Saturday, November 21, 2009

Understanding Juliet...

It’s 2:25 a.m. in the morning and I can’t sleep.

I mean I’ve tried.

Every time I close my eyes I see visions of Nick.

The way he always smiled before he kissed me or the way he would shake his long hair like a wet dog in the shower or the look on his face when he was wearing his evil smirk or the way the sun would hit his chocolate brown eyes just right and I swear I could see right into his soul.

I can still hear his soft laugh, feel the touch of his lips as they would brush against mine, hear the way his heart would beat when he slept and smell his scent of Sandalwood in our bedroom.

Those are the kinds of things I remember and why I can’t sleep.

I miss him so much and I am profoundly sad.

Most of the time my heart feels like it’s about to burst inside my chest and it physically hurts. My soul feels completely empty.

I fully understand now why Juliet picked up the dagger…

It wasn’t meant to take her life but to take away her pain.

Friday, November 20, 2009

Mr. H. Lays Down The Law...

When you piss my lion off…look out!

Early afternoon on Tuesday, May 26…

The phone rang while Nick and I were eating lunch.

“Nick…it’s for you!” I smiled and handed him the phone.

“For me?” he held the phone to his chest and looked at me strangely.

The conversation (at least his end of it)…

“Hello?” he answered.

“Yes, sir. This is he.”

“Yes, sir.” Nick got up from the table and sat down on the couch.

Long pause…

“Sir, I turned in my report before I left. Everything you need to know and are askin’ me about is in it. How'd you get this number?”

Long pause again…

“Sir, I don’t mean no disrespect to you but you listen to me for one minute. In the twelve years I’ve worked for you folks I’ve given you everything I got! Now I put in for fifteen days off, I need it, I believe I’ve earned it and I expect you to respect that! What’s important to ME RIGHT NOW is I NEED to spend some time with my new wife and our little girl.”

Pause…

“Well now I guess if you think it’s that important maybe you should climb on out from behind your nine to five desk job and your suit and try doin’ what I do for a while! Read the report! I’ll be back to work in eleven days. We can discuss it then!”

Pause…

“Don’t you call here again! You have a real nice day!”

He hung up.

“Everything…ok, honey?” I asked.

He let out a tirade of cursing in Spanish for about three minutes and then smiled.

“Everything’s fine, baby!” He kissed me on the cheek and sat back down to finish his lunch.


Something to note: The man NEVER called again.

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Covering Mexico’s Cartel Wars Puts Journalists In The Line Of Fire

By Mayra Cuevas-Nazario, CNN
November 19, 2009

(CNN) -- Lucio Soria is a recorder of the dead in Ciudad Juarez's drug cartel war.

"El Sorias," as he is affectionately called by his colleagues, is a photojournalist for the Mexican city's two main daily newspapers, El Diario and El PM. For the last 10 years, his job has been to photograph the bodies and crime scenes left behind after cartel hit men completed their work.

"I see the photos of the dead as art, not as dead people. I feel sad for the families, they cry and sometimes I cry too," Soria told CNN in a recent telephone interview.

"My record is 16 dead in one shift."

A regular shift goes from 6 a.m. to 2 p.m., or later if there are any last-minute bodies. The day is spent listening to police scanners and waiting for the code that will send Soria and a reporter rushing through the city's congested streets to a new crime scene.

"Z-59 is the code for execution and Z-23 is the code for a dead person," he said.

Soria knows that arriving at a crime scene too soon could mean a surprise encounter with the killers -- one that could cost him his life.

He is part of a group of journalists operating in one of the world's most dangerous cities. Every day the passion for their profession competes with the fear of death.

The New York-based Committee to Protect Journalists reports that 26 journalists have been killed since 2005 in Mexico -- most of them while covering the crime or corruption beats. By comparison, 10 journalists were killed in the same time period while covering the war in Afghanistan.

"There are challenges to the fulfillment of our mission, challenges we have never faced before," said Rocio Gallegos, the editor of El Diario, the city's main news publication, with a circulation of 55,000.

"Any journalist in Ciudad Juarez is at risk," she said.

For the paper's staffers, death hit home last year with the murder of veteran crime reporter Armando "El Cholo" Rodriguez.

On November 13, 2008, unidentified gunmen shot and killed Rodriguez, 40, while he was parked in front of his house with his 8-year-old daughter in the car; she was not harmed.

Rodriguez had been receiving threats since February, Gallegos said.

One year later, no one has been charged in his death, and the two lead federal investigators in the case have also been killed. A spokesperson for the attorney general's office told CNN the case is still under investigation, but local journalists have interpreted this as a grant of impunity for crimes against their profession.

"The death of Armando Rodriguez left a clear message for everyone: Mind your own business! 'No te metas en donde no debes,'" said Edgar Roman, director of news programming for Channel 44, which broadcasts more than six hours of news each day.

"Our self-censorship began when the war started -- self-censorship to avoid getting our reporters in trouble," said Roman.

For Roman, and for several others in his position, investigative reporting has become a casualty of war.

"We can't investigate because we become targets. Only that which happens in plain view is OK to report," said Roman.

"Everyone knows the rules of the game," said Ricardo Ainslie, professor of educational psychology at the University of Texas in Austin and a member of the Lozano Long Institute of Latin American Studies.

For the last year, Ainslie has been using Ciudad Juarez as the center for his research on the Mexican war against the drug cartels.

"You can report what happens on the street, which is public domain, and sometimes they will get threats if they don't report something," Ainslie said. "They can't report backstories, or make inferences about motives. They are treading lightly because they can not afford to investigate -- this means execution."

Tim Crockett, head of the security firm Pioneer Consulting and security adviser for CNN, described Ciudad Juarez as "probably more dangerous for journalists than the Middle East."

