Chapter 10: Trouble

Disclaimer: Only Lorrie, Taylor, and Angela Miller are really mine. And Kaitlin. And our…oh, wait, I can't tell you about him yet!

A/N: You guys have all been great! I've gotten a lot of encouraging reviews, as well as some good criticism. I love you guys for putting up with my irregular postings, my technical errors, and everything else!

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Sydney slipped over to see Lorrie later that day, about an hour before she expected Danny home, and brought Jaime with her. She wasn't sure why she went over there; if Taylor Miller caught her Lorrie would be in trouble, and he might recognize her resemblance to his missing wife. She just felt like, in light of what Michael had revealed, she needed to talk to Lorrie.

Sydney knocked on the back door of Lorrie's house, which was quickly thrown open.

"Sydney, what are you doing here?!?" Lorrie cried. "If my dad catches you, I'll be in trouble, and I what he'll do to you!"

"I know, Lorrie," Sydney said soothingly. "After all, you said I look like your…my…our mother, so he might think so, too. I can't risk letting him see me, but if he drives up, we'll hear him. Now can I come in? I'll only stay a few minutes."

Lorrie considered for a moment before stepping back. "He cant' see you," she reminded her urgently.

Sydney said nothing as Lorrie led her through the kitchen, then the living room, and down the hall into her room. Instead, she thought about what exactly she planned to tell Lorrie. For some reason, Sydney felt instinctively that eventually it would be important for Lorrie to realize the full extent of what Irina Derevko had done. Did that mean she expected the woman to contact Lorrie, too?

In the end, Sydney decided to be honest and tell Lorrie all of what she knew.

"Sydney, what are you doing here?" Lorrie repeated as she sat cross-legged on her bed.

"I…I found out why Michael Vaughn is so…strange around us," Sydney said, not sure she should have started that way.

"Really? Why?" Lorrie asked interestedly.

"Lorrie…" Sydney closed her eyes and shook her head.

Lorrie's eyes lost their gleam of childish curiosity and became worried. "What?"

"Our mother…I mean…she killed his father," Sydney forced herself to say, seeing again the pained, angry expression he'd worn when he told her. Would he really have wanted her to immediately come tell someone else his secret? She wondered guiltily.

"And he's living with you, when you look just like her?" Lorrie exclaimed. "It must be terrible for him!" Then her eyes filled with tears as reality sunk in. "No! She couldn't have! Not Mom!"

"It was her, Lorrie. If you'd seen Michael when he told me…you'd have to believe it," Sydney said, sitting beside Lorrie and putting her arm around her. "I'm sorry. I know. I know," she murmured.

"I can't believe my mom could do that," Lorrie whispered, working hard to hold back the tears. She was silent for a long time. "Can I talk to Michael?" she asked suddenly.

Sydney looked down at her in surprise and obvious disapproval of the idea. "Lorrie, I don't think that's a good idea. It was hard for him to tell me about his dad, it was like he was letting me in on some big secret. I don't think he'll like it that I came and told you about it. I only did that because the more we know about what she did, the less likely we'll be to let her cause trouble by thinking she's a sweet, wonderful person. She'll hurt us like that," Sydney said, before she even realized that she was repeating word for word something Michael had said about Derek a few days before.

Lorrie considered what Sydney said then seemed to drop the idea.

"M…Our mother really did that stuff? She really killed people?" she asked tearfully, practically begging Sydney to tell her it was all lies.

Tears filled Sydney's eyes too now.

"I'm afraid she did. Lorrie, if you'd seen Michael, you'd believe it too," Sydney said again.

"So let me talk to him," Lorrie insisted. "I'll be careful what I say, I won't be blunt about it." She used one of her vocabulary words from Sydney's class, getting a smile from her teacher.

Sydney sighed. "Okay," she relented, snatching Jaime up off the floor before Lorrie's math homework found its way into his mouth. "Do you have time before your dad gets home?"

"I don't care. I might. I want to talk to Mr. Vaughn as soon as possible," Lorrie said firmly.

"Okay, Lorrie," Sydney repeated. "But we have to be careful. This is a CIA investigation, and if your dad finds out about this both of us and even Agent Vaughn could get in big trouble."

Lorrie nodded. "Okay. Now, let's go before it's too late," she urged.

*************************************************************************************Vaughn frowned disapprovingly at Sydney when she and Lorrie walked into the living room. "What's she doing here?" he asked rudely. Then, noticing his own tone, added, "I mean, what if her father should come home early or something?"

Lorrie stepped in front of Sydney and stood with her hands on her hips. "Why can't you talk to me? Can't you stop talking about me like I can't hear you?" she snapped.

Vaughn looked at her in surprise, as though amazed that this little girl wasn't afraid of this man that was used to inspiring obedience in rebellious recruits.

Sydney interpreted his look another way, and she put her arm around Lorrie's shoulders. "Tell us, Mr. Vaughn, what is so repulsive about Lorrie that you can't talk to her?" She asked in a defensive tone, and received a look saying she already knew that answer in response.

Then Vaughn stood from his seat on the couch and held out his hands. "I didn't mean it like that," he said, careful to direct his answer towards both Sydney and Lorrie. "And it's just…simpler not to speak to you, Lorrie. I don't think you could understand."

