Author's Note: Hello, hello, hello! Before I get started, as a Tar Heel, I gotta mention the winner of this year's American Idol, Scotty McCreery, from Garner, NC (that's about an hour from me). We're very proud of him, even those of us who don't normally pay attention to American Idol (like my family and me). Okay, duty as a Tar Heel done. The holidays are coming upon us, so whatever holiday you celebrate (Christmas, Chanukah, Kwanzaa, Winter Solstice), I hope it's a wonderful one. I'm relieved to say that I have all gifts bought except two. Oh, and this is singularly appropriate. . .the local news just had a piece on a gentleman in West Chester, PA who has created his very own hobbit house. How awesome is that? I've also started a new policy wherein, if I have at least nine pages in a chapter, I'll go ahead and post the chapter, rather than waiting for twelve or fifteen or eighteen. Hopefully, that will help with posting (crossing fingers). Onward and upward!

Chapter Three

Reinforcements

His day began so well. Perhaps that should have been his first indication that things would go so spectacularly wrong later. Admittedly, he didn't enjoy taking the car to the garage, but it was a necessary inconvenience. . .especially if he wished to continue driving. And, he had to admit, the waiting room of Josiah's garage was rather entertaining on this particular morning. On any given day, you could hear a wide variety of conversations. This morning, only a few minutes after he arrived, a young woman brought her car in. . .and found herself in the company of a rather garrulous older woman. He daren't call her old, as she was at least twenty years younger than he. The young lady was evidently raised to honor older people, because she valiantly tried to take part in the conversation, but quickly gave up. The other woman wasn't interested in someone to converse with. . . simply someone to talk at.

As the girl left, he rose to his feet and opened the door for her, whispering softly, "Your compassion and courtesy does your parents credit." That simple act won him a bright, grateful smile. He was approaching ninety, but as his grandson was fond of reminding him, he wasn't dead yet. And a woman's smile could always make his heart turn over, especially if that smile reminded him of his late wife. The girl did remind him of his wife, and not simply because his beloved would have listened to that woman. Of course, with her previous partner gone, Lucius was the woman's next victim. Ah, well. There were worse ways to spend forty-five minutes. At last, his car was ready and he journeyed onto his next appointment.

That next appointment was his breakfast meeting with Mayor Farrell, and contrary to popular belief among those who knew about the breakfast meetings, the pair rarely talked about politics. And even further contrary to popular belief, it was rare that Mayor Farrell talked about politics outside of City Hall, if he could help it. Oh, there were always citizens who questioned him about policies when he was out and about, but they always approached him, rather than the other way around. It stood to reason, especially when he had to deal with those overgrown children on the Town Council. On occasion, they discussed religion, as Tom Farrell was a lifelong Catholic, while Lucius Wellington was a lapsed member of the Church of England.

But most of the time, they talked about their children and, during this particular breakfast, about the jobs they held during the course of their lives. Lucius was somewhat jealous to learn that Tom earned money as a teenager by picking fruit on farms, while Tom winced when he realized that Lucius lied about his age to enlist in the Second World War. That, Tom observed, was one helluva first job. And Lucius had to agree, choosing not to tell the younger man about the other wars he fought. Nor did he tell him about the years he spent after the war, hunting Nazis who escaped justice. There were just some things he wasn't ready to share, even with a man who had to make difficult decisions on a regular basis. He couldn't even share that with his beloved grandson.

It was then that the police captain called the mayor on his mobile, informing him of the murder of a Russian immigrant to the United States, one Maxim Petrenko. That was always tragic, of course, but it was hardly earth-shattering. Truly, he would have thought nothing more of it; however, he learned through what reporters called 'unofficial' sources that there was far more to the situation than anyone else guessed. Further, those unofficial sources would remain anonymous, because of a call he received on his own mobile. Very little was said. . .very little needed to be said. 'We are coming for you next.' It took very little imagination and a great deal of memory to understand exactly whom 'we' was. By the same token, he realized that he couldn't go to the police with this. They dealt with the mundane and the practical, not with the supernatural. More to the point, they weren't trained to deal with the supernatural.

And that was where he was now, watching his grandson leave the house to meet with Ronan Daly and praying that the reincarnation of Gimli could help him protect Jason and Natalie from what was to come. Oh, he knew that Gimli, Gloin's son, had no reason in the world to help him, any more Aragorn's reincarnation or Boromir did. But he believed, with all his heart, that those three men wouldn't allow two innocents to suffer because of Saruman's many crimes. Saruman might have taken vengeance by way of Jason and Natalie, but Ronan, Boromir, and Gavin were not like Saruman.

