Thu. May 7, 1970

For once in her life, Angelique Rumson is not in control of those around her... For Angelique does not know where either man in her life is... After the seance the night before, John Jaeger disappeared into the night... And now, with Quentin Collins having left the mansion, Seaview, Angelique is at her wits end to find him...

Roger Collins came home from the cannery to find the house empty, for once. His son, David, was probably either up in his room or outdoors, somewhere. Quentin was God-knows-where. He had not shown up at the cannery since the day of the full moon. Roger reflected that with Liz and Carolyn coming back home tomorrow, that the house would not seem so quiet anymore—so he'd better enjoy it while he could.

"Mrs. Johnson!" he called out from the Great Hall, his voice echoing across the vast emptiness. "I'm home!" No answer. "She's probably out shopping…" he muttered. He walked to the Drawing Room to unwind and empty a bottle of scotch down his throat after a long, tedious day at work.

Opening the Drawing Room doors, Roger jumped inside his skin to see a man sitting on the sofa. "What are you doing here?" he demanded, looking around the room for any sign of force entry.

"Mr. Collins!" The dark-haired, bespectacled man stood up from the sofa. "Mr. Roger Collins? The name's Larry Chase! Detective Larry Chase!" he proffered his hand, but Roger did not take it. "Your maid let me in. She said it was all right to wait in here, since you were so close to coming home…"

Roger rolled his eyes and sighed. "I'll have to speak to Mrs. Johnson about that… later!" He eyed the detective up and down. "Detective… Chase, did you say? Why are you here?"

"It's about that 'little' accident you had here after the funeral—in which a man fell to his death!" Larry exclaimed.

Roger nodded. "I thought as much," he said, walking over to the liquor cart. "Drink?" he asked, pouring some scotch into the glass.

Larry shook his head. "Not while I'm on duty." He pulled an official-looking piece of paper and showed to Roger. "I have a search warrant, here. Mr. Collins, I'm looking for evidence. I found a button near the body of Dameon Edwards—it belongs to a man's suit jacket!"

Roger glanced at the search warrant and frowned. "So what? I don't see what it matters… People lose buttons all the time…"

Larry brought out a baggie with the button inside. "The coroner found bruises on Dameon's body not inflicted from the fall… The indentation of the button was still in the palm of his hand when he died…" He glanced down at the button. "And there were other things as well that make me think that the fall was no 'accident'."

He glanced at Roger, who swigged his scotch down. "And then there's your cousin, Quentin Collins… no one has seen nor heard from him since the funeral."

Roger shook his head with dismay. "Pshaw! All circumstantial! Quentin comes and goes as he pleases, all the time! I don't see why you needed to get a search warrant! What incriminating evidence do you hope to find here, anyway?"

"I need to search the room of every male that lives, or lived, in this house, and find the jacket this button goes to!" Larry said firmly. "We'll start with the victim's things first, then Quentin's, and then yours, Mr. Collins! Once we've got the jacket, then the rest will start to fall in place!"

Roger looked down, wondering if there really was something to it. He did not know Quentin THAT well, after all. They had helped Barnabas defeat the Leviathans, but what did he really know about this mysterious young cousin from France? Roger slammed down his glass. "Fine! If we must go through this charade, I insist on escorting you from room to room! I'll take you to Mr. Edwards' room first!"

"Fine, Mr. Collins!" Larry brought his hands up and stood aside as Roger started to walk out of the Drawing Room. He began to follow him to the staircase. "But, I need to let you know that I don't want you to interfere! I insist on going through each room, by myself!"

"All right," Roger nodded grimly. He began to walk up the stairs with Larry close at his heels, and he wondered if Quentin really had pushed his friend, Dameon Edwards over the balcony…

Act One:

Meanwhile, a sweaty Quentin brought a stack of freshly cut firewood into Chris's cabin on Green Mountain. Dropping the wood in front of the fireplace, Quentin sighed and wiped his brow with the sleeve of Chris's flannel shirt that he had found and put on. Glancing up towards the table, he saw that the moon poppy was starting to perk up again,

Quentin got up and walked over to it. He had found it wilting and barely alive on the floor of the cabin when he got there that morning. After standing the table back up and watering the plant, Quentin had busied himself by cleaning up the cabin—sweeping up the glass, throwing away any old food, gathering up Chris's clothing… Quentin was even planning on boarding up the broken window later.

For it was here that Quentin needed to be. After everything that had happened, it was Chris's death that had affected him the most. Dameon's had just been the final straw. "Oh Chris," Quentin said outloud as he touched the wilted leaves of the moon poppy. "How I wish you were still here…" Quentin hugged himself in Chris's flannel shirt and smelled his scent still left over in the fabric.

Just then, Quentin heard the sound of a car outdoors. Tentatively peering outside the open window, he recognized Angelique's powder blue convertible. Quentin quickly walked over to the open front door and watched her get out of the car.

