"I am so sorry baby. You must be feeling terrible. Why don't you come into the bedroom and lie down?" I said.

  I helped Rebekah up, guided her into the bedroom, helped her out of her uniform and then put her into bed.

  "I just can't believe this," I said. "Just yesterday Sheila was so alive. I just can't believe she's dead."

  "Why did this have to happen to me? Why couldn't she die in some other hospital!" Rebekah exclaimed as tears rolled down her cheek.

  I got up and brought Rebekah some tissues. She wiped her eyes and laid her head on the pillow. After a while she fell asleep. I laid down next to her but couldn't sleep. The events of the past weekend were just too overwhelming. My thoughts turned to Bird and how he must be feeling. What if it were Rebekah who had died, how would I feel? Around two o'clock exhaustion finally overcame me and I dozed off.

  The next morning when Rebekah was arrested for Sheila's murder, I was frantic. I didn't know what to do. After the squad car disappeared around the corner I called Rebekah's mother and told her to come over immediately and take care of the children. When she arrived I briefly explained the situation and then got in my car and drove to the police station where they were holding Rebekah. As I sat in the waiting room I tried to think rationally about what I should do. It was obvious I needed a good criminal attorney immediately. I wondered who in the hell I could get.

  My mind raced trying to remember a criminal attorney who I might be able to hire. My criminal law professor in law school was also in active practice. He was good, but how could I come up with his twenty-five thousand minimum retainer. Then I remembered Ron Johnson, he told me about the attorney he used from McKinney. Maybe he would take it easy on me under the circumstances.

  Immediately I got up and went to the phone. I looked up Big D Title Company and called Ron Johnson.

  "Ron Johnson."

  "Ron, this is Stan Turner, something terrible has happened."

  "What is it?" He said.

  "Rebekah has been arrested," I said.

  "You're kidding?! For what?"

  "Murder!"

  "Oh my God! What happened?"

  "It's a long story, but right now I need a good criminal attorney. What about the guy you're using for your DWI?"

  "Ken Sherlock?"

  "Yeah, he's good isn't he?"

  "Sure, I think he's great, but I don't know if he handles murder cases."

  "Would you call him and see if he'll take the case? I don't have much money but an oil well I invested in just came in so I'll be getting some good money in a few months."

  "I'm sure if he handles murder cases he'd do it for you as a matter of professional courtesy. I'll call him right now. Give me the number that you’re at, so I can call you back."

  After a few minutes one of the police officers motioned for me to pick up the phone.

  "Hello."

  "Stan."

  "Yes."

  "This is Ron."

  "Yeah."

  "I talked to Ken. He says he'll do it. He's on his way down there right now."

  "Thank you Ron. I owe you one."