

### The Oaks

Patrick M. Brown

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2008 Patrick Brown

All Rights Reserved

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Preface

In nature we find communion with our creator, the creator of all things. I think I always knew this in the deep recesses of my mind, but only now, later in life has it become apparent to me. Alone on the river as the sun is rising on a warm summer morning, the reflections of the rays dancing across the water, an occasional fish breaking the surface, the sounds of shorebirds and gulls calling gently in the distance as the day begins. I can't imagine heaven being any more peaceful or beautiful than this.

Dedication

This book is dedicated to all of the individuals throughout my life that in one way or another contributed to its content, but especially to my wife

Michelle.

The Oaks Club is a restaurant on the town of Oxford's water's edge that caters to the upscale crowd that tends to inhabit Maryland's eastern shore of the Chesapeake Bay during the summer; a place where a hamburger costs ten dollars and the upscale patrons throw back single malt scotch and slap each other on the back. Where the "good ole boys" while away their Saturday Afternoons in lounge chairs at the water's edge, or discuss the day's trades over bourbon and martinis.

The Oaks has an outdoor bar as well as the one inside. The inside bar itself is thick heavily varnished oak that runs half the length of the room, polished brass rails adorn the edge and thirteen high wood tap handles to draw imported beer stand as tall guardians over a wall of mirrors behind a congregation of bar glasses waiting like soldiers on glass shelves to be filled with your favorite potion. The outside bar is a Tiki Hut motif, glasses hanging from the ceiling; one can hear the hum of blenders making daiquiris and margaritas all summer long. The view is of the Tred Avon River and the mansions that line her shores. Just outside the restaurant is the boat dock, where sit the prestigious crafts of the patron's and some locals. There sit everything from fourteen foot Whalers to sixty-foot cabin cruisers and motor yachts, an impressive gathering of nautical status symbols.

One of the good ole boys that spends his time at the Oaks is Doug Carlson. Doug is, to use the term loosely, an investor, although he's not a very good one. He manages to make a hit here and there but puts less effort and study into his investment choices than a day trader with a hashish habit. He's much more lucky than good. Doug has been lucky in other ways too. He lives primarily off of a trust given to him by his father. This affords Doug the lifestyle to which he has become accustomed. Being an only child born to a wealthy man, Doug was the apple of his father's eye, and as such, his upbringing was much as you might think. Raised by nannies and servants, he was more than a bit spoiled. His father being a more practical man tried his best to instill in Doug a sense of value and responsibility, but he found it a difficult task.

Doug found ways of entertaining himself when he was a boy and was raised mostly by the people who worked taking care of his father's house and property. He was used to getting his way and became quite astute at manipulating the people in his life. Doug could be a sort of brat when he was younger, but he learned to curtail his emotions as he grew older, but every once in a while, even now, the brat in Doug would still come out. Doug grew into a handsome young man. He's tall, around six feet; bright blonde hair that he keeps combed straight back and pale blue eyes. He is a little too thin for his height, but presents a lean rather than skinny look. Doug is popular with the ladies to, at least until they get to know him. His glib demeanor and charm is disarming but it doesn't take long for most to see through the facade to the real Doug Carlson beneath.

Doug would hang out at the Oaks with his best friend and college roommate Skip Patterson. Skip's upbringing was different than Doug's. Skip came from what you might call an upper middle class family. Skip's was what most would consider a "normal" family. Normal in the sense that there was a mother and a father, a car in the garage, and a faithful canine companion at his father's feet as he read the paper on Sunday mornings. Skip was also raised in relative comfort but Skip's attitude was different than Doug's. Sure, he had everything he needed and most things he wanted, but he learned the value of hard work and understood the contributions and salience of his fellow man.

Together Skip and Doug were a pair of ace's, young and attractive, athletic and smart. To look at them or meet them for the first time you would think they were the original all Americans. Skip was as handsome as his pal Doug, but in a different way. Skip wasn't quite as tall as Doug around five foot ten. Skip had dark hair, which accented his light brown eyes. His longish hair tended to fall over his right eye and he had a habit of always brushing it away from his face with the back of his hand. Skip had a more rugged look than Doug. He was heavier with a more muscular build. He didn't look like a weightlifter, but you could see he was no stranger to the gym. Doug was not the only person Skip met in college, he also met lacey, his fiancé. Skip adored Lacey but marriage and family weren't the foremost things on his mind at the moment. You see Skip and Doug were in the middle of a big deal. They were considering going into business together.

The Oaks is owned and operated by Harry Sheehan, a Bostoner who fell in love with the charming little riverside town of Oxford while vacationing there. Harry is second generation Irish. He is short and stout with a big barrel chest and a belly to go with it. He is a little moody though; you never know what you might get with Harry. He can be very jovial, but he can be very cantankerous at times. Harry has a full head of mostly grey hair that used to be a dark chestnut red, and it grows in every direction. His bushy eyebrows are much the same growing willy nilly with some long thick curly hairs bunched in towards the center. When his blood is up as a result of anger or a good belly laugh his face brightens as red as Saint Nick's coat. Harry's health isn't the best though as a result of his temper, his blood pressure and his fondness for scotch. His doctor has advised him to take it easy, and that's just what Harry thinks he wants to do.

When Harry bought the Oaks it wasn't much more than a little tavern. The now main building is attached to the original tavern, which is an old stone building. The original stone building was once a three-story colonial style farmhouse, which was turned into a tavern in the latter half of the eighteenth century. It is rich with history. It had served as a hiding place for runaway slaves on their way north to freedom; it also served many a smuggler and spy who used the rivers and inlets of the Chesapeake Bay to avoid detection or capture. During the Civil war divided loyalties erupted one night in the old tavern and the resulting brawl left a union sympathizer and a young servant girl dead.

When Harry bought the Oaks in 1972 he had bigger plans. He didn't want to loose the charm of the old stone structure and he didn't want to change the original atmosphere of the place, but he did want to upgrade. As time went on he was able to add the larger modern bar, than the Tiki bar outside, and as boaters began to show up at his small dock he had to expand it to what it is today, two long docks with enough slips to accommodate 60 boats and a long dock at the end of the pier that can handle a 120 foot yacht. He left the original stone structure to serve as the restaurant. The old building and large hearth add a great deal of character to the place; it's an inviting dinner spot for locals during the slow winter months. He kept the inside of the restaurant the original brick, painted white and decorated it with colonial paintings. Scenes of redcoats embroiled in battle with colonists, landscapes, and period portraits hang throughout. A large Swaine seascape is hung over the fireplace. Harry had painstakingly poured himself into his work and his little corner of the world. To him there was no better place on earth.

"Lets face it Harry, it's a nice place, upscale and popular, but it's still just a tavern," said Doug.

"Young man, I've put my life's blood into making this place what it is today. I won't see it turned into a cheap corner bar!" barks Harry.

"Now Harry, I wouldn't want to change a thing. Why mess with perfection? What I want to do is expand! Picture this! Out back, just beyond the storehouse, a Hotel! And I'm not talking about a Motel 6 here Harry, Three stories; the first floor would house the reception area, a ballroom, meeting facilities etc. The second floor would have fifty rooms, nice rooms, each with a sitting area separate from the sleep area, work areas with high speed Internet access, tastefully decorated and wallpapered. The third floor, suites, solely for the use of our most influential and affluent guests; and priced accordingly"

"And where would you get the capital for all of this Doug, your father I suppose? How does he play into all this?"

"I haven't even discussed this with him Harry. Besides, I have a partner."

"Who," asked Harry?

"Skip Patterson wants to go in with me."

"Well Skip's a fine fellow, but I think you may be biting off a bit more than you can chew here son. Running a saloon is one thing, what you're considering would take millions of dollars, a staff of waiters and cooks and housekeepers, bookkeepers and accountants. There's a lot to consider".

"Well like you said before Harry, I have my father to help me along. Look, you've been talking about retiring for a couple of years now. Don't you think it's about time you started to relax a little? I mean, who needs these headaches, right?"

"Well, your right about that. I would like to enjoy life a little more now, while I still have some left!"

"Harry, I don't expect to do all of this over night. Think about what this place was when you bought it and what it is now. We'll make changes gradually as we're able the same way you did. Think of a price Harry, I'm sure we can get together on this thing"

"I'll do that Doug, but I want you to understand this, you get more than meets the eye with this place," said Harry.

"Are you kidding me Harry? You don't actually buy into the stories about this place do you? Ha ha ha!! C'mon Harry".

"Well kid, where there's smoke there's fire and I've seen some weird things over the years."

Doug left the Oaks and headed over to Skip's to tell him about the conversation he had with Harry. Doug's mind was spinning with ideas about the Oaks. More especially what the hotel would be like. Doug had high hopes for the hotel, but he didn't have the funds to get it started. Between him and Skip they barely had the money to buy the Oaks as it was, and they were going to have to go into debt for a good portion of that. Doug pictured the posh hotel in his mind's eye: A grand white building with Lanais running the along the front, a slate roof, circular driveway leading up to the front door where uniformed valets would take the guest's luggage and park their cars. He imagined celebrities, politicians, and important business people showing up at his hotel to hold high power meetings, put on lavish balls or just relax and enjoy a week or two by the river.

Doug calls Skip on his cell.

"Skipper, I'm out in front of your place. C'mon down". Skip comes down and gets into Doug's car.

"What's up Doug?"

"I just met with Harry and asked him about us buying the Oaks."

"What did he say?"

"He's on the fence. Doesn't think we can handle it. But I think he'll come around. In fact he agreed to think about a price."

"It's a start. Gee Doug, I know we talked about this but I really didn't think it was going to happen."

"Your not getting cold feet on me are you? I need you in on this thing with me. I can't do it alone."

"Don't worry about me," said Skip. "I'm in all the way".

"Good let's head into Easton and have a drink to celebrate" said Doug.

"Don't you want to go over to the Oaks?" asked Skip.

"Not this time. I want to be able to have a drink to celebrate the future without actually thinking about it".

"Ok by me Doug, let's go".

Meanwhile, back at the Oaks the night was just beginning. The bar was getting busy, guests were arriving for dinner, and Harry, looking out over the crowd, was contemplating what life would be like after he retired. As much as he loved his business and his customers he was ready to take some time and relax. He thought to himself tonight I'll just sit back and see what happens. Harry fixed himself a scotch and water and leaned back against the bar. He looked around the room. A gathering of young couples laughed playfully enjoying each other's company with a few cocktails at the end of the bar, some boaters coming in for cold beers after a hot day on the water gathered at a table by the window, some of the local regulars had stopped in for drinks and the company of their friends and neighbors. Harry looked the other way now over his left shoulder. Down the hallway, through the darkness, leading to the dining room and the old building, he could just see some of the diners sitting at the tables in the red hues of the candlelight, sipping cocktails and patiently waiting for what they knew would be a fine dinner. The Oaks had a reputation amongst the locals and frequent visitors to the area as having some of the best crab dishes in Talbout County. Crab cakes, Crab Chellew, and Red Crab Soup. Steamed crabs and sweet corn on the cob, always a favorite, were available in the bar. Harry spent the evening mingling with his guests, as he often would. He left the diners in the restaurant to their meals but he would flit around the bar like a politician, shaking hands and exchanging niceties with everyone he knew and even some he didn't. You couldn't spend much time in Oxford and not get to meet Harry, and you couldn't spend an hour in his bar and not have him stop to greet you. As the crowd began to thin out later in the evening Harry leaned back against the bar and couldn't help but think to himself "Why would anyone want to change this?" But Doug had other things in mind.

Doug knew that he was fighting an uphill battle. Harry wasn't as ready to sell and retire as he might sometimes let on and Skip was not as gung ho about building a hotel in the grand style that Doug had planned. Skip was under the impression that they were going to take it slow and Doug let him go on believing that.

"Good morning Harry," said Doug enthusiastically as he entered the Oaks the next morning.

"Hi Doug," replied Harry.

"Look Doug, I don't think I'm quite ready to hang up my apron just yet. I have to admit that I still feel quite an attachment to the old place."

"Harry if you don't retire soon you may not be able to retire at all. Now I'm willing to make you an offer of"

"No," Interrupted Harry! My minds made up; at least for the time being. Give me another couple of years Doug and I may reconsider, but for now I can't imagine not having this place to come to every day. "

"A couple of years! But Harry, you haven't even heard my offer."

"And I don't need to! It's not about the money young man. When you get to be my age you'll understand that there are more important things in life than money. This place has become a part of me. It defines who I am. Not to mention the fact that I've spent a number of years turning it into what it is today. I'm simply not able to just walk away, at least not yet."

"Harry, be reasonable. You've said yourself that it takes too much out of you and that you want to do other things."

"My mind's made up!"

Doug was speechless, he went away disgruntled; his dream of owning an upscale hotel seemingly crushed, and Doug wasn't the sort to wait around for something he wanted.

Doug called Skip on his cell. "Skip, I talked to Harry; he's still undecided."

"Well there's no great big hurry Doug," said Skip. "The Oaks isn't going anywhere while Harry makes up his mind. Did you present him our offer?...............Doug?"

"Skip, I'm having trouble hearing you. I think my connection must be bad. I'll talk to you later."

"This is a fucking disaster. A couple of years! Is he nuts? I can't sit around and wait a couple of years for this old fart to change his mind. I knew he would be a tough sell but shit! How can I get Harry to change his mind?" Doug thought to himself.

Meanwhile, Skip breathed a little sigh of relief. Although he was excited about the prospect of owning his own business he was concerned about Doug's grandiose ideas and how he was going to be able to keep him grounded. He was also concerned with going into debt with Doug. Although he considered Doug to be his closest and most trusted friend he knew Doug could be a little irresponsible and venturesome. Skip saw the renovation and addition of the hotel as a gradual process, whereas Doug was ready to break ground tomorrow if he could. Skip saw this delay as an opportunity to try and talk some sense into Doug and maybe slow him down a bit.

"Hello"

"Hello, Lacey"

"Hi Skip honey"

"I just got off the phone with Doug and Harry still hasn't made a decision about selling."

"That's too bad," said Lacey.

"Not really," said Skip. "This will give me some time to talk to Doug and maybe get him to settle down a bit. You know how he is, once he gets an idea in his head it's hard to change his mind." Lacey was all too familiar with Doug's tenacity. Once while they were all still in College, and as of yet unbenounced to Skip, Lacey and Doug had what you might call a one night stand. As with many of the women Doug met he was very charming with Lacey at first, but that all changed in very short order. She reflected back on that night. She had gone to a party with some of her friends at the vacation home one of their parents in Ocean City. As with many college age kids there was a great deal of drinking and partying going on. That's where Lacey met Doug. Doug turned on the charm and never let Lacey's glass stay empty long. It was a strategy he had employed many times before. He was an expert at learning about people. He asked Lacey about her likes and dislikes. He found out what turned her on and pretended to be her perfect match. Doug painted a picture of perfection of himself before her very eyes. And the illusion that he created was that of what a perfect relationship she would have with him. He weaved little lies into his conversation and manipulated her through her own words. The alcohol he kept feeding her was just the right catalyst to get her to open up to him. And the more she talked the easier it became for him. With her own words she provided him everything he needed to accomplish his goal. He was smooth as glass and he seemed to turn a lifetime into a day. So when he asked her to go for a walk out to the boathouse she didn't find anything strange in it. "Let's go inside and see the new boat Amy's parents bought," Doug said. Lacey followed him into the boathouse. "Climb aboard Lacey," said Doug.

"It's a beautiful boat," said Lacey. "Do you really think its ok for us to be out here while everyone else is inside?"

"Sure", said Doug "Besides, who's going to know we're here?" and that's just what Doug wanted.

"What kind of boat is it Doug?"

"It's a Bertram. Look they have a mini bar. C'mon down and I'll fix you a drink"

"I don't know? I feel a little funny being here."

"C'mon" Doug said giving her a shy little smile as he a little more than gently pulled her down into the cabin.

"Hey, take it easy. I'll come down for a drink, but then we have to get back."

"Ok" said Doug.

Lacey nestled comfortably into the corner of the sofa that wrapped around the interior of the boat. Doug sat down next to her and handed her a drink. He slipped his arm around her shoulder and moved in for a kiss, which she took in deeply. They continued to kiss, long and deep. She could feel his hot breath on her neck and she could smell the alcohol on his lips. He moved in over her and she pushed back saying,

"No Doug, we just met." But Doug pressed up against her running his hand up her thigh and pushing her short skirt up.

He turned her on but she always respected herself. She tried to push him away but he was too heavy. She pleaded with him now in a small voice to stop, but it was too late. Doug ripped her panties to one side and with the dexterity of a wrestler in one move reached behind her hips and pulled her towards him. She gasped as he entered her. She knew it was wrong. She felt him hot and hard thrusting and grinding her. She continued to try and fight and squirm away, but the more she moved the harder he held her in place. She couldn't help being turned on all the while knowing it was wrong. She could feel herself giving in and beginning to feel the heat of passion. She felt like a dirty slut and steamy hot all at the same time. Her emotions where conflicting with her conscience. But her guard was down and finally she said to herself, what the hell and gave in completely. Doug could feel that she had stopped struggling and he loosened his grip on her body. He continued to thrust deeper now and grind away at her with his pelvis. Lacey pushed back and moaned as she felt the waves of pleasure rippling through her body. They continued and the session grew hotter and faster, Lacey was meeting every thrust now with her own, she bit down hard on her lip as the orgasm rushed over her skin and finally he let loose and moaned loudly as he climaxed.

The next day Lacey wasn't quite sure how it happened. She kept asking herself: Did I lead him on? Was this my fault? She replayed the events of the night in her head, at least what she could remember. Everything was so fuzzy and clouded! She felt frustrated and violated, not only by Doug but also by herself. "How could I let something like this happen?" She felt alone and empty. She didn't even know his last name. She had no way of contacting him. He must just think I'm such a slut! She said.

Doug, on the other hand, knew exactly what he had done. For him things went according to plan. He had no intention of ever seeing her again or of her ever finding out who he was. He had made the perfect getaway and he couldn't help but smile to himself.

They didn't see each other again until Skip introduced her to Doug a few months later. "Doug, this is the girl I was telling you about. I'd like you to meet Lacey." Lacey's heart dropped as she saw Doug again for the first time since that night in the boathouse. By this time her thoughts had cleared and she knew what he had done. Doug played it cool. He introduced himself as though they had never met. But she could see in his eyes that he remembered her. "I'm going to get a drink. You guys want?" said Skip. "That would be great" said Lacey.

"Sure bud" said Doug.

"How have you been Lacey?" said Doug.

"Fine; this is a bit awkward to say the least".

"Look, Skip's my best friend and I don't want to say anything that might hurt him. So I think the best thing we can do is just forget about what happened. From what he's told me he thinks the world of you and he doesn't need to know how you really are"

Fury was building inside Lacey, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of letting him see it.

"You're a bastard." She said calmly.

"I know." Doug said glibly.

Lacey had to think fast. She hated the idea of lying to Skip or hiding anything from him. It wasn't her. She was a good and honest person, but Doug had put her in a tough spot and she had to think fast.

"Ok, let just forget about it. It was a mistake," said Lacey

Now Lacey thinks keeping it from Skip all this time has been a mistake. She hates having this thing hanging over her head, but it's too late to tell him now.

As is becoming his habit of late, Harry is still hanging around the Oaks after closing time reminiscing. Harry walks around the outside of the building. He can hear the water softly splashing the shore. He watches the moonlight reflecting on the water, and the silhouettes of the boats moored just a few yards off shore all create a such a peaceful setting that Harry wanders down to one of the lounge chairs near the beach and lays back to take it all in. Soon Harry drifts off to sleep. The rays of the next morning's sun through the trees disturb Harry's sleep. When he wakes he realizes that he had been out there all night. He squints hard at the sun shining in his eyes and sits up. He throws off the blanket covering him and suddenly realizes that it wasn't there when he dozed off. He knows he didn't bring it with him. "That's odd? A Good Samaritan must have come by during the night and covered me up while I was sleeping. Maybe Bill came back for something?" Harry walks back up to the restaurant where the bartender, Bill, has come in to get things ready for the upcoming day.

"Was it you that covered me up out there Bill?" he asks.

"Don't know what you're talking about Harry."

"Well it seems I dozed off out on one of the chaise lounges last night and someone was good enough to lay a blanket across me while I was sleeping. Good thing too, it got a little chilly out there. I might have caught my death. Bill, if someone happens by to retrieve their blanket could you make sure they get it back with my thanks?"

"Sure Harry, toss me the blanket and I'll set in the back in case someone comes looking for it."

"Here you go Bill"

"That's funny," said Bill. "This is the old blanket that's been laying up in the closet for I don't know how long"

"Can't be," said Harry. "I was the only one here last night and the place was locked up tighter than a drum, alarm turned on and everything has to be a different blanket."

"I don't think so, I'd recognize it anywhere. It's an old wool blanket and an odd shade of red with a sort of sun burst design in the center. Not something you'd pick up at Wal Mart." Bill opened the closet door where the blanket usually was and there was an obvious vacancy. "See Harry, this is where it usually is. I think you may have had a visit from our illusive friend last night."

"Bahh! You're giving me the willies. I'm going home to get cleaned up. I'll be by later."

"Ok Harry, see you later. If your benevolent friend comes by I'll be sure to thank her for you."

Harry tried to shake off the implication that Bill had made but it wasn't the first time strange things had happened at the Oaks. Decorations rearranged a fire in the hearth that no one remembers lighting, odd sounds and slight glimpses of someone just out of the corner of the eye. Never any harm done but there was always the sense of another presence, an obvious female presence that took pride in the Oak's appearance and was always on the lookout for things out of place, or there to add that touch of beauty and class that Harry and Bill sometimes missed, a woman's touch. Table settings would arrange themselves or a bouquet of flowers that no one picked would appear in a vase on a table that no one placed there.

Harry often wondered who the spirit was and why she was so attached to the place. The stone building was very old and it had a number of owners and frequent guests. It could have been any one of them. Harry didn't worry about it too much. She hadn't frightened anyone away and she certainly wasn't there to harm anyone, so he thought, "Why should it bother me?" But it did, just a little. No matter how benevolent, the possibility of a ghost hanging around was still just a bit unsettling.

So Harry was making his way home, which was just a short walk from the Oak's up Tilghman Street and around the corner to his little house on Morris Street. It was a beautiful summer morning and Harry was enjoying the fresh air lightly blowing in off the Tred Avon River. The trees were full of green leaves, birds were chirping, flowers blooming in the finely kept gardens of the houses along Morris Street. Beautiful cape cods and colonials line the street, some with white picket fences or stylish wrought iron surrounding the manicured lawns and picturesque landscaping of the old homes. It was a Normal Rockwell painting come to life. Harry was enjoying the morning so much that he decided to head down to the docks instead of going straight home. At the end of Morris Street is the ferry dock that takes travelers across the river to the little village of Bellevue. The ferry shortens the trip for those going to St. Michaels or Tilghman Island. Harry looked out over the water to see the commercial crab boats running their trotlines out in the river; pleasure boaters zipping to and fro on motor boats, or sail boats lumbering by. There was never a shortage of boats on the water this time year. But with all this activity his little town of Oxford managed to stay fairly quiet. Sure there were a few tourists that frequented the little antique shops or eateries along the main drag, but it was still a peaceful place, and that's just the way he wanted to keep it. "I'll not allow the likes of Doug Carlson to turn this haven into some corporate yuppie conference center and bring in a bunch of developers and other money grubbers to ruin it!" he thought to himself. With that, Harry headed home. He walked in the door and saw the light on his answering machine was blinking. He hit the play button and "Hey Harry its Doug Carlson. I was wondering if we could discuss" click! Harry abruptly ends the message and says out loud to himself, "Not on my watch you won't! Not while there's breath in my body!" Harry wasn't about to stop there. Harry had been an active member of the Oxford community for years. He was a member of the chamber of commerce and the town council; he was a freemason and had been a volunteer fireman. In a small town like Oxford Harry had some influence. He knew the right people and the right people liked Harry and were willing to go to bat for him. So over the next few weeks Harry started attending meetings and letting people know how he felt about development and expansion in and around Oxford. Harry not only made sure that the Oaks was going to remain as it was, but that no one else with big ideas like Doug Carlson was going to come in and change the way of life in Oxford.

"Good morning Bill."

"Good morning Harry. Haven't seen you around much lately"

"I've been busy Bill. I've decided I'm not going to retire"

"That's good Harry. The place wouldn't be the same without you. Doug Carlson's been sniffing around here a lot lately, more than usual. What's he up to?"

"He's got it in his head that he's going to buy this place, but he's in for a big surprise and an even bigger disappointment. When he finds out I'm not selling he'll have to take his ideas of a big hotel and conference center somewhere else."

"I don't think the town council would ever pass that anyway do you Harry?"

"You never know what people will do when there's money involved, so I've been making sure they wouldn't pass any proposal that might take away from what Oxford is today. After all, it's our hometown atmosphere and slow pace that attracts the visitors. If the likes of Doug Carlson were to change that we'd be trading our current tourists for them café latte drinkin gobshites from over in Baltimore or worse from Washington D.C.!"

"Don't look now Harry but here comes Doug up the walk."

"Jeez! Tell em you haven't seen me" as Harry slips into the kitchen.

"Hey Bill"

"Hey Doug"

"Have you seen Harry around this morning?"

"Earlier, he said something about Baltimore"

"Shoot, I've been trying to get in touch with him for weeks. Do you know when he'll be back?"

"Hard to say when he'll pop up"

"Well draw me a beer Bill"

"You got it"

Harry hears the conversation between Bill and Doug and decides he can't hide in the kitchen forever. Besides, it's not like him to duck a fight. "Well, I don't want to make Bill out to look like a liar, so I'll slip out by the loading dock and come in the front."

Harry walks in through the bar door and approaches Doug and Bill.

"Hey Harry, I've been looking all over for you" says Doug.

"I know you have."

"I'd like you to reconsider selling and at least listen to our offer."

Harry remains calm, knowing that he has made up his mind and that he has covered his bases; he knows there's no need to be confrontational with Doug.

"Doug, I've decided I'm not going to sell. Not now, not ever. I'm going to sort of semi retire. I plan to hire an accountant and payroll manager to take care of the things that give me a headache and I'm just going to tend to the things I enjoy. Managing the day to day and enjoying the company of my guests, menu planning that sort of thing."

Doug's face begins to turn a shade of red as the anger builds. "You're not giving me a chance to present our side Harry."

"You don't have a side in this Doug. This is my place and I'll do with it as I see fit."

Doug's mind is racing as he thinks of what to say next, but nothing comes.

Harry sees that Doug is frustrated and he tries to calm him down.

"Doug, there are plenty of opportunities for an ambitious and enterprising young lad like yourself. There's no sense in hanging all your hopes on one idea or one place. If things don't work out the way you want you move on to the next thing. The sooner you learn that the sooner you'll understand business. You may not always be able to get what you want, but there are always other opportunities"

But Doug was used to getting what he wanted and without thinking his anger boiled over. "You're a stupid old man, who can't see what's in front of his face!"

"You better watch yourself boy, I ain't as old as you think!"

"Fuck you!"

Whap! Harry lands a right hook on Doug's chin, knocking him flat on his ass. Harry is on his feet now prepared for a fight, but it doesn't come. This was something new to Doug. Even as a kid in the schoolyard no one ever took a swing at him. He was in shock and just sat there on the ground holding his chin.

"Get up if you've got any fight in ya!" bellows Harry. But Doug just looks up at him with contempt.

"Just as I suspected, a lot of mouth."

Harry turns and walks back towards the door. Doug yells, after he knows Harry is gone: "This fight's not over old man!"

"You're a witness Bill. You saw him hit me. I'll sue his ass and then this place will be mine!"

"I didn't see anything Doug. Don't know what you're babbling about."

"Oh, so that's how it is. You'll be sorry you chose the wrong side in this." Doug leaves.

"Is he gone?" Harry says as he sticks his head out of the kitchen. Harry doubled back through the loading dock the way he had gone out.

"Yeah, he's gone. That was beautiful Harry! Knocked him right on his ass! Ha haaa!!"

"I didn't think I had it in me. I haven't took a poke at anyone since I left Boston thirty years ago."

"How'd it feel?"

"Pretty damn good, I have to say. Better set me up with a bourbon Bill, settle me down a bit"

"You got it boss."

Doug jumps into his car and speeds off down the road and says to himself, "That son of a bitch! He's not going to get away with that!" As Doug continues to drive he begins to calm down. He realizes that he can't have him arrested, its Doug's word against Harry's, and he doesn't want to draw any attention to the incident. "I'll wait until he's alone. He likes to hang around after the place closes and have a nightcap. That's when I'll take care of him. With no family and no one to leave the place to, it will have to be auctioned off. If I play this right I can get the Oaks without much of a fight, and probably save some money in the process. I should have thought of this before. Who needs that old man around anyway! I'll wait a few days for this to blow over. I'll even make nice with the old creep so it looks like we've made up before I do it. Then when the times right I'll take him out. It's perfect!"

So Doug went back to the Oaks the next day. When Bill saw him coming he said to Harry, "Don't look now Harry but Doug Carlson is headed towards the door."

"Is the Sheriff with him?"

"No, he's alone."

"Good morning Harry; Bill."

"Hey Doug" replied Bill; Harry said nothing but just sort of stared him down trying to figure out what he was up to.

"Harry I wanted to apologize for flying off the handle yesterday. This is your place and you have every right to do whatever you feel is right for you. But if you ever change your mind let know. I'm still interested."

"Doug, you surprise me. Maybe you'll turn into a gentleman after all. Let me buy you a drink. What'll you have?"

"Beer"

"Two beers Bill"

So Harry and Doug seemed to patch things up and spent the next hour drinking beer and talking. Doug listened to Harry's stories about growing up in Boston and how he lost his wife to cancer. Doug actually seemed interested in what Harry had to say but it was all just a ruse. In Doug's mind he murdered Harry over and over again as he listened. He fantasized about how he would do it. As Harry was talking Doug was surveying the grounds around the Oaks. Over there, near the docks, I could smash his big red melon head in with a rock and dump him in the river he thought. Or I could hide in one of the bushes and jump out behind him and cut his throat or plunge the blade deep through the his back until I saw it re-emerge out of his chest glistening bloody steel in the moonlight.

"Doug, have I lost you? You look like your somewhere else."

Poor Harry just thought he was boring Doug with his yarns, but Doug was definitely somewhere else.

"Huh? Oh no, I think the beer is just getting to me. I think I'll take off. Thanks for the chat Harry. I'm glad we were able to patch things up."

"Think nothing of it son."

Doug leaves and Harry heads over to the bar.

"You know Bill; he might be alright after all"

"Mmm, I guess, if you say so Harry. I never thought much of him myself."

"Awe, he's just a little spoiled is all; has some growing up to do. He'll come around."

Coming around was just what Doug had planned to do.

Over the course of the following weeks Doug continued to hang out at the Oaks with Skip and his pals just as he had planned. Everything seemed to be back to normal. The constant talk of buying the Oaks and building a conference center and high-end hotel from Doug had ceased. He and Skip settled back into their normal routine.

The crowds around town were thinning out as the season wore on. It was September now and the tourists had all but stopped coming into town. Kids back to school, working people back to their jobs. It would continue to slow down into the winter. Doug knew the time to strike was at hand. So he started waiting and watching. The Strand ran along the end of the little peninsula that Oxford sat on and from the end of the Strand Doug could see the Oaks. He would watch as Harry wandered around the grounds late at night. Sometimes Harry would walk home; sometimes he would fall asleep in one of the hammocks or lounge chairs placed near the water at the Oaks. But he always came out the side and walked down the length of the building along which was a thick row of bushes.

A perfect place to hide. Doug thought.

"I'll hang out until everyone has left and slip into the bushes. When he comes out for his evening stroll I'll crush his head with a rock and take his wallet. It will look like a robbery." So Doug hung out at the bar until closing time. A few drinks for courage and he slipped into the bushes when no one was looking and waited. His mind started racing with anticipation, and fear. He waited an hour, then two. This was too much time to think and reconsider what he was about to do.

"Where was Harry?" he thought. "A robbery, am I crazy? No one has been robbed around here in.... ever! No one would buy that! I must be nuts!" Just then he heard the door shut on the side of the building that Harry usually exits. He was coming.

"What should I do? I don't have this planned out right. I haven't thought this through! I have to go through with it. I may not get another chance." Doug's adrenaline was pumping now as he waited. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Harry was coming closer. Doug's heart was beating faster. He picked up the rock he was going to use. Just then Harry stopped and began looking around as if he knew something was wrong. Doug's heart was beating so hard he wondered if Harry might be able to hear it. Harry began walking again towards the spot where Doug was hiding. Harry stopped right in front of Doug. His back was to Doug. All Doug had to do was rise up and bring the rock down hard on Harry's head and it would be done. But he was gripped by fear. He tried to stand but couldn't move. He was frozen. His muscles locked in place. It felt like fire was running through his veins. His pulse pounded in his temples! Just as Doug gathered the courage to strike, Harry turned and walked away, heading up Tilghman Street towards home. Doug fell back exhausted and a little relieved. "I have to think this through better. It could have been a disaster if I had gone through with this tonight. The cops would have been all over me if they found Harry's body out here. No one would ever buy a robbery around here." Harry was gone so Doug took the opportunity to look around while he was there. There weren't very many secluded places where he would be able to hide. The pier! I could hide under the pier and when Harry walked out onto it I could reach up from underneath and grab his leg. He would trip and fall and break his neck or fracture his skull, or get knocked unconscious. It would look like an accident. Everyone knows that Harry drinks; he could easily get drunk and drown. So the next night Doug waited once again for everyone to leave. He snuck out to the pier and slipped underneath the boards where the end of the pier is buried in the sand. What he didn't count on was all of the other creatures that reside under the pier. Up under the boards were Spiders and a million webs; creepy little beetles and all sorts of nasty bugs. It was hot and very humid that night. Doug could feel the sweat running down the small of his back. He hated being under there. His flesh began to crawl and to make matters worse Harry was taking more time than usual coming out of the bar. As Doug was sitting there under the pier he scooted up as far as he dare go to avoid the spiders and other assorted bugs when he noticed something else. The tide was coming in. The longer he sat there the further he had to scoot up towards the snarl of webs that crowded the underside of the pier to avoid the rising water. He scooted up further and then he suddenly felt something crawl across the back of his neck! He dove out from under the pier in a panic. He stood up quickly pulling and swatting at his neck, cold shivers running down the entire length of his body making him quake with repulsion. "I can't do this! Home, shower, now" he thought. Harry on the other hand never did go on his little walk that night. As he was about to go out he heard water running in the kitchen. He walked into the dark kitchen and turned on the light.

"Bill must have hit the faucet as he was cleaning up." He thought. But when he tried to turn the faucet off the handle felt loose. He could turn it freely but it didn't change the flow of the water. He tried applying pressure to it and tilting it. He pushed and pulled but nothing happened. Just as he thought he was going to have to turn off the water main and call a plumber he gave it one last try and the water shut off with ease. He turned it back on, then off again a few times with no problem. "Huh? That's odd", he thought. Coincidentally, at the same instant Doug was diving out from under the pier.

Doug had finally come to the realization that he was no killer; he needed professional help. Doug also knew that he would have to go outside of his regular circle of friends to find someone to carry out this deed. His father would never be involved in anything like this, Skip wouldn't know anyone either. However he did know someone who had ties to some shady characters that might be able to help him out. When Doug was growing up he spent a great deal of his childhood under the watchful eye of his Father's housekeeper Pamoja. Pamoja was as close to a mother as Doug ever knew. She was a large black woman from the West African country of Togo. On the outside she was a good Christian woman, but on the inside she had been steeped in Vudun, a religion much akin to Haitian Voodoo. As a young boy Doug bore witness to many of her Vudun rites and ceremonies. She would pray to Jesus and at the same time invoke various Vudun gods and goddesses depending on her need. She knew of many Vudun gods who governed different earthly realms. When Doug was a teenager she often prayed to a god called Legba. This was also around the time her daughter Dara had been sent away to live with relatives. Dara's being sent away affected Doug deeply. Dara had been Doug's playmate growing up and at one time he had even been in love with her. They were the best of friends when they were young. They played together and although they attended different schools, hers public and his, of course, a private school, they studied together. And as they grew into adolescence their friendship blossomed and stormed into a tempest of emotion and desire. They were too young to understand what was happening to them. All they could feel was the attraction that drew them together. It grew stronger and stronger with each passing day. They both knew it but were too shy and inexperienced to talk to each other about it. Pamoja could see it too. Finally on the occasion of Doug's fifteenth birthday Dara gave him a little kiss to congratulate him just after he blew out the candles on his birthday cake. It wasn't the first innocent kiss they shared; she had given Doug many over the years. But this time it was different. This time she looked into Doug's eyes, and he into hers. This time she lingered just for a moment. Just long enough for Doug to see the longing in her eyes. In the following days they began to become aware of their mutual attraction and they knew it was only a matter of time before they acted on it. Doug was becoming a young man now and even then when he wanted something he wasn't hesitant in making his desires known. "Dara." He called to her quietly as she approached the back of the house where he had been waiting just beyond the row of hedges that lined the walk. He would never forget that day. It was early in the evening, the sun was just beginning to set and the sky was mixed hues of orange and blue. It was mid October and the air had just begun to cool as the night was moving in. The leaves on the trees had just begun to change color but were still mostly green. She walked over to him. She could see the intent in his eyes. As she drew near he slid his arm around the small of her back and gently but firmly pushed her up against the brick wall of the house between two dogwood trees and kissed her deeply. She returned his kiss with the deep passion that had been building up inside her. They were lost in their embrace and seemingly melted into each other as they continued to explore each other's mouths with the lusty hunger of youth. She breathed heavily as Doug kissed her ear. He devoured her neck as a vampire drawing the last drops of life giving blood from his victim. And she felt her knees give way beneath her. "We have to stop. She gasped. My mother is expecting me back in the house. She'll come looking for me any minute."

