“Is it true that your son, Jack, is adopted?”

Wade paused before answering.

“Yes, why?”

“I believe that Michael thought your boy was actually his missing son, Kristian. About ten years ago, Kristian was kidnapped in Texas.”

Katie tried to sit up, but she was strapped down.

“Jack is our son, adopted legally. We have the papers.”

Jason stopped the questioning and assessed his options. He was sure that if he checked the papers, they would be fakes. He didn't know how Michael had made the connection to this family, but the dates were too coincidental. He was pretty sure that he could solve the biggest case of his career by following his theory.

However; both Tammy and Michael Barton were dead. Exposing Jack as illegally adopted would take him from the only home he had ever known. Some things were more important than just solving a case.

“I'm not challenging your adoption, Mrs. Duncan. I said that Michael Barton believed that.”

Jason paused.

“I do not.”

He put away his notebook and pulled out his phone. After several rings, Lieutenant Patton answered.

“Patton.”

“Lieutenant, Jason Strong. The newscasts paid off. We found Michael Barton. He’s dead. I'll give you more details when I get back to my hotel. I'm coming home.”

“Save the briefing for when you get back in town. Get some rest and we'll see you then.”

Jason closed his phone. He would not destroy a family to close an old case.

Acknowledgments:

My wife told me when I started this project that the hardest part would be “putting yourself out there.” She was right. We are all great in our own minds but it is you the reader that will ultimately judge our efforts. I appreciate the time you have taken and the effort you have made to make this project part of your life.

I also want to thank, Beverly, my beautiful wife, for telling me to do this in the first place, Gavin for telling me I could do it, and David for making me do it correctly. (“Don’t use the tab button!!”) Also, thanks to Kristian of TS games for my fantastic cover.

Special thanks to Ashley for her insightful editing.

I welcome any and all comments at:  jdalglish7@gmail.com or my website jcdalglish.webs.com

God Bless,

John Dalglish

February 18, 2012

BLOODSTAIN

by

John C. Dalglish

Prologue

Norman Lasiter laid his books on the bench and sat down.

“I'm gonna do it, Mark.”

Mark Jensen was Norman’s best friend. Actually, he was the only true friend Norman had. Mark put his foot up on the bench and looked at him.

“You’re crazy, dude. You don't stand a chance with her.”

Norman knew what he meant and why. It's not that Norman was stupid. In, fact he was a straight “A” student. He was athletic, a starter on the varsity football team. He would probably be one of the coolest kids in school, if not for one thing. Norman was born with a Port Wine Stain birthmark. A large one on the left side of his face and it had impacted his life almost every day.

“I'm telling you, she likes me. We sit near each other in Chemistry and she always says hi.”

Mark rolled his eyes.

“She's just being polite, dude. That’s what girls like her do to guys like us.”

“What do you mean ‘guys like us’?”

“You know what I mean! We’re on a different social scale than they are.”

Norman understood but remained steadfast.

“I don't think so, I think she really likes me. I've always been too scared to ask a girl out, I'm not going to back down this time. Prom is in three weeks and I’m going with her.”

The “her” they were talking about was Marcie Walker. Tall and thin, with jet black hair that falls to her mid-back, and big green eyes that made Norman blush to just think about. He loved to look into those eyes, even if it was just briefly, when they passed in the hall. Mark was clearly still not convinced.

“I don't want to see you crash and burn, man.”

“Don't worry about me. I'll be fine.”

Norman did his best to sound confident but inside he was terrified. He was tall and well built, but it seemed that girls could never get past his birthmark. He was convinced Marcie was different.

Even though they were sitting in the shade, they were both sweating in the early summer of San Antonio. Mark took his foot off the bench and sat down next to his friend

“When you going to ask her?”

“After football practice. The cheerleaders practice in the gym and I'm going to catch her there.”

Mark put his arm over Norman's shoulders.

“Well, if I can't talk you out of it, I'll wish you good luck. Call and let me know how it goes.”

“I will.”

****

Practice ran longer than usual that day and Norman was afraid he had missed his chance. He ran over towards the gym, still in his uniform and carrying his helmet. He saw Marcie with two friends, coming out of the locker room.

“Marcie!”

She turned and looked but kept walking.

“Marcie!”

This time she stopped and turned towards him. The two girlfriends stopped too. He ran up to them.

“Marcie, can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Okay, what's up?”

She didn't move and neither did the other two girls. Norman stared into those green eyes, unsure what to do, so he plunged ahead.

“Well, uh, well, I was hoping you would go to prom with me.”

The two girlfriends began to giggle. Marcie looked embarrassed.

“No”

“You sure?”

“I'm sure, the answer is no.”

Norman couldn't help himself.

“Why not?!”

The two girls rolled their eyes at him and laughed out loud. Marcie looked angry.

“Because, I'm not going to my senior prom with a guy who has a bloodstain on his face!”

She turned and walked away, looping arms with her girlfriends, her black hair flowing behind her. He could hear them laughing.

Norman stood there for a long time. He was frozen in place, anger surging up in him. He felt naked, exposed.

How could she? Bloodstain! How dare she?

His anger was mixed with humiliation. He looked around to see if anyone was watching. There was a group of teammates watching from the parking lot. They were laughing.

He wanted to run after her, make her apologize, make her pay for her cruelty.

Instead, he threw his helmet against the gym wall and ran for home.

Chapter 1

Jason pulled into the driveway and got out. His wife, Sandy, was waiting for him when he got to the door. She was tall, almost the same height as Jason, with blonde hair and brown eyes. Jason loved the way she met him. She would stop whatever she was doing, come over to him and give him a peck on the lips. The kiss was always followed by a long hug. It was wonderful ritual that he knew was partly born out of her fear that he wasn’t going to come home one day.

They had talked about it when their dating had become serious. They met at a Sonic drive-in. Jason had pulled in for a Cherry Limeaid and Sandy was a passenger in the car next to him. She was ordering the same thing and a conversation started up.