Monica Yant Kinney | For the curious, here's whatever happened to . . .

Whenever I speak to groups of readers, someone always brings up a column I wrote months earlier.

Whatever happened to that person you made us care about? Did the bad guy get caught? How did the story end?

In the rush to keep up with the news, it's easy to leave unintentional cliff-hangers. My readers are right: Every so often, I should look back and bring folks up to speed.

Remember Margie Miller, the Chester County mom obsessed with the weather in Iraq?

Every mother worries her children will suffer from the elements. Imagine what it's like when your baby is a West Point grad doing IED sweeps in Baghdad, where it was 119 degrees last week.

Miller also thought seeing the inhospitable conditions in war zones next to tourist spots like London might help civilians better appreciate the sacrifices soldiers make.

"During World War II, everyone's lives changed," she told me over coffee in May. "This time, that hasn't happened."

Miller, 53, easily persuaded The Inquirer to include Baghdad and Kabul in the weather report.

Last month, she and fellow Blue Star moms in Massachusetts won over the Boston Globe.

The Connecticut Post in Bridgeport agreed. So did the Journal-Register company, which owns 24 papers.

"Now," Miller told me, "I'm working on the New York Post."

The walls are closing in on Len Brooks. The baby broker, whose business dealings launched an FBI investigation, has been evicted from a rental house in South Florida, where he moved when things got too hot in South Jersey.

Brooks blames Mother Nature for leaving so many of his surrogacy clients childless. Lawyers argued otherwise, winning $250,000 in judgments against him.

When we last spoke in March, Brooks accused me of pouring "fuel on the fire" by asking about charges of cocaine possession against him; he had been arrested while driving his Mercedes.

I was merely suggesting that the coke and the car may explain where his clients' money went.

In June, Brooks was evicted from that luxury rental home. In July, he pleaded guilty to drug charges and giving police a false identity.

And the FBI? Still digging.

"He's going to have to live hiding behind aliases, buying things in other people's names" to avoid paying, said lawyer Kim Lunetta, who represents several former clients.

"We'll wait. One day, he'll make a mistake. My clients are moving on with their lives."

Susanne and Ray Breitweiser of Sicklerville spent five years and $20,000 getting the runaround from Brooks. In April, they finally became parents, adopting a baby girl.

One year after Daniel Mackay was killed in a car accident on I-295, he's close to being memorialized in Trenton.

The Daniel Mackay Law would protect families from having to spend big bucks to retrieve the crumpled wreckage that is the last thing on families' minds after losing a loved one in a crash.

Six days after the Clearview Regional High School senior's death in a 1992 Honda, his mother and stepfather, Kathy and Bob Corsini, realized the mangled mess was in a tow lot in Washington Township. They already owed $640.90.

"When were they going to tell us they had our car?" Kathy Corsini asked. "After a year? After we owed them thousands of dollars?"

At the Corsinis' urging, Assemblyman John Burzichelli (D., Gloucester) drafted legislation that would require prompt notification and cap charges for storing accident wreckage.

The bill sailed through the Assembly, 80-0, in June. Next stop: the Senate.

And finally, remember the two innocent drivers who got hit with $500 deductibles after being hit by a cop trying to catch a runaway suspect in Camden last winter?

When Cherry Hill psychologist David Raush filed a claim against Camden, he heard from the insurance company representing Frank Ellison - the Marlton bank worker who was the first driver hit.

For reasons unclear to both, Ellison's insurer covered Raush's costs - even though Ellison was rear-ended by the speeding police cruiser.

"Wow, I didn't know that my insurance paid the Raushes," Ellison e-mailed after I told him last week.

Raush's wife, Helene, is a lawyer who thinks it's strange that Camden got away with injuring two men and totaling their cars.

"The whole thing is just weird," she said. "Camden paid nothing."

Some resolution. This saga never ends.