Author's note: Thanks so muchto Masked Kitten and ZeusFluff for the reviews! I'm glad you like the story!

Al was tapping his toe impatiently when Sam opened the coffin lid. Finally," he grumbled. "I didn't think you'd ever wake up. Sam, you're not gonna believe this!"

Sam jumped up from the coffin. "What? What is it?"

"Jason's blackmailing Elizabeth for murdering her husband eighteen years ago," Al began.

Sam went pale. "Murder?" He paced the room worriedly. "Al, what can I do? I don't want to let Jason keep blackmailing her, but I don't want to help a murderer either."

Al shook his head impatiently. "That's just it. She's not a murderer. Paul Stoddard is alive and well and living in San Francisco."

Sam looked up sharply. "But you said-"

"Jason tricked her," Al explained. "Paul was abandoning the family and stealing all the family jewels to take with him. She tried to stop him, and they got into a fight, and she hit him over the head. Jason was there, and he told her Paul was dead, but it wasn't true - he was just unconscious. She wanted to go to the police, but Jason convinced her to keep quiet for Carolyn's sake. He told her he'd get rid of the body and no one would ever know. She agreed, but she felt so guilty about it that she hasn't left the house since."

"So she's spent all these years feeling guilty about a murder that never happened," Sam said slowly. "I've got to help her, Al. What should I do?"

"Go to her and tell her the truth," Al suggested.

Sam shook his head. "She needs to know the truth...but I don't think Barnabas should be the one to tell her. All these years she's been hiding this secret, terrified someone might find out. I'd like her to learn the truth without feeling that everybody knows about it." It was a tough problem. Sam thought for a while. Al, I have an idea," he said suddenly. "I think Paul should be the one to tell her."

"Paul Stoddard?" asked Al skeptically. "He ran out on her. Why should he care?"

"All she needs to know is that Paul's alive," Sam pointed out. "And he has a right to know what Jason's doing. Give me his number."

Al shrugged. "If that's what you want," he said doubtfully. "But I don't think it'll work."

Sam drove into Collinsport, cursing Barnabas' lack of a phone, and dialed Paul Stoddard's number from a phone booth. He had no idea what he would say, but he felt instinctively that this was the right thing to do.

The phone rang once, twice. Finally someone picked up on the third ring.

"Hello?" said a middle-aged man's voice.

"Hello, is this Paul Stoddard?" asked Sam.

"Who wants to know?" the man asked suspiciously.

"Mr. Stoddard - well, I hope it's you," Sam fumbled, trying to sound friendly. "You don't know me. My name is-" He hesitated. He didn't want to get Barnabas mixed up in this. "My name is Sam Beckett, and-"

"You're right. I don't know you. Goodbye, Mr. Beckett."

"No, don't hang up!" Sam said hastily. "I'm calling from Collinsport, Maine, about your wife and daughter!"

Paul Stoddard, about to hang up the phone, froze at the sound of those words. He stared at the receiver as though it might bite him. Slowly he brought the receiver back to his ear.

"Mr. Beckett...are you still there?"he asked hesitantly.

"Yes, I'm here," said Sam in relief.

"I'm sorry," Paul said. "There are just some...people I'd rather not hear from right now. I thought you were one of them."

"That's okay," Sam reassured him, hearing a genuine apology in the man's tone.

Paul thought of Sam's earlier words. In sudden panic, he asked, "What's happened to Elizabeth and Carolyn?"

"Physically, they're both fine. But they do need your help." Sam hesitated. "I know you've been gone for a while..." he said awkwardly.

"I have. But I think about my family every day," Paul interrupted defensively. He stopped and took a deep breath. This wasn't Beckett's fault, he reminded himself. "I'm not proud of my past, Mr. Beckett," he said quietly. "I always thought it best if I stayed away, after what happened." He thought of his recent sleepless nights, the way his thoughts had turned more and more to his family of late, especially his daughter. The daughter he hadn't seen since she was a baby - the daughter who was a grown woman now. So many wasted years... But he didn't say this out loud.

