My Grandmother used to work with the police in a small town, mostly tending the cells and working as a translator.

She dated the Chief for a while and during this timeframe her mother, my great grandmother, who was in her 80s or 90s, was raped by a friend of a sibling of my Grandmother. This rapist also had eyes for the little boys in the family as I hear it (before my time, thankfully) and of course these concerns were disregarded.

As the story goes, my Grandmother's police chief boyfriend said "He's got to cross the road sometime."

Around a week later, the suspect was mysteriously found dead. I figure the chief may have handled it personally but I know Grandma and her Brothers would have wanted their pound of flesh as Great Grandma was a literal Saint who never so much as raised her voice and was painfully Christian, my few memories of her involve stories about Jesus.

Grandma and Great Grandma especially are and were amazing and kind people and Grandma has never spoken on this and now has dementia so hardly remembers who anyone is.

Not that I weep for the rapist or think her wrong for it but it is an odd thing that this kindly old lady that made me sandwiches and sang me lullabys may have been involved in such a thing.