“Well, now you've had the Uncle Kevin experience” I laughed to Dennis as we walked back to our hotel.

“Did it live up to your expectations?” Mikey asked playfully.

Dennis just shook his head. “If I didn't experience it for myself, I'd swear you two were exaggerating” he laughed.

“Trust me. No one could make up uncle Kevin.” I chuckled

“Only God!” Mikey said.

“...or maybe the other guy?” Dennis raised one eyebrow. All three of us broke into guffaws.

“Thank God you had the presence of mind to call the hotel. If the barman hadn't taken Eoin's card, I don't know what we'd do! We could be washing dishes until next Christmas...”

“Or doing time in a Belgian prison...” Mikey smiled.

Dennis looked at Mikey “Do they even have Belgian prisons? It seems so ...quaint.”

“Let's not find out....” I smiled.

“I can see it now...” Mikey said. Uh oh. He was getting all fanboy again. He leapt in front of us, legs spread apart, arms reaching to the sky, stretching out an imaginary marquee. “Katherine Keller in..... Antwerp Express!”

I snorted out a laugh and slapped his arm playfully. Then I noticed everyone staring at us. I wasn't sure if they were staring at the boisterous fanboy acting out movie marquees or the lanky boy who just giggled and slapped his arm with the back of her hand. Either way, I didn't care to find out. We all just put our heads down and walked with great focus back to our hotel. I was counting each step until I could get out of this ridiculous disguise and relax.

My mind churned on that thought... 'This ridiculous disguise'. ...'This ridiculous L.C. Disguise.'

Wait. What?

Scowl.

When we finally got back to the hotel, I found I couldn't wait to wash the boy off.

“I need a serious soak!” I yelled to Dennis as I made a beeline for my suite.

“Amen girl!” Dennis laughed as he headed for his own room.

Instead of just filling the tub, I felt I really needed a 'Silkwood shower'.... I scrubbed and rubbed myself raw, thinking of Kevin and remembering all the things he had done to me and everyone else in the family. I wanted to scrub away any association with him. Finally I was red and raw and sobbing in the shower, and I suddenly could see myself as if I was outside myself. I thought 'snap out of it! It's his problem. Not yours. Don't beat yourself up. Screw him. You deserve better.' ...and with that, I stopped up the drain, got the bath oils and candles, and started filling the tub.

'Why marinate in misery when you can soak in splendor?' I thought to myself as I sank down into the delicious steaming water and watched the bubbles from my nose rise and burst on the surface.

It was a near spiritual experience, and sorely needed after the Kevin encounter. The near-scalding water made the tension in my neck and shoulders just melt away, and the sweet aroma of jasmine and citrus swept away any memory of that horrid body spray as the relaxing oils soaked into my pores.

I spent way too much time in the tub, and was really starting to prune when I reluctantly dragged myself out of the soothing waters and wrapped the quilted robe around me.

I lazily padded out into my bedroom and flipped open my laptop to catch up on the outside world.

Matt's email quickly snapped me out of my languid reverie.

Major breakthrough. Must talk. ASAP.

I was on Skype before I even stopped to think what time it was. Fortunately it was mid-afternoon in L.A. and Matt answered immediately. I think he'd been expecting my call.

“Katherine! … I mean Els... umm... are you alone?”

I laughed. “Katherine's fine. Yes I'm alone. But let's just keep it Katherine. I think that works best for all situations.”

“OK. Hey. I think I hit something big. I think I finally followed the right guy.”

“her agent?” he shook his head “...HauteShot's CFO?” more head shakes “marketing guy? Licensing? Legal counsel? web designer?” he kept shaking his head as his grin grew wider. “Who then? Her manicurist? Nutritionist? Her rabbi? ...gyno...?”

“SO close!” he laughed. This wasn't helping at all. I just gave him a lost look.

“Dale Coughlin!” he beamed.

“DOCTOR Dale?” I gaped at him with incredulity.

“The guy who keeps coming by to shoot me up with god-knows WHAT? THAT Dale Coughlin???”

He nodded, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“Oh my God. How? Where? What's going on? How is he holding her?”

“I'm not so sure that he is holding her. He has a lot of clients. He's a very busy dude. All on the west coast. But I noticed from his cellphone records at least two weekends a month, he's been checking in from the East coast. That seemed odd for him, so I looked closer. Tracked his GPS to New England. Then I had a guy who knows a guy send another guy to the places where Doctor Dale's cellphone pinged in. Check these out....”

And his webcam image in the Skype window was replaced by a series of photos of a figure in a bulky jacket, chinos, ball cap and sunglasses entering and leaving a house. Then some pictures of them puttering around the lawn, fiddling with the hedges and plants, and checking the mailbox.

“Just one person. Seemingly alone. No security. No minions. Nothing. Just one lone soul.”

I recognized that silhouette immediately. I saw it in the mirror every morning.

“Oh my GOD!” my hand flew to my mouth.

“Jackpot!” Matt crowed.