(10 )
Slanting across his face, a ray of morning sunlight woke him. Sam groaned, rolling away from the light, unwilling as yet to face another day at Collinwood. He would have snuggled deeper under the covers and gone back to uneasy dreams, but a familiar raspy voice prodded him awake. "Rise and shine, Sam."
Reluctantly, Sam opened his eyes, and with another groan, sat up. "I'll rise, but I refuse to shine."
"Whatever happened to up at dawn, feed the chickens, milk the cows?" Al teased, grinning around a freshly lit cigar. For someone who had pulled all night guard duty, he seemed remarkably fresh. Sam wanted to hit him.
"Oddly enough, when I was doing all that back on the farm, I'd never just tried to walk off a cliff the night before," Sam said caustically. He yawned mightily, then added, "I had the weirdest dreams..."
Eyebrows raised, Al waited to be enlightened. But Sam hesitated. It had been a strange, stressful night; it was perfectly natural that he had dreamed, and that Barnabas Collins had played a major role in those dreams. Wasn't it?
"It's nothing." He shrugged, shook his head ruefully. "You know how dreams are. Nonsense."
"If you say so." For once, Al wasn't inclined to push. "While you were getting your beauty rest, Ziggy and I have been busy."
Sam snorted. "Beauty rest? Hah!" With the night he'd spent, it was a minor miracle he hadn't awoken with gray hair.
Frowning, Al lowered the 'link. "Sure you don't want to talk about it?"
"I'm sure." Sam suppressed a shudder. Nightmares....
Al studied him for a long moment more, then turned his attention back to the tiny screen. "We've found out a bit more about Vicki."
"Great." Sam yawned again. "Anything helpful?"
"That part is still up for debate," Al admitted, waving the handlink. "We--"
Unable to help himself, Sam had yawned right in the middle of Al's sentence. He offered an apologetic smile. "Sorry."
"Am I boring you?" Al asked, lowering the 'link. "I could be having breakfast with Tina right about now, you know. Instead, I spent the night with a computer, burning the midnight oil and listening to you snore."
"I do not snore," Sam said, with dignity.
"Yes, you do." Al adjusted his jacket, paying particular attention to getting the lapels straight, then shot his cuffs. "Like a buzzsaw."
Sam opened his mouth to protest the slur, then thought better of it. "So what did you find?"
"A birth certificate."
"How--?"
Al waved one hand in an airy gesture of dismissal. "One thing led to another and...viola!"
"So you know who her parents are? I mean, were." Sam looked confused. "You said she's an orphan."
"Her father is dead, at least according to the birth certificate," Al said. "But her mother is alive and well and living in Collinsport."
He looked suddenly angry, outraged on Vicki's behalf. "Living here, as a matter of fact."
"At Collinwo--Not Elizabeth?"
"None other." Al's dark eyes glinted with contained fire. "Living in the lap of luxury while her poor kid struggles along, not even knowing who she really is..."
"But what can I do about it?" Sam asked. "I can't confront Elizabeth." After all, how could Vicki have learned the truth? He had to stay "in character." It made him think, though. How could Vicki learn the truth? He couldn't leave her a note, and an entry in her journal would only have her wondering if she'd developed multiple personalities.
"Earth to Dr. Beckett."
Sam started at the hologram's shout. "What?"
"You were off in the ozone," the Observer complained.
"I was thinking about Vicki," Sam said. "There has to be some way to let her know the truth."
"Well, we can't just tell her," Al said, then corrected himself, "Okay, we could just tell her, but it wouldn't do a lot of good. She'd just forget when she Leaped back."
"So what we really need is a way to convince Elizabeth to tell Vicki."
"I'll put Ziggy on it," Al said, "but don't hold your breath. He's still pretty wound up in all this Barnabas-Collins-is-a-vampire stuff."
The mention of Barnabas' name recalled to Sam's mind his uneasy dreams and all the questions surrounding Barnabas. Why had he come into Vicki's room last night? What had he been planning? And how had he conveniently turned up at Widow's Hill in time to stop Sam from going over the edge? Could he have been
following "Vicki"--Indeed, could he have been responsible for Sam being there in the first place?
"Has Ziggy found out anything more about Barnabas?" he asked, shaking his head to dispel the disturbing images. "Besides the vampire stuff, I mean."
"As far as Ziggy is concerned, he's told us everything we need to know," Al said. "He keeps throwing Occam's Razor at us."
The simplest solution is usually the correct one. Sam nodded. "I keep hoping someone will come up with a simpler solution."
"If I think of one, you'll be the first to know," Al promised. "In the meantime, do we proceed with the hypothesis that there's only one Barnabas Collins and we've got 'im?"
Sam had hoped to avoid that question. He sighed. "He was here last night, Al. Crept in through the window."
"He what?" Al snatched the cigar from his mouth and jabbed it at Sam. "And you didn't tell me?"
Heaving another sigh, Sam got up and began to pace. "It happened last night, before I went for a walk and nearly...well, you now. To tell you the truth, I've been trying to decide whether or not I dreamed the whole thing."
"Sam," Al hesitated, unsure how to proceed. Finally, he blurted, "What if Barnabas is responsible for what happened last night? What if he's the one trying to kill Vicki?"
The same thoughts had occurred to Sam. "I don't know, Al. Did he do it?"
Narrowing his eyes, Al shrugged. "All we have is circumstantial evidence, and damn little of that. Ziggy hasn't turned up anything that would prove it one way or the other." He gave the handlink an amiable swat. "On the other hand, the guy definitely gives me the creeps."
In a soft voice, Sam whispered, "Me, too."
