for a weekend."

"Sounds great, Michael, and I have news for you. My parents are coming up soon to give you the once-over. I have to tell you that my mother warned me against bartenders, among others."

"I don't know if I like the sound of that. Your mother warned you about bartenders, are you serious?" he asked her.

"When you meet her, you'll understand, Michael. She's a real no-nonsense type mother," Victoria declared.

"I was going to suggest we move in together, but I guess we'll have to wait until after the wedding for appearance sake, right?" He looked at her with sad, puppy-dog eyes.

"Exactly, Michael!" She beamed back at him.

"I've always enjoyed being the lone-wolf type. Sleep until whenever, fix my own meals," Mike explained. "But something has come over me since we met, Honey, and I can't wait to tie the knot and become a permanent part of your life."

Victoria could see that Mike was struggling to explain his feelings. She kissed him on the cheek. "Trust me, Michael, the wedding will be all planned and over before you know it," she said confidently.

They left the bar together and when they reached her apartment, Mike said, "I guess I'd better go now." He half turned to leave.

Victoria hung her head. "I guess so," she said quietly.

"But I'm not going to!" Mike turned back and held her fast in an embrace.

She reached into her purse for her key and unlocked the door to her apartment. She and Mike stumbled into the living room and closed the door softly behind them.

"You're a creature of moods, I see, Mr. LaRossa," Victoria managed between kisses.

"You might say that, and this is one mood I've been waiting to express for months!" he said, the wicked gleam in his eyes sent a spiraling warmth through her body.

"And what mood is that, Michael?" she asked innocently.

He looked at her face. "My need for you, Tory. You're all I think about morning, noon and night." His soft answer awoke feelings in Victoria that she didn't know existed.

Her heart beat quickened as she was drawn against him. His hands passed over the lush curves of her body with gentle assurance.

"Michael, I've been waiting all my life to fall in love. It happened to other people--friends, but never me...until I met you." She wrapped her arms around his neck. "I've been in misery all these months since we met."

"Your misery is about to be over, Tory," he murmured, then released her.

She looked into his darkened eyes and saw the fiery passion as his fingers slowly began to remove her black satin uniform from her shoulders, exposing her breasts. She kissed his lips hungrily. He then bent down to kiss and tease her nipples with his tongue.

Victoria gave a low moan of pleasure. His lips and hands sent vibrations through her body, leaving her weak. She fumbled for the buckle on his trousers. He helped her, and she placed her hand on his manhood, fondling him gently. He responded by stripping the scrap of provocative satin to the floor, leaving her naked before him.

"You don't know how long I've been waiting for just the sight of you, Tory," he said hoarsely.

"I hope the sight is not enough, Michael," she answered, her eyes dark with desire.

He tenderly picked her up, and carried her to the bed. He burned a trail of kisses along her throat, down the valley of her breasts. Her heart hammered within her chest as his hands stroked her stomach, then between her thighs. She moaned with pleasure as his fingers found the hidden place of desire between her legs and caressed her into ecstasy.

"Michael, I never knew it was this wonderful!" she sighed.

"Tory, are you going to tell me that you're a virgin?" he asked, leaning on his elbow over her.

"No, I wasn't going to tell you, I was going to let you find that out all by yourself," she whispered.

"I can't stop now, Tory, I can't!"

"Stop now, and I'll kill you, Michael."

"That's not a nice thing to say to your fiancé, Tory," he said, easing his muscular body on top of her. He kissed her fervently, placing his tongue inside her mouth while cautiously entering her.

She clung to him. Tears stung her eyes as she experienced pain, but as he thrust deeper the pain began to recede, replaced by spasms of pure pleasure carrying her to the heights of passion that she had only dreamed of.

After their lovemaking, Mike rolled over, drew Victoria close and cradled her head in the crook of his shoulder.

"Will it always be like this for us, Michael?" she asked.

He kissed the top of her head. "It can be like this forever as long as we stay close and open with each other."

"You know, I think even my mom will approve of you."

"She must be a wonderful woman to have a daughter as sweet as you."

Victoria was silent for a moment. "Will you still love me the same?" she asked.

"Always, Honey, always." He squeezed her tighter. "I'd have waited until our wedding night if you had informed me, Tory," he assured her sincerely.

"But I've put you though so much already. I told you that my mom was strict."

"I'm glad, Tory."

He rolled her over onto her stomach and said, "I think you need a back rub."

His hands on her back stroking and rubbing caused her to almost purr with pure delight. When he had finished, she motioned for him to roll over and she returned the favor, but the whole process got out of hand and soon she found herself in his loving embrace swept away on waves of passion.

At last they dozed, a fine sheen of sweat covering their spent bodies in the rosy light of a new day.

Mike woke to an unaccustomed sound, sort of a low key motor sound right beside him on the pillow. He opened his eyes. A gray fur expanse in front of his face was making the purring sound and Magic's tail was curled gently under his chin.

"Tory, Tory, would you please remove that cat from my face?" he requested, shaking Victoria awake with his arm.

"Oh, Michael, Miss Magic likes you!" Victoria rose up to find her cat wrapped around Mike's pillow.

"Yeah, and I'm really glad about that, but not in my face, please, Tory."

Victoria reached across Mike and picked up the cat and placed her on the other side of the bed.

"She usually stays away from other people, but she must really like you to get that close on a first meeting." Victoria smiled at him approvingly.

Mike sat up and gave her a good morning kiss, one that made her hungry for more.

"Can I use your shower, young lady?" He asked as he rose from bed.

"Sure, silly!" She leaped out of bed, threw on her robe and pranced to her linen closet and handed him a clean towel.

Mike took his clothes and headed into the shower while Victoria went to the kitchen to start the coffee.

In a few minutes, Mike stood before her dressed, his hair wet, holding a cup of coffee, and a rakish grin on his handsome face.

"Let me guess, while you shower, I'll have to go to the store if I want anything decent to eat," he said, looking at her bare cupboards.

"How did you know?" She frowned.

"I've been working with you for months now, Tory, and I know that you don't exactly pig out."

"Oh! I thought you just read my mind. If you wouldn't mind picking up whatever you like and a morning paper while you are out. I have a lot of shopping to do for the wedding...if you still want to marry me?" She glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes, examining his reaction.

"Are you kidding? Now more than ever, Honey! If only you would agree to elope, we could get married tonight. Oh well, I guess that’s asking too much. I'll be right back with the breakfast stuff," Mike said and started out of the apartment while Victoria stepped into her shower.

* * * * *

When she returned to the kitchen, towel-drying her hair, she chanced to glance out her back door. There was a very large man like Moose standing across the street, looking up from the shadows. A chill went through her and she wished desperately that Mike would return. How long had the man been there and what did he want? Had he been the prowler with the knife? She stepped closer to the window. Perhaps it was someone who just looked that big. But how many people looked as large as Moose?

There was a rap on the front door, and Victoria rushed to let Mike in. She dragged him to the back door where they both peered out. However, the person across the street had vanished.

"I'll question Moose, Tory. But I've known him for a long time. I know he's a very large man and if he got mad at somebody, his fists are registered as lethal weapons. But his mind is not the same. Too many years in the ring, he lost it. He wouldn't come after you or anyone with a knife unless there's a lot more to my old friend than I think. Hell, I've been aquatinted with the guy for ten years or better." Mike shook his head.

"I feel the same way you do about him, Michael, but the man at the window that night was a very large man, and what in the world would Moose be doing across from my apartment, watching my back door?" Victoria wondered aloud.

"Beats me, Honey. I'll question him and if you think we should, I'll call the police." Mike put his hand on his head, obviously concerned.

"No, no, Michael, don't do that to Moose. Can you question him first, without him getting upset?"

"Yeah."

Victoria took the sack from him while he sat down at the kitchen table to read the paper.

"What did you get us for breakfast?"

"I bought some Canadian bacon and eggs and, of course," he gave her a big smile, "bread for toast that you always talk about having for breakfast."

"Are you making fun of me because I like toast so well?"

Mike pointed his finger to himself. "Me, never, perish the thought," he teased her.

"I'll bet you have some unusual tastes," she winked at him playfully, "and I'll find out all about them when we are married."

"What I have a taste for is you, Tory, and don't ever forget that," Mike said as she busied herself making their breakfast.

They ate the eggs, while examining the paper and commenting on the articles and advertisements.

Mike asked, "Remember when I mentioned about remodeling the bar? Do you think a dance floor would be too much?"

"No, Michael, I think you'd be right on."

"Well, I know what Della would say - something negative and superstitious."

"Poor Della, she has it rough, that is why she is so down on everything." Victoria sympathized.

When they finished eating, Mike helped with the dishes. After a sizzling kiss and a promise of more to come later, they went their separate ways.

* * * *

Mike arrived at the club with a sense of foreboding about talking to Moose. But it had to be done. He was busy putting kegs under the counter when Della came in singing to herself.

"Della, it's strange seeing you in such a good mood. Anything exciting happening?" Mike asked.

"You'll see later, Mike!" Della had a grin as big as Christmas.

"Huh?" Mike shrugged his shoulders and went back to hefting the heavy kegs into their slots.

Victoria came in with a bounce to her step that was impossible to miss.

"Gee, I have the happiest barmaids in town." Mike laughed at Victoria dancing around the bar, and Della singing.

"What's wrong with that, Mike?" Della asked smartly.

"Nothing. Believe me, I'd rather have it this way."

"And I'd be willing to make a bet on why you and Tory are enjoying life so much these days." Della eyed them knowingly.

Around eight, Moose came in and sat at his usual table. Mike motioned for Della to take over at the counter. Taking a beer with him, Mike went to his friend's table.

"Hey, Mike, what's happening?" Moose looked up at him, puzzled.

"We must have a little talk," Mike said, looking at his old friend doubtfully.

"Okay, talk."

"This morning, Tory thought she saw you out her back door watching her apartment. Can you explain that?"

Moose looked directly at Mike, and for once Mike had the feeling there was more going on behind those big dull eyes than he had ever given him credit for.

"I can, Mike, but I not say now." he shut up and looked away.

"This is very important," Mike said and put his hand on Moose's arm to get his attention.

He shook Mike's hand off, a determined look crossing his face. "No, I cannot talk about pretty lady now."

"I don't want to bring the police into this unnecessarily," Mike warned, "but a woman was murdered, and if you had anything to do with it..."

"No," was all Moose would say and he looked away again. Mike knew it was useless. his friend was in his own world as usual.

He left the table, unsatisfied with Moose's answers, but unable to bring himself to call in the police yet.

Mike was mixing drinks when the telephone behind the counter rang.

"Hey, Della," Mike yelled, "it's the Doc on the phone." Mike raised his eyebrows suggestively.

Della almost ran across the room and grabbed the receiver from Mike's hand.

"Yes, Anthony?" Della listened intently and then her expectant smile fell.

"Oh, sure, I understand--being a doctor and all." She continued listening.

Mike felt really bad as he watched her downcast face. Della meant a lot to him, and he hated to see her disappointed.

"Tomorrow night? Ah...sure, sure, Anthony." Della's smile slowly returned. She handed the phone back to Mike and went back to waiting tables.

Mike was relieved. He was afraid that maybe the doctor had sobered up and found Della beneath his class.

She came to the counter with another drink order.

"You and Anthony, Della?" Mike asked her.

"What's it to you, Mike? You and Tory think you're the only ones in this joint allowed to have fun?"

"Perish the thought, Della. I was just telling Tory at breakfast that I wished a more fulfilling lifestyle for you."

"I'm happy for you and Tory, really I am. I never thought I'd see the day that you'd fall so completely for one woman, Mike. But Anthony is different. He's been too busy being a doctor to get around much. He could have a good thing in me, and I'm going to make him appreciate me if I can," Della declared with only a hint of doubt in her voice.

"I can vouch for you being a good woman, Della. I could never have gotten this place off the ground without you."

"Thanks, Mike."

Victoria came to the counter and asked, "Did you get any answers out of Moose, Mike?"

"No, he wouldn't talk about it, except to deny any wrongdoing."

"Oh," she said, clearly disappointed and vaguely frightened. "Did I hear Della talking to Anthony on the phone, or was I imagining things?"

"That wasn't your imagination. Della has her cap set for him," Mike said in a lighter vein.

"Fantastic!" Victoria was beaming. "I felt really bad dropping Anthony like that, but now if he and Della become an item, I won't have any regrets at all."

"Well, I hope things work out for Della but I have my doubts about the good doctor." Mike said mostly to himself, wondering if Anthony would show up tomorrow night for his delayed date with Della.

SAN FRANCISCO LADY - PAT SMITH

CHAPTER TEN

Mike took Victoria by the arm and they left the club together, arm in arm as was their custom. He enjoyed taking her for an early morning breakfast before retiring to her apartment for a good night kiss which frequently lasted until dawn. This night, being no exception, she dozed in his arms until after eight-thirty in the morning. Then his slumber was disturbed by a gentle knock on her front door.

Mike shook her awake gently, and the knocking came again only slightly louder.

"Who's there?" Victoria called out in a sleep-filled voice.

"It's mom and dad, Honey. Hope we didn't wake you?"

"Oh, no!" Victoria said softly. She got untangled from Mike's arms and sprang from the bed and began dressing at warp speed, trying to make as little noise as possible.

"I'll be right there. Michael, "my fiancé", and I were just having a little breakfast before going out to do some shopping," she called aloud to cover the noise as they made the bed, threw some dishes and silverware on the table and dry cereal. At last, they decided they were as ready as they could be in ten seconds flat, and then with a big smile, Tory opened the door with no make up and her hair a mess.

"Mom, Dad, how nice of you to come! I want you to meet someone very special, Michael LaRossa." Victoria introduced them, and Mike shook hands with her parents, a welcoming grin glued on his face.

"Glad to meet you at last. Tory has told me so much about you," Mike said, recovering his composure and offering his hand.

"We came up as fast as we could when we heard our little girl’s news about her engagement. We are pleased to meet you, son. It was sure a surprise." Mr. Bell came in the door shaking Mike’s hand vigorously.

"Well, you're one up on us, young man. Tory has not really told us a whole lot about you yet, but we're here now," Mrs. Bell said ominously.

Mrs. Bell looked over the table with a mother's keen eye.

"This doesn't look like a proper breakfast," Victoria's mother said, shaking her head at the cold cereal. "Why don’t we take you children out for something hot?"

"Sure, that would be great... Michael?" Victoria looked at Mike hesitantly.

"Sounds fine, Tory. I don't have anything planned this morning, uh, except the shopping we were going to do," Mike added quickly.

Mrs. Bell looked at the two of them suspiciously. It was obvious that she guessed her daughter probably had company last night. But she and Mike were engaged, the ring on her finger that Mike had purchased was proof of that.

"You do have a beautiful ring, Tory." Mrs. Bell took her daughter’s hand and examined the ring more closely.

"Thanks, Mom. I picked it out myself." She smiled, self consciously, and looked at Mike.

"That was very sweet of you, young man. Our Tory can sometimes pick out rather extravagant items." Mrs. Bell acknowledged that it was certainly not a cheap ring.

"You raised a wonderful daughter, and nothing's too good for my Tory!" Mike praised his fiancee.

"Would we interfere if we went along on your shopping trip?" Mrs. Bell asked.

"Really, Mom, I think it would be better if, after we get a bite to eat, you and I do some preliminary bargain hunting before we get down to the nitty-gritty and actually pick out the wedding invitations and napkins and cake and all the necessities. Dad and Michael can go down to the bar, and Dad can help stock."

"Bar?" Mrs. Bell looked as if she might faint.

"Yes, Michael owns the establishment that I work at. In fact, he tends bar there, too." Victoria decided to explain the whole bar business.

"Tory, after all we've taught you, you decided to get involved with a bartender?" Mrs. Bell looked at Mike as if he had suddenly grown horns and a tail. "No offense, young man, but," then turning to Victoria, she finished, "where is your head, Victoria?" Her voice rose with each word and when she ended her face was beet red.

"Mom!" Victoria stared at her mother hard with every ounce of defiance she possessed.

Her mother mumbled, "Two years of secretarial school down the drain." Her emotions spent, Mrs. Bell's shoulders slumped but it was plain to Victoria and Mike that Mrs.Bell was accepting the inevitable.

"Breakfast. That sounded like a good idea, Victoria. We need to go to breakfast now. Come on, Mother," Mr. Bell said, grabbing his wife's arm and propelling her towards the door before she could come back with any more negative comments.

* * * *

Mike smiled as he took Victoria's hand, and they all left together for a very busy day. At the small breakfast restaurant they decided on, Mike refilled his coffee cup for the third time.

"Late night, Mr. LaRossa?" Mrs. Bell asked suspiciously.

"Yes, ma'am. We close up usually by two or so and clean up is a lot of hard work," Mike informed Victoria's mother.

"Well, I guess there's more to this bar business than I imagined."

"There sure is, Mom. Mike and I work hard," Victoria said with enthusiasm.

Breakfast went well, and Victoria was relieved to see her mother soften a bit towards Mike. She kissed Mike a quick farewell as he took off for the bar with her father, and she and her mother headed for the large downtown mall. The shopping took hours as Victoria expected. But at last it was over and she readied herself for work back at her apartment. Her father met the women back at Tory’s apartment.

Victoria appeared in her barmaid costume and her mother's mouth flew open. "Oh, Mom, this is what all the girls wear at Mike's Place," she said quickly, trying to explain her clothing before her mother gave some kind of negative response.

"Horace, I think I'm going to faint," her mother began hysterically, her voice escalating and her face turning red once again.

"Now Mother, Tory is just dressed for work. She's not a baby anymore, and she's engaged, leave her alone."

"Thanks, Dad." Victoria kissed her father's cheek and hurried out the door. She was proud of the way her father stood up for her. Her mother usually had the last word. She smiled to herself and was in a good mood when she arrived at work.

"Hey, Tory, I enjoyed stocking with your dad, he's an all-right guy. But you know, Honey, I don't think your mom is exactly crazy about me."

"No? whatever gave you that idea, Michael?" Victoria teased. "Don't worry, when Mom gets to know you, like I do, she'll warm up to you."

"I hope you're right. I'd hate to be on the outs from day one with my future mother-in-law," Mike said, a worried expression on his handsome face.

Victoria put her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek.

"Mike, I'm drained after shopping all day with my mother. I don't know if I can keep my eyes open at work tonight," Victoria complained.

"Honey, you do look tired." Mike raised his eyebrows. "I'll see if I can get someone else to cover your shift and you can take the evening off to spend some time with your parents."

"Mom was getting ready for bed, and Dad was watching the news when I left," she explained.

"Hold on a minute." Mike went to the telephone and a few minutes later returned to her side, triumphant.

"Louise will come in!"

"Michael, is that the same Louise you went out with a time or two?" she asked suspiciously.

"I feel our first argument coming on, Tory." Mike took her by the shoulders and pulled her close. "I love you and I'm going to marry you, but this is my job and I'm going to associate with females in my business. But I promise you, Tory, you have no reason to be jealous," Mike told her confidently.

"I can't help it! Sometimes, I feel insecure," she shook her head sadly. "I just love you so much that I can't help being a little possessive."

