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we can raid the wardrobe for some clothes."
    "Great," I reply, trying to drum up some enthusiasm.
    Savannah leads me through to her old bedroom.  It is pretty.  It takes me by surprise.  This is a very feminine room, all pale pinks, lace and flowers.  Not a typically couple’s room.  I wonder if she redecorated after her husband was killed, but then she said this is her old room – he was only killed three months ago.  She indicates for me to sit on the end of the bed and flings open her wardrobe doors.  Standing stiffly in front of the racks of clothes, she taps a long slender finger on her mouth.
    "This one!" she finally says, pulling out a soft, cotton knit, wrap around dress.  She holds the coat hanger in front of her for my approval.  The navy dress is simple and elegant and hangs calf length.  It looks like it has three quarter length sleeves and I hope the V-neck isn't too low. 
    "You look more like a jeans kind of girl," she says smiling   "But this might be easier to get on without hurting your ankle.  I also have some new underwear that should fit you and a pair of shoes."  She glances at my strapped foot.  "Well, okay... a shoe!"  We both laugh again.
    "Thanks, I'll pay you back for the underwear."
    "What?  No!  Even the dress honey, keep it.  I can't wear this stuff anymore!  I was going to donate it all anyway."
    "Is your brace permanent?”  I ask quietly, sensing the sadness that has crept over her.
    "I will eventually get a smaller, less obvious one, but yes.  I'm stuck with it."
    "What happened?"
    "My husband and I had an argument about something and he had been drinking heavily.  I told him I would drive but...well men are stubborn , aren't they!  He didn't make it."  Her eyes shimmer with un-shed tears. 
    "I'm sorry."  I take the dress from her and lay it on the bed.
    "It's done."  She says brushing imaginary lint off her arms. 
    "Will you be alright?"  I ask, in awe of her bravado.
    She looks me square in the eyes and smiles wistfully.  "One day I will be.  For now I'll just keep practising."
     
     
     
     
     

Chapter 4
     
    I close my eyes, willing myself to relax.  Aside from the mutiny of USS Acacia by rebellious hormones, the unfortunate twist of events leading to my captivity in the luxurious wilderness of the Cascades and my near constant state of humiliation over the last twenty-four hours – I think am holding up pretty well.   
    I scowl, remembering sitting in my office, the day the two suited detectives strolled in and slapped a search warrant on my desk .  Just a few days before I had closed a deal to refurbish the two hundred and thirty nine guest rooms, of the Four Seasons Hotel in Denver.  I was anxiously waiting for the hotel's approval, for the twenty-one suites as well.  I could not have asked for a more prestigious contract.  With that under my belt, I would finally be able to expand the business.
    The detective looked almost apologetic as he asked me step away from the computer so I could not delete evidence.  Two days later, my world effectively crashed around me.  Robert, in a calculated act of retribution, had stolen it all.  Including the deposit paid by the Four Seasons to cover materials.  How had I not seen it coming?  Worse still, I could not prove that I was not involved. 
    This was why I needed to take control.  Trust no one but myself.  I am still trying to clear my name and rescue what there is of my reputation.  Gratefully, a generous chunk of Washington State's influential, have been supportive.  Soliciting funds for the shelter would be near impossible otherwise.  I suspect having Victoria on the shelter's board has helped.
    I groan inwardly, rubbing my forehead between a pruned thumb and forefinger.  Grant estimated the trial would run on for another year still, but if they have reopened the investigation into Robert, the trial will probably be delayed due to the possibility of new evidence arising.  As much as I