As I stood in the threshhold of my appartment, thoughts began to run through my mind that a thousand miles per hour. Who was that caller? Who got my pocket Bible? Felicia is dead. Only I knew that. Or did I? Someone must have found her body and known about me. But how?

I looked at my watch. It was five in the afternoon. I decided to call Pete and see if he could come over.

Pet arrived fifteen minutes later with Commissioner Alvatraz. Pete looked at me with a look of worry as I greeted him at the door.

“James, maybe I should have called Doc Moon. You don’t look like you have shaved or showered in at least a week.”

“I know. That’s not very high on the list right now. I got a call from somebody earlier this afternoon, asking me to meet them at the Metro Station on West 23rd and 7th after 9:00 tonight.”

“They? You don’t know who it is?” questioned Alvatraz.

“The voice was hoarse. I couldn’t tell who it was. They left this on my front step.”

I handed the Bible to Alvatraz who took it gently.

“It’s the Bible that I gave to Felicia. See, it has my name in the front cover. She had it when she fell.”

“James, you’ve been messed up in some pretty odd stuff, but your knees deep in yogurt with this one. You’ve got three and a half hours. I suggest that you get some rest and for pity's sake, TAKE A SHOWER.”

Pete directed me to my bedroom and forced me to lay down. As my head hit my pillow, I was in dream land. 

I woke up to my alarm clock two hours later, but for all I cared, it could have been two weeks for it was the best sleep that I had ever had.

It was about dusk, when I woke up. I was hungry and in need of a shower. I undressed and made motion for the bathroom.

Oh, how that shower felt good. Never had I ever expected something so small to make such a big difference.

After I had changed and shaved, I went into the kitchen to look for something to eat. After debating Ramen Noodles over PB&J, I settled for the Ramen Noodles. Being your average New York college kid, I had computer files dedicated to Ramen Noodle and PB&J Recipes.

After three bowls of my very own teriyaki and shrimp Ramen Noodle soup (which was very good by the way) I decided to get ready for my engagement tonight. What better to wear but jeans, a pressed white shirt, (by yours truly) and black sports jacket.

After grabbing a snack bar from the fridge, an extra cane and my manilla trench coat, I was out the door.

Once again the cold March wind stung my face as I made my way to Mystery. Since traffic was low, It only took my fifteen minutes to get to the Metro Station.

I hurried down the steps as a group of college students from St. Norberts College in Green Bay, Wisconsin walked out. (I could tell from their jackets)

I walked slowly to the platform and looked at the clock on the wall. 8:45. Fifteen minutes to go. I sat down on a bench and waited for fifteen minutes as the incoming trains full of passengers came and went. As the clock tolled for 9:00, the subway was eerily deserted. Not a soul in sight.

I was soon ready to leave but decided to take a walk. I got up and began to walk, passing many adjacent hallways, when I was pulled into one of those hallways by two strong arms.
 

Now, by this point in time, I was expecting one of three thing
I was about to be mugged
I a was about to be shot
I was about be be chloroformed

But nothing could have prepared me for what was about to happen. Instead of any of the above meeting my face or body, my lips were pressed into a soft but strong kiss. I’ve never kissed a girl in my lifetime, so nothing could have prepared me for this.

I mean, this was make-out session.

Quickly, before either of us got carried away, I pulled away from my mysterious lover, and pulled her into the light.

I gasped as I saw who my strange lover was.
 

“Felicia. Your. . . you're still alive?” I was shocked. She was listed as dead.

Her face was a mess. Two cuts ran down the sides of her nose and a large bruise had formed by her left eye. She looked and smelled as if she hadn’t showered or gotten much sleep not to mention that it was covered in dirt and grime as if she had been sleeping outside.

“James. I’m sorry for all the secrecy, but I need your help.” pleaded Felicia, urgently.

“Well it’s nice to see you too. You know if I just came back from the dead, I’d probably call up my friends and say “hey, Jim, yeah it’s me. I just died like a week ago but hey, you want to go out for some coffee? I know a good place on First Ave.” Felicia looked at me like I had gone crazy.

“That kiss was good enough. I’ve just murdered someone and I need your help.” Blurted my short time lover.

“Say what again?” I was in disbelief.

