She - apparently having no idea I was there until I spoke - jumped 3 feet straight up with a little squeak of alarm, and landed facing me, brandishing the handle of the vacuum like a weapon.

"Whoa, whoa there - sorry - I didn't mean to startle you - I'm just looking for my family." When she gave me a blank, but less frightened/hostile look, I lapsed into my pidgin Italian, "Mia famiglia - um - donde es...no, bloody hell, that's Spanish," I raked my hands through my hair and tried again, "Mia famiglia?" with a questioning tone.

"Gone - they have gone, signore," she answered, finally letting loose of her vacuum and giving me a more sympathetic look. "This morning - they leave - left - this morning."

"This morning?" I echoed, totally at sea. I stood in the middle of the lounge room and spun in a slow circle, finally noticing what I had missed when I came in - no toys scattered around, no sweaters draped over chairs, no dolls, and, most tellingly, no sign that Rosie had been there. No fresh flowers in the vases, no handbag left casually on top of the desk, no keys next to her laptop...hell, no laptop, for that matter. "Holy shit," I muttered, rubbing my forehead where another headache was starting to throb. "Holy shit, Rosie - what've you bloody done?"

The maid left while I was talking to myself, shutting the door softly, giving me a look of what I can only describe as extreme pity as she glanced at me before closing it. The latch clicked into place and I was truly alone.

And it began to sink in that something was terribly wrong here, and I had apparently missed the clues to what was going on.

"What the bloody fucking hell is this?" I asked aloud.

No answer was forthcoming.

We landed in Gainesville first, transferring from the Delta 737 to a small rented 6 passenger jet, then flying down the short jaunt to Ocala. It was midnight when we were settled in a suite at the Hilton using my maiden name, and by four a.m. I was still lying wide awake, staring at the shadows and lights moving across the ceiling. I wondered what Russell was doing - feeling - at this very moment so far away in Rome - and I wondered for the first time since I had bought the tickets for this crazy flight across continents and oceans - what the hell was I thinking?

A tiny hand patted mine where it rested against the side of the bed. I turned and then sat up to lift Lexie into the bed with me, "What is it, poppet?"

She snuggled in, then murmured, "Can't sleep - miss daddy."

I stroked her silky hair and sighed before admitting, "I miss him too, sweetie - now what do you say you snuggle in here with me and we try to have a nice dream before morning?"

She agreed, sleepy despite her claim to the contrary, and dozed off in relatively short order. To my surprise, I followed her to dreamland myself, but my dreams were anything but pleasant, being filled with pursuit, distress and not a little fear. One thing came through loud and clear even in my rem-state - Russell was probably furious with me - and hurt. And I wasn't totally sure myself why I had left him, but left him I had.

Now - what to do next?

TBC...hopefully, some day