"There are more armed groups that have no respect for law and order," he said. "What would they do if they captured a journalist? There is no leverage. They will just kill you and carry on with their business."

Figuring out how to keep staffers safe from an attack has been an ongoing challenge for newsrooms in Juarez. Armored vehicles and bulletproof vests provide little protection against the .50-caliber bullets fired by the cartels.

El Diario has managed to keep some investigative reporting by omitting reporter bylines. For Gallegos, self-censorship is not the answer.

"We have kept our investigation, which has cost us because we have less access to government sources," Gallegos said. "With the argument of security, authorities have given us less access to information and documents," she said.

"The biggest challenge is to carry out our mission to inform the public without renouncing to our independence from the authorities, and without becoming messengers to the cartels," said Gallegos.

Cartels have begun to time their executions to coincide with live newscasts, journalists say.

Channel 44 evaluates its programming by holding bimonthly focus groups. Roman said his audience has gone from being spectators to being the victims.

"People are asking us to show a city with hope, and not a city of desolation and destruction. People are tired of living like this. Despite all the violence, there are people who want to keep living a normal life," he said.

El PM is the paradox. The newspaper has a daily circulation of 70,000 to 75,000, and normally sells out within two hours of hitting the stands. The main cover picture is usually a bloody crime scene. Some describe it as a "listing" for the day's dead.

"You cannot cover the sun with one finger; we say it like it is. We give it a human side and the raw side," said editor Alejandro Tellez.

"We live in a city where you go to the streets and you walk into yellow tape and then you come to us to find out what has happened," said Tellez.

Ainslie said his research has shown that violence is part of the fabric of daily life in Ciudad Juarez.

"Everybody is living it," he said. "Everybody is seeing it. It is in every part of the city. ... Do you not report it because people are worn down and there seems to be no end?"

Ainslie added that he was also struck by the difference in the reporting across the border in Ciudad Juarez's U.S. sister city, El Paso, Texas. On one day, he recalled, El Diario carried 15 cartel-related stories, including three or four on the front page. The El Paso Times carried three cartel stories.

Angela Kocherga is one of the few American journalists reporting from Ciudad Juarez on a weekly basis. She said the coverage of the cartel war by American news organizations has been sporadic at best.

"Afghanistan, Iraq are important stories, but Mexico gets lost in the mix day in and day out. The impact on the border is ignored. There is an entire generation being wiped out. ... It's just festering and festering and it's out of control. Ignoring it is not going to make it go away," she said.

For some journalists in Ciudad Juarez, it has become a life's mission to tell the world about this war and to write their country's history.

Soria feels he left his mark when, on October 20, he photographed the 2,000th victim of the cartel war.

His shift was nearly over that day, and the body count stood at 1,996.

"I told my reporter, 'Well, I guess I'm not going to get the 2,000.' Then I heard on the scanner that there were three dead and the address was really close to where we were. That day we reached 2001 dead," he said.

"When I arrived, the military and the police where putting up the crime tape. The parents were hugging and holding each other. I wanted to record history, so that everyone would remember that moment. We are the ones keeping a log of the dead. I want to be remembered as the one who took that photo," said Soria.

Soria's photo tells the story of hundreds of families in Juarez. It shows two family members hugging and a third one crying over the body of one of the men killed, with the police as onlookers.

A Nice Pair of Archangels!

“Archangels always walk in pairs,” the priest said.

This pair of .9mm Archangels work for me! ;)

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

"I love you."

September 2008…

“You wanna take pictures of us?” Nick smiled at Mary.

“Yeah, if that’s ok with you, Nick!” Mary replied.

“Clothes on or clothes off?” he smirked at her.

Mary and I giggled.

“Let’s go for clothes off as nature intended!” he smiled and pulled his t-shirt off.

She set up her tripod and camera equipment in our bedroom.

“Come on, Viv!” he smirked at me and crawled under the covers.

“You guys do whatever you’re comfortable doing in front of a camera,” Mary smiled and started clicking away.

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Of Priests and Archangels...

“You don’t believe in all this, do you?” the young priest said quietly as he walked up behind me. I had been standing in the front of the church looking up at the Crucifix.

“Nope! I don’t!” I replied and turned around.

“And yet you’re here,” he smiled.

Something the priest said to me on Sunday irked me. I couldn’t get his words out of my head.

“You’re his Angel,” he said. “Now I understand your reluctance towards the confessional”.

I don’t know why it bothered me. It just did. Last night I felt the need to confront him about his statements on Sunday.

“JD believes in all this. For some reason he calls me ‘Angel’. I’m sure you know that. I’m sure he told you that at some point during his confessions.” I stated very curtly.

The priest looked at me strangely and motioned to the front pew offering a seat.

We sat down.

“What a parishioner tells us during his or her confession is completely confidential. I fear I’ve said something to you to make you believe he said something about you. In all honesty, I don’t recall him ever giving me a name.”

“Then why did you say ‘You’re his Angel’? That’s his nickname for me.”

“I was referring to God. You’re God’s Angel.”

“I see,” I sighed. “Look, I can tell you from my life experiences, I’m pretty sure your God doesn’t want me around let alone in a church!”

“Why would you believe that?”

“Long story, Father. I just wanted to come here tonight and have you understand that my ‘reluctance’ to go to confession has nothing to do with JD, ok? That’s all I wanted you to know.” I began to stand up and walk away.

“You’re every bit his Angel!” he chuckled.

I stopped and turned around.

“You’re obviously dying to explain this to me so go ahead. Explain to me what you mean by that.”

He, once again, motioned for me to have a seat with him.

Reluctantly, I sat down.

“You used to believe, didn’t you? Something happened to make you stop. All your life you’ve felt like you don’t fit in. You’ve always felt like an outsider looking in and that frightens you.”

