The purity men love is like the mists which envelop the earth, and not like the azure ether beyond. Henry David Thoreau
The alarm clock startled Julie, interrupting a nightmare. She was wet with perspiration and glad to be awake. It was still dark outside. She jumped out of bed, plugged in the hotel's coffeemaker, and went into the shower. As she stepped out wrapped in a towel, she took a drink of the fresh coffee, switched on the hair dryer and dried her hair. When her cell phone rang, she dropped the drier and rushed to pick up.
"Ms. Del Rio, this is Deputy Norton. We checked the wreckage. We didn't find anyone down there. Whoever caused this accident wants you to think your partner is dead. Your team should take over the investigation from here. It may be weeks before we can get the car raised, especially with all of our resources devoted to the train wreck."
"Thank you officer. We'll take care of things from here on." Julie breathed somewhat easier knowing Sean might be alive. She glanced at her watch and realized that she had to hurry if she was going to keep her appointment with Rakky. She didn't wait for her hair to be completely dry. The humidity had turned her normally straight style into a mound of knotted curls. There was little time to fuss with it, so she gathered the curls on top of her head and held them in place with a large clip, letting some hang loose around her face. She got dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt and ran out the door.
It took twenty minutes to reach the entrance to the National Forest Preserve. Through the trees she saw the golden rays of the sun diffused by the fine morning mist that hovered close to the ground. The air was thick and wet, and a chill swept through her sweatshirt and into her joints. In the distance she saw Rakky Basidia standing in front of a large black van. As she approached, Rakky cheerfully said to her, "Good morning!"
"Good morning Rakky, I …"
"I like your hair that way! Natural," he said loudly, his clear blue eyes looking piercingly into hers. Julie blushed, afraid that the group behind the van had overheard the comment. The group consisted of two men and three women who looked like they belonged to the octogenarians' club. The men were wearing pants and sweatshirts, but the women wore colorful stretch pants and knitted sweaters. Among them was Mrs. Southerland, the retired teacher who had spoken on television about Rakky's poisoning.
"Julie, meet Joe McClawsky, Jim Brady and Abigale Southerland."
"Nice to meet you Mrs. Del Rio," said Mrs. Southerland extending her hand.
"It's Ms. Del Rio."
"Oh, you're not married," said the old woman looking at Rakky. Juliana blushed again.
