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       #Post#: 2981--------------------------------------------------
       Haunted by the Past - Chapter 23 - Crimes and Secrets
       By: RampageSports Date: March 22, 2016, 9:14 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Author's Note: The Spenser, Hawk, Susan Silverman and Vinnie
       Morris characters belong to mystery novelist Robert B. Parker.
       Mr. Parker is one of my favorite authors, and his work is a
       major influence on the the way I write.  Whether I even come
       close to mimicking his style is open to considerable debate, but
       I have chosen to use his characters in this story as something
       of an homage.  My goal is to handle them as lightly as possible
       and to maintain them as Mr. Parker created them.  Any failure on
       that front is completely my own.
       [hr]
       Haunted by the Past - Chapter 23 - Crimes and Secrets
       The nightly parade of RSI athletes was drawing to a close,
       bringing with it the calm that comes after the storm.  In a
       building full of women who devote themselves to learning the art
       of physical destruction... well, things can get a little crazy.
       I love that craziness.  I love being here with them, because I
       thrive on that particular brand of insanity and the frenetic
       energy that comes from it.  But that doesn't mean I can't
       appreciate a little peace and quiet.  In fact, it is in this
       moment — when the stillness sets in — that you can truly
       appreciate the energy that flowed through the building a short
       time before.
       Then my appreciation was shattered when Danni's voice cut
       through the serenity.
       "JUST LEAVE IT ALONE!" she roared, the exclamation punctuated by
       a solid thump.
       I was out of my seat before I even understood what I'd heard.
       "She's needs to know!" Emma called back to her.
       "You need to mind your own business!"
       Both of them were standing when I got into Danni's office.  Emma
       was in front of the desk with her arms spread out wide — angry,
       but also shocked at the ferocity of Danni's reaction.
       "Danni, c'mon!" Emma cried.
       Danni was leaned aggressively over the desk with her palms down
       on the smooth, shiny wooden surface.  She looked poised to come
       over the top at any moment, and the expression on her face said
       that Emma was only seconds from death.
       I might not know exactly what they were talking about, but it
       was obvious that she was way over the edge.
       "Shut up," she snarled at Emma.  "You understand me?  Just shut
       your mouth and stay out of my business."
       "That's enough!" I said.
       For a moment, nobody moved.  Emma looked pained, but she held
       her ground.  Danni just stayed as she was and seethed.
       "Emma, go," I said firmly.
       "But, I..."
       I softened my tone as I brought my eyes to hers.
       "Just go."
       She nodded, then sadly made her exit.
       My vision refocused on Danni.
       "Did you forget to take your meds today?" I asked.
       "Don't start, because you're not funny," she warned.
       "Yeah, I get that a lot."
       Her chair rolled a few inches as she threw herself into it, and
       there was an audible slap as she mashed her hands into her face
       in frustration.
       "I don't know if you've noticed," I said as I sat down, "but we
       have some heavy sh*t going on."
       "Yeah," she sighed, "I've noticed."
       "I think," I said understatedly, "it might be affecting you a
       little."
       "She's pushing me on things that have nothing to do with her,"
       she said, pointing off in the direction Emma had gone.
       I resisted the urge to ask what those things might be.
       "That may be," I said, "but you were on the verge of losing it
       when I walked in here."
       "No, I wasn't."
       My eyebrows went up involuntarily.
       "You were halfway over the desk," I said.  "I thought I was
       going to have to physically restrain you."
       A little smile bled through her frustration.
       "Do you really think you could have?"
       Now, there's an interesting question.
       "Don't know," I said with a shrug, "but I was pretty sure we
       were going to find out."
       Running her fingers through her hair, she cast her eyes toward
       the door.  Feeling a little remorse for the way she'd treated
       Emma.
       "She's such a pain in the ass," she muttered.
       "No!" I exclaimed in mock surprise.  "You don't say!"
       She rolled her eyes.
       "She's worried about you," I said.  "I know she can be a
       little... overwhelming... but she's only trying to help."
       "I know."
       She kept her eyes on the door for a long time.
       "C'mon," I said, "it's quitting time.  Time for you and I to go
       play house."
       "Oh boy, oh boy," she said.
       "Are you really sure about this dog thing?" I asked as we made
       our way to the lobby.  "I mean, I love him, but dogs tend to...
       well, you can always tell when you're in a dog owner's house."
