I'm still too shaken to write about what happened. It just was too close. Way too close

Midnight stays one step ahead of us, no matter what we do.


Everything is in place for a meeting with Midnight at a downtown hotel, four days from now.


There isn't any way she can get in the room without having police officers and detectives all over her. Across the atrium, a sniper will be ready. I just have to leave the sliding door and curtains open. 

Hope this sting works. I've gotten used to living.


So far, we've moved forward -- not at all.  More and more questions with no answers. Who is Midnight? Who is JR? Is he really dead or not? Who is J.R. Olson? Who? Who? Who?

One good thing has come from this impossible puzzle -- Lisa. I think I may actually ... no, too soon to think along those lines.


I haven't written in my journal lately because I haven't had anything to report -- except frustration and aggravation.

We find more "accidental" deaths followed by a Norma Fields receiving a huge accidental life benefit, but we don't find her.

One dead end after another. A killer on the loose who wants me on her list of victims.


Keeping Midnight interested, without showing my distrust and disgust, is becoming harder and harder. She's now the one pressing for us to meet. Ironic, isn't it? I tried for months to get her to meet me, and now that I need more time, she becomes anxious.

Midnight's latest surprise - she called me. Yes, an actual phone call. Her voice is husky, but sexy in a way. I couldn't believe she's coming out of hiding after all this time. I wonder why now?

I had the department put a tap on my phone in case she called again. One more lead to follow.

Where are you Midnight/Norma Fields? What are you?


Midnight wants us to meet. I'm not strong enough yet, even if I am gaining some use of my legs.

Even if Frank and Kyle have the coverage ready, I'm not.

Strange that I chased after Midnight for so long, and now she is pressing me.

If I can just keep her interested and waiting until I have some use of my legs.

I never knew this much fear, not even after I was shot. The team will have me covered, but I feel I must be able to defend myself. I'm afraid I may never be able to.

Life is odd.


Man, where was my mind? How did I become so involved with Midnight, someone I don't know and probably never will?

She hid herself very well. Can't find a Norma Fields anywhere in the Oklahoma City area, or anywhere in Oklahoma. Traced the ISP from her email - not anywhere around here. Even the answering service she gave me leads nowhere.

But, I'm determined to find her, even if I use myself as bait. Now, if I can keep her interested until we can set a trap.


This “relationship,” if I can call it that, just became interesting again last night, but in a different way. Midnight told me she lives off Northwest Expressway, nothing else. When I pressed her, told her I thought maybe we should cool things, she sent me an email attachment: a photo of a beautiful woman she says is her.

I’m no longer interested in her as a woman, no way. A short time before I was shot, a paraplegic went off a balcony and landed on the ground of the atrium of a local hotel. No one could discover how he went over. What wasn’t reported in the news – a folded copy of this photo found in his pocket. – the same picture she sent me. 

I want to solve that murder, and Midnight, Norma Fields, is involved some way.

Midnight, I’m going to find you.  I WILL find you.


This woman is driving me nuts. It took months before Midnight told me her real name is Norma Fields, but she won’t give me any more details. I’ve told her practically everything there is to know about me, including the fact I can’t walk.

This game of hers of not sharing is beginning to bore me a bit. It was fun for a while, kept me from thinking about myself so much. Maybe it’s time for me to find something else as an escape mechanism.

It’s nearly midnight. I’ll try again to persuade her to tell me about herself, maybe where she lives.


It's nearing midnight & I don't know how much longer I can stand this pain.

Therapy just triggers more pain and frustration. I don’t know if I’ll ever walk again, and who’s ever heard of a detective in a power chair. Ironsides was a fictitious TV character, so he doesn’t count.

At least Midnight helps me escape for a short time in the early morning hours. I don’t understand why she never comes on the game site until midnight each night, but she keeps me guessing.

Nearly midnight, better close this blog and get to the game site.