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description has come to them for help?” Mary asked.
    Stanley was confused. “If she came to them for help, how could she have been killed by her abuser?”
    “The average abused woman leaves her abuser about seven or eight times before she finally leaves him permanently,” Rosie explained. “She keeps going back, thinking it will be okay. Hoping that he’ll change.”
    “But he ain’t gonna change,” Stanley said. “Why should he, if she always comes back.”
    Rosie nodded. “You’re right,” she said. “He won’t change without a lot of help. And he still might not change.”
    Stanley got up and paced around the kitchen, visibly upset by the conversation. Finally he walked back to the table, placed his hands on the edge and leaned toward Rosie. “You said that sometimes the people who see the abuse grow up and let themselves get abused. Is that happening to you? Are you letting someone hurt you?”
    Tears glistened in Rosie’s eyes as she stood up. “No, when I saw what was happening to my mother, I vowed I would never let something like that happen to me,” she said. “But thank you, dear friend, for worrying about me.”
    She leaned across the table and gently kissed him on the cheek. Stanley turned beet red and shrugged. “Well, hell, you didn’t have to go and do that,” he muttered. “But, well, you’re welcome.”
    Rosie smiled and sat back down. “So, what are the next steps to find out what happened to our ghost?” she asked.
    “I’m going to meet with the Director at VOICES tomorrow,” Bradley said. “The information they get from their clients is confidential, so I’m not sure how far I’ll get. But since this is a suspected murder, she might be able to at least point me in the right direction.”
    “That would be great,” Mary said. “I’m going to pay a visit to the Coroner and see if she has any Jane Does or anyone who died of unexplained causes.”
    “How old was she, Mary?” Stanley asked.
    “I’m really bad at guessing ages,” she admitted, biting her lower lip in concentration. “But I would say in her mid-thirties. Why?”
    “Well, if the husband was about her age, then his mother would have left them about twenty to twenty-five years ago,” he replied. “I’ll ask around, see if anyone remembers something like that.”
    “Excellent idea,” Mary said. “I’d think something like that would be talked about for a while.”
    “Mary, when you see her again,” Rosie added. “Tell her it wasn’t her fault. Tell her she didn’t cause it. Tell her that no matter what, there is never an excuse for one person to hit another person. Ever!”

Chapter 9
    Mary watched from the door as Stanley walked Rosie to her car. He was more solicitous than usual, lightly touching her elbow to guide her around patches of snow and ice.
    “I don’t know who was more shook up about this whole conversation,” Bradley commented, standing directly behind Mary, “Stanley or Rosie.”
    Mary hugged herself and leaned back against Bradley. “It’s hard to imagine a childhood with a father like that,” she said. “I often forget how lucky I am.”
    Bradley wrapped his arms around Mary and placed a kiss on the top of her head. “Yeah, I was lucky too. My parents really loved each other and they showed it every day.”
    “And you and Jeannine?” Mary asked, hating herself for asking.
    “We loved each other,” he said. “And we respected each other. I still don’t understand why she left me.”
    Mary closed the door and turned around in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his waist, laid her head against his chest and hugged him. “I know in my heart that she didn’t leave you,” she whispered. “I don’t know what happened to her, but she would have never left you.”
    Bradley laid his head on top of hers and returned the hug. “Thanks,” he said. “That means a lot to me.”
    She stepped back and smiled up at him, though her heart was heavy with guilt. “So, what