Into the Darkness

Chapter One – Lengthening Shadows
The office was comfortable, a framed original by a local artist hanging on one wall, his diploma and licensure hanging on another and cranberry sound proof panels covering the wall that connected to the lobby. Dark cherry furniture, a writing desk and bookshelf; a taupe sofa and chair were illuminated by the recessed can lights in the ceiling.
Andrew glanced at the small, unobtrusive clock on the bookshelf for perhaps the tenth time in that many minutes. Trying to look attentive, he smiled and nodded as the voice droned in the background. An intake of air, left index finger pushing his glasses back into position, he leaned forward; a beat, then the voice paused, and he pounced.
“Well, James, I can understand your frustration. As we have talked about before, you have to break this cycle of dependence on her. Your mother isn't trying to run your life; you simply are allowing her to. Remember, you control your future and your mother, I am sure, would want you to feel comfortable with that.”
“But, Andrew, she keeps pleading with me to be there for her. I can’t just abandon her, she needs me.”
“I am sure she does; however, think about your life. We both have agreed that she wants you to find happiness. You must find the balance between your existence and being there for her. Moving into your own apartment is the first step toward liberating the both of you. You will find that you are better prepared for it than you know.” Andrew smiled his best “you can do it grin” and then rose slowly from the chair.
As always, his large frame seemed to pull James up out of the chair in a kind of gravitational way. At 6'5", Dane was a tall man; build broad across the shoulders and still in good shape even with ten years between him and the Corps. Remembering to soften his tone, he looked at James and said, “What I want you to work on is your plan to move out on your own. Your thirty-seven, I have no doubt that; tough though it may be at first, you can make out very well. Give both you and your mother the chance to spread your wings.”
James looked about the small office and sighed, picked up his backpack and made his way tentatively toward the door. “Should I make another appointment for next week?”
“No James, I have been seeing you for far too long for this weekly visit issue to return. You can do this; I know you can. Come back next month and we’ll see where we are then, okay?”
Okay. That settled, Andrew escorted James to the lobby and nodded to Vanessa. “Van, set Jim up with an appointment for the first week in January; also, call his mom and let her know that he’s on his way home.” Turning to James he said, “Have a great holiday, James and tell your mother we said, Merry Christmas. I’ll see you after New Year’s, okay?”
Without waiting for the usual hesitant response, he clapped James Schmidt on the back and whisked him out the door.
Sighing as he closed it, he shot a dark look at Vanessa. “Why in the world did you schedule him for Friday afternoon before Christmas? You know he does this every time. I think you hate me.”
“OMG, Andy, you act like dealing with Jimmy is the worst thing in the world. Heck, at least he keeps you busy.” With that she burst off a peal of good-natured laughter and stuck her tongue out at him. “Now, shoo! I can’t bolt out of here early if you’re just gonna hang around and wait to catch me. Go!”
“Wait,” Andrew said handing her a bag, “Merry Christmas to the world’s worst receptionist.”
The bag was black, almost nondescript; however, he had no doubt Vanessa would not only know what it was right away, but would be able to estimate the exact cost.
“Oh, Beaux Chevaux, how nice of the boss to treat.” Vanessa spent more time down at the small salon in the office building than at her own desk.
“Have a Merry Christmas Van, give Will and the kids a hug and I will see you on the third. I am Florida bound.” With a jaunty wave of his hand, Andrew Dane stepped out of the office and hurried to his car.
The late afternoon traffic was starting up and Andrew knew that he was going to have a fun drive on the Lloyd tonight. Evansville wasn't a huge city, but the traffic could get nasty quickly on a Friday, especially with a holiday just a few days away.
The Fiat 500 ducked into an open slot on the westbound expressway and started toward home. WIKY was playing “Linus and Lucy” for the billionth time and Andrew grimaced at the all-too-familiar tune.
As the song faded, the local DJ began an intro to a report of a school shooting in Connecticut and the giddiness that Andrew had been feeling waned. Twenty young children killed by a mentally ill gunman, and just a few days before the shooting at the mall in Portland;
Merry Christmas; yeah, right.
Taking his exit, he screwed on his smile and tried to push it to the back; compartmentalize it. Mandy and the kids didn't need to be bummed too. God, when would they start taking mental health issues more seriously?
