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"Chris, we need to talk," Buck said softly while closely watching the rest of the group.
"What's up?" Chris frowned, catching the undercurrents in Buck's tone.
"We've got trouble," Buck growled, indicating a section of one of the ropes.
"It's been cut," Chris snarled.
"Your rope, Pard. You might have been in big trouble if it hadn't got wrapped around the banister," Buck revealed.
"Everybody was in groups," Chris scowled. "So who cut it?"
"Couldn't have been Standish, Jackson, or Babcock, since they found Vin back here. They wouldn't have had time. I know it wasn't JD or Casey since they were with me and the rope was fine when we left," Buck said thoughtfully.
"Wouldn't have taken that long to cut a rope," Chris reminded shortly. "But I don't think they'd cover for each other. Mary and Nettie were with me. Sanchez strikes me as a straight shooter. He'd be more likely to rip my head off than to do something . . . sneaky. Angel and Tony were with the preacher."
Buck sighed and looked across the room where Ivy and Cedric appeared to be deep in conversation with the still obviously pouting Sydney Crooks. "I hate to point fingers, but anyone of those three had plenty of opportunity and a certain amount of grudge,"
"Yeah they did. Thing is, who were they after?" Chris wondered aloud.
"Why you of course . . . Why'd they be after Mary? She's the one bankrolling this shebang, and Nettie, that sweet lady, hasn't done nothin' to get someone gunning for her," Buck protested.
"Doesn't take much sometimes. Somehow, I think Tanner's important to this whole damn mess, and Nettie isn't going to let anyone use that boy." Chris shivered, "We left someone out Buck."
"Who's that?" Buck demanded.
"The house," Chris hissed.
"Wouldn't it just have tried to trap you, like it did earlier?" Buck asked shakily.
"I think it lost a lot of strength building that wall," Chris mused thoughtfully.
"The house lost a lot of focus when Professor Crooks didn't die," Josiah interrupted as he joined the pair.
"Preacher?" Both men scowled at the other man.
"I think Ivy is performing blood magic. Chris was supposed to be sacrificed. When he wouldn't bed her, she settled for Crooks. Blood and sex, very powerful focuses. When we freed the professor, her ritual was broken and the power lost," Josiah said emotionlessly. "She's trying to feed something . . . something evil."
"Like charging a battery?" Buck scowled.
"Like charging a battery," Josiah agreed. "It was hurt when the ritual wasn't finished."
"How do we know you weren't behind this?" Chris demanded.
"Because, I'd have made sure you didn't come back," Josiah smiled widely. "Vin and Chris are the only ones that aren't in danger yet."
"What? You just said Chris was supposed to be a sacrifice." Buck snapped.
"Ivy's choice. The house put up the wall to keep Chris away. It wants Chris for itself," Josiah explained.
"Why is Vin safe?" Chris asked sharply.
"Because he's the real power source." Josiah hesitated before continuing. "Chris acts like . . . jumper cables somehow."
"Why didn't Ivy go after Vin?" Buck demanded.
"She didn't realize it then," Josiah said softly.
"Junior is in danger!" Buck scowled.
"No, Ivy is," Josiah said sadly. "The house won't let her interfere with its plans, and Vin is necessary to those plans."
"Well hell," Buck muttered.
A cut off scream followed by "DAMMIT! . . . "Now what?" . . . Voices rose as the group was plunged into darkness . . . . "Who turned out the lights?" . . . "We must have blown a fuse or something."
An agitated banging could be heard somewhere in the building. Everyone blinked in the sudden light as Nettie turned on a battery lamp.
"Well, go answer the door," she ordered in exasperation.
Chris, Josiah and Buck exchanged sheepish looks, lowering the flashlights they had found in the dark and were brandishing like clubs. Handing Josiah one end of the rope, Chris and Buck turned on the flashlights then headed for the back of the house where the noise seemed to be coming from. Buck yelped and jumped when he caught a glimpse of the grotesque image pressed against the glass. Larabee jerked open the door, causing a rotund little man to fall to the floor.
"Who the hell are you?" Chris snarled.
"Mr. Larabee, isn't it? Hi, my name is Jock Steel and I work for Inquiring Minds." The little man introduced himself and shoved a dirt covered hand toward Chris who pointedly ignored the offer to shake. Unaffected by the snub, the reporter wiped his hands on his ripped and dirty pants before continuing, "May I please use your phone? I need to call the police….. The septic tank ate your lawyer."
"I don't have a lawyer," Chris answered carefully. He exchanged a look with Buck. Buck nodded and twirled his index finger in a circle at his temple. Buck's right, this fella is nuts.
"Of course you don't have a lawyer. I told you, the septic tank ate him." Jock got to his feet, straightening his tattered clothing. "Do you think this is poison ivy?" Jock held out his hands, showing them the rash, which seemed to be covering all his exposed skin.
"I don't think so," Buck muttered, making certain not to brush against the weeping skin.
"The septic tank ate Mr. Fowler. I don't think he agreed with it though, it seemed to have a bad case of flatulence afterwards," Jock said earnestly.
"Fowler? Cletus Fowler?" Chris demanded in surprise.
"That's what he said his name was," Jock agreed.
"What a shitty way to go," Buck snorted, pointedly ignoring the glare Chris sent his way at the comment. "Come on, Jock. Let's get you to a phone. I just can't wait to hear this police report. We can get Nathan to look at that rash while we're at it." Buck led the way out of the kitchen followed by Jock and Chris.
The septic tank ate him? Chris followed shaking his head in disbelief.
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"Who's he?" JD asked as soon as he spotted the stranger.