       "I know," she said patiently, "because I have one."
       "Excuse me?"
       "I have a dog."
       "Since when?"
       "I don't know," she said derisively.  "Since a long time ago."
       "Well, you never talk about... him?  Her?"
       "Him," she answered, "and I don't necessarily feel the need to
       share my entire life with you."
       "Well," I said, "that's about to change, isn't it?"
       Her expression went blank, a look I laughingly took to mean she
       hadn't considered that when she'd agreed to the arrangement.
       Vince Jordan was idling across the street when I stepped out
       into the frigid night air.  The snow that was promised had never
       come, but the thick clouds masked any lingering twilight and
       made it feel even colder than it was.  I shivered as I started
       up the Subaru, thankful that at least I wouldn't be needing the
       all-wheel drive on this particular evening.
       Jordan slipped into line as I pulled onto the street and
       followed me home.  He waited while I packed what I needed for
       Tramp and myself, then trailed along behind me once more as we
       journeyed to Danni's.
       Danni met us outside when we arrived, and I made the
       introductions.  She had already met Taylor and Brown, who were
       posted somewhere nearby.
       While the three of us were chatting, Tramp was bouncing all
       around the car, checking everywhere for a means of escape.
       "I need to let him out before he comes through a window," I
       said.
       Jordan took his leave, and I opened the back door.  The dog
       bolted from the vehicle like he'd been shot from a cannon.  He
       was across the drive and up Danni's steps before his paws even
       seemed to touch the ground.  When the door didn't open
       immediately, he descended back to the walk, then bounded over to
       the side gate.  No luck there, so he ran back to the middle of
       the driveway, his snout pointing randomly as he searched for
       something of interest.
       "He's quite the ball of energy," Danni said.
       Up until that moment, he'd been too frenzied to even notice she
       was there.  The sound her of voice zoned him in, and he
       immediately charged in her direction.  A quick circle and then
       he sat... well, kinda still.  He was so excited, he didn't seem
       capable of staying in one place.  Every few seconds, he stood,
       repositioned himself, then sat again.  Not perfect, but it was
       good enough for Danni to give him the attention he craved.
       "Hi there," she said.  "And what's your name?"
       "This is Tramp," I said.
       "Of course it is," she said, mocking the unspoken Disney
       connection.
       "Hey, I had lots of options," I said.  "Pluto, Goofy, Pongo,
       Trusty, Jock, Bruno, Dodger... the list is endless."
       Danni stood and Tramp circled three times then ran back up the
       steps.  She momentarily appraised his goofy behavior and scruffy
       coat.
       "Yeah.  He looks like a Tramp," she agreed.
       I called the dog back and snapped his leash on him.  We had
       already decided the dogs should meet outside, which would be
       more neutral than inside Danni's home.  She made her way inside
       while I let myself through the side gate and waited in the
       moonless evening chill.  A moment later, the yard was filled
       with blinding light and I couldn't see a damn thing.  As I
       waited for my eyes to refocus, a massive black shape rounded the
       corner from behind the house.  Tramp started barking like a
       lunatic but the shape kept coming.  As I adjusted to the
       brightness, I realized it was a dog.
       More specifically, it was an enormous Great Dane.
       At first glance, it looked like the mostly black animal was
       about six feet tall, but the reality was closer to four feet...
       his head falling somewhere just above my belly button.
       "Holy sh*t," I mumbled to nobody.
       Tramp was still losing his mind, and I shortened his leash to
       make sure he stayed put.  Then I dropped to one knee — putting
       my head on the same level as the Dane's — and waited for him to
       reach me.
       I'm not gonna lie... I had some reservations about my approach.
       But I saw Danni appear behind the dog, and, since she wasn't
       screaming, I felt confident I wasn't about to die.
       The massive canine stopped less than a foot away and studied me
       patiently.  After a moment, he craned his neck forward, gave me
       a cursory sniff, then licked me with a long, wet tongue that was
       as big as the rest of him.
       "Blech," I said as I reached around and scratched him behind the
       ear with my free hand.
       At this point, Tramp was pulling so hard, I was close to losing
       my arm.  I unhooked his leash and let him go.