Sam was encouraged by Paul's obvious concern. "You can help them now, Mr. Stoddard,"he urged.

"Tell me, Mr. Beckett. How?" Paul asked anxiously. He didn't know why, but for some reason he decided to trust this stranger.

"I'm sure you remember what happened 18 years ago," Sam began. "Your wife, Elizabeth, struck you on the head with a poker. She was trying to stop you from stealing the family jewels."

"How do you...Yes, that's right," admitted Paul.

"Your friend Jason McGuire offered to clear things up," Sam continued. "You left the house, and Jason met up with you later on. He brought a lot of money with him. The two of you split the money, and you took off."

"Yes," Paul said. "I know."

"What you probably don't know is that after you left Collinwood, Jason told Elizabeth that you were dead, that she had killed you with that poker."

Paul was thunderstruck. "Dear God," he breathed.

Sam knew he had just dropped a bombshell and that he was about to drop another. He wanted to be gentle, but he had to get across how urgent it was that Paul act immediately. "Jason convinced Elizabeth not to go to the police for Carolyn's sake," he explained. "Jason told her he'd bury your body and no one would ever know about the murder. And all these years, Elizabeth's been living with that guilt. It's eaten her up inside. She hasn't even left the house in 18 years."

"I...I had no idea," Paul whispered. His mind raced in a million directions. He was filled with sadness, anger, guilt. "I have to tell her," he stammered. Then anger won out. "And just wait till I get my hands on McGuire! Oh, there'll be a body to bury, all right!"

"Hold on, Mr. Stoddard," Sam said quickly. "Violence isn't going to help your wife and daughter get their lives back together."

Paul tried to calm down. "All right, Mr. Beckett. Then what DO you suggest?"

"I have a plan," Sam said. "But first I have to finish the story."

"There's more?" How much worse could it get? Paul wondered.

"I'm afraid so," said Sam. "Recently Jason came back to town and started blackmailing Elizabeth. He's forcing her to marry him by threatening to expose the fact that she murdered you."

Paul Stoddard clenched his fists and drew a deep breath, trying to keep his anger in check. After a moment, he spoke. "You said you had a plan, Mr. Beckett. I'm damn well ready to hear it now."

Sam smiled inwardly. He knew that whatever events lay 18 years in the past, Paul Stoddard cared about Elizabeth and Carolyn, and he would do whatever was necessary to help them.

o o o o o o o o

"Did it work?" Al asked when Sam came out of the phone booth.

"I think so," Sam said triumphantly. Go to Collinwood and let me know what happens."

Al rubbed his hands together gleefully. "Are you kidding? I wouldn't miss this for anything! It's better than a soap opera." He zapped himself to the drawing room at Collinwood.

Jason was sitting on the sofa, drinking coffee. Elizabeth was at her desk, going over the accounts for the Collinsport cannery, and Carolyn stood idly looking out the window, waiting for Buzz to arrive.

The phone rang. "Would you answer that, Carolyn?" asked Liz, not looking up from her work.

Carolyn let out an exasperated teenage sigh and flounced over to the phone. "Collins residence...Yes, this is Carolyn Stoddard. Who is this, please?" She listened, then gasped. The receiver dropped from her fingers.

Elizabeth looked up in concern. "What's wrong, darling?"

"It's...it's my father," said Carolyn in a dazed voice.

Jason sputtered and choked on his coffee. Elizabeth went white. "It...it can't be. It must be a prank." She went to the phone and picked up the dangling receiver. "Who is this?" she said sternly. At the sound of the voice on the other end, her knees gave way and she had to clutch the table for support. "Paul?" she said shakily. She took a deep breath. "If...if you're really Paul Stoddard, tell me how we first met." She listened, her eyes widening, as Stoddard related events only he could know. "It-it really is you," she said, stunned.

Carolyn had recovered and was bouncing up and down with excitement. "I can't believe it! Mother, what's he saying? Where is he? Is he coming here? Oh, I always knew he'd come back someday!"

Elizabeth ignored her. "Paul," she said, her voice trembling. "I have to know - what really happened the night you left?"

