Chapter 1 I badly needed a fresh start. As a single mother working hard to raise two children with no support, little money to spare and few luxuries, moving from Los Angeles to a place in the heartland seemed the right thing to do. As a child I had always been part of a close family relationship and felt my children would benefit from exposure to the extended family I had there, learning the strong moral lessons and codes that taught me to be responsible for others and distinguish right from wrong. My mother, who owned several rental properties in Oklahoma, offered to let me live in one fully furnished. New furniture and no rent sounded better than the high cost of living back in Los Angeles, so I packed up our belongings and we headed to Oklahoma. The bus ride from Los Angeles to Oklahoma wasn't the most pleasant one, especially with two young children wanting to run away at every rest stop to explore. The long hours and monotonous scenery dragged on from yellow field to yellow field, making me momentarily reconsider my decision. When the bus finally stopped in Oklahoma, my Aunt Clara was waiting for us. She scooped up Sam and Jessica in one arm each and drew them to her bosom, smothering them with kisses and bear-hugs. As their tiny faces squeezed to a purplish-blue I worried I might have to intervene and pry them free from Clara's ecstatic embrace. Luckily Uncle Ted showed up just in time. "Clara, let 'em go! You're gonna crush 'em," he said with a quiet patience, obviously having faced her enthusiastic hugs numerous times before. Just seeing my aunt and uncle standing before me brought back all the memories of my childhood. Seeing smiles on my kids' faces and eager relatives willing to help, I really believed I had left my old life behind and a fresh start was before me. Uncle Ted and Aunt Clara let us stay with them for a few days until our furniture arrived from storage. The kids spent most of their time running around and playing outside while I tried to plan our new future. They adapted well to the laid-back lifestyle of Oklahoma; the long summer days, Aunt Clara's homemade ice cream and vegetables straight from the garden seemed to suit them fine. I, on the other hand, was having a much more difficult time adjusting; perhaps what I thought I wanted was not what I needed. I felt trapped by the slow pace of life out there. Los Angeles was always on the go, with new faces and things to do. That palpable buzz of energy had evaporated in the endless fields of farmland and while life may have been simpler it was certainly not as exciting. Other than getting used to country life versus country living there were a whole host of new problems that Oklahoma presented. Work was hard to find in the small town in which we settled, at least enough work to support a single mother with two children. While my relatives offered to help out with my financial responsibilities where they could, I didn't want handouts and started to feel like I was becoming a burden. The townspeople seemed standoffish from the start. Most of the salt-of-the-earth people seemed to keep us at a distance, since few remembered me as the little girl who often visited there. That attitude made it especially hard for Sam and Jessica to get to know other kids and I felt they thought me a city slicker. The humidity was brutal that summer. The only relief came from the occasional downpour of rain that cooled off the night air after thunder and lightning storms. When the rain stopped, we often sat on the front porch, watching lightning bugs flicker in the night sky. On one of those lonely nights I was surprised when a woman, not much older than me, yelled a friendly hello from across the street, beckoning us over. I was anxious to make a friend. Taking my children's hands, I walked across the street to her front lawn. "I'm Gayle," she said with a deep southern accent and a smile so warm and sympathetic you couldn't help but crack a grin in return. I soon found Gayle to be one of the most down-to-earth people I'd ever met. Before I knew it we became close friends. But as August approached, the children began to miss their old friends and school, and I too found myself missing Los Angeles more and more. Despite Gayle's camaraderie and my family's constant support, I made the decision to move back to Los Angeles. My mother wasn't happy and felt I hadn't given Oklahoma enough time. Maybe she was right. I was there for no more than a summer, but in my gut I knew I didn't belong there; it didn't feel like home. My aunt agreed to keep my youngest child, Sam, until Jessica and I got settled, which I promised her wouldn't be very long. I knew there would be things I would miss about Oklahoma. That close net of family love I experienced, the wonderful scenery and the slow pace--there were times when it was nice not to be in a rush. Arriving in California, Jessica and I stayed with a close friend, Holly, until I could save up enough money to get our own place and bring Sam there. It was difficult with him so far away. Not knowing how he was doing at every moment made me neurotic beyond description. I forced myself to limit my phone calls to one a day, or else Sam might act out and Aunt Clara wouldn't be able to handle him. Despite my anxiety over Sam, the pace of Los Angeles suited me much better than what I experienced in Oklahoma. My