Even so, that was a small comfort to him. Ringwraiths. The Ringwraiths were back and Lucius would be in their sights. Ringwraiths possessed the bodies of two innocent men and then used them to kill Maxim Petrenko, while the still-amnesiac son of Gondor's Steward watched in horror. Oh, he hadn't been simply watching. . .he was also shielding the man's great-granddaughter at the same time. But, Ringwraiths. Lucius shuddered at the idea of those things here, now.

For where the Ringwraiths were, Sauron wasn't far behind. Lucius never believed that Sauron was truly gone, completely destroyed. He would have liked to believe that was the case, but experience and time taught him otherwise. Besides, energy was never truly destroyed. . .it merely took other forms. He just hoped that their paths would never cross again. The part of him which was Saruman quailed at the thought of facing the Dark Lord, but Lucius stood up to other Dark Lords during his current life, including that evil little man who was ultimately responsible for the deaths of millions of people, Adolf Hitler.

He wasn't unafraid, no. Of course he was afraid. . .only fools were unafraid, and he wasn't a fool. But he tried not to allow his fear gain control of him. That was how Sauron worked, of course, and Lucius wasn't the same man who once fell under Sauron's sway. Literally, he wasn't the same man. He smirked a little, which died away. They were coming for him. . .which meant they were also coming for Jason and Natalie. And that would not be permitted. Lucius lost his wife and his son. He would not allow his sins, or the sins of his past self, to destroy his relationship with his grandson or destroy the boy himself. Not again. Never again.

So come for me, if you dare, Sauron, Lucius thought, but if you harm my grandson and great-granddaughter, that will be the very last mistake you make! And to make sure he could carry out that threat, Lucius began making plans. He would start with learning what he could once Jason got home from his meeting with Ronan Daly, but he would also need to contact Gavin Rafferty. Lucius had the sense that the retired Marine's younger sister would be part of the coming battle, simply by virtue of her relationship with Boromir. And of course he knew that Megan and Kristin were Gavin's sisters, rather than his cousins. . .the only ones who didn't know were the girls themselves. Not important. The only thing that was important was protecting Jason and Natalie.

BBBBBBBBBB

Oooh, on a scale of one to ten, this was a fifteen on the 'bad idea' scale. But it seemed like the smart thing to do at the time, especially since it meant making one trip into town, rather than two. There was a municipal job open and since she had to go into Campbell proper to deposit her mother's check, it made sense to kill two birds with one stone. The visit to the bank went well. . .the tellers and receptionist had known her since she was a child, and her mother made sure she had everything she would need. Of course, once she got to the municipal building, things went horribly awry. Of course. What else would she expect, the way things had been going lately?

While she grew up in Campbell, so much changed in the time she was away. And since she returned, she spent very little time around the municipal building and the police department. So maybe it wasn't so surprising when she got lost after dropping off her job application with the human resources office and headed back to her car. She spent the next ten minutes wandering around the parking lot for that car. During her fourth pass, a Jeep pulled up alongside her and a young woman smiled out at her, saying, "Can I help you?" She hesitated, but the woman (who was about her own age) continued, "I'm a police detective and I noticed you wandering around. Is everything okay?"

For the first time, she realized how it must have looked and she flushed, just a little. But the other woman's smile was reassuring and she explained, "I can't find my car. I know the next parking lot over is for police officers, but. . ." The detective blinked and she realized she was more lost than she realized. It was colder than normal today, but right now, her face was burning with embarrassment. And for the second time in the last few minutes, the detective (who was she, she looked vaguely familiar) came to her rescue.

"That's on the other side of the building, and a long walk. Why don't I give you a ride over?" she suggested. A quick glance inside the Jeep demonstrated that she had a radio inside the car, lending credence to her claim that she was a police detective. And it was cold out here and. . .she nodded quickly, and then slipped inside the Jeep.

Once she was inside, she found herself not just warming up, but relaxing. However, embarrassment, as it so often did for her, loosened her tongue, as she explained, "I've been out of work for several months. . .came to the municipal building, 'cause I knew there was a job opening. I'd forgotten that there was a parking lot on either side of the municipal building and police department, so when I came out, I went the wrong way. How long has that new parking lot been there?"

"About three years, give or take. You just came back to Campbell?" the detective asked. Lorelle nodded and the detective made a noise in the back of her throat, murmuring, "Job market's tough right now, and from what I've been hearing, that's becoming true throughout the country. A school friend of mine just got a job at the Castle after years of making do with odd jobs and help from friends. . .it got tougher after her daughter was born." Lorelle knew what she meant by the Castle. . .everyone did who grew up in Campbell. . .and the detective went on as she smoothly guided her Jeep out onto the street, "So, what kind of car am I looking for?"