"Ok. Can I see you again later?" he asked.

"Meet me in the garden at midnight. I'll sneak out."

"I can hardly wait"

And Doug didn't wait. By ten thirty, once he was sure all had retired for the evening; he went down and waited in the garden. He sat there on a curved white concrete bench, a kind more decretive than practical, and waited nervously for Dara. The October night was cool but the garden was fragrant. He couldn't help but shiver. He couldn't tell if he was cold or just nervous. He heard the back screen door squeak open and wondered who could be coming? It was Dara she was anxious too. She was surprised to see him already there, but it made her feel happy inside to know that he was as impatient to see her again as she was to see him. She sat down next to him without saying a word. She leaned into him as he straddled the bench. His nervousness was gone. He all of the sudden felt quite at ease. It seemed the most natural thing for her to be in his arms. They began to kiss and as he kissed her he felt a cold chill running down his back. Then he realized it had begun to rain. By the time they felt the first few drops the sky had opened up and it was pouring. They scurried toward the greenhouse and went inside. Soaking wet, they laughed for a moment then resumed their kiss. He leaned her back on the patio recliner his father kept in the greenhouse. The soft deep cushion swallowed her and she felt as safe as in a cocoon. He kissed her deeply and began to unbutton her blouse. He stopped and looked into her eyes. She nodded for him to continue. Her breasts glistened, wet from the rain. He looked at them, perfect, round and dark. Her nipples were as dark as chocolate and just as inviting. He thought to himself that she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He fumbled ineptly trying to remove her skirt. She grabbed his hand. "Let me do it" she whispered. He watched with anticipation. She laid back, her light brown skin shone like topaz in the soft light. He slipped out of his jeans and moved over her. He began to push forward but stopped. He looked into her face and she into his. Then it happened, their virginity all at once fell aside as he sank into her. The air was cold, but she was warm. Her warmth enveloped him as they moved with each other. They could feel every ridge; every contraction sent them deeper into the abyss. They were the whole universe to each other now as if nothing else existed. Until she finally lurched forward in ecstasy and held him tight to her body, she sunk her teeth into his shoulder and her nails into his back, she felt the warm rush of his love and they fell spent into each other's arms.

"I love you Dara."

"I love you to Doug"

Pamoja didn't understand why she couldn't sleep that night until she went to the window and through the rain saw Dara and Doug running back through the rain towards the house from the greenhouse. "I could see this comin on. Dis is gonna be hard on dem two." She said to herself. Pamoja wasn't an educated woman but she possessed a certain wisdom of life, and she knew she had to nip this situation in the bud as soon as possible. She knew that Doug and Dara were from two different worlds, and that Doug's father would not let a relationship between Doug and Dara interfere with his plans for Doug.

So when Doug came home from school the next day he was told that Dara had been sent to live with her Aunt in Virginia. He was crushed. He never saw her again, and he never got over her leaving.

Doug was hesitant to go to Pamoja with his current problem. She had left his father's employ within a year after his relationship with Dara and he hadn't spoken to her much since then. But he had no other choice. He knew where to find her. She lived in a small rural house out in Overton where she practiced her Vudun religion and sold books and trinkets to tourists and those desperate enough to come to her for a revenge spell or love potion. The house was small. One room in the front crowded with little bottles and dolls, some jewelry on racks and in glass cases on tables. It looked a little like a Voodoo flea market. In the back was a dingy little kitchen where she cooked up more than soul food. There was a thick smell in the air, not foul, not pleasant, just sort of an odor that hung in the air suggesting something was simmering but you knew it wasn't stew.

Then there was a small bedroom upstairs where Pamoja slept. When Doug went to see her she was as bright and cheerful as ever. She was so happy to see the boy she had such a hand in raising grown up to be a man.

"Ohh Doug! I so appy ta see ya. What a handsome young man ya turned out ta be."

"It's good to see you too Pamoja. How have you been?"

"I been as good as I can be ya know. Oh but I can see in your eye you've not come to pay a social call on ole Pamoja have ya?"

"I could never get anything past you Pamoja."

"Tell me whatcha need son, and I give you. You got girl troubles, you need a potion make her do whatever you want, huh? Or you got aches and pains? No you too young for dat mess."

"No, nothing like that Pamoja. I know you come in contact with some people that might be able to help me with a little business problem I have."

Doug proceeded to tell Pamoja about his situation with Harry and how he needed him to go away.

"Dis gonna be expensive. And once you do this, there's no comin back from dis place. You understand?"

"I understand."

"I need a picture of the man; I need something personal from him. Something dat he keep close on his body. And I need $10,000.00 up front. Another when it is done"

"I'll get it; then what?"

"Then nothing; you wait until is done and you come back to see me."

Doug thought he might ask about Dara. "Pamoja, how's"

"You go now!" She interrupted. "Come back when dis business is done."

III

So Doug went to work getting what Pamoja needed. The picture wasn't hard. Harry owned a popular bar there were pictures hung everywhere. He could take one off of a bulletin board and it would never be missed. The money he had, that was no problem. "But something personal of Harry's, that might be a bit more difficult." Doug thought.

"I could break into his house and steal something. But what if I got caught, how would I explain that? And how would I know what to take? No, I'll have to do some detective work of my own to figure out what Pamoja's going to need."

So the next day Doug decided to stop by the Oaks and see his old pal Harry.

"How you doing Harry?"

"Hello Doug. I'm fine."

"I see your putting up the specials for today. What's good on the menu tonight?"

"Well we're starting to switch over to a heartier menu to go with the cooler weather. We've got soup in a bread bowl for starters. Warm hearty chowder served in a loaf of bread with a bowl cut into the center of it. You eat the bread bowl as you eat the chowder. And for the main course the chef is cooking up roast pork tenderloin with garlic mashed potatoes and pork gravy. I'm getting hungry just writing the words on the chalkboard here."

"That all sounds good Harry. I can certainly understand how this is all very personal to you. Any good luck charms to keep things running smoothly?"

"No, nothing like that Doug, just have to keep your ears open and listen to what your customers are saying. If they like what you're doing you keep doing it, if they don't you stop. You can't be pig headed about serving your customers Doug. They know what they want it's up to you to give it to them."

"I see," said Doug.

"There must be something he keeps that's personal to him," Doug thought. "But how to figure out what it is and how to get it?"

Over the next few days Doug returned to the Oaks to try and see if he could get Harry to talk about his personal life and try to get from him an idea of what he might be keeping that he could take to Pamoja. Doug tried rummaging through Harry's jacket on the coat rack while no one was looking, but found nothing. He looked through Harry's car and found nothing. He looked through Harry's office; it contained the usual stuff, a PC, assorted coffee mugs filled with pencils and markers. There were a few meaningless trinkets sitting on the desk and a picture of his wife Grace whom he had lost to cancer several years before. Doug quickly and nervously pulled open the desk drawers looking for something that might be personal to Harry. He knew he had to act fast to avoid being caught. He found nothing. Doug went home that evening and kept re-running the contents of Harry's office through his mind. The desk, the trinkets, mugs from different saloons and organizations Harry belonged to, a picture of his wife; His wife? Doug thought.

The next day Doug went into the Oaks early when he knew he would catch Harry alone.

"Harry, do you have a minute to talk?" asked Doug.

"Sure Doug. What can I do for you?"

"Well Harry, I've been seeing a girl for some time now and I think it's beginning to get serious. What was it like being married Harry?"

"Why I was married to a beautiful and kind woman who deserved much better than me."

"What Happened Harry?"

"I lost her to cancer some years ago. It was one of the reasons I left Boston. I couldn't bear to see the things that constantly reminded me of her. Everywhere I went was a place we had been. My friends were our friends and I couldn't see them without being reminded of my dear Grace. So I came down here for a visit to get away from it all and decided I would stay. So I sold the place up in Boston. I had enough money between what we had saved, property I sold and her life insurance to buy this place. So I thought what the hell, I'll start fresh down here."

"Ever consider remarrying Harry? There are a lot of women that come in and out of this place. Some of them must have caught your eye."

"More than a few of them have caught my eye. Occasionally one of them catches something else. I'm still a man after all. But no one could ever replace my wife. Here, let me show you a picture of her."

Harry reached down into the top of his shirt and pulled out his necklace on which was hanging a gold locket. He opened the locket to show Doug the picture of his beloved Grace."

"The locket!" Doug thought.

"She's very beautiful Harry. I'm so sorry for your loss."

"Thank you." said Harry as he wiped a tear from his eye. "Now I've got work to do." He said in kind of a rough voice. Harry wasn't one to show his emotions. That was his business and he was going to keep it that way. Doug got what he came for; he knew what he needed to get from Harry.

"How do I do this? He's always at the Oaks and he's always wearing the locket."

Doug thought about sneaking into Harry's house while he was sleeping but what if he wore the necklace to bed? And he was sure Harry had an alarm system. He couldn't take that chance. It was starting to get cold, especially at night, so there was no chance Harry would pass out down by the water in one of the lounge chairs. A woman! Doug thought. He even said to me "After all I'm still a man." If I could get him interested in a woman, who was willing to steal the locket for me; that's it, but who?" Doug looked around the bar. There were a few regulars but no one who Doug could trust with something like this. He searched his mind for someone who might be able to help him out, but all the women he knew were either too goody two shoes to be involved with something like this or hated him far too much to do him any favors. It would have to be someone who would do it for money, and who wouldn't ask a lot of questions about why he wanted the locket. Doug thought and thought but he kept coming up short.

"Hey Doug" He heard from across the room. It was Skip and with him was Lacey.

"Lacey" Doug thought to himself. "I could get Lacey to help me."

After spending the evening hanging out at the Oaks with Doug and Lacey and a few of the local regulars Doug went home to contemplate his next move. The following morning he telephoned Lacey.

"Hello Lacey."

"Hello Doug. What do you want?"

"I want to talk to you. Can you meet me somewhere? It's important."

"What does this have to do with? Is it something to do with Skip?"

"It involves Skip, but he doesn't know it and that's the way I want it to stay, and I need your help."

"I don't like this Doug. I already regret keeping secrets from Skip. I don't want any more."

"Well if you want to continue to keep your dirty little secret you'll do what I ask. Besides, this is to help Skip not to hurt him."

She hated that Doug had this thing to hold over her head and after a long pause she said, "Where should I meet you?"

"Meet me at the bowling alley in Easton in an hour."

Lacey gets in her car and drives up to Easton to meet with Doug. On the way there she tries to figure out what Doug is up to and why he needs her help. "Of all the stupid things I've done in my life, how did I ever get involved with this jack ass?!"

She arrives at the bowling alley to find Doug waiting in a booth in the little snack bar area.

"Ok, I'm here. What do you want?"

"Harry has a locket he wears around his neck with a picture of his dead wife in it. I need you to get it for me."

"And just how the heck am I supposed to do that?"

"You're a woman. Come on to him, get him to take you back to his place and"

"Your outta your freaking mind!" Lacey shouts. "For one thing, there is no way Harry would ever let himself come between me and Skip. He's a decent man, unlike you! And he wouldn't take advantage of me if he thought I was drunk or something, again unlike you! What the hell do you want to steal Harry's locket for anyway?"

"Huh? Oh, it's a surprise gift I want to give to him. I was going to take the picture out of his locket and have it blown up and framed. A kind of thank you for all of the guidance he's shown me lately"

"Bullshit! That would be an act of kindness and your incapable of such a thing."

"Ok, you're right, there's another reason I need it but I can't tell you what it is. But I can tell you this. If you don't find a way of helping me, our friend Skip is going to find out what kind of a girl his precious little Lacey really is."

"One of these days all of the bad karma that you have created is going to come crashing down on you."

"Well, until that time comes, I'll just enjoy the ride."

"I don't know how I can help you with your little problem."

"Figure it out sweetie, or else!"

With that said Doug walked out and left Lacey there alone. Lacey sat there, alone in the bowling alley restaurant. She looked around at the people laughing and having a good time. Seeing them made her all the more sad and lonely. She thought back to a time when she was a child, when she didn't have to worry about people like Doug and their agendas. She settled back in the booth and looked at the old white Formica table, and the yellow vinyl seats. Her parents had taken her to the same bowling alley when she was a child. She could almost still see her mother among the bowlers laughing and smiling. "Now here's a quarter Lacey. Go over to the snack bar and get yourself a cherry coke," her mother would say to her. And she would sit at the same snack bar that's there now, never a worry that someone would harm her, no agenda, and no people trying to take things from her. She wondered why things had to change. She got up to leave and walking towards the exit she looked down at the carpet. A hideous pattern of gold and maroon swirls; it made her smile just a little. "I guess tacky is just the right style for a bowling alley". But as she walked out of the bowling alley and into the dingy parking lot a cold wind hit her and gave her a chilly reminder her of how things are now. The only person she could think of to help was her mother's old friend Candy Bruyere. Candy was younger than Lacey's mother but much older than Lacey. She had moved to Maryland from Louisiana when she was younger and had met Lacey's mother through a temp agency they both worked for at the time. They soon became friends and Lacey's mother took an odd interest in Candy. They didn't remain close for very long but they always remained friends. Candy had what you might call a Bohemian spirit. Her apartment was filled with little nick knacks that reminded her of the Deep South. Beaded doorways and red lace curtains adorned her home. Walking into her apartment was like a step back in time, a hazy atmosphere of antique wood furnishings and flowery pictures. It was never dirty but always looked a bit cluttered and unorganized, with a slight scent of amber incense in the air. Candy herself was a handsome woman for her age, which was to remain undisclosed to everyone. She was a voluptuous woman, full figured but not heavy, full round hips and breasts. She wasn't afraid to show off her body but always with a bit of class; never showing too much. She wore dresses that would accentuate her curves and give just a hint of what lay underneath; showing enough to arouse only curiosity. She had full dark red hair that flowed over her shoulders and seemed to bring out the red hues in her hazel eyes. While Candy had an acute sense of her appearance and the things that made her happy, the opposite could be said about her sense of fiscal responsibility. She never had a career but relied on what she called "temporary interruptions of her repose", or what most of us call work. She viewed work as a necessary, but temporary evil. She also relied on the kindness of her male acquaintances for an occasional night on the town. As the years progressed however, these opportunities became fewer and fewer.

A knock came on Candy's door and she went over to open it.

"Who is it?"

"It Lacey Merrill" Candy opened the door.

"Why Lacey Merrill, what brings you here? Why look at you, you are just a flower. I'm so happy to see you. How is your dear mamma?"

"Oh she's fine."

"C'mon in sweetie and sit down. Can I get you a nice cup of tea dear?"

"Oh, that would be nice, thank you."

Candy called out from the kitchen. "What brings you to see me Lacey?"

"Well, I had hoped I could ask a favor of you."

"Why what is it that you need dear? You know if it's in my power to help you I will."

"It's not really for me but for my mother. You see after father passed away, mother began to see a man who owns a restaurant out in Oxford. She had given him a locket that was dear to her and now she wants it back but he won't give it back to her."

"Why that's just awful! Of course, a gift is a gift. Many a male friend of mine have given me gifts they sometimes wanted returned, but I always thought of those little gifts as tokens of affection, as well as my legal property."

"Yes, well, that may be true but I would really like to get it back for her."

"You know I would do anything to help your dear mother."

"This has to be our little secret Candy. My mother can never know and Harry, that's the man's name, can never know you took the locket. It could be tricky. He wears the locket all the time."

"You just leave that to me sweetie. I'll charm that little ole locket right off of his neck."

"No, he can't know you took it. So don't try to get him to give it to you. You're just going to have to find a way to take it without him knowing."

"Oh, I think that can be arranged. So tell me about this Harry. Did he treat your mother badly; is he a cad or something?"

"Oh no, nothing like that; they just were on two different paths. They didn't date very long. I don't even think he would remember mother."

"Oh a player is he?"

"No no, he's just kind of a loner. Very busy with his restaurant and bar. How about we go over there this Friday and I can introduce you?"

"That sounds lovely dear, but you know old Candy is in a bit of a pinch right now?"

"Oh don't worry about that. In fact if you're able to get the locket I'll be willing to pay you five hundred dollars for its return."

"Wooooo, this really is important to your mamma isn't it?"

"More than you know."

"Ok then, Friday night it is."

Lacey left Candy's apartment and called Doug on her cell.

"Doug, this is Lacey. I found a way to get your precious locket, but it's going to cost you five hundred."

"What? Five hundred! Are you nuts?"

"That's the deal."

"Jesus! Alright, just get it done as soon as possible."

They hang up, and Doug thinks to himself: Well I would have been willing to hire someone to get it for me. But five hundred, jeez! That seems awful steep. Maybe I can get Pamoja to throw in a voodoo spell that'll give that bitch the clap or something ha!"

Friday night Lacey and Candy headed out to the Oaks for a drink. "Let's get a table Candy. I'm sure Harry will show up sooner or later."

"Is that cute little ole boyfriend of yours going to meet us here tonight?"

"No, I don't think so?" Actually Lacey had Doug run interference for her and take Skip somewhere else to be sure he wouldn't pop in and wonder what was going on.

"There's Harry at the bar talking to Bill. Oh Harry!"

Harry walked over to their table. "Hello Lacey."

"Harry this is an old friend of mine Candy Bruyere."

"How do you do Mrs."

"Oh that's _Miss_ Bruyere honey, but you can call me Candy."

"Very nice to meet you Candy."

"Likewise I'm sure"

"I just love your southern accent, where are you from?" asked Harry as he coolly sat down at their table.

"I'm from a little speck of a town near New Orleans. I just love your place, and the way it looks out over the river. It reminds me of home."

"Did you grow up near the water Miss Candy?"

"Everywhere in New Orleans is near the water honey." She said laughingly.

"Harry is from Boston, Candy." Said Lacey.

"Oh, I've never been to Boston; I'll bet it's a lovely town. Tell me about Boston Harry."

"Oh there's not much to tell. Too damn cold in the winter, too damn crowded all the time."

"Ha ha, you tickle me Harry." Said Candy

Harry thought to himself "I'd like to tickle her a little!"

" Can I get you girls another drink, on me?"

"That's very cordial of you sir, why yes that would be delightful." Said Candy

Candy leaned over to Lacey "He's cute, this will be fun."

Lacey was a nervous wreck. She hated the idea of deceiving Harry. This type of deception was, on the other hand, exactly what Candy was used to. She had managed to keep herself by the kindness and means of her friendly male companions.

"Here you go ladies." Harry set the drinks down on the table. Seeing that Candy had the situation well in hand, Lacey began to make ready her exit.

"Candy, I'm sorry to cut things short but I have an appointment to keep and we're going to have to be going."

"Oh no, but we're having such a lovely time and I'm beginning to find your friend Harry here very interesting," she said as she leaned over toward Harry and rested her chin on her hand, flirtingly looking into Harry's eyes. "I think I'd like to stay a while longer."

"I can't just leave you here Candy"

"Oh don't worry Lacey. I'll be sure Candy finds her way home," said Harry.

"Well, if you're sure it won't be a problem?"

"Not at all my dear, not at all." Candy continued to stare into Harry's face and let out a knowing little laugh. Meanwhile Lacey thought to herself "This is working out just as planned." Lacey said goodnight and walked out towards her car. She felt bad about being deceitful, but she also felt good in a naughty sort of way, and she smiled just a little at her slyness.

Harry continued to entertain Candy. He told her stories, some true, some not so true, but he kept her laughing all night. Bill watched Harry from behind the bar and was pleased to see Harry enjoying the company of a woman. Bill had worked for Harry for a few years and couldn't recall Harry ever dating or having an interest in a woman. Harry had worked hard putting together a restaurant and bar, and keeping it running. He hadn't had time for much else. And for the time since his wife Grace had died he felt he would be betraying her memory by chasing women, so he hadn't pursued the company of a woman. Candy delighted in Harry's company and began to develop some genuine feelings for him. Harry had a great personality and a gift of gab that kept Candy engrossed. And although she thought of him as lively and jocular, she could see a forlorned look in his eyes that reflected the sadness in his spirit. She was truly touched by him. As the evening began to wind down Harry realized he wasn't going to be able to drive Candy home. He had walked the short distance from his house and even if he had brought his car he wasn't fit to drive. "Candy I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask Bill to drive you home. I've had a few too many scotches."

"How are you going to get home then?"

"Well I only live a few blocks from here. I can walk." Candy leaned over and said seductively with her distinctively New Orleans accent. "Why don't I walk with you?"

Harry responded with a smile. "I'll be right back."

He walked over and leaned up on the bar. "Bill, do you mind locking up tonight?"

"Not at all Harry," he said with a wink.

"Ok, let's go"

Harry took Candy by the arm and they walked, as best they could, up the lane towards Harry's, leaning on each other to keep in a relatively straight line. The October night was clear and crisp, with the moon shining brightly above. The light danced playfully on the water and the tall sailboats docked around Oxford rocked gently in the breeze. The only sound they could hear were the leaves rustling in the wind and the sound of their gentle laughter and footsteps on the road. They walked up to Harry's front door and disappeared inside.

IV

Harry woke up the next morning to find Candy gone. He walked around his house to look for her and found a note on his kitchen table that read:

Thank you for a wonderful time Harry. I woke early and you were sleeping so soundly I didn't want to disturb you so I called a cab. I hope we can do it again real soon.

Candy.

Harry sat down at the table and placed his aching head in his hands. "That's probably a good thing." he thought to himself "My head feels like a lead weight." Harry began reminiscing about the night before. He couldn't believe what had happened. "How long had it been? Well it all came back to you didn't Harry old boy, like riding a bicycle." Harry was elated. He hadn't been with a woman for a long time. He still missed his wife terribly; and somehow he still felt a little guilty, almost like he was cheating, even though he knew he wasn't. He reached to his chest for his locket but it wasn't there. "Huh, where's my locket? Things got a little wild in the bedroom last night. It must've come off." Harry went into the bedroom and searched through the bedclothes. He looked all around the floor, under the bed, on his dresser, behind the headboard, nothing. "It has to be here somewhere?" he thought. He began to wonder about Candy, whom he had just met the night before. "She wouldn't have? Nahhhh. My wallet is lying right out in the open. Jewelry box open on my dresser, there's a ton of stuff that she could have taken with ease. Why in the world would she go to the trouble of stealing a little locket? It had to have come off on its own. Jeez, I hope it didn't fall off while we were walking home." Harry put the locket out of his mind for the moment. "I'm starving to death." Harry went back into the kitchen and started to fix himself a hearty breakfast. "Let's see, what do we have here? Eggs, sausage, potatoes, hot sauce, gotta have the hot sauce!"

Little did Harry know that while he was enjoying breakfast and basking in the remnants of the previous evening's dalliance, Candy was delivering his cherished locket to Lacey. "Here you are, as promised, one gold locket."

"And here's what was promised to you Candy," said Lacey as she handed her an envelope.

"How did you manage to get it from him?"

"Let's just say he's a sound sleeper."

"Candy, you didn't!"

"Honey, when you get to be my age you take what comes your way."

"I just never thought of Harry as the type of man who would sleep with a woman he'd just met."

"He's a man honey; they're all that type. He's a sweetie though. I intend to see him again."

"Really, well then I'm happy for you Candy. I hope things work out for you. Of course, no matter how serious you two get you can never mention our little arrangement."

"Don't you worry about that none honey. It wouldn't benefit me to have him think of me as a thief. But I will say this. Had I known what a nice man he was, and had I not needed the money, I would never have agreed our little accord."

"I understand."

Harry went into the Oaks and went into his office to catch up on some paperwork, but he found it difficult to concentrate on his work. Feelings he hadn't felt for a long time were creeping back. It made him feel young again and he couldn't seem to keep that boyish smile from spreading across his face. He smiled so hard it was beginning to hurt his cheeks, so much so that he was afraid if he left his office people would see him and think he had lost his mind. And he had in a way, the same way that a young man often looses his sensibilities when in the presence of a beautiful woman. He had lost the ability to put together a cohesive sentence or poor a drink or hang a coat on a hook without awkwardly knocking things about. He had all of this nervous energy but lacked the focus to do anything productive with it. "This is useless!" he said. "I can't seem to get it together this morning. It's been a long time since I've been with a woman but it shouldn't be affecting me like this. After all I'm no kid; I've been around a bit. I'm just a little jittery from too many scotches last night. What I need is some fresh air." Harry decided to take a walk but on his way out through the bar Bill saw him and stopped him.

"Hey Harry, just where do you think your going? I want to hear how things went last night. I know everyone in Oxford and that woman you were with last night doesn't live here, and unless you walked all the way to Easton, she didn't go home. Am I right? I want to hear al the gritty details, so give."

"Well let's just say the old boy still has it and we'll leave it at that. Ok Bill."

"I know you still have it Harry. What I want to know was weather you were able to give it to her!"

Harry just gave a knowing little chuckle and said, "I'm going for walk to clear my head a bit Bill. I'll be back shortly."

"Ok Harry."

Harry walked down to the water and looked out over the river; a cool autumn breeze was blowing in from the east. The cold air felt good on Harry's face. He took a deep cleansing breath and felt the fresh air fill his lungs. The river looks different in the fall and winter months. The constant humming of boat motors is replaced by a quiet stillness. The vacationers are all but gone and the town seems to go into a sort of hibernation until spring. It's a perspective that most people don't get to see, but its one that Harry really enjoys. "I can understand why people retire to Florida. The older I get the less I like to cold, but I don't know if I would ever want to leave this place. You never get this kind of peace and quiet in Florida."

"You got that right" Someone had over heard Harry.

"Good morning stranger," Replied Harry.

"Good morning, out enjoying the morning air?"

"Yes, I do enjoy this time of year."

"As do I sir. Enjoy the rest of your walk." And the stranger walked on.

"Hmm, wonder who that could have been, not a local?" Harry didn't give the stranger much more thought. It wasn't that unusual to see people out enjoying a walk by the water. Suddenly a gust of wind came across the water and a blast of mist swirled up and sprayed across Harry's face. He shrugged his shoulders to the cold and returned to the Oaks.

At that same instant, out in Overton, Doug was handing a bag to Pamoja.

"I have everything you asked for Pamoja"

"A locket"

"How did you know that?"

"Things come to me. Spirits move quickly."

"So what do you need me to do now?"

"You don't have to do nothing. The rest will be taken care of. Soon dis Harry will out of your way."

Doug left Pamoja with mixed feelings. It was a long drive back to Oxford. He didn't know what Pamoja had planned but he couldn't help thinking of Harry and what might lie in store for him. "I don't know if this is the right thing to do. Harry is a good old guy but he's standing in the way of progress. I wonder how they'll do it. Will they shoot him or stab him or drown him?" he pictured Harry being drug to the bottom of the bay with his hands and feet bound, a heavy weight tied to his feet. Squirming and fighting and gasping for air! It made Doug him gasp himself. He could feel the fear and anxiety of imminent death as he pictured Harry being pulled down, and his eyes widened. "Oh my god what am I doing I'm not a murderer!" he said to himself. "That's right I'm not; that's why I'm having someone else do it. Harry has to be dealt with. It's the only way. I can't let one broken down old man with old ideas and a stupid sentimentality to keeping an old town just as it is stand in my way. I'm doing a public service by getting rid of Harry. It's the only way"

Doug managed to pull himself together and justify to himself why he had to do what he was doing. "I should probably distance myself from Harry for a while so that no one thinks I had anything to do with anything. Or should I just try to keep things as usual and continue to go as often as I normally do to keep things looking, well, normal? I should have asked Pamoja what they were planning, so I would know how to act. Stupid! Stupid! I'm leaving too many things to chance. I don't know who she's involved with or how careful they are! Jesus!! What was I thinking?!" Doug was beginning to panic. All the possibilities of what could go wrong were flooding into his mind. "There's no way I can go to prison. I'm way too white and too pretty for prison. If this goes bad I'll have to book to Rio or something." Doug pulled off the road. He was sweating, and shaking. The realization of what he was doing finally came over him and it was almost too much to bear. "Oh my god!" He reached over and leaned out of the car and puked all over the side of the road. As he lifted his head he caught something out of the corner of his eye. A Maryland State Trooper had pulled up behind him. "Shit! This is just what I need." Doug was no stranger to pressure and he was always able to think on his feet, but he was visibly shaken. "What seems to be the problem sir?" He heard in a deep authoritative voice. A voice that seemed a distant echo in Doug's spinning head. "Nothing officer. I just wasn't feeling well and I thought I should pull over just to be safe."

"Why aren't you feeling well, have you been drinking?"

"No, nothing like that."

"I'll need to see your license and registration; proof of insurance."

"Sure, no problem." He handed them to the Trooper.

"What brings you all the way out to Overton Mr. Carlson?"

"Oh, I uh, I was out here looking at a piece of investment property."

"In Overton?"

"It turns out it wasn't what I expected."

"I see. Ok, I'll be right back." Doug remained cool. The Trooper took Doug's information back to his car to run a check. Doug leaned back in his seat and waited for the cop. He was emotionally exhausted, but the cop seemed to snap him out of the funk he was in.

"Hear you go Mr. Carlson." As he handed Doug back his driver's license. "Everything checks out. Do you need me to call anyone for you?"

"No I'm fine officer, um Taylor" as he glanced at the officer's nametag. "Must've been something I ate."

"Ok, if you're sure your ok to drive you can be on your way."

"Thank you officer; have a nice day." Doug waited for the cop to drive away before he could breathe again. "He didn't believe me, I could tell. Investment property, what was I thinking? Doesn't matter, he may not believe my story but he doesn't know anything else either." It seemed this little interaction was just what Doug needed to feel normal again, normal for Doug that is. "Who needs that old man? Who cares what happens to him? He's standing in the way.

V

Harry headed back into the bar. "Harry, there's a call for you."

"I'll take it in my office Bill. Hello, who is it?"

"Good morning darling. I'm sorry I had to run out on you but I had an appointment to keep."

"Oh, that's ok Candy. I was hoping to hear from you. I never got a chance to get your number. I was afraid I might never see you again."

"Now what kind of a thing is that to say? What kind of a woman do you think I am?"

"Oh, I didn't mean it that way. I just was thinking..."

"Hahaha Oh honey, I'm just foolin with ya. I knew what you meant. You're such a sweet thing."

"So when can I see you again Candy?"

"Don't be too anxious now. You don't want to scare Miss Candy away do ya?" Candy knew Harry wasn't capable of scaring her away.

"No, I sure don't."

"I just wanted to apologize for running out on you sweetie. I'll give you a call and we can get together again real soon, ok?"

"Ok Candy. By the way, I really enjoyed spending the evening with you last night."

"I could tell."

"No, I mean spending time with you and getting to know you. I'd like to get to know you even better."

"Me to sweetie, ciao for now."

"Ok, hey Candy can I get your num..." click. She had hung up.

"Ok, well I guess you'll call me when you're ready."

"Unless I miss my guess that was your friend from last night."

"That's right Bill. She's a different kind of lady."

"How's that Harry?"

"I don't know how to describe it. It must be a characteristic of her southern upbringing. She seems to do whatever pleases her no matter how coarse it may seem and still manages to be a lady."

"When are you going to see her again?"

"Good question, I have no idea. I don't have her number."

"Well if she called from home it will still be on the caller id."

"It will?"

"Sure. Welcome to the 21st century Harry."

"Ha! You're a genius Bill. I don't want to seem too anxious, so I'll wait a couple of days before I call."

"Sounds like a plan Harry."

Harry stayed true to his plan and waited two days before calling Candy. Those were two of the longest days of Harry's life. All he could think about for those two days was what he would say when he called.

"Hello Candy."

"Well hello. I was wondering if you were going to call."

"Yes, well of course I was. Are you busy for dinner tonight?"

"I hope so."

"Great, I'll pick you up around 6:30?"

"Ok, I'll see you then. I'll meet you out front."

Candy wasn't ready for Harry to see her apartment. It was full of her history and she didn't want to spend the whole night explaining each little item that her apartment held. Candy also felt that her apartment was her own little corner of the world where she could be herself. Candy had spent a great deal of her life alone and was quite accustomed to having things her way. Her way was a bit eccentric and she knew that some people had trouble accepting her little peccadilloes.

So Harry and Candy had their date, and another, and another. This was going on for a few weeks and things couldn't be going any better for the two of them. Harry was happier than he had been since the days when he had first started dating his wife. He felt full of life and now looked to the future with an excitement and fervor he hadn't felt since he was a young man. Harry hadn't thought that much about the future since Grace died. He more or less just took things one day at a time. There were good days and there were not so good days, but they just seemed to come and go without much thought. He had his business and it was at a point where it pretty much took care of itself. All he had to do was manage the day to day, make sure his customers were happy, and keep the menu interesting. His social life to that point was made up of his interactions with his customers. He had become used to living alone, and after all most of his time was spent at the restaurant, his house was just a place to hang his hat and rest his head. Candy coming into his life changed all that and after a few short weeks of dating he was ready to make Candy a more substantial part of his life. Their relationship had changed Candy's outlook a bit too. She was always one to live for today and not be overly concerned with what tomorrow might bring. But now she started to think about growing older and being alone. How much nicer it would be to share her life with someone else. Not just anyone else, someone who would understand her and love her for who she is, and who she had been, someone who was strong enough to handle her and someone who shared the same passion for life that she had. Harry was looking more and more like that someone.

One night, as Harry and Candy were sitting at the Oaks enjoying a cocktail Bill watched Harry and Candy together. Candy walked off to the ladies room.

"How are things going Harry? It looks like you and Candy are getting along well"

"Yeah, I guess that's true. I can't stop thinking about her. I wonder where she came from and how she all of the sudden became such an intricate part of my life. I never thought I would have room in my life for someone else after Grace died. But here she is."

"It's nice to see you so happy Harry."

"Well that I am Bill. She makes me happy. We have a lot in common believe it or not. Even with our backgrounds being so much different. Me an Irish kid from Boston and her a Southern Bell."

"Sounds pretty serious Harry."

"I think it may be."

"How does she feel about all this, have you talked to her about it?"

"Actually we have begun talking about what it would be like to be together full time. It's a big step, a bigger one for her than for me. She's never been married and has always lived either alone or with family, and she said she hated living with family. But who doesn't? When Grace was alive I pretty much let her have the run of the house. It was all hers and she made a real nice home for me. But Grace was more of a conventional woman than Candy. I didn't have to deal with beaded doorways or incense burning or any of the other things Candy enjoys. She's different than what I'm used to. I don't mind that stuff, it's just different that's all."

"Maybe she could make some adjustments for you?"

"I wouldn't want her to Bill. Those are the things that make her who she is. If I wanted another Grace, I wouldn't be considering spending the rest of my life with Candy. Grace was good for me at the time, but now I think I'm ready to experience a new way of looking at life and I think Candy is just the person to do it with."

"How do you mean Harry?"

"I have always been a risk taker Bill, sometimes more so than I should be, especially when I was young. Grace helped keep me grounded. I'm not a kid any more; I'm not interested in taking big risks anymore. I want to be with someone that's going to be fun to be with."

"I think I understand Harry."

"Bill, fix me a scotch and water. Candy's going home and I'm going to take a walk down by the water. I'll probably go home from there, so lock up when you go ok?"

"Sure no problem Harry."

So Harry went down by the water for his walk, as was his custom. The cool fall air bit at Harry's face, but he didn't mind. It felt like springtime for Harry. He could hear the slight hum of a motor on the water, which was unusual this late in the evening on such a cool night. A small workboat was putting up the river right towards Harry's dock. The boat was unusual in a way. It looked like a lot of the other work boats in the area, a small cuddy in the front, a tiny wheelhouse, open in the back with a roof that covered the entire stern to keep the hot summer sun from burning you while you crabbed, or clammed. But this boat was different. It was about half the size of a regular workboat. It couldn't have been more than eighteen feet in length and it was surprisingly narrow. It was difficult to tell the exact color at night, but it was definitely dark. Not just the hull either, the whole darned thing looked black in the water. As the boat drew nearer Harry heard a call. "Harry!" came a voice from the boat.

"Who is it?" Harry called back in a low voice.

"C'mon over Harry, I have a bottle of Cragganmore single malt on board, and I couldn't think of anyone better to share it with than you."

Harry began walking down the dock. "Cragganmore you say, eh?"

Harry made his way to the end of the dock and squinted trying to see who it was. Harry had been a local fixture for a number of years and had many friends, but he couldn't place the voice.

"Welcome aboard Harry" Harry stepped onto the boat and sat down in a deck chair. The boat pulled away from the dock and putted out toward the Tred Avon.

