Free Written in Blood by Diane Fanning Page B

they actually did, and then they were all able to arrive on time to be seated and ready for the show to begin.
    When Pat visited, Patty—who liked to go to bed early—would tuck in her children and then turn in herself. Pat sat up for hours talking with Michael. He often spoke of Patty’s friend, Liz McKee. He said she was scatter-brained and nervous. He told Pat, “She is not like you—she has no sense when it comes to managing money.”
    Pat thought Michael was a very intellectual and interesting man, whose story-telling skills were extraordinary. Pat enjoyed seeing Michael with his boys. When they were young, he was very gentle with them. He was not, however, always gentle with his wife. As a househusband, Mike had responsibility for a lot of chores around their home. He often neglected them and left the house in a perpetual state of chaos. If Patty spoke of it, he blew up.
    Patty often hinted that Mike was not always nice to her. Nonetheless, she made never-ending apologies and excuses for his boorish behavior. Pat also noticed that her friend “walked on eggs” around her husband at all times.
    Mike and Patty traveled to an extent that would make a
nomad ache with envy. They vacationed in the Azores, a jewel-like string of islands far off the coast of Portugal. Every Thanksgiving, the Petersons traveled to Copenhagen. Each Christmas, they attended the Christmas Fair in Nuremberg.
    Pat Finn traveled with them on many excursions, including trips to Copenhagen, Vienna, Strasbourg, Venice and Lago di Garda—a beautiful lake area of natural, dramatic beauty, surrounded with medieval architecture and nestled in the Italian Alps. Pat and Patty were very close and enjoyed each other’s company. In time, Michael Peterson would shred their relationship into tattered memories.

ELIZABETH MCKEE RATLIFF
    â€œThe woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep
And miles to go before I sleep.”
    â€“Robert Frost, “Stopping By Woods
On a Snowy Evening,”
One of Liz Ratliff’s favorite poems

13
    Elizabeth Ann McKee was born on November 3, 1942—the first child of Elizabeth and Harold McKee of Cumberland, Rhode Island. Her parents called her Betty Ann.
    A Royal Decree in 1746 established the town of Cumberland, in the northeast corner of the state. Its early industrial growth was spurred by the abundant water power of the Blackstone and Abbot Run Rivers.
    Betty Ann grew up in the lush green rural outskirts of this town, off a dirt road, in a home that was more than a hundred years old. From the house, she could see the Convent of the Religious Sisters of Mercy, an order of teachers and nurses, high on the hill. Every day at noon, their bells rang out through the community and all paused for a moment of prayer. In this idyllic setting, only one incident marred Betty Ann’s early years: a serious bout of pneumonia that threatened to take her life.
    By the time Betty Ann started her formal education at the Mercy Mount Country Day School, she had two sisters: Rosemary and Margaret. To Margaret, four years younger, Betty Ann was the object of endless hero worship.
Margaret looked up to her big sister in awe, anxious to be old enough to do all that she could do.
    It was a loving and very Catholic family. They all went to confession on Saturday and services on Sunday at St. John Vianney, their parish church. It was housed in a historic building on Old Boston Post Road. In a previous life, the structure served as a tavern where travelers stopped for refreshment on their way to Boston.
    Easter was a special day in the McKee home. Beforehand, the family dressed in nice clothes, as many did for shopping in that era, and traveled to Woonsocket to buy new dresses, hats, gloves and shoes for the special day. When the big morning arrived, Elizabeth prepared them for the service one girl at a time, starting with her youngest, Margaret. She tied each head of hair with rags to