Months has passed since the killing stopped. The police had no clues to who the killer was, no prints, nothing for them to go on. The pimps left alive have left for somewhere that they were not the hunted. More help arrived in the form of social services and programs to help the girls return to a normal life. The Sex Trade in Duluth was no longer.
Dee sat in her office. She had more help and money to help those in need. She felt good, being able to help was good for her, and good for the girls and community.
As she sat there, there were questions in her mind that needed to be answered. Were the killing the only way to clean up the city. Granted, they were pimps and drug dealers who made their living off human misery. Forcing women into lives that only had one way out, death. But the killing was a savage way to deal with the problem. Her moral compass was off kilter, she could not condone the killing but could not condemn it either.
She wondered about the strange man that came into her office that night and of the old Indian that told her the story of Stone Hand. Was any of this real, or was it just coincidence. What was the real truth here, she thought to herself.
She had never told the police about the old Indian or about Stone Hand. Was that wrong, or was she simply protecting herself or hoping that he would kill all the pimps and drug dealers.
She left for home, that night her sleep was not sound, it was filled with dreams, dreams that didn't make any sense to her.
The next moring she fixed breakfast and drank her coffee musing about the men in her life, one a stranger, the other an old Indian. Laughing, she thought that her life was really dull. She hadn't been on a date in years, her work with the girls had taken over her life, but it was all worth it, as she could see the results. Results that were pleasing to her and the girls.
Driving to work, to her store front clinic, the day was bright, the streets free of the scum that only a year ago were in control. She parked her car in the lot and started walking to the short distance to her office.
Sitting at her desk, which had replaced the old beat up table that she had used before, she was talking to a co-worker when she looked up over the womans shoulder and there standing at the glass door that read ''Women Services'', was the old Indian, looking in and smiling at her. His beat up levi jacket and worn jeans caught her eye, startled at the clothes that he was wearing she rubbed her eyes. Those clothes belonged to Stone Hand not the old Indian. She jumped up from her chair and started towards the door. The old Indian smiled and hung something on the door, turned and walked away.
She swung the door open and called to him, he kept walking, not turning back. She looked at the door and there hung a ''Dream Catcher''..There would be no more bad dreams for Dee.
Kavika 2012. All rights reserved.