Dane wasn't against guns, not per-se. He owned one and carried it; but, the idea that assault weapons could be purchased by anyone with a mental disorder just made absolutely no sense at all.
Pulling into the driveway, he could hear Noel greeting him in her customary fashion. He was sure by now; she had torn the backyard up completely and eaten at least one of his three children.
. Mandy waved as he got out of the car, and he could tell she had been watching the news. Her eyes were shimmering from the tears and he knew she was wondering how she would react if it was one or all of their children. She forced a smile and gave him the thumbs up. She was okay.
Dane stood for a moment just watching her, her dark brown hair with its blond highlights, the trendy tortoise shell frames around her dazzling blue eyes and her full figured perfection. God, he still loved her after all this time. It always seemed to catch him off guard.
Naomi was the first one out the door and she flew into his arms, kisses flying about his face like a swarm of sweet, warm mosquitoes. “Hi daddy! Mommy says we’re all packed. Nick tried to hide his homework, but mommy found it. Lindsay says she has a new boyfriend and Noel ate my crayons.”
Carrying his three year old into the small house, Andrew dropped her with a plop into his big over-sized recliner. Her shriek and accompanying giggles announced his arrival to her siblings.
“Daaaaaaddy! Can we go play basketball before dinner? Mom said to ask you, and I have been waiting all day for you to get home.” Nick was practically pinging off the walls as he blurted out his request. Like most children his age, he had an overwhelming flair for the dramatic; Andrew looked at him a moment pointedly and arched an eyebrow. “I got most of my homework done;” answering the unasked question.
“Most? Have you finished your dissertation young man?” Andrew had been kidding Nick about his dissertation since he was three.
“Oh, brother, I don’t want to go to college. I want to be a fireman; you don’t have to go to college for that.”
“True, but you do have to climb ladders.” Nick hated heights.
“I could sell peanuts at the Otters games.” His six year old suggested. Andrew burst into laughter and shook his head.
“Dad, why are boys so weird?” Lindsay asked walking into the room in an outfit much too tight on her emerging adolescence. At fourteen Lindsay was beautiful and Andrew hated it; she was far too pretty and getting more so each day.
“Just lucky I guess; who’s weird?” Andrew queried looking at Mandy.
“Joey; he’s this cute new boy at my school. He says that coke can clean battery terminals and that people shouldn't drink it. I think he made that up.” Lindsay said in her ‘he’s dreamy’ voice.
“Actually, Joey is correct. By the way, does this Joey have a last name and a current background check?” Lindsay shot him a look and then barged out of the living room.
After checking on Noel, the family German shepherd and then verifying that all was right in her realm, no dead animals or children to concern himself with; Andrew headed off to the kitchen, mainly an excuse to kiss his wife and squeeze her caboose. Andrew changed into his jeans and a sweatshirt and played basketball in the driveway with the kids.
By the time dinner was ready, the four of them were silly, exhausted and worn out. Mandy ramrodded them through the meal, reminding both Andrew and Nick to keep their elbows off the table, and telling Lindsay that ladies sat up at the table.
Bath, bedtime stories for the younger two and then tucking them in for bed took another hour and a half; Mandy, Andrew and Lindsay were then all alone in the living room.
“Lindsay, did you talk to your father?” Mandy prompted.
“Not yet, I was hoping you would.” His little girl shot him a guilty look.
“Lindsay would like permission to skip the Florida trip and stay with Destiny for the week. I spoke with Van and she said she would love to have her.” Lindsay bit her lip and stared at him with her big blue eyes.
“Oh, hell; stop with the puppy-dog-eye thingy. Let me talk to Van and Will.” He reached for the phone.
Fifteen minutes later, after both Van and Will assured him they thought it was a grand idea he acquiesced. Just as he was wishing them a Merry Christmas; Vanessa said, “Oh, Andy, before I hang-up; those folks from Independence called again while you were in your last session. They need an answer right away.”
Independence Behavioral Health Care was a company based out of Dayton. They provided counseling for sex offenders both during and after incarceration. They had approached Andrew some months before offering him a position as a client provider with their company.