I chuckled. “Nothing frightens me anymore. Psychology 101, Father? Can’t you do any better than that?”

“Do you believe in Angels?” he asked.

“Nope!” I replied.

“You have a lot of anger inside you.”

“I do when people waste my time. Get to your point.” I stood up and crossed my arms over my chest.

“My point is for those of us who believe, we can recognize an Angel when we see one. You were an easy Angel to spot.”

“No wings on me, Father! Don’t believe in your God! Explain to me how you think that makes me his Angel?”

He smiled at me.

“Because you have a sword and a strong sense of justice which is also easy to recognize in my line of work.”

I suddenly felt off balance.

I’ve always referred to my self-defense mechanisms as my “fiery sword and shield”. There’s no way this priest could have known that!

I sat down again.

“When I told you you are among friends here, I meant me. I see visions as you do. I’ve had them all my life. I don’t tell many people because they have a tendency to think I’m eccentric. I usually keep that little secret to myself,” he smiled.

“You?!” I was stunned by his admission.

“I’ll prove it to you, if you like. May I?” He took my hand and closed his eyes.

“You’re deeply troubled,” he said quietly.

“Gee - you didn’t need to hold my hand to figure out that! Ask anyone who knows me!” I snickered.

“It’s about your husband. You believe he’s alive but you’ve been told he isn’t. You think he’s hiding in a place with sand.”

My jaw dropped!

“I don’t see him in the sense of hiding so much as I do hidden. He’s hidden away somewhere,” he finished.

He opened his eyes and blinked them a few times.

“How? How did you know that?!” I looked at him awestruck.

“The very same way I’m sure you do,” he smiled and released my hand.

I sat there quietly for a moment.

“You and he are alike in every way save one – your sex. You’re equally matched. You were drawn together by mutual visions.”

“How did you know that?!”

He smiled. “I’ve already told you.”

“We had dreams about each other for a long time and then we met one day at JD’s pool. I didn’t know the man in my visions was JD’s brother. I thought it was someone else. My visions usually come to me in dreams,” I responded.

I still couldn’t get over the things he was saying to me and how accurate he was.

“He’s a non-believer as well.”

“That’s true! Father, he’s seen too much in this world.”

“I’ve always believed my visions come from God. It’s why I became a priest. As a non-believer, where do you believe yours come from?”

“Good question. I don’t know. My mom has them too. I assume I got them from her. Like mother – like daughter and I'm exactly like her!” I smiled.

He simply smiled at me.

“Listen, can you tell JD you have these visions too? He calls mine ‘voodoo’. He never believes me when I tell him about things I’ve seen in dreams!”

“He doesn’t believe in our ‘voodoo’. Not many do,” he shook his head. “Neither of us will be able to convince him otherwise. It’s best we keep it to ourselves.”

“Oh,” I sighed.

“Follow your visions when it comes to your husband. Look to your dreams. I believe you will find the answers you’re looking for.”

“Thank you, Father,” I smiled at him and stood up.

As I began to walk up the aisle towards the exit, the priest asked me one more question.

“Does your husband carry a sword and a strong sense of justice as well?”

I tuned around, smiled and replied, “A gun, Father. He wields a gun, a badge and a knife.”

“Archangels always walk in pairs. They live and die together. Remember that!” he smiled.


I really don’t know what to make of the conversation I had with the priest. I tape recorded it, as I do most of my conversations, and transcribed it here. I must have listened to it ten times last night trying to unravel the mystery of it.

I still can’t get over the accuracy of the things he said to me. There isn’t any way he could have simply pulled those facts out of thin air. The only explanation I have is he must share my ‘voodoo’.

Maybe I’m not so crazy after all…

Monday, November 16, 2009

Confession and Exhibits...

When we returned to my house after church and brunch, curiosity about what the priest said got the better of me.

Ashlee ran downstairs to change and Fox was getting ready to leave.

“Fox? Could you stick around for a little while? I’d like to talk with you.”

“Ok,” he smiled, took his suit jacket off and hung it over one of my dining room chairs. He sat down on the couch and loosened his tie.

“Mommy? Can I go to Claire’s now?” Ashlee smiled when she came back upstairs.

“Sure, honey! Have Q take you over, ok?” I smiled at her.

She walked over and hugged Fox tightly and then she hugged me.

“Bye!” she waived and walked out the front door.

“You said you’d like to talk with me?” Fox smiled at me.

“How long has that priest been at your church?”

“He was here the first time I moved here. Why?” he asked.

“Fox, did you tell him…you know, intimate details about our relationship when you were in the confessional?”

He looked at me sheepishly, looked down at the floor and shook his head. He looked back up at me and smiled.

“It’s called ‘Confession’ for a reason. What you talk about with a priest isn’t repeated to anyone. It’s private.”

“I understand that, but did you?”

“Yes, I may have. Why?” he asked.

“Fox…do you believe what we did - the things we did together – do you really believe those things were a sin?”

A big smirk registered on his face, he leaned back and stretched both his arms out across the back of the sofa.

“We did some pretty sinful things together, you and I, Angel!” he chuckled.

“Name one.”

He laughed and threw his head back.

“Oh God! She wants to know on a Sunday even! All right! The bar in Kansas City!” he smiled.

“You said you thought that was hot!”

“We made love in a public place, Angel, and it WAS hot!”

“So…how does that qualify as a sin?”

“Someone could have seen us!” he smiled.

“But they didn’t!”

“It falls under the category of Lust!” he replied very matter of fact.

I just sat there and looked at him.

“Who’s lust was it? Yours or mine? I’m not clear about this.” I gave him a look.

“You initiated it that night!” he smirked.

“You could have said no!”

“No man in his right mind would have said ‘no’ to an offer like that!” he chuckled.

“So it’s MY fault. I’M the sinner.”

