Derek has found that there are Mob figures moving into Collinpsort and is keeping tabs on them for the sheriff. Ruby Tate is gone, satisfied with what Barnabas could give her. Peal Loomis was born to Louella and Willie. In the meantime Delia is falling under the influence of a whip which had been used in slave ships. The sheriff has taken in Urien Yost, a street kid.

THE COLLINSPORT CONNECTION

Chapter 1

It seemed strange. No crisis awaiting him. How long was it before he could say that? Yes, there had been moments of calm before, but they had been a false calm. Something was waiting to pounce on them.

Maybe this time too...

Even so, he should be grateful for what he had. Good friend, a good life, little Pearl. He had been blessed more than he had dared to hope.

He remembered his hopes. First, marriage to Josette. Then, later, a desperate searching for freedom from his curse. Then other dreams, hunted as desperately, and as uselessly.

And now, when he had learned that none of it would come to pass he had found a wealth of happiness that he had not thought possible.

He had found love. Part of him cringed at that word being applied to George. But each time it protested less. The Puritan upbringing did not have much of a hold in him now.

Ruby was gone... Or rather come back. There were many times when he held Pearl in his arms that he did not think about Ruby at all. It was just a baby now, Willie's baby.

No, things were going right, for a change. Even Carolyn was mellowing. She was even considering inviting Elizabeth back to Collinwood. Maybe he would be able to see Elizabeth again.

A purring noise and something soft rubbed against his leg. He bent down to stroke the cat, who purred more, hungry for affection.

He lifted it. He had made a good decision when he had adopted the whole litter at Elsa's entreaties. They earned more than their keep the way they kept the place free of vermin, and their beauty and quiet affection had given him many happy moments.

It had been a while since he had seen Elsa...

And he knew why. He had learned that Elsa had once been Sarah. He had been overjoyed by it, as the pain of that last meeting with her, when Sarah had told him he had lost her because of the people he had hurt, was deep in him. Sarah was come back and forgiven him at last, and she was his sister again...

But she was not his sister now. She could no be. She was Elsa /Quarles now. And she was to be allowed to grow up and live her life as Elsa Quarles.

If he kept away from Elsa, he would not succumb to the temptation to force her to be Sarah again.

He had tried something like that, once. It still brought him a chill to remember how it had been. That he was right about Sarah did not make things better.

So he removed the temptation. He visited Alma less now, and was careful to make sure that Elsa was sleeping or staying overnight with friends.

But if he could look at Pearl without thinking that she had once been Ruby, then he could go to Elsa and accept her as she was, not as she had once been. The pain was gone and he mourned for it no longer.

And Elsa was growing fast. There was less of the impudent brat in her and more of the young woman.

And she' get over her crush for him soon.

He laughed at that. It felt so good to be able to laugh. He had spent too much time unable to laugh, to find joy in anything, to find amusing that a prepubescent child would fall in love with him. Amusing without malice, without bitterness.

And less than six months ago, he was unable to accept the love he now shared with George.

He was changing, still. And he did not try to fight his destiny anymore, but instead searched for the treasures he could find in it. And they were many indeed.

Iris found Violet packing.

"Are you leaving?"

"Yes. I am going to live with Delia."

"Delia? Why?"

"She's my friend. She wants to have me and Peter."

"But you are my sister. I want you to stay with me."

"I don't want to take charity any longer. Delia says that she can find something for me at the hospital."

"And what else?" Iris asked, too many things that she had thought odd coming together."

"What else? What do you mean?" Violet asked flustered.

"Are you supposed to be her lover, too?"

Violet stood up angrily "I don't see what business it is of yours!"

George was not in when he called, but Urien was. Barnabas smiled at him, pleasantly. Urien grimaced in response.

For a social reclamation project Urien did not look too successful. he did not trust anyone, had no desire to abandon his way of life, wretched as it was, and it was only the implied threat of George's authority that kept him from running away.

"He isn't here." Urien said surly to him.

"I know. But he will be back."

Maybe if George had no tried to rape him in that cell Urien would be more willing to believe in his protestations that he only wanted to help him out of the goodness of his heart. But he doubted that it would make much difference. Goodness of heart was not the kind of thing that Urien had run into very often in his squalid existence. Love and kindness were as alien to Urien as they had been to Ruby.