“Call them in the morning, explain the situation but that I would love to treat some of their clients and have them call when I am back in town. Goodnight Vanessa.” Andrew sighed as he hung up. “Looks as if we are one child short for our trip to Florida; would you like us to bring a tee-shirt back for you, a pair of mouse ears; anything?”
Throwing her arms around her father’s neck, Lindsay began to babble about what great parents they both were and how she would never forget this and how she was going to… blah, blah, blah. Andrew chuckled and kissed his daughter’s cheek.
After Lindsay finally made her way to her room, the adults were finally alone. Andrew and Mandy were curled up on the sofa, a glass of wine for each, a fire blazing and the sounds of silence echoing through the house.
“The Independence folks have a few of their clients they want me to treat. I told Van to go ahead and tell them I would.” Andrew said, stroking his wife’s hair.
“ Isn't that the company that deals with the perverts? Andy, are you sure it’s a good idea, I mean, are these people safe?” Mandy nestled deeper into his shoulder.
“Baby, I told you, these guys are bad off, yes; but, they need counseling just as much if not more than anyone else; I promise, I will be okay. Besides; most of them are harmless, just peepers and porn addicts.”
His smile belied his real feelings, he was nervous; having read the files on some of these guys, he had real concern about their ability, or desire, for real change. No sense worrying Mandy with that though, he kissed the top of her head.
Hours later, after making love to his wife and watching her drop off to sleep, he went into his study and began to flip through the files again. Rape, incest, child molestation, violent sexual assault; the list just kept going. Andrew saw the files as a bridge, crossing from the light into a dark and frightening realm and he was about to set his foot upon the path.

#

The holiday had been great, a week of fun and warmth in Orlando; Disney World, Universal Studios and just spending time with the wife and kids. More than once someone would say, “It’s too bad Lindsay didn't come, she would have had fun.” By the time the trip was over, they were tired and happy and ready to start the New Year off with a smile.
Lindsay was excited to see them when they returned; apparently the week had not been as much fun as she had hoped. Joey, it seemed had a crush on Valerie Espinoza, one of the cheerleaders and barely noticed Lind, Destiny and she had gotten into an argument over the validity of Justin Bieber as a “true artist” and had fallen out during the week and she had begun her period while they were away.
“Ah, the drama of high school girls,” Andrew thought listening to the report.
By the first day back in the office, Andrew had forgotten that sense of foreboding about his new clients and was ready to get back to it. Vanessa handed him a stack of charts for the day and placed a cup of coffee on his desk. “Angela is your nine o’clock, and then you have a new guy from Independence at ten; apparently, they didn’t want you to second think this. His file is the red one.” Vanessa looked at him pointedly, “Andy, you know I love my job; but, are you sure this is going to be okay? I gotta say; I am not really comfortable with all of this. These guys are a little scary.”
“Van, trust me; if this gets too much we’ll back out okay?” Andrew sighed and told her to send Angela in when she arrived. As he waited for the first of his day, he started to read through the red file lying on his desk.
William Cassidy Harmon was thirty-seven and had just spent the last seven years incarcerated at Newcastle, the prison most often used to house the sex offenders. He had been accused of attempted sexual battery on a minor. The young girl in question was a neighbor’s daughter who Harmon had allegedly fondled during a neighborhood pool party. During the trial, Harmon had maintained that he had been merely attempting to tie the girl’s bikini bottom string.
Harmon was married, the father of two and had worked for a local plastics plant until the time of his arrest. During his incarceration he had undergone group therapy and had finally admitted that he was sexually attracted to young teen girls and that he had often fantasized about the victim.
During his incarceration, Harmon had made significant improvement in his thinking and his self-motivational assessment and was showing a great deal of empathy for his victim. He was the perfect candidate for SOMM (sex offender maintenance and management) post release.
Angela’s session was fairly uneventful, Angela was a long-term patient, and they spoke of her upcoming dental visit and practiced relaxation techniques for the oral surgery she would undergo. Angela left slightly less pensive and Dane checked the lobby for the new client as he walked her out.
Vanessa caught the look and said, “Nope, no sign of him; and he hasn’t called. Do you think he might not show?” She asked wishfully.