"Believe me, I understand perfectly. I had the same feelings when you were dating Anthony," Mike admitted.

Victoria's face brightened. "I guess we're even."

"We sure are. Now, are you going to go home and enjoy the evening with your parents, sleeping or whatever, and leave me to do my job?" Mike questioned her. There was a smile on his face. "Yes, dear," she said obediently, and put her coat back on to leave.

"Did your Mom say anything about this morning, Tory?" Mike inquired.

"Well, she asked if I had a good night's sleep, and I think she has her suspicions that I didn't." Victoria winked at him.

"Tonight, you can catch up on your sleep because your honeymoon is approaching. Any timetable yet, Tory?" Mike sounded anxious.

"Does October still sound okay?" She wondered if that might be too soon for Mike.

"Any month, just so I can have you all to myself and soon!" Mike grabbed her for a kiss good night before she waltzed out the door, as if she were floating on air.

Louise came in after Victoria left and began the evening routine. Mike was working hard keeping up with the growing crowd's drink orders when she slipped up to him later and gave him a sly look.

"What's up, Louise?"

"I may have a date later. You and Tory may not be the only love birds at Mike's Place."

"A regular?" Mike asked, wondering who could have caught Louise's eye.

"I'm not going to say yet, only he really seems to be stuck on me," she said. "But I know he has dated other women here."

Mike was puzzled why she was being so secretive. Well, she was entitled to date whomever she chose, so he said, "Have a good time."

He watched her go back to waiting tables and thought to himself that who ever her new beau was, he could do worse than Louise. She was a good-looking woman, friendly personality too. Mike decided that if he had to open one more keg, he was going to close early. But he knew the crowd wouldn't go for that, so he opened the keg anyway. At that point he saw Anthony enter.

"You look rather distraught, Mon ami," Anthony said.

"We've been busy," Mike explained, filling some beer mugs for an order.

"Where's my girl?" Anthony asked dryly.

"You mean Della?" Mike motioned across the room. "Over by the TV, serving a sports party."

"Hope she isn't as tired as you look. I have a big evening planned for us," Anthony said.

"Della is tireless, I've never seen a woman with as much energy," Mike said, praising her.

"I've noticed. She's really something. How come the two of you never dated, Mike?" Anthony wondered aloud.

"Della's like a little sister to me. She started working here when I opened the place."

"I understand. The nurses I work with are like that to me. You don't have any objection to my dating your "little sister", do you, Mike?" Anthony asked seriously.

"Isn't it a bit unusual for a surgeon, born to the upper crust, to be dating the working women at a place like mine?"

"I care about Della," Anthony replied, perhaps a trifle to quick for Mike's peace of mind.

It was ridiculous to think that way, but weren't surgeons experts with knives? The thought entered Mike's mind even as he pushed it away.

"You have my blessing, Anthony. I think you and sis will make a great pair."

Mike saw Della spy Anthony at the bar and she came over to him as quickly as she could.

"Della, this evening we'll go shoot some pool and then hit one of those all night diners with breakfast specials, or maybe a hamburger place."

"Oh, Anthony, you really know the way to a girl's heart. Isn't he too much, Mike?" she asked as she traced Anthony's jaw with her finger while giving him a come hither look that would have melted the South Pole.

"Yeah, he sure is," Mike answered dryly. Cheap is the word that came to Mike’s mind but if the two of them enjoyed less expensive activities, who was he to tell them where to go on a date?

"Anthony, I have to check my tables or lose Mike some business," Della explained as she winked at him before hurrying off.

"That's right, Della," Mike said, and chuckled to himself as he polished some glassware. It seemed that cupid had made a particular target out of his place.

Anthony asked Mike if he could place a call as his pager had gone off. Mike handed the telephone he kept behind the bar to the doctor. "It's kind of noisy in here, Doc, would you rather go into my office to use the phone?"

"No, it's okay, Mike." Anthony dialed the number and said, "This is Doctor Derofert," he spoke harshly. "Damn! I'll be right there." Anthony handed the telephone back to Mike. "Mike, please tell Della I had an emergency and I'll call her later." With that he left the bar.

Mike wondered if the doctor would call Della or forget all about her; he could tell just how much Della cared about Anthony but he wasn’t sure if the affection was reciprocated.

After Louise and Della finished closing up, strictly out of curiosity, Mike watched to see who might be picking Louise up, but she left alone. Who would want to keep their romance a secret at Mike's Place where practically everyone knew everyone? But now the crowd was becoming so large that it was impossible to know who was there and with whom.

Mike watched Della leave for her big evening with her eyes lit up like Christmas. She said Anthony had called and told her where to meet him. Mike watched her go, glad to see Della so happy. But he wondered if the good doctor would really meet her or stand her up?

Mike smiled to himself, thinking that Anthony's idea of a big night on the town was probably some hamburger place. Still, the doctor appeared to be a regular kind of guy, and Mike liked him in spite of a few nagging doubts about the man.

Mike left for his lonely apartment. A couple of months was not a long time to wait for a wedding, but he was desperate for Victoria. Every hour they were apart went by ever so slowly. He had never felt for any woman the way he felt about her. He could only hope that once they were married the feelings would level out so at least he could concentrate on his work again.

"I'm a hopeless case," he said aloud. He went to the kitchen and made some coffee and turned on his giant television for company. He even missed her darn cat, Miss Magic, pest that she was. What kind of spell had Victoria Bell woven over him? He could almost smell her soft perfume. In his mind he could see her lovely face, her dazzling blue eyes.

He settled into his large overstuffed brown chair and set his mug on the small table where he kept a pile of paperwork to read at odd moments. On his desk in the corner, books were set up in a row where he kept his records in good order. He was an organized man when it came to business.

His barbells and bench were in the back bedroom, and he usually held to a strict workout routine. Victoria Bell had thrown his schedule off considerably. But after the wedding, in the sanctity of his own home, perhaps his life would settle into a more workable arrangement, or at least he could hope it would. Mike found his eyes closing and he dozed off in his chair peaceably.

* * *

He sat impatiently drumming his fingers on the table as the seconds ticked by waiting for her to appear. She had promised to meet him precisely at one a.m. at an all-night restaurant but she was already a half an hour late. He intensely disliked waiting.

Already he could tell she was going to be difficult. He guessed that was what had attracted him to her. She had a mind of her own, just like Victoria Bell.

It was the hell of his life--the mousy type women who would allow themselves to be slapped around didn't turn him on. He wanted a vivacious woman with a mind of her own, but the very women he felt attracted to ended up making him angry to the point of losing control.

At last she came in and hurried to his table. "I'm not late, am I?" she asked sweetly with those large, expressive brown eyes.

"You kept me waiting just a few minutes, but really, it was nothing," he said imperiously. "I thought we'd see one of those all-night movies and have a few drinks at this after-hour club I know in Haight Ashbury."

"Sounds exciting," she said, her voice sounding provocative. "I like Haight Ashbury, the different boutiques and colorful characters that hang out there. But I've never been to the clubs at night."

A smile spread across his face. Perhaps she would be more fun than he had first surmised. "You like excitement, Louise?"

"Yes, of course, doesn't everyone?" She raised her eyebrows.

He hesitated, looking at her face, her mouth, the richness of her long black hair, before he answered. "No, some people are real spoil sports when it comes to fun," he said sourly. Then he changed the subject as the waitress brought their meal. "As you can see I've already ordered...ribs, they're prepared here just the way I like them, meaty, dripping in sauce."

He saw that she was watching him eat, and she grimaced when he viciously tore into the meaty portion of the rib. He slowed his eating, trying to put on his best manners.

When the waitress came by, he ordered beer for them. She was picking at her food and it annoyed him. He wanted to grab her plate and finish it himself. When the beer came, he drank several bottles of the frothy cold brew quickly and it took the edge off his impatience. At last she finished and pushed back her plate. He motioned for the waitress and paid the bill.

"I know something exciting we can do, much more so than see a movie," he said, watching her expression to see what kind of response he would get.

"Oh?" She sounded intrigued.

He pulled her up by the arm. "Come along, you'll see." Excitedly, he lead her back to his car.

He opened the door for her, a gleam of anticipation in his eyes. After she was carefully buckled in, he gunned the engine and sped toward Lombard Street, the world's most crooked street stretched before them in the moonlight. He put the car in low gear and started down the steep zig-zagging brick curves as fast as he cold manage them.

He saw her expression change from enthusiasm to fright as she clutched the dashboard. "Don't worry, my dear," he laughed as he completed the last hairpin turn and continued down the steep hill near the bottom of Lombard at breakneck speed. Then he took off for a quaint bar decorated in the 60's style in Haight Ashbury.

After a long silence, she finally said something through clenched teeth. "That was thrilling all right, but I'm not real enthused about ending up in a car crash."

"Now, hold on, I haven't harmed a hair on your pretty little head," he said, reaching out to stroke her long hair. He added quietly to himself, "Yet."

They sped through the night and ended up at the cozy club. He always had a bottle of Seven in his trunk for just such occasions. When he got out of the car and opened his trunk to retrieve the bottle, an elderly whiskered man came along the side of the car, hands extended, begging for the whiskey.

"Get out of here, you damn bum!" he cried, slapping the vagrant rudely out of his way.

"What the hell are you doing?" Louise asked watching the scene with alarm.

"Just getting him out of our way, Princess."

"You didn't have to knock him down," she replied angrily.

He looked at her face, the anger smoldering in her ebony eyes. Quickly he decided that if he wanted to end the evening in her arms, he had better watch his step. "I'm sorry, really. Those kind of people get on my nerves," he apologized half-heartedly. Then he opened his wallet and flipped the man a ten as the vagrant crouched against the wall.

She glanced up at him curiously, her brows puckered, then proceeded inside the club for a few drinks. He knew she was fascinated with his family, his money. But so far he had failed to impress her personally. The evening was not over yet. He would pull out all stops on the old charm routines he knew so well.

He ushered her to a choice table, having tipped the captain generously. He saw a smile return to her lips as the band began a new set. He put the bottle on the table and ordered set-ups and a large appetizer tray of cheese and crackers.

When a slow dance was played, he took her skillfully into his arms. "You amaze me," he said, after they had talked on the dance floor. "You seem to know so much for not having a college education."

"Why, thank you, kind sir. Actually, I have always loved to read and that has stood me in good stead almost everywhere I go."

"Such beauty and brilliance are a rare combination, my dear." He leaned down to give her a light appreciative kiss on her cheek. They moved together gracefully across the dance floor, and he felt her begin to relax against him.

She smiled back at him, and he felt a stirring in his heart. He had not felt anything for any other woman since Victoria. Maybe, he would be released from his obsession, if only she would be compliant. Time would tell; romance tended to be so hard to predict, and he so hated not being in complete control of any situation.

SAN FRANCISCO LADY - PAT SMITH

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Mike walked into the bar late in the afternoon after a vigorous workout at the gym in an attempt to relieve his frustrated libido. He had talked with Victoria and her parents about his plans to renovate and enlarge his establishment. Her mother had agreed on theory, since she disapproved of the whole business, but Victoria's father had even made helpful suggestions from his business experience.

Consequently, when Mike entered the building, he had already employed a half a dozen workers busy papering the walls, putting up light fixtures and surfacing a dance floor. Mike's Place was certainly growing and he felt a certain amount of justified pride that all the work he had put into the business was finally paying off.

The phone rang as he entered and he strolled behind the counter to take the call.

"Michael," came a seductive voice over the receiver.

"Tory, don't even tell me, you went shopping with your mother again today and you want another night off," Mike snapped, exasperated.

"How sweet of you to read my mind," Victoria replied.

Mike knew he was being hard nosed. Tory had been faithfully showing up for months. She had a right to play a little hooky now and again for mental health sake if nothing else. On the other hand, she did not have to be this perfect person either, why was he finding himself being so exasperated? She was known to be a wee bit late every so often. What harm did it do to be human after all?

"My, my, testy, aren't we? Now, I know that Louise will probably be more than happy to come in for me," Victoria suggested sweetly.

"Louise has a day job and she's agreed to come in occasionally when I need her, but I can’t count on her." Mike said. "Besides, she has a new boyfriend and I'm sure she doesn't want to spend all her nights filling in for you."

"A new beau? Hmm...what is he like, do I know him?"

"Don't get off the subject, Miss Bell," Mike argued but he was beginning to soften.

"Sweetheart, I understand that I have a job to do, but this is my first and only wedding, and you've no idea of the details Mom and I are attending to. Why, the guest list alone took all morning. By the way, how did you sleep last night?"

"I slept cold and alone. The same way, I trust, you did, except for your cat and your parents," Mike said. "Miss Bell, I'll call Louise, but I expect you in tomorrow night or I may fire you before the wedding and I've never fired anyone in my whole life," he threatened jokingly.

"I promise to be there tomorrow, Michael, and I won't take off again until closer to the wedding, because most of the footwork is done," Victoria answered. "By the way, my parents are going home in a few minutes so we can meet at my place again tonight if you're interested."

He felt a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth that completely obliterated the frown he had been wearing.

"I guess the silence means you're still mad at me and not coming tonight?" she questioned.

"Tory, honey, I'll be there with bells on!"

"That should be interesting," she said as she hung up.

For an innocent girl, his beloved Victoria had teasing down to a fine art, Mike thought to himself.

He phoned Louise and sensed her reluctance to come in, but she said something about not wanting to be alone and agreed.

"I thought you found a new romance, Louise?" asked Mike over the phone. "What's this alone business?"

"Nothing, Mike, I don't want to discuss it." She hung up, leaving Mike to wonder just what was going on. He made an inspection tour of the work accomplished so far on his establishment and decided that things were progressing at an excellent pace.

Louise came in later, and Mike noticed something odd about her face. He did not have much of a chance to think about the change in her because business was booming. So much so that Mike came out from behind the counter when Moose came in and asked his friend to come to work for him.

"I like that very much, Mike. I like to work. I work hard for you." Moose looked more than pleased and put the white apron on that Mike offered. Moose went straight to work, hoisting the heavy barrels as if they were match box toys.

"You sure make that look easy, Moose," Mike said. He still did not know why Moose had been watching Victoria's apartment on that one occasion, but nothing out of the ordinary had happened since then, so Mike's suspicions had lessened.

As the evening wore on, Mike noticed that Louise was sweating mildly as she moved rapidly around the tables, cleaning and taking drink orders. When she approached the bar and stood in the light, Mike could see that the heavy base powder she wore was beginning to fade.

"My God, Louise, what happened to your face?" Mike stared at her.

"It, it's nothing. It was an accident." Louise put trembling fingers to her face and turned slightly away from him.

"What's going on, Louise? Do you need my help?" Mike saw the tears start in her eyes and hastened to reassure her, "I'm here for you if you ever need anything."

"You know, when you get mad, really mad,...things happen...but it won't ever happen again. He told me so, Mike," Louise said shakily, her head lowered.

Mike touched her shoulder gently. She turned, and his gaze met her solemn, anxious eyes. "I was taught never to hit a woman, Louise, no matter what, and I believe in that," he said softly. "I don't understand, but I just hope there's nothing going on here that you can't handle."

Louise stepped away from his touch, and her voice seemed to beg him to believe her next words. "I really think it's going to be okay. He assured me and he was so sorry. He is an educated man and I really think he didn't mean it to happen," she said, defending her suitor.

Mike filled her order and she picked up her drinks and went back to waiting on customers. Mike had an uneasy feeling. He reasoned that Louise was a grown woman and he couldn't force himself into her affairs, even if he didn't like what he saw.

After awhile, Louise was back at the counter and spoke to Moose. They appeared to be in a deep conversation. Mike knew Moose did not have the capacity for an in depth conversation with anyone. He wondered what was going on? Could Louise's mysterious suitor be one of his old boxing buddies that Moose knew? Could her boyfriend be Moose? Moose was a pleasant enough guy, at least Mike had always thought so. With his loss of language, scarred face and huge build, Mike hardly thought a looker like Louise would go for a man like Moose. Of course, there was no accounting for taste. But that would mean Moose had hit her cruelly. That, too, Mike found hard to believe.

At last the night came to an end and Mike closed up and stopped at an all-night grocery for some whipped cream on his way to Victoria's. He smiled. Tease him, would she? He was going to tease her right back.

There she stood in a sheer cherry colored waltz-length nightgown that clung to the ripe curves of her body ending in black butterflies appliquéd on the hem where it caressed her knees when she opened the door just enough to let him in. His fingers itched to undo the graceful black butterfly drawstrings at her throat.

Mike all but lost his composure when he saw her. He hurried inside the apartment, pulling her to him. She smelled sweetly like bubble bath, and her long red hair was done up on top of her head in a graceful ponytail.

A smile played on his lips before he lowered his head and found her mouth. Her kiss answered his, softly, hungrily.

She finally pulled herself away. "What have you there?" she asked, curiously eyeing the sack tucked under Mike's arm.

He grinned wickedly as he took the can out of the bag and showed it to her.

She looked up at him with her China blue eyes wide and a surprised expression in them as if he had suggested something sinful. "Michael, I've heard of such things, but I don't know...."

"Nothing to worry about, Honey. Just leave the whipped cream to me." He squirted some on her upper lip and licked it off temptingly.

"Hmm, taste's pretty good," she said, kissing him back.

"I've missed you, bride of my heart. When exactly is this wedding going to take place?" he asked. His hands stroked her shoulders softly. "I really can't stand these nights without you, whipped cream or no whipped cream."

"Is that so?" she said, drawing back from him. "Well, I need to get the guest list from your parents, and I was thinking we can tie the knot by the twenty-fifth of next month."

"That sounds wonderful to me, Tory. I missed you today, Honey." He leaned closer until her breasts pressed against his chest. His lips moved along her cheek. Turning his head until her lips touched his mouth and their tongues met he kissed her as if he were starving. All he wanted was to have her in bed with him and wrapped close in his arms.

Then Victoria took the spray can, still eyeing it with suspicion, and led him into the bedroom. Slowly, he removed his clothing so he stood naked before her. Then he untied the strings at her neck and the gown fell to the floor. Drawing back, his eyes dark and passionate as they took in the pale loveliness of her nude body. At last he gazed into her eyes, her beautiful blue eyes fringed with long lashes--dreamy eyes--eyes in the liquid depths of which it was easy for him to lose his senses. The heat of his hunger spread with eager bounds through his loins.

She held the can and tried spraying a little of the cool, sweet stuff on his rising manhood. "Hmm." She smiled seductively. "Interesting, Michael, very interesting." She had taken over the play and Mike could see that she was on fire for him. She touched him with her tongue with longing reverence, no one had ever made him feel more treasured. Underneath the playful exterior, he knew that Victoria really loved him.

Mike groaned in pleasure, "Oh, Tory, you're a fast learner." These were his last words, for a long while.

Morning sneaked in and woke the young lovers who were fast asleep with satisfied smiles.

"That cherry nightgown is one of the most beautiful chair covers I've ever seen," Mike said admiringly.

"Thank you, darling," Victoria said, stretching her naked body in the sunlight that filtered through the drawn curtains.

Mike's breath was warm against her cheek as he left kisses on her eyes and ears, fondling her ears with his tongue, causing her to shiver when she felt the nibbling of his teeth against her shoulders.