VI

This time of year the Oaks was fairly quiet, so it wasn't unusual for Harry to take the mornings off. Bill didn't think too much of it when he arrived the following morning and Harry wasn't there. Things ran along as they normally would. The cook was in the kitchen chopping vegetables and preparing for the days menu; Bill was behind the bar cleaning the water spots off of the glasses; the news was on the TV in the lounge as the hostess made her rounds and straightened napkins. Nothing was out of place. A few locals stopped in for lunch. The mailman stopped by to drop off the mail. Later in the evening as the sun began to set a few folks came in for dinner or to have drinks at the bar. But Harry never showed up. Still, Bill didn't think it very unusual. He thought to himself Maybe Harry was feeling out of sorts, or maybe he just decided to spend the day with Candy as was becoming his habit of late. Whatever the case may be Bill wasn't overly concerned about Harry taking the day off. The next day however as Bill was preparing for the lunch crowd the phone rang.

"The Oaks" Bill said as he answered the phone.

"Hello Bill?"

"Yes, this is bill. Is that Miss candy?"

"Why yes it is. Is Harry about Bill?"

"No, Actually I haven't seen Harry since the day before last. I assumed he was spending time with you. Have you tried him at home?"

"I've left a message last night and again this morning on his machine but I haven't heard back from him."

"Well I wouldn't worry about it too much Candy. He may have had to run over to Baltimore for something or another. I'm sure you'll hear from him before the days out."

"I hope your right Bill."

"I'm sure I am. If he shows up here in the mean time, I'll be sure to tell him to call you."

"Ok sweetie, thanks."

Bill hung up the phone but he was beginning to feel a little uneasy about Harry now. "Well if I don't hear from him by the time the lunch crowd thins out, I'll walk up and see if he's at home."

The lunch crowd came and went and still no word from Harry. "I'm going up to check on Harry." Bill yelled into the kitchen. And with that he walked to Harry's house. He could see Harry's car was still in the driveway, so he went up to the door and rang the bell. He waited no answer. He rang again, and again, no answer. Bill peered through the window on the porch and could see no sign of Harry, no movement whatsoever. Bill walked over to Harry's car and placed his hand on the hood to see if it was warm from the engine running...it was cold. So Bill walked back to the Oaks. "Well, the last time I saw him he was headed down towards the docks for his walk." So Bill walked down to the water's edge to see if there were any signs of Harry. Nothing there, not even his empty glass. Bill was really beginning to get concerned now. He knew Harry would throw a fit if he called the Sheriff and came to find out Harry was ok. "Let him throw his fit!" Bill thought. "I need to be sure he's ok. Something smells fishy around here and it's not Oxford Seafood."

Bill called the Sheriff's office and explained the situation. "Somebody will be right over to take a statement." They said.

Sheriff's Deputy Arnold 'Bucky' Cooper went down to the Oak's to take a statement.

Bucky walked into the Oak's and looked around. Bucky took up most of the doorway; he was a big boy to say the least. It was no wonder that no one called him Arnold. He looked just like you might think a deputy should, tan uniform, Stetson, toothpick in his mouth, mirrored sunglasses hanging from his breast pocket with the arm of the frame stuck in the button hole and the shades hanging on the outside, he even opted to carry a Ruger Security Six .357 magnum as opposed to 9mm automatic or .45. He saw Bill behind the bar. "I'm looking for Bill." He said.

"I'm Bill; I was the one who called."

"From what I understand the owner here has been missing for two days, is that right?"

"Yes, that's right."

Bill filled in the deputy on everything that had happened over the past two days since he had last seen Harry. And as he was doing this a familiar face came in the door, Doug Carlson.

"Hey Bill, what's going on here, you didn't get robbed did you?"

"No, let me finish up with the deputy here and I'll fill you in."

"Ok, Is Harry around?"

Bill and the deputy both gave Doug a strange look.

"No, haven't seen him in a couple days."

"How do you know Mr. Sheehan, uh Mr.?"

"Carlson, Doug Carlson. Harry owns this place and I've been a regular here for some time now."

"Why are you looking for him?"

"Well, uh...no reason, just wanted to talk to him." Doug was becoming nervous. He started wondering if Pamoja had done something to Harry. But Doug played it cool. He wasn't about to look rattled.

"Is Harry in some sort of trouble?" Doug asked.

"That's what we're trying to sort out," said Bucky.

"Harry hasn't been heard from in a couple of days Doug, and I called the Sheriff's office just in case. It's probably nothing to worry about but I can't find him anywhere and neither can Candy."

"I'll stop back later when you're not so busy."

"I can get you a dri..." but Doug had already made his way out the door, bumping into a table on the way out.

"What's his relationship to Mr. Sheehan?"

"He was interested in buying this place from Harry a while back, but Harry didn't want to sell. Old Doug was pretty hot about for a while. He and Harry even got into a pretty heated argument in here one afternoon over it."

"Uh huh."

"But they had become somewhat close afterward. Harry seemed to be kind of mentoring Doug over the past few months."

"Ok well I've got all I need for the moment. We'll run some standard checks; check the hospitals and so forth. If we hear anything we'll let you know, and you do the same."

"Will do, thanks for coming out."

Meanwhile Doug sat in his car waiting for the deputy to leave. He looked in the rearview mirror at his face; he was as white as a sheet. His hands were sweating and he felt very nauseous. He had hoped he hadn't appeared too nervous to the deputy when he was at the oaks. When he saw the Deputy's car drive away from town he checked his look again. Come on Doug. Get your shit together! He could barely breathe; he was engulfed in fear and dread. The realization of what he had done was setting in. Had they noticed his tension? What had Bill said to the Deputy? He drove back to the Oak's to find out.

"What's going on Bill?"

"Well like I told you, nobody's heard from Harry in a couple of days and I was starting to get worried."

"What do you think happened to him?"

"Nobody said anything _happened_ to him Doug!"

"Right, right, I didn't mean to imply, I was just wondering where he might be?"

Bill pulled Doug a beer and walked away.

"Jesus! What the fuck is wrong with me?" Doug whispered to himself. "And that fuckin cowboy deputy! I know he's suspicious of me.

Bill came back down the bar.

"So what kind of questions was that deputy asking Bill?"

"Just what you would expect: When was the last time anyone saw him? Who was the last one with him? Was it uncommon for him to leave town without telling anyone? Did he have any enemies? Things like that."

"So, did he?"

"Did he what?"

"Have any enemies?"

"You know Harry. He pissed people off sometimes but he didn't have any real enemies."

"Did the deputy ask about me?"

Bill thought for a second before answering. And after thinking about it he knew the only person Harry had any real problems with in recent months was Doug. Bill didn't have any real reason to suspect that Doug had done anything, but he never liked him and didn't trust him.

"No, he didn't ask about you Doug." He lied.

"Well, why would he? No real reason to I was just thinking since I was here and all, he might have asked. I'm sure Harry will turn up safe and sound anyway, no need to worry."

"I hope your right."

"But just supposing he didn't, what would happen to this place? It would have to be sold I suppose, right Bill?"

"Harry made provisions for that in his will in case something happened to him." In reality Bill had no idea whether or not Harry had made provisions for the Oak's in his will or even if he had a will for that matter. But he knew where Doug's mind was and this seemed like a good opportunity to mess with him. Doug's mind on the other hand was racing. Had he gone through all this for nothing? Had he risked his life and his future without knowing all the facts?

"You ok Doug? You look a little pale."

"Huh? No I'm fine, just concerned about Harry, that's all."

Doug finished his beer and left. As he walked to his car his mind was numb. He couldn't even form a thought he was so shocked by what Bill had said. "What did he mean made provisions? Did he leave the place to Bill?"

Bill on the other hand was quite satisfied with his ruse. He knew, whether something happened to Harry or not Doug was thinking of how this situation might benefit him. Bill had been a bartender for a lot of years and he had become a good judge of character. And he knew just what kind of character Doug was. If you fell down Doug was the kind of guy who would check to see if you where dead before he went through your pockets and if you weren't he would help you up and expect a reward. Doug didn't do anything unless he saw something in it for Doug, no matter how sincere he may appear.

VII

The next day came and went and still no sign of Harry. Bill was really starting to get worried. That night after closing up he walked down to the water's edge the way Harry would in the evenings sometimes. Bill was trying to piece things together in his mind. "How can someone just disappear?" he thought. Then he looked out at the water and wondered if maybe Harry had some sort of accident? "There are too many people on and around the water, even this time of year. If Harry had fallen in the river or passed out and drowned, someone would have found him by now." Bill looked down the creek towards Oxford cemetery, which sits on a piece of land that is surrounded by water on almost all of three sides. He noticed a boat moored out there that he hadn't seen before. Not that a new boat was anything unusual to see in that area, but this one was different, it was dark and ominous looking, sitting alone in the distance. And it looked more like a small workboat rather than one of the cruisers or day sailors he would normally see moored out there. "Maybe a waterman in search of some late season crabs?" He didn't think too much of it and turned to walk away. Bill didn't get much sleep that night. He kept wondering about Harry, and he couldn't get that strange boat out of his head. He woke early and decided to head down to the Oak's to get a jump on the day. He arrived just before daybreak and looked out again on the strange boat moored in the creek. "I'm going to go take a closer look at this." He thought. So he jumped into the small zodiac that Harry kept at the dock for bringing in folks from their moorings or taking them back out when they had too much to drink. The morning was crisp and clear and the sun was just breaking over the horizon by the time Bill was heading out. As he approached the boat he noticed a man standing near the stern. "Good morning" said Bill as he approached the vessel.

"Good morning".

"It's a beautiful morning isn't it"?

"Like god's own glory. Above all things friend, I love the way the day breaks on the water." With that the man threw off his stern line and began to putt away. Bill waved to him as he turned away. In the half-light of the morning Bill didn't really get a good look at the man in the boat. But he assumed that someone moving around on the river that early had to be a commercial waterman, and didn't give it much more thought. "Just a creepy looking old boat," he thought.

Later that afternoon a panic stricken Candy called Bill. "Bill, I just had a visit from a Sheriff's Deputy by the name of Cooper. What's going on? Has something happened to Harry?"

"I called the Sheriff just to be on the safe side. I still haven't heard from Harry and I guess the deputy is just doing his job."

"I have a bad feeling about this Bill." Candy was crying.

"Don't worry Candy. He'll turn up. I'm sure the police just want top cover all their bases. They're doing their best to find out where Harry might be. What did Deputy Cooper tell you?"

"He asked me a lot of questions about Harry and about our relationship. He said he had run the usual checks and no one fitting Harry's description had checked into the hospital or been arrested. I just don't know what to think? I finally reach a point in my life were I find a man to settle down with and he up and disappears on me. It bad karma! Bad Karma catching up with me!"

"That's nonsense Candy. Now just settle down. Harry will show up you'll see. Maybe he's just taking a break. He's been through a lot over the past few months. It could be he just took some time to think things over."

"Why would he do that and not tell anyone? Me? You? He would have told somebody!"

"I can't answer that Candy. All I can do is try to understand Harry and hope for the best. Why don't you try and get some rest and as soon as I hear something I'll let you know, ok?"

"Ok Bill" Bill hangs up the phone. "Where the hell are you Harry?" Just then a shadow fell across Bill's face. Bucky Cooper was standing in the doorway blocking the light.

"Oh hey Deputy Cooper, what did you find out?"

"Well I checked the hospitals, prisons, morgues etc. and he hasn't turned up in any of them. That's a good thing. Usually when someone goes missing like this and we don't find them in one of those places they generally turn up on their own. Sometimes folks just take a little breather and disappear for a few days. And it's not unusual for a middle aged man to take such a break."

"It's not like Harry to take off and not tell me where he's going or when he'll be back. He has a business that he's never spent too much time away from and a new girlfriend that he's become quite fond of. It just doesn't add up."

"Without anything else to go on, all we can do is wait."

"Have you checked into Doug Carlson? He came back here after you left the other day and he seemed awfully nervous. He was asking what information you needed and if you had asked about him. It seemed a little suspicious to me."

"No, unless you have some specific reason to think he had anything to do with Harry's disappearance, we have no reason to suspect him."

"I really think you should at least question him. I don't trust him for a minute."

"You just let us handle the police work Bill. If he becomes a suspect we'll be sure to get to him. At this point we don't know that a crime has even been committed, so let's not start making unfounded accusations. Let us know if you hear anything."

"OK, will do." Bucky gave Bill a little two-finger salute from the brim of his hat and headed for the door.

Bill was disgusted with the way the Sheriff's office was handling this. "Shit kicker couldn't find his ass with both hands."

A week passed; then two, still no sign of Harry. Bucky called Bill and let him know that they were going to send some boats and divers out to have a look around. The last place Harry was seen was near the water's edge. It made sense for them to take a look around. "I have to be honest with you Bill; I don't expect to find anything. The way the currents in these rivers run a body could wind up anywhere. Besides, if he did fall in and drown, the body would have most likely popped up by now and some waterman would have stumbled across it or it would have washed up on shore somewhere."

"So why are you bothering to send divers out?"

"There's always the possibility that he could have gotten caught up on a tree that had fallen into the water, or we may find an article of clothing or something else that might be useful. You never know. I just don't want to set any expectations."

"Are you going to drag the river Bucky?"

"No, the rivers too big for that. Too much stuff in it to, old crab pots and lines, tree branches, wrecks, you name it, its been sunk out in these waters; just too much stuff to get hung up on. We leave that sort of operation for lakes and ponds where we have a pretty contained area."

"So when will you be doing this?"

"We have divers available Wednesday morning and the weather looks good."

Bill wondered if he should tell Candy that they were sending out divers to look for signs of Harry or evidence that he may have drowned, but he decided there was no point in upsetting her any more than she already was.

So Wednesday morning arrived and the small off shoot section of the Tred Avon River that runs past the Oaks and ends up at Oxford cemetery was bustling with activity. It was a beautiful day for October sixty-five degrees and sunny, just right for spending the day looking for the body of one of your friends. Jon boats with uniformed officers floated around as men poked and prodded the shoreline and shallows with boat hooks, trying to find any scraps that Harry may have left behind. Occasionally one of the two divers they had searching the bottom would surface and report that he had found nothing. The curiosity of the town's people and visitors were peaked and they lined the shores, watching and waiting. The banks of the river at Oxford Cemetery roll upward from the water, grassy and green. People sat on the Cemetery lawn with picnic baskets and wine as if they were about to watch a fireworks show, looking out over the water; watching the police search the river for Harry's body. The tombstones loomed ominously behind the onlookers, new ones over fresh graves and hundred year old ones that had been yellowed and cracked over time. This morbid picnic scene sickened Bill as he scowled at the onlookers. Then out of the corner of his eye he saw her. Candy was standing near the dock with her hands covering the bottom half of her face, her wide horrified eyes peering out at the river over her fingertips. Oh my god. Bill said to himself. Bill walked over to Candy and gently put his arm around her shoulder and turned her away from the river. He walked her slowly up to the entrance to the Oaks and standing before the doorway she dropped her hands. "What's happened? Why are they here?" She said in a panicked voice. "Its just part of their procedure Candy, the last time I saw Harry he was down by the water. They just want to make sure he didn't...well, you know." Candy began to sob and Bill escorted her into the bar. "Let me fix you a drink Candy." Bill poured Candy a brandy; she cupped the glass with both hands as if it were a hot cup of coffee on a cold day and lifted it to her lips, her hands trembling, and her eyes still wide and glazed. "Excuse me Candy," said Bill. Bill picked up the phone and called Lacey. "Hello Lacey, this is Bill from down at the Oaks. I was wondering if you're busy at the moment. Your friend Candy who has been seeing Harry stopped in here and saw the police boats searching the river and she's very upset. Is there any way you would be able to come down here and sit with her while I deal with the police?"

"Well I'm in Oxford now as a matter of fact, so I'll come right over."

"Thanks Lacey. I'm afraid I'm not very good at dealing with crying women. I'm a bartender; I'm more accustomed to dealing with crying men."

"No problem Bill"

In just a few moments Lacey came in and went straight over to Candy and put both arms around her. Candy began to weep uncontrollably on Lacey's bosom.

"I've got her." Lacey mouthed to bill. And Bill made his way back down to the river where the search continued. "Lacey, does this have anything to do with the locket?" Candy whispered through her tears. Lacey's face went pale and Candy could see the fear in her eyes. Lacey hadn't even considered the locket would have anything to do with Harry's disappearance until now. But she started to put things together in her mind. It was Doug who wanted something from Harry, and Doug who was the most disappointed when Harry decided not to sell the restaurant. But how could a little thing like a locket have anything to do with Harry's disappearance? "No Candy. How could it?"

"I don't know. I just can't help feeling like I'm responsible in some way." She said sobbing.

"Why that's nonsense Candy." But Lacey couldn't get the thought of Doug's possible involvement and that little locket out of her mind.

VIII

The police finished their search and turned up nothing. The next day Doug came poking around to see what they had found.

"Hi Bill."

"Hi Doug, what can I do for you?"

"Well, I heard the police came out and searched the river for Harry's body."

"That's right Doug."

"No sign of Harry?"

"No sign of Harry Doug."

"Do they have any clue as to what might have happened?"

"Not really. Too much time has passed and too much weather to be able to tell if there was any kind of a struggle down by the water. They didn't find any blood or clothing. It's like he just vanished into thin air." Doug was beginning to feel pretty comfortable. No one seems to suspect me, he thought. Even if they did, they had no proof that I had anything to do with it. Hell, truth be told, I don't really even know what happened. I could pass a polygraph if I had to!

"Bill, I'm going to take off. You have a great day." Doug was almost gleeful as he left. And Bill thought, "He has something to do with this. I know he does."

Doug called his friend Skip. He decided it was time to make his move.

"Skip ole man, with Harry out of the picture its time for us to make a play for the Oaks."

"Doug, Harry's only been missing for a couple of weeks. I don't think any declaration has been made. He could still turn up."

"Oh, I don't think he will." Doug said knowingly.

"What's that supposed to mean Doug?" Doug was feeling pretty full of himself and wanted the world, including Skip, to know he was no one to be trifled with.

"I just don't think he'll be turning up, that's all. People don't just disappear and then re-appear Skip. This isn't a magic show. It's the real world and this is how things really are."

"What are you talking about Doug; you're not making any sense?"

"I'm talking about business, and progress, and how the world is. It's not a place for the faint of heart or the weak of will."

"Whatever Doug, in any case, we can't do anything until a certain time has passed or until Harry turns up, alive or otherwise."

"What do you mean time? He's gone. There's nothing stopping us from buying that place now!"

"Who are you going to buy it from? The owner is missing. We may have to wait three or five years, maybe longer before anyone declares him dead?"

"What! We can't wait that long. I have plans! I have to go. I'll call you later!" Doug ended the call abruptly. "What the fuck! I can't wait three years." Doug called John Skibicki, a friend from College who had become an attorney. "John, this is Doug Carlson, I have a question for you."

"What is it Doug?"

"I'm interested in buying a property and the owner has gone missing."

"Gone missing?"

"Yeah, he just vanished. Some people think he may have gotten drunk and drowned or something."

"How long has he been missing?"

"A couple of weeks."

"That's no amount of time Doug. He could show up anywhere. Maybe he just went on vacation or bumped his head."

"Well let's just say he doesn't turn up. How long before he's considered dead?"

"It's not really my area of expertise Doug, but I'm pretty sure its seven years, and even then it usually requires a family member or someone close to the person to ask the courts to have them declared dead for the purpose of dispersing property and so forth."

"Are you sure its seven years?"

"I'm pretty sure, I can research it for you and get you the details but then I'd have to bill you. I'm afraid the partners would insist."

"No, I'll take your word for it. Thanks for your help John."

"I have to find out what they did". Doug said to himself. He then jumped in his car and headed out to Overton. He stormed into Pamoja's store. "Pamoja! Pamoja!" A young girl came out of the back. She couldn't have been more than thirteen or fourteen, but she had the attitude of experience.

"What's all this noise about?" she yelled back. Doug was immediately transfixed by her. Her voice wasn't African or even East Indian. It was American, but had kind of an influenced accent. Much like the accent a Yankee gets when he's lived in the south for a while. She was fair skinned, mulatto, with short dark brown hair under a kerchief. She wore a pale blue work frock that was half covered in dust. She held a dust rag in her hand that she shook at Doug when she spoke.

"What do you want here?" she yelled at Doug.

Doug recomposed himself. "I need to speak with Pamoja."

"She's gone into Baltimore to get some things from the importer. She'll not be back until late."

"How late do expect her to be?"

"I don't put a time on her. This afternoon late"

Doug knew he couldn't speak with anyone else about the situation so he decided to wait. He drove to the nearby Rock Hall and fell into BJ'S tavern. It was the middle of the afternoon in the off-season and he was the only one in the place. The bartender looked up from his newspaper.

"What can I do for you?"

"You serve food in here?"

"I imagine I can find you something." Doug looked at his watch, 1:30. I don't imagine I should try back out there until at least 5 o'clock. I wonder who the girl was?

Meanwhile back at Pamoja's shop Pamoja was arriving much earlier than expected.

"A man was here looking for you."

"What Man?"

"A white man looked to be from the city."

"Did he say what he wanted?"

"No, he said he needed to talk to you." Pamoja had a feeling it was Doug. What other white man would be looking for her and only her?

"Did he say when he would be back?"

"No, but I told him you wouldn't be back until late this afternoon. That you had gone to Baltimore for some things."

"But girl you know I was only over to the Farmer's Market, why'd ya tell him dat?"

"He seemed angry or upset about something and I thought I should give him some time to cool off."

"Ohhhh you're a smart one you are! That was a good thought. I brought you up right deary." Pamoja was sure now that it was Doug.

"Do you know this man?"

"I might."

"What's his name?"

"Why you care about who dis cracker is? Is no business of yours. You go on now and help get dem things out of da truck."

"He seemed familiar to me?"

"Well he's nobody you need worry your head about!" There was an unfamiliar firmness in Pamoja's voice.

"Yes'm."

Back at BJ's Doug was just finishing a bowl of chili. "Hey this is pretty good."

"Thanks, I made it myself."

"Is this your place?"

"Yup. BJ Munroe's the name."

"Pleasure to meet you BJ, Doug," Doug reached out his hand.

"What brings you to Rock Hall Doug?"

"Oh, I uh," Doug hadn't thought about having to answer for why he was in Rock Hall, and he was all of the sudden without words.

"Oh ok, I think I get the picture," said BJ.

"You do?" replied Doug.

"Sure, you got a little something on the side up here. I've been a bartender long enough to see when a fella's got something going on."

"Oh right! You have a keen eye BJ."

"Don't worry pal. Your secret's safe with me."

"Thanks a lot BJ. Well I'm out of here." Doug hit the door as fast as he could. It's only 3 o'clock. I need to kill some time. Doug drove into nearby Chestertown and walked down by the riverfront. To think this was at one time one of the largest ports and shipping centers in the country. Doug looked around at the eighteenth century homes that surround the waterfront. Nice area, he thought. I wonder how a place like mine would fare here.

Doug speculated on a hotel and conference center in Chestertown. He pictured the same well to do crowd and grandeur that he anticipated in Oxford using a similar facility in Chestertown. Doug walked up to a phone booth and opened the yellow pages. Let's see hotels, bed and breakfast.... Wow. This place is already loaded with places to stay, have meetings, boating. Hmm... oh well, I haven't got the fist one going yet. I guess I should concentrate on the project at hand before I think about expanding. Doug looked at his watch. 4:30, time to go. Doug was much more relaxed now as he drove back down to Overton. He arrived at Pamoja's and this time calmly walked in. "Hello Pamoja."

"Hello Doug. Was you here earlier?"

"Yes."

"I understand you were quite animated last time you were here."

"I was a little concerned, that's all."

"What are you concerned about?"

"Is there somewhere we can talk?"

"There's no one here but us."

"The man who I needed out of the way has disappeared."

"Isn't that what you wanted? Too late to change tings now."

"Yes, I wanted him out of the way. But he isn't really out of the way now. He has disappeared and no one knows where he is or if he's dead or alive."

"Why is that a problem?"

"If they don't know that he's dead, that means he could still be alive! Everybody's holding out hope that he's going to turn back up. That he's just gone on vacation or something."

"Well I don't tink he'll be coming back from dis holiday."

"I understand Pamoja, but I need for the authorities to be able to prove that he won't be coming back. Otherwise I could wind up waiting years for them to determine the outcome of his estate and business. Do you know, specifically, what happened?"

"I don't get involved wit dese things you know. I make the arrangements, and most importantly, I satisfy those spirits on the other side that may want to interfere wit your plans. That is what you ask me to do. This keeps you safe from knowing. What you don't know can't get you in trouble."

"And I understand and appreciate that Pamoja. But in this case I need to know."

"You can't know. And neither can I. It was a mistake for you to come back here. People see you here and wonder what goes on."

Doug plopped down in a wooden chair; he was exhausted. Pamoja just looked down at him. Doug felt something and looked into the doorway to the adjacent room out of the corner of his eye. A curtain hung in the doorway and between the edge of the curtain and the doorway he could see her. It was the girl from earlier. He could see her eyes staring at him from the part in the curtain.

"Pamoja, who was the girl that I met here earlier?"

"Time for you to go!"

"What?" Doug was confused.

"You shouldn't have come here! Not so soon. You put us all at risk."

"But what am I supposed to do?" Pamoja grabbed him by the ear like a little boy and walked him to the door.

"Owww!!"

"Go! Don't come back till I send for you!"

She slammed the door and Doug stood outside dumbfounded. Doug left and headed back to Oxford. On the ride back he couldn't help but think about the girl. There was something familiar about her, but of course, he couldn't know her. And why was Pamoja so put off when he asked about her? In any case, Doug was still left with a problem. Harry was missing and he had no way to prove he was dead. And until he could do that, his plans were going to be on hold. If I can't get the information from Pamoja, I'll go around her. And maybe that young girl is just the person to help me.

IX

Skip was still a little concerned about Doug's demeanor the last time they had spoke. What did he mean by saying he didn't think Harry would come back? Is he trying to tell me he knows something about what happened to Harry or where he went? He called Lacey to talk to her about it. "Lacey, it's Skip"

"Hi honey, what's up?"

"Nothing really, I guess its nothing anyway."

"What are you talking about?"

"Nothing, It's just that the last time I spoke to Doug he seemed a little strange that's all."

"There's nothing odd about that. God only knows what's going on inside his head. Was there something in particular that concerned you?"

"It was something he said about Harry." Lacey was a bit anxious to hear what Doug might have said about Harry. She had a feeling that Doug might be involved somehow.

"What did he say about Harry?"

"He just said he didn't think he would be back. But it wasn't just that. It was the way he said it. He said it with a sort of knowing in his voice."

"You don't think he could have done anything do you?"

"I don't think so. I've known Doug a long time and he's capable of some shifty business, and he can be kind of a cad (Something Lacey knew only too well), but I don't think he would actually hurt anyone." Lacey's encounter with Doug weighed heavily on her mind. She was tempted now to tell Skip, while he was having doubts about Doug, what had happened when they were in college. She knew someday it would come out and it would be better if it came from her. She could feel a lump forming in her throat as she began to speak.

"Skip, there are probably a lot of things you don't know about Doug. It's easy for people to hide things from their past, at least for a while. But you have to understand that people make mistakes and sometimes they don't understand how those mistakes might affect them in the future."

"I think I know Doug pretty well Lacey. And I don't think he's a criminal." Lacey could feel the tears starting to stream down her face. She sat down on the edge of her bed with the phone to her ear wondering if Skip would ever forgive her.

"I have to go Skip. I'll call you later." She hung up the phone and began to cry. She searched her soul for a way out of telling Skip she had slept with his best friend, but she couldn't find one. She knew eventually Doug would tell Skip, or he would continue to hold it over her head until she couldn't take it anymore, but one way or another he would find out. "He'll find out and he'll hate me for it! He'll hate me for lying to him! He'll hate me for being a fool! And he'll hate me forever!" She fell face forward onto the bed crying. The coolness from the comforter on her bed covered her face and absorbed the tears. She stared across the blue and white bedcover as if she were looking out of a cloud across the sky. Her mind was numb with fear and sadness. She felt like drifting away, away from the mistakes she had made, away from the future she was sure she had destroyed, away from all the uncertainty that lie ahead and especially away from a world that was so full of cruel and evil men like Doug Carlson.

Skip was left dangling on the other end of the phone. Has everyone lost their senses? He wondered. First Doug talking like a he's a mafia Don and now Lacey rambling on about some philosophy on life and how people make mistakes and so forth. Maybe it's me? Maybe I'm the only one who doesn't get it? I don't often say this, but I think I need a drink! Skip headed down to the Oaks.

"Hey Bill, can you get me a shot of bourbon and a beer please?"

"Sure thing Skip. A shot of bourbon at three in the afternoon, that's unusual for you Skip."

"Been a rough day Bill. Is it just me or is everybody crazy?"

"Crazy as hell Skip, crazy as hell."

"I thought so. Well, here's to ya Bill." Skip threw back his shot. "Ahh!!! Ohhhh that's what I needed to wake me up!"

"That'll sure do it. What seems to be eatin ya Skip?" Skip didn't want to mention to Bill that he thought Doug might know something about Harry.

"Women Bill, Women!"

"Isn't it always? Everything ok with you and Lacey?"

"I guess so? She's just been acting kind of strange lately."

"How do you mean?"

"She was always very predictable. I always knew where she was who she was with. Lately though she's been strange. Just a few minutes before I came down here I was talking to her on the phone and she all of the sudden said she had to go and hung up on me. It sounded like she was starting to cry. I don't get it Bill. What makes a woman change like that?"

"You're asking me what makes a woman's mood swing? Look my friend, women are different than us, you know Venus and Mars and all that. It's just not meant for us to understand them. To tell you the truth, I don't think they even understand each other half the time."

"You don't think she's seeing someone else do you Bill?"

"Are you married?"

"You know we're not."

"If that were the case she would probably tell you, or say something like 'I think we should see other people'"

"Yeah, I guess your right about that. There's definitely something on her mind though. I can tell. Any word on Harry yet Bill?"

"Nope, not the slightest clue as to what happened to him or where he went."

"What do you think happened Bill?"

"I've thought about that a lot as you might imagine. I honestly can't think of anything legitimate. I know one thing; Harry didn't just take off without telling anyone. Things were going great for Harry, he was happy, he had a new girl, and the place was doing well. He wasn't overwhelmed or stressed about anything. Quite the opposite, in all the time I've known him, I've never seen him more content."

"So you think there's been some sort of foul play?"

"I do"

"But who would have any reason to hurt Harry. Harry's a great old guy."

"There's only one person I can think of that would benefit from Harry being gone, and that's your pal Doug."

Skip wasn't as shocked to hear this as he thought he should be. That same thought had crossed his mind. And Bill could tell by the look on Skip's face that he wasn't shocked to hear him say it. Bill headed back over to the bar to take care of a couple that had just sat down at one of the tables near the bar. Skip held his beer with both hands and turned his stool away from the bar. He stared down at the wood floor and wondered again if his friend was capable of murder. How much would it really take for a person of questionable character to cross that line? Doug wasn't above cheating or lying to get what he wanted, he didn't have much of a conscience either, at least when it came to business. Is that how he saw it? Was this just another short cut to getting what he wanted? If he saw this as just being part of business and if he really is delusional enough to believe that this is how business is done, than maybe, maybe. Skip looked up from the floor just in time to see Lacey walking in. She walked across the bar, her shoes landed noisily on the hard wood floor. She leaned in and kissed Skip and smiled broadly at him. Skip thought to himself, and now she's happy again? Lacey had decided this wasn't the right time to tell Skip what had happened. The only value in it at this point would be to relieve her own conscience, and maybe a hurting conscience was just the price to be paid for what she had allowed to happen. Doug will get his all in due time she thought. No reason to hurt Skip with this now.

"How you doing baby," said Skip?

"I'm ok," Lacey said with a smile. Bill watching this from the other end of the bar that he had been leaning on reading the paper looked up and caught Skip's eye. Skip looked at Bill over Lacey's shoulder and Bill just knowingly shrugged his shoulders and smiled. "I thought I might find you here." Lacey said.

"And here I am. I was worried; you sounded strange on the phone."

"I was feeling a little out of sorts, but I'm ok now. I think it's just all this drama around here since Harry disappeared. It got me to thinking about things."

"What kind of things? Because it's gotten me thinking about things too."

"Just how fragile things are, you think everything is going great and something like this comes along and threatens to ruin all of your plans."

"What plans?"

"Not my plans silly, Harry and Candy's plans."

"Oh right! Disappearing will definitely screw up your plans. They kind of screwed up ours in a way. Doug was negotiating with Harry to buy this place and I was going to be his partner. If Harry doesn't turn up, that could be on hold for years." Bill overhearing this chimed in. "That's right Skip. I had a lawyer look into it for me. Harry would have to be missing for several years before they considered him legally dead."

"So what happens to this place in the mean time Bill?" asked Doug

"I help Harry with the payroll and management of this place and I can sign checks. The chef can take care of the menu and the kitchen staff. I run the bar. There's no reason this place won't just chug along until Harry turns up. I already cut his grass and I have a key to his house, so there's no problem there. Unless a family member comes forth and petitions the court, Harry is just considered missing. And I don't think Harry has any family."

"Well it doesn't look like you get to be a restaurateur after all Skip honey."

"That's ok Lacey. I'm happy either way"

X

Doug on the other hand was not happy. He had spent the day watching Pamoja's place from a distance. Seeing who came and went and most of all watching the young girl who he'd met in Pamoja's store. He arrived early in the morning and situated himself on an old cart path that went into the nearby woods where he could clearly see Pamoja's place without being seen. He had made a day of it. He felt like a detective on a stakeout. He packed a lunch and a cooler full of soft drinks. He wrote down a description of everyone who stopped by, hoping to get a clue as to who Pamoja was dealing with in this thing and how they might lead him to Harry. "Here I was the one who asked her to get rid of Harry, and now I'm the one doing the police work to find out what happened." Just as Doug was contemplating the irony of his situation he saw her, the young girl, leaving Pamoja's. She turned and walked up the road until he couldn't see her anymore. "I have to see where she went." He started his car and slowly drove up the road in the direction she had gone but there was no sign of her. Doug drove very slowly peering through the woods on his left to see if there was a house or a path she may have gone down. On his right was a harvested cornfield, barren except for some the remains of the stalks that stood there during the summer. But there was no farmhouse in sight. He came to a crossroads at the end of the woods and decided to turn left, he drove a little further and a dirt road crossed the paved road that he was on. He decided to turn left down the dirt road and see what was back in the woods.

He drove slowly down the dirt road; woods towered over him on both sides. He could hear the crunching of his tires on the rocks and gravel and decided it was too noisy to continue. He stopped the car and got out. The woods were thick and heavy with underbrush. New saplings grew in the spaces between large aged trees. It was much darker and colder in the woods and he pulled his jacket tightly around his neck to shun the cold. But this cold wasn't all coming from outside; this chill was coming from within. As he walked on and lost site of his car he felt more and more alone and the woods grew more ominous. Than in the distance he could make out the shape of a house. He stopped so as not to be seen by anyone who might be there. "I have to know if that's where she went." He thought. "I can't walk right up to it from the road and risk being seen. I'll have to make my way closer through the woods." Doug stepped off of the path and started moving slowly through the woods, carefully moving from one big tree to another, not making any noise. He crept closer and closer and finally there was nothing between him and the house but the lawn. "I can't see anything from here." He thought. Just then the squeak of a screen door broke the silence and he saw the girl stepping off the front porch and walking towards the woods in the front of the house. She headed down a path back towards the road that ran down to Pamoja's place. "A path, I must have missed it from the road." Doug hurried back to his car and doubled back to where he thought she might emerge from the woods. As he turned the corner he could see her in the distance walking down the road heading back towards Pamoja's. Doug stepped on the gas. He rolled down the passenger side window as he pulled along side of her.

"Hi remember me?" She looked over and bent down to see who was in the car.

"Yes, you're the man that was in the store the other day."

"That's right. Can I talk to you for a minute?" She stopped walking and turned towards Doug's car. "What do you want?"

"I don't know if Pamoja told you about me, but I'm an old and very dear friend to Pamoja."

"No, she didn't tell me."

"Well it's true. I was wondering if you could help me."

"Help you with what?"

"I'm afraid Pamoja might be in some sort of trouble and I wanted to see if I could help her.

"What kind of trouble?" she said with a sarcastic tone.

"Well, she's gotten mixed up with some bad men who may have done something terrible and if I knew who they were I might be able to help, why don't you hop in so I can talk to you some more about it."

"I know better than to get in some strange man's car!"

"But I told you, I'm an old friend of Pamoja's and you've seen me with her. Trust me, its all for Pamoja. I don't want to see her get into trouble."

She hesitated for a minute and reached for the door of the car. She pulled it open and sat down inside.

"Good, now we can talk. I'm just going to pull off the road down past the other side of the store so we can chat." Doug drove back to where he had been parked and pulled up into the woods. This made the girl nervous.

"Why you pulling up into the woods?"

"Just so we can talk. First off, I don't even know your name?"

"My name is Deirdre."

"Hi Deirdre, my name is Doug. It's very important that what we talk about stays between us ok Deirdre. Who does Pamoja make arrangements with for things she needs done outside the store?"

"I don't know."

"There must be someone who she depends on when there's work to do that doesn't involve the store. Now tell me who that is."

"She doesn't work outside the store." Doug was beginning to get a bit frustrated.

"Let me back up a bit. Maybe if you tell me what she does do in the store when people come to her it might help jog your memory."