“No, he’ll be here, he has to be; besides, I get the feeling this guy wants the help. Show him back when you get finished with him.” With that Dane turned and headed for the coffee pot. At two minutes to ten a thin, balding man with glasses entered the lobby. He wore a perplexed look on his face and seemed afraid of his own shadow; his gangly appearance reminded Vanessa of Ichabod Crane, from the ‘Legend of Sleepy Hollow’ and she stifled a smile. Walking to the desk, he cleared his throat and almost whispered, “I have a ten o’clock appointment with Mr. Dane; my name is Billy Harmon.”
Vanessa again, suppressed the urge to grin and said, “Alright, Mr. Harmon, I have some paperwork for you to fill out and then we’ll get you back to see Mr. Dane. Do you have your release paperwork with you?”
Billy produced the papers and then huddled in a chair near the desk and filled out the stack of release forms and information packet. Fifteen minutes later, he stood at the desk again and hesitantly held the clipboard out to her.
A moment later and she escorted the timid man to Dane’s office. Knocking she opened the door and introduced the two men. Smiling as she walked back to her desk, she chided herself for her prejudice against someone who was so obviously more afraid of her than she was of him.
Dane sat for a moment in the office, he in his desk chair and Billy on the small sofa, studying his newest client. Finally, after a long moment he broke the silence. “Billy, do you understand why you’re here today?”
“Yeah, it’s because I touched that little girl; it’s because I wanted to have sex with her. It’s because I’m sick.” Harmon sat looking at the floor; he wouldn’t raise his head to look at Dane. He sat with his long arms wrapped protectively around his bony knees. He paused and then continued; “I wasn’t trying to hurt her, I didn’t even want to do anything other than just feel her skin. The sick part is; I have known her since she was born; we used to babysit her. But, she isn’t a little girl anymore, she, she grew up and I can’t keep from thinking about her.”
Some prompting from Dane got Harmon talking about his youth, the physical and emotional abuse by his parents and a humiliating sexual assault by his uncle when he was eight. He had a history of alcohol abuse and suffered from bi-polar episodes and had some anti-social tendencies; traits that Andrew would rapidly learn were shared by a great many of these clients.
By the end of an hour, Dane had a fairly good grasp of who William Cassidy Harmon was and, more importantly, who he could become; they ended the session and Andrew walked him to the door.
“Billy, we’re going to be having group sessions; I have about three or four other men who will be joining us shortly. Are Thursday evenings okay for you?”
“Sure, Mr. Dane; that will work just fine; just let my Parole Agent know will ya?”
After he left, Vanessa headed for the break room, her typical routine for lunch; while Andrew headed over to the sub shop on Main Street and devoured a buffalo chicken sub.

#

The next SOMM client was Jeremy Michael Uebelhor; he was a twenty-four year old who had been incarcerated at Newcastle for statutory rape. He had been dating Lisa M. for two years, she was thirteen and he was sixteen when they started seeing each other. He claimed that the two had consensual sex on his eighteenth birthday and didn’t understand how he could be a sex offender. He was arrested and sentenced to thirteen years in prison and paroled after six.
Jeremy was followed by Brian Hunsacker, a forty year old mechanic who had been arrested for child pornography because he’d downloaded a group of pornographic photos from the internet on a P2P site. Jeremy claimed he had no idea that some of the photos were of underage girls and that he hadn’t intended to receive kiddy porn.
The next addition was John Allen Crewe, fifty-eight, he was charged with sexual battery and taking indecent liberties with a minor. He had been a coach for a local high school girls’ basketball team and, had slapped a player on the derrière after a play in a game. The coach had been fired for his conduct and then charged with the offense by the player’s parents. While he had never been previously charged with misconduct, he had been relieved at another school for similar circumstances.
The first group session; a late Thursday night group, was memorable, the four men sitting, staring at each other and then at Dane; each of them waiting for someone, anyone other than them to start. Dane cleared his throat and then asked THE QUESTION; what made them commit the offense that led to this situation?
Each man tried to answer with what they thought was what Dane wanted, bad choices, bad company, bad childhood, etc.; Dane waited, shaking his head negatively at each response. Finally, as they all looked at him puzzled, he asked again. “What prompted you to commit the initial offense that led up to this?”
Crewe spoke first, “It was just a slap on the butt; I wasn’t trying to cop a feel, I was just congratulating her.” The other three looked at him, exchanged glances and then turned to Dane.
