Chapter 2

Summer was a good time for Melissa Styles, her school was full of kids whose parents had to work, her social life was about to become more active and her child psychiatry clinic saw more children who had more time in the summer. She walked outside and heard the most joyous sound to her ears: children playing. She remembered what it was like to play as a child, the wonder and imagination, and she wanted to capture that in her preschool. She taught the children to read, do simple counting and very simple math to get them ready for school, which included sitting in chairs, listening to teachers drone on about nothing, and being quiet, good students.

Or, if they are overactive boys, teachers want to medicate into some sort of zombie student who can’t talk back, who can’t disrupt the class, who can’t create chaos, according to the current educational system.

Melissa, a doctorate with a Ph.D. in child psychology and a master’s in early childhood development, started a school for overactive boys who spend most of their day learning outside. They also got two hours of recess, once in the morning and another around 3 in the afternoon. Melissa marketed to the influential families in the city, which was easy since her family belonged to those circles.

She opened her school shortly after earning her Ph.D. and her school met with a lot of criticism from the local school district, but Melissa persevered and watched it become more successful every school year. In fact, most of the boys in the community will go through her program and then enter the public school system at the age of 12, which created an elementary school in a neighborhood into basically a girl’s school. Most of the parents want her to open a school for girls as well, and one family went as far as to sue Melissa for discriminating against their daughter, and not letting her into the boys’ program.

The court agreed with Melissa, since her school was a private program and private companies have the power to make policies as they will. Enrollment increased fourfold after Melissa won her case, and families saw the results as graduation rates and college enrollment increased, and boys went into the STEM programs.

Melissa walked through the outer portions of the playground, listening to children play, watching them playing chase, hide and seek and other childhood games. Some were on the huge castle playset. Melissa heard her assistant call out to her and walked back to her office. She had an appointment with a private investigator she hired to do background checks for three of her employees. He agreed to a consultation to discuss his services, pricing and Melissa’s expectations. Melissa walked into the building where she found Marc Foster waiting for her in her office.

“Hello Mr. Foster,” Melissa held out her hand to shake his hand. “Please, take a seat.”

“Please, call me Marc Anthony,” Marc Anthony said as he sunk down into the plush leather chair.

Melissa looked at him, he was a handsome man, tall, dark, wavy hair and dark blue eyes. Melissa thought his eyes were brown, but looking at them closer she noticed they were an interesting shade of midnight blue. His very presence made her catch her breath. She wasn’t seeing anyone currently and it had been about two years since her last relationship.

“I called your office because I am hiring three employees and I need background checks,” Melissa began. “I can’t afford to have employees with questionable backgrounds working at this school. Especially the men.”

Marc Anthony understood perfectly. He did a background check on the business, Melissa herself and her family. He preferred to know who he was working with before he took a contract. The social media page showed pictures of Melissa at several community functions including a fundraiser for the local theater. He spent several moments looking at her picture sensing some sort of familiarity. She had blond hair and dark green eyes, she was curvy and graceful.

She looked a lot better in person, it was almost as if he knew her from somewhere, but he couldn’t place where he had seen her before.

“I can get you the information you need,” Marc Anthony said. “It should take about three weeks if you want a full FBI check. I can get one done a little sooner as far as county and state criminal histories and credit checks go.”

“I have them working on a 90-day probation period,” Melissa said. “I can wait for the FBI report.”

“Great,” Marc Anthony said. “Here is my price list. I hope you find me reasonable.”

Melissa looked at the prices, $500 for each FBI background check seemed reasonable, a little steep but reasonable. Melissa opened a file in her computer, put in the charges and Marc Anthony’s name and his firm name in the appropriate lines of the contract, printed it out and handed it to Marc Anthony.

“I hope you don’t mind, but there is a non-disclosure agreement between your firm and the school,” Melissa said smiling.

“I understand,” Marc Anthony put the document in his briefcase. “I will have my attorney look over this and get it back to you quickly.”

“I would expect nothing less,” Melissa’s attorney had already put the contract together.

Marc Anthony stood up and shook Melissa’s hand again. He looked at the long, elegant hand and was struck again by a sense of familiarity. He would have to think about it more.