old life was suddenly new again; one day I ran into an old friend, Bob, who had started his own package delivery business. I stopped to say hello and we began to talk, catching up on all the missed times in mere minutes. Bob, knowing I'd been away, asked, "Are you dating anyone?" I brushed off his question. "I doubt I'd ever meet a man who would really love my children and me, and we're a package deal." He laughed. "Why don't you let me introduce you to someone I think you'd like? I just delivered a package to this guy; his name's David. He owns a small movie studio over there," pointing up the street. "He was up for an Academy Award for Young Sherlock Holmes. He's nice, handsome, single . . ." Timidly, I shook my head. "Maybe some other time," I told him. Bob shrugged, said goodbye and continued his delivery route. I stood there, intrigued. It had been years since I'd even given a man half a chance, too afraid that the children and I would get hurt again. I remembered feelings I once had of being in love and they brought a dreamy smile to my face. Maybe Bob was right; maybe it was time to give myself a second chance. I knew my biggest problem in connecting with a man wasn't my looks but overcoming my shyness; when meeting strangers I always stammered and blushed in embarrassment. A few mid-afternoon raindrops pelted me out of my daydream and I decided, right then and there, I had nothing to lose. Taking hold of my confidence, I walked the few blocks to the movie studio Bob had told me about. Standing in the small parking lot, I suddenly felt my stomach do an anxious back-flip and I chickened out. Impulsively, I thought of another way of meeting David. I grabbed a pen and paper from my purse and, as a light rain began to fall, quickly wrote a silly note, saying, "You shouldn't leave your car window open," followed by my name and number. I slipped the note into the open window of the only car in the lot and ran back down the street like a frightened deer. Since my dating skills were so rusty, I felt my only chance was on the phone, where I could be a little braver and less anxious without a face looking back at me. A day passed and I became anxious that David still hadn't called. Perhaps I was more desperate than I thought; one day and I was already stalking the phone like a hungry leopard. I started making excuses. Maybe the rain ruined my note, maybe he stayed in his office so long that when he came out the ink had bled to an unreadable mess. Or maybe he just threw my note away. Oh, I was so stupid to leave a note! Who would leave a note in a stranger's car and expect a date? "Will you stop pacing the floor and sit down for a minute! You're making me nervous just watching you," Holly said with a smirk. "Oh, I'm sorry, Holly. I just . . . well, I just haven't been out with a guy for so long--I haven't even talked to a guy that I liked for so long." I sat down next to her on the couch. I was so nervous that if I didn't sit on my hands they would start flailing in the air like those of a mad woman. "Relax, Donita!" Holly told me. "It will work out. Pacing the floor and talking to yourself isn't going to attract too many guys." I laughed. "I guess you're right. Stay calm, stay relaxed and what will happen will happen. Right?" "Right--or he'll never call!" "Holly!" I half-screamed before laughing out loud at my own neurotic behavior. "I'm going to go pick up Jessica. If anyone should call--a guy, a realtor, the president--just take a message." When I returned that afternoon, Holly was on the phone. "Hold on, she just walked through the door." Immediately a puzzled look crossed my face. I wasn't actually expecting anyone to call. She came into the living room with a wide smile on her face and said, "A man by the name of David is on the phone, asking to talk to you. He sounds pretty sexy!" Surprised by the call and Holly's brashness, I felt my cheeks blush a deep shade of red. I nervously picked up the phone, not really sure of what to say. I paused for a few moments, trying to hold on to my fleeing composure. When we finally began to speak David didn't seem to have those problems. He was charming and friendly, making me feel welcome and special. And as my shyness melted at the sound of his deep voice we talked and talked like old friends--he made it too easy for me. As our long conversation wound down, David asked if I'd like to see if the face matched the voice, leaving me even more intrigued. I agreed to have dinner with him the following night. As I hung up the phone, a renewed memory of love flew me into the bedroom giddy with excitement. I stretched out on my bed, my head swimming with a spinning sensation. Soon I heard the footsteps of Jessica and Holly practically running full speed into my room and just as I thought, they wanted to hear a little gossip. I told them all about David and the plans for our dinner date the next night and I agreed with Holly, he did have a sexy voice. I was glad to see how happy Jessica was for me. I think she knew, even at her young age, how lonely being single could be and how happy the possibility of romance made me. Her support was what mattered most. The next day inched by and that night, as I frantically searched the closet trying to find the perfect dress to wear, I felt like a teenager going on her first date. I was beyond nervous as I waited for