"It's a 1999 white Saturn. She's been good to me, got me across country from California," Lorelle explained. She braced herself for the inevitable questions that seemed to follow the revelation that she lived in California. . .especially if she also revealed that she lived there for more than fifteen years. The detective smiled unexpectedly, but said nothing as she turned again into the parking lot. . .and now things looked much more familiar. Lorelle shook her head in disgust. She knew something didn't look right when she got to the parking lot where the detective found her, but couldn't quite figure out why. She muttered, "That was really not one of my smarter moves. . .oh, there she is."

"Don't worry about it. . .can happen to anyone. I can't tell you the number of times it happened after the new parking lot first opened. Just past the Durango?" the detective asked and Lorelle nodded, relaxing further at the sight of her beloved car, which was right now like seeing an old friend. The detective eased the car to a halt, adding, "Good luck on the job." Lorelle smiled back at the detective, thanking her for the well-wishes and for the ride, and slipped out of the car. It was only after she got into her Saturn that she realized that she never asked the detective for her name or her badge number.

The police detective circled around the parking lot before heading back to the street. Going back out on patrol? Maybe. Lorelle shook her head and withdrew her cell phone from her purse. She dialed her mother's number and on the second ring, Mom answered. Lorelle said, "Hey, it's me. . .got the money put in the bank and the application dropped off. Forgot there are two parking lots. . .no, a police detective noticed me wandering around like a little lost puppy dog and was kind enough to give me a ride to the other parking lot. She's around my age, dark hair and eyes, drives a Jeep. Real nice girl. Didn't get her name or her badge number."

"Sounds like it was probably Megan Rafferty. . .she was a few years behind you in school," Mom replied. Yeah, the name didn't ring a bell and Lorelle was always more concerned with the upperclassmen, rather than the underclassmen. Mom continued, "She's Sayre's granddaughter. . .the older one, that is. Her parents adopted a little Korean girl when Meggie was twelve, named her Kristin. I knew she made detective and that some of Sayre's old rivals were trying to make her life difficult."

Lorelle rolled her eyes. Honestly, she had to wonder if some people ever grew up. And, she found she didn't mind her mother knowing so much about Lorelle's unexpected rescuer. There was a time when that would have driven her insane. Her mother hadn't changed since she left Campbell, but Lorelle herself had, in ways she was still discovering. And she did remember Miss Sayre, who always gave the best candy during Halloween. She also had vague memories of Miss Sayre's granddaughter, who just rescued her from wandering around a cold parking lot.

"Stupid people. And I bet she'd still risk her life to save any one of them, if she's willing to rescue me from my own stupidity. Well, unless there's something else you need me to pick up, I'm on my way home," Lorelle told her mother. She did something very unlike herself in that moment. She began pulling out of her parking space, while she was still on her cell. Lorelle had a near miss several years earlier and now refused to drive and talk on her cell or text while driving. But there was something that made her very uneasy, and she wanted to go home.

"No, baby, that's everything. Come on home and drive careful. There's a full moon and you know people go nuts when that happens," her mother replied. Supposedly, that was an old wives tale, but Lorelle's experience told her just the opposite. . .full moons brought out the crazy in people, and there was already enough crazy in the world, so far as she was concerned. She hung up the cell after saying good-bye to her mother, focusing only on her driving.

Off to the right, standing on the corner, were three beings who watched Lorelle in anticipation. They weren't men, although they were once. Lorelle would never, ever know how close she came to joining them. . .that she would have joined them, quite against her will, if she hadn't followed her instincts in that critical second. Lorelle Hollister was saved from being taken by the Ringwraiths. . .someone else would not be quite as lucky.

BBBBBBBBB

"You're late," Elena greeted her partner as she ducked inside her partner's car, a bag of food in each hand. Twenty-five minutes earlier, Megan dropped her off at Lady J's to get lunch while she dropped Michael off. It should have only taken fifteen minutes to get to Megan's apartment and come back. Megan merely rolled her eyes, tucking the bags of food into one of her 'saddlebags,' as she called them, and motioned to Elena to close the damn door already.

"I got sidetracked. I swung by the precinct and there was one of the upperclassmen from when we were in school wandering around. She just returned to Campbell and didn't know about the new parking lot. . .got turned around when she left the municipal building, so I gave her a ride to the proper parking lot. And how long have you actually been waiting?" Megan inquired. Elena sniffed. That wasn't the point. Megan snickered and eased out of the parking lot. She continued, "So, I haven't heard back from Gavin, but I'm not expecting to hear from him for a few hours. I don't know about you, 'Lena, but this case has me more than a little itchy."

