Chapter 1: Chapter 1
From grade school to high school, Amber Mullin was always voted the prettiest girl in her class. There weren't that many pretty girls in the southwest Baltimore neighborhood where she had lived her entire life. It was a place of two and three-story, nineteenth-century row homes of red brick, some covered with Formstone. A century earlier, the place had been home to Irish-American railroad workers, and a century later, its status as a blue-collar, mostly all-white, working-class neighborhood had not changed. It was a gritty place with gritty people, people who worked hard at vocational and labor-intensive jobs, people who didn't ask for or expect handouts.
Amber worked part-time through high school at Elite, a dry-cleaning business, and then full-time after graduation. On weekends, she spent most of her time with Frank Hill, her steady boyfriend. Frank knew he was a lucky guy. Amber, as he was wont to say, was "the greatest thing this boy had ever found," quoting a favorite Top-40 oldie of his.
Amber lived with her parents and usually took a bus to work, about ten miles from her home. It was located in a strip mall in an upscale part of the city. She admired, if not envied the single, spacious homes of the surrounding neighborhood and the fine clothes many of her customers wore. They talked like they were educated, unlike the people where she lived, a place where too many dropped out of high school, a place where college was an all but impossible dream.
Douglas Gibbens was one of her customers. She wasn't sure what he did, but whatever it was, it paid well, judging from the expensive looking suits he brought in for cleaning. He was goodlooking, too, looked like a younger version of those British guys who played James Bond. She knew he drove a sports car, having seen him pull into the lot which faced the big picture window of Elite.
At first, she called him Mr. Gibbens, even though he didn't look more than a few years older than she. Then, months down the road, after he had become a regular customer, they got on a firstname basis. "You can call me Doug," he had said after he began calling her Amber. He was always pleasant, always smiling.
One day, she got up the nerve to ask what he did. "My family owns a few businesses," he said. "An automobile dealership and a clothing store We're also into commercial real estate." He pulled a business card from his wallet and handed it to her.
She wondered what family he meant, if it included a wife. She didn't think so. Either that or he didn't wear his wedding ring. She sensed that he found her pretty, just by the way he looked at her. It was a look she knew well. Her long blond hair, blue eyes and wide smile, coupled with her slim, shapely figure, got her noticed. She was used to that sort of male attention, though she never tired of it. She sometimes wondered if it could be her ticket to a better life.
She turned the card over. "Do you sell women's clothes too?"
He nodded. "Absolutely. If you or any of your girlfriends need clothes, check us out. And that goes for cars also."
Amber could barely afford new clothes and buying her own car at that time was out of the question. Her family had but one car, an aging Chevy. "Well, maybe in a couple years," she said. "I've been saving for a car. Anyway, my boyfriend drives me around on weekends."
"Ah, your boyfriend," he said, handing his soiled clothes to her over the counter. "Pretty girls like you always have a boyfriend. Going steady, are you?"
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