       Unfazed by the size difference between them, he circled wildly
       around the larger dog, stopping every so often to sit back on
       his haunches and bark — trying to entice the Dane to play.
       The larger dog ignored him, seeming neither bothered nor
       particularly interested.
       "You have a saddle for this guy?" I asked as Danni walked up on
       us.  "Because I have a niece who'd kill for a pony ride."
       I looked up for a reaction, and found her staring at me with her
       mouth hanging open.
       "What?" I asked.
       "I've never seen anyone do that with him," she said.  "Most
       people are terrified."
       "Well, I'll be honest," I said, nodding toward the line of trees
       that marked the property boundary.  "I thought about trying to
       climb to safety, but I didn't think I could make it in time."
       She laughed, still looking amazed.
       "By the way, thanks for the warning," I said.
       "Hey, I gotta have some fun with this, right?"
       "Oh, yeah... sure," I said sarcastically.
       Clearly, living with Danni was gonna be a real hoot.
       "The big fella here have a name?" I asked.
       "Winzig."
       I stood up and raised an eyebrow, my hand still massaging the
       dog's head.
       "I'm sorry.  What?"
       "It's German," she answered.
       "What does it mean?"
       "Tiny."
       "Excellent," I smiled.  "I always like my irony served with a
       foreign flair."
       Tramp was still harassing his larger counterpart, and I knew
       Winzig was eventually going to reach his limit.  But, that's the
       way it is with dogs.  They'd work it out eventually, so Danni
       and I left them and retrieved my bags from the car.
       As soon as we stepped through her front door I was in awe.  A
       false corner created a small alcove for a wall mounted coat rack
       and a low shelf for bags and parcels.  It opened to the right,
       guiding guests into a formal sitting room.  To say it was
       enormous would be an understatement, but the furniture was
       crowded together on an area rug in the center.  Soft gray chairs
       and glass topped tables were pressed around a large glass coffee
       table, creating the aura of intimacy in a room that screamed
       opulence.  Gray walls and soft brown accents did little to shake
       the furniture catalog beauty of the room.  Though the three
       large, floor-to-ceiling windows would provide a warming light
       during the day, it was simply too sterile.  Even the floral
       centerpiece was too perfect to help.  It was a room meant for
       show and some formal entertaining, but nothing more.
       "Can I go in?" I asked.  "Or do I have to wait for the butler to
       announce me?"
       No verbal response was provided.  Instead, she put the bottom of
       her shoe against my ass and gently nudged me into the room.
       I gave her a stern look, but, as usual, she wasn't impressed.
       "Rude," I said.
       "Just go," she replied.
       The room was open to a dining room at the rear of the house, and
       I caught a glimpse of the kitchen as we ascended a staircase to
       the left.  The climb brought us to the end of a long hallway.
       Danni turned and stopped at lucky door number three, then
       gestured me into the guest bedroom.  Well, one of them, anyway.
       There were so many doors up here, she might have been running a
       bed and breakfast on the side.
       Where the sitting room was defined by its grandeur, this room
       was about its simplicity.   Walls painted the color of hot
       chocolate with marshmallow white trim.  Stained wood floors
       offset by a cream colored area rug.  The dark wooden dresser,
       bureau and end table were obviously part of a set that came with
       the bed frame.  With a high curved headboard and matching
       footboard, the bed rightfully drew the eye and held it.  Topped
       with crisp white linens and a folded brown accent blanket, it
       pulled the room together and gave it a tasteful country elegance
       I fell in love with immediately.
       I stepped in to better appreciate the two large windows near the
       foot of the bed.  As with the ones in the sitting room, they
       used up the full height of the wall.
       "Got a thing for sunlight, huh?" I said.
       "I like the view," she said with a shrug.
       I had to take her word for it, as the yard lights faded to inky
       blackness at a tree line near the back of the lot.  Beyond that,
       I couldn't see a thing.
       "It's a beautiful room," I said.
       She was quiet for so long, I turned to make sure she was still
       there.
       "I'm waiting for the punchline," she said.
       "No," I said, appraising the room again.  "Not this time."
       "How disappointing," she deadpanned.  "C'mon.  Spenser's in the
       kitchen."
       I got a better look at the dining area as we passed again.  It
       was anchored by a large, modern black table and matching chairs.
