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Startled, Ifelt the immediate, confused tears in my eyes. Looking to him, there wasn't a smile or a smirk tobe found. He looked serious."Have I done--," I started to ask but was cut off by Daddy's hands grasping my throat as hepinned me to the wall."Shut up little girl." He started, pressing his nails into the skin of my neck, "Today D(a)d is goingto use you just the way he wants and you are going to take it!" His eyes met mine, "It is goingto hurt. A lot."He didn't say more but loosened his hold so I could take a gasping breath.I felt the fear trickle through me, my fingertips tingling, my head swimming. Maybe it was fromthe choking? I couldn't speak, but I nodded accepting my Daddy's words as if I had a choice.Still feeling dazed, I felt his hands wrap into my hair. Harshly, he dragged me to my knees usinghis legs to keep my back pinned to the wall. I thought I heard him laugh but I can't recall as thisis when he slapped me again. Much harder than before, I felt the tears fall onto. They even joined us in our display, showing the tourists how “easy” it was to start a fire from scratch.The best surprise, though, was when SAC Charles Dupree showed up. Chuck was an old friend. A friend from when I first arrived on the mountain. He was in his signature rumpled suit, just as much out of place in Elk City as it was in the FBI. Suzy and I immediately invited him and his partner to lunch at Mabel’s.After lunch, while we were enjoying our coffee, Charles let me know that he would be retiring. But that he had one last assignment to take care of.I was a little apprehensive. I didn’t want to get involved in another adventure. Especially something cooked up by the FBI. Or any other government alphabet agency.“Matt, this is about Nigel St. Gaudens.” both Suzy and I groaned. Again with this putz. He was like a bad penny. We couldn’t seem to get rid of him.“Please, Chuck, tell me he’s in jail, or Thailand, or something other than the state of Idaho.”“No worries Matt, after this.
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