V

Rachel was walking alone in the dark. The street seemed endless but she carried on looking for the corner. She then felt it. A tingle in the back of her head, not painless but certainly not painful either. She looked at either side. Try as she might, she stood no chance against an immortal, let alone unarmed.

She began to run and she heard the footsteps behind her. Every step she took was followed by one of whoever was behind her. Only the steps of that person were loud and echoed in the darkness. She saw a shape in the far away distance, approaching. She felt safe for only a second. She realised who it was. The bald man with the hat that she had seen the day of her death. He was grinning evilly, that grin that made her shudder. She turned to run to the other side. She stopped. The same man was behind her. She saw the entrance to an alley and headed without thought in. A third shape blocked her way... the same man. She was cornered. They began to draw in. She screamed in terror, calling out for help...

"Rachel. Rachel!"

She felt shaken by someone. Behind half-closed eyes she saw Connor holding her. She looked around without moving her head. It was the bedroom. She was in bed. It had all been a bad dream.

"Are you OK, Rachel?" Duncan was by the door, concerned as Connor was.

"Yes... why?" she lied.

"You were screaming in between dreams." Connor said softly, as he embraced his daughter.

"I don't want to cause you worry, Connor." She whispered lovingly.

"I'd still worry." He said tenderly. Duncan smiled at the scene and moved away.

-----

Minutes later, Connor left her and headed out. He found Duncan with a cup of coffee in hands.

"Can't sleep?" At Duncan's negative, he spoke again. "I don't think I can either." He sat by his clansman, who served him some coffee. He sipped and sighed. "This is killing me."

"I'm disturbed by her dreams, Connor."

"So do I. It puzzles me. She screams out loud to someone to keep away from her. She cries for help. It's like..."

"She has given a face to..." Duncan breathed in. "whoever planted the bomb."

"You think she saw him... or her?"

"It is something we haven't considered. But who would be so reckless to do that, knowing she would resurrect?"

Connor plunged the coffee down his throat. "Only someone who doesn't care."

"Anyway, I think we should discuss this with her."

"Tomorrow. I'll stay up, just in case she should have more of those fits."

-----

The following morning, Rachel looked terrible. She stared in distress at Duncan when he sat by her as she had some tea and toasts for breakfast.

"We have to talk."

"About?" she queried as she yawned.

"Connor and I..." he paused, noticing Connor had drawn a chair and joined them, "we have reasons to believe you know who did it."

"I..." she shivered. Her teeth almost chattered. "I don't know."

"Rachel..." Connor said kindly. "We think you do. What do you remember from that day?"

Her eyes went moist. "I was returning home with the gifts. I walked in. The video was on. The phone rang... the beeps... those awful beeps... one, two three." Her voice went higher into a scream. "then I heard the explosion, all went up in an orange blaze and..." she stood up "the pain... all over me... consuming me!" she broke into tears. Connor patted her back.

"Don't worry, Rachel."

The bell rang. Duncan glanced at his watch, and let out a silent damnation. Only one person would be inconsiderate enough to call in at seven thirty in the morning. He stared at Connor, who shook his head, his mouth speaking mute profanities as well. Both Highlanders left the kitchen and the troubled Rachel by herself.

Duncan opened, expecting to find Randi MacFarlane with her recorder ready. Instead, a slim black officer was standing there, staring detachedly at him. He walked inside without permission and into the living room, where Connor put his best courteous face, also surprised by Randi not being there.

"Hello, I'm Sergeant Bennett. You are..."

"Connor MacLeod."

"Too many MacLeods around lately. I... I am sorry for the death of your secretary. I'm here to talk to your relative."

"What is it, Bennett?" Duncan asked without much friendliness.

"I have a report involving you in the disappearance of the body of the gentleman's secretary."

"I have no idea. Please enlighten me." Duncan mocked.

"I received a report from the NYPD. It says that a certain Russell Nash escaped a police inspector, and you were with him."

"Nash was the former owner of the shop. I bought it but let him manage it."

"I see." Bennett checked a notebook. "I understand Miss Ellinstein was Nash's aunt. You think he might have taken the body?" The question was aimed at Duncan.

"It must have been a coincidence. I never met this guy."

"He didn't." Connor ratified.

"Fine then. I might return later. Good day, gentlemen."

Bennett left. Connor ran behind the cop. Duncan took a few moments to react before going after his clansman.

"Nothing." He overheard Connor saying, as Bennett did leave this time.

"Connor? What was it?"

"I told you Duncan, it's nothing." They returned inside. "Rachel can't stay here. She would be recognised eventually, and she can't live like a mope."

"What do you suggest?"

"Take her to Paris."

"Paris?"

"It is not just a getaway." Connor trudged heavily towards the sofa. "Sean Burns is there. He can help."

"I don't follow, Connor."

"Shortly after I found Rachel, she was closed in herself. She did not speak, and refused to eat. I took her to Sean, who treated her and cured her. She might be needing his help again."

"I see. But why would she need help?"

"To tell us who did it. I'm sure she knows."

"I will have to talk to Tessa."

"Fine."

"Will you come with us?"

"No... I have another place to go."

"Where?"

"Nowhere, Duncan."

"Connor..."

No reply.