Angelique looked with relief to see Quentin standing in the doorway of the cabin. "Quentin! I knew you would be here, I just knew it!" She rushed away from the car and towards Quentin, flinging herself into his arms, kissing him on the cheek.

Quentin looked surprised, staring down at Angelique as he put his hands on her shoulders. "Angelique, how on Earth did you find me here? I thought no one would think to look for me!"

Angelique stared up at him with her big baby blues. "After Julia and I arrived back at Seaview to find you gone, we decided to split up and go into two different directions to go look for you."

Quentin shook his head in disbelief. "And YOU just decided to look up here on Green Mountain?"

"Well, this wasn't my first choice," Angelique smiled. "I knew how much losing Chris hurt you, so I decided to check the caretaker's cottage, his graveside, and THEN his cabin!"

"Come in, I just started a fire and chopped some more wood, as you can probably tell by the way I look!" Quentin said, leading her into the cabin with an arm across her shoulders. "I'll boil some water and make us some tea!"

"All right, Quentin," Angelique conceded. "But, we're not staying here…"

Quentin turned and stared at her as he lit the wood-burning stove. "We're not? Why, where are we going?"

Angelique sat in a chair and stared at him determinedly. "HOME, Quentin, that's where we're going… To Collinwood!"

Quentin shook his head and stoked the flame inside the stove. He put the kettle on top to heat up the water. "Not anymore, Angelique! If you went with Julia back to Seaview, then you've no doubt read my note—I'm not going back!" He turned back to the stove. "After what happened to Dameon—I can't ever go back to that house again!"

"But Quentin, you must!" Angelique exclaimed. "The police are looking for you! You have to go back and clear your name!"

"The police?" Quentin frowned. "Why would the police be looking for me?" A light went on in Quentin's head. "They don't think I have anything to do with Dameon's death, do they?" He walked towards Angelique. "Angelique, he fell—right before my very eyes… I didn't push him—in fact, I tried to stop him from falling!"

Angelique got up from the chair and put a hand on Quentin's arm. "Then come back to Collinwood with me and TELL the police that! There's this detective—his name's Larry Chase. Just tell him the truth so we can move on with our lives!"

Act Two:

Barnabas broke into Seaview after he watched Angelique and Julia leave the house. Finding the kitchen window unlocked, he squeezed his new tall, lanky frame through the small window and onto the kitchen counter. Oh, how Barnabas missed the ability to dematerialize in and out of buildings!

Brushing himself off and closing the window, Barnabas looked around for clues as to what Julia was doing now. He had followed her to the Collinsport University Hospital earlier that day, so he guessed that she must be working there or had something to do with a patient there.

Barnabas had spent the night before with a waitress he had met at the Blue Whale—a Miss Buffie Harrington. She seemed to know John somewhat, and it had been obvious to Barnabas she was attracted to the tall, blond young man. She had been visibly upset over something, and was more than willing to have someone spend the night with her. It had been so many, many years since Barnabas had been physically able to be intimate with someone as a mortal. So many, in fact, that Barnabas was hard-pressed to remember who or when it was.

There were still moving boxes everywhere, for Julia had not had time to unpack. Barnabas rubbed his scraped ribs from squeezing through the window. Yet another thing as a mortal he had to get used to—getting hurt! But getting hurt was not the most disturbing thing that mortals had to contend with to Barnabas. Going to bathroom had been an unpleasant experience, and Barnabas hoped that he would get used to it if he was going to continue in this body…

For Barnabas was contemplating never going back. He had a certain freedom now, as this young man, John Jaeger. The freedom from bloodlust, the freedom to move about and not be victim to the sunrise anymore. And, if he stayed away from her, he would not be the victim of Angelique anymore. He also was re-discovering the pleasures of the flesh… And now that he was mortal, Barnabas hoped to experience those pleasures over and over again!

As he searched through Julia's things—a rental agreement for Seaview here, a letter of employment from University Hospital there—something caught Barnabas' eye, glittering in a sunbeam as it sat amongst the umbrellas in the bottom of the coat rack…

Barnabas could scarcely believe it as he reached out and touched the silver wolf's head—sitting in sight but out of sight at the same time. Anyone looking at it would just think it was just an ornate umbrella handle.

"Julia…" Barnabas said outloud. He lifted the cane out of the umbrella stand and turned it over in his hands. "You kept it… You wanted to keep it…" He held it close to him and closed his eyes. Even though she and Willie had betrayed him, they only did it so that he would not be a danger to himself and those around him. He opened his eyes and ran his hand across the silver wolf's head. "I can start all over now," he said to himself. "With my new body, I can do everything the right way this time…"

Barnabas started to put the wolf's head cane back in the rack so that Julia could keep it, but he stopped himself. "No, Julia, Barnabas is dead… You have to forget about him…" Barnabas knew what he had to do now. He would have to destroy the Barnabas that now lay inside the coffin in the Old House. Destroy him so that he could be free, once and for all…

Taking the cane with him, Barnabas looked around the room once more, making sure that he put everything back where he found it. Then, he went to the front door and opened it, making sure that it was locked behind as he walked out into the early evening air…

Meanwhile, Horace Gladstone sat in the Blue Whale, drinking a beer in a mug in a corner table. He kept his eyes on the front door, waiting for a certain person to walk through the door. Make that TWO certain people—for Horace had heard gossip that John had left with a certain blonde waitress the night before. She was not here now, but Horace hoped that either her or John would walk in at any moment.