David to pick me up, not sure what to expect. Jessica and Holly just stared at me in disbelief from the couch as I kept looking out the window for David's car. Soon a sleek maroon Jaguar pulled up to the building. He was a few minutes late, not that I was glaring at my watch counting the time: When I finally saw David face to face, I found myself pleasantly surprised at how attractive he was. David was a handsome man with short, wavy brown hair, sky blue eyes and a wide smile that seemed to cover his face with warmth. He was a little on the short side, but so am I. He wore black business slacks and a blue button-down shirt, probably just coming from the office, and carried himself with an upright self-confidence as he marched up the stairs to the apartment. Sometime between his arrival and the restaurant he took me to, he introduced himself to me, though I honestly can't remember the exchange that took place. I think I was that taken by him. On our way to the restaurant, David kept turning to me and smiling. "You really are very pretty," he said over and over. He was such a gentleman; all my other boyfriends only complimented me when they wanted a cold beer or a sandwich. But before I got my hopes up, I felt I should tell David up front that I had two children. It was something I didn't want to do, because it usually sent men running and I didn't want David to go anywhere. However, if tonight went well he wouldn't only be dating me; eventually he would be dating my kids as well. I knew I couldn't suspend any longer the fairy tale I had been imagining. I took a deep breath and told him, "I have two kids from a previous relationship, but it's over between us. I just thought you should know. I didn't want to surprise you." I waited silently for his answer, biting my lip and crossing my fingers. David replied, "I'm divorced. I have a thirteen-year-old son, who lives with his mother in northern California." His sincerity relieved me greatly. Now that our kids were out in the open, I told myself I could relax and get to know David better. Without pausing, he told me all about himself: that he was forty-six, lived in Burbank and worked in the movie business. I was surprised at how much older David was than me, because he looked a lot younger, but I wasn't about to let the nearly twenty-year age gap bother me. I was already attracted to him and wanted to get to know him. He pulled his Jaguar up to the front of a fancy French restaurant, and a valet attendant, dressed in a little red vest and bow tie, opened my door for me; soon he was off parking the car. I wasn't used to such luxurious treatment and I almost wanted to tell David not to give his keys to a complete stranger. I couldn't believe how well the evening was going. David held doors open for me and pulled out my chair. I thought he seemed very sweet and gentle and smart and sophisticated--the perfect man. With all the wonderful things happening to me on my first date back in the social scene, I felt guilty and a little uncomfortable. The restaurant's menu was in French, so I had no idea what I was ordering. All I understood were the hefty prices tacked onto the ends of the descriptions. I made out a few words and ordered the cheapest entrée there was. Even though I wasn't paying I couldn't forget that I didn't have a job yet and was living off an ever-shrinking bank account. The meal was delicious--the best since I left Aunt Clara's cooking in Oklahoma. Afterward David and I split a dessert--one plate, two forks! After dinner, David asked if I'd like to see his movie studio and the posters of films he'd worked on. The date couldn't be going any better; I nodded my head and just waited for someone to pinch me from my dream. I have to admit, when we arrived at the studio it did seem a little scary at night with no lights and long dark hallways, but I felt more secure with David. He carried himself with a self-confidence that completely overshadowed my shyness. David gave me a private tour of the studio, showing me all the fancy, complex equipment he used to film his pictures. David began explaining the long path of his career; how he started out doing animation and puppets for such programs as Gumby and Davey and Goliath. He also worked on commercials, helping to create characters such as Mrs. Butterworth, the Pillsbury Doughboy and the Planter's Peanut mascot. He had been working in the field for over twenty-five years and easily rattled off the names of the old Hollywood special effects masters he studied under to learn his craft. Proud of his work, David told me his visual effects work on Young Sherlock Holmes garnered him an Academy Award nomination. I was impressed, but even more impressive was that David didn't act with a huge ego. We strolled down the halls of the studio looking at the posters of movies he had either been a special effects advisor on or directed. I didn't know all of the films, but some clearly jumped out at me: When Dinosaurs Ruled the Earth, Twilight Zone: The Movie, Dolls, Ghoulies II, Batteries Not Included, Willow, Honey, I Shrunk the Kids II, Ghostbusters II and others. It seemed that David had an interesting story or funny anecdote to tell for each film. I asked him to tell me about Q--The Winged Serpent, a film Jessica and I had actually just watched days before. As he told me a story about the filming I