"Just being here beside you, Michael, is tempting me beyond belief," she said, giggling. "I never knew sex could be such a feast. Maybe I wouldn't have waited so long, if I knew--"

"Only with me, you vixen," Mike said, threatening her with the empty whipped cream can.

"Yes, husband-to-be," she agreed to his terms, "only with you!"

The knowledge that her fiancé had been around was rather hard for her to understand, and it made her uneasy. She wished all of this could be the first time for him, too. But then, maybe it was better that at least one of them knew what they were doing. After all, she mused, the whipped cream would not have been something she'd have thought of all by herself.

Mike said that he wanted to phone his parents, so she put on her bathrobe and went into the kitchen to make coffee and toast.

"Well, what did they say, Michael?"

"They're excited about the engagement party, and they want me to put up a sign in the bar to invite all our friends. My parents will fix enough food for the whole county," he said and smiled. "My father loves parties, no matter how much time and money it takes, but my mother is more practical."

Victoria suggested, "Can't we help in some way?"

"I told them we'd supply the wine and liquor from the bar and I’ll pay for the clams and ears of corn they're roasting. Business has been going really well for me." Mike poured himself a second cup of coffee before saying, "They can't wait to meet you, Tory. They said you sound like a real sweet girl." Mike grinned at Victoria. "Of course, I didn't tell them that you are even sweeter in bed!"

Victoria snatched the dish towel and threw it at Mike. She laughed at him as he grabbed her, pulling her onto his lap. "After we're married, Tory, you're going to have to keep some real food on hand." He kissed her neck. "I can't go until lunch on a piece of toast."

"Touchy, touchy," she said, kissed him on the mouth, and flounced out of the kitchen with her coffee cup. She headed into the bedroom to make the bed.

She noticed that Mike followed her, contritely. "It just occurred to me that on the salary I pay you, toast and coffee is probably all you can afford for breakfast. How's about I give you a little grocery money to tide us over until after the wedding when we can at last move in together officially, permanently, forever!" He offered her some neatly folded bills.

"Actually, all the shoes and expensive cat food I buy sort of interferes with buying extra groceries." She confessed. "I really don't need it, but I thank you for the contribution and so does Miss Magic." She took the folded bills sweetly. "We can go shopping together so I can find out what you like to have in the fridge."

"I agree to a joint shopping venture and by the way, I plan on asking your folks about letting me help pay for our wedding. I know your folks aren't wealthy, just small town decent people like mine."

"I'm sure they will appreciate that, Michael."

Victoria guessed that between the wedding and remodeling, Mike's bank account would probably be taking a beating. Thank heavens his business was doing so well.

Back at the bar, Mike hung a banner over the counter that announced the engagement party at the LaRossa Ranch. His mother would advertise in her church bulletin so all the LaRossa clan would see it. At last he was going to settle down and eventually make Annabell LaRossa a grandmother. He knew that it couldn't be too soon for her. The LaRossa family had been too long without a baby around the house to suit his mom.

His mother had always wanted a big family, but when Mike was still a baby, she had fallen off one of their frisky horses when she was pregnant, and suffered a miscarriage that had ended her hopes for a large family. He knew her heart now was filled with dreams of a very special little one...or two grand babies. His mother was very special to him. She had always backed him even when he left the farm for the city. His dad had had a hard time dealing with Mike’s decision to leave home for the city life.

That had been a good move Mike reflected. He knew he was a positive force in his business world. The people who frequented his establishment were his friends. He guessed he was like that old Will Rogers' saying, "He never met a man he didn't like." Well, almost never. He guessed that was one of the things that drew him to Victoria. She was a positive, hard-working woman who enjoyed the crowds at the bar, like he did. Life was sweet, except for his nagging doubt about the attempted break in at Victoria's apartment and the possible connection with the unsolved murder of Yvette.

SAN FRANCISCO LADY - PAT SMITH

CHAPTER TWELVE

Anthony noticed the trepidation on Della's normally-cheerful face when she took him home to meet her mother a couple of weeks later. She hesitated at the front door and withdrew the key from her purse, biting her lip in a nervous gesture.

Mrs. Salle greeted them at the door of her tiny crowded apartment. "Doctor Derofert, what a pleasant surprise."

Anthony shook the older woman's hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you at last, Mrs. Salle."

A large smile spread across her careworn face.

"Bring him in, Della, I'll set out coffee or maybe you would like a little sangria?"

"No wine, Mrs. Salle, coffee would be just fine," Anthony answered. He watched amused, Mrs. Salle went scurrying into the kitchen while Della showed him to a chair in the sparsely furnished living room.

"Mamma is impressed. I've never dated a surgeon before," Della said and sat next to him.

"She shouldn't feel that way, Della, after all, I'm just a man," he said, noting the gleam in Della's eye.

"And what a man," she said with a sigh.

Anthony’s face warmed, but a good feeling spread through him. No woman had ever responded to him the way Della did.

Mrs. Salle returned a few minutes later with clean chipped china into which she poured warm strong espresso coffee. At the same time, she offered them sugar and cream, and some home-baked saffron bread--a Spanish delicacy.

"Very good, Mrs. Salle," Anthony said, tasting the warm fruity bread.

From where he sat, he could see the view from Mrs. Salle's second floor apartment which took in the rich multi-national neighborhood. Chinese restaurants vied with Italian restaurants in the low-rent district close to Fisherman's wharf. Anthony loved the liveliness of the area, the crowded streetcars and bustling sidewalks. He wanted to cure, to help humanity rather than be separated from it.

His parents were descendants of the French aristocracy, one of the rich wine producers in Napa Valley. His father had wanted him to take over the family business, but Anthony would have none of it. Since he had been a teenager, after an emergency appendectomy, he had been fascinated with the surgeon's knife. Now once again, he would be in conflict with his parent's wishes, his mother in particular, because of his choice to date Della, his wonderful exotic Della.

"You don't drive a very fancy car for a doctor," Della's mother stated shrewdly.

"Mamma!"

Anthony patted Della's hand. "It's okay, Della." He looked at her mother and said, "No, I don't drive a fancy car, Mrs. Salle, but mine gets me where I want to go." He smiled briefly, then grew serious. "I do tend to be a bit cheap, but I really don't care all that much about comfort or impressing anybody."

Mrs. Salle shook her head. Anthony could tell his personal philosophy was over the older woman's head.

"You met my Della at Mike's bar. What were you doing in a place like that, Doctor Derofert?" she asked suspiciously.

"I like Mike's Place. It's cozy, homey and relaxing after the long hours I spend in surgery," he explained.

"Mamma, please stop with the questions!" Della begged.

Anthony saw that her mother's questions were embarrassing Della, so he suggested that they take Hector for pizza. Mrs. Salle declined to accompany them, so the three of them left.

"Your mother has her doubts about me, Della. Do you?"

"No, Anthony, of course not," she declared.

But he detected some reservations in Della's eyes. Perhaps she did not really understand him either. It was a lonely thought.

The three of them had a lovely evening at the pizza parlor. Hector played games and kept up a running chatter. The boy delighted Anthony except for the usual boy rowdiness such as when he leaped into his chair and sent his glass of soda flying.

Anthony was watching Hector when he commented, "Mostly, I only see very ill children in my practice, Della, my sweet, and I find Hector great company. I've been sequestered away from society so much with my studies and career."

"I was afraid you might not understand my Hector. He's a very lively little boy," Della replied.

"But also very intelligent and his motor skills are excellent. If he had a mind to, I think he'd make a good surgeon. But that's a very long way down the road."

"Are you trying to lead me on, Anthony?" Her dark, proud eyes seemed to look into the very depths of his soul.

He felt uneasy for a minute, but slowly a smile came to his face. "Yes, Della, I sure am," he announced.

Emotions flickered across her face as she turned from him slightly, and he saw her bite her lip. He eased her back a bit with his arms so he could look at her. Was she afraid to dream that they might have a future together? The thought of the two of them sharing a life together entered his mind as he gazed into her eyes. He was beginning to dream those dreams himself.

On the way home, Della finally said what was on her mind. "Do we get to meet your family, Anthony?"

There it was, staring him in the face. Was he a snob or not? He realized the confrontation with his mother would not be easy, but if he wanted to keep Della, he would have to make the effort.

"We'll be having a wine tasting party for the new wines a week from Sunday at the estate, and I'd be delighted if you and Hector would accompany me, Della." He looked into her dark dancing eyes and drank in the heady adoration he felt there.

"That would be great," she said quickly with a beaming smile. Then she paused sharply. "What do we wear?"

"Not to worry, my sweet. I'll supply you and Hector with dazzling wine tasting outfits, if you'll supply me with your sizes."

He was confident that at the largest Macy's department store in the world located in the heart of downtown San Francisco, he'd find just the right outfits. True to his word, Anthony arrived at Della's door with an assortment of boxes the following Sunday. It was after eleven, but because of closing at "Mike's," Della had just risen. She hurried to let him in and let out a squeal of joy. Hector came running, and since he was not accustomed to receiving many new clothes, he, too, was excited. Della and Hector tore the boxes from Anthony and began holding up the outfits for inspection.

"Oh, Anthony, it's too beautiful," Della said, a tear trickling down her cheek.

"Ah, Cher, it's not half as beautiful as you are." He liked the look of the smart black velvet jumper held next to her and the dainty white satin top complete with a small black velvet hat and veil.

Hector burst between them, holding his sharp navy suit and red tie.

"Gee, I've never had a suit since the one Nana made me for First Communion, and it wasn't this cool."

"Now, quickly you two, get dressed, Mummy will not like it if we're even one minute late for the wine-tasting ceremony," Anthony said. As soon as they were dressed, he ushered them out the door leaving Mrs. Salle to enjoy some much-needed peace and quiet.

The air was crisp and cool as they left San Francisco, heading northeast, on one of the busy bridges that lead out of the city. Anthony always enjoyed the drive through the small towns, the countryside softening into the rich valley that bore the neat vineyards. Champagne houses dotted the landscape. Hector described every dog, every bird, every truck they passed in loud detail while kicking the back of Anthony's seat. Anthony felt his temper rising. Was Hector acting like that deliberately to annoy him, or was it just the normal hyperactivity of a small boy? Della was engrossed in watching the passing small towns and fields as they drove along. Evidently, she was used to Hector's antics and did not seem to notice. Finally Anthony could stand it no longer.

"Hector, stop kicking my seat and please tone your voice down! We're enjoying your guided tour of our drive, but you don't have to broadcast to the entire state of California."

He clenched the steering wheel and turned only slightly while lecturing Hector. His first impulse was to smack the boy, but he fought that idea.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Anthony. I didn't notice. Hector, you heard what he said, stop right now." Della hastened to chastise her son.

Anthony relaxed his grip on the wheel. The fact that Della backed him on the issue made him feel much better. Hector made a face, but he stopped kicking the seat and piped down a bit. At last they pulled into the circular drive in front of a massive stone structure.

"Do you really live here, Doctor Anthony?" Hector asked in awe.

"Yes, Hector, this is my parent's home, and all this land," He waved with his arm, "is their vineyards."

"Gee, you could have a big dog here, Doctor Anthony!"

He was silent for a minute before answering, "Yes, Hector, I did have a dog here once, a long time ago, but I didn't get to keep him, sadly enough."

Hector jumped from the car and made a dash around the driveway. Anthony could tell that the boy had enjoyed a chance to drive outside the city, since neither Della or her mother had a car. But Anthony knew the bus was really more convenient in San Francisco, since there was a definite shortage of parking places.

Anthony helped Della from the car and walked with her up the stairs to the impressive oak doors with the Derofert crest engraved upon them. He rang the bell and a tall older man in a butler's uniform answered, giving Della an appreciative once over.

"You have an exceptionally lovely lady there, Master Derofert." The butler grinned.

Della smiled back at him, and Anthony could see her stand a little straighter, seemingly with more confidence.

"Thank you, Paul, and this is Hector, Della's son." Anthony beamed proudly, as if Della's son were his own.

The butler nodded at Hector. "Follow me into the library, Master Derofert," Paul said, leading them across the foyer to another set of heavy oak doors.

Anthony took Della's arm and Hector's hand tightly. He felt the tension mounting as he neared the library. All at once the doors opened and his parents were standing in the room lined with books from floor to ceiling. There were several massive desks placed about the spacious room.

Anthony's mother came forward with a cool smile on her finely chiseled face. She had jet black hair, white teeth, and surprisingly few wrinkles. In comparison between the women, Della's mother looked more like a comfortable pillow, while Anthony saw his mother as a bony, harsh, though still beautiful, older woman.

She gave Della a limp hand in greeting. "My dear, Anthony has told us all about you, and," she looked down at the child, "And this must be Hector."

"It's a pleasure to meet you both." Anthony's father came forward, bearing a warm smile for Della and a stick of hard candy for the boy. "Hello, Hector."

Mr. Derofert was balding with gray hair and a fine mustache on his lip. He had not been very happy about his son's choice in a woman from the lower class of life, but he had less desire to meddle in Anthony's love life than his wife did.

"Come along, the soiree is about to begin. We can all go in the limo. Paul, please bring the car around." Anthony's mother beckoned them to follow her.

Anthony noticed that his mother cleverly seated herself between himself and Della, and began conversing exclusively with him, ignoring Della completely. He felt the old anger and frustration returning.

"Excuse me, mother, I need to tell Della and Hector about the winery," he interrupted his mother's dialogue. "There was a terrible blight on the vineyards in France many years ago, and Napa Valley in California had the closest climate to mother France. The champagne houses moved their operations here for survival and, as you can see, some of us stayed."

It was a short drive from the mansion, and in minutes they were piling out of the big car and up the cement steps, past an ancient wooden wine press. Anthony saw that Hector was thrilled with the place. They walked through the entry way and down a long hall lined with a couple of souvenir shops where visitors could purchase everything from T-shirts and wine glasses, to ordering bottles of the fine wines made there.

Hector raced ahead and scouted both shops. Anthony could not resist the boy's huge pleading brown eyes. And shortly Hector moved down the hall laden with T-shirts, cork screws, every trinket he could carry.

"You're spoiling him," Della scolded Anthony.

"But he's just a boy, Della, how can I say no?"

"You haven't changed, Anthony," his mother said darkly.

He turned to put his arm around Della's shoulder and spoke softly in her ear, explaining his mother's remark. "Mummy thinks I have no self-discipline."

Della looked up at him. "But you're a surgeon, and that takes a great deal of discipline," she whispered defensively.

At last they were climbing down the stairs to where the bottles of new wine were stored. As they neared the area, voices of a small crowd assaulted their ears, echoing in the cavernous place.

The glittering crowd appeared before them dressed in haute couture. Anthony could tell that Della was overwhelmed when her mouth slightly opened and she stared at the assembly. Even Macy's finest could not compete with some of the designer costumes, jewels and furs worn by the wealthy landowners gathered there.

Anthony looked at his mother. A sinister smile appeared on her face, and she took Della's arm and proceeded to introduce the young woman to some of her friends with a heavy sprinkling of French phrases. He was certain Della felt even more left out.

Hector held Anthony's hand tightly. Many of Anthony's friends and acquaintances came over to introduce themselves to the young boy. Anthony was trapped and helpless to try and rescue Della. At last, his mother tired of her little game and brought an embarrassed Della back to him.

"You must teach Della some of the mother tongue, Anthony, mai oui?"

"Yes, Mummy, there's nothing I'd like better than to give Della some private French lessons." Anthony gave Della a quick wink. He saw that his answer did not please his mother at all.

Mrs. Derofert stiffened. Her face closed down over the emotion that had shown there a moment before, closing him out. It was something he had seen a hundred times before. "Touché." His mother bowed slightly, acknowledging that her son had gained a point. She left them to circulate among her friends.

He saw Della's worried expression and his face creased into a smile. "Don't worry, cher, she has never been into the mother thing. You mean so much to me, Della." Suddenly he realized his growing feelings for the irrepressible Hector in addition to his love for Della and his admiration for her as a good mother to her son.

"I feel very out of place here, Anthony. Maybe your mother's right, I just don't fit in," Della confessed with tears in her eyes. "Please take us home."

"Just stay until we have eaten the hors d'oeuvres and tasted some of the wines. There are none better than here," Anthony pleaded.

Della wiped at her eyes, nodding her head, and meekly followed Anthony. He got a soda for Hector so the boy would not feel left out of the festivities.

"I know these people are strange to you, Della, but believe me, I'm a surgeon, and their blood is not blue, but red like yours and mine. They're born, they live and they die just like everyone else."

"You have a wonderful attitude, dear Anthony, but I'm used to waiting on these people."

"I don't live this way, my parents do," he continued to press his argument.

Her crooked little smile lit up her face, and at last he had her convinced, at least for the time being that she truly belonged here with him.

Anthony guided Della and Hector back to the room. "It begins, cher."

Waiters in black tails carried silver trays piled high with caviar, crackers, grapes, all manner of delicacies, while at either end of the room, tables were set up with the bottles of wine and crystal glasses.

"You see, Della, just a taste of cracker to clear the palette and a sip of wine," Anthony said, offering her a sample.

"So you can get drunk and fat all at the same time?" Della cracked.

Anthony laughed. "That's my Della talking. I thought I'd lost you in all this." He gestured to the opulence surrounding them.

"You did for awhile, but I came back to haunt you." She winked at him mischievously, and she pinched his bottom discreetly beneath his suit coat.

"Hum, you certainly know how to get my attention, Miss Salle. Only it is a little crowded in here to respond in kind." He raised his eyebrows at her.

"You are the one who likes this crowd, Anthony, the whole place is a little bit much for me." She tilted her head and looked at him out of the corner of her eye.

"This whole scene is beginning to tire me, do you mind if we go back to my apartment?" he suggested with a flirtatious grin..

"Are you forgetting we have Hector with us?"

He felt disappointment came like a shadow across his face. The anger was there again, but this time he controlled it. Anthony slowly regained his composure as he looked at Della. He realized she was still scrutinizing him carefully.

"Ah, yes...Hector. Forget that suggestion, my sweet," he said in a steady voice. "What if we take in a movie? There's a Disney replay, and then take Hector back to your mother's...and later possibly back to my apartment...." A mischievous smile stole over his face. His hormones were telling him to take her home all right--his home.

With a shrug, Della answered, "Possibly."

She could drive him crazy. Who would have thought that such a mousy blond could have so much fire? Anthony was in the throes of a passion for this woman the likes of which he had never felt before.

They said polite good byes to his parents and left while the party was still in full swing. They excused themselves, the reason being Hector and the drive back to San Francisco. But Anthony knew his true reason and that was to get Della alone before the whole day slipped away.

The Disney movie was so full of color and good humor that Anthony found himself enjoying it immensely. He thought, maybe this father business isn't so bad. My father was always too busy with the social scene and making the wines to spend an afternoon with me. I think, perhaps, he missed something: we both did.

"Popcorn is much better than that fish stuff, Doctor Anthony." Hector interrupted his thoughts.

Anthony laughed. "You think so, Hector? Well, maybe you have a point there but I don't believe I have ever heard caviar called that fish stuff before."