       Along the back wall were a china cabinet and curio cabinet full
       of artistic-looking vases, finely bound books she'd probably
       never read and other meaningless bric-a-brac.  Much like the
       sitting room, this space was mostly for presentation.
       We pressed on into the kitchen, and my heart skipped a beat.
       "Oh, Danni," I breathed.
       Where to even start?  Acres of tawny stone tile spread out
       before me.  To the left, miles of similarly colored countertop
       and backsplash, with hundreds of cubic feet of wooden cabinet
       space tucked everywhere it would fit.
       I'm just estimating on the measurements, mind you.
       Not one, but two islands.  The smaller was intended for standing
       only, with a divided sink and dishwasher built-in.  The larger
       island was designed as a breakfast counter, with two-tone wooden
       stools on all sides.  On the far wall, a built-in, stainless
       steel refrigerator the size of my bedroom.  Just to the left, a
       convection oven and microwave set into the corner.  In the
       center of the long counter, an immense, Viking-brand range with
       a commercial vent hood mounted above.
       My knees actually went weak as a fervid shudder passed through
       me.
       In the far corner, Spenser sat at a small table beside yet
       another enormous window.  As a kindred spirit in the realm of
       the amateur culinary arts, I looked to him for the words I
       couldn't find.
       "I know," he said plainly, a puzzling look of disappointment on
       his face.
       He saw me catch the look and explained.
       "Check the fridge," he said.
       I made the twenty minute journey across the kitchen and opened
       the refrigerator.
       Milk, bread, half a stick of butter, three takeout containers,
       two pitchers filled with I wasn't sure what, and enough empty
       space to hide an elephant.
       I looked back to Spenser.
       "I know," he said again.
       Unbidden and uninvited, I started going through the cabinets.
       Beyond the pots, pans and other various cooking related objects,
       there were a few boxes of mac and cheese, some instant soup and
       a few boxes of cereal — mostly varieties I hadn't eaten since I
       was a child.  Beyond that, there was nothing.  Though each
       stylish beige door offered a sense of potential and
       anticipation, one after the other opened to reveal little more
       than empty shelves.
       I stared at Danni in disbelief.
       "Did someone break in and raid your kitchen?" I asked.
       She shrugged disinterestedly and said, "I don't really cook that
       much."
       "Well, then" — I stopped and spread my arms wide in an attempt
       to encompass the entirety of the room — "WHY?"
       "House has to have a kitchen," she said.
       "This is not a kitchen," I said.  "It is the Mecca of home
       cooking.  I could drop my whole house in this room."
       My anguish did not seem to sway her as she simply shrugged
       again.
       "If you don't cook, then what do you eat?"
       Without a word, she opened a drawer near the door and produced a
       thick stack of take-out menus.
       I shook my head sadly.
       "I have never been so disappointed in you."
       "How will I live with the shame?" she said.
       "Can she be arrested for this?" I said to Spenser.
       "I don't know the laws here," he answered, "but I'm pretty sure
       it's a crime in Massachusetts."
       "Ha, ha," Danni said.  "You're both hilarious."
       I continued my conversation with Spenser.
       "I can fix this," I said urgently.  "I just need some supplies."
       He looked like he really wanted to agree, but then shook his
       head.
       "As much as I feel your pain," he said, "a quick run to the
       store is going to be a considerable inconvenience."
       I desperately wanted to protest, but the same thought had
       occurred to me before I even made the suggestion.  The only way
       it could work would be for the three of us to go together,
       probably with at least one State Trooper in tow.  Sort of the
       polar opposite of a quick run.
       "Fine," I sighed, "but spread the word.  I need to make a stop
       tomorrow night."
       "It's not your job to cook for me," Danni said.
       "I'm making it my job for however long I'm here," I said.
       I cut her off before she could protest.
       "I'm living in your house," I said.  "Cooking is the least I can
       do."
       "It's not necessary," she said.
       "I know," I said.
       Then I turned to take in the room once more and said, "Honestly,
       I kinda want to."
       "Be my guest, then."
       "What do we do about tonight?" I asked.
       "Pizza is already on its way," she said.
       Pizza.  Nothing tempers disappointment like pizza.  And maybe
       chocolate.