For it was up to Horace to find John, as per Angelique's orders. Horace grimaced as he swigged down his beer. He hated taking orders from Angelique, like some sort of errand boy, but she WAS the leader of the coven. And besides, Horace had secret romantic feelings towards the blonde witch. He knew that the beautiful sorceress would NEVER give him the time of day, but Horace hoped that by doing things for her—even if he hated them—would ingratiate him to her.

Suddenly, the front door of the Blue Whale opened, and in who should stride was the very man he had been sent out to find all day? "John!" Horace cried out, but the tall young man did not seem to hear him…

Act Three:

"John, over here!" Horace called out again. John barely glanced over at Horace and strode over to the bar. Horace was sure that John could hear him. Horace got up and walked over to the bar. He tapped John on the shoulder, who jumped and looked at him with surprise. "John, didn't you hear me? Where have you been?" Horace exclaimed.

Barnabas turned red, flush with embarrassment. He had forgotten what his name was in this mortal body. He glanced at the balding, middle-aged man, unsure of what his name was, but recognizing him anyway. "Um, I um, was thinking about something…" Barnabas stammered, grasping for something to answer with. "And the music was distracting me, I thought you were talking to someone else," he gestured around to the empty room.

"Right," Horace said. "What's that? What are you doing with that cane?" Horace gestured down to the wolf's head cane that Barnabas held against the floor.

Barnabas glanced down with surprise. "Oh, um, I found this in an antique shop today… I thought I'd look stylish with an old silver walking cane!"

"Okay," Horace was concerned. "Angelique has been looking for you. She said you didn't come back home after the séance last night."

Barnabas' face lit up with recognition, realizing who the man was, now. "Oh, the séance!" He stopped, realizing that John would know very well who he was, and that Horace was from the séance last night. "Oh, I don't want to deal with things like that anymore. I had to get out of that house. It's got…" Barnabas searched for the right words that John Jaeger would say, "Bad vibes!"

"Bad vibes…" Horace murmured. Between the walking stick, the general way that John was composing himself, and the strange accent he was now speaking in, it was as if John were acting like a different person. "Okay, John... I just realized I have to be somewhere right now… I'll see you later!" Horace gave him a grin and hurried over to the table he was sitting at to grab his coat and leave.

As Horace left he bar, Barnabas watched him, noting how nervous Horace was acting. Barnabas scowled, quite sure that Horace was going to report right back to Angelique and tell her about the wolf's head cane…

Meanwhile, Angelique and Quentin arrived back at Collinwood, Quentin having followed her in his own car. As they walked across the driveway together-Quentin holding his suitcase in one hand, his other hand on Angelique's shoulder-Quentin stopped and stared at the looming mansion, taking a big breath and exhaling it.

Angelique glanced up at him, smiling reassuringly. "It's going to be all right, Quentin. Dameon's death was an accident, and once the police know the truth, we can leave Collinwood together, our consciences clear!"

"Boy, do I hope you're right, Angelique!" Quentin said. "I just need something to go right, for once!" They continued on and Quentin let themselves into the house.

Roger stepped out of the Drawing Room upon hearing someone at the front door. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head when he saw Quentin and Angelique stepping through the foyer. "Quentin!" he exclaimed. Roger glanced nervously back towards the Drawing Room. "You're back!"

"Only for a little while, Roger," Quentin answered sheepishly. "Once this business with Dameon's death is cleared up, Angelique and I are going to get married and leave Collinwood forever!"

Roger glanced at the Drawing Room again. A man's voice could be heard speaking inside. "Maybe you'd better tell our guest that—he seems to have OTHER ideas!" Roger admonished.

Detective Larry Chase hung up the phone and walked out into the Great Hall. Seeing Roger speaking to a tall young man and Angelique, he guessed at the man's identity. "Quentin Collins, I presume?" he asked, looking at Quentin.

Quentin nodded. "I heard that there's been some question about Dameon's death, Detective. I want you to know that I'm here to answer any and all questions you might have."

Larry smiled sarcastically. "Well, that's good, Mr. Collins, but you'll have to answer them at the police station… I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but I'm going to have to arrest you for the murder of Dameon Edwards…" Quentin stood and stared at him, his mouth slightly open in shock…

Cast:

Roger Collins… LOUIS EDMONDS

Quentin Collins… DAVID SELBY

Angelique Rumson… LARA PARKER

Horace Gladstone… JOHN HARKINS

Larry Chase… KEN MCEWEN

and

Barnabas Collins/John Jaeger… CHRISTOPHER PENNOCK