"The movie's almost over, ready to go home to Nana and call it a day, sport?" Della asked her son.

"Yeah, Mom, `cause you know what I think?"

"No, but I'm sure you'll tell me," Della whispered.

"I think you and Doctor Anthony want to go somewhere without me," Hector said smugly.

"Got it all figured out, huh?"

"Well, it's okay, Mom, `cause I had lots of fun today." He settled down in the theater seat, his eyes almost closing as he yawned.

Anthony was amused with Hector's wisdom. He was a good kid, just annoying sometimes.

The movie ended and Anthony carried Hector's sleeping form to his old cadillac. It had a very roomy back seat and Anthony managed to position Hector in the seat belt without waking him. Della asked as they drove home. "How did you enjoy the day, Anthony?"

"I love spending the day with you and Hector, cher. I know you were uncomfortable around Mummy and her friends, but if you'll let me, I can teach you enough French to be a little more comfortable with them." Anthony looked at her inquiringly.

"It might be worth it, if we're going to continue to see each other," she added doubtfully. "Perhaps today has made you think twice about us?"

"But, cher, I must see you!" he declared. "You and Hector made it through the party with flying colors. Please don't let my family drive you away from my arms!"

"As long as you feel that way, I'll try. But I must warn you, I was not a whiz in school."

"This will not be like school, Della. This will just be me teaching you some French conversation. You can do the same for me with Spanish, no?

"First, we'll try the French. If I can get anywhere with it, then we can try the Spanish. Comprende?"

"Si si, oui oui!"

Della laughed. "You nut."

They arrived at the apartment, and Della led a groggy Hector inside and put him to bed.

"Thank you very much for keeping Hector for us, Mrs. Salle," Anthony said, slipping a fifty into her apron pocket.

"You don't need to pay me, Dr. Derofert. I keep Hector all the time. But thanks," Mrs. Salle said cheerfully.

Anthony led Della outside and propositioned her with an evening drive to the twin peaks that overlook San Francisco and the Golden Gate Bridge. The weather was clear, perfect for viewing the glittering lights of the bridge and the city. It was going to be a cool fall evening, but Della had changed into a sweater and jeans.

"And we'll just hold hands?" Della asked, all innocence.

"Cher, I can promise you the world, but I can't promise you that," Anthony said devilishly.

He held her close to his side as they walked to the car. "We can practice some French up there, Della."

"I'll just bet we can." She looked up at him with one of her winning smiles he was so utterly powerless to resist.

His heart was beating fast as he said, "You have my undivided attention. One little kiss before we drive off?"

"Just one?"

He took her in a crushing embrace, taking the full sweetness of her lips with his mouth. Several hot, breathless moments later he pulled away. He looked at her upturned face and soft dreamy dark eyes.

Tonight was going to be a night to remember. With Victoria it would have been much simpler, Anthony reflected. She would have been accepted by his parents more easily than Della because Victoria was educated and she looked the part of a French aristocrat's wife. There were still some deep feelings that stirred in him about Victoria. With Della, acceptance from his parents was going to be much more difficult. But Della was so incredibly sexy and wonderfully affectionate. If he was not in love with her, at least he was surely in lust. His parents had always been cold and distant. With only this woman, he felt the closeness and warmth he had always longed for.

SAN FRANCISCO LADY - PAT SMITH

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The LaRossa's horse ranch looked like a gigantic parking lot to Victoria. She mused that all of Michael's family and friends in the area were present, plus many of his friends and employees from Mike's Place. It was Sunday evening and, since Mike's was closed, the crowd had migrated to his parents' farm. Victoria's parents came for the engagement party, along with her aunt and a cousin or two, the small Bell clan, which made Victoria feel more at ease with the large gathering.

The clams and ears of corn were roasting in a pit tended by some of Mike's uncles. Victoria was glad Mike had brought a truck load of good wine and sodas, while the women had brought their specialty dishes. Tables groaned with sourdough breads, chowders, and rich fruit pies. Guitar strummers were everywhere, strolling and singing love songs.

Victoria and Mike stood in an informal greeting line with their parents, as well-wishers shook hands with them. It had all happened so fast, the engagement, the wedding plans and now an engagement party the likes of which she had never seen. Victoria was from a small family, raised in a small town with a limited social life. Suddenly being thrust into the center of Mike's big family and his many friends and customers from the bar made her dizzy. The names and faces whirled in her mind but she tried her best to remember all of them.

She had wanted her independence from her mother and Elk Grove. Clutching her secretarial diploma in her hand and all the courage she possessed, she had left for San Francisco. At first, with the secretarial positions she had managed to find, the whole idea seemed to be doomed to fail. She had been almost ready to pack it in and move back home on more than one occasion. But she was a fighter and at last she had found her niche.

"My hand is squeezed beyond recognition, Michael," Victoria complained.

"Keep smiling, honey, because when this line is through, I have plans for squeezing the rest of you." Mike winked at her mischievously.

"A lot of help you are," Victoria said.

Mike looked up to see Anthony and Della in line. "Doc, Della, so glad you guys could make it!"

"We are honored to be here with you two lovebirds, and to think that I thought you were an unlikely couple when I first met Tory!" Della hugged the happy couple.

"I think it's some kind of malfunction with the air conditioner at the bar--this love stuff is contagious." Mike grinned.

Della glanced around. "The air conditioner had nothing to do with Anthony and me, Mike, and she gave a wicked wink to the good doctor. "Hey, some party!"

"Almost too much," Victoria replied wearily.

Anthony and Della left to join the merry-makers leaving Mike and Victoria to their endless throng of congratulators.

Moose came through the line with a grinning widely. He grabbed Mike's hand and almost pulled him out of the line with his powerful greeting.

"Happy, Moose happy for old buddy Mike and Tory."

Mike rubbed his shoulder, "Thanks, Moose, we appreciate you coming."

Mike looked at Victoria and rolled his eyes as Moose left, shaking his limp hand. Victoria almost cracked up with suppressed mirth.

At last the line died down, and Victoria suggested they slip away from the party crowd.

"Sounds good to me. Stay here, I'll be right back." Mike was only gone for a few minutes and was back at her side with their jackets. He took her hand and headed away from the lights to take a relaxing stroll in the woods behind the barns.

"You do remember everyone you met tonight, don't you?"

"In a pig's eye, Michael. You have more relatives then any man has a right to," Victoria said, smiling.

Mike put his arm around her shoulder, laughing. "You have to remember there are a lot of big families here, and the reason I can remember all of these people is I grew up with them," Mike explained.

Victoria knew he was trying to make her feel at home. It would take time but she would fit into his world. They made quite a team, she thought proudly. "At least I do know most of the crowd from the bar. If I didn't already work there, I'd really be up a creek," she said.

Victoria clung to Mike as they walked among the trees and enjoyed the star show in the sky peeking through the tree limbs. The clean, crisp night air was pungent with the smell of the woods.

"It really is peaceful out here in the country, Michael," Victoria said, beginning to relax. Her shoes rustled the scattered leaves as they walked down the path through the woods.

"This is my favorite part of the ranch. I like to have people around me, but I also enjoy the quiet times, Tory."

"My family is small and I'm not used to a lot of people, but a big family is fun, too. However, I much prefer the peace and quiet out here," she replied, breathing in the fresh smell of the woods.

The cool fall breezes caused Victoria to shiver slightly.

"Should we go back to the warmth of the crowd?" asked Mike.

"No, Michael, let's steal at least a few more minutes by ourselves," said Victoria as she plunged on into the night, pulling Mike with her.

They had walked about half of a mile when Victoria tripped over something buried on the leafy forest floor. "Oh!"

Mike caught her before she hit the ground. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, I guess it's a log or something."

Mike had a flashlight in the pocket of his jacket and he handed it to Victoria. He then bent down to push the obstacle out from the path. She shone the light on the barrier. "Oh, Michael, your hands!"

He looked at his hands which were covered with warm sticky blood. "This isn’t my blood, something is terribly wrong here!" Quickly, he removed the leaves from a body.

"My God, it's a woman!" the horror of finding a body on the forest floor twisted Mike’s face with horror and shock. He bent down and cleared the debris from her face. Death had hardened the features of the woman into a mask of fright but Mike recognized Louise.

"It’s Louise, Tory."

"No, Michael, no it can’t be!" She looked over his shoulder at the pale face of the dead woman staring up at the moon with sightless eyes.

It was late, almost midnight, and Victoria and Mike sat in the kitchen drinking coffee. After finding Louise, they ran back to the house and Mike called the police. The police came at once and bagged the body. Victoria and Mike, their families and guests, watched the murder site being roped off until it could be properly searched and photographed in daylight by evidence specialists. The party had come to an unexpected halt. Now guests were being questioned and sent home.

At that moment, Sheriff Biggs came into the kitchen, adjusting his gun and holster hanging on his hip. "Mike, I need to ask you again exactly what happened." He sat down at the table, taking out his pen and notebook from his shirt pocket.

"She must have been wrong about that guy she was seeing. I should've done something!" Mike stood with his fists clenched and went to pour himself another cup of coffee.

"Michael, what are you talking about?" Victoria asked, still in shock about what had happened.

Mike looked at the sheriff, answering his question. "We got here around six, Tory and me. We brought the wine and sodas, so we unloaded the truck and helped with the final preparations. The guests started arriving about seven. Tory and I stayed in sort of a greeting line until around nine. Then we decided to get away from the crowd for awhile. We were just taking a walk in the woods up behind the barn when Tory stumbled over the body," Mike said sadly.

"How long had Louise worked for you, Mike?" the sheriff asked.

Victoria noticed that he wrote down everything that Mike was saying. Sheriff Biggs appeared to be a man who did his job efficiently without displaying emotion.

"She really didn't work for me on a regular basis. She just came in when I needed extra help," Mike explained, "maybe two years."

The sheriff flipped back through his book, then looked at Mike. "You said earlier that you might know what happened."

"Yes," Mike answered, nodding his head. "Louise told me she was dating someone, but she was keeping it a secret for some reason. He hit her, judging by the marks on her face, pretty hard about a month ago. I don't go for that sort of thing, and I tried to warn her against whomever it was, but she seemed to think it was a one-time deal, and he'd never hit her again." He leaned against the sink and put his hands over his eyes and shook his head sadly.

Sheriff Biggs looked at Victoria a moment before asking, "Miss Bell, can you tell me anything about the man Louise was dating?"

It seemed like a terrible recurring nightmare to Victoria. First Yvette, then the attempted break-in at her apartment, and now Louise. Victoria put on a brave front, but inside she was crumbling, her stomach was tied in knots, and she hoped her voice wasn't too shaky as she answered the sheriff's question. "Louise worked part-time as a fill-in, usually when I was off, so I never got to know her personally." She looked at Mike.

"I wish I could tell you something about the man that did this to Louise, Sheriff." Mike punched his fist into his palm in frustration.

The sheriff continued to write. "My deputy is finishing up with your folks in the living room, and I need to ask just a few more questions."

"How about some coffee, Sheriff?" Mike asked.

"Yes, thanks." Sheriff Biggs waited until Mike poured the hot liquid into a cup and sat it on the table, then he stated, "There were multiple knife wounds in Louise's back, and she hadn't been there too long when you and Miss Bell found her. Did you see her with anyone at the party?"

Mike shook his head. "No, in fact, we didn't see her at all. But she was invited here along with the other employees and customers--friends from the bar."

Victoria sat and listened to the two men discussing what had happened when a thought crossed her mind. She hated to think it but she had to say it. "There may be a tie-in here, Sheriff Biggs. Early this spring in San Francisco, a woman That I had met briefly was stabbed to death. She was dating this guy I used to work for. I went out with him once, but I didn't care for him. He was really sort of a jerk, and in fact, Mike had a run-in with him at the bar."

"Who is this person?" Sheriff Biggs demanded.

"Well, his name is Robert Worthington, and he's a big shot lawyer in the city. The police cleared him on the murder of the woman, Yvette, his girlfriend. He could have been here, but I doubt it. He wasn't too fond of Mike, and he didn't frequent the bar that I know of. The only way he'd be present was if he were dating someone that was invited."

The sheriff raised his eyebrows. "Like Louise."

"Hell, I never thought of that!" Mike said.

"We'll call down to the Frisco police department and see what the story is on this guy Worthington," Sheriff Biggs said. "Do you have any idea how to contact Louise's family, Mike?"

"No, not unless I drive back to the city and look up her employment records," he said.

"That's okay. She had one of those evening bags, not much information in it, but enough so we can check her out on the computer."

Mike had come to stand behind Victoria's chair. He placed his hands gently on her shoulders. She looked up at him, feeling better just by his touch. She gave him a slight smile then looked at the sheriff. "That's a strange feeling, everything's on computer now. There aren't many secrets left."

"Sometimes, like locating the family of a deceased, that's very helpful. Other times, it's like big brother watching you," Sheriff Biggs reflected somberly.

The deputy came to the kitchen door and asked to speak to the sheriff, alone.

Victoria stood and Mike put his arm around her. "Is this nightmare ever going to be over?" she asked, leaning her head on his shoulder. Mike's arm felt warm and reassuring, but there was a knife wielding murderer on the loose. The knife that had been dropped at her back door proved that this person had targeted her also. Perhaps this was the last they would ever hear of him. But Victoria had an awful premonition that she would not be out of danger until this person was caught.

"For all our sakes, I hope they catch this guy, and soon," Mike managed to say as he held Victoria close, trying to comfort her as he would a child. He then led her to the living room.

Mrs. Bell and his mother sat on the couch. His father and Mr. Bell stood by the fireplace. "I, we can't get over this happening here," Mr. LaRossa said. Everyone nodded their heads in agreement.

"Dad, we want to stay here in case the police need to ask us anymore questions later. Is it okay if we spend the night?" Mike asked.

"Sure, son, you know it is. Your old bedroom is all gussied up and vacant as the day you moved to the city," his mother offered.

"We can stay if you like, Tory," Mrs. Bell said.

"No, it's okay. I'll be all right with Michael and his folks, Mom, Dad." Victoria hugged her parents. "Why don't you two go on home? I'll call you tomorrow."

They looked at her gratefully. "We could use some shuteye, what with all this excitement. And the police said it would be all right for us to leave. It sure will be good to get home to our own bed. Dad and I are so terribly sorry about your friend. It's so frightening, Tory." Mrs. Bell paused, "But enough of this. We've already worked out most of the wedding details." She asked, "I guess there's still going to be a wedding?"

"We sure hope so!" Victoria and Mike chimed in together.

"That's right, you young folks will just have to put this awful business out of your minds and go on with your plans," Mrs. LaRossa suggested warmly.

At that moment, the deputy called urgently from the door, "Mike, we need you out here in the kitchen."

"Moose?" Mike said softly, in disbelief. The big man was standing in the middle of the kitchen with handcuffs on. He looked to be in distress and confusion.

Sheriff Biggs stated, "Moose said it was all his fault when we questioned him, but we can't get a coherent story out of him. Do you know him well, Mike?" he asked.

Mike went to stand beside Moose. "He was a boxer for too long, Sheriff. His mind just doesn't work the same anymore. He's been my friend for years, and occasionally he works for me, moving kegs. His hands are lethal weapons, if he wanted to kill someone, but to my knowledge, he's never hurt anyone intentionally. I can't imagine him stabbing anyone in the back," Mike said. "Besides, in spite of his size, he's a gentle man."

"Maybe you can make some sense out of his story." The sheriff stood directly in front of the big man and asked questions slowly hoping Moose would have a better understanding of the question. "Moose, can you tell your friend, Mike, what happened?"

Moose looked at Mike with grief stricken eyes. "Mike, Louise is dead."

Mike touched Moose's arm. "Yes, I know, buddy. Can you tell me what happened?" he asked.

"I watch Louise, I watch Tory."

Mike started at the statement about Victoria. "What do you mean, you watch them, Moose."

Moose's eyes never left Mike's. "I watch Louise, she die anyway. I did bad..." Moose's voice trailed off into the fog he lived in. Mike was facing Moose, getting ready to ask him another question when the sheriff interrupted.

"Do you know anything about him watching Miss Bell?"

Mike was still facing Moose, watching to see if his friend would respond to the sheriff's question. Moose didn't bat an eye. Mike struggled with the knowledge that what he could tell the police would certainly put Moose in a bad light. On the other hand, if Moose did murder Louise, what was to stop him from murdering Victoria?

The sheriff repeated his question.

Mike shrugged his shoulders and went to pour himself some coffee. "Tory thought she saw Moose outside the back door of her apartment building, watching from across the street. But she couldn't be sure. We thought it was just an odd coincidence."

The deputy had been taking the notes this time and now he asked, "Is there anything else you can think of, maybe something else odd that might give us a lead in the case?"

"No." Even though Mike knew Anthony Derofert had been at the party with Della, he had seen Della alone when he and Victoria were ready to leave for their walk. He was not one hundred per cent sure about the doctor and his intentions with his head waitress. But there wasn't anything definite to tell the deputy. That brought another thought to his mind--Victoria's late night caller. Mike mentally told himself that he would not bring up the would-be intruder who dropped the knife at Victoria's back door. Maybe later, if he could get Moose to tell him what actually happened.

"We're going to have to take Moose in for questioning," Sheriff Biggs announced, then turned to his deputy. "Tom, did you find anyone at the party by the name of Robert Worthington?"

The deputy looked at his notes. "No," he answered.

Moose stiffened.

Mike was watching his friend's reaction. "Moose, what is it?" Mike put his cup down and went to Moose's side. "Is there anything you want to tell us?"

"He not nice man, Mike. He very rude to you and Tory. I watch him..." Moose trailed off again.

Mike placed both of his hands on each side of Moose's arms. "Watch who? When?" he asked, just short of shaking his friend.

"I very tired. Sleep now." With that, Moose dozed off on his feet into his own private dream land, only there was still great sadness on his face.

Mike went to the table and sat down. "I've always wished that I could sleep on my feet like Moose does," he said.

"You mean this guy is actually asleep?" the sheriff asked, coming to inspect Moose. The deputy was also staring at the big man.

"Or close to it. He can just doze off at will. He may stay like that for long periods, and then he wakes up like nothing happened."

Sheriff Biggs walked around Moose, studying his face carefully. "I've never seen anything like this. He's standing straight as a rod."

"What happens if you wake him?" the deputy asked.

"If you've noticed Moose's size, you must realize that I've never tried to wake him." Mike explained, "I'd hate to startle him in my establishment with all the glassware around."

"I can see your point, Mike," the sheriff said, "but this sleep routine is not helping our investigation."

The deputy ventured, "You think maybe he went into one of these trances and killed that woman, Louise, without being aware of what he was doing?"

Sheriff Biggs looked at Moose, puzzled. "That's a good question, Tom, but I think we're going to have to call in a police psychiatrist to figure this one out."

The deputy said, "Kind of reminds you of a statue, doesn't he? What happens when you're working and he gets tired like this, Mike?"

Mike was used to Moose's strange ways, so he answered, "We just work around him very carefully, but it doesn't happen that often. Like I said, you don't want to disturb somebody like Moose."

"Did he like the girls, or what?"

