Disclaimer: American Gothic characters and canon belong to Shaun Cassidy and Sam Raimi; plot and any original characters belong to me. No copyright infringement intended.

"The evil that men do lives after them."
– Mark Antony from William Shakespeare's "Julius Caesar"

Ronilyn swore as she spun around to see Lucas stroll out of the kitchen, munching on an apple.

"What the hell are..."

"Now that's a fine bit of language to be usin'," Lucas said, uncurling a finger from around the apple enough to shake it disapprovingly at her. "You talk like that around my boy?"

"Ah," she said with a nod, as the cat's hissing grew louder. "So that's the reason for this visit. I didn't think you came by to raid my refrigerator."

"But there's such tasty morsels in this house." He held out the piece of fruit. "Want some?"

"After you bit into it? I don't think so."

Lucas shrugged. "Suit yourself. I'm only lookin' out for your health. You know what they say, 'an apple a day keeps the doctor away'."

"If it kept the sheriff away, I'd eat the apple, core and all. Maybe even a worm too." Ronilyn folded her arms against her chest. "I know exactly how concerned you are about my health, so get to it. What do you want?"

"A great many things," he replied as Midnight leapt from the top of the TV to the arm of the sofa, closing the distance between them. "I suggest you call off your dogs, or cat, as the case may be," Lucas said, watching as the animal bared its teeth, its fur bristling.

"Why? Because she'd like to scratch your eyes out?" Ronilyn reached out and stroked the cat's head. "Come now. You should be used to females in Trinity having those feelings towards you."

"Speakin' of eyes," Lucas said, staring at the large cat. "I read about this lab experiment where these scientists take cats and implant..."

Ronilyn rushed him, slamming him against the living room wall with enough impact to knock the apple out of his hand.

"Touch that cat," Ronilyn stated, her green eyes glinting, "or any of my pets, and I'll implant that apple someplace where not even a team of scientists will be able to get it. You understand me?" she asked, shoving him against the wall for emphasis.

"Nicely phrased threat," Lucas praised her as he wrenched her hands free of his vest. "Very creative."

Ronilyn winced at the iron grip he had on her hands.

"Your only mistake was in lettin' that animal lovin' side of yourself show through. See, you revealed your weakness." He paused. "And now it can be exploited."

"Exploit at your own risk," she snapped. "You think I don't mean it?"

Lucas recognized the wild look in her eyes as one he had seen many years ago. She'd been younger than Caleb then, about eight or nine, and had gone into the woods as she did every hunting season in an attempt to save the animals. When it'd neared sunset one day and she hadn't returned home yet, Lucas and her father Nathan had gone in search of her...

"Noooo!"

Lucas recognized the scream of rage and ran its direction.

"Ronilyn..." His voice trailed off as he skidded to a halt behind a tree and saw her kneeling over a dead fawn, her hands red with blood.

"Hey!" a man shouted from several yards away. "Get away from that, girl! That's my kill!"

Lucas started to step into view when Ronilyn lifted her head and glared at the hunter through her tears. Suddenly, the man's rifle discharged and he crumpled to the ground, motionless. Lucas' eyes darted back to the little girl, who was now cradling the head of the baby deer in her lap...

The man's death had been considered a hunting accident due to the rifle misfiring. Now, knowing that Ronilyn was really his sister and shared his bloodline, Lucas wondered what he'd actually witnessed and just how deliberate her action had been.

Lucas loosened his hold on Ronilyn's hands. "No," he said, raising her hands up to his mouth and gently brushing his lips against them. "I know you mean what you say."

Ronilyn stared at him. For a moment he looked as he did after her father's death, comforting, caring. She blinked and yanked her hands away from him. "Alright, you're getting all weird on me and I don't like it," she told Lucas. "Caleb came over here today to play with the animals." From the back yard, a dog barked as if in confirmation. "And he liked it so much, he's going to come back in the evenings, provided he doesn't have a lot of homework to do. Do you know he never even had a pet growing up?!"

Lucas barely suppressed a smile at her outraged statement. "Well, that's a real tragedy, Ronilyn," he declared, knowing she actually thought it was. "But..."

"So don't even think about depriving him of it now," she said. "It was good for him. I think for awhile he might've even forgotten what was bothering him."

Lucas started. "What's botherin' him?" he repeated, recalling his son's sullen behavior that afternoon. "Did he tell you what's botherin' him?"

"No, but he's upset about something. It doesn't take a genius to figure that out." Ronilyn, hearing a cat scratch on the screen outside, walked over to the front door to let it in. "You're his father. Don't you know?"

Selena laid her teacher's planner and other school papers down on the kitchen table after school the following day and walked into her bedroom. She turned the television on, sat down on the bed and slipped off her pumps. As she rubbed her aching feet, Selena reflected that fashion decisions must be made by men who hate women. While her figure allowed her to fit easily into any of the stylish clothes, there was absolutely no way she could get used to walking around all day with her feet crammed into awkward and unnatural positions. In Selena's opinion, the only good side to high heels was that they could be jammed into someone's eye. And glancing up at the television screen, Selena found herself staring at an ideal candidate.