While Paul related the true events of that fateful night, Jason was quietly sidling toward the front door, a look of alarm on his face. Elizabeth suddenly noticed what he was doing. "Just a moment Paul," she said, glancing at Jason. There's an old friend of yours here who I'm sure you'll want to talk to - Jason McGuire." Challengingly, she held the phone out to him.

Trapped, Jason took the receiver. "Paul!" he said with forced joviality. "How have you been, laddie?" He winced and held the phone away from his ear as a stream of invective poured out. "All right, Paul, now take it easy," he said soothingly. "I just thought your Liz might be needin' a bit of company, seein' as how you haven't been home in eighteen years. I wanted to show her a bit of fun, that's all it was."

"Fun?" exploded Liz. "Is that what you call it? I've had enough fun' from you to last a lifetime, Jason. Now put down the phone and get out of this house before I call the police."

Jason cleared his throat, trying to preserve some dignity. "Paul, your lovely wife is wantin' me to get off the line. We'll talk later, eh?"

Carolyn was torn between the dramatic scene being played out in front of her by Jason and Elizabeth, and fascination about the father she had never met. The latter won. "Let me talk to him," she said, taking the phone from Jason.

While Carolyn talked on the phone, Elizabeth marched to the front door and opened it. "I mean it, Jason. If you ever show your face in Collinsport again, I'll have you arrested."

Jason held up a hand placatingly. "Now, Liz, you wouldn't do that. Think of the scandal."

"I am thinking of it. That's why I haven't called the police yet. But I'm thoroughly fed up with you, and if it takes a scandal to get rid of you, I'll be only too happy to provide one."

"She's got you there," Al said happily. "Better hit the road, Jack!"

Jason saw he'd lost and gave in, though not gracefully. "Let me at least pack my things."

"Fine. You have exactly 10 minutes," said Elizabeth firmly.

As Jason went upstairs, Roger came down. "What is all this commotion?"

"Mr. McGuire is leaving," Liz informed him.

Roger beamed. "Really? I can scarcely believe my ears. What brought on this sudden miracle?"

Carolyn came running into the foyer. "Uncle Roger, you'll never believe it! My father just called!"

"Nonsense," said Roger, startled. "Why would he call now, after eighteen years?"

"He did, Roger," said Elizabeth quietly.

"Mother, he wants to come to Collinsport for a visit," said Carolyn eagerly. "He's sorry about everything that's happened. Say yes, Mother! I want to meet him."

"We'll see, darling," said Elizabeth, patting her hand.

Carolyn hugged her. "I'm so glad you told Jason to leave! Oh, that reminds me. I have to call Buzz and cancel our date." She gave her mother a sheepish smile.

Al happily zapped back to the Old House and told Sam what had transpired. Sam wasn't completely satisfied. "That's great, Al, but why didn't Elizabeth have Jason arrested?"

"She wanted to avoid publicity," Al explained.

Sam shook his head. "I don't like the idea of him getting off scot-free."

At that moment, there was a knock at the front door. Sam exchanged a look with Al and went to open it. To his surprise, Jason McGuire stood on the doorstep.

Jason looked surprised to see Sam. "Oh, excuse me, Mr. Collins. I was just lookin' for my friend Willie. I'd like a word with him."

"He's not here," said Sam. "And even if he were, you don't have time to talk to him. From what I hear, you're leaving town."

Jason's eyes narrowed. "News travels fast, I see."

"Yes, it does," said Sam. "Now I think it would be best for everyone if you would leave. I think you've just about worn out your welcome in Collinsport."

"I see," said Jason steadily. "But you never know - I may be back someday. I may even have some unfinished business to take care of with you, Mr. Collins."

"Oh, I doubt that," said Sam, holding his gaze.

Al was consulting his handlink. "Sam," he said suddenly, "mention the name Tony Gambino' to him."

Sam kept his eyes on Jason. "But you do have unfinished business with other people," he said casually. "People like Tony Gambino, perhaps."

Jason went pale. "What do you mean?"