Mike laughed. "Actually, Tom, the only interest he showed in women was pinching their bottoms...gently, though. It is typical of his present childish state of mind. He seems to get a big kick out of it, pinching my waitresses. Even before he got like this, he was always a gentleman around the ladies."

"I know this guy is your friend, Mike, but murderers don't always fit the role. Some of the people you would least suspect are capable of murder," the sheriff said.

"Up here, we don't get that many murders, do we, Tom? But the ones we do get would sometimes surprise the hell out of you."

The sheriff's words shook Mike. He could not fathom Moose as a killer, but...?

The sheriff asked to use the telephone and called in a request for a psychiatrist early in the morning to examine Moose. As he came back into the kitchen, the big guy stirred and yawned, still standing stiff as a board in the middle of the room.

"We have to make a little trip, Moose. Are you awake enough to come with us now?" Sheriff Biggs asked kindly.

Mike saw that Moose was motionless as the deputy put his arms behind his back and placed on the handcuffs. "You know the one thing that doesn't make sense about all this, Sheriff, is Louise may have been dating the man that knifed her to death. Moose has not dated anyone that I know of since he got hurt in the ring some five, six years ago," he said.

"You may have a point, Mike. I hope for your friend's sake that you're right."

Tom asked, "What about Louise? Could she have been dating Moose just for companionship? Maybe he wanted more and turned on her? That happens, too, you know." Mike shook his head. "Louise and I dated a time or two. She is, or rather was, a very sweet, pretty girl. She had no trouble finding dates, but anything is possible."

Moose was silent since waking. He appeared to be listening intently to the conversation around him. Mike could tell from the expression on Moose's face that he was trying to get some idea of what was going on. He looked at Mike.

"I go with these men?" Moose asked at last, blinking in the harsh kitchen lights.

Mike patted Moose's shoulder. "Yes, buddy, you've got to go with these men and do what they tell you. Everything's going to be okay." He added under his breath, "I hope."

Sheriff Biggs and Tom led Moose out the kitchen door and drove off. Mike turned off the lights and went into the living room to find that everyone had gone to bed or left. He climbed the stairs to his old bedroom to find his fiancee sound asleep in his bed. His parents were not as

old-fashioned as her's, and they had shown Victoria to his room, guessing that they were probably already lovers. If not, Mike was no stranger to the house and he could find himself another bed.

In spite of his bone-weariness, Mike smiled at the sight of Victoria's sweet sleeping form curled up on the sheets. His future wife was the picture of contentment, except for some tear stains on her rosy cheeks. He changed into pajama bottoms and climbed into bed beside her, being careful not to disturb her slumber. He laid there only an instant before he drifted off into troubled dreams of running through an endless forest, chasing some barely visible form, but he knew beyond a doubt that the shadow figure was the murderer.

SAN FRANCISCO LADY - PAT SMITH

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Mike came downstairs early the next morning to take a telephone call. The sheriff needed him at the station to assist when the psychiatrist came to question Moose. He yawned and stretched as he got into his truck to leave the ranch. Some of the sheriff's men were walking the area behind the barn, searching for evidence. Why did this madman have to haunt him and Tory even here at his parent's home? Cruising into town, he spied the police station which was a small older brick building which stood behind a large oak tree in the center of town square. Except for occasional occupants, usually a Saturday night drunk, the cells stayed fairly empty.

Mike saw sunlight streaming into the small cell marred by the dark shadows of the bars. It looked as if Moose had spent an uncomfortable evening on some blankets wadded up on the floor. Now he sat wearily upon the lone chair in a corner. Evidently the bunks were way too small for his gigantic form.

Moose rose and rubbed his eyes then stumbled over to the small sink to get a cup of water. He turned, saw Mike and bellowed pathetically, "I don't like this place. Please let Moose out!"

"Mr. Moose, settle down now, the doc will be here in just a few minutes and after you and he talk, we either have to book you or let you go," said one of the deputies, trying to calm the big man down.

"Moose, it's okay. I'm here and I'm staying with you at least until the psychiatrist gets through questioning you," Mike said.

Moose began pacing the tiny cell with a haunted look on his face.

"Sheriff Biggs is going over the evidence with the coroner. He'll be here later," the deputy said. "Since you're here, Mike, I think I'll run across the street and bring back some breakfast. He'll be okay with you here and the other deputy up front."

While the deputy was gone, Mike tried to calm Moose down and prepare him for more questions. About five minutes later the officer came back with scrambled eggs, toast, hash browns, bacon, sausage, and a large bowl of oatmeal.

"Snack, you bring Moose a snack. Nice deputy." Moose took the food eagerly and began devouring it with such gusto that Mike feared he might choke. It all disappeared rapidly down Moose's gaping maw.

"Amazing! No wonder you don't think about women, you don't have time. Just eating must keep you busy, Mr. Moose," the deputy remarked.

Moose burped loudly and smiled back at him, "Good grub!"

About that time a man in a dark suit entered the front door. The deputy let him in gratefully, and introduced Mike.

"Sure glad you came, Doctor Hoffmeyer. Taking care of this big guy has me a might nervous," the deputy said.

Doctor Hoffmeyer took in the situation, "Keeping a person of his size in custody would make anybody edgy, deputy. The charge is murder?"

"We haven't charged him yet. We don't have any evidence or motive, only some statements he made which may or may not incriminate him. That's why we got you down here. We need to find out what his statements mean and if you think he's capable of murder?"

"It's going to be difficult to question him in this small cell. I need a more roomy, relaxing setting to put him at ease."

"Suit yourself, Doc. But if he did knife that girl in the back, he may be extremely dangerous."

Mike decided that he needed to put in a good word for his friend. "Don't worry, Doctor Hoffmeyer, Moose is a good friend of mine, he works for me part time and I can’t believe that he would ever knife anyone under any circumstance."

The deputy took his keys and opened the jail cell, motioning for Moose to leave. Moose asked what they wanted of him, and gradually a smile of understanding spread across his face and he left the cell and followed Mike and Doctor Hoffmeyer into the roomier office.

"Moose, sit down in the chair and relax," Mike advised.

Moose looked at the chair and then back at Mike before sitting down behind the sheriff's desk. Mike leaned against the wall by the door.

Doctor Hoffmeyer quickly read the sheriff's report of Moose's arrest. He had chosen the smaller chair in front of Moose, and he spread out his notebook on the corner of the desk. He was a stout man in his early fifties, neatly dressed in a black suit. Mike observed the doctor watching Moose closely.

"You made some statements about the murder last night. Can you tell me in your own words what you know about it? I'm here to help in any way I can." The doctor spoke in soothing tones.

"I watch, but she die," said Moose. He appeared puzzled, distressed.

"Did you see the young lady die?" Doctor Hoffmeyer asked hastily.

"No."

"When did you watch her, Moose?"

Mike could see Moose struggle with thoughts before he answered, "I watch Louise come to the party."

"Did she come with someone?"

Moose hesitated. "I...I don't know."

"Did you think she might be with someone in particular?"

"She have boyfriend, Doctor, but nobody knew about him." Moose glanced at Mike. "Louise kept him a secret, even from Mike."

"Mike is your boss, also he was Louise's boss?"

A smile leaped to Moose's face. "Yes, Doctor, Mike is good boss."

"Were you jealous of Louise's boyfriend, Moose?"

For a moment Moose looked baffled. "No, no, I like Louise as friend."

Mike shifted on his feet, thinking so far Moose was making perfect sense. He may be slow, but otherwise on track.

Doctor Hoffmeyer questioned, "Why were you watching Louise if she was just a friend, Moose?"

Moose looked into space for awhile as if the answer to the doctor's question floated on the ceiling.

"Long time ago...." Moose paused, and Mike wondered if he were preparing to tell the story of Cinderella or some other classic tale.

"I, uh, person murdered. Blond lady who came to bar and knew Tory."

"Tory? That would be Victoria Bell, Mike's fiancee?" asked Doctor Hoffmeyer.

"Yes, that's her." There was an excited expression on Moose's face. "Do you know Tory too, Doctor?"

"No, I've never had the pleasure, but the sheriff filled me in on who was at the party, and that it was Mike's engagement celebration," the doctor said, smiling at Mike. "Please go on, Moose," Doctor Hoffmeyer leaned back in his chair.

"Blond lady murdered by a knife, I read in the papers. Then someone frightened Tory and a knife was dropped at her back door. I was scared, Doctor."

The big man looked at Doctor Hoffmeyer with such bewilderment that Mike had to suppress a laugh at the thought of Moose having to be afraid of anyone. Of course, guns or knives are great levelers.

"Not for me, for Tory, and then when Louise's boyfriend hit her, I became afraid for Louise, too."

"I see your point, Moose," the doctor reassured him.

"I watch, not all the time, but I watch Louise and Tory when I can, just to be sure they are safe."

"That's very admirable of you, Moose," Doctor Hoffmeyer said. He looked at the notebook. "Now tell me about your sleeping spells."

"Sometimes, when I get tired, I sleep. Wherever I am, I sleep. It feels like I just can't move anymore. Do you feel that way sometimes, Doctor?" Moose looked up at Doctor Hoffmeyer, questioning him earnestly.

The doctor nodded his head. "I understand, Moose. I, too, feel extremely tired at times, but most of us are unable to fall asleep on our feet, so to speak. I believe the brain damage you sustained, because of the years spent boxing, has reduced you to a more child-like state where instantaneous sleep is possible," he explained.

"Yes, I sleep when I get tired," the big man commented.

There was a tap at the door, and Mike opened it quietly. The deputy came in, bringing coffee and doughnuts.

Mike walked to the desk with the sack, taking a cup out of the bag. "Thank you, Mike." The doctor took the coffee, then helped himself to a doughnut.

Mike turned to Moose, offering him the same. Moose took some coffee and several doughnuts, but he ate more slowly now.

As Mike went back to stand by the door, he felt that the questioning was about over and his friend would be dismissed as a harmless giant of the jolly green variety, when Doctor Hoffmeyer asked, "Moose, were you any good in the ring? I don't know a lot about boxing, so I don't know anything about your sport."

A dark menacing look came over Moose's face and he slammed his mighty fist on the desk with such force that the desk shook, spilling hot coffee everywhere. Tom and Mike hurried to clean up the mess while Moose answered,

"I was good, Doctor, very good in ring." There was a look of pride in Moose's eyes, and Mike knew that they were seeing a whole other side of his friend.

The doctor's face showed no emotion and he said in a quiet tone, "Why did you quit, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I kill two men. I was good, Doctor, maybe too good. So I quit, then too, they want me to quit. The boxing commission said that I no longer knew when to stop."

This was a chilling declaration. Mike knew the doctor could not ignore Moose's admission. Still there seemed to be no motive for murder, and no confession.

"Call the sheriff, Deputy, and tell him I'm finished questioning Moose for the time being," Doctor Hoffmeyer said. He folded the notebook and stood. "Tell him I've found nothing conclusive." He turned off his tape recorder. "I'll send a copy of this to the sheriff after I get it typed up."

Doctor Hoffmeyer shook hands with Moose, the deputy and Mike before leaving, telling them to keep in touch with any new developments on the case. Mike watched him climb into his car and disappear down the road toward the city.

Mike's face broke into a relieved smile. "Moose, Doctor Hoffmeyer is through, and I'm sure they're not going to book you. Tom is going to give you a lift back to town."

Moose sat in the patrol car with the seat pushed back as far as possible. He fit, but just barely. There was a big grin on his face. Tom started the motor and pulled out on the county highway heading for San Francisco. Mike watched them go and went back to his truck to head for home. He breathed in the cool fresh air. It was a little chilly. Winter would soon be closing in on them. California-style winter with cool nights and sunny warm afternoons.

Victoria woke late in the morning to see Mike standing over her.

"Wake up, honey," he admonished her gently, leaning over to give her a kiss. "I just got back from town. They needed me to keep the deputy company while a psychiatrist questioned Moose." Mike kissed her neck. "He passed with flying colors, and they released him," he whispered in her ear.

Victoria rolled over and put her arms around Mike's neck. "Well, I'm glad Moose didn't turn out to be a murderer. I just wish they'd find out who did these dreadful murders before any more take place...like mine," she remarked dryly.

"Don't even joke about that, Tory!"

"I'm not exactly joking, Michael. I'm really sort of scared."

He kissed her soundly on the mouth and helped her to sit up. "I know, honey. But I'm sure the sheriff is doing all he can to locate this maniac. But there were a whole lot of people here last night and it's going to take time to check them all out."

Victoria yawned and stretched. "I suppose you're right, Michael."

"Mom's cooking our breakfast so you'd better get dressed, sleepyhead." She realized he had changed the subject to cheer her up.

"I can smell that delicious bacon and coffee aroma up here. Let me at the shower first, please."

"It's all yours, gorgeous!"

After a quick kiss, Victoria jumped off the bed, grabbing a fresh towel and wash cloth off the dresser. She waltzed into the shower stall, leaving Mike to wait. He was stretched out on the bed.

Just a few more weeks and he would be all hers, Victoria daydreamed as she stepped into the steamy water. She could hardly wait until a wedding ring rested on Mike's finger. Would she ever have her fill of him? Just the sight of Michael was like an aphrodisiac. His tanned muscular arms encircling her made her feel so intensely alive. As long as they were together, she was sure it would be perpetual spring. She shook her head and let the fine spray soak her hair and run down her back.

Then the murder drifted into her mind like a cold veil. It was too much of a coincidence, Yvette's murder and now Louise's. The police would be checking this out, but what about the knife on her backdoor step?

"I have to stop thinking this way. Fear will only make us less effective. I have to keep a cool head for Michael's sake," she scolded herself.

At last Victoria drifted out of the shower draped in a fresh clean towel and motioned for Mike to have his turn. She looked at him longingly, realizing that there was just no time for other considerations now.

Victoria quickly dressed and applied some powder and a dash of lipstick. She carefully made the bed and laid the towels over the door rack to dry. Giving the room a

once over to make sure it was in order, she walked downstairs to join Mike's parents.

"Tory, dear, did you sleep well?"

"Yes, thank you, Mrs. LaRossa, the bed's very comfortable and the room is lovely."

"We're so sorry about last night--"

"Don't even say it, Mr. LaRossa," Victoria interrupted. "It was one of those terrible things that happen and no one is ever ready for."

"Mike went to the station earlier, have they found out anything yet?" Mrs. LaRossa asked impatiently.

"No, but I wish they'd find out something soon." There was pain in Victoria's eyes and she turned away while a tear slid down her cheek. The tear was not only for Louise, but for herself, also.

"Enough of this, my dear, let's have some coffee and think of more pleasant things." Mr. LaRossa hurried them into the dining room.

Mike came tumbling down the stairs as if on cue, his damp curls lying against his neck. When he came within reach, Victoria could not control the urge to playfully twirl one curl around her finger as she whispered "good morning" into his ear. Mike held her close with one arm as they made their way to the table.

Mrs. LaRossa smiled in her motherly way. "Look at them, Dad, I'm so happy for our boy."

"Yes, takes me back a few years myself." Mr. LaRossa winked at his wife.

"You can stay with us, dear, until the wedding. There's no need for you to go back to the city," Mrs. LaRossa invited her protectively.

"You don't understand, Mrs. LaRossa. This killer was here at the farm. He could be anywhere. Mike has a business to run, and I just can't hide out here. I may be hiding the rest of my life. Who knows, this may be the last we ever hear of this guy. But you can bet that I'll be on guard and very careful for a long time to come." Victoria looked nervously around the room. Mrs. LaRossa brought in breakfast with Victoria's help and soon they were eating and talking about the horses, the bar, everything but the murder. They all relaxed in the reassuring light of day and it was business as usual on the farm. Victoria helped Mrs. LaRossa cleanup the kitchen, and Mike lent his father a hand with the chores.

Around ten, some women came from town that Mrs. LaRossa had hired to help clean up after the party. As the cleanup crew was arriving, the patrol cars were pulling away. Victoria wondered if the sheriff's men had found something, anything that would lead to the murderer and end this dreadful nightmare.

After the farm and household duties were completed, Mike led Victoria down to the pasture gate to look at the horses.

Mike pointed out his favorite quarter horse with pride. "That's Sugar, she's my mare and one sweet ride. Can you handle yourself on a horse, Tory?"

"I've been riding a time or two, Mr. LaRossa," she replied smartly. "How's about we saddle a couple of these beauties and take them for a test drive? Do you think it would be all right to ride? I mean we wouldn't be destroying evidence or anything, would we?"

"You're on, honey. The police left and I'm sure it's okay now, or they'd have said something. We'll ride out across the pasture away from the woods." Pointing to some horses, Mike asked, "Any preference?"

"I prefer a mount that's at least green broke, and a neck-reining pony is really more my speed."

"Sure thing." Mike sprang off the fence and, taking a couple of bridles off the gate, skillfully began cutting Sugar and a gelding from the herd. He then led the two horses from the pasture.

Victoria opened the gate, and Mike led the horses to the barn. He took down the saddles and a couple of blankets and had them saddled in no time. Then he led the two large Morgan quarter horses outside and tied them to the fence so he could give Victoria a leg up.

"These horses are beautiful, Michael!" she exclaimed as she mounted the sleek bay gelding.

"You'll have to keep a tight rein on him, Tory. These horses are well-fed and have a lot of spirit. Morgans are bred for the quarter-mile race and they also make excellent cutting horses for cattle, but they can get away from you if you aren't careful."

Her horse sprinted ahead of his out the long drive that wound gracefully around the hillside up to the farm house. She yelled over her shoulder, "I see what you mean."

Mike caught up with her and she held her mount to a slow gallop.

"We can take them to the clover field. The clover is a late crop my dad put in to replace nitrogen in the soil. We use it for feed for the horses. They love the sweet grass so they won't run too far without stopping for a mouthful," Mike said. "Besides, it smells great."

She nodded her head and said, "Let's go for it, Michael."

Mike and Victoria trotted their horses down the road and then out across the pasture where Mike's father kept some Hereford beef cattle. The cattle were grazing peacefully and barely lifted their heads as Mike and Victoria rode by. Mike dismounted and opened the gate to let Victoria go through. She rode past him and then gave her horse a sharp kick with her heels, urging him to a full gallop across the gentle sloping hills.

"Trying to beat me, huh?" Mike yelled.

Recklessly, she thundered across the sweet smelling fields until at last the horse slowed, having vented a burst of energy. She dismounted and let the reins down so her horse could enjoy a few mouthfuls of clover.

Mike caught up with Victoria and dismounted, putting his arm around her waist. "You're quite a rider, Victoria Bell."

She laughed. "You're no slouch yourself, Michael."

"I really thought it was too much to ask for..." He caught his breath, and continued. "A wife who can ride, too."

"My riding ability is just fine, thank you. Unfortunately, my cooking skills lag somewhat behind your appetite, Michael," she confessed.

"No problem, Tory, I like to cook...at least some things."

Suddenly Mike pushed Victoria, flapping the reins. The horses backed up, startled. A look of panic crept into her eyes. Fear was lurking in her heart.

"Bumble bee!" he explained as he chased the angry insect away.

She ducked. "Ooo, I hate bees."

"That's one of the drawbacks to the clover fields, the bees love them. Of course, we have to have bees on the ranch for pollination," he stated. He drew her close and put his arms around her waist. "I didn't mean to frighten you, honey."