Urien looked at Barnabas, studying him. How close was this man to Brant? Could he help him?

He did not want to stay here, not with the sheriff. What did he want with him? A servant?... maybe a slave?

He had heard some stories about what some weird guys did to the boys they picked up. They made a pretense of keeping you and then one day you found out what they really wanted to do with you. The leather straps and the whip. But for real.

It must be that. Brant did not touch him because he was saving him for the big party.

He liked it less and less each day. He had to get away from here, one way or the other. But Brant had his badge, and he was only a two-bit hustler, and Brant could have him back in no time, unless he found a protector.

He moved towards Barnabas, wiggling his hips suggestively.

Barnabas lifted his eyebrows, surprised at the crude display. He felt a bit sickened by it. So young, and he had already learned that much.

Urien smiled disingenuously. "Do you want to pass the time while he's away?"

Barnabas looked at him guardedly "What do you have in mind?"

Urien wriggled his hips again. "Like, having a piece."

Barnabas tried to keep himself calm. "Are you offering yourself to me?"

"You like boys, don't you? At least once in a while. Maybe you can take me for yourself. I know a few tricks to keep a man happy."

Barnabas shook his head. "No."

"Why? It will be fun. And don't worry about the sheriff being mad at you. He doesn't do it with me."

Barnabas smiled. "I know. He does it with me."

The blood drained off Urien's face. This was Brant's lover. How could he be so stupid? And now Brant would know of it, and Barnabas would be the one to hold him while Brant used the whip and the branding irons...

The FBI man was quite young. And arrogant, as only the young can be. Like an FBI man can be with a backwoods sheriff. George Brant had to remind himself, as he often did that there were severe penalties for strangling Federal employees. Just because the man seemed to think that he was a subhuman form of life did not give Brant the right to kill him.

"Well, now that I am here, I will see that this investigation is carried out properly"

"You'll see that we are ready to handle it. The man I assigned to this case told me that there will be big shipment soon and that we will catch several big ones.

The man waved his hand, indicating how little he thought of Brant's operations. Yes, the local talent could supply them with information, sometimes. But to carry out an operation of this size, no. They very likely would bungle it up."

"You don't have our sophisticated methods for doing this kind of thing."

"We got the experience. This area was full of rum runners doing Prohibition. We learned one thing or two then."

Was it the man's natural unpleasantness or was it his training? George had yet to see any FBI man treat him with anything resembling professional courtesy.

He wondered again. Maybe, if they picked a jury carefully, he could have it called justifiable homicide.

He had the feeling that he was being watched. It was a vague sensation that he could not pin down to anything. Only the knowledge that somebody's eyes were fixed on him

But there was no one there. No one but him. And the mosquitoes who were having a full meal off him. And then a few night birds and bats...

Bats. Herbert Miller froze. There were three... people around who could disguise themselves this way, and any of them would tell the sheriff if they guessed what he was up to.

He turned around, feeling fear, deep fear inside him. If any of them had observed him... if the sheriff found out...

Yes, there were bats, at a distance. But which one wasn't really a bat, which one was a spy?

Of all the lousy places, it had to be Collinsport...

He had a gun. And from now one he would put silver bullets in it. And with luck he'd kill the spy.

After all, it was one of those stinking things that had made Sandy turn against him. He would not let them ruin his chance for big money.

Frank studied the profile of the man surveying the dockside with a proprietary air. He had seen before, but where?

Then the man turned and recognized Frank "Frank Torrance!" he said superciliously "So this is where they exiled you."

"Yes, it is me." Frank seethed inwardly. The man had known him in better circumstances and was now amused to see him this way. "Curt Kinsley. From the FBI, right?"

"Right!"

"Did they exile you too?" Frank asked with false camaraderie.

"No. I am here on business. On the Bureau's business." that was said with a look that warned Frank to ask no more of it. "how about you?"

"I am doing well. I am getting married. Her name is Buffy Harrington."

"Well, that is something to celebrate, then."

"Do you want to meet her? We could arrange a dinner date."

He did not know what made him offer the invitation. He cared little for Curt. But Curt would love to see him humiliated and broken. He wanted to show him that it was not so.

Damn it, he wanted to show the bastard up!