couldn't stop staring at him; the whole experience seemed to be a pleasant dream. The man I was with had created movies the whole world enjoyed. His specialty was stop-motion animation, the technique used to film the special effects in movies like King Kong and Clash of the Titans. They made miniatures, complex puppets really, and then filmed them one frame at a time, stopping to adjust the direction of the movement ever so slightly. I was a little lost on the concept. "Almost like a picture flip-book, but instead of drawing and flipping pages to make the character move, we make models and film them one stage at a time," David explained. He said that the process was exhausting and tedious, but the results were well worth it. He did other special effects too, often supervising a whole film, but he was best known for stop-motion animation. Sadly, he told me, computerized graphics on films such as Jurassic Park would soon become the standard in Hollywood, making stop-motion animation a nearly dead art. David took me to a small design room that held various puppets he was using to direct his latest movie, Puppet Master II. The puppets looked a little devilish, but David explained the film was a horror movie. He showed me the mechanics of each puppet: the complex system of moveable joints, hinges and rods that made the puppets come to life. Showing off, David made the puppets do a funny dance for me. Watching the intricate workings of the puppets and listening to David's explanation of how to film frame-by-frame made me realize how hard a worker he was. It took countless hours, dedication and passion to put together a movie of his. Those were the qualities that immediately drew me to David. I had completely lost track of time at the studio and when I realized how late it was I made David drive me home so I could get up early and send Jessica off to school. I knew my children were my first priority and always would be, but I saw how easily it was to fall in love with a man like David. As he drove me home, David reached over and gently held my hand. My heart jumped a beat and I knew, at that very moment, I was enthralled by him. He pulled up to my apartment and leaned over to kiss me on my cheek, politely asking if he could call me tomorrow to make another date. Feeling like I was on cloud nine, I quickly said, "Yes." After saying goodnight to David, I danced into the apartment and plopped down on the couch right next to Holly. "I want to marry that man one day!" I said, blushing. "But you just met him," Holly replied, laughing. I shook my head. "I have never believed in love at first sight, but I believe it now." And as I sank deeper into the couch I realized how true it was. With each date my feelings for David grew deeper and my day-to-day activities seemed to be less important. Jessica and I moved into a new apartment with my friends Dena and Kelly. I didn't want to leave Holly, but the rent was cheaper. And with cheaper rent I could save up some money for my own apartment and finally bring Sam home to Los Angeles. Holly still kept in touch with me, wanting to know how my relationship with David was going. A couple of days after we moved into the new apartment, David came over to pick me up for a date. It was the first time that Dena and Kelly met David. Our dinner reservations made it necessary to keep the introductions quick and we barely had enough time to say goodnight to Jessica and leave the restaurant's phone number before David whisked me out the door for a romantic evening. I wanted my friends to get to know David and like him as much as I loved him, but that evening our time was short. When I returned later that night, I found Dena and Kelly sitting on the couch with serious looks on both their faces. "Sit down," Dena said softly. "Yes, do," Kelly echoed. I grew concerned and my mind raced with the outrageous scenarios that could be behind their dour faces. "Is something wrong with Jess?" I asked in a panic. "No, no," they both chimed in. I let out a sigh of relief, but as they began to express how happy they were that I'd met someone, I noticed the worry in their voices. "We have a funny feeling about David, although we aren't sure what it is," Dena said. "Maybe you should go slower." Outside of my kids no one made me happier than David, so I wrote off their premonitions. "You're being silly," I said. I had every intention of continuing to see David. "David treats me well and I think I love him." "That's what we're talking about--you've known him four weeks!" Dena said. I could tell from their faces they both felt strongly about this conversation. "We're not saying stop . . . just take a step back and slow down," Kelly added. "That's what I'm doing. I'm taking it one step at a time," I replied. The bitterness and insincerity in my voice must have been obvious. I wasn't about to slow down with David when it felt so natural to me. All three of us left the fruitless discussion and went to our bedrooms, frustration still steaming under our breaths. The following day my son, Sam, arrived in California. Jessica and I both were so excited to have him home. I couldn't wait for David to meet him. When I phoned David at the studio, he suggested we all go out to dinner that night. Although the kids felt strange sharing their mother with a new man, they wanted to try to get to know