"Speakin' of men who hate women," Selena muttered as she turned up the volume.

"...to three incidents," Lucas Buck's voice said. "Now it's difficult to confirm this because these drugs affect the memory, which is why this fella has been gettin' away with it - 'til now. I'm personally goin' to see to it that this person is captured and justice is served."

"In the meantime," Lucas continued over the buzz of the media. "Caution is the key word here. Watch who's handlin' your drinks. And not just alcohol. This drug can be used in coffee, soda, punch, anything. If anyone knows anything or thinks they've been a victim, contact..."

Selena switched off the television. She turned and looked thoughtfully at her bed. There was that one evening not too long ago when, after a night drinking at Deke's and a few other bars along the way, she woke up at home, not remembering how she got there.

That wasn't too uncommon, she thought, folding her arms against her chest. However, she'd found her underwear and all her clothes strewn about the room and the other side of the bed rumpled, as if it had been occupied at some point during the night. That also wasn't very unusual. That she couldn't recall who had occupied it was what she found most unsettling.

After another long moment of staring at the bed, Selena walked abruptly into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

"Lucas?"

"Yeah, Ben," the sheriff answered, standing behind the counter watching the news media clear out of the station.

"I've been thinkin'," Ben started.

"Always a dangerous thing."

"Do you suppose Waylon Flood is behind all this?"

Lucas faced his deputy. "Now what makes you say that? Is he causin' trouble with your ex again?"

"No, no. He ain't laid a hand on her or my son."

"Glad to hear it." Lucas turned his attention back to the departing reporters.

"Well, it seems to me that the man that's doin' this doesn't like women. What he likes, is hurtin' 'em, and..."

"And since Waylon hurt his wife, you figure he could be rapin' these other women," Lucas finished for him. He shook his head and held up his hand to stop Ben from speaking. "Waylon Flood is a bully, I'll grant you, but" - he paused - "he just ain't smart enough to pull it off."

"Lucas..."

"No, now look, Ben, it's one thing to terrorize a woman in your own home. It's a whole different story to get a hold of these drugs, go out and find a woman, slip 'em to her in a drink, take her somewhere and rape her and go back home without anyone seein' you. There's too much risk involved in that, Ben. And Waylon Flood is too much of a coward to take that kind of risk."

Ben threw up his hands. "Well, then, where are we, Lucas?" he asked. "I'll tell you. Nowhere. We didn't find anything in the woods where Ronilyn found that girl. And even though we've got

that semen sample, we don't have anybody to match it against. Nothing's shown up on the computer yet." Ben ticked off the points on his fingers. "Nobody at Deke's saw anything suspicious that night. We checked out the known sex offenders in the area and they can all account for their whereabouts on the two nights we know about. Same thing goes for the veterinarian and his staff. So what's left?"

Lucas clapped him on the shoulder. "Givin' up so easy, Benny boy? That ain't like you. I'll tell you what's left to do." He pointed toward the door. "Find out who's new in town. Any strangers passin' through. Anyone visitin' from out of town. These rapes just started up and unless one of our fine citizens suddenly snapped, I'm bettin' there's a new face in town."

Ben snatched up his hat from the desk. "Alright, Lucas," he said, jamming it onto his head and heading toward the door. "I'll check out the hotels and boardinghouse first."

"Good idea," Lucas said, staring out the window overlooking the street. Suddenly, he stepped around the counter, strode over to the door, and yanked it open.

"Hey!" he shouted at the person who he'd seen hurrying past the station moments ago. "Hold up there!"

Ronilyn turned around. "What is it, Lucas?" she asked, waiting for him to catch up to her.

"See the press conference?"

She nodded. "Couldn't help it. The mayor had it on in his office. He's not real happy with this."

"Oh, ye of little faith. Tell him to give me a call if he's got a problem with how I'm handlin' it," Lucas said.

"Oh, yeah, that'll really calm him down," Ronilyn said with a laugh and rolled her eyes skyward. "I don't know if you're aware of this, Lucas," she said, placing a hand on his arm. "But sometimes your reassurances can appear downright threatening."

Lucas grinned. "Nice of you to say so, darlin'," he replied. "Now you go back and tell your boss that the situation is well in hand."

"Yeah, but in whose hand?" She scrutinized him, then nodded as if in confirmation. "You don't have any suspects, do you?"

Lucas' smile disappeared.

"I thought not," Ronilyn said. "Serial rapists aren't good for elected officials, you know." She started to walk away. "And as the duly elected sheriff, I'd keep that in mind if I were you."

