 
Shadow Games

by Doug Welch

Smashwords Edition

* * * *

Copyright © 2010 Douglas R. Welch

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for downloading this eBook. This eBook is the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy at Smashwords.com or one of its retailers, where they can also discover other works by this author. The author welcomes reviews of his work. Thank you in advance for your support.

This book is a work of fiction. Characters, character's names, and incidents are a product of the author's imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

Caution: contains language which may not suitable for young children.
Table of Contents

Front Matter

Dedication

Chapter 1 One More Straw

Chapter 2 Death, Life and Lies

Chapter 3 Confusion, Wealth and Gypsies?

Chapter 4 Intruders, Guns, and a Diary

Chapter 5 Love at the Lake

Chapter 6 Dancing Shadows

Chapter 7 Shadows in the Machine

Chapter 8 Courtship and a History

Chapter 9 Lawyers and Love

Chapter 10 Guns and Lawyers

Chapter 11 Men Say it First

Chapter 12 Love under Shadows

Chapter 13 Death of a Friend

Chapter 14 Confronting Shadows

Chapter 15 Funeral and a Mission

Chapter 16 Meet the parent

Chapter 17 Desperate Flight to Ecstasy

Chapter 18 Specter of Success

Chapter 19 Coin Toss

Chapter 20 Busted

Chapter 21 Jailbreak

Chapter 22 A New Ally

Chapter 23 Back to the Farm

Chapter 24 Mind Glow

Chapter 25 Shadow Games

Epilogue
Dedication

This book is dedicated to my cousin and childhood friend, Donald W. Bowman 1944 - 2011.

Our adventures in the verdant hills, awesome caves and refreshing lakes and streams of Tennessee and Kentucky were the inspiration for much of this novel.

We worked on the farm with Don's older brother, (my cousin, Bob), and his father, my Uncle Fred.

In our free time, Don, Bob and I hunted the numerous Indian arrowheads that littered the ground, explored the caves in the hills, traveled the mountains, hollows and valleys, and drank from sweet, crystal-clear springs.

We swam in the numerous swimming holes to cool down from the summer heat, plucked juicy, crisp apples right off the tree, and when we still hungered, conspired to beg food and drinks from their mom, my Aunt Eva.

Don and I were the same age and we huddled together often, sharing boyhood secrets and dreams. When we found ourselves in trouble together, (not often, but we still managed to accomplish it) we faced his dad's justice together.

It was wonderful place and time to be a young boy.

I'll miss you, Don.
Chapter 1

### One More Straw

I jolted awake to the sound of a scream, halfway between a cry of anguish and a howl of rage.

"Paaaris!"

Disoriented, I wanted to hit the dirt and cower from mortar fire.

No, not Iraq. I'm at home, safe.

I shook it off and leaped out of bed. The sound had come from below. I'd slept in my underwear, so I jerked on my jeans, exited the bedroom, and thundered down the stairs.

"Paris!" The shout came from the study. It was still dark, so I fumbled along the wall and switched on the hall light.

I hurried to the room to find my sister at the entrance. Her face looked red and she trembled. She held a baseball bat over a body of a man slumped near Dad's desk. I moved past her frozen form to enter the room and clicked on the light.

_What the hell_ , I thought, still disoriented. Then I saw the dispatch case, open on the desk. Alongside the case was a manila envelope and near the envelope lay a few sheets of paper.

Alex looked up from her concentration on the man's still body. "This bastard was trying to steal the case!"

I'd just been roused from a sound sleep and it didn't help my concentration. I knelt to feel the unconscious man's pulse. "Call 911. – What happened?"

As though paralyzed, she didn't move. "I couldn't sleep, and I went down to the kitchen for a glass of water. I heard noises coming from the study so I found my old baseball bat and took it with me to check things out. I saw this guy rummaging through the case. When he saw me, he lunged at me, so I swung – hard. – Did I kill him?" Her eyes grew wide.

I ran my fingers through my sleep disheveled hair to get it out of my eyes. "No, but he's not going to be happy when he regains consciousness. I think I'd better stand guard while you call the police."

Alex glared at me. "Hey, I took him down and you're closer to the phone, so you make the call."

Swallowing a retort, I gingerly stepped over the unconscious man and grabbed the phone to call 911.

I turned to gaze at the burglar. "The police are on their way. – I wonder, what was this guy after? Could it be he was just looking for valuables and ran across the case?"

"No. He was reading one of the papers."

I gestured to the items on the table. "Is this all?"

Alex shook her head. "I don't know. If I had opened it, I would have cataloged each item. Now there's no way to prove anything."

"Let's leave it until the police get here. Give me the bat and you go to the living room to wait for them." Alex hesitated. I knew her stubborn, independent streak was about to emerge, but the guy outweighed her and he could be faking. "Alex, trust me. Give me the bat and wait in the living room."

Alex opened the front door of the house when the police arrived and let them in. The two uniformed officers called an ambulance, which carried the unconscious burglar away in handcuffs.

One of the cops was about my age, the other older and overweight. So while the young guy flirted with Alex, the fat officer cautioned me to leave things as they were because the investigators would arrive shortly.

He lied, because it was way past dawn before anyone came to the farm.

I'd only visited Jamestown occasionally since I'd returned from Iraq, so I didn't recognize either of the two people who walked through the door. The uniformed officer was an attractive blond female followed by an imposing older man in plain clothes. He introduced himself as Detective Simmons and the woman as Officer Kelly.

Simmons had dark brown hair graying at the temples, and his matching gray eyes drew laugh lines as he talked to Alex. He seemed amused when she admitted she'd hit the intruder.

"Technically, the kitchen door wasn't locked, so this is a case of unlawful entry to commit theft, not a breaking and entering. But I think we can get him for assault, since he made a move at you, Alex." He laughed, "– even though it wasn't a wise move."

I didn't find the situation humorous. "I don't think this is funny, Detective. Alex could've been hurt."

"We know, Mister Fox. You guys should lock your doors," Officer Kelly said.

I felt outraged and disillusioned at their indifference. "Who in hell locks their doors in Jamestown?"

Simmons stared at me. "You've been away from town for a while, haven't you?"

I sensed where he led. "I live in Covington."

"Then you should know better."

I shut up. I knew he was right, but home should be safe, not like a big city.

Alex tried to defend me. "Paris was in Iraq. He's only been back for a year."

Simmons flashed a cynical grin at me. "Welcome home."

Simmons and Kelly looked over the scene and made a few notes. Apparently satisfied, they informed us we'd likely be called to court as witnesses. After they departed, we returned to the study and the old case that lay on the table.

Alex prodded the leather flap. "I wonder what the thief wanted."

I grimaced with distaste at the antique dispatch case and the letter that lay beside it. "Maybe something in that envelope. It was in the case along with the letter."

My mind flashed back to the previous night. I bitterly regretted opening the damn thing and it was one letter I wished I'd never read.
Chapter 2

### Death, Life and Lies

It was a day both beautiful and melancholy.

The late afternoon sun filtered through early spring leaves, weaving a rippling pattern of light across the living room floor. I reclined on the couch, silently gazing at my twin sister, while she stared at the front yard through the picture window. The slanting sunlight streamed through her long, thick, chestnut-brown hair. Her amber eyes were red-rimmed from crying.

"Let it go," I said.

She turned and replied, "This isn't easy."

"No, it isn't."

"You don't understand. –I can't do that again, Paris. I smelled them on everything I touched. – I felt like an intruder – as if I was violating them – Those things were their things. – It was their bedroom."

"I know – I felt the same way."

"They've only been gone for seven days, but I feel like it was the longest seven days of my life." She turned back to the window.

I swallowed, feeling a hard tightness in my throat. I remembered when I'd learned of their passing; deep, shattering sobs rocked like an earthquake inside my body.

I think all men secretly fear grief. We experience it so deeply it makes us feel helpless. No, I would bury it deep, so deep, it could never find me.

After a while I said, "We have to do this, Alex."

"No! – _not their bedroom_ – not again."

Leaning forward on the couch, I clasped my hands between my knees, determined to break the gloom that surrounded us. "Alex, I'm having second thoughts about selling this place."

She turned to me with a somber expression. "There are a lot of good memories here, Paris. Maybe we shouldn't sell it."

I lived in Covington, Kentucky, about two hundred miles north of the farm, but I worked in Cincinnati, which lay on the other side of the Ohio River. Alex worked in the antique business. An expert in the appraisal of valuable antiques, she usually traveled all over the country.

We'd already made plans. Alex wanted to move to my apartment while she studied for her MBA at the University of Cincinnati. It was a bachelor's pad, but it had plenty of room.

No, it would be impossible. We couldn't manage both the farm and our lives. As hard as it might be, we'd have to sell it.

I looked up at her. "I love this house and I love the farm, Alex. But how can we handle it?"

Alex stood and paced the room with her arms folded across her chest. She ignored the question. "Do you remember living here when we were kids? Those were some of the happiest times of my life."

I remembered hikes in the park, swimming in the lake and exploring the caves, a child's paradise.

She continued, more agitated. "Then we left home to attend college, you joined the Army, and we grew up." She turned to look out the window. "God. How I wish we could reset time. I'd reset it back eight days and throw away their damn car keys."

Alex and I never doubted we'd leave home and attend college since Mom and Dad had instilled that goal in us at an early age. But when the time approached, we were not certain how we would accomplish it. My choice was to accept an ROTC military scholarship. Dad seemed a little surprised, but didn't object. I should have known that Uncle Sam doesn't offer gifts without a price. That price was a commission as a second lieutenant in the US Army, and a tour in Iraq. Alex, on the other hand, had squeaked by with scholarships, student loans, and a job at an antique store.

After we left home, our parents seemed happy and content. They readily adjusted to the idea of an empty nest, and were enjoying themselves, free of parental responsibility.

A hit and run, on a narrow country road, ended their lives.

I couldn't sit still. I stood up, joined her at the window and hugged her. "I know what you mean. – It was a shock. – It was too sudden. I could never have imagined it."

She broke away, flopped back down on the chair, and threw her head back against the headrest. Her eyes dripped new tears. "I didn't – I couldn't – I didn't ever want to – How could I? – How can anyone–"

I let her cry, then reach over to the side table and handed her a tissue. "Alex, we've got to finish this."

"Give me a little while," she said, dabbing at her eyes.

It wasn't until I'd left home and experienced other people's lives, that I realized that our parents were special. I'd been raised by two unique, loving people.

I remembered when some of my friends had lost a father or mother. I felt sorry for them, but their pain didn't really register. Now it was my turn. No one had ever prepared me for this. No one could. My loss was like a bleeding sore on my heart, one that kept getting deeper. We were the only children of the marriage, and we both loved our parents better than anyone or anything in our lives.

But the aftermath of their funeral combined elements of the mundane with agonizing choices. Intellectually, I knew that others had survived it, but it would be harder without my sister's support.

Now it was my turn to pace the living room. "It's been a long, hard week. I'm hot and I smell like a horse. I'd take a shower, but we still have lots of work to do, and I'll just get sweaty again." I stopped and faced her. "We don't have to do the bedroom if you don't want to, but we do need to go through Dad's study."

Alex looked stubborn. "Tell me again, why?"

Frustrated, I struggled to keep my voice even. "The lawyer at the funeral said that there was a will, and we were to inherit everything. He recommended that we inventory the house, and decide on the things we wanted to keep, and the things we wanted to sell. – I know it's cold Alex, but I don't have much time, and as hard as it's been, we need to finish."

She shook her head. "It's too bad you can't remember his name. We could postpone."

I rubbed my temples. "Sis, a funeral is not the best place to remember people. He gave me his business card, but I misplaced it."

She sighed. "So here we are – stuck – inventorying the house."

I shrugged. "If I can find him, I'll call him and tell him we need more time. Meanwhile, I'll take care of their bedroom, but we need to do the study together."

She gave me a sad smile. "Okay Paris, The study. But first I want something to eat."

We sat at the kitchen table, munching sandwiches made of ham left over from the food at the wake. As we sat and ate, each immersed in our thoughts, the country night settled over the farm.

Alex stopped chewing and looked at me earnestly. "Do you ever get the feeling that something is missing? I mean – something is missing from your life? Sometimes I wonder where I'm going. I've got a good career. I've got money and a good home, but something's missing. Do you know what I mean?"

I paused, about to take a bite. "Maybe. I think my problem is that I've never found a woman who I want to share my life with. I don't mean just sex – although that's part of it – I mean the big things – like love and children. I want a woman I can grow old with. I want a reason to plan and have lifetime goals." I shrugged. "I suppose I want to be like Mom and Dad."

They had the perfect relationship. Anyone could see that they still loved each other passionately, after nearly thirty years of marriage and two children.

I laid the sandwich down and leaned back in the chair. "Alex, its natural when you're hurting to reach out for someone, but neither of us has anyone else to turn to. There's just you and me." I shrugged. "Also, we're probably both suffering from a little survivor's guilt." I leaned back to the table and parked my elbows on it, folding my hands and staring into her eyes. "But think about the future. I firmly believe it will come with time. Mom and Dad were proof of it. There's really nothing to worry about." I grinned. "Meanwhile, you've still got me."

Her eyes grew wide. "But – what if something happens to you? I mean, I never, ever thought Dad and Mom –"

I laughed. "Alex, I spent two years in Iraq. You can't do that and not learn what it takes to survive. I've got your back, Sis."

Her face changed, looking skeptically amused. "Somehow, I don't think that a time spent in Iraq is a good model for happiness. Or have you forgotten what kind of mess you were when you returned to the states? You were jumping at every sound and suspicious of everyone who walked by. You couldn't walk past a parked car without sweating." She grew thoughtful. "What was it like over there?"

Her question triggered memories; Iraq; beauty, ugliness – Iraq; drinking beer with my buddies, hostility and hate – Iraq; lazy afternoons, soul-stealing terror and fear – and always the loneliness, yearning for home and family. It was as though all the anger in the world had been bottled up and poured all over one small, desert-ridden patch. My tour in Iraq had provided a window to a completely different world, one in which hate was the norm, slaughter and retribution were a way of life, and fear and danger crouched around every corner.

The sad part was that the constant exposure to the tension had hardened everyone, including me. It cheapened human life. When I returned home, I had a huge hole where the old Paris previously existed. In Iraq, I had a purpose, to protect my men, and see them safely home. Now, I no longer knew who I was. Alex and my Mom and Dad had peeled away some of the shell that had hardened around me. They helped me return to some semblance of my former self, but I still had a long way to go.

No one would ever understand.

I looked out the window at the darkness. "It was just a job, Alex."

She leaned on her elbows and stared at me. "Right –You know, I'm not one of those soldiers you bossed around in the Army."

I could see a hint of the old Alex returning.

"Too true. If I'd had you in my platoon, I would have never been able to keep discipline. You're too ornery."

She raised an eyebrow. "And you're not?"

At one time I might have been, but experience had changed me. "Not true. Not in the Rangers. Besides, an officer's got a heavier burden." I winked at her. "So, I've got your back."

She finally seemed to accept me at my word and smiled. "You know? Sometimes it's good to have a handsome twin brother."

I returned her smile. "Not to mention a beautiful twin sister. –To the study?"

She saluted. "The study it is, sir."

I laughed, in a better mood, but the short walk to the study dragged on my soul. I felt like we were on our way to sever our last few remaining ties with our parents' lives. Pausing with reluctance at the entrance, I led the way with Alex trailing behind.

The study had been my father's domain, his workroom. It was large, but filled with history books and artifacts. Although the place was not actually disorganized, there was barely room to squeeze through the jumble.

_This is going to take more than a day._ "I think we're going to get dirtier, Sis," I said as I eyed the clutter.

"I remember when we used to play in here. Dad had all kinds of weird, scary stuff. It was a little intimidating," she said.

"I remember when I was into mystery novels and we'd hunt for buried treasure. You're the antiques dealer. Look for some of the good stuff."

"Yeah, right. – In your dreams. So, where do we start?"

"At the beginning – and that would be right about – there." I pointed to the nearest file box.

We worked silently as the night deepened.

"Alex?"

"Hmm?"

Examining some of the personal files, I'd noticed something missing. Something I'd never before even considered. "Have you noticed that there's nothing in his stuff about Mom and Dad's relatives? I mean, do we have a grandmother or grandfather? Did our parents have brothers and sisters?" A chill came over me. "I wonder why I never thought of it before?"

Her look became introspective. "Come to think of it, they never mentioned any relatives. That would be sort of unusual, wouldn't it?"

I grew apprehensive. It wasn't just unusual, it was downright bizarre. "If you find any old letters or birth certificates – documents – stuff like that – let me know. Okay?"

"Okay." She stopped and looked deep in thought. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen anything like that in this house – not even our birth certificates."

I sighed. "I know. That's why I'm asking. I remember when I turned fifteen. I wanted to get a part-time job at the drug store. That was the first time I found out that I didn't have a Social Security number. Without a birth certificate, I couldn't get a Social Security card and without the card, no job. When I asked Dad, he said it was one of those things that he had been meaning to do, but he'd been too busy." I paused staring at nothing and thinking. "Anyway, the problem seemed to vanish. We both suddenly had Social Security cards, but I don't know how, and I don't remember any birth certificates."

I wondered why I'd never thought to question my parents before their deaths. It just seemed that whenever they were involved, all of my doubts vanished. Now they were gone and the questions loomed in importance. Who were we and where lay our history? Maybe we'd never know, but why had we never thought to ask?

Alex stood from the box she searched and brushed dirt from her hands. "I know you can't get a card without a birth certificate or, in rare cases, a notation in a family bible, so some documents have to be here. Didn't they always say we were born in the house? Look for an old bible or birth record. Also, look for anything with a Social Security number."

We worked for a few hours, late into the night, and we still had not made more than a dent in the contents of the study, so I stood up. "I think we ought to call it a day, I'm getting tired and I want to take a shower. What do you say?"

She stood and nodded. "You know, Paris, this is starting to worry me. It's like we appeared out of nowhere."

She'd apparently had the same thoughts I had. "Let's sleep on it and discuss it tomorrow."

We stowed the remaining boxes back out of the way. As I went to turn off the light switch, I happened to glance at Dad's desk. I saw a glint of something metal behind the desk. It winked at me in the light from the floor lamp.

"Wait a minute Alex, I see something." She paused and looked back. I crouched down behind the desk. Something _was_ there, an old leather case, somewhat like a briefcase. It had an ornate metal clasp that appeared, upon first examination, to be made of gold.

Alex removed it from my hands to give it a closer look.

"Where did that come from?" I asked.

"I don't know. It's old," she said. "It could be eighteenth century."

"I wonder what's in it. Open it."

She seemed to consider my demand for a moment. "No, I think we'd better wait 'till the morning, after we've had some sleep."

I reached for it. "Don't you want to know what's in it?"

She snatched it out of my grasp. "Yes, but this case is old. If we want to preserve the provenance, we need to open it carefully."

"Just a peek inside?" I asked.

She hesitated. "Alright, a peek, but let me get my notebook first." She left the study and returned with what appeared to be a well-used day planner.

She leaned on the edge of the desk. "Go ahead, open it."

I opened the clasp, peered inside, and removed what appeared to be a hand written letter.

"Looks like a letter from Dad. What's it doing in here?"

She shrugged. "I don't have a clue. Read it."

I unfolded the letter and read it aloud.

Paris and Alexandra,

If I succeed as I hope, you will never see this. I will rip it to shreds and burn it. If you are reading this, then something has gone terribly wrong. I write this in haste, because I do not have much time. I do not know how to say this, but if I were physically present, I would beg your forgiveness.. Since I am obviously not there, you will just have to understand. I would rather tear my heart out than hurt either of you, but I need to be blunt. I am sorry. I never meant for this to happen, but recent events have convinced me that we, all of us, are in great danger.

I stopped and we both looked at each other.

Alex flushed. "What the hell..?"

I shrugged and continued reading.

For that reason, you must both learn things that your mother and I have kept hidden, dangerous secrets that have put all our lives in jeopardy.

First, as hard as it may be, for your safety, you must know that my beloved wife, Jenny, the person who you have called mother all your lives, is not your birth mother. She is your mother, in every way that counts, but she is not the woman who gave birth to you.

At that point my vocal cords grew paralyzed. I glanced over at Alex. Her face looked blanched.

She violently shook her head. Her voice hissed "Nooo."

Needing to know the rest of the message, I gathered what remained of my resolve, cleared my throat and continued.

There: It is done, brutal but finally honest. Jenny knows the truth and suspects more. She will tell you everything. Protect her. She is precious to me.

Before Jenny and I were married, while a graduate student at college, I met a beautiful young French exchange student named Sybil. She was wild and free, and she excited me. Touching her was intoxicating. I do not know if she had a last name, I just knew her as Sybil. We lived together for over a year in a state of mindless lust until she became pregnant and gave birth to you. Both of you were born from this union.

After your birth, one day, she disappeared. I frantically searched for over a year trying to find her. I was desperate. Fortunately, for my sanity, and our happiness, I met Jenny. She was the moral foundation that restored my mind and my soul. If there is a God, I thank him for her.

Jenny was barren when we married. We agreed that she would be your mother in all ways but one, and we would never, ever, mention the past.

I looked for someplace to sit in the study because my legs seemed unable to support me. Alex had already sprawled on the floor, leaning back against the doorframe. I looked around and sat on one of the boxes. Unable to stop, I finished the letter.

Events have proven that for your safety, you must learn who you are.

In this briefcase, are some items that may help, but knowledge will be required to use them. Your mother knows where to seek the knowledge and aid. Listen to her. She is wise. I feel, wiser than me. I have included a list of addresses and places with this letter where you may seek answers. They are allies. You will need them.

I love you both. I will always love you. I love all of you more than life. My fate means nothing to me if you are alive and safe.

With each word, the blood had drained from my head. Alex looked pale. She staggered to her feet and lurched from the study. I heard the sound of her footsteps on the stairs and the slam of her bedroom door.

* * *

My mind snapped back to the present and I shook myself back to awareness. "I think we need to check that envelope."

"I don't think I want to look." She turned to leave the study.

I sympathized with her. Last night, after I'd read the letter, I laid awake a long time before I'd managed to sleep. I followed her and studied her expression.

Her almond shaped eyes glowed amber in the sunlight, but they still held the sadness that had engulfed both of us. She wore no makeup. Her lovely face and flawless complexion didn't need enhancement. Sex had set us apart in looks and height, but I knew I looked at a near mirror image of me.

I ran my hands through my thick, chestnut hair. "We need to talk about last night," I said.

Alex started to cry again.

I became angry. Dad had to be insane to write that damn letter. Did he know how much he'd hurt Alex? Hurt me? Did he care? How was Mom not my mother? I loved my mother. She'd held me and stroked me when hurt and had set me free when I was well. She also taught me to respect women and treat them as equals. Why had he written it? Did he write it? And, if he didn't write it, who did?

"Alex, Alexandra honey, listen to me," I said. "Don't cry. This is bullshit. It can't possibly be true."

She choked back a sob. "What? Didn't you recognize the handwriting? Why would he write something like this if it wasn't true?"

I gripped her shoulders. "Alex, ignore your head, listen to your heart. We knew Mom. Did she ever give us any reason to feel other than our mother?"

This seemed to get her attention. Her red rimmed, tear-filled eyes widened. "Really? – Really! – But, why..?"

I completed her question. "Why did he write it? Hon, we don't know that he did write it. It looks like Dad's writing, but maybe it's someone else–"

She shook her head. "That's Dad's handwriting. I should know. While you were gone, I helped him with his research. I know his writing. Now, I'm really confused."

I released her, hugged myself and paced around her, thinking. "Alex, we've got a problem, but it's got to have an explanation. Let's calm down and think about this."

I was totally clueless, but I didn't want Alex to sense it. My mind roiled with conflicting emotions. Dad was one of those people who could have been composed on the deck of the Titanic, and who would have calmly awaited, and achieved, rescue. He'd been there when I needed him and he put the brakes on me when I had overstepped his bounds, but he didn't overpower me. He also taught me to be self-sufficient, to make my own choices in the world.

To say that I respected my father was like saying that the world orbited around the sun. His sanity and constancy was a fact that I always took for granted. He had a strange way of making problems vanish and never come back.

I stopped pacing and led her into the kitchen. We sat around the table and I caught her eyes. "Did Dad act strange before the accident? I mean, did he give any impression that he was not – uh– Dad?"

"Not that I can recall," Alex replied. "He seemed to be the same as usual. But, you know Dad. He wouldn't get upset in the middle of another world war."

"The letter says that he was concerned about our safety. What does that mean?"

She looked away. "I don't know."

"It also says that Mom will tell us what's going on. Did Mom say anything about this while you were here?"

She looked at the floor. "No."

I pushed her. "Do you remember Dad acting worried? Worried about strangers?"

"No, No, No!" she yelled.

I realized I'd gone too far. "Okay, Alex, for your peace of mind, we've got to find out where this letter came from, and what it means."

She snapped her head around and glowered at me. "My peace of mind or yours? Don't go macho on me, Paris."

I sighed. "Okay –our peace of mind."

"That's more like it."

Relieved by the change in her attitude, I thought for a moment. "Was there anything else in the case?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I didn't check after I found it opened."

I picked up the case and examined it. It seemed to be old, very old. The seams were hand-stitched with rawhide.

I reached in the case and felt back and forth through its interior. At the bottom a metallic object met my probing fingers and I removed it from the case.

It was a round medallion that seemed to be made of silver. On the face of it was a raised carving. I examined it closely. The picture, if one could call it that, was not a person, place or animal. It was hard to look at the image. It caused a strange feeling in my head. I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head to clear the image from my mind.

"What is it? Let me see." Alex grabbed for it.

I moved it out of reach. "I don't think you'll want to."

"Don't be silly, let me have it." She leaned forward, grabbed it from my hand and looked at it. Shuddering, she dropped it on the table. "You're right; I don't want to touch it."

After a moment, I tilted the open case toward the morning sun and sure enough, at the bottom, a second medallion gleaming back at me. I removed the disk from the case.

I quickly dropped it on the table. "This must be yours."

Staring at it, she replied, "How do you know?"

I looked at it with distaste. "I don't know how I know, but I do know that I can't stand touching it."

She picked up the disk. As soon as she held it, her grimace of repulsion vanished, to be replaced by a dazed expression. "You're right. This is mine, I can feel it."

I stared at the remaining medallion lying on the table. "I think we should put these back in the case until we know what this is all about."

She clutched hers harder. "Why? It makes me feel better just holding it."

I looked at her, at the way she held the medallion. "Alex, we don't know what these medals are, nor how we seem to know which one is ours. I don't like it. These disks could be dangerous. They're certainly strange."

Her eyes held a glazed look, like she stared in the distance at something I couldn't see. "Strange, yes, but I don't feel bad when I touch it, I feel – like – renewed, stronger, more mature, more sure of myself."

"Let's put them back in the case, and when we're less influenced by them, we can talk about our problems and make plans."

"I don't know –"

I interrupted her. "Please, Alex, please put it back in the case."

She clutched the medallion as though she could never let it go. As the time stretched, I feared that she would refuse and we'd have a fight. She seemed to struggle with her feelings and then relented. "Okay, I'll put it in the case, but you'll have to promise me. As soon as we learn what these things are, I can have mine back."

"Done," I replied.

She looked puzzled. "Really, I don't understand why you feel that you have to protect me from a piece of jewelry."

I worried my lower lip between my teeth. "I don't quite understand myself, Sis, but...It's just a feeling. Humor me."

She dropped the medallion into the case. With the medals safely back where they belonged, I thought about our next hurdle. "This could all be a sick joke, but I haven't a clue as to why, or what it would mean if it were true. I think we need to use our brains and puzzle this out. We need information. – Two things I do know, you're my sister who I love more than anything else, and our mother was _Mother_ , regardless of what that damn letter says." I had a hard time choking out the last statement.

"The letter says that we should ask Mother. Mom is –"

"Stop! I know – you don't have to say it. Please don't"

She wailed. "Paris. She's dead. Our mother's gone. I'll never see her or listen to her, or feel her hug me again. She's just – gone." Then she started to cry again.

Alex's sobbing hurt. I felt that if she continued, I would join her. I wrapped my arms around her, held her, and let her cry. We let grief consume us until we could regain control of our emotions.

"I'm exhausted. I need a drink," I said.

"So do I," she said.

"There's nothing in the house to drink."

"Not so, Dad drinks – uh – drank wine."

"Since when? Kentucky's a dry state."

"Russell County is. Not all of Kentucky is dry. Some counties sell alcohol."

"So where did you get –"

"Didn't you know? Dad's got a wine cellar, I mean he had –"

"Don't say it."

She bit her lip, stared at the window for a moment and composed herself. "Okay. So, there's a small wine cellar in the basement. Actually, it's just a closet, but Dad –" She controlled herself again. "Dad called it his wine cellar, so the name stuck."

"Fine, lead me to it, and we'll unscrew a bottle."

"Huh? Uncork, you mean, Dad liked _good_ wines."

Following Alex down the stairs to the basement, I thought about the improbability of a wine cellar.

When I'd lived at home, Dad was not a wine drinker. In fact, the family was relatively alcohol free. Oh sure, we'd sometimes had moments where a celebration was in order, like Dad getting a new contract for a research grant, and then there would be a glass of champagne for the adults, although not my sister or me. We had to be content with apple juice.

In Iraq, alcohol was confined to the base. To wind down from a mission or just bullshit with my men or other officers, we'd gather around a few brews, so I grew to like beer. Upon taking the engineering job in Cincinnati, I'd discovered that it was a great beer city. Several breweries were headquartered there, so I'd grown accustomed to having a beer or two after work.

After we reached the bottom of the stairs, Alex led me to the far corner of the basement. I gazed at the room in amazement. When I'd lived here, the basement had been what I imagined all basements to be, dark, gloomy and dirty. This basement was attractive and spacious. It had wood-paneled walls, and overhead fixtures provided ample light. The floor was tiled, with area rugs at strategic locations. Sited on the rugs were exercise machines and a weight lifting bench.

"Whoa. What is this? When I was home, this floor was dirt."

"Oh, I forgot you weren't here when Dad had it rebuilt. That's when he put in the wine cellar."

"This must have cost a fortune. Why didn't he ask me to do the engineering? – Doesn't it flood when it rains?"

Alex shook her head. "No, Dad had an outside company come in. He was very closed-mouth about it. I remember a few times he and the contractor argued about the construction. He was very precise about the plans. He said that we needed it for exercise." She shrugged. "I don't know why. I assumed Mom wanted to keep in shape. I used it a few times to improve my upper body strength when I studied martial arts."

I laughed. "You took martial arts?"

She looked annoyed, stepped back and crouched as though she wanted to take me on. "Yes, Aikido, and I got pretty good at it. It was to protect myself if something happened while I was traveling. You want to try me?"

I made a warding gesture and grinned.

She relaxed and gestured at the back wall. "There's the wine cellar."

"Where? I don't see it."

"It's here against the wall." She indicated a section of the paneled wall.

It was well concealed. I examined it. "It's locked."

"I forgot. Dad keeps – uh– kept the key in his desk in the study."

We looked at each other in silence.

"This doesn't get easier, does it, Alex?"

"I wonder if it ever will?"

I sighed. "I think I've lost my urge for a drink, besides, we haven't had breakfast. After a meal, I always think better."

"Me too," she said.

"Let's go eat."

We returned to the kitchen. We were both good cooks, and we choreographed our moves in the kitchen seemingly by instinct. It wasn't a typical country feast, just some poached eggs, coffee and toast with butter. Country breakfasts tended to be rich and hearty with delicious fatty foods. I didn't think either of us had that kind of appetite. We sat down and ate our meal.

"What do we do now?" Alex asked, as she buttered her toast.

"About the letter? Forget it. At least for now, until we can sort out all the other problems, pretend it didn't happen."

"I can't do that."

I paused with a bite of egg near my mouth. "I know. Neither can I."

"Don't you want to know? Do you want this to hang over us the rest of our lives?"

Resigned to the inevitable, I sighed. "You're right. I have to know."

"What about the list mentioned in the letter?" Alex said."

I hadn't thought about it. "You opened the envelope. Wasn't it there?"

Alex shook her head. "I didn't check."

"I'll look." I went back to the study, picked up all the papers that had been removed from the case, including the envelope, and took them back to the kitchen. I opened the large manila envelope and checked inside. "More pages."

She waved the letter away. "Read them."

"It's in Dad's handwriting." I read it aloud.

The medallions are yours. I had them made to order. You will each know which one is your personal Fetish. You must wear them. This is for your own safety. They cannot harm you if you wear them.

"It's followed by a list of addresses, two pages worth," I said.

"Okay. This is becoming irritating. Why the hell did he call these medallions a 'fetish'?"

"That's 'Fetish' with a capital 'F'."

"Damn it. Okay, 'Fetish', with a capital F. Why a 'Fetish', and what the hell does he mean by they? – The medallions? – Or some other 'they'?"

"Maybe it was a typo. Calm down, Sis, we'll figure this out." I made a mental note to look up the meaning of the word in the computer. "I suppose he felt that Mom would tell us."

Alex bit her lip. "But...she's not here to tell us anything,"

"Well, at least, I guess you can play with your medallion, or fetish– or whatever it is."

She leaned back in the chair and crossed her arms over her chest. "I've changed my mind. If we plan to wear these things, I'm going to get some jewelers bags and put the medals in them. I'll also buy some gold chains tomorrow, and since there isn't any hole in the metal to hook a chain to, I'll see if there is something that can be made to encase them."

"A little bit of an overkill, but I guess it's a plan." I thought for a moment. "You know, if Dad was concerned that we were in danger, as the letter says, maybe the accident wasn't an accident at all."

"What? You mean...?"

I stared at her. "I mean maybe it was meant to look like an accident."

Alex frowned. "Now you're getting paranoid."

I shrugged. "Maybe...I want to look at the accident report. The sheriff offered to give me a copy, but with the funeral and all the rest, we were too busy. And to be honest, I really didn't want to see it." I rubbed my chin feeling a little stubble. "Now, I think it would be wise to do so. I never thought about it before, but Dad was a very careful driver. It would take a lot to force him off of the road."

Her expression changed and her eyes narrowed. "You're right. He would never drive a country road at high speeds. That Volvo he owned was as safe as he could make it, and he kept it in prime mechanical shape."

I nodded. "I know. We need more time. I want to call the company tomorrow and extend my bereavement leave. I'd planned to head back to Covington next week, but I think I'll stay a little longer to see what I can find." I thought about the list of things we'd need to do. "For one thing, we need to have some idea of what the names on that list mean, and where to find them."

"Well, I don't have any place to be," Alex said. "Remember, I was planning to start school. I'll check the list at the county office."

I felt my mission-face slip into place. "Right, we have our marching orders. I need to get more sleep, and I suggest you do the same. Then we'll get to work on that stuff in Dad's study."

"Paris, you're sounding like an Army officer again."

Embarrassed at being caught out, I retorted, "Not."

She grinned "Are too!"

It warmed me to see her almost cheerful again. "Seriously, I want to see if we can find anything in that pile in the room that will give some clue as to who our parents were. After that, we'll have dinner at the steak house."

"Done. Sleep and then work."
Chapter 3

### Confusion, Wealth and Gypsies?

After some sleep, we worked the remainder of the day, searching through the boxes in the study for a hint of our parents' history. We found nothing. No Social Security numbers, no pictures, other than of us, no letters to mothers, fathers, brothers, or sisters. It was almost as though, beyond the fact of us, our parents' lives and their families did not exist.

Frustrated, we finally gave up, exhausted.

Too tired to go out to a restaurant, we dined on soup and a sandwich late in the night and finally collapsed into our beds, seeking the oblivion of sleep.

* * *

I woke to Alex pounding and shouting at my bedroom door. "Paris! Hey lazy bones, Get up. We have things to do and people to see – Come on!"

Groaning, I crawled out of my comfortable bed, pulled on a bathrobe, and opened the door.

"Okay, I'm awake. You can stop yelling."

"Go take a shower. I've already been in and out. Breakfast is almost ready."

I took a leisurely shower, and checked the stubble on my face. I didn't have a heavy beard, but after the Army, shaving had become automatic.

A masculine copy of Alex stared back at me. My friends said I looked androgynous, neither male nor female. If I'd been born with breasts and rounded hips I could have easily passed for a woman. But my hips were slim and I possessed a wide chest and muscular shoulders, unmistakably male. The other officers in my company had called me 'pretty boy scout.' They'd dropped the 'pretty' after a few tense engagements, but they still kidded me about my looks and the nickname stuck.

I studied the bathroom mirror in an attempt to understand myself. I knew the face that looked back was distorted, a mirror image of the true Paris. Before college and Iraq, I'd been a simple country boy, naive abut the greater society I lived in and the true nature of people in other parts of the world.

My parents had fortunately given me fundamental moral values: respect for others, self reliance, a solid work ethic and a love of family. They formed my core and kept me sane in insane situations, but in Iraq, I'd changed. There I discovered a part of me that was like a dormant volcano.

Left unharmed, I was a rugged, placid mountain. Shake me and I could bury someone in lava.

Right now, I smoldered.

After a shave, I dressed, and ambled down to the kitchen. The heavenly smell of bacon made my stomach rumble.

"Smells good. I'm hungry."

"Well, get started, I've already eaten."

After packing in a substantial breakfast of eggs, hash browns, country bacon and toast, I was starting to feel superhuman.

"That was good, Alex, thanks."

"Anything for my dear, older brother, older by fifteen minutes." She laughed. "Let's get moving. I'm anxious to start and unless I plan to walk, you have the only car.

"I'll have to make a call first – to my work." Alex winced, but said nothing. I headed back to my room and dug out my cell phone from my suitcase. The phone had been off the whole time I'd been in Jamestown.

While Alex danced around like a nervous deer, I called my department head, Harvey and told him that I needed more time to settle family matters.

He didn't take the news well, because I was working on an important, multimillion-dollar project. Although I was ahead of schedule, he was the kind of boss who fretted about every aspect of a project, never satisfied.

After some negotiating, I promised I'd work on the specifications and email the results to him. I knew Dad owned a reliable and powerful computer for his research, with a fast Internet connection. The combination should be more than adequate for my needs.

Disconnecting, I turned to Alex. "I have to make sure the Internet connection is paid up. We need to stop at the phone company."

"We don't need to. It's not the phone company. There's a satellite dish on a pole behind the barn."

"Okay, I'll check it out later." I picked up the keys and we headed out. I stopped to lock the door.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm locking up the house."

"Good idea, but a little strange. We've never locked it before."

"Did you forget about the burglar? I'll feel better if it's locked up."

After locking the door we headed to my car.

I keyed the automatic door locks and Alex slipped into the passenger seat.

"By the way, Big Brother, have I said how much I like your new wheels?"

I blushed. "Hey, I like my Camaro. My car is fast, safe, comfortable and fun to drive."

"Not to mention canary yellow with sexy racing stripes." She settled back in the bucket seat. "Seriously, Paris, I think it's a beautiful car. I'm glad Detroit started making them again."

I grinned at her. "Truthfully? I saw this beauty on the lot, and couldn't resist it."

She laughed.

"Seat belts," I said.

She latched her belt and the car rolled smoothly across the grass toward the highway. The farm didn't have a defined driveway and when I visited, I parked at the front of the house on the lawn. During the spring and summer grass grew fast in Kentucky.

It wasn't a long trip to the center of Jamestown. You couldn't really call it a 'downtown', but it was clean and picturesque. The center of Jamestown had a square in the middle of the road, with a statue of a world War One soldier in the center. The town was the site of the Russell County Courthouse and the center of Russell County.

Counties in Kentucky tended to be small and Russell was no exception. The whole county boasted a population of less than twenty thousand souls.

Less than two thousand were grouped around Jamestown. Very close to Lake Cumberland and the Lake Cumberland State Park, it made it a vacationer's paradise, with boating, swimming, forest trails and great campsites. Alex and I knew the area well, having hiked all over Lake Cumberland and the local woodlands.

As we rode toward town, Alex's expression grew wistful. "Remember when we used to ride our bikes to the lake and hike along the ridges?"

She must have been reading my mind. "I was just thinking about it. Maybe we can do some exploring while we're here."

"I'd like that."

I parked the Camaro at the county courthouse. Practically any place we wanted to visit was within walking distance in Jamestown. I looked around at the buildings surrounding the square. In front of the courthouse three men lounged against some parked cars, talking. They glanced our way, then resumed their conversation. At the small restaurant, another man leaned against the building. Something bothered me about the man's look, so I turned back and keyed the wireless remote to lock the car.

I could see that Alex noticed my nervousness. "Getting more paranoid?"

"Just prudent," I replied.

We proceeded into the courthouse.

"You hit the county Records for addresses on the list that are close to Jamestown. I'll check the police department."

"Why do I get the records, while you get the police?" Alex asked.

"Uh, because I'm the male?"

"Dummy. Whom do you think the police will sympathize with? – A pretty, distraught, amber-eyed, chestnut-headed female who just lost her parents, or a hulking ex-army type with the attitude of a drill sergeant?"

"As much as I hate to admit it, you've got a point. I might observe though, that we're both about the same height."

"True, but I act petite, while you hulk."

"I don't."

"You do."

We went our separate ways.

I checked the addresses on the list against some of the resources located in the county records office. Only two of the addresses were in Kentucky. The remainder were scattered across the other fifty states, some as far as California. There was one address in Cincinnati. It was the only address in Ohio.

Of the two addresses in Kentucky, one was near Jamestown, but at a rural postal box and the other near Lexington. I marked the two Kentucky addresses as promising, and decided the others could wait.

I spent an inordinate amount of time searching for some record of my parents' background and found nothing. As far as the county records were concerned, my parents had suddenly appeared with children in arms and purchased some property, apparently with cash.

Discouraged, I left the records office and searched for my sister.

I found her chatting with the three men who were gathered in front of the Courthouse. They were obviously enchanted with her, each vying to catch her attention and talking over one another. My sister had always attracted males, even in high school. However, to my knowledge, she'd never had a serious romantic involvement with any member of the opposite sex.

I wondered about that.

I too, had never had any difficulty in meeting girls. They seemed to gravitate toward me. But, whenever I was with them, I compared them to my sister. It made my relationships with women difficult. I always imagined how they would equate with Alex. No one had passed that test.

I had a habit of making friends with females but I'd always stopped short of commitment, and even when I eventually let the relationship cool, they departed friends. During my Army days, the guys had called me a 'chick magnet'. I didn't go out of my way to chase females, but I usually found them, and my friends eagerly joined me on off-base excursions.

In Iraq, there was neither time nor opportunity to pursue the opposite sex. You were wise if you remained alert and didn't get involved with the locals.

After a while, Alex said polite goodbyes to the guys, and left the group to join me. We walked to the car and I locked the list and some notes in the trunk.

"Sorry I took so long." I nodded to the men hanging around the front of the Courthouse. "What was that all about?"

"Just gathering some local gossip."

"Did you discover anything unusual?"

"Yes, but not here, we'll go to the restaurant, get a booth and talk about it. I could use some lunch."

The restaurant didn't have booths, so we chose a quiet table in the back, away from the other customers. We sat down and I picked up the menu to study it. "What did you find out?"

Alex shook her head. "No, you go first. You spent the most time in there."

I shrugged. "Didn't find much and that's the strange part. There's no record prior to twenty-five years ago that our parents ever existed in Kentucky. It's like they suddenly appeared out of nowhere. They paid cash for the farm. Cash. Where did they get that kind of money? Most people have a mortgage. Our parents didn't." I paused and unfolded the table napkin to lay it on my lap. "In addition, there were only two addresses on the list in the state. One's close to Jamestown and the other is around Lexington. Also, why are there only addresses on the list? Where are the names? Some of the items are just places with no addresses. Anyhow, I couldn't find the name for the address here in Jamestown. It's just a rural mail box. I've got some ideas, but they will have to wait until we get back to the farm.

"Your turn," I said.

Just as she was about to speak, the waitress arrived to take our order.

"What'll y'all have?" She poised with a pencil hovering over her pad.

I studied the menu. "I want the fried green tomatoes, and a country salad."

Alex didn't bother to look. "I'll just have a bacon lettuce and tomato on toast."

"Anythin' to drink?"

"Iced tea for both of us," I replied.

"Comin' up." She moved off to deliver our order.

I had an idle thought about the server's southern accent. Both Alex and I had been out of state so long that we had little of our accent left. In the case of Alex, it was just enough to be charming. We waited for the tea to arrive before we resumed the conversation.

"So, what did you find?" I asked.

"More questions than answers. The Chief wasn't there, so I talked to Officer Patterson and Detective Simmons. The official police report stated that the car was clipped by an unknown vehicle, lost control, and hit some trees. – Pretty dry stuff." She leaned forward and lowered her voice. "But I was able to talk Patterson into telling me some of the details that didn't get into the official report." She paused and continued in a conspirator's voice. "Get this. – Patterson said the skid marks indicated that the car was forced out of control by one of those maneuvers they teach the police when they're trying to stop a fleeing vehicle. Since he was suspicious, he traced our parents' activities prior to the accident. They'd gone to the Marina Inn to have dinner. At least two people at the inn said that they had met someone there during dinner, before the accident. The other people said that they couldn't remember, and the two that recalled the meeting, couldn't agree on whether the person they met was a man or a woman. Don't you think that's odd?" She waited for me to comment.

I shook my head. "Witnesses are frequently unreliable. It's not unusual. Dad's letter seemed to indicate he was worried about something and maybe he met someone there to try and resolve it. Go on. What else?"

Alex's look changed as though she'd saved the best for last. She sat back in the seat. "Patterson said that the police investigation indicated that the car had hit the trees in excess of eighty miles per hour."

Stunned, I felt my face change to disbelief. "Bullshit, Dad never drove that fast on the state roads. He always said that anyone who exceeded double nickels on a two lane road was a fool. If the car was moving that fast someone had to be chasing him."

The food arrived, and our conversation paused.

Her face now reflecting excitement, Alex continued. "They haven't been able to locate the other car involved. The only evidence they have is some paint scrapings from our parents' car. Patterson said that's not much help. Apparently, the Chief is writing it off as an ordinary hit-and-run. It's likely to end there but Simmons is sympathetic. He said he'll try to keep it open."

"I sense my sister's pretty, amber eyes involved in there, somewhere," I ventured.

She smiled. "Patterson's cute, and he was putty in my hands, but he's married."

I laughed. "You're incorrigible. My sister the Mata Hari,"

She grinned. "Hey, if you've got it, you gotta flaunt it. Besides, his name is Robert Patterson. You should know him – Bob? We went to high school together."

"Robert? You mean...wasn't he that lanky guy in class who wanted to date you for awhile?"

"Yep, we became good friends."

"I'll have to stop by before we go back home and say hello."

"Good idea."

We turned to our cooling meals. After a while, Alex said, "there's something else, I don't know if it has anything to do with our problems, but Bob said that the Chief's concerned because there've been some strangers around. They haven't caused any problems, but they've apparently moved into one of the rental properties outside of town, one of the secluded farms. The Chief's worried that they may be some kind of cult. Bob said that the Chief doesn't want Jamestown to be another Waco, so he's keeping an eye on them."

"What are they, some kind of commune or something like that?"

"Bob didn't say. Also, I talked to the guys outside the Courthouse and they also mentioned that there were strangers in Jamestown, but so far, they're keeping to themselves."

We finished our lunch and stopped at the Courthouse so I could say hi to Bob and on the way home, visit the jewelry store so that Alex could arrange to have the chains and lockets made for our medallions.

As I drove back to the farm, I thought about what we'd learned.

Jamestown was a small rural community. Most people had a nodding acquaintance with each other or had numerous relatives living nearby. In one way or another, practically everyone in Jamestown knew, or was related to, everyone else.

However, in the manner of most southerners, people were normally, unfailingly polite to one another. People in the south also minded their own business and expected others to mind theirs.

Most southerners did not overstep those bounds. The few troublemakers found themselves ostracized and most people who could not get along eventually moved out of the area. There were a few exceptions, but they were widely known and the subject of a lot of gossip.

It seemed unlikely that any newcomers to Jamestown could keep their activities secret for long. Most of the folks in town knew my parents as the Professor and his wife, and knew us as the Professor's children. As far as they and we knew, Dad had been a researcher who wrote books, thick ones, guaranteed to put you to sleep in a few pages. The new, unusual aspects of my parents' lives we'd discovered did not fit any of those images.

At home, unlocking the front door, I heard the telephone ringing and hurried to the study to answer it.

"Hello."

"I'm calling for Mister or Miss Fox, Paris Fox or Alexandra Fox."

I replied in a formal tone "This is Paris Fox, to whom am I speaking?"

"This is the law firm of Brawley and Higgins. Mister Brawley has been trying to reach you. Please hold sir, while I connect you."

I waited. In a few seconds, a high, nasally voice answered. "Mister Fox, I'm so glad I was finally able to contact you. I've left voice messages, didn't you get them?"

I thought for a moment. "No, this is my parents' phone number, Mister Brawley. I didn't even know they had voice mail until recently and haven't checked. As you can imagine, we've been preoccupied these last few days, with the funeral and all."

"You're quite right Mister Fox. I apologize. It's just that I was eager to meet with you and your sister. You may not remember, but I spoke with you during the days before the funeral. I was the lawyer your father hired to handle his financial affairs and his estate. I was also a close friend of your father. I wanted to read the will to both of you and answer any questions."

His name finally registered in my mind. "Oh. You did mention that he had a will, but we haven't finished inventorying the house. Is there something wrong?"

"It's one of those unpleasant facts of life that in the tragic event of a death, the estate needs to be set in proper order. Fortunately, your father was very precise in the execution of his will and there is no problem. You and your sister will inherit considerable wealth."

At first his words didn't register. _Wealth? What did he mean by wealth?_ "Exactly how much wealth?"

"I don't have the exact figures in front of me," he replied, "and there may have been changes since the last accounting, but it would be safe to say that you and your sister stand to inherit in excess of sixty million dollars. That's in addition to the farm, of course."

Stunned and speechless, I looked at Alex, who'd been following the one-sided conversation in puzzlement and shook my head. I mouthed the word 'wait' and held up my hand.

"Mister Fox, are you still there?"

"Yes, you just surprised me. How do you want to handle this? It's been a busy day, should we come to your office?"

"That's not necessary. I have an appointment out your way, and if I leave early enough, I can bring all the necessary documents to the farm. You and your sister need to sign some papers, and I need to read the will with an impartial witness present. I'll bring one of our legal associates to witness the proceedings."

"That's fine, we'll be waiting – and – thank you."

"No thanks necessary, Mister Fox, just doing my job. I'll be there within the hour."

"What was that all about?" Alex asked after I hung up.

Still a little incredulous, I shook my head. "That was Dad's lawyer. He's coming to the house to read the will."

Alex's eyebrows met in a frown. "Coming to the house? Isn't that unusual? Why didn't he ask us to come to him?"

"I don't know, but I think I may have an idea."

She looked annoyed and impatient. "What? Come on spill it."

"Brace yourself Sis. It seems like we're filthy rich."

Alex's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Yeah? – Rich! As in... How rich?"

I grinned. "Sixty million bucks rich."

"Impossible!" she snapped. "There must be some mistake. How could Dad get sixty million dollars?"

"He said it was over sixty million but didn't say by how much."

Alex paced in the hallway outside the study with her arms folded across her chest. "Paris, this just keeps getting weirder and weirder. If Dad had that much money, then why did we have to attend public school? And why did I have to work my way through college?"

I moved past her and headed to the living room, speaking over my shoulder. "You weren't the only one. You were the one closest to the farm. Are you sure that you didn't see anything or overhear Mom and Dad talk about money?"

Alex joined me and sat on the couch. "I was busy building a career. I mean, a degree in history doesn't qualify anyone for a job other than teaching high school. I was trying to make a name in the antique business and I spent a lot of time traveling all over the U.S. I wasn't at home as much as you think I was." She stopped, and frowned.

I sat in the armchair and thought about her comments. Alex had certainly made herself famous in the antique world. She was uncanny at being able to spot fakes, and she had a positive genius in discovering the hidden gems that lurked in southern attics. Achieving that kind of success required commitment and a lot of research. It was entirely likely that she had been too preoccupied to pay much attention to our parents' secrets.

"Well, maybe we'll learn more when the lawyer gets here."

We waited impatiently for the arrival of Dad's lawyer. After a while, I was ready to call the law firm, but the two cars that pulled into the yard stopped me.

Two men walked up to porch, and I opened the door to let them in. The older one spoke. "Mister Fox. – Miss Fox?" We both nodded. "My name is Silas Brawley, and this is my associate Kirk Brown. May we come in?" He carried a large briefcase.

Silas was tall and thin, with sandy blonde hair that was just starting to show some gray. He had clear pale blue eyes that looked expectantly at me.

"Certainly." We shook hands all around.

We all sat in the living room.

Silas chatted briefly about the weather and how Alex and I were coping with the loss of our parents, normal southern pleasantries before conducting business. The conversation eventually died down, and turned toward the reason for their visit.

Silas opened his briefcase. "First, Mister Fox, Miss, or is it Ms Fox?"

Alex smiled. "Miss is fine, Mister Brawley."

Silas nodded. "Good, it's nice to see a southern woman who doesn't become insulted by traditional mannerisms. One has to be careful now-days." He sat the briefcase on the floor by his feet. "First, I need to see some identification. I assure you it's not a slur upon your integrity, it's a legal requirement. Kirk here will witness the documents and record them."

We handed over our driver's licenses. Kirk wrote down the information and handed them back.

"We'll also need to verify your birth certificates or Social Security cards," Silas said.

His words brought a sense of dread because he'd touched on an uncomfortable subject. "I'm afraid I'm not in the habit of carrying those kinds of things in my wallet, but I know my Social Security number." I turned to Alex. "How about you, Sis?" Looking a bit worried, she shook her head in negation.

"No problem, that'll be enough for now. We can proceed on the identification you've provided. The other things can be verified later. If you don't have the cards handy, we can get them for you." He pulled some legal papers from the briefcase. "I need to read the will, and then you two need to sign the proper documents that will transfer the proceeds from the estate to your ownership. Before we begin, I need to make you aware of certain legal issues." He settled back in the armchair.

"First, I represent your father and your father's estate. Since your mother passed away, I also represent your mother's estate. Lawyer-client confidentiality extends to the estate, not to you individually."

"Come again? What does that mean?" Alex asked.

"That means that if you were to say anything that implied a criminal intent, I could be compelled to testify in a court of law as to your statement. If you were my client, nothing you say to me could be revealed by me. I just legally needed to make you aware of our relationship."

"So, what if we wanted to hire you right now?" I asked.

"That would be a conflict of interest," he replied. "You have a right to your own legal representation at this reading. If you plan to contest the will, although I do not see why you would, I would have to stop the proceeding after the reading and then it would go to court. Shall we proceed with the reading?"

"Please," I said. Alex was quiet.

He handed us each a copy of the will and we read it, as he read it aloud. It was heavy with a lot of whereas and wherefores, but the gist of it was mother was to inherit the estate in trust for us. In the event of her death, we inherited the estate to share-and-share alike. There was a list of the assets in question. All of the assets were ours, because mother had passed away at the same time as our father. He reached the end and said, "Are there any legal objections as to the particulars of the will?" We both shook our heads in the negative. "You must clearly state aloud as to your intentions."

"No, no objection," I said.

"No objection, none," Alex said.

"Good." He smiled. "Kirk, please record their responses. I'm sorry that I had to be so formal. Now you must sign the transfers of ownership and that will conclude my obligation to the estate. Please examine each document carefully. Make sure that it contains a complete and accurate accounting according to the details in the will."

Alex took a long time comparing the particulars of the transfer of ownership documents and the list contained in the will. "Looks right."

We signed the paperwork and Brawley gave us copies. Kirk signed as the witness for each document.

"Now that's over," Brawley said, "I can answer any questions that you may have. But first, I would like to talk to you about legal representation. Our firm prides itself upon being scrupulous and honest, and in that vein, I would like to explain why we provided you with this personal service." He cleared his throat.

"Your father knew of our reputation, and that is why he hired us to manage his legal affairs. To be frank, it's been a lucrative arrangement for our firm, and we've ensured that your father's financial transactions have totally complied with the law. You have no worries in that regard. We do not wish to lose you as a client. If you two would be willing we would like to continue to represent you."

"If you're our lawyer, can you answer some questions about our father?"

"Within reason, if it pertains to the estate and the trust. I will not, however, reveal anything that your father said to me in confidence."

I turned to Alex. "What do you think, Sis?"

"I think it's the only way we'll learn anything."

"Okay, I agree."

"Me too," she said.

"Good. I hoped you would. I have some power of attorney papers that you need to sign."

We signed the papers, and Brown witnessed them.

"Before you ask me any questions, Kirk must head back to the office. His work here is completed."

Brown said his goodbyes, and we shook hands. When he was driving out of the yard, I sat back down on the couch and looked at Brawley. "We've got a lot of questions, Mister Brawley. Do you have a lot of time?"

"I have about an hour before my next appointment, if there is more, I can see the both of you in my office where I have access to more information."

"Does this mean that anything we say now is confidential?" I asked.