"Well, people come to her for different things; mostly just trinkets and souvenirs and sometimes for spiritual help."

"That's what I'm talking about, spiritual help. Who does she use to help her with those matters?"

"She doesn't use anyone. Pamoja is a spiritual Maman. It works like this; all things and all people are intertwined in the spirit world. Whatever action you take will come back to you, bad or good."

"Like Karma."

"Right, like Karma. But that Karma is controlled by God, the Saints and the spirits of our ancestors; what Pamoja does is satisfies any bad Karma your actions may have caused by making sacrifices and prayers to your ancestors or to the ancestors of those who you may have harmed or to higher sprits who influence nature."

"But when someone wants something done that has to be carried out in this physical world, who does Pamoja call?"

"I told you she don't call nobody!"

Doug was beginning to realize that Deirdre either was lying to protect Pamoja or she really didn't know about Pamoja's associates. He thought he should try a different approach.

"Tell me about you Deirdre. How long have you known Pamoja?"

"My mother brought me here when I was very young, only about two years old."

"Does your mother live nearby?"

"My mother lives in the spirit world."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"What you sorry about? It's not like she's not around."

"Huh?"

"You really don't understand us do you? She's still as much here as you and I. But it's like she lives in a house over the hill and can only visit from afar. But I know that she hears me and sees me and is able to help and protect me if I need and deserve it."

"Doesn't everyone deserve to be protected?"

"No, if someone's actions or thoughts provoke a negative response from the universe or the sprit world than even your ancestors are reluctant or unable to protect you."

"It's really touching that you feel that way about your mother; That she's still around and all" Doug could see that he was gaining her trust. He shifted in his seat so that he was facing towards her and he laid his head sideways on the back of the seat and looked over at Deirdre. She smiled at him shyly and turned towards him. "How did your mother die?"

"She had a cancer. That was why we came to live with Pamoja. She knew she didn't have much time left and wanted me to be with someone she knew she could trust to raise me and take care of me."

"You know Pamoja helped raise me."

"She did?"

"Yes, she worked for my family when I was born and since my father spent so much time working she really kind of raised me to."

"What of your mother?"

"She died when I was young."

He reached over and put his hand gently on her cheek.

"Do you love Pamoja?"

"Of course I do."

"Then let's keep this thing a secret between me and you."

Deirdre looked into his eyes and nodded her head in agreement; she all of the sudden felt a deep kinship with Doug, having shared so many similar experiences.

"Find out who she deals with when she needs something done. When can I see you again?"

"Pamoja goes into town every Friday to get things she needs. I can be walking along the road just like before at around 10am."

"Ok, I'll see you Friday at 10 and you can tell me what you know, your so beautiful Deidre. Thank you for helping me, and Pamoja." Doug said as he rested her chin on the side of his finger and kissed her on her forehead. She smiled broadly at Doug, obviously taken with the older man's interest in her. She reached over without taking her eyes off of him and got out of the car.

Doug's eyes tightened as she walked away. He knew as long as he played on her young impressionable emotions she would do whatever he wanted and he could use her to find out who Pamoja was dealing with when it came to Harry. Deirdre on the other hand was jubilant as she walked back toward Pamoja's store. No man had ever shown any interest in her, let alone such a handsome and rich man as Doug. She went back to her work straightening and cleaning the store and spent the day fantasizing about what life would be like married to a rich white man. She saw herself in a big house with shining cars and a fine manicured lawn, wearing all the finest clothes and attending balls and dances. She would be the envy of every woman in the city she thought. It was all she could do to keep the smile from her face. She thought about all the things they had in common: being raised by Pamoja, loosing their mothers at a young age. All of the other things that they didn't share like their background, education, and overall life experiences in general seemed to disappear for her. All she could think about was Doug. Doug came back on Friday as arranged but Deirdre was nowhere to be seen. He drove up and down the road several times until he started to feel like someone was going to notice him driving back and forth. On his last pass by the store he saw Deirdre starting out of the door heading towards the road. Doug pulled over and she got in his car.

"What took you so long? You said 10 o'clock."

"Pamoja just left. A woman came in for some help and she held things up."

"Oh, what kind of help?"

"The lady was afraid she had offended the spirit world and was asking Pamoja to make sacrifice on her behalf."

"How did she offend the spirits?"

"I'm not sure. I couldn't hear the whole conversation."

"How do people know to come to Pamoja for these things, does she have an ad in the yellow pages or something?"

Deirdre laughed. "No silly. Most people hear by word of mouth. This lady though, I'm not sure? She was a white lady from New Orleans. I don't know how she came to know about Pamoja. But Pamoja has ties to the south and especially to New Orleans as you might imagine."

"What did she look like?" Doug said nervously.

"She was an attractive older lady, with red hair." She could see the concern in Doug's face. "Do you know her?"

"I don't know." He said quickly.

"Hey, I brought you something." Doug reached into his pocket and took out a small rectangular box and handed it to Deirdre. She took the box from Doug and opened it. Inside was a necklace with a fine gold chain. On the chain hung a heart intertwined with a triangle. She had never possessed such a thing.

"Why, she asked."

"I just thought you should have something as beautiful as you." Deirdre smiled and Doug placed the necklace around her neck. She reached over and hugged Doug's neck tightly. Doug began to lean forward as if he was going to kiss her, but a feeling he couldn't explain suddenly drew him back. He was never above using a woman's feelings to get what he wanted, or even going as far as starting a relationship for the same purpose, but this time he hesitated. He settled back in his seat.

"So what were you able to find out?"

"I'm sorry Doug. I asked her about things and she began to question why I wanted to know. I told her I wanted to learn to be like her and do what she does but all she told me was things about Vudan and the spirits. Things I already know about. She wouldn't talk about her business."

"Here's what you need to do. You need to go through her phone book, and her ledgers to see who she contacts and who she pays. Money has to cross hands when she needs something done and money always leaves a trail. I'll meet you back here same time next week."

"Ok, I'll see what I can do."

Doug became stern with her. "You do better than see, you get me that information."

"I will."

Doug put his hand on her shoulder to reassure her and she stepped out of the car.

XI

Little did anyone know that Harry was at that same time convalescing in the home of waterman Ben Smythe. Harry had wondered out of the woods near Ben's bungalow near Neavit on the Choptank River, confused, cold and bleeding. He couldn't remember who he was, were he lived or what had happened to him. Ben considered himself to be a good Christian man and took Harry in to help him along. Unfortunately for Harry, Ben was an eccentric sort of recluse. The only time Ben left his house was to crab, and to sell the crabs he caught. Most of what he needed he took from the land and the river. The only way to get to his house was from the water. The long unpaved driveway that once led to his house had long been overgrown. The remnants of an old Ford pick up sat near the back of his yard, rusting and filling with weeds that had grown up through the rotting floorboards. The house wasn't much more than a shack, but it was solid enough to keep in the heat in the winter and keep the rain off of Ben's head. Woods bordered the house on both sides and the back looked over an open field filled with tall grass, beyond that was more woods. The front of the house faced a shallow patch of backwater that could only be accessed at high tide. The yard was filled with the tools of the waterman's trade, lines and ropes, netting and stacks of old bushel baskets. An old wooden keg filled with salt brine for the purpose of preserving bait sat next to the house. Ben was a grizzled old waterman. He was taller and heavier than Harry and the clothes he lent Harry had to be rolled up to accommodate his stubby limbs. Ben had no interest in knowing anything outside of working the river. The thought of taking Harry to a hospital never even entered his mind. He felt that it was his duty to take care of this man that he believed God had led to his door. Ben had a great deal of faith. He wasn't religious in the traditional sense, but he held a strong belief in God and he felt that nothing happened by accident. To Ben everything was driven by God's will. When Harry wondered onto Ben's property Ben noticed that he was bleeding from the back of his head. There was a puncture wound at the back of his head just below the crown on the right side. Only the skin had been broken, but here must have been enough force to knock Harry unconscious. Ben walked Harry into his house and got him cleaned up, dressed his wound, and even gave him some clothes to wear. Ben discarded Harry's old clothes as they had been torn and muddied while trying to find his way through the thick woods.

Since Harry's arrival at Ben's he had been struggling with reality. He knew he didn't belong there but he just couldn't remember anything else. Ben was afraid to push Harry too hard to try and remember and he thought it was nice to have some company around for a change. Harry wasn't much of a conversationalist for Ben at first, because he couldn't remember any stories to tell, but Ben had plenty and Harry enjoyed hearing Ben talk of his life on the water and how he had come to be alone in such a place. Harry asked Ben how he came to be a waterman living alone along the river.

"Well my friend," said Ben. "I wasn't always living out here on my own. I was raised on a small farm not too far from here. When I was a young man the government decided I needed to go off and fight Germans for them. They called it World War 2. I spent four years in the Army, what they liked to refer to as the duration. What they meant was as long as the war was on. Luckily for me the unit I was attached to spent most of their time trying to catch up to the rest of the war. No matter where we went it seemed like someone else had already done most of the fighting, which suited me just fine. I never felt that is was necessary to kill anyone to make a point."

"I have to agree with you on that Ben."

"How are feeling friend?"

"Thanks to you I feel mostly fine. I still get a sharp pain shooting through my head from time to time is all."

"Having any luck remembering how you wound up on my stoop?"

"I remember waking up in the woods with a terrible headache, freezing cold, and wondering how I got there. It was hard to think; everything just kind of ran together in my mind. I knew I had to find my way out of the woods. I walked and stumbled, my balance was off and I had to lean against a tree every now and then just to keep from falling over. I remember seeing the sunlight shining through the trees and I thought I was coming near the edge of the woods. I was right, the woods ended and the water started. So I made my way along the shoreline until I came upon your place. I'm sure I would have died if you hadn't been here to take care of me."

"Think nothing of it. Between me and the lord I knew we'd get you back on your feet."

"I just wish I could remember."

"I'm sure that knot on your head has something to do with that. I remember a guy in the war having similar problems after a mortar attack once."

"What happened?"

"They took him to the hospital. He came back to the unit a few weeks later with his memory intact. I guess he just needed some time to heal. I think that may be the case with you as well. Just be patient, it'll come back to you."

"I sure hope your right."

"Listen, I have to run over to the docks to get fuel and some supplies."

"I'll come with you."

"If you're sure you're up to it?"

"I'll be fine."

So Harry and Ben boarded Ben's boat and headed out across the water. It was a sunny day and the view of the river's edge from the water was serene. Harry looked around and it all felt familiar to him but he still couldn't pull his thoughts together. He was becoming frustrated and the jumbled pictures in his mind began to race. He started to feel dizzy and sick and dropped his head into his hands. "Are you ok?" asked Ben.

"It all looks so familiar, like I've been here before, but I can't place anything!"

"These rivers all look alike from out here. There are a thousand twists and turns and little creeks. This may just remind you of another place."

Ben did his best to console Harry and after Harry gathered his thoughts he was able to calm down. Ben pulled his boat up to a place on the water called"Doc's Dock". Doc's was a general store; bait shop and gas station for boaters. Harry looked up at Doc's from the boat and he could see the storefront facing the water. The building was white with a porch that ran the full width of the building. If not for the fuel pumps and various signs advertising the products for sale inside, Coke, Hershey's Candy, Marlboro etc., it would just look like an old colonial style house. There was a dirt parking lot to the right with a dirt road running back through the woods, which stood about a hundred yards behind the store. To the left he could see a very old and decrepit workboat rotting in the yard. Beyond the woods there was a campground frequented by tourists during the summer and boy scouts during the fall and winter. Between boaters and campers Doc made a pretty good living with his little store. Doc was a transplant from Florida. He grew up a Navy brat spending his childhood moving from place to place. He thought he might follow in his Father's footsteps and joined the military, but after a few years he decided he just wasn't cut out for military life. So he decided to settle down on the quiet of the Eastern Shore. Doc himself came out the front door to greet Ben. "How you doing Ben?"

"Ok Doc."

"Fill er up?"

"Yup, and I'll be inside loading up on supplies to see me through the winter." Doc made his way over to the boat and began to fuel it up when he noticed Harry sitting in the boat. Doc thought it was very strange to see someone with Ben. Ben had a good disposition, but everyone that knew him, and there weren't many, knew he was a reclusive and kind of eccentric old man. Doc finished fueling up Ben's boat and went back inside to see if he needed any help. "Finding everything you need Ben?"

"Pretty much going to wipe you out of canned vegetables Doc."

"That's ok, I'll order more."

"I'll need a sack of flour Doc."

"Ok Ben, give me a list of whatever you need that I don't have on hand and I'll get it for you." So Ben finished gathering up his supplies and handed Doc the list.

"How long to get this stuff in Doc?"

"Give me a week. Say Ben, who's the fella sittin in your boat?" Ben was caught off guard; he thought for a minute. He didn't know who had hurt Harry or why and he thought it would be in Harry's best interest to keep quiet about what he knew. "Oh, he's a cousin of mine from Virginia. He's going to be staying with me for a while."

"Oh family visit huh?"

"He hasn't been feeling well poor fellow and I thought it would be best if he had some family around to look after him."

"Oh, what's wrong with him?"

"Oh, uh, well he's just getting on in years and has trouble remembering things. I figured he couldn't wander off too far at my place."

"You got that right Ben. Ok, I'll see you next week."

Doc watched as Ben and Harry putted away from his dock.

XII

Deidre continued to press Pamoja for information but she was as cagy as ever when it came to her business dealings. So Deirdre decided to take Doug's advice and begin looking through her books to see if she could find any names or numbers that might be helpful. Deirdre put Doug off this week and instead took that time she new Pamoja would be away as an opportunity to look through her things. Pamoja headed out as usual Friday morning at 10 o'clock. Deirdre waited nervously for Pamoja's truck to get far enough down the road that she new there was no danger of her coming back. She went into Pamoja's room and began to look around. Pamoja's room was the largest room in the house. It was filled with all sorts of trinkets and idols. Not a flat space was left uncluttered. In the center of the room stood a queen sized bed made up with pale blue coverings. To her right was Pamoja's dresser at the foot of the bed. On the far wall was a nightstand that had been converted into a cathlo-voodoo shrine. The shrine was constructed in a large wooden box that resembled a pirate's treasure chest, dark wood and brass hardware outside with a blood red satin lining inside. Inside resting on a bed of grass were various offerings and talismans. A voodoo doll in the center of the open lid surrounded by tarot cards and crucifixes, three candles sat unlit in the center of the box, a small bottle of rum surrounded by coins sat to the left of the candles, a statue of the Virgin sat to the right. Deirdre's heart was in her throat as she gingerly stepped around the room. She thought somehow Pamoja, even though far away, could sense that she was in there. She walked over to the dresser and without touching anything looked at the items scattered about it. She bent down to try and peer under and around things, but there were no books or receipts there. She carefully pulled the first dresser drawer open, as silently as a cat burglar she looked in each of the drawers; nothing, just clothes and such. She got down on her hands and knees and looked under the bed. All she saw were a pair of slippers. She opened Pamoja's closet, which was on the opposite side of her bed and looked inside. Frocks, coats, and dresses hung neatly in the closet. She stood as high up on her toes as she could to see into the top shelf of the closet. A hatbox, some scarves, and she thought maybe the hatbox? She cautiously pulled the box down from its perch and lifted the lid. A ladies summer hat sat snugly inside. She replaced the lid and returned the box to the shelf. She turned and looked around the room to see if there was anything she may have missed when her eyes fell upon the shrine. The top of the open box sat high, she thought there had to be something underneath. She lifted the top of the shrine, careful not to upset anything, and underneath she saw a ledger book. Just then she heard a door slam, Pamoja was back! She set the top back into the box and quickly scooted out of the room and down the hall. Pamoja came into the store were Deirdre was nervously sweeping up. "That was a quick trip mum."

"I didn't have to go far today, just needed a few things." Pamoja made her way into her room and reemerged almost immediately. She stood in the doorway angrily glaring at Deirdre who stood frozen in her stare. "You were in my things!"

"No mum, I uh."

"What are you looking for in my things?" she said angrily.

"Nothing."

"You been asking a lot of questions and now you looking through my things. What are you looking for?" Deirdre was transfixed. Pamoja grew angrier. "I'm asking you what you're looking for?" She yelled at Deirdre. Pamoja walked toward Deirdre. Slap! She smacked Deirdre across the face. She had never lifted a hand to her before. Deirdre was in shock. "You had better tell me what's going on right now!"

"It was the man Doug that had come here. He made me do it. He said you were in trouble and he was trying to help." Deirdre said through her tears, breaking down and falling on her knees. Pamoja looked down and noticed the necklace Doug had given Deidre hanging from her neck. She reached down and cupped the pendent in her hand. "I suppose he bribed you with this to betray me?"

"I didn't betray you. He said you were in trouble."

"What else has gone on with this man? Have you been seeing him behind my back?"

"He cares for me!" Deirdre shouted.

"Have you had relations wit dis man?"

Pamoja said in a now more worried and concerned voice than before.

"No, but I know he loves me." Pamoja sat down in her chair relieved.

"But you don't know why girl. Come here and sit next to me. It's time you know the truth about this man. Your right, he has feelings for you, but he doesn't even know why. I worked for his father a long time ago, your mother too. He and your mother were great friends growing up. They spent their childhood together, so when they came of age the natural thing happened and you were the result."

"You mean"

"That's right deary, he's your father. I didn't know your mother was carrying you when I sent her away. What I did know was that a relationship between her and Doug was never going to be allowed to work. There was too much difference in our worlds and Mr. Carlton would never have allowed a half-breed bastard child to interfere with his only son's life."

"He doesn't know?"

"He never knew. When I left his father's employ, I severed all ties to the family."

"Why didn't my mother go to him?"

"Your mother grew to be a very wise woman. She thought that someday when you were grown she would tell him. But, of course, she never got the chance."

Deirdre was in a state of consternation. She got up and walked out the front door and stared up into the sky, trying to get her mind around the news she had just heard. Pamoja was still angry with Deirdre for looking through her things, but decided to let it go. She gave her the space and time she needed to try and understand why she had been kept a secret from her father. Deirdre couldn't help but wonder how her life might have been different if he knew. She couldn't help but think that after a time she would have been accepted by Doug's family and accorded all of the privileges of being a part of that family. Instead of living her life as what amounted to being Pamoja's servant. She stromed back into the store and confronted Pamoja. "You stole my life from me!" She yelled. "I could have had everything, but instead you make me feel like I owe you my life for taking me in after my mother died!"

"Calm down girl, you don't understand."

"I understand all right! Instead of giving me over to my father after mother died, you simply made me your slave. Did it make you feel powerful? Making a slave out of the man's daughter! Is that why you did it, so you could feel some vindication?"

"I did it to protect you from a cold and heartless family who would have rejected you."

"I don't believe you. I know my father now and he's a sweet and caring man. He would never have rejected me!"

"You don't know your father or how he is. Why do you think he came to me after all these years? I can tell you it wasn't to bring me flowers or even to ask about your dear mother, who he was once in love with. It was to cause harm to someone who was standing in his way."

"What?"

"A man was holding up some kind of business deal that he was involved with and he wanted him gone."

"And you helped him with that?"

"Not directly, but I made arrangements for him. That's what he's been trying to get out of you. He wants to know who did the deed. You wanted to know about my business and what it is I do. I think its time for you to grow up a little and understand some of the other aspects of our little business here. You see, people come to me for help with the spirit world, but sometimes we have to mix the spiritual with the physical. You don't think we can afford to live off of the trinkets and things that I sell in this little store do you? We're out in the middle of nowhere girl. How many customers you see in here? We offer special services along with spiritual comfort to help supplement our income. I know people who will do specific jobs for a fee."

"And that's how you make your magic happen?"

"Sometimes, when someone asks for something and the sprit world is slow to move, I intervene so as is looks like the spirits have done their job and no one is the wiser. Everybody's happy." Deirdre's head was spinning. In the last ten minutes she had learned that Doug was her father and that Pamoja was quite possibly a criminal and that not all of the things she believed in were necessarily true. The innocence of her youth was forever shattered. The world she knew was forever changed.

Over the next week Deirdre contemplated what she should do. Should she tell Doug what she knew; how would he react? She looked back on her short life and longed to return to that place a brief time ago where she thought she knew who she was and still felt the innocence that nescience afforded her. Friday came and she knew Doug would be waiting at their rendezvous spot. She begged Pamoja to take her with her this time and not to leave her alone, Pamoja agreed. Doug waited for Deirdre but, of course, she didn't show. He drove past Pamoja's and he could see that the place was locked up tighter than a drum. Another week passed and the same thing, no Deirdre. Doug was beginning to wonder what happened. Had Pamoja caught her? If so, had she told Pamoja what he was up to? Pamoja in the mean time was preparing to deal with Doug. The following Friday Doug was met at the rendezvous site, not by Deirdre, but by some friends of Pamoja. He pulled into the spot in the woods off the side of the road when suddenly out of the woods blocking his escape roared a four wheel ATV, and at the same time two men one on each side walked up to Doug's car. Doug quickly locked his doors. The man on his driver's side reached calmly into the waistband of his pants and withdrew an automatic pistol, which he used to tap gently on Doug's window. Doug rolled the window down, shaking, assuming he was a dead man, he stuttered "Yes?" The man bent down and so Doug could see his face. He was a large black man with a full beard, balding on top. He wasn't an old man, but he wasn't young either. His voice was deep and hollow and he spoke with an East Indian accent. "Allo Doug."

"You know who I am?"

"Of course we do. Step out of the car."

"What?" The man reached into Doug's window and opened the door from the inside.

"I said, step out of da car, man." Doug reluctantly stepped out and stood in front of the man.

"Let's take a little walk." They began walking towards the back of the car, past the rear bumper and into the woods.

"What's this about?" asked Doug.

"You've been asking a lot of questions about things you have no business with."

"That's true, but I can explain!"

"Shut up and keep walking! You have become dangerous to people who tried to help you. By being here you draw attention. You have to go."

"What do you mean I have to go?"

"Shut up and keep walking!" They continued to walk deeper into the woods. Doug looked up at the sun shining through the trees. As they walked deeper into the woods the trees were larger and there was less underbrush. The woods were open and peaceful. He looked up again at the rays of sunlight. The dust danced in the sunlight and reflected hues of green and orange in the air. Then the fear of imminent death began to rise up in the pit of Doug's stomach. He stumbled and leaned against a large oak tree. He looked up facing the tree and was surprised to see what appeared to be an old spot of white paint on the tree.

"Dis place as good as any. You just keep looking at dat tree." Doug felt sick to his stomach, his knees began to weaken and the weakness spread throughout his body into his arms and hands; he thought he might faint. His head was spinning but he could hear the unmistakable click of the pistol being cocked. Had he not been leaning on the tree he would have surely fell to the ground.

"You got any thing to say for yourself, Mr. Doug Carlson?" Doug gasped and tried to talk He could feel his mouth move but the words got stuck in the lump in his throat.

Bang! The gun fired! Doug's stomach tightened and slid down the tree to his knees. His ears were ringing, his skin was on fire, but he was alive.

"Turn around and look at me." Doug put his hands on the ground and held himself up. He turned around slowly and leaned on the tree.

"Can you hear me?" Doug nodded.

"That was a warning. It will be the only warning dat you get. Do you understand? The next time we take you for a walk, you won't be coming back."

"I understand." Doug was beginning to realize that he was going to live.

"We're here to deliver a message."

"What message?"

"A message from Pamoja, that you should stop now while you still can."

Doug was sure now that these were the men that killed Harry. They lifted Doug to his feet and walked him back to his car.

"My friend is going to move out of your way. I would suggest you drive back down to Oxford and don't come back round here no more."

Doug sensed that this guy wanted him to know that he knew where he lived.

"Fine, Tell Pamoja I'll just have to figure some other way. She'll know what I'm talking about."

"I would suggest to you that you forget about it. There's nothing you can do."

With that the man rose up and waived to his comrade on the ATV to pull out of the way. Doug pulled slowly out onto the road and drove off.

XIII

Winter descended on the eastern shore and things seemed to get back to normal in the little town of Oxford. Harry's absence was still noticeable. The void Harry left in the Oaks seemed to create a deafening silence. Bill managed the day to day and handled the books. He noticed that the Oaks had accumulated a fair sum over the summer season and he knew he would be able to see it through the slow winter months.

Doug's experience in the woods caused a noticeable change in him. He was content to let things be, and not worry about Harry or the Oaks or his dream of building a new hotel. For the moment he was happy just to be alive. Doug had had an epiphany, he realized that he came very close to meeting his maker and he wasn't confident that the meeting would have went well. Doug began to reflect more on his life and the things he had done. He had begun to regret what he did and sincerely wanted to make a change for the better. He began spending more time with his father and learning more about his business. He spent more time studying his investments and began to realize the returns that hard work provided. Doug stopped thinking about short cuts and short deals and began thinking more about what his legacy was going to be. I guess you could say that Doug was beginning to finally grow up and become a man. Others noticed it too.

"You know Lacey, six months ago I would have been very reluctant to see this business venture through with Doug, but he seems to have made a real turn around lately."

"I've noticed it too. But remember, this is still Doug Carlson we're talking about. I would still be careful about what I got into with him if I were you."

"I wonder what brought this on. He's a different person. I'm going to call him up and see what he's doing."

"Hello."

"Hey there Doug, it's Skip. What are you up to? Want to go over to the Oaks and get a beer?"

"Yeah, ok."

"I'm going over to meet Doug at the Oaks. You want to come with?"

"No, I'll just hang here."

Skip met Doug at the Oaks. The place was empty so they grabbed a booth away from the bar to have a little privacy. It was winter and the windows were tinted with frost. The water was still, no boats, no watermen, and no tourists. The docks, glistening with ice and frost, were roped off so no one would wander out there and slip. Skip and Doug slid into their booth.

"It's quiet and peaceful here in the winter," said Doug, as he looked out the window over the river.

"It's not like you to notice such things, Doug. What's going on with you? You've been, I don't know, different lately." Doug looked down at his beer and twirled the mug in his fingers on the table.

"I've just realized a few things Skip. I took the time to look at where my life was going and I didn't like what I saw. I realized that all this is temporary, and when its all done, what we have isn't as important as who we are. We're not likely to be remembered for being successful in business or being well off. But we are likely to be remembered for how we treated people and how we were thought of as a person. I think most people learn that at a younger age but I didn't have anyone around to teach me. My mother was gone; my father worked all the time. I had to learn things for myself and I understood things as a child would. A child's only concern is with himself, so I learned to be selfish. I don't want to be that anymore."

"Wow Doug, I've never heard you talk like this before, but you're right, if there was one word to describe you it would be selfish, oh, uh sorry Doug."

"It's ok. Your right and I know it. But that's all going to change. I'm a different person now."

"That's great Doug. But why the turn around, what happened to bring this all on?"

Doug didn't respond. He looked out over the river at the golden sunlight dancing on the cold water and wondered if Harry was out there somewhere. Doug pictured Harry in his mind floating above a concrete block chained to his feet somewhere under the icy river. The image sent chills down his spine.

Harry was out there. But not at the bottom of a river as Doug had imagined. He was still with Ben. Harry woke the next morning to find Ben gone. Ben had been reluctant to leave Harry alone, but as time passed Harry began to feel more comfortable with his surroundings and with Ben. He still had a problem with his memory but he was physically recuperated. Harry wandered out into the living room and found a note.

Dear friend, I've gone hunting and will be back later.

Ben came back around noon, which was sooner then what Harry expected. Harry heard him approaching and went out to meet him. He was dragging a large buck behind him.

"Wow look at that fella!" Harry exclaimed.

"He'll keep us fed all winter. Help me get him around back and we'll hang him."

They drug the deer to the back of the cabin where Ben had a pulley attached to a pole that straddled horizontal between two parallel poles. Ben took a long metal rod and pushed it through the flesh of the deer's legs between his Achilles tendon and his ankle. Then he ran a rope through the pulley and tied it to the rod.

"Ok help me pull him up." They grabbed hold of the rope and pulled the deer up so that he was hanging just off of the ground. Ben took the end of the rope and tied it to a nearby tree.

"Have you ever done this before?" asked Ben

"I don't think so? My memory isn't the best right now, but I think I would remember doing this."

"Don't they hunt where you come from?" Ben was deliberately trying to jar Harry's memory.

"No in Boston we didn't....Hey wait a minute! Boston!! Where did that come from?. Haha well what do ya know about that?"

"It's a start old friend. Now if you just remember your name we might have something to go on. Do you remember what brought you to Maryland, was it business or a woman?"

Harry tried hard to concentrate.

"I don't know. My mind has gone completely blank."

"It's ok. Don't try to rush it. It'll all come back to you in due time. I'm going to slice through the skin around each ankle. I'll start to pull the skin down around the left leg and you do the same to the right and I'll meet you at the tail."

"Ok, you're the boss Ben."

Ben easily pulled down the skin and watched as Harry struggled.

"Hard isn't it?"

"Harder than it looks, that's for sure."

"Grab the skin with your hand and push downward while curling your fist down along the meat, so that you're separating the skin from the flesh as you work your way down and around. Once you get some skin to hang onto it gets a little easier." Harry pushed down hard on the skin and it began to peel away from the deer.

"Here it comes," said Harry.

"That's it now as we pull down toward the butt the rest will come off easily." They both pulled the skin down over the deer's body and stopped at the head. Ben reached in between the skin and flesh on the front leg and pulled the leg out as if he were undressing a sleeping child. With one blow from his knife, whack! He broke the front anklebones and cut of the hoofs. Then he pulled the skin as far up around the neck as he could and removed the head. What was left was a skinned carcass hanging from the pole between the back ankles. Harry thought to himself that it looked so professional that it could have hung proudly in any butchers window.

"What now Ben?"

"Well if it were colder I would let it hang here for a week or two to tenderize a bit. But it's been up in the fifties during the day so I think we'll have to go ahead and cut it up now. Here, hold the leg up" Harry lifted the leg and Ben reached underneath with his knife and with the dexterity of a surgeon separated the shoulder blade and the front leg from the body. He repeated on the other side. He removed the meat from the neck, and worked his way from the ground up until there was nothing left but bone. When he reached the hindquarters he stopped.

"This is where all the real meat is. We'll get enough steaks and chops and bits out of this to eat like kings until spring."

"This is great Ben. I've never seen this done before. Not that I would remember anyway."

"This reminds me of an incident that happened towards the end of the war" Ben said.

"I was a sergeant stationed in the south of France, on a little patch of land that hung out into the sea called Glen. I had a detachment of men assigned to me who were from a nearby Island. They were considered French soldiers but they weren't French. They spoke a language that was more Italian than French. Anyway, we were there to guard the fuel pipelines that ran from the coast inland to the fuel dumps and one night one of the guards came running back from his post out along the lines shouting that he had killed a German soldier near one of the pipelines. The Germans would often try to destroy the fuel lines to disrupt the supply. So we went out to the place were he had been standing guard and found the body. It took everything I had to talk them out of eating this dead German. Meat was a real luxury to us. We hadn't had meat in a long time. I finally had to promise them that if they let me handle the body, I would get them some meat. I had been dating a French girl in the nearby town of LaCapt and her father had some goats. Cost me a half-month's pay worth of cigarettes and chocolate, but I finally got him to give me a goat. I took it back to camp and they tied it down while they prepared a feast. These guys spent the whole next day digging a pit for roasting and getting together all their homemade wine. It was awful stuff, but it was all we had."

"They wanted to eat a human being?"

"They sure did. Had I not intervened they surely would have."

"That's insane. So tell me more about the French girl. What was she like?"

"A girl like most others at the time. I don't know if she really was fond of me or if she just liked the idea of dating a foreign soldier. It didn't hurt that I had an income. It was less than $100.00 a month but at that time and in that part of the world, it was a lot of dough."

"What did she look like?"

"She was a very attractive girl; bright red hair and freckles. I actually had dated her sister first but she was involved with a Captain and I didn't want to get in the middle of that. When she introduced me to her sister she said she was "beaucoup France'."

"What did she mean by that?"

"It meant she was very French. In other words she liked to use her mouth."

"Ohhh, I see."

"Boy did I see. Wow! What a surprise it was for this old farm boy from Maryland to get his first blowjob from a French girl. I didn't even know what a blowjob was!!"

"I'll bet you were scared."

"I was a little nervous I don't mind telling you. I had heard that GI's stationed in France at the time had it in with the girls, but I never saw myself as a ladies man. Still don't." Ben finished cutting away the rest of the meat from the deer. "I'll take the meat into the house and put it in the freezer. You drag the carcass into the woods a good ways and get rid of it. Make sure you drag it a least a hundred yards or so into the woods. The rodents and bugs will take care of the rest."

Harry began to drag the remains of the deer back into the woods. It was cold but he was hot and tired from helping Ben butcher the deer. As he got through the hedges and thorns on the edge of the woods he noticed the woods opening up and it was much easier to walk and drag the carcass. The sun shone down through the trees and Harry began looking around. He felt dizzy and a pain began to creep up the back of his neck and settle in the base of his skull. He squinted and rubbed his eyes. Flashes of memory came back to him. He remembered being pushed and forced through the woods at gunpoint. He could hear the voices in his head telling him to keep moving. Harry stopped and knelt down next to a tree and he remembered the deep voice with the East Indian accent saying "Any last words Harry?" and the loud report of the gun and the pain.

"Harry, my name is Harry, Harry Sheehan!"

Harry reached up and felt the scar on the back of his head with his fingers. A chill ran through him. "I should be dead." Harry let the deer carcass fall to the ground and headed back to Ben's. Harry walked into Ben's house; he was white as a sheet and staring ahead as if he had just awakened from a deep sleep. "Ben I have something to tell you."

"What's that?"

"My name." Ben could see that Harry was shaken up.

"Why don't you sit down first and I'll get us a drink." Ben went over to his cabinet and took out a bottle of bourbon. He grabbed two glasses off of the shelf with one hand and placed them on the table. "I'm just going to get some ice, I'll be right back." Ben went into the kitchen and dropped a hand full of ice into each glass. He kept an eye on Harry while he poured the drinks. Ben walked over to the recliner that Harry was sitting in. He pulled up an ottoman in front of Harry and leaned forward.

"My name is Harry Sheehan. I own a restaurant called the Oaks in Oxford."

"Harry Sheehan, I could have told you, you were Irish. You look a little worried?"

"I remember how I came to get that bump on the back of my head."

"How?"

"I was shot."

"Shot, by who?"

"I don't know."

"I would think a gunshot would have left more than broken skin and a bump."

"So would I. I thought I was a dead man."

"Do you remember what happened; do you want to talk about it?"

"I had been out with a friend of mine on his boat. He had a bottle of good scotch he wanted to share with me. I got kind of drunk and stayed at his place for the night. Early the next morning I was walking home and as I approached my house I noticed a car out front. I didn't think too much of it, but Oxford's a small town; you know everyone's car. So I thought it probably belonged to a tourist who just parked there to walk the street and visit the shops and so on. No big deal. I walked up to the front door and put the key in the lock. When I turned the key I could feel that there was no pressure, in other words the door wasn't locked. When I walked inside one man grabbed me around the mouth and another appeared in front of me holding a revolver. The man with the gun did all the talking. He told me to walk out the door and get in the car, the same strange car I noticed earlier. I remember he had a deep voice with a Jamaican or East Indian accent. I kept asking what it was all about but they wouldn't answer me. I remember driving down route 33 through St. Michaels and we turned left, I can't remember exactly where. We drove down a dirt road, like an old cart path until there were woods on both sides of us. They stopped the car and told me to get out. When they first took me in the car I thought maybe they had been taking me to meet someone, but when I saw the woods my heart dropped right to the bottom of my feet. I began to feel sick. I knew they had brought me there to kill me. I asked them who they were and why they were doing this. I thought maybe they had the wrong guy. I kept telling them 'I'm Harry Sheehan! You have the wrong guy!' but they wouldn't listen. It was like trying to reason with a couple of robots. They just kept pushing me forward, walking me deeper into the woods. Finally they pushed me to the ground and he asked me if I had any last words. I was frozen with fear; my teeth were clenched tight! I couldn't say a word. Then I heard the gun go off. Then everything went black. I remember the sound of the gun. It didn't sound right? Along with the bang there was a very sharp and quick whistle."

"A whistle?"

"That's the only way I can describe it."

"It sounds like a malfunction of some kind Harry. That whistle probably saved your life."

"I would still like to know why someone wanted me dead."

"Were you in some kind of trouble Harry, Gambling or something?"

"No, everything was going very well for me. I didn't have any enemies. I had a lady friend I had been seeing and we were getting quite close. Business was good. I don't understand why someone would have wanted to kill me?"

"We should go to the police. I'm sure there are a lot of people worried about you."

"Yes, but not right away. I'd like to gather my thoughts and try to figure some things out before we do that."

"You're welcome to stay here as long as you like Harry. Harry, it's good to know you Harry." Ben liked the idea of knowing the name of his houseguest.

"Thanks Ben."

"I'm the one who's thankful Harry. I had pretty much given up on my fellow man, but you've caused me to rethink that. I was never really lonely out here all these years by myself, but I think I will be when you're gone."

"Do you have a car Ben?"

"Nope, I manage to get what I need from my boat and the woods around my property. Whatever else I need I get from Doc's."

"Well my place is on the water, and you're always welcome."

"Thanks Harry. If you want we can go over to Doc's in the morning and he will contact the police for us."