She felt so safe in his embrace. "I know you didn't. Everything that has happened has left me sort of spooky. Those bees can pollinate all they want, just so they don't sting me." Victoria looked into his eyes, feeling a yearning that was hard to describe. "It's beautiful out here, Michael, and so peaceful."

"Yes, honey, the ranch is my quiet place," he said, looking up at the expanse of blue sky overhead.

She put her arms around his neck and welcomed the slow passionate kiss he gave her which turned her insides to jelly. "Wanting you is this awful disease I've contracted, Michael LaRossa, and it just gets worse by the minute," she confessed.

Mike shook his handsome head. "I know exactly what you mean, Tory. I can't seem to get enough of you."

He nuzzled the side of her neck, causing chills to course down her spine. Her body curved hard against his jeans, and she could feel the swell of his manhood. She kissed him, her mouth open to the fullness of his tongue.

Before she let her passion run wild, she gently broke free from his embrace. "Michael...Michael," she murmured. She breathed deeply, trying to regain her composure. She glanced at him and noticed that his face was flushed, and from his rugged breathing, he was obviously having the same struggle against rising emotions as she was. "We had better get back or your parents may think the worst because of last night," she said, and extended her hand to him. He grinned, nodded his head, and they walked back to the horses.

Mike helped her mount and they rode at a sedate pace back across the fields, enjoying the clear blue fall sky. The wonderful leather-scent of the saddle filled her nostrils. She felt at home and at peace once again. The horrible experience of the night before relaxed its grip on her.

To Victoria's disappointment, the day was ending and Mike informed her it was time to head back to the city. The sheriff had called and they were no closer to the answer of who the murderer was. They had gone over the scene of the crime with a fine-tooth comb, but the leafy ground had not yielded any clear footprints. There had been so many people present that no one remembered seeing Louise and a boyfriend.

Victoria hated to leave. Mike's parents were such warm caring people. The farm was fun, her kind of relaxation. Even the fact of Louise's murder did not dampen Victoria's enthusiasm for the place. But she knew it was time to return, no matter how reluctantly.

"Mom, Dad, thanks for everything!" Mike said as he held the car door open for Victoria.

"Yes, it has been such a great visit...today," Victoria added hastily.

"Be careful, children," Mrs. LaRossa called out as they drove off.

Mike gave Victoria's knee a squeeze, then put the truck in gear. As they sped along Mike said, "Tory, I have to spend each night with you until the wedding. I'll be perfectly happy on the couch, but I can't leave you alone."

"I'm not a baby. Besides, what would my parents say?

"If you asked them, I bet under the circumstances, they'd say yes," Mike said steadily.

Victoria screwed up her face. "You don't know my mother that well."

"Tory, please be reasonable about this!"

"I am being reasonable, you're the one who is making an unreasonable demand," she ended hurriedly. "It's getting too close to the wedding and they'll be popping in and out every other day."

"Just like a woman, you are being so stubborn!" he said under his breath.

"But you love me anyway," she teased him back.

"Okay, but call me or 911 or the police or run out of the apartment screaming at the first sign of trouble. Don't wait for answers, just go."

"Sounds like good advice, Mr. LaRossa."

"I'm glad you agree with something I say," he said, putting his arm around her and pulling her close.

"Actually, I agree with most things you say, Michael," she said in her most charming way and kissed his cheek.

Chapter Fifteen

Tory closed the door behind her after shooing Mike home to his apartment. They were both tired and she had a lot of last minute wedding details to attend to in the morning. It was getting late when the ringing of the phone brought her sharply to life.

"Hello."

"Tory, it’s me, Della. Can I come over and talk to you. I hate to bother you after all you’ve been through this weekend but I’m confused and it’s important."

"Sure, I’m a little tired myself, but for you, girl, come on over." Victoria put down the phone and sighed. She was really thinking of bed and her pillow but she decided to take a shower and put on some lounging pajamas and make hot chocolate. It would be relaxing to talk to Della and get her mind off the horrible events of the past few days. The hot chocolate was bubbling on the stove when the doorbell rang.

"Della?"

"It’s me."

Victoria opened the door and stood back to let her in.

"Thanks for letting me come over, Tory. I am just about to explode." Della looked anxious as she hurried in and began pacing the room.

"What’s up?" Victoria studied her friend with concern. Victoria walked into the kitchen and poured the hot chocolate and offered Della a cup in order to urge her friend to sit down and stop pacing.

"Anthony has to take Hector’s tonsils out." Della blurted out as she sat down sloshing hot chocolate out of the cup and into the saucer. She bent down to take a sip and looked at Tory expectantly.

"He is young enough that the operation should be relatively simple. I had my tonsils out when I was six." Victoria offered with a reassuring smile.

"It’s not exactly the surgery that I am worried about."

"What do you mean, Della."

"Sometimes I feel like Anthony’s temper is about to reach boiling with Hector. You know kids, they can drive you up the wall and I’ve had years of on-the-job training to get used to Hector."

Victoria looked at Della with alarm. "I dated Anthony briefly, I can’t believe I’m hearing what you said." Surely Della was being overprotective as mothers are prone to do Victoria thought to herself..

"I don’t know? See, I realize that men act differently around children then women do. Maybe this is all in my mind." Della looked hopelessly at Tory. "But there are other problems."

"More?" Victoria was aghast.

"No, this is not Anthony, this is me."

"Oh?"

"He is so great, Tory. You just don’t know how much I love him."

"Della, all anyone has to do is see your face light up when Anthony enters the room."

"But I am a good waitress." Her dark eyes had circles under them and a frown furrowed her forehead.

"You are a killer waitress. Mike could not have gotten the bar off ground zero without you, Della." Tory knew Della needed confirmation of her usefulness and competence.

Della relaxed a little, the worry lines softened in her face.

"Anthony’s mom, Mrs. Derofert, she is nothing like me but if we get married, not that he will ask, but that is what she will expect from me. That I will be like her. I could never be a high brow spending all my time going to dinner parties and the like."

"Della, it seems to me that Anthony wants someone like you. When I dated him, he made it plain that he preferred the working class to the elite."

"But I can’t be Mike’s waitress anymore, Tory. Get real. I will have to be the wife of Dr. Derofert and that will take a certain amount of time and energy."

"Probably more than you know, Della. Now Anthony just attends social events with other people, but when you two are married, you will have to give dinner parties."

Della sat up straighter, her dark eyes brightened. "I could do that, plan and fix a dinner party. My mom taught me how to cook, it’s just that I don’t get to do a whole lot of the cooking because we live with her. Of course the food would have to be a lot different. Still there’s cook books and things like that."

"You could pull if off, Della. I have faith in you." Victoria thought to herself that she was only offering her friend a Band-Aid. Adjusting to life as a surgeon’s wife from a barmaid was going to be a difficult transition. "When is Hector’s surgery going to take place?"

"Tomorrow morning at six am. Ohhh, I have to get home right now so I can get Hector to surgery on time." Della looked at her watch in disbelief.

"Can I come and help out tomorrow?" Tory asked, concerned.

"No, kid, thanks, but mom and I will have it covered."

"If you’re sure, Della, try not to worry too much." Tory gave Della a quick hug.

"I don’t have time to worry, I’ve got to get some sleep. Goodnight, Tory and thanks for listening. By the way, what is happening with the murder investigation?"

"Nothing much is happening yet. They never caught Yvette’s murderer and now Louise. It is just too scary to think about, Della. I am trying to block all of this out of my mind and just get on with my life. I can’t live looking over my shoulder all the time."

"I know, Tory, it’s rough." Della gave Tory a quick hug, grabbed her purse and rushed out the door.

"Poor Della, she has so much on her mind." Victoria murmured as she turned out the lights and walked into the bedroom brushing out her long auburn curls.

* * * *

The next day at seven a.m. Della walked beside the cart holding Hector’s hand as the attendants wheeled him down the hall. There were tears in her tired brown eyes, but a brave grin on her face as she tried to bolster the little boy’s spirit.

"Anthony says I’ll have a really sore throat."

"He should know, he takes out tonsils everyday."

"I’ll get ice cream and jello as much as I want when I wake up." His voice was just a trifle strained as he tried to be brave. The cart stopped and Anthony greeted them outside the doors to the operating room.

"This is Dr. Henning, Della, he will perform the actual surgery: I am just here assisting today." Anthony introduced the surgeon standing beside him.

"Oh." Della gasped with surprise. She had some doubts about Anthony but she still had expected him to be the one doing the surgery.

"He is one of the best." Anthony hastened to reassure Della.

"Oh, I believe that, I was just expecting you to perform the surgery."

"Technically Hector and I are not related in any way yet, but I am just being overly cautious here." Anthony tried to explain his reluctance to do the surgery himself.

"Whatever you think, Anthony. I’ll abide by your decision."

"It’s time, everything will be fine, Della. Hector, see you inside." Anthony lowered his mask and stood back as the surgery doors swung open and Hector was wheeled inside.

Della walked back down the hall with an ache in her heart and tears in her eyes. It was so hard to leave her baby even in the hands of two capable surgeons. She was relieved when she entered the waiting room and Tory was there.

"Come on, Della, I’ll get you some coffee."

"Okay, can we stop by the chapel and say a little prayer on the way?"

"Sure, Honey, that’s the best idea." Tory put a comforting arm on Della’s shoulder as they walked down the hall together. They stopped at the chapel door and went inside. Stained glass windows reflected colored light on the pews and Della sat beside Tory and picked up the Bible in the seat.

"I can always find something in here to comfort me in times of trouble, Tory." Della said as she opened the time-worn pages.

"Me too, Della." Victoria said with her head bowed whispering a silent prayer for Hector and Della and Anthony.

"Where is your mom?"

"She was so nervous that I asked her to wait until later to come; I was afraid she was going to make Hector get all upset. She is really superstitious, and I think she does a lot of unnecessary worrying." Della explained matter of factly.

"Older mothers and grandmothers tend to be that way." Tory agreed thinking of her own mom.

* * * *

Anthony stood calmly by as Dr. Henning took the scalpel in his capable hands and prepared to excise the greatly-enlarged tonsils. Everything looked good and the operation continued as planned but then the unexpected overtook them, a hemorrhage began surging and Anthony applied pressure and packing as needed while they fought wordlessly to stop the bleeding.

"My God, where did that come from?" Anthony exclaimed.

"The blood work looked okay, must be hereditary." Dr. Henning answered calmly.

Anthony felt anything but calm, his hands were shaking as he eased up pressure on the blood-soaked packing.

"Thank God, it’s over." Anthony gave a sigh of relief.

"You really care about this little guy, Anthony."

"Yes, I do, Karl." Anthony beamed. He had never felt more a part of Hector’s life. If he and Della were to marry, he had wondered what kind of father he might make, but he was beginning to feel okay about it.

Getting cleaned up, he wondered how to tell Della about what had happened. It was not going to be easy.

"Anthony, if you don’t mind, I’d like to tell the boy’s mother about the problems we had today."

* * * *

"Suit yourself, Karl." Anthony thought maybe it would be better for Della to hear it from Dr. Henning.

Della and Tory had returned to the waiting room and found Mrs. Salle sitting stiffly in her seat.

"Is he okay? I waited as long as I could at home, but I just had to be here so I caught the bus. I hope your aren’t upset with me."

"It’s okay, Mom. I understand." Della hugged her mom.

"Miss Salle." Dr. Henning walked up behind Della and her mom.

"Dr. Henning, this is my mother, Mrs. Salle."

"Pleased to meet you. I have to explain some things about the surgery. Would you like to sit down?"

Della looked at him in alarm and she sat down obediently.

"The surgery was a success but we did run into complications. Hector had a hemorrhage that Dr. Derofert and myself stopped with the help of the staff. You need to be aware that if he has any other surgeries in the future, this will be a risk factor. It may be a hereditary problem. Do you or his father have a family history of bleeding?"

"There isn’t anything like that in our family that I know of is there, Mom?"

"No, Della." She shook her head.

"I don’t know anything about Hector’s father or his family. He chose not to be involved

with our son’s life and he has long since disappeared. I chose not to look for him. It was just too painful."

"I understand." Dr. Henning nodded his head.

"Is Hector okay now?" fear filled her eyes as Della faced the doctor.

"I believe so. He will be kept in close observation for the next day or two, Miss Salle."

"Della." Anthony came into the room and crossed to Della’s side and took her in his arms. She melted into his arms and looked up at him expectantly.

"Anthony was really shook up in there, Miss Salle, and I decided to discuss the problems we experienced with you myself." Dr. Henning explained.

"Anthony?"

"Hector is a great kid, Della. I was really afraid in there that we might lose him. That’s why I had Karl do the surgery. I was not sure that I could remain detached if something out of the ordinary developed." Anthony admitted his limitations freely.

Della looked at Anthony with pure adoration. Her first love had cruelly turned his back on her and his son. She had only hoped that Anthony could learn to tolerate Hector and all his boisterous activity. Instead, Anthony seemed to have real feelings for Hector.

"Anthony, I don’t know to tell you how grateful I am to you and Dr. Henning for saving Hector’s life in there today."

"Oh, yes, yes, we are so very grateful to you doctors." Mrs. Salle seconded Della’s statement.

* * * *

Victoria watched the touching scene with joy. She knew Mike had reservations about Anthony and true, there was no ring on Della’s finger, but she had the feeling that in time there would be.

"Hector is in recovery now and because of the bleeding problem, it will be awhile before we take him to his room. If you want to go get a bite to eat and come back in an hour or so." Dr. Henning advised them.

"Sure, come on mom, Tory. We can go down to the coffee shop and get some breakfast." Della paused and gave Anthony a quick peck on the cheek. He grinned and put his hand to his cheek to rub off the lipstick print.

* * * *

Della put on a brave front but Victoria could tell she was shaken by the news of her son’s close call. They walked down the halls and Della paused at the small chapel to go in and say a quick thank you for her boy.
. Tory looked at her watch as they finished lunch. "I hate to do this guys, but I really ought to go home and get ready for work. Mike can’t afford to have both of us off tonight. Let me stop by the gift shop and pick up something that you think Hector would like."

They left the coffee shop and walked down the hall to the gift shop. Tory searched the small room for a suitable present.

"Tory, he would love some colors and a coloring book." Della offered.

"Hum, great idea." Tory reached for the colors. Then she spied the bear, brown with a baseball cap. "I have to get him this bear too, I just have to."

"But that is really too much, Tory. You don’t have to." Della protested.

"I know that but you just don’t understand, I have to get him the bear too. It is just too cute."

"Hector will love the toys, Tory, you are too kind."

"Nah, you can never be too kind to a kid, anyhow that is my own theory." Tory took the purchases to the cashier and then handed the bundles to Della and her mom.

"See you tomorrow, Della, take care of your mom, even when she drives you nuts," Tory said to herself as she bid them farewell, strolling out of the shop.

SAN FRANCISCO LADY - PAT SMITH

Chapter Sixteen

Several days had passed and Hector was home from the hospital. Victoria had gone to visit him before going to work. His dark eyes were shinning as he surveyed the new dazzling red dump truck that she had brought him.

"Anthony is coming to visit us tonight." Della announced, with a smile that told volumes on her face.

"With a patient as lively as Hector, he could hardly stay away." Victoria grinned, thinking of the conversations the two of them would have about Hector’s surgery. She imagined the little boy had asked Anthony every question in the book.

"I was really impressed by the nurses. They did a great job for Hector."

"I think most nurses are wonderful people and those that aren’t are the exception, Della." Victoria agreed. "Have you ever thought of becoming a nurse? The speed you have at Mike’s Place could certainly come in handy at a hospital or doctor’s office."

Della shook her head, a puzzled expression on her face. "I never thought I would have the time or money to go back to school for anything between working and taking care of Hector. But you know, Tory, that is a thought. If Anthony and I make any rash decisions, it would give me a place to fit into his life and make something out of the rest of mine. I have worked all my life and I don’t fancy sitting home and crocheting doilies."

"Well, it’s a thought, Della. I am sure that anything you set your mind to, you would be very good at. I have seen your determination at work."

"I have always heard that the nursing courses are pretty hard. But having a doctor in the family to help you with your studies would be bound to help."

"Yeah, Della, I think having Anthony around would make the whole experience more enjoyable."

"Here we are discussing my marriage to Anthony like it was really going to happen. I have my doubts, even though I really love him."

"There are no sure things in life, Della. Income tax and death not withstanding. But what is life without your dreams?"

"That is what it is, Tory. A beautiful dream that may or may not ever happen." Della lifted her arms in supplication.

"Do I hear sadness in your voice?"

"If we break up, it will take a long time for me to heal." There was a mist in Della’s eyes.

"I know what you mean. If me and Mike broke up, I would never get over it." Tory tossed her red curls and looked straight at Della.

"Never is a long time, kid." The cynical side of Della was talking, Victoria realized. The side that had been terribly hurt when she was pregnant with Hector and his father had deserted her.

"I have never been in love before, Della, and I can’t even imagine life without Mike. When we stopped seeing each other before, I never stopped missing him every single day."

"That’s love."

"Can you stay to supper? Mom is in the kitchen fixing some of her world-famous burritos. Guaranteed a thousand calories an ounce."

"Sounds wonderful, but I’m going to go out for dinner after work with Michael. He is going to take me to some new all-night restaurant he discovered that serves tuna melts."

"Tuna melts - to each his own, Tory. Personally, I prefer burritos any day." Della rolled her eyes heavenwards.

"Do you think that Anthony and you might like to double with Mike and me and have dinner and see a movie sometime?" Victoria asked cautiously, knowing that Anthony might feel less than comfortable around herself and Mike, since they used to date.

"I know that Anthony thought a lot of you, Tory. And I know that he and I started out as a rebound thing. But I really think we have gone beyond that. Speaking for myself, I would love to double with you guys some night. But I’ll run the idea by Anthony and see how he feels. I know he had jealous thoughts towards Mike at one point in time. But Anthony is a pretty reasonable person. I bet he will want to make it a date. If course you know how it is with a doctor. It always depends on what is happening at the hospital." Della walked around the living room, straightening up the sofa pillows and picking up newspapers and magazines and toys while they talked.

"You forget, I dated Anthony before you did and believe me, I know how he is. If a patient needs him, you get stood up every time. Of course I think that is also very admirable of the guy." Victoria rearranged the pillow behind her back as she talked.

"Would you like some iced tea, Tory?"

" Sure, I’d love a glass. Anthony is a very dedicated man. Compulsive you might say. Be aware, Della, that can have it’s good side and also a bad side."

Della walked into the kitchen and came back carrying a glass of tea for Tory.

"Believe me, Tory, I know. Anthony needs some work on his impatience and his temper especially concerning Hector. But I know he really cares about him after the surgery and that awful hemorrhage." Della handed the tea to Tory.

"Humm, this is really good tea." The ice cubes clinked cool and refreshing in her glass topped with a big slice of fresh lemon as she sipped her drink.

"I hate to bring this up, Tory, but what about the latest murder? When I asked you the other night at your apartment, the police didn’t know anything new."

