Sarah sat in one of the visitor chairs in her private office. Marisa Spencer sat in the other. "Well, it's been almost a year, Marisa. Just three more weeks until your surgery. We're going to schedule your second look operation for the first week in January. All your tests and sonograms have been perfect. I think you're going to have a wonderful, albeit late, Christmas present." The young woman had been through a year of waiting to see if the cancer had recurred. The worry and strain was evident on her face as she asked Sarah, "Do you really think it will be good news, Dr. Lyle?" Sarah smiled and squeezed her hand. "Yes, I do. I wouldn't lie to you. I'm so sure that I had Kathleen schedule a laparoscopy. You remember, that's the one where we put a tube through the belly button, get all the tissue samples we need and then send you home the same day."
"But, when will we know if everything is all right? If there is any more cancer?" she asked.
"I'll know pretty much at the time of surgery, but we'll know for sure a few days after that," Sarah answered. "Now, any more questions?" The young woman shook her head. "Good. I'll see you in the office a few days before you're scheduled. Kathleen will give you the date and all the forms to send to the hospital. I want you to relax and try to enjoy the holidays." Marisa Spencer stood up and hugged her doctor.
"How can we ever thank you?"

"Just have a healthy baby, as soon as possible, after we get the all clear." Putting her arm around her patient, Sarah walked her to the door.
Sarah sat down to look over some lab results that had come in that afternoon. "Ready to go soon?" asked Angela, coming to the door.
"Yes. Go ahead and call the car service." She had been using a car service for the last two months since Zachary's arrest and release.
"Detective Carson is here to see you."
"Show him in."
Carson came into the room and said, "Finish your Christmas shopping, yet? You only have a few more days."
Sarah gestured for him to sit and asked, "Is this a social call, an offer to do my shopping, or is it for some other reason?"
"Just asking. My wife thinks I do mine on Christmas Eve. She's right, of course, but I won't admit it." He laughed and then became serious. "I stopped by to see how you're doing."
Sarah said sarcastically, "Why the sudden interest, Carson? I haven’t heard from the police since Zachary’s arrest. I'm doing great. I don't leave my apartment any more except to come here or the hospital. I screen all my calls. I love shopping in New York at Christmas time. It's my favorite time in the city. But I did my Christmas shopping this year through catalogues. Other than that, I'm fine." She had lived with terror and tears for two months, keeping them just below the surface and refusing to acknowledge them to anyone, including herself.
"You know, the only time I saw you really scared was after you had met that bastard in the restaurant. Do you ever let anyone know how you're feeling?" he asked.
Sarah replied, "I have too many things to do to worry about me."
He unbuttoned his overcoat. "That's what I thought. I take it you didn't move, either?"
Sarah leaned back in her chair and asked, "What's this all about, Detective? This isn't a social call and I'm sure you have criminals to catch. Isn't this your busiest season?" She wasn't going to give him a break.
"You're right about that. I stopped by to tell you that I heard through the grapevine, and you didn't hear this from me, that Koehler has plea bargained."
Sarah sat bolt upright. "What? How could that happen? The man has been convicted of fraud and bribery before. He’s been in prison, but always for short times because no one could produce enough evidence. You did. You told me he would go away for a long time. You taped him. It was all there."
"It happens. All we do is present the evidence and it's up to the DA. What I heard is that the DA thought since you were such a respected member of the medical community that it wasn't in your best interest to bring this to trial. He wanted to save you the publicity. Seems Mr. Koehler has used a few more names than we knew about. Anyway, he has always either gotten away with minimal time or the case went nowhere. We did find out he’s a pretty bad actor. Seems that in some of the dropped cases the victim may have been threatened, but nothing could ever be proven. Every case brought by a woman was dropped, that I do know."
Sarah was furious. She had lived in a constant state of fear, waiting for the day Zachary would go to prison and she would be free. "I'm the victim and yet I'm the one who can't walk around freely because of him. Who the hell gave the district attorney the right to do this?"
Carson explained, "The court calendar is full. Anything they can expedite, they do. His lawyer talked a good deal. Made him sound like a man caught between two women. They reduced the charges to malicious mischief. We didn’t even know about it until the deal was cut."
Sarah looked puzzled, and asked, "What the hell is that?"
"It means thirty days, probably suspended. You'll have to go to court and say you want these charges brought."
Sarah stood up and walked around the front of her desk. "Let me get this straight. He has an arrest record. He threatened my daughter. He blackmailed me. I wore a wire so you could get all the evidence, that was irrefutable I might add, and now he's being charged with mischief. My God, is it any wonder women get beaten up and even killed by men like him? The fucking system allows it to happen." Sarah began laughing, almost hysterical. The last two months of fear and worry were evident in her voice. "You know, it's really funny. I'm the victim here and he goes free. He walks out with a slap on his hands and I get to watch over my shoulder and make sure he doesn't come after me. Now that I know his history, I realize why I’ve been terrified. When were you going to tell me about him, after I was dead? Well, please be sure to thank the district attorney for me. On second thought, tell him I won't be bringing charges. Just like all the other women, I like my life and my daughter's too much. And tell him that I hope Zachary's next victim doesn't wind up killing the son-of-a-bitch, because someone is going to nail that bastard some day."
"I understand how you feel. We feel the same way. We arrest them and they're back out on the street again before the door slams shut. Just be careful for awhile, Doc."
"Right! I'll do that, detective. Some things never change. I'll tell the women who are abused by their spouses and significant others that they had better do the same because the criminal justice system sure as hell won't protect them."

