Chapter 1

Tabitha Jackie Moore's eyes stared fearfully at the policewoman who had escorted her as the paramedics transported her to the hospital for rape tests and treatment for shock and dehydration. The woman didn't seem particularly sympathetic, and Tabby Jack, as she often insisted on being called, desperately needed someone to comfort her!

She'd been catatonic from screaming and crying for hours when the SWAT unit had charged into her home and rescued her from the three home invaders who had brutally murdered her father and mother. It came out as they were interrogated they had particularly enjoyed raping the pretty thirteen-year old as her mother was forced to watch. Both she and her mother had been strangled and raped repeatedly. A concerned neighbor with acute hearing had thankfully detected Tabby's shrill screams of terror and reported them. Unfortunately, her mother had died from the horrible treatment before the police arrived

That's where I come into the story. I'm Jack Wilson. The police had found the papers in my best friend's desk assigning me power of attorney over the couple's concerns and called me. I'd been shocked and enraged to hear of the murders, and dropped everything and somehow managed to avoid being arrested for speeding as I rushed to my Goddaughter's side!

The hospital room door opened and a nurse showed me in. The policewoman had to physically restrain Tabby from leaping from the bed and running to me! "Tabitha," the woman spoke,"be careful, you'll rip out your I.V." I quickly walked to the other side of the hospital bed and picked Tabby up, she clung tightly to me and sobbed.

Tears of rage, loss, and sorrow for her streamed down my own face and fell on her gown as I held the young teen, all that remained of my two best friends. The nurse told me, "We've put her on enough sedatives to knock out a horse, but she's refused to give in to it. She must have incredible willpower!"

"She's been in survival mode. She'll rest with me here, she trusts me to protect her," I told the nurse. Rest she did for the next two days, as I sat in a chair and held her in my arms. I spent most of those long hours adoring her beautiful face and stroking her long auburn hair as she so loved for me to do. One of the cutest tricks she'd learned as a toddler was to climb into my lap, meow, and beg me, "Pet the Tabby, Jack!" Thinking of the torture she'd gone through and the bruises on her slender neck made my eyes stream bitter tears. I so wished I'd been beside her dad in his final fight for their lives as I'd been with him in so many fights!

I only put her back in her bed when I went to the restroom or showered, and when the doctors and nurses examined her or bathed her. The nurses were very kind in bringing meals to me. They knew the whole story now, and I suppose they knew I couldn't bear to leave her side to go to the cafeteria. The murders had made the front pages of the papers and the news channels all over the country, "Police Officer and Wife brutally slain!" The doctors and nurses seemed to accept my presence as part of her therapy treatment.

I left her room only once in those first two days to go to my truck for the fresh clothes and my shaving kit I had there. I made one of the nurses promise to stay by her side while I rushed to and from the truck. Tabby was just waking up when I walked back into the room and she desperately reached for me. I put my bag down, cradled her in my arms, and sat back down in my chair beside her bed. She kissed my cheek, hugged me, and went back to sleep, feeling safe in my arms.

On the third day they reduced her sedation. I talked reassuringly to her as she awoke. I asked her if she had any relatives or other friends she was close to she wanted to see, or might want to visit or stay with, and she told me there was only me. She cried for a long while then as I held her close. She needed this time to grieve her terrible losses, as did I.

Her father, Bob Moore, had been my best friend since boot camp years ago. We'd helped liberate Kuwait in the same unit and did one H.A.L.O. (High Altitude Low Open) night jump behind the lines on a mission into Iraq. We were closer than most brothers. After I'd been blown damned near to hell by a land mine another troop had been killed by stepping on, he had his wife visit me in the hospital stateside until he got home and could take over most of the bedside vigils. He had picked up on his civilian job as a police officer when he returned, and often visited me in uniform before or after a shift.

They'd insisted I move in with them when I was discharged from the military hospital, so I'd have a home to go to, then each had assisted me to and from my rehabilitation appointments until I could drive again. When the baby came along the proud couple had done me the great honor of naming me her Godfather, and giving her the middle name Jackie.

I had been given a full disability retirement from the military, due to various permanent problems, both physical and mental. I bought my own place so Bob and his wife would have their privacy again and a nursery room for the baby, but we'd visited at least weekly ever since. I was invited to every poker game, fishing trip, vacation, birthday, and anniversary party.

Tabby Jack had become my best buddy too, to the point of her insisting I was the only person she would allow to babysit her whenever it was needed. Have I mentioned she was a strong willed child? She would beg her mom and dad to let her spend nights or weekends playing at my house. We played ball, went swimming, camped out (usually in my yard) and went fishing. I always insisted she put the icky bait on my hook and hers, but it never seemed to work out that way. She had been the darling daughter I would never have, and now it appeared she was mine to finish raising for the worst possible reasons.