"Still the same story as far as I know. I try not to think that way but it is too close to home. The knife dropped on my doorstep and Yvette and Louise being stabbed to death. I feel that someone is watching me sometimes and I can’t tell if it is my imagination or what. But there is nothing I can do. I have the gun in my bedside table and I try to be aware of my surroundings and the people around me whenever I leave my apartment in case someone is following me. Other than that, I don’t know what to do."

"Poor kid, it just isn’t fair. You are one of the most decent people I know, Tory. Why some weirdo would come after you I can’t even fathom."

"Della, life isn’t always fair. Yvette and Louise seemed like perfectly nice women too. Except I would have argued with Yvette’s choice of men. Why she was smitten with Robert Worthington was beyond me. But there is no accounting for taste in men."

"My thoughts exactly, and why I fell for Hector’s father I’ll never know. But I have a perfectly wonderful son that I would not have had otherwise."

"Life’s blessings sometimes come about in strange ways, Della."

"You can say that again, kid."

Hector came running in from his bedroom making a truck noise, "varoom, varoom" and settled into the corner.

"Hector, I’m glad you like the dump truck I brought you. You have been so busy with your new toy that I haven’t got my hug and it’s time for me to leave."

"Please come back soon, Aunt Tory." Hector reluctantly left his dump truck in the corner of the floor to run up and give her a hug.

"And bring me lots of toys so I can ignore you all evening, right, Hector."

"I’m sorry, Aunt Tory. I really do like you."

"I know, Hector. It’s alright, I was a kid once too. Goodnight, Della, Mrs. Salle. Give my regards to Anthony when he comes."

Arriving at her apartment late that night after work and her dinner with Mike, she fumbled for her key and let herself and Michael in. Then she started at once to check every room. Miss Magic began rubbing against her legs and purring. The fact that the cat seemed quite her usual self and undisturbed felt comforting to Victoria. Finishing her inspection, Victoria made some hot chocolate for herself and Mike. They sat on the sofa to enjoy each other's company. Her apartment was small, but cheerfully decorated with little touches of bright yellow and wicker.

"I can't wait to see what you'll do with our house." Mike grinned at her.

"We're going to have a house?"

"As soon after the honeymoon as possible, we'll go shopping for one," he declared.

"Would you like to redo one of those gorgeous old homes for sale close to the bar?" she asked tentatively. "The Victorian style bay windows where we could plan an atrium."

"Or we could build a new one," he suggested.

"Hmm," she mused and snuggled deeper into the fluffy cushions of the couch. "Decisions, decisions, and I just got through deciding about all the wedding details."

"You did not. Your mother made up your mind on a lot of those things, and I have that on good authority from your father," Mike said smugly.

Victoria laughed. "Yeah, you're right." She finished her drink and got up. "I've decided I've got a major problem with my mother, but she means well."

Taking their cups to the kitchen sink, she looked out the back door. The fog was rolling in, creeping down the back street softly as fog always does. First the buildings across the street were clear and distinct, now they were fading away. Anyone could be out there, she thought, feeling the cold hand of fear tightening its grip on her heart. "I can't let this happen, I can't go through my whole life afraid. I have a gun. I know how to use it," she told herself bravely.

When she came back into the living room, Mike took her in his arms.

"You okay?"

She smiled at him and tried to sound convincing. "I'll be fine, Michael. It's just late, and with everything that's happened..."

He brushed the hair back away from her face, then looked at her with a concerned, searching look. Reaching up, she kissed him softly on the lips. He drew her closer as his hand passed over the curves of her body, firmly, and with an intimate knowledge. She loved the way he made her feel--warm, safe. Relaxing against his strong, muscled chest, she stroked his arms. It was easy to tell he worked hard for his livelihood, lifting cases and barrels. For all his strength, Michael was a gentle and caring man.

"I hate the idea of leaving you here alone," he whispered against her neck. He held her body against his and kissed her deeply with longing.

She was flustered by his kisses. She wanted him to stay, however, it was late and she knew he should leave. Before her resolve crumbled, she pushed him away gently.

"I love you, Michael, only please...go. I'm sure nothing will happen. I'll be fine."

He frowned at her. "Okay, I meant what I said in the truck, Tory. Call me or the police if you even think anything's wrong. Promise?"

"Promise."

She walked him to the door, her arm around his waist. "How about breakfast in the morning?" She loved to eat out for breakfast and have someone serve her hot tea and toast.

He kissed her quickly on the lips. "You're on, honey. But then I'll have to get right to the bar and start stocking. After all, when you leave town for two days, things that need doing stack up."

* * * *

Victoria helped Della wash glasses and set them carefully in the grooved wooden racks over the counter.

"Tory, I'm still so shaken about Louise's murder," Della said quietly.

"Yes, it was terrible. You knew her better than I did. Do you have any idea who she was seeing?" Victoria questioned.

"No, it was so strange, I’ve been thinking about everything that happened. It was unlike Louise to keep secrets. You know how it is with Mike, we are all like one big family here," Della explained.

Victoria placed a glass in the wooden rack then turned to look at Della. "Did I tell you that they held Moose for questioning?"

Della's face showed her surprise. "No! Did they? Well, the big guy has been around a long time and he looks scary, but he's really sort of gentle, if you know what I mean."

Victoria nodded. She understood what Della meant. "Yeah, I think you're right."

Wiping the counter, Della said, "Let's change the subject. How are your wedding plans going, Tory?" Della asked with just a hint of jealousy in her voice.

"Pretty complete, actually," Victoria said distractedly.

"No problems?"

"Well, I wouldn't go that far. My mother has picked out these huge head pieces for the bridesmaids. By the way, Della, would you be my maid of honor?"

"Me? You want me?" Della asked excitedly.

"You. Who else? I don't have any sisters, and I don't want anyone but you."

"Gee, thanks, Tory. I'd be honored." Della blushed. "What about the headpieces?"

"They are huge, big enough for sun bonnets, but Mom insists they are more photogenic that way."

"Can't you just tell her no?" Della asked.

"I have been trying that since I was a kid. My mother does not understand the word no."

"I guess you're stuck with your mother's ideas for your wedding, Tory." Della laughed. "You wimp."

"That's me all right, a wimp. But at least Michael's asking me to help pick out our house, and I'm not even going to let my mother know about the house until after we've bought it."

"You better make that go for the furniture too, Tory."

"I hate my mother's furniture, you know that early gypsy look? She buys everything on sale whether it matches or not. You should see the dusty rose sofa and the orange lounge in the living room. Yuk!"

"Girls, I hate to be rude," Mike interjected as he strolled over to them, "but we have customers coming and tonight is our grand opening of the new dance floor. Our DJ should be here any minute, and the two of you are just standing here gossiping your hearts out. Better hustle, ladies."

"Later, Della," Victoria replied smartly and sauntered away from Mike.

The evening went well, the crowd was quite large as it had been of late. Victoria had the uneasy feeling that someone was watching her. She glanced back at Mike and then looked around the room uneasily.

"What's the matter, honey?" Mike asked. Her expression was gloomy as she came to the bar for a drink order.

"I can't shake the feeling that someone's watching me."

"You mean besides me?" Mike asked without hesitation.

"Not a friendly feeling, Michael," Victoria said exasperated.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad tidings, but you're getting married in a few weeks and if someone has intentions of harming you after we're married, it's going to be a lot harder." Mike looked at her grimly.

"I thought of that." She looked up at him thoughtfully.

"Let me stay with you, Tory. I'm so worried about you, honey." Mike put a reassuring hand on her arm.

"You're probably right, but I just can't with mom and dad hovering over me, Michael." She pushed his hand away gently.

Victoria went back to taking drink orders, but she saw Mike looking into the crowd, trying to spot someone, anyone who might be watching her.

At last the evening was over and Mike drove her home. The fog was already rolling down the streets as they drove. By the time they got to Victoria's apartment, it was almost to the pea soup stage, and Victoria did not feel good about the perfect cover it would give a potential killer. They said a tender good night and Mike promised to come to take her to breakfast in the morning. Mike left and Victoria undressed quickly. After feeding Miss Magic, she fell into a deep dreamless sleep.

A few hours passed when a dark shadow crept up the stairs and a large man deftly used a burglar tool on the back lock. He was not going to be frustrated again in his attempt to gain entry to her apartment. He had come prepared. He pushed the backdoor open and was confronted by a growling cat. With gloved hands, he reached down and grabbed the feline, despite the cat's desperate efforts to claw and bite him.

"You damn cat!" He threw it down the back stairs and closed the door softly behind him, hoping the cat's frightened yowl as it plummeted down the stairs would not be heard.

He lit a small dull-beamed flashlight and walked slowly through the kitchen and into the living room. He turned and spotted the bedroom and he could hear the sounds of a woman's slumberous breathing coming from within.

He paused. It was going to be so easy--just like the others. He had tried to make Victoria notice him, but to no avail. She obviously preferred Mike LaRossa. The man was a peasant! Certainly not nearly as worthy of her affection as himself. Anger contorted his features as he thought of the injustice of it all. But he had ways. He smiled as he thought of taking her by force. And then, if she still rejected him, he would make sure that he would be the last lover she ever had. She would beg him then.

The fog was just right, tonight of all nights. No one would be out this late, and even if they were, the thick misty swirls would protect him from recognition. It was all her fault. If she had not rejected him, if thoughts of her were not robbing him of his much needed sleep, he would not have driven to her place at this ridiculous hour. He knew he was just a hapless victim of her fatal beauty.

* * * *

Victoria suddenly roused from sleep, her head hurt and her heart was pounding. "What?" she asked herself and opened her eyes slowly. There was someone in the next room, she was sure of it. She could hear footsteps coming to her bedroom. If she did not make a noise, he could kill her and no one would know until tomorrow morning when Mike came.

She had to think fast. She scrambled out of bed and stuffed the pillows under the covers to imitate her sleeping form. Swiftly, she headed for the far side of the room when she remembered the gun in the bedside table.

"Damn," she mouthed.

Victoria slipped into the bathroom and hid behind the door. Even though her heart was racing, she tried to still her breathing and listen. She heard the footsteps stop. She peeked through the space between the door and the wall and saw a large man pause by the bed. She watched horrified as he slid a long knife out of his coat and proceeded to stab the pillows in rapid succession.

"What?" he said softly, cursing under his breath and uncovering the pillows. His face grew livid with rage as he scowled and looked quickly around the room.

The light from the street showed his features. Victoria's eyes grew wide with terror as she recognized the intruder. "Oh, my God,...Robert!" Victoria whispered under her breath, startled. How could he be the murderer? His parents had given him an alibi. Would they both have lied to protect their only son? His father being a lawyer, surely he would have known better. But Robert was there with a knife.

Suddenly, it all made sense. Yvette, Louise--he killed them both and got away with it. Now he had come for her. Well, he might kill her, but she was not going to make it easy for him, and she gritted her teeth in defiance.

She squashed herself as flat as possible behind the bathroom door. He walked into the bathroom through the hall door, not seeing her hiding behind the door to the bedroom. Victoria seized the moment and screamed for help while slamming the door and bolting for the living room, and escape.

He seemed amazingly fast for one so large. He opened the door and was on top of her in a flash, knocking her senseless to the floor. Taking her by the hair, he pulled her neck back. He drew the blade slowly across the hollow of her throat, releasing drops of blood from her skin. The pain brought her back to shocking reality as her warm blood trickled down her neck and soaked into her night gown. She would have cried out again, but he dropped the knife on the floor and placed his thick hand harshly across her mouth. She struggled against him and bit his fingers.

"Damn you, Victoria!" Robert muttered, shaking his hand. He cast about for a way to gag her and settled on the dish towel hanging on a towel rack above the kitchen sink. He pulled her to himself and dragged her, struggling, from the living room to the kitchen.

His lips pulled into a sneer as he looked at her. "You're much harder to kill than any of the others. That little cut on your neck is a present, a sample of things to come." His tone was modulated and his words precise. He gagged her with the dish towel and then dragged her back into the bedroom as she ceaselessly kicked and fought him.

"I've waited for this moment for months, my love. I have been longing for no one but you, my red-haired vixen." He raved on, licking his lips greedily, "Tonight I'll experience the fullness of our coupling."

He took the top sheet from the bed and used the knife to slash it into strips to bind her feet and hands as he dragged her about like a rag doll.

"It's useless to struggle, Victoria, it really is. It's not like you're the first person I ever...disposed of," he said against her hair as he tied her up and shoved her across the floor to the living room.

"Several hours before dawn...plenty of time...and you know, I'll never get caught. My parents will lie for me again, just like they always do. I tell them I did nothing wrong, and they always believe me, so they cover up for me. Isn't that what parents are for?" He chuckled merrily as he picked her up and drew her close to him.

Victoria felt waves of loathing wash over her. The hands that had murdered Yvette and Louise now held her in a deadly embrace. She fought nausea as she felt his breath on her neck. Tears welled up in her eyes and flowed silently down her cheeks.

"I wanted you, Victoria, but you didn't care for me at all. Usually, I enjoy dating women who put up with my kind of loving, if you know what I mean. Someone I can knock around when I feel like it, then say I'm sorry, and it's all okay again. But you were different. I must confess you were becoming an obsession with me. Yvette got terribly upset about you. She was really becoming so possessive and quite a bore, so she had to go." He said it simply and matter-of-factly as if he were discussing the weather. He felt her curves through her nightgown while she tried in vain to wiggle away from him.

His mocking smile diminished. "I don't really want to kill you, but you can see I have no choice. If I let you live, you'd turn me in and then marry that bartender. I really don't know what he can offer you that I can't. My elegant mansion, of course my parents live there too, but they're getting older and accidents do happen." He drew back with an expression of intense hatred.

Victoria shuddered. His parents were mere obstacles that could be removed. He had no feelings for anyone but himself.

"What a dilemma, my dear. If I remove your gag to kiss those ruby lips, you'll only start screaming again." He looked into her panic-stricken eyes and seemed to enjoy the feeling of superiority it gave him.

His hand cupped her breast, a look of pure lust lighting his eyes before he dragged her back into the bedroom.

"We could have had such fun, you and I, if only you'd been a bit more cooperative." He shook his head sadly and stroked her hair, first gently then harshly.

Victoria thought that this could not be happening. It was some awful dream and she would awaken any minute. Mike and her parents; they would be so stricken. If only she had let Mike stay with her! But this mad man would have killed them both without a second thought if he had the chance, she was sure of it. He would be safe, her Michael, to live and love again. At the thought of never seeing him again, more tears ran down her cheeks.

"You never loved me, Victoria, never wanted to spend any time with me. How like my parents you are. They never liked me, and neither do you. But you'll learn to like me before this night is over!" He hauled her up on the bed and began stripping away her night gown methodically.

With all her might, she rolled away from him and hit the floor with a thud.

He laughed. "It won't do you any good, my dear, to try to get away from me. That's what that foolish Louise did at your engagement party. She decided that she didn't like me either, so I stopped her," he paused, his eyes narrowing, "dead in her tracks, so to speak, as she ran back down the path." He picked up the knife from the floor and walked around the bed to tower over her nude body on the floor.

Suddenly there was a knock on the front door and Mike's voice asked softly, "Tory?"

Robert froze with the blade in mid air.

Mike knocked louder and called out again but Tory was helpless to scream.

Robert seemed undecided as the door started to open. He pointed the knife toward the door and then back toward Victoria's throat.

Mike entered the room and froze when he saw the knife at Tory’s throat.

"Put the knife down!" he roared at Robert.

"Why should I?" Robert snarled.

"You can't get away with this one, Worthington, drop the knife!" Mike said as he advanced towards Robert slowly. Robert appeared to pause, apparently thinking of the consequences of his action. In a lightning movement, he raised the knife causing a deep scratch on Victoria's neck, and threw the knife at Mike hitting him deeply in the shoulder, barely missing his heart.

Mike yelled out, falling against the sofa, while Robert ran out the back door and clattered down the outside stairs. Victoria slumped against the floor after Robert released her. She was terrified for Mike and she edged herself to his side. He was in shock from pain and blood loss so she hunched close to the open door and yelled as loud as she could through the gag. She saw the police officers coming down the hall and wondered if her elderly neighbor had called them. Swiftly as possible, one of the men untied her and removed the gag. He covered her nakedness with the quilt from her bed. She placed her arms around the man's neck and cried with relief. Another officer applied pressure to Mike's wound and phoned for the ambulance.

SAN FRANCISCO LADY - PAT SMITH

Chapter Seventeen

"Fiddle-dee-dee, fiddle-dee-doo, such a careless thing for a little boy to do," Robert chanted in an odd feminine voice. He sat in the harsh light of the holding cell, a mad gleam in his eyes. He rocked back and forth, ceaselessly, and it was plain to see that the tentative grip he had kept on sanity finally snapped. A brilliant young attorney had fallen in the clutch of dark passions. His parents tearfully answered questions in the detective's office.

"I never believed our son could be a murderer. We were just trying to protect him when that girl, Yvette was murdered. We thought him innocent, he was so convincing. We would not have lied if we had dreamed he had been guilty. Don't you see, Detective Smith?" Mrs. Worthington pleaded.

"I see all too clearly. You'll both be charged as accessories or for obstructing justice by lying about your son's whereabouts on the night of Yvette's murder."

"Why, why our son?" she asked piteously. "I would rather that he had died in infancy than to grow up to be a murderer," she sobbed.

Mr. Worthington put his arm around his wife's shoulder, saying nothing.

"Do either of you know anything about a governess who died when your son was young?" Detective Smith asked cautiously.

Mr. Worthington looked shocked. "What? What do you mean?" he asked.

"I mean your son has confessed to three murders."

"No, no it can't be. He was only a boy at the time of her death." Mr. Worthington's voice trailed off into silence.

* * * *

After spending time at the hospital ER, Mike and Tory rode back to her apartment in Mike's truck.

She was wearing a sweat suit and the wide bandage she wore did little to hide the pain of her slashed throat. A huge purple knot had raised on her forehead. At last they would have a chance to talk alone back at her apartment.

"Oh Lord, Tory, what he did to you!" Mike took her tenderly in his arms and kissed her cheek.

"He tried to kill me, Michael. Robert Worthington wanted to rape and kill me." Still shaken she clung to, Mike very thankful that he was with her. She would be eternally grateful that Mike's wound, though deep, had missed vital organs.

"Michael, are you in a lot of pain?"

"Well, that damn knife hurt like shit going in, but the docs patched me up good and tight."

There was a rap on the door and Victoria gave a start. Mike went to the door and beheld an elderly lady with soft gray hair and wire-rimmed glasses holding a platter of fragrant peanut butter cookies.

"Miss Needlemeyer, I can never thank you enough for calling the police and helping save our lives!" Tory watched Mike shake hands with the woman.

Miss Needlemeyer smiled and walked in and patted Victoria's hand. "Tory's a lovely girl and I did nothing anyone in my place would not have done. It was late and I was getting ready for bed. I like to watch Jay Leno at night, you know, and I thought I heard a scream. At first I thought it was just the TV, but then I heard this sound, like a baby crying. It didn't stop. I looked outside and saw Tory's cat, Miss Magic, meowing pitifully at her back door. Tory takes excellent care of her cat, and it would not be like her to leave the poor thing outside like that. Well, with that prowler here this summer, I just put two and two together and called the police." the gentle gray haired lady ended, "Thank God, I did. Then I heard yelling and I knew I had done the right thing."