Brawley looked puzzled. "Yes, attorney-client privilege. I may not divulge what you say, and I cannot be compelled to testify in court. However, I must warn you. I'm not a criminal layer."

"No, nothing like that." I noticed Alex wanted to join the conversation, so I deferred to her.

"What Paris's trying to say, Mister Brawley, is that we have some questions about our parents. We're not criminals."

"Thank you. I apologize. I admit. You had me concerned for a moment. I wonder. Could we dispense with the Misters and Misses? My name's Silas. Could I call you Paris and Alexandra?

"Please," I said.

Alex smiled. "Just call me Alex."

"Thank you. How can I help you, Paris? – Alex?"

Alex looked at me. I shrugged and indicated she should continue.

"Silas, there are circumstances surrounding Dad's death that lead us to believe it may not have been accidental."

"Also," I added, "we're completely mystified as to how our father could have acquired such wealth without our knowing it. To be honest, Dad was a researcher who wrote dry textbooks of interest only to academics and students. He wasn't a Stephen King, so where did he get all this money?" I gestured to the pile of papers. For some reason, I was reluctant to mention my father's letter.

"Ah, I think I can help you there, at least as to the question of how your father managed to build an estate. As to the accident – what makes you think it wasn't an accident?"

I frowned. "Some things the police said. Specifically, some comments by Officer Patterson and some things we have discovered about our parents that, quite frankly, leave us confused."

Silas stroked his chin. "It is not unusual for surviving children to discover the parents they thought they knew, represent something of an enigma upon the event of their passing. It happens. However, in this case, I too, viewed your father as someone who was – unusual."

He settled back into the armchair, and folded his hands, as though he needed some time to collect his thoughts. I waited patiently.

"Your father visited my law firm approximately ten years ago. He requested that we set up a trust because he had some money he wanted to invest. It was a little less than two hundred thousand dollars.

"He said that the money was a broker's fee for a sale he'd arranged of some rare coins. My firm is very cautious when accepting a client. We investigated the transaction, and found it to be legitimate. We have a great deal of experience in setting up trusts that have advantageous tax provisions, but your father insisted upon managing the investments himself. After a few years, the funds had grown, more than ten times. Your father was unbelievably successful in choosing investments. In fact, at one time, I considered following his success, but felt that it might be construed as a conflict of interest. I'm sorry now that I didn't. I also checked to see if there was any hint of insider trading. There wasn't. He was simply making the right choices at the right time.

"About two years ago, he moved the funds from more aggressive investments to very conservative interest bearing bonds and mutual funds. That is where the funds reside today.

"The strange aspect of your father's case is he wanted to keep his name and personal information as confidential as possible, particularly from the government. This was the reason for the trust. The trust pays the expenses for the farm, including the utilities and taxes. His income from his research activities and the small income from his books were set up as a not-for-profit arrangement under a 'creative commons license'. In short, as far as the government knew, your father didn't exist.

"He didn't file tax returns because he didn't have any taxable income that wasn't offset by the personal deduction. Your mother never earned any personal income at all. He made sure of that. All taxes for investment transactions were paid by the trust. –Does that answer your question?"

Alex answered. "No, not every question, but it's a start. We still don't know who our parents' families were or our family's history. Our parents' lives seem to have begun when we were born, and totally ended when they died."

"I have a question," I said. "Do you have a record of my father's or my mother's Social Security numbers? With that information I can find the answers I need."

Silas paused for a while, as though considering my request. "Maybe. Since he passed away, the attorney and client relationship no longer applies. But even though John has passed away, we were still friends, and certain confidences that we shared I promised to keep confident. I'll have to think about it. Believe me, it's nothing that would hurt you, in fact, it's meant to protect you."

He appeared to think for a while longer, and then continued.

"However, I will say this. There's a shadow culture that exists in this country, and I suspect, all over the world, that lives alongside ordinary people but shuns notice. These people have no documents other than false documents, no Social Security numbers, and no identification with the government of any kind. They don't pay taxes. They live through cash and barter transactions. As far as I've been able to determine, they have no fixed home. Some of these people haven't any scruples. They may lie, cheat, steal and sometimes kill in order to survive. Ages ago, they might have been called gypsies, although that's not an apt description of the real culture. Some call them Shadow People."

I felt a chill. "Silas, I think you're trying to tell us something by not telling us anything."

"I've told you more than you may realize." He paused long enough to make me feel uncomfortable. "I should go. I'll talk to the police department and make sure that the Police Chief is aware of how important it is to keep the accident investigation current. I'll also make some inquires of my own with the state police. I'll keep you informed as to anything I learn."

He rose from the chair, and walked to the front door. "Good day to both of you, congratulations on your good fortune. I'll be in touch soon. If you have any questions or if you discover anything further, call me." He stared at us as though to emphasize his statement. "Call me anytime of the day or night." He got in his car and headed for the highway.

We walked back in the house, closed the front door and turned to look at each other.

"Well," I said, "that was certainly interesting."

"Interesting? Is that what you call it? I feel like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, and the Great Oz just left the building. What was all that crap about shadow people? It sounds like the Twilight Zone!"

"Actually, I do remember reading an article about gypsies here in the U.S. They were ripping off elderly homeowners, particularly homeowners who had been the victim of a natural disaster such as a tornado or flood. They would move into an area, promise that they would repair the victims dwelling, usually for a very low price, and then they would demand the money up front. Next thing the victim knew they had absconded with the money without repairing anything. – Or worse, leaving the place in shambles. Who knows, maybe there are gypsies in the country."

"Mom and Dad? Gypsies? She started to giggle. "Can't you just picture Dad with a big gold earring, playing a violin? And Mom, beating on a tambourine twirling around the room? Give me a break."

I smiled. "Well, when you put it that way, it does seem sort of ridiculous."

"We need some answers that make sense and I know just where to find them. Come with me."

Alex led the way to the study. She sat down at Dad's desk and turned on the computer. I pulled up a chair to sit beside her.

As we waited for the machine to power up, she turned to me. "You know Big Brother, it feels strange sitting in his chair. It feels like I'm desecrating it, betraying Dad's memory."

"I know what you mean, but we'd better get used to it. Don't you realize that we own everything in this room?"

Alex shook her head. "No, I don't realize it. I may never realize it. What is Dad's is still Dad's. I feel if I own it, then Mom and Dad are really gone. I'm having trouble coping with that – Okay, the computer's running. What brilliant idea did you come up with before we left Jamestown?"

"Gotta love the Internet. Run Google and let's start searching."

Several useless sites, broken links and pop-up ads later, we finally hit pay dirt.

"Real estate listings for Jamestown," I said. "Type in the Jamestown address from the list, and let's find out who owns the property where the postal box sits."

After wading through several pages of information that we didn't need, Alex finally found a link to an ownership record for the mailbox property.

"Here we go." She hit the key. "And the owner is –" The name and address of a holding company appeared on the display. "Damn!" She glared at the screen.

We spent several hours searching the Net, trying to find names to go along with the addresses on the list. We tried government sources, the yellow pages, people finder sources, and credit reporting agencies. After a while, a pattern became apparent. The persons whose addresses were on the list simply did not want to be found. It was more fuel for the gypsy theory.

Alex sat back in the desk chair and folded her arms across her chest, staring at the screen. "I refuse to believe that all of these people could hide from the Internet. It contains every useful or useless fact on the planet."

I agreed with her, but it looked like we'd come to a dead end. "Nevertheless, it seems that they've done so."

Alex was obviously frustrated." I don't know where else to look for this information."

"I've got an idea. Search for 'gypsy'."

She snorted. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Humor me."

She typed in the search and called up the listings.

I pointed at the totals. "Nineteen million hits, not bad."

Alex laughed. "Are you kidding? Most of these hits are about a famous exotic dancer from the nineteen-forties."

I grinned. "I know. Bookmark these for me. I may want to browse them later."

"Right – Idiot."

"Okay, try 'shadow people'."

"Oh Paris, come on!"

"Just try it, Alex – one more time."

She typed the words into the computer, and studied the display. Her eyes grew wide.

"My God! More than twenty-three million hits and few of them deviate from the subject."

I leaned closer to study the screen. "I'm surprised. What have we found here?"

Alex shuddered. "I don't know, but I'm starting to not like it. It gives me the willies."

I laughed. "Toot–Toot, Toot–Toot, Toot–Toot. You have entered the Twilight–"

She smacked me on the arm. "Ah, shut up!"

As we browsed the various sites, we discovered three things. First, the people who contributed the site material totally believed in their subject. Second, the term referred to phantom people who materialized out of thin air when you were glancing away, or shadows that appeared briefly in your side vision. Third, the shadow people could affect and influence normal human beings. There were several theories as to who or what the shadow people were, but most of the conjecture sounded baseless.

I shoved my chair back from the desk. "Well, we need to explore this, but it's too much to take in one sitting. I suggest you take a break. I've got to spend some time on this computer, earning a living. Why don't you take my car, get some take-out for supper, and check the jewelry store."

"Sounds like a plan." She shot up from the chair. "Wow, I get to drive Big Brother's car."

I winced. Alex drove like a maniac. "Don't scratch it." I called to her retreating back.

While she was gone, I decided to check the study, looking for anything that could help us. I felt slightly guilty, poring over Dad's possessions. It was as if I was invading his privacy. Intellectually, I knew that the thought was irrational, as he would never use them again, ever, and this brought a feeling of sorrow. _Get hold of yourself. You're just doing what Dad would want you to do_. The thought brought a measure of peace.

The study contained a bookcase, some wooden filing cabinets, some mementos of his accomplishments, a lot of artifacts, and a desk, upon which the computer sat. I examined the bookcase. There were copies of his books, some books on ancient history, one on the subject of alchemy, and two on the occult. I checked all of the titles, but none touched upon the subject of 'shadow people'.

I moved to the filing cabinets. They were nearly all full of files. I examined the index tabs. "Thank you Dad!" I said aloud. All the files were carefully indexed according to subject. It wouldn't be hard to find information. I looked for anything that referred to financial or household matters, finding nothing. I searched for 'shadow people', nothing. After a few minutes of checking, I closed the file cabinets, and turned to the computer.

I quit worrying about it, sat behind the desk, and turned to the mundane business of making a living. I checked the corporate web site for my company emails. As usual, there were several pages. I busied myself with answering the ones requesting information, deleting the unimportant ones, and finally finding an email from Harvey. I read it and groaned.

He had a long list of items he wanted completed immediately, along with a new schedule of completion dates, and several attachments that required my attention, some of them were drawings that needed engineering changes. This was going to take a long time, possibly days to complete. I reflected upon the amount of time that I could possibly spend perusing my personal problems and the requirements of my job.

_I only have a week to settle this, maybe two if I can string it out. After that amount of time, I'll have to head back to Covington with Alex_. For some reason, leaving her alone on the farm filled me with dread. Then it hit me. _So what if they fire you? You're independently wealthy. You don't have to work. You can tell them to take a hike_. I made a mental note to call Silas Brawley about finances in the morning.

I started work on the items on the list, ignoring the drawings. I figured I'd have to get a copy of the drawing package for that requirement.

After and hour or so, Alex returned with the food.

"How did it go?" I called from the study.

"Got the food. The necklaces will be ready tomorrow."

She came into the study and stood over me. "Here, grab a burger. How's it going? By the way, your car's a dream to drive."

I smiled at her and then scowled. "My boss is a jackass. He expects me to complete all of this work while I'm here, even though we're ahead of schedule – by the way – thanks to my efforts. It doesn't leave time to breathe, let alone run around looking for clues for the reason for Mom and Dad's _accident_."

"Then, don't do it," she said, nibbling on a french-fry.

"Don't do what? Work on my job, or find our parents' killers?"

"Paris, I thought about this on the way into Jamestown. We're independently wealthy. We don't have to do anything we don't want to."

"I know, Sis. I thought about it too. But, I want to work. I take a great deal of satisfaction in creating something. It's a part of who I am. I'd feel like a parasite living on Dad and Mom's inheritance."

She sighed. "Actually, I feel the same. I wonder if they wanted us to be independent. Is that why they didn't use the money? They could have sent us to the best colleges in the country. Or was it just that they wanted to keep a low profile? Whatever, I know how you feel. I'll tell you what, why don't you do the best job you can, and let that set your priorities. Let the results guide you."

I relaxed at that statement. "You're right. I'll be burning the midnight oil, so why don't you read a book or watch TV, or something."

"We need another computer."

I agreed. "Yes, and I plan to do something about that tomorrow. I'll need a more powerful computer for my engineering work. I've a friend at the company who can install the drawing software, but we'll have to hit a computer store."

Alex waved a finger at me. "I've got to warn you, Paris, you may need to go all the way to Russell Springs or Columbia to find one."

"I'll let my fingers do the walking. Besides, I'll need more than just the computer. We'll have to network them to the Internet, so that'll mean more hardware. I'll take care of it tomorrow."

Alex nodded. "I may as well get something accomplished myself." She removed one of Dad's books from the bookcase. "See you later."

I worked through the remainder of the afternoon and evening. Eventually, soft music wafted in from the living room. Periodically, Alex would wander into the study to select another book. They were thick books. She couldn't have been reading them; she was probably searching them for clues. Night closed around the house as I continued to work.
Chapter 4

### Intruders, Guns, and a Diary

The house felt warm from the heat of the day, so I opened the study window to allow a breeze to enter. The night grew soft and cool as I continued to work and the crickets sang through the open window.

Suddenly, something prompted me to stop and I glanced at the time displayed on the computer screen. _Damn, it's midnight_. I'd been working for at least six hours straight.

I wondered what had caused me to quit. Something felt wrong, what was it? Then it hit me. The crickets had stopped their song.

I knew from experience that crickets do not become quiet unless some animal or person intrudes upon their space. What had stopped the noise?

Uneasy, I walked over to the window, careful to cast no shadow, and peeked through the curtain.

When I served in Iraq, I'd been trained to conduct house-to-house reconnaissance and clearing. Habits learned from my experience returned automatically. I waited for a moment and closed my eyes to allow my night vision to adjust to the darkness.

By the diffused light shining from the window, I scanned the yard and the trees bordering the farmhouse.

There. – Movement.

I glanced away from the place I saw the motion, to use my light-sensitive side vision in order to make out details. Standing in the yard, and hidden under the trees, I discerned the faint outline of a person. He or she watched the house.

In Kentucky, no one trespassed upon another person's property without asking permission. To do so was to invite an ass-full of salt or bird shot from a shotgun, and no one, positively no one, prowled a person's property or house at midnight.

I hurried to the living room. Alex lay upon the couch, fast asleep, with an open book draped across her chest.

I lightly stepped over to the couch, placed my hand across her mouth, and whispered. "Wake up Alex. Don't make any sound."

She gave out with a little yelp, which was muffled by my hand. She looked at me, startled.

"Hush."

Her eyes were wide. She gestured at me to remove my hand from her mouth. "What's wrong?"

"A prowler, or prowlers, outside. Call the police. I'm going out to investigate. Lock the door behind me."

"Do you think that's smart? Why not call the cops, and wait here?"

I thought about it. "I want to find out who's watching us. Trust me; I know what I'm doing. I've been through it before. Just quietly call the police, and lock the door behind me."

I moved, crawling to the front door and crouched behind the lower panel. The door was half glass, half-wood and I made sure that my silhouette did not shadow the glass. Alex crawled behind me with the cordless phone in her hand. The living room was dimly lit, and I realized that I was going to indicate my intent if I opened it. Alex kneeled beside me.

"I'm going out the back way. Lock this door and call the police."

I left Alex in the living room and crouched, hurrying my way through the hallway to the rear door in the kitchen.

The kitchen was dark, so I risked opening the door, hoping that no one watched the rear of the house.

Rapidly exiting the house, I paused until my night vision re-established itself.

Moving slowly and keeping low, I crept around the corner of the house, toward the site of the intruder.

Approaching the trees while keeping some cover between the prowler and myself, I surveyed the area. Two figures watched the house, not one.

I stopped to think.

The Army had taught me that to take an unknown position you must first gather intelligence, and then assault the position with overwhelming firepower. It was the way to minimize casualties and insure that the objective was secured.

If there'd been only one prowler, I would have chanced that I could take him from behind and subdue him before he could bring superior force into the fight.

With two prowlers, possibly more, the smart course was to wait and gather information. I reluctantly accepted the wise choice, although I was enraged because they'd intruded upon my security.

Waiting was tedious. After about fifteen minutes, I heard the sounds of a siren on the highway. The two figures under the trees focused upon the sound. They moved back into the darkness and suddenly they seemed to vanish, as though they were never there.

I waited, holding still, until I heard the sound of a car rolling into the yard. Colored lights flashed on the trees. I looked for the prowlers, but they were nowhere to be seen.

Knowing that if the police came searching, they'd be startled by my presence and likely mistake me for the prowler, I quietly moved to the kitchen door and let myself into the house.

I walked back to the living room, calling loudly that it was me. The police could get nervous in potentially tense situations, and I didn't want to be shot by a jumpy cop.

Bob Patterson stood in the living room as I entered, talking to Alex. "They're gone Bob, the siren scared them off," I said.

"Where were you? What do you mean by them? How do you know they're gone?"

"I was watching from the back of the house. As soon as your prowl car showed up, they high-tailed it out of here. There were two of them that I could see. There may have been others but I couldn't see them."

"I'm calling for backup," Bob said.

I considered it. It wouldn't hurt to have the police search the place. Maybe they could find some evidence of who the people were. Alex looked worried, her eyes darting nervously around the room.

"While we're waiting," I said, "would you folks like some coffee?" I'd made a pot shortly before the intrusion.

"No," Bob said, "I've had enough at the station."

"I'd like a cup," Alex said.

I went to the kitchen, warmed up the coffee, and poured two cups. When I returned to the living room, Alex sat alone on the couch and I could see another police vehicle's lights in the front yard.

"Bob went outside to help the other officer search," she said, sipping at the steaming brew.

"Did he say anything?"

"Just that they would check the grounds and come back to take a report. He said to not leave the house and lock the door until they returned."

We waited.

After a few minutes, Bob returned and knocked on the front door. "Police Officer Patterson," he shouted, "please open the door."

I unlocked the door and let him in.

"Whoever they were, they're gone," he said. "It's too dark to look for footprints or other evidence. I'll take the report, and an officer will be back at daylight. Now, what happened?"

I gave him a detailed accounting of the events of the last hour, including my observations as to the nature of the prowlers.

"You don't seem very concerned," he said. "Most people would be rattled by something like this."

"I've had a lot of experience."

"You were in the Army, right?"

"Yeah, Ranger Battalion."

"Me too, MP company."

Alex interjected. "Paris was a first lieutenant in the Army. He was in Iraq."

I shrugged. "I'm a reserve officer, Alex. No big deal."

Bob eyed me. "First a burglar, and now a prowler? You can handle a gun. You should get one."

"Oh, I will, tomorrow. By the way, why were you the one who responded to the 911 call?"

"It was my turn for the night shift. You know, this looks suspicious, Paris. I mean, your parents are killed in a potentially bogus 'accident'. You had someone try to burglarize your house, and now you have prowlers checking out your property? I think the Chief will want to talk to you."

"Any time. If it will get the accident investigation moving again, I'll be happy to cooperate."

He seemed mollified. "Okay. Lock both doors and the windows. One of the other officers or I will drive by through the night to check the farm. You folks try to get some sleep." With that, he said goodnight, climbed into his squad car, and drove back to the highway.

I turned to Alex. "Will you be able to sleep?"

"Not alone," she replied.

I hugged her. She trembled. "It's over, Alex. You're safe."

I leaned back and looked at her. "Okay – you take the couch, and I'll stretch out on the living room chair. I've got to save my work on the computer. It'll just take a minute."

When I returned to the living room, all of the lights were ablaze. Alex huddled on the couch hugging a pillow, softly crying.

Anger surged through me. Whoever was hounding us was going to pay, I thought. They're going to pay big-time.

I sat down beside her on the floor and leaned back to touch her head. "Go to sleep babe. I'll be here."

Sometime in the early morning, we both fell asleep. When I woke I found myself lying on the living room rug, a pillow under my head. Alex still slept on the couch.

I looked at the clock. It was eight-thirty, so I tiptoed in my socks to the kitchen, dumped the remains of last night's coffee, and made a fresh pot.

As soon as it finished brewing, I took two full cups to the living room. "Alexandra – Alex honey, wake up. Here, I've made some coffee."

She groggily sat up on the couch and took the cup from my hands.

"What time is it?"

"Eight-thirty. The police should be here soon, why don't you go upstairs and take a bath? I'll make some breakfast."

"I'm tired," she said. "I could use some more sleep."

"Whatever, but the police will be here, and I don't think you want them to think you slept in your clothes, even though you did."

"Ugh. You're right. Okay – a cold shower.

"Make it a warm bath, Sis."

"I'll decide when I get there." She left the living room.

I returned to the kitchen. As I started to remove the eggs from the refrigerator, the front doorbell rang. I returned to the living room and unlocked the door.

"Oh, Good morning, Chief Cunningham," I said.

"Mornin' Paris."

"Please come in."

He entered the front door and stood in the living room.

"Sit down, Chief. Would you like a cup of coffee? It's fresh brewed."

"Thanks, I'll take a cup."

I went to the kitchen, poured him a cup, returned with the coffee, and sat on the couch.

"Heard you folks had a bit of trouble last night," he said.

"Something like that. Not many people trespass on a farm at midnight in Kentucky. It was real unusual. We were worried."

"Unusual? It's unheard of! I won't make a fuss if you load up their backsides with birdshot should they come back. Just don't kill 'em. The paperwork is murderous!" He chuckled.

"Chief, if they try to come through that door, it won't be bird shot that greets them. It'll be something a lot more lethal."

"Can't say as I blame you. Just be careful. Make sure, before you shoot. Some of my officers will be checkin' the farm today. We'll try to find out if they came from the highway or through the woods. For the time bein', lock your doors and windows. Don't hesitate to call 911. We'll be here as soon as possible. I hate for this to happen in my town. It makes me angry. Did you get a good enough look to identify them? Could it have been one of those newcomers to town?"

"Too dark to tell and the trespassers ran when your officers arrived. I've never met or seen any of the new folks."

"The bird that tried to burglarize your house says he was paid to do it. He either can't or won't tell us anythin' else. Have you had any threatnin' phone calls? Any one in Covington threaten any harm?"

"No, Chief, nothing like that."

"How 'bout your sister? Anyone stalkin' her? Any bad ex-boyfriends?"

"Not that I know of, and trust me, if she knew of anyone, she'd tell me. You wouldn't have to do anything. I'd neuter them." The thought brought my confined rage to the conversation. I'd die before I let anyone hurt Alex.

The Chief laughed. "Relax, Paris, I was just checkin'. – Did Alex see them? By the way, where is she?"

"She was sleeping when it started. She's upstairs in the bathroom. She could be there a while."

"Tell her I said hello. I'll be goin' now."

"I will, thank you, Chief."

He left the house and called to one of the officers. They conferred for a time, and then he climbed into his cruiser and drove to the highway.

I took a while to calm myself before I returned to the kitchen. By the time Alex finished her bath, I had breakfast cooked and ready to serve. "Took a bath, huh?"

"Yes, I took your advice, glad I did. I feel better."

"Good, cheese omelets for breakfast, dig in."

We ate our breakfast in silence. Finally, Alex spoke.

"Paris, maybe we should forget this. I mean – maybe we should let the past go, and focus on the future. I'm scared. I'm worried that I am entering a place I shouldn't go. I feel that maybe if I let the past die, the things that frighten me will go away."

I thought about her words. Although we were close, very close, both in our feelings and the way we approached the world, I was aware that there was a huge gulf between us due to our experiences and our sex.

I didn't pretend to understand the differences between a male and a female, but I knew that the danger that I learned to survive in the Army had changed me in a fundamentally different way.

I was eager, not only eager, but implacably determined to find the answers. The volcano in me smoked. How could anyone dare to threaten my family, the only family I had left? They would pay. If necessary, they would pay with their lives. I tried to calm myself, and after the rage subsided, I replied.

"Alex, I understand. If you need to, you can take the key to my apartment and move to Covington. In fact, I would rather you move to Covington. Forget this past week. Go to my apartment and start school. Be happy. Find friends. Build a life. As for me, I cannot let this go. Someone took away my mother and my father. They likely killed them. The same people threatened the only person I love and that cannot be tolerated. These people will cease to exist. If it takes my whole life, I will find the truth and obtain justice. You can call it an obsession, you can call it anything you like, but I will end this."

She looked worried. "You need a partner, Paris. You can't do this alone."

She paused and bit her lip. "If you have the courage, then I have the courage. What's the first thing on the list today?"

I found some paper in the study and we made a list.

Buy a computer.

Pick up the jewelry.

Secure the house. Hardware store?

Call Brawley. Get some money?

Buy food and snacks.

"Add 'buy a weapon' to the list," I said.

Alex hesitated and frowned. "Oh, I forgot to tell you, you don't need to buy guns, Dad's got them locked up in the basement.

"What guns? Dad didn't own weapons."

"I saw them the last time I visited. He has a gun safe down in the basement."

"What kind of weapons are there?"

"There's two long ones and a short one. The short one is a hand gun, – I think."

"I need to see this. Dad positively hated guns. He always said that 'an idiot with a gun was more correctly defined as a dead idiot'."

She shrugged. "I saw them. The key's in Dad's desk. He made sure I knew where it was."

I took the gun-safe key from the desk and went down to the basement.

Opening the gun-safe, I examined the weapons. There was a pump-action twelve-gauge Mossberg, with an eighteen-inch barrel, a nine-millimeter Glock semiautomatic with a belt holster, and an AR-15 with an infrared, telescopic sight.

I examined the weapons for cleanliness, and moved the action to check if they were loaded. They all seemed well cared for. The shotgun was a cheap defensive weapon and I'd carried a Glock in Iraq. I knew the weapon well. The shotgun and the automatic I could understand. They were close-in weapons, suitable for self-defense.

The AR 15 was another matter, an expensive killing weapon, an aggressive weapon. It had a bulky infrared scope. Why? A starlight scope would have been better, it weighed less. I knew Dad didn't hunt animals. Therefore, the only prey this weapon was purchased for was the two-legged kind. Why did he own it?

I checked the gun-safe for ammunition. There were some boxes of rounds for each weapon and three loaded magazines for the Glock. I made a mental note to double them.

I returned the weapons, and locked the cabinet. "Dad wasn't a gun-nut. When he bought these weapons, he had a reason. Do you have any idea why he would want them?"

"No." Alex began. "I'm nervous around guns. Dad offered to teach me to use them, but I didn't think it was necessary. I wish now that I had."

"Anyhow, I'm glad they're here. I can teach you basic weapon safety, and later we can practice at the firing range. Right now, we've got errands to run."

We went upstairs to the study, and I put the gun-safe key back in the desk. "You take my car and hit the grocery store and the jewelers, and I'll make some phone calls to take care of my computer problems. Later, we'll call Silas and arrange to get some cash."

Alex disappeared upstairs. Soon, she came thundering back down the stairs, grabbed the car keys, and rushed out the front door. I ambled back into the kitchen to retrieve my cell phone from the sink counter. I opened my phone book and keyed the name of the company IT specialist. A voice answered after few rings.

"Johnson and Robins Engineering, Tom Bradley here."

"Hey Tom, It's Paris Fox."

"W's up Paris?"

"I need a favor."

"Uh–oh when I get the word 'favor' from you, I know I'm in trouble."

"Hey dude. Ain't sumpin' you can't handle. I know you. You're my favorite IT guy."

He laughed. "Now I know I'm really in trouble."

"You know that I went on bereavement leave to take care of my parents' funeral arrangements, don't you?"

He sobered "Yeah Paris, I'm sorry, it's tough to lose your parents."

"Well, some things have come up and I can't return yet. Harvey is hounding me to do some work while I'm here and I need the CAD package to take care of it. Can you help me?"

"What do you need?"

"I know it's a lot to ask, Tom, but first, I need the computer specs for a computer that will support the program, and then I need you to come down and install it. I'll owe you big time. Trust me, I can think of a way to make it even."

There was silence on the phone. "What do you need the specs for?"

"To buy a computer."

"Paris, its company business. I can bring your workstation loaded with your files and the package. When do you need it? Do you have a fast internet connection?"

I was relieved. "That would be great dude. What do you want, my car, my life? – Come to think of it, you can't have my car, it's too new. – How about a used life?"

He laughed. "Just have plenty of beer."

"I don't know if there's beer but I've got a good wine cellar. When can you come?"

"Hey man, its company business," he repeated. "I'm on my way. Besides, Southern Kentucky is nice, I haven't been there in awhile. Expect me in about three to four hours. Have food on the table, and I'll bring the beer."

"Good. I could use a brew."

I gave him the directions to the farm. "See you soon."

"Right. I'm on my way. Bye Paris."

I terminated the call. I liked Tom. He was the only IT technician in the company who seemed to have a personality. The others were sullen and resentful, and treated you like an idiot if you asked them to do anything. Working as an engineer required me to be a slave to a computer. The advent of the computer had changed engineering in fundamental ways. I had to be able to use a computer and to be computer literate, to survive.

While Alex was gone, I turned to a task we had both been dreading. I needed to search our parents' room. After our first abortive attempt, we'd been avoiding it. As things were, I didn't think that Alex could handle it without breaking down. Although I wasn't sure that I could do it, I resolved to try.

I reluctantly climbed the stairs, and walked to my parents' bedroom. It was their retreat, their place for making love. It was the only place that their presence survived. I felt like a child, invading my parents' privacy.

I opened the door and stepped inside. Immediately, I felt tears in my eyes. The room was restful, beautiful and sunny. I choked down a sob. God, I couldn't do this.

I looked around the room. The bed was made, just as Mom had left it on that fateful day. It was romantically decorated, as though they may have been planning to use it for lovemaking when they returned. My mother's dresser held the things that she had used in this life. I could still smell the lingering scent of her perfume. The echoes of her life surrounded me.

Sadness overwhelmed me, and tears ran from my eyes. In an instant black anger replaced the sorrow. The monsters who killed them should be ground to paste and the remnants fed to the hogs.

The anger strengthened my resolve, and I began to look through the room. I checked the closet, shuffling through the clothes. I checked the shelves in the closet, looking for any items that might contain a written record. I found nothing. I checked the chest, the bed, the headboard, nothing.

I walked into the bathroom. I checked the medicine cabinet. In addition to toothpaste, hair spray, Tylenol, and other normal over-the-counter preparations, there were two prescriptions, one with my father's name, and one with my mother's. I checked the bottles and their contents. A few pills remained in each. I mentally took note of the names of the drugs to check their purpose with a pharmacist.

I finally turned to the place I'd been avoiding. I ignored the items placed upon the top and opened Mother's dresser drawers. I examined the first drawer, to find cosmetics and perfumes. The second drawer contained underwear. I hurriedly closed it.

The third drawer contained more of the same. It was in the fourth drawer, that something caught my eye. Beneath some blouses, I found a small book.

Inscribed on the book cover, in gold letters, were the words, 'Mother's Diary'. I immediately recognized the book as a gift that Alex had bought for our mother on one of her numerous trips. I'd been there when she had given it to her. I nearly unlatched the ornate gold clasp to read it, when I realized that this book was not mine alone, it was for Alex and I to share.

I restored the items that I'd disarranged, closed the door to the bedroom and returned to the study, clutching the precious book in my hand.

I'd sat behind Dad's desk and had just slipped the book in the drawer, when Alex returned.

"Paris I need help with the groceries."

I went out to the front of the house and started carrying bags into the kitchen. "Alex, this is a lot of food, how can we eat it all before it spoils?"

"I have a feeling we'll be staying longer than we thought," she said, "besides, there's a host of goodies in that bag, in addition to fresh vegetables and breakfast stuff. Trust me, we'll eat it. – Check this out."

She removed some glittering jewelry from one of the packages.

She displayed the necklaces for my viewing. "I decided on white gold," she said, "and here are the bags. The medallions fit right inside them." Nothing's too good for my big brother, as long as I get to drive your car."

I examined the chain and locket. After all the events of the past two days, they seemed unimportant. The memory of the letter with its absurd contents had faded, and I felt a little silly thinking of ceremoniously depositing the medallions in the locket, let alone encasing them in bags.

I set the chain and locket down on the kitchen table. "They're nice, thank you."

"They're nice? Is that all you can say? Paris I thought we were going to use them. I like them, and they weren't cheap. Come on. Let's do this. You'll look sexy with a gold chain."

"I'll look like an imitation drug dealer."

"Suit yourself. I'm going to use mine."

She removed the leather case from the counter where we'd placed it, and opened it. She removed her medallion from the recess, and placed it in the locket which had been designed to allow the medallion to fit snugly within.

She closed the locket and clasped the chain around her neck. Immediately, a smile lit her face, and she said, "This feels good. I don't think I want the jewelry bag."

I had to admit that the chain and locket looked good on her. She modeled it, allowing the locket to drape between her breasts. The shining gold enhanced the colors of her shoulders and bosom. It did look attractive.

"Looks nice," I said.

"Feels good. Try it. I think you'll like it."

I sighed. "Okay, I'll try it."

I opened the clasp of the locket, removed the medallion from the dispatch case and placed the medallion in the locket. I fastened the clasp of the chain around my neck and allowed the locket to fall inside my shirt. I felt a tingling sensation and then a feeling of warmth.

My mood lightened, and the anxieties that had plagued me all day faded. Suddenly, all things seem possible, as though I could encounter any obstruction and cause it to vanish. Intellectually, I knew that this was a false feeling. Problems would not go away just because I wished it, but the feeling of confidence was welcome. I needed it.

"This is weird, Alex. It's unnatural. These medallions have some sort of abilities I don't understand."

"I know, isn't it neat?" she said, "I feel like I could wear this thing forever."

"Alex, I think we need the bags until we can cope with this."

"Wet blanket," she replied.

Then she sighed. "Maybe you're right. Here." She handed me the jewelers' bag.

I placed my locket inside the velvet bag and tied the drawstring. When I dropped the chain back inside my shirt, the feeling of elation subsided, but did not vanish. I could think clearer, about more immediate problems, such as how were these objects able to influence us?

"Sis, we need to understand how these chunks of metal work. They go beyond any physics that I've ever learned. They shouldn't be able to do what they do. The question is why? How are these objects any different from any other piece of metal? What makes them so special? Until we know, we have to be cautious. We'll wear them like Dad requested, but they stay in the bags, understand?"

"Yeah, I guess so. Okay. It's in the bag." She laughed, and placed her locket in the velvet bag. The elation faded from her face, replaced by introspection. "Interesting, I feel good, but not out of control. You're right. Take it a little piece at a time. How goes the search for a computer?"

"Easier. Tom Bradley, the IT tech at the company, is bringing my workstation loaded with software. He'll set it up for me."

"Is he handsome?"

"How would I know?"

"Dear, dear, brother, you've got to get your priorities straight."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Your job is to bring home hot guys so I get to pick and choose."

"Oh, really? Okay, your job is to bring home ravishing girls so I get to pick and choose."

"I hate it when you get logical on me."

"We've got time enough to hit the hardware store and that's about all. Do you want to go with me or stay here?"

She glanced outside and gave a tiny shudder. "I'll go with you. I don't want to be alone in the house."

We went to the hardware store and bought hasps, locks and chains. After we returned home, I went outside to the barn, and started installing locks. Alex worked to prepare lunch. In about two hours, she called from the house.

"Paris there's someone here to see you."

"Just a minute." I finished the last two screws of the hasp and went around the house to the front door. Standing on the porch was a large bear of a man, his long black hair tied back behind his neck. He waited nervously in front of the door guarded by Alex. "Tom! Thanks for coming. I didn't expect you for at least another hour."

"You know me, I drive fast." He continued to surreptitiously glance at Alex.

"It's at least three and a half to four hours from Cincy to here."

"I drive very fast."

"Tom I want you to meet my sister, Alexandra Fox. Please come in and make yourself at home."

I eyed him. Tom was the most unlikely candidate for a computer geek that anyone could have imagined. He stood over six feet tall, had long wavy black hair and sported a large muscular body. In addition, he played base guitar in an amateur rock band. They ordinarily practiced on the weekends and sometimes performed in rock concerts.

"Alex, this is my good friend Tom Bradley. He works with me at the company. He volunteered to bring my computer."

Looking up at him, Alex reached out her hand. "Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise." He enveloped her hand in his big grip.

Alex smiled. "Won't you please sit down? Would you like something to drink? We have some fresh coffee."

"A glass of water would be nice, I'm about coffee'd out."

Alex went back to the kitchen to pour a glass of water.

He turned to me, wide-eyed. "That's your sister? She's freaking gorgeous. Do you think I might–?"

I laughed. "She handles that end of the business, dude, it's up to her."

"Wow!"

Alex brought the water back and set it on the coffee table. "I'm in the middle of making some food, and I don't have time to chat. Why don't you guys take care of computer business and I'll finish preparing our lunch?"

"Good idea, how long?"

"About fifteen minutes."

"Fine, Tom?"

He tore his eyes from Alex. "Oh, yeah. Yeah, sure."

Tom and I went out to his car. He opened the back door to reveal a pile of computer hardware littering the back seat.

"Where's the computer?" I said.

"In the trunk."

"Then what's all this for?"

"Hey, you gotta have a switcher, cables, a UPS, a surge protector, keyboard, mouse, and all the rest. You didn't think I was gonna do a schlock job for you, did you?"

"Chill. I just wanted to know. What's first?"

"First is, how do I get a date with your sister?"

"I told you. You'll have to figure that out for yourself."

"You know that favor you said you'll owe me? I'll call it even for just one date. She's beautiful, drop-dead gorgeous."

"Relax Tom. If Alex likes you, you stay liked. You don't have to do anything."

We carried hardware into the study. We'd just gotten around to the computer when Alex called, "Lunch, guys, come and get it."

We washed up and went into the kitchen. The table groaned with food. I leaned to Tom and whispered. "It's Okay man, seems you're liked."

We sat down to eat. During the meal, Tom kept us entertained with tales of the antics of the members of his rock band and the idiosyncrasies of his coworkers. I was delighted because Alex smiled and laughed often. She hadn't done that enough recently.

After we'd consumed enough food, Tom and I went back to the study to finish the computer installation.

We'd just finished connecting the components and were checking out the Internet connection when Alex walked in.

"I was bored. How's it going guys?"

"We're just checking it out," I said.

"Good," she said, "maybe it's too much to ask, but could you guys look at Dad's computer next, I think there are some bad files on it."

"Bad files? What kind of bad files?"

"I don't know, I was browsing through the hard drive, and I found a directory that pertained to Dad, and when I tried to open it, it gave me a strange error message."

"What kind of message?"

"Err, I don't know, just – strange."

"Alex, strange doesn't cut it. You need to be more spec–"

Tom cut in. "Don't sweat it Alex, I'll check it out."

He finished my computer, and then sat down in front of Dad's desktop.

"Show me," he said to Alex.

She picked up a spare chair and sat next to him.

Deciding I didn't want to be in the way, I went back outside to finish installing the lock hardware.

After fitting the last hasp and installing the padlock, I put up the tools and reentered the study. By this time, Tom and Alex were in animated conversation. I waited for a pause before I asked, "How's it going guys?"

"Not so good," Tom replied. "You need the administrator password to access these files, and we don't have it. You don't happen to know what it is, do you."

"No, I thought Alex would know."

"I don't," she replied.

"Your dad was smart. He deleted all of the easy access points, including the administrator account, and set himself up as sole administrator. Without his user name and password, it will take some serious hacking software to look at these files."

"Can you do it?"

"Not with what I brought with me," he replied. "I've got some stuff at home that might help, but I'll have to come back with it."

"Tom, we've imposed upon your friendship enough, as it is. You don't have to do this. We'll find a way."

"It's not a big deal, Paris, I want to do it. I'll tell you what, today is Friday, and I have band practice with the guys tomorrow, so why don't I come back Sunday and see if I can crack this thing. Consider it a challenge." He winked at Alex. She grinned back at him.

"Okay, as long as you're fine with this."

"You bet. I want to do it. I'll be back on Sunday with the tools."

"Thank you Tom, I owe you huge time now."

"Hey. What's a friend for? See you Sunday."

We picked up the spare equipment and I walked him to his car. Alex gave him a peck on the cheek. He blushed, and hopped into the driver's seat. Soon, he headed back to the highway.

As we walked back into the house, I turned to Alex. "What did you do to him?"

"Nothing. I like him. He's a big, warm, cuddly teddy bear of a man. You watch. We're going to be lifelong friends." She smiled happily.

Back in the living room, the afternoon sun cast long shadows across the floor. Suddenly, I remembered the diary. Asking Alex to sit on the couch, I settled into the easy chair.

"I've got something to tell you, Sis. While you were gone, I searched Mom and Dad's bedroom, and I found something."

She appeared apprehensive. "What is it?"

"I think its Mom's diary."

She exhaled with a whoosh, and fell back in the couch. "What's in it?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. I didn't feel right reading it without you."

She bit her lower lip. "Where is it?"

"In the study."

Her shoulders slumped. "Go on, get it. I suppose we should get this over with."

"Are you going to be all right with this?" I asked.

"It doesn't matter. Get it, Paris, I want to know."

I went to the study, retrieved the diary, and brought it back to the living room. Sitting back down in the chair, I reached out to hand the book to Alex.

"You open it, Paris. I can't."

I hesitated. Like Alex, I dreaded what lay inside. "Maybe she didn't write in it."

"Hah. It was a birthday gift from me Paris. Trust me, she wrote in it."

I opened the clasp and cautiously turned the book to the first entry. I knew at a glance, that she had written in the diary, copiously.

I started reading it and chuckled.

"What's so funny?" Alex asked.

"Mom. She's got a good sense of humor. Here, she's complaining that she'll never be a grandmother unless we get less picky."

"Let me see."

We took turns, reading excerpts from the daily life of our mother, laughing over passages written with a surprising level of skill and wit. She made her life come alive. Sometimes we grew sad when she talked about her love for us, but it was always a sort of positive sadness. We missed her.

Several pages into the diary, the entries grew more somber. She started to worry about Dad. I stopped reading.

"What was the date of that last entry?" Alex asked.

"About a year ago," I replied.

She raised her eyebrows. "I wonder what she was thinking?"

I held the book open in my hands. "We won't know, unless we finish this."

Her look became apprehensive. "I don't know if I want to know."

"Alex, this could provide some of the answers."

"I know, get on with it." Her jaws clenched, as though awaiting a blow.

I swallowed, trying to rid my throat of the tight knot that constricted it. "This is hard."

I began to read. The entries grew sparse. Sometimes weeks passed between entries, occasionally a whole month. Each entry talked about Dad's efforts to prepare us for some future danger, the nature of which she didn't reveal.

Finally, I came to the last entries, the month that they died. It was very hard to continue. I stopped.

Alex leaned forward. Tension etched her face. "Why did you stop?"

My hands shook. "I don't want to read the last page. I don't think I can."

Finally, I took a few deep breaths, composed myself and continued.

John wants to tell Paris and Alex when they next visit. I don't think I could bear it. They are the children I wasn't able to conceive, but they are as much mine as though I had given birth to them. I would be devastated if they thought worse of me for concealing the facts of their birth, but John thinks it is necessary to ensure their safety. He is not the only one who can keep secrets. He wants me to guide the children if something happens to him, as though I could live, if he wasn't with me.

I cleared my throat. "The last entry is dated the day they died."

I am so frightened. He wants to talk to them, to reason with them, as though they were creatures capable of reason. They are more powerful than I am. More powerful than John. Maybe, more powerful than Paris and Alex. He wants to go alone. I will not let him. Perhaps the two of us can withstand them. If this is to be his last night on earth, it will be mine also, La vie l'amour.

I choked the last words through sobs. Alex cried softly and collapsed on the couch.

Letting the book fall to my lap, I let the tears flow. They were more than tears of sorrow now. They mixed with tears of rage.

She was my mother, regardless of an accident of birth. The thought that such a wonderful person had to bear such burdens, that she was not here so that I could tell her that it was all right, that I loved her.

Then, there was the rage. I wanted to kill someone. I wanted to hurt the person or people who hurt my mother. I wanted them to feel more than the pain that I felt. I wanted them to die, slowly.

We both lapsed into rekindled grief. We listlessly brooded, each preoccupied with our own separate pain, as we had done when we had first learned of our parents' deaths.

I was the first to speak. "Do you want to talk now?"

Alex looked away. "No, but you can, if you want."

"Okay, I will." I composed myself again.

I thought about what I really felt. "Alex, a part of me wants to forget the past few days. I don't believe in conspiracies. I don't believe that people are out to get me. Why should they? I've done nothing I'm aware of to make anyone hate me, or wish to hurt me. This could be an awful joke or colossal mistake."

The thought that someone might be toying with my feelings, caused the rage to intensify. "But another part of me is thirsting for revenge. I am really angry. I want to strike out at something. I want to hurt something or someone, but I don't have a clear target for my anger. It's so frustrating. I thought I knew who I was. I thought I knew my family. To have all of that turned upside down in just a few days – it's not something I can walk away from. I have to know."

Alex appeared to be wrestling with her feelings and didn't immediately answer. "I know that it would be better for me if I could forget it, but Mom's a different matter. I heard the pain that she felt from the diary."

Her tears appeared and started flowing. "I never want to feel like that. But I feel so guilty. I'm starting to hate our father. He started all of this with his ranting. If he had kept his mouth shut, we wouldn't care. Why did he do it? What possible motive could he have? I'm frustrated too, and I don't know what to do or feel."

I sighed and rotated my neck to try to remove the tension. "Well, think what you would've felt like if he'd never warned us, and you had run across mother's diary by accident. I think that would have been more confusing and painful. Remember, he thought Mom would still be alive to guide us. In which case, we might have never read the diary. She might have destroyed it. I think that we should think about this rationally. There are too many questions, and not enough answers."

Alex's eyes narrowed. She looked angry. "Tell me! Don't you think I know that? Let me list them. Item one, our father, with some weird letter, tells us that the wonderful woman we thought was our mother turns out to be our stepmother. Item two, – oh, by the way, your lives are in danger from an unknown person or persons – could be shadows – whoopee. Item three, you're rich, in fact, you're filthy rich. Item four, your mother will tell you what it's all about, uh–oh, oops, I accidentally killed her. Last item, incidentally, beware of strangers trespassing on the farm. Have I got it right? Did I leave anything out?"

She became almost hysterical. "Rational, what's rational about any of this? Another thing, what's this about us being powerful? I don't feel very damn powerful right now."

"You forgot about the medallion you're wearing."

She stared at me in disbelief. "How can you be so freaking calm? You're pissing me off. You should be screaming. – You should be ranting. – You should be raving. Oh shit, what's the use."

She dropped back to the couch.

She was wrong. I was anything but calm. I didn't want her to see the monster that lurked beneath me. I had unleashed that demon in Iraq. I would not do it here, not where it could frighten her.

After a long, uneasy silence, we parted and went our separate ways, Alex to her bedroom, me to the study.

I tried to do some work on the new computer. It was useless. My mind continued to dwell on the events of the past few days. I tried to make some sense out of the depressing mood that consumed me. I felt confused and apprehensive, confused as to the meaning of all that'd occurred and fearful that more remained to come.

Before our parents' death, I'd been content with my life. I had a future to look forward to, loving parents, and a close sister to share it.

I'd anticipated having Alex as my roommate, to plan adventures and discuss our hopes and fears, someone to confide in and sympathize when life took a wrong turn.

Now, everything lay in turmoil. I couldn't be certain that tomorrow she wouldn't tell me she was going away, leaving this place, to forget all the pain and sorrow that the memories of the times here would reinforce. I wouldn't blame her. If she left, I would be alone with no family, no one.

Then an idea occurred to me. When we were adolescents, when the changes in our minds and bodies made us confused and particularly susceptible to the opinions and attitudes of our peers; we'd hike through the Cumberland forests and talk about it.

In that way, we managed to cope with the turmoil growing up brought.

This was such a time. Perhaps we could find that peace again.

I resolved to go and find her, to convince her to join me. I went upstairs to her bedroom, and knocked on the door.

"Alex? Alexandra honey, I want to talk."

Her muffled voice came through the door. "Not right now."

"Alex, we've been hurting long enough, let's try to heal."

I could almost feel the anguish in her voice. "Heal? Heal how? I don't think I'll ever be able to feel whole again."

"Remember our place? Our secret place? Remember how it seemed to make the trouble and pain go away? Let's go there. Maybe there's still peace there."

"What? You want to go on a hike?" She paused, her silence prolonged. I heard her stir. She opened the door and smiled through the tears. "I think I'd like that."
Chapter 5

### Love at the Lake

The morning sun peeked over the wooded hills as we drove toward the lake.

Lake Cumberland was one of the largest freshwater lakes in Kentucky. It extended for miles through an old watercourse which had been dammed to create it. All along the shoreline, wooded hills and ridges loomed, creating spectacular views of the shimmering water and meandering shoreline.

Near Jamestown sat Lake Cumberland State Park, which was our destination. I drove along the winding road that led to the park. The thickly wooded forest bordered each side of the road.

"How are you feeling, Sis?" I asked.

"Better, the woods help."

The night hadn't been an easy one. Neither of us had felt like cooking breakfast, so we decided to drive to the park lodge to eat. We'd rummaged through our old hiking gear to find some usable clothing, backpacks and hiking boots. Fortunately, we both kept gear at the farm and it was still in serviceable condition.

The sun lay just over the horizon when we arrived at the lodge.

Parking the car, we walked to the lodge's restaurant.

We sat at a table near the overlook windows, and gazed at the lake. The waters sparkled in the morning sunlight, and we could see the wakes of boats heading out from the marina.

"Still beautiful," I said.

Alex pointed to the marks on the shoreline. "It is. The water's low, though."

I agreed with her. "They're working on the dam. When they finish, it'll fill back up."

We ate in silence, each preoccupied with our own thoughts. After we finished and paid the bill, we walked out to the car, opened the trunk, and loaded up. I'd thought to bring our old walking sticks, and handed Alex hers. "You know where we're going, right?"

"Oh, yes."

Part of the trail wound through old woodlands, small streams, and views of the lake, and parts ran along the highway, camping grounds, and parking areas. Although it was peaceful in the woods, the common areas abounded with campers and picnickers.

Our destination lay along a particular part of the path, one we knew well.

As we walked, we met other hikers along the way, who nodded politely as we passed.

We continued onward, toward the wilder parts of the route.

After a while, the path ascended a high ridge and became more difficult. Only the more energetic hikers walked this part, most stopped at one of the campgrounds or picnic areas.

Along a well-remembered spot, we stopped.

"Do you see anyone?" I asked.

"No."

We left the trail, and headed through the woods, toward the lake.

I remembered when we'd found the spot we always referred to as our 'secret place'.

Years ago, as preadolescents, walking this path, we came upon a sight that, even as adults, still seemed magic. But as impressionable children, we stood transfixed, at the sight of a doe and her two baby fawns, standing in the path, munching on the foliage that bordered it.

The deer seemed totally unafraid. We stood and watched as the beautiful animals consumed the vegetation along the trail.

After a while the doe gave what appeared to be a contemptuous toss of her head as though to dismiss us as any threat, and ambled from the path toward the lake, her two fawns following along behind.

It was against park rules to leave the trail, but as children, right and wrong possessed blurred edges, so we followed through the woods.

This day, to gain the tranquility I sought, I would gladly pay the fine.

Alex and I were dressed in jeans and full-sleeved tops. I had on a blue chambray shirt, and Alex wore a green, long-sleeved, pullover.

Our choice of clothing was no accident, the Kentucky woods were populated with poison ivy and oak, and experience had taught us the wisdom of full clothing.

We moved through the forest, skirting the occasional patch of the noxious weeds, as light-footed as ancient, primitive hunters, careful to leave no evidence of our progress.

Soon, we came to a seemingly impassable line of trees. Young saplings grew alongside old giants so thickly that it appeared there were no gaps.

We knew this to be an illusion. We skirted the trees and moved toward the lake we could see gleaming through the spaces between the trees. At the point at which it seemed impossible to go further, a granite slab appeared upon the forest floor and a space beckoned. Nothing grew upon the slab.

We passed over the slab, and entered our refuge.

Several acts of nature had created the place. Sometime, in the geological past, a section of the granite cliff had given way. It had fallen in successive layers, to create a stair-like pattern. The section of the cliff that moved was in a semicircle, so that the stairs had become like seats.

We looked at the equivalent of the ruins of a Greek amphitheater, with the stage area showing a spectacular view of a large expanse of the lake. Opposite the entrance to the clearing, a spring ran from the face of the cliff and fell into a granite bowl. I knew from prior experience, the water would be cool, crystal-clear, and delicious.

We slipped off our backpacks and set them on one of the layers. Later, we would eat our lunch, but first, we simply gazed at the lake.

When we first discovered the retreat, the deer had led us. After emerging into the clearing, the deer waited for us with her fawns close by her side. She gazed expectantly at us, as though wanting us to comment upon her domain. When we remained speechless, staring in open mouth awe, she had given a toss of her head as though contemptuous of stupid humans, and disappeared with her family.

We never saw her again. Now, as far as we knew, we were the only two people who knew of the clearing.

"You were right, Paris, I feel peace. I love this place."

I looked around. "I know what you mean. I was just thinking of the first time we discovered it. It was so–"

"Magical?" Alex ventured.

I nodded. "Yeah – magical."

"Somehow problems seem to diminish here."

I felt my smile leave. "Yes. Unfortunately, they don't go away."

Alex bit her lip. "No, they don't."

"I'm sorry I said that. Let's just enjoy the silence and the view."

We sat quiet for a while, each lost in our own thoughts.

In the amphitheater, everything felt hushed and still, the crystal music of the spring was the only exception. We couldn't hear the sounds made by the occasional hiker passing by; we wouldn't be interrupted by demands upon our time. We'd left the world behind.

I rose to quench my thirst at the spring. The cold, clear water collected into the bowl before cascading down to the lake. The water tasted just as good as I'd remembered it.

I walked back and sat beside Alex. As I turned around to reach for my backpack, I heard the murmur of voices coming from the entrance to the clearing. I looked at the gap between the trees.

Into the clearing stepped a man and a woman.

Shocked and a little dismayed, I thought, how could anyone trespass upon our private sanctuary?

But the woman fixed my attention. Small, small in every aspect. Each part of her body in perfect proportion. She looked as though a master artisan had created a perfect doll. Her pure black hair gleamed with blue highlights. It lay incredibly thick, curling around her lovely face and cascading in ebony waves down her back. It framed a face that could only be described as glorious. She had perfectly arched eyebrows, almond shaped eyes, which at this time were open wide in surprise, and a generous mouth that had to be the most kissable mouth I'd ever seen. If she wore makeup, it was the most artful job I'd ever witnessed. She stared at me with eyes that were a deep amethyst. I stood mesmerized, trapped as a deer caught in headlights. We stared, all four of us, gazing at each other. We were all speechless. Finally, the woman broke the silence.

"I'm sorry, are we intruding?" Her voice was a warm contralto.

I finally closed my mouth, and hastily said, "no, no, not at all. We were just looking at the view. I was a little surprised. That's all." It sounded weak, but I would say anything to keep her with us.

"We thought that we were the only people who knew about this place," Alex said, staring at the woman's companion.

"As did we," the woman replied.

"This place has lots of room, please join us," I said, but in my thoughts I begged; _please, please don't leave._

The man didn't hesitate. He spoke in a rich baritone voice, "These two look like nice people, Beth. I think we should stay and become acquainted."

His dark eyes glittered as he looked at Alex. He had an accent that sounded like he had spent some time in England. The man had dark hair, nearly coal black. He looked like he might have Middle Eastern ancestry. He had those dark-eyed, handsome features that one might expect on a movie actor.

He was tall and muscular, much taller than the woman. It made me a little nervous. I glanced at Alex. She positively beamed at him.

I turned to look at the woman, and then my hesitation evaporated.

"I think that's an excellent idea," I said. "Please sit, rest, – have something to eat."

The man walked over to Alex, shrugged off his backpack, and sat beside her.

His casual attitude irritated me; what was he trying to do, monopolize every beautiful woman here?

I indicated to the woman that she could sit at the spot I had cleared previously, and I sat beside her, giving her some room between us.

We sat in silence for a while. I glanced over at her as she stared at the lake.

"They seem to be hitting it off well," I said.

"What?" She seemed distracted by some thought.

"I mean your friend. He seems to be very talkative."

"My friend? Oh. He's not – I mean – I suppose I could say that he's my friend, but, that would not be quite accurate. He's my best friend. He's my brother. Your friend seems quite interested in him."

I laughed. I felt a huge feeling of relief and joy. She wasn't a date. She wasn't his. Was she married?

I swallowed the words I wanted to say, and instead, replied, "I hate to sound like a parrot, but that's my best friend. She's my twin sister."

Her beautiful violet eyes widened. "Your sister is very pretty. I should have known. She looks remarkably like you."

"She's not the only pretty woman here ..." I said, fascinated by her.

Then I controlled myself, and remembering my manners, I said politely, and a little formally, "uh – My name is Fox. Paris Fox. The pretty, overzealous girl over there, fawning on your brother, is my twin sister, Alexandra."

