She didn't have to count the rings any more, the sound was imprinted in her brain, indelibly."Hello?" Yes, he's locking the garage door now. Hold on a...minute..."Unavoidably, she knew it was work. Probably some tip on the drug bust, she guessed. But who could tell? The underground policemen with whom Art worked seemed to communicate in a secret language that she couldn't decipher.Hearing clomping in the hallway, Kathy turned in time to hand Art the receiver, shooting him a warning glance, silent. Now, we were forced to live on what they had saved.Our home was secure and paid for. One of the nicest in the immediate area. A big Dutch Colonial.Through the resulting weeks, dad had taken to heavy drinking. Going out in the early afternoon and coming in completely plastered. Mom had always had a warm dinner ready on the table for him.Many times he would start swearing, yelling and even throwing the dinner across the kitchen or dining room. Then he started to become more and more violent in. More

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