Chapter 2

Roxanne kissed Sebastian deeply "Do you feel better now?" she asked him.

"I do." He wondered if he would ever be able to tell her what was bothering him. She needed him so much...

Roxanne held him so close that he could hear the slow beating of his heart. Dear Sebastian, who had been with her since the day she had decided to kick the habit and get back on her feet...

...But that was before she recovered her memory. Before she knew how little freedom she had..."

Did she have the right to do this to him?, she thought as her teeth searched for his vein... he did not really know what she was doing to him... what she was being ordered to do to him...

But she needed him so much...

She didn't have to decide it yet. A transformation could be made to last a long time.

She could just enjoy him now. While there was still time. While he did not hate her.


Sandy stood by the door of the bedroom, waiting for Herb to fall asleep.

At least it salvaged her pride. She did not have to hear any of his excuses. He had been very understanding, Herbert, hadn't he?" When Julia said that she could lead a normal life he had decided to take her back. And still expected her to be grateful.

But he still did not like to see her alone with the children, still gave her side glances...

"We can't go on like this." she said aloud.

"Huh?" Hebert said from his bed.

"You don't want me anymore, do you?" she said mercilessly.

"I do, honey." Herbert was too irritated to sound convincing. "I do not know where you get those ideas."

"I do not imagine things. You don't want me."

"You area upset. Which is understanble. After what you've been through."

"What I have gone through, is that it? What Tom Jennings did to me? Or the fact that I grow long hair in the full moon?"

"Don't dwell on it. It is not good for you."

"I am not dwelling, you are. You can't forget it. You can't forgive me for it."

"Sandy..." he was angry now. "I don't want to hear any more of that nonsense.. You have to get hold of yourself."

"I have a hold of myself. It is you who can't accept that. It is you who are trying to keep me away from my children."

"Look, Dr. Hoffman says that soon you'll be back to... to the way you were before. Try to be patient."

"What if she's wrong? What if I have to stay like this for a long time? Look what happened to Barnabas, He has to stay as he is for a long time."

"Barnabas." Herb's face darkened. "You do nothing but speak of him."

"He's been more of a help that you have been."


The man looked familiar, yet he could not place him. Mentally he reviewed all the "Wanted" posters he had been looking at for the past six months, but the face didn't fit any of them.

And somehow the man looked straight, not a crook. Maybe he prided himself too much in his cop's intuition to be able to tell the one who were trouble at a glance. But this man was not one of them.

George Brant went to the man, still searching for the name to go with the face.

"Anything wrong. sheriff?" the man asked, nervously then his face opened in surprise. "George Brant, of all people!"

"Mitch, Mitch Penn! Is that you, really?"

"The same one, all right."

"You have done quite well for yourself, it seems "George said "You dress for success."

"Not only that. I got a house in the suburbs and two cars. And a swimming pool in the backyard."

"You achieved the American dream? I never thought you'd make it."

"I had help. What about you? I see that you are the sheriff now."

"Yup. Did well for myself, too."

Mitch looked at him shrewdly "Are you married?"

"No. Still a confirmed bachelor."

"I see. You are still a Woodard boy."

George stiffened. "What do you mean?"

"I was one too. But I stopped being one. He set me loose and it worth my while to go away and leave him alone when he got tired of me. I guess he didn't have time to get tired of you."

George's lips disappeared into a thin line.

"I think that we might as well have a talk about it. Let's go to a cafe and talk over it at a table."

George Brant had known that he had not been the first one. Certainly Dave was no virgin when he had met him. But to hear himself called a "Woodard boy"... it made it sound dirty...

He let Mitch lead him to a table, order coffee and Danish for both of them.

"It is because of this that I have come back. I have to understand him. And myself too. I loved him for a while. Then I hated him, then I shrugged him off... Now I only want to make sense of him."

"What is there to make sense of?" George asked numbly.

"You would have understood if he had lived long enough to get rid of you. No, he would not have left you in the cold. He would have arranged for a scholarship, or something like that. And then convinced you that you had to go, for your own sake. So off you'd have gone and he would have found another boy. And read your letters while bedding your replacement."