She told me she was hungry and I buzzed for a nurse to see if she was allowed anything to eat yet. I spoon-fed her some broth for her first meal of her hospital stay. They'd been feeding her intravenuously. She didn't say much as I fed her. Tabby seemed to enjoy the warm broth, and the familiar closeness of my feeding it to her as I'd often done when she was younger. It did my own low spirits a world of good being able to give the sweet child some nourishment. Her doctors sent a psychiatrist in to examine her. He introduced himself to us as Dr. Stevens and shook my hand. He extended his hand toward Tabby. She shrieked and threw her arms around my neck, clinging tightly to me and shivering from fear as I comforted her!

The doctor shook his head in sympathy, then pulled up a chair. I could tell from the resigned look on his face, her recovery would take a long, long time. Dr. Stevens spoke calmly and gently to Tabby, but she refused to respond to him. "Will she talk to you, Mr. Wilson?" He asked. "Call me Jack, Doctor," I told him, "Yes, she'll talk to me, won't you, Tabby Jack?"

"Yes," came her barely audible reply. "You need to talk to the doctor, Sweetheart," I told her in a soothing voice, "he's here to help you learn to deal with this tragedy." She whispered and sobbed, "I'm too scared to, Jack! Please don't let him hurt me!" Tears were running from my own eyes again and mixed with hers as I kissed her tears away. I promised her, "Nobody is ever going to hurt you again, Tabby Jack, I won't let them!"

Dr. Stevens stood up and spoke to me. "I'll refer her case to one of my women colleagues, Jack, she'll be in either later today or early tomorrow. Perhaps that will help. You both have my sincere sympathy. I'll send in her medical doctor. He needs to speak with you, too."

Dr. Williams came in then, and Tabby's reaction to him was very much the same as her reaction to Dr. Stevens had been. She was terrified of him! Dr. Williams had examined her several times while she was heavily sedated, but she didn't want to be in the same room with him now! I told her, "Sweetheart, let me put you on your bed, then I'll talk to the doctor." She made it plain in no uncertain terms; she didn't like that idea either!

"This is all very irregular, Mr. Wilson," the doctor said, "but to me my patient's welfare comes first, and it seems you're the only person, or at least the only man, who doesn't frighten her. The police officers left a copy of your power of attorney signed by her parents and notarized, so we can consider you her legal guardian. I spoke to Dr. Stevens and any further medical treatment I tried to give her at this point would likely only increase her mental trauma. She suffered no permanent physical damage, she is not and won't be pregnant, and the court ordered tests on the suspects are in, they had nothing infectious. I've put her on a solid diet, and prescribed something for anxiety to help ease her pain. As soon as she's had a solid bowel movement you will be free to take her home and begin her rehabilitation."

I was relieved my worries about her being pregnant, or contracting a serious disease were over. Now I had to deal with a heart broken orphaned child who'd watched her father killed, her mother raped and snuffed, while she was raped and strangled herself. She was also deathly and justifiably terrified of at least half the human race! I knew I was buying into a hell of a fight. I vowed to myself I'd care for my namesake. "Thank you, Doctor. I'll be at her side for the rest of my days or as long as she needs me, whichever comes first."

"You really mean that, Jack?" Tabby stirred enough to ask me. I truthfully told her, "Yes, Darling, I do, and you know I've never lied to you. I adore you, you are the most important person in my life." This seemed to reassure her and she drifted off to sleep again. I would never even hope to fill that enormous void in her life her loving mom and dad had left, but at least she still had her buddy Jack who had always been there for her.

I knew I would have to maintain a delicate balance between protecting Tabby and over protecting her, but I figured it was way too soon to worry about that. She was barely out of survival mode and needed all the reassurance and love I could give her.

Our next visitor was John Kelly, the President of Bob's police union. He sat several feet away after he realized his presence frightened Tabby. "She doesn't remember me," he told me, "but her dad was my patrol partner for a number of years, including when she was born, and I remember him talking about you and the war."

"Yes, thank you. He was a great guy, and the best friend I've ever had. I'm sure you know he was one hella good backup in a firefight. His wife was every bit my friend as he was." Tabby whimpered at mention of her parents, but this needed to be said.

John pulled a check and a business card from his wallet. "Here's a check from our union for $50,000 for Tabby's immediate expenses made out to you and my card. I know Bob and his wife chose you to represent their family, and it's obvious to everyone you have the child's best interests at heart. There will be other funds raised soon for her education expenses and benefits from our retirement fund. Should you ever decide to look further into this case yourself, or if she needs something give me a call."

My eyes must have shown this savvy veteran police officer I'd picked up on his hint about my intentions of looking into the murders because he winked at me before leaving. He knew I'd be calling him soon! Could this have been a contract killing instead of a random home invasion? I silently made a vow to my dear friend's memories I'd know one way or another before I let the matter rest!

Tabby's next meal was delivered, and I noticed the kind nurses had ordered one for me too. I asked her whether she could manage to feed herself this time, and she pouted for a moment, then broke down in deep wracking sobs. "I want to be a little girl again, Jack," she cried, "being a grown up hurts too much!" If you don't think her words hit me where it hurts, you're mistaken. I held her to me for several minutes to calm us both, then told her, "l'll feed the Tabby Jack, then, before her dinner gets cold." The dear child rewarded me with a tentative smile I wouldn't have traded for millions!