Lolly was up to her elbows in suds washing dishes, singing and swaying to a Faith Hill tune. She looked so cute and young in her white short shorts, halter-top, and ponytail all askew. He wondered how long it would take her to realize she wasn’t alone. As a cop her vulnerability disturbed him, but as a male he reveled in the time it gave him to feast on the sight of her luscious, rounded derriere swaying in time to the music. What he was about to do was a huge mistake, but he was going to do it anyway. His soul desperately needed it. He opened the screen door. Harvey butted his hand in welcome and then plopped on the floor.

Some small noise alerted her that she had company. The hair stood up on the back of her neck as she carefully gripped the butcher knife she'd been washing. Her holster was locked in the desk. The knife was the best she could do on a moment’s notice. Lolly slowly turned around. On one level she was relieved when she saw her visitor in his black T-shirt and tight jeans. There was no physical danger from this man, but she was afraid he presented an even greater threat.

“Are the kids here?” he asked. She managed to shake her head.

“Are they coming back anytime soon?” Another negative nod.

“Are they going to be here anytime tonight?” She shook her head again as she clutched the knife. It dripped suds all over her bare feet, but she didn’t notice the pool of water accumulating around her feet. Incapable of coherent speech, she watched as he closed the wooden door and locked it with a deafening click. If she didn’t say something soon –- she wasn’t going to be able to back out of what was going to happen.

He walked toward her. She'd always wondered how a man that massive could move so quietly. Before he reached the sink he unhooked the Velcro holster strapped to his leg and placed the gun on the kitchen table. It looked out of place next to the vase of daisies.

“I need you.” That was all he said before he took the knife from her hands.

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