Sam sat up abruptly in her bed and jolted awake. She had been dreaming something that she could no longer remember, but judging from the sheen of cold sweat covering her body, it had been disturbing. She got out of bed and padded to the kitchen, flipping on the light over the sink and filling a mug with water to microwave for some herb tea.

As she sat down with her steaming cup, her mind drifted to Jack for the countless time that week, wondering how he was faring up in North Inlet, alone. Ever since his disclosure to her in the diner about his past, remarkable in both its unexpectedness and its detail, Sam had wanted nothing more than to jump in her car and follow him up there. He'd been gone for two days now, and she hadn't heard from him yet. Not that she expected to. It was just as likely that her very private friend would never speak to her again about this strange episode in his life.

The more she thought about the events he'd related concerning his father's death, though, the more it had struck her as peculiar. If North Inlet was as small as he said, then a stranger wouldn't have gone unnoticed for long. But if the shooting had been accidental, why hadn't the man just turned himself in? He wouldn't have gone to jail for an accident. And why did Jack remember him with such dreadful clarity? He must have been very near Jack and his father when he shot him.

It had most likely been deliberate, Sam was realizing; chances were Jack's father had been murdered all those years ago and Jack had seen the killer. Somewhere in his mind, Jack must know it too. He just didn't want to think about it.

"Good morning Miriam," Jack greeted the frail woman, seating himself at her kitchen table with a generous mug of coffee before him, provided by Teddy. The boy slipped out of the room upon receiving a nod of the head from the sullen older woman.

"Hello, Jonathan," she answered. Her eyes studied him gravely and without emotion. Miriam shoved a pile of papers in front of him.

"I won't keep you. The deed to the property, the keys to the house, the will, and a few other documents you should have are all there."

Jack looked at her in amazement.

"So, that's it? Just like that?"

Finally, Miriam visibly displayed enough of the remains of a conscience to appear a bit uncomfortable.

"I have nothing else to give to you," she explained coldly. "My phone number is on the package there, however. If you have a question about any of this, call me. Teddy and I aren't goin' nowhere."

"Okay," Jack sighed. "Thanks. I guess."

She was somehow able to make him feel dirty and guilty just for being there. He tucked the bundle of papers and envelopes under his arm, stood up and gave her one last searching stare before stretching on his toesand heading towards the door.

"You leavin' North Inlet, then?" She asked.

"Actually, I thought I'd stick around a few days. Got a few places I want to visit again, that sort of thing." Jack lithely shrugged the plaid flannel shirt further up his shoulders in a restless gesture.

"Teddy will see you out," she nodded at the boy. "And Jonathan?"

"Yeah?"

"Your mother was a good woman, you know."

Jack turned and continued walking to the door. "Yeah." He agreed quietly yet bitterly. Without another backwards look, he left.

"Hey, Sam," Daniel greeted the scientist with a friendly grin upon finding her nursing a cup of tea in the cafeteria.

"Sam?" Daniel attempted once more, leaning down into her face. She hadn't acknowledged his presence by either word or gesture.

"Daniel! Sorry, I guess I'm a bit preoccupied."

"Would this have anything to do with Jack?" Daniel queried as he sat down next to her.

"Oh, did he tell you about his trip too?" Sam asked, surprised. She'd been under the impression that she was the only person Jack had confided in before his abrupt departure to Minnesota.

"What trip would that be, Sam?"

"Uh oh." No, Daniel was just good at worming things out of her.

"I've noticed he's gone, and you're walking around like you're in another dimension. So I decided to come find out what's going on. Is Jack okay?"

"Umm, uhh..."

"Okay, let me guess. Jack told you he had to go take care of something that he doesn't want anyone to know about, and you think he needs help, but you don't want to break his trust."

"You're good, Daniel."

"Sam, one thing I've learned about Jack over the past ten years is he may act like he's dealing with stuff on his own but he's not dealing with it at all in reality."

"So what do you think I should do?"

"Take some leave, you've got more leave saved up than all four of us put together. The only one of us who doesn't know how much Jack relies on you is Jack. Go be there for him. Do it for all of us. I'm worried about him, too, you know."

"I want to, Daniel, really. But Jack doesn't want any company right now."

"Why? Because he said so? He doesn't know what he wants. Needs."

Sam smiled and nodded, thinking through the idea. "Maybe I will. I'm not sure yet, but you might be right."

Another night in the dark, drafty house had taken its toll on Jack. His sleep these last three nights had been light and fitful, and his mood this morning due to the accumulating lack of sleep was beginning to be truly frightful. He sat outside in a bent willow lawn chairperched inthe shade of an old tree, shuffling through the mass of papers he had been given by Miriam. Not just deeds and legal documents, there were newspaper articles, old pictures, even a recipe stuck in between the pages. Jack sorted the stuff into several piles, trying to make sense of it all.

Since leaving Miriam's house two mornings ago, Jack hadn't seen, nor had he talked to, anyone. He'd spent most of yesterday meandering through the woods around his mother's property.

He'd found himself, at one point in the afternoon, standing on a treed hillside, when a rush of familiarity had overwhelmed him so thoroughly that he had sat down right where he stood. He was on the very hill where he'd watched his father die. Even all these years later, the shock was profound and he had left the area as soon as he was able.

