Chapter One

Bette

The only thing I ever wanted to be was a cop. My Father was a cop on the streets of Chicago and his Father before him. I attended the University of Illinois at Chicago and eventually earned a Masters of Arts in Criminal Justice. My advisor wanted to recommend me to federal agencies like the DEA or the FBI, based on my high academic ranking. I told him thank you, but no, I wanted to work the streets of Chicago. It’s in my blood, my family DNA I suppose.

After I passed the written exam, I was placed on a prequalified applicant list based on the lottery system. As positions became available, the applicants on the waiting list would be called for further processing. Even though there was a hiring freeze and hundreds of people had passed the exam before me, my application was green-lighted right away, due to my family connections and my advanced degree. My best friend Big Johnnie was in my same graduating class at the Academy and had to wait another 6 months to get in.

Once I had the stability of a job and a bright future, I proposed marriage to my long-term girlfriend, a nice woman named Bette, who I had been in a relationship with for 4 years. We met at UIC as undergraduates and she was so pretty I fell in love with her almost immediately. To my surprise Bette said yes and I bought her the most expensive engagement ring I could afford. I was so grateful to her for agreeing to marry me. I didn’t expect it to work out due to the way I looked. You see, my face is a mess. I’m ugly, scary ugly.

I was just a kid in my first year of high school in Chicago when it happened. I was on my way home one day when I saw two older kids, seniors at my school, drag this older woman into an alley behind a liquor store and attempt to take off her clothes. My Dad always taught me to do the right thing so I didn’t think twice to run over and help the woman. She was crying and her clothes were torn, but I managed to fight off the bigger kids so she could get away unharmed and unmolested. The boys were angry I broke up their little party. They got in a few good licks but so did I, even though I was outnumbered. I was pretty winded when one of them took out a knife and slashed me across the face before I had a chance to react. The boys ran off and left me on the curb, bleeding profusely. I managed to stumble into the store and the cashier called an ambulance.

I nearly lost my right eye. After hours of surgery I was OK, except for the Frankenstein stitches running across my face, closing a wide gash from just above my cheek bone to my lip. Later, Dad and I hunted down those kids and we pressed charges, getting them a nice stint in Juvie. Hopefully it did them some good. When they got out a few years later they came by the house to apologize. Being raised a Christian I was expected to forgive them for disfiguring me, so I shook their ha