Completely ignoring his attempts at an apology, Lorrie pressed on. "I look like her, don't I? Is that why it's 'simpler' not to talk to me?" she inquired, crossing her arms and waiting for his reaction. She already knew the answer, but he frustrated her, and she wanted to make him say it.

Vaughn stared at Lorrie for a moment before shifting his gaze to Sydney. He waited for her to guiltily meet his eyes before he spoke. "Does she mean," he said slowly when she finally looked at him, "What I think she means?"

Sydney sighed. "Yes. I thought she should…"

"I didn't intend to tell you that," Vaughn said loudly, raising his voice. He spoke coldly and slowly, drawing out each cutting syllable. "It was a mistake to tell anyone, but more so to tell you." He turned and paced a few steps, then turned back to them. "Yes, both of you look like exhaust replicas of the cold- blooded, evil woman that killed my father," he said, his eyes gone dull and unreadable; even the coldness was gone. "Now, I'm taking the little girl back where she belongs before her father discovers her missing."

"I'll walk her back," Sydney said softly, fearful of the dullness in his eyes and not wanting to leave Lorrie with him.

"No, I can't have you compromising an investigation by letting that man see you." He grabbed Lorrie roughly by her arm and pulled her toward the door. She struggled to escape his grasp, struggling to pull her arm free. "Come on, Lorrie," he said, giving her an extra rough tug. "I believe someone just pulled into your driveway."

Lorrie gasped and stopped fighting immediately. Sydney followed, and at the door Vaughn turned to face both of them.

"Don't let me catch either of you were you don't belong again. Mrs. Hecht, you are not to go into Taylor Miller's house, and Lorrie, you better stay out of this house. Your father is not to find out about your connection to Mrs. Hecht until the CIA okays it," he added as they continued out the door.

"Come find me in the morning, Lorrie," Sydney called softly, afraid of Taylor Miller hearing.

"Okay," Lorrie called back.

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by the time the pair reached Lorrie's back door, Taylor Miller was already inside, calling for Lorrie. Lorrie lunged for the door, but Michael held her back.

"Damn," he muttered. "We'll have to do this the hard way. Come on," he added, jogging toward the trees at the edge of the yard.

"Hey!" Lorrie protested.

"Come on!" Michael snapped.

"But I'll be in trouble!"

"Not as much as you'd be in if you came through the back door. He'd know where you'd been."

Under the cover of the trees, Lorrie jerked loose and faces Michael. "What are you doing?!?" she asked incredulously.

"Keeping you from getting caught." Michael paced about two steps and asked, " How well does your dad know the neighbors around here?"

Lorrie shrugged. "He wouldn't know Mrs. Smith from Old Mr. Cagen," she laughed humorlessly.

"Good. Look, we're going through a few back yards. We'll walk back up the road and I'll tell your father I caught you in my yard doing…I don't know, something. Just act guilty, okay?" Michael implored.

"He'll be furious!" Lorrie cried as he helped her over the fence separating her yard from the next one.

"Got any better ideas? I think this is best," he muttered. Lorrie noticed he avoided looking at her, but decided that this wasn't the time to mention it.

"Fine." As had become her habit, she switched topics abruptly. "Did you mean what you said about me staying away from Sydney's house?"

"Yes," he said shortly. When she didn't respond, he glanced over at her.

He saw the lost, sad look on her face, and the resigned way she took the news; she wouldn't fight it. She seemed to believe it had simply been too good to last. He sighed.

"Look," he said, "I can't tell you to stay away from Sydney's house, not now anyway. That's not my decision at this point. I won't complain about it as long as you don't do anything stupid and you leave by six. And your dad doesn't find out."

Lorrie wasn't sure what to say. This offer, if you could call it that, was anything but generous. A snappish reply seemed out of place. Before she could say anything, he grabbed her arm like he had before and began to walk along the sidewalk back toward her house.

"Look guilty," he muttered.

Upon reaching her front door, he pounded his fist against it angrily, keeping a tighter than necessary grip on her arm.

"Ow!" she mumbled before her father opened the door.

Michael heard her cry and loosened his grip on the girl's arm. He knew he shouldn't think that way, but she looked so much like her mother…

"What's going on here?" Taylor Miller snapped, looking form Michael to Lorrie, to his grip on her arm, and noted Lorrie's well timed struggle to break loose.

"This is your kid, right?" Michael growled.

"Yeah, she's mine," Miller said defensively. "What's going on?"

"I caught this brat…"

"Dad, I didn't…" Lorrie interrupted with perfect timing.

"Hush up, Lorrie. What'd she do?" Miller asked Michael.

"This brat was snipping roses off my wife's bushes," Michael lied. He shoved her in past her father.

"I'll take care of it," Miller said, shutting the door in Michael's face. No wonder he doesn't know the neighbor's, he thought.

"I just wanted a couple for my room!" hw heard Lorrie shout a moment later. "Nobody would have missed them, there were like a couple dozen bushes out there!"

She's good, Michael thought. Very convincing. Just like her mother must have been…

He shook that thought away and doubled back over the route he'd taken with Lorrie. He hoped she'd be okay; something about Miller just didn't sit right with him…

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So, Michael thinks Taylor Miller might be up to something…or may be he's in trouble…

What do you think? This is about to get really good, just you wait!

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