"Alexandra, that's an interesting name. My name is Elizabeth, Elizabeth Rowan. The oaf over there, monopolizing your sister, is my brother, Caesar."

"Glad to meet you, Elizabeth."

"Likewise, Paris."

We sat for a while in silence.

"How do you know about this place?"

"It's a strange story."

"I've got time to listen." I waited for her to proceed.

"It happened when we were much younger, several years ago, when we were walking on the trail.

"Suddenly, a deer crashed out of the brush. It was apparent from the size of her abdomen that she was very heavily pregnant. She just stood and stared at us with those big round eyes. We were children and we knew that you weren't supposed to leave the trail, but the doe seemed so friendly. We were fascinated. She moved back into the forest, and we followed her. She led us to this clearing. It was one of the most magical things I have ever experienced.

"We've been coming here ever since that moment. I thought that we were the only people in the world who knew of its existence. It seems that I was wrong." She looked at me as though waiting for a reply.

I couldn't reply. A chill started from the base of my spine, and rippled to the top of my head. I thought, this cannot be a coincidence. The warmth of the feeling was a rush unlike anything I had ever experienced before. It was all I could do to regain control of my mouth.

"That is a strange story, but what I am about to tell you is even stranger." I related the events that led Alex and I to this clearing.

It was Elizabeth's turn to look shocked. "What an incredible coincidence."

"Coincidence? Elizabeth, I'm an engineer. I know statistics. If you roll seven fourteen times in a row, it's not a coincidence; the dice are loaded. I hate to sound a little like an occultist, but maybe it's some freak of nature. – Some force that wanted us to be here. – To be here at this moment. – To meet, and to learn about each other."

She smiled, looking at me. "It is occultist, – but also a little romantic."

That look caused my heart to step into overdrive, so I looked for something to distract me. I glanced over at Alex and Caesar, who were both in animated conversation.

I cleared my throat. "Doesn't it seem to you like they're being very friendly?"

Her eyes grew wide. "It makes you nervous, too?"

I nodded. "Yes. Maybe we should invite them to join us."

"That's a good idea."

We called over to the two of them. Alex rushed over and sat beside Elizabeth, while Caesar rose easily and smiled at me as he ambled over to sit beside Alex.

"Paris, Caesar was just telling me how he found the clearing. It's so weird."

"Yes, we were discussing it."

Alex looked about to burst with excitement. "Don't you guys feel it? It's as if we were all meant to be here. We were all meant to meet each other. I feel it. It gives me chills. Don't you think it's wonderful?"

I kept my thoughts controlled. I realized that I could start babbling like Alex if I let myself go. I had to admit to myself, that it felt good, as though some glow surrounded the four of us. It could just be wishful thinking.

We didn't know who these people were, and I imagined they were thinking the same thoughts about us. However, something felt right, something fundamentally clean about the four of us together in the clearing, at this time. I just hoped that the others would feel the way I did.

I looked at Caesar. His gaze was frozen on Alexandra. He watched every move she made, as though fascinated. It was annoying, but I ignored it. I looked at Elizabeth, and forgot everyone and everything else. "Yes, it does feel right. It's weird, but it feels right."

We sat for a while gazing at the lake.

Elizabeth broke the quiet and looked at me. "You said your name is Fox."

I nodded, curious as to why she asked. "Yes."

"We had a local Jamestown couple at the hospital recently who were in a traffic accident. They were named Fox, are you related to them?"

I felt my eyes prickle. "Yes, at least I was, they were my parents."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

I swallowed. "That's Okay. I mean – I've got to learn to talk about it, without..."

She placed her hand on my arm. Her touch tingled. "I understand."

I didn't want her to remove it. "You said you were at the hospital. Do you work there?"

Elizabeth placed her elbows on her knees and cradled her cheeks in her hands. "I'm a doctor – MD. I specialize in emergency medicine."

"I'm an engineer. I work for a company in Cincinnati, but I live in Covington."

"You're a long way from home."

"I'm on bereavement leave until I can get my parents' affairs settled, and then I've got to move Alexandra to my apartment. She is going to attend the University of Cincinnati for her MBA. We're staying at my parents' farm. It's outside Jamestown. Do you live around here?"

She nodded. "My brother and I live with our father several miles from Jamestown."

"Just your father?" I asked.

"Yes, our mother passed away," she replied.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

Elizabeth shrugged. "It was a long time ago. The pain becomes manageable after time, as it will for you."

"Thank you, that's good to know. – How long have you lived in Jamestown?" I asked.

Elizabeth turned her gaze back to the lake. "Since our mother died. Our father emigrated from England when we were young. He possesses extensive knowledge of Europe and the Middle-East, so he was employed by the State Department as a consultant in foreign affairs. He traveled widely and took us with him when he could, but mainly we stayed in Kentucky. We had live-in tutors who cared for us at home when he traveled."

I kept my eyes focused on her. "That explains why I didn't know about you from school. We – Alex and I, both attended public schools in Jamestown. We grew up here."

She redirected her gaze back to me and sat up. "So did we, but father believed in home schooling. I think it was his English background. He was very distrustful of public schools. He's still living here, retired. In fact, both Caesar and I live with him. We're taking care of him. That is, Caesar is mainly taking care of him. I have a very full schedule at the hospital. I frequently stay at a bed and breakfast in Russell Springs. He's very frail. Uh– our father that is."

I winced when I considered my next question. "I really don't know how to say this, without sounding like a total jerk, so I'll just say it. Your brother doesn't look anything like you, so how..."

"We're both adopted. Mother was unable to have children. The story of how we were adopted is interesting. Maybe later, when we have some time, lots of time, I'll tell you."

My mind seized upon her words. Later, meant that I could see her again. Lots of time, implied an extended conversation. The feeling was wonderful.

She resumed. "Maybe I shouldn't open wounds, but when your parents were brought to the hospital, I was the emergency doctor on call, and I treated them. Would you like to know the circumstances of their passing? I can understand if you don't want to know, but I think you should have the opportunity."

I looked at Alex, who'd been listening. She nodded. "Please. Please tell us."

Elizabeth pressed the fingertips of both hands above the bridge of her nose and rubbed. Then she dropped her hands in her lap and took a deep breath. "When they were brought in –I mean, in the ambulance, I performed triage on the two of them. Your father's injuries were too extensive. It was obvious he would not survive, so I made him as comfortable as possible and turned to your mother. There was a chance I could save her, so I began emergency treatment. She seemed to have a strong will to live, and I had hope.

"Usually, I try to keep emotion divorced from my job, but in this case, I was determined to save this patient. I don't know why. I worked furiously, as fast as I could and she was responding, but then your father passed, and at that instant, I felt her will leave.

"She was still unconscious, but she smiled, and then she died. I tried, I tried hard, but there was nothing I could do. The experience was traumatic.

"I've lost patients before, but somehow this was different. It affected me for the week afterward. It was Caesar, who suggested that we take a hike to our secret place, only to find you here. As soon as I met you, both of you, I felt at peace." Her face held a look of wonder.

There was total silence. Tears were running down both my cheeks and Alexandra's. My heart thundered. I wanted to take this precious woman in my arms and engulf her. Instead, I cleared my throat and said, "Thank you. Thank you more than you could ever believe."

"Yes, thank you, Elizabeth. That means a lot to us," Alex said. "You're an incredibly caring woman."

That should have been my line, I thought. I want to call her courageous, caring, and beautiful. I want to find an English dictionary and list the words I could say to her, but I couldn't without frightening her, so I kept my silence. With enormous effort, I controlled myself.

It was then I realized the truth. My emotions were on hyper drive. Although I struggled to control it, a commanding part of by mind shouted _you'll never experience anything like this again in a lifetime, take advantage of it_. Another part whimpered, _you know this is irrational, don't you? Don't be foolish_.

Yes, it was wrong, it didn't make sense, but I was hopelessly, desperately, and irrevocably in love with this woman. _Don't let her get away, you idiot,_ my brain protested. It was nuts. Love at first sight was bullshit. There wasn't any such thing. So how could I feel this way?

But looking at that lovely, wondrous face, I realized that I was looking at the person who could shape and complete my life. It wasn't a knowing as much as a feeling. The emptiness I'd felt had vanished, replaced by longing.

The rush was glorious.

Maybe, if I rationed out the words a little at a time, she would eventually know how much I desired her, how much I cared for her, how much I wanted her. And maybe the time would come when I would not use words, I would use lips and hands and eyes to convey the feelings that any words, no matter how fancy, could not express.

Until that time, I knew that I would do anything to be near her.

Caesar finally spoke. "Why don't we leave, and continue along the trail? It's getting late."

I cast the crazy, dizzy feelings from my mind. I didn't want to break the mood in the clearing, but I realized that he was right. "Caesar's got a point, folks. Let's continue our conversation along the path."

Reluctantly, we gathered our belongings. We made sure that there was no evidence of our presence in the clearing, and then exited the way we came, each trailing behind the other in order to disguise our passage.

We resumed our walk along the trail. I talked to Elizabeth while a vivacious Alex conversed with Caesar. I held back and let Alex and Caesar walk ahead. I resumed walking when Elizabeth reached me.

"You're a fascinating woman, Elizabeth. It takes a good mind to become a doctor." There, I thought, I'd managed some of those words, including the word 'mind' I mentally congratulated myself. – _Only about a thousand to go_.

"Call me Beth, everyone at the hospital does. Elizabeth is a mouthful."

"Okay, Beth, but Elizabeth's a beautiful name."

"Why did your parents' name you Paris?"

I turned my attention to the path ahead "Our father had a doctorate in History. He's a classicist and he picked our names from antiquity. We grew up listening to his stories. In fact, Alex has a degree in history.

"Me, I liked to take apart things to see how they work, so I studied engineering. I served six years in the Army, and I spent some time in Iraq. I was an executive officer in an engineering company when I left the Army, and I've been working for a large construction company in Cincinnati for about a year." I turned around and walked backwards. "How about you? You seem very young for a full-fledged doctor."

She laughed. "I'm older than I look, although it's hard to say. It has to do with the circumstances of our adoption. You see, neither Caesar nor I know when we were born. Our father celebrates our birthdays together. It's the day he found us. We don't know much about our history, although father tried to find some clues, so we just started year one with the year he adopted us. As near as we can determine, we're both about twenty-six years old, give or take a year."

"Both Alex and I are twenty-six. You mentioned there's a story behind your adoption. Do you care to relate it?" We were coming to the end of the trail. It wound through the park, returned to the entrance, and emptied into the lot where we parked. I didn't want our conversation to end. She was incredibly easy to talk to.

"Perhaps another time. It's a long story. There will be another time, won't there?"

"You can count on it." Was she kidding? An Abrams, M-1 tank couldn't keep me away from her.

"Do you have a car?" _Please, let her say no, or make it break down or something, anything to spend some more time with her._

"Caesar and I drove together. That's our car over there." She pointed to a shiny sleek Jaguar.

_I should have known_ , I mentally whimpered. _I can't even impress her with my Camaro_. "Nice car."

She shrugged. "It's fun to drive. So – until we meet again?" She extended her hand.

I took it, and damn near couldn't let it go. On impulse, I raised her palm to my lips, and lightly kissed it, staring into her eyes. "Soon."

Her eyes widened. I released her hand and it fell to her side. She blinked and shook her head, then continued to her car.

Caesar still talked to Alex, but when he saw Elizabeth open the door, he too, headed for the Jag. He nodded to me. "Nice to have met you, Paris. It's been a pleasant day."

I looked at him and extended my hand. "You're right. It has been a good day. Take care, Caesar. Have a safe drive home."

After exchanging handshakes, he opened the door, dropped his backpack in the back of the Jag, and got in the passenger seat. They waved goodbye, and the car slowly rolled out of the parking lot. Alex and I both stood there, watching them go, as the car disappeared onto the highway.

We walked in silence to my car, put our backpacks in the trunk, and settled into the seats. I started the car, and drove back toward home.

As I drove, my mind seethed with wild imaginings. I imagined Elizabeth and I married, years from now. I imagined how it would be to live with her. I had just imagined the type of shoes we would pick out for the baby, when Alex interrupted me.

"Paris, we've got to talk."

"Talk? Talk about what?"

"You know about what."

I didn't answer.

"Okay, so you're going to make this hard. I can live with that. But I'm going to wear you down eventually, and you know it, so why don't we just cut past the bullshit, and have an honest conversation?"

I winced. Alex knew me like I knew her. She'd seen how I reacted to Elizabeth, but I was in an emotional turmoil and resisted. I shrugged. "So what's up with Caesar?"

She laughed. "Here I meet the man of my dreams, the man I fully intend to spend the rest of my life with, and my dear, precious, brother says, 'what's up'. Paris, get serious."

I did not want to have this talk. I wanted to avoid it and hope that it would go away; but it was inevitable. If Alex felt the same about Caesar as I did about Elizabeth, then my sister was as well and truly committed as I was. "Okay, I give up. Lay in on me."

"It's crazy, Paris. From the moment I met him, I knew. I didn't have any doubts. There wasn't any hesitation. – I just knew. My mind knew, and my body certainly knew, that this man, this person would be my life's partner, my companion, my lover. How weird is that?"

_No weirder that what I felt_. "We're not in the best of emotional circumstances, Alex. We're both vulnerable, uncertain of our futures, and fantasies about happy ever after can affect our judgment."

She grew quiet for a moment, and then her eyes widened. "So, you felt it too. I should have known. – The way that you were fawning over Elizabeth."

"I wasn't fawning over her. I just happen to respect her. She has a good mind."

Alex laughed. "Ooh, good one, Brother dear. Did you use it on her?"

"I may have mentioned it."

Her eyes danced. "You're as sunk as I am. The question is how do we convince these two that they should spend the rest of their lives with us?"

"Alexandra, you're scheming. You don't have to get coy with Caesar. It's obvious he worships the ground you walk on."

Her eyes widened and her mouth opened. "What? How can you say that? He was a perfect gentleman, really, really old school. It was maddening. Here, I wanted to ravish him on the spot, and he gives me those serious bedroom eyes and polite conversation. It was – stimulating. But you, you – what was with the hand kissing?" she asked. "Don't lie, I saw it. If you weren't my brother and it had been me staring into those sexy eyes of yours when you kissed my hand, I'd have been a quivering bowl full of Jell-O."

I smirked. _Liked that one did you?_ But I kept my thoughts to myself. "So, how do you think Elizabeth felt about the afternoon?"

She stared at me a moment, and then she started laughing. "Damn. It gets better. Big Brother's got the hots for Elizabeth. I love it!" She giggled. "We're both, doomed, doomed, doomed!"
Chapter 6

### Dancing Shadows

We arrived back at the house in time for dinner. Alex had gushed all the way home about Caesar. I'd said as little about Elizabeth as possible. She still talked as we entered the front door.

"Did I tell you he was ex-military? He was a Seal."

"Yes, about three miles ago."

"You two should have a lot in common."

I sighed. "Alex, Seals are Navy. I was Army Rangers. I doubt we'll find much to talk about."

"Whatever. He's not a college graduate, but he's very intelligent. He said he'd been frail as a child, and he joined the service to build up his physique. He's a hunk."

I felt happy she bubbled with excitement, because she hadn't been this enthusiastic in weeks, but I tired of hearing about Caesar, so I tried to change the subject.

"We need to cook some dinner, get some takeout, or hit a restaurant. I'm hungry," I said.

"How can you think about food at a time like this?"

"Easy. My stomach's growling. We need to eat because I plan to work on the drawing changes for the company tonight so that I'll be free to work with Tom Bradley tomorrow." My last comment finally brought her to an abrupt silence.

"Oh damn. Tom. I completely forgot about Tom." She looked worried.

"Oops. Okay Alex, out with it, what about Tom?"

"Well, I sorta promised him that I would go with him to one of his band's concerts."

I frowned. "Alex, Tom's a good friend of mine, and he's a hell of a nice guy. I know he likes you. So, what are you going to do?"

She looked down at the carpet. "Don't worry Paris. I know how to handle this. I'm not going to back out, but I am going to let him know that I'm taken."

"Taken? You've never been 'taken' in your life. Anyhow, how can you be 'taken' when you don't even know that the one you want to be 'taken' by wants to take you?"

Her head snapped up and Alex stared at me like I'd lost my mind. "I hate it when you're trying to be logical, you screw things all up. Are you saying that I don't have a chance with Caesar?" She looked ready to cry.

_Fat chance, I saw the way he looked at you. Like a drowning man who'd just been thrown a life preserver_. I shook my head. "No, I mean yes, I mean, from what I saw, you'll be lucky to beat him off with a baseball bat. But I am saying that you should be cautious and not set your hopes too high. With all we've been through, you're too emotionally fragile. A disappointment could be devastating."

She put her hands on her hips and glared at me. "Are you just talking about me, Paris, or are you thinking about yourself? I think what you're trying to say is that we are fragile, and we could be hurt. I think you've got it bad too, and you won't admit it."

I avoided her gaze. "Don't be ridiculous. How could I be in love with someone I just met? Love at first sight is just for novels."

"I believed that too," she replied, "but not after today."

I didn't know what to say, so I kept my silence. After thinking for a few moments, I said, "I also think that we're dancing about another uncomfortable part of what happened today. It almost seems that something is pushing us toward some particular goal.

"Alex, a lot of weird stuff has happened to us in the past two weeks," I said, "and this definitely belongs in the weird phenomenon category. But this time, the weirdness gets stranger. If someone or something caused this chance meeting, it had to be set in motion years in advance. The thought makes me a little sick. I want what happened today to be real, to be clean and natural. The thought that someone or something would be manipulating us, is too awful to imagine." I headed to the study.

Alex followed me. "That's horrible, Paris. Drop it. I don't believe it for a moment. I can't believe it." Her tone became belligerent. "But so? So what if something caused it? Something or someone causes everything in this world. In my opinion, if there is a cause, it's done us a favor."

I stopped at the doorway and laughed, "Yeah, I guess you could be right."

She smiled. "Tell you what, I'll make supper, and you start working on the company stuff, okay?"

"Okay. Thanks, Alex."

"Hah. I'll get even – you get to cook tomorrow night."

I went into the study and powered up the workstation. The drawing changes that my boss wanted were intricate and it promised to be a long session.

Alex returned some time later and brought the food. She sat down at the desktop computer and began to browse the Net.

"What are you doing, Sis?"

"Oh, I haven't looked at my emails for a while, and I thought I'd do some research. I won't disturb you will I?"

"You won't disturb me any more than my own thoughts have. It's good to have your company."

I wasn't exaggerating. My mind churned with thoughts of Elizabeth in the clearing, walking along the path, smiling up at me. I couldn't get her out of my mind long enough to concentrate on my work. Every time I thought of her, the warm feelings welled up again. "Damn, I wish I'd thought to get her phone number." I muttered.

"What was that?" Alex said.

"Nothing."

"I heard that. Unlike you, Brother dear, I was prepared. Caesar gave me the phone number." She grinned and waited my reply.

In my mind, I cringed. I was sunk. If she had the phone number, I'd use it in a heartbeat. "Are you planning on calling Caesar?" I asked casually.

"Are you kidding? I was planning on that about an hour ago. I was just waiting for a decent amount of time, so as not to appear too eager. Time's up."

"Do you think..?"

"Yeah, if she's there, I'll tell Caesar you want to talk to her."

She dialed the number, and we waited. After a moment, I saw the warm smile spread across her face, and I knew she had connected. "I'll be in the living room."

I left the study and went to the living room. I plopped down on the easy chair, sat, and brooded. What if she's not there? What if she doesn't want to talk? I waited and waited, until I thought I would burst with anxiety. I waited some more, until Alex walked into the living room carrying the cordless handset.

"Paris, Elizabeth's on the phone."

Relief consumed me. I grabbed the phone. "Hi Beth." My voice came out sounding a little strangled.

"Hello Paris." That warm voice made a melting feeling start in my middle. I could feel it spreading all over my body. "What's up?"

I was at a loss as to what to say. Should I tell her that I only called to hear her voice one more time? "I was hoping to reach you before you headed back to the hospital. I know we've only just met, but I have some business in Russell Springs, Monday," – _liar_ – "and I thought we might meet for lunch or something. You still haven't told me the story about how you were adopted. You're a very interesting woman, and I hoped we might get to know each other better over lunch." I waited, tensed.

"Lunch? – Lunch. All right. I think I could grab a bite with you. Where shall we meet?"

I frantically thought. I didn't have a clue as to where to take her in Russell Springs. "I'll drop over to the hospital, and you can decide. That way we'll be working on your timetable. I know that your time's precious," – _just as you are_ – "so I won't be a burden."

She laughed. "Paris, I don't consider you a burden."

Her words started that liquid feeling inside. "So, is it a date?"

"Lunch, a date?" She laughed again. The sound was like music. "Okay, lunch."

"We could talk about other things then." – _Like lots of dates_.

"It's good you called just now, I was just getting ready to leave for the hospital. I'll see you Monday."

"Count on it."

"Bye, Paris."

"Have a safe trip, Beth." She disconnected.

"You are in trouble, Big Brother, big trouble," Alex said. "I sympathize. Right now, I know the feeling."

I didn't reply. I was too suffused with joy. _Monday. I get to see her again on Monday_.

I returned to my task, much happier than when I started. Alex resumed her seat at the desktop computer, and returned to her browsing. We worked until it was dark outside, and the crickets were singing. She rose from her computer, and started massaging her legs.

"Ouch. I sat too long."

"I know the feeling. My legs are getting numb too. It's an occupational hazard, I guess."

"It's late. I think I'll turn in." She started to leave, but turned back. "Paris, do you think the prowlers will be back?"

"No. The cops are patrolling the farm, and they made their presence known to any would-be burglar. If I was a robber, I'd stay away from this house."

"But what if they're counting on that? What if they are waiting until the excitement dies down to rob us?"

I looked at the darkened window. "If it'll make you feel better, I'll make sure the doors and windows are locked."

She nibbled her lower lip. "Could you? I know how I sound, but I have a bad feeling."

"Consider it done."

Her worried mood made me uneasy. I checked all of the doors and windows on the ground floor to make sure they were locked and headed back to the study. Upon entering the room, I remembered about the gun safe.

I took the key from the desk and proceeded down to the basement, opened the safe, and removed the Mossberg. I checked the action. Thinking for a moment, I loaded two rounds of birdshot followed by four rounds of double-ought buckshot.

For a moment, I considered jacking a round to the chamber, but thought better of it and shoved another six rounds into my pockets.

I checked the safety on the shotgun, and returned to the main floor, carrying the gun. If anyone approached the farm tonight, they would find me armed. Ascending the stairs to the second floor, I checked the windows in each of the rooms with the sole exception of Alex's room, because I didn't want to make her nervous about the gun. Instead, I called through the closed door to remind her to lock her window.

In the Army, I was trained in house-to-house warfare, so I knew that windows and doors would not stop a determined aggressor, but the noise of their entry would give me enough time to meet them with some firepower in hand.

I went back to the study, laid the gun on the desk, and resumed my work. I worked for a few more hours, and then checked the time. It was about twelve-thirty, so I saved my work and shut down the computer. I decided to call it a night, but planned to check the perimeter first.

Taking the cordless handset with me, I picked up the shotgun.

I turned off all of the lights on the ground floor and went upstairs to my bedroom. Turning on my bedroom lights, I went back downstairs to the darkened kitchen and waited in the room for a few moments to allow my night vision to acclimate.

Once I could see, I unlocked and opened the rear door. I crept out of the rear of the house and crouched behind the shrubs. Scanning the rear of the house out of the corners of my eye, I looked for movement or human shaped outlines. There was nothing. Proceeding at a crouch, the shotgun held at port arms, I moved clockwise, around the corner of the house.

I paused, scanning the yard, again, nothing.

The front porch light was on and I didn't want to destroy my night vision, so I reversed direction and went around to the other side of the house. No one was there.

I congratulated myself on having analyzed the prowlers correctly. They had been warned away. No robber would prowl the front of the house with the front porch light illuminating his face, and since there wasn't anyone around the sides of the house, it was apparent the sides and rear of the house were clear.

On a whim, I decided to survey the front. I reasoned that the light shining outward would provide good cover, because it would impair the other guy's night vision and hide my silhouette. Rounding the corner, I peered out toward the front of the house.

There, beyond the edge of the lawn, under the trees, stood two figures. The fringe of the porch light illuminated them as it faded into the trees. They were clearly visible.

I rocked back on my heels, astonished, and remained still.

I pondered the implications of their presence and their arrogance in flaunting it. I knew that criminals were dumb, but either these two were the stupidest criminals in Kentucky, or they were so sure of themselves that they could afford to advertise.

As a rule burglars were canny if not very intelligent, and they worked concealed. They would never behave like these people. A break-in armed robber would have looked around for an easier target after we'd called the police the first time. These people were something different, something unpredictable, and that shook me. I decided to wait and observe their actions before committing to the use of the shotgun.

They stood like statues while they focused on the house. Periodically, one would rouse from his concentration, and execute a disjointed, funny little dance, almost like a primitive witchdoctor executing an arcane ritual. The dance would grow in intensity, until the dancer fell down in exhaustion.

I observed this behavior for a while, wondering what in the hell they thought they were doing.

Gradually, a pattern emerged. It looked as though their weird dance-act focused at the building, and it really wasn't a dance. It looked like their bodies were vibrating with the energy that they put into their efforts, as though they were trying to attack the house from a distance, by dancing it down.

I'd seen enough. The shotgun was no longer an option. Using deadly force on people, who were dancing on your front lawn, would be considered by the law as manslaughter.

Shooting unarmed people caused a lot of raised eyebrows and potential jail time. At the most, these people were guilty of trespassing and disturbing the peace. This was a job for the cops, not me. I dialed 911, and moved to the rear of the house in time to answer the call when it connected.

"Jamestown police dispatch. How may I help you?"

"This is Paris Fox, out on Route Ninety Two. I'm calling about some trespassers on my property."

"Trespassers? Trespassers at one o'clock in the morning? Wait a moment. Mister Fox? Okay, I've got it. You called about prowlers on the day before yesterday, right?"

"Yes, I can't be sure, but I think they're back again. But they aren't doing anything. At least I don't think they're doing anything. Their behavior is a little weird."

"Can you define weird?"

"I know it sounds crazy, but they're dancing around at the front of my property."

"Dancing? Are they doing anything threatening? Are they approaching the house?"

"No, but their dancing looks bizarre. Like some sort of religious cult or something. Is Bob Patterson on duty?"

"No, I'm dispatching Officer Pike. He'll check the property. Please remain inside. Wait until he calls at the door."

"Okay, I'll be in the front living room."

I realized that I had better get back inside, so I entered through the kitchen, checked the safety on the shotgun, and laid it on the kitchen counter.

I walked through the house to the living room, and being careful not to betray my presence, peeked through the living room window. The two prowlers were still there, still performing their jerky dance.

It wasn't long before I saw the silhouette of a Jamestown patrol car roll toward the house. Smart, I thought, no lights, no siren; he plans to catch them in the act.

The officer cautiously emerged from the car. I could see him scan the area. After a moment, a powerful flashlight beam erupted from his position. He swept it across the trees, briefly illuminating the two figures standing beneath the trees. Their dance ceased. They stood as still as two statues. I could clearly see that the figures were a man and a woman.

The beam of the flashlight paused, and then continued scanning the remainder of the front of the house. The cop's behavior puzzled me. The prowlers were easy to spot. What was he waiting for?

He scanned the flashlight through the area several times, catching the couple in its beam more than once. The flashlight never stopped as he scanned it back and forth. Was he blind?

He walked around the front of the house, with the flashlight leading the way toward the rear. I saw the light disappear around the corner. The two figures in the front yard never moved.

I felt confused, and a little afraid. Either the cop didn't see them, or he was deliberately ignoring them. Either way, it was going to be trouble. I thought furiously about my course of action. If the cop couldn't see them, then there was something about the prowlers that defied logic. What could have prevented him from seeing them?

If he was in collusion with them, we were in deep trouble. If he couldn't see them, then we were in trouble of a different kind. Either way, I had to play this cautiously.

The light returned around the corner of the house, followed by Officer Pike. He swept the flashlight across the front yard once again, pausing briefly at the two figures near the trees, and switched it off. He walked up to the front door, and knocked on it.

"Police Officer Pike. Open up." I decided to act like a panicked citizen.

I jerked open the door. "Thank God you're here. Did you catch them?"

"Calm down. Are you Paris Fox?"

"Yes."

"Mister Fox, could you produce some identification?" My estimation of Officer Pike's abilities inched up a notch. He was thorough.

I fished in my back pocket for my wallet, while eying the still figures in the front yard. Pike's gaze never left my face. I ratcheted my opinion up still another notch. Good cop, I thought, not likely to miss them.

Pike studied my driver's license, and he compared it to my face. "Thank you, Mister Fox. May I come in?"

"Certainly. Let me get the lights."

He looked around the living room. "Do you mind if I check the rest of the house?"

"Not at all."

"Wait here please."

While he checked, I thought about what I'd seen. Pike was young, younger than me, and most likely, ex-military. He was competent. He was not likely to be working with the people who were still standing in the front yard, so just what the hell was going on around here?

One explanation loomed unpleasantly simple. I was hallucinating. I'd never hallucinated in my life, but there was always a first time for everything.

What evidence did I have to prove that these people really existed? Alex had not seen them. She'd accepted my word. My spirits sank low. I might need a doctor. A brief thought of Doctor Elizabeth flashed through my mind, but I mentally cringed that she might think I was crazy.

Officer Pike walked back into the living room. "The house is clear. There's no one here. Is your sister upstairs?"

"Yes, she's asleep."

"I saw a shotgun lying on the kitchen counter. Is it yours?

"Yes, that is, it was my father's."

"You need a license if you carry a concealed weapon."

"The shotgun's not concealed, but I'll check into it."

"You do that. I'll make an incident report, and get back to my patrol. Good night."

"Thank you, Officer Pike. I'll be sure to mention to Chief Cunningham how much I admire the professionalism of the Jamestown Police force." There, I thought; it won't hurt to remind him that I have friends in high places. The truth was, I truly believed it. They were good.

"Thank you. Good night."

I stood at the door and watched him go. All the while, the two motionless figures never twitched.

How do they do that, I thought? Normal humans can't hold completely still that long. It must be a hallucination. As soon as I closed the front door, I heard the patter of bare feet on the stairs. I turned to find Alex peeking around the corner of the living room entry way.

"Did the cop arrest them?"

I stared at her in open mouth amazement. "You can see them?"

"Of course. I was watching from my bedroom. What's he doing? Why are they still there?"

I looked outside. Not only were they still there, but they had resumed their stupid dance. I turned back to Alex. "This whole thing is hard to believe, Sis, but the cop couldn't see them."

"What do you mean he couldn't see them? I saw the flashlight beam. They were caught in it, plain as the day. He couldn't possibly not see them. What kind of morons are they hiring for the Jamestown Police?"

I held out a hand as if to fend her off. "Pike's not a moron, Alex. In fact, he's a very good police officer. He just didn't see them."

Alex looked at me like I'd lost my mind. "What? What do you mean?" She shook her head. "No. No, that's not possible. He had to have seen them. Only a blind man couldn't see them."

"That's true, unless they were making him not see them. Did you notice how still they were after he drove up? As though they didn't want to make a sound." I sat in the armchair and rubbed my face with my hands. "I think we've been stuck with a new problem. A problem we're not equipped to handle."

"What kind of human can make people not see them?" Alex asked. "Unless...," her eyes lit up. "Remember those web sites? The ones about the shadow people? It mentioned something about not being able to see them." She paced the living room. "But those were just a lot of nut cases mouthing off. There's no such thing as shadow people." She stopped. "Anyway, Brother dear, if they're shadow people, how come we can see them? Are we something special? I've got a good idea. Why don't you just take the shotgun out there and shoot them?"

I laughed. "That only works in the movies, Alex. In real life, you can't just shoot anyone you want. You have to be able to prove that you feared your life was in peril. At this point, they are only trespassing. It's not a shooting offense. – But that does give me an idea. Put on some clothes and tennis shoes. We're going bird hunting."

"Bird hunting at one o'clock in the morning? Who do you think you're kidding?" She observed the look that I gave her and hesitated. "Okay, I'll hop to it." She ran up the stairs.

While she dressed, I went back to the basement and opened the gun case. Ejecting the six rounds in the shotgun, I replaced all six with birdshot. I kept the buckshot rounds in my pocket, and removed the AR-15 rifle. I checked one of the magazines to make sure it was empty, and slipped the empty magazine into the receiver of the rifle, then I locked the safe and returned to the living room.

When Alex rejoined me, I got right to work. "I want you to carry this." I handed her the AR-15. "Don't worry, there's no ammunition in it, but they won't know that. Put it in your arms like this," I arranged the rifle at port arms, and tucked her arm over the stock in the proper position. "Now, when we go out there, I want you to look nervous and scan your eyes from right to left and back, as we walk out toward them."

"I won't have to look nervous, Paris. I'm scared shitless."

"Don't worry, if it doesn't work, we'll just retreat back to the house and think of something else.

"Now, when I start walking forward, you wait until I'm about ten paces in front of you, and then you step off and walk on my five o'clock position about ten paces back, and to my right. Think you can remember that?"

"Yes, I step off when you're ten paces ahead, and stay at your five o'clock, keeping ten paces to your right." She looked frightened.

"Correct, but don't forget to scan, and hold the rifle like I showed you. Oh and one other thing. If I yell 'drop'. I want you to hit the ground and hug it. Do not get up until I tell you. This is very important. Can you remember?"

"Y – Yes." Her teeth were slightly chattering.

"Ready?" I opened the front door and walked out into the yard.

I made sure the shotgun's safety was on and lifted the weapon to port arms then stepped off from the porch, straight toward the dancers.

As I moved forward, I listened for Alex's footsteps. I hoped she was following the script, but I never looked back.

I kept walking forward, looking straight at them.

They had stopped their dance and held still with a half smile, almost like a smirk. I kept walking, getting closer, until I was about thirty paces away.

I looked them over. The male was a little shorter than me. The female was older, about fifty as much as I could tell, with graying hair and a little overweight.

"Okay, here's how it's going to work," I said in my loud command voice. "I don't know how you were able to fool the cop, but we have no difficulty seeing you. You're going to leave this property, and you're not going to come back."

They stood still, with that same arrogant smile.

"I can see that you may need persuasion. Well, I'm here to provide it. This shotgun is loaded with birdshot. At least I think it's loaded with birdshot, in the excitement I may have made a mistake. It's a special kind of shot that has a wide dispersion," That was a lie; there was no birdshot like that. I was gambling on the fact that they wouldn't know it.

"It won't kill you, but you'll be picking lead pellets out of your hide for the next month." That was also a lie; the shot could take off an arm. I wouldn't shoot, unless I had no other choice, but then I would shoot to incapacitate and accept the consequences, but they didn't know that.

"I'm going to advance until I am five paces from you, and if you don't leave, then I'm going to shoot you. I plan to aim for your legs, but I could miss, and hit something that you may not want to lose. The choice is yours."

I started walking forward. I checked the safety and deliberately let them see me arm the weapon. I brought the shotgun up to my shoulder and sighted down on the female. I jacked a round into the chamber. The clack-clack of the shotgun was loud in the night as I advanced slowly toward them, counting off the paces.

Their smile was gone. They glanced over to my right and then nervously looked back at me. As I advanced closer, I deliberately lowered the shotgun barrel so that it was aimed at their legs and lower waist.

When I'd progressed to about six paces, the female broke. She turned and hurried off into the night.

I swung the shotgun to cover the male and continued forward. After I advanced two more paces. He retreated, but he didn't run. He continued to backtrack and faded away in the night.

Now, I had a different problem. I couldn't follow them without cutting myself off from my support base and risk being encircled. I paused for a moment, and considered my options.

I lowered the shotgun to port arms, and set the safety. I kept my eyes focused forward on the dark, and called loudly back to Alex. "You stay here in the range of the porch light. I'm going to try and cut them off and take a shot."

I moved back and forth just out of range of the front porch light and made plenty of noise as I thrashed around, breaking dead branches just to create some sound.

When I'd judged that sufficient time had passed, I returned to Alex.

She was still standing there with the rifle clutched in her hands. She visibly shook, with a wild look in her eyes.

I knew that look. I'd seen it often enough in the faces of the men I had commanded in Iraq, when the tension was so high you nearly drowned in it. She needed to come down from the rush. I carefully grounded the shotgun, and gently removed the rifle from her hands.

"It's okay, Alex, they're gone."

She looked at me, her eyes wide and staring. I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her. I held her like that for a while. "Let's go back inside."

She didn't move, so I guided her with my hand to her back, and she started toward the house.

I picked up both weapons and cradled them in a shotgun-carry as we walked to the front porch. Alex just stood near the front door, so I grounded the weapons and opened the door.

I led her into the living room to the couch, where she collapsed and then I went back outside, picked up the guns, and brought them in. She still huddled on the couch, so I went over, sat down and moved her up from the seat to hold her. She still trembled, so I held her until the shaking stopped.

"I was so afraid," she said. "I didn't know what to do. If they hadn't left..."

"It's over, hon, you need to calm down."

"I think I'm gonna be sick." She leaped from the couch and fled out of the living room.

I followed, and heard the sounds of retching coming from the kitchen. Knowing what was happening, I hurried over to the sink to support her as she heaved her dinner down the drain. She leaned over the sink, crying, as spasms wracked her body. Her sobs eventually subsided. She splashed water from the faucet on her face and dried it on the kitchen towel.

"What happened to me, Paris?"

"It's what happened to most newbie's in Iraq when they encountered their first firefight. The adrenalin starts pumping, and your body reacts to it. The tension adds to it, and your body has to get rid of it. You did good. The newbie grunts in my squad were trained for it, but they still had to get over it like you did. You had to face it cold. Even then, you're never really prepared for the terror. It's something you learn to cope with."

"Is this what Iraq was like?"

"Sometimes."

She remained silent for a moment. "You know what really scared me?'

I waited.

"You. – You were really scary. I thought you were really going to shoot those people."

"That's what I wanted them to think. In Iraq, I learned that attitude could prevent unnecessary deaths. If you can convince your opponent that he is facing a cold blooded killer, who will kill him without hesitation, he'll back down, saving you the necessity of violence."

"Then you weren't going to shoot them?"

I shook my head. "Not true. If the situation had required it, I'd have fired without blinking."

Alex hugged herself. "I'm confused. Part of my problem is that I was so scared, I wanted to shoot them."

"I know, that's why your weapon wasn't loaded. Alex, the reason the officers in the army earn the big bucks is because we're required to make those life or death decisions. The enlisted men and women who work for us are trained to fire if we give the command. We must assess the situation and make that call. The troops have to trust that we know what we are doing. That's hard, unless you have confidence in your leaders. Do you have confidence in me?"

"You know I do."

"Good. Then we need to get you to the firing range sometime this week and train you how to handle the arsenal that Dad stored in the basement I also need to teach you how to respond if there is a real threat. But right now, I think you should get some sleep."

She yawned, "I am tired. But what about you? Don't you think you need to go to bed?"

"Being able to maintain without sleep is something they teach us in the service. I'll be all right."

"Paris, you're not in the army anymore. You're a civilian. This isn't a war."

"Sorry, Alex, but right now, it feels like one. You get some sleep. I'll be alright."

She yawned again. "I'm so keyed up. I don't know if I can."

I clasped her shoulder. "Trust me. Pretty soon, you'll be out like a light."

She wore a concerned look. "What about you?'

"I'll be standing guard. Don't worry."

"I _am_ tired." she replied, and her eyelids started to droop.

In a few moments, she was fast asleep on the couch. I shoved a couch pillow under her head and covered her with a handy afghan. She'd sleep the night, courtesy of the stress she'd just experienced.

I locked the front door and turned off the lights, picked up the shotgun and the rifle, and went down to the basement.

I rubbed the rifle down with a rag soaked in gun oil, and stored it in the gun safe, then unloaded the shotgun, checked the action, and reloaded the gun with two shells. The first was buckshot, and the second was birdshot.

I locked the gun safe, and went back to the living room. I stationed myself at the living room window, and waited.

Sooner than I thought they would, I saw them back at the same place, doing the same dance.

_I need Intel. I need to understand why these people are so arrogant and persistent and find out what the hell they think they're doing_.

I moved to the back of the house and on the way, I jacked the first round into the shotgun. Exiting through the back door, I circled around in the dark, toward the front of the house.

Reaching their position from the outside edge of the light from the porch, I crouched, studying them as they danced under the trees.

I decided to take the chance that the sound of the shotgun would go unnoticed by two-thirty in the morning. There was a possibility that a cop cruising by would stop to investigate, but if he did and I was caught; I would pay the fine.

I looked for a convenient tree branch on the trees around them. _There. That one will do_.

I sighted on the branch and clicked off the safety on the shotgun. I squeezed the trigger and was surprised by the boom.

The tree branch swung down, entangling the pair in the branches. It hung by a sliver. The sliver gave way and the branch dropped on the man and woman. By that time, I'd already rushed their position.

I saw the man trying to crawl out of the tree limb on all fours. As he emerged, I kicked him hard in the ass, sending him sprawling face down in the grass. I swung the shotgun to the woman and snarled. "Get down bitch! Face down! Spread your arms and legs!"

The man groaned, but tried to rise. I slammed the shotgun butt into his back. "Don't move jackass. You spread them too."

When they both lay still, I said, "here's how it's gonna work. I ask you questions, you answer, and I'll let you go. If I don't like your attitude, I'll kill you. After all, the cops can't see you, so I'll bury you in the field."

"If you kill us, they'll be able to see us," the woman said.

"Shut up!" the man warned.

I slammed the gun butt into his back again. "Clam it asshole. The lady is speaking."

I waited for more, but she remained silent.

"Okay, I want to know who you are, who sent you here, and what the hell did you think you were doing? Let's start with who you are."

They stayed silent. The only sound was the female crying.

I grabbed the man's back pocket, where the bulge of his wallet was, and ripped the pocket from his pants.

The wallet popped free, and I picked it up. I flipped it open to reveal his driver's license. I tilted it toward the porch light and read the name and address. "Okay, Walter, at 3356 River Side road, I know where you live, so why don't you tell me some more?"

"Keep it asshole. There's more where that came from."

"Walter, are you trying to tell me that this is a false I.D.? That's illegal, Walter."

I turned to the woman. "How about you?"

"It won't make any difference, you won't believe me. I don't have a purse and can't prove it."

"Okay that's strike one. Two more strikes and you're out, as in permanently."

The man still sounded arrogant. "You won't kill us. You can't afford the noise."

"Ever hear of beating someone to death with a shotgun? Or how about bashing your head in, and cutting your throat? Don't mess with me Walter. I'm not in the mood for it. Now, who sent you?"

Silence. "I'm tired of this. I'm about ready to call strike three and forget about two, who sent you?" Again silence. "Okay, strike three, lady, you're first."

"No. Wait. – We can't tell you. I want to tell you, but I can't."

"What do you mean you can't tell me?"

"Shut up!" The man obviously felt the woman revealed too much.

I smacked him on the head with the shotgun. He went still. I turned to the woman. "Talk to me."

"We've had an imprint laid upon our minds. Even if you torture us, we can't tell you. We're physically incapable of speaking about it."

"What's an imprint?"

"I can't tell you."

"I'm getting tired of this bullshit."

"Please. I can't."

"How did you get here?"

"We were brought by car. We were left here with instructions. We were to be picked up in the morning." She talked like a robot.

There is something going on here I don't understand. I need to know what these people are doing here, but I can't kill them in cold blood. I have to get rid of them, so what's next?

I slipped my belt from my pants, and said to the woman, "put this around Walter's hands and tighten it." She moved to comply. As soon as she had his hands secured behind his back, I said, "Now, take off his belt and give it to me." When I had the belt, I tied her hands behind her back, and finished securing Walter's bounds. "Okay, walk toward the house in front of me."

"I can't."

"Lady I'm really getting tired of the 'I can'ts'. Just get him up, and walk to the house."

"Please. You don't understand. It's unbearably painful for us to go near that house. We'll pass out before we get there."

_Now, this is valuable information_. "What's wrong with the house? Why can't you go near it?"

She remained silent.

"Let's just test that." I grabbed her by the hair and began to march her to the house. She started to struggle. She pulled on her hair, crying, trying to get away. I felt some of her hair start to tear. I released her and she lunged back to the tree line, sobbing. By this time, I was starting to become a little sick of my actions. So far, I hadn't done any damage to these two that a good night's rest and a warm bath wouldn't cure. The woman's obvious panic and agony were starting to become more like torture than a clean effort to obtain information by intimidation. I didn't want to step over that line, unless it was a clear matter of life or death. "Can you walk to my car?"

She nodded.

"Help Walter into the back seat."

She helped the man to stand. He was in obvious pain from the blows I had delivered to his ribs, and a little dazed from the blow to the head.

She supported him as they made their way to the Camaro. I opened the trunk and put the shotgun in it. I removed the tire iron and a length of rope that I kept in the trunk.

I opened the car doors and made Walter climb into the back seat. I indicated that the woman should get in the passenger seat. Their efforts were awkward because they did not have the use of their hands, but they eventually settled down.

I looked in the back seat. "Okay. Walter, I'm going to let you both go. I want you to lie across the back seat. Do not move. If you make a move toward me, I am going to hurt you with this tire iron."

He lay face down. I tied his feet together, and then tied his feet tightly to his hands. I started the car and drove to the highway. I drove south toward the Tennessee border and Dale Hollow Lake. Once satisfied that the road was far enough away from the farm, in a deserted wilderness area, I stopped the car.

I motioned the woman out of the car, and untied Walters's feet. I let him out of the car, and I spoke to both of them.

"If you take my advice, you'll start walking to Tennessee, and stay there. If you come back to my home again, or threaten my family again, you can bet I'll be waiting for you. I'll drag you both into that house kicking and screaming, and let you rot there." At that, they both cringed. "Now, start walking, you can untie each other later." I watched them walk down the road and out of sight. I started the car and drove back to the farm.

On the way back home, I tried to formulate a plan. Somehow these people had evaded the cops, but I could see them. When I'd approached them they seemed surprised as though they thought they were invisible.

With two examples, I couldn't be sure, but it appeared the house was safe from them. Why? I didn't have a clue.

Two things were sure, our problems had just entered a new dimension and I need more than ever to teach Alex how to handle a gun.
Chapter 7

### Shadows in the Machine

I woke groggy, to the sound of Alex slapping her hand on my bedroom door.

"Wake up Paris. It's time to get up. Go take a shower. Tom will be here soon. It's nine o'clock."

I didn't need the time tick; I could see the sun. I'd slept nearly five hours, and in the Army, it would have been enough. However, I hadn't suffered sleep deprivation for a long time, and the events of the early morning had come with a price. I felt like shit.

"All right. All right. I'm getting up." I yelled through the door.

I stumbled to the chair on which I kept my robe, and made my uncertain way to the bathroom.

One hot shower and a shave later, I managed to walk with some confidence down to the kitchen. I needed some caffeine and carbohydrates.

Entering the kitchen, I discovered that Alex, God bless her, had made pancakes. I wolfed down a plate full, heavily laden with syrup and butter, and sat back with a steaming cup of black coffee. Alex was somewhere in the front of the house, so I called out to her. "Has Tom called?"

She didn't answer for a few minutes, and I was about to call again, when she walked into the kitchen.

"No, he hasn't called, but he said he'd be here early, and if he left this morning, he could arrive at any time."

"Do we have enough food, snacks and stuff, to feed him?"

"I hope so. We certainly won't be able to get anything on Sunday in Jamestown. I was hoping you would barbeque some steaks. I'll make a salad and the trimmings. How about a good bottle of wine from the wine cellar?"

"Good idea. Where's the key?"

"I left it in the desk in the study."

"I'll get it."

I went to the study and retrieved the key from the desk.

Descending to the basement, I looked around for the door to the wine cellar. It wasn't visible. I vaguely remembered the area where Alex had indicated the door was, but when I searched closely, I couldn't find it.

About to give up and yell for help, I spied a small opening in the wall. I looked at the key, and compared it to the hole. It didn't look like it would fit, but I tried it anyway.

The key seemed to sink into the wall, and I could feel it fit into the mechanism. I turned the key, and a section of the wall swung out to reveal the space behind it.

The space looked like a medium sized walk-in closet. Racked against all three walls were rows of bottles.

I walked in to browse the racks, and toward the back wall, my foot struck something that rattled. I couldn't see clearly in the darkened interior of the closet, so I felt around on the walls, and my hand found a light switch. I turned on the light, and knelt to examine what'd made the noise.

In the light, I saw two cases of bottles in cartons. I checked the labels and was delighted to discover that the cases contained beer, not just any beer, but Blackened Voodoo beer.

Blackened Voodoo was a specialty beer made by a company in New Orleans. I'd been to New Orleans on leave in the Army and had developed a taste for the brew. It was one of my favorites.

The company's brewery had been damaged by the hurricane. Finding the beer anywhere was hard. Discovering two full cases of it was like stumbling across a gold mine. I wondered how Dad had managed it.

I decided that I didn't care, so I took out one of the cartons, thought again, and then removed another. I closed and locked the wine cellar, and memorized its location.

I carried the two precious cartons of beer to the kitchen. "Hey Alex, look what I found!"

"What's that?"

"Beer, and not just any beer, Blackened Voodoo." I open the refrigerator, and put the cartons in to chill.

"Black – what?"

"Not black-what, Blackened Voodoo. It's a beer made in New Orleans. It's really hard to find." I checked the refrigerator's temperature setting, and turned it down a notch. "Trust me, you'll like it."

"If you say so..." She sounded dubious.

"I'll set the steaks to marinating. The beer will go good with them."

I prepared the marinade sauce, put the meat in it, and set it in the refrigerator. Then I took three large glasses with handles from the cupboard and put them in the freezer. They weren't beer mugs, but they would have to do. As soon as I closed the refrigerator, there was a knock on the front door. Alex was busy with the salad makings, so I went into the living room and opened the door.

"Hey, Tom. Glad you could make it. Come on in. How was the trip?"

He came and looked around. "Great. It's a beautiful day."

"Yeah, we've had sun for a week. It's unusual for Kentucky. Pretty soon, the farmers will start worrying about drought. Come into the kitchen. There's a fresh pot of coffee waiting."

We moved to the kitchen and sat at the kitchen table. Alex was at the sink, cutting cucumbers and tomatoes for the salad. She turned when we walked in, and smiled. "Hi, Tom."

"Alex, what's up?"

"Just making a salad for lunch. We're having steak, baked potatoes, and salad."

"Maybe if we get done early enough, we can head to the lake for a swim," I said.

"I didn't bring a bathing suit." Tom looked disappointed.

"No problem, I'll find something to fit you. Later, at lunch, I have a treat, Blackened Voodoo beer."

"What's that?" Tom asked.

I snorted. "Hah. Peasants. Both of you. Blackened Voodoo is just the best beer made in New Orleans, that's all."

"He's been like this all morning," Alex said. "I'd pray for his sanity if he had any. I hope it's as good as he says it is, otherwise, if we don't like it, he'll be sulking all afternoon."

Tom laughed. "Well, if we plan to hit the lake, I suppose I'd better get right on the computer. This could take a while."

"I'll help you," I said.

He walked to the hallway. "I need to get some things from my car."

"Okay, I'll meet you in the study, and I'll have the computer up and running."

Tom shook his head. "No, don't turn it on, I need to boot it from a CD, so I'll have to set it up first."

Changing my mind, I followed Tom to his car, where he removed a briefcase from the front seat. We went back to the house. "Did you have a wind storm here?"

He pointed to the severed branch laying on the ground and the splintered stub on the tree.

I gave a noncommittal shrug and didn't say anything, but I decided to clear up the evidence as soon as I could.

In the study, he removed a CD from the briefcase.

I noticed it was plain, without any writing on it. He powered the computer on, and with a few keystrokes prevented the operating system from running.

He changed the boot sequence in the computer, setting the CD as the first priority. He slipped the apparently blank CD into the drive, and rebooted the computer.

As he worked, he explained, "This CD has some programs on it that I got from one of my hacker friends. It depends on how recently the computer has been updated as to which program will be the most effective. I'll keep trying until one of them is able to mesh with the system, and then the real work begins. The trick is to hack the system without making it inoperable."

He worked steadily. The process took time, because each time a program failed to produce the desired results, he had to reboot and start all over again. After a while, I became bored just sitting and watching, so I went to the kitchen to find Alex.

She was sitting at the kitchen table, staring out the window. I sat down across from her. "He's still working, it's going slow."

She turned to study me. "Paris, I heard the gunshot last night, what did you do? Did you..."

"Shoot them? No. I – uh – persuaded them to relocate, as in northern Tennessee. I gave them a ride to encourage them."

Her eyes grew wide. "How did you... no, I don't want to know. Did they say anything about who they were, or what they were doing here?"

"No, but I learned something from what they did and didn't say. I've got the man's wallet. It has his identification, which happens to be false. At least he said it was. I still plan to check. But what I did learn is very interesting."

Alex frowned. "Define interesting."

"Well, the first and most important thing is that they apparently cannot come near the house without experiencing severe pain."

Her eyes opened in amazement. "What? Are you sure? That's weird. What's so special about the house?"

"I don't know, but that leads to my second suspicion. I think that last night they were trying to overcome or reverse whatever aspect of the house prevents them from entering it."

She shivered and stood up as though wanting to bolt. "That's just scary. That means they want to get in, and the only reason they would want to do that, is to get to us."

I made calming gestures with my hands. "Not necessarily. If they wanted to harm us, they could wait until we leave the house. No, I think they want something that's inside the house."

Alex moved aimlessly around the kitchen. "Whatever could be here that would be so important to them?"

"It's a big house. We haven't checked every part of it. We've already found something in a place that we certainly weren't expecting. Remember the dispatch case? I haven't gotten a clue as to what that something could be, but the concept fits with what I have been able to learn. There's something else. I don't understand it, but when I asked the woman who they were and who sent them, she said that their minds had been imprinted. She said that they were physically incapable of telling me anything."

Alex stopped moving and stared at me. "Is that like brainwashing or something?"

"No, I know a lot about interrogation techniques from my Army training. You can break a person, and get him to tell you anything, but it takes a long time and a lot of pain, and frequently the information is worthless. Most of the nonsense you read in books or see in the movies is bullshit. I've heard of imprinting, but it's usually associated with animal behaviors, and it has nothing to do with preventing someone from revealing information under interrogation. This woman acted like a robot at times. It was bizarre."

Hers eyes strayed to the hallway. "Well, where did they come from? Do they have a car parked around here somewhere? Maybe we can break into it, and find out who they are."

"According to the woman, they were driven here and dropped off. That means we're dealing with more than just those two, and it also means that there's some organization behind it."

She grimaced. "Thanks. That makes me feel real secure," she said sarcastically. "Couldn't you have lied? Now, I'll be looking over my shoulder at every stranger."

"So will I, Sis. I have a feeling that this isn't over, and I can't predict what's going to happen next. So, looking over your shoulder may be a good idea for a time. What I do know is that we need help. We need answers, and I'm hoping that damn computer will supply some of them."

She walked to the hallway. "Speaking of that damned computer. I think I should go and see how Tom's doing. I need to talk to him anyway."

"Good. You do that. Meanwhile, I want to go outside and remove some evidence."

"What evidence?"

"A tree branch."

Alex gave me an uncertain look and headed to the study, while I went to the tool shed.

I found the tree saw, and walked out to the front yard. I trimmed the splintered branch close to the tree, and carried both the stub and the branch back to the barn, where I piled both pieces on the brush-pile. I realized that if the cops looked hard, they'd find the evidence, but it was my farm, and if they wanted to look, they would need a search warrant. I went back to the study to join Alex and Tom.

"How's it going, guys?"

"Slow," Alex replied, "I don't know how Tom can be so patient."

"Well," he said, "you have to keep trying. Hackers are very patient. Sooner or later something clicks, and then there's the 'aha' moment. That's when everything drops into place, and you know just what to do. Your father was very computer savvy. He protected the machine very well. None of the old exploits have worked, and I'm about to try the newest techniques I know of. If these don't work, then the problem's going to become more complex."

He booted the machine again and typed a few commands. Then he checked a list of program names until he found the one he wanted. He typed some more commands and ran the program. "Aha," he said.

"Tom, you deliberately waited until I came into the room to do that."

"I did not." He sounded indignant.

I grinned. "Did too."

Tom gestured to the keyboard. "Anyway, all this is going to let me do is create a new administrator account. Now the hard part begins."

"It gets harder?"

He turned his head to look at me over his shoulder. "Yes, I'll be able to view the list of user names, but not the passwords. The passwords are up to you and Alex. You knew your father. You two are the only ones who would have a chance of guessing his password. Otherwise, the passwords have a hundred and twenty-eight bit encryption. It could take years to break them. "

He rebooted the computer, but this time, allowed the system to start normally. He entered the new administrator name, and the new administrator password. He opened the user account manager, and we all stared at the list of user names that were displayed.

antique lady

French Tart

Shadow Master

shining bright

ranger officer

Historians Quest

Administrator

I mentally groaned. Dad had been creative with words. "Alex, do you recognize any of these names?" I asked, after reading the list.