"Well, you're not me." Lucas grabbed her arm and jerked her towards him. "And since we're offerin' up advice here, you keep in mind that warnin' I gave at that press conference. Watch yourself."

"I always do."

"No, I mean really watch yourself," he said. "Don't think you're invincible just 'cause you're my sister. You don't know enough yet. If this guy targets you, you won't know it until it's too late. All the self-defense classes in the world won't help you then."

Ronilyn's jaw dropped. "Are you serious?" she asked when her mouth started working properly. She stared at him. "You are, aren't you? Oh, my God, you're actually concerned about me!"

"I'm concerned about the safety of all the women in Trinity. Even the stubborn ones," Lucas added with a pointed look at her. "I ain't gonna allow this fella or anyone else to come into my town and do whatever they please." He turned his full gaze on her again. "Something else for you to keep in mind."

"What do you think, Caleb?" Boone asked, watching the other boy take a cautious sip of iced coffee in the Java Express.

Caleb swallowed, licked his lips and shrugged. "Tastes alright, I guess," he said, handing the cup back to Boone as they walked to the door. "Don't see what the big deal is, though."

"It's an acquired taste, boys," Horace said, smiling at them from behind the counter. "You'll probably like it more when you're older."

"Maybe." Caleb smiled back. "But I'd rather have a cherry cola or a root beer myself." He opened the door.

"Horace!" a shrill voice called from the back of the store. "Horace!"

The man sighed. "Comin', Ma."

"Hey, watch it, Caleb!" Boone warned as his friend stepped out onto the sidewalk and right into a man.

Caleb bounced against the man's vest, stumbled backward a few steps and looked up, past the sheriff's star, into his father's face.

"Well, hey there, son," Lucas said with a grin. "Where are you two off to in such a hurry?"

"Nowhere in particular," Boone replied.

"Anywhere you're not," Caleb muttered.

Lucas shot his son a glance, then noticed the coffee container. "Don't tell me the two of you have taken up coffee? Next thing I know you'll be buyin' cars and goin' out with girls." He laughed.

Caleb simply looked at him. "Are you done? Can we go now?"

Lucas frowned. "Well, Boone here is free to go, but you and I need to have a little talk."

"It's near suppertime," Boone said, looking back and forth between the other two. "Caleb, I'm gonna head home now."

"See you tomorrow, Boone," Caleb called after the other boy as he ran off.

"Alright, what's on your mind?" Lucas asked, watching Caleb's face closely.

The boy scowled at him. "You want to know what's on my mind? I'm thinkin' that you ain't gonna find the man that's hurtin' these women 'cause you're just like him! Maybe you're even the one doin' it!"

Lucas' eyes widened. "What..."

"I know what you done to my mama," Caleb said, his eyes burning with anger. "I seen it!"

"What are you talkin' about? Just what is it you think I've done? And how could you have seen anything? Your mama killed herself after you were born."

Caleb recoiled as if he'd been struck. "I know what I saw is true," he stated, believing in his heart that Merly would never lie to him. "You hurt my mama and I don't ever want to see you again!"

Lucas regarded the boy. "Well, I'm afraid you don't have much choice in the matter, son..."

"I told you never to call me that!"

Lucas shrugged. "Can't change the way things are. It's your birthright, Caleb."

"To be like you?" Caleb shook his head vigorously and backed away. "I'd rather be dead." He turned and fled.

"Can I get something for you, Sheriff?" Horace asked, leaning out the door of the Java Express.

"Yeah," Lucas said, watching his son run away from him. "How about a cup of respect to go?" He turned toward Horace. "And a couple of lumps of sugar - none of that artificial stuff."

"What's troublin' you, Caleb?" Loris Holt asked the boy as he prepared for bed that night. "You hardly touched your supper and you didn't even go over to Ronilyn's house to see her pets."

Caleb turned away from the sink in his room. "Miss Holt, what makes a man rape sombody?"

Taken aback by this question, Loris scrutinized the boy's face. "Whyever would you ask that, Caleb?" She recalled Caleb being mighty interested when Ben Healy came to the boardinghouse earlier that evening to question her new boarder, Sam Richardson. "Have you been hearin' things about that man who's been attackin' women?"

The boy nodded. "What kind of a man does that?"

"Well, that's a hard question, Caleb." Loris sat down on his bed. "There's all sorts of answers to that. You could say it's a man who doesn't know right from wrong or you could say it's a man who knows perfectly well the difference between right and wrong and just doesn't care. It's power."

"Power?"

Loris nodded. "To be able to force himself, his will, upon someone. Complete control."

Caleb frowned. "A man who hurts women like that, he's evil, ain't he?"

"A man can commit an evil act, but not necessarily be evil himself because of that. There are all sorts of degrees of evil, all sorts of forms. Caleb, why are you askin' me these things?"

"Do you think a person's born evil like that?" Caleb asked. "I mean, do you think it runs in the family?"