him. Smiling, David entered the apartment, giving me a kiss on the cheek. He smiled at the kids as I introduced him to Sam. Though Jessica had already met David, she was still shy and kind of held back. Not so for Sam. He flew headfirst into any situation. He began asking David questions about anything that came to his mind: favorite baseball team, favorite ice cream flavor, why was the sky blue, a whole barrage of inquiry, which David answered with a smile. David patted Sam's curious head and answered all his questions, at least the ones he knew the answers to. Jessica and I shared a look, giggling because we knew how much of a talker Sam was. That night David took all of us out to a nice dinner at a family-style restaurant. It was nice to know that David was just as comfortable eating chicken fingers and hot fudge sundaes as he was with fancy French cuisine. After David dropped us back at the apartment, I asked the kids what they thought about him. I tried my best to explain my feelings for David as well as the relationship we had. I didn't give my kids enough credit. Both of them approved of David and understood my needs to start dating again. Jessica liked David, but I think Sam was the more enthusiastic one of the two. Every time he saw David, it was a non-stop barrage of questions about movies or science or history, fields David wasn't even an expert in. But that's just the kind of mind Sam had at that age. He needed to know everything. Sam was especially interested in the movies and David was impressed that a child Sam's age would take interest in such technical things as filming and editing. Talking to David on the phone the next day, I asked what he thought of Sam and Jessica. He said he was already in love with them. Adding to my pleasure, David told me how well behaved they were and what a good job I'd done raising them alone. I thought that it would be nice to have a strong male figure in their lives to give some balance to my parenting, but I knew it would be a while before I let David--or any man--into my life permanently. By October, I had saved enough money to get my own apartment and finally found the perfect place near the kids' school. When I told David he rushed over. I gave him a tour of the empty apartment, telling him all the decorating plans I had, where I would put the sofa and the dining room table, how I would arrange my bedroom. I was so excited to share my dream with David. Standing before me, he pulled out a check for five hundred dollars, made out to me. Both surprised and confused, I refused it. David explained, "You and the kids will need things for the apartment. Please take this." I had never met anyone as generous as David and, although I felt uncomfortable with his generosity, it felt so sincere. Eventually I accepted and thanked him. Time moved our relationship in a serious direction. Just about every weekend, David took the kids and me out to dinner, museums and parks. I tried to slow him down on his gifts, but he kept insisting we needed things like new furniture and that it would take me too long to save the money to buy them on my own. Work hadn't come easily and when it did it was sporadic. David understood the hard times I was going through and knew things would eventually pick up. His generosity also came with compliments: I was beautiful, intelligent, the humble girlfriend of his dreams. David made me feel like a princess and before I knew it, I was hopelessly in love with him. I decided to call and tell Gayle, my friend in Oklahoma, about the new love in my life. I told her how wonderful David was to the kids and me, and how giving and kind he was. "I can't wait for you to meet David someday," I said. "I've never been so happy." Gayle seemed happy for me as well. I knew I must have sounded like some love-struck teenager, but I didn't care. I didn't care who knew or what they thought--I was so happy. Soon, David and I were seeing each other on a daily basis. He talked a lot about the movies he was working on. Eventually I started joining David on movie sets and found it most interesting. All the cameras and sound equipment with their buttons and lights and thousands of moving parts--the buzz on the set was electric and every time the director screamed "action" or "cut" I got shivers. Our time together was sweet and passionate and I felt we were gradually growing closer. But I wondered what he really thought, since on the set David introduced me as just a friend. Maybe I was reading too much into our relationship, but how could I when we spent nearly every day together? We talked a lot about the present, but he never brought up the past. It made me wonder if he was hiding something or simply too afraid or uninterested to open up to me completely. We talked extensively about his work, but rarely about more personal subjects. At times he would throw me dialogue to get my reaction on lines he wanted to use in a film. Late one night, as David and I lay next to each other talking about his work, he mumbled to me in a tired voice, "I know someone who killed someone and got away with it." "Was it a man or a woman?" I asked, for some reason curious as to the perpetrator's sex. He muttered an indecipherable reply as he drifted off to sleep. I found it strange for a movie line, but I ignored his words, because he was half asleep when he said them and probably