“John, if you were her father and you saw someone do that exact same thing to her, how would you feel? What would your response be?”
“Damn it, I wasn’t trying to be fresh with her, I wasn’t; it just happened.”
“John, let’s talk about the other school; the one in Michigan where you left after a fifteen year old player claimed you groped her. What was your claim then? Oh, yeah; you said you were checking to make sure she was wearing the appropriate undergarments. Was that just a misunderstanding too?”
John looked at the floor, his hands hanging between his knees, his face crimson and his eyes filled with shame.
“I didn’t know it was against the law to share files on them sites.” Brian claimed. “I was just downloading some pics, you know, for later. I didn’t know there were pictures of little girls in them. It was just a file sharing site.”
“Brian, that site was named ‘Too Young to Know’ and according to the police computer forensic guys, you looked that site up specifically using the search phrase, ‘underage girl’s nude’; also, at the time of your trial, the owner of the auto shop you worked in said he had found similar photos on the work computer at the shop. They also discovered over twenty thumb drives in your apartment all containing sexually deviant pornography. You wanna try again?”
Brian squirmed in his seat and then got up for more coffee.
“What about you Jeremy? Tell us your story.” Andrew studied the young man intently.
“Not much to tell; I met Lisa through a mutual friend and we hit it off. She was so damn pretty, she had these big green eyes that sent this jolt of electricity through me; anyway, we had been seeing each other for a while and we knew we were going to get married, there was just no way possible that we wouldn’t; so on my birthday, we slept together. When her mom and dad found out, they called the police; I was arrested and found guilty. She wrote me for a while, and then she stopped. I still love her Andy; how could that be illegal?”
“According to the court testimony, Lisa claimed she kept telling you to stop, but, you didn’t. Why would she say that?” Andrew asked.
“Her dad; he was an abusive piece of shit; kept beating her up all the time. I still have her letters, she talks about what he did, what he threatened to do if she didn’t lie. She was afraid, Andy; and I wasn’t there to protect her.”
Andy looked at Billy. Billy Harmon sat, tears streaming from his face; looking at the young man. Without a word, he rose, walked over and placed his arm over Jeremy’s shoulder and just stood there.
His voice, scratchy at first, gained strength as he spoke, “I am a pedophile. It ain’t nothin’ new to me; I’ve been this way since I can remember. I like little girls, the way they smell, the sound of their laughter; I am an addict. I sexed the first one when I was thirteen, she was seven. She was a little girl that went to my mamas church, she smelled like Ivory soap and shampoo. She cried when I shoved my finger in; but I couldn’t stop. Mama had to change churches. The girl I went to prison over; I would have sexed her, I would have; I was so turned on at the feel of her.”
The four all looked at each other, assessing the others; weighing their crimes against everyone else’s. Andy cleared his throat and said, “Gentlemen, everyone here has a chance, an opportunity to change the course of their lives; it’s up to you, continue on, spend your life in prison, both literally and figuratively; or agree to end the pain, now. It truly is up to each of you.”
The session ended exactly on time, each man nodding and mumbling goodbyes and then heading off into the darkness with their own nightmares to accompany them.

#

Friday morning was Dane’s favorite; his one morning of true relaxation of the seven; with a late schedule. So, with the kids at school and Mandy off on her way; Andy just relaxed and read the newspaper. Opening the Gazette, he spotted the headline without prompting “Police Search for Rapist”. Dane shook his head and worried that this might be one of his guys.
The article simply stated that Evansville Police were searching for a rapist of a Westside woman who had been arriving home from work, as she unlocked her apartment door; the assailant came from behind and entered the apartment. She was raped, the apartment was robbed and she never saw the assailants face. No identification of the victim was given.
Dane had just finished reading the article and fixing his second cup of coffee when the phone rang, reaching for it he spilled hot coffee all over himself. “Dane, it’s Jay, listen you probably need to come down here to the station; we got a victim from a sexual assault that needs some counseling. She asked for you specifically.”
“Okay Jay, I should be there shortly. Let me call Van and tell her I am running late and I will be on my way.”
After changing pants, he called Van from the car, canceled his late morning appointments and headed for Sycamore Street and the Court House.