Later that evening, he'd wandered down to the shore of the lake and watched the sunset, recapturing the awe and appreciation he'd felt in his youth for the natural beauty of this place. Getting back to the old house without the benefit of a light had been a bit tricky, but he'd managed to find a few candles and Teddy's oil lamp and light them in the main room. It was kind of fun making do without electricity, Jack thought.

But bynow, the next morning, the stillness was getting tedious. He stood and headed back to the house to grab a can of coke out of the cooler he'd been keeping in the kitchen, but stopped on the threshold when he heard a noise down the drive. A car engine. Someone was coming to see him.

Jack walked back out to the driveway just as Sam's silver coupe rolled to a stop a the top of the drive. He watched in amazement as she jumped out and walked towards him, yawning and smiling, dressed casually in a long sleeved, flowered shirt, paired with jeans that looked flawless on her.

"Sam?"

"Uh, sir, I'm sorry to just drop in on you without any warning, and I know how you hate to be surprised like this, but I-I--"

With single-minded sureness Jack walked straight over to her and was now hugging her so disarmingly that she stuttered to a halt. Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply and simply, savoring his affection and warmth that washed over her. It was obvious to her from his unguarded reaction to her presence that no apologies or explanations were needed.

"I'm really glad you're here. I was this close-" he held up his fingers, half an inch apart- "to calling you, anyway." Jack stepped back a bit. "Come on in, I'll show you the house I grew up in."

Sam followed him up the wide, worn down porch steps, noticing the broken woodwork and peeling paint, and into the front hallway.

"Back here is the kitchen, best room in the house," Jack was calling from the back of the house, having left her standing near the front door. She followed his voice and joined him in a room of red brick and darkened wood floorboards, a big, rambling country kitchen typical of turn-of-the-century houses. It had a certain Victorian charm that appealed to Sam's sense of décor.

"Coffee's still hot," Jack noted, pointing to a generously sized percolator perched on a hot wood stove. "No electricity," he explained.

"Wow, so you've been roughing it?" Sam smiled. If anyone could adjust seamlessly to a lack of electrical power, it was Jack. She helped herself to a spatterwear blue coffee mug and filled it with the comfortingly hot beverage. Sitting near the warm stove in a cheerfully padded wooden rocker, Sam sighed with pleasure.

"If I'd known you were staying in a place this lovely, I'd have come with you to begin with."

"You should have. Although, it doesn't seem all that lovely to me at the moment. Hey, you're good with paperwork. Come out and help me sort out all this stuff, please, Sam?" Jack gestured towards the window at his piles outside under the tree, each secured with a dusty rock. Sam shuddered at the casualness with which he was treating the valuable old documents.

"Sure," she agreed readily.

Soon Sam had taken the situation well in hand. Persuading him to move the whole operation indoors hadn't been too hard, especially when a wind off the lake began to worry the loose pages. Now she had somehow pulled out several file folders and was neatly labeling and filling up each one. Jack had left the whole mess in her capable hands as soon as he had been able to sneak away gracefully, and was now keeping her supplied with coffee while he made a dent in the beer supply. She worked at the sturdy oak table in the center of the kitchen. He watched her from the comfortable embrace of an old easy chair which he had pulled up near the wood stove.

"There are enough pictures to fill two file folders in here. This must be you," Sam cooed, holding up a black and white photo of a boy, around seven years old, dressed in his best suit and wearing a huge scowl.

"Yes, I loved dressing up then about as much as I do now." Jack grimaced.

"Who's this?" Sam asked curiously. She was holding a picture of Jack, now about twelve, standing next to a serious young girl of nine or ten. Her dark brown hair hung in two neat braids and her hands were straight at her sides as if she were at attention.

"Miriam Bennett," Jack answered woodenly. He turned away. His mood had changed as abruptly as a summer storm.

"Why don't you two like each other?"

"I don't know," Jack answered, bemused. "But she's never liked me and so, I avoided her. It was mutual. But I don't know what started it, it's just the way we've always been."

"Your mom must have taken this, you can just see the shadow of someone in a dress here," Sam pointed out. "Although, it looks like someone is standing next to her, right next to her, from the look of this other shadow. Hmm. Your Dad must have been with her."

Jack smiled at Sam's usual microscopic thoroughness, but then frowned and took the picture from her hands, studying it closely. Then he handed it back.

"It does look like two shadows, but it couldn't have been my Dad. He was dead when this was taken. That was at his funeral."

"Maybe it was an uncle, or someone close to your mother?"

Jack was silent for a long moment. "Maybe." His facial expression said otherwise. He had no relatives on his mother's side.

"Sorry, Jack," Sam suddenly said, putting the picture away. "I'm not being much help, am I? How about I cook us something for dinner?"

Jack finally smirked and began to look relaxed again. "You are worried about me if you're offering to cook. It's okay, you don't have to resort to cooking for me. I've got some fresh groceries. You can help me come up with something creative."

Sam began hunting through the kitchen to familiarize herself with its contents while Jack picked up the papers from the table, now neatly ordered, and removed them to the desk in the foyer. He glanced back at Sam, and then carefully pulled out the photo again.

Something about it was niggling at him, but he just couldn't quite retrieve it from his hazy childhood memory banks.

Shaking his head, he put the picture away and went in to be near Sam.

He was glad beyond words for her uncomplicated presence, and for her unexpected yet welcome appearance this morning.

He needed her here, he admitted to himself.

This house, with its claustrophobic shadows of memories, was really starting to get to him.