"As much as I think I should hold off on that, I think I owe it to everyone else to get back."

"Then it's settled. We'll head over first thing in the morning."

XIV

After spending the day with cops and doctors Harry decided to head home and lay low rather then go to the Oaks that evening. When he walked into his home he was overcome with an eerie feeling. He looked around, taking it all in. Everything he had taken for granted; all the little knick-knacks his wife had collected and placed on shelves around the house, the photographs and pictures hung on the wall. He went from room to room to see if anything was out of place. Everything was just as he had left it.

It was still daylight and it had begun to snow. The sky became a bright grey as the sun illuminated the snow clouds and caused them to appear as though they glowed. Harry poured himself a scotch and headed out to his sun porch. Even with the windows closed it was still a bit cold out there. He plugged in a portable heater, which he placed by his feet. From there he could see the trees that lined the small wood lot behind his house. He sat there as the darkness fell and watched the snowfall. Finally Harry succumbed to sleep and crept off to bed. The sheets were clean and cool as he lay down and drifted off.

The next morning Harry headed down to the Oaks early and opened up. Bill walked in and couldn't believe his eyes. "Harry!"

"Good morning Bill."

"I can't believe it's really you standing here. You are standing here aren't you? I'm not seeing things am I?"

"I'm here in the flesh Bill." Bill was overcome with emotions. He didn't know what to say or where to begin. Harry could see it in his eyes and said: "I guess you'd like to know where I've been eh?"

"That's a good place to start Harry. Where the hell have you been?" Harry told Bill the story of waking up in the woods and of the time he spent with Ben.

"Bill, someone tried to have me killed."

"There's been a lot of speculation around that subject over the past few months Harry. Have you gone to the police?"

"I spent the all day yesterday with cops and doctors, asking me questions, poking and prodding and doing their tests."

"What did they say?"

"They didn't say much. They don't have very many suspects. The only person new in my life was Candy."

"Do you think Candy had something to do with this?"

"I would find it hard to believe. The police said they had spoken to her and didn't think she was lying about anything, but they don't have much else to go on."

"Candy was absolutely distraught Harry. She was broken apart. I can't believe she had anything to do with it. Have you talked to her?"

"She moved back to New Orleans."

"What?"

"That's what her landlady told me. No forwarding address. Just said she couldn't stay here any longer and went."

"Are the police going to try to find her?"

"I don't know what they are going to do. But I don't think so, without some evidence connecting her to the crime."

"Harry, I'm really sorry. First someone tries to kill you and now your girl is gone."

"It's ok Bill. As you can imagine I've had some time to think and maybe I was rushing things a bit with Candy. This might all just work out for the better."

"I think we should have a welcome home party anyway Harry!"

"Now you're talking Bill. Let's do it! But let's wait until the weather breaks. It won't be long until spring and I'd like to kick off the season with a big party. In the mean time, let's not loose sight of the fact that someone tried to kill me. I didn't know the man who pulled the trigger, so that logically would mean that they were hired to do the job. I'm going to keep a low profile for a while."

"I understand Harry."

"You're the only one I really trust Bill, even though you are a suspect."

"What do mean I'm a suspect?" Bill said surprised.

"According to the cops you're the only one with any real motive. You would eventually get this place if something really did happen to me."

"I am?"

"Sure Bill. Who else do I have to leave it to?"

"But I didn't know that."

"And I explained that to the police. Don't worry Bill. I trust you with my life. And by the way I appreciate everything you did while I was gone. The place looks great."

"I had a feeling you would be back. Even when they were searching the river I knew they wouldn't find anything."

"They searched the river?"

"Sure, the last place I remembered you going was down to the river with your drink. So naturally they thought you may have fallen in and drowned."

"Well, yeah I guess that makes sense. The fact is Floyd Tecumseh came by in his old boat with a bottle of scotch and I spent the night drinking and bullshitting with him."

"Say, does he have a skinny old workboat, painted a dark brown."

"Yeah, it's an ugly son of a bitch."

"Well that takes care of that."

"Takes care of what?"

"I actually took the zodiac out to his boat one morning to see who he was."

"He follows the water late into the season. He was probably trapping in the deep water off the point looking for crabs. He's a strange fellow for a waterman, very insightful, very philosophical. He's a great guy to have a drink with, a fine conversationalist."

"Well Harry, I've found that most of these guys who work the water are great guys, and good to have a drink with."

"That's true, but he's different. Watermen are hard working down to earth people. Floyd's more of an eccentric. He wasn't born and raised around here they way most of these guys were. He was a University Professor at Southwestern. I think the contrast of Texas conservatism and his liberal points of view finally conflicted enough to cause him to retreat to the Eastern Shore."

"You would think any University, even the ones in Texas, would house enough liberals for him to be friendly with."

"You would think."

"What about you Harry, where do you fall? My first impression would be that you're a staunch conservative, but I don't know?"

"I guess it depends on the issue Bill. You might say I'm a financial conservative and a social liberal. As a business owner I hate the idea of any government agency coming in and trying to tell me how to run my business, or what I can or can't do with my own place. On the other hand I think people should be able to do whatever makes them happy. We have a gay community here, albeit a small one, I don't begrudge them their pursuit of happiness if you will. What they do or believe doesn't impact me."

"Some people might say they could influence young people or that they're degenerates."

"Look, if they try to impose their way of life on someone or do something that could be considered lewd in public, then yes, I have a problem with that. But you never hear of anything like that happening with them around here."

"That's true I guess. I just get a little creeped out when I see them holding hands or kissing."

"Yeah, I'm with you there Bill. I have to look away when I see that too. Fortunately, I think they understand that and keep that sort of behavior to a minimum in public. There are two sides to every coin Bill. Take Amsterdam for instance, legal prostitution, and legal drugs. Is their crime rate any higher than say Baltimore's? No. "

"So you're in favor of legalized prostitution and drugs?"

"I didn't say that. I'm just using Amsterdam as an example. People are people, your going to have good and bad in every culture. But I will say this. If drugs were decriminalized it would free up a lot of prison space and unclog the court systems."

"So you are a liberal."

"No, I'm just saying that we lock people up for a sickness instead of treating it. I would be in favor of legalizing marijuana. Does that make me a liberal? Its no more harmful than the booze that we sell legally."

"I guess the other side of that argument would be the damage that alcoholism causes. Some people might say alcohol should be illegal."

"They tried that. It was called prohibition. That didn't work. People are going to drink or get high no matter what the law is. Locking people up don't change that. Hell, they even get their drugs into the prisons!"

"So would you sell pot here if it was legal Harry?"

"Damn right I would! We'd have to stop putting free bowls of pretzels and chips out on the bar though. Ha!"

"Think of all the wings and other stuff we'd sell."

Harry was really beginning to feel like his old self again after talking to Bill. It had seemed like so many conversions the two of them had had in the past during the slow winter months.

"Bill I'm going to go home. And I'm going to stay there for a while. Just keep running the place the way you have. Spring is just a few weeks away. I'll come back then. In the mean time don't mention that I was here."

"Ok Harry. Its great to have you back."

There were a number of reasons that Harry wanted to lay low. The most important one was the fact that someone might still want him dead. He also felt a little depressed. He had tried to make sense of Candy's leaving and accept the fact that it may be better to go on without her, but the truth was that he missed her terribly.

XV

The short weeks till spring flew by and the warm air and bright colors of spring instilled in Harry a rebirth of joy. As far as he knew the only ones who knew he was back were the police and Bill. Harry had spent the last few weeks of winter holed up, a self-sentenced prisoner in his own home. At first he was paranoid, carefully watching everyone who came by. Every stranger who walked down the street was a potential killer in Harry's mind. As time went by that feeling changed a bit, after each day he felt a little more comfortable. Finally one warm Saturday he mustered up the nerve to walk down to the ferry dock to look out over the river. It was early and no one was about. He walked quickly from his house to the sidewalk pretending to have been walking down the sidewalk the whole time, hoping no one had seen him leave his house. Every step took effort, constantly looking left and right for any movement, for any one who may have looked out of place. He tried to shake the fear and convince himself that he was safe, but it was impossible. Harry was no coward, but he had been violated. He knew he would never be the same. He wondered if he could ever feel as safe as he once had. He knew, at least until the people who were involved were caught, the answer was no. Never the less he made his way down to the dock and tried to enjoy the warm spring morning. Harry stood looking out over the river. The breeze felt good to him after being cooped up in the house all winter. He closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of the water, and the boats tied up in their slips rocking and shifting with the waves. He could here the gulls calling overhead. Finally he felt a sense of peace. Then suddenly he heard the sound of quick footsteps running up behind him! He turned in panic and looked but saw nothing! He looked down, and at his feet was a handsome blond Labrador retriever. Jesus dog! You about scared me to death. Harry looked again and a jogger went by and called to the dog, "C'mon boy" as he nodded to Harry. The dog ran off to catch up with his owner. Harry's heart pounded in his chest. "That's it! It's the first warm Saturday of the season. The Oak's will be crowded this afternoon. It's time for Harry Sheehan to come back to life."

Harry got ready to face the world for the first time. He impatiently waited for the right time of the afternoon to come. Watching TV, listening to the radio, puttering around the house trying to keep himself occupied. Finally five o'clock came and he decided it was time to go. Harry walked to his front door and stood staring at it. He took a deep cleansing breath and reached for the knob. He hesitated, just for a moment, and with a shaky hand turned the knob and opened the door. Normally Harry would walk the short distance from his house to the Oaks but this time he decided to drive. Harry put the key in the ignition and turned it only to here a click. "Shit! Battery's dead. Well it hasn't been started for a while." Harry took another deep breath and stared down the road towards the Oaks. It had never looked so far away. Harry started walking and as he got nearer to the Oaks he could hear the crowd inside. "Sounds like a good crowd." He said to himself. He stopped short of the door and listened for a moment. He tried to recognize the voices but they all kind of blended together in the din. Harry walked in the door. As people turned to see him enter the place began to fall silent.

"What are you all looking at?" He bellowed. "How about somebody offering me a drink!" The crowd began to roar with excitement as they realized Harry was back and in good spirits. The hugs and slaps on the back and the shaking of hands came, and the welcome backs and where the hell have you beens. Harry took it all in stride. He felt at home. Everyone was happy to see Harry, surprised and curious, but happy to see him. As Harry made his way through the crowd towards the bar he spotted Skip and Lacey. Lacey began to cry and through her arms around Harry's neck. "Oh Harry, we all thought the worst." Lacey was overwhelmed with relief to know he was ok. In the back of her mind she had always suspected that what Doug had her and Candy do had something to do with Harry's disappearance. Skip grabbed Harry's hand. "So good to see you back Harry."

"Thanks Skip."

"Doug should be here soon. I'm sure he'll be glad to see you."

"How is Doug?" asked Harry.

"Funny you should ask. He's fine but different."

"What do you mean different?"

"Its hard to explain. Its like he's found religion or something."

"Doug Carlson?"

"That's right. You'll see when you talk to him. He actually seems humble."

"I always said that there was a decent guy hiding in there somewhere. Didn't I Bill?"

"I'm still not convinced," replied Bill from behind the bar.

"Me neither," added Lacey.

"Look, here he comes now," said Skip.

Doug entered the bar quietly with his hands in his pockets, glancing around the room to see who was there when he spied Skip and Lacey across the room. As he moved nearer he saw Harry turn around to face him. He stopped in his tracks, his face went pale, and his mouth dropped open. "Oh my god." He thought. "How can it be?" Bill glared suspiciously at Doug from behind the bar, noting his every reaction to seeing Harry.

Bill had suspected Doug from the beginning. Everyone was happy to see Harry he thought. Doug was the first one to look scared. Doug approached

"Harry, I can hardly believe you're standing here."

"Hello Doug. It's good to see you too. How have you been?"

Doug couldn't answer honestly. What was he going to say? "Geez Harry I've been wrestling with the guilt of arranging your murder and the fear of almost being murdered myself, then the sudden awareness of my own mortality, which has been driving an ever increasing philosophical viewpoint." Instead, Doug sat down on the nearest barstool and said "fine".

"Beer Doug?" asked Bill.

"Huh, oh yeah, a beer." Doug sat sipping his beer, trying to get a grip on the situation.

"What now?" he thought. "Harry's alive and seemingly well. Where has he been? What the hell happened?"

Doug watched quietly as people came up to greet Harry throughout the evening.

"Doug's hardly said a word," said Harry to Skip.

"I told you. He's different."

"Watch this," said Harry. "I'll bring him out of his shell."

"Hey Doug."

"Yeah Harry?"

"Did you se that trio of young ladies that came in a little while ago. I've noticed them looking over at you and commenting to each other. I think you might have a shot one of them if you play your cards right." Now Harry knew Doug would normally be over there in an instant chatting it up and laying on the charm. But Doug just glanced over at them and shrugged his shoulders. "I hadn't really noticed Harry" and turned back towards the bar. Harry looked over at Skip but Skip just smiled at Harry with an 'I told you so' look on his face.

"I'm going to take off. I'll see you all later. It's great to have you back Harry."

"It's only nine-thirty on a Saturday night Doug; your leaving?" said Harry.

Doug just gave a little wave and headed towards the door. Doug walked outside into the night. It was spring but it was still cold in the evenings. "Well, at least I can say that I'm not a murderer. That's something to feel good about. I'm out a lot of money though and nothing to show for it, but I guess that's where I was to begin with. It's only money. I'll make it back." Doug went home that evening with a sense of relief. "It's good that Harry is ok. Maybe I can forget about what had happened and get on with my life."

Meanwhile back at the Oaks things were winding down. The crowd was thinning out and Harry was enjoying being back in his old place. "Bill, it may take me a little while to get back in the swing of things. I still feel a bit out of sorts."

"That's understandable Harry. If it's any consolation to you, nothing has changed. I kept things going as if you were still here."

"I can't tell you how much I appreciate everything you did while I was gone Bill."

"What are you going to do now Harry?"

"I'm going to try to get back to normal as much as I can."

"Aren't you afraid whoever tried to have you killed may still be out there?"

"More than you can imagine Bill. Having a bullet fired into your head will change your perspective on life quite a bit. I just can't imagine why someone would want to hurt me? I don't have any enemies."

"For what it's worth, I was always suspicious of Doug."

"Why?"

"Just the way he acted while you were gone. He worried more about what the police were up to more than he worried about what happened to you. And he kept asking about what was going to happen to the Oaks, whether it would go up for auction or what. I heard he even called a lawyer to see if he could expedite the process."

Harry was stunned. He had begun to think of Doug as someone he could mentor and have an influence on. But he shrugged off Bill's implication.

"Naaa, I think that was just Doug being Doug, looking for an opening. You know he was interested in buying the place."

"He was more than interested Harry. You remember how he responded when you refused to sell. I wouldn't put it past him."

"The only reason I would entertain that thought Bill is because there's no one else to suspect. But I really think you're wrong. In any case, I've had all the fun I can stand for my first night back. I'm going home."

"You ok? You want me to have someone walk up with you?"

"What am I a woman? No! I can see myself home." Harry was more than a little fearful about walking home at night, but he wasn't about to let Bill know it.

"Ok Harry, I didn't mean anything by it. You've just been through a lot, you know?"

"I know; I'm ok Bill. Goodnight."

Harry walked back through the kitchen and out the back door, which was unusual. Normally he would leave via the bar door, but he didn't want anyone who might be watching to notice him leave. Harry stepped out onto the loading dock and looked around to see if anyone was out there. Then he quietly stepped down and inconspicuously headed up toward the street. Armed with alcohol-induced bravado Harry marched at a quick pace towards home. He quickly walked up to his front door and went inside. Then he immediately looked out the window and scanned in every possible direction to see if he had been followed. He looked to the right, back up the street where he had come from and the street was silent, not a thing moving, not even a stray neighborhood cat could be seen. He breathed a sigh of relief, but he wasn't quite finished yet. He walked into each room of the house turning on the lights to make sure the house was empty. Once he was convinced he fixed himself a nightcap and headed for bed.

XVI

Harry had been thinking about the things that had happened over the past few months. He was wondering when he was going to be able to get back to feeling normal. The next morning Harry decided he was going to do a little detective work of his own. But before he could get out the door the phone rang.

"Hello"

"Mr. Sheehan, this is detective Polk of the Maryland State Police. I was wondering if you had some time this morning to go for a ride with me."

"Its funny you should call. I was planning to take a ride myself and see what I could remember about being abducted. I was going to have to charge my car battery first. It died while I was away."

"No problem, I'll come by and pick you up. How does ten o'clock sound?"

"Fine, I'll see you then."

Harry went out to his car with a battery charger and hooked it up while he waited for Detective Polk to arrive. Sure enough, at ten o'clock sharp he pulled up in front of Harry's in a dark brown Ford Crown Victoria, an unmarked police car that anyone with any sense would recognize as a police car a mile away. Detective Polk got out and introduced himself to Harry.

"I don't know if you remember me? We actually met a few weeks ago."

"Sure, I remember."

"What I'd like to do Mr. Sheehan is retrace your steps as best we can to see if we can find any clues that might aid us in the investigation."

"Well that's fine but you're going to have to do one thing for me first."

"What's that Mr. Sheehan?"

"Stop calling me Mr. Sheehan. My name is Harry."

Detective Polk smiled. "Ok Harry it is."

Harry and detective Polk got in the car and drove off.

"Head out towards St. Michaels, down route 33."

They drove through the town of St. Michaels, past the Orvis Store, the maritime museum, and Big Al's Market past the end of town.

"You have to understand detective that I was under a lot of stress. I wasn't paying too much attention to where I was being taken. We turned left a mile or so outside of town down a dirt road."

"You think you would recognize it if you saw it again?"

"Hard to say, maybe, I know we made a left onto a paved road and then another left onto a dirt road."

"There's not much out here but there are a number of old cart paths through the woods near these old farms. I'm going to make a left up ahead. It's the only paved road for a while."

"Everything looks the same, its all farms and woods. Wait stop!"

Polk stopped the car.

"Right back there, that old sign, I remember seeing that."

Polk backed up to where they could read the sign. It was the remnants of an old wooden Sign lying on its side in a drainage ditch, barely supported by its base, that upon very close inspection one could read "Bozman Oyster Company". Just beyond the sign was an overgrown cart path that if you didn't know was there you would never see.

"I think this may be it."

"I'm glad you saw that sign. There's no way I would have seen that old cart path from the road."

Detective Polk turned gingerly onto the cart path and drove slowly across the short field and followed it into the woods were it was not overgrown nearly as much. They drove just a few hundred yards into the woods and Harry told him to stop. There were two large pine trees with a large gap between them. They stood like Jachin and Boaz at the gates to the temple, with a clear path in between. "Let's take a walk." Said Polk

Harry was a little nervous as he got out of the car and repeated what he once thought would be his last few steps.

"Hold on Harry. I want to get something out of the trunk." For a brief moment the thought ran through Harry's mind that this detective Polk might not be who he said he was. "What if he's with them? Has he brought me out here to finish the job?"

"Got it."

"What is it?" said Harry?

"Metal detector, if there's anything out here it'll help us find it under the leaves and so forth."

Harry felt relieved, and a little silly at himself for thinking what he did.

"How far back into the woods did they take you Harry?"

"Not terribly far, maybe a hundred yards or so?"

"Does anything look familiar? Did you veer off of this deer trail at all?"

"No we walked straight back."

Detective Polk was waving his metal detector back and forth along the ground as they walked.

"Is there anything you can tell me about the men who brought you here that's not in the report you gave?"

"No."

"Are you sure? Sometimes after a little time passes things come back to you."

"When you guys interviewed me I gave you everything I could remember. Do you have any idea who they could be?"

"With cities like Baltimore and Washington so close it's almost impossible. The description you gave fits a hundred suspects."

"I gotta tell you Polk, the fact that they're still out there somewhere makes me nervous."

"I heard you went back to your place of business last night."

"I can't live like a hermit."

"I understand, and you're right to try and put this behind you as best you can. Just be aware of your surroundings."

"Believe me, I'm aware."

"I think we've done all we can do here. I'm going to bring a forensics team out here to do a sweep and see if they left anything behind. I'll let you know if we find anything."

"There's one more thing."

"What's that Harry?"

"Bill, the bartender that works for me said something that had me thinking."

"What was that?"

"It's probably nothing, just Bill being overly suspicious. But he said Doug Carlson was acting strangely after I disappeared."

"Had you had problems with this Doug Carlson?"

"Yes and no. I had mentioned at one time that I was thinking of retiring and he wanted to buy the place along with a friend of his, Skip Patterson. We had sort of an argument when I told him I wasn't ready to sell."

"Sort of an argument?"

"Yeah, he got out of line and I kind of knocked him down."

"I see."

"We patched things up afterwards and we actually became closer. I was sort of mentoring him."

"I'll look into it."

"Don't cause him any trouble; he's really a decent kid."

"Don't worry."

Detective Polk took Harry home. The following week Detective Polk returned to the woods with the forensic team. Soon afterward he called Harry.

"Mr. Sheehan this is Detective Polk."

"What did I tell you about that Mr. Sheehan stuff?"

"Sorry, Harry. We found something out in the woods."

"What was it?"

"Can you come to the barracks in Easton?"
"Sure."

Harry drove up to Easton and met Detective Polk who took him to an interview room and showed him what they had found.

"We found this .22 caliber revolver in the woods near the two Pine trees. They must have discarded it after."

"Why would they do that?"

"It's not unusual. They get a cheap gun, use it once and dump it. But here's the interesting part. The chamber in the pistol is for magnum rounds, which are slightly larger than regular rounds. The gun was loaded with regular long rifle rounds. When it was fired all the force that would normally fire the projectile or bullet out of the barrel was directed around the bullet instead of behind it. The force of the blast went out the sides of the chamber instead of pushing the bullet through the barrel. It's a wonder the bullet ever left the gun. It must have just had enough pressure behind it to knock you unconscious, but not enough to penetrate your skull."

"My daddy always said I was thick headed."

"Good thing too."

"We also found this." He held up a .22 caliber round that had been flattened in the front. "We found it next to a tree in the woods about hundred and fifty yards from the cart path. Ballistics matched it to the gun. Harry, this is the bullet that was meant to kill you."

Harry took the bullet in his fingers and stared at it. He looked at it from all angles and sat it back on the table. He leaned back in his chair and reached up to feel the scar on the back of his head.

"That little thing could have done me in?"

"Oh yes. If they would have loaded magnum rounds in that chamber it almost surely would have."

"Just doesn't seem possible, something that small."

"When a projectile like this is fired into someone's skull it tends to bounce around in their head a bit before it comes to rest; does a lot of damage."

"I feel like I'm looking back from the grave. Does this get us any closer to finding out who did it?"

"Not necessarily, the gun is probably cold. In other words it can't be traced. But when we do have a suspect it may help us put them away. By the way I also followed up on Doug Carlson. It turns out the sheriff's department interviewed Doug and it was a dead end. Unless you think there's something concrete that we should be talking to him about I'd rather just let him be. If he has something to do with it, chances are he'll do something to reveal it."

"No, I don't have anything other than Bill's suspicious mind."

"Anything else come up since we last talked? Have you heard from Candy Bruyere?"

"No I haven't heard from Candy."

"Ok then I think we're done hear for now. I appreciate you coming out here to see us. Let us know if anything develops that you think we should know about"

XVII

Things eventually got back to normal at the Oaks. Harry eventually began to feel more comfortable. The weather was getting warmer and the crowds at the Oaks were starting to grow. The summer season had begun, but there was no sign of Doug Carlson. Harry wondered about Doug but Harry had been around a long time and Doug wasn't the first person he'd known to change his direction in life. In some ways Harry felt that he might have even been somewhat responsible, and was a little pleased with himself for Doug's turnaround.

The truth about Doug wasn't so much that he didn't want to hang out at the Oaks with Skip and his friends, but that he couldn't stand seeing Harry, knowing what he had done. So Doug decided to spend his time doing other things. He took up bicycling and joined a riding club, joined a spin class, spent more time focusing on his investments. He simply found other things to do. Doug would go to a movie or read a book. He found a quiet way to live his life and put the past behind him. And as fate would have it Doug managed to catch the eye of a very attractive young lady by the name of Rebecca Winslow. Doug and Rebecca met while Doug was at the gym for his spin class and they immediately hit it off. Rebecca was a breath of fresh air to Doug. She wasn't the kind of girl he was usually attracted to. She was pretty, but not in a conventional way. She was medium height, around five, five, with medium brown hair that she wore in a ponytail. Her face was roundish and she wore round glasses with dark rims that on anyone else's face might look too big, but fit hers just right. She had a slender waist and somewhat narrow hips that curved up to more than ample breasts. Doug was struck by her the very first time they met. Literally, she accidentally hit him in the stomach with a wrench she was using to adjust the seat on her stationary bike. She turned the nut on the seat, the wrench slipped off and her arm swung behind her and pow, right in the gut! She quickly turned around with her empty hand to her mouth, the other still holding the wrench.

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" Doug doubled over trying to catch his breath.

"That's ok. I'm fine." Doug slowly dropped to the floor, kneeling on one knee. He looked up into her bright blue eyes. She gently grabbed his arm and helped him up.

"I can't believe I hit you. I'm so sorry and so embarrassed. I'm such a klutz sometimes."

"I'm ok. You just knocked the wind out of me."

"Come sit down over here. Can I get you anything, a bottle of water?"

"That would be nice, thank you."

"I haven't seen you here before, are you new to this gym?"

"Pretty new, I joined a couple of weeks ago, but just started the spin class."

"Oh, where did you go before?"

"I didn't, this is my first time joining a gym."

"Well you could have fooled me. You look like you're in pretty good shape."

"Thanks, I try to take care of myself."

"What made you decide to join a gym, are you looking to build muscle or just stay fit?"

"I'm looking to fight boredom. I recently started working with my father and its more demanding than I expected."  
"Oh, what do you do?"

"I'm an investment broker; how about you?"

"I'm a pediatric nurse."

"That's nice. You like working with kids then?"

"I love it!"

"Do you have any of your own?"

"No, I haven't had time for relationships; how about you?"

"Nope."

"Married?"

"No"

"Gay?"

"No, I'm not gay either." He said a little amused.

"How does a good looking, straight young man with a career manage to avoid getting married?"

"Somehow it hasn't been that hard. I guess I just never really had a long term relationship."

"I'm really sorry about hitting you with that wrench, but you seem to be ok now. It was nice meeting you." Rebecca got up to leave.

"Hey, wait a minute. I don't even know your name?"

"It's Rebecca, but don't call me Rebecca. It's Becky or Becca, but not Rebecca. It sounds so formal."

"Can I call you sometime?" Now Doug was the one feeling klutzy. This wasn't like him. He was usually much smoother than this.

"Sure." Becky replied as she walked into the locker room.

"WAIT I DIDN"T GET...your....number." But she had gone. Doug dashed into the men's locker room and jumped in the shower. He lathered and washed and dried in record time. He got changed as quickly as possible, thinking he might have a chance to catch her before she left. Doug waited in the parking lot watching the door, but she never came out. "How could I have missed her?" he thought.

He went back into the gym and up to the manager, who was herself a very attractive Barbie doll blonde, the type Doug would normally have been attracted to.

"Uh, hi. I was wondering if you could help me."

"Hi, oh I think I could." She replied flirtatiously.

Doug looked down trying to ignore her flirting. "Do you know a girl named Rebecca that comes in here?"

"We have a lot of members. I don't remember all of their names." She looked down at her schedule, a little put off that Doug obviously wasn't interested.

"She's a little brunette with glasses, thin, with kind of a round face." She looked back at him with a curious if not confused look.

"Is she your sister or something?" Not believing Doug would be interested in a girl like the one he had just described.

"No, I just was wondering if you could give me her number. You see."

She cut him off abruptly.

"We're not allowed to give the out personal information of our members."

"Do you know where she lives?"

"If I did I couldn't tell you."

"Well do you know how often she comes to the gym?"

"I don't even know who she is. She sounds like any of twenty women who come in here. Now I'm going to have to ask you to go. I have work to do."

Doug may have gone through some changes in the way he sees things lately but his tenacity was still intact. He changed tactics.

"Look I was trying to find her because I think she may have accidentally picked up one of my wrist weights and I'd like to get it back. What's your name by the way?"

"Barbie." (It figures, right?)

"Wow just like the doll, and just as pretty."

"Thank you." Barbie replied with a smile.

"Barbie, I know you're not allowed to give out personal information, but I would really like to get that weight back. Is there anything you can do for me?"

"I'm really not supposed to." She said sheepishly.

"Please, I promise I'm not a stalker. Look at me, do I look like a stalker."

"No, you're too cute to be a stalker." Barbie whispered as she leaned across the podium towards Doug.

'Then how about helping me out?" he whispered back.

"Alright, but you didn't get it from me, got it!"

"I got it."

Barbie gave Doug Rebecca's phone number.

"I'll just give you her number. That way if you do turn out to be a stalker you won't know where she lives."

"Fair enough, Thanks Barbie. What's this on the back?"

"That's my number."

"Ohhhh, ok." He smiled and turned away. Doug was still Doug. He knew how to get what he wanted. Freshly charged with some of his old confidence Doug whipped out his cell phone and began to dial. "No, I should wait." He thought. "I don't want to appear too anxious. I'll wait a couple of days." Doug called the following Wednesday. He figured that would be early enough in the week for her not to have made plans yet, but not too close to the weekend to feel like a last minute thing. He thought if he waited too long she might think she's a second choice or that he was just calling her because some other plans fell through. First dates were Doug's specialty, mostly because he rarely had a second one. His usual plan of attack was an upscale restaurant, the kind where all the yuppies take their friends to impress them, loud places filled with young professionals crammed into small tables where they served you small portions of expensive and often mediocre food; then a jazz club where he could set the right mood over a few drinks and back to his apartment to seal the deal. The next day, sayonara baby! But he didn't want to come on too strong this time. He wanted to take it slow and really take the time to get to know Rebecca. He decided he would talk to her for a while and try and find out what she likes, instead of just trying to dazzle her. So Wednesday night came and Doug settled into his recliner and dialed the number.

"Hello Rebecca?"

"There's no one here who likes to answer to that name."

"Oh Right, I mean Becca."

"That's better."

"Hi this is Doug. We met last week at the gym."

"Oh Hi. How are you, is your stomach ok?"

"Yes, of course. How are you?"

"Great, well not great, kind of angry."

"Why?"

"I just got off the phone with my mother. She's nags me to death. What am I doing, where have I been, why haven't I called, am I seeing anyone? She just goes on and on."

"Oh, maybe I should call back."

"If you waited for her to stop, you would have to wait forever. No, its ok, she's just being a mother. Is your mother the same way?"

"Actually, I lost my mother when I was young."

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. Now I feel awful for saying those things about my own mother. I should appreciate her more, and I do, she gets to be too much."

"Its ok, I understand. You don't have to stop having a mother just because I did."

"How old were you?"

"I was about six. I don't remember a lot about her. I remember she was pretty, with long sort of sandy blonde hair. She was a lot younger than my dad. I remember her tucking me in at night. How she would look at my face and smile, and kiss her hand then touch my forehead before she said goodnight."

"That's so sweet. It's nice that you can still remember her."

"Yeah, I sometimes can't help but wonder how much different my life might have been if she hadn't died."

"Did your father re-marry?"

"No, I think by the time my mom passed away he had lost interest. Mostly the people who worked for my Father raised me. So anyway, I was wondering if you're doing anything this weekend?"

"No, what did you have in mind?"

"I didn't really have a plan; I thought I'd leave it up to you."

"You call a girl for a date and you don't have a plan, Sounds a little sloppy if you ask me."

"Here's my thinking, I want to get to know you but I don't want to take you places just to try to impress you, that's too easy."

"Oh it is, is it?"

"I don't mean to say that your easily impressed or not worth the effort, on the contrary, I think your worth taking the time to get to know, so I don't want to bore you with the same date you've been on a million other times with a million other guys."

"A million?"

"I'm sure I'm exaggerating."

"So you want me to decide what we should do and where we should go?"

"If you want to?" She thought for a moment.

"I don't think so. You don't get off that easy. I like the idea of something other then dinner and a club or whatever, but you're calling me for a date, so I think it's up to you to figure out what that date is going to consist of."

"Ok, ok, I understand your point of view. How about this, I'll pick you up Saturday morning at say, ten and we'll take a ride into St. Michaels and walk through the shops and then have some lunch and we'll just play it by ear from there. How's that sound?"

"I do love the little antique shops and stores. Maybe we could visit the winery?"

"That sounds great. I'll pick you up at ten."

"Ok."

Doug had pursued a lot of women over the years but only as a means to an end. He had never given any thought to the ideas of a long-term relationship until now. But he wanted this to be different. Doug was feeling restless after his chat with Becca, so he decided to head over to the gym for a while. The gym that Doug belonged to was called ' _The Breakwater Health and Fitness Cente_ r'. To call it a gym is really a misnomer. A gym is a place where over developed men go to lift heavy weights and sweat. The Breakwater had been designed to cater to a more diverse crowd. The ground floor consisted of an Olympic size pool that was divided into three sections. One whole half of the pool was for swimming laps and recreational swimming; the other half was divided again in two. The first half had been fitted with two levels of diving boards and a large dive platform over a twelve-foot deep section of the pool. The remainder was the shallow section for the young children and for giving swimming lessons. This section had steps that led down into three feet of water for easy and safe access and a water slide. To the left of the large pool was a doorway that led to a room with a smaller pool used for water therapy. This pool was often filled with older folks trying to keep their joints moving and their muscles toned as well as those whose doctors had recommended water therapy. To the right of the therapy pool were the saunas and steam rooms. Behind the steam rooms were the locker rooms and showers, as well as the stairs that lead up to the second floor. At the top of the spiral stairs to the left were weight machines, rowing machines, stationary bikes, free weights, treadmills, stair masters etc., and to the right was a door that led to an outdoor pool and sun deck. As Doug walked in the front door an up to the podium to check in, he saw Barbie standing there. He hesitated a moment before he walked up and prepared himself. "Ok, here we go." He said to himself.

"Hi Barbie."

"Hi." Barbie looked up to see Doug. "So, did you get your stuff back from that girl?"

"Oh, uh, I called and left her a message."

"You called her, but you haven't called me yet."

"I didn't want to appear too anxious."

"Well you better hurry up before I fill my calendar, and then I won't have any time for you."

"Ok." Doug was trying to be nice, but he was a little put off by Barbie's over confidence. Doug imagined that she was used to getting her way with men. After all, she was a beautiful and sexy girl. She'd probably spent most of her life watching men fall over each other trying to get to her. And not long ago Doug would have been one of them. But now it was different. Doug all of the sudden was able to look past her long blonde hair and big tits and see how empty she was. Trying to earn the affection of a girl like Barbie was like trying to catch water in a net. It clings to the strings just enough to get it wet, but ninety nine percent of it falls right through. And the minute you ease up or loose interest she moves on. Doug realized that was one of the things he used to like about those types of girls; they were easy to walk away from.

"So when are you going to call me?" she said.

"Oh, to be honest, I'm kind of jammed up right now. I don't know when I'm going to have any time." Barbie was perplexed by Doug's lack of interest and looked at him strangely.

"You run sort of hot and cold don't you?"

"I'm sorry. It's not you really. I've just been going through some things lately and I've been a bit distracted."

"I bet I could raise your concentration level of a little."

"I'll bet you could at that." Barbie slowly walked out from behind her podium and stood in front of Doug. She moved in close to him, Doug could feel her breasts brushing up against his chest, her nipples erect and her breath on his neck. He felt a rush of warmth fill his face.

"I don't like to take no for an answer." She whispered in Doug's ear. Then she turned away, giving Doug a sly smile, and stepped back behind her podium. Doug stood for a second watching her. All those old feelings came rushing back. His mind was racing. I could have her if I wanted her. It wouldn't be hard. Dinner, drinks a few little compliments and innuendos. I could seduce her and nobody would know. No! What am I thinking? This isn't what I want. Doug took a deep cleansing breath, gave her a smile and walked away toward the locker rooms. Doug went into the locker room and sat on the long wooden bench that runs the length of the lockers. Barbie kept playing on his mind. He hadn't been with a woman for a long time and he was ready for some female company, if only for one night. He kept thinking about Becca, but he didn't even know her, he thought. They hadn't been on a single date yet. He wasn't committed to anyone. What would she have to be angry about even if she did find out? Doug shook off the notion and tried to forget about Barbie. He got undressed and wrapped a towel around himself and sat back down on the bench. He was alone in this big empty locker room. He couldn't shake the image of Barbie whispering in his ear, her body against his. He reached under the towel and felt his now hard cock and gave it a good squeeze. "Oh shit! That feels good." He said to himself. He slowly stroked it under the towel, squeezing and imagining Barbie sliding her face down his chest and over his stomach, licking and teasing him before taking him deep into her mouth. He imagined his fingers were her lips sliding up and down the shaft of his cock. He closed his eyes and pictured Barbie lying nude in front of him. Writhing and moving her legs across each other in ecstasy, begging him "Fuck me Doug, Fuck me now!" He looked at her soft tan skin, and perfectly plump little mound, full breasts and dark red areolas. He continued to stroke his throbbing hard cock, imagining her tight, wet vagina clamped around him. "Oh fuck, I can't do this here. I have to stop." Doug opened his eyes and looked around to make sure he was still alone. He let himself go and tried to relax. "Ok, ok. I need to get my mind off of this." He stood up and made his way into the shower and turned on the cold water. The cold water rushed over his face and down his body. It was like he was putting out a brush fire that had been burning on his skin. He steadied himself on the wall of the shower and let the water cascade over him.