#

Detective Jay Ramirez and Dane had been friends since boot camp at Parris Island, as Dane entered the Evansville PD offices, Ramirez met him at the door. "Hey Andy, follow me; we have you all set in one of the interrogation rooms. It's a little cold I know; but, it offers the most privacy."
"So, Jay, you said this woman asked for me? Who is she?"
"Victim is a Sonya Holmsteadt, twenty, student at U of E; she claims she was a patient of yours a while back."
Dane remembered her; Sonya had been twelve at the time of her mother's death from cancer and had provided grief counseling for Sonya and her father. "Yeah, Sonya's a sweet kid; whew, okay let's see how bad the damage is."
Dane entered the austere room and walked straight up to the table where the girl was seated. Her face was a wreck, bruised and puffy from the assault and the subsequent tears; underlying that however, was the beauty of a pretty girl in her prime. Dane felt a small lump build up in his throat.
"Hello Sonya." Andrew said; his eyes filled with compassion.
"Mr. Dane;" the dam burst and the tears and sobs flowed from the victim with a great deal of force. After a moment she composed herself and stammered, "th-thank you so much for coming. I didn't know w-who else to ask for. You're the only, the only one I trust." Her brown eyes swam with tears and again Andrew felt the tug at his heart.
The process of the interview was slow and painful for both of them. Andrew tried to circumvent the land mines that were still so shallowly buried and just deal with the surface pain.
Sonya, for her part, tried to stay strong and relate the attack as clearly and accurately as she was able. For nearly two torturous hours the two battled the demon from the night before and finally, exhausted, they called it good. Sonya sat, shivering from the painful memory and Andrew took her small hand in his.
"Sonya, do you remember what I said when your mother passed away? Remember that first day in my office?"
Sonya nodded her head and looked up at the large man.
"This is similar to that day in the respect that; one day, you will be able to breathe again without all this pain, I will be here for you every step of the way; and we will get you through this dark forest. I promise." Andrew smiled his best paternal smile and patted her hand.
Sonya smiled a slight smile, rose and then, unexpectedly, threw her arms around the large therapist's neck and hugged him tightly. Breaking the hug she whispered, "Thank you, Mr. Dane. I will call Monday and schedule an appointment."
"Don't wait, call today. Vanessa will get you in as soon as possible, okay?"
"Alright." She smiled meekly and then exited the room.
A minute later, Jay entered the interrogation room. "Man, Andy, she's a tough little gal that one. Is she going to be okay?"
"I hope so, Jay, I hope so." Andy looked at the door and wondered, then walked into the bull pen and asked about a cup of coffee.
As the two men sat and discussed everything but the assault, Lt. Bill Henderson walked up. Henderson was the lead detective on the case and Jay's partner.
"Jay, Andy; you guys got a minute, the Captain would like to talk to you?"
The pair entered Captain Weinzapfel's office, pulled up chairs and waited as the Captain finished the phone call he was on. Captain Peter G. Weinzapfel was a no-nonsense cop, a hard-nosed German-American with a harsh demeanor, with a jovial core.
"Ah! Just the knuckleheads I wanted to see. Dane, you're fired; turn in your badge and report to the meter maid division." The Captain laughed at the old joke.
"Hey Cappy, how ya been?" Dane asked.
"Andrew, this whole situation is getting outta hand. That young girl in there is the latest in a string of these assaults. Four in the last two months, we've been trying to control the media on them; I just don't know how long we can keep this from becoming a panic situation." Shifting tack he asked, "How is she anyway, Andrew? Is there anything we can do to help her?"
Andrew knew the ‘we’ referred to was Cappy and his wife, Melinda; "No Cappy, just find this guy and let's get him off the street."
"That's why I wanted to talk to you; I need you to help build us a psychological profile on this Delta Bravo." The two ex-Marines looked at each other and grinned. Cappy was a former Army Ranger and the three often resorted to military phonetics. "I want this guy stopped, and I believe I can speak for every one of the victims in saying, and the sooner the better."
“Sure Cappy, I will get started on it ASAP. Jay can fill me in on the particulars on each case and I will get you a profile right away. Anything else?” Andrew asked starting to rise.