“We both were on many, many occasions together, Angel,” he smiled at me.

“Doesn’t it seem the least bit hypocritical to you? I mean, since when is having sex with someone you love a sin?”

Fox’s smile disappeared and he gave me the strangest look.

“What did you just say?” he asked me.

“I asked you if it doesn’t seem hypocritical to say having sex with someone you love is a sin and wrong. Sex IS in the bible, right?”

He just kept looking at me.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” I finally asked.

“Ummm…please come sit down on the couch with me for a minute.” He patted the seat next to him.

I got up out of the chair I was sitting in and sat down next to him.

“What, Fox?”

He turned to me, slid his hands on my cheeks, held my face firmly and looked me right in the eyes.

“Did you just tell me you were in love with me when we went to Kansas City that weekend? Don’t lie to me, Angel. You are a terrible liar!”

“I…” I kept diverting my eyes. Every time I did he forced me to look at him.

“You waited MONTHS to tell me and you already were?!”

“Fox…”

“WHY?! Why did you wait so long to tell me?!”

“Because…because I…I didn’t actually know I was, I guess!” I replied

Fox told me the very first time we had sex he was in love with me. It was at least five months after that before I told him I was in love with him. It really upset him that I wouldn’t tell him. He finally forced me to. I was confused about many things in my life at that time and I honestly didn’t know I was in love with him.

“Angel…do you still love me?” He looked at me intensely.

“Fox, please don’t do this!” I pleaded with him.

“Tell me!”

I wouldn’t respond.

He let go of my face and smiled at me. The former investigator inside him took over.

“Exhibit A: The necklace I gave you for Christmas.” He ran his finger across the pearls on the necklace.

“Exhibit B: The dress you wore the day of my sister’s wedding.”

“Exhibit C…” he slid his hand against my upper thigh and raised the hem of my skirt a bit. “And the ummm…the…the garter belt I gave you for ummm…for Valentine’s Day.” He was now focused on the lace at the top of my stocking.

“Fox…”

“I’d say you are guilty as charged of still loving me, Angel!” he looked up at me and smirked. “You don’t need to confess your sin. I already know it!” He gave me this unbelievably cocky look.

I thought really hard about smacking him upside the head and how much I would enjoy doing it but decided to take a deep, cleansing breath instead.

“The one and ONLY Exhibit, idiot!” I held up my left hand. “The ring your brother gave to me the day I married HIM! You might want to make note I married HIM - NOT YOU!” I gave him a look.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

"You're his Angel."

When Fox showed up to take Ashlee to church this morning, he found both of us dressed up and ready to go.

He looked…shocked and surprised.

I smiled up at him.

“Ashlee asked me to go with you two this morning. I hope that’s ok?”

“You’re wearing the dress you wore for Mary’s wedding.” He smiled and looked me up and down.

I had put on the pale pink sheath dress I had worn the day his sister and Ronnie got married.

“It’s the only thing I own that’s not black!” I chuckled. “If it’s not the right thing to wear, I can change,” I replied nervously.

“No!” he smiled. “You look…so very pretty like this!” He touched the pink rhinestone barrette I had put in my hair to hold the front curl out of my face. He noticed I was wearing the pale pink pearl necklace I had also worn the day of the wedding. It was a gift he had given to me the first year we dated.

I nervously looked at the floor.

“Are you ready to go, sweetheart?” he asked Ashlee with a big smile.

“Yes!” she smiled up at him and took his hand.

“You look very pretty today too! I like your new dress.”


I took a deep breath as we were getting out of the car in front of the church.

Ashlee smiled at me and took my hand. Then she reached up and took Fox’s hand. In the middle and pulling on our hands, she quickly led us inside.

When we went to take our seats, Ashlee moved around Fox. She had decided she would sit on one side of him and I would sit on the other. She looked around him and smiled at me.

I sat there quietly when the service began. I was fidgeting with my hands together. Fox reached over, gently placed his hand over the top of my hands and smiled at me.

I looked over and noticed Ashlee was holding his other hand. She was busily trying to see over the couple in front of her. I took another deep breath and calmed down.

The service seemed longer than it should be. I began to feel restless. I almost prayed for it to be over – almost.

As the service ended and we got up to leave, several people approached Ashlee and Fox and talked with them.

I hung out behind both of them and patiently waited.

“You’re his Angel,” a voice from behind me whispered.

I turned around and found the young priest I’d met before standing behind me.

“Now I understand your reluctance towards the confessional,” he smiled into an almost smirk.

I think I actually blushed.

“It’s all right. You’re among friends here in God’s house,” he smiled again and walked away.

The first thought that ran through my mind was, “Oh shit! What sort of lurid details did Fox tell this guy about us?”

My second thought was, “No. Fox wouldn’t do that. And if he did, the priest would have been burned to a crisp by now.”

I actually chuckled.

Fox turned around and smiled at me.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I smiled back at him.

“May I take you two to bunch? You both look so pretty today it would be shame not to take you both out and show you off!”

“All right,” I smiled at him as he put my coat on me.

Saturday, November 14, 2009

Is It Guilty In Here?

September 2008…

(Fox had open-heart surgery on August 29th. His parents drove him to his sister Mary’s house to recuperate for a few weeks because he wasn’t allowed to fly home. He arrived three days after I returned from Mexico.)

Nick and I decided we were not going to lie about our involvement we were just not going to display it. We both felt it was best to wait to tell Fox when he was fully recovered.

Fox was asleep on his back when I walked into Mary’s guest room. I was going to slip back out of the room but his dad told me it was ok to stay. He walked out of the room and left me alone with Fox.

I sat down in the chair next to the bed and looked at him. He looked so peaceful sleeping.

“Angel?” I heard a groggy voice ask. “Is that you?”