"He's our gate crasher," Buck snorted. "Hey, Doc, you want to look him over? He picked up some kind of rash out in the garden."
Nathan slipped on a pair of gloves before examining Jock's rather splotchy skin. "Looks like a simple contact allergy. I'm sure it's making you miserable. I've got some antihistamine that should help. Sorry, but I don't have any ointment," Nathan said.
"Thank you, Dr. Jackson," Steele sighed. "I did not 'crash' the gate I simply anticipated your arrival. My name is Jock Steele, I'm a reporter for Inquiring Minds. Excuse me, but I still need to report Mr. Fowler's ingestion," Jock reminded.
"Your companion's been poisoned?" Nathan demanded sharply, looking for a second stranger.
"Oh No! I'm alone . . . well I am now at least. Mr. Larabee's lawyer was eaten by the septic tank. I need to call the police and report it," Jock said earnestly once more.
"Oh Crap!" JD blurted, much to Buck's amusement and earning him a glare from the man in black.
"Here," Bruce handed Steele the portable phone.
"No dial tone," Jock muttered.
"Portables don't work when the electric is out, son," Josiah reminded gently.
"Oh yeah. That's right," Bruce looked sheepish.
Buck picked up the handset of the old rotary and listened for a dial tone. "Here," he held out the handset to Jock.
"Where's the buttons?" JD asked curiously, coming over to study the base of the phone.
"No buttons, kid. You put your finger in the hole over a number and rotate the dial till you get to this metal dohickey. Take your finger out and let it rotate back. Then go on to the next number," Buck instructed.
"Neat." JD and Bruce moved over to study the dial in fascination.
"Feeling old, Grandpa?" Josiah smirked at the flummoxed Wilmington.
"Positively ancient," Buck grunted.
JD very carefully dialed 911. Holding the headset to his ear he waited impatiently for the call to go through. "Here." He held the phone out to Jock.
"Hello, my name is Jock Steele and I want to report a death . . . . At least I think Mr. Fowler's dead . . . . The septic tank ate him . . . . No, I haven't been drinking . . . . Mr. Fowler was Mr. Larabee's lawyer . . . . That's not very professional of you . . . . Yes, he was a lawyer . . . . Out at Pet . . . . The phone went dead." Jock held out the handset.
Mary Travis pulled out her cell phone. "No signal." She scowled.
"Come on. We'll take you to your car," Chris sighed, picking up a rope and a flashlight. Buck nodded, grabbing up a second rope and another flashlight.
Tying his rope to one of the pool table's legs, Chris started out the door, playing out rope as he went. "Here." Buck handed the reporter a flashlight and herded Jock out of the room after Chris.
"A real fruitcake," Cedric sniffed as the men disappeared into the maw of the house.
Josiah sat down where he could keep a close eye on the rope and simply watched the diverse group. Mary Travis was once more idly stroking Vin's hair, much the way a person strokes a pet cat.
Vin seemed totally unaware of Mary's touch as he rocked and hummed a new tune faintly while taking turns petting first Pony then the metal dragon.
Nettie's concerned eyes lingered on her chicks as she checked on the young people. Her brood had now grown to include Bruce, Tony and Angel. They were unrolling their sleeping bags, close to hers, in front of the fire. Her maternal gaze moved to check on JD as he fiddled with the old phone.
"She's in control and they don't even know it. Boys on the right, girls on the left, and Nettie'll be smack dab in the middle as the chaperon," Nathan sniggered as he watched the bedtime preparations.
"Are you planning to challenge the Alpha female?" Josiah asked curiously.
"Not on your life. What do you want to bet that Chris sleeps in front of the door?" Nathan asked.
"I would not wager against that eventuality. Mr. Larabee was quite . . . distressed at our lost lamb's straying from the fold." Ezra Standish settled into a comfortable chair next to the two men.
"Were we ever that young? Look at JD. He's still fascinated with that old phone," Nathan chuckled.
JD was frowning as he made a thorough inspection of the rotary phone. "Hey, guys. How does this thing work? It's not plugged in anywhere!" JD called over.
"It's wired into the phone lines, JD," Josiah answered.
"No, it's not," JD responded, holding up the end of the cord.
"Did you pull it out of the wall?" Nathan stood up and walked over.
"Of course not," JD huffed.
"Then it couldn't have worked," Josiah admitted.
"But I heard a dial tone," JD protested.
"I'm sure you did, son," Josiah soothed.
"The house!" JD hissed, his eyes widening. "Do you think we need to check on Chris and Buck?"
"Our compatriots are returning even as we speak. I fear however, their disposition has taken a turn for the worse." From his position near the door, Ezra could hear the footsteps and angry mutterings of the returning men.
Chris' eyes were filled with rage when he stormed into the game room, Buck and Jock following closely on his heels.
"What's wrong? I thought you were taking him to his car." Mary indicated Jock, with a disgusted look on her face.
"Can't get out," Chris snapped.
"The door was stuck?" Bruce asked faintly.
"Sealed tight as hell," Buck huffed worriedly.
"So use a different door . . . duh!" Cedric spoke to them as if dealing with the mentally deficient.
"The . . . doors . . . won't . . . open," Buck responded in the same manner.
"So break a window already. It's not like you can't afford one," Cedric sniffed.
Chris wordlessly picked up a heavy brass table lamp and walked to the French doors at the far side of the room drawing back the curtains. Swinging as hard as he could, he slammed the lamp into the glass. The lamp broke, leaving the door unmarked.
"Already tried that," Buck grunted, flopping down into a chair.