"How you doing?" An elderly man who had just walked into the shower room startled Doug.

"What! Oh, ok." Doug turned away so the man wouldn't see his was still partially aroused.

"Have a good work out? You must have been up in the gym; I didn't notice you in the pool?"

"Actually, I just got here a few minutes ago."

"You shower before you work out?"

"Sometimes. It helps me cool down before I heat up."

"Whatever works? Hey did you get a load of that blonde out at the reception area? Just seeing her is enough of a workout for me."

Doug, beginning to relax, laughed to himself.

"I know what you mean."

Doug finished his shower and headed up to the gym for a work out. Doug poured his energy into his workout and after an hour of weightlifting and riding the bike he decided to head out onto the sun deck to relax. He dried himself off with a towel as he walked out onto the deck and grabbed a chair. He threw the towel over the chair and walked over to the snack bar to get a drink. Doug lay back in his chair and threw the towel over his eyes and began to relax when he felt a shadow blocking the heat of the sun. He pulled the towel back over his left eye just enough to peek out and see Barbie standing over him. She was blocking the sun and the rays illuminated her silhouette but he could see her clearly. She was wearing a white pleated skirt that stopped six inches above her knees and a light blue T-shirt that left her taught abdomen exposed.

"You look good all pumped up and sweaty." Doug didn't respond but just kept looking up at her. "It's really been slow today. Hardly anyone's here, so I thought I would take a walk around."

"Oh, who's watching the desk?"

"Debbie, from the office." Doug's heart was beginning to pound. Was she hinting at something? "So how long do these little walks of your usually take?"

"As long as I want them to, Debbie's in no hurry to get back to her desk." Doug thought that's an invitation. You know if I were interested in her she probably wouldn't even talk to me.

"Why don't you come on my little walk with me? I can show you around."

"I know my way around."

She bent down and rested both hands on her thighs and whispered "But I know all the quiet places." Doug took the towel down from his face and sat up, sitting sideways on the chair. Barbie moved over in front of him and stood over him with one leg between his. She stroked his head with her hands. Doug was starring right into her bare mid drift. It was perfect, like a wavy beach that begged you to dig in. Doug instinctively lifted his hands to her sides and felt the curves of her firm hips. He slid his hands down her thighs and back up under her skirt. She quickly backed away.

"Not so fast there cowboy," she said. And she turned and walked away. Does she want me to follow her? What the hell is she doing?

"Where are you going?"

"I have to get back to work." Doug's head was spinning. What the fuck just happened here? Doug was confused. She practically begged me to follow her somewhere, then jumped when I was about to give in. He thought about her standing there, how her hands felt on his scalp, and how she smelled. He put his hands over his nose and took a deep breath; he could still smell her. Doug got up and headed for the locker room. This time he didn't have enough strength left to give Barbie much thought. It was obvious to Doug what the deal was. He wasn't interested in her, so she had to prove to herself that she was still attractive by seemingly throwing herself at Doug. Once he reacted, mission complete! Its' all for the best anyway, I'm not really interested in her. But man does she turn me on! Doug got showered and dressed and slipped out one of the side doors so he wouldn't have to deal with Barbie again and headed for home.

Home was new for Doug. He had moved out of his apartment and into his father's guesthouse. It was all part of his decision to change for the better. He thought the old bachelor pad was nice but it didn't lend itself to the new lifestyle he wanted to lead. By moving into the guesthouse he would be closer to his father and closer to his work. The guesthouse had a homier feel to it than the apartment did. It was just an old one-bedroom Cape Cod, but it sat far enough away from the main house that you never felt intruded upon. The house was grey siding with a black shingle roof, and old maroon wooden shutters. The grounds were well landscaped, as was everything on his father's property. And there was a separate driveway leading up to the back of the house. The house had been kept furnished. There was a large old sofa in the living room that was covered with a henna colored paisley print. Two cherry wood chairs with deep red leather seats, which were held down with brass tacks, sat on either side facing each other across a large cherry coffee table. A large open-hearth fireplace, with an enormous mantle adorned the far wall. The walls were painted medium leaf green and the trim was all natural wood that accented the furniture. French doors and an abundance of windows allowed the sunlight to fill the room, so it never looked dark; the place always felt warm and comfortable. The new surroundings helped Doug forget about all the trouble he had with the Harry situation and the Oaks. Sometimes he felt like he was hiding from his old life and friends but he needed this time alone to sort things out. The ambition he had once had, the restlessness, was gone. He felt a peacefulness here that he hadn't known before. Doug sat back in his recliner and drifted off to sleep.

"Do you have any last words?" he heard the deep voice with the West Indian accent. "Keep moving". It was dark, heavy branches and brush hit him in the face as he was being forced through the woods. He stumbled and fell into the mud, he turned to look up but all he could see were several dark hooded figures with glowing white eyes staring down at him. There was nothing behind them, no trees, no sky just blackness. They moved in closer and began to smother him. He covered his face and screamed! Doug woke up in a cold sweat, panicked! It had been a dream. He looked around the room, now dark. "What time is it?" he wondered. He picked his watch up off the end table and looked at it, 3am. Doug rubbed his eyes and tried to shake off the images in his dream. He closed his eyes but all he could picture were these creatures staring down over him. Unable to sleep he walked over to the French doors and pulled up a kitchen chair. He stared out into the darkness. His father's property wasn't remote, but it was private. He looked out over the road past the driveway towards the woods that lined a farm field on the other side. He would never look at the woods the same way again. He knew they would always remind him of his walk in the woods, and Harry's. Guilt wasn't an emotion Doug was used to dealing with. He wasn't quite sure how to handle it. Would it eventually go away? Would he have to confess his sins in order to exorcize his demons? Or was this his penance for what he'd done and would he just have to live with the guilt? Doug felt genuine remorse. He went into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of bourbon from the cabinet. He poured himself a drink, his hands still shaking from the terrifying, haunting dream. He walked back over to the French doors and thought about going outside. He reached for the knob but stopped short of turning it. Fear was still running through him and he couldn't quite bring himself to sit outside alone in the dark. He decided he would enjoy the quiet from inside the locked door.

XVIII

Doug met Becca as arranged at her apartment and they headed into St. Michaels. St. Michaels consists of one main street, route 33 or Talbout Street, which enters town at one end from inland and exits town at the other end heading out towards Tilghman Island and the end of the peninsula, with a number of side streets branching off in town. Doug parked at the far end of town near the maritime museum. "I figure we can work our way up one side of the street and back down the other," said Doug.

"Sounds good to me."

It was a bright and sunny morning as they walked along Talbout Street looking through the antique shops and specialty stores; admiring all of the nautical nick knacks and crab shaped oddities that adorned the store windows. They stopped in one of the many little outdoor cafes and ordered lunch. After they had finished eating they sat outside and watched the tourists stroll leisurely up and down the street, some stopping to look in store windows, kids carrying hand dipped ice cream cones, the summer sun melting the ice cream down their hands faster then they could lick it off.

"I just love people watching," said Becca.

"I've never really just sat and watched people before but you know it is kind of interesting."

"I always wonder about the people I see. Who they are? Where they come from? What they do?"

"But how can you know any of that?"

"I can't. So I do some detective work in my head to figure them out."

"Oh, is that so?"

"Sure, for instance, see that woman over there by the gift shop. She's visiting from somewhere up north."

"How do you know that?"

"Well for one thing she's wearing a big flowery dress that has to be way too hot for the middle of the summer in Maryland. She's pale and heavy, so it doesn't look like she gets out much, and look at those hideous five and dime sunglasses." She was wearing big plastic sunglasses with black lenses.

"Is that all?"

"No, I'm just getting started. She's wearing flip flops, which tells me she's not used to doing a lot of walking, and her hair is dark black. Either she just dyed it or she doesn't get out in the sun."

"Ok detective Becca, anything else you can conclude from across the street?"

"I'd say that skinny little man with the thinning hair walking behind her, carrying all those bags is her husband."

"Ok, I'll buy that."

"He looks like he's going to have a stroke."

"She won't allow it. Who would carry her bags?" From across the street they could hear the lady barking commands at her husband. "Keep up Bernard! Don't drop my lighthouse!" She had evidently bought a rather large and tacky lighthouse lamp that the feeble little man was having some trouble managing along with all of her other stuff. He would take a few steps and stop to re-adjust himself or try to catch a breath. He looked utterly exhausted.

"What a miserable existence he must have," said Doug.

"Oh, you never know. He probably worships the ground she walks on."

"Or maybe she just provides him shade in the summer."

"Oh! That's an awful thing to say," Becca said laughingly.

"What about that young couple over there?" Doug pointed out a young couple sitting on one of the benches along the street. They stared into each other's eyes and were completely oblivious to everything and everyone around them.

"Must be newlyweds."

"He should get a load of that poor guy we just saw playing pack mule to his wife. That might scare him back into reality."

"Don't be like that. Not all marriages wind up bad."

"Right, only fifty percent."

"Oh, so you're against the idea of marriage are you?"

"No, I'm just a natural born cynic."

"Given the odds, cynicism might be idealistic."

"I'm in the midst of a philosopher. So miss Aristotle, what are your views on the subject, do you see yourself getting married some day?"

"Maybe, if the right guy came along at the right time. I'm not one of those girls who grew up daydreaming about their wedding day. I always thought it was such a waste of time. All of my girlfriends growing up dreamt of their wedding day, and how beautiful and spectacular it would be. So what does that mean? Everything before and after is meaningless? It's just one event on one day! I think it would be nice to have someone to share my life experience with though, how about you."

"Before recently I never gave it much thought."

"Never?"

"Not ever."

"I can't imagine that in all your life there hasn't been one girl who's made you think about romance and marriage. Haven't you ever been in love?"

"I thought I was once when I was about fifteen."

"Who was she?"

"She was a girl I grew up with; my first."

"You're first what?"

"My first everything."

"What happened?"

"She moved away suddenly. I didn't know where, or how to get a hold of her and I was only fifteen, what could I have done?"

"Were you heartbroken?"

"Yes, I was devastated. But my father and our housekeeper kept me so busy in the months that followed; I didn't have time to really think about it. They convinced me that it was for the best and that I was too young. You know how it goes at that age. How about you, ever come close?"

"Never really close to getting married, I had a boyfriend in college, and it was quite serious, but the timing wasn't right and I never really pictured myself with him for the long term."

"But how could it be serious if you didn't consider him for the long term?"

"Everything was great about our relationship as it was, but his idea of what life would be like beyond college didn't agree with what I wanted."

"How so?"

"He was very conservative and wanted to pursue a political career. I didn't agree with him on certain issues that he thought were very important. I guess I just decided I was too liberal for him."

"You didn't think you could work things out? I mean, I think its ok to have a difference of opinion on some things. I think every couple must disagree on some issues."

"I didn't like who he was turning into. As we got closer to graduation he started attending rallies and he insisted on going to church every Sunday, not because he was religious but just to put on airs. I'm not a hypocrite and I didn't intend on becoming one."

"What happened to him?"

"He wound up marrying some robotic Stepfordesque shrew who fits into his mold."

"You don't sound _too_ bitter."

"I'm not bitter at all. You just never really know about a person."

"People change; especially at that age. We all need time to figure out who we are and what's important to us. I'm not the same person I was five years ago, or even five months ago for that matter."

"So who are you then?"

"Just a guy."

She leaned forward. "A cute guy."

"Thanks. How would you like to walk up to the winery."

"That sounds like a great idea." Doug and Becca started to walk up Talbout Street towards the winery, when they heard the rumble of thunder. They couldn't have walked more than two blocks when the sky opened up and it began to pour. Doug Grabbed Becca and pulled her under the awning of the shop they happened to be passing by at the time to get out of the downpour. She folded into Doug's chest and her wrapped his arms around her shoulders to keep her warm, she looked up at him and smiled and without thinking Doug kissed her, the rain water dripping down their faces as they shared a rainy wet kiss. He looked down into her face, her dark wet hair dangling around her eyes. It felt right to him; it felt perfect, like they belonged there. They said nothing, just holding onto each other. She laid her head on his chest and they waited a few minutes for the summer thunderstorm to pass. As quickly as the rain came it stopped and the sun came back out. Steam rose from the street, and the clean crisp scent of fresh rain filled the air. "It stopped raining," said Becca.

"Did it?" He said as he lost himself in her smile.

"C'mon, let's go," she said softly.

They began walking slowly. Becca put her arm around Doug's waist and he put his around her shoulder. They seemed to fit together just right as they headed towards the winery. Doug felt drawn to Becca like a magnet. It felt like something right in the pit of his stomach was pulling him towards her, but he couldn't explain what it was. It was a strange feeling for Doug and it made him feel a little anxious, but in a good way, like the way you feel waiting in line for a new roller coaster. A little apprehensive but excited and anxious! They walked into the winery, which had been crowded with people trying to escape the rain. Doug took Becca's hand and pulled her through the crowd as he made their way to the counter.

"Hello" said a woman's voice from behind the counter.

"Hi, busy day," said Doug.

"Thanks to the rain storm. Have you been here before?"

"Not to the winery, no."

"Well then, let's set you up with a few samples."

"That sounds great."

"Do you prefer white or red?"

"I prefer red, how about you Becca?"

"I like a red wine but nothing too sweet. A full bodied merlot or syrah would be nice."

Doug looked at her a bit surprised.

"A connoisseur eh?" said Doug.

"No, but I know what I like."

"We have a syrah that has a hint of blackberry. It may be too sweet for your pallet, but give it a try." She poured them each a small glass. While they were tasting the syrah she began to pour more samples.

"And here is our pinot noir, and our cabernet, and try the merlot of course, and the rose'"

By the time they left they had several samples and had bought four bottles of wine and all but floated back out to Talbout Street. "Boy this is going to be a long walk back to the other end of town," said Doug.

"She really likes to push the samples doesn't she?"

"It sells wine. I would have felt guilty leaving without buying some." They made their way back to the car and put the wine in the trunk. Doug walked around to the front of the car where Becca was resting against the hood, staring out over the Miles River.

"The sailboats are out" She said. Doug moved in behind her and put his arms around her waist and watched the sailboats lumber up the river. She turned around and kissed Doug.

"Doug, I really like you. I don't want to rush things ok?"

"Ok, I understand. In fact, I feel the same way. So when can I see you again?"

Doug and Becca continued to date, each date being better than the last. Doug found himself thinking about Becca morning, noon and night. His mood was brighter, his steps were lighter, and the joy that she brought him was ever present on his face. After a few weeks Doug decided a nice dinner was in order so he made the arrangements with Becca.

"This is a lovely place Doug. Have you been here before?"

"Yes, once or twice." The truth was Doug had been there several times before, with several different women. The restaurant was a favorite with Doug for impressing dates. It was called the Heron's Nest and it was located in Bay City on Kent Island, looking out over the channel that runs between Kent Island and Annapolis. The view of Annapolis from across the water at night is breathtaking, the lights from the cars on the Bay Bridge pulsing life into the city across the bay. This night was particularly romantic as they dined outside on the patio; the sounds of ships passing through the channel and the occasional gull calling in the distance accentuated the din of the other diners.

"I love the view. Have you brought many dates here?"

"No, I wanted to bring you here. I'm crazy about you Becca."

"I'm crazy about you to Doug. Tell me something."

"What?"

"Where are we going?"

"You mean after we leave here?"

"No, I mean us. Where do you think we're headed?"

"I don't know how to answer that Becca. I know that I can't stop thinking about you. Whenever you're not with me, you're always on my mind. Whenever I hear something new or see something interesting I can't wait to talk to you about it. You have become a part of me somehow."

"I know what you mean. I feel the same way."

"It's a good thing right?"

"Yes, Doug. It's a good thing."

"I've never felt like this about anyone before you Becca. You're asking where we're going and I don't know how to respond. I know I don't want this to end; I want this to go on forever."

"Let's go back to your place."

"Check Please!"

Becca held onto Doug's arm as they drove back. Doug rested his hand on Becca's bare thigh, rubbing and caressing it as they drove. Becca kissed Doug's neck and ran her hand up and down his arm. They turned into the driveway and Doug leaned over and kissed her deeply. He got out and opened her door. They walked toward the house leaning on each other. He opened the door and she went inside. Doug locked the door behind him and turned to face Becca. He pushed her against the wall and kissed her, she let out a slight whimper a she succumbed to his embrace. They were on fire with passion. He grabbed her arm and pulled her into the bedroom. They stood along side of the bed locked in a deep passionate kiss. Doug felt her drop as her knees gave way and he laid her back on the bed. He stood in front of her. She leaned back on her elbows and looked up at Doug. Doug stared back at her, admiring how beautiful she looked in her little black dress, her legs slightly crossed. She thought he looked like an innocent little boy standing there, looking like he didn't know what to do next. She sat up and grabbed Doug's pants at the belt and pulled him to the edge of the bed. She pulled his shirttails out of his pants and began kissing his stomach, unbuttoning his shirt and moving up his chest. She stood up and turned around. He slowly unzipped her dress and gently moved the straps off of her shoulders, letting the dress fall to the floor. The little black dress was sexy, but the satin slip she was wearing was ever hotter. He ran his hand s along her shoulders, pushing away the slip, and kissed the back of her neck. She turned around and began kissing him while she reached down and unbuckled his belt, then his pants, she put her hands on his hips and pushed his trousers down over them and they too fell to the floor. She reached into the flap of his boxers and grabbed his thick hard cock.

"Wow, I'd say someone's ready to go."

Doug reached over and pulled back the covers. They climbed into bed together for the first time. He lay between her legs resting on his right elbow and ran his hand lightly over her breasts and down her side and back up again. He gently scratched her inner arm and kissed her neck. She arched her back and tried to move herself closer to Doug. Doug teased her with his member, rubbing the head around her clitoris, and up and down the entrance to her vagina. Then when he felt her moving towards him he gently pushed deep inside of her. "Ohhh!" She moaned as they made passionate love. They fit together perfectly, his hips and groin meshed with hers, grinding and thrusting. Her moans grew louder "Ohh Doug!! Oh my God!!" The headboard banged against the wall as they rocked each other in ecstasy. Doug felt lost inside of her. They melted together, he didn't know where he ended and she began.

In the morning Doug woke first. He watched her sleeping. He couldn't believe how lucky he was or how perfect she was for him. Smart, funny, sexy, passionate, what else could a man ask for? He thought. Doug quietly slipped out of bed and threw on some clothes. He checked his refrigerator, but there wasn't anything resembling breakfast to be found amongst the beer bottles, so he headed up to the main house to see what he could find there. As he slipped in the back door he noticed his father sitting at the table reading the paper.

"You're up early." His father said.

"I was looking for some breakfast."

"Well, why don't you sit down and have breakfast with me. I'll have Edna whip us up some omelets."

"I uh, well, I was going to um."

"What's the matter, don't want to have breakfast with the old man?"

"It's not that at all. I just was going to go back out to..."

"Oh, I see. Not alone eh?

"I can't say as I approve. I never thought much of your catting around the way you do. And I don't think much of the girls you cat around with."

"Dad, you don't understand."

"I understand perfectly. You kids trade morality and decency for whatever makes you feel good for a few minutes."

"No, I've been seeing this girl for some time now and actually and this is the first time we've.. uh.. well."

"You? Seeing a steady girl? I don't believe it."

"Believe it."

"Well bring her in here. Let's have a look at her."

"She was still sleeping when I left. I was going to surprise her with some breakfast."

"Edna!, Edna come in here! Young Douglas has a girlfriend and he wants to make her breakfast. Can you cook boy?"

"I hadn't put much thought to it. How hard can it be?"

"I'll fix you up Doug," said Edna. Edna, the housekeeper commenced to banging around and opening cupboards and doing this and that until she finally turned around and handed Doug a bowl full of pancake batter and a container of blueberries.

"Put a frying pan on the stove at low heat, spray a little cooking spray on the bottom and pour the batter into the pan as big as you want your pancakes. Then drop a few blueberries on top. When it starts to bubble, flip it over and cook the other side. Make one pancake at a time. Make sure she likes blueberries before you make them. Can you handle it?"

"I think I got it. Thanks Edna, thanks dad."

Doug headed back with his batter and his blueberries. He arrived to find Becca sitting at his kitchen table.

"Hey, good morning."

"Hi."

"I hope you like blueberries?"

"I love blueberries."

"Good, I'm going to make you some blueberry pancakes."

"You can cook?"

"Well, we're about to find out."

"Oh no, you're not ruining my breakfast with experimental cooking. I'll take care of this. Where are your pots and pans?"

"Uh?"

Becca just gave Doug a look and starting searching through the cupboards.

"Here they are." Doug turned his chair towards the kitchen and grabbed her around the waist as she walked by and pulled her down onto his lap. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him lightly on the lips.

"What does your father look like?"

"My father? Well he's kind of heavy, old and bald with a little bit of white hair on either side."

"Does he usually walk around in a grey sweatshirt and very funny red and tan checkered shorts?"

Doug turned around to see his father standing outside the French doors to the kitchen, wearing his goofy shorts along with a wide grin, his hand cupped against the glass peering inside. He waived for him to come in.

"I wasn't sure if you had any maple syrup. I had this wonderful maple syrup up at the house and I thought you two would enjoy it."

"Uh huh, what you thought was that you had an excuse to come down here," said Doug.

"That too!" Doug's father moved past Doug quickly and went right for Becca who was now sitting in Doug's chair. She started to stand.

"Oh no, no, don't get up. How do you do, I'm Doug's father."

"Good morning Mr. Carlson, I'm Becca." She extended her hand to him.

Mr. Carlson leaned forward and grabbed Becca's hand in both of his and shaking them vigorously and very happily.

"Very nice to meet you!" She smiled at him, and then at Doug, who was a little annoyed at his father's interruption, but was glad to see him happy nonetheless.

"So, tell me about yourself Becca."

"What would you like to know?"

"Where are you from what do you do?"

"My family is from Baltimore, I work as a nurse."

"A nurse!" He said loudly, looking to Doug. "She takes care of people."

"And where did you meet this bum?" referring to Doug with a thumb.

"We met at the health club."

"She takes care of herself too. Yes, fine, very nice" Mr. Carlson was obviously taken with Becca.

"Tell me Rebecca do you plan to have children?"

"Ok that's enough dad, let's go." Doug eased his father towards the door.

"Very nice meting you Mr. Carlson."

"Oh, the pleasure was all mine. Enjoy your breakfast."

"C'mon dad."

"She's nice, and pretty too." He whispered to Doug on his way out.

Doug closed the door behind him and turned to Becca. "Sorry about that."

"Don't be, he's cute. It sounds like he wants grandchildren."

"Subtle, isn't he."

"I'll bet he was a good father. He seems like he would have been fun to grow up with."

"I wouldn't know. He tried, but he wasn't around much."

"Work?"

"Yep, he was away a lot."

"How about now?"

"He's semi retired. Has more time than he knows what to do with."

"I'll bet he'd be a great grand dad."

"I'll bet you'd be a great mom." Doug put his arms around her and lifted her slightly and she responded by jumping up and wrapping her legs around his waist. Doug started walking towards the bedroom.

"What about our pancakes." She said.

"They're not going anywhere."

XVIV

Doug and Becca spent the rest of the day as many young lovers might, lounging around, making love, and speculating about their futures. They were learning much about one another and growing closer. Their relationship was maturing into something beyond a mutual attraction or infatuation. Doug soon realized that the puppy love he had once felt for Dara was nothing in comparison to what he was feeling for Becca. His thoughts moved on from physical and emotional desire to those of building something together. He found himself surprised to be having thoughts of family and responsibility. As the afternoon slipped into early evening they both realized that the weekend was coming to an end. As they lay together on the couch Becca whispered to Doug:" I have to get going soon."

"I know. I hate this."

"Me too, I hate leaving you."

Becca's cell phone rang, "Hello? Hello mother." She got up so she could concentrate on the call; Doug listened as she talked.

"I haven't been home. I've been with Doug. Yes, I'm still seeing him. Yes, all weekend. Maybe, I'll talk to him about it. I think he would. I'll call you later ok? Goodbye."

"I take it that was your mother?"

"Yes, she wants to meet you. If you don't want to I understand. I know sometimes meeting the parents might indicate something else and I don't want to seem like I'm..."

"I think it's a great idea. I'd like to meet her. After all you've met my father."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive. Why don't I take us out for dinner? In fact there are some people I think I'd like you to meet."

"Oh, what people?"

"My best friend Skip for one and his girlfriend; we'll have dinner at the Oaks in Oxford and I'll have them meet us afterwards for drinks. I'll invite my father and he can drive your mother home afterwards."

"I think that would be lovely."

"Great, good night; I'll call you tomorrow."

Doug called Skip to set it up.

"Lacey, you'll never guess who I just got a call from."

"Doug Carlson."

"Ok maybe you will guess. He wants us to meet him at the Oaks Friday night. Say's there's someone he wants us to meet."

"Really?" Lacey was highly intrigued by this.

"Says he's met a girl and it's become serious."

"Her father must be the King of an oil producing nation, or, wait I know, I know, she's an elderly spinster who owns a chain of successful hotels."

"That's kind of a mean thing to say even about Doug."

"When was the last time Doug was serious about anyone but Doug?"

"Uhm........never. But that doesn't mean it couldn't happen. Even Doug Carlson isn't immune to the love bug."

"If the love bug bit Doug Carlson it would curl up into a little ball and die, or be forever infected by his poisonous blood and romance would perish the world over."

"I'm starting to get the impression that you don't care too much for Doug."

"I think this girl, whoever she is, should be warned of Doug's questionable past."

"Don't go saying anything that you'll regret. Maybe she is just what Doug needs."

"Don't worry, I won't say anything. I'm sure she'll find out on her own in due time." Lacey certainly wasn't convinced that Doug had really changed and she wasn't convinced that the locket she had Candy steal from Harry didn't have something to do with Harry's ordeal. She had more than enough reason not to trust Doug Carlson. But she also knew that she was somewhat guilty too, and possibly indictable if Doug was found out. She had gone along with what Doug wanted to save Skip's feelings and possibly her relationship with Skip. She wasn't about to say anything now.

Doug and Becca and his father and her mother, met for dinner at the Oaks. Harry met them as they came in and walked them to their table. Every kindness and polite gesture that Harry showed Doug made him feel even guiltier. Nonetheless, they enjoyed dinner and everyone had a wonderful time. They chatted and got to know one another better and Doug and Becca's relationship took on a new dimension. They were officially a couple, something that would have normally sent Doug running for the hills. But not this time, not with this girl, everything was perfect. Doug and Becca couldn't be happier. Doug glanced into the bar and he could see that Skip and Lacey had arrived. So he picked up the check, they said their goodbyes, and as planned Mr. Carlson drove Becca's mother home and he and Becca went into the bar to meet Skip and Lacey. The summer season was in full swing and the bar was crowded. Doug pulled Becca through the crowd by her hand and introduced her to Skip and Lacey.

"Skip and Lacey, this is Rebecca."

"But don't call me Rebecca, its Becca or Becky." Becca quickly interjected.

"Nice to meet you Becca," said Skip.

"Hi, nice to meet you Becca," Lacey said with a polite smile. "Oh hi Doug."

Skip through his arm around Doug's shoulders.

"Let me get you two a drink."

"A drink sounds good." Doug spotted an empty table across the room and turned to the girls "Why don't you two go grab that table over there before someone else does and we'll get the drinks."

Becca and Lacey headed for the table.

"She's not what I expected." Said Skip

"Well what did you expect, some bimbo?"

"Well yes, if history is an indication."

"No way, not me, not anymore. This is it."

"What have you done with Doug?" Skip grabbed Doug by the shirt. "What are you some kind of alien, what have you done with Doug? I demand to know!!"

"Get outta here." Doug pushed Skip away playfully.

"Seriously, she seems nice."

"She's nice, she's smart, we get along great, and we share similar points of view, sex is amazing; I don't know what else I could ask for."

"How serious is this? Don't tell me your thinking about getting married?"

"It's crossed my mind, but I'm not rushing into anything. We'll take it slow and see what develops. There's a part of me that's saying very loudly that she's the one, but I've only known her for a short time. I want to get to a point where I can see through the rose colored glasses I see her through now and see if I still see the same person."

"Dude, you sound more practical about this than anything I've ever heard you talk about before. You put less thought into buying the Oaks and turning it into some super hotel than you have in this."

"You're right, but selling a hotel might be less painful than a divorce."

"You have a point."

Meanwhile back at the table the girls were getting to know each other, engaging in small talk, where are you from, what do you do, that sort of thing when Lacey finally couldn't stand it anymore.

"What do you really know about Doug? I mean you've only known him a short time and you two sound pretty serious."

"You're right Lacey. I don't know him that well, but how well do we really know anyone? I think it's more of a feeling I have. Call it intuition."

"Call it whatever you want, just be careful."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing, it's just unusual for Doug to be seeing anyone for any length of time. He's always been a nice to meet you, see you later type"

"He hasn't been like that with me?"

"And maybe he won't be. I'm just saying. But don't mind me. I just think you're a really nice girl and I wouldn't want to see you get hurt."

"Hello girls," said Skip as they returned to the table with the drinks. Becca looked up at Doug now with uncertainty. What Lacey had said bothered her. What did she really know about Doug? All she knew was what she had learned about him in the past few weeks; and what he had told her. What if he was lying? What if he was really some sort of Casanova that used women and broke their hearts? Becca thought to herself there's been nothing to make me think that except for what this girl Lacey, whom I've just met for the first time in my life, has to say. Maybe she's just jealous? She probably wants Doug for herself. Skip seems nice though, why would she want Doug? Doug's more successful and comes from a wealthy family. Maybe she's interested in what he can give her in the way of financial security or material things? That bitch is after my man!!! Becca looked across the table at Lacey, watching her eyes to see if she was staring at Doug or at Skip. The two couples spent the evening at the Oaks, drinking and laughing and talking. But Becca never took her eyes off of Lacey.

"I have to go to the ladies. Lacey, do you want to come?"

"Ok."

The girls got up to go to the ladies room. Doug watched Becca walk across the room and disappear into the foyer where the rest rooms were located.

"You haven't taken your eyes off of her all night. Wherever she goes, your eyes are glued to her."

"Are they? I really didn't notice. I guess I just like knowing that she isn't too far away."

"Wow, you've got it bad."

"It's a nice feeling isn't it? I've always thought guys were suckers for falling for one girl."

"It has its benefits. Of course it has its drawbacks too."

"I understand. But I've played the field enough for any ten guys. I like having someone I can talk to and share things with. I like that it's not just about me anymore."

Meanwhile in the ladies room Lacey and Becca were continuing their discussion. "Lacey, what you said about Doug has me concerned. Why would you want to try and turn me off of him?"

"Don't get me wrong Becca. I'm not trying to turn you off of him. I've known Doug for some time and he's always been a player. Recently he's changed and seems to be more sincere than he was before. I'm just afraid that this new philosophy he's adopted may not be permanent and I wouldn't want to see some innocent young girl get hurt in the process of Doug rediscovering himself."

"People do change you know. Guys like to play the field a lot when they're young. Maybe he's just decided its time to grow up. I think you should give him a chance to prove it."

Lacey looked at Becca and thought about telling her everything that she knew about Doug. How he's treated women, including her. The arrangement with Candy and what happened to Harry played on her mind. But she didn't, she just gave Becca a sympathetic look and hugged her.

"Maybe your right Becca, I shouldn't be so judgmental." Lacey thought to herself, I hope she's right, but there's no point in trying to reason with her. She's in love with Doug and she's not going to listen anyway.

"C'mon lets get back."

The two couples enjoyed the rest of the evening and on the way out Lacey grabbed Doug by the arm and said: "Listen to me! She's a nice girl and she's in love with you, and I think she's great so you better be good to her!"

"Ok Lacey, don't worry." Doug smiled at Lacey.

As Skip and Lacey were driving home she asked Skip."Skip, do you think Doug is sincere about Becca? I really like her."

"He is. Did you see the way he looked at her, and she at him?"

"I did. I think it's really nice that Doug has come around the way he has. I just hope it lasts."

"I think he's going to propose to her at some point, but he wants to give it some time. He wants to make sure its real before he makes any life changing decisions."

"Now that's the Doug I know."

"Yeah, well there's something to be said about being practical."

Doug wasn't entirely practical, the following week he wanted to surprised Becca at work and take her to lunch. He arrived at the hospital where she worked and headed to the pediatric wing where a young girl of nine wearing a flower print hat and dressing gown met him at the door. "Hi, my name is Ashley what's your name?"

"Hi Ashley, I'm Doug. Is Becca around?"

"You must be her boyfriend. Come with me." Ashley grabbed Doug's finger and pulled him into the room. "You sit here." She pointed to a small child's chair at a drawing table. One like you might see in a kindergarten classroom. Doug squeezed himself into the chair and Ashley settled herself across from Doug, and with a stern look began her examination.

"Are you Becca's boyfriend?"

"Yes."

"What do you do?"

"I'm an investment broker."

"Do you have a nice car?"

"I think so."

"Are you here to take Becca to lunch?"

"Why yes I am."

"Are you taking her somewhere nice, like McDonalds?"

"I'll take her wherever she wants to go."

"She likes McDonalds. So you can take her there."

"Ok."

"Make sure you get her fries, she likes fries."

"Will do."

"Are you getting married?"

"I don't know? I like to think so."

"Do you like kids?"

"I like you." Ashley smiled embarrassedly, but quickly regained her composure with a slight shake of her head.

"Well, you seem ok, and you dress nice. You wait here." With that Ashley went into the nurse's station where the nurses had already gathered to ogle Becca's new boyfriend.

"Nurse Becca, Your boyfriend is here to take you to lunch. He's nice." She leaned towards Becca and whispered. "I told him to take you to McDonalds. I know that's what you like."

"Ok Ashley thanks." Becca whispered back. Ashley turned to Doug and shaking a finger at him said "Make sure you have her back on time, and remember what I said."

"Ok, Thank you miss Ashley." Doug replied as he took Becca's hand and they headed out the door.

"That's some house mother you have there," Said Doug.

"She's something."

"She's bald under that hat isn't she?"

"I'm afraid so. She has a rare form of liver cancer."

"My god, is it fatal?"

"I'm afraid so. There's not much the doctors can do."

"How long?"

"It's hard to say. She's responding well to treatment at the moment, but that could change. Her little body is getting tired of fighting; it will only be a matter of time before she just looses the ability to fight the disease."

"She's so young. Does she know?"

"She knows that she has cancer and that she could die."

"How does someone that young deal with such a thing? It makes you think about how fragile life is and how quickly everything can be over. She's only a child, it isn't fair!"

"I'm sure that's how her parents feel too."

"She seems to be in good spirits."

"She's strong. Even at her worst moments when she barely has the strength to speak, she stays positive and seems more concerned with making the people around her feel better than she does. She's an amazing little girl."

"Becca lets get married."

"What? This isn't how I saw this going."

"I know, I'm sorry, I should be down on one knee and in some romantic place. But I love you and I don't want to waste time thinking about this. I just want to do it."

"Your not planning on dragging me down to city hall are you? I only have an hour for lunch."

"No, we can take all the time we want. Plan a big wedding; invite everyone. But let's do it. What do you say?" Becca looked at Doug, closed her eyes tight and said "Yes." Doug felt all of the blood drain from his face and his knees buckle under him and he fell down to balance himself on one knee.

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah, I just felt a little faint that's all."

"You where supposed to get down on one knee before you asked me to marry you."

"Right." Doug slowly got up and embraced Becca.

XX

"Dude I'm getting married."

"What!?"

"I asked her and she said yes."

"What happened to not rushing and making sure and all that?"

"Sometimes you just got to go with your gut."  
"I never know what to expect from you anymore. Well, I guess congratulations. This is really sudden. Have you set a date?"

"Next June. She has me meeting with florists and photographers and wedding planners all month. As soon as she told her mother the both of them shifted into overdrive and started making arrangements."

"Is the reception going to be at the Oaks?"

"No! I mean no, the country club."

"Oh, ok. The country club will be nice and more appropriate."

"I would like you to be my best man."

"Of course, I'd be honored."

"Cool. Thanks, I'll call you later."

"Ok, later."

Skip was taken back by the sudden news that Doug was getting married. Over the short space of a season Doug had gone from being a relentless overachiever with Machiavellian tendencies to being this regular guy who's ready to settle down and live the quiet life. It just didn't add up in Skip's mind.

Doug on the other hand knew that it made perfect sense. He had become the person he wanted to be. Free of the blind ambition that once ruled his life, and free of the selfishness that nearly destroyed him. He would never be free of the guilt, but he learned to live with it and use it as a reminder of what could have been. Instead of letting the guilt weigh him down, he used it as a tool, a constant reminder of who he once was and who he is now. Doug walked around his house that afternoon without a care in the world. He decided to order a pizza and chill out. A knock came at the door and he grabbed his wallet to pay for his pie, he opened the door and standing before him was not the pizza delivery driver as expected. A fright ran through him and a chill went up his spine as he stood staring. It was Deidre. Doug carefully stuck his head out the door and looked left and then right to see if she was alone.