“When I fell, I was caught by a shelf and was able to survive. I followed you all the way back to New York. I was there watching you cry over my grave. I was being followed by one of Johannes hitmen hired to kill me if I ever defied his orders. I used all the tactics I could to get you to come and help me. I left your Bible on your doorstep. I called you from a public telephone.”

“What about the hitman?”

Felicia grabbed my arm and pulled me down a lit passageway to another set of train tracks, where I was met with a grotesque site. There, on the third rail, lay a man, clearly dead with his face burnt. The smell of burnt flesh filled my nostrils and made me gag.

“He followed me here and grabbed me. I kicked him and he fell into the pit and hit the Third Rail. James, I don’t know what to do. I’m already wanted by the police. Their going to send me to jail forever. I need your help.”

“Okay. Calm down. Take a deep breath and relax. How long ago did this happen?”

“Ten minutes before you were supposed to meet me. That’s why I didn’t show.”

“What did you really need me for?” I asked suspicious of all this.

“I needed protection. You were the only person that I could trust.”

After a moment, I had an idea.

“I have an idea, but you’re going to have to trust me on this.”

“Whatever you say.”

“I am going to call Pete Reno and hand the body over to him. I’m going to take you to a friends house. She’ll take care of you until I can get this all taken care of and clear your name.”
 

I decided to use Felicia’s injuries to our fullest advantage. I called Pete and he was over in about ten minutes.

“James, from now on, every time you call me, it’s gonna cost you fifteen dollars.”

“Plus expenses.” we finished together.

I introduced him to Gina Guggenheim, who had been attacked by the dead man. He insisted on placing her on protected custody, but I was able to persuade him other wise.

An hour later, a medical team arrived to carry away the body on a gurney. I set ‘Gina’ on Mystery and told her to wait for me.

I didn’t have far to go since Pete was coming towards me already. I explained to him that I would take her to a good friend's home where she would be safe. I would then come back to the subway to look for any other clues.

I returned to Mystery and rode over to my old college friends Joe and Lindsey Denton. They were a good Christian couple and I knew that they would take care of Felicia and clean her up a little bit. 

As I left their place, I still had a few questions.

How long could I protect Felicia? How would I know where to start? What if something happens to her?

As I rode back to the subway where the scene of the crime lay, I went through all the possible scenarios that could have happened and none of them made sense.
 

With the subway entrance closed off, I was able to look more closely at the scene with Pete and forensic analyst, Greg Hartwig.

“Do you know anything about the man?” I asked.

“Only that his name was Jim Boxer, a low-life from the Bronx. He was hired by a Mr. J. Schreiber.”

Looking out for clues, I notices scuff marks of heels and what appeared to be a cigarette. I was then able to recreate the crime.

“She was followed into here by her pursuer. She turned around and made flight. She was grabbed here. She scratched and drew blood. He grabbed her again. She kicked him and he fell.”

“You are a very perceptive fellow, detective. Now you will die.” I looked behind me to see Pete with his hands on his head. The gun pointed to my head belonged to Detective Hartwig.

“I thought you were one of us.” I stated.

“Of course you would. You dumb ox. How do you think Felicia got out so easily the first time?”

“You were behind it the whole thing?” asked Pete.

“Of course I was. I originally worked for Schrieber when he was a drug and crime lord. When he went into the smuggling business, he sent me to the academy and I got onto the NYPD force, only so that I could corrupt the system.”

“You would rather sell your country-men than protect them? I asked, knowing what the answer would be.

“Don’t think about it as selling out. Think of it as. . . good business. Goodbye.” He c***ed the gun and aimed it at my head.

Before he had the time to fire the gun at me, Pete grabbed his arm and broke his wrist. The gun fell to the gun with a bang.

Hartwig stood up and then fell down again. A pool of blood began to gather at his feet.

“Forgive me. I was paid to do this job and I failed. Tell Felicia, that her brother will miss her.” and with that Greg Hartwig died.

An hour later, at 11:00, Pete and I were called into Commisioner Alvatraz’s office.