"I think you know," Sam said evenly. Even though I don't, he added to himself.

"Now...now, Mr. Collins, let's not be hasty," Jason said nervously.

"Are you leaving town?" Sam demanded.

Jason backed away. "Of course. I'm leaving right now. And I won't be back." He fled the house.

Sam turned to Al. "Who's Tony Gambino?"

Al grinned. A mobster who's still trying to figure out who double-crossed him a few years back." He looked at the handlink again. "Anyway, you don't have to worry about Jason anymore. After this, he goes to Washington and gets involved in a real estate scam. But he gets caught, and it turns out some of the people he swindled are prominent politicians, and the case gets a lot of publicity. And when Jason's name and picture hit the papers, dozens of people around the country come forward to testify how he flim-flammed them over the years. He ends up getting 18 years in prison."

"The same amount of time Elizabeth was imprisoned in her house," Sam said, thoughtfully. "Well, that's good." He was relieved that justice would be served.

Al punched up the door that took him back to his own time. "Well, Sam, looks like this adventure is about wrapped up. Jason's gone, Barnabas is almost cured...you should be saying Sayonara' to Collinsport any time now." He pressed a button, and he and the door disappeared.

o o o o o o o o o o o

Sam stretched out on the sofa, wishing the queasy feeling in his stomach would go away. It seemed to be getting worse. Maybe it was his body's reaction to changing back into a human, he theorized. He'd have to ask Julia.

Aside from that, though, he was pretty pleased with how everything was turning out. Al was right; he should be Leaping very soon. Barnabas would be cured within a day or two. That reminded Sam that he had to take care of Willie before he Leaped. He decided that when Willie came home tonight, he would give him some money so he could leave Collinsport. That way, Willie would be safely gone when Barnabas came back; and since Barnabas would be human, he wouldn't have any way of getting Willie back.

Pleased with this idea, Sam began to wonder what his next Leap would be. Maybe this time, he'd get back to his own time at last...

His reverie was interrupted when the front door banged. Willie ran into the living room, clearly agitated. "Barnabas, we got problems."

"What's wrong?" Sam asked in concern, sitting up.

"Maggie Evans is startin' to get her memory back," said Willie anxiously. "I heard Sheriff Patterson an' Sam Evans talkin' about it at the Blue Whale. If she remembers what happened to her-"

"She'll remember that Barnabas Collins is the kidnapper," Sam finished worriedly, forgetting to use the first person pronoun.

"What're ya gonna do about it?" Willie asked nervously.

Sam opened his mouth, about to say there wasn't much he could do about it, but suddenly, without warning, a strange feeling came over him. He doubled over in nausea, sweat beading on his forehead. With a rush of panic, he felt the vampire energy returning, threatening to overwhelm him, his hard-won humanity slipping away. Sam gasped as he felt the fangs pushing forward out of his gums.

The thirst was suddenly upon him, more urgent and terrible than it had ever been. He had to have blood, right now-

"Barnabas, what's wrong?" Willie was kneeling on the floor next to him, touching his shoulder.

Sam looked up and was acutely aware of the vein pulsing in Willie's throat. He felt his lips pull back from his fangs. Blood, sweet blood...

"NO!" Sam shoved Willie away from him with all his vampire strength. The young man crashed against the wall and slipped to the floor, stunned. When he climbed to his feet, the fear in his eyes mirrored Sam's own.

"Get Julia," Sam hissed between clenched teeth. "Get Julia now!"

Willie ran out of the house. Sam crawled to the kitchen. He tore open the icebox - yes, they were still there, the bottles of blood substitute he'd created weeks earlier. He hadn't needed them since that first injection. Now he tore them open and guzzled every drop. It took five bottles, but eventually the madness receded enough that he thought he could see Julia without attacking her immediately.

The thirst was still there, however, and he knew he couldn't control it for long. What had gone wrong?

Sam hurried downstairs and began anxiously scanning Julia's notes. All the formulas seemed to be correct. He tried to control the fear that was rising within him. If he couldn't figure out what was wrong, and fast, they were all in danger.