Melissa showed him out of her office and escorted him to his car, “I will wait to hear from you.”

Marc Anthony just smiled politely back at her. She was making him feel something, he didn’t know what, but something.

Marc Anthony pulled out of the parking lot and headed to his duplex where he worked out of his home. He owned both sides of the duplex and had a renter moving in this afternoon and he wanted to be there to greet the family. He wouldn’t tell them he was the landlord, but he did want to be a good neighbor.

He backed into the driveway and saw the moving van and two small girls running through the yard. He turned off the engine when he saw her, Amee. Suddenly, Marc Anthony was eight again.

He slowly got out of the car and looked at the small girl. She was the spitting image of Amee. Marc Anthony found it hard to breathe and his heart thudded heavily in his chest. He walked towards the playing girls as if he were in a fog. He was close to the young girl when he saw an avenging angel.

“Who are you?” the young boy, who was about 10 years old, asked as he stood between Marc Anothony and the little girls. He brandished a wooden pirate sword and pointed it at Marc Anthony. “I will cut you to pieces if you try to hurt them.”

“I believe you,” Marc Anthony smiled and looked for the parents who were carrying boxes into the house. “I am the next door neighbor.”

“Why were you trying to kidnap my sisters?” The boy was threatening him again.

“OK, look buddy,” Marc Anthony held his hands up, “I wasn’t trying to kidnap your sisters. I saw a ghost. Let’s start by doing this: Hello, my name is Marc Anthony and I live right there.” Marc Anthony pointed to his door.

“I am Christopher Gregory Ridgewood,” the boy stuck out his hand to shake Marc Anthony’s. “It is nice to meet you.”

Ah, southern manners, Marc Anthony thought, it was good to see parents were still teaching their children these pleasant niceties. He shook the young boy’s hand and asked about the girls.

“I am Christina,” the small girl with dark hair and light brown eyes curtsied. “I am seven. This is Clarissa, she is five.”

Marc was impressed with the effort, he hadn’t seen a curtsy in a long time. Clarissa tried to curtsy just like her older sister but ended up doing a half bow. Well, it will come with time, Marc Anthony thought. Clarissa had light blond hair and sky blue eyes. She was pretty the same way Amee was pretty. Marc Anthony wanted to bundle her up and protect her from what he failed to protect Amee from. In fact, just before the avenging angel challenged him with the pirate sword, Marc Anthony was going to do just that. He had to get a grip on himself.

“Christopher, Christina and Clarisse,” Nancy Ridgewood came out of the house. “Time for a snack. Oh, hello.” She noticed Marc Anthony for the first time.

“Hi,” Marc Anthony waved to the woman. “You have very pretty daughters and a brave son.”

“Thank you,” Nancy said, wiping a strand of light brown hair out of her face. “I hope they haven’t been bothering you.”

“Oh, no,” Marc Anthony said. “I am Marc Anthony by the way.”

“Nancy Rigdewood,” Nancy accepted Marc Anthony’s hand. “It is nice to meet you. We are just moving in.”

“Yeah, they said you will be here for six months,” Marc Anthony said.

“Yes, we are building a house in the Westwood Community and our other house sold right out from under us,” Nancy said. “Keith, come meet our neighbor, Mr. Anthony.”

“Oh, uh, I am Marc Anthony Foster,” Marc Anthony said as he held out his hand for Keith Ridgewood to shake.

“Good to meet you,” Keith said. He turned aside to Nancy, “Where is lunch?”

“You use your first and middle name?” Christopher asked.

“Yeah,” Marc Anthony ran a hand through his hair. It was a gesture he made when he got nervous or when he was thinking about something. “My mother named me after a dog and insisted I use the whole name in school.”

“Your mother named you after a dog?” Christina asked. “What dog?”

“The dog from the Merry Melodies Cartoon,” Marc Anthony said. He pulled a cartoon up on his phone. “That one.”

The kids came closer to look at the screen and watched a cartoon of a rather large bulldog and a rather small cat getting into mischief. They laughed as the dog thought the cat was being made into a cookie.