" What are you doing here?"

"Can I come in?"

"Come on, hurry up. Why are you here? Look, I've forgotten all about that business with Pamoja. She can just forget about the money, I don't care."

"This isn't about money."

"Then what's it about?"

"Pamoja caught me going through her things and made me tell about you and what you were doing."

"That would explain those two goons dragging me into the woods for a talk."

"Yes, but that's not why I'm here either."

"Why are you here then? Does anyone know you're here?"

"No, I didn't tell anyone I was coming. I wanted to ask you about my mother."

"Your mother?"

"Yes, her name was Dara."

"Dara was your mother?"

"Yes. Did you know her after she went away?"

"No, I never knew what became of her."

"Didn't you ever wonder what happened to her, didn't you ever want to see her again."

"Yes, but I was only a kid. I didn't know how and after a time I just kind of got on with my life. I didn't see the point in trying to run her down. I mean what for?"

"I guess its true then."

"What's true?"

"That you didn't know. They sent her away because Pamoja saw the two of you together. It wasn't until a few weeks later they found out she was with child."

"With child! Whose child?"

"Your child."

"You mean you are my...."

"I am your daughter."

Doug sat with his mouth agape. He studied her face, she was about the same age as Dara the last time he saw her, and now he could see it. He could see Dara's eyes staring back at him from long ago. And he could see himself in her features. He knew there was something about her the first time they had met but he never could have figured this. He stood and put his arms around Deidre.

"Why didn't you tell me from the beginning?"

"I didn't know until just a short time ago. When Pamoja confronted me, she told me what happened; and told me never to try and contact you, that you would reject me."

Doug knew that Pamoja was right. But things were different now.

"I don't want to cause you any trouble. And I don't want anything from you. I just thought you should know." Just then Doug heard the sliding door to his kitchen open and his father walked in to see Doug with his arms around Deirdre. Mr. Carlson thought the worst. He began to yell at Doug and scold him as hard as he could.

"What the hell is this? Who is this tramp? You're getting married, what the hell are you doing?"

"Dad, slow down. It's not what you think."

"What is it then? I suppose you're going to tell me that this little trollop is delivering pizza!"

"Dad, this is Deirdre. She is the daughter of Dara."

"Who?"

"Dara was Pamoja's daughter. You remember our housekeeper Pamoja?"

"What? Yes, uh Pamoja. Well what's she doing here?"

"Don't you know?"

"No, I don't know."

"Dara was pregnant when Pamoja sent her away. She's my daughter."

"Son, don't be a fool! She's a con artist trying to take you for a ride. What is it you want honey, you looking for some money? Well you came to the wrong place!!"

"Dad, look at her. I believe her."

"Well I believe in science. We'll have a doctor get to the bottom of this!"

"I don't want your money old man!" Yelled Deirdre. "And I don't need no doctor to tell me who I am or who I ain't."

"Of course you don't. That wouldn't exactly help your case any would it?" He reached into his pocket and pulled out a clip of cash. He pealed off a one hundred dollar bill and held it out to her. "Here you go sweetie. This should hold you over until you find your next daddy."

"Dad, you have to give her a chance. Her story makes sense. I met her through Pamoja a few months ago."

"What were you doing with Pamoja? I didn't even know she was still around."

"Oh, uhhh, I was up in Rock Hall talking to an investor and I ran into her."

"Still you don't know anything about her or what ever became of Dara. Where is she in all this?"

"She'd dead dad. She passed away a few years ago. Pamoja raised Deirdre here from a young girl. Did you know why Pamoja sent Dara away all those years ago?"

"She didn't really tell me. To be honest I didn't really notice she was gone. I was very busy those days you know."

"Yeah, I remember."

"Don't give me that attitude boy! If it wasn't for me working as much as I did then we wouldn't be where we are now."

"I understand that dad, but it still would have been nice to have a father around once in a while. I had to depend on Pamoja for everything."

"I'm not going to apologize for making a life for myself and my children and my children's children."

"I don't expect you to. But this young lady here may just be your granddaughter, so you may want to warm up to the idea."

"When I see proof positive, I will. But until then I don't trust her."

"Why, because I don't look like you? I'm not lily white enough to be part of your precious clan."

"Here we go! This is always the way they play it you know. Feed you some bullshit and fertilize it with guilt. Well I have nothing to feel guilty about young lady!"

"You should feel guilty about the way you're acting right now dad."

"How about you Doug, how do you feel about all this? And how is Becca going to feel about this? A teenage daughter dropped in her lap. She didn't sign up for that!"

"Who is Becca?"

"My fiancé"

"Don't worry; like I said before, I don't want nothing from you. I'm sorry I told you."

"Well I'm not. I want to know the truth. But my dad has a point. All we're going on is what Pamoja told you. I think we should still make sure. Just so we know the truth." Deirdre thought for a moment and realized Doug was right. "Ok, I'll take the test."

XXI

"Becca, we have to talk."

"We have to talk? As in, we have to talk! Oh my god. You're breaking up with me."

"No, I'm not. But there's something important that I have to tell you and I think it's only fair that you know."

"What? What is so important?"

"Do you remember the conversation we had about Dara, the daughter of my dad's housekeeper when I was a kid?"

"Yes, I remember."

"Her daughter came to visit me last night."

"And?"

"She claims to be the product of our single intimate encounter." Becca waited for a moment to let the news sink in.

"You have a daughter?"

"Possibly, she has agreed to a paternity test."

"How old is she?"

"I didn't ask her, but I've done the math and she should be 15 or 16."

"Why now; what does she want?"

"She said she doesn't want anything. She said she just found out herself and just thought I should know."

"Do you believe her?"

"Yes, I think I do."

"Wow, this is really something. You may have a daughter."

"I'll understand if this changes things for you."

"What do you mean? Why would this change things for me? I don't care that you may have a daughter. What I care about is you and how you're going to deal with this situation if it's true. Did you think I was going to run away because you may have a teenage daughter?"

"To be honest, I didn't know how you would react. I can't help but feel hat I've wronged you or mislead you in some way, even though I know I haven't."

"Of course you haven't. You didn't run out and knock this girl up last week. This is something that happened years ago and you had no way of knowing about it. If she does turn out to be your daughter I would like to meet her. What's she like?"

"She's very pretty. I can see her mother in her. She seems tough, tough enough to stand up to my father when he accused her of being a scam artist."

"Where is her mother in all this?"

"She died of cancer some years ago. She was raised by her grandmother and she kept the truth from her until recently."

"But why now? Why bother to tell her now?" Doug thought a moment. He knew he couldn't tell Becca the real reason this all came about. Becca could sense the hesitation in Doug.

"I don't know? I guess she just felt that she was old enough to handle it now."

"I don't buy that. Something had to happen to bring this about. Don't worry, when I meet her I'll find out. Women have a way of getting certain information from other women."

This didn't comfort Doug. He didn't think that Deirdre would tell Becca what had transpired but he didn't want Becca to get the chance to try and pry it out of Deirdre either.

"I think it would be best to just leave it be for now Becca. If all this turns out to be true and she is my daughter we'll have all the time in the world to find out about her and what she's been through."

"I guess you're right. I can't wait to meet her now! This is kind of exciting don't you think?"

"I'm glad you feel that way Becca. I was really worried that you would be upset by this."

"There's nothing to be upset about Doug." Becca comforted Doug and let him believe that she was ok with this news, but the truth was it was a bit unsettling for Becca. Doug was right; she hadn't entered into a relationship with Doug expecting to be a stepmother. She had envisioned them having their own children and starting fresh and new. But this wasn't a baby, she thought. This child isn't going to interrupt our lives; she's practically grown with a life of her own. But how would it look to her friends and family? She thought. Would they accept this person, a half black love child? Becca never thought of her people as prejudice, but than again, they had never been faced with the prospect of an interracial baseborn teenager becoming one of the family. This would certainly test their convictions. But Becca soon thought to herself, "If they have a problem with it, it's their problem, not mine."

The day came that Deirdre was to take the paternity test. She was in deed Doug's daughter.

"I don't want Pamoja to know of this," she said.

"But she already knows, she's the one who told you?" Doug replied, a bit confused.

"I mean, she can't know that I told you."

"I don't understand. Why did you tell me? You couldn't have thought I would just walk away from you knowing that you're my daughter. There are so many things I want to know now, about you, about Dara. We have a lifetime to catch up on, and a lifetime left to share."

"No. I told you before; I don't want nothing from you. I wanted to be sure, and I knew if I came to you that you would insist on a medical test. You go back to your life and I'll go back to mine."

"That's impossible Deirdre."

"Do you know what Pamoja would do if she found out?"

"I don't think she would hurt her granddaughter."

"She would send me away. I would have to live with strangers. I like my life. It's not much but it's what I know and understand. I'm comfortable with who I am. You may be my biological father, but you have never been a father to me."

"I never had the chance! Give me that chance to show you that I can be a father to you."

"Its true that you didn't know about me, but it's also true that you never tried to find out anything about the girl you say you were so in love with."

"I was just a kid. I had no idea what to do."

"The truth is you didn't really care about her. You were too busy getting ready for a life of wealth and privilege and you had no room in that life for a girl from the other side of the tracks, the daughter of a paid servant or a girl of what I'm sure you consider an inferior race."

"That's not fair. I never felt that way about Dara. I was just too young."

"I'm not judging you. It's how you was raised. I don't even blame you for what you did. But now you have to understand that you can't just drop into my life and change everything. I'm not looking for a white knight to take me away. I just want to know who I am, and where I come from. The world I was raised in is so different from yours. I wouldn't know where to begin. I love my people and my ways, and I don't want to change. Please try to understand and please don't ever let Pamoja find out about this."

Doug was confused and disappointed, but he understood her need to know and her desire to continue her life without the complications that having Doug as a father would bring. He was also just a little relieved.

Doug broke the news to his father and he was unmoved by the paternity test results. Even the fact that she didn't want anything from him and wished to be left alone didn't break the ice that was his father's will.

"Now that she has this in her back pocket, she'll always have you to fall back on or to put the squeeze on whenever she wants something or gets into trouble." He would say.

Doug knew his father was right. The potential was always there for her to use this against him. Doug also knew that if Pamoja ever found out that he knew that Deirdre was his daughter she might use that information against Doug.

"What do you think I should do dad?"

"Lets look at the facts here son. This girl is the biological result of you having your way with her mother. It's an old story, it's been happening since the days of slavery. The master of the house has always had the right to take what is rightfully his. In this case the girl you slept with was more or less family property. The child is simply a by-product. You have no emotional ties to this girl. You were never married to her mother; you didn't even know she existed until just a few days ago. If something were to happen to her you wouldn't even have to know about it."

"What are you suggesting?" Doug was shocked to hear his father talk like this. He had always been such a gentle person. Everyone just thought he was a sweet old man.

"I'm not suggesting anything at the moment, but if she gets to be a problem.... let's just cross that bridge when we come to it. Now the doctor we used is an old friend of the family. We can make that paternity test disappear, like it never happened."

"But it did happen! She's my daughter, and I may not have been involved in her life, and I may not even be in the future, but by god if she needs me I'm going to be there for her! I can't believe the things you're saying? I don't even know you!!"

"Don't be like that Doug. It's taken us a lot of time and hard work to get where we are today. I'm just saying we don't have to jeopardize anything over a mistake you made with a girl when you where fifteen. If you want to just let it ride that's fine by me. Just keep in mind that I didn't get where I am today by allowing little things to get in the way. Sometimes you have to be tough to get ahead in this world."

Doug could see his former self in his father. He had often wondered where his relentlessness and ambition came from. Now he knew. Doug's head was spinning. Was he wrong to change his way of thinking? Had he become soft as a result of his near death experience? He started going over things in his head. He knew his father was a powerful man and that he could pull some strings, but he never thought he was anything but a hard working businessman. What kind of associations had he made over the years? Who did he know? Doug thought to himself, "If I had known this I could have come to him when I was trying to buy the Oaks, he could've gotten Harry out of the way and I never would have had to get involved with Pamoja and her sloppy associates."

"You're right dad. I've been too complacent about things lately."

"No, don't say that. You've just grown up son. I don't know what happened to bring it on. Maybe it was Rebecca? I think she's the best thing that's happened to you. You just have to learn to find some balance. Not everything is, as it may seem. You have to determine what the right course of action is for every situation and have the means and the guts to see it through."

"I never saw you as ruthless dad."

"And I hope you don't now. I don't like to think of myself that way."

"Then how do you see yourself?"

"Smart. Smart enough to get things done without being ruthless, and without hurting anyone. But also smart enough to know when that's unavoidable."

In all these years Doug had always been too headstrong to listen to his father's advice. He always thought he was smarter than his father, but now he was seeing below the surface.

"Why haven't you ever told me these things before?"

"You weren't ready to hear them. I think now you are."

Doug thought to himself. I let those two guys in the woods take away my balls. My father is right. My ambitions shouldn't be changed, just the way I go about executing my plans. I have to be smart about things. Harry was right too. Even if I'm not able to buy the Oaks and set it up the way I want, there are always opportunities out there for someone like me. Doug's situation with Deirdre turned out not to be so bad. He thought his father was right. "Who is this girl to me really? If she wants to be left alone, who am I to interfere in her life? If she really needs me I'll try to be there for her, but let's face it, I have my own plans and she never really has been part of them. Becca will understand. I know she would like to meet her and get to know about her but she has to respect Deirdre's privacy if that's what she wants." Doug decided that he needed some time alone to clear his head. So he decided to head over to the health club for a swim. "A few laps in the pool will do me good. Give me time to think about what I really want to do." Doug got changed and showered and walked down the steps into the shallow end of the pool. He looked around the Olympic size pool and could only see a few seniors getting their physical therapy sessions in. The pool was a great place to relax. Especially in the middle of the week when there were no noisy kids around. After a short swim he went into the adjacent room to soak in the whirlpool for a while. He reached down and put his hand in the water; it was very hot. He pulled out the thermometer and it read 109. He turned on the jets and slowly began getting in. First his foot and as he got used to the hot water his legs. He stood there up to his thighs in the water and he could feel that the air from the jets was bringing the temperature down slightly. After a few oohs and ahs he was finally able to descend into the hot tub. "Ohhh this feels great." He said as he relaxed. He leaned his head back and looked up at the ceiling. Closing his eyes he let all the tension of the past days melt away.

"If you wanted to get into something hot you should have said so." Doug opened his eyes to see Barbie standing over him.

"Do you flirt with every guy that comes in here?" Barbie didn't respond she just stood over him looking down with her arms crossed. Doug closed his eyes and tried to ignore Barbie interrupting his repose. He heard her shift her feet and opened one eye to see what she was doing. She had moved closer. This time when he looked up he could just see her face, but moreover he could see her white cotton panties underneath her skirt. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore what he saw, but even with his eyes closed all he could see were those white cotton panties painted on the inside of his eyelids. He closed his eyes tighter and tried to think of something else. He heard her move closer. Doug sat straight up and turned to face Barbie. "What exactly do you want Barbie?" He said with a perturbed tone in his voice.

"I want you. Can't you tell?"

"I'm really not sure. You flirt with me and make seductive suggestions, and then when I act on them you back off."

"I'm not some cheap slut, dummy. Have you ever even thought of asking me out?" Doug thought to himself, nope. That's not what I had in mind.

"Actually Barbie, I'm seeing someone."

"Who, that skinny little brunette with glasses; I can make you forget all about her."

"Her name is Rebecca, and yes, that's who I've been seeing."

"C'mon Doug, you and I both know she's not your type." Doug was starting to overheat, so he lifted himself out of the hot tub and sat on the side to cool off.

"She happens to be exactly my type." Barbie bent down and put her hand on Doug's chest. She ran her fingers up and down and whispered in Doug's ear. "What you need is a real woman. One who's not afraid to satisfy your every desire; I can be that woman to you Doug." She moved her hand down to Doug's abdomen and ran her hand along the tops of his shorts. Doug could feel himself becoming aroused.

"Isn't this about the time you pull back and run away?"

"Just say you'll be with me and I won't." Doug hesitated and thought for a moment. He was now completely aroused and she could see his cock throbbing inside his shorts. She moved her hand down his shorts on his thigh, near his rock hard member, gently caressing his leg, very close to, but not quite touching it. Doug leaned back on his elbows and whispered back to her.

"I'm with Becca." He turned away from her and got up, grabbed his towel and headed for the pool. He held the towel in front of him as to not alarm any of the old women who were doing their water exercises nearby, and tossed it to the side just before jumping into the cold pool. Between the hot tub and Barbie he thought he heard the distinct sound of a hot coal being extinguished as he plunged into the pool. Barbie was stunned. She walked into the pool area in a huff and shot Doug an evil look as she walked back toward the door to the front office. "This isn't over yet." She thought. "There is no way that little librarian is going to out do me! She'll find out the hard way. When I want something I get it!" She wouldn't have to wait long; Barbie checked the schedule and saw that Becca had her spinning class that night. And she made sure they would run into each other. Later that night, just before the spin class Barbie approached Debbie who was checking in the participants for the spin class.

"What are you doing Deb?"

"I'm doing the check in."

"Why don't you let me do that tonight?"

"Ok, if you want to. I hate doing this anyway." Barbie took her place behind the podium and checked people in, waiting patiently for Becca to show up. When she finally did:

"Hi, your Becca right?"

"Yep, I'm here for the spin class."

"Ok, you're all checked in. Hey aren't you dating Doug Carlson?"

"Why yes, how did you know that?"

"Oh Doug and I talk all the time. We've known each other for years."

"Oh."

"He and I have what you might call a special friendship." Barbie winked at Becca.

"A special friendship?"

"You know, friends with benefits some people might say. I never thought I was his only special friend, but I didn't know you were one to."

"He told you that? Special friend?"

"Not in so many words, but I knew what he meant. He's great isn't he? It's nice to be so open about things with someone and not have all the constraints of a traditional boyfriend-girlfriend thing going on, don't you think? Sometimes we don't even have sex. We just spend all night talking." Barbie watched as Becca's face went pale.

"Have fun spinning." Becca turned and walked away. Her heart was breaking as she walked out the door and headed back to her car. She felt dizzy as she walked across the parking lot. Her car seemed miles away and didn't seem to be getting any closer as she walked towards it. Dark clouds had moved in and it started to rain as she made her way across the parking lot. She looked down at her feet to make sure she was still walking and all of the sudden she found herself leaning on her car door in the rain. Looking through the tears that were now streaming down her face she fumbled for her keys. She desperately searched for the lock and finally opened the door and got inside. She leaned over her steering wheel crying. Wondering how he could be so cold. How he could keep up such a lie for so long. "He met my mother. He let me start planning a wedding. Was it all a lie? Why would he do this to me?" She was hysterical and couldn't put it together in her head. It didn't make any sense? Was he planning to have a wife at home and girlfriends on the side? Becca tried desperately to sort things out in her mind but couldn't. She wanted it to all be a lie, but she couldn't help thinking about what Lacey had said. "She said he was a player and that I should be careful." Becca regained her composure and started to think logically. "It's possible he had something going on with her before he met me. It's obvious he played the field. Why would he be so open with her and not with me, if that's the kind of relationship he wanted he would have said so? Why not just ask him?" Becca grabbed her cell phone out of her purse.

"Hello."

"Doug, I have something I have to ask you."

"Ok, what?"

"What is the nature of your relationship with Barbie."

"Barbie at the gym?"

"Yes, Barbie at the gym."

"There is no relationship between me and Barbie. She flirts with me sometime, but that's it."

"So, you've never dated her?"

"No. Why do you ask?"

"That's not what she said."

"What did she say?"

"She said the two of you where special friends, and sometimes you don't even have sex; you just talk all night."

"What? That's crazy! She's crazy! I've never been with her. I've never even seen her outside the health club and I've only been a member there for a few weeks."

"Why would she lie?"

"I told you, she flirts with me. She's crazy. She's trying to get between us; you have to see that!"

"All I know is what she told me, and what other people have told me about you."

"What other people? What are you talking about?"

"None of your business who, but I heard you were a player and that I shouldn't trust you."

"Listen Becca that may have been true in the past. But I assure you that's all in the past. Sure I dated some women, I was single and not looking for anything long term, but that's all changed now. All I want is you."

"I don't believe you."

"Becca, I've never lied to you about anything. This Barbie chick is nuts. If I had something going on with her before I met you, why wouldn't I tell you?"

"Maybe you want the best of both worlds. Maybe you want the sure thing at home and a plaything like Barbie on the side. I know all about how some men like to keep two women."

"Becca, I swear to you I'm not that way. I've never been that way even at my worst. I'll admit that in the past I've not always treated women the way I should have. But I've never kept one dangling while I had another on the line. You have to believe me. I love you. You're all I want."

"I don't know what to think. I want to believe you, but I'm starting to see a side of you I didn't know you had. The Doug I met would never have run around and chased women, using them for his own pleasure then dropping them. I can't believe you would ever have been like that. Tell me it's not true."

"Becca....."

"It's true isn't it?"

"I haven't always been the way I am now. People change. I've changed."

"Oh my God! I have to go."

"Becca, Becca wait!" But it was too late Becca had hung up.

Doug was devastated. His past seemed to be catching up with him at every turn. What was next? He left his office and began walking around town trying to make sense of it all. The rain had stopped and the fresh air smelled of asphalt and wet grass. He looked up and saw that he was standing in front of a church. It was a large white building with a high steeple and red shutters. The low clouds that remained as the storm was clearing out moved quickly above the cross. He went inside and sat alone in one of the pews. He looked up towards the alter and saw the huge crucifix and stained glass windows. He sat alone in silence. Sadness draped over him like a blanket. He wondered if all those things that Deirdre had told him about karma and the spirit world were true. Were his sins coming back to claim their dues? "God, you know I've never been a religious man. I never had any formal religious schooling or belonged to a church. I've always relied on myself to get by. But if you could see into my soul and see that I'm a changed man and forgive me for what I've done in the past, then maybe, who knows?"

"Maybe he wants to see if you're for real."

A voice came from the back of the church. Doug turned to see a man in a white robe walking down the isle towards him.

"What do you mean?"

"It's called tribulation. A test to see if you will remain faithful, even in times of trouble, when you may feel that even god has abandoned you."

"That's just the kind of thinking that has kept me out of church."

"I'm Father Tom Leone." Father Tom extended his hand as he leaned over towards Doug. Doug took his hand.

"Would you like to talk about what's troubling you?" Father Tom said as he sat down. Doug looked Father Tom over. Father Tom was a middle aged Episcopal priest, with very little hair on the sides of an otherwise baldhead. He had a kind smile and pleasant demeanor, which made Doug feel instantly at ease.

"Thank you Father, not really, no."

"Sometimes it helps when you get things off your chest."

"I'm not even Catholic."

"Neither am I. I'm Episcopalian. God does not care what religion you are son. He only cares that at some point in your life you find him. For many people that point comes at a time when they have no one else to turn to, or when their troubles have mounted beyond that of human resolution."

"What do you know about karma Father?"

"Karma? Well, some religions believe that every action has an equal and opposite reaction. If you do something bad to someone, an equally bad thing will be returned on you."

"When would you be all evened up?"

Father Tom laughed. "Depends on your system of beliefs I guess. Some people think it happens in very short order. Some people think it takes a lifetime, or more."

"More?"

"Yes, some Buddhists believe that you are reincarnated according to your karma. For example, a very bad person who accumulates a great deal of bad karma may be reincarnated as a dog or a cockroach. If you have accumulated a lot of good karma and have reached a state of enlightenment or high spiritual learning, you may come back as a kind of god."

"How many gods do you see walking around here?"

"You wouldn't necessarily come back to earth. They believe that earth and human existence is a place of suffering. There's a big universe out there, and who knows what lies beyond that."

"So you could wind up on another planet in another universe all together?"

"That's what some believe, and why not?"

"Is that what you believe?"

"I believe that if it is god's will, then anything is possible. But to put it more simply, I believe in the holy sacraments of the church and the teachings of Christ."

"That simplifies things a bit. What does the bible say about karma?"

"The bible doesn't mention karma directly, but there are some passages that deal with good works. Ecclesiastes 11:1 for instance: Cast your bread upon the water and it will come back a thousand fold."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that your generosity will be rewarded, either here or in heaven."

'What about bad karma, can sins be forgiven and bad karma wiped out?"

"If you are sincere and penitent, then you may be forgiven."

"How would you know if you were truly forgiven?"

"You would know in your heart and god would know in his."

"What if the sin was great?"

"No sin is too great to be given to god. If you are truly repentant, he will forgive."

"That doesn't mean anyone else would though."

"That's true. Men tend to be a little more hard-nosed.

Part of what our sacraments teach us is that confession is a necessary part of forgiveness."

"So I would have to confess to the person I wronged?"

"No, you can confess to god directly, or to a priest."

"It would take me forever to list all my sins and confess them."

"You wouldn't have to do that. Just simply acknowledge your sinfulness to god and be truly repentant."

"That's a great philosophy you have there Father. Commit whatever sins you want, then just say I'm sorry and they're all forgiven."

"God will know if your heart is true. You have to remember that we are just mortal men. We all have sin and fall short of the perfection of god. He knows we're going to slip up. We just need to know when we do, try to avoid it when we can, but when we make a mistake, if we're truly sorry, he'll be there for us."

"It sounds like you have it all figured out. But I guess every religion thinks they have it all figured out."

"I think a lot of people enter the seminary every year thinking they have it figured out and once they start studying the hundreds of other religions and belief systems being practiced throughout the world, they become confused. Most people believe what they are taught as children and hold firmly to those beliefs. What religion were your folks?"

"My mother died when I was young and my father wasn't religious. But I guess they were protestant. I used to watch our housekeeper. She was from Africa and practiced Catholicism along with some of the traditional beliefs she brought from Africa."

"That must have been very confusing."

"I didn't pay it much attention, to be honest. But I do know that she believed in a sort of karma, but that your dead ancestors had sort of control over what happened to you and they would watch over you or protect you as long as they could, or as long as they weren't offended or pissed off at you, oh, sorry father."

"Forget it."

"She also believed that she could intercede on your behalf by making sacrifices or offerings to your dead ancestors or those of someone you wronged, or to gods that ruled over certain things."

"Most religions believe in some sort of sacrifice, whether it's fasting, or animal sacrifice, or even self mutilation."

"Does yours?"

"Yes, there's the season of lent in which people give up something they enjoy as a demonstration of faith and sacrifice."

"Should I sacrifice something in order to help my situation?"

"I wouldn't do anything rash. You haven't even told me what your problem is. Would you like to talk about it?"

"I've been falsely accused of something, but my past behavior, I think, is keeping people from believing me."

"A thief accused of stealing something he didn't."

"Something like that."

"What happened?"

"A woman who I know told my girlfriend that we were seeing each other and we're not."

"Why would she do something like that?"

"Because I rejected her."

"I see. And you haven't always been faithful to your girlfriends?"

"Let's just say I've played around quite a bit."

"And now you've found someone, your girlfriend, whom you would like to settle on but she is suspicious, and believes this other woman is telling the truth."

"Yes, and I can't convince her otherwise."

"Quite the quagmire."

"Quite, and I don't suppose that being a priest you're an expert on women or relationships."

"I'm no expert on women but I have helped quite a few couples through difficulties in they're relationships. And I am a pretty astute student of human nature."

"What do you think I should do?"

"I think you should go to this woman who you rejected and reason with her. Explain how she is hurting not only you but your girlfriend and ask her to tell your girlfriend the truth."

"I don't think that'll work. She's insane."

"Then you'll have to find some way to prove to your girl that you're telling the truth. Ask her to verify some facts with the other party and see if you can catch her in her lie."

"You're kind of sneaky for a priest."

"Sometimes the best way to trap a tiger is to dig a pit for him to fall into. Lies have a way of unraveling when the truth is presented; all you have to do is dig the hole and lead her to it."

"Right, I can do that. It's been great talking with you father. If you'll forgive me, I have a trap to set."

"God be with you my son. And don't forget, our doors are always open. Ahhh, I'll never see him again"

Doug quickly called Becca and asked her to help catch Barbie in her lie. He did his best to explain to her what the priest had said about the tiger and the trap, but it didn't translate as well when he said it.

"You went to see a priest?" Becca asked in disbelief.

"Well, not on purpose. I found myself in a church and we just started talking."

"So what should I ask her?"

"Anything you know you can disprove. Ask her where we meet and how often and when the last time was. She's lying, so this should be easy. You know me and she doesn't. Ask her things only you would know."

"You went to see a priest."

"Yes. Why is that so hard to believe?"

"I'm just shocked. This is really bothering you isn't it?"

"Of course it is Becca! How would you feel if someone said something about you that wasn't true?"

"I would feel angry and hurt."

"Exactly, why do you think I'm going through all this?"

"I'm not going to ask Barbie anything about you."

"Why not?"

"Because I believe you."

"You do?"

"Yes. If it were true, than you just wouldn't care. You would just realize you had been caught and move on. Besides, I was thinking about it and there's no way you would have time to be fooling around on me. We're together every second we can be and when were not were talking on the phone or texting."

"Thank you."

"We can't go on not trusting one another. If there's no trust then there's nothing."

"It means a lot that you believe me."

"I do think we should find a different gym though."

"Oh no, we are going to go down there and have a chat with the manger and let him know what his employees are up to. We didn't do anything wrong, we're not the one's who should be inconvenienced."

XXII

Doug seemed to be slaying his demons one by one as they crept in from his past. He was beginning to understand the wrongs he had done and was willing to accept the challenge of righting them as they came up. Of course there was one thing he wasn't ready to face, and that was what he had done to Harry. The whole episode continued to play on his mind and work on his conscience. There were times when he thought he might explode with guilt. But he knew that there was no point in confessing. Nothing he could do now would change what he had done. All this talk of karma was eating at him though. When was he going to have to pay for this sin? Around every corner he expected to be confronted by someone or something that would tie him back to Pamoja and the people she had hired to kill Harry. Doug decided to go to the Oaks for a drink. He walked down to the outside tiki bar where he saw Skip Patterson sipping a tall green and yellow colored rum drink. He glanced at the chalkboard and it read 'today's special – yellow tailed parrot.'

"Hot one today eh Skip?"

"Mm, try one of these yellow tailed parrots. Day like a cool breeze off de ocean mon." He said it with a very bad Jamaican accent.

"Ok, I'll have one."

"I talked to a real estate agent this week to see if there were any other properties similar to this one for sale in the area. I figured if Harry's not going to retire we might as well start looking for another spot."

"That's pretty proactive of you Skip. I didn't think you were all that keen on getting started. You seemed to have cold feet when we began talking about this, and they seemed to get colder as we got closer to a deal with Harry."

"I've had time to think about it some more Doug, and while I don't think we need to rush into anything, I think we should definitely do this. I don't want to spend the rest of my life working for someone else."

"Right you are. Was your real estate agent able to find anything for us?"

"Nothing on the market right now." The bartender sat Doug's drink down in front of him and he took a sip. "This is interesting what's in it?"

"It's kind of a mojito with a hint of pineapple and banana," replied the bartender. "The mint makes it seem colder than it is and the pineapple and rum give it that Caribbean feel."

"This is your own concoction then I assume?"

"It is."

"Well done my good man! I think you've got something here." The bartender smiled at his own ingenuity and went back to his work. Doug looked out over the bar at the river and watched the boats cruise in and out of the adjacent harbor. Doug ordered another parrot and then another. It was a perfect summer afternoon. Hot, but sitting under the thatch roof of the bar with a cold drink and a slight breeze coming in off the water and a nice little buzz from the rum.

"What a nice way to spend an afternoon." He said out loud but more or less to himself.

"You got that right!" Skip chimed in. Doug was so swept away by the atmosphere he had almost forgotten Skip was there. Doug looked over at Skip.

"Where's the lovely Lacey today Skip?"

"She'll be around shortly. How about you, your flying solo, where's Becca?"

"Working."

"On Saturday? Yuck!"

"The hospital requires her to work some weekends."

"Yeah well, somebody has to look after the sick; even on Saturdays."

"How you boys doing?" Came a voice from behind them. They turned to see detective Polk and Deputy Bucky Cooper standing behind them.

Doug was too buzzed and calm to give them much of a reaction. But he was surprised to see them standing there. Skip spoke first. "We're just about right I think detective."

"You look it."

"What brings you out here?"

"We still have an open investigation."

"What are you investigating? Harry's just inside there, safe and sound."

"There was still an attempted murder and kidnapping here and we need to get to the bottom of it. Those are very serious crimes." Doug remained stoic and didn't even turn around to address them.

"Any leads?" asked Skip.

"We have a few things to run down, but nothing concrete....yet." Detective Polk kept his eyes on Doug, looking for any reaction that he may have to their comments.

"You boys heard anything around town or around the bar here that you think might help us."

"No, can't say as I have," said Skip.

"How about you Mr. Carlson, you heard anything new?" Doug turned slowly around on his barstool. "First off my name is Doug; Mr. Carlson's my dad. But no, I haven't been around much lately to tell you the truth."

"I've heard that about you. Ever since Harry turned back up you've been somewhat elusive. Some people might just say that's coincidence, but it strikes me as kind of odd. Maybe it's just the detective in me." Galvanized by rum, Doug remained unmoved.

"I haven't exactly moved into a cave now have I? I'm sitting right here. And I'll be happy to answer any questions you might have, just as I did before. I don't have anything to hide."

"Ok, what were you doing in Overton just a short time before Harry disappeared?"

"I don't remember being in Overton."

"That's funny. I ran your name through our system and a Trooper Dan Taylor has a record of a traffic stop. He says you were getting sick on the side of the road and he stopped to check on you. Who do you know out in Overton Doug?" Doug's mind was racing now. Is he asking me because he already knows about Pamoja to see if I'll lie, or does he just not know? And why is he asking me who I know instead of what was I doing out there? I'll have to take a chance. "I don't believe I know anyone out in Overton."

"Then what were you doing out there?"

"I'm sure I don't remember. That was some time ago."

"There's not much out there. You would think if you drove all the way out to a rural little town like Overton you would remember the reason."

"Sorry. You guys must be really grasping at straws if you're following up on my whereabouts. No other suspects?"

"You seem to be the only one with a motive, and the only one to have had an altercation with Mr. Sheehan prior to his disappearance."

"Well, if you ask around or just ask Harry himself, he'll tell you that we patched things up before any of this happened. Besides, he's back; if I was there when he was kidnapped he would have recognized me, don't you think?"

"I'm aware of that. Harry doesn't think you had anything to do with it."

"Then why the twenty questions?"

"Just doing our jobs, checking out everything and everyone."

"Did you ever think that someone was just trying to rob Harry or hold him for ransom?"

"We're considering all possibilities. So let me see if I understand the situation correctly. You guys wanted to buy this place from Harry and he refused to sell. You Doug got angry about it and had a slight altercation with Harry. Is that right?"

"That's right. But like I said we patched things up."

"Of course you did. I guess it wouldn't look good if he were to disappear while you were in the middle of a disagreement. I guess that's lucky for you."

"It wouldn't matter to me one way or another detective. I didn't have anything to do with it."

"If Harry were to meet with an unfortunate demise it would have left this place without an owner or an heir, which means you would have been able to buy it at auction, and probably at a discounted price."

"As it so happens detective, Harry willed this place to Bill in the event that something was to happen to him."

"I'm afraid not."

"What do you mean? Bill told me that himself."

"When did he tell you that?"

"Shortly after Harry disappeared."

"You inquired about it then?"

"Sure, why not?"

"I think why is the better question. But I'm afraid Bill told you a little fib Doug. There was no heir, no will, nothing. I'm sure if you would have had more time; a good lawyer would have looked into it and have expedited the sale of Harry's property. So you see you're the only one who really had anything to gain by Harry's death." A look of surprise came over Doug's face, that didn't go unnoticed by Detective Polk.

"Well I wouldn't want to get the place that way. In fact Skip and I are looking into other properties since Harry isn't ready to retire. And furthermore it was Harry who convinced us to do just that. Isn't that right Skip?"

"Huh? Oh yeah, that's right."

"So you see detective, not only would we not want anything to happen to our friend Harry; we look to him as sort of a mentor in this whole thing."

"Uh Huh, well If either of you hear anything be sure to let us know." Detective Polk handed each of them a business card. As they walked away detective Polk turned to Bucky. "Did you see the look on his face when I told him the place would have been up for grabs if Harry didn't turn up?"

"Yes, but you know he actually did leave the place to Bill, why did you tell him different?"

"Just to see his reaction."

"Shouldn't we be looking into Bill? He _was_ the one who really had something to gain."

"Harry didn't tell him until after he came back. Bill had no idea. Besides, I have a feeling in my gut about Doug Carlson. He's the only one I can figure had any real reason to want Harry gone; and the only one with a cold enough heart to do something. I'd bet my bottom dollar that he arranged something and that it had to do with someone out in Overton. I'm going to go out there and see what I can find out. It's a small town; someone may remember seeing Doug around."

"By the way, we were able to track down Candy Bruyere just outside of New Orleans. She left a number where she could be reached."

Meanwhile Doug was steaming back at the bar. "Give me a beer; these parrots are getting a bit too sweet for me."

"Don't let those guys rattle you Doug," said Skip.

"Can't a guy get a break? Christ! I'm getting married and settling down. Harry's back and he's fine, why don't they just leave things be?"