“It’s me. How are you?”

He tried to sit up and winced in pain.

I stood up and put my hand gently on his shoulder. “You stay put, honey. Don’t try to sit up.”

He lay back down. I handed him his Clark Kent glasses that were on the bedside table.

“Do you want to see it?” he asked and pointed to his chest.

I carefully pulled the sheet down and looked at his new scar.

“Impressive!” I smiled. “Doesn’t look nearly as bad as you thought it would, does it? That reminds me, I bought some cream for you to use on the scar once you get the staples out. I’ve heard it’s the best out there.”

He smiled. “How are you? I’ve missed you, sweetheart!”

“I’m good.”

“Where’s Ashlee? Isn’t she with you?”

“I thought it would be would be best if I came over to see you alone tonight. I wanted to make sure you were all right and see if you need anything.”

He took my hand in his. “Angel, I want you to know I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for lying to you about my drinking. It was…”

I put my other hand on top of his. “Let’s not talk about that now. You need to get better then we can talk about things, ok?”

“I haven’t talked to you for awhile. What have you been doing?”

“Oh, you know…just…stuff.” I looked away when I said it. Why do always say that?! I just can’t lie to him, that’s why.

“Just stuff?” He gave me a funny look. Just then the door opened.

“Looks like you lived!” Nick chuckled.

“Nick?! What are you doing here?” Fox was genuinely surprised to see him.

“Big brother had heart surgery – no small thing. Thought I’d best check on you and make sure you were doin’ ok.”

“I can’t believe you came all this way! Where are you staying?”

“In town,” Nick smiled.

“My sister probably has room for you here. You don’t need to go to the expense of a hotel.”

“How ya doing, Jack?” He asked pulling a chair over right next to mine. He noticed Fox was holding my hand.

Is it guilty in here? I suddenly felt horribly uncomfortable.

“Fox, do you need anything? Some water maybe?” Best diversion I could come up with.

“A glass of water would be great. Thank you, Angel. You do love me!” He smiled and kissed my hand.


I walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water. Mary leaned over the kitchen counter and handed me a straw.

“How’s it going in there?” She had a big smirk on her face.

“Oh…you know…like walking barefoot slowly on hot coals and shards of broken glass. You didn’t say anything to Fox about Nick and I did you?” I whispered.

“No way! It’s none of his business! You two broke up. I really, really like Nick! He’s PERFECT for you! I’m not saying a word!” she smiled.

“Thank you, Mary! I want to tell him myself once he’s fully recovered. I’m going back in. Wish me luck!” I grimaced.


“Here you go, Fox.”

He tried to sit up again and again winced in pain.

“Let me help you,” Nick said. He gently pulled Fox’s shoulders forward and shoved some extra pillows in behind him. “That better?”

“Yes, much better. Thanks!”

“Can you hold this glass yourself or do you need help?” I asked.

“I can do it myself,” he smiled. I handed him the glass.

I sat down. Nick sat down next to me and put his arm around the back of my chair.

“What have you been up to, Nick?” Fox asked.

“Spent some time on a beach with a girl,” he smirked.

I suddenly felt an intense wave of panic come over me.

“A girl? Nick, you didn’t tell me you had a girl! What’s she like?” Fox smiled.

“She’s real nice. Fun! Mouthy sometimes – likes to have things her way. You know how it is!” He reached down and snapped the back of my bra.

“Sounds like her!” Fox chuckled.

“Doesn’t it just?” Nick smirked.

I thought I was going to die right on the spot!

“You should invite her to my place. I’d like to meet her when I’m better!” Fox smiled.

I panicked.

“I should go and let you two catch up. I’ll come back tomorrow.” I stood up and Fox gently grabbed my hand.

“Please don’t leave, Angel! Please? I’d really like you to stay a while longer. I haven’t seen you for so long,” he smiled.

I shot a glance of “Please help me!” at Nick.

Nick stood up. “Tell ya what, I’ve got some things to do so I’ll let you two catch up. I’ll stop by later. Nice to see you’re doing ok, Jack. I’ll be in town for a few days.” He gently shook Fox’s hand.

“Viv, always a pleasure! Let’s do lunch!” He smirked at me and walked out of the room.


When I got back to my place an hour later, I slammed the door behind me.

“Let’s do lunch?!” I looked at Nick and crossed my arms over my chest.

“Let’s do lunch! Isn’t that what you indoor types say?” he chuckled.

I threw my hands up in the air.

Friday, November 13, 2009

The Almost Nooner...

“What do you want to do for lunch today, Red?” the call from Chad began today.

“I want to fog up your glasses, mess up your hair and get nasty.”

“Are you drinkin’ at work?” he chuckled.

“No. You asked what I wanted to do for lunch. That’s what I want to do.”

“Red!” he laughed.

“Please, Chad?” I asked.

“Honey, we can’t do that! You’ll hate yourself and later me for takin’ advantage of you when you’re feelin’ like this!”

“Take advantage of me, Chad. Please take advantage of me! I need…I think I’m in heat!”

“Besides which, Red, you know I only shoot blanks!” he chuckled.

“As long as you know how to lock and load, I don’t care what you’re shooting, honey!” I replied.

“You’re serious?!”

“Yes I’m serious! I almost grabbed some guy on the elevator this morning!” I replied.

“I’ll see you at your house in ten minutes or less!” he quickly hung up.


“Red?” he hollered when he walked into my house.

“In the kitchen, honey!”

I was sitting on the kitchen counter smiling at him when he walked in.

“Red…” he paused and started pacing in my kitchen.

“Now I’ve been thinkin’ about this all the way over here.” He stopped pacing and put my face in hands. I wrapped my boots around his legs.