Keith watched his children interact with the man, and he also noticed the man was looking at his youngest daughter with some interest. This might not bode well for the man if he thinks he is going to hurt Clarissa.

Nancy looked at her husband who was studying the neighbor intently. She knew Keith could get very possessive and upset if she started talking to another man, but this was a young man who was about 10 years younger than her. She really didn’t think there was much of a threat from that corner. She then noticed where Marc Anthony was looking and felt as if a bucket of cold water splashed her in the face.

“Mr. Foster,” Nancy started.

“Marc Anthony, I insist,” Marc Anthony said, then he noticed the parents looking at him suspiciously. He was a little too close to the youngest child and he still saw Amee. He thought fast, he had to clear this up now, because he didn’t want the parents to get the wrong idea. “Your daughter is so beautiful. Well, both of them are beautiful. But Clarissa, is it, reminds me of a young girl I loved when I was a boy.” Tears pricked his eyes as he remembered the memory. “She was just a year older than Clarissa when I met her for the first time. She was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. Never mind that she was the first girl I had ever seen. Her name was Amee.”

Marc Anthony didn’t just say her name, he breathed it.

“What happened to her?” Christopher asked. “What happened to Amee? It must be very sad since you are sad.”

“Well, we played in my apartment for several years. I watched her grow up and become a young lady,” Marc Anthony said. “Then one day, she was taken away from me. She died and I had to bury her next to my mother. I did the only thing I could do for her. I gave her my name.”

“All right, kids, time for lunch,” Keith said. He wanted to get to the bottom of this story. There was a lot more to it than what this Marc Anthony character was telling them. “Nancy, can you take them in and get them fed before they start becoming hungry monsters? I want Mr. Foster here to have a good impression of our kids.”

Nancy smiled and nodded, “Alright, kids, come with me and let’s go eat.”

Keith watched them go inside then fixed Marc Anthony with a stare, “Alright, start talking. Who is Amee and what happened to her?”

Marc Anthony narrowed his eyes cooly at Keith, two can play the intimidation game, he thought. And what better way to intimidate than tell the truth?

“She was the daughter of a crack whore who moved into the apartment next door to us,” Marc Anthony said. “She was two years younger than me, I remember playing with her, reading to her, teaching her to read…”

“What else did you teach her?” Keith sneered.

“I didn’t have to teach her about that,” Marc Anthony glared at him. “There were men her crack whore of a mother sold her to who taught Amee all about that. I watched them use her, abuse her, beat the shit out of her. One of the bastards killed my mother and brutally raped Amee. I came in from work too late to save them both. He walked over my mother like she was garbage. One month later Amee slit her own wrists because she couldn’t take it anymore.

“I loved her,” Marc Anthony said. “I wanted to protect her and failed. So, yeah, your little girl hit me like a ghost.”

“I am sorry, sir,” Keith said. “It is just as you said. Clarissa is pretty. So is Christina. You have daughters, you learn to be cautious when strange men are about.”

Marc Anthony nodded, “I understand that too.”

“Why don’t you come in for dinner,” Keith asked. “I mean, we are going to be neighbors for six months. By the way, how long have you lived here?”

“Five years,” Marc Anthony said. “I moved in five years ago.”

“I bet the rent was better,” Keith said. “I mean we pay out the nose in order to stay here for six months.”

Marc Anthony laughed, “I heard the shorter the lease the more the rent, but you are building and this is a safe neighborhood.”

“That it is,” Keith observed looking at the well-kept lawns, nice cars and houses. “I was looking for a quiet neighborhood that was close to Westwood. This was the closest I could find without going over our budget.”

Keith started going into his house, “We will see you for dinner?”

Marc Anthony nodded, “I will see you in a few hours, after I shower off my day. I hope I didn’t creep you out with me seeing ghosts and all.”

“Not much creeps me out,” Keith said walking into his house. “After all, you don’t know much about us. You might be eating with a serial killer for all you know.”

“Not likely,” Marc Anthony said with a cold smile, “The chances of two serial killers being in the same duplex are abysmally small.”

Keith laughed as he walked through his door.