Orange was certainly not her color, nor was a jumpsuit her choice of attire, yet she was the center of attention, all eyes were upon her, it was a position to which she had always aspired, albeit not this way and not on this day. With each shuffle; her physical pain and her emotional torment was on display for all to see. Her hands were secured behind her back and her feet shackled, one to the other, her shoulders hunched forward and her head hung down with her long blond, now unruly, tresses hiding her face never once suggesting she had been extremely attractive, with an engaging personality; a young 38, with a face and a figure for which was often mistaken as she being 28 and yet, her thinking and actions defined her as merely a wide-open teenage adolescent having just broken the highly restrictive bonds of the short tether that was her daddy. It was well known that she had bedded nine husbands, three of which were hers. Four of the nine had met an early grave and one more barely clung to life. She had been indicted, and was soon to be on trial, for but one murder, while being highly suspected in the others. If convicted, her sentence would be a lifetime behind bars, out of the daily spotlight and away from the interest of every man she met. For her, it was a fate far worse than death. I had never seen a suspected serial killer in such close proximity, nor had I ever wanted to, yet I was there at the request of her mother. Her story had more than captured my interest. Oh, and my name? It's Nick Nova, Private Investigator. The tall, statuesque lady beside me, you ask? She's my gal Friday; LuAnn Warner, the absolute best of the best.
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