       We remembered the dogs, and Danni led the way down a short
       hallway near the stairs to the back door.  As we walked, I
       realized there was a room on that side of the house I hadn't
       seen, and I suspected it was the room I'd be most interested in.
       Danni opened the back door, and in came Winzig, with Tramp
       trotting placidly along behind.  Evidently the pecking order had
       been established exactly as one would expect.
       The Dane trotted to a spot in the sitting area, and laid down on
       the carpet.  Tramp eagerly laid down beside him, and both dogs
       looked relaxed and content.
       "Well," Danni said, "that was easy."
       "Tramp may be a little crazy, but he's not stupid."
       As we moved over to join them, the sheer size of Winzig made me
       realize something.
       "Hey, where the hell was he the other night?"
       "He's more of an inside dog," she said.
       "He's a moose," I countered.  "No one would have come anywhere
       near this place if he'd been out there."
       Danni seated herself on the floor in front of the dogs, and
       petted both at the same time.
       "I never really thought of it," she said.  "Honestly, I'd have
       been worried about him getting hurt."
       No further explanation was needed because I understood her
       perfectly.  Winzig might be a moose, but he was her moose.  It
       was as much her job to protect him as the other way around.
       The pizza arrived and we ate like we hadn't seen food in days.
       Stress can do that to you, I guess.
       Even the dogs — who did not appear to be weighed down by the
       concerns their human counterparts were dealing with — made sure
       to get in on the action.  I had been a little worried about
       Tramp.  I don't normally share my meals with him, but pizza is a
       different story and he knew what it was the minute it came in
       the door.  That left me with a dilemma.  I didn't want to set a
       bad precedent in front of Winzig, especially in his own home.
       On the other hand, I was pretty sure Tramp would die of neglect
       if he didn't get his pizza.
       Danni solved the problem for me when she pulled the first slice
       from the box and threw it directly to her oversized canine
       companion.
       After we ate, Spenser reminded us that he would be switching out
       with Hawk before morning, then bid us good night and positioned
       himself in the sitting room.
       Danni led me away to the mystery room, and I knew immediately
       that this was the room I'd been waiting for.  Subtle rose
       painted walls.  Plush sand-colored carpet chosen with bare feet
       in mind.  A couch and two chairs — nicely appointed but totally
       mismatched — each looking like the perfect spot to curl up with
       a good book or to watch a favorite show or movie on the sleek,
       curved big screen TV.  The seating was arranged around a low
       coffee table that was kept clear, because that's where the
       snacks went.  Open shelving units rose high on both sides of the
       television but there were no tchotchkes here.  Photos took
       center stage in this display.  A shot of Danni and Dragon's Den
       leader Sophia Bush unwinding with the cast of One Tree Hill back
       when they both starred on the show.  An ill-focused, weathered
       picture of Danni with her parents and her brother — likely taken
       at home in Louisiana — with a smaller, more recent photo of the
       siblings tucked into the corner of the frame.
       Chaos seemed to rule the layout, with juxtaposed photos having
       no apparent relation.  But that didn't matter.  Nothing in this
       room was meant for others.  These were Danni's memories, and
       they told the story she wanted them to tell in the way she
       wanted it told.
       This was Danni's room.
       She took a seat on the far end of the couch as I casually
       perused the display.  My attention was quickly pulled to a high
       shelf on the left, where I found my own familiar face in a photo
       with Danni and Julianne Hough.
       "Ugh," I said.  "I hate having my picture taken."
       "You remember that night?"
       "Sure," I said.  "It's the night Jules beat Vicki Blows to win
       the divisional crown for the first time.  Our first title
       together, as I recall."
       "You remember the weeks before?"
       "Yep.  Vicki signed with RWB, and you came in all hot and
       bothered about how Jules needed to totally revamp her training
       program."
       "And you said I was crazy."
       "I expressed some doubt regarding your assertions.  I never said
       you were crazy."
       "Same difference."
       "Maybe," I said.  "That was also the first time you told me to
       go f*ck myself."
       "That's not true," she said.  "I simply maintained the courage
       of my convictions in the face of your skepticism."
       "Same difference."
       "Maybe.  I was right, though."
       "Hey, I let you make the changes, didn't I?"
       "Only after you drove me into a rage."