"He never read any letters in my presence."

"So he didn't. In a way he might have cared for us... but in the end he exploited us... I should be angry.. And yet, if it wasn't for that scholarship he arranged for me, I would not have my house, would not have Marge. I might have ended up in jail. And I was no virgin either when he seduced me...but still...He made me quit drugs, made me think that I could make something of myself."

"And you hate him for it?" George was ironical..

"Funny isn't it? If I was a whore, a hustler, I would be grateful. But I loved him and... When I got my education when I could understand what he was doing, I was sick about it. He seemed to care so much for me. But the bottom like was that I had to... to service him in bed. He was generous, but it was a strict payment. There was no love... just lust, and taking advantage of my need. It is as if there were two of them. The upright dedicated doctor who cared for his patients and for those in need. And the pervert that preyed on impressionable kids."

"They were the same man."

"He made me prostitute myself. He made me care for him, love him, only in the end to have him pay me off and ship me to parts unknown... How could he be so respected in the community when doing that to us? I was so glad when I heard he was dead..."

"Are you still glad?"

"No, not anymore. But still I have this ache... Why couldn't he have loved me as I loved him? Was I just a convenience to him? And you... you are still carrying a torch for him. I wish you stopped. He was not worth it..."


"Why did Anderson have to be a Republican" Oriana asked, peeved. "it would be much easier if he was a Democrat."

There was no chance that he would win. Amy could believe it but she couldn't. And even Amy, at unguarded moments showed signs of discouragement.

"And he's still the best man for the job." she said angrily.

She stretched herself on the bed. Why did she feel so hurt? Why did she take it so personally?

She laughed without humor at that. Because, if Anderson won, she'd be on the White House beat. If seemed so near her grasp. Become the next Elizabeth Drew, the new Leslie Stahl... Getting to the point where she did not need to spell her last name.

But if he was not President, she would be sent back to page nine...The same deadly beat that she was trying to escape...

The phone rang. She lifted the receiver, sure that it was her publisher reassigning her to another story...

"It is Amy. I have great news."

"What news?" She was too tired to be enthusiastic/

"Chris is out of Wyncliffe. He's all right again."

"Your brother?" A shudder ran through Oriana's body.

"Isn't it wonderful?"

How anybody could call that psychopath wonderful was beyond Oriana. But then Amy was a devoted sister. "Yes... it is wonderful"

"It wasn't Chris who did those things. It was Tom. You never met Chris."

"I know that. Are you planning to see him?"

"Yes."

"I could give you a ride. At least part of the way. I am getting reassigned, and it is in the direction of Collinsport."

It wasn't. In fact, there was no new story, yet. But if she went to Collinsport, she would see Barnabas, and maybe this time he'd take her to bed.


Phillip laid down on the couch, studying his hands. They were steady, which surprised him. He looked at the bottle b the wall. It was at a safe distance. It would not remain there, of course. But not today. He had nothing to fear today.

Nothing would happen until he was ready and willing. Not until he told Barnabas that he wanted it done.

Which meant never. He would never agree to that... He would not have done to him again.

Yet he was willing to lie down on his side, his face turned away from Barnabas, in position in case it were to happen...

But it would not happen today. Concentrate on it. Nothing would happen today.

"Deep breathing, Phillip" Barnabas said. "it will help you."

"I cannot stop thinking of what will happen next."

"But not today. All you have to do today is just like there and calm yourself."

"And tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow you'll know you can do this, and will have less fear. Fear is your enemy. "

"I know, but." he half lifted himself, only to be pushed back by Barnabas.

"Just like down and breathe...Deep, slow breaths."

"I am sorry to give you this much trouble..."

"That's not real trouble. You should see my other patients."


Roger grabbed the stake firmly. Barnabas would pay for what he had done to Carolyn He would never hurt her again.

He looked around. It wasn't attracting too much attention. He would be able to make the bus ride to Wyncliffe without incident. And once there, he would get into Julia's clinic and there he would find Barnabas' coffin...

Barnabas would pay for what he had done to Carolyn.