Christopher Malone

Bong Trees in Bellingham Christopher Malone

I don't remember much after that. I do remember an attendant saying, "You two are the lucky ones. You wouldn't believe how many dead ones we give rides to. Skiers, snowboarders, avalanches, heart attacks" I fell asleep. When we arrived at St. Joseph's Hospital in Bellingham, I was wheeled to a private room, and lifted into a bed. I was given some hot soup. Then I fell asleep. I awoke a while later. I don't know what time it was. There were people around my bed asking questions, the press, I thought. I don't remember the questions or my answers. Then they went away. A while later, I was awakened by a loud male voice outside, shouting, "Where in hell has she been for the last four days" A woman's shrill voice was demanding, "Who is this person she was with" A few moments later, a female nurse came in with a large man in hospital greens, and two uniformed officers. They stood by my bed. "Hamlin Cross, you are under arrest for the crime of first-degree kidnapping. You have the right to remain silent" And I felt one hold my arm down, as the other snapped handcuffs on my wrist, and around the bed rail. A twelve-year-old girl named Missy has been kidnapped and molested. Or has she? She insists that it didn't happen. He says he didn't do it. But her parents, the police, Child Protective Services, and the court don't agree with their stories. He is convicted and imprisoned. Years later, a young woman and an ex-con join forces to confront the liars who were lined up against them, to achieve vindication . . . and revenge. After the blood is washed away, there remain the victorious two . . . and a love story.