       "Yeah, that was fun.  In fact, if you look close," I said,
       pointing toward Danni in the photo, "you can see the way you're
       grinding your teeth together as you fight the urge to punch me
       in the mouth."
       "Actually, I believe I did express a desire to kick your ass, at
       the time."
       "In fact, you did."
       I smiled at the memory as I turned and took a seat on the
       opposite end of the couch.
       On the table beside me, was the TV remote.  I recognized it
       immediately, as it appeared Danni and I shared the same service
       provider.
       Struck by a sudden curiosity, I turned the unit on and brought
       up Danni's DVR list.
       "Please," she quipped, "help yourself."
       "Just know that if the Real Housewives of anywhere is on this
       list, I'm leaving."
       "That's not much of a threat."
       As I scanned the list, I was momentarily disoriented — confused
       as to how my recording preferences ended up on Danni's TV.
       "You watch Arrow?" I asked, surprised that she would be
       interested in such a whimsically themed show.
       "Am I going to have to defend my viewing habits, now?" she said.
       "No need," I said.  "I watch it, too."
       The more I read, the more I realized... I watched them all.
       "Blue Bloods, Castle... these are great shows."
       "Kate Beckett may be the greatest character on television," she
       said.
       "Why do you think I moved so fast when Kickass folded?" I asked.
       "I knew Stana was going to draw a lot of interest.  I mean, I
       had her signed within days, and I still almost lost her to
       Dragon."
       "Yeah, but you lost Jen Stano in the process."
       "You know full well that was unrelated," I said.
       "Disappointing, but unrelated."
       I went back to the list and conspicuously wrinkled my nose as I
       read the name of the next show.
       "Chicago, PD," I said.  "Meh."
       "Still holding a grudge against Sophs, huh?"
       "Maybe a little."
       Truth was, I had no problem with Sophia, who played Detective
       Erin Lindsay on the show.  She and I had gotten off to a rocky
       start, for sure.  But, once I took the time to understand her a
       little, I found quite a bit of respect for the risks she took
       and the lengths she went to for her teammates.
       "Ohh," I gasped as a title near the bottom of the screen caught
       my eye, "you watch Once?"
       Once Upon A Time was a show that took the Disney version of
       fairy tales such as Cinderella, Snow White and Peter Pan, merged
       them with the original stories and produced something far more
       interesting than I'd ever expected.
       It's easy for those who've never watched to dismiss it as
       childish,  and it would be even easier for me to deflect
       criticism from those people by saying I watch the show because
       it stars RSI's Jennifer Morrison.  Of course, the truth was that
       my interest in signing Jen developed because she was on the show
       and not the the other way around.
       Not to mention the fact that I don't care what people think,
       anyway.
       "I'm actually surprised how much I like that show," Danni said.
       I looked the list up and down again, amazed at the number of
       mutual favorites we had.  Then I realized what else we had in
       common.
       "Wait a second," I said.  "Arrow, Once, The Flash, Agents of
       Shield..."
       I turned and looked her square in the eye.
       "You're a closet dork," I said accusingly.
       "This coming from you."
       "No, no.  I am an avowed dork," I countered.  "You, my dear, are
       a dork in secret."
       "Bullsh*t," she said.  "I'm not hiding anything.  If you'd asked
       I would have told you.  I just don't advertise the way you do."
       "I don't advertise," I said.
       "I think you've signed every fighter who's ever so much as
       appeared on The Disney Channel," she said.  "You nearly fainted
       when Steph signed Kristen Bell, and I suspect you're having
       status meetings with Emma to discuss her progress in preparing
       for her upcoming movie role.  You may as well take out a
       roadside billboard."
       "Emma and I don't have meetings.  I simply inquire about how
       things are going from time to time."
       "Daily, I'm sure."
       "Also, I never even came close to fainting when we signed
       Kristen."
       Though it's possible I may have danced.
       "Oh, and you forgot to mention that I also signed Ms. Morrison,"
       I said, bringing the conversation back to the TV show while
       simultaneously shooting down my meager attempts at defense.
       "So, you concede my point."
       "You know damn well I never concede anything."
       "No," she said with a wry smile, "you don't."
       It was impossible to tell from her expression if she meant that
       as a compliment or an insult.  But, after years of working
       together, I suspected any insults we hurled at each other were
       only for fun.
