Home for the Holidays Ch. 05

"And the extra point is good!" said the announcer. "It's 38-38, the Wildcats have caught up, they have erased a 17 point deficit." I could barely hear him; the Rose Bowl crowd wearing red was going bonkers.

The Wildcats defense, which had played at a championship level during the second half, did not permit the Gators to cross the 50 yard line. "And we're going to overtime!"

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The Wildcats won the toss and elected to play defense. The lights were on and the sun was well over the horizon, leaving the sky in darkness. The Gators were going left-to-right as we were watching.

"And the Gator quarterback takes the snap and OH! was he hit!" said the announcer. "Davis Smith went right between two Gator linemen and just smoked the quarterback. He is getting up slowly."

"Another clean, legal hit." said the color analyst. "The Wildcats have really kept their cool during the game, even after being down and then after the choke signs and dirty hits by the other team."

"And the Gators try a draw play, it gets nowhere." said the announcer. "Davis Smith is showing why he is an All-American as a Freshman. He has brutalized the Gators today."

The third down play was a completed pass, but only gained 8 yards, short of the first down. "And what a hit by Gregg Scott!" said the announcer. "I'm stunned the receiver held on to the ball, but he did not get one inch after the catch!"

The field goal team came on. "And the kick is up-- it's blocked! They blocked the kick! Gregg Scott blocked the kick! The ball bounces through the end zone. The Wildcats will have the ball, and they only need a field goal to win!"

Laura and I were two of the red-clad people in the stands that were going nuts. My voice was already hoarse. We then quietened down to watch the Wildcats go to work. The Florida fans were screaming at our team, fighting for their team's life.

"First down, a handoff to Appletree off right tackle, he's hit right at the line." said the announcer. Second-and-eleven... and Johnson is in motion to the left! He's lined up as a wide receiver. Jamaal Washington is behind center in the 'Wildcat' formation. He takes the snap... he takes off to the left... and Johnson throws a block! Jamaal Washington rounds the corner! He's streaking down the left sideline, they won't get him! Washington scores! It's all over! The Wildcats have won the National Championship!!"

As Laura and I hugged and cheered, I heard the announcer say "The quarterback Johnson threw a huge block! He sprang Washington, Washington did the rest, and the Crystal Trophy is coming home to join this year's Heisman Trophy!"

Laura and I were still hugging and hopping up and down, then we high-fived all the Wildcat fans around us. Then I looked back to the field and watched as a mass of humanity in white shirts and gold pants were piled up and celebrating in the end zone. Finally it unwound, and Jamaal Washington came out from the pile...

We stayed and watched the Crystal Trophy celebration. After it was over, we began making out way out of the stadium. We were looking for our shuttle when a voice called out "Commander Troy!" I looked over, and saw Claire Michaels and Tal Shiarr, in LAPD uniforms. "Why don't you ride with us? We can get you out of here a lot faster."

As we rode to our hotel, Shiarr said "We've contacted Professor Steele about that pattern our serial killer is making. You may have been right about that pattern..."

Part 27 - Epilogue

The next morning, Laura and I got to LAX and boarded our flight to the City. It was full of Wildcat fans, many of them either still intoxicated or badly hung over from partying the night before.

Even though the Wildcats won, I would arrange for the Wildcat ticket office to send Coach Spurrier a couple of tickets to the Wildcats-Bulldogs game the next October. And the Coach would make good on his side of the bargain: he sent me two tickets to the Wednesday practice rounds at the upcoming Masters golf tournament in April.

As Laura slept on the flight, I was reflecting on things. Seeing my Wildcats win the National Championship was awesome, of course. Seeing my mentor Griswold being sworn in as Sheriff was just as good, if not better. Celebrating Christmas with friends and family, especially my daughter Carole after the attempt on her life the year before, was 'eeeeeeven better', as she would say.

And perhaps best of all, seeing Teresa Croyle finally overcome the years of pain, of suffering, and come to peace with her sister's death and her father's insanity was a great, great thing.

All was good, for now. But that was about to change. The Party never stops... in my Town and County...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

When Laura went into her office the next morning, a sealed manila envelope was on her desk. She saw where it had come from, and she sat down and composed herself before opening it.

She was helping keep Betsy in the room where she'd kept Carole and Jim in their infancies, with Callie nearby and watching over Betsy as well. Therefore, it had been easy to get a cheek swab from Betsy and send it in for DNA testing. And those results were back.

Also in the envelope was the DFACS report on Betsy and their DNA testing. The Von Teslings had had a daughter, who was the birth mother of the child.

She read the DNA report. There was no doubt that her husband Don was the biological father of Betsy. And the other DNA report confirmed that the mother was the woman Don and Cindy had brought to the City in the Film Noir case, when he'd been shot in the back...

...Betty Von Telsing Morelli.

Finis.