"They're just doing their jobs. Harry was kidnapped and shot. I'm sure they just want to find out who did it."

"Well it sure as hell wasn't me! Harry gave them a description and I don't come anywhere close. Why are they breaking my balls?" Doug was blind sided by the troopers report showing him in Overton. How long would it be before they connected me to Pamoja? He thought.

"C'mon Doug, have another beer." Doug finished his beer and got another. Skip spun around on his stool and surveyed the crowd. "Doug you need to relax, just look at all the girls in here. Look at those two over there." Skip nodded towards a small table where two very pretty young girls were sitting having drinks, a blonde on the left and a brunette on the right, in bikinis, sipping tall fruity cocktails from straws. They noticed the two boys sitting at the bar and were giggling and talking to each other. Skip raised his glass towards them and gave them a little nod; they smiled and laughed the way girls do.

"You see Doug, in the old days we would have been all over them; like shooting fish in a barrel, right? Am I right? You were the king around here Doug. Mr. Charm, you could pick any one of them out of the crowd and lay it on so thick they almost fell over with their legs in the air." Doug couldn't help but smile and chuckle at the thought of some of his past conquests. He turned and looked around the patio and saw all the pretty girls and people having fun on a beautiful Saturday afternoon. And soon he forgot all about the police. Doug and Skip turned back towards the bar and sipped at their beers. "Yeah, we used to tear it up in here didn't we?"

"Yeah we did!"

"That's all behind us now though right Skip?"

"That's right and that's ok. What we have now is better, isn't it?"

"Are you trying to convince me or yourself?"

"I don't need convincing. But I have to say; this place is just overflowing with gorgeous woman today. Good God!"

"I hope Lacey gets here soon or I may not be able to control you."

"That's right; she is supposed to be coming isn't she."

"Hello."

"Hi"." Two voices came from behind them. It was the two girls from the table that Skip had noticed a few minutes earlier.

"I'm Wendy and this is my friend Cindy."

"Wendy and Cindy, what a great set of names," Skip replied.

"I'm Skip and this is my recently engaged friend Doug." Doug looked at Skip with shock.

"Oh congratulations, that's so nice," said Cindy. "How long have you been engaged?"

"Just a couple of weeks actually."

"Well we wouldn't want to spoil anything, but it sure is lonely sitting over there all by ourselves. Can we join you guys up here at the bar?"

"Only if you'll let us buy you a drink," Skip quickly responded.

"Sure." The girls sat at the bar on stools to the right of Skip while Doug sat to his left.

"Where are you girls from?"

"We came over from Annapolis."

"That's a pretty long drive to just come over here and have a drink."

"Oh we didn't drive. That's our boat out there." Wendy pointed to a sixty-foot hatteras moored in the creek.

"Wow, that's a nice rig," said Skip.

"You want to check it out?" said Cindy. Skip looked at Doug as if to say what do we do?

Doug shrugged his shoulders. "You guys think about it for a minute while we go powder our noses." The girls got up and headed towards the main building.

"Dude, are you fucking kidding me? They're practically inviting us aboard for drinks and inevitably sex!" said Skip.

"Yeah and your girlfriend is due to show up here any time."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck ,fuck! Why does this shit have to happen today? This shit never happens when you're single." Skip broke out his cell phone and quickly called Lacey.

"Hey Lace, what's up, are you coming down to the Oaks or what? Doug and I have been sitting here waiting."

"My mom is still here and it doesn't look like she's leaving anytime soon so I don't think I'll be able to make it."

"Oh that's too bad. Ok then, I'll catch up with you later." Skip hung up his cell and turned to Doug. "I'm clear dude."

"Skip are you sure you want to do this?"

"How often does something like this happen? It's a golden opportunity. Two beautiful girls with a great boat have just asked us to hang out with them. They live on the other side of the bay, they know we have girlfriends and don't care. We'd be crazy not to jump at this!"

"I'm just saying, you're a little drunk and you might feel differently tomorrow."

"Listen to you, Mr. Morality all of the sudden! It wasn't too long ago you would be the one trying to talk me into doing this."

"I'm not making any judgments; I'm just saying you should think about it."

"Did you see them? We're not talking about a couple of skanks at 1AM up in Elkton. These are beautiful, voluptuous, very very hot women who want us. This is the dream scenario man, we got to do this."

"They're coming back, last chance to change your mind." Skip was entranced watching the two girls walk towards them from across the patio. Their long hair, the sun glistening off their tight tan slightly sweaty skin, bikini tops straining against the weight of their breasts, it was more than Skip could handle.

"So do you guys want to go for a ride or what?" said Wendy.

"Yes we do." Said Skip

"You go ahead Skip, Ill wait here." Skip looked at Doug as if he had lost his mind.

"Oh c'mon" said Cindy as she wrapped her arm in Doug's "I promise we'll be good. We'll just go out to the boat and have a drink, and go for a little cruise."

"It's just a boat ride and a drink Doug. You're not doing anything wrong." The three of them looked at Doug and waited for his response. He seemed outnumbered and felt a little pressure to comply. He reluctantly agreed. "I guess it would ok." As they headed down the pier to the dingy to take tem out to the boat Doug looked around to make sure there was no one there that might know them. He felt guilty and didn't want to do anything to jeopardize his relationship with Becca. The coast was clear. They headed out across the river. Harry caught site of them from inside the bar. "Hey Bill. Get a load of this" as he pointed out towards Doug and Skip and the two girls. "Whatever had been affecting Doug must have worn off. It looks like he talked Skip into a little extra curricular activity with those two young girls."

"Wow, look at those two. I don't think Skip needed much convincing."

"You know the drill. If either of their girls comes in looking for them, run interference."

"I know. I've been a bartender a long time Harry." As they approached the boat Doug looked her over. A mild yellow hull, sleek curves, natural wood deck, fly bridge, she was a beauty. They docked the dingy and climbed aboard. Doug walked up onto the main deck and into the cabin. There was a couch, thirty-seven inch plasma screen TV, fully equipped bar. He stepped up to the Captains chair and viewed the impressive instrumentation. He turned to see Skip walking in behind him. Skip headed over towards the bar and opened the fridge. He reached in and grabbed two bottles of beer.

"Nice boat." Skip said as he looked around the cabin. He walked over to Doug and handed him a beer. "Still sorry you came?"

"Where are the girls?"

"Untying us." Skip ran down the stairs to see the staterooms. He called up the stairs "Dude! You got to come see this." Doug went over to the stairs and looked down.

"There's three beds down here man!" yelled Skip.

"C'mon back up here Skip."

"Fuck you, I'm getting naked right now. Ahhh haaa!!" Doug laughed.

"Come back up here and chill out you freak. You're going to scare these girls and they'll dump us in the river." Skip emerged from the below staterooms, fully dressed. Wendy came bouncing into the cabin. "Ok guys you ready to go?"

"Go where?" said Doug.

"For a ride silly."

"You really drive this big thing?"

"Sure, c'mon up to the bridge." Wendy made herself comfortable and fired up the engines. She looked at Doug who was standing next to her watching. "Twin Cats." Doug listened to the clean sounding diesels turn over as they started to slowly move down the creek towards the Tred Avon River. They putted past the point and made the left hand turn down the river towards open water. As they cleared the no wake zone Wendy pushed the twin throttles up and the boat lifted up on plane. "She's a big boat, how's she handle?" asked Doug.

"It cruises nicely at about 25 knots, but she'll go 30 if I want her to. Here take the helm." Doug moved into the Captain's chair and began to drive her down the river towards the bay. It was a perfect day on the water. Not a cloud in the sky, only a slight breeze blowing, just enough to keep the heat from being too stifling, smooth sailing all across the Chesapeake Bay. They cruised down the bay. Out past Sharp Island Light and past the Diamonds when Wendy took back the helm and backed the motors down. Once the boat drifted to a stop she dropped anchor. Doug looked back into the main cabin and Skip was sitting on the couch with Cindy. She was sitting next to him with her legs lying across his lap. "It looks like they're getting along ok doesn't it?" Wendy said to Doug.

"I had a feeling they might."

"Come with me." Wendy grabbed Doug's hand and pulled him through the cabin to the rear deck. They took a seat opposite one another at a small cocktail table. Doug leaned back and took a drink from his beer and looked out over the water. Not another boat was in site. "Woooo!!!" Cindy came running out of the cabin past Doug and Wendy tossing her top off as she went by.

"Let's go swimming," she yelled as she opened the back hatch and stepped down onto the swim platform. Skip was right behind her hopping along with his pants around his legs trying to keep up.

"Leave your boxers on Skip. You wouldn't want anything dangling to get bitten off by a bluefish." Doug yelled to him as he made his way to the swim platform. Skip just stood there with a dumb kind of smile wrestling with his pants.

"Why don't you try taking your shoes off dipshit?" said Doug. Cindy stood on the platform topless with her hands on her hips and waited for Skip to get out of his clothes. Doug couldn't help but notice her breasts, big and round, with pink nipples, and a fairly obvious breast enhancement scar around each areola.

"She paid for them, so she likes to show them off." Wendy whispered to Doug as she watched Cindy and Skip jump into the bay. Doug stood up and looked down at the two of them fluttering around in the water.

"C'mon you guys." Cindy yelled. Doug looked to see Wendy, now also topless sexily slink past him, her long brown hair draped down over her shoulders, her breasts weren't as big as Cindy's but they were magnificent, perfectly formed, and dark brown nipples that looked like they had been gently molded by an artists hands. She looked at Doug, her head slightly tilted down, her mouth open slightly and her right toe pointed down toward the swim platform as she eased herself into the water. Doug couldn't help but notice how elegant she seemed. Everything she did, every move she made had purpose and style. Doug took off his shoes and rolled up his pant legs and stepped down onto the swim platform. He sat down on the edge with his feet and legs in the water ad drank his beer while he watched the others swim. Wendy swam up to the platform and rested on her folded her arms next to Doug.

"Aren't you coming in?"

"No, too much like exercise, I think I'll just watch." She lifted herself up out of the water and sat next to Doug. Doug reached behind him for a towel and handed it to her. She got up and headed back onto the deck and into the cabin. Doug followed her as far as the deck but didn't enter the cabin. She came back out with two beers and handed one to Doug. She leaned back against the rail looking at Doug. Doug looked at her standing there; she was the picture of seductiveness. He took a big gulp from his beer. She could see that he was fighting her with everything he had. She reached over and grabbed his shirt collar. She pulled him to her and put her lips against his. Doug had fought the good fight, but he was defeated, when suddenly their kiss was interrupted by a yell.

"Yayyyyy!!"

WooooooHoooo!!!" Skip and Cindy had seen them from the water. Doug looked over Wendy's shoulder and noticed two fins in the water. "Is that a shark?" he said.

"That's not even funny man."

"I'm not kidding dude! What is that?" Skip and Cindy didn't wait to find out they swam as fast as they could towards the boat. "Hurry! Hurry! They're getting closer!" Doug yelled. He looked at Wendy who seemed strangely calm. Skip and Cindy hopped up on the swim platform and up onto the deck. "They're skates" said Wendy.

"Skates?"

"Yes, Skates. They're a type of ray. They're harmless. They might give you a hickey if one latches onto you, but that's about it."

Skip still a little shook up looked out at the fins in the water. "No way, that's two sharks!"

"Watch they're coming closer to the boat. They're just swimming along the surface of the water looking for food. The tips of their wings stick out and it looks a little like two little sharks swimming next to each other. See there they go." Skip looked over the rail and watched them go by. He could see the dark shapes under the water as they swam by.

"No shit. Skates? I need a drink."

"Me too" said Cindy. Skip and Cindy went into the cabin and Doug and Wendy remained out on the deck.

"Yeah that's what I'm talking about!" Skip yelled from inside the cabin. Wendy looked in to see what was going on.

"What are they doing?" asked Doug.

"Tequila shots."

"Great." Wendy walked back towards Doug. "Listen Wendy, I think you're great and very attractive, but I'm committed to someone and I really don't want to screw that up."

"I'm not asking you to. But you're here, and I'm here, and look the sun is going down." Doug looked towards the horizon and the sky was bright with hues of red and orange.

"Your friend is about one more drink away from going downstairs with Cindy. Let's just make the most of this; no strings." Her voice softened as she spoke and slipped her arms around Doug's waist. She kissed Doug and he didn't resist. She took him by the hand and led him back into the cabin. They could hear Skip and Cindy laughing from one of the staterooms down below.

"Fix me a drink and I'll be right back." Wendy said as she descended the steps to her room. Doug went behind the bar and proceeded to look over the impressive collection of booze. He made himself a Manhattan; he needed something with a little more puissance than beer. Something he could sip slowly; a vodka martini for her. He playfully tossed the ice cubes into the glasses and mixed the drinks. As he was carefully pouring Glenfiddich into his glass he saw Wendy emerge from below in an Andres Sarda Chemise. It was gold with black lace trim that poured itself over her tan flesh and hugged her hips perfectly, not too tight, not too loose; Just enough to make a man ache to run his hands over it. Doug almost forgot he was pouring from a $350.00 bottle of whiskey. He tilted it back up just as the amber liquor filled his glass. She leaned back against the wall next to the doorway and tilted her head back slightly. Doug took the two drinks and carefully walked towards her. She turned without saying a word and motioned for him to follow her down the stairs. The second she turned away from him so she couldn't see him he took a gulp of his drink. He followed her down the stairs and into her room where he saw a large round bed covered with a gold satin bedspread. She turned and lay back on the bed. Doug shut the door behind him. He could no longer hear Skip and Cindy in the other room. He set the drinks down on the table and walked over to the bed. She reached her arms over her head and began to writhe sensually up and down the bed. Doug, not believing his eyes watched her as he undressed. Her top began to ride up to expose her naked body underneath. Doug leaned down and began kissing her stomach and slowly, carefully moving downward. She reached down and grabbed his hair and pulled him back up to her face. She pushed him over onto his back then leaned over and reached into the drawer of her nightstand for a condom. She reached down without looking and rolled the condom down over Doug's now hard member and proceeded to climb on top of him. She lowered herself down slowly, taking him in. Doug ran his hands over her breasts that were still covered by the beautiful gold lingerie. It was so beautiful and felt so good he didn't want to take it off of her. He fondled her breasts through the silky material and lightly pinched and squeezed her nipples as she moved back and forth at an ever-increasing rate. He could feel her tightening around him as she moved. Her vagina contracted and loosened with every move she made. He had never felt anything like it before. He closed his eyes and concentrated on what he was feeling inside of her. Wet, tight, muscular contractions; he listened to her moan in her low sultry voice. Even as she climaxed she never lost control of what she was doing, she maintained the steady rhythmic motion that she had started until they both were finished.

An hour later he lay in her bed with her nestled in the crook of his arm. He thought he would feel guilty about being with her, but somehow she made him feel ok about it. She said no strings. I hope she meant it he thought to himself. Wendy looked up at Doug.

"Are you ok?" she said.

"I am. I didn't think I would be, but I am. I really thought I was going to feel terribly guilty about this, but I don't."

"I told you no strings."

"People don't always mean what they say."

"How could I expect anything from you? We just met a few hours ago."

"Maybe that's it? I hardly know you. Maybe that's why I don't feel so guilty."

"Maybe? I like to think I provide a memorable experience without interfering in the lives of my clients."

"Clients?"

"This is what I do."

"You mean you're a professional? I hope you're not expecting me to pay."

"Of course not, I have a personal life to you know. When I see something I want or someone I think I might like to get to know better I act. I was hoping we could be friends. I would never pick up a prospective client in a bar. It's too dangerous."

"I think I could get used to being your friend."

"I don't usually sleep with my friends. You could arrange to see me professionally if you like?"

"I've never needed the help of a professional in that area before."

"That's the way most men feel about it when they're young."

"How much, if you don't mind me asking, do you, uh, charge?"

"$1000 an hour. There's a six hour minimum."

"People have sex for six hours?"

"Don't be silly. I'm an escort not a hooker. My clients are professional men who are usually looking for someone to spend time with when they're away from home. I keep them company; provide a social interaction for them. Sex sometimes isn't involved at all."

"Men pay you $6000.00 just to hang out with you? You must be a great conversationalist."

"I like to think so. I've studied in some of the best schools, I have an economics degree from Princeton, I'm fluent in seven different languages, I have a great deal of proficiency in several sports other than the one I'm paid for."

"You're amazing."

"Thank you. If I were just a good lay I would be standing on a street corner fighting over $20 dollar johns. No thank you."

"How did you find yourself in this business?"

"I was in New York taking a class at NYU. I met a man in a bar, quite a bit older than me. He was there on business. We began chatting, had drinks and dinner and we wound up spending the night together. The next morning he insisted on paying me. He gave me $500. At first I was insulted, but at the time I really needed the money. He was really a gentleman about it and managed to make me feel the money was more of a gift than a payment. He told a couple of his friends about me and I agreed to see them when they were in town. The next thing I knew my name was out on the Internet and I was getting rave reviews. I started getting calls from all sorts of men and it made me very nervous. After all what I was doing was illegal. If I got arrested it could have ruined my life. Everything I worked for, my education all would be lost. Not to mention the fact that I was scared."

"So what did you do?"

"I got a call from a woman who ran an escort service and she was able to screen calls, she taught me how to check on the men who were inquiring about me. She taught me everything. I worked for her for three years, and she was great, but I got tired of giving her half of my income for doing the screening that I could do on my own. I only take referrals at this point in my career."

"So you had a female pimp?"

"We prefer to call them agents."

"Pimp kind of turns me on though. So how did I get so lucky?"

"Right place, right time; I'm entitled to some fun to you know."

"Yes you are. What about Cindy is she an escort too?"

"Oh god no! She's just a friend. Could you imagine?"

"Does she know what you do?"

"She chooses to not know."

"What does that mean?"

"It means she kind of knows but she doesn't acknowledge it or talk about it or ask me about it. We just hang out and have fun together."

"What does she do?"

"She's a nurse" A cold chill ran down Doug's spine. Wendy could see the discomfort in Doug's face.

"What's wrong?"

"My fiancé's a nurse."

"Don't worry; there are a lot of nurses. I doubt this would ever come up, assuming Cindy will remember any of this tomorrow. Are you going to be ok?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. In fact knowing what I know about you now actually makes me feel a lot better." Doug reached for his drink and took a sip. "The ice had melted and thinned out this good whisky. I'm going to freshen my drink. Would you like a refill?"

"No thanks."

Doug grabbed a robe from Wendy's closet and headed out to the main cabin and over to the bar. He looked out the window and could see the lights on the shoreline in the distance. He walked out onto the deck with his drink and gazed out over the bay. It was a warm night and the water was still as a millpond with the exception of the occasional fish breaking the top of the water. Doug sat down at the little table on the rear deck to have his drink and enjoy the night air. He lifted the glass of Glenfidich to his nostrils and breathed in the rich woody aroma. When he had finished his drink he made himself another and walked back into Wendy's stateroom where she had fallen asleep. He watched her for a while and finished his drink then carefully crawled in bed next to her.

The next morning Doug woke up to find that Wendy had already gone out to the galley and had made breakfast.

"Good morning." She said as Doug walked into the galley.

"Good morning to you." Doug leaned over to kiss her but stopped short saying "Is this ok? I don't want to break any of your rules."

"I shouldn't have told you what I do. Now you're going to treat me differently."

"I'm sorry. I've never been with someone like you before and I'm not quite sure how to act."

"Act, I would hope that you're not putting on an act."

"You know what I mean. Let me start over. Good morning." Doug leaned over to kiss her and this time he did not hesitate.

"Have Skip or Cindy emerged yet?" Doug asked.

"No, I don't know how well your friend bounces back, but I don't expect to see Cindy until after noon."

"That's no good. I have to get Skip back before his girlfriend starts looking for him. In fact it would be a good idea for me to get back some time this morning as well."

"It's only nine o'clock. Join me for some breakfast and a mimosa and I'll take us back in after."

"That sounds good."

After breakfast Wendy excused her self from the table and soon returned in the doorway.

"Doug." Doug turned to see Wendy standing naked in the doorway. Doug was speechless. "I was going to take a shower before we headed back. Care to join me?" Doug nodded and walked off with Wendy.

After a very refreshing and relaxing shower Wendy fired up the engines and they began to head back in towards Oxford. Skip, was awakened by the sound of the engines and the motion of the boat and soon stumbled out into the main cabin.

"Oh my god." He said as he held his head in agony.

"How you feeling there old buddy?" asked Doug.

"Ohhh" Skipped moaned.

"We're on our way back in. Did you have a good time last night?" Doug spoke a bit too loud for Skip and shook him by the shoulders as he spoke.

"I feel like shit man."

"Tequila will do that to you my friend. Don't worry; I'll have you home in no time, how about a drink?"

"Oh my god no!" Skip moaned and lay back on the couch. Doug laughed and went back up to the helm with Wendy. As they approached Oxford Doug asked Wendy to drop them off at the ferry dock, which is just a few blocks away from the Oaks. "Wendy, I can't begin to tell you how much I enjoyed spending time with you."

"Here's my number. Call me anytime." She handed Doug a card.

"Would that call have to be business related?"

"No, call me anytime you want. I don't suppose I would be able to call you though?"

"Here's my number. Don't be upset if I can't always answer."

"I understand." Doug helped Skip up onto the dock.

"What are we doing all the way down here?" asked Skip.

"I didn't think it would be a good idea for them to drop us off at the Oaks not knowing who might be hanging around. Besides, the fresh air will do you good." The boys began walking up Morris Street towards the Oaks. Doug looked around the little town with a renewed sense of himself. For the first time in months he felt normal. Skip on the other hand was still suffering from a hangover. "Fuck!"

"What's wrong Skip?"

"I have three missed calls, all from Lacey."

"That's ok. Listen, we left the Oaks and went back to my house to hang out. You had too much to drink and crashed at my place. No big deal."

"What if she finds out?"

"How's she going to find out?"

"I feel like shit man. I shouldn't have talked you into going. You wanted to stay here and I practically begged you to go. Now we're both fucked!"  
"Nobody's fucked! You just feel like shit because your hung-over and feeling guilty. You got to let that shit go. We'll head over to my house right now and you'll call Lacey from there. Tell her your battery died and you didn't get her calls. She'll see my name on her caller ID and you'll be in the clear."

"What the fuck did I do? I'm such an asshole. This isn't like me."

"You're right, it's not like you. I was surprised myself." The boys carefully looking to see that no one that mattered was around slipped into Doug's car and headed back to his house. Skip called Lacey from Doug's phone and gave her the story Doug had prepared for him, and everything was cool. "She knew I was lying."

"No she didn't. You're being paranoid. Go home and get some sleep. I promise you'll feel better when you wake up."

"Maybe you're right."

"I know I am."

XXIII

"Ms. Bruyere?"

"Yes."

"This is detective Polk of the Maryland State Police. I'm calling to ask you a few questions about Mr. Harry Sheehan. You are aware that he has returned and is in good health?"

"Yes, I can't express how happy I was to find out that he was ok."

"Harry tells us that you were romantically involved at the time of his disappearance?"

"That's right."

"Did you have a disagreement or a falling out prior to the incident?"

"No, everything was going so well."

"Do you recall him having any arguments or hear him arguing with anyone on the phone during the time you were together?"

"No, everyone just loved Harry."

"Is there anything that you can tell us about Harry's associations that might help us understand why he was kidnapped?"

"Harry is a dear sweet man. He had no enemies that I'm aware of."

"Forgive me, but it strikes me as odd that you would move away while he was missing. Can you tell what prompted you to move back to New Orleans?"

"I couldn't help feel responsible in some way for what happened. And I just couldn't bare to be around there and be reminded of Harry."

"Why would you feel responsible? Did you have anything to do with what happened?"

"Oh good heavens no, but my relationship with Harry was entered into under false pretenses. I consulted a spiritual guide and she felt that the negative energy I created by lying might have been responsible for what happened. And it looks like she was right. As soon as I left, Harry turned up safe and sound."

"What did you lie to him about?"

"Oh, nothing very important, it was just a little thing, but it was the foundation that our relationship was set upon, and just like a house, a relationship on a bad spiritual foundation is going to fall."

"Uh huh, and a spirit told you this?"

"No, I do not possess the ability to commune with spirits. I consulted someone who does."

"Like a medium or card reader, that sort of thing?"

"Yes, Miss Pamoja in Overton. She is the only true medium in that area."

"In Overton you say?"

"Yes." Detective Polk's curiosity was peaked at the mention of Overton. This little town seems to be quite popular among the residents of Oxford.

"Ms. Bruyere, do you know a Doug Carlson?"

"I've met him. He used to come into Harry's place from time to time."

"Do you know why he might have visited Overton?"

"Why no, I don't know him very well. Why do you ask?"

"Just curious, nothing to be concerned about. Thank you for your time Ms. Bruyere. Should I give Harry a message for you?"

"Oh no, I don't want to be any more trouble to him. Please don't tell him you spoke to me."

"As you wish. Thank you again for your help."

It looks like I'll be taking a ride out to Overton.

Detective Polk drove out to Overton and found the little store where Pamoja sold her trinkets and gave spiritual advice. He pulled into the dirt parking lot and began looking around. The place wasn't much more than a shack. He walked around the outside of the building to see if there was anything of interest that might give him a clue as to what Pamoja's real story was, if there was one. Truth was, he didn't expect to find much. As usual Deirdre was inside and she when heard someone walking around outside she went out to investigate. She walked slowly out the front door onto the porch and looked both ways. She heard Detective Polk coming back around the corner.

"What you doing sneaking around out here?" she yelled.

"I'm sorry to have startled you." He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his badge and showed it to Deirdre. Deirdre took the badge and studied it carefully.

"What do you want?"

"I'm looking for a Pamoja Samura. Is she here?"

"Yes, she's inside." Deirdre led detective Polk into the store. "You wait. I'll go and get her." Deirdre disappeared into the back. "There's a cop here looking for you mum."

"A cop?"

"Yes."

"Did he say what he wants?"

"No, he asked to see you."

"Did you tell him I was here?"

"Yes, was I wrong to do that." Pamoja hesitated.

"No, I guess not. If day want to talk to ya, day gonna find a way sooner or later. Go on girl and tell da man I be right out." Deirdre went back out to Detective Polk.

"She'll be right with ya." Detective Polk nodded. Soon Pamoja emerged from the back room and very loudly welcomed Detective Polk. "Welcome officer. What can I do to help da police dis fine day. Any ting I can do to help da police, I'm appy to do it."

"Hello Ms. Samura. My name is Detective Polk of the Maryland State Police. I'd like to ask you a few questions about one of your customers."

"About one of my customers?"

"That's right, a Ms. Candy Bruyere." Pamoja was relieved to hear that he wanted to ask about someone else and not about her.

"I'm afraid that my customers don't always give their names, and sometimes when they do they don't give da real ones."

"Does the name ring a bell?"

"Now let me tink a minute...No, The name doesn't mean any ting ta me."

"She's a red haired woman with a deep southern accent. She would have been in here about 3 or 4 months ago. I would think she would be hard to forget." Pamoja knowing she couldn't play it off responded. "Oh yes, I tink I remember her. She was having troubles dat one."

"Did she mention any specifics?"

"I'm not as young as I once was Mr. I don't remember all the little things people tell me."

"Her gentleman friend at the time had gone missing, and I think she may have felt responsible."

"Oh yes, now I remember. She's da kind of lady that uses her gentlemen callers for her own purposes. Dis time her deception turned on her. She fell in love wit da man, and all da bad karma she had been collectin over da years came back on her. I told her she had to pay for what she'd done and give up dis man."

"Did you tell her she had to move away?"

"No, I don't tell people what to do. I tell them what is out of balance and they have to make a decision on how day gonna fix it."

"Did she mention anyone she might have thought was involved in Harry Sheehan's disappearance?"

"Harry Sheehan?"

"That's the name of her gentleman friend."

"No, I don't recall her mentioning anything about that."

"Did she happen to mention a Doug Carlson?" Pamoja's heart sank. She reached over and grabbed the counter that was near her to steady her."

"Are you ok Ms. Sumara?"

"Yes, I sometimes get these spells in the afternoon."

"Perhaps you should sit down." Polk grabbed a chair and positioned it behind Pamoja, and she sat down in it. "Do you know Doug Carlson?" Pamoja thought for a moment. She knew it wouldn't take this detective much to find out that she used to work for Doug's family.

"I used to work for a Mr. Carlson, who had a son named Doug. But that was years ago."

"Has Doug Carlson been out to see you recently?" Deirdre was listening intently from the other room.

"I don't tink Doug Carlson would even remember me. I was just a housekeeper, and one of many I'm sure dat Mr. Carlson employed over da years." Detective Polk decided to put some pressure on Pamoja.

"Look Pamoja, I'm going to be honest with you. I happen to know that Doug Carlson was out here. We have a record of it. Now do you want to tell me why he was here?"

"I don't know what you mean Mr."

"He was pulled over by a trooper out here near your place; you nearly fainted when I mentioned his name. Now do you want to tell me what's going on, or would you rather I arrest you on suspicion and take you downtown."

Deirdre burst out of the back room. "He was here to see me!" They both turned to look at Deirdre.

"Why would he be here to see you?" asked detective Polk.

"Because he's my father."

"I don't believe you."

"It's true. I have a paternity test to prove it." Pamoja looked at Deirdre with surprise. "It's true. I'm sorry mum; I went to him. I had to see for myself. You were right about them."

"So dare you have it Mr. Are you satisfied now? He came to see his daughter. He got my daughter, her mother pregnant when they were teenagers, and Deirdre here was da result. He keeps it secret from his family."

"Where's the mother?"

"Dead died of cancer several years ago. Now if you don't mind we'd like to get on wit our lives and not be bothered by da Carlsons no more." Polk looked at Pamoja for a moment without speaking. This strange bit of information would explain why Doug was in Overton, but not why he would lie about it. In any case, he figured his investigation in Overton was at a dead end.

"I understand. I'm sorry for upsetting you." Detective Polk got in his car and headed out of town. Why didn't he just tell me that he had a daughter out here? Why would he lie about it? Polk pondered the question as he drove.

Back in Overton, Pamoja was questioning Deirdre.

"Is this true? You went to see him."

"Yes, I'm sorry mum, but I"

"I understand child. He didn't want to know da truth did he?"

"Actually he was ok with it. His father though, He thought I was lying. Said I was just looking for a handout. So I told them I didn't want nothing to do with them."

"This business about a test, is this true?"

"Yes."

"He still felt the same?"

"They're not my family mum, you are."

"Its good dat you understand. I told him dat comin here was bad. Too many people know where you go nowadays, too easy to track."

"Then you're not angry?"

"I don't like dat you went behind my back. But since it worked out dis time, I let it go. But it don't happen again!"

"Yes, mum."

"I don't like this detective looking into our business. He brings a black cloud over me." Pamoja now realized that Harry was still alive. And she new as long as he was alive, she was in danger. Eventually the police would put things together and trace it back to her. She also new that she was going to have to get in touch with Doug to let him know that they had been there to talk to her. "You know how to get in touch wit Doug?" She asked Deirdre. "Yes mum."

"I want you to go to him and tell him I need to see him. Tell him to be more careful dis time and not to do something so stupid as get a traffic ticket."

"I'll tell him."

"Don't go to his house. Da police may be watching. Find someplace else."

"I know where he likes to hang out."

The next day Deirdre took the bus to Oxford as she had done before. She showed up at the Oaks but knowing she was underage she did not go inside, but rather hung out down by the docks and pretended to be just another tourist wandering around. It wasn't long before Doug showed up and went inside, not having noticed Deirdre. Doug was met at the bar by Harry. "Hello Doug. Did you boys have a good time last night?"

"What do mean Harry?"

"You know damn good and well what I mean. Bill and I saw you and Skip slip off with those two girls. What a couple of lookers they were to. I guess you didn't have much trouble talking Skip into that little tryst did you? But I have to say Doug, I don't think it's a good idea for you to be corrupting Skip like that. He's a good boy and has a good gal, and he shouldn't be running around."

"I'll have you know that it was Skip that talked me into going with those two girls."

"Come off it. I know better than that."

"I'm telling you the truth Harry. He was a little toasted and got to practically drooling over those two. He wouldn't let me off the hook."

"I think you mean it."

"I do. And to answer your question; we had a great time. Skip's still at home sleeping it off."

"I'm going to have to have a talk with that boy."

"Ahh, leave him alone Harry. He feels bad enough about it."

"Good! He should feel bad about it. I hadn't seen those two girls around here before."

"I don't think you will again. They were just out looking for a good time."

"I think you boys should bring your girls here for a nice dinner tonight to make up for it."

"Why, its not like they know anything about it?"

"Just the same, it'll help clear your conscience."

"I can live with myself, but if you think it'll help Skip, I'll mention it to him."

"I'll have a table waiting for you."

"Thanks Harry." Harry picked up his towel and headed back towards the kitchen. Doug turned to look out the window and saw Deirdre standing outside. He walked out to her.

"What are you doing here?" he said. Doug was angry at her being there. "You shouldn't be here!"

"Pamoja sent me. She needs to talk to you. The police were around our place asking questions about you."

"About me, what did they say?"

"That woman that Mr. Harry was seeing came to see Pamoja. The police found out and they asked if Pamoja new you."

"What did Pamoja say?"

"What could she say? She new they could easily find out that she worked for you father so she said yes."

"Shit! Did they ask why I was out there?"

"I told them you were my father, and that you had come to see me." Doug thought for a moment. "I guess that's ok. It's certainly a valid reason for being out there."

"Pamoja's afraid that if the men she hired find out, there's going to be trouble."

"Why? What do they care?"

"I don't know? Can you come back with me?"

"Let's go." They got into Doug's car and headed back out to Pamoja's. Pamoja was anxiously awaiting their arrival. "Come in." she said. "Did she tell you what happened?"

"She told me. But it doesn't sound like its anything to worry about."

"I got a bad feelin about dis."

"Pamoja, don't worry. I came out here to see my daughter, that's all. Why would they think anything else?"

"I don't know yet. But dese police, they know more than you tink."

"You're being paranoid."

"I don't get paranoid. I get messages."

"What do you mean messages."

"Dis feeling I got is strong. Someone from da other side tryin to warn me."

"There's nothing we can do about it now Pamoja. We just have to keep our heads and not over react."

"The men dat we hired to do dis thing gonna find out and da gonna go back and finish da job. Can't have no loose ends, can't have no witnesses."

"No! Pamoja, they don't have to know."

"Then you gonna have to pay the rest of the money." Doug thought for a minute. He knew she was right. If he refused to pa because they botched the job, they would just go back and finish it. Even if he didn't want them to, they would want to eliminate Harry.

"Ok, your right. We just have to act like nothing went wrong."

"I'll get the money and bring it back here tomorrow."

"No, don't come back here no more. I'll send Deirdre for da money."

"Fine." Doug looked at Deirdre. "Are you ok?" He reached for her hand and she quickly drew it away. She looked at him with disgust. "I'm not a monster. I made a mistake. I wish I could take it back, I swear it." Deirdre got up and walked away.

"She just a young girl she's been through an awful lot. Leave her be. I talk to her."

"Thanks Pamoja."

"I hope dis whole ting has learned you."

"Believe me it has."

"Come to visit your daughter again Doug?" They turned to see detective Polk standing in the doorway.

"How long have you been here?" Doug asked.

"Long enough, I think your going to have to come with me." Doug and Pamoja stood up and looked at one another, then back at detective Polk. Then a sudden "Bang!" They turned to look and saw Deirdre standing with a pistol drawn; smoke slowly drifting up from the barrel. Detective Polk dropped to the floor. Deirdre had shot him. Doug started over towards Deirdre, when he heard another shot. "Bang!" Deirdre's head flew back. Detective Polk had managed to draw his revolver and gotten off a shot. Doug spun around just to see Polk's hand drop to the floor. Pamoja ran to Deirdre and lifted her head. She had been shot through the throat; the back of her neck was blown out. "Noooo!!!! She shouted and she began crying uncontrollably. Doug ran over to Polk who had been shot through the chest. He could he the air sucking through the wound. He had been shot in the lung and was dying. Polk's eyes darted back and forth looking, begging for help. Doug just stood there watching. Polk began coughing and blood began spurting from his mouth. Doug stepped over him and put his foot on his neck. Polk's eyes widened as Doug applied pressure. Polk gulped and gasped, and finally he lay still. Doug walked over to see his daughter lying dead on the floor and Pamoja sprawled over her sobbing. Doug reached down and picked up the gun that was lying on the floor next to Deirdre's body.

"I never learned to love, only to want. My life has been a constant quest for things that made me happy but I never built anything, never helped anyone, never thought about or cared about anyone until now. I was given a daughter only to have her taken away. I was given a good woman only to betray her. I finally understand why I'm here, and now it's too late." Doug turned and walked slowly towards the door. He looked down at detective Polk's lifeless body. He continued out the door into the heat of the Sunday afternoon, past Polk's car that was sitting just outside. He continued to walk across the road and into the adjacent woods. He walked a few hundred yards, listening to the wind blow through the trees. He stopped and looked up at the rays of sunlight.

"I've always loved the woods. Nature always made me feel closer to god. I've never felt closer to god than I do right now." Doug put the gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger.

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Thank you for enjoying The Oaks, I hope you had a great time reading it! Please tell your friends about it and please connect with me online at:

http://www.PatrickBrownOnline.com

