Dear Darling

Sixteen

Tuesday, June 14th, 1925.

"Dear Darling,

I decided to write to you this morning instead of evening because I don't know when I will get back from my scouting mission. The plan is to look as normal as possible. I'll pretend that I'm new to Rochester and if anyone asks, I'll say I was sightseeing. Perfectly unsuspicious don't you think?

I have decided to bring the letter jacket from the evidence department to return to Sam as a peace offering. You never know-it could work!

I can tell that you don't think it's a good idea. Well, do you remember the night we first met? It was at the speakeasy downtown. If I didn't know better, I would say that the fates sure were watching us then. I was stuck with a dumb Dora of a date and you were wrapped up in a blind date your sister set up with the cockiest bimbo I've ever seen. My date was rambling about some stupid coffee shop on the corner and your date was trying unsuccessfully to get his hands on you, but you kept slapping them away. I excused myself to go to the bathroom, when a young, dazzling flapper caught my eye. You. I saw you struggling to hold back the other man's thick arms, so I stepped in to help. I called him a dirty, rotten slutbag, because it was the worst thing I could think of at the time. Once we got away from the dumb sap you came with, I asked you to dance. And dance we did. It was the most wonderful night of my life, and how could it not, for didn't I dance till dawn with a gorgeous Sheba on my arm? Later that night, you called me your dashing knight, and I called you my darling princess.

The names have stuck since, so shouldn't your belief in me? What I'm trying to say is that you believed me to be strong then, so believe in me to be strong now. I won't let an old bird get the best of the amazing Charles Wagner!

With extra love,

Charles."