You’re not mom, so stop acting like her!’ Yeah, if I was my mom I’d probably fight him for the bottle. ‘I’m tired. Don’t let the kids see ...he bottle or see you drunk. Good night.’ He cursed at me as I climbed up to my floor. I collapsed into bed and felt miserably alone. # By Monday I felt better. I had bruises but I was no longer stiff and I went to work with grim determination. We had to strip the Camaro down, remove serial numbers, anything that would identify it. Our man at the DMV could. Since Karen died, my music hobby had fallen by the wayside. I got in the alley that ran behind the diner so I remained hidden from the Cycle Shop. I paused behind the diner and called the Alexandria Police Department and left a message for Detective Roux – "GPS device installed. Tell me when you want its data. Regards, Jim."That afternoon I had to wait on a really cantankerous stereotypical southern gentleman at the counter. Everything I did to please him seemed to lead to a complaint or gripe. More

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