"Yeah, that makes two of us," Elena replied, virtuously avoiding commenting how adding a 'b' to the beginning of that word could. . .get them both into trouble. She added, "What about Michael, is he okay?" She knew that Meg was worried about her because of her abuelito's death, but she was actually more worried about Michael. Whatever possessed those men, they knew Michael's true name and they knew where he was from. That did not bode well at all.

"I convinced him to stay with Nico and Mrs. Watkins. Didn't exactly fight fair, either, when I suggested that Mrs. Watkins might need his protection. And I doubt if even Nico could stop whatever is behind this, but I don't want Michael to be alone and I know Mrs. Watkins feels better having him there," Megan replied. Elena blinked at her friend, a little surprised at Megan's rather blatant manipulation. However, any attempts to tease her friend went bye-bye at the look in Megan's eyes as she added softly, "I'll do what I have to, to protect him."

"I know, querida," Elena said softly, "I know." She also knew that Megan cared far more for Michael than she thought she should. . .and that Michael reciprocated her feelings. Further, she had a feeling that Michael would need to ignite. . .things. . . between them. Megan still believed that Michael needed more time and more female friends before he could be sure that he felt the same about her. Elena knew better. However, she also knew how stubborn her friend could be, and that right now, Megan needed to focus on the case at hand. Even though the case wasn't technically theirs, they were involved.

Megan was silent as she navigated through the streets of their home town, before finally saying, "Okay, let's take things from the top. What we know: two men arrived at the home of Maxim Petrenko. That is a fact. What is also a fact is that Maxim Petrenko was killed with his own ceremonial sword, almost instantly. Yet, that sword wasn't even close to being sharp. It should have been like being killed with a dull spoon. Fact number three, the two men knew Michael's true name and spoke in a long-dead language which only Michael, Maxim, and my cousin know."

Elena nodded, seeing where her partner was going with this, and put in, "What we've been told is that the two men don't remember any of this. Maybe they don't, but maybe they do. . .we can't see inside their heads, although we might want to suggest testing for drugs. Oh, and don't forget that Michael has said that Ronan Daly knows this long-dead language." Megan inclined her head in acknowledgment, remembering the conversation earlier in the day, after they left the Petrenko farm, and Elena continued, "We'll need more information once the techs finish with their part of the job, but at the moment, we don't have a lot to go on."

"Not entirely true, 'Lena. Once we get back to our desks, I wanna do searches on 'Sauron' and 'Gondor' and 'Saruman' and 'Sindarin.' It might get interesting, since I'm not even sure how to spell any of those, but I'll see what we can find. Michael told us that the message was that Sauron wanted his servant Saruman to return to his side, which indicates to me a cult of some kind, with Sauron being a deity. I could be wrong, but for some reason, I doubt that this 'Saruman' was a house servant. Once I hear from Gavin, we'll put that in. Have you talked to the captain?" Megan asked and Elena nodded. She called their captain while she was waiting for her partner.

"I told her what we knew, and she asked if you put in a call to Gavin yet. I told her 'yes' and that you were waiting to hear back from him. She said that's fine, and that our two brainwashed or possessed perps will be transferred to our jail," Elena replied. Megan hummed a little under her breath and Elena asked, "You don't believe that they were possessed, do you?" Megan didn't answer at first, as she pulled into the precinct parking lot. As they made their turn, Elena saw three people standing on the corner. She shivered as icy fingers trailed down her spine. That itchy feeling Megan mentioned just got a helluva lot stronger. She blinked, and when she opened her eyes once more, those three were gone. She shuddered, and hoped Megan didn't notice. There were some questions she simply wasn't ready to answer.

"I don't know what to think, 'Lena. Can I buy that they were brainwashed? That's plausible, but from what I remember about psych class, people cannot be brainwashed to act contrary to their core personality. Do I believe in possession? Well, so far as that goes, it doesn't matter what I believe, 'cause it won't hold up in court. Is it a possibility? At this point, just about anything is a possibility. But I can tell you this: if those two really were innocent businessmen who were brainwashed, then whoever did it is damn powerful. . .frighteningly so," Megan replied.

With that, Elena couldn't argue. The conversation was temporarily benched while Megan pulled into her parking space. The partners grabbed their lunches and headed inside once the Jeep was locked up. On the sidewalk, Megan added, "I'd swear I've seen those three people on the corner before." Her voice was very soft, as if she didn't want anyone else to hear what she was saying. Elena's blood ran cold and Megan glanced at her, asking, "You saw them, too?" Elena nodded.