** ** ** **
Slanting across his face, a ray of morning sunlight woke him. Sam groaned, rolling away from the light, unwilling as yet to face another day at Collinwood. He would have snuggled deeper under the covers and gone back to uneasy dreams, but a familiar raspy voice prodded him awake. "Rise and shine, Sam."
Reluctantly, Sam opened his eyes, and with another groan, sat up. "I'll rise, but I refuse to shine."
"Whatever happened to up at dawn, feed the chickens, milk the cows?" Al teased, grinning around a freshly lit cigar. For someone who had pulled all night guard duty, he seemed remarkably fresh. Sam wanted to hit him.
"Oddly enough, when I was doing all that back on the farm, I'd never just tried to walk off a cliff the night before," Sam said caustically. He yawned mightily, then added, "I had the weirdest dreams..."
Eyebrows raised, Al waited to be enlightened. But Sam hesitated. It had been a strange, stressful night; it was perfectly natural that he had dreamed, and that Barnabas Collins had played a major role in those dreams. Wasn't it?
"It's nothing." He shrugged, shook his head ruefully. "You know how dreams are. Nonsense."
"If you say so." For once, Al wasn't inclined to push. "While you were getting your beauty rest, Ziggy and I have been busy."
Sam snorted. "Beauty rest? Hah!" With the night he'd spent, it was a minor miracle he hadn't awoken with gray hair.
Frowning, Al lowered the 'link. "Sure you don't want to talk about it?"
"I'm sure." Sam suppressed a shudder. Nightmares....
Al studied him for a long moment more, then turned his attention back to the tiny screen. "We've found out a bit more about Vicki."
"Great." Sam yawned again. "Anything helpful?"
"That part is still up for debate," Al admitted, waving the handlink. "We--"
Unable to help himself, Sam had yawned right in the middle of Al's sentence. He offered an apologetic smile. "Sorry."
"Am I boring you?" Al asked, lowering the 'link. "I could be having breakfast with Tina right about now, you know. Instead, I spent the night with a computer, burning the midnight oil and listening to you snore."
"I do not snore," Sam said, with dignity.
"Yes, you do." Al adjusted his jacket, paying particular attention to getting the lapels straight, then shot his cuffs. "Like a buzzsaw."
Sam opened his mouth to protest the slur, then thought better of it. "So what did you find?"
"A birth certificate."
"How--?"
Al waved one hand in an airy gesture of dismissal. "One thing led to another and...viola!"
"So you know who her parents are? I mean, were." Sam looked confused. "You said she's an orphan."
"Her father is dead, at least according to the birth certificate," Al said. "But her mother is alive and well and living in Collinsport."
He looked suddenly angry, outraged on Vicki's behalf. "Living here, as a matter of fact."
"At Collinwo--Not Elizabeth?"
"None other." Al's dark eyes glinted with contained fire. "Living in the lap of luxury while her poor kid struggles along, not even knowing who she really is..."
"But what can I do about it?" Sam asked. "I can't confront Elizabeth." After all, how could Vicki have learned the truth? He had to stay "in character." It made him think, though. How could Vicki learn the truth? He couldn't leave her a note, and an entry in her journal would only have her wondering if she'd developed multiple personalities.
"Earth to Dr. Beckett."
Sam started at the hologram's shout. "What?"
"You were off in the ozone," the Observer complained.
"I was thinking about Vicki," Sam said. "There has to be some way to let her know the truth."
"Well, we can't just tell her," Al said, then corrected himself, "Okay, we could just tell her, but it wouldn't do a lot of good. She'd just forget when she Leaped back."
"So what we really need is a way to convince Elizabeth to tell Vicki."
"I'll put Ziggy on it," Al said, "but don't hold your breath. He's still pretty wound up in all this Barnabas-Collins-is-a-vampire stuff."
The mention of Barnabas' name recalled to Sam's mind his uneasy dreams and all the questions surrounding Barnabas. Why had he come into Vicki's room last night? What had he been planning? And how had he conveniently turned up at Widow's Hill in time to stop Sam from going over the edge? Could he have been
following "Vicki"--Indeed, could he have been responsible for Sam being there in the first place?
"Has Ziggy found out anything more about Barnabas?" he asked, shaking his head to dispel the disturbing images. "Besides the vampire stuff, I mean."
"As far as Ziggy is concerned, he's told us everything we need to know," Al said. "He keeps throwing Occam's Razor at us."
The simplest solution is usually the correct one. Sam nodded. "I keep hoping someone will come up with a simpler solution."
"If I think of one, you'll be the first to know," Al promised. "In the meantime, do we proceed with the hypothesis that there's only one Barnabas Collins and we've got 'im?"
Sam had hoped to avoid that question. He sighed. "He was here last night, Al. Crept in through the window."
"He what?" Al snatched the cigar from his mouth and jabbed it at Sam. "And you didn't tell me?"
Heaving another sigh, Sam got up and began to pace. "It happened last night, before I went for a walk and nearly...well, you now. To tell you the truth, I've been trying to decide whether or not I dreamed the whole thing."
"Sam," Al hesitated, unsure how to proceed. Finally, he blurted, "What if Barnabas is responsible for what happened last night? What if he's the one trying to kill Vicki?"
The same thoughts had occurred to Sam. "I don't know, Al. Did he do it?"
Narrowing his eyes, Al shrugged. "All we have is circumstantial evidence, and damn little of that. Ziggy hasn't turned up anything that would prove it one way or the other." He gave the handlink an amiable swat. "On the other hand, the guy definitely gives me the creeps."
In a soft voice, Sam whispered, "Me, too."
** ** ** **