As Carson walked out the door, she reached for the phone and dialed. "You have reached the Tomaselli Detective Agency. Please leave your message and someone will be back to you within five minutes. BEEEEEEP." "Nick, this is Sarah Lyle. Zachary is getting off with a slap on the wrist. Just make sure you watch my daughter." She slammed the phone down, got up and put on her coat.
She got out of the Lincoln Town Car and looked down the block to see the same black Buick Cutlass with the same man inside that had been there for the past few weeks. She went into the apartment building and flew up the three flights of stairs. Sarah entered the apartment and turned on all the lights as usual. She placed a chair in front of the door, after checking to make sure all the locks were bolted and the windows were secure. Sarah walked around the room, incredulous, for a half an hour, saying over and over, "I don't believe this. The fucking bastard." She kept going to the window and kept seeing the same car. While she was standing, peering through the Levelors, the phone rang causing her to nearly jump out of her skin. She had been having hang-up calls ever since Zachary was arrested. Even changing her number hadn't helped. She waited for the machine to pick up.
"Mom? Mom are you in there?"
Sarah quickly picked up the receiver. "Hi, love. What's up?" she asked her daughter. Sarah had chosen not to tell Alene everything that had happened. She just cautioned her to be careful. Her daughter had never noticed anyone following her. Other than the bouquet of dead flowers sent before his arrest, Zachary seemed to be leaving Alene alone. Weekly reports from Nick were always uneventful.
Excited, Alene answered, "My boss, Jonathan Auerbach, has rented a ski lodge for the holidays and has invited all the junior people. Isn't that great, Mom?"
"Sounds like a nice man. When exactly are you going to be gone?" Sarah asked. "Well," Alene hesitated, "that's the problem. He expects everyone on Christmas night through New Year's."
"Alene, that's family time! You know it's the only time I take off from the practice. I haven't spent a great deal of time with you and I thought we would do it over the holidays."
"Mom, before you say anything else, listen. Last year the people who didn't go didn't last in the company. I know it seems mean but he needs to know that we're loyal." "
Loyal for wanting to be with your family over the holidays? Really, what a quaint idea, Alene," said Sarah with enough sarcasm in her voice you could have lifted it off with a knife.
"I knew you were going to be like this. I'm going to be with you on Christmas Eve and I won't have to leave until after lunch on Christmas Day. I was lucky to get a flight to Aspen that leaves in the afternoon. Besides, you always have a dozen people around on Christmas." Alene tried to justify her decision. "
Things are different this year," said Sarah quietly.
"That's not exactly my fault, Mother."
Sarah looked at the ceiling and willed herself not to get into a confrontation with her daughter. "Alene, I think you should do what you think is best. This is obviously very important to you. It's all right." Sarah got up and walked, carrying the phone and thought, "This isn't all right, but what can I do? I can't tell her what's really happening." She then said to her daughter, "I'll see you Christmas Eve day. Maybe we can go skating in Central Park or Rockefeller Plaza in the afternoon. Don't worry, I still love you."
"I knew you would understand. I've got to go. I'll see you in a few days. Instead of skating, though, I need to go shopping for a new ski outfit. You have great taste in things and you do want your daughter to dazzle the upper echelon. Besides, your charge accounts are better than mine. I love you, Mom."
She hung up and Sarah felt tears slide down her cheeks. Brushing them away, she dialed Francesca's number.
"Hi!" said the whimsical voice of her best friend. "'Cesca, I'm so glad you're home. I can't even begin to tell you what happened today. But first, what time are you and Lainey coming for Christmas Dinner?"
Francesca yelled, "Lainey turn down that music." Then she said to Sarah, "Want to buy a kid? Two more days and then she goes to her father's for the holidays. And, you will never believe this! Mr. Wonderful has bought tickets to the islands for the two of us."
Sarah asked, "Which Mr. Wonderful? The new one or the old one?" She could never keep up with her friend's love life.
"God, Tom could never afford to buy popcorn at the movies let alone airline tickets. You haven't met this one. With everything that has been going on with you, we haven't gone out together. But as soon as we get back, you'll meet him. Can you call in a prescription for my pills? I won't be able to get to the office tomorrow. By the way, is that car still there?"
Sarah willed herself not to cry. "Yes. Every night. Look I have to go. I'll call the pharmacy in the morning. I'll see you when you get back."
"OK. Hey, wait! What did you want to tell me?"
An ironic smile crossed Sarah's mouth and she said, "It's not important. Have a great time. Merry Christmas and Happy, Happy."