"Thank God," Victoria chorused, giving Miss Needlemeyer a hug.

"I heard they caught the man that tried to kill you," Miss Needlemeyer ventured.

"Moose stopped Robert as he fled my apartment," Victoria explained.

"Moose?"

"Yes. He is a friend and employee of Mike's. Evidently, Moose made it his self-appointed duty to check on my safety. He saw Robert running down the back stairs, and by the time the police rounded the corner, Moose had Robert by the throat. He wouldn't let go, hollering something about me being dead. Moose had to hear that I was all right before he let the police have Robert."

Mike put his arm around her shoulder and hugged her closer. "Tory, I'm so sorry this happened..." his voice trailed off in anguish.

Victoria nodded her head. "I'd hate to think that madman was still on the street after what he tried to do to me, what he did to us! It was so hideous, he was going to rape me and then kill me, but Michael and the police came just in time. Michael, he had some kind of obsession about me. He had to be completely insane because he hardly knew me." Victoria shook as she spoke and leaned her face on his chest.

Mike rocked her gently like a child. "It's okay now, Tory, that man is behind bars and will never hurt anyone again."

"He told me how he killed Yvette and Louise."

Miss Needlemeyer shook her head in a concerned manner and remembering the cookies in her hand, offered the plate to Victoria and Mike.

"How awful for you, honey. It's going to take time, but we'll get through this."

Mike reached for the plate in a distracted manner, thanking Miss Needlemeyer.

"Victoria, now that Mike’s here and I know you’re all right, I’ll head home and try to get some sleep," Miss Needlemeyer said, as she yawned wearily. "I didn’t get much sleep last night, that’s for sure."

"Tomorrow, we’ll take you out for the best breakfast in town, Miss Needlemeyer. I can never thank you enough!" Mike patted her hand.

"I’m glad I was some help. I’ll take you up on breakfast," she said. "I hope you aren’t thinking of an early breakfast?"

Victoria saw the older woman out the door.

"She is so such a dear, Michael."

"Yes, what would we have done without her? " He watched a shadow cross Victoria’s face as she returned to his side. "What are you thinking, Honey?"

"I'm so glad you understand me, Michael. I was so angry, and I felt so helpless. But I'm not going to let this ruin my whole life," she said bravely.

"Don't torture yourself, Tory. It's all over now."

"I lived through it, but it'll be a while before I feel safe, Michael."

"I'm not leaving you alone again, ever." He rocked her gently in his arms.

"Don't worry. I won't let you out of my sight for a long while. I really thought that with the gun I'd be safe, but I never even got to use it. When Robert came into my bedroom, I fled into the bathroom and I never even thought about the gun. Everything went so fast and I was so terrified that I couldn't think clearly."

Miss Magic came limping into the living room and Mike noticed her immediately.

"Bless your little feline heart, Miss Magic. I owe you a big can of tuna for helping to save our Tory." Mike headed towards Victoria's kitchen cabinets and the tuna supply.

Victoria grinned. "I knew Miss Magic would bring you around to the fine art of being a cat lover, Michael."

"Yes, Tory, she has certainly done that."

They went into the kitchen and Tory watched Mike spooning food into her cat's dish.

"We'll have to do something special for Moose tomorrow, too, Michael," Victoria suggested gently.

"Yes, honey, we'll have to do something very special for Moose. I feel so bad that I ever suspected him."

"I can never thank Moose enough for stopping Robert's escape from the building. I didn't want to suspect Moose, but at the time, we had no idea who the murderer was."

Mike put his arm around Victoria and they walked back into the living room. "Do you want to get some sleep now, or do you need to talk some more?"

"I don't know, Michael. I feel at loose ends. My throat hurts the worst; I'll take a couple of aspirins. That should help the pain. Maybe then I can relax and go to sleep. In a way, I'm exhausted, yet in other ways, I'm still upset. I never came this close to dying before. It was so empty to think that I might never see you again, Michael." She paced the living room floor.

"Get the aspirins, honey, and then we'll sit on the sofa. I'll rub your back, maybe that'll ease some of the tension."

She went into the bathroom and opened the medicine chest. Victoria stared into the mirror and trembled. The bumps and bruises and her bandaged throat were all too obvious. But the pain she felt inside was worse. She had almost been the victim of rape and murder. Tears stung her eyes and she shook her head to clear away the terrible image of Robert dragging her into the bedroom. With a shaking hand, she reached for the aspirin bottle. She took the tablets with a glass of water back into the living room.

"There's a stain on the rug where he cut my throat and a smaller one where the knife nicked my neck," she remarked with a catch in her voice.

"You rest here, Tory, and I'll scrub up those stains. I'll only take a minute."

He went into the kitchen, and she laid down on the soft cushions and felt her body relax. Probably the aspirins were taking effect. She felt herself beginning to unwind. Michael being with her, she was secure at last. She noticed that he kept his eyes on her as if she might disappear. She could not get comfortable. No matter which way she turned, one of the cuts or bruises ached. Still, a joyful little voice cried out inside of her, I am alive!

"I wonder what they'll do to him?" she asked out loud.

"He has to be insane. I think prison for life at least, or possibly death," Mike declared.

Victoria shuddered. "He's a sick, twisted human being and as long as he was free, no woman could be safe."

Mike came back to the living room. "You're right, honey."

She scooted over so he could sit on the edge of the couch. His hands felt great as he gently rubbed her back. She knew he understood it was not the time for sex, rather a time for closeness and comforting that went beyond the physical. Michael's nimble fingers eased the tension out of her. She looked up at him with adoration and whispered, "Michael, I love you."

"Does your shoulder hurt a lot?" Tory wanted to ease the pain she saw in his eyes as he cared for her. Together they would get over the trauma of the previous evening.

"It hurts, but when I think of almost losing you, the hurt is nothing," he said quietly.

Victoria noticed tears in his eyes as he scanned the extent of the battering she had taken.

"It's finished, Michael," she said soothingly. "I wonder what made him into the twisted murderer he was? He had wealth, a prestigious job, one of the best families? I didn't like working for their law firm, but his father didn't seem like a terrible person or anything."

"It's hard to figure why some people turn out badly. We'll probably never know, but maybe something will come out at his trial. Honey, tomorrow I am hiring some new waitresses and you are going to devote this last month before our wedding to the final arrangements. The injuries and the mental strain of all these months being stalked by a cold-blooded killer have taken their toll on you. I don’t want you near the bar. I just want you to stay home and heal and get ready for our wedding in peace. And since I am going to be staying here, I’ll be taking care of the bills including the cat food. Is that understood? We’ll just start looking now for a bigger apartment to hold all of our stuff until we can find a house that suits you, my darling."

She laid her head on his chest and he wrapped his arms around her. "Thank you, Michael, I really need some time off to rest and clear my mind of all the trauma. And we will definitely need a bigger apartment to hold your athletic equipment and my books." She felt a deep peace at last. No longer did an unknown killer stalk her.

* * * *

Victoria beamed with excitement. The big old church overflowed with yellow roses tucked into baby's breath, but her bouquet held only sweet smelling lilies of the valley. It seemed all too beautiful. The grand old organ spilled out the bride's march, and she had her arm locked firmly around her father's for their very special walk together.

It looked like midnight Mass on Christmas Eve; there were so many well-wishers present. True, it was not high society, just plain folk--ranchers, clerks, salesmen, all the relatives and friends of Mr. and the future Mrs. Mike LaRossa. The families waited, cameras in hand, not wanting to miss one single moment of the big day.

Victoria smiled as she thought of her new in-laws to be, Mr. and Mrs. LaRossa. They were the kind of people you only had to talk to a few minutes to feel like you had known them a lifetime. That had to be where Mike got his great personality.

She watched Mike as she walked down the aisle, so handsome in his gray tux. His brown eyes sparkled in the candlelight and the wave in his sandy blond hair dipped over one eye most charmingly. She was getting the best looking man in San Francisco, she was sure of that, and the sexiest. Standing at his side was Moose. The big man looked as happy as she had ever seen him.

Victoria had chosen an off white-gown in rich creamy satin trimmed with miles of ribbon and delicate lace. She had splurged, but then she only intended to do this once, so she reasoned she might as well go all-out. Tears sparkled in her father's eyes and she swallowed hard when it came time to release his arm. She was leaving the warmth of a small town for the big exciting city of San Francisco on a permanent basis with her new husband, Michael LaRossa. But she was very confident that her new home with him would be every bit as warm and loving as her father's was.

Victoria saw her mother smiling broadly. It was unusual for her mother. For Ester Bell, there was always something wrong with everything. Just this once she seemed to be truly happy, and even Mike's establishment no longer was a major issue.

The priest waited patiently in the front of the church, looking rather bored with the whole proceeding. It had been rumored years ago that he would retire, but the elderly priest just kept on working in spite of a few minor problems with his memory.

Well, Victoria thought, he may be bored with the many weddings here at this cathedral, but this is my one and only!

"Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here...." the priest paused ominously as if he may have forgotten the next line or even where he was.

"Today!" Victoria hissed, reminding the man of his next words.

"Oh, yes," he suddenly said, "Today to witness the joining together as man and wife, Mike Lu - Lu ...srosa and Victory Bell," he continued absently.

"Michael LaRossa and Victoria Bell," she hissed again. Oh well, she reflected, life seldom went completely smooth. There always had to be at least one little, or sometimes a big glitch.

* * * *

Mike looked at his beautiful titian-haired bride, her hair done up in masses of ringlets, with pride and smiled. Only a small scar remained on her lovely slender throat to remind him of the tragedy that had almost occurred. Radiance shown in her large blue eyes and he reflected how good it made him feel inside to make her happy. Even if he were tempted someday, he would never want to let her down in anyway. It was a damned good thing that she had a sense of humor and patience.

* * * *

Victoria stood with Mike receiving the endless reception line, thanking her lucky stars to be there. The nightmare was over and now the dawn shone on her in all its glory.

Anthony and Della came through the line, all smiles. As Della took Mike's hand, Victoria noticed something small and bright on her finger.

"Della?"

Della looked at Victoria and gave her a broad smile. "We're engaged, Tory, isn't it great?"

Victoria thought the ring was pretty but tiny for the intended of a successful surgeon. Still it was the thought that counted most.

"I'm so very happy for you both," Victoria said, hugging Della.

Mike thumped Anthony's shoulder. "Congratulations, Doc," he said, a wide grin spreading across his face.

"Thank you, mon ami. I'll be stealing Della away from Mike's Place before long."

Mike hugged Della. "I'll miss you at work, Della, you have been the best waitress that any boss could ask for, but I can't tell you how happy I am for you both."

"Enough, Mike. This is your party. Tory, I’m sorry we haven’t been in touch, but I’ve been so busy working and getting ready for my wedding and you’ve been so busy getting the last minute details ready for your wedding that we just lost touch. But we will do some catching up as soon as possible." Della gave Mike a kiss on the cheek before she and Anthony went down the receiving line.

When the wedding ended, Victoria and Mike went by car to the nearby country club for an evening of dancing and merriment at the reception. After they arrived, Della and Victoria went into the makeup room to put up Victoria's long train so she could begin the dancing with Mike. With her train in place secured to the back of her gown, she asked Della about her engagement.

"Della, when did Anthony ask you to marry him, what did he say?" Victoria was all concern and curiosity.

"It was so romantic, Tory. Anthony took me to that little diner where we had our first date, if you could call it a date, after you dumped him and he needed to eat something before driving home."

"And?" Victoria asked on the edge of her seat in the make up room.

"He ordered omelets just like then. He asked me if I remembered that night. I told him sure. Well, he said he only started to realize that night what a special woman I was. Imagine, him thinking that I was so special?"

"Della, you are so very special and one of the best things about it is that you don’t think so."

"Ah, go on, Tory." Della blushed, "Anyway, he said he had been thinking things over very seriously. He said he wanted to be a different kind of father to his children than his father had been. He wanted to really be involved with their lives. He said he had a lot of things to work on as far as his patience goes. I agreed with him on that. But he said he was applying for the job of being Hector’s step-father and with that he pulled this ring box out of his coat pocket. I almost fainted. My mom had told him my ring size and kept it secret from me. Imagine her doing that? He said he had picked this ring out all by himself, but if it wasn’t to my liking, I could take it back and get any ring in the store I liked."

"Gee, that was sweet."

"I sure thought so, but I told him that I didn’t want any ring other than the one he had picked for me. He opened the box and put this ring on my finger and I am here to tell you, Tory, that I have never been happier in my whole life." Della held her hand with the small glittering diamond up to the light.

"Oh, Della," Tory said, hugging her friend.

"But you haven’t heard the whole story. He says we are announcing our wedding to take place next month in the papers and he is putting it in himself the very next day. He insisted that he is paying for the wedding himself, and we are going to have a regular church wedding, small but respectable and of course you and Mike are invited. In fact you have to be my maid of honor, Tory."

"Oh, my, Della. Of course I’ll be your maid of honor! What did his parents say or have you told them?" Victoria stood back looking at Della intently.

"Yeah, and I bet they would have preferred that we elope quietly. But he insisted that we drive all the way out to Napa Valley that night and tell them. He already arranged with my mom to keep Hector and face his parents the very next day. We drove in at like three in the morning and the butler let us in. We spent the night in one of their fifty guest rooms and it was comfortable and the furniture was massive, but I can tell you this, Tory, I never want a house that big and impersonal." Della spread her hands wide apart.

"What did they say?" Tory crossed her legs under her gown and leaned closer to hear Della’s story.

"It was a picture. Early the next morning his parents come down to breakfast and the butler, Henry, this skinny, white haired, elderly man with a French accent, comes and wakes us up so we can go down and join them. I was so scared. His mom terrifies me. I am already tired from the late night so I told Anthony that I don’t think this is such a good idea. But he insists. He says if the announcement comes out in the paper without him having told his parents, his mom will never forgive him, never."

We walk down the stairs like we are facing the guillotine, me trailing behind. When we sit down at the table, his mother is very curious.

To what do I owe the pleasure of your company at breakfast, Anthony, you so seldom spend a night here and never with a young lady? His mother asks very cold.

I have an announcement and I was going to wait until after the eggs and coffee, but here it goes. I know that in many ways I have been a disappointment to you both. But I am content with my life except that I have been lonely of late. There comes a time in a man’s life when he needs to find a life partner and have a family.

No, mon cher, not her! What is she marrying you for? His mother yells, standing up.

This may come as a shock to you, mater, but Della loves me, that is why she has agreed to become my wife. Anthony got up and was preparing to leave when his father speaks up. Anthony told me under his breath that this was why he did not bring Hector along. He was afraid there might be an argument.

Sit down, you two children. Madam, our son has made a very important decision for his life. I believe that he is old enough to decide for himself and we should be old enough to accept his decision graciously. Enough said. Congratulations, Son. We will welcome you to our family, Della. When are you intending to get married? Mr. Derofert stood and walked towards them with arms outstretched. Mrs. Derofert just stood there with her mouth open. I guess she was used to getting her own way in almost everything but not this time."

I am notifying the paper of our engagement today and I am planning to be married by this time next month if myself and my lovely bride to be can arrange a small intimate wedding by then to be attended by our close family and friends in our parish if that meets with your approval.

That sounds splendid, son.

Mr. Derofert came to us and embraced us. Mrs. Derofert hesitated but decided that she had lost the battle and came reluctantly around the table and placed a hand on our shoulders and said nothing.

"Wow, sounds like a really bad scene."

"It was kind of rough. After that Henry started bringing in this wonderful coffee in a silver coffee service and we had the best strawberries on waffles that you have ever seen in you life. I raved about the food, and Mrs. DeRofert seemed to get a little calmer."

"But it had a good ending. Sort of. You know how your mom was meddling in all your wedding plans, Tory?"

"Yes. How could I ever forget?" Tory sat back and laughed.

"Well, Mrs. Derofert, Anthony’s mom, is at my house every morning before I go to work trying to take me here and there to buy this and that for the wedding and she has a house picked out for us and everything."

"What does Anthony say?"

"Well, it really isn’t such a bad house and I think he is just glad that his mom is finally accepting us. I think in her own way, she missed not having a daughter and she is kind of softening up towards me. But boy is she bossy!"

"Have you mentioned to her that you would like to study nursing?"

"No way. I am going to save that one until after we are married but I talked to Anthony about it and he understands my desire to live a useful life working at something I would enjoy just like he did."

"I think in that respect, you and Anthony are a lot alike. I have to know. What does your house look like?"

"It’s not huge like the DeRofert’s but it is stone and wood, sort of a natural look, good size, something like six bedrooms and a swimming pool and a tennis court; Hector will love it. I guess I’ll have to learn to play tennis." The ever practical Della looked pained at the thought of chasing that little ball around the tennis court, not her cup of tea. " But there are a lot of bright spots, Anthony and him are going to pick out a dog tomorrow because we will have a great yard, lots of trees and flowers. I don’t know who is more excited about getting the mutt, Hector or Anthony."

"Get this, Mrs. DeRofert and my mom get along and when she picked out the house for us it came with a mother-in-law cottage behind just for mom. She is buying all this beautiful furniture to go in our house and we won’t even have the final papers signed on the house until next week. Anthony had enough money in savings to pay cash for the house, but his mom and dad are giving us all the furniture as wedding presents. Man, it sure must be nice to have that much money. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to it." Della shook her head.

"You will get used to it, Della." Tory patted her shoulder.

"I may never get used to having the money, but I am sure going to love getting used to having Anthony around. Humm, Tory, he is sooo sexy! And someday I think we will have a baby of our own, maybe two. But Hector will always be our first son. In his own way, I think Anthony loves him as much as I do."

"You are a nut, Della. I am just so very happy for both of you. If any two people ever deserved a chance at happiness, it is the two of you or should I say the three of you."
"We better get back to the wedding party or they will come looking for us." Victoria took Della’s hand and led her back out to the dance floor. In her mind, Victoria was wondering about a career for herself. Would she return to Mike’s Place full time or only part time and pick another avenue such as wedding consultant for her career? Now that might really be fun, she thought to herself, as they approached the dance floor arm in arm.

They reached the dance floor just in time as the DJ in his wild silver suit announced the first dance. Mike took Victoria’s hand in his and led her out to the dance floor. All sorts of colorful flowers dripped from scones positioned on the walls around the room. Candlelight glowed from the tables and ribbons decorated the white linen table clothes. A huge wedding cake dominated one corner of the room, white with tiny frosting flowers all around the sides. On the top was an elegant spray of lily of the valley. Michael’s rich dark chocolate groom’s cake was beside it. A small band played and a DJ promised to keep the evening jumping.

"You're so handsome, Michael; I could dance with you all night," Tory whispered in his ear.

"You're much too pretty to dance with all night, Mrs. LaRossa." He whispered in her ear, "I have other plans."

"Do any of them involve whipped cream?" She smiled seductively at him as they danced into the crowd.

"Yes, Tory, the plans I have for you might just definitely involve whipped cream." Mike said, grinning from ear to ear.