"That's mine," she said, pointing to one of the names in the list, "'antique lady'. Dad gave me a power user account. I can do everything but get into his files and modify the computer. You should have one here, too. Dad created one for you in case you needed to use the machine. There should be one for Mom, but all the rest, I don't know."

I thought for a moment. "Let's see, 'ranger officer' that's the name I use on my home computer, I'll bet that the password's the same. I gave it to him. What's Mom's user name?"

Alex shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe, 'French Tart'? Was Mom from France? No, that doesn't sound right. Dad never used anything like that when referring to Mom. How about 'shining bright'? That sounds more like Mom."

"Okay, 'shining bright' for Mom, so that leaves four names..."

"The Administrator account is the one I restored, but who's Shadow Master?" Tom asked.

I glanced at Alex. She shrugged again. "Beat's me. Maybe Dad was into computer games." She looked at Tom.

"One way to find out," he said, "let's see which name is the administrator account." He opened a new screen in which was displayed the details of the accounts. "According to this, 'shining bright' is the computer administrator. All the others are power users."

I was surprised. After everything that'd happened, I'd expected the Shadow Master account to be the administrator. To discover that the computer was keyed to the account name that we assumed was Mom's didn't make sense. Could it be that Dad was a lot more subtle than I'd supposed?

"I haven't got a clue." I said.

"Me either. Let's break for lunch," Alex said. "Paris, you get the gas grill fired up, and I'll finish the fixings."

"Great, I'll check to see if the beer is cold enough. Come on, Tom. Let's go outside and do the man stuff."

He laughed. "Man burns steaks."

Alex glared at me. "He'd better not. I like mine pink inside."

"Hey, I'm a good cook. You guys have no faith." I opened the refrigerator and checked the bottles of beer. They were not as cold as I would have liked, but they would do. "Here everyone, have a beer."

"I'll wait until lunch is ready," Alex said.

"Okay –. Tom?"

He examined the bottles with a dubious look. "I'll try it."

I opened two bottles and gave one to Tom. I reached into the freezer compartment and removed two of the now frosty cold glasses. We took the beer and the glasses outside to the grill.

I carefully poured my bottle into the glass, and took a drink. _Ah_. Just as I'd remembered it.

I anxiously looked at Tom while he sampled his glass. "Well?"

"I ordinarily don't like dark beer, but this is damn good. I wonder what's in it."

I took another pull and sighed. "Voodoo magic! Seriously, I think it's got chicory in it."

"Well, who would have thought?" Tom said.

I checked the propane bottle on the grill, opened the valves, and lit the burners. They seemed to burn properly, so I shut it off.

I left Tom sitting with his beer, and went back to the kitchen to get the steaks. While I removed the meat from the refrigerator, I spoke in a whisper to Alex. "How much do you think we should tell him?"

"I don't know. – He's a really generous guy. – If we tell him too much, he'll insist on helping us, and if we're really in some kind of danger, he will be too...It's a hard decision. – Maybe, just tell him about the problem of who our parents are. – Why don't we just play it by ear?"

"I agree. Okay, nothing about shadows, or any stupid crap like that. He'll think we're crazy. Agreed?"

She nodded.

We took the food out to the back porch table. Alex returned to the kitchen to get the plates and silverware, and laid them on the table. I fired up the burners on the grill and removed the steaks from the marinade. I laid the meat on the grill, and adjusted the flame. "Okay, Alex do you want your beer now?"

"Well, I don't know..."

"Take a drink from my glass, and see how you like it. If you don't want any after that, I won't push it."

She sipped a little from my beer, and frowned. Then her expression changed and she smiled. "Hey, that's good."

"I'll get you one."

"No, I'll just finish your glass, you can open another one."

I flipped the steaks over, and went back to get another beer. I returned to the porch and continued tending the steaks. "So, Tom, what's so important about the passwords on the computer?" I asked as nonchalantly as I could.

He barked a laugh. "You don't fool me. What's on that computer that has you so anxious? I'll tell you this, your father placed a shit load of data on that machine, and he used a kick-ass encryption program to protect it. Why would he do that? He definitely didn't want anyone who didn't know the passwords to be able to read it."

I cringed inside. We'd have to tell him something. "So, you think the computer password will unlock the data?"

"That's my best guess. You know, this started because the computer was acting slowly? Well, it's slow because it's packed with tens of thousands of files, to the point where there's little disk space. That's a lot of data."

"Well, Dad was a researcher, and a college professor. I imagine he collected a lot of data about his work..."

"Okay, but why encrypt it? Come on Paris, you've got to do better than that."

I looked at Alex. She shrugged. I turned to Tom. "I'll be honest with you, we don't know. In fact, we didn't know it was encrypted until you told us. The reasons we need to look at the data are complicated."

"Paris, I want to help you guys. I don't want to pry, but, unless I know what we're looking for, I don't know how to help."

I forked the steaks off the grill and put them on a serving platter. "Let's eat while we talk."

We loaded up our plates and commenced to eat.

"Mmmh, good steak," Alex said.

"Thank you, madam, just one of my famous culinary delights."

Tom finished a bite. "It is good. Now, about the computer?"

"One track mind. Alex, can you tell him about our parental problems?"

She threw an annoyed look at me, and turned to Tom. "Okay, Tom it's like this, we ran across some documents that seem to indicate the woman we thought was our mother was not our mother – birth mother that is – it's so complicated. We both know she was our mother. Neither of us could have loved her more. But, – if she wasn't our birth mother, then why? Why didn't they tell us? It wouldn't have made the slightest bit of difference in the way we felt about her."

"Oh. That's hard. To have that happen after they passed away – I can't imagine how you felt."

I interrupted. "Devastated is a good word. But, there's more. We both inherited a large amount of money, money that we never knew our father had. I'm worried, now more than ever, that the money is tainted. Dad's lawyer swears that the funds are legitimate, but why go to such extreme lengths to hide the data that might prove it? So, you see, we have an overwhelming need to look at the data on that computer."

Tom looked down at his plate. "Sorry guys. Sorry I was so insensitive of your feelings. I should have known better." He raised his head and looked at me. "Paris, you're one of the good guys at the company and Alex," his head swung to her, "I can't begin to describe how much I respect and admire you. It's just that when I saw how that computer was protected, – well you don't see that kind of thing, unless the person who owns it has a shit load of secrets to hide. Something like a mob boss who doesn't want the Feds to put him in jail. It's not something you ordinarily see on a home computer."

"That's interesting. That makes it more important than ever to know what's in it."

"Let's talk about something else," Alex said. "This subject is too depressing."

We spent the remainder of the time eating lunch and making small talk. Tom and I had another beer, but Alex declined. "If we're going to the lake, someone has to be the designated driver."

After lunch, we went back to the study. Tom sat at the computer while Alex and I hovered around him.

"So, where do we go from here?" I asked.

"We've got to be careful," he replied. "This encryption program is designed to wipe out the data if it thinks that someone is trying to hack it. It's going to provide limited chances to access it. I don't know how many tries you'll get. It's better to have an idea of what password to enter before you attempt it. Why don't we start with passwords we know?"

"I know my password works," Alex said. "Why don't we try yours?" She looked at me.

"Okay, Tom, enter my user name and password." I repeated it to him.

He switched users, and entered the password. The computer changed to a new screen, this one had a photograph in the background. It was one of my old Army pictures with me in uniform, holding an M–16.

Tom browsed through the computer icons, looking for files.

"Not much here," he said, "just some CAD drawings."

"CAD files? I never put CAD files on this computer. I wonder what they're doing here."

"What's a CAD file?" Alex asked.

"They're drawings, designs, plans – whatever. They're used to construct or manufacture something. CAD stands for computer aided design. Open one of them," I said to Tom.

"The program that opens these files is not installed. Your workstation might open them, but they won't open on this computer."

Okay, let's make a copy of the files, and I'll load them up later on the workstation."

He made a copy of the files on a compact disk, and we laid it aside. We turned our attention to the remaining user names.

Tom quietly studied the screen. "I don't think we should tackle the administrator password right now, but we need to figure out how to access the three remaining users, and I have an idea."

"And that is?" I asked.

"I've seen this kind of trick before. Notice how some of the other user names are spelled with capital letters? With encryption software like this, you have to be careful that you embed clues as to what the passwords are. That way, if you forget a password, you can recreate it from the clues. The capital letters are the clues. You either rearrange the letters to spell out the password, or the letters are the initial letters of the password. It's hard to guess, unless you know something about the person who set this up. That's where you two come in, you knew more about your family than anyone else."

He wrote the letters on a clean sheet of paper.

FTSMHQ

"Humm," Alex said, "no vowels."

"That's normal," Tom replied. "You have to mentally insert the vowels."

"Okay, let's start with French Tart.

We started playing around with the letters, trying different combinations, but nothing seemed to fit with what we knew or more accurately, what we suspected, was the subject of the user name.

"Damn. This is frustrating." I said. "Why don't we give up and start with the next one?"

"Wait a minute," Alex said. "Tom, do we have to use all of the letters?"

"No, definitely not. Remember, the combination was just to jog someone's memory."

"Okay, try 'fetish'." She clutched the chain that draped around her neck.

My eyes widened. "Yes, that's got to be it."

Tom looked dubious. "Okay, we'll try – fetish it is."

"No! Wait. Type it with a capital 'F'."

"You sure?" He looked at me suspiciously.

"I'm sure."

He typed the password into the computer, and we waited expectantly while the machine cleared the screen. Soon the display changed to reveal a few icons on a plain background. We were in.

"How did you guess that?" Tom asked. "No, never mind, it's your business, I don't need to know."

"It's something Dad said," I replied nervously, "he was obsessed by our mother." It wasn't a complete lie. He did say he was intoxicated. "Fetish also means obsession." I looked at Alex. "Good guess, Sis."

We checked the data in the computer. There were hundreds of files in multiple directories.

"Let's make a copy of this," I said. "We've got enough here to keep us busy for awhile. Maybe something in the house will give us a clue as to the passwords for the remaining users. Let's pack it in and hit the lake."

"Just be careful," Tom said. "If you piss off this software, it won't just kick you out. It'll wipe the hard drive. And I mean wipe. It will destroy the data so that even the Feds can't recover it."

"I'll keep that in mind. How many chances will it give us to get the password right?"

"One, maybe two, but don't push it. If the computer starts behaving strangely, shut it off immediately. Don't even try to power down, just pull the plug from the wall, and call me."

"Yes doctor Tom. Come on, let's grab another beer since Alex is driving, and I'll find you something to swim in."

We spent the remainder of the day at the lake, swimming and sunning at the docks. I spent a lot of time floating and swimming in the cool, clear water, while Alex and Tom talked.

We ate dinner at the Marina Inn and talked about the gossip at work, Tom's band, and his musical career. After dinner and before the sun started dipping below the horizon, we drove back to the farm.

I parked the car. "I had a good day."

"So did I," Tom said, "It was good to get away from the city. I love the country –"

"Sorry to interrupt, but while Tom and I were talking, he had an idea about the computer," Alex said, "about one of the passwords, and I want to try it."

"It was something you said, Alex, not me."

"What was it?" I asked.

"Well, she said that your dad used to say that 'history is fated to repeat itself'. She also said that your dad talked a lot about fate, so I thought, fate uses two of the letters in the group, and it might be worth a try..."

"What user do you suppose?"

Alex interrupted. "The historian user."

We entered the house and went back to the study. We started the computer, and Alex and I stood aside to allow Tom to operate the machine. He entered his password into the machine, and after it stopped performing its unfathomable tasks, he switched users, and entered the 'Historians Quest' user name.

"Okay, here we go," he said, and typed in 'fate' for the password.

The machine paused for a moment as if digesting this newest event, and then displayed a message. 'Warning: Bad user name or password. Please reenter password. Computer will shut down in 60 seconds if the correct password is not entered.' A timer appeared on the screen, and started counting backwards.

"Damn!" Tom said. "If it shuts down, it may scramble the passwords, or substitute alternate passwords to prevent someone from hacking it. We've got a problem. This software is smart and vicious. We need to enter the correct password and do it quickly."

"If it's not 'fate' then what is it? We need to think. Where's that paper you wrote the clues on?"

I grabbed the paper and stared at the letter grouping. What combination of letters could possibly fit the 'Historians Quest' user name? I thought furiously. Fate seemed to fit with the name. I had heard Dad talk often about fate. Somehow it just seemed to be right, but if fate wasn't the password, then what could it be? I looked at the screen. I grew panicky. Surely, a minute had passed while I was thinking. The screen showed thirty-four seconds remaining, and the seconds clicked down. Alex removed the sheet from my hand and stared at it intently.

"Okay, what have we got uh – fate, fated, – no – there's no 'D' in the list. 'Fate – fates, humm – fates? That uses three of the letters. Let's try 'fates'"

I stared at the screen, momentarily paralyzed. The timer displayed fourteen seconds.

"What ever we're going to do, we better do it now." Tom snarled.

"Enter the password," I said calmly.

Tom entered the password with nine seconds on the display. We held our breath. The display paused. It seemed to hang in suspended animation for an eternity. Finally, it cleared, and a normal screen with normal icons appeared.

Tom let out the breath he'd been holding with a sigh. "Damn. That was close. All that work would have been wasted, down the drain."

"I think we'd better be more careful in the future," I agreed shakily. "Let's see what we've got."

Tom scanned the previously unreadable directories and whistled. "Now, I know why we started this in the first place," he said, "the internet traffic files are clogging up the machine. There's something like thirty thousand files on the drive."

He examined the other directories on the computer. "There are some files on this directory that seem to be data and some word processing files. It looks like your father was doing some type of research."

"So, what do we do next?" I asked.

"Well, there's too much here to tackle now. I can delete the internet files. That will make the computer run faster, but before I do, I want to make a copy of them and clone the computer. I have some software at home that can trace your father's actions to see what he was interested in. – That is if you want me to, I don't want to pry. – Do you want me to do that?"

I looked at Alex. She nodded. "Yes, please. I think we would both like to know."

"I think we could all use a beer after this," I said. "I know I could."

After the files had been copied, and the computer shut down, we all sat around in the living room. Tom and Alex drank coffee while I nursed a beer.

"I've got to leave soon. Otherwise, I'll be real late getting back home. Unlike some people I could mention, I've got to work tomorrow."

"Huh. You think I'm not working? You should see the load Harvey piled on me. I think he's getting more work out of me here, than he would if I was back at the office. By the way, tell him that I've figured out a way to shave off about two-hundred grand from our costs. That will warm his larcenous heart, and get him off my back."

He laughed. "I'll be sure to tell him – exactly what you said."

The conversation lagged.

"Listen, you two, I don't know what kind of problems you're having, it's none of my business. But, if you need some backup, just let me know."

"Thanks for the offer, Tom, we appreciate it, and thanks for all your help. We certainly couldn't have done this by ourselves. As for involving you in our problems, it may be premature, but I _will_ keep it in mind."

We loaded up Tom's equipment. Alex gave him a smile and a chaste kiss on the cheek, they spoke a few words, and he drove back to Cincinnati.

"What was that about?" I said to her, after he left.

"Oh, I told him to give me a call when he knew the next date that the band was playing, and I'd be there."

"I thought you were going to tell him about Caesar."

"I did. Don't worry. I know a lot of nice girls who are looking for guys. I plan to bring some of them with me, and I told Tom that I was interested in someone else. That's how the subject of fate got started. It was just fate that Caesar and I met."

"You're putting a lot of faith in a chance encounter."

She grinned. "I know. Isn't it exciting?"

I just shook my head and rolled my eyes. I would never understand women.

We went back to the study.

"I want to check out those CAD drawings."

"Okay, while you do that, I'll browse through the files contained under the 'French Tart' name. They probably have something to do with the woman Dad wrote about." I noticed that Alex carefully did not mention the words 'mother' or 'birth'."

I grabbed the disk that contained the CAD files and sat down at the workstation. Powering up the machine, I loaded the files and checked them. They seemed to be generic CAD files, but they were very large. It was my experience that CAD files of that size contained a lot of detail.

Checking the first of the smaller flies carefully, I recognized what I was seeing, an overview of the basement remodeling for the farmhouse.

Laid out in layers, each layer contained the details of the construction of that particular layer.

With all the layers visible, it looked like a confusion of crisscrossed lines and labels. I knew from experience I would have to hide the other layers, and examine each layer individually to understand the details of the construction.

I wondered what feature of these plans could account for the size of the other files. I studied the layers, one by one.

Most of them were normal plans for the framing and finish work, but one of them, the layer closest to the old walls of the basement, was plain. It depicted a false wall that was fastened to the original stonework of the basement walls. It contained no construction details, simply a reference to another set of drawings.

I opened more of the referenced drawings, the large ones. One of them contained a detail of the false wall construction.

I puzzled over the drawing as I studied it. The false wall seemed composed of multiple materials sandwiched together. I looked at the bill of materials which listed each layer and its specifications and then checked the detailed drawings for each layer. They were mind-blowing. I rose from my seat.

"What the hell. Alex come and take a look at this."

"What?"

"You've got to see this, you won't believe it. Hell, I don't believe it."

She rose from the desk and came over to the workstation. She stared at the screen. "Okay, I'm here. So, what am I looking at?"

I sighed and sat back down. "I forgot. You don't read engineering drawings."

I opened one of the drawings that depicted the construction details. "This is a drawing of the remodel of the basement of the house. At first glance, it looks like any other construction project. But look here." I opened the layer showing the inner wall.

"This portion shows something unusual. There's an inner wall composed of several types of metals and in some cases, wood. They're sandwiched together and applied to the original walls of the basement. Then the studs and paneling are added to that."

"So? What's so unusual about that? Isn't it some kind of insulation or water barrier?"

"That's what I thought at first, but then I looked at the detailed drawings for each layer. Check this out." I opened the drawing that had startled me. There was a design embossed into the layer.

"Does that design look familiar?"

"Huh. I don't know, I think I've seen it before. – Oh my god." She reached into her blouse and pulled out her medallion. She stripped off the velvet jeweler's bag, opened the locket and compared the design on the medallion to the one on the screen.

"It looks like my medallion, but it's not. The designs are different."

"That's not all. The material that this layer is made of? – Its pure gold. It's thin, but it must have cost a lot of money. In addition, each layer has a different design. Some of the designs seem to connect to the next design on the next layer. Not only that, but there are some metal rods attached to the layered wall, and they extend through the building supports right up to the roof. They're also attached to the house wiring."

"What is it?" Alex asked.

"I have never seen anything like it. –Remember when you told me Dad and the contractor argued about the remodeling? Now, I know why."

"What does it do?"

"That's a good question. I've got a suspicion, but if I'm right, I haven't a clue as to how it works. Maybe there's something in these files that will provide an answer."

"Speaking of the files, I've read a few of them. We were right. They concerned that woman that Dad knew."

"French Tart?"

"Huh. French whore is more like it. Apparently, Dad hired private investigators to find out where this woman went. It seems they found several incidences where a woman of her description spread her legs for a man, and then each time, she disappeared. The other men were looking for her too."

"They had a description?"

She bit her lip. "Yes."

"And?"

"She was consistently described as a beautiful brunette woman with a French accent. She had amber eyes."

I felt a sinking sensation in my stomach. "Looks like there's no doubt then."

"Paris – it makes me ill to think that this – creature was our birth mother. Jenn – Mom – was our mother. Listen to me, I can't even call her by her proper name."

"Alex, that just proves your case. Genetics has nothing to do with being a mother. This French woman, Sybil, proves that. But, haven't you wondered? I mean, Dad was fair-haired, but Mom had glossy black hair."

"Yes it was. It was blue-black, like Elizabeth's until it started to turn gray, and she had the deepest blue eyes. She was beautiful. She was wonderful. I loved her so much. I miss her." She started to cry.

"Alex, let's make a bargain. Let's agree to call Jennie mother, and this other woman Sybil. Then we'll never mention it again. We'll lock it away. Seal it in our hearts and in our minds. – Come on, – we can do that."

"You're right," she moaned, "but oh God. It hurts."

I put my arms around her and let her cry. We sat like that for a while, holding each other, until her crying abated.

I got up, and brought over a box of tissues. "Here. It's a good thing we stocked these around the house. I imagine we'll be using them often before this is over."

"Sorry, it's just that it hits me – blind-sides me – every now and then."

"I know what you mean," I said, "it never really goes away. Elizabeth said that it gets easier with time. I hope she's right, because I couldn't stand hurting like this for the rest of my life."

We sat in silence for a while.

Finally, Alex spoke. "Paris, there's more in those files."

"What?"

"It seems that this – Sybil, was dropping litters."

"What do you mean, litters?"

"Well, not exactly litters, there was only one other set of twins, and they were both boys, but over a six year period of time she gave birth to an additional three other children – other than us, that is."

"Do you mean we might have five half brothers and sisters?"

"Two half-brothers and three half-sisters."

"Oh hell, could this get any more complicated? Do the files say where they are, or what happened to them?"

"The files are named in chronological order. I haven't got that far yet, but Dad apparently had investigated this for some time. Some of the files are more recent."

I thought for a while. "Read the remainder of the files, I want to start on the Historian files, to see if there is anything that relates to the house."

We each settled to our tasks. I waded through the mass of files in search of a clue that might explain the weird construction in the basement.

The files seemed to be related to ancient accounts of mysticism and folklore. There were several files on the druids, Norse gods, and pictures of ancient symbols. A whole directory was devoted to witches, wizards and tales of demonic possession. Several directories contained huge amounts of data on reports of people who had disappeared or died under mysterious circumstances, and speculation on the subject of the 'Shadow People'.

I decided to look at the pictures. I examined each of them. Some were actual pictures of runes and symbols found at archeological dig sites. Some were from books on Norse and English mythology, and some were from oriental mythology.

Each appeared to have similar characteristics. If I combined elements from each of them, it would nearly equate to something I had already seen. Each of the pictures contained some, but not all, of the features in the designs that I had seen in the CAD drawings.

I read the captions under the pictures. Most of the captions described designs that provided protection, a few talked about how the symbols were meant to ward away evil spirits, or provide barriers against possession.

In my mind, the whole subject seemed ridiculous. Assuming that these symbols could do what they were purported to do, and assuming that the danger they were meant to deflect was real, what physical mechanism was involved in their power? No, the idea was a bunch of superstitious nonsense.

Yet Dad, who I knew to be a levelheaded and skeptical man, had had these designs incorporated into the walls of his basement.

"I've found something, Alex."

"So have I," she replied.

"What did you find?"

"No, you go first, and then I'll tell you."

"Okay, I think I may have an idea as to the meaning of the alterations that were made to the basement, but I haven't any idea of how they might work, or if it's just some screwy superstitious nonsense. Remember the crazy trespassers that I gave a free ride to?"

"Yes."

"Well, remember when I said that the woman would not come near the porch?"

"Vaguely," she said.

"In fact, when I tried to drag her to the porch, she damn near fainted. She fought me every step of the way. From what I'm seeing here, I think that the designs are meant to ward these people away and the weird construction is designed to amplify the warding effects. I don't have a clue as to how that might work, it defies all known science and logic, but it seems to be effective. Alex, they can't enter the house. Apparently, so long as we stay in the house, we're safe. The same effects may apply to our medallions. Maybe that's why Dad wanted us to wear them."

"I hope so, because if what I'm reading is true, we're going to need that protection."

"What do you mean?"

"Remember that I said we had five potential half brothers and sisters?"

I nodded.

"Dad apparently hired private investigators to keep tabs on them as they matured. – That is, until about ten years ago."

"Why did he stop?"

"Because there was nothing to investigate. You see, about ten years ago, they started to disappear. They've simply gone, vanished into thin air, and no one can find them. –By the way, from their physical descriptions –they look remarkably like us."
Chapter 8

### Courtship and a History

"So, you're buying a car," I said, as I drove along the route to Russell Springs.

"Yep, I'm getting tired of not having wheels."

"You shouldn't have sold your car."

"Had to, I needed money to pay the tuition to Cincy U."

"I would have helped, you know."

"Brother dear, I don't sponge off my family. You know that. I pay my own way."

"Sometimes you're too independent for your own good."

"Even more so now, Paris. Unless you didn't get the memo, we're independently wealthy. I called Silas, and he'll make the funds available – Oh, and Silas said that you could pay off your Camaro."

"I'll think about it. Why all of a sudden, do you want to buy a car? What were you planning to do in Covington?"

"Paris, after the first week of class, I figured I'd have plenty of offers to drive me to school."

"Yeah, you're probably right. So why the sudden change of heart?"

"Caesar doesn't have a car."

"Oh, I see."

She grinned. "So I'm the one who gets to run out of gas."

"You're incorrigible."

We drove in silence for a while.

"Sis, did you learn anything else from the computer last night?"

"Not much, our supposed siblings have vanished from the face of the earth. There's a lot of missing person reports, some of the addresses match the list that Dad provided, and I think we should go talk to the fathers of the victims, but I am not in a hurry to do so right now."

"Why?"

"I think my personal life comes first."

"As in, Caesar?"

"As in Caesar. What about you? You're going to see Elizabeth today, is it any different?"

I sighed. "I don't know. I want it to be something, but I'm scared."

"My brother, frightened?"

"I'm scared that she won't want anything to do with me, and I'm scared that if she does, I'll be totally lost. I won't be able to see enough of her. I'll lose myself in her."

"Don't be silly. Any woman who doesn't fall for you has to be gay."

"This is a special woman, Alex. I don't want anything to disrupt our relationship. I want to take it slow, as though I'm trying to become friends with something wild and shy."

"You've got it bad. Now, you know how I feel about Caesar."

"I guess. – I just feel that this is my one chance to get it right. I feel that if I screw up, I'll never be whole again."

"Screw up? I hope that's not love talk. You certainly won't impress her that way." She laughed.

I grinned. "I don't plan to impress her. I just want to be myself. I want her to see me as I am."

"Good strategy."

"You think so?"

"Just wait and see. I know women."

In a few minutes, we arrived at Russell Springs. I drove Alex to a cluster of car dealerships.

"Do you know what kind of car you want?"

"I'll know it when I see it."

"Well, what model? Ford? GM? Chrysler? Foreign?"

"I haven't decided. I told you, I'll know it when I see it. Just drop me off at the car rental agency."

"Car rental?"

"Yes, I plan to rent a car for today and drive around to each dealer until I find one I want."

"Rent a car to buy a car? That's screwy. You're exasperating."

"Relax. Silas promised to call the dealership and vouch for the cost – in cash. I'll have them all eating out of the palm of my hand. They'll be falling all over themselves, trying to give me a good deal."

I found a rental place some distance out of town. Russell Springs was about the size of Jamestown. The difference was that interstate highway 75 cut through the town, and the county hospital that Elizabeth worked at was located there. After making some inquires at the local gas stations, I dropped Alex off at the U-Haul. She planned to rent a pickup truck.

"Alex, this is slightly nuts. If you could just wait, I could help you."

"Paris, I want to do this myself. It'll be fun."

"Okay, call me on your cell phone if you have trouble."

I had some time to kill before my lunch date with Beth, so I drove around the town looking for some likely places to have lunch. On the way, I happened to pass by a florist shop and felt a sudden urge, so I stopped and entered the shop.

The clerk waited on a customer, so browsed around and looked at the displays. A wide variety of bouquets were displayed in the shop and I didn't have a clue as to what I wanted. All of them looked colorful or, in some cases, gaudy.

At a loss, I didn't want something that professed undying love, at least not now, but I wanted something that said I want you to notice me. After a while, the clerk finished his business with the customer, and confronted me.

"Can I help you sir?"

"Ah – I don't know, I'm looking for some flowers for a pretty lady, but I don't know what would be appropriate."

"Is she a wife, lover, relative or other?" he asked.

"Um, I believe she belongs to the 'other' category."

"Oh, 'other'. Hmm – Let me get my wife, she's an expert on the 'other'."

He exited to the back room and eventually, a smiling, slightly plump woman emerged and approached the sales counter.

"Can I help you?"

"I want to buy some flowers for a female acquaintance. I'm taking her to lunch, and I just felt that it would be a nice thing to do."

"Is this female someone you would like to impress?"

"I don't know if I want to overwhelm her, I want to indicate that I value her friendship, and I want it to continue. I just want her to know that I'm interested."

"I think I understand," she said, with a sympathetic smile. "I think I can make you a bouquet that sends the right message."

"Can you? I'd be grateful."

We discussed the cost, I didn't have any idea of how much would be too much, cost was not a factor in this decision, so I decided to surrender myself to her wisdom and told her to decide, regardless of the cost.

After a while, she returned with a bunch of colorful and fragrant blossoms. The flowers predominating were yellow roses. They looked pretty, so I paid the bill, thanked her, and exited the shop.

I drove around some more, trying to find the right place to have lunch, but nothing seemed to fit my plans. It was getting later in the morning, and noon was approaching, so I decided to drive to the hospital. I didn't dare to be late.

I parked in the visitor's parking and entered the hospital.

I was lost. I didn't have any idea of how to find Elizabeth, so I looked around the foyer.

A spied a window that contained a person, and decided to ask directions. As I stood in front of the counter, I saw a middle-aged woman who sat typing on a computer keyboard. She finished her entry, and turned to me.

"Can I help y'all?" she asked, smiling.

"Yes, I'm looking for Doctor Elizabeth Rowan. Can you tell me where to find her?"

"Doctor Beth?" Her smile became neutral. "What do you want with Doctor Beth?"

I cleared my throat, I felt nervous. "My name is Paris Fox. I have uh – an –appointment with her."

"Oh, you're that man." She eyed the flowers clutched in my sweaty hands. Her smile changed from neutral to brilliant.

"You just march yourself back to the emergency room, and tell them at the nurse's station, they all will be waiting for you. – Nice flowers."

I was bewildered. "Who will be waiting for me?"

"Well, I 'spect most of the emergency room. We like Doctor Beth 'round here."

My nervousness turned to dread. Was I going to have to run a gauntlet?

I made my way, with a few wrong turns, to the rear of the hospital, finally finding the emergency room nurse's station after asking one of the white suited orderlies for directions. There seemed to be a large number of hospital staff clustered around the desk, and I wondered if there was some sort of crisis that would prevent Elizabeth from having lunch.

I announced myself at the desk. "Hi, I'm Paris Fox, and I'm here to see Doctor Elizabeth Rowan."

A pretty nurse who was seated at the desk, looked at me and the bunch of flowers held in my hand, and called out "Someone get Doc Beth, Paris is here."

I waited at the station while most of the hospital staff clustered around stared at me. Finally, the pretty nurse said, "So you're Doc Beth's Paris?"

The thought of belonging to Elizabeth made my heart leap in my chest. I could not breathe for a moment. "I can only wish it were true." I tried to calm myself.

"Any more country boys like you where you come from?"

I truthfully didn't know how to respond, so I said, "I know a guy in Cincinnati, who works with me."

"I'll tell you what, why don't you shoot him in the leg and drop him off at emergency, we'll take good care of him!" She laughed.

Soon, Elizabeth emerged from one of the alcoves where patients were treated. She wore blue scrubs, booties, and a hair net, a stethoscope was draped around her neck. She peeled off some rubber gloves and dropped them into a hazardous waste bin, and then she walked towards me.

I had never seen anything more lovely.

"Hello Paris," she said in her velvet voice. "Just give me a few minutes to finish up, and we can go to lunch."

She smiled.

I was lost.

Then I remembered the flowers. "Here," I stammered. "These are for you." I handed her the bouquet.

Her eyes widened. She didn't speak for a moment. Then she took the flowers. "Paris, you shouldn't have – Oh. Listen to me, I sound like a cliché. Thank you Paris, they're very beautiful." She inhaled their fragrance. "They smell good too."

"Doctor Beth, give them to me. I'll put them in some water," one of the nurses said.

She handed the flowers to the speaker. "What are you people standing around for? Don't you have some work to do?"

They all grinned, and separated to various parts of the emergency room, except for the nurse at the nurse's station. She continued to stare at me. She turned to Elizabeth and murmured something to her.

Beth smiled. "We'll talk about it when I get back. – Paris, go back to the waiting room. I'll be out in a few minutes."

I went back to the front of the hospital, found an uncomfortable chair, and started biting my nails and crossing and uncrossing my legs. I rose from the seat and began pacing around the room until the woman at the counter said, "she'll be out in a little while, Mister Fox. Please, sit back down, and relax."

Moments after that weighty pronouncement, Elizabeth emerged from the hallway.

I gasped. She was stunning. She wore a blinding white sundress that ended just above her knees. It was patterned with bright blue and violet blossoms. The combination highlighted the dusky rose coloring of her face and contrasted with her amazing blue-black hair. On her feet were dainty white sandals, and I could see she wasn't wearing stockings. She didn't need to, because the skin of her legs was like satin. I felt a brief pang of erotic desire, which I quickly suppressed.

She walked up to me and smiled. "Are you ready to go?"

"You're beautiful."

She blushed. "Thank you. You look pretty good yourself."

I was relieved. I had wavy hair like Alex's, and it had grown out to almost tickle my shoulders. I'd spent a lot of time this morning, getting my hair brushed out just right, and choosing the right clothes. Alex had complained that I was starting to act like a teenaged female, monopolizing the bathroom. I was wearing a deep green open-throat polo shirt, white-duck trousers, and brown loafers.

"Do you want to drive or shall I?" I said, hoping that I would be able to impress her with my Camaro.

"I think I should," she replied. "In case the hospital calls for an emergency."

I hid my disappointment. "Okay." I thought for a moment. Finally, I said, "I confess. I don't know where to eat. I was thinking of 'The Mode', but I've never been there."

"Paris, that's horribly expensive. – I'll tell you what. – I suggest we go to my bed and breakfast. It's not too far away, and they have good food. We can dine on their patio. It's a good day for it."

"Okay, but only if you promise to let me take you to some horribly expensive restaurant at a future time, and treat you to some decadent extravagance."

She smiled. "Sneaky way to get another date?"

I smiled back. "Yes, I guess it is."

"I'll forgive you," she said and laughed. "Okay, decadent extravagance it is – at another time."

We arrived at her car. She keyed the door locks, and we slipped into the Jag's comfortable leather seats. She started the car. The engine growled to a start, and settled down to purr like a resting tiger. Elizabeth shifted the car into gear and glided it from the hospital's parking lot to the highway. She drove smoothly, surely; navigating through the town like a racecar professional.

After a few miles, we stopped and parked in front of a white, two-story frame house set back some distance from the street. The property was a picture-postcard rendition of a typical Kentucky bluegrass farm with massive maple trees shading the house, and two large pastures containing horses. From this distance, they looked like, and most likely were, thoroughbreds.

"Pretty," I said.

"I like it," she replied. "I stay here whenever I'm the on-call resident. The hospital has rooms reserved here just for that purpose."

We entered the house through a large, ornate door that had a stained glass center. 'Kentucky B&B' was etched into the glass.

Proceeding to the end of the hallway, a welcome counter had been built adjacent to a sweeping stairway, which led up to the second floor. Behind the counter stood an attractive gray-haired woman.

"Doctor Beth, welcome back. Will you need your usual room?"

"I'm not staying, Melinda. We just came to have lunch. What's on the menu?"

She glanced at me and said, "Today's the brunch buffet. All you can eat."

"What about it Paris, is that okay with you?"

"It's fine," I said. "In fact, it's better than fine."

"Good. Melinda, we'll eat on the patio."

We followed Melinda through the hallway to the dining room.

A large sideboard supported a wide array of steaming platters of food, and another sideboard contained various prepared salads, salad makings and pickles.

I checked out the various offerings and spied a platter of fried green tomatoes. Alongside the platter was a savory looking sauce. I loaded up my plate with the tomatoes, and poured the sauce over them, added a few other items that looked interesting, and waited for Elizabeth to decide. She also piled on a layer of the tomatoes with sauce, and we went to the shaded, trellis-covered patio.

The patio had a pleasing view of the horse pasture and the distant woods bordering the property. It looked peaceful and idyllic. "This is nice," I said. "It's a beautiful day."

We found an empty table and sat down. I looked around and saw a table with a beverage layout on it.

"What would you like to drink?" I said.

"Iced tea for me," she said.

"Lemon?"

"Please."

I went over to the table and prepared two glasses with ice and lemon wedges. I lifted a frosty pitcher of tea from the ice, and poured two tall glasses of amber tea. I brought them back to the table and sat down.

We sat for a moment, gazed at the view, and then commenced to attack the plate of tomatoes. They were uncommonly good, crispy hot breading on the outside, with slightly crunchy fruit on the inside. The sauce added just the right amount of spice to the flavor. They were some of the best I had ever eaten, and on the subject of fried green tomatoes, I considered myself an expert.

"These are really good," I said.

"So," she said, "you like fried green tomatoes?"

"All my life. I loved them as a kid."

"They have good food here."

"Yes. Maybe I should reconsider my suggestion of a decadent dinner."

"I don't think so," she replied. "I'm holding you to your offer."

"Anytime Beth. For you, anything."

She glanced away nervously, toward the view of the pasture. _Idiot. You're making her uncomfortable. Change the subject._

She turned back to me and looked directly in my eyes. "So, you grew up in Kentucky?"

Relieved and calmed by her response, I vowed to apply the brakes to my uncontrollable emotions.

"Yes Alex and I were raised on our parents' farm. My dad had a career as a college professor, and later as a retired, independent researcher. Mother," – I winced at the use of the word, and tears filled my eyes. My voice grew husky, "– was there for us, whenever we needed her. I couldn't have wished for a better childhood."

Elizabeth's eyes reflected compassion. "I envy you. We didn't have a mother for the majority of our lives. Father tried to make up for it with some caring nurses and nannies, but there's no real substitute for a mother's affections."

Her expression became more neutral. "Father could be intimidating. I never quite understood what he did for the State Department, but he definitely wasn't a diplomat. He and I clashed occasionally. I was always a strong willed child. I knew what I wanted and how to achieve it. Father seemed afraid that I'd make the wrong choices, but in the end it seemed to turn out all right. Now, it's more like I'm his parent. Since his illness, he's developed some strange delusions. I'm worried about him."

I picked up my fork. "You're right. I don't know how I would have coped with life's ups and downs without my parents' support."

We grew quiet and turned our attention to the meal in front of us. I immersed myself in my thoughts and memories of my mother.

I had to admit, the food was good. We made the tomatoes vanish, and I toyed with the other items on my plate.

After a while, I said, "you mentioned before, that the story of your adoption is interesting."

"There's a certain dash of mystery surrounding it," she replied.

I waited for her to continue.

"Father was married to an Iranian, a beautiful, intelligent woman, who'd become disillusioned with the religious turmoil that existed in the country after the expulsion of the Shah. She somehow managed to escape the persecution of the women who lived there."

She sipped her tea.

"How long ago was that?" I asked.

"Over thirty years. Father was in Iran, working for the British Embassy as an adviser. It happened during one of the periodic episodes of religious turmoil that grew from the Islamic Revolution." Elizabeth leaned back in her seat.

"According to our father we were dumped into his arms like a package of laundry. There's a story behind that but I won't go into it. Our mother took pity on us and convinced Father to adopt us. The question was how to smuggle us out of Iran. Father had some close ties to the British Ambassador and he agreed to help. Through some diplomatic subterfuge that Father won't talk about, we were passed off as the children of two British-Iranian couples who were leaving Iran.

"Here's where the story gets strange, at least according to Father. At the airport, the religious officials were reluctant to let us leave, but some veiled stranger dressed in a black chador intervened and of a sudden, all the objections vanished.

"Father and Mother took us to Scotland and legally adopted us. There were a lot of complications associated with our adoption and status, but Father seemed to be able to make all the problems vanish. I don't know how much of this is true. Father becomes very evasive when pressed for details. Most of it I've pieced together from documents in our possession and things I've overheard. I suspect there's a lot our father's not telling us."

I agreed with her. From her brief description, it sounded like her father worked for British Intelligence. "How did you come to be in the United States?"

She sipped her tea and sat the glass on the table. "Mother died six years after the episode of our flight from Iran, from the complications of the wounds she received during the revolution, coupled with cervical cancer. After she died Father immigrated to America with us and worked for the U.S. State Department.

"I don't remember much from that period, but I do remember that she was a loving, and caring woman. Father never married again, saying that there was only one person in his life who could be our mother, and she was gone, so he would have to fulfill both roles. It was difficult, but he managed to create a decent home life for us. We're both devoted to him. Caesar stays with him to take care of him. He's very frail. I try to be with him as often as my position at the hospital allows."

"Good, then you'll be in Jamestown a lot."

She didn't reply directly, just smiled and changed the subject. "Caesar has formed an attachment to your sister."

"Really? I think Alex is very eager to explore the depths of that relationship. I believe that Caesar is in for one wild experience. My sister is very determined. In fact, at this moment, unless I am mistaken, she is making the lives of some automobile dealers miserable. She's trying to buy a car."

"Why?"

I chuckled. "To drive Caesar around."

"You're joking."

"I'm not. She said that Caesar doesn't have a car."

"He drives our father's automobile."

"Well, she may change that habit."

"You and your sister have a very close relationship, don't you?"

"True. We've been close from birth. I love her. I'll do anything to help and protect her. Now that our parents are gone, there's only us. However, I'm glad that she now has Caesar to focus upon. Neither of us has found a significant life partner that matches our relationship – at least until now." I looked squarely in her eyes when I said the last.

She blushed, and looked away. "Important things should evolve gradually, then people can avoid rushing into bad decisions."

"Am I important?"

"I think, maybe," she replied cautiously, "only time will tell."

My heart went into overdrive. "Could we spend some time together exploring how important we might be to each other?"

She grinned. "I think that might be possible."

"Tomorrow?"

She shook her head. "No, Paris, I have obligations to the hospital."

"The next day?"

"I'll call and let you know."

"Beth, as selfish as it may seem, I only see one obligation, and that is to you and me. – and the future of us."

She nibbled her lower lip. "You're rushing Paris. Give me some time to sort it out."

"Yes, ma'am." I was so happy I could cry.

The remainder of the lunch consisted of smiles and talks about our likes and dislikes. By the end of our date, we were both in a good mood, and we drove back to the hospital in high spirits. I got out of her car, and we both looked at each other wondering what would happen next.

"I suppose it's too early to kiss you?" I said.

"I don't think so," she replied. She launched a lock on my lips that damn near caused my heart to stop beating.

The kiss lasted for what seemed to be the remainder of my life, and just as I was about to be drowned in it, she broke free. She seemed breathless. "That's another thing that we need to take slow. Too much of that will cause all kinds of problems."

I was speechless, watching her walk back to the hospital. Frozen to the spot, I felt almost overwhelmed by my feelings.

"Yes!" I shouted.

She looked back and grinned, but she kept walking to the hospital.

I stood in the parking lot, watching her go until she disappeared into the building. I remembered Alex, and used my cell phone to call her. She answered on the second ring.

"Hi Paris."

"How did you know it was me?"

"Caller ID."

"Oh – yeah"

"Where are you?"

"On my way back to Jamestown"

"Did you get what you wanted?"

"I think so, you'll have to see."

"Tell me."

"Nope. You'll see when you get back."

"I can't wait," I said, and disconnected.

I drove back to Jamestown, curious as to what Alex could have decided on for transportation. As I turned off the highway to the front lawn, my curiosity was satisfied to the same measure as my astonishment. There, sitting in front of the house was a gleaming, new pickup truck. It was a huge king-cab, and looked powerful. As I stopped my car and got out, Alex emerged from the house.

"How do you like it?" She grinned.

"You're crazy." I laughed. "That thing must simply guzzle gas."

"Hey. Energy efficient. It's a hybrid. Gets great gas mileage."

"Really? Let's pop the hood."

I opened the hood of the truck and looked inside. The space was crammed with engine and electronics. However, all the necessary items were out front and easy to access. I nodded appreciatively.

"Looks nice," I said.

"You must be in a good mood. I thought you'd lecture me about my choice, like those idiots at the car lot."

"Gave you some resistance did they?"

"Yeah, one of the guys volunteered to drive it for me – he was obviously trying to hit on me – so I told him to go get his sister, and I'd have her drive it. In fact, they just made me drive a harder bargain. You can get a lot with cash. So– why are you in such a good mood? Oh – I get it. – She kissed you." Then she laughed.

"How did you know?"

"Duh. You should see that dopey smile on your face. You should also wipe off the lipstick." She laughed again. "I told you. Now we're both in trouble. Let's go for a ride in my new truck."

We jumped into the truck and headed toward the lake.

I was impressed. The vehicle drove smoothly. It didn't feel like I thought it would. The strange part was that when we stopped at a traffic light or stop sign, the engine stopped and the truck was quiet.

"Weird, huh?" Alex said. "I keep wanting to start the engine, but you just press the gas petal, and off she goes."

We drove for a while and I gazed at the countryside. "What are your plans for the rest of the day?"

"Gonna meet Caesar in town and take him for a ride in my new truck."

"Aren't you going to pick him up at home?"

"No, he's in town now, he said that he has some business to take care of, and then we're going out to dinner. Expect me late tonight. It turns out that he drives his father's car. The old man is too sick to drive, so he takes him everywhere he has to go, and sees to his needs. Caesar's decided that he'll stay and take care of his father until the end. Apparently, his father has a terminal heart condition, can't find a donor, and is not expected to live much longer. But Caesar says that he is a tough old bird, and may surprise the doctors. I think that Caesar loves his father very much. I think I love him more for that reason."

"Love? When did love come into the picture?"

Alex turned her head from the road to look at me. "Come on, Paris. I'm in love, no question about it. I think Caesar feels the same way. It's wild, exciting, and wonderful. I don't have any idea how it could have happened in just three days, but I feel it. No matter what happens, whether it's going to last or not, whenever I'm with him, I feel content and warm. I think it's the real thing." She redirected her attention to the road. "If it isn't," she shrugged, "I'll live with it, but I know I'll always cherish the feelings."

"What can I say?" I settled back in the comfortable seat, breathing the new-car smells. "I think it's catching and I have the same disease. This isn't possible, but it's happening. Just one more crazy aspect of being human, I guess. It doesn't seem like we can take it slow, though. I wonder why?"

She sighed. "Maybe it's just our age, and our time, but I feel it's something more. I can't define it, so I've just decided to go along with it and see where it leads."

I cast my eyes on the interior, fiddled with the dashboard, and stroked the leather seat. "Well, in the final analysis, even if it ends in disaster, Alex, we've still got each other."

She nodded. "Yes, there's that, but I'm hoping for more."

"Me too."

I mimicked holding a glass and proposing a toast. "Here's to happy outcomes."

We finally turned around and drove back to the farm.

Alex dropped me off at the house, and sped back toward Jamestown. I needed to work on the plans and specifications for my money-saving idea, and to complete the tasks that Harvey had assigned for me, so we spent the remainder of the day, each in our own separate worlds, heading to our own unique destinations.
Chapter 9

### Lawyers and Love

By a small amount of pleading and groveling, I was able to convince Harvey I needed more bereavement time by assuring him I would continue to complete the work required for the project.

Of course, it helped that my idea was going to save more money than I'd estimated, and Tom had spread the news at work that I didn't need the job.

I felt a small twinge of guilt for not returning to work, but the thought of having the time to explore my relationship with Elizabeth and the opportunity to solve the mysteries surrounding my parents eliminated that.

I'd finished the work Harvey required by depriving myself of sleep and burning the majority of the day to complete it. In addition, I'd gone beyond that, to complete material that I could deliver to him in small doses to keep him happy.

Therefore, I'd bought myself some time to try to solve my other problems. The question was what to do next. Of course, Elizabeth was the main priority. The other problems could wait.

So I called her at the hospital to make another date.

By now, based upon the previous reception I received, I imagined the whole hospital knew I was interested in Elizabeth. My suspicions were rewarded when, at the mention of my name, the phone call was put through.

"Doctor Rowan here, how can I help you?"

"Hi Beth, its Paris."

"Oh. – Hi."

"Just calling to see if you're busy tonight. I have in mind to take you out for that decadent dinner we talked about."

"Oh. Tonight?"

"Sorry, is there a problem?"

"We had a hard day today. I really want to see you again, but I don't think I have the energy to handle a dinner date."

"It's okay. Listen, I have a shoulder if you need it."

There was silence for a minute. "I think I could use that."

"Are you coming back to town?"

"No, I think I'll stay at the B&B," she said.

"I'll meet you there."

"Give me a few hours. I have some more patients to see, and I won't be there until about, oh, six or seven."

"Okay, I'll see you at seven. I guess I'll have to get used to a doctor's hours."

"Used to? As in future? I've got to warn you, it only gets worse."

"It's worth it, for the time you have."

"Oh. Paris, this is getting serious, isn't it?"

I sighed. "I don't know if you know how serious."

"I guess we'll talk about that when you get here," she replied. "This is scary, Paris."

"I know, but it feels wonderful."

"Yes it does, but it's still unsettling."

"We'll talk about it when I get there. See you soon."

"See you – bye." She disconnected.

I spent the remainder of the afternoon in impatient anxiety, wondering what had affected Elizabeth so badly. I thought of whiling away the time trying to tackle the computer that held so much of Dad's secrets, but didn't have the ability to concentrate. I took a shower, spent some time choosing what I would wear, and reflected upon the fact that I was going to have to expand my wardrobe. Alex was gone for the day, undoubtedly casting her net for Caesar, and I was alone in the house. The phone rang and I jumped.

"Hello."

"Paris? This is Silas."

"Hi, what's up?"

"Just calling to keep in touch. I am also informing you that I have withdrawn funds to match what Alex spent on the new car. Do you want me to deposit the funds in your bank account or deliver a check?"

"I don't need the money."

"Nevertheless, you both are share and share alike on the bequest, and I must provide a like allotment for you. What do you want me to do with it?"

"I don't know – invest it?"

"If you want, I can put it in an IRA, but I'll need some information for the government."

"No thanks."

"Truthfully, Paris, it's better to spend it, the IRA will be complicated, and you won't be able to access it without a substantial penalty. If you could use the funds in the near future, you should just deposit it."

"Whatever you think is more advantageous."

"Good, give me your bank account information, I'll do a direct deposit."

I retrieved my checkbook and read off the account numbers. "Is that all?" I asked.

"No, there's one more item. As I promised, I've been urging the Jamestown police to investigate your parents' accident. They've learned something new. It seems that the automobile that was suspected of being involved in the hit-and-run has been found."

"Good. Have they found the persons responsible?"

"No that's what puzzles them. The car registration is false, and they can't identify the owner."

"What? – How's that possible?"

"It's possible if you've got enough power and organization," Silas said.

"Silas, are you trying to tell me something?"

"I don't know. For now, I would like you to call me on a regular basis. Say, Monday of each week. I am going to make further inquires, and perhaps hire bodyguards. – If you don't call, I'll have the police check your property, and if necessary, conduct a search."

"Now you're worrying me."

"Just being cautious."

"Well no bodyguards for now. Things here are under control."

"The police said that you called them twice about trespassers."

"Yes, that's true."

"Care to tell me about it?"

"That depends. Is what I say covered under attorney-client confidence?"

"Yes."

I related the incident of the two people dancing at the front of the farmhouse, and my actions. I also pointed out that the police were powerless to prevent it. "Silas, if a trained policeman can't see them, how can a bodyguard see them?"

"That's a good point, but I may be able to help. If you shoot one of them, be sure to wound, not kill. I think I need for you and your sister to visit me as soon as you can."

"Why?"

"Not over the phone."

"Oh. – Okay, how about tomorrow?"

"I have enough time at one o'clock," he replied.

"Okay, we'll be there."

"See you then."

"Bye." I hung up.

I hated that the conversation had dampened my good mood. I wanted to be in the best frame of mind when I saw Elizabeth, but I couldn't help but brood.

What the hell was going on? This sounded more and more ominous. A parent who was not a parent, a crazy group of people who insisted on trespassing on the property, an unexpected inheritance, missing persons who might be my siblings, and now, in my mind, the certainty that my parents had been murdered. How did it all link together, and what, if anything, could I do about it?

I called Alex on her cell phone.

"What's up Paris?"

"Where are you?"

"You checking up on me, Big Brother?"

"No, nothing like that. I just ended a phone call from Silas. He wants to see us at his office tomorrow at one PM. Is that okay with you?"

"Wait; let me check my busy schedule." She laughed. "Is it important?" There was the sound of muffled voices over the phone. "Yeah, I can be there."

"Thanks Alex – and be careful. Something doesn't sound right about it. If Caesar is there, tell him I said to guard you."

"Paris, I can't do that," she whispered over the phone.

"Yes, you can. Isn't he an ex-Seal? If necessary, tell him why. Or, put him on the phone, and I'll tell him."

"You're starting to scare me. Okay, I'll explain why you're worried. Are you going to tell Elizabeth if you see her?"

"If I can. She's had a rough day. I may be listening more than explaining."

"Alright. I'll probably see you tomorrow at the lawyer's office."

"You going to be late tonight?"

"No," she said, "early to bed and early to rise, if I'm going to be there at one. I've got things to do tomorrow."

I thought about calling Silas, and requesting a bodyguard for Alex. "Do them with Caesar."

"Paris, lighten up. I'll see you tomorrow." She disconnected.

I did a little more brooding, and then deciding that my bad mood was useless, jumped in the car and drove to Russell Springs.

I arrived at five o'clock, and realized that I had two hours to kill, so I went shopping.

_Why doesn't life come with an instruction book?_ I thought. Couldn't there be a chapter on what to buy a beautiful woman who is in a bad mood? Why didn't parents have the sense to tell their young sons what made women happy? Was it jewelry, chocolates, a trip to the Bahamas? Was it the expense of the gift? Was it good to buy something practical?

I kept looking. I finally stopped at a shop that sold antiques, and browsed around. Certainly, I could find something here. I sifted through some of the antique jewelry.

Suddenly, I saw what I felt was the right gift for her. It was an old, ornate necklace made of gold. It had an intricate rendition of a doe in an oval onyx pendant suspended from it. The deer had amber chips in the place of eyes. The hooves were made of silver. Whoever formed the piece had lavished loving care upon it. I looked on the back of the disk. Except for the maker's mark, it was blank.

Perfect. I thought. I'll get it engraved with her name later.

I took it to the clerk who named a price that, at other times; I would have choked at. "For that price," I complained, "you should gift wrap it in gold."

"It's a valuable antique, sir, and the price is fair. I tell you what, I'll do something better." She fetched a plush, velvet lined jewelry box from another display case. "There you go. No charge."

I sighed and used my credit card. I hoped that Silas would deposit the funds soon, because this would strain my credit limit, and I still might be able to encourage Elizabeth to go out this evening. I decided to hit the ATM for some cash.

Fully armed with gift and money, I set out for the Kentucky B&B, and promptly became lost. After some fruitless driving around, I went to the hospital and tried to retrace the route that Elizabeth had traveled when we had lunch. I finally found the place, after asking for directions at a service station, and arrived one minute before seven o'clock. I rushed into the entrance and looked frantically around. I finally found her huddled at the corner of one of the big sofas in the living room. She looked wonderful, but a little forlorn. I crossed over to the sofa and sat beside her.

"Hi. Why the sad face?"

"I had a really tough day at the hospital." She looked away from me at the living room window.

I turned her around to look at me. "Want to talk about it?"

"Maybe – no, I guess it comes with the job."

"Well, perhaps this will cheer you up." I handed her the jewelry box.

"What's this?" she asked with apprehension.

"A little piece of our secret place in the woods." I smiled at her.

She opened the box and stared incredulously at the necklace, and then she started to cry.

I didn't know what to do. I had imagined smiles, not tears. I hoped I had not done something stupid, so I did the only thing I could think of. I put my arm around her, and laid her head onto my chest.

"I'm sorry. I thought it would make you happy."

She pulled back. "Wha – You big, sweet, lunk-head. Of course it makes me happy." She was laughing and crying at the same time. "It's just that – everything that happened at work, and now this – it was just overwhelming."

"Okay, what happened at the hospital? Tell me."

She became quiet and sad again. "I had an emergency patient this morning. It was a little girl. I couldn't save her. It was a clear case of child abuse. I had to report it, and the parents tried to stop me. The security guards got involved, and it turned into a big mess. The parents were arrested, and it got on the news."

"Oh. That's hard. No wonder you're distressed."

"The worst of it is how I felt. I was enraged at what they had done to that child. I wanted to punish them. That is one aspect of being an emergency room doctor that I have difficulty in being objective about. Unfortunately, it happens all too often. I don't know if I can bear it again. I may have to change specialties."

"From the way that the people at the hospital talk about you, it's clear to me that they respect you a lot."

"Paris, I was so angry I could have killed those monsters, those, so-called parents. How does that make me better than they are?"

"I suppose it makes you human. We all have a monster lurking inside us. I saw it more than once in Iraq. People, who under normal circumstances are rational and humane, devolve into raging animals under extraordinary stress. You're not a bad person, quite the opposite, in fact."

She stayed in my arms, obviously thinking. "Why do you make me feel so good?"

"I could ask the same of you. Here, let me put on your necklace."