“Honey, you don’t want me or any other man. I know that! I’d just be a stand in for who you do want! Red, you gotta know by now – God, I love you and I want you…Damn! I do want you SO bad!” He kissed me.

“But…if I let my stallion out of the barn again with you, he’s never gonna go back in and there will be HELL to pay with my ex! I can’t…I can’t do this! You’re not like those other women I’ve been with. You…you’re a keeper, Red, and I…I can’t keep you now matter how much I want to! Do you understand?”

“Yeah, I understand,” I smiled an embarrassed smile at him. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you.”

“I’m honored you asked me.” He hugged me tightly and then pulled back and smiled at me.

“Try this!” I smiled at him, opened a small mason jar, dipped my finger in it and put my finger in his mouth.

“Good god! What is that heavenly stuff?” he asked and licked his lips.

“Caramel Apple Jam. My blog reader Teresa made it and sent it to me. You like it?”

“Damn that’s good!” He stuck his finger in the jar, took out a finger full and put his mouth.

“Pity we can’t do this. I was going to let you spread it all over me at lunch for multiple Cinnamon Girl!” I smirked at him.

He froze in place with his finger in his mouth.

“Oh, look at the time! I have to go back to work. Thanks for coming over, honey. Have a good day!” I smiled, hopped off the counter and kissed him on the cheek.

I walked into the living room to put my coat on. I suddenly heard this loud, repetitive banging noise.

When I walked back into the kitchen, he was banging his head on my refrigerator.

“Chad?” I chuckled.

“I hate my life!” he repeated over and over.

“Oh come on, honey. It’s not that bad! You have minions, remember?” I chuckled and wrapped my arm around his and walked him to his car.


Actually, I’m really glad and so grateful he turned me down. He’s right. I still love and really want to make love with Nick and can’t have him. I would have hated myself later for using Chad like that. Chalk it up to a really bad case of severe loneliness on my part.

Thank you, Chad, for setting me straight and being my friend.

And Teresa…I’ll need to buy a case of that jam for Christmas! It is DAMN good! :)

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Mexico leaders call for UN help in Ciudad Juarez

Wed Nov 11, 8:23 pm ET

WASHINGTON (AFP) – Local leaders in Ciudad Juarez have asked for UN peacekeepers to help stem the alarming bloodshed in their city that is chasing business across the border to Texas, their representatives have said.

Despite the deployment of 8,500 troops since February, more than 2,000 people have been killed so far this year in drug-related crimes, making Ciudad Juarez one of the world's most violent urban areas, business leaders told a press briefing Wednesday.

The city's Association of Maquiladoras (assembly plants) said it had requested "the intervention of United Nations blue helmets (peacekeepers) to control" the crime wave, said association president Soledad Maynez.

She said the failure of federal and local authorities in staunching the bloodshed prompted local business leaders to approach the United Nations for help.

"We must allow military police from the United Nations and the United States to tackle crime here, since in addition to murders there's also a lot of kidnapping and blackmail," which have led to some 6,000 business closings in the city, said National Chamber of Commerce regional president Daniel Murguia.

He said the violence has prompted business leaders to live and invest across the US border in El Paso, Texas, where they enjoy greater safety.

The northern state of Chihuahua, of which Ciudad Juarez is the largest city, is at the heart of wave of suspected drug-related violence that has left some 14,000 dead since the end of 2006.

President Felipe Calderon deployed some 50,000 security forces across the country after he took office in December 2006, in a controversial crackdown that has failed to stem violence from powerful drug cartels.

"Time me!"

Sunday morning, November 8…

“Now where were we?” I smiled at Chad.

Chad was on all fours on the floor in front of me looking at the spreadsheet he’s made.

“Well, the only time we can’t account for is the walk from the hotel to the bowlin’ alley. We’re guessin’ he walked, right?”

“I know he did. He liked to walk and it wasn’t far,” I replied.

“Ok! Let’s test the time theory out. Let’s get outside and walk it,” Chad smiled.

He handed me the Rolex I had given him as a Christmas gift one year. “Time me!” he smiled.

We started walking the distance Nick would have had to walk crossing only one street, as he would have had to do.

“How’d we do?” he asked.

“Two minutes thirty four seconds,” I replied. “Depending if he was in a hurry or not, his stride might have been longer. His legs are a couple of inches longer than yours.”

“All right. Let’s try it as if Nick were in a hurry,” Chad smiled, quickened his pace and increased the length of his stride.

“Two minutes eight seconds that time.”

“Let’s say it’s two minutes and sixteen seconds – give or take. Do they have any street or traffic cameras in Juarez? Maybe they caught him walkin’ to the bowlin’ alley on tape.”

“I…I never thought to ask. That’s brilliant, Chad! I’ll ask Avery. He’ll know!”

I grabbed my cell phone and made the call.

“Yeah?” a man answered loudly.

“Avery?” I asked.

I heard peals of feminine giggling in the background.

“Viv? Yeah, it’s me! How are you, darlin’?”

“Am I…interrupting something, Avery?” I giggled quietly to myself.

“Nope! Just finished up!” he chuckled. I heard him say something in Spanish to whoever was with him. “What can I do for you this fine mornin’?”

“You bad boy! Do you have a woman there with you?” I teased him.

“That’s an affirmative! Actually…two, ma’am!” he chuckled.

I started laughing.

“Well! My goodness me! You are a VERY busy bad boy! Maybe I should call you later?” I laughed.

“They’re just leavin’! What can I do for you, darlin’?”

“Can you get your hands on a tape for me?”

I explained to him I wanted to see if Nick had been caught on a street or traffic camera at any point during his walk to the bowling alley.

“For you, Viv, I’ll do whatever it takes!” I could hear his smile on the phone.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

"You can count on me, darlin'!"

Sunday August 23, 2009: A conversation with Avery in my living room.