       As we sat back to watch this week's episode of Once, I thought a
       little about that.  Not just about the rapport that had
       developed between us, but about our relationship as a whole.  We
       had been through quite a lot, both good and bad.
       I knew one thing, for sure.  We were a long way from the people
       we were in that picture.  And that was not a bad thing, at all.
       [hr]
       Character Reference
  HTML http://s19.postimg.org/x7gm9w22n/Richelle_100x120.jpg
       Name: Richelle Winterfeld
       Nickname(s):
       Background: Owner of the RSI stable, former underground fighter
  HTML http://s19.postimg.org/9av3z511b/Danni_100x120.jpg
       Name: Danneel Harris
       Nickname(s): Danni
       Background: RSI stable leader, reigning DEF welterweight
       champion
  HTML http://s19.postimg.org/cj46pxcov/Emma_100x120.jpg
       Name: Emma Watson
       Nickname(s): Dr. Watson
       Background: Reigning FAC featherweight champion, training
       partner and romantic partner of Tiffany Mulheron
  HTML http://s19.postimg.org/dsafuiy67/Stephanie_100x120.jpg
       Name: Stephanie McMahon
       Nickname(s): Steph
       Background: RSI's fighter development coordinator, former SCQ
       super heavyweight champion
  HTML http://s19.postimg.org/u4khk9chr/Sophia_Bush_100x120.jpg
       Name: Sophia Bush
       Nickname(s): Sophs
       Background: Danni's close friend, Dragon's Den stable leader,
       DEF welterweight competitor
  HTML http://s19.postimg.org/o3dlvpb3z/Olivia_Holt_100x120.jpg
       Name: Olivia Holt
       Nickname(s): Liv
       Background: FAC bantamweight contender
  HTML http://s19.postimg.org/4sst71kzj/Dove_Cameron_100x120.jpg
       Name: Dove Cameron
       Nickname(s):
       Background: FAC bantamweight contender
  HTML http://s19.postimg.org/kzls194sf/Zendaya_100x120.jpg
       Name: Zendaya Coleman
       Nickname(s): Z, Daya, ZayZay, Z-Day, Zenduzzi
       Background: FAC middleweight contender
  HTML http://s19.postimg.org/kmg56h1fj/ORourke_100x120.jpg
       Name: Patrick O'Rourke
       Nickname(s):
       Background: Major with the New Jersey State Police, family
       friend of Richelle's
  HTML http://s19.postimg.org/bwegrvukf/Meghan_Taylor_100x120.jpg
       Name: Meghan Taylor
       Nickname(s):
       Background: New Jersey State Police Detective, works for Major
       O'Rourke
  HTML http://s19.postimg.org/e0pn1hhfj/Gavin_Brown_100x120.jpg
       Name: Gavin Brown
       Nickname(s):
       Background: New Jersey State Police Trooper, works for Major
       O'Rourke
  HTML http://s19.postimg.org/zdkkf918f/Vince_Jordan_100x120.jpg
       Name: Vince Jordan
       Nickname(s):
       Background: New Jersey State Police Trooper, works for Major
       O'Rourke
  HTML http://s19.postimg.org/5ul2pzr7j/Tramp_100x120.jpg
       Name: Tramp
       Nickname(s):
       Background: Richelle's dog
  HTML http://s19.postimg.org/6rw3cls3j/Winzig_100x120.jpg
       Name: Winzig
       Nickname(s):
       Background: Danni's dog
       #Post#: 2985--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Haunted by the Past - Chapter 23 - Crimes and Secrets
       By: Dragons Den Date: March 23, 2016, 12:04 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Haha, brilliant! I love the descriptions. The house, the dogs,
       etc. All perfect. Great read that was, and this whole story
       continues to be. Thanks again for sharing it with us.
       BUT
       You know full well, Chicago PD is a GREAT show. :P
       #Post#: 2987--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Haunted by the Past - Chapter 23 - Crimes and Secrets
       By: RampageSports Date: March 23, 2016, 8:12 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Oh, sure... NOW you stick up for Sophia.  It's a little easier
       when there isn't a leggy blond clouding your vision, eh? :P
       I'm glad you liked it.  I took a little risk letting Danni and
       Richelle take this little detour they're on now.  I'm glad to
       hear it seems to be working. :)
       *****************************************************