I removed the necklace from the case, and brushed back her fine shining hair from her shoulders. My fingers contacted the satiny skin of her throat as I fastened the pendant around her neck. The touch of her skin made my heart speed up. My throat was tight, and I had trouble breathing.

"There. It looks beautiful on you," I said with a husky voice.

She clutched the heavy weight of the chain around her neck. "Paris, this is too expensive. I can't accept this."

"Why not? If it's not now, I'll just give it to you later. It's for you and only for you, no one else."

"Paris, you may make a good salary, but even a good salary has limits. I thank you, but I think you should take it back."

"Beth, is there anywhere here where we can walk and talk? I mean, away from an audience?" I looked at the people who were glancing at us, some with an amused expression, and some with a wistful one.

'There's a flower garden walkway out back."

"Good. Let's go have a private conversation in the garden, and if you still want me to take the necklace back, I'll hold it for another time."

"Okay."

We went out as the sun was setting, and strolled down the flowered walkway at the back of the building, toward the pasture.

"You're right about one thing," I said, "if it was just my salary, I never would have been able to afford that necklace. Even so, I would have bought you something as nice. There's no difference in my intentions, just the cost of the gift. What you don't know, is that our parents left Alex and I a substantial sum of money when they died, much more than we will ever need. If I can't use the money to make someone happy, then, what's it for? Besides," I stopped and gently turned her to face me. I looked into her eyes. "It's what the gift means to us, Elizabeth, not the cost."

Her eyes lowered, staring at my chest. "Paris, I don't believe this. We've only known each other for – what is it? – four days. How can this be happening? How can I feel the way I do? I don't know you and you don't know me. Yet I feel I've known you for a long time."

I gently lifted her head with my finger so I could look into her eyes. "There's one way to solve that. A lot of time together, as much time as we can squeeze out, to get to know each other."

I dropped my hand and we continued toward the pasture. "So, in the interest of full disclosure, I need to tell you a few things. Maybe after I get through, you'll run screaming back to the B&B."

"I don't think so, tell me."

I told her everything. All about the letter from my father and the strange people haunting my house. I told her that I suspected that my parents' death was murder. I related the strange events that had been happening, and the information I found on Dad's computer. I also mentioned that I wanted Caesar to guard Alex.

She was silent for a moment. "You don't have to worry about Caesar protecting Alex. He's hopelessly in love with her. I just hope she reciprocates. That's strange, too. They've only known each other as long as we have."

"Oh, you don't have to worry about that. She's besotted with him. She's going to be insufferable for a while until she calms down."

"Like us?"

"I'm definitely not calm around you," I said.

"And I'm not, not around you," she replied.

She gazed at the pasture. "We're like those thoroughbreds out there, skittish, and ready to shy at the slightest noise or disturbance."

"In this case, Beth, I want to be like a plow horse. I want to walk a straight furrow, and never falter."

She touched her new necklace. "I'm feeling better. I'm up for dinner, let's go back in the B&B and eat."

"What? No decadent dinner?" I laughed.

"Not tonight, I'll take a rain check."

We went, laughing and holding hands, back to the B&B for dinner.

After dinner, she said that she was tired, and needed sleep, since she was on call at the hospital. We parted at my car. An innocently intended brief kiss goodnight turned into quite a few passionate kisses, which left me breathless.

"You do make me feel good, Paris Fox," she said, smiling and pulling away.

"I do? Then I want more time for us," I replied.

"I promise. There will be time," she said.

We parted reluctantly, after making plans to get back together by the next day or two, and exchanged cell phone numbers.

I drove back to the farm in a state of euphoria, remembering the feel of her lips and the closeness of her body.

After arriving back at the farm, I searched for Alex, and found her in her bedroom. She was getting ready for bed. I knocked on her door.

"Sis? You got time to talk?"

"Sure. Wait a moment while I get decent."

After a while, she opened the door. "Come on in." She hopped up on her bed. I sat beside her.

"Just like when we were kids. Remember?" she asked.

"I remember."

"So, how did your date go?"

"Fine. More than fine. Elizabeth was in a bad mood, but she got over it, and we talked about a lot of things."

"Things, what things? Tell me everything."

I related the events of the evening, including my gift to Elizabeth. "Do you think she likes me, Sis?"

"What's not to like, Paris. You're so thick at times. Did she say anything about Caesar?"

"I don't know if I should say. It's really up to him."

"Do you want me to torment you to death? Out with it, Big Brother."

"Well, she did say that he's hopelessly in love with you, but you know how it is, she could be wrong." I grinned at her.

She threw a pillow at me. "You're such a shit." She threw herself back on the bed giggling and kicking her heels wildly like a flighty teenager. "I knew it. I'm so happy."

She finally calmed down. "What's this about seeing Silas tomorrow? Is something wrong?"

I told her about what Silas had learned. "He wants to talk to us, but not over the phone."

Alex grabbed a pillow, hugging it. "What does he want to talk about?"

"He wouldn't say. – I think it's about Dad. I think he wants to reveal some of the details he was holding back."

She frowned. "Why now? Didn't he say it was a confidentiality issue?"

"Yeah, but he did say that in a life or death situation, the rules might change."

Her eyes grew wide. "What could have happened to make him change his mind?"

I shrugged. "He only suggested meeting after I told him about the trespassers and the strange information we've turned up. I think he's worried."

Alex flopped onto her back, still hugging the pillow. "I don't need to think about this right now. I'll sleep on it and we can worry about it tomorrow."

"Okay, good night." I rose and walked to her door.

Her voice halted me at the threshold. "Paris?"

I turned my head to look at her. "Yes?"

"I wish this would all go away – disappear. I have this feeling that I've got a chance for something good, something that will last for my whole life, and I don't need this crap messing it up."

I nodded. "Me too, Alex – Me too."
Chapter 10

### Guns and Lawyers

The day of the meeting with the lawyer wasn't one of Kentucky's finest, overcast, and unseasonably cool. The forecast was for rain. _The farmers will be happy._ I thought.

Elizabeth was swamped at the hospital, and Caesar was taking their father to a medical center, so Alex and I were free to accomplish some pressing tasks.

In the morning hours, I managed to stockpile some more material that I could use to satisfy Harvey in case he became insistent that I return to work. Alex worked with Dad's computer for a while, making copies of the data that I thought Silas might want to see. She eventually grew bored, hopped in her new truck, and went shopping for food. While she was away, I poured over the CAD drawings of the house to try to discover the nature of the unusual construction in the basement. The morning hours seemed to crawl.

When Alex returned, we stored the groceries in the pantry, and impatiently waited until it was time to leave.

We decided to take the new truck to the law office, and left early. On the way, the storm broke and the road was soon awash in sweeping bursts of driving rain. The truck's windshield wipers were barely able to keep up with the demand.

"I think we should have brought an umbrella," I said.

"Are you kidding? We should have built an ark. We're gonna get soaked, and I'm wearing sandals." We'd both dressed in lightweight spring clothing for the meeting. We were going to get wet.

A while later we both stood dripping in the foyer, until a secretary came to escort us into Silas' office.

He sat behind a large modern desk that held phone, computer and pictures. The normal office items cluttered the surface. Bookcases, containing rows of legal books, lined the office from floor to ceiling. Framed documents boasting numerous licenses, diplomas, and awards spaced between the rows, broke the monotony of the books.

"Sit down you two. You look like drowned rats. Why didn't you bring an umbrella? Would you like some coffee?"

"Thank you Silas," I replied. "We asked ourselves the same question, and yes, I would like some coffee to warm up."

He focused on Alex. "How about you, Alex?"

"I could drink a cup," she replied.

The secretary brought a tray containing three steaming cups of coffee with cream and sugar and set it on the desk. She was an attractive middle-aged woman with graying hair and a smile that softened an otherwise severe face.

Silas gestured to the woman. "Paris, Alexandra. Meet my right hand. This is June Marrow, my administrative assistant and legal secretary. June will be able to handle most of your needs if I'm not available."

June shook both our hands and looked expectantly at Silas. He gave a little shake of his head and indicated that she should leave us. She nodded, retired, and closed the office door.

"It seems we are at something of a crossroad here," he began after she left. "I wouldn't have disrupted your lives, unless I was concerned about your safety. You two young people have some difficult challenges ahead."

"Define 'difficult challenges'," I replied.

"Yes," Alex said, "and stop being so obtuse. Start speaking plainly. We're tired of secrets and struggling to understand what's happening to us. Someone needs to give us some honest answers."

Silas leaned back in the office chair and looked briefly at the ceiling. Then he leaned forward, redirecting his attention to us. His eyes searched both our faces. "Very well, you want honest answers. Unfortunately, I'm not sure how honest the answers are. I can only tell you what your father confided in me, and what I've been able to discover from my own sources." He laid a hand, palm down on the desk, turned slightly and tilted his head. His eyes grew narrow. "I believe that you are in danger. Where the threat comes from, I'm not sure, but I suspect it's the Shadow People."

We both looked at him in disbelief. I felt like we were characters who had just entered, stage left, into a grade-B science fiction movie.

"Silas," I said, "this Shadow People crap is just the delusions of a bunch of crazy people on the Internet. I admit that the two nuts I encountered seemed to defy the odds, but there's probably an ordinary, rational explanation. I don't have to go looking for imaginary playmates to explain the real world."

He looked at us for a while, until the silence became uncomfortable. "It may or may not surprise you to know your father believed it – completely. In fact, that's why you're wearing the objects that hang around your neck. He created them to protect you. You are wearing them, aren't you?"

We both involuntarily clutched the medallions.

He was silent, and turned toward the office window staring at the world outside. After a moment, he continued.

"I didn't believe him either when I first met him. If he'd been ranting about Shadow People when I talked to him, I most likely would have politely assured him I would take his case, and then contacted his next of kin to try to get him some medical help. However, he was rational, and he had evidence of some type of shadow underground that intrigued me."

He turned back to look at both of us. "After a while, I began to entertain the notion that he might have discovered something that was wholly outside my personal experience, and completely outside what we consider normal. To understand his mental state, and the nature of the puzzles you are facing, you must set aside your disbelief and accept that the world is a lot stranger than most people realize. There are many wonders in God's creation."

I looked at Alex. She nodded. "Okay, we're listening."

Silas leaned back in his chair and began. "According to your father, the Shadows are human genetic aberrations, some kind of split from humanity that was an adaptation to the need to avoid violent confrontation. He maintained that the Shadows affected the visual fields of the minds of normal humans. It wasn't that they weren't real. It was as if a normal human mind slid past them when it tried to focus on them. Normal persons could not see them unless they willed it. He said that the sensation was like the mind was denying that they existed. He also stated that he and other people, who he would not name, had physical proof that this was possible. Therefore, for all practical purposes, the Shadows do not exist to the normal human world.

"Apparently, this Shadow culture views the whole human race as servants, serfs who exist only to provide for them. He also said that the Shadows have not evolved as a culture. Their society has remained static from the times of the middle ages. In other words, they have a very feudal culture."

He paused, and waited for our reactions.

It was hard to divorce my mind from its skepticism. His whole dialogue was not rational, yet I had experienced some irrational events in the past few days that had, to a certain extent, modified my thinking.

"What proof do you have?" Alex asked.

"Only your father and his word, which I value very highly," he replied.

"What do you mean?" Alex asked. "Did my father give you some documents or evidence of the existence of these Shadows?"

"No, I mean your father was the proof."

"Explain that," I said.

Silas nodded. "Gladly. – I believe your father found a way to use some of the abilities of the Shadows. I know that he acquired fantastic capabilities in financial matters, and was able to predict events that affected the financial world before they occurred. I also know that he was able to influence people's decisions. He could ask them to do things that they ordinarily wouldn't agree to do, and they would do what he wanted."

Placing his forearms on the desk top, he leaned forward and stared intently at us. "Your father became a very scary man, and he was aware of that fact. He agonized over the implications of his abilities, and suffered several crises of conscious about it. Before his death, we became very close friends, and we had numerous talks about his situation and his concerns for your safety. I know that some of this can be explained by recourse to a rational argument, but you didn't see him as I did. It was plain that something extraordinary occurred in his life. I finally believed that the Shadows are real, and they pose a danger to anyone who knows of their existence."

I sat silent. I looked around the ordinary, solid law office, and thought that the whole package was somehow surreal. The books, the plaques, and the decor, all screamed respectability and rationality. Silas, on the other hand, was spouting the kind of conspiracy theory that belonged in some underground journal, the kind of rumor that was xeroxed to willing participants, who sucked in the nonsense, and cowered in their fortified bedrooms. It was not an auspicious start to a dialogue.

I cleared my throat. "Ah, Silas, you realize that this is not entirely sane, don't you?"

"Miserably," he said earnestly, "but you wanted the truth, and I'm telling you what I believe to be the truth."

Alex looked skeptical. "So, why didn't you tell us this sooner?"

"I couldn't. When we first met, I had a legal colleague with me as a witness. In addition, at the time I was under the impression your father did not want you to know Jenny was not your birth mother. I was not about to reveal what I am telling you in front of someone who worked with me. I know how irrational it sounds."

He looked distressed.

I took pity on him. "Okay, Silas. Relax. – Alex, I propose we suspend our disbelief, and let Silas continue with his story."

Alex' lips were set in a grim line. "Okay,"

"I guess I didn't start this carefully enough," he said. "I'm sorry to have bombarded you with things that would cause you to doubt me, but you must realize I'm only interested in protecting you. I feel I owe a debt to your father."

"Why do you feel you owe my father?" I asked.

"It's a long story," he replied, "and it's unimportant. Just take my word for it. I would do anything for your father – or now, you. I know now, that you are both aware that certain persons, people who might be blood relatives are disappearing. This could be your fate. I don't want you to meet the same end. Regardless of the nature of the culture your father called the Shadows, from what I have been able to determine, they are directly involved in these disappearances, and they want to abduct you next."

"Why would they want us?" I asked.

"We – your father and I – thought that the woman who gave birth to you was a Shadow."

"Wait a minute," Alex exclaimed. "This doesn't make sense. How could she be a Shadow? I thought normal people couldn't see them."

"You can see them, can't you?" I had a sinking feeling. I felt that I knew where he was going with this, but my mind refused to consider the implications. Silas spoke again. "Oh, the Shadows can let people see them if they will it, but their abilities seem to be reflexive. That is, they normally remain concealed. They must will themselves to be seen. – Understand, what I'm telling you is what your father confided to me. I haven't any knowledge as to how this could be occurring, or what kind of abnormal abilities could be employed to accomplish it."

We all remained silent for a while, each brooding in thought. Finally, I spoke. "Okay, Silas, I believe you're telling us what you think to be true, but if we spent our lives 'jumping at Shadows', we would lead miserable ones. I for one have a difficult time believing this. Even if I did, how could I defend myself against something I can't see?"

Silas looked exasperated. "Oh. That's the point. Don't you understand? You can see them. You and Alex are half-Shadow. In fact, you're probably the only protection that a normal human could possibly have against them. That may be why they want to take you. – Although you don't seem to have their abilities. However, I think there is something about you that may be latent. – You both have a charisma. – You seem to be able to draw people to you without thinking about it. – If your father could possess some of their powers as a human, think what you could do. Maybe you could use what he learned to defend yourselves." He looked pleadingly at us, as though we could jump right up and conjure a disappearing act, then run out to do battle with the enemy. I was a little stunned and speechless.

"Ridiculous!" Alex said. "I've never disappeared in my life. – Silas, this is crazy. Do I look like I'm not human? I admit, we've had some unusual experiences recently, but surely, they have a rational explanation. We don't have to resort to some paranoid delusion to understand what happened. Maybe before he died, Dad went through an episode of mental aberration – I don't know – but I do know that Paris and I are as normal as anyone else is. How can you expect us to believe this?"

"I knew this would be hard," he replied. "I suppose that you have no reason to believe me, but I'm grateful that you've heard me out. Maybe I can make you understand, by explaining my attitude and the reasons for this meeting.

He took a deep breath. "Okay. – I'm a lawyer. I deal in facts. Let's look at the facts. One, you're being harassed by some strange people who the police, apparently, are unable to see. Two, people who look like you are being abducted and then they disappear, all across the country. Three, the same woman who gave birth to you, appears to be the birth mother of these missing people. Four, your parents may have been murdered by persons unknown, or at least their deaths may have been the result of the actions of these people. And, five, your father appeared to have unexplainable abilities, at least abilities I was unable to understand, a few years before his death. Is that enough facts for you?"

Alex's face looked white. I felt subdued. His words had been staring us in the face for a while. We'd refused to consider it, dismissed it as unimportant. I felt that we'd adopted a head-in-the-sand attitude, hoping that we could wait, and our problems and doubts would solve themselves.

Maybe he was right; maybe we should be paranoid. Perhaps someone was stalking us, and preparing to whisk us off to some place where we could be forced to obey their agenda.

The thought gave me cold chills. It was not normal; not the safe, sane world we had been brought up to believe in. Things like Shadows did not exist in that world. His logical words had created doubts.

Could this be real? Could the universe contain entities like the Shadows? The universe was big and unknowable. Humans were less than blips, less than the smallest particle of matter in the immensity of the cosmos. In universal terms, anything was possible. Why not Shadows, why not humans who had evolved differently?

"Okay, Silas, assuming we believe you. Assuming we need to do something to protect ourselves. What do you have in mind?"

"Thank you. I was afraid that I had lost your confidence. I didn't want to alienate you or your sister, but you needed to know what I suspected. As to what I recommend, you have considerable wealth. You can afford to hire protection. I know some people who might become allies, who have as many reasons to oppose these people as you. In the final event, you may want to leave Kentucky, to assume new identities. I can help you with that."

"Leave home? I don't think so," Alex said. "I'm not about to abandon my home. There has to be a better solution. I'd kill them before I let them chase me out of my house. If anything, Silas, you'd be more useful in figuring a way to defend us from a murder charge if it comes to that."

I thought about what she'd said. She'd called the farm home. I realized now it was my home, also. I'd been denying it, but my roots were here. I would not abandon it.

"No, Silas is right," I said, "so far they've only attempted to intimidate us, nothing that justifies the use of lethal force. However, if they try to abduct us, the gloves come off. In the meantime, let's see how they react to a face full of mace, pepper spray or a Taser."

"Be careful," Silas warned. "Your father intimated that there were some of these Shadows who had unusual abilities. They could coerce others to do their bidding, or in some cases, actually change matter to become something else. Whether this is true, I can't say. But you should be cautious. I'll contact the people I mentioned and arrange for surveillance, for as much good as it will do. I plan to make other preparations which I'll not reveal to you at this time, to avoid warning the Shadows." He thought for a moment.

"Oh yes, I forgot to mention. Your accounts have been compromised. This was another reason for my concern for your safety. There was an attempt to penetrate the financial institutions in which they are held. We've taken steps to make the accounts more secure, including changing the passwords on the accounts. I have the new passwords in my safe, along with other documents you might need. I suggest you take them to your house, because it seems, for some reason, to be secure from the Shadow People. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Yes," I said, "I want to buy a handgun for Alex. I will need a permit to carry a concealed weapon. I also plan to purchase mace and a Taser. Can you help me get a permit?"

"Yes, I'll get right on it. Is there anything else?"

"No," I said. "Alex?"

"No. – Silas, please keep us informed."

"I'll see you two Friday, and let you know what progress I've made. Meanwhile, you should work on acquiring the same abilities that your father had. You may need them."

"Acquiring his abilities?" I said. "How can we do that? Why should we even attempt it?"

"Your father was not a Shadow, yet he was able to accomplish things that only Shadows can do. You're genetically a Shadow. It should be easier for you. In the end, it may be the only thing that can protect you."

I thought about it. The idea made me very uneasy. "Maybe," I said.

"Think very hard about it. That's all I'm asking."

We promised to be back by Friday. Outside, the sun peeked out of the rain clouds. We got back in Alex's truck and turned toward the farm.

"Stop at the gun store," I said. "We've got to get you a weapon."

She stopped the truck at the end of the street and turned to look at me. "Paris, do you really believe any of this?"

I paused. "Not necessarily," I replied. "I have an uneasy feeling, though. I just think it would be prudent to get you comfortable with firearms, just in case."

"In case of what? Paris, I'm glad you're not as crazy as he is, but do we need to carry guns?"

"Not until you're competent with fire arms, and maybe never. It's a skill I want you to learn. You never know when you'll need it."

"Okay. I can live with that, – I guess. – Just don't go all paranoid on me."

"Not likely to happen, Sis."

In Kentucky, you didn't need a permit to purchase a gun, and registration was not required. Kentuckians take their Second Amendment rights seriously. We browsed through the gun store, looking at the displays. The store had an impressive array of handguns, and a Smith&Wesson M&P Compact 9mm caught my attention. It would complement the Glock, because I could carry it concealed. However, I still hadn't found the right pistol for Alex, so I decided to ask for help. I approached the store clerk. "I need some help finding the right hand gun for my sister," I indicated Alex, who was gazing around the store a little nervously.

He looked at her and saw her obvious discomfort. "Not easy around firearms, is she?"

"No. I need something for her personal protection, but not something that will intimidate her."

"I think I understand. Come with me."

He led me to another display that showcased some Saturday night specials. I had discounted them as not worthy of attention. He took out a small handgun and laid it on the counter.

"This is a Ruger LCP. Thirty-eight caliber, semiautomatic, clip fed. Small barrel, not good for accuracy at long range, but hell on close-up. It'll get their attention. It can be carried in a purse if she needs to."

I studied the weapon. It was sleek and sexy. It would fit her hand, and the short barrel would make for a milder kick. The caliber of the gun would take the bad guys down, rather than piss them off, as a small caliber weapon would.

"I'll take it, and the Smith and Wesson nine millimeter Compact. Do you have Mace and pepper spray? Also I need a couple of Tasers."

He looked at me suspiciously, but didn't make any comments.

He brought out the items, and I bought four cans each of pepper spray and Mace. I also bought two of the Tasers, along with ammunition for the handguns. I paid for the purchases, and we left the store, headed for home.

"Can I see it?" Alex asked.

I hesitated. The weapon was still in its box. I decided that the first lesson in gun safety should start immediately. "You don't want to handle guns casually," I replied. "We should wait until we get home."

"At least let me see it," she said impatiently.

I thought about it. A gun had an effect on people. They were easily intimidated by it and in many cases, afraid to touch it. I wanted Alex to become comfortable with the weapon, but not frightened of it.

"Not until we get home and can handle it properly. You need to learn a lot about weapon safety, and this is not the time or the place."

She appeared annoyed, but stopped short of insisting.

I smiled. "Trust me Alex; I think you'll like it. It fits your personality. Feisty, sleek, ornery, and sexy." I grinned.

She finally smiled. "You'd better be right," she replied, but then paused. "But how can a gun be sexy?"

I shook my head and didn't answer her.

We drove back to the farm, parked the car, and entered the house. I decided that the best place to start the safety lessons would be in the back porch, so we took our purchases back to the rear of the house. I pulled out the box containing the Ruger and handed it to Alex. "Open it."

She opened the box and stared at the gun. "It's little and shiny but sort of pretty. I like the blue color."

I chuckled. "Little, but powerful, trust me. If you hit someone with this gun, it'll get their attention."

She worried her lip. "I think the Mace or the pepper spray would be better for me."

I thought about it. "In most cases, you would be right. However, if it comes down to a firefight, you need to be ready. If you are afraid of the weapon or hesitate, you'll be the victim and the bad guys will be the victors. You may never need to use this gun, but you need to be prepared to use it if you must, and you need to be prepared to use it safely, in case it's necessary. I want you to know how to do both. Besides, target shooting is fun. I know you, you'll enjoy it."

"What do I do?"

"First, start by removing the gun from the box, and then we'll go from there."

I had her handle the weapon, check that the magazine was clear, the action was empty, and the safety was on.

"The last thing is the safety. If you click it off, you'd better be prepared to shoot something or someone. It's the last resort. Remember that. If the safety is off, the weapon is dangerous, both to you, and to anyone else who is near it."

She was hesitant. She handled the gun like a live, poisonous snake. I demonstrated all of the features of the gun, had her repeat them until the actions became nearly automatic. We went through dry fire drills over and over.

Alex was a quick learner, but firearms drills needed to be learned by muscle memory, and repetition. I demonstrated the proper stance for firing and had her repeat it endlessly. I corrected her behavior often. In a while, she was tired, so we took a break, and I brewed some iced tea.

She sat in the kitchen, watching me prepare the tea. "So, when do I get to shoot something?"

I handed her a glass of tea. "When you're ready. You need to be able to do these drills in your sleep. They must be automatic. When you can take the weapon in your hand, arm it properly, and correctly point it without hesitation, then you'll be ready to fire it. All of the safety procedures must be automatic. This is how we taught the firearm's drills in the Army. You can't take any shortcuts. You must be able to do it the right way every time."

Alex sipped her drink. "Well, I have to admit, I'm more comfortable with it. It fits in my hand like it was made for it. And, to be honest, it does look a little sexy."

I smiled. "We'll need more practice and repetition. When you're ready, you can carry it in the glove box of your truck. Don't put it under the seat or conceal it in the door. To do that, you'll need a concealed carry permit. I don't think you'll need one. If I'm wrong, we can get you one, but I don't think it would be the best thing to have on a date."

"Okay," she said, if we're gonna do this, let's get back to work,"

I extended the lessons to how to determine the gun sight picture, and aiming the weapon. I had her recite the nearby obstructions and items that she could not, or should not shoot, and repeat them under varying conditions.

We spent the most of the day, repeating the lessons. When I was satisfied with her performance, I said, "Okay, if you can repeat this tomorrow, without my coaching, and if we have time, we'll go to the gun range, and you can fire the weapon. Let's call it a day. I have some emails to answer, and, undoubtedly, some additional work to do for Harvey."

"Good. I want to call Caesar."

I carefully didn't mention that I also wanted to call Elizabeth; I didn't want to give her more ammunition with which to tease me. "Right. You call your boyfriend, and I'll get to work."

She looked skeptical, but didn't say anything. We went about our separate tasks. I hit the workstation. Sure enough, Harvey had figured out another project that needed my talents, but the additional work that I had done would almost fit his requirements. With a little tweaking, I could accomplish his request with minimal fuss.

I replied with a future completion date that was reasonable and would satisfy him. Then I started sifting through my other emails. I replied to requests for information, and directed the inquiries that requested a face-to-face meeting to Harvey. Soon I found an email from Tom. He was reporting on the results of his work on Dad's internet habits.

Hi Paris.

I finished looking over the data I copied. I don't know how much good it will do. It seems your father was fixated on this collection of groups that are all over the Internet. A bunch of whackos that are ranting about something they call the Shadow People. He visited numerous sites and requested any information they had. Also, he conducted extensive correspondence with a physics professor at KSU. I could not get the contents of the emails, apparently, your father trashed them, but there were a lot of them. I have the professor's email address if you are interested. Other than that, nothing to report. How are you succeeding in getting the passwords? Do you need my help? Oh, by the way, my band won't have a gig until next month. Tell Alex I'll be getting in touch with her then.

I replied; that yes, I would like him to send the email address, and yes, I would inform Alex. I thanked him again for his efforts, and concluded by hinting at something special for his help.

I didn't want to work on the engineering project, because I desperately wanted to hear Elizabeth's voice again. I called her on my cell phone, but the recorded voice replied that her phone was turned off, and could I leave a voice message? She had indicated that it was a common practice to shut down the cell phones when they were treating patients, so I asked her to call me when she was not busy.

I wandered around the house, and then decided to tackle some of the data that was on Dad's computer. I specifically wanted to know what the weird modifications to the basement meant and if they did anything. I studied the blueprints and text until I got a headache and shut off the computer in disgust.

I finally drifted into the kitchen, and opened the box containing the Smith & Wesson. I cleaned it. I also cleaned Alex's gun. She'd have to be taught to clean it herself.

I took the weapons down to the gun safe and locked them up and took the pepper spray and the Mace into the study and stored it in the desk. Finally, my cell phone rang, and I grabbed it.

"Hi Paris." Elizabeth's mellow voice greeted me on the phone.

I couldn't help it. I felt a sudden rush at the sound of her voice rippled through my body. _God help me. I'm starting to act like an adolescent teenager who has a crush on some hot girl_. The feeling was wonderful.

"Beth, I'm glad to hear from you," I said. "I was just wondering when we could get together again."

I silently cursed myself. Surely, I could say something more clever and sophisticated. Why was I so tongue tied whenever I spoke to her?

"Not tonight," she said. "It was another busy day at the ER. I'm so tired, all I want is to curl up with a hot drink and sleep for a full eight hours."

Here's your chance, I thought. Say something clever about sleeping with her, or comforting her in bed. "I understand. Maybe later." I tried to disguise it, but the disappointment was evident in my voice.

"I'm free all day tomorrow," she said quickly. "Perhaps we could go picnicking or something."

I immediately replied, "How about a walk in the woods along the lake? I'll pack a basket."

"Paris, that would be wonderful," she replied.

My heart went into overdrive. I had finally succeeded in saying something that made her happy. We agreed to meet at the lake, she was going to be home, and had two days off.

I suggested she bring a bathing suit, so we could take a swim later, and she agreed. We said some prolonged goodbyes, and she disconnected. My feelings soared. The world was a wonderful place, and I was the happiest inhabitant of the planet. I exited the room and ran into Alex.

"Called Elizabeth, did you?"

"What makes you think I called Beth?" I replied.

"That big sloppy, loopy smile on your face."

I groaned. "Alex, what am I going to do? I'm hopelessly in love with her. What if she rejects me? How can I cope with that? What do I say to make her understand, and not be terrified by my feelings? Hell, I'm terrified by my feelings. I've never felt about a woman like I feel about Beth. It's frightening."

Her grin morphed into a smile of compassion. "I know the feeling, Big Brother. I feel the same about Caesar. I just happen to know that he feels the same about me. It's strange. We make an imperfect couple, but it doesn't matter. We're linked and there's nothing that will change that. It's a rush. My advice to you is to be you. You don't have to be clever, or witty, you just have to be you. I think that's what she likes about you. As to whether her feelings are the same as yours, only time will tell. I think they are, but I could be wrong."

"I'm happy and miserable at the same time," I replied.

"You could try to be honest," she said.

I looked down at the floor. "I'm afraid she won't understand. She'll run screaming to rid herself of me. I don't understand. I've only known her for a few days. How can I be this way? How can she believe me or feel the same way?"

"I don't know," she replied. "I just know that there's a link between all four of us. Why it happened, or how it happened isn't important. I'm just going with my feelings."

"I wish it was as easy for me."

With her hands on her hips, Alex huffed. "Men! I'll never understand them! You men are such idiots."

I thought about her words. They reflected the opinion I had about women. I couldn't understand them either. Maybe the species was tailored not to understand each other, to make the thrill of finding out so much sweeter. It didn't help. I resolved to listen to her, and to try to be as honest with Elizabeth as I dared.

We talked some more while we prepared dinner, and during the meal, and after, into the late hours. I told her about the email from Tom. We discussed it, but in my mind, nothing was settled. I was still apprehensive. We settled in for sleep.
Chapter 11

### Men Say it First

The next day dawned bright and clear. Fortunately, there was no forecast for rain. After I'd dressed and started breakfast, Alex joined me.

She yawned. "What's the agenda for today?"

"I've got a date with Beth. We're going to the lake. What about you?"

"Thought we'd be going to the firing range today." She looked disappointed but then brightened and smiled. "Don't worry about me. I'll call Caesar, and we'll figure something."

She finished breakfast, and went upstairs to take a shower.

"Take a can of pepper spray with you." I called to her retreating back.

I busied myself in preparing the best picnic lunch I could make from the ingredients in the kitchen and decided to snag a bottle of wine from the wine cellar.

Taking the key from the study, I went down to the basement. Unlocking the closet-spaced wine cellar, I browsed the bottles. While I looked, I noticed something odd about the space. First, it didn't seem large enough to fit with the dimensions of the space in the basement. Second, it was noticeably cooler in the little room.

I wondered if there was an air conditioner hidden in the room, or if it was natural. I dismissed the thought as not relative to my quest.

After agonizing over the wine selections, wondering which one would be suitable for Elizabeth, I finally decided to be cautious, and abandoned the idea of bringing wine.

Locking up the room I went back upstairs, pacing nervously around the house.

I cleaned the breakfast dishes and drifted into the study. I fingered the computers, rearranged the furnishings, and browsed through the contents of the bookcase. Then I resumed my wandering around the rooms.

After I had passed by Alex for the second time, she laughed. "Why don't you get out of here? You're driving me crazy with your prowling. You're acting like a caged tiger."

"It's not time yet."

"Be early, Paris. Just get in your car and go," she said.

I paused in my pacing. I was feeling like I was going to explode with the stress of waiting. I wanted to get in my car and leave, my body yearning to be with Elizabeth again.

My feelings were unlike any I had experienced when I was dating other women, like an adolescent teenager anxious about his first date. The emotions were, at once, frustrating, frightening, and exhilarating. Resolving to get control of myself, a slow drive in the country would be just the thing, and I would be doing something, rather than waiting.

"You're right, Sis. See you later."

I piled all of the items I'd prepared into the car's trunk. After a thought, I went back to the house, and added a picnic blanket to the mix.

I drove at a leisurely pace, slow enough to admire the advancing spring flora. Kentucky could be bleak in the winter, but the spring and summer seasons were glorious assaults of vibrant green.

I passed by the small farms with their houses, mostly white, set well back from the highway. In places, businesses congregated to front the highway and serve the tourists. Gas stations, bait shops, motels and a plentiful sprinkling of churches flashed by.

Occasionally, a road crossed the highway, leading to distant wooded areas, where other farms, county facilities, and some housing tracts were hidden. Soon, the buildings receded, and the wooded areas of the State Park began to crowd the roadway.

Along the way, I daydreamed about Elizabeth. I imagined having her near me not for a day, or a visit, but that I might reach out in the night and touch her, cuddle her. By the time I had imagined the birth of our second child, I was at the park.

I snapped out of my reveries, and followed the route that would take me to the picnic areas where we'd agreed to meet. I passed through the park entrance.

Local residents did not have to pay a fee, so I was waved through. I parked the car, and sat to wait for Elizabeth. I had some time to kill, so I got out of my car, and took a stroll around.

I inhaled the pine scent of the trees, and felt the coolness of the woods. Occasional shafts of sunlight penetrated the foliage, creating pleasing contrasts of light and dark. Life was good, I thought, if only the realities of life didn't interrupt the pleasures of times like this, everything would be a joy.

With that thought, some of the troubles that made my life so complicated started to intrude themselves, but with a conscious effort, I forbade them to sidetrack my good feelings, and headed back to the car. _Later, not today. Today is reserved for good things, things that make life worth living._

When I reached the car, Elizabeth's Jag drove into the parking lot. _Speaking of good things, they just arrived._ I was surprised. I thought that she wouldn't be here for at least another hour.

She saw me and grinned, opening her car door. "I left really early, and to be honest, I didn't obey the speed limits very well."

Like me, she was wearing jeans and a sturdy blue cambric shirt. The front of the shirt was slightly unbuttoned, showing a tantalizing glimpse of her cleavage where the necklace I'd given her was displayed. The sight warmed me.

I smiled. "It's good to see you." I walked over to her car, and enveloped her in a big bear hug. It developed into a kiss and a mutual embrace. We broke the clutch after a time. I was breathless and trembling.

She smiled and said in a husky voice, "So where are we going?"

I replied with a bigger smile, "I think you know."

She grinned. "Yes, I suppose I do."

I took a backpack loaded with some drinks and snacks from the car's trunk, and strapped the picnic blanket to it. I shouldered the pack, and we strolled toward the beckoning woods and trail.

Elizabeth had her own backpack across her shoulders leaving her hands and arms free. I took her hand, and she didn't object; she just gripped mine firmly. We talked about casual things, about her work, and my quest to settle my parents' affairs. We talked about Alex and Caesar, about where that relationship was headed. We marveled at the beauty and peace of the woods.

As we walked and talked, she would periodically look into my eyes. In those moments, gazing at those violet eyes, I felt my heart accelerate, and my throat tighten. God! She was so beautiful, lovely to look at, and even lovelier inside.

We walked along the trail to the point at which we could turn to the hidden clearing. Leaving the trail we carefully made our way through the screening saplings, finally arriving at the amphitheater-like clearing and shrugged off our backpacks.

The quiet peace of the site and the blue expanse of the lake calmed me. I sat beside her and just gazed out at the lake. Her scent was like newly mowed grass, fresh out-of-the-oven baked bread, and every inch of her seemed delectable and edible.

My mind began to fidget. If any time was the time, I thought, it had to be now. Now, while we were at peace. My body roiled with anxiety, and butterflies rustled in my abdomen, but I couldn't wait any longer. I had to know, even though I dreaded the answer. My mind screamed to me that it was improbable that she would reciprocate my feelings. I could just imagine the pain if she rejected me, but I could live with it. Couldn't I? We looked at each other, and at that moment, I knew I had to say it.

"I'm in love with you Beth. I can't hide it or pretend anymore. I don't want to intimidate you or make you distance yourself from me, but it's too deep. I can understand if you want to draw back from it, it will hurt, but it won't change."

She sighed. "About time."

"What?"

"About time you said it," she said, and laughed.

"You mean..."

"I've been checking my pulse daily to make sure I was still alive." She laughed again.

"Then why..?"

"It's an unwritten courtship rule. The man has to declare it first. Then, we can reciprocate. As for me, I think I've been in love with you since the first time we met, when you kissed my hand."

I stared at her, stunned. My heart leaped into my throat. I was suddenly wildly joyous. My brain went dizzy from the emotions flooding through my body. I had a hard time finding my voice.

"Beth, do you realize how crazy we are? We've only known each other for a few days. How can this be happening?"

"Paris, do you believe in 'soul mates'?"

"I haven't heard the term before."

"It means two people who were destined for each other. People who, as soon as they meet, know, just know, that without doubt, they were destined to be together. Maybe it is crazy," she said, "but I don't care, because it feels so wonderful." Her eyes glistened.

The sight triggered an onrush of desire and need. I moved to her and enveloped her. I captured her mouth, feeling her tender lips open to my kiss, the tips of our tongues touching. Then I thought of a question and drew back.

"Does this mean that we have progressed to the 'dear' and 'darling' stage?" I said.

"Yes dear," she replied, laughing. Her eyes flashed with diamond highlights.

I grabbed her and started kissing her mouth her cheeks, her eyes, her nose, but especially her mouth. With each kiss, I murmured dear, dearest, darling, wonderful-one, any word I could think of that expressed how much I loved her.

She broke away, holding me at arms length. "Hold it, Paris. We've got some talking to do."

I controlled myself. I wanted to sink into those eyes, and never emerge, but I knew she was right.

"Huh, yes." I said.

"You know this doesn't change who we are. I'm still a doctor, and you're still an engineer with obligations to both your job and your family. If anything, it only complicates our lives."

"I know, but it makes it easier for me. You love me. Regardless of any other problem we might encounter, that makes a difference. Nothing is more important than loving you. I can cope with anything as long as I know you love me. We'll find a way to be together, I promise. Even if I have to resign from my job, I will make this work."

She sighed. "Paris, a candle that burns brightly, only burns for a little while. We need to give this some time to settle down, to become less passionate, to become more comfortable, then we can make decisions objectively."

I thought about her words. I didn't want to be objective. I wanted to hold her and be as passionate as I could be. I gradually let my feeling calm, realizing that she had a point. I couldn't make a rational decision with the turmoil that drove me.

"All right." I said. "We do need to talk about this. Understand, it doesn't change the way I feel about you, but you're right, we do need to come to an understanding, as much as I hate to admit it. But, I want you. I want to be with you. I want us to be a couple. I want to cherish you for the rest of my life."

Her eyes grew soft. She replied, "I think you should kiss me again. I want you too."

I didn't hesitate. I took her in my arms and began to taste every exposed part of her body, her hands, her neck, her ear lobes, and especially her lips. The scent exuding from her body inflamed my passion. It affected a primitive portion of my brain, a part that said this is your mate. This is your life partner. This is the bearer of your offspring. Engulf her with your desire. I started caressing her sides, her legs, her arms, her back, and especially her face. After a while, when my caresses had strayed near to her breasts, and I pressed close to her body, she pushed me away and sat up.

"Hold it, time out." She closed her eyes, and grasped for breath.

I stopped. "What's wrong? Did I offend you?"

"No. I need to calm down, and we need to have another talk."

"Talk. Talk about what?"

"Sex, we need to talk about sex." She said, and she took a few deep breaths.

"When two people love each other," I replied, "love making is hard to control. I'm sorry if I took it to extremes."

She got that soft look again. "I know. I want it too. But I'm not using birth control. I don't want to go that far. I don't want to lose control, as much as my body cries for it. I'm afraid. That act would be irrevocable, and I'm not ready for it."

I thought for a moment. "If we ascend to that level, I want it to be accompanied by an orchestra. I want a room with a king sized bed, covered in satin sheets. I want flowers covering every inch of space. I want it to last for an eternity. I want it to be a perfect time. One that we will remember for the rest of our lives."

"Oh God, you're such an incredible romantic."

I grinned. "Good. Can we get back to necking, at least? I promise to be a gentleman."

She wrapped her arms around my neck, and delivered a passionate kiss. She leaned back and gazed into my eyes. "God. I love you."

"I said it first." I protested.

"Dumb male," she replied.

"Duplicitous female," I rejoined.

"Kiss me you fool." She laughed.

We spent a long time, alternating between passionate necking and discussions about our mutual feelings. We broke for refreshments and resumed. I was so happy I could have cried. After a while, we packed up the backpacks and headed back to the picnic area.

When we reached the cars, I opened the trunk and set out the food on a convenient picnic table. We ate lunch at the table and resumed our public demeanor. Ostentatious displays of passion were not the acceptable norm in Kentucky. Finally, after we had packed up the remains and deposited them in the car, I turned to her and said, "Care to go for a swim?"

"I'd better," she replied, "I smell like you."

"Well the feeling is mutual, I smell like you, but to be honest, I enjoy the scent."

"Well, so do I, but I know if I'm wearing the smell of Paris on my body, I won't be able to sleep tonight."

"Beth, I'll never sleep another night without thinking of you."

We drove our separate cars to the marina. We parked, and Beth disappeared into the bathroom to change to a bathing suit. I had my trunks on beneath my jeans, so I was the first to approach the swimming area. I took the picnic blanket with me and spread it on the sloping shore.

The water looked cool and clear. I could see the sandy bottom of the lake. The bottom grew less distinct as the depth of the lake increased toward the swim dock.

Beth finally emerged from the bathhouse. She was wearing a one-piece black swimsuit that seemed to be a part of her body. She may as well be wearing nothing, I thought, naked would be less provocative. When she approached me, I said, "Did someone paint that suit on you?"

"Don't you like it?"

"Oh yeah."

She grinned. "Last one to the swim dock has to forfeit a wish." She ran to the water.

I followed. Her words promised a world of possibilities. She didn't know whom she was challenging. I had been on the swim team in college, and I knew how to race.

I cleaved the water and with powerful crawl strokes swam toward the dock, glancing to my right after each stroke. Elizabeth swam like an eel. She moved amazingly fast through the water. I struggled to stay even. We matched each other. Even though my longer strokes and more powerful legs gave me an edge, I must have been out of shape, because we both reached the swim dock at the same time.

"You swim like a fish," I gasped, trying to catch my breath, "but I beat you."

"You did not. I beat you."

"No you didn't."

"Did too."

"Did not."

We both laughed. I looked in those almond-shaped violet eyes and melted.

"You are the most wonderful woman in the world," I said softly. "Where did you learn to swim like that?"

"I competed in college. The swimsuit is a competition one, less drag in the water.'" She laughed. "You didn't stand a chance."

"Hah. I'll have you know that I was on my college's swim team, too. Just wait until I get back in shape, Miss Rowan. You won't be able to catch me. Can we call it a tie?"

"Not hardly, I beat you. I get a wish."

"No, I get a wish." I replied.

She swept a wave of water over my head. I grabbed her and we began a ducking contest. As we playfully struggled to drown each other, her silky legs and body flashed past my thighs and abdomen. Her breasts were periodically crushed against my face. Each touch of her hands and body sent tingling waves of desire through me. The pleasure of her flesh caused an immediate response in my groin. If I was ever going to be a gentleman, I thought, it had better be now.

I gathered myself, grabbed her waist with both hands, and with a powerful kick, lifted her clean out of the water, depositing her on the side of the dock.

"What was that for? I was having fun dunking you. You chickened out."

"Just trying to be a gentleman," I grumbled.

She had a mischievous grin. "Get up on the dock. I want to kiss you."

I groaned. "Not right now. Give me a few minutes."

Her grin got wider. "Got a problem, have you?"

I looked at her. "Nothing special, just a sexy desirable woman whom I love beyond reason, driving me crazy."

"That wasn't a drive," she replied, "that was just a short putt. You wait until the time is right, and I'll make that problem pale in comparison."

"Congratulations," I replied, "you've succeeded in making my few minutes in the water last a lot longer. Now my imagination is working in overdrive. Give me a break will you?"

She relented. "Shall we talk about work, or the lake or something less intimate?"

"That would help."

"How about I get my wish?"

"Now you're pushing it" I lifted myself out of the water, and sat beside her on the dock.

"I guess I didn't try hard enough." She grinned, glancing at my crotch.

"Iron willpower," I replied, "don't do that again, if you plan to remain a virgin."

"So, who said I was a virgin?"

"You're not?" I said pretending to be shocked. "I am dismayed, Miss Rowan."

"Unless you're blind, Mr. Fox I'm an attractive woman with an active libido."

I felt a brief stab of jealousy. "Were you in love?" I cringed.

"Almost. – I never got to find out. He was killed in a mountain climbing accident in the Himalayas. It was a sad time of my life."

She looked in my eyes. "I think now, that it really wasn't love, not the same as the love I feel for you. That's so powerful it makes me want to cry."

Waves of tenderness, desire, and longing rushed through me. I took her in my arms and crushed her to me. I kissed her passionately. _Kentucky be damned_ , I thought; _this is the woman I love_.

She responded with a passion of her own. Her lips parted, and briefly, our tongues met. I abruptly broke the kiss, groaned, and jumped back into the water.

"Let's head on back," I laughed, "or I'll never be able to get dry."

She laughed and slipped into the water. We leisurely swam back, holding hands all the way. We waded through the water at the shore.

By that time, my problem had diminished and I didn't feel embarrassed emerging from the lake.

We walked back to the picnic blanket, plopped down, and dried each other with the one beach towel I had brought.

Beth laid her head on my shoulder and I put my arm around her.

"Now about my wish," she said.

I sighed. "Okay, you win. Anything."

"Anything?"

I grinned. "I'm rich, you know. Houses, cars, boats, diamonds, anything. They're yours. Go ahead. Take advantage of me."

"You're not gonna like it."

"Maybe not, but I'm helpless. Go ahead take your best shot."

"Humm, that's quite a long list. But, I've made my decision. I'll settle for only taking one car, the next time we go out."

"Done. We'll take the Camaro."

"That hunk of Detroit iron? I don't think so. We'll take my Jaguar."

"Woman, you wound my male pride. What's wrong with the Camaro? It's a man-car."

"Let's find a deserted road, and see who does the quarter faster, wise guy."

"Okay, a compromise. I'll buy us a new car, and we'll share it."

"Interesting idea, just as long as I get to pick the car."

"Hey. I'm buying it, I get to pick it."

We went on bantering and laughing. It finally devolved into a tickling contest, and then a kissing contest that I lost, thanks to the perversity of my anatomy.

We finally agreed. I could use the Camaro for some dates; she would use the Jag for others. It'd been a glorious day. The sun kissed the horizon and we reluctantly decided to decamp.

We loaded up the cars, and after a lingering series of kisses, agreed to meet tomorrow and she'd drive. We went our separate ways.

I drove back to the farm, not really seeing the scenery, lost in the warm feelings that the day had inspired. I was in love with her. She was in love with me. The world was a wonderful place. I was awash in desire. It couldn't get any better.

I pulled up to the front of the house and removed all the picnic items from the trunk, carried them into the house and deposited them in the kitchen.

I searched the house for Alex, meaning to talk about my day, but she was not home. I finally resigned myself to making a lonely dinner, and busied myself in the kitchen.

As I was sitting to enjoy my meal, I heard the sound of a vehicle at the front of the house. I got up from the table and went to the front door. Alex was just getting ready to unlock the door when I opened it for her.

"Hi, Sis," I said, "how was your day?"

"Wonderful," she replied. "Caesar is in love with me. He told me. I'm the happiest woman on the planet."

I was a little deflated. I could see that she would be gushing about Caesar for a long time, and my news would have to wait.

"What is it about women, that the male has to say it first?" I muttered.

"Unwritten rule," she said. "The male has to lay it on the line." Her eyes grew wide. "Wait a minute, you told Elizabeth, didn't you."

"Well, yes," I replied. I was a little embarrassed.

"You're blushing. What did she say?"

I sighed. "She's in love with me."

"Woman's crazy." She laughed. "Seriously, – I told you she loved you. Caesar knew it all along. Brother dear, we are in really serious trouble."

"Trouble, what kind of trouble?"

"We have to make a life decision here and now. We haven't got a choice. Either we continue with our previous plans, or we disrupt our entire lives to be with the ones we love."

Her statement unsettled me. I realized that she was right, but I had never considered it seriously. There were too many conflicts looming over our relationships and our commitments. It would take a long time to unravel them.

I knew what I wanted. I wanted Elizabeth. I had a simpleminded desire toward that goal. Everything else was a distraction. The death of my parents, the letter, the nebulous threat that Silas tried to portray, the supposed danger from abduction, all of those things were minor compared to the feelings I had for her. Yet Alex was right. We were going to have to make a decision, a decision that would affect our entire lives.

"You really know how to dampen a mood, don't you?" I replied.

"Sorry, Brother. If it's any consolation, I've got the same problems. The difference is that I've made my decision. I am afraid that I won't find any other person who makes me feel the way that Caesar does. This feels like a once in a lifetime opportunity. I'm grabbing it with both hands, and the hell with the consequences."

I frankly admired her courage and determination. It was a hard decision to make. A few days ago, our plans were set, and our futures had a goal. Now, the unknown loomed, and our futures were opaque.

My logic told me to plan, to take it slow, to see if this was a lasting relationship. My feelings urged me to a different course, to take the plunge without fear of the consequences. The two conflicting directions served to diminish my ardor. Do I take the course of certainty, or do I trod the path paved in peril?

_Hah! No contest_.

"Okay," I said. "Seems like we're both nuts, but I agree. So how did your date go?"

Alex grinned. "Would you believe he was a perfect gentleman? Must be one of those British things. After he told me, I was ready to ravish him on the spot, but he fended me off, maintaining that these things should not be consummated in the back seat of a pickup. It was frustrating, but it was very, very sexy. Wait until I get him in bed." There was a determined look on her face.

I was a little surprised. I hadn't realized that Alex could be so sexually aggressive; it just highlighted everything I did not know about women. It also caused a slight uneasiness. The idea that another man could possess my sister was foreign. I had never considered it before. I quickly blanked it from my mind.

I raised an eyebrow. "I assume you plan to take precautions?"

"Precautions? Oh. You mean the pill." She laughed. "I'm sorry to disillusion you Big Brother, but I've been on the pill for a long time. A girl can't be unprepared you know, just in case the right man comes along."

I blushed, and decided to change the subject. "Do you think he is serious? I mean do you think he might ask you to marry him?"

Alex smirked. "I expect it at any time. He almost said it tonight. I suspect he's waiting for the right moment to pop the question. Any time or place is okay by me, including the back seat of the pickup." She laughed.

"How about it Sis, would you accept?"

"In a red-hot moment. He only has to start saying the words and I'll say yes, yes, yes, a thousand times yes." She started dancing around the room. "I'm so happy."

Her exuberance was infectious. I couldn't help but smile.

I also wondered what kinds of conversations were occurring between Elizabeth and Caesar. Would Beth be dancing around the room?

Alex stopped hopping around, and looked seriously at me. "What about you Paris? Do you want to marry Elizabeth?"

I thought about it. I nodded yes. "But, it's not so easy with us. We both have careers to manage. I don't want to interrupt hers and I wouldn't feel right being a parasite even though we have the money. I need to be productive. We'd have some tough choices to make, maybe impossible choices." I shrugged. "We'll just have to work it out."

"How about you and Caesar?" I replied.

"That's so cool. Caesar wants to work the farm. He's studying agriculture in school. We plan to buy some more property nearby the farm and combine the acreage. We'll make a living growing things and making babies. I'll take the odd job in the antiques business, just to keep my reputation."

"I thought he didn't ask you to marry him."

"He didn't. That was what I meant when I said he almost asked me. We talked a lot about the future, and what we would do together."

"You know, I think this calls for a bottle of champagne."

"Bring it on. It won't take much to get me looped," she replied.

I cooled a bottle of champagne from the wine cellar while we ate the remains of my dinner. We drank the sparkling wine and talked about the future late into the night. We went to our rooms slightly buzzed, at peace in the embrace of a perfect day. I wanted to cherish it, because in the back of my mind, I felt it might be our last.
Chapter 12

### Love under Shadows

I jumped out of bed as the first hint of sunlight gleamed thorough the window. I had a slight headache from the champagne, but I hit the shower before Alex. From previous experience, I knew she would be in the bathroom for a long time, so I started preparing breakfast. Soon, she staggered down to the kitchen to draw a cup of coffee.

"I've got to stay away from champagne," she said and groaned. "It sneaks up on you."

"I'll have breakfast ready in a while. Eat something, you'll feel better."

"No thanks, I'll just have a piece of toast. What is your plan for today?"

"Date with Beth."

"Good. Caesar is going to pick me up here at the house."

I laughed. "Did you have an argument about who was going to drive?"

She pursed her lips. "Yeah. I lost, rock, paper, scissors, best two out of three. I think he cheated."

"Beth is going to pick me up today after I call her."

She laughed. "You lost too?"

"Wasn't fair, I lost a tickling contest. Although, it was a lot of fun."

"I'll bet. I'm heading back upstairs. Thanks for the coffee and toast."

"No problem, Sis. You have a good day."

I resolved to give Elizabeth some time, since it was early in the morning, so I planned to delay calling her cell phone for at least an hour.

Ten minutes later, my cell phone rang. The caller ID indicated that it was Elizabeth's phone.

My voice was a little husky when I answered, "Good morning, darling."

I heard her intake of breath over the phone. She said something. It was obvious that the mouthpiece was muffled. I waited. Soon her voice answered.

"You have to be careful with that," she replied. "It makes me feel all fluttery inside. I didn't want Caesar or my father to see tears in my eyes, so I had to leave the room."

"So, when are you coming over?" I said.

"I have the car keys in hand, and I'm heading out the door. I want to beat Caesar."

"Tell him Alex won't be ready for a while, although I suspect that may change if he arrives."

"See you soon darling." She chuckled, and disconnected. It was my turn to melt.

I waited on the front porch. I had butterflies in my stomach. When I saw her drive into the yard, the butterflies took flight and started rustling through the rest of my body. I ran from the porch toward her as she exited the car.

It isn't possible, I thought, she looked even lovelier than the last time I saw her.

She wore a lavender frilly blouse with a white pleated skirt. Her tiny feet were clad in sandals that matched the color of her blouse.

I swept her into my arms. I held her tightly, feeling the closeness of her body. We clung to each other for a long time. A profound feeling of peace and contentment suffused me. The butterflies ceased their rumbling. I didn't want to let her go. I leaned back and cupped her cheek in my hand. I bent my head and kissed her tenderly, just lightly brushing my lips on hers. I sighed, and looked into her eyes.

"Don't tell me it gets better than this, I think I'll have a heart attack if it does."

She swatted me playfully on the arm. "I'll make sure of it. Maybe I'll get the insurance."

I heard a wolf whistle coming from the house. We turned to stare at the sound. Alex leaned out of the upstairs bedroom window. She smiled and waved.

"Have a nice time, you two." She ducked back in and closed the window.

Elizabeth drove toward Russell Springs, and short of the town, turned onto Cumberland Parkway. The parkway was a state highway, route sixty-two. It was a four-lane road, and provided access to the interior of the state. It eventually connected to the Interstate Highway System at the west end of the state. It was a good, fast road. She drove the car onto the parkway and headed east.

Elizabeth used the Jag's power to spin up the speedometer. She drove smoothly and settled into the fast lane. The car accelerated.

"In a hurry?" I asked nervously.

"No," she said, "I don't get to let the car out often, but when I do, I let it all out. Hold on, and fasten your seat belt."

The speedometer read ninety and crept up the dial. I gripped the door's hand rest.

"Huh, Beth, the State Police patrol this road regularly. You may get a ticket."

"I've got MD plates on the car. They don't stop me." She grinned, and then she glanced my way. "Okay, I'll slow it down."

The speedometer dropped to an even one hundred, I hadn't noticed what it was before. Cars flashed by in our right lane as we passed them. Elizabeth sighed. She took her foot off the gas pedal, and settled the car down to a sedate sixty-five.

"I suppose you're right. I should know better. I've seen the results of an accident often enough in the ER. It's just that sometimes I feel a need for speed."

I filed this knowledge away, marveling at this new, unexpected dimension of the woman I sat beside.