“I’m the one who gave him the nickname ‘Slick Nick’. You know that cocky rascal. He added the rest!” Avery chuckled.

“You shoulda seen him in action, Viv. He was the bravest son of a bitch I’ve ever known! He’d go into ALL the places we were told not to. He had some kinda gut sense 'bout things and he always followed it. Did you know he preferred hand to hand combat? Said it was more ‘gentlemanlike’. Can’t tell you how many times he got himself black and blue and knifed in the process of bein’ ‘gentlemanlike’.” He chuckled again and shook his head.

“Me and Nick - we were the only two Southern boys in our unit. We stuck together tighter than fleas on a dog’s back.”

“I wish I could have known him then,”
I smiled at Avery.

“You and every other woman we came across. Nick would strut into a town and the local fauna - well now, they’d throw themselves at his feet. He was a soldier first, Viv. Always. I’m not sayin’ he didn’t partake of the ladies like the rest of us – just not often. He was too busy bein’ in love with that guitar of his!” Avery smiled.

“Bout four years ago, ol’ Nick he…somethin’ ‘bout him changed. He told me one day he’d been dreamin’ ‘bout this one particular woman. He kept to himself after that. Never saw him with any woman after that till he met you. You know what he told me when he met you? He said, ‘She’s the one I’ve been dreamin’ about! This one is full of fire! Make note, Avery, she’s gonna save my life one day’.”

I looked down at the floor.

“I think you did, Viv. Nick, he loved you so! He’d have given up anything you asked him to. I’d never seen a man so happy. After he met you he was always walkin’ ‘round with this big stupid grin on his face! That was ‘cause of you, darlin’. You did that to him. You made him happy. You were the best thing that ever happened to that man!” Avery put his arm around my neck, pulled me in close to him and kissed my cheek.

“Now, I promised Nick if anything happened to him I’d look out for ya. You can count on me, darlin’! Anything you and that sweet little girl of yours needs – you just let me know.”

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Accusing Fox...

On the evening of October 31st when I told Fox in the car what the Feds wanted to know, he was furious with me.

“YOU WENT INTO JUAREZ?! ARE YOU SUICIDAL?! WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME WHAT YOU WERE DOING?!”

He yelled at me for a solid ten minutes until he literally ran out of breath. He pulled his inhaler for his asthma out of his coat pocket and took a deep breath of the medication.

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” he asked a little more calmly this time.

“Why didn’t you tell me you and Nick got into an argument the day before he left?” I asked quietly.

He just sat there looking stunned.

“Q told me he’d overheard it and it’s on the surveillance video from inside my house.”

“It was nothing,” he replied and started the car.

“It sure didn’t sound like nothing on the tape. Fox, you threatened him!”

He wouldn’t say another word.

“Please take me home now.” I directed him.

Once we got inside, I paid the sitter who stayed with Ashlee and started to remove parts of my costume.

“Angel, I think we should talk about this,” Fox stated and sat down on the couch.

“Talk about what? The fact you threatened to kill your brother? Twice in my presence and once the day before he left and a week before he was killed in Juarez? You wrote ‘Cain and Abel’ on the back of a photograph I gave you of the two of you! What’s there to talk about, Fox? I understand perfectly! You think he took something from you and you want it back!”

“Keep your voice down, Angel! Ashlee will hear your accusations!”

“She’s already heard you say it once right in front of her! It’s no secret in this household!” I shouted at him.

“You’re…you’re actually…you’re accusing ME of killing my brother?!” He genuinely seemed shocked.

I heard Ashlee walking up the stairs. She slowly shuffled her feet through the kitchen while rubbing her eyes until she got to the living room.

“Are you and Mr. Fox fighting again?” she asked and looked up at me.

“No, sweetheart,” he replied. “We’re having a disagreement!” he looked at her.

“Ashlee, I want you to ask Mr. Fox what you asked me about your daddy. Go ahead, honey. It’s ok to ask now. He needs to hear this from you.” I wrapped my arms around her.

She stood in front of me in my arms, looked at him, looked down at the floor and then looked back at him.

“Mr. Fox, did you shoot my daddy?”


The Feds, several of my friends, including Chad, have asked me a similar question: “Do you think JD was involved with Nick’s death?”

To my friends, readers and Feds I say emphatically NO. Fox is many things but a murderer he’s not.

For those of you who ask, “How can you be so sure?”, I offer up as evidence this transcript from a surveillance tape inside my house on September 14, 2008 – the day he found out about Nick and I being involved.


“MY BROTHER?! Jesus Christ! MY BROTHER?!” Fox yelled as he paced back and forth in my living room.

“How many times have you been with him?! Just once?! Just today?” He stopped and looked at me.

I looked at the ground.

“MORE than once?!” His jaw dropped.

“More than once, Fox.” I quietly replied.

“JESUS CHRIST! How many times ‘more than once’ is it?!”

I couldn’t look at him.

“I don’t know. I didn’t keep count,” I replied still not able to look at him.

He slid his hands across my cheeks and forced me to look at him.

“We’re engaged to be married! Doesn’t that mean anything to you?! WHY?! Why would you DO such a thing?! How could you do this to ME?!”

I pulled away from him and I backed up to Nick.

“WE ARE NOT engaged any more! Did you miss the day in July when I threw nineteen liquor bottles at you, gave you your ring back and told you we were through?!”

“You were just mad! You didn’t mean it!”

“Fox, I DID mean it! You and I are through!”

“Jack…” Nick started to say.

Fox angrily glared at Nick, reached inside his suit jacket, pulled out his .38 and pointed it at Nick.

“YOU ARE A DEAD MAN!” Fox shouted.

Nick quickly pulled me behind him.

“Jack, you put your gun away,” Nick said quietly and started to walk towards Fox.

