Chapter 6

Crashing through the Georgetown entrance, Lee stormed towards the closet, determined to get an investigation started. Billy probably didn't even know what was going on yet. Mrs. Marston gave him an odd look, but said nothing.

Lee was grateful that some things hadn't changed. Billy was sitting at his desk, sipping coffee and warily eyeing a bottle of antacid.

Lee slammed through the door without knocking.

"Billy, they've taken Amanda."

"Who?"

Leaning onto the desk, Lee shook his head in frustration. "I don't know. They've covered their tracks, but I think we can..."

"No, Scarecrow. Who's Amanda? Is she one of your informants?"

Lee tried desperately to wrap his brain around the words coming from his boss. "Amanda, Billy." Lee's eyes pleaded with something to make sense in this world. "You KNOW Amanda," he insisted softly. At the blank look on Billy's face, he tried again. "She was my partner for years, we got married...you were at the ceremony, well the second one anyway, you were there when..."

Watching the concern blossom on Billy's face, he stopped, falling into the chair behind him. His face fell into his hands. "I don't understand what's happening, Billy."

Billy circled the desk. "Lee, you're not making any sense. Can you remember what happened to you? Were you hit on the head? Is it possible someone drugged you?"

At the very real tone of concern in his boss's voice, Lee looked up, finally surrendering to the insanity around him. Billy was real. He could believe in Billy. Billy wouldn't have been drugged, or brainwashed, or bribed to gaslight him.

And Billy didn't know Amanda.

"I don't know, Billy." He sighed heavily. "I don't know anything right now."

A tall brunette woman zipped efficiently into the office, dropping file folders on Billy's desk. "Rough day, Scarecrow? Here are the files you asked for, Billy. And Agent Harmon is on Line 2." She left as quickly as she'd come.

Lee didn't recognize her. Billy didn't generally bring in assistants from outside. "Francine have the day off?"

Billy sat down hard in the chair, sounding as if all the air had been pressed from his body.

"Francine?" he whispered.

Lee nodded slowly, not understanding the reaction his words had caused.

" Lee, I think you may have developed some form of amnesia. I'm going to call Dr. Kelford."

Speaking into the phone for a moment, Billy came back around the desk to sit beside his agent. "Lee, do you remember the case you worked on in 1983? There was a woman named Mrs. Welch who hosted a cooking show..."

"But it was all a front--she was using her recipes to transfer secrets to the Russians." Lee's face lit up. "That's the case where I met Amanda!"

Billy's face fell, obvious grief straining his features. "Lee, I don't know who this Amanda is, but the case dragged on for months, without a lead in sight. Before we finally figured out what she was doing, she must have decided Francine was too much of a liability...." Billy's body sagged in the chair. "We didn't realize Francine was the leak until she was killed." Breath swooped back into his body. "But I never believed she leaked that information intentionally. *Never*", he added more forcefully. "I can't believe that, Lee. I trusted her. She was my friend. I know, we don't have friends, but dammit, she was mine."

Lee stared, stunned. "No, no, that 's not the way it happened! Amanda's son opened the box, and she made the connection, and..."

Belatedly, T.P.'s words finally sunk in.

"In this world, she *did* deliver that package."

The courier had been killed. The Agency had never found out what was in the package.

"and you never had any reason to meet her again. You never even knew her name."

He'd never met Amanda.

"To show you all of the changes that you have affected. More accurately, the changes you and Amanda have affected."

He and Amanda had never met. And Francine was dead.

"No. No, that's impossible." Lee jumped up, desperately trying to hold reality at bay.

Lee turned to see Doc Kelford coming toward the office. The last thing he wanted was to be kept for observation for hours, or even overnight.

"Listen, Billy, I've got to get out of here, I just need to get some fresh air and I'll be fine."

Billy approached him slowly, as though gentling a horse. "Lee, are you sure that's a good idea? You've obviously experienced some sort of trauma. Maybe something sparked a repressed memory surrounding Francine's death and..."

"No, really, just, just give me some time to sort this all out. I promise, I'll be fine."

Reluctantly, Billy nodded. "Alright Scarecrow, but you've got a standing appointment with psych if you need to talk."

Trying not to look as nervous as he felt, Lee hurried out to his car.

In desperation, Lee played his last card. He dialed 4-1-1.

"Information? I need a number for King, Amanda King."

"Really? Are you sure? Could you check again...yeah, thanks." He disconnected.

Lee dropped his head to the steering wheel.

He knew the name, he heard it every night on the news. He just couldn't bring himself to do it.

But if it was his last chance to see her...

He dialed again.

"Yes, do you have a listing for McGuire? Dean McGuire?"