“Well, if there weren’t a sorrier pair of pals. Before you guys explain what’s going on, let me fill you in. The late Johannes Schreiber was the leader of of the AHA, a Art smuggling ring. He operated out of New York, but we were never able to fix the mess he had made even after his death, because there was a rat in the force. You guys want to tell me what’s going on?”
“Can you give us the scoop on Greg Hartwig?” asked Pete.

“You went to the academy with him, I was hoping you could.”  replied Alvatraz bluntly.

“Well, I know that at the academy, he went by Greg Hartwig. He was quiet but followed the rules and went in to forensic medicine and analysis.”

“Before he died he said, ‘tell Felicia, her brother will miss her.’ Her police report never mentioned she had any siblings.” I was still puzzled until an idea hit me.

“Commissioner, send in a search for Felicia Alexandria or Simmons Hartwig.”

Felicia Alexandra Simmons Hartwig
Born: August 4, 1994
Gender: Female
Height: 5’6¨
Weight: 148 lbs
Siblings: Gregary G. Hartwig
Current Residence: UNKNOWN
Note: Has been convicted of seven felonies including cat-burglary and smuggling.
Has spent four years as a convicted felon in the New York State Penitentiary.
Is a well known cat burglar. Escaped from NYSP January 4, 2014.

I looked at Pete and he knew what I was thinking.

“James, your dead girlfriend has a lot more history than what meets the eye.”

“Pete, she’s not dead.”
 

“I lied to you Commissioner. Gina Guggenheim was Felicia. She was scared and I knew that you would throw her in the slammer regardless if you caught her.”

Alvatraz was shocked.

“James, Do you have any idea what you just did? It’s called perjury. Lying under oath. Not to mention it’s obstruction of Justice.”

“Sir, she saved my life. I don’t want to see her in the slammer. She’s suffered enough. I’ll take her punishment.”

“James, I’ll tell you what I’ll do. You assumed that I was stupid, so we’ll assume that she died in a rockslide, and we’ll assume that she had no connections to Hartwig. With circumstantial evidence, we’ll assume that ‘Gina Guggenheim’ is innocent. I’ll then assume that you, James, will see her off, never to be seen again.”

I thought a moment and then made reply.

“Where will she go?”

“Somewhere in Connecticut where she’ll never be found. Not even by you. Consider her exile your punishment. You may leave now.”

I stood up and left with Pete. As I got to the lobby, I collapsed. Pete called a paramedic and carried me off to who knows where.

 I woke up with a headache and realized that I was in my own bed. Standing over me was Pete.

“Morning Pal.” He sat down and looked out the window.

“What happened?”

“The doctor diagnosed you last night. Moon called and said that you are struggling with Abnormal Stress Release. Your heart rate had some abnormalities your blood pressure was high.”

“English, please.”

“In English, that means that you have been working the past two weeks under an excessive and incredible amount of stress. Factors include battle fatigue, getting shot at, being mugged, lack of sleep, and losing a companion. James, it’s a miracle you’re not dead. Doc, said you should have died a week ago. You are one tough cookie”

“Where’s Felicia?” I asked. Pete went out the door and brought in a familiar face and left.

“James. You look horrible.” Felicia sat next to my bed and gently stroked my face.

“You don’t look much better yourself. How are you?” Felicia didn’t look all that bad. The bruise on her face was gone, but some of the scratches remained.

“I came here to see you before I left.” I looked up to see tears in her eyes.

“Where are you going?”

“I can’t tell you. My records are going to be expunged and my name wiped new. I’m going to miss you, James.”

“Send me your address, maybe we can write each other.” She smiled.

“I am sorry about your brother. Greg died in the Subway.” Felicia’s face showed no emotion.

“I know. He loved me James. But I knew he was missing something, just as I knew I was missing something. Thank You for helping me find what I was looking for.”

She leaned over to kiss me, when Pete entered the room.

“It’s time to go.” Pete looked at me with a sad smile. He knew I was hurting.

Felicia moved and kissed me on the forehead before resting something in my hand.

“You’ll see me again. Have faith. I love you and always will.” She left the room and closed the door with Pete following.

I looked at what Felicia had left me. In my hand was a small cross.

“God, thank you. I thought I had lost a friend and yet you brought her back to me. Thankyou, for building my faith back to what it was.”

I laid down and fell asleep, wondering what to do with the rest of my life.