"Where are we going?"

"Somerset. Do you like Bluegrass?"

"Bluegrass? As in music? I love it."

"Somerset's sponsoring a Bluegrass music festival this year. Also, there's a beautiful bed and breakfast near the city that has good food. Sound good?"

"Sounds like fun." I settled back in the seat and watched the countryside roll by. Soon, the parkway ended. We rolled into the outskirts of Somerset, and found a place to park the car.

The town wasn't much different than Jamestown or Russell Springs, although the population was larger. It was a typical Kentucky town, with a large impressive square in the center, and numerous opportunities for nearby outdoor recreation.

Nightlife wasn't a focus of Kentucky living, the state was more rural and laid back. Somerset had initiated the Bluegrass festivals to attract tourism during the spring and summer months when Kentucky was at its tourist peak. As for me, music had always been a pleasure, and foot-tapping, Bluegrass Music was one of my favorites. It was just another reason to love the beautiful woman who walked by my side.

We strolled, holding hands, through the arts and crafts booths, toward the strains of fiddles and guitars. We sat down at an out door cafe, near the bandstand. Since Somerset was located in a dry County, there was no alcohol served, so we sipped lemonade and enthusiastically clapped to the music.

We sat for a long while and listened to the succession of ensembles that enlivened the square.

Leaving the cafe, we explored the booths and shops. There were numerous arts and crafts booths; some antiques shops, a few religious displays and a National Rifle Association booth. We ignored the latter religious and political booths, and concentrated on the former, arts and crafts. In the background, I could hear the music start again.

Many of the booths displayed quilts. Quilting was an old Appalachian and Southern tradition and pastime. It had recently evolved into an art form. Some antique quilts were worth thousands of dollars. One antique quilt entranced me.

Most of the displays were modern creations, but in this booth, the hand-stitched, antique quilt was exquisite. I marveled at the example of creativity. I thought of the long-ago woman who had sat by a fireplace, adding colorful swatches of fabric, one piece at a time, to create something of beauty and usefulness. Curious, I asked the woman who manned the booth how much she wanted for the quilt.

"Oh. That's just for display sir. It's over a hundred years old. I really don't intend to sell it. It's a family heirloom. I had it appraised, and it's nearly priceless. I'm selling my own quilts. I'm trying to keep the family tradition. Is there anything you would like to see?"

I checked her display of modern designs, and complemented her on the creativity. I thought of hoped-for, potential cold nights with Elizabeth, and impulsively bought two of the most pleasing designs.

As we were leaving, a woman walked up to the antique quilt and removed it. She folded the quilt and tucked it under her arm. I watched her. At first, I thought that she was with the woman who sold me the quilts, but the booth's owner seemed to be unaware of her, or the loss of her display.

Elizabeth began to browse the next booth.

I stopped and observed the action of the woman who'd taken the quilt. She seemed unconcerned, and started walking away, the quilt firmly under her arm. Surprised at this turn of events, I went back to the woman from whom I'd purchased my quilts.

I approached her. "Excuse me. Didn't you say that your display wasn't for sale?"

"Huh? All my quilts are for sale. What do you mean?"

"I mean that antique quilt that you had on display. You said it was priceless, a family heirloom."

"Antique? What antique? I don't have any antique quilts."

"You told me that you had had it appraised, and that you considered it priceless."

"I don't know what you are talking about. Is this some kind of scam?"

By this time, Elizabeth had returned to my side, and listened to the dialogue. She seemed a little puzzled. "What's wrong Paris?"

"What's wrong? – What's wrong is that another woman just walked off with this woman's prized possession, and she doesn't seem to care."

Elizabeth was silent. She just looked at me with a worried expression. Finally, she said. "What possession are you talking about?"

"The antique quilt," I said. "The one she wouldn't sell."

"Uh, Paris, I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't see a quilt other than the quilts you bought."

I stared at her. The conversation between me and the booth's owner had occurred in her presence. There was no way that she could not have been aware of the quilt and the reason that the woman had given as to why she wouldn't sell it.

I felt chills caress the back of my neck. Either I'd hallucinated the whole event, or something else was happening, something I didn't want to contemplate. The only way to resolve this, I thought, is to find the woman who took the quilt. Otherwise, I'd need to question my sanity.

"Sorry," I said. "I may have mixed you up with another booth."

"It's okay. I suppose I should thank you for trying to protect me," the booth owner said but her eyes reflected uncertainty, "even though I don't know what you're protecting me from."

I took Elizabeth's arm and walked away from the woman. We walked for a distance, and I turned to her.

"Excuse me Beth. I'll be back in a few minutes."

I abruptly left her and wound through the crowd, looking for the woman who had taken the quilt. I didn't know what to make of the previous events. The memory of what had just happened to me triggered recollections of my conversation with Silas and the altercation with the trespassers.

I looked for the woman. It wasn't hard to find her. She stood in the crowd holding the quilt under her arm, and gazing at the people who passed by. I approached her. She didn't seem concerned, so I stepped in front of her.

"Excuse me. You have something under your arm that doesn't belong to you."

She looked at me in apparent alarm. "You can see me."

"Of course I can see you. Give me the quilt, and I won't call the police."

"It's mine. I can take what I want. You have no authority to stop me."

I was surprised at her reaction. I'd expected resistance or remorse that she had been found out, or aggression and an attempt to flee. I grabbed her arm to restrain her.

"The quilt, please."

"It's mine. Screw you." She struggled to release my hand.

By now, I'd expected others in the crowd would come to her aid. However, the people in the square walked around us. They were apparently oblivious to the drama taking place in their midst.

She stopped struggling, and an intense look of concentration appeared in her features. I felt a faint sensation as if something alien brushed across my mind, but then it ceased. I was a little shaken by the feeling. It felt slightly dirty, as though someone had walked across my mind with muddy shoes. I forced her arm away from her body, and gently removed the quilt.

"I'm going to return this to its owner. I suggest you leave this area before I call the police."

"What are you talking about," she replied, acting nervous. "The police can't touch me. If you give it back, I'll just take it again. You're acting strange. This is absurd. You can't do this. I took it first. I'll report you to the council."

I shoved her away. "Get out of here. Run," I said. She didn't move.

She gave me an evaluating look "Who are you? I haven't seen you before. Who do you belong to?"

"None of your business," I replied. "If you won't leave, I'll find a way to restrain you and call the cops."

This seemed to shake her. "Okay. I'll go, but you haven't heard the last of this." With that final word, she headed toward the street leading from the square.

I was shaken. While the whole, vigorous discussion had transpired, none of the people in the vicinity had taken note of it. It was as if the two of us had existed on an island, out of communication, hidden behind a veil. It was an unsettling experience.

I returned to the area in which I had left Elizabeth. Eventually, I found her.

"Sorry, Beth, I had to find a restroom."

"I understand – I needed one too." She spied the additional quilt I held. "What did you do? Buy another quilt?"

I didn't know how to respond. On the spur of the moment, I said, "yes, it's for you." I didn't want to keep the quilt. I felt guilty. I resolved to make it right with the owner as soon as I could convince her that she had been ripped off.

"Paris, this is an expensive gift. You may be rich, but you don't need to impress me."

"It's a long story, I'll tell you sometime later. Just accept it, please. Keep it safe."

We found the restrooms in the restaurant. The woman's restroom line was long, and I had a while to think. The implications of the incident at the booth, and the encounter with the woman were nasty. If she could block out the knowledge and ownership of the quilt from the minds of both the booth owner and Elizabeth, what couldn't she do? No one seemed able to see her but me. She seemed to assume it was her God-given right to steal anything she pleased, and she was not fearful of the consequences. She sneered at the law. How was it possible? Was she one of the ones that Silas had called Shadows?

The fact that Elizabeth had been affected by her filled me with anxiety. If the woman could do that to her mind, what defense did Elizabeth have? If the Shadows existed, I realized that the only thing that stood between people like that woman and normal people like Elizabeth was a person like me, someone who was immune to their influence, and could prevent them from taking advantage of the rest of the population.

Was that why they wanted to abduct Alex and me? I realized that I almost believed some of the things that my father and Silas had warned us about. What did that say about my sanity? Was I going nuts, starting to believe in ghosts?

Eventually, Elizabeth emerged from the restroom. We walked back out to the warm sunshine.

"Let's go have lunch," I said. "Where's that bed and breakfast?"

We headed back to the car. I was nearly paranoid about her safety. I put my arm around her, and pulled her in close. I watched each person we passed, looking for any evidence that they might be a Shadow. It wasn't a good feeling.

"What's wrong Paris? I can sense you're upset and tense."

"Oh, just upset about the incident back at the festival."

"Don't focus on it. Your heart was in the right place. You just made a mistake."

No, I didn't.

I felt frustrated with my inability to communicate my knowledge and feelings. The problem was I was feeling the need to protect her, but my inability to explain the reason for it was festering inside of me.

Gradually, the closeness of her body, and the smell of her perfume eased my tension. My frustration evolved into a fierce resolve, and I was grimly determined never to let anything hurt her. I would give my life for hers.

That thought made me feel better.

We entered the car and Elizabeth drove a few miles from Somerset to the bed and breakfast.

She was right. The old mansion that housed the B&B was a treasure. Its stately pillars and portico were set back amongst the mature trees that surrounded the property. Blossoms hung heavy from the wisteria vines and their perfume surrounded the house. We entered through the ornate front door.

The house was tastefully decorated with antiques. The wood floors gleamed with polish. Antique throw rugs littered the floor. The foyer had a high ceiling. The walls were white at the ceiling height and covered with satiny wall covering at eye level. Flowers in vases covered most of the flat surfaces. An unobtrusive welcome counter stood at one end of the hall. We approached the counter.

"What do you think?" Elizabeth said.

"It's gorgeous," I replied.

"Would you like to stay here sometime?" she asked.

"With you? Now." I replied.

"I'm needed at the hospital tomorrow, perhaps another time?"

"Oh yes. The sooner, the better."

We reserved a place for lunch, and strolled outside for a walk around the property.

The fresh green growth added to the scent of the wisteria. The grass was thick under my feet. Blossoms from unseen trees, floated down in the sunlight, and numerous spring flowers were blooming in carefully tended flowerbeds, a riot of color.

"How can it get much better than this?" Elizabeth sighed. "I feel like I'm in heaven with you by my side."

"Oh I can think of ways," I said.

I caressed her arms, and cupped her cheek in my hand. "For example –" I closed my eyes, and kissed her tenderly, just lightly brushing my lips across hers. I did it again, but pressed fully upon her lips, feeling the soft texture of her skin. I leaned back, opened my eyes, and gazed at her face. Her eyes opened, and her shining violet eyes stared back at me. In an instant, I felt pure desire sizzle though my body. I stepped back.

"Okay that's enough, unless you want to spend the night here," I said, hopefully.

"It's tempting," she replied. "Believe me, it's tempting. However, I've still not started the pill. I warned you that you were falling in love with a doctor. Sometimes that becomes an overriding responsibility. You'll just have to be patient."

"Patient? I don't want to be patient. I suppose I'll have to reserve you."

"Reserve me? What do you mean?"

"I've made up my mind. As crazy as it sounds, I'm going to go shopping for a ring. I don't want to lose you."

"You don't have to do that, Paris. I'm yours, heart, body and soul. There will be plenty of time for that."

"I know what I want, Beth. I want you. I want you for the rest of my life."

"And I want you."

We embraced each other, kissing. We only broke our entwined bodies, when we saw a couple strolling through the gardens. I remembered that Kentucky was not comfortable with public displays.

I briefly thought of changing states.

We went back into the house, and sat down for lunch. The food was good. We finished off our meal with a mouthwatering peach cobbler with cream sauce.

We went back outside and explored the property. We talked about ourselves. I told her about my service in Iraq, and some of my Army adventures. She told me about her family life, and her college years. She also enlightened me as to her brief flirtation with romance, and her deceased boyfriend.

Heading back to Jamestown, we talked and planned some more. Lunch had been a big meal, so we didn't need supper.

We pulled into the front lawn of the farm.

Alex's truck sat at the front, along with the car that Caesar drove.

We got out of the Jag, and I opened the front door to the house.

We saw Alex and Caesar clinched together in a passionate kiss, entwined on the front couch. I closed the door, loudly. They broke and sat up. I laughed. "Would you guys like to play some cards?"

We spent the remainder of the evening, playing Monopoly, cracking jokes, and drinking and snacking. It was the only way that Beth and I could keep our hands off of each other, and I suspected that it was the same with Alex and Caesar.

Eventually, Elizabeth indicated that they needed to go home. She wanted to rise early to head back to the hospital. Caesar, I sensed, was not as willing to go, but after a lingering goodbye to Alex, he agreed.

"Okay guys, we do this again, but this time, we drive," I said.

"Horrors." Caesar laughed. "She drives too fast."

"I do not," Alex said.

"Yes you do," we both replied, laughing.

"Seriously, Alex and I have to meet with our lawyer tomorrow, and I promised to teach her how to shoot at the practice range."

"I can teach her," Caesar said.

"Good. Maybe between the two of us, she might turn out to be a decent shot. Tell you what, why don't we meet at the range tomorrow?"

"I've got classes," Caesar said, resigned, "all day."

"Okay Caesar, another time," I said.

We each turned to our respective partners and embraced them. After a series of deep kisses, we said our goodbyes. Elizabeth and Caesar climbed into their respective cars and drove off into the evening. Alex and I walked back into the house.

In the living room, I looked at her.

"So how did it go?" I said nonchalantly.

"How did it go? You've got to be kidding me. If you hadn't walked through that door, I'd have had him in my bedroom."

"That serious, huh?"

"You have no idea."

"Maybe I do."

"Oh, Elizabeth, huh?"

"Sis, I got it bad."

"Not worse than me."

I laughed. "How did we get into this wonderful mess?"

"You wanted to go hiking, remember?" She chuckled.

"Yeah, best decision of my life."

"I think so too."

We then started relating the day's events like a couple of giddy teenagers.

"By the way, I bought two quilts from a booth in Somerset."

"Two? Really? –Why?"

"I couldn't resist, they were really nice."

"Why two?"

"Ah, one for me and one for you?"

"Let me see them."

"Damn it. I forgot to bring them from Beth's car."

"Ha. How convenient. Now you'll just have to visit her to get them, won't you?" She laughed. "Why didn't you give one to Elizabeth?"

"Oh I forgot. – I did, only it was under a rather strange circumstance."

"How strange?"

I related the incident of the woman who took the antique quilt and how I had pursued her to get it back.

"You say that neither the owner nor Elizabeth seemed to take notice of the theft?"

"More than that," I said, "It was like they had blocked out all knowledge that the quilt ever existed."

"Wow! That _is_ strange. Well, how do you know that you're not the one who is hallucinating?"

"The quilt was real, Alex. I gave it to Elizabeth for safe keeping, in case the owner came to her senses."

I waited for her to arrive at the logical conclusion.

Alex winced. "You're implying that the woman was a Shadow. That means that maybe the Shadows can alter someone's mind, like Silas said. I thought that was science fiction. I've read that there's no possibility of controlling people with your mind. It's just magician's tricks."

"Yeah, so did I," I said.

Her face held a grim look. "I think that I've got to learn how to shoot that gun."

I sighed. "Yeah, tomorrow we'll go to the firing range before we meet with Silas."
Chapter 13

### Death of a Friend

Alex and I rose early and headed to the firing range.

I wanted to try all of the weapons, so I loaded the trunk of the Camaro with the pistols, the shotgun and the AR-15.

When we arrived at the range, I removed the two new pistols and an ammunition bag, and we carried them to the combination gun store and office. I paid for a four-hour session for both of us, and bought some tools and ear protectors.

It was long for a pistol range, but it had motorized targets that could be adjusted along the full extent. I laid Alex's automatic in front of her on the counter, and stored mine in the belt holster.

"Okay, Alex, let me see you go through the drill."

She picked up the weapon and flawlessly checked it, disarmed it and set the safety. I was impressed. "Good. You learn fast."

She grinned. "I've been practicing."

"Okay, load the weapon."

She handled the pistol gingerly when it came to loading it. I could tell that she was nervous, but she managed to accomplish it without any major mistakes.

"Now, unload it." I said.

She removed the mag, checked the action and the safety.

"Good, now reload it and cock it."

She complied.

"Now, unload it and clear the round."

She was a little more hesitant in clearing the action, but managed to accomplish it without mistakes.

I had her assume a firing stance, and adjusted her arms, hands and posture until she was in the correct position. I had her repeat the action several times. Finally, when I was confident that she could repeat it correctly, it was time to fire the weapon. I used the target mechanism to bring the paper target to a distance that I thought she and the weapon could hit.

I had her go through the entire drill again, and then told her to click off the safety.

"Okay, Alex. Now the weapon is ready to fire. Hold your stance, and squeeze the trigger."

Naturally, she pulled on the trigger. The weapon jerked high to the right, and the round missed the target.

"Sis, you pulled the trigger, you didn't squeeze it. When you do that, you cause the gun to move to the right. Also, the gun will kick up, so sight down a little to make up for that. Now, try again, and squeeze the trigger."

She concentrated, and looked a little surprised when the gun fired. That was a good sign. That meant she was squeezing off the round. The bullet hit the target, a little to the right and down.

"Good, nice shot. Now, empty the magazine. Take your time. You need to get comfortable with the action, and you need to relax more."

She fired all of the remaining cartridges, until the gun clicked on empty. Only three of the rounds had penetrated the target.

"This is harder than it looks." she said laying the gun on the counter. "I'll need a lot of practice."

"Yes, you will," I said. "It's only natural. Watch me, I'll fire a few, and maybe it will help you get the hang of it."

I removed the Glock from its holster and then removed a magazine. I laid both on the counter and used the motorized control to set the target. I wanted to sight-in the Glock, so I set the target for half of my normal distance.

Loading the magazine, I assumed my stance. I fired one round. Since the Glock didn't have a safety, I laid the gun carefully on the counter, with its barrel pointing down range,

I ran the target close and checked the hole that the bullet had made. It was a little low and left. I sent the target back to its original position and slowly squeezed off the remaining rounds. Clearing the action, I ejected the mag.

I brought the target close and studied the pattern. With each shot, I'd adjusted my sight picture slightly to get a feel for the gun's accuracy. The pattern was adequate, but not competition-grade. I decided I would adjust the sights later, and turned to Alex.

"Let's see how you do again. Did you observe anything useful?"

She laughed. "Only that I certainly don't want to be a bad guy who has you shooting at me."

She loaded the gun and assumed her stance. She slowly emptied the mag at the target. This time, six out of the ten rounds were within the rings.

"Better, I said, "you'll improve with practice. I'm going out to the car to get the Smith and Wesson and bring some more ammunition. While I'm gone, you can reload the magazines."

I went out to the car, removed the S&W from the trunk, and carried it back toward the pistol range. As I entered the store, I noticed another car drive up. The occupant emerged. It was Bob Patterson.

"Hi Bob, getting some practice?" I asked as he approached.

"How's it going, Paris," he said extending his hand. "Just maintaining my qualification. We have to practice each month, part of the job."

We shook hands. "Alex is inside, I'm teaching her how to shoot." I said.

"Really? This I've got to see. What's that?" He pointed at my pistol. "Looks new."

"Smith and Wesson nine millimeter. I just bought it and I haven't fired it. Thought I'd try it out." I checked the safety, and opened the action. I handed it to him. He checked the weapon over, closed the action, and handed it back butt first.

"Nice gun. Can I fire it?"

"Sure, after I have my turn."

We went back to the pistol range. Alex saw who was with me and she smiled. She hugged him and they started chattering away about what was going on in Jamestown.

"Hey," she said, "did you ever figure out who those strangers hanging around town were?"

I had an idea why she had asked the question, but her face was guileless, showing nothing but polite interest. I listened to his answer.

"They're still here. The Chief visited them. He seems to think they're harmless. Me? I'm still not sure, but they seem to be minding their own business and not troubling anyone. They're staying out at the old Bowman farm, out on route one twenty-seven. You know the place?"

I nodded and locked eyes with Alex. I saw her head move slightly in affirmation and she returned to her concentration on the paper targets.

I loaded the magazines for the S&W, and ran the target to a comfortable position. I fed the mag into the weapon and took a few practice shots. The pistol's action was flawless. The trigger pull was perfect. I shot the remaining rounds in rapid fire, and brought the target toward me. I checked the pattern, and found that the pistol was true. I had a tight grouping. I was pleased with the weapon.

"Nice shooting," Bob said. "Did you learn that in the Army?"

"Yeah, I thought about competition, but there were guys better than me."

"You did that pretty fast," Alex said. "How come I can't shoot that fast?"

"You're learning, but there's a limit on how fast you can shoot a weapon. You have to bring your sight picture back in line between each shot. You can't just blaze away, you won't hit anything."

"They do it all the time in the movies," Alex said.

"That's the movies," I said "Go ahead, try it. Just remember to keep the barrel of the gun down range. You don't want to hit someone with a stray bullet."

She loaded the gun, but looked nervous.

"Go ahead, Alex. Try it. Get it out of your system. Pull the trigger as fast as you can."

Bob and I moved back away from the firing line. Alex fired her gun as quickly as the action would allow it. None of the shots came anywhere near the target. They were hitting the bunker walls and the dirt floor.

After she emptied her magazine, she said. "Okay, I guess I get the picture."

"You have to learn to shoot the weapon properly, and then we can work on rapid fire," I said. "You only attempt that if you're trying to keep the bad guy's heads down. Then, you only do it if there's no one around to get accidentally shot."

We switched the targets to human silhouettes. I showed her the places to aim for. I could tell that she wasn't comfortable with the human shaped outlines.

"Face it, Alex, there's only one use for a hand gun other than target practice. It's used to wound or kill some one or some thing to stop them from killing you. You have to learn to aim for the center of mass. You are not a good enough shot to go for the leg or arm, unless you're really close, and then it may be too late. Trying for the head or heart is out of the question. Place your shots so that they hit the torso."

"It makes me feel sort of sick," she said.

"I can understand that. The thought of severely injuring or killing a person is not what we consider normal. Just think of it as a target. Forget it's the target of a human. Try to think of the target as though it's a bulls-eye."

Alex focused on the new target. "You're learning fast." I commented. You'll have to practice, but I don't think you'll kill anyone by mistake."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," she returned, dryly.

"Hey. You're doing fine for the first time. A little more practice, and you'll be giving me competition." I grinned.

"Did anyone ever tell you that you are an arrogant, overbearing twit, brother dear?"

"I've heard murmuring comments to that effect, but I think they're just jealous. When you've got it, you've gotta flaunt it."

"Twit," she replied.

We said goodbye to Bob, and drove back to the farm.

Locking the weapons in the gun safe, we showered, and changed into clean clothes to rid ourselves of the smell of spent gunpowder. When we were ready, we used her truck to drive to Silas' office.

"Good move with Bob," I said, as she drove towards town. "I was wondering the same thing."

Alex glanced at me. "You mean about the strangers at the farm?"

I nodded. "Yes. I suppose you were wondering if they could be involved with the people who might be hunting us."

"Well, they are strangers, and our trespassers could have been from their farm, so I thought I'd get as much information as I could since I had the opportunity," she said.

"Maybe Silas has some idea of who rented the old farm. Remind me to ask him," I said.

"You won't have to be reminded, I planned to do it."

We drove into downtown Jamestown and parked the truck in the same parking lot that we'd used before. The reception area was deserted.

"Where is everybody?" Alex asked.

"I don't know, the last time we were here, there was a receptionist and a security guard."

We waited in the lobby for a while, but no one came out of the offices to greet us.

"This is pretty strange. It's not lunch time, so where could they have gone?" Alex said.

"I don't know, but I'm starting to get an uncomfortable feeling about this. I think I'll check the offices."

I tried to open the door to Silas' office, but it was locked. I decided to try the other doors, but as I approached the first one, a door near the front of the building opened, and out walked the security guard. Through the open door, I could see what appeared to be the entire staff of the law office, clustered around a woman seated in the center of the conference room. She seemed to be crying. I recognized the woman. It was June, Silas' legal secretary. The security guard closed the door and approached us.

"I'm sorry folks, the office is closed. You'll have to leave."

"Leave? Why? We have an essential appointment with Silas," I said. "He was supposed to give us some crucial information today."

The guard looked uncomfortable. He thought for a moment and said, "Wait here. I'll see if Mr. Higgins can help you."

He opened the door to the conference room, entered and closed it. In a little while, the door opened again, and a middle-aged man emerged from the room.

He was short and stocky, and he sported a well-groomed ring of hair that surrounded a bald crown. He had a mournful look; like he had just lost his best friend. "Mister Fox, Miss Fox, my name is Christopher Higgins, Silas' partner. I'm afraid that you've caught us at a bad time."

I became apprehensive. "Apparently...What's happened?"

A look of anguish passed over his face like he was about to cry. "Silas Brawley committed suicide last night at his home."

I was stunned. Speechless.

"I don't believe it," Alex said. "Why would he kill himself? He seemed fine when we talked to him last week."

"That's true," I joined in. "He seemed like the last person I would ever have expected to take his own life."

"We believe that he was despondent about his wife's death. She died of cancer one year ago. Last night was the anniversary of her passing."

"I didn't know that."

"It was a tragic time," he said.

At that moment, the door opened again, and a man emerged from the room. I recognized him as the associate lawyer who had accompanied Silas during the first time we'd met him, but I couldn't remember his name. He beckoned Higgins aside, and conferred with him briefly, nodding at us periodically. Higgins seemed to be hesitant, but after a brief series of exchanges, appeared to reconcile himself. He turned to us.

"Miss Marrow insists on talking to you," he said. "She was Silas' legal secretary."

"I know," I said.

"I'm going to allow it, but she's very distraught right now. I'm worried about her. Promise me you won't upset her any more than she already is."

"We have no intention of upsetting her," I said. "If she wants to talk to us, I'm more than willing."

"I think it's essential that we talk to her," Alex said. "She may have important information."

He led us into the conference room. It was obvious from looking at her. June Marrow was close to a total meltdown. As a legal secretary, her demeanor seemed to be a significant over-reaction to the death of her boss. I sensed something else was involved.

She looked up from her misery, and said. "Please, please leave us. I need to talk to them alone."

The group looked at each other a little nervously, but on the word of Mr. Higgins, left the room and closed the door.

Alex sat beside her and took her hand. "We know how hard it is to lose someone close to you."

"You have no idea – No, I was wrong, I suppose you do," she said. "You lost your mother and father recently, didn't you?"

"Yes," Alex said gently.

June was silent for a while. "Silas couldn't have killed himself. None of the others believe me. I was hoping that at least you would."

"What makes you think that?" Alex said.

"I know it. I don't think it. Silas and I planned on getting married." She began to sob.

Again, I was speechless.

"Calm down, June," Alex said. "Tell us what happened."

She composed herself.

"It's true that his wife died a year ago, but he wasn't despondent about it. Silas loved his wife, and when she died, he was sad and lonely. He and I had been working together for a long time, I was divorced...I suppose you get the idea. Anyhow, we fell in love. We agreed for the sake of the families involved and the rest of the town, we would wait until a year had passed to be seen openly together. This was supposed to be the start of a new part of our lives. We had plans. We were going to date, and when the time was right, we would announce our engagement. We were happy. There was no reason for Silas to kill himself." She started crying again.

Alex looked at me. I didn't know what to say. If Silas' secretary was right, this whole episode took on a whole new sinister aspect. The only thing that could have been implicated in his death was the specter of our mutual problems with the Shadows and his efforts on our behalf. I cringed to think that we might be responsible for his death.

"Is there any other explanation for why he might have taken his own life?" I asked.

Alex was silent. She just hugged June, while she sobbed into her shoulder.

June stopped crying. She looked angrily at me. "No! It's those Shadow bastards. They're the ones who murdered him. I want to kill them. They should be eliminated from the face of the earth."

"How much do you know?" I asked.

"I know enough," she replied. "I know that Silas was terrified of them. I know that he felt that you two were the only possible people who could oppose them. He called them the Shadow People. He said that they were invisible to us. He said that we couldn't protect ourselves against them. He was hoping that you could help him defeat them, and now he's dead." She started crying again.

I was shaken. Were the Shadows somehow responsible for Silas' death? Could we have prevented it? How? I thought about it. Silas knew more about the Shadows than either of us. He'd had resources that we didn't. If his efforts couldn't save his life, what defense did an ordinary person have?

The implications were ominous. If the Shadows chose us as an enemy, anyone who was in their way was in danger. I thought of Elizabeth. The thought that she might be harmed because I was with her, hurt like a knife twisted through my gut. I would never allow it to happen.

I looked helplessly at Alex. I wanted to deny that this had anything to do with us, but the last thing that Silas said was that he would contact some people. Had his contacts betrayed him?

"June," I said nervously, "did Silas say anything about our conversation? Do you know who he was communicating with before he died?"

"Wait here," she said and left the room.

I turned to Alex. "This opens up a whole new set of problems. It's something I don't want to think about, but I guess we're stuck."

"Stuck in what way?"

"If it's true, then anyone associated with us is in danger."

She blanched. She released her breath with a whoosh. She paused and finally said. "If it's true. We don't know that the Shadows had anything to do with this. Hell, we don't even know if the Shadows really exist. It's a little premature to consider what I think you're considering."

"It's something we have to consider. If we're putting Beth and Caesar into harm's way, we need to think about severing the relationship." At that moment, the conference room door opened.

"Later," Alex said. "We'll talk about this later."

June reentered the room clutching a manila envelope. "Silas entrusted me with this before he died. It's for you two."

I felt the envelope. It had some paper and what appeared to be a key in it. "When did he give this to you?"

"Weeks ago, he said that if something happened, I was to give this to you. I didn't know what he..." She started to weep again.

Alex put her arm around June and settled her in one of the chairs. We waited patiently until she could compose herself. I went out into the office, and found someone who could give me a glass of water. I took it back into the room, and gave it to June.

"Okay, June. I, for one, don't believe that Silas committed suicide. I think you're right. The question is what do we do about it?"

She looked surprised. "I thought you'd know what to do."

"Not at this moment," I replied, "we'll think of something." I tried to sound more confident than I felt. "What was Silas doing about the Shadows before he died?"

"He was trying to find out more information about those people who took over the old Bowman farm," June replied. "Do you think that they could be the people who murdered him?"

I thought about it. There was no evidence that Silas had been murdered, but if you ruled out suicide, what else was left? If he was murdered, it made sense that it was because he had been working on our case. If the last clue he was investigating centered on that farm, it could have been the motive for his murder.

"Maybe. I think I'll try to find out."

"We'll find out, you mean," Alex said glancing sideways at me.

I nodded in agreement. "June what about you? What are you going to do? Are you going to stay on at the law firm?"

"I don't know. I feel so lost. Mister Higgins temporarily assigned all of Silas' cases to one of the young Associates, Kirk Brown. I believe you met him. He's handling your affairs. I may be working for him. Right now, the whole office is in mourning. Everyone liked and respected Silas. We're closing the office today. I don't know when we're going to open again. The associates are going to take turns dealing with emergencies, and all of the court appearances have been postponed. We may be shut down for a week."

Alex massaged June's shoulder. "I know that nothing can make up for your loss, but if there's anything we can do, you only have to ask."

June snapped her head to Alex. Her features distorted with anger. "Just find the bastards. Find them and kill them."

"Are you going to be alright? Do you need company or a ride home?" I asked.

"Some of the secretaries are going to drive me home and stay with me." She laughed bitterly. "It seems that Silas' and my relationship was the worst kept secret in the office. They all knew or suspected."

Paris caught June's attention and locked eyes with her. "Okay. Listen June, if the memories here become too much for you, you can come work for us after this is all over."

Alex looked at me, puzzled. "What do you have in mind, Paris?"

I returned her gaze. "Just an idea, we'll discuss it later, along with – other things."

"Yeah – other things," she replied gloomily.

We left the room. Alex supported June and turned her over to the care of one of the secretaries.

Higgins stopped us on our way out.

"Mister Fox, Miss Fox," he said, "I hope that you aren't too upset with what happened. Silas was my partner and best friend. I hope you understand that we are going to close the office for a while until after the funeral."

"Call us Paris and Alex, Mister Higgins. Miss Marrow already told us," I said.

Alex joined the conversation. "We were very fond of Silas. When's the funeral?"

"The funeral's next Monday or as soon as the family and I can arrange it. This was very sudden. We were all caught off guard. I've assigned your representation to one of our Associates, Kirk Brown. I believe you've met him?" His eyebrows rose.

"We really didn't get a chance to talk, he was only there as a witness," I replied.

"Well, maybe after this is resolved, you can come back to the office, and he can help you with your estate."

_Mercenary bastard_ , I thought. "Okay, after the funeral."

We left the office, walked to the parking lot, and climbed into the truck. Alex was quiet the whole way. We drove back to the farm in silence, but I suspected that both of us were thinking furiously.

Entering the living room, I said, "We need to look at what's in this envelope."

"Open it," she snapped and flopped down on the couch.

Inside were a letter and a key. It looked like a safe deposit key.

I opened the letter. "It's a letter from Silas."

Alex folded her arms across her chest. "Go on, read it."

Dear Paris and Alexandra,

If you are reading this letter, it is because something has happened to me. I have had a feeling that someone has been observing my actions and movements for some time. I am afraid that they may act to silence me. Therefore, I have taken steps to safeguard you and your estate.

If the worst has happened, please look after June Morrow. She and I have been lovers for some time, and we planned to marry. I am afraid that she may try to do something foolish. Keep this letter in your house as evidence against the Shadows. I think it will be as safe there as anywhere.

I have opened a safe deposit box in your name. In the box are some documents and other things that you may need in an emergency. It also contains some things for June. Please see that she gets them. If you are reading this, then the need to acquire the skills your father possessed is even more urgent. Please try. It's your only defense.

Silas.

I dropped the letter on the coffee table. "Damn! He shouldn't have tried going it alone."

"What makes you think he was alone in this?" Alex responded. "He could have had a few people helping him. In the end, it doesn't seem to have mattered. They still killed him."

"You sound like you're starting to believe in the Shadows," I said.

Alex looked up and then turned her head to look at the window. "Yeah, I suppose I am. At least I believe something is going on. It may as well be invisible people."

I spread my arms in an appealing gesture. "That leads to the next item on the agenda."

Alex whipped her head around and glared at me. "Don't go there Paris. I won't even consider it."

I sat beside her on the couch. "We've got to talk about it Alex. The more they're with us, the more they're a target. I couldn't live if something happened to Elizabeth because of me."

Alex's lower lip trembled. "Paris, for a long time I was content with my relationship with you, Mom, and Dad. You three provided all the love I thought I would ever need. I never found anyone else who I would give my life to, until now. It may be selfish, but I won't give that up. I'll kill someone before I'll let Caesar be taken away from me." She seemed about to cry.

I thought about her words. She was right when it came to our relationships. We had joked about it often, when we talked about our feelings for other people. For a long time, I had been looking for a woman whom I could love with the deep love I had for my sister and parents.

I knew that Elizabeth was that woman, but how could I put her in jeopardy just to satisfy my selfish needs? The turmoil of impossible choices made my chest tight, and I started to get a headache.

We lapsed into silence, each lost in our own misery.
Chapter 14

### Confronting Shadows

Alex broke the silence. "I know what I'm going to do. I'm going to buy a shit-load of ammunition for that gun, and I'm going to master it. Then, I'm going Shadow hunting."

I raised my hands in a fending motion. "Whoa. Wait a minute. You just can't go around shooting people."

Her eyebrows raised and her eyes widened. "Why not? Silas said no one could see them."

I shook my head. "Yes. No one can see them but us, but if you kill one of them, they may become visible. You'll wind up standing over a dead body, with a smoking gun, and no apparent justification for murder. Face it Alex, they've got us in a Catch Twenty-Two. Even if they make an overt move, we have no way to legally defend ourselves. It's obvious that they know this, and they have a lot of experience in exploiting it. If you can catch them with a hand weapon, then you might stand a chance, but the only weapon they need is their mind. How do you fight against that? Caesar and Elizabeth stand no chance against them, just as Silas didn't."

Alex's lips drew a firm line. "It sounds more and more like Silas was right. We need to learn how Dad managed to do what they do. "She tossed her head. "I still want to master the Glock and my pistol. Just in case."

I nodded. "We'll do that, but I think we need to do more. I think we should stay away from Caesar and Elizabeth for a while. Meanwhile, I believe that the answers are in Dad's computer, and we need to know what those answers are."

Her look became pleading. "No. You're wrong Paris. We need to be with those two more than ever. If the Shadows knew about Silas, what makes you think they don't know about Beth and Caesar? We're the only defense that they have. We should make them come here to the house, until we can determine a course of action."

"What? Kidnap them? You can't be serious."

She frowned. "No, I guess not, but we can be with them as often as we can. Think about it."

I thought about what she said. If we stayed away, they would be more vulnerable, especially if the Shadows wanted to use them to get to us. If the Shadows didn't know about them, then staying away made more sense. It was an agonizing choice. We needed information. We needed to know what the Shadows were planning. I started formulating a plan.

I rubbed my forehead with my fingers. "Okay. Silas was checking up on those people at the Bowman farm before he died. He probably thought that they might be Shadows. I think we should pay the farm a visit."

Alex gave me an incredulous look. "What? Just drive up and say here I am, take me? I think you'd better revise that plan."

I felt grim. "No, I think we'll drive up, armed to the teeth, and say, 'if you screw with me and mine, I'll kill you'."

"I like the attitude Paris, but you and I don't have concealed weapons permits."

I shook my head. "Don't need one. We'll carry them in a holster, in plain sight. Since they're invisible, and want to remain anonymous, they won't call the police. That is, I'm gambling that they won't. We'll at least get their attention."

Alex looked apprehensive. "Maybe we don't want their attention."

"Alex, we already have their attention. I want to confront this head-on. Maybe if we shake them up, we can get them to back off."

She shrugged, resigned. "I suppose it's better than just worrying about it. When do we go?"

"Right after supper. We'll eat on the way over to the farm. First, I want to call Elizabeth, and I suppose you'll want to call Caesar. Tell him about Silas and that you won't be seeing him until after the funeral."

Alex bit her lip. "I'll tell him about Silas, but as to not seeing him, I'll make that decision." She pulled out her cell phone.

I reconciled myself to the fact that at least she was thinking about it. I went to the study to make my phone call in private and dialed Beth on my cell phone. She answered on the second ring.

"Hello darling." She said with a laugh.

Again, I experienced that butterfly feeling. "God that sounds great. Do you answer all your calls like that?"

"The wonders of caller ID. How was your day with the lawyer?"

I sat at Dad's desk. "Not so good. In fact, we were greeted by bad news. It seems that Silas Brawley is dead. The police think that he committed suicide. It's really tragic, in more ways than one."

"That's awful," she replied. "I think I might have heard about that in the ER. There was a self-inflicted gunshot victim who arrived DOA last night. I wasn't on duty. It must have been your lawyer."

I rotated the chair, rocking it back and forth. "I don't know how he died, but I have my doubts it was a suicide. There's no way to prove it, but I think it had something to do with Alex and I."

"How in heaven's name could you and Alex be involved?"

I looked at the ceiling and sighed. "It's complicated, and I don't want to discuss it over a cell phone. I'll tell you about when we see each other again. Where are you?"

"I'm staying at the Bed and Breakfast. I'm doing extra shifts so that I can get Sunday free. I'm glad you called. I was going to call you, but I just got back from the hospital, and I haven't had time to change clothes and take a shower. Our father knows that Caesar and I are dating you and Alex. He wants to meet you both. Can you come to our house on Sunday?"

In spite of my resolution to stay away from her, I couldn't resist. "Certainly, what time?"

"Before lunch, say, eleven o'clock? That's when he's most active," she replied.

"Okay, I'll be there, and I don't think an earthquake could keep Alex away. But where do you live? Come to think of it, I don't have your address."

"Do you have a pen and paper handy?"

I opened the desk drawer. "Yes I'm at Dad's desk." She recited her address, and I wrote it on some note paper. The address looked familiar. I thought that I had seen it somewhere else, but I dismissed it as unimportant.

"What plans do you have for tonight?"

"I've got some weird shifts to do, to get ready for Sunday. I've just got enough time to eat, and then I'm headed for bed."

I chuckled. "Want some company? I can be up there in an hour."

She laughed. "Actually Paris, that sounds attractive, but I don't think I would get any sleep. We'll save it for another time, Okay?"

"Promise?" I asked.

"Promise," she replied.

"Elizabeth, have I told you how much I love you?"

"A few times."

"I mean recently. Like in the last five seconds?" I asked.

"No, but sometimes, I need to beat you to it. Otherwise, I'm sounding like a parrot."

I didn't say anything.

"I love you, Paris. You'll be in my thoughts and in my dreams tonight. I miss you." She laughed and disconnected before I could yelp.

I emerged from the study with a warm, dreamy feeling. I felt like I was floating. If love got any better than this, I thought I would levitate.

Alex was still on her cell, apparently talking to Caesar, so I ambled back to the study, and sat down at the desk. I studied Elizabeth's address, wondering where I had seen it before. Suddenly, a memory materialized. I went to the bookcase, and pulled out the list of addresses that Dad had written. I compared them to Elizabeth's address. Hers was one of them.

_How could her address have anything to do with the Shadow,_ I wondered? She certainly wasn't one of them, was she? Dad's list had indicated that the addresses were of people who could help us with the Shadows. Why was Elizabeth's address on the list? I hurried from the study to the living room. I caught Alex's attention and made frantic cutting motions to indicate that she should end the call. She frowned at me and indicated that she didn't want to get off the phone.

Finally, she said, "I think Paris needs to talk to me sweetheart, I'll call you later." She was silent for a moment, listening. "Okay I'll call you tomorrow. I love you."

"What is so damned urgent," she exclaimed with anger.

"Did you get Caesar's address?"

"I didn't need to. I've had it for a while."

"Well, compare it to this." I gave her Dad's list and the address that I had written on the notepad. That got her attention. She looked a little sick.

She looked stunned. "They're the same. How can that be possible? It has to be a coincidence."

I understood her anguish. Were we being set up? What was going on? I sat beside her on the couch, feeling a little nauseated.

Alex thought for a moment. "Okay, Paris. These addresses, according to Dad, were of people who could help us, not hurt us. You certainly can't believe that Caesar and Elizabeth are out to harm us. That's really sick. It's paranoid."

"I don't know what to believe anymore. A few weeks ago, I didn't believe in invisible people. Now, it's like the world is spinning backward. Think about it. We just happen to meet the two people of our dreams, at a place that we thought belonged to us alone, and their address is contained in a list that Dad prepared, to warn us of Shadow People? That's a little too much to swallow."

"Paris, there has to be a rational explanation for this," Alex said. "Maybe the address is out of date. It could be someone who lived there before. Besides, what does it matter? If the people at this address are destined to help us, who would be better than Caesar and Elizabeth?"

I still felt confused and apprehensive. "Why wouldn't they warn us?"

"We haven't been exactly forthcoming ourselves, you know. We've kept our suspicions and worries secret. We haven't confided in them," she said.

"I didn't want to sound like a raving lunatic, like those people on the Internet. What do you think Doctor Rowan would say if I told her I was seeing invisible people?"

Alex giggled. "She'd probably order a straight jacket."

"Well, she might not be wrong. I feel crazy enough."

"Look Paris. Let's just see what happens on Sunday. If we need to, we'll put all of our cards on the table and let them explain. We owe them and ourselves that much trust."

"You're right. Maybe I'm overreacting. I'm letting this get to me. I think I'll take out my anxiety on some bastards who are trying to spoil what should be the happiest time of my life. Let's go Shadow hunting. Are you up for it?"

"I can't deny it scares me," she said and shuddered, "but I guess it's necessary. Let's do it."

We changed into some rugged hiking clothing and boots. I didn't want to delay our reconnaissance of the farm past daylight, so we stopped off at a drive-through and ate some fast food to give ourselves plenty of time.

The trip out to the old farm passed through Jamestown heading north. I'd been there before as a randy teenager and roughly knew the layout. After reaching the turnoff, I parked Alex's truck on the side of the road leading to the farm, near the entrance to the main highway.

I removed the pistols encased in holsters from the truck and I strapped one of them to a webbed belt. The one I handed to Alex was a thigh holster.

"Put this on."

She looked nervously at the gun belt. "I thought we didn't have weapon permits."

"We don't have _concealed_ weapon permits. We don't need permits to carry weapons openly. If the police saw them, they would most likely stop us and ask what we're doing with guns, but it's technically not illegal to wear them. If someone asks what we're doing on private property with hand weapons, we simply say that we were going to talk to the owner about target shooting on the property. The worst that can happen is that they chase us off the premises, in which case, we apologize profusely and leave. However, I don't intend to be seen when we approach the place, and I don't think that if these guys are Shadows, they'll want the police to take notice of them either."

"Paris, plans have a tendency of not quite working out as you intend."

I laughed. "Yeah. I know, but this was the best I could come up with on short notice."

She rolled her eyes, but followed me as I led her into the wooded area along the road.

I stopped to make sure that both of the weapons were on safe, and then continued through the woods.

The wooded area was a narrow ribbon that bordered the road. Beyond the woods was a large, overgrown field that would hide our approach if necessary, but if I was right, the woods we were traversing fed into another strand that continued to the right; completely up to the farmhouse.

We moved silently and slowly. Both of us had experience tracking animals through Kentucky forests before, and we knew how to move without making noise.

We became more cautious when we reached the bend leading to the right. I motioned for Alex to stop. I leaned close to her ear.

"If they have guards, they'll most likely be stationed here and in front of the house." I whispered. "From here on out, we've got to be careful."

We moved to the outside perimeter of the wooded area next to the field.

I peered into the woods, trying to discern any human-shaped outline or movement. Not seeing anyone, we moved deeper into the wooded area, toward the gravel driveway leading to the farm, and finally reached the edge of the drive.

I looked through the screen of trees, and scanned from the main road along the driveway, toward the house, looking for a guard.

The house was white clapboard construction, and I could see that it had been recently mended and painted. It stood back against the wooded section, at the end of a long sloping lawn, which needed mowing, about the length of a football field.

Standing in plain sight at the edge of the lawn was a man; he appeared slightly bored and chewed idly on a blade of grass. A portable communicator was strapped to his side. I could see no sign of weapons.

Near the farmhouse entrance, leaning on the side of the building, was another man. He was similarly equipped, reading a book.

I was confused. Obviously, these were sentinels of some type, but they clashed with my military concepts of standing good guard duty. I puzzled over their behavior for a moment, and then it came to me.

The guards must be Shadows. It was the only explanation for the lax approach to guard duty. As far as they knew, they were hidden, hidden in plain sight. If anyone came out here to investigate, the people in the farmhouse would have plenty of advance warning, because they couldn't see them.

The knowledge of the layout and the number of guards changed my plans. I formulated another approach, one that would use their abilities against them, but needed to talk it over with Alex.

I crept silently back to her position. After conferring for a few moments, we walked out of the woods onto the paved road, walked down the road without trying to conceal ourselves, and turned right onto the gravel driveway leading to the house.

The guard standing at the edge of the lawn startled when he saw us coming. He grabbed the communicator and spoke briefly into the mouthpiece, but he didn't make any move toward us. As soon as he spied the pistols strapped to our hips, he used the transmitter again. He watched us as we passed him. Neither Alex nor I looked at him.

We continued up the driveway toward the farmhouse. The guard left his position and followed behind us.

Walking toward the front door of the house, we ignored the guard. The man who stood at the side, moved between us and the front door.

We continued to walk straight to the entrance, pretending we didn't see them.

As we neared the front steps, I felt a slight sensation in my head; similar to the one I'd felt when I had accosted the woman at the fair.

By now, both men blocked the entrance. Alex and I stopped on the front steps. I unsnapped my holster, drew out my gun, pointed at their general direction, and said, "Get out of our way, we're going in."

The surprised look on the guy's face was nearly comical. "You can see us!"

"Yes, I can see you, and I'm here to see your boss, so step aside."

The man who'd been standing at the front of the house seemed more composed.

He looked carefully at us and at the gun I held in my hand. He paused for a moment, and then he said, "The reports are true then. This changes things I think. Wait a moment." He spoke into the hand-held communicator in what sounded like a foreign language. A voice replied.

He ended the conversation. "Anthony will see you, but no guns."

I shook my head. "No deal. I don't trust you. We go armed. We'll keep the guns in the holsters."

He stood there in front of the door. Plainly, he struggled with his decision. He spoke into the communicator again. Again, a voice answered. "Okay the woman can keep the gun, but you leave yours out here. Deal?"

I thought for a moment. "Maybe we should just leave and come back when you're being more reasonable?"

At that moment, the front door opened, and a voice issued from the house. "Let them in, George. I don't think Mister Fox means us any harm."

The guards stepped aside. I holstered my weapon, and snapped the cover over it. Alex and I entered the house, and George followed us.

The previous encounter with the guards raised some questions in my mind. It was obvious that we had caught them unaware and off balance. It was also obvious that they knew about us, but it seemed that they did not know all about us. Was the gesture of letting armed people enter their house an effort of good faith, or arrogance in their abilities?

I surveyed the interior of the house. We had entered a fairly large, comfortable living room. Area rugs covered the polished hardwood floors. A short slim man stood in front of an overstuffed chair.

He appeared to be middle-aged, his black hair did not exhibit signs of gray, but there were creases around his eyes, and he had a high forehead, corrugated with worry lines.

He walked over to us and extended his hand.

"Mister Paris Fox I presume, and your lovely sister Alexandra," he said, looking at Alex.

I shook the extended hand. It was soft, nearly effeminate. He turned to Alex, took her hand, bowed, and kissed it.

"Please," he said, "sit. Would you like some refreshments?"

I ignored the question. "You know our names, but we don't know yours."

"Pardon my manners. My name is Anthony Anagnostopoulos. – You may call me Tony. That's much better than Mister Anagnostopoulos. Please. Sit. I'm sure that you have a lot of questions. George, go fetch some refreshments for our guests. He smiled at us.

My expectations of this encounter jarred with the unfolding reality. Now, I was the one caught off guard. I looked at Alex and she looked at me. She shrugged, sat down on the edge of the living room couch, and I followed suit.

"It's been nice weather recently," Tony said. "Not good for the crops, however."

"Tony, I think that we can dispense with the preliminaries. It's obvious you know who we are, and it's equally obvious your people are Shadows. I admit, I didn't expect a warm welcome after what happened to Silas Brawley, but just so you don't get the wrong idea, I'm here to stop you, anyway I can."

"Ah. Mister Brawley," he said, "yes, that was unfortunate, but we didn't have anything to do with his tragic death. You see, if we had known what he planned, we could have prevented it. He antagonized the wrong people. There will be repercussions, I assure you, but they will be too late to matter."

"Repercussions?" Alex said sarcastically. "The man's dead. How about arrest and trial for murder?"

"Unfortunately, that will never happen. Witnesses will vanish or lose all memory of the events. Courts will dismiss cases, attorneys will refuse to prosecute, and if necessary, the murderer will be freed and simply vanish. You see, Alexandra, the human race is defenseless against us. What it cannot see, it cannot punish."

I sat uncomfortably silent, thinking about what he'd said. Finally, I spoke. "That may be true, but we can see you, and we can punish you."

"Think about what you're saying, Paris. You are only two people. Two people with a productive future. There are many of us all over the world. Why would you want to ruin a potentially happy life, just to crusade against a people, who in the main, are not out to do you any harm? I assure you that I and my people do not intend to harm you, or your friends."

At that moment, George brought a tray loaded with a carafe, cups and saucers. He placed it on the coffee table.

"The coffee is Turkish, a special blend. I think you'll like it. Ah, here is the baklava. Have you eaten it before? It's wonderful. Try it, you'll like it."

I ignored the offerings. "What I want to know is who you people are, and what I can say to convince you to back-off and leave us and our friends alone. Let's start with the former."

Tony pressed his hands together in front of his lips and looked down at the floor. "To answer your question, I think that I should relate a tale. A story that has as much to do with you as with us. A story that began hundreds of thousands of years ago, during the dawn of humanity."

I wondered what he was up to. I didn't need a history lesson. I glanced at Alex, she looked puzzled also, but she waited.

"Very well," he said. "We have no way of really knowing – so much of what I am about to say is theory and speculation. The archeological record of the People – by the way, we don't call ourselves Shadows, we are 'The People' – is indistinguishable from the mainstream of humanity. When we die, we lose our abilities, and decay like ordinary humans. Our artifacts are identical to any artifact found in human grave sites, because they are human artifacts. Therefore, there is no evidence of our presence."

_He sounds like one of my college professors_ , I thought and settled in for a lecture.

"We theorize that we genetically split from the human mainstream in response to external threats both from predators, and other, more powerful humans. We are essentially a species branched from early humans. You can liken our genetic adaptation to the behavior found in a prey animal, when they freeze at the sight of a predator. You can imagine an animal such as a rabbit, cowering, and thinking, 'you don't see me, you don't see me'. Somehow, that behavior manifested in us as an ability to literally disappear from sight. We've always been a slight people, short in stature, not big boned, with weak musculature. In addition, we're abject cowards. We do not engage in confrontation. It's not in our nature. We prefer subterfuge."

_Cowards_ , I thought, maybe that was one of their weaknesses. Could I exploit it? He droned on.

"Once we found ourselves living amongst teeming masses of humanity, we naturally gravitated toward the role of parasite. Always living on the food and comforts provided unwittingly by the normal humans that we lived around. We speculate that the earliest human superstitions and rituals were the result of our close proximity to humans. Some normal humans can partially see us, or a shadow, but we completely disappear if we are still and not speaking."

"Wait," Alex said. "Are you saying that you physically disappear?"

"No, we just can't be seen by a normal human. Their mind refuses to acknowledge us. In all other ways, we are basically human, but like all humans everywhere, we started assuming a superior attitude toward normal humans. We began to call the majority of humanity, 'Normals'.

"If we had bred at the rate that is the rule in the human majority, we would have soon surpassed the Normals as the majority species, because we didn't have any competition. But, nature, being the wise guardian of life that she is, made sure that we would be handicapped. Our birth rate is very low. I suppose it's the price we pay for our ability."

He paused and sipped some coffee. – "As the millenniums passed, our parasitic nature and assumptions of superiority hardened into a caste-like system, where we lived in wealth and comfort. Humanity, as the inferior species, was destined to serve us, and we existed in that fashion, until over four millenniums ago, at the dawn of civilization. We think that the gradual evolution to farming and city-states made it much harder to keep the old caste structure, so the People banded together in Houses, clan-like groupings that were frequently related by blood. But the gradual flowering of culture and learning made some of the People rethink their role in the human world." He stopped talking, as though waiting for any comments.

I had nothing to say, so I remained silent. His voice seemed to encourage listening.

He spread his hands in a beseeching manner. "You see, we were stagnant. We didn't have art, learning or culture. We lived off the products of human ingenuity. Humanity was leaving us in the intellectual dust. We were immensely wealthy, and if we needed anything, we simply took it. However, we were a mental wasteland. None of us could read. Learning was not necessary. Since our birthrate couldn't hope to keep up with the Normals, we were becoming a distinct minority."

He waited again, as though collecting his thoughts, and then he continued. "A number of the Houses, realizing the danger, resolved to correct these imbalances, and began to make contacts among Normals.

"Our abilities were evolving as the human race evolved, and some of us had developed unexpected attributes. We began to be able to do more than just hide in plain sight. We began to be able to influence minds and affect matter. However, the abilities emerged randomly, and were not necessarily inherited. We started acquiring human allies, sometimes willingly, often unwittingly.

"Also at that time, was the start of disaffection and disillusionment with our culture, and a desire to join the human mainstream. Some of us found mates in the normal human populations and began to raise families, half People, half Normal. Our abilities emerged sporadically in these hybrids, but they were fertile and added to our population. But many of the Houses did not share the majority viewpoint. They clung stubbornly to the old ways. Humanity was their servant and they would be humanity's master. But they did adopt the practice of using proxies among Normals, and they assumed control of entire nation-states, to serve them and do their bidding."

"Wait a minute," Alex said, "do you expect us to believe the Shadows, or 'People', as you term them, could take over a whole nation? That seems preposterous."

"You underestimate our powers, Alexandra. It's not a wise idea." He hesitated. "Shall I continue?"

"Please" do," I replied.

"A conflict emerged among the Houses due to this difference in attitudes. Some of the Houses used their power among the nation-states to try to subdue other Houses. A split occurred in the continuity of the People. After a time, we were using our proxies to wage total war.

"None of the People engaged in direct confrontation, but periodically we'd be injured or killed by the peripheral effects of the mayhem they caused. Once the pain of our suffering became too great, the fighting stopped, but the animosity remained.

"The hybrid offshoot of the People became nomads, what you might call gypsies. They retained enough of their abilities to exist successfully in a quasi-parasitic fashion amongst Normals. The Houses hardened their antagonism toward each other, and the People separated into two distinct groups, those who viewed humanity as a partner and those who viewed humans as serfs. The two groups existed in constant conflict, but in modern times, we've learned to make accommodations. You two are at the center of some of those more regrettable accommodations."