“Wait a minute, Andy.” Cappy reached for the phone and hit a speed dial button. “Elaine, this is Captain Weinzapfel, can I speak to the Mayor please. Yes, I can hold a moment.” The sound of muzak drifted from the receiver as he cupped the mouthpiece, “One of these days, you and Jay will have to take on Harvey and I on the course. Army versus Marines.”
The music stopped and a voice began to speak, “Hey Pete, you old warhorse, what ya need?” Cappy grinned and moved his hand from the receiver, “Harv, I got a guy here I need to add to the payroll as a consultant, I need you to make it happen budget wise.”
“A consultant? Who you consulting with your bookie? I don’t have room in the budget for a package of peanuts and you want me to add a consultant fee to the budget? Have you lost what’s left of your mind?”
“Harv, it’s about the assaults; I need to create a profile on this guy and I need to do it yesterday. Make it happen, okay?”
Mayor Harvey J. Lehman, Esq. coughed and said, “You got it. What’s this guy’s name that you’re hiring?”
“Andrew Dane, LCSW; he’s a good man. Keep him listed as a consultant.” Cappy nodded at Dane.
“Okay, Pete, you got it; just get this scumbag off the street.” With that, the Mayor hung up and Cappy turned and looked at the two.
“Well, you heard the man, get your butts in gear. Jay, get Andy a desk here where he can work, get him a vest and get him down to HR. Welcome to the Evansville PD, Andy.” Cappy turned and went back to work on the reports piled up on his desk.
After he had been issued identification and a Kevlar vest, Dane called Vanessa at the office. "Van, what do I have on the books for today? Anything pressing?"
"You have a new intake from Independence; Sandra Huffman, just released last week; they scheduled this one as a priority."
"What time is her appointment?"
"Four, you want me to reschedule?" Van was sounding a bit perturbed.
"Nope, but I will be up here at the Police Department until the appointment, okay?" Dane asked, signing a waiver of liability.
"Okay boss, but... you owe me all the juicy details later."
"Why don't you and the family come over for dinner tonight? I'll fill everyone in at the same time okay?"
"Sounds good, I didn't want to cook anyway." Vanessa laughed as she hung up.
Andy then made a quick call to Mandy to give her the updated dinner plans; with a promise to pick something up on the way home he headed back to the detective squad room with Jay.

#

The group was small, four detectives, Dane and Cappy; by keeping the major players small in number, the idea was that they could control the information released to the media. Jay started the briefing.
"Alright folks, let's settle down here. We have a serious problem on our hands. In the last two months, four women have been attacked and sexually assaulted. Now, so far, we don't know if these attacks are separate or connected; however, we aren't going to wait until the last minute to chase this person or persons down.
Here's what we know so far, three out of four of the attacks happened in or around the victim’s homes, all four are women under the age of forty and none have children. They all work in different parts of town, live in different areas of the city and thus far, have no points of commonality other than their sex and relationship status; single. This guy is a non-secretor, we have no DNA, no prints and no ID. That, in a nutshell is all we know. Cappy?"
Captain Weinzapfel sat and looked at the other four a moment and said, "I want this SOB; I want him now. No leave, no vacations and no deaths until we have him locked in a cage small enough to give a flea the cramps. Jay is going to be running point on this one and we've brought in a profiler who is going to help us catch this clown. Dane, tell us what and who we need to be looking for."
"Well, Cappy; I really don't have any specifics for you yet. In general, this guy is probably not going to seem like mainstream Average Joe. He's gonna have some baggage. I would say there is a high likelihood that he has been or is being treated for one or more psychological problems; most likely he will have had some recent traumatic change in his life or lifestyle. Other than that, give me a day or two to look over the investigative reports and I will bring you all up to speed as soon as I am." Dane looked at the faces of the other men. "Oh, and one more thing; this person or these persons, they aren't going to stop yet; they are just warming up."
The interview with the new offender was a change of pace for Dane; Linda Hart was a thirty year old, who during the course of her relationship with Martin Hart, her husband, was involved in a sexual relationship with her minor step-son. According to Linda, the relationship was instigated and observed by Martin as a way to spice up their sex life; he would watch as she had vaginal and oral sex with his fourteen year old son.
Dane, fighting a sense of revulsion, wrapped the session reminding Linda that all lives were connected and that each ripple in our lives affected the ripples of others. Linda nodded understanding and left, stopping to schedule an appointment for the following week.