I grabbed Nick around the waist and pulled him back. I kept my arms wrapped around his upper body as if trying to protect him.

“There’s a little girl in this house. I’m only gonna tell you one more time. Now you put your gun away. You’re not a cold-blooded killer, Jack!”

“How do you know what I am?! You don’t know anything about me!” Fox shouted.

“I know it takes one to know one and you ain’t one. That’s why you got yourself shot like you did, right? You couldn’t pull the trigger even when that kid had a gun on ya, could ya? You can’t kill nobody! Your conscience won’t let ya. You went into Law Enforcement to uphold the law – not kill folks. If you really wanna kill me – do it now. You’re not gonna get another chance like this!” Nick put his arms up in the air surrendering. “Go ahead, Jack. Pull the trigger.”

Fox stood there with his .38 pointed directly at Nick’s heart. His hands were shaking. He looked at me with my arms wrapped around Nick and then slowly lowered his gun.

“Jack, you need to calm down,” Nick stated quietly as he gently took Fox’s .38 from his hand and handed it to me.


Ashlee told me later she saw Fox point his gun at Nick and heard him loud and clear. That’s why she asked me if Fox had shot Nick when I told her Nick had been killed.

If Fox had any intentions of killing Nick he would have done so that day. I have never seen Fox as hurt or as angry as he was that day. Anger aside, Fox told me later Nick was right – he couldn’t pull the trigger - and his .38 wasn’t loaded.

Monday, November 9, 2009

"AHEM"...

Late Saturday night after Ashlee was asleep, I opened my file cabinet and pulled out everything I had on Nick’s murder investigation.

“Chad, can we get satellite photos of the area between the hotel and the bowling alley?”

“You bet, Red!” he smiled at me and sat down at my computer. “I can get you whatever you want!” he smiled and looked at the two addresses I had given him.

He quickly found the area we needed and printed out a couple of large copies.

“How about his cell phone records?” I asked and gave him the password for Nick’s cell account.

“All right! Comin’ up!” He fiddled around for a little bit and grunted.

“They’ve sealed his records. Let’s unseal them, ok?” he smirked, hit several keystrokes, entered some codes and within three minutes, he’d unsealed Nick’s cell phone records.

“How’d you do that?!” I asked.

“I can hack into anything, honey! Wanna see what they’re up to at the Pentagon?” he raised his eyebrows and chuckled. “Printin’ now!”

I pulled the cell phone records off the printer and we sat down on the floor of the library. We spread everything out.

Chad decided to make a large hand written spreadsheet out of a roll of brown butcher paper I had to keep a timeline and all the facts in order. It was a brilliant idea. If I haven’t said it before I’ll say it now - Chad is truly a brilliant man and the best friend to have.

We spent six hours working away diligently putting all the facts in order. Both of us were exhausted.

“It’s almost four a.m., honey. You look tired. You need some sleep.” Chad smiled at me and kissed me on the forehead. “Let’s get you to bed. We’ll work on this some more later, ok?”

I smiled at him and shook my head ‘yes’.

We put everything back into my file cabinet and locked it.

“You want me to tuck you in?” he smiled at me.

“Why don’t you sleep downstairs with me. The new bed is much more comfortable than the couch and it’s quieter down there.”

He smirked at me.

“Don’t you even go there!” I laughed.

“I’m too tired to go there tonight, Red!” he laughed.


Around 7:30 on Sunday morning a loud “AHEM” in my bedroom abruptly woke us up.

Fox was standing over us in a suit and tie with his arms crossed over his chest staring at us.

“JD?” Chad yawned and pulled me in tight to him. “To what do we owe your rude ‘AHEM’ to this mornin’?”

“Angel, I’m here to take Ashlee to church!” he bellowed at me.

“Sorry, Fox. I was up late. I forgot.” I rubbed my eyes and started to get out of bed.

“I gotta use the men’s, Red. I’ll be right back!” Chad smirked, pulled back the covers, crawled out of bed and brushed by Fox.

“He’s completely NAKED!” Fox shouted quietly at me.

“Chad always sleeps naked! So do I! So do you! Get over it already! For the millionth time - we’re just friends! He just did that to piss you off! Jesus! You’d think you’d learned his tactics by now!” I sighed.

“Go upstairs, Fox, and we’ll be up in a few minutes.” I stood up, looked at him and pulled my hair into a ponytail. I slid my Kimono on and went to Ashlee’s room. I could hear Chad snickering in the bathroom.

I woke Ashlee up and got her ready for church. Chad went back to bed.

“You be good for Mr. Fox this morning,” I smiled at Ashlee as I buttoned her coat.

“I will!” she smiled at me. “I love you, Mommy!”

“I love you too!” I kissed her on the cheek.

“We’ll be back in approximately two hours. Do you think you could be dressed and out of bed by then?” he gave me this disapproving look.

I didn’t respond and shut the door behind them as they left.

“He’s in a real bad mood this mornin’! He was more fun when he was a drunk!” Chad chuckled when I walked into the bedroom.

“Did you have to do that?” I asked Chad as I slipped my Kimono off and crawled back into bed. “You know it pisses him off and it hurts his feelings.”

“Remind me why I care?” he smirked.

“Now you sound just like Nick!” I smiled at him. “Nick used to enjoy doing that same move you just pulled on Fox. One morning, Fox walked into the house uninvited and made some snide comment about Nick wearing one of my more colorful sarongs. Nick whipped it off, draped it over Fox’s shoulders and did a full on naked gorilla dance around the kitchen until Fox finally got the hint and left!”

Chad and I both started laughing.

Chad laughed really hard. “I really liked him! Now that man was fun!”

“Dead or alive - I need to find him, Chad,” I laid my head on his chest.

“I know, honey. I promise you - we will!” He rubbed my back and kissed the top of my head.