He stopped talking and looked expectantly at us.

I sat back in the cushions of the couch, trying to make sense of all that he'd said. But the last sentence he spoke sharpened my attention.

Before I could say anything, Alex spoke out. "What the hell are you talking about, 'accommodations'? We're not anyone's accommodations. We don't want anything to do with your...People."

"I'm sorry Alexandra. You don't have a choice. You are one of the People," Tony asserted. "You and your brother are successful hybrids with unusual abilities. You represent a bridge between the People and Normals. You have a foot in both worlds. Nearly all of the Houses are keenly aware that you and your siblings exist. Your siblings have been removed from the conflict. You, however, remain at large, and you are the target of several competing forces. If you're smart and careful, you may maintain your autonomy, but it will not be without cost," he warned.

"Kidnapping and murder," Alex said. "Your 'People' are nothing more than slimy criminals, and I'll treat them that way if they come near me."

I had only one question. "What happened to our parents? Did your People kill them?"

"No. Not my People. That was an unfortunate incident, a tragedy in more ways than one, caused by excessive zeal among one of the competing House's Normal proxies. The matter was disposed of. The persons who caused it no longer exist. I suspect that doesn't help you, but pursuing the matter would be futile."

My throat became choked with rage. "We could just kill all of the members of the House that caused it."

"Let it go, Paris," Tony said compassionately. "It wouldn't serve any useful purpose, and you need to devote all of your energies to finding a way out of your current dilemma."

"And what, exactly, is that dilemma?" Alex asked.

"To answer that," Tony said, "I would have to relate another story."

I glanced at Alex; she looked exasperated, but nodded in the affirmative. So I sat back in the couch.

"Go ahead. Tell your story." I said, resigned.

"As I said, the Houses had developed a great deal of animosity during the millennium preceding the modern age. This hatred and distrust spilled over into the Middle Ages and beyond. Numerous wars were fought using the new nations, and so the conflict continued.

"During that time, we often suffered from the consequences. Sometimes exhaustion and destruction of wealth, caused a pause in the conflict, but we continued to use our proxies to gain ascendancy over our enemies. After all, what value was a Normal life, compared to the People?" he said with apparent bitterness.

"As the conflicts ebbed and flowed, they became more violent and destructive, resulting in the great wars of the last century. It was at the end of the Second World War, and the beginning of the Cold War, that we realized that our squabbles could result in the destruction of the whole world, not just our proxies.

"We set about to codify our conflicts and limit their scope. We defined the prerogatives of the Houses, and we established the boundaries of our interactions with the 'Normals'. We established a Council to arbitrate disputes and violations of the codes. At this point in time, you are caught in a crack between those rules, and your father willingly exceeded them."

"Wait a minute. Are you saying that the Shadows were responsible for the Second World War? I find that hard to believe," I said.

"You certainly don't think that a psychotic misfit like Hitler, alone, could convince a few small nations to attempt to conquer the whole world, do you?" Tony said. "Think of the targets of the Nazi persecutions. Jews, Gypsies, they all were allies or blood relations of some of the more forward-thinking Houses. Meddling in House business can lead to a short lifespan."

I suspended my disbelief, in favor of a more important question. "What's your interest in our problems?" I asked.

"I am here as a – call it – proctor. I am acting to insure that the rules are obeyed, and that no one House or Association steps outside those rules." He took another sip of coffee.

"Understand, Paris, I am not your ally nor am I here to help you. You're on your own in this matter. I'm a neutral party is this drama, and you would be wise to remember that."

"Well then, why have you given us all this information? Why not turn us over to the Shadows? You have the opportunity right here and now to end this. What kind of game are you playing?" I asked.

"No game. I may be acting as an observer, but unlike some of my species, I have moral principles. I sympathize with your plight."

"What do your People want with us?" Alex asked.

"Ah – this is delicate. – However, there's no way of making it sound any less crude or barbaric than it is. You see, you two are the property of one of the more powerful Houses. The House in question bred you. You are the offspring of a controlled breeding experiment. The House that provided your birth mother is one of the more traditional Houses. They view the more adept members of their group as nobility. Everyone else is a serf, subservient to the Adepts. To them, you are property that they can dispose of however they wish."

"Huh. They'll find that this property has teeth!" Alex said.

"Is that what happened to our half-siblings?" I asked.

"Not all of them." Tony said. "Once the other Houses found out, a few of your half-brothers and sisters were taken in by rival Houses. You two are the only ones remaining free. Your father was trying to negotiate a truce on your behalf when he was killed. He might have succeeded, but the fools killed him," he said.

"What's so important about our father? Why would they negotiate with him? Why didn't they just abduct us and kill him?" I asked.

"Ah. That's the sticking point. Your father accomplished something we thought wasn't possible. He somehow acquired some of our abilities. We were astounded. To think that a normal human could acquire our powers was intolerable. None of the Houses could allow that. They knew that if ordinary humans knew about us and were able to counter our powers, it would be a bloodbath. We are weak and few in numbers. We would be exterminated. The Houses will do anything to prevent it. Unfortunately for them, as long as you stay in your father's house, they're powerless."

"So, we've got to fort up in the house to prevent your miserable freaking People from abducting us and taking away our freedom," Alex shouted. "I can't believe this. – This is the United States of America. We have laws, for Christ's sake. It's the Twenty-First Century, not some medieval knockoff!"

"Calm down, Alexandra," Tony replied, "you've got to think. Who will believe you? None of the Normals can see us or even sense us, unless we will it. If one of your friends were to walk in this room right now, they would find you talking to an empty chair. No, you've got to use your minds to think of a solution. You do have a few options."

"What kind of options?" I asked.

"At this time the situation is stable, an uneasy truce exists. All of the Houses that are involved in this conflict are afraid that one will seize an advantage over the others, so they are trying to avoid open actions. You could form an alliance with one of them."

"And do you have a House in mind?" I asked carefully.

"Ah – I see, you're testing me. You want to know if I have a motive in suggesting this. I can't blame you. I could have a motive. You don't have any history with the families, but you'll just have to trust that I am acting as an arbitrator. In fact, as a member of the Council, I shouldn't be giving you as much information as I have. I just feel that you are facing overwhelming odds, and you deserve a chance to guide your own fate. You do have an advantage. The complex conflicting motives of the forces involved makes opportunities to find allies in unexpected places." He paused. "I will say no more. You need to leave, and think over the things I've told you."

"Wait. What would happen if the House that thinks they own us were to succeed in abducting us?"

He paused, as though unable to voice his reply. "Alexandra would become an unwilling breeder, and you would be subverted to becoming a pawn of the House."

His words chilled me. The thought of that kind of fate was the fabric of nightmares. I would die before I allowed that to happen.

"You tell the House in question," I said coldly, "that we will die before we let them take us, and before we die, we will make sure that there are several fewer Shadows alive in this world. You tell them that we have the secret of my father's abilities, and if necessary we will reveal it to the entire world unless they leave us in peace."

Tony's face blanched with that last statement. "No. You don't want to reveal that. Whatever you do, don't make that threat. It will just make things worse. You can't imagine the harm it would cause."

I stood up. I looked coldly at him. "Come on Alex, we're leaving."

Alex rose to leave, and joined me as we walked to the front door. George barred the way. I looked at him. Something in my face seemed to convince him, and he stepped aside.

After leaving, we walked to the truck and drove back to our house.

I drove in silence for a while, thinking.

Finally, Alex broke the silence. She looked grim. "How much of that shit did you believe?"

I kept my eyes focused on the road. "Hard to say. Some of it makes sense, but it's a lot to swallow in one sitting. We know what has happened to us, and what we've experienced. Maybe the Shadows can do what he says. Maybe they're as powerful as he says, but one thing I learned in the Army. Everything has a strategic or tactical weakness." I glanced over at Alex. "The trick is to find that weakness and exploit it. That should be our focus. They're panicked. We represent something they want, and we have something they're desperate to possess. Those are bargaining points and weapons. The problem is that we don't know who we're dealing with, so we don't know where to strike to use our weapons."

"What about releasing Dad's discoveries on the Internet? Assuming we can find them, of course." She chuckled. "He sure looked scared when you laid that on him."

"You saw how many hits we got when we googled 'Shadow People' didn't you? If we released it on the Internet, it would just be background noise," I replied. "Still, it's a thought."

We lapsed into silence until we reached the farm. I parked the truck, and we went in the house. As soon as we entered it, I felt an easing of the tension that had been surrounding us on our trip to the Bowman farm.

"You know Alex? I think he's right. Can you feel it?"

"Yeah, it's like a cocoon. I feel less tense."

"It must have something to do with the alterations that Dad made to the basement. It's the only thing that makes sense. He found a method of shielding the house. It must be keyed to us, because it seems to be welcoming us."

"I think our father was an amazing man." Alex said.

"Yes, he surely was."
Chapter 15

### Funeral and a Mission

"So, what are we going to do?" Alex said.

"I haven't a clue. I need to think."

We sat down in the living room.

I stared off into space. _Tony's right. We need allies and intelligence_. Where were the Shadow's vulnerabilities? Who were the competing factions? Could we play one faction off against another? Which of the Families thought that they owned us? We had to stay free of those bastards at all costs.

Leaning forward on the couch, I clenched my fists. "Damn it. We've got to get into that computer!"

"Do you know the password? I wouldn't want to try, unless we're really desperate. Maybe Tom can help," Alex said.

"I don't want to drag him into this. He'd just become one more vulnerability along with Caesar and Elizabeth." I stomped my feet and rose from the couch to pace the room. "We need to find that password."

Alex looked up at me. "How about the letter that Silas left. Is there something there we could use?"

I snapped my fingers. "The key. I had totally forgotten about that. Do you have the envelope?"

Alex shook her head. "We left it in the truck. It's in the glove box. I'll go get it."

She left the house and returned. "Good thing I thought of it. We've got company." She gestured to the front of the house. "Across the road."

I went to the front door and looked out. Across the highway, I saw a black car; it looked like a Mercedes sedan. The windows were heavily tinted, nearly opaque. "Do you think they can be any more obvious? What are they thinking? A Mercedes in rural Kentucky? It screams terrorist." I chuckled. "At least we know that these people are stupid."

"I don't know," Alex said. "Maybe the cops won't be able to see it, or they'll be convinced it's a beat-up farm truck."

She had a point. "Maybe they're not so stupid after all."

"Still, it's obvious to us. That's a plus."

"Yeah, and maybe they don't care."

The car occupants apparently had some of the same thoughts we did, because in a little while, it started up and drove down the road.

Relieved, we returned to the couch.

"Okay, what have we got?"

Alex opened the envelope and examined the key. "It's the B of A branch downtown. The box number is on the key." She glanced at the wall clock. "We've got just enough time to hit them before they're closed, if we hurry."

"Right, let's go" We ran out of the house and climbed into the truck.

We raced downtown, and entered the bank a few minutes before closing. The manager was at first reluctant to allow us access, but after a few minutes of basking in Alex's attention, he granted time to examine the contents of the box.

We took the box to a private room, and opened it, removing four envelopes.

"We need to divide these up. You take half, and I'll take half," I said.

We opened the envelopes and took note of the items inside.

"This is a deed to Silas's house. It's in June Marrow's name, and a sealed letter addressed to her," Alex said.

I opened mine. It contained dozens of bankbooks. "This one has a bunch of bank books from several banks," I said. "They're all in odd dollar amounts totaling thousands of dollars. I haven't calculated the entire amount, but there must be in excess of a million dollars."

We opened the other envelopes.

"This one has passports in different names and nationalities, but they all have our pictures on them," I said.

"Well this one has birth certificates, Social Security cards, credit cards, and driver's licenses. I'll bet they're going to match some of those passports," Alex said. "Anything else?"

"There's a letter from Silas."

I was surprised. Why would he have broken his lawyer's ethics to provide us with what were clearly illegal documents?

I stirred. "We need to leave everything here. We'll take the letter and June's deed, and come back for the rest later."

"See if you can find some of the bank books in our proper name. We may need some money." Alex said.

"Good idea." I replied.

We thumbed through the bankbooks and set aside the ones that had our names on them. We scooped up the bankbooks and Silas's letters. Thanking the manager, we left the bank.

We didn't open the letter until we returned to the farm.

Paris and Alexandra,

I've broken some of my cardinal rules here, but I feel as though I have no choice. I have learned some things from friends who shall remain nameless, that the danger we all face has reached a crisis point. These people were mutual acquaintances of both me and your father. They are near allies, as much as one might expect from the Shadows, who desire to see a just solution to the problems raised by your father's discoveries. You may have to run. The items in this safe deposit box represent tools that you may use to affect an escape. I had to do highly illegal things to acquire them, so I hope that my efforts were not in vain. If something happens to me, please ensure that June receives the items in the box that were destined for her. Also, tell her that I love her and am very sorry if I'm not there to be with her.

I know of someone who may be able to help you. He is a professor of physics at Kentucky State University. His name is Gordon Bowles. His phone number is listed in the university directory.

Silas

The name of the KSU professor nagged at my memory. Where had I seen it before?

"He knew," I said. "He knew that they were on to him, and that he was unlikely to live through it."

"Don't jump to conclusions, Paris. He had this prepared weeks ago."

"Maybe, but he started warning us as soon as he met us. I think he found out something that caused him to act. – It doesn't matter. We have enough here to wait out the next year if we need to."

"I certainly hope not. I have no intention of living with this kind of stress for an entire year."

"Alex, we may have to live with this stress our entire lives. Or would you prefer to breed some Shadow's babies?"

"Tony couldn't have been serious, Paris. How could anyone imagine they could get away with it?"

"Alex, when you're outside the law, you can imagine anything."

She bit her lip, and looked as if she might cry. "It's monstrous."

I agreed with her. My frustration and anger was building with each new revelation. It seemed more and more likely that we would have to abandon a lifetime of believing in an orderly society that mostly obeyed the rules. The world as I knew it was being replaced by a shadow world in which everything hinged upon a freak of nature. How could someone fight that? Should we run, flee the state or the country?

Immediately I thought of Elizabeth. The thought of leaving her caused immediate mental pain. No, flight was not an option.

"We may have to do as Silas said. We may have to learn how to emulate the Shadows to survive."

"That means we have to learn Dad's secrets," Alex said. "If we can find them."

"Right," I said, "and the sooner, the better."

"Let's get to work."

Before we could start, the phone rang.

I answered it. "Hello, Fox residence."

"Paris, this is Chris, Chris Higgins."

"Mister Higgins."

"I'm calling to let you know that Silas's funeral is tomorrow at nine AM. That is if you plan on attending."

I hastily reconsidered my formal tone of voice, and responded more warmly. "We certainly do Chris, thank you for calling."

"Silas was well thought of. There will be a lot of his friends there."

"Will June Marrow attend?"

"Yes, although she is very distraught. I don't know if you are aware of the relationship between her and Silas?"

"Yes, she told us."

"She's a fine woman. I hope that people don't think ill of her because of a romantic indiscretion."

"I know she's a good woman. In fact, I offered to employ her." I felt it wouldn't hurt to let Higgins learn that other people valued her.

"Ah – yes. Well, we'll see you tomorrow."

"Count on it. Thank you, Chris. Goodbye." I hung up the phone.

I turned to Alex. "Silas' funeral is tomorrow at nine o'clock in the morning. I promised we would be there."

"Good we can give June her deed and letter."

I gestured to the study. "We need to do some research. I also want to find the phone number for the professor at KSU."

Alex walked toward the study. "I think I'll check the house for any clue to the password on that computer."

Entering the study, I browsed through the KSU web site and realized that the professor's name matched the email that Tom had sent me concerning Dad's activities on the Internet. I wrote an email to the professor, requesting a meeting as soon as possible, and added my cell phone number.

We spent the remainder of the day pouring over the data contained in the computer, searching through Dad's files, and prowling through the rooms and the attic. We didn't discover anything new.

Finally, we gave up in frustration.

* * *

The day of the funeral dawned clear and bright. I marveled at the contrast between such a somber occasion and such a glorious day.

Certainly, I thought, funerals should be accompanied by gloomy skies and threatening rain clouds, but the forecast was for more of the same, endless sunshine. Maybe it was fitting that Silas should be laid to rest on a day like this, but it was not a day one should have to attend a funeral.

Alex and I wore the same clothes that we had worn at our parents' funeral, they were dignified and somber. Alex looked good in a black dress with a short jacket top. Her wavy crown of sun-streaked chestnut hair brushed her shoulders.

I wore my charcoal-gray, pinstriped suit. During a short leave in London, I had bought it custom tailored. I knew it fit me perfectly. A creamy white shirt and dark tie completed my clothing.

At the church, the mourners paraded past the casket to pay their last respects and June Marrow sat huddled alone in one of the pews looking as if she might collapse.

We moved to her side. Alex sat on one side, and I sat on the other. Alex put her arm around her and whispered in her ear. June looked up at her and turned to look at me. Her eyes were round as she gazed questioningly. I just nodded. I reached into my inner coat pocket and removed the deed and the letter. I gave both of them to her. She glanced at the deed and examined the unopened letter.

She stood up and walked hurriedly from the church. We followed her outside to a big maple tree, and she stopped underneath its shade. We stood by while she read her letter in silence. All the while, tears streamed down her cheeks. She laughed a few times, but mostly cried, while she devoured every word. Finally, she finished the letter.

"Thank you both. This means so very much to me."

I shrugged. "It was the least we could do. Besides, it was Silas, not us. We're just messengers. Something good should come from all of this. He must have loved you very much."

"I thought I knew," she said, "but now I truly do know how much he loved me. God knows I loved him, desperately."

"Remember, my offer still stands. You can work for us if you want to."

"I need some time to learn to cope with this. After the funeral, we'll see. I do thank you for the offer though. It's very kind of you."

"Very selfish," Alex said. "You know something of what we face and Silas called you his right arm. I suspect you had more to do with handling our affairs than Silas let on and we can afford it. Think about it."

June nodded. "I will."

Alex clutched June's arm. "Good. We're going to pay our respects, and then we'll leave. Keep in touch."

We left her under the maple tree clutching her letter in her hand. I felt suddenly sad. She looked so lonely and pathetic. _This is what death leaves behind_ , I thought. It's not the pain of the deceased that was important; it was the pain of the living.

We reentered the church and joined the line winding toward Silas' casket. It was closed. We reached it and I paused, vowing to avenge someone who had become a mentor to Alex and I, and who had paid for that loyalty with his life.

We stopped and talked to Chris Higgins. We explained that we had not bought flowers, asked him to make a contribution from our accounts to a charity in Silas' name, and left the church.

Alex and I walked out to the church parking lot. I keyed the remote on the Camaro's door locks and got in the car. I started it up and set the air conditioner to full blast.

"Ah. That feels good. I thought I was going to cook in this suit," I said. "I need to buy a new suit for the summer."

"You do look good in it. Maybe you can buy one from the same place it came from."

"London?" I started to protest, and then thought, why not? Why not fly to London? We could take Beth and Caesar with us. My mood brightened at the thought, and I resolved to propose it tomorrow.

"Maybe that's a good idea."

Alex looked surprised, but didn't say anything. She looked thoughtful. "Maybe it is."

I drove the car out of the church parking lot and onto the highway. I headed back to the farm, thinking of how I would propose the idea of flying to London just to buy a suit. I drove at a sedate pace, never exceeding the speed limit.

The countryside flowed by, the trees and grass in their full growth, ready for summer. Out of habit, I periodically scanned my rear view mirrors and instrument clusters. In one of my scans, I spotted a car that had just emerged from a side street. It was black, but it was too far back to discern significant detail. I continued to observe it as it came closer. Soon it was obvious, a black Mercedes with heavily tinted windows.

"Looks like we've got company." I said calmly, looking at the rear-view mirror.

Alex turned to look behind us. "So we do. How do we handle this?"

"Just wait." I continued to drive at the speed limit, hoping that the car would pass us and we could get a look at the occupants. The car settled into a matching speed, following about four car lengths behind.

"See if you can read the license plate," I said. "Maybe we can trace it."

"I'll bet it's phony, but I guess it's worth a try," she replied.

I continued to drive at the speed limit, and the car continued to pace me, keeping the same distance. The further we rode, the more my anger and frustration built.

I finally decided I'd had enough and slowed down. The following car slowed and kept pace. We drove along an empty section of the road. I slowed still more. The car maintained the same distance. I slowed the Camaro still further, and finally rolled to a stop. The Mercedes stopped at the same time.

"Do you think this is wise?" Alex asked nervously.

"Not necessarily, but I want to shake these bastards up. Open the glove box."

Alex opened the compartment.

"Hand me that knife, and a can of Mace."

She hesitated. I reached over and removed the knife. It was a sheathed military Kabar that I had purchased while I was in the Army and I kept it razor sharp. I slid the knife in the back waistband of my suit pants and Alex gave me the can of Mace.

"Get in the driver's seat, and lock the doors. If something goes wrong, drive back to the farm."

"Paris – she bit her lip, and didn't say anything further.

I opened the door and got out of the car. Alex silently emerged from the passenger seat and went around to the driver's side door.

"Don't get killed on me asshole." She glared at me.

I laughed. "Furthest thing from my mind. I just plan to reason with these bastards."

"Reason. Yeah." She entered the car and locked the doors.

I checked for traffic on the road. There wasn't any. I walked back to the Mercedes, which sat at the side of the road, idling. I approached the car carefully, alert for any attempt to drive off.

I didn't want to be run down in my nice tailored suit. It would ruin it.

I reached the driver's side door and waited. Nothing happened. The windshield glass was so dark it was nearly opaque. I could just discern a shape in the driver's seat, and one passenger. I knocked on the window. "Open up asshole. I want to talk to you."

Nothing.

I waited for any move on the part of the occupants, until the road was totally clear of traffic.

At that point, I quickly reached behind my back, pulled out the knife, and rammed it to the hilt in the sidewall of the left front tire. I knew better than to aim at the broad steel-belted surface. I waited for a heartbeat, and walked to the rear of the car. I gave it the same treatment. The whole sequence from start to finish, had taken a few seconds. The occupants didn't have time to react.

"Drive on that," I yelled. I re-sheathed the knife, and returned it to my pants. I saw the Camaro's backup lights flicker on, and Alex backed the car to my position.

"Get in, you idiot," she said from the open window.

I opened the passenger side door, and slid in the seat. No sooner had I settled in, than she roared off down the highway, spinning rubber for a long way.

"God. That felt good," I said.

Alex looked worried. "You could have been killed, Paris. Don't do it again."

I looked back at the Mercedes. It was not moving and no one had emerged from the car.

"I didn't think they would try. I think they're just following our moves to plan a snatch. I needed to remind them that we have teeth."

Her jaw clenched. "They could have had guns."

"Next time I'll not use a knife."

"There better not be a next time."

I sighed. "I have to do something, Alex, or I'll go crazy from the frustration."

"You're already crazy, pulling that stunt. What if they call the cops?"

"I'll deny it. Besides, they're Shadows. I don't think they want to involve the police in this."

"You could be wrong."

I just shrugged. "I think we need to hit the shooting range today."

"Okay. Let's go home and change –"

At that point, my cell phone rang. I looked at the caller ID. It was a number in Georgetown, but I couldn't identify the name. I answered the phone.

"Hello."

"Hello. I'm calling for Mister Fox, are you him?"

"Yes, I'm him, and who are you?"

"You sent me an email, Mister Fox. My name is Gordon Bowles."

Again, the name sounded familiar. Had I read it on Dad's list? Then it came to me. "Ah. Professor Bowles. Thank you for calling."

"Are you by any chance the son of John Fox?"

"Yes, he was my father."

"I was sorry to learn of his passing, he and I were colleagues. He was a very talented man."

"Thank you. We, my sister and I, miss him very much."

"Oh, is your sister with you? Isn't her name Joan?"

I was a little puzzled. If he were close to my dad, he would know Alex's name. I decided to nibble. "No, her name is Alexandra." I said cautiously.

He was silent for a moment. "Just checking, Mister Fox. Okay, I believe you. Now, what do you want?"

I decided to be frank. "To be honest, Professor, we are in trouble, and we were informed by our father that you might be able to help us."

"The Shadows?" he asked.

"How did you know? – Yes."

"Too bad, I'm sorry to hear that. How were you given my name? I don't have the knowledge your father had and heaven knows, I'm not equipped to oppose the Shadows."

"My father provided the information on the day he died. He seemed to feel that you were one of the people who could assist us." I deliberately didn't mention Silas.

He paused for a moment. "Maybe. Why don't you come to my house for dinner, and we'll talk about it."

I did some mental calculations. KSU was located in Frankfort, Kentucky, but the address I had for Bowles from Dad's list, put him near Georgetown, just north of Lexington. The place was not as far away as Covington, about half the distance. It would take a couple of hours.

"Good. We'll be there. We'll be driving a late-model yellow Camaro. I'll be wearing a green shirt, and Alex –"

I looked at her. "Orange blouse," she said.

"Alex will be wearing an orange blouse. We both have brown hair, medium height. Don't let anyone in who doesn't match that description."

"I see you're being careful. Good." he replied. "Oh. And bring the letter, I want to read it."

"Should we bring anything else?"

"No I think not. Here's my address. Have you a pen?"

"Just a moment." I opened the glove box and took out a pen and an old envelope.

"Go ahead." He recited his number over the phone, and I wrote it down. I checked it against my memory of Dad's list. It looked the same, but I resolved to check it later.

"Okay, what time should we be there?"

"As close to six o'clock as possible. Can you make it?"

"I think so. I'll call you at this number if there's a problem," I said.

"Good. See you at six. Good bye."

"Good bye." I disconnected.

"So, what's the plan?" Alex asked.

"We're going to his house for dinner. We need to be there before six. We should probably leave at three o'clock. That leaves a little time for the shooting range."

At that point, Alex turned into the front lawn at the farm.

Although I had been busy on the phone, I hadn't seen any evidence we were being followed. We went into the house, changed into some grubby clothes, and then took Alex's truck to the firing range.

At the range, Alex showed some improvement. I knew that if she were under stress, her aim would become wilder, so I concentrated on trying to teach her rapid firing, hoping it would help. We skipped lunch and instead, practiced with the handguns.

Soon, it was time to leave, so we packed up and headed back to the house. I kept up my surveillance, but we didn't see any car following us.

"I wonder who those clowns in the Mercedes were," I said, as we drove back to the farm. "Could they have been the ones who think they own us?"

"That sounds so alien, Paris. How can anyone think that they own somebody?"

"You should try living in Iraq or Afghanistan. Women are property there. Your husband or father would consider you expendable."

"That is soo – wrong." She shuddered.

"We're lucky we live in the U.S., Alex."

"So, how could anyone living in the States think that they could own someone?"

I shrugged. "It happens all over the world, Sis."

"I'd rather die first."

"Me too, but I think I'd want to take a lot of those bastards with me."

Parking the truck at the house, we cleaned the guns and changed into some more decent clothes, making sure that the colors were appropriate.

We took the letter and other documents, and headed to Lexington.

Lexington was one of the largest cities in Kentucky. The Professor's address was in a rural community north of the city, near Georgetown. I settled down for a long drive. Most of the way would be by the interstate highway, but to get there we would have to navigate some rural country roads, and it would slow us down.

I reached the interstate and headed north. After over an hour, I drove into Lexington, and headed through the city, still heading north. A few miles north of Lexington, I found the turnoff to the town and the highway leading to the Professor's address.

We entered a bedroom community, with large houses set well back on the properties. Large, well-kept lawns stretched in front of them. I finally pulled up in front of the address on the envelope.

"This is it," I said. "I guess I'll park in the driveway." I turned onto the driveway leading to the house, and parked the Camaro in plain sight of the front windows. We got out of the car, and walked to the front door, rang the doorbell and waited.

After a few moments, the door was opened by a man who I assumed was Professor Bowles. He was shorter than us, wore glasses, and had a fringe of gray hair surrounding a totally bald head. He wore khaki slacks, and a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

"Mister Fox?"

"Yes, please call me Paris. This is my sister, Alexandra." She nodded at him.

"I'm Gordon, Gordy to my friends. Please come in." We entered the house, and followed Gordon down a brief entryway to the front room.

"Have a seat," he said, gesturing toward the overstuffed couch in the room. "My wife is cooking, she'll join us shortly. I was just about to open a bottle of wine. I'm afraid I'm the one who started John drinking the beverage. Would you like a glass?"

"Why not?" I said.

"Good." He hurried out of the room and returned with a corkscrew and four glasses. "This is a good vintage. I think you'll like it."

He used the corkscrew on a bottle, which was sitting on the coffee table, and poured four wine glasses with a ruby red vintage.

Alex and I settled back into the couch, and Gordon took a big easy chair. He sipped the wine, and a pleased look lit his features. "Ah that's good." He relaxed with a smile.

I took a sip from my glass. The wine was not too sweet, and had a fragrant aroma. I was inclined to agree with him.

We each sampled the wine in silence.

I sat my glass on the coffee table. "How did you come to know my father?" I asked.

"He visited the campus as a guest lecturer. He was very good. Made history come alive. The whole campus talked about him. There was even some talk of hiring him. I met him at a faculty get-together. When he learned I was a physics professor, he started peppering me with questions about the possible physics of mind control. Well, one topic led to another, and soon we found that we had something in common. We had both had encounters with the Shadows. We became friends."

He took a drink. "Nothing came from the hiring rumors, and at any rate, I doubt that he would have accepted a job, he was very independent. He finished the lecture series, but we stayed in contact, corresponding or visiting as often as we could find time. I really liked your father."

The physics of mind control? Was that what had led Dad to learn about the Shadow's abilities? Before I could ask him, Alex spoke.

"How did you come to be aware of the Shadows?" she asked.

"I was working at Los Almos in New Mexico. I was developing thermal imaging sights for the Army and happened to be using one to scan a section of the grounds outside the lab, when I noticed that the imager was picking up something that shouldn't be there.

"It was an outline of a human body, but there was no one there, at least not visually. I was alarmed. Los Almos is a highly secure facility, and it could have been a spy who was using some new camouflage method, one that we had never seen before. I notified security at the lab."

He laughed. "Caused a big panic. There was a thorough search of the facility, including scanning the campus with the thermal imager, but they couldn't find anything. To my knowledge, the Shadows never emerged at the Lab again.

"However, no good deed goes unpunished. After a while, when the furor had died down, I lost my security clearance. The security people were very unhappy with me. They said I was subject to hallucinations. I was given my severance check, and escorted off the campus. Much later, I ran across an article concerning invisible people. At first, I dismissed it as nutty, pseudo-science, but started investigating. After a while, I was almost convinced, but it wasn't until I met your father, I was really sure."

He took another sip of wine, apparently remembering the past. "I learned later, that to stir up the Shadows was a bad career move. I've kept my inquires divorced from the University. In fact, I would have refused to meet you on the campus."

"Do you think that the Shadows were responsible for getting you fired?" I asked.

"Now, I'm sure of it. At the time, I had no knowledge of their mental abilities. John enlightened me on that subject."

At that point, a short, plump woman emerged from the hallway. She had gray hair bound in a ponytail, a pleasing face, and a mischievous twinkle in her deep brown eyes. She was dressed in an attractive red blouse with dark slacks.

Gordon stood. "Oh. Dinner must be ready. Meet my wife, Emma. Em, these are Paris and Alexandra, John's children."

We stood, and Emma immediately walked over and embraced Alex. I took her proffered hand and briefly squeezed it.

"Pleased to meet you. Your parents' were such good friends. Gordy's right, dinner is on the table. Bring your drinks."

We moved into the dining room, the table was set for four, and aromas that reminded me that we hadn't eaten caused my mouth to water. "Smells good."

"Em's a good cook. I think I'll keep her." Gordon said, smiling at his wife.

We sat down at the table, and Emma dished out the meal. "I was very sad when I heard about the death of your parents. I liked John and Jenny very much," she said as she worked. "I'll miss them. It's hard to cope with the death of one parent, let alone two."

"We're at least past the shock," I replied. "I don't think I'll ever accept it, though."

"I know I won't," Alex said.

We ate for a while in silence. Finally, Gordon spoke.

"Em knows about my – hobby. She, of course, thinks I'm crazy. She just loves me too much to have me committed." He grinned.

"Gordy, we've had this discussion before. Invisible people, Huh. Did your father convince you two of his delusions?" Emma asked.

"Uh, actually, we didn't learn of this until they passed away." Alex replied.

"Let's hold this conversation after dinner in my study." Gordon said. "The less Emma knows the better for her."

Emma looked at him nervously, a little doubt on her face. "Okay, I'm all for that," she said.

We spent the remainder of the meal making small talk. Gordon and Emma reminisced about times they had spent with our parents. I felt a little depressed from the topic, so I finished my glass of wine. The food and the dessert were delicious, and I complimented Emma on her cooking.

She smiled, obviously pleased. "I attended a fine culinary school. It's not often I get to cook for people who can appreciate it. Gordy just inhales it and gains weight."

"Hump." He snorted. "Actually, Em wrote a very popular cookbook. I'm sure she'll give you a copy, if you ask," he said grinning.

"Not without cash in hand, wise guy. That book is a best seller," she retorted.

"I believe I already own a copy." I said. "I recognize your picture now. It's on the back cover."

"Don't inflate her ego any more Paris, she'll be insufferable."

I watched them banter back and forth. While they joked and laughed, I thought about Elizabeth. It would be wonderful to have a loving relationship like theirs when we grew older.

Emma poured each of us a cup of coffee, and Alex and I followed Gordon to his study, carrying our cups and saucers.

We sat down in the study, sipping the aromatic brew.

"So how much do you know?" Gordon asked.

"Quite a bit," Alex replied. "Sometimes I think, too much."

"Actually, we need to know some of how our father was able to do what the Shadows can do," I said. "We had a conversation with one of them, and he told us some unsettling things."

Gordon looked surprised. "How did you – Oh. I forgot. You're half Shadow yourselves, aren't you? You can see them. I never thought – That is, your father said that your birth mother was a Shadow, but it never occurred to me that you could see them. This changes everything."

"How?" I asked. "So far, being able to see them makes it more complicated, not less."

We told him about the events of the past few days, and how our abilities hadn't helped us. We told him what Tony had said to us, and filled him in on some of their supposed history. We tried to relate what Tony said about the Houses, and revealed that our father had died a rich man, leaving everything to us. We spoke of the death of our lawyer, and our suspicions that it wasn't suicide. Finally, we ran out of words.

"Extraordinary." Gordon exclaimed. "For all of this to happen in a matter of weeks – But, more important, is the fact that you two are a living laboratory. If you could harness your abilities, and teach others to do it, think of the implications."

"That is the problem, Gordy. Think of a world in which everyone could do what the Shadows can. It would be chaos. Besides, they're going to do everything they can to make sure it doesn't happen."

"You have a point." He went silent, thinking. Eventually he responded. "Did you bring your father's letter?"

"Yes." I handed it to him.

He read it. "It's too bad your stepmother died when he did. John was right. She could have been a big help to you."

"How? Dad seemed to indicate she had some knowledge of the Shadows, but I fail to see how it could have helped us," I said.

"Oh," he said, "didn't you know? Your stepmother was a Shadow."

I was floored. Alex looked sick. Neither of us could speak.

Gordon looked at us pityingly. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have dropped it on you like that. I imagine it was a bombshell."

"That's putting it mildly," I croaked through a tight throat.

Alex had tears in her eyes.

"I never once – ever thought – ever, had the slightest suspicion. She was the most kind, loving person I ever knew. She must have been holding this inside for many years." My voice was very raspy. "Do you have any more of that wine? I could use some."

Gordon left and returned with a fresh bottle. He filled three glasses to the brim and handed one to each of us.

"Don't think that just because someone is a Shadow, that they can't be a decent person," Gordon said. "Your mother was a prime example. Not all of the Shadows are monsters."

"I guess we're learning that," I said miserably. "How was she able to fool us?"

"She didn't. Your stepmother was one of the unique ones. She could turn it on and off at will. She was an Adept. Most of them do it unconsciously. They can't control it. I imagine that's why the Shadows want to abduct you two." He looked at us worriedly.

"Look. Your stepmother was special. I didn't know how special until they told us about you. You see, when you were born, one of the more enlightened groups took it upon themselves to prevent you from becoming a danger to yourselves and others. After your birth mother disappeared, John was in terrible shape. They sent Jenny to him to help him to recover and to protect you. She fell in love with John and never looked back. She would have died for him, in fact, she did die for him. I know she loved you, I saw it. She deserves your respect and your love, not your anger. She was a wonderful person. You should be proud of her."

I knew he was right. I loved her. Whatever had motivated her to care for us came from the heart. It was just the shock of learning it like this.

"I guess we need a little time to become accustomed to the idea," Alex said. "It really doesn't change the way I feel about her. She'll always be my mother, regardless of her background. It was just such a shock."

I bowed my head staring at the floor. "You know, maybe we were lucky. I imagine that if we had been raised by normal people, we would have been in a lot of psychiatrist's offices, trying to cure us of our delusions, trying to prevent us from seeing invisible people. We would have been drugged, twisted, and convinced that we were insane. Now that I'm thinking about it, we have been two very fortunate people. I wonder how our half siblings managed to cope with it."

"Let's change the subject," Gordon said. "The letter mentions some objects designed to protect you. Did you bring one with you?"

My hand immediately went to the chain looped around my neck. I'd removed the bag previously, and had been wearing the medallion constantly without thinking about it. I'd even showered with it. I noticed that Alex made the same gesture. I pulled it from my shirt, unclasped the chain and handed to him.

"The medallion's enclosed in the locket." I said.

Gordon opened the locket and removed the medallion. He studied it closely. "Do you know anything about this?" he asked.

"There was a description of the construction of the piece in one of Dad's computer files. I imagine it was used by the jeweler to make it. It's weird. There are several different layers of metals, and at least one layer of wood in it. I can't see how it would protect us, but I know we can feel some sort of influence from it."

Gordon became excited. "I wonder – could he have. – No. – It's not possible. It's crazy. But maybe – Could you email the file to me? John and I speculated, – but how did he accomplish it," he mused.

"I don't know, but there's an entire house sheathed in the same material. We're living in it." I replied.

"Wait. Didn't you say the Shadows can't enter your house?"

"So they claim. I've seen the reaction of one of them when I tried to force her into the house, so I'm inclined to believe them. The whole thing is connected to the house wiring."

He became even more excited. "I need to look at the house as soon as possible."

"I wouldn't recommend it." Alex said. "The Shadows are watching it. I don't think you'll want them to notice you. We've put enough people in jeopardy, as it is." She looked worriedly at me.

"It's not a problem." I said. "I can email you a complete set of the CAD drawings used to construct the basement room. That's when the sheath was installed."

"Extraordinary." Gordon said. He examined the medallion intently. "I can feel that this object is not right. At least, not right for me. It repels me, as though I'm not its rightful owner. How is that possible?"

"How is any of this possible? Are there any theories or science that explains it? I'm an engineer. I thought I understood physics. This whole impossible thing that's happening around us doesn't fit any science that I have ever learned."

"Actually, there is, but you have to understand a branch of physics that I believe no physicist really understands."

"What do you mean?" I said.

He thought for a minute. "Let me backtrack. You remember that I told you that John was questioning me about the physics of the mind?"

I nodded.

"Well, his questions led me to start a new line of research. Specifically, into the physics of how the mind would have to work, to produce the extraordinary things that the mind is capable of, including the possibility of mind control. – Understand. It takes energy to make something change. If you were talking about mind reading or control of someone's mind, you would have to produce a large amount of power, just using your brain, to affect that change. The brain is not capable of creating that amount of power. In addition, you would have to employ some medium that would transfer from your brain to the brain of someone else.

"I tested all of the known types of radiation, and concluded that the brain could not do that. This left me with a dilemma. If John was right, and the Shadows could influence someone to not see them, then something else had to be happening to their brain. Something that was outside our physics or something in the realm of physics that could explain it." He waited for us to absorb his words.

"Fortunately, there is a branch of physics that might be able to do it, Quantum Physics. Have you heard of it?"

"When I watch television, I watch the Science Channel, not sitcoms," Alex said. "Yes, I've heard of it."

"I studied Quantum Physics in college," I added. "But it seemed more like statistics and probability than anything else."

"That's Quantum Mechanics," Gordon replied, "and yes, it does calculate the probability that a particle will behave in a certain, predictable manner. It's a useful tool.

"However, Quantum physics tries to explain how the quantum world works. It involves a lot of esoteric math and theories based upon that math. It's Quantum Physics and its theories that I believe hold the key to how the Shadows can manipulate normal humans." He paused.

"No one truly understands quantum principles. If anyone tells they do, you can be sure that he or she is a liar."

He chuckled. "I think there are three theories in Quantum Physics that bear upon the Shadows abilities. One of these theories is called Entanglement. This is the theory that two, or possibly more, quantum particles can be associated. Somehow they become connected. We've been able to create this association in lab experiments.

"Once associated, if one particle changes its properties, the other particle follows instantly, becoming the shadow image of the first.

"The second theory is Simultaneity. This theory postulates that the interaction between two entangled particles occurs instantaneously, without any time involved. The last was coined by Albert Einstein. He called it 'spooky action at a distance'.

"It postulates that the simultaneous action of quantum particles may occur instantaneously, regardless of the distance apart the particles are." He waited for us to comment, and then continued.

"For all of these theories to be true, some kind of communication must be taking place between the particles. Although we have been able to produce some of these phenomena in the lab, using lasers that are limited to the speed of light, science has not been able to adequately explain how instant communication between particles may be possible.

"I believe that these theories, and the supposed communication medium, account for the bizarre abilities that the shadows possess. It would fit all the known, observable effects."

"Occam's Razor," I said. "The simplest theory that fits all the known observable effects is usually the correct one."

"Precisely." Gordon replied, and then he continued. "We believe we know that the quantum world is real and it exists, regardless of how bizarre its properties may be. It's part of our science. Therefore, when you are faced with a phenomenon that requires a whole new realm of scientific theory to explain, go with what you know."

"How does this help us cope with the Shadows?" Alex asked. "It's all well and good to theorize how they do what they do, but how do we make them stop it, and leave us alone?"

"I'm getting to that," Gordon replied. "That hinges on the next part of my story." He continued.

"Based upon my theory, John and I set out to find some area of the Shadow's brain or body that could use quantum principles to be able to virtually disappear from the sight of normal people. For obvious reasons, we couldn't find a Shadow to dissect, but fortunately, we did have the cooperation of a real live Shadow, Jenny, your stepmother.

"She agreed to allow us to experiment upon her, to try and find out what the differences were between Shadow physiology and normal humans. We started by concentrating on the brain, because Jenny insisted that her mind was the key factor in exercising her abilities."

He cleared his throat nervously, obviously reluctant to continue.

"I believe that was the first time I truly believed that the Shadows were real. We'd enlisted the aid of some like-minded friends who had access to a PET scanner. We were all nervous about Jenny being exposed to the powerful magnetic fields that the machine could generate. We didn't have any idea what could happen. That was when I saw her revert to her natural state. She disappeared right before my eyes. I have to tell you at that moment, I felt a stab of fear."

He visibly composed himself and continued.

"The plan was to have her control it and then revert back, so that we could measure the differences in various parts of her brain. That never happened. What we saw was amazing.

"When the scanner started working, she started flickering in and out like a defective movie projector. She also moaned, in obvious pain. It was frightening.

"We quickly stopped the machine, and removed her from the scanning area. She had lost consciousness. We were terrified that we had injured or killed her.

"One of our friends was a doctor, and she applied first aid until we could get her to an emergency room. Fortunately she revived, but with a major headache. We never tried that again. She later said that the feeling was like thousands of tiny icy needles all over her body."

"I thought the brain couldn't feel pain because there are no pain receptors there." I said.

"It can't," Gordon replied, "however; it collects the nerve impulses from the body and interprets them as a pain sensation. Apparently, we had stimulated the neurons in the brain that sense pain in the body. Although that may not seem significant, it later turned out to be an important clue.

"We'd also preserved some of the data that we'd acquired during the time that the PET scanner was turned on.

"At first, it was difficult to interpret the data, but one of our colleagues came up with an important insight. You see we were expecting unusual areas of the brain to become active when Jenny became invisible. He discovered that the correct interpretation was just the opposite.

"When Jenny was invisible, her brain looked like a normal brain, but when she became visible, areas in the frontal cortex and visual portions of the brain ceased to function.

"In fact when she was visible, her brain looked like that of a brain-damaged patient, or a mentally retarded person. It seemed to become visible, Jenny had to shut down significant portions of her brain.

"In light of these discoveries, I started seriously researching the physics associated with brain functions. I actually wrote a few papers on the subject and they were well received by the physics community. I've learned a lot about brain function from that time, but not, apparently, as much as your father did."

"Why do you say that?" Alex asked.

"John managed to learn how to acquire some of the Shadow's abilities."

"Do you have any idea as to how he accomplished that?" I asked.

"No, if my theories are correct, he shouldn't have had the physical brain structure required. However, I must emphasize, my opinion rests only on a theory. A theory which may be totally flawed. Perhaps some physical process, for which we don't have the science to understand, is occurring here. Nevertheless, he was able to accomplish it."

"Yeah. Well, it seems that his accomplishment is one of the reasons that the Shadows are hounding us," I said.

Gordon looked excited. "Actually, John was perusing the problem from a different perspective. I kept him informed of my progress, and he shared his. He was researching from a historical viewpoint, thinking that folklore and the practical experience of ancient cultures might hold some clues as to how at least to prevent the Shadows from influencing normal people. He was particularly interested in runes, hex signs and symbols and how they might disrupt the Shadow's powers."

"There are all kinds of designs, which might be symbols, on our basement walls," I mused.

"I need to study the construction of that shield, if that's what it is, as soon as you can email me the drawings," Gordon replied.

"One thing that I don't understand," Alex ventured, "is how the Shadow's minds can influence someone's brain. I don't know much about anatomy, but as I understand it, there are millions of nerve cells involved in being able to see. How could their brains control that many cells?"

"More like billions of cells," Gordon replied. "However, that turns out to be the easy part. You see, the brain is easy to fool."

"Define easy," I said.

"I'll do better. I'll show you," Gordon replied.

He arose from his desk chair, and walked over to a filing cabinet. He opened one of the sliding drawers, and rummaged through the files, emerging with a piece of paper. He held so we couldn't see the front. He walked up to us and paused about three feet away. He reversed the paper, and showed it to us. There was a picture on the paper.

"Do you recognize this person?" He said. "Who is it?"

It was obvious, the picture was easy to recognize. It was one of the most famous faces in the world. "It's Albert Einstein," I replied. "Anyone can see that."

"Correct." Gordon said. He reversed the paper, and walked over to a corner of the room. He reversed the paper again, and said, "Now, who is it?"

I stared in amazement. The picture had changed. Now, the image was of an attractive blond woman. Someone I had seen before, but couldn't remember. Before I could say anything, Alex blurted out.

"You switched the pictures on us."

Gordon grinned. He walked toward us, with the picture plainly visible. As he approached us, the image changed, until the face of Albert Einstein emerged. Then, he walked back, and the picture changed to the blond woman.

"Who's the woman?" I asked. "She looks familiar."

"Ah. You young people," Gordon replied. "That's the image of one of the most famous actresses in the world. At least from my era. It's Marilyn Monroe."

Gordon handed us the paper to see the image from a closer perspective. Although I tried and concentrated, I could not resolve the image into Marilyn Monroe. It stubbornly remained a picture of Albert Einstein.

"I have on file hundreds of examples of items that fool the brain. Things that make your mind perceive something that's not there, or ignore something that is there. You see, although you may not consciously acknowledge it, your brain is a pattern recognition machine. It may seem that you are seeing the real world, but in reality, you are seeing your brain's interpretation of the real world. It only takes a little tweaking to eliminate something from your world view."

"That gives me a whole different way of looking at things." I said. "I think that we have a lot to consider, but this doesn't make it any easier. We still don't know how to beat these bastards."

"Didn't John's papers or computer files give you any clues?" Gordon asked.

"Nothing," I replied, "there was nothing about the Shadows, except for some references to the Internet, the abductions of our supposed siblings, and the drawings for the house."

"Hum." Gordon mused. "That doesn't sound right. I know for a fact that John had an extensive collection of reference material he'd acquired. It took two filing cabinets to hold it."

He thought for a moment. "Unless he scanned it all to the computer. In which case, he would most likely have backed the computer up with compact disks or something. Did you find any disks?"

"I checked all of the disks," Alex said. "There was nothing but research for books he'd written, or books he planned to write. Nothing about the Shadows."

"Then it has to be in the house somewhere. Have you searched?"

"No, with so much happening, it hasn't been a priority," I replied. "Now, I guess we have to make it a priority."

"I can help you to a certain extent," Gordon said, "but I won't put Emma's safety in jeopardy. I'm sorry, but I hope you understand. She knows nothing of this and I want to keep it that way. If you find anything important, email it to my home account. I'll give you the address. I prefer to keep my extracurricular activities separate from my work at the University."

I chuckled. "I think I can understand why."

"Yeah," Alex said. "I can imagine the nightly news now, 'University Physics Professor declares that invisible people plague mankind.' – details at five o'clock."

Gordon laughed. "You do get the idea." Then he became more sober. "Seriously, I am a believer. I know the Shadows exist. I just don't know how it's possible, or how to deal with it."

"Then you can appreciate our dilemma," I said. "We not only must prevent them from abducting us, but we must protect our father's secrets and guard the people who are close to us. I haven't any idea how to accomplish that."

"Well, I'll give you all the help I can. At least in an advisory capacity."

"Thanks Gordy, it's good to know we have an ally in this mess," Alex said.

"We should probably call it a night," I said. "We've got a lot to think about. Alex and I have a date tomorrow with some close friends. I'll email you the data as soon as we get home."

As we left we said goodnight to Emma, who was watching television. Gordon walked us out to the Camaro, and waved goodbye.

As we drove toward Jamestown, I thought about our problems and how to cope with them.

As an officer in the Army, I'd been trained in the art of strategy and tactics, and had learned the differences between them. One of the steps in devising a strategy was to understand the enemy's strengths and weaknesses. Then you could devise tactics to counter the strengths and take advantage of the weak areas. Was there anything in my military training that could help us cope with our situation?

Strategically, the Shadows had overwhelming advantages. They could move among the normal populous without notice, and possibly influence the decisions of key people. They weren't subservient to ordinary armed force, because they didn't achieve their objectives by the use of weapons other than their brains. If I injured or killed one of them, it would be my freedom that would be in jeopardy even if the victim were a threat to me or Alex, because no one could, or would believe I acted in self-defense.

This was further complicated by the fact that they could use Caesar or Elizabeth to force us to do anything they wanted. One solution to that problem would be to divorce ourselves from any relationship with either of them. The thought of that option twisted my gut and caused me to almost drown in misery. I realized that I was incapable of abandoning the relationship, and I was certain that if I proposed the idea to Alex, I would meet a stone wall. I cast that idea from my mind.

We would have to protect them.

Now, what were the Shadow's weaknesses? They were cowards who hid among the normal human world and feared exposure. They didn't present a united front, but were a hodgepodge of competing Houses and clans, each with its own agenda. They relied upon stealing what they needed from the efforts of the normal human world. It seemed that their strengths exceeded their weaknesses, but it was comforting to know that they had vulnerabilities. The question was how to exploit the weak points, and defend from their strengths.

"What are you thinking about?" Alex asked, disrupting my thoughts.

"How to beat these bastards."

"I've been thinking about that too," she said. "I can only see one solution. One or both of us must learn how to duplicate their abilities. That will change the whole equation and give us more freedom of action."

I was impressed. I'd been skirting around the idea, afraid to explore that option. Assuming we could discover how to do it, which one of us should attempt to accomplish it?

Alex solved the problem for me. "I'll do it. Dad seemed to think that I was the strongest."

"It's a little early to be deciding this," I said. "We don't even know if the information exists, or where it is. I'll tell you what, if the time comes, I'll flip you for it."

"Rocks, paper, scissors?" Alex asked and grinned.

"No way, you're too good at that. Coin flipping – my coin." I grinned back, and then I became more serious. "Besides, we don't even know if we can learn how to do it. Let's agree to decide when the time comes."

"I think we need to try Dad's computer again," Alex said. "There's got to be a way to access it. Surely, there must be a clue there somewhere."

"We won't have much time to search for it. I'm supposed to be back in Covington soon, and I don't know how much longer I can keep Harvey happy enough to avoid getting fired. If you don't make your mind up about school, you could lose your acceptance and your tuition, and even though we've got all that money, that's not small change. Then, there's Caesar and Elizabeth. What do we do about them?"

"Yeah, that's the biggie," she sighed. "Maybe tomorrow we can talk to them. Life has become too complicated. I wish Mom and Dad were alive. Now we're on our own, and there's no one to talk to. No one to help with the big life decisions. Without you or Caesar, I would feel so all alone. I don't know how I could cope with it."

I could sense she was depressed so I tried to lighten the mood. "Well, we do have a big day tomorrow. We're going to meet the parents – or parent. It must be getting serious."

"It's already serious," she replied. "If he asked, I'd live with him – in a heartbeat. Isn't that crazy? Usually, I'm so collected. I would never make choices like that in such a short time. But this, this is almost like a compulsion. I can't explain it. But I know that if something happened to end it, I would never get over it. The thought is frightening."

I didn't say anything. I knew how she felt, because I felt the same way. I didn't want to vocalize it, because it was painful to think that it might all end badly. I had never been in love before. Should I just resolve to forget it, and pretend that it never happened? Go on with my life? That thought brought a fresh stab of pain. No, I could not abandon this opportunity. No matter what, I would pursue this to its end, good or bad.

"If we're crazy, Alex, then I, for one, don't want to be sane. No matter what happens, I'll be there for you, and you'll be there for me. We'll weather this together, somehow."
Chapter 16

### Meet the parent

The next day promised thunderstorms. The clouds built ominously, and the weather reports predicted high winds and a lot of water. It was not the best day to take a trip to unfamiliar territory, but we were resolved to make the attempt.

"We're gonna drown," Alex said.

"We have umbrellas."

"We're still gonna drown."

We impatiently waited to leave for the Rowan's house.

I hadn't slept very well. When my mind wasn't restlessly searching for some way to resolve our problems, I thought about what I would say to Elizabeth. Alex and I had both independently decided to dress causal, but not down to jeans and a tee shirt.

Alex wore sandals, a maroon, knee-length skirt and white, frilly blouse, and I was dressed in leather oxblood loafers, brown slacks, and a pale yellow dress shirt with a button-down collar. Anxious about the coming lunch with Mister Rowan, we'd both tried to be dressy, without being overdressed.

"Maybe we should change into something that won't get ruined by the rain," Alex said.

"Too late, we've got to go. We'll just hope the rain doesn't start until we get there and stops before we leave. I suggest we both take our own vehicles. That way, if we have the time, we can take them for a drive, and talk about – things."

"Yeah – things."

We locked the house, started our cars, and drove to the Rowan's house. The sky darkened, hiding the sun. It wouldn't be long before the cloudburst.

The Rowan place was about ten miles north of Jamestown. It only took twenty minutes to get there.

Sited off of a small side road that wound back into a wooded area, the house had a wide, well-kept front lawn, a sweeping driveway, and sat in front of a substantial section of the woods.

We parked in front of the house and exited the vehicles. The front door of the house opened, and Elizabeth and Caesar emerged.

"Hurry, come in before the rain starts," Caesar said.

Alex paused for a moment, and ran up to the porch, hurling herself into Caesar's open arms. I wasn't far behind and enfolded Elizabeth in mine.

I held her as though I hadn't been with her for ages. She leaned back, and looked at me with those deep violet eyes. A feeling of warmth and contentment suffused me. It was as though an important piece of my body had returned from a long absence. She nearly purred and we kissed. I knew then, no matter what, I could never let her go.

We went inside, just before the downpour started, standing in the living room as the steady drumming of hard rain beat on the front windows.

The room looked like an English country home, with solid wood beams in the ceiling and what appeared to be antiques or reproductions of old English furnishings. It was stately and dignified.

Sitting in a wheelchair was a handsome, silver-haired, steely-eyed man. I could see that at one time he had sported a powerful frame, but sickness had removed his strength. The illness had done nothing however, to prevent his critical gaze from assessing our every movement. I had a feeling we would have a difficult time meeting his approval.

"Father," Caesar said formally, "this is Paris and Alexandra Fox. Alexandra, Paris, this is my father Edward Rowan."

I moved forward and offered my hand. He never lost eye contact. Fortunately, I had to deal with some powerful officers during my Army days, and I was accustomed to being stared down. I returned his look with a steady one of my own. He paused, and then extended his hand to be shaken. His grip was firm, and in other times would have been powerful. "Mister Fox," he said.

"Pleased to meet you sir," I replied.

Then, it was Alex's turn to be overpowered. She approached him with an anxious look, but he smiled, and said. "Miss Fox. You're very lovely. I can see why Caesar is smitten."

"Thank you sir." She glanced nervously at Caesar.

"Have you finished intimidating our guests sufficiently?" Elizabeth said imperiously. "I thought you were going to behave."

Edward winced. "You know my feelings in the matter," he said. "I just had to see for myself."