"I saw them, too. Felt like someone walked over my grave," she said quietly. Megan simply nodded slowly. Well, at least Elena wasn't the only one who was feeling itchier. Normally, she really didn't care what people thought of her, but between this new case and the whole mess surrounding Bethany's death the previous year, she knew there was a better than even chance that if she wasn't careful, people would think she was cracking up. And she wasn't entirely sure they were wrong. Keeping that in mind, Elena added, "Do we tell anyone else about this?"

"I think we should tell the captain that our instincts are screaming at us to proceed with caution. She may not understand itchy feelings, but she will definitely trust instincts. Also, there's no reason why we shouldn't tell her that we noticed three people loitering on the far corner of the parking lot. At least, I saw three people. . .did you?" Megan inquired. Elena nodded, feeling a bit better. Her partner added soberly, "I've got a really bad feeling about this entire case, 'Lena. I really do."

"That makes two of us, querida. In fact, I'd be very surprised if Captain Anders doesn't have a very bad feeling, based on the information we all have at this point. This looks to be a very, very strange case," Elena replied. Her cousins in New York often shook their heads over Elena's desire to stay in her hometown, thinking she had to be bored out of her head. If only they knew. Even in a small town, there was plenty of work to be done. She would even venture to say that there was just as much to do, with fewer resources. Elena hadn't gotten a believable response to that statement yet.

"Lather, rinse, repeat. . .I'd be very surprised if anyone working this case doesn't have a bad feeling after what we heard at the Petrenko farm. Rational explanations have their place, but right now, I'm not sure if there are any rational explanations. And you don't know how badly that freaks me out. You know, on the way over, I was thinking about the best way to accomplish this. What do you think, one of us checks on information for our two perps while the other runs the names down?" Megan suggested. Elena needed just a minute to think about that, and then nodded. That sounded like the best way to divide the labor between them.

"Works for me. But lunch first?" Elena asked and Megan nodded emphatically. It was understood between the two that Megan would take care of running the names through the system, while Elena took care of finding more information on the perps. And if Elena cast one last worried look around before they went inside the police station, no one could really blame her. The last time either of the partners got an itchy feeling, the last time any of the detectives in Campbell got that itchy feeling, it was right before Bethany's murder. . .and the town was still reeling from that.

BBBBBBBB

"We must go to North Carolina immediately, Legolas," Haldir said quietly, appearing just as quietly in the doorway to the room which was designated as a computer room in this particular house.

Legolas looked up from the computer, annoyed at the interruption. . .annoyance that quickly turned to concern when he beheld Haldir's expression. The other Elf, normally so stoic, looked deeply worried and before Legolas could question his friend, Haldir explained, "I just received a communiqué from Lady Galadriel. . .the Ringwraiths have returned. And where they are, Sauron cannot be far behind. A life has already been lost, just this morning, and under circumstances that led to the Peredhel twins leaving Valinor. I do not need to tell you that Boromir and his protectors are in grave danger."

And yet, he just did. However, Legolas didn't point this out, knowing that it would only annoy Haldir. Instead, he replied, "How soon can you get your necessities together?" Haldir's thin smile was the only answer he needed. His friend was ready, which meant Legolas needed to finish this email and then they could leave. The prince observed, "I shall join you as soon as this. . .no. No, I should send an email to Ronan as well, let him know that we're on our way. This is sooner than I planned, sooner than I wished, but Boromir will have need of us."

"Quite," Haldir answered, "my belongings are loaded. I will notify Lady Galadriel that we will leave within the hour. By my calculations, we should arrive early tomorrow morning. . .unless you prefer to take the rail. It will take slightly less time." Legolas needed but a moment to think that through, and then he nodded his agreement to the second idea. Yes, they would take the rail. When he emailed Ronan, that would be one of the requests he made. . .that the retired doctor meet them at the station. He wondered briefly if Ronan was yet accustomed to sleeping in, and then decided that for Boromir, Ronan would likely make an exception.

Haldir disappeared from view and Legolas returned his attention to the email he was typing to an old friend in Cardiff, a man whom he and Haldir met during the second half of the Great War. He paused, and then typed two words, which he knew his friend would understand. 'Be ready.' Legolas re-read the missive, nodding thoughtfully. Yes, that would do. He clicked 'send,' and then began the process to shut down his laptop. There was much to do, and very little time in which to do it.

We are coming, Boromir, Legolas silently promised and remembered a line from a recent (at least by Elven standards) poem, though hell should bar the way.1 Not even hell would keep Legolas and Haldir from reaching their friend's side.

TBC

1 Alfred Noyes' The Highwayman.