"You, too. Give Alene my love. You need to spend time together anyway. Maybe you should finally tell her about everything. I gotta go. Love ya," said Francesca and hung up. Sarah hung up the phone, checked the locks again and went into the bedroom. She locked the bedroom door, undressed and crawled into bed, all the lights were still blazing.
"You know, it's really weird, Mom. This is the first time I can ever remember not having a tree for Christmas. Why didn't you put one up this year?" asked Alene, looking around the room.
Drinking her morning coffee as the two of them were seated at the table, Sarah replied, "Well, things were a little crazy at the office as we were winding down to close for the week and the thought of dragging a tree up three flights of stairs, four if you count the outside steps, was a little more than I wanted to do. Besides, you'll have a big tree at the lodge and I won't be home much to see it."
Alene finished her scrambled eggs. "Well, it's still weird. By the way, what are you going to do this week?"
"Well, besides sleep, sleep, sleep, I'm going to do some museums, window shop. and anything else I can think of. This is when I get to catch up on all the things I don't do the rest of the year," Sarah said, smiling with forced enthusiasm.
"Well," said Alene, "I'm glad you have enough to keep you busy. I was feeling a little guilty about going to Aspen, but I don’t now that I know you have plans. When are 'Cesca and Lainey coming over?"
"Later," said Sarah. "You better get a move on or you'll miss your plane."
Alene jumped up and began checking bags and skis in a whirlwind of activity. After everything was together, she said, "Mom, I'll call you New Year's Eve."

Sarah hugged her child. "Don't you dare. Besides, when did you ever know me to stay home on New Year's Eve? Just dazzle the boss and have a great time." Sarah helped take the bags downstairs and pile them into the waiting car service Lincoln. After she kissed her daughter good-bye and waved to the departing vehicle, she looked up and down the street. No black car. Her heart raced with joy, but then quickly plummeted as the Buick turned the corner and parked it’s usual spot.
The phone rang two hours after Alene left. "This is Dr. Lyle. Please leave a message. BEEP."
"Hey, Doc, you in there?" asked Nick Tomaselli. Sarah picked up the phone.
"Yes, I'm here."
"She got on the plane for Aspen with no problems. No one followed her. I'll have friends of mine out there check on her. Now I gotta go and play Santa for my grandkids. And without the padding. Have a good Christmas, Doc. I'll speak to you when she comes back."

Sarah sighed in relief. "Thanks, Nick. You have a Merry Christmas yourself. Have fun with the little ones." Sarah hung up the phone and went to the window. The car was still there.
Dressed in an old yellowed terry cloth robe, hair uncombed, Sarah sat sideways on the white leather chair in her living room. The apartment was chilly, but she didn't feel the outside cold. In fact, she had no idea about life outside of her two rooms. She had slept fitfully during the days and walked the floors at night for the past week. Waiting. Just waiting for Zachary to make a move. She stared blankly at the activity on the television screen. The sound of Dick Clark wafted from it. "It's the New Year's Rockin' Eve countdown. We're live here in Times Square. Less than sixty seconds left, ladies and gentleman. Forty-five seconds. Thirty seconds and a new year is almost upon us. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two...Happy New Year!"
Horns blared and noise-makers squealed. Strains of Auld Lang Syne broke from the doors and windows of the homes of holiday revelers. He sat staring at the dim flickering light from the edges of the third floor window. Once again he fingered the vial in his overcoat pocket, checking around the top to be sure the battery acid had not begun to erode through the top. She hadn't left her apartment for days. He became aware of the sounds of the New Year and started the silver Mercedes with black-tinted windows. Flashing his lights to a black car parked across the street from him, he pulled from his parking space. As he went past her apartment, he saluted her front stoop and said, "I'll be back, Sarah." Zachary drove away to celebrate his own holiday.
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