wasn't making a lot of sense. Turning over on my side, I fell asleep thinking nothing of it. Soon after that conversation, David started acting moody. At first I felt he was just having some bad days at work. I did my best to comfort him about whatever was bothering him, but he wouldn't tell me what was wrong. He began making odd comments, telling me his past was complicated and he had no business getting into a relationship right now and we probably shouldn't be seeing so much of each other. I thought he was getting scared because our relationship was becoming serious. I tried to ignore his comments, hoping whatever turmoil David was going through would pass. Maybe, I told myself, he just needed some time away from me to think some things over. Not really sure of what to do, I decided to let a week pass without having any contact with him and see if it was our relationship making him nervous. David didn't notice anything was wrong the first day, but by the second, he began calling the apartment every few hours to leave messages, asking where I was and why I wasn't returning any of his calls. When I still didn't return his calls, his messages became increasingly angry. Conjuring up an excuse, I told David I'd been busy, but he didn't buy it and said he was on his way to my apartment. When he arrived, he was obviously concerned, telling me, "I feel you are pulling away from me," and, "I don't want to lose you." I felt reassured, at the moment, that whatever David was going through had nothing to do with me. I adored him and was glad we were back together again and the problem was behind us. David was happy too--he hugged me lovingly and held me in his arms. He told me, "I got a phone call from an old friend named Valerie. She's invited us, along with several other people, to a brunch she is going to be having at her apartment next Saturday. I told her about the kids and you and she wants to meet you all." I thought it was strange that David had never talked about this friend of his, but I concluded it must not be someone he kept in touch with on a regular basis, someone from his past. It was a good sign and I was glad, because it showed David was getting more comfortable with our relationship, opening up his past to me. Saturday afternoon, David arrived to pick us up to go over to Valerie's apartment. As he parked the car in front of an expensive apartment building, it suddenly occurred to me that David's apartment was just down the street. We walked up the marble steps to the apartment building and stood in front of a security door, waiting for the click that unlocked the entrance, which led to a beautiful garden setting. The kids and I waited behind David as he knocked on an apartment door. A beautiful African-American woman in her mid-thirties, statuesque at about 5'10" and very curvaceous, opened the door. Shoulder-length curly black hair showcased her piercing black eyes, and her long fingernails were painted the same fiery red of her lipstick. She wore very high heels, an expensive black dress that showed off her cleavage and a bright yellow leather jacket, which was from a famed designer's current line. Everything about Valerie seemed manicured, all the way down to her personality. As she held out her polished fingers to shake my unpolished ones, an uneasy feeling came over me and I suddenly felt uncomfortable in my simple blue dress. This gorgeous woman was David's dear, old friend. We were introduced to several other guests, some of whom had brought their children as well. Looking around, I noticed how fancy and expensive the apartment was, from the elegant furniture to the sterling silver on the highly-polished mahogany table. When Valerie slipped off to the kitchen to get us glasses of champagne, I leaned toward David and asked in a whisper what Valerie did for a living. He told me, "She is a very successful interior designer." That explained how Valerie could afford to live such a lavish lifestyle. Sam and Jessica went off with several other children, while I tried to mingle with the adult guests by making small talk, but I soon found myself feeling out of place. As the afternoon wore on, I caught Valerie staring at me several times from across the room, as she took slow sips from her champagne glass. She seemed very curious about me, as I was about her. Her laugh was low and throaty and she seemed upbeat, but there was something about her that made me nervous. My appetite was lost and I wished all afternoon that David and I were alone with the kids as we usually were. Several times I ended up standing on the terrace trying to gather my thoughts and steady my nerves. When David approached me and asked if I was ready to go home, I sighed with relief. I gathered the kids, said goodbye to everyone and thanked Valerie for inviting us. After David dropped us back home, I called my old friend Gayle, needing someone to confide in. "Valerie is a good friend of David's." I tried to be enthusiastic. "The good thing is he's finally introducing me to his old friends. I think," I said, pausing before I went on, "he's admitted to himself he's serious about me." Copyright (c) 2005 by Donita Woodruff. All rights reserved. Excerpted from Deadly Masquerade: A True Story of Sexual Secrets, Illicit Passion, and Murder by Donita Woodruff All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.