"Have we come at a bad time?" I said. "Should we leave?"

"No." Caesar and Elizabeth both shouted. They glared at their father.

Edward appeared to relent. "No, please. Stay," he said. "However, I do need to talk to both of you – alone." He flashed a challenging glance at both Caesar and Elizabeth as though daring them to object.

Caesar just shrugged. "It won't change anything, Father," he said, calmly.

Elizabeth turned her back on her father in obvious fury.

I wondered what was happening to make our presence such a conflict. Although I felt we should leave, I also felt that if we didn't resolve this, we could cause profound disagreement in the Rowan household. It was better to get it out in the open, rather than let it fester.

"I, for one, will be happy to talk to your father – alone," I said, and looked him in the eyes.

Alex moved to be by my side. "Where my brother goes, I go," she said.

"Very well," Edward said. "We can talk in my study."

"Just watch your damned heart rate," Elizabeth said, looking almost in tears with anger.

"This way please," Edward said. He had a powered wheelchair, which he used to navigate through the doorway at the back of the living room. We followed him and entered a spacious den, the walls lined with books. There was a fireplace and a heavy wooden desk. A comfortable leather couch stood before the fireplace. He asked me to close the door and indicated we should seat ourselves at the couch. Edward wheeled the chair next to the fireplace so that it faced us. We sat on the couch.

"Would you like a drink?" he asked.

"No, thank you," I replied, politely.

"What's this all about?" Alex said, her lips compressed into a grim line.

He evaded the question. "If you don't mind I'll pour a drink. Beth forbids it, but I'm too set in my ways to stop now. I'm dying, you know."

"Not so that I can discern it," I replied.

"It's my heart. Not repairable. No transplant available. I don't have long, maybe a year, but I must protect my children. You see, I knew your father. We spoke often. I know what he was attempting. I know all about you – what you are. That is why I won't let you ruin Caesar and Elizabeth's lives."

I was speechless. The answer as to why the Rowans address was in Dad's list became clear. It wasn't Caesar or Elizabeth, it was their father. But why did he think we would ruin their lives? I was dumbfounded.

Edward shifted in his wheelchair and leaned forward. "I know all about the Shadows. I know what kind of monsters they are. I saw and experienced the misery they created throughout the world. I will not let you be the cause of that same kind of suffering for my children."

I was numb. How could he think that we would hurt either of them? Alex was silent, an anguished look on her face. Tears brimmed in her eyes. I had not expected this. All my doubts and fears began to surface. I didn't know how to respond.

Edward's face became red. "I'll not have any filthy Shadows bewitching Elizabeth or Caesar."

"We're not Shadows," I shouted, exasperated. "We're victims." I added, more subdued. "We didn't even know about them until two weeks ago."

"Please, Mister Rowan. Please. I'm not a Shadow," Alex pleaded. "I love Caesar. I know he loves me. I'd never do anything to hurt him."

"Oh really? Then, why do you wear those vile lockets around your necks?" He nodded. "Oh yes, Elizabeth told me about them. Why is it that you can see Shadows, when no other normal human can?"

I didn't know how to answer him. He had hit on a half-truth. We were half Shadows, but I certainly couldn't feel any different from what, I imagined, anyone else felt. I clutched at the medallion that lay heavily around my neck.

"I think you're letting your hatred of the Shadows spill onto us," Alex said. "We're not Shadows. In fact, we are being hounded by those people."

"All the more reason to prevent you both from associating with us," he said.

I had no rejoinder for him. He had articulated the fears that had been plaguing me since I learned of the danger. Did we want Caesar and Elizabeth involved in that? Wasn't it better to separate ourselves from them? I didn't know what to believe, but I knew that the thought of leaving Elizabeth caused practically unbearable mental anguish.

"Mister Rowan, we're not Shadows," I said. "However, you're right. The more we associate with your family, the more danger you're in. The Shadows desperately want what our father discovered, and some group of them wants us – as virtual slaves. I can understand why you would want to save your family from that kind of danger. We don't want them in danger either. Alex and I have discussed what we could do to prevent harm to Caesar and Elizabeth, and we decided that to protect them, we must fight the Shadows with every weapon we possess. Our lives, mine and Alex's, depend upon it. As much as it hurts to think about it, you may be right, but it may also be too late. The odds are that the Shadows know about our relationships with Elizabeth and Caesar, and there's nothing that can change that."

"Oh, really?" he said. "Suppose we test that."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I know the kind of mind tricks that your people can use to persuade normal humans, Mister Fox. Suppose we test your supposed love for my children without those tricks?"

"What do you mean, mind tricks? We haven't –"

"Those abominable medals you wear around your necks. They're Shadow mind tricks, designed to coerce the people you associate with."

"Coerce people?" Alex replied angrily. "What are you talking about? Our father gave these medallions to us to protect us, not to screw around with other people's minds."

"Are you so sure?" Edward asked. "Do you know what those medallions do?"

"No," I said a little uncertainly. "I don't, but I'm sure that they are not meant to harm anyone. My father wouldn't do that."

"Suppose we test that, Mister Fox. Suppose we leave the objects here in my study, and you find out how much harm they can cause. See if my children feel the same way about you with the medals gone."

His words unsettled me. Could he be right? Was it possible that the medallions were the reason for the love that I felt for Elizabeth, and she in turn for me? The thought was agonizing. Dad had called them a fetish, an object of erotic fixation. Could all of my yearnings for a life with her be a lie?

I thought about how strange the whole episode had been, a chance meeting in the forest; a nearly instant attraction. I dreaded finding that the whole thing had been false. I didn't know if my soul could survive it.

"I know how Caesar feels about me, and I know how I feel about him. You're not going to spoil that, no matter how hard you try." She rose from the couch and lifted the medallion and its chain from her neck. She removed it and tossed it on the ornate desk. "You're on," Alex said with anger.

No matter how this worked out, I knew I had to know the truth; so I unclasped my necklace and laid it next to Alex's.

Alex glared at him. "So much for meeting the damn parents," she said. She stalked out of the study. I followed her, a little in awe of her fury.

We returned to the living room. Caesar and Elizabeth were sitting in two of the easy chairs. Caesar rose to his feet when we entered. He had a worried look. Elizabeth bit her lip. She looked angry. From their expressions, I didn't know what to think. Either they were furious because we had duped them, or they were upset because we had been interrogated by their father. I waited anxiously.

Alex walked up to Caesar and stared intently into his eyes. She waited for something to happen; as though she could will it with her gaze. After a moment, I saw her shoulders slump and she turned as if to walk away.

Caesar reached out and grabbed her arms. He turned her around and looked her. Her head was slumped, staring down at his chest. He put a hand under her chin and tilted her head up to look in her eyes. Her eyes glistened with tears. He folded her in his arms and laid her head against his chest. He glared over her head at his father. "What did you say to her? We discussed this before we invited them. You agreed."

As much as I hated being in the middle of a family argument, I felt that this was one that we must win. Edward remained silent, so I spoke. "Your father thinks that we have somehow entrapped you two, that we have forced you, against your will, into a relationship with us. To be honest, it frightened both of us, because we both are in love with you, and neither Alex, nor I would want that to be forced. You have to admit, that the circumstances of our chance encounter in the woods were unusual. A lot of unusual things have been happening to us recently."

Elizabeth had been quiet during my speech, glaring at her father, but when I finished, she turned and focused her attention on me, her eyes boring into my soul.

"Define unusual," she said.

"Yes, Mister Fox, tell my daughter the truth." Edward said.

"The truth –" I looked at Alex for help. She only turned her head and buried her face in Caesar's chest. I turned to look at Elizabeth. "Honestly, I don't know what the truth is. I can only tell you what has happened to us and the things we've been told. I think we all need to sit down."

Caesar and Alex took one end of the sofa, huddled together, and I took the other. Elizabeth flopped down in the easy chair next to the sofa, huddled, and pulled inside herself with her arms crossed. She looked angry. It was like glass in my throat, I felt hopeless, as I began to relate the events of the past two weeks.

When I finished, the room was silent, but the atmosphere was thick with emotions. Elizabeth was staring at the ceiling. Edward looked smugly triumphant, Caesar looked like a protective bear, holding his mate, and Alex looked like a lost kitten, safe in the arms of its owner. I felt like my life had just ended, that I should just dig my grave, and hop into it.

Elizabeth finally stirred. "So you think that these invisible 'Shadows' killed your mother and father, and also killed your lawyer, Silas. You also think that they are trying to abduct you, and that we are in danger because we have associated ourselves with you."

I nodded. "Close enough."

Her lips stretched thin on her face. "You know, I have been listening to my father and his delusional crap for some time. To discover that you share his delusions makes me very sad and angry. I've tolerated his ranting because his medical condition can create dementia, but you, you are not ill, you are in prime health, at least physical health, and here you are, spouting the same irrational bullshit."

I didn't know what to say, so I kept my mouth shut.

She started to cry. "If I didn't love you and want you so terribly, it wouldn't matter, it wouldn't hurt. However, for better or worse, I'm in love with you, so much that it hurts to be without you. I suppose I can cope with this, but it will take some time."

The only words that she spoke that registered on my mind were 'I'm in love with you'. The rest was meaningless noise. I rose and walked over to the easy chair. I fell to my knees and gripped both of her arms. I looked up into her eyes, and said "You have my life. I give it to you freely, and without reservation."

Tears welled up in her eyes. She reached out her hands, cupped my head, and clasped it to her bosom.

The whole room froze.

It was Edward who finally broke the silence. "As much as I hate to break this tender moment, you still have not addressed the major issue. How do you plan to protect my children, Mister Fox?"

"Protect us from what, father?" Caesar said.

"Haven't you been listening?" he said. "Regardless of how you view my mental stability. The fact remains, as Mister Fox can affirm, that the Shadows are real, and you two have just become prime targets."

Elizabeth released me and stood up, much to my disappointment. "I don't think I want to hear any more," she said, and stalked through the front door.

I rose and followed her.

I found her staring out at the woods, her arms hugged her chest. I walked over to her and stood behind her, gazing at the same view. Finally, I spoke.

"You know, what you said in there meant a lot to me. I can do anything if I know you love me. I would do anything for you. If you asked, I would gouge my eyes out and deafen my ears, to block all my senses, so that I could not see nor hear the world as I sense it. You only have to ask. If it would remove my delusions so that you and I could be happy together, I would consider it a fair trade." I turned her to face me. I looked in her eyes.

"I know you, Beth. You're a person who believes in a rational world. Until a short while ago, I believed as you. Maybe the universe is a lot stranger than we understand. Maybe this is a dream. Maybe I'll wake soon, to reenter the rational world. I hope not, because if it is a dream, then that means you are as well. I could not wake to that loss. I could not bear it. I would rather die in a delusion than awaken to a world of rationality. So long as I am in this dream, I live to cherish and protect you."

She finally smiled. "You know, you are a silver-tongued devil. You could give Shakespeare competition. She laughed, and then shrugged. "But I guess I'm stuck with you." She wrapped her arms around me and hugged me. I returned the favor.

We clung together, standing on the porch for a long time. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement. I broke the embrace to focus on the area in which I saw the motion. Close to the edge of the woods, I spied a person who seemed to be watching the house.

"What's the matter?" Elizabeth said.

"There, at the edge of the woods, do you see him?"

"Well, yes. He must be a hiker. We have a number of people who like to walk through these woods."

"Why does he seem to be staring at your house?"

"I don't know, don't get paranoid, Paris. Not everyone is out to get you. What do you think? He's one of your imaginary people?"

"No, I'm just not comfortable with him staring at us. Let's go back inside."

She reluctantly agreed, and we moved back into the house.

Back in the living room, Alex was still nestled in Caesar' arms, and Edward was petulantly glowering at the two of them as they whispered what I imagined being terms of endearment. I took one last look through the front window to see if the man at the edge of the woods had moved from his spot. He seemed to have disappeared. The sight didn't make me easier.

I turned to the elder Rowan and said, harshly "Well sir, are there any more hurdles that you want us all to leap? Any more emotional trauma you want us to endure?"

He jerked his head in my direction and seeing my face, had the grace to morph his features into what might be interpreted as an apologetic look.

"I only seek to protect my children from a terror that I've directly experienced. There's no denying that you two are half Shadow, or do you intend to deny it? The Shadows have been responsible for more of the misery inflicted upon this planet than any other group or nation. How am I to know what your motivations are in relation to my children? Shadows are deceitful, deceptive, and totally immoral, at least in terms of what I consider morality. You could be harboring a hidden agenda, using my loved ones as pawns in some game. Do you yourselves know if you, in turn, are not pawns to an even greater game? I think not. Until you convince me that you are not manipulators, dupes, or fools, I remain opposed to any union between you and my children."

"Fair enough, what will it take to convince you?" I asked.

"I don't know. I only know that when I see it, my mind will be settled, one way or the other," he replied.

Elizabeth abruptly broke into our dialogue. "This is ridiculous. It's surreal. The two of you are arguing about imaginary people, as though they truly existed. You can't expect us to join in your delusion, can you? Why don't you two get over your preposterous display of testosterone, and rejoin the real world?"

"Do you see the source of my frustration and dilemma young man?" Edward said.

I grinned. "Certainly sir, its one of the things I love about her."

"Very well I suggest a truce. I'm hungry anyway. We'll talk about fewer adversarial subjects while we eat. By the way, you may resume wearing your medallions."

"Thank you. When we leave will be soon enough."

The lunch break was somewhat reluctantly agreed to by Beth, Alex, and Caesar. To everyone's evident relief, Edward was civil; relating amusing anecdotes about diplomatic snafus that had occurred involving famous people, which he'd witnessed during his diplomatic career. We relaxed, and enjoyed the excellent lunch that had been prepared by Caesar.

After lunch, Alex and I prepared to leave. The rain clouds had ceased weeping but remained heavy. They looked ready to unleash their torrents upon the countryside again, so I decided to brave the potential downpour to retrieve our umbrellas from the cars. As I left the house, I looked at the spot near the woods where I'd seen the intruder.

He was still there but he'd been joined by two other men. I pretended to ignore them and opened the door of my car. Reaching into the interior, I grabbed the umbrella and cracked it open. I took the Glock and two cans of Mace from the glove box, slipped the items into the umbrella and closed the door. Running back into the house, I ignored the intruders and closed and locked the front door.

"We've got unwelcome visitors," I announced to the assembled group.

"What visitors?" Caesar said.

"I believe they may be the persons that your father was worried about," I answered, and glanced toward Edward. He returned my look with a wince.

"Where?"

"Near the woods, there are three of them. There may be others, but I didn't see them."

Caesar moved to the front side window and gazed through the curtain at the edge of the woods.

"I only see one man," he said.

Elizabeth joined him and looked at the same scene. "He's right. It's the same man who was looking at the house when we went back in."

"Alex, I need you to look," I said.

She moved to the window, and gazed out at the woods. "Paris is right," she said, "but there's not three, there's four."

Caesar looked at her with an expression of puzzlement. "Alex, there's only one man out there."

She looked him in the eyes and said. "No Caesar, there are four people out there." She turned to me and said, "Shadows?"

I nodded. "Yes, if they can't see them, then they must be Shadows."

Elizabeth and Caesar looked at us as though we'd lost our senses.

"What are we going to do?" Alex said.

"The only reason they'd surround this house is to take the Rowans hostage to force our compliance. As for me, if Beth was threatened, I would do anything they wanted, even if it meant I never saw her again. It seems that our worst nightmares are about to come true. These three have no defense against them. We're the only ones here who can see them. It'd be easy to overpower them and take them hostage."

"The farm house? " Alex said.

"Yes, it's the only place that's shielded against them."

"What are you two talking about?" Elizabeth said heatedly.

"We're talking about taking you, all of you, back to our farm, where you will be safe."

"Why is your farm safer than our house?" she said.

"My father had secrets to guard. He learned how to design safeguards into the building. I don't pretend to understand how they work, but the Shadows cannot come near it. I could show you the plans, but they're back at the farm. You'll have to take my word for it."

Elizabeth looked frustrated and a little angry. "Paris, this is crazy."

"I know what it sounds like, but we're desperate. You don't know how unscrupulous they are and what they're capable of doing. If they take you, it will result in our deaths or a life of essential slavery. We won't have any choice. We'll either have to fight them or surrender. Either way, we'll be gone. If you come with us to the farmhouse, we can try to find a way to defeat them without putting you in jeopardy."

Caesar turned from the window. "I see two men now. The first one was joined by a second."

I moved to his vantage point, looked and turned to look at Caesar. "It just got more complicated. There are four at that position, and the other two have moved in back of our cars. That makes six."

"Where? I still see only two."

"Trust me, they're there."

Edward finally stirred. "I think, just to be prudent, we should take Mister Fox's advice, at least until he is able to produce his evidence."

"Father, you can't be serious." Elizabeth said. "I don't know what is happening to these two, it may be hallucinations, but you're in no shape to leave this house, much less in some crazy headlong rush."

"Your father must come with us," I said. "He is just as much of a valuable hostage as you are."

"He's right," Alex said, "If anything, Edward is more vulnerable. He's totally unable to defend himself. Just the threat of withholding his medication is enough to cause us all to agree to anything they want."

"I think we should do what Alexandra and Paris want," Caesar said. "If what they say is true, we will have been saved from a dangerous situation. If they cannot convince us, then we can decide from there. As for me, I trust Alexandra completely. If she says we must flee, then I'm going with her."

"What can I do?" Elizabeth said in angry resignation. "My whole family is caught up in this madness. I won't leave Father alone. I'm the only one who could possibly save his life."
Chapter 17

### Desperate Flight to Ecstasy

"You could trust me," I said.

"Oh, Paris," she said, "I feel so hopeless."

"It seems we're destined to run," Edward said. "Do you have a plan?"

"No," I said, and thought for a moment. "Maybe if we leave as though we were going on an outing, they'll wait until we're not here and make their move then. That would delay any attack until they feel you're alone. Do you have any weapons in the house?"

"Paris," Elizabeth said. "We're not heading outside, guns blazing, I won't allow it."

I looked at Caesar. "I wasn't thinking of lethal force." I didn't mention the Glock hidden in the umbrella. "But we need a credible deterrent. Something to fend them off if they do attack."

"I have an old antique Irish shillelagh, would that suffice?" Edward said.

"Father, you can't be serious," Elizabeth said. "It's a family heirloom."

"I imagine it's cracked a few heads in its time," he said calmly. "What better purpose will it serve? I'll carry it like a walking stick. Is that sufficient subterfuge for you, Paris?"

I grinned and said, "Perfect. Couldn't be better."

"I'll fetch it, and your hidden sword walking stick." Caesar said, grinning. I could tell he was enjoying this.

"Please bring our necklaces," I said.

"Has everyone lost their minds?" Elizabeth complained. "I haven't agreed to join in this madness."

The whole group paused, looking at her. I finally broke the silence. "I suppose, Beth that it settles on the fact of whether or not you trust me. Do you? Do you believe I am mad? Or do you believe that I sense a true danger, and I am acting out of love? Love for you and love for your family. You must decide, darling. All of our lives hang in the balance."

"Oh Paris, that's so unfair."

"Nevertheless, sweetheart, it's true."

Elizabeth crumpled on the couch in tears. After a while, she found her composure. "This is going to cost me, Paris, and you. If you betray me..."

"I would never betray you, and I will pay the cost, regardless."

"Let's go," she said.

We prepared ourselves. Caesar and I conferred about the arrangements and we left through the front door.

Edward rolled in his powered wheel chair, which was designed to be transported. His medications and some oxygen canisters were carried by Elizabeth in a picnic basket. Alex guided Edward's wheelchair with Elizabeth at his side, flanked by Caesar and me. We chatted about going to the lake for the day.

The whole ensemble moved toward the cars. I studied the men hidden in the woods and by the cars. Alex had one of the cans of Mace hidden, and I held the other with the umbrella and the Glock hidden inside. Caesar carried the sword cane.

We walked, casually pushing the wheel chair toward the driveway.

Suddenly, Alex yelled "Paris!" I glanced at Alex, and saw the two normal men, in company with the two Shadows, rushing down from the woods.

I looked to the cars and the two other Shadows emerged from behind them. I prayed that the combination of Alex's mace and Caesar' sword cane could hold the other four off and concentrated upon the two adversaries who were about to attack my flank.

Both of my opponents were armed with side-handle batons like the ones the police used. They were devastating weapons if used properly.

I dropped the umbrella to free my hands and studied the two men. I decided that one of them had no training in the use of the baton, so I flipped the safety off the mace can, and directed its spray upon the proficient one.

Unfortunately, his partner took that moment to step in front of the spray, taking its full force on his face and chest. He fell to the driveway pavement, and dropped his baton; screaming and clutching at his eyes. His partner had a moment to recover, and he delivered a forehand swipe with the baton at the hand that held the Mace, knocking out of my grip. It clattered down the driveway.

My hand went numb. I knew I would feel the aftermath later.

The Shadow had apparently caught a whiff of the mace, because his eyes were streaming tears, but he circled, keeping me from the baton his partner dropped.

I feigned a forward rush and then leaned back; as his baton sliced harmlessly past my chest. Then I did rush forward, but apparently, he was savvy enough to bring the baton back in a vicious backhand that crashed against my lower ribs. The blow nearly drove the wind from me.

Desperate, I was about to dive for the Glock, when Edward yelled, "Paris!"

He tossed the shillelagh toward me, and I caught it. The Shadow had paused to wipe the tears from his eyes, but seeing me with the club, he renewed his attack.

He delivered an overhand blow that I caught on the dense ironwood shillelagh, and then I swung the knob end into his face. He staggered back, blood streaming from his nose, and I followed through by bringing the club down on the side of his head. The blow stunned him, and he fell to the pavement. I ran to retrieve the Mace and returned to give him a good dose. He no longer exhibited interest in anything but his misery.

I looked toward Caesar and Alex. She clutched at her arm, rubbing it. Two of the four men were writhing on the grass, obviously lost in the pain of the Mace attack.

Caesar stood over one of them, daring him to get up. The last two men ran toward the woods. I knew they would be warning their backup, and the opposition would bring more muscle. I glanced around the house and made a fast decision.

"Quick," I shouted, "Into the truck."

Caesar and Alex hurried over to her truck.

I gestured to Edward.

"Help me get Edward in the back." I dropped the tailgate of the truck. Caesar helped lift Edward, wheelchair and all into the bed.

"Get in the bed, Beth, lock the brakes, and hold the chair."

She leaped onto the tailgate, clutching the basket full of medical equipment. Alex was already behind the wheel of the truck and had it started.

Caesar jumped into the passenger seat and slammed the door. I tossed the umbrella into the bed, closed and vaulted the tailgate, then yelled "Move!"

The truck tires made clouds of smoke on the driveway as Alex floored the accelerator.

The truck screamed out of the driveway, and shot into the street. Elizabeth clung to Edward's wheelchair in desperation while the truck fishtailed on the blacktop. I joined Elizabeth in trying to keep the wheelchair from moving, as the truck sped down the street.

Alex regained control, and the truck straightened out. Soon, we were at the end of the side street, and I shouted, "Hold on!"

The truck flashed by the stop sign at the end of the street and fishtailed onto the highway, tires smoking and screaming. She tucked it neatly between two oncoming vehicles and roared down the highway.

"She's going the wrong way!" Elizabeth yelled, over the sound of the truck. "What's she doing?"

I had noticed the direction that the truck was facing and was about to yell to Alex, when I noticed a black car some distance down the road. "Relax," I shouted over the sound of the truck, "I think I know what she's doing."

We sped down the highway toward the lake.

The black car soon resolved itself into a black Mercedes. There were two male occupants in the front seat. The big car inched closer and closer to the back bumper of the truck.

I knew what was about to happen, so I yelled to Elizabeth, "Hold on tightly to the wheelchair and the truck. Do not let go."

Alex apparently found the opportunity she'd been waiting for, and locked the brakes on the truck.

The Mercedes must have had anti-lock brakes, but the car was too close and the driver had to swerve the car to avoid hitting our rear bumper. Alex spun the steering wheel of the truck, causing it to skid, turn and slide to the other side of the highway. She wound up facing the opposite way, on the highway, and the trucks tires screamed again.

At the right moment, she again floored the accelerator.

The Mercedes receded behind us, the driver fighting for control, as we headed for the farm.

"Alex's scary," Elizabeth yelled over the sound of the wind and the truck's engine.

"Tell me about it. She's been this way ever since she dated a racing instructor who worked for the Kentucky State Police. He taught her offensive driving. He said it was to allow her to escape from the bad guys. She won't drive a car with anti-lock brakes."

"It sure works," she shouted back. "Maybe she'll teach me."

"Over my dead body. You already drive too fast."

She grinned at me and held on.

Alex raced down the highway, passing slower cars as we gained speed. Several drivers honked their horns as the truck narrowly missed car after car. She flashed through stop sign after stop sign, only slowing to allow a gap to appear in the traffic.

I prayed that a cop wasn't hidden along the road as the truck roared toward the farm.

I glanced up at the wheelchair to see how Edward was taking it. He was grinning like a maniac, holding tight to the arms of the chair

Soon, in the distance, I spied a dark car gaining on us. I pounded on the sliding window at the back of the cab, and when it opened, I yelled over the wind. "We've got company."

"I know," Alex yelled back. "Do what you can. We're almost there."

The black car crept closer as we sped along, another black Mercedes.

"What is it with these people?" I shouted "Did they get a fleet discount on Mercedes?"

"What Mercedes?" Elizabeth yelled. "That's an old beat up farm truck."

"Did you ever remember seeing an old farm truck go that fast?" I replied.

"Alex," I yelled. "They're Shadows!"

"Take care of it. I've got other problems. They wanna play chicken."

I looked ahead, and saw another car heading our way on the wrong side of the road.

"Oh shit. Things are going to get hairy!"

"What's she going to do?" Elizabeth said.

"Trust me, you don't want to know. Just hang on and pray."

I concentrated on the car following us. He dropped back, apparently to give himself some maneuvering room, confident that his partner ahead could stop the truck or at least slow it down and he could box us in. We were about a quarter mile from the farm.

The car in front rushed toward us and the tension grew, as it sped closer and closer.

"Come on, Alex," I muttered. I gritted my teeth, waiting for the impact.

Apparently, Alex saw her chance, and the truck cab swerved to the right, while the truck bed swung to the left, the tires screaming and smoking again. The driver saw the bed looming in front of him, and stood on the brakes.

As he came close, the truck skidded the opposite way and neatly sidestepped the oncoming car.

Alex changed direction again, and her truck slid on the grass across our front lawn. It skidded on the rain slick grass broadside toward the farmhouse.

Several people, who'd been standing in a cordon in front of the house, scattered as the truck plowed through the line.

It stopped with its side resting against the front porch.

As soon as the truck came to a halt, I yelled. "Quick, get Edward into the house." I pulled the Glock from the umbrella and leaped out of the truck facing the people who slowly recovered from the truck's dramatic entrance.

From the side of my vision, I could see Elizabeth look at me in surprise. I didn't acknowledge her; I just took an aiming stance and leveled the gun at the disorganized group.

I yelled at the people who were just starting to get organized. "Any Normal who tries to cross the line gets shot! I won't kill you, but I can guarantee you'll never walk again."

I turned to look back at my companions, who were frozen in shock.

"Get. Edward. Into the house!"

One of the men who seemed about to rush the house glanced at one of the others who I surmised might be a Shadow, as though waiting for permission.

The Shadow looked at me without speaking and turned to look at his men. He shook his head in negation. They stepped back.

I checked to see if Edward was still in the truck. Alex and Caesar were in the final stages of lifting Edward onto the porch.

Elizabeth stared at me, wide eyed, with a worried frown. She hadn't moved. My emotions turned to feelings of regret. My mind cringed. I knew I would face some painful questions from her, assuming she would talk to me at all; but I had overriding concerns at the moment. I would die before I let these bastards any nearer to my house and my loved ones.

"Hurry, before they change their minds!" I yelled.

Alex and Caesar lifted Edward to the porch, Alex opened the door and Caesar wheeled him through it. Elizabeth, still paralyzed, stared at me.

I backed up to the porch, caught her around the waist, and dragged her through the door.

I closed and locked the door and released my hold on Elizabeth. She stumbled to the couch and collapsed on it.

I turned to stare out the door window. "Alex, go down to the basement and load the hand guns. Give the S&W to Caesar. He'll know how to handle it. You take your Ruger and the rifle. Bring them back to the living room. Don't forget to set the safeties."

Alex nodded, glanced at Caesar, and led him down to the basement. I looked at Elizabeth. She stared down at the floor and refused to make eye contact.

I turned and continued to watch out of the front door.

"Sooner or later, we'll have to talk about this." I said with my back turned to her. "I would prefer sooner. I know I've upset you, and I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry, not about what just happened, but because it may have made you think less of me. I can't help that. I would rather that you hate me than to see you hurt."

I saw her reflection in the window. She didn't say anything, just leaned back in the couch and closed her eyes.

Edward had watched the whole time. Finally, he said, "What's our next move, Paris?"

"The Shadows can't get closer to the house. The Normals, however, are another matter. I expect them to rush us as soon as they have enough backup. How are you at using a weapon from that wheelchair?"

"I'm a good shot, and I know weapons."

"Good. You're the backup. You get the shotgun. I don't expect them to use guns, but they may get desperate enough to do anything. I don't want to start a war, and neither do they. Neither of us wants the attention of the police."

"I didn't pay much attention to your words this morning," Edward said. "But I can see that something unusual is happening here. I admit to a lot of confusion, however, as to precisely what it is."

I turned my attention from the people outside the house to look at him. "I can understand your confusion sir, and I intend to explain this and show you all of the evidence we've accumulated. There're a lot of things that you don't know, things that I have been reluctant to reveal because I worried that if you did know, it would paint a target on you. Now, I'm afraid it's too late. I need your cooperation in order to keep us all safe, so the more you know, the easier this is going to be. Right now, however, we need to dissuade our friends outside from attempting something foolish."

"How do you intend to convince them?"

I grinned, "By the display of overwhelming force."

Elizabeth remained silent during the conversation.

She abruptly rose and said. "I need to use the bathroom. Please tell me where it is."

"Upstairs and to the left in the middle of the hallway. – Beth, we need to talk."

"Not now, Paris, I need to think...maybe later, when I've calmed down."

I felt sick inside. "Okay sweetheart, when you're ready." I was in trouble, big trouble.

She brushed past without looking at me.

In a few minutes, Alex and Caesar emerged from the basement, carrying the firearms.

"I forgot to say, but did you bring the holsters for the pistols?"

"We're ahead of you there," Alex said. "What do you have in mind?"

After Elizabeth returned, I outlined my plan. Caesar suggested some improvements, and everyone agreed on the results. We took up the firearms and filed out to the porch.

Edward carried the shotgun, while Alex held the Ruger pointing down at her side. Caesar wore the S&W in a holster strapped to his waist, and carried the AR–15 at port arms. I had the Glock strapped to my waist.

Each of the weapons were locked and loaded. Caesar and I stepped off the porch and walked toward the Shadows.

As we moved forward, I whispered to Caesar. "I can't tell which of them are Shadows and which of them aren't. Try to look at the Normals, the one's you can see, and that will help me identify them."

"This is strange, Paris, But – Okay I'll try."

Caesar swiveled his head as we walked forward, pausing briefly to indicate that he had spied someone.

From his motion, I spotted two of the Normals. They stood next to the Shadow who had nodded his head earlier.

I angled toward the one I thought was the leader, and stopped in front of him, about five paces away. Caesar stopped the same distance behind me.

"I have a proposal." I waited for a reply. The man just stood there, saying nothing. "What's the matter can't you speak? Are you dumb as well as deaf?" This statement finally caused a brief glare.

Abruptly, one of the two Normals spoke. "I speak for the Master."

"Very well" I said, still staring down the Shadow. "What's your name?"

The Normal was the one who responded. "It is unseemly for a slave to question the Master. It is not for you to know. You must only obey."

I moved closer to the one called the 'Master'. "There's no slave here, and there's no Master. I have a message to deliver and a proposal. The message is this. Anyone, Shadow or normal, who attempts to enter our house will be met by deadly force. If any member of my family is injured or killed, or harmed in any way, I will track down your House, and kill each of you, like the dogs you are, until not a member of your putrid tribe is left."

The Shadow's face contorted and I could actually feel his rage. He directed the force of it at me, but the medallion I wore distracted his focus.

The medallion absorbed and dissipated it, but even with its power, I felt my will start to crumble and pain pierced me.

I had the impression that had he been fully able to press through its protections, he could have killed me.

I stepped back, shrugged it off, and spoke. "My proposal is this. If we start shooting, it will bring the police to investigate. I don't think that you want that kind of attention. Tensions are high, and mistakes can happen. I suggest a stand-down. You leave the house in peace and we'll remain in it, neither side to encroach upon the other. Keep your Normals away from the house, at the same distance that the rest of the Shadows are standing." I waited.

The Shadow looked both frightened and furious that his attempt in controlling me had not worked.

His Normal spokesman stirred. "The Master does not bargain with slaves. The slave has something the Master wants. Give the Master what he wants, and he will leave."

"No. If you want what I have, you'll have to bargain with Tony. If you try to take it, I'll broadcast it throughout the Internet. I'll give it to the Government. I'll send it to people throughout the world. I repeat my proposal. Leave us alone; we'll stay in the house and not attack your people."

"The Master does not bargain with slaves."

I abruptly turned my back on him, beckoned to Caesar, and we began to walk back to the house, not looking back.

About half way to the porch, Caesar spoke. "What the hell was that, Paris? What just happened? That guy acted like a bloody robot."

"Welcome to the world of Shadows, Caesar. It just gets weirder."

Caesar grabbed my arm. "Did you feel that rush? Just after you said something about killing them? I swear, it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention."

I stopped walking and turned to look at him. "You felt that?"

"Too bloody right I did. Why?"

I looked back at the people standing on the lawn. "It's just one more piece of the puzzle. It's information he may not have wanted us to know. It's a good thing he focused on me or you might not have survived it."

Caesar looked puzzled. "Who? By the way, why were you looking to the side of that ass? Why didn't you talk to him?"

"Oh, I sometimes forget that you can't see them. I was talking to the Shadow who's running this catastrophe."

He shook his head. "You know sometimes you and Alex almost have me believing in this 'Shadow' business."

"Believe it Caesar. It's real, and these people are damned dangerous. I'm going to sit down with everyone and explain as much as we know when we get in the house."

When everyone was back inside, and the door was closed and locked, I turned to Alex. "Sis, go with Caesar. Check the back door and the perimeter. He can point out the Normals, and you can identify the Shadows. Make sure the door is locked. Then come back to the living room, and we'll have a conference."

Elizabeth came into the living room and sat quietly on the couch. Edward leaned the shotgun on the wall next to the front door. He was looking at me attentively. I went over to the easy chair and sat down.

"Well, what happened?" Edward said.

I shrugged. "I gave them the message. Now, we'll see if they respond."

Edward wheeled his chair to face me. "Who were you talking to?"

"The Shadow," I replied. – Naturally, you couldn't see him."

Edward rolled his eyes toward the ceiling and laughed. "Naturally – What do they want?"

"I'll explain it all in a minute, but briefly they want two things. The first is whatever my father hid in this house; and second, they want us; Alex and me. They consider us property."

Edward snorted. "That's absurd. You're no one's property."

"Crazy or not, that's what they believe. It doesn't matter, if you're the potential property."

Elizabeth spoke up. "What does all this have to do with us?"

I looked at her. "They want you as hostages. They know we'll do anything, literally anything, including surrendering, to keep you from harm."

Elizabeth bit her lip and turned away.

"I knew there was a reason I didn't want you four together," Edward said.

I felt frustrated. "That's unfair, Edward. When we met Beth and Caesar, we didn't have any idea that it would come to this. We thought that we had befriended the most wonderful people we'd ever met. We thought we had met our life-mates. When we learned about the kind of trouble we were bringing to your family, as much as it would have hurt, I was ready to tell Beth and Caesar that we couldn't see them again."

Beth turned and glared at me.

I avoided her eyes. "Now it's too late. For better or worse, our futures are joined, and I'm going to do my damnedest to make sure that future is a good one."

At that moment, Alex and Caesar came back to the living room.

"Perimeter's secure," Caesar said. "Alex says there are two Shadows back there. I only saw one person, a male. He's keeping his distance."

"Good. Alex, go get Dad's letter, and some of the printouts we've made, so we can show the three of them what we've found.

While she was busy, I explained what we'd learned about the Shadows, and why they were hounding us.

Alex returned, and she passed Dad's letter and the list around the group. "Edward, you'll notice that your address is on that list."

Edward placed his elbow on his wheelchair's armrest and tilting his head, cupped his cheek in his hand. "Yes, as I said before, I knew your father. That is the main reason I didn't want you associating with Elizabeth and Caesar. I knew your father was a Shadow, and I didn't want a Shadow's offspring entrapping my children."

I stared him down. "Well you were wrong in two respects, Edward. First, Dad was not a Shadow. Second, our stepmother was."

He looked astonished. "Jenny? She couldn't have been. I mean, I could see her. She was one of the most loving and kind people I had ever met. Your father was the one who bent people to his will. I saw it. His abilities were Shadow tricks."

"Mother was one of the rare Shadows who could turn it on and off," I said. Not all of the Shadows are evil bastards. In that regard, they're like the rest of the human race some good, and some of them, very, very bad. We're up against the latter. Dad, on the other hand, was not a natural Shadow. He learned to use their abilities. His secret is what they want. He designed, and had built, the shield that guards this house. He learned how to construct the medallions that we wear."

Edward was silent for a while. "Then, why don't you just give it to them? If you bargain, maybe you can come to some sort of agreement."

"We think Dad was trying to do that when they killed him and our mother. However, the question is a nonstarter. Dad hid the secret very well. We've looked for it and we can't find it."

Caesar took that moment to rise from the couch and go to the front door. "Paris, it looks like you scared them off. They're gone."

I joined him at the door "Just the Normals," I said. "There are six more in the front, all Shadows."

Caesar looked at me skeptically.

I sighed. "Smart bastard. He knows that if the Normals leave, you'll see the perimeter as clear and you'll think about leaving the house."

Elizabeth rose and joined us at the door. "They're gone, Paris. You need to take us back to our house, and we'll call the police."

"No. Beth. Please, I'm begging you. Don't go out there. If you leave this house, they'll have you. If they take you, we'll lose you. We'll have to surrender. We'll never see you again. They might kill you because you know too much."

"Please darling if you love me, please do not go out of this house."

"Paris, you're scaring me. You need help, and I'm not a psychiatrist. Sweetheart, I think you are suffering from posttraumatic stress from your time in the service. Let me get some help for you."

"Do you think I'm delusional, Beth?" Alex said. "I haven't been in any war. What's my problem? Paris is right, if you leave this house, you'll doom us all."

We were frozen. I thought frantically. How could I convince Beth that the Shadows were real? I cast my mind over the events of the past few weeks, looking for someway to prevent disaster. I thought about what Tony said, what Gordon said, and about what we had learned about the Shadows.

I thought about Dad. How had he been able to see them? Sure, mother could turn it on and off, but how had Dad been able to see the others? Was there a way to show Elizabeth and Caesar that the Shadows were real? Then I remembered what Gordon had said, about the reason he had been sacked from his government job.

"Caesar, get the rifle and turn on sight." He took the AR–15 from the place he'd left it, switched on thermal sight and stood waiting, Alex by his side. "Okay, take the rifle, go outside, look through the sight, and scan the front yard."

He looked puzzled, but opened the front door and he and Alex went out to the front porch.

I waited. The tension I felt increased, until I thought I could no longer bear it. The waiting was agonizing.

After a while, the two of them came back through the front door. "I can't believe it," Caesar said.

"Believe what?" Elizabeth said.

"You'll have to see it for yourself, Beth," Caesar replied. "Take the rifle. It's set on safe so it won't shoot, and look through the sight."

She gingerly took the rifle and I joined her on the front porch. I showed her how to set the rifle against her shoulder, and scan with it while looking through the sight. She trained the weapon, scanning the front yard, and abruptly stopped. She lowered the rifle, looked at the place it had been aimed, and then resumed her gaze through the sight. She did this several times. I could see the shadows were getting nervous. "They don't like what you're doing with the gun."

She didn't say anything. She just lowered the weapon and walked back inside.

Elizabeth gave the rifle to Caesar. I locked the door, and she went over to the couch and sat. I joined her. She was staring fixedly at the rug.

I took her in my arms and she melted against me. My body felt drained. I started crying, great racking sobs that shook my body. Elizabeth joined me.

Soon we were two quivering lumps of human flesh, just sobbing, holding on to each other and dissolving into a bundle of emotions. I crushed her tightly. I kept saying between the sobs, "I love you, love you. Please don't leave me."

After a while, we calmed and just held each other. I didn't want to let her go. Caesar's voice interrupted. "People, I hate to break this up, but we have to decide what we're going to do next."

I nodded, but didn't let Elizabeth go. "Give us a few minutes."

Caesar and Alex left the living room.

I saw Edward holding the rifle and periodically using it to look out the window. "How about you?" I asked.

"I'm keeping the gun," he said. "This is the first time I've ever been able to have these bloody bastards in my sights, and I want to savor the moment."

"Let's go to the study, Beth, and we'll talk."

We rose from the couch and half stumbled to the study, still holding each other. I guided her to one of the chairs, and drew up another to sit beside her.

Elizabeth spoke first. "Paris, out there," she gestured towards the front of the house, "before we went into the house – I mean – I thought I knew you. When you had the gun pointed at those men. I had the feeling that I was looking at a cold killer. Someone I didn't know. Someone who wasn't human anymore. It scared me."

"Sweetheart, the simple answer is that I wasn't human. I was Lieutenant Paris Fox. An officer who had led his command into a dangerous situation and must act quickly to save them. Before I went into the Army, I would never have behaved like that. We were trained to suppress fear and, if necessary, to abandon our humanity in order to safeguard ourselves and the people we commanded. For better or worse, that's a part of me now. Maybe if Iraq hadn't happened, things would have been different. Can you accept that?"

"It will take some time. Do you suppose Caesar has that inside him?"

"I would say that, yes, he does. I don't know for sure, but he couldn't have become a Seal, without learning to suppress his fear and his humanity. But, that doesn't mean he's not human. It means that in a life or death situation, he'll be a very dangerous man. But some fear is hard to control. When I thought you might walk out that door, I was terrified. Beth I can't lose you. I want to be with you the rest of my life. I will do anything to make that true, including kill for you."

She shuddered. "I never want it to come to that."

"I know. I trust you completely. Trust me. Trust that I have not lost my humanity. I behaved the way I did so that no one would act to make me hurt them."

She winced. "That doesn't make sense, Paris."

I grinned. "I know. It's just my convoluted mind at work."

At once, Elizabeth's mood changed. She grew alarmed. "Paris what about the hospital?"

"What about it? You can't –"

She stood from the chair a walked around the room rubbing her arms. "I have to go. Paris, I'm a doctor. My patients – people's lives depend on me."

"Beth, honey you can't leave this house. It's the only place that they can't get to you. You're powerless to defend yourself, and no one will believe that you're in danger from something that's invisible."

She stopped and looked down at me. "Paris, my doctor-self screams to deny what my eyes witnessed. It wants to ascribe this disaster to your delusions. I still have doubts."

"How can you doubt me when you've seen all this?"

Elizabeth bit her lip. "Damn it Paris, I'm a scientist. I live in what is, not what might be. You're trading on my love for you to force me to join in your fantasy. It's not fair. If you fail me, you could destroy something I want desperately to keep. It makes me sick, physically ill, to think I could lose it."

"I have no answers, sweetheart. All I can say is trust me, love me. I will not fail that trust."

We were silent for a while.

Elizabeth shook her head. "I suppose I can call in some favors and get someone to cover my patients. But, Paris, this can't go on indefinitely. We must find someway to resolve it."

"You're right. We all need to talk and come up with a plan. Anyhow, you can use the phone to call the hospital."

She rose from the chair, reached for the phone, and dialed the number. She frowned. "Paris, the phone isn't working."

"Damn. It's starting. They must have cut it off."

"Who? Who cut it off?"

"The Shadows, who else?"

"I still need to call. In the panic, I left my cell phone at the house. Do you have yours?"

"Yes, it's up in my bedroom. I'll get it in a minute. Let's go talk to the others."

We went into the kitchen. Alex and Caesar were sitting at the table talking and drinking coffee.

"Are you two all right?" Caesar asked.

"Good enough for now," Elizabeth replied. "They've cut off the phone."

"Uh oh," Alex said, "not good."

"Let's go to the living room, talk about this, and plan," I said.

"I'll bring the coffee," Alex said.

We went back to join Edward in the living room.

I started the conversation. "I hope that everyone understands by now that we are trapped in this house. Even Alex and I, who can see them without aid, would be outnumbered and overwhelmed if we left it. I am reluctant to use deadly force except as a last resort, because the repercussions would lead to the very result that we are trying to avoid."

"What do you mean by that, Paris?" Edward said. "Just kill them all and let God sort out the mess."

"Father!" Elizabeth said.

He turned to her. "Beth you haven't seen the result of their meddling. I on the other hand, have. These – creatures – are responsible for more suffering than you can believe. They should be exterminated."

Edward's obvious hatred of the Shadows jarred me. "It's not as simple as that, Edward. The Shadows are by no means a monolithic group. In fact, according to Tony, there are several competing factions that are just as eager to broach this house's defenses as the ones who attacked us. That is an advantage, because they would be unlikely to allow one group to have the advantage over the others. In addition, some of the groups are actively intervening on mankind's behalf. Of course, our information comes from a Shadow, and they lie freely as a matter of self preservation. Who knows what's true? I do know that Dad's secrets are the reason we're sitting here."

"That's one thing I'm not clear on, Paris. What, exactly, is your father's secret?" Caesar said.

"Dad was a normal human. Somehow he learned how to use some of the Shadow's powers, although from the evidence, I doubt he was able to see them."

"Why do you say that?" Alex said.

"From the thermal imaging scope on the rifle. Dad probably figured out that they couldn't hide their body heat. Remember, he had Gordon's knowledge to draw upon. I wondered why he'd bought the rifle, and the idea came to me. That's why I had Caesar use it to see them."

"Who's Gordon?" Elizabeth asked.

That led to a discussion of all of the people Alex and I'd met and some of the information we'd gleaned from them. From there, we went into the study, printed out some of the investigator's reports, and showed them plans for the house. Eventually everyone went back to the living room and sat back down. Everyone was quiet, apparently thinking about all they had learned.

Elizabeth broke the silence. "Paris, why don't you just give it to them? Use it to bargain our way out of this mess."

"No," Edward said. "It should be disseminated to as many people as possible. That way, we can rid the world of this pestilence at once and for all time."

I wondered why Edward hated the Shadows so vehemently. Certainly, I had no reason to love them, but his reaction bordered on the pathological. I decided to question him later when we could have some time alone.

"To answer your question Beth, Dad hid his research. He hid it so well, that we can't find it."

"Oh. – Well then, maybe our effort should be to find it. We can't bargain without it. Where do we start?" She waited expectantly.

"The computer." Alex answered immediately. "There's some information there, but we haven't been able to access it."

"I vote for searching the house," Caesar said.

"I think that's a good idea," I said. "How about we try Caesar's idea first? We have more people to join in looking, so we might have more success."

"I can't join you, so I may as well look at this computer you're talking about," Edward said.

I looked skeptically at him. "Are you sure? The computer has a powerful security system installed on it. If you make the wrong move, it will most likely erase the whole hard drive."

"Trust me. I have some small abilities in the matter of security systems. – Never mind where I picked them up – especially in the computer arena. If I feel it's too risky, I won't attempt it."

"Okay, if you're sure..."

"I'm sure," he said.

I definitely needed to add this item to my growing list of questions concerning Edward. "The basement is the logical place to start, but we need to divide our efforts. Alex, you and Caesar take the basement and living room, Beth and I will take the upper floors."

We separated into three groups. Beth and I ascended the stairs and we started in the attic. It was cramped and hot. Rafters were strung everywhere and the only items there were in a small corner of the room. We worked together in close proximity, finding nothing. The heat caused perspiration odor to rise from her body. On anyone else, it might have been offensive, but coming from her, it screamed to my primitive brain, 'female. Desirable female – take her.' I tried to concentrate on the task, but periodically found myself touching her and lifting her silky hair from the back of her neck to cool her. Having found nothing, we descended back down to the second floor.

"Paris, after that, I need a shower," she said.

"So do I," I said; visions of both of us in the shower rose in my mind.

"Unfortunately, I didn't bring any clothes," she said.

Additional visions of Elizabeth parading around the house, naked, increased my libido. I firmly clamped them and my passion down. Instead, I said huskily," Mom was close to your petite size; maybe she has something to fit you."

I guided her to my parents' bedroom and she checked the chests, dresser and closets for items to wear. The close proximity of the bed triggered additional fantasies, but the fact that it was my parents' room caused me to choke on them.

Elizabeth chose a pair of jeans and some under things, topped by a t-shirt. I showed her where the towels were kept, and she went to the bathroom to take a shower. I checked the bedroom thoroughly, while I waited. There was no hidden safe, no concealed space, nothing to indicate the presence of a hiding place. Soon Elizabeth emerged from the bathroom, her hair slightly damp, smelling of bath soap and woman.

"Your turn," she said.

I grabbed some clothes from my bedroom, and took a quick shower. I noticed that my chest and my hand were hurting and I decided not to put a shirt on until I had had a chance to examine the injuries in the full-length mirror. I came out of the bathroom, to find Elizabeth waiting there.

She took one look at my naked chest and her eyes widened. "Paris, you're hurt."

"Yeah, I know. The Shadow tagged me with the baton."

"Sweetheart, I didn't know. You might have a broken rib. Go and lie down on the bed and let me examine you."

"Yes, Doctor," I replied. I went through my bedroom's open door and then lay on the bed. Elizabeth sat next to me. She examined the huge bruise on my side and my swollen hand. Her hands were gentle as she probed and stroked my side. I reacted to her touch with a surge or desire.

"Well," she said, "nothing broken, it's too late for a cold compress so we'll have to use heat." She didn't remove her hands from my chest, and then began to smooth and stroke my skin.

"You know, when we were up in the attic, the scent of you was overpowering. I couldn't concentrate. I wanted to ravish you right there, in the room," she said, while stroking my chest.

I groaned. "Don't start anything we can't finish," I said.

"Who says we can't finish?"

"I do. When it happens, I want to take a long time to relish it."

"Long time huh? Is that a threat or a promise?"

"A little of the former, and a whole lot of the latter."

She removed her hands, and sighed. "I suppose it's just as well. I still haven't started the pill, and I don't know what day my cycle is."

"I can solve that."

"How?" She said.

I rose from the bed, grabbed her around the waist, lifted her and sat her on the bed, in one smooth motion. I knelt at her feet, and said, looking into her eyes, "Elizabeth Rowan, will you marry me?"

She had a startled look on her face. "Paris I – you don't have to marry me just to sleep with me. I want it as much as you do."

"Beth, this has nothing to do with sleeping with you. I want you beside me for the rest of my life. The question remains, will you marry me?"

Her eyes grew soft, and started to glisten. "Paris – you wonderful, complicated man, of course I'll marry you. How could you ever have doubted it?"

My heart leaped in my chest. I crushed her to my body. I sought her lips and devoured them with mine. We fell back on the bed kissing and caressing each other through our clothing. Things might have progressed further, but at that instant, we heard a voice at the top of the stairs.

"Beth. Paris." Caesar' voice called. "Have you found anything?"

We hurriedly rose from the bed. I slipped on my t-shirt, and we emerged from the bedroom.

"No," I said, "we checked the attic and my parents' bedroom and we found nothing. Give us a minute, and we'll be down." I turned to Elizabeth. "Go on down. I've got to get my cell phone. You can make your call from it."

I retrieved my cell from my room and turned it on. The battery was nearly discharged, so I took the charger with me, and went back downstairs.

I rejoined the group who had moved to the kitchen, put the charger on the sink counter, plugged it in and sat the phone in the base. I looked at Elizabeth. "Sorry, it's discharged. It'll be a while before you can use it."

"You can use my cell, Beth," Alex said. "It's in my bedroom. Want me to get it?"

I interrupted. "My phone will be charged in a little while. It's getting late and we should make some supper. I imagine everyone's hungry."

"I need to make the phone call now, I think I'll use Alex's phone," Elizabeth said.

She and Alex left the kitchen. Caesar went with them, leaving me alone with Edward at the table. I cleared my throat and said nervously, "Just so you know sir, I've asked your daughter to marry me and she said yes."

Edward was silent for a while, looking at me. "Why am I not surprised? Are you asking for my blessings? Most young people don't bother."

"Your acceptance would be welcome, Edward. My parents taught me to respect people."

He smiled. "Very well, you have my blessings."

I changed the subject. "About what we were talking about this afternoon. When you were in Iran, were you working for MI5?"

He didn't say anything for a minute, just stared at me. "I suppose it doesn't matter anymore. Official Secrets Act be damned. What are they going to do, hang me?" He laughed. "Why do you want to know?"

"My future wife was involved in something you were doing. Don't you think she deserves to know?"

"She'll know – after I'm dead. I've left it in my will. She deserves happiness, Paris. Give it to her. Put her past away."

"Does MI5 know about the Shadows?"

Edward shook his head. "No, nothing. The people I worked with were working outside the intelligence agencies, although many of them were agents. We were a group that believed there was something going on, some group causing problems between countries, and manipulating governments for their own purposes. We shared intelligence as to their nature and activities. That's how I learned about the Shadows. Some of my associates would kill for what I have learned from you."

"Are you going to tell them?"

He thought for a while. "Under the circumstances, no. Although I may later, after this is all over. I do not betray my family. You will be my son-in-law, and your sister, I suspect, will be my daughter-in-law. That makes you family. You can be sure I will not reveal anything damaging about any of you."

Our conversation stopped when Elizabeth, Alex and Caesar entered the kitchen. "What's for supper?" Alex said.

We threw together a hasty meal out of leftovers. I realized that food was going to be a problem before long if the siege on the house continued, so I resolved to take stock tomorrow. After the meal, I turned on my cell phone to check the charge. I noticed the voice mail indicator was blinking so I checked the list. There were several calls from Harvey at the company, and three calls from Tom. I keyed Tom's voice mail and listened.

"Paris – dude, you should carry your phone – Hey. I found something on the hard drive. I'm sending you an email. Call me when you get this voice mail – Hey did you know your landline is disconnected? Better check with the phone company. Call me, bye."

I checked the other of Tom's voice mails and they were substantially the same. I didn't bother to listen to Harvey. I called Tom's number and he immediately answered.

"Hey Tom, it's Paris."

"Took you long enough."

"Sorry, I was out all day with my new fiancée."

"No! You gettin' married?"

"Yep. Just asked her today."

"What's her name?"

"Elizabeth."

"What does she look like?"

I looked at Elizabeth, who was listening to my side of the conversation. "She's beautiful, simply gorgeous."

"As pretty as your sister?"

"Prettier, I think."

"Wow. Am I invited to the weddin'?"

"You better be there, you're gonna be best man."

"No shit? Do I gotta wear a tux?"

"Haven't decided yet. I'll let you know. Hey, what's this about the disk drive?"

"Cracked that mother." I could hear the pride in his voice.

"Well, what's on it?"

"Some new stuff, didn't you get the email? Anyhow, I can tell you the better stuff now. I don't know if it's gonna help though."

"Tell me and we'll find out."

"Okay, this was associated with the user name we couldn't crack. It was two words."

"Okay, give. What were the words?

"The diary – I don't know what it means, but maybe you do."

"The diary? Was that all?"

"Yep. Just, the diary. Does that help?"

"Maybe, I'll have to think about it."

"Read the email, buddy. – Wow! You sure? I'm gonna be best man?"

"Wouldn't want anyone else."

"Thanks, Paris. Be seein' you."

Thank you Tom, I'll be in touch." I disconnected the cell phone.

The group in the kitchen was staring at me. Elizabeth looked embarrassed.

Alex's face wore a smirk. "So, Big Brother, when were you going to tell us?"

"Give me a break, Sis, I just asked her."

"Boy, are you slow. Caesar asked me four days ago." Now, it was Caesar's turn to look embarrassed.

I felt myself grin. "I'll bite, what did you say?"

"I told him I'd think about it – and I did – for about two seconds. Then I said yes."

"I've been meaning to talk to you about it, Paris, but with all that's been going on...," Caesar spread his hands and shrugged.

"I told you, Paris." Edward said.

"Folks, I think that this calls for a celebration. Alex, fill a big bowl with ice. I'm going to get a bottle of champagne from the wine cellar."

"I'm coming with you Paris," Elizabeth said.

I winced at her tone of voice. I was going to have to do some fast-talking. "Sure sweetheart, I'd enjoy your company."

We walked to the study to get the key. On the way, Elizabeth opened fire.

"Paris, I haven't agreed to a big wedding, we haven't talked about this at all. I thought we'd find a Justice of the Peace just to make it legal. Hell, I don't need to marry you. I could live with you and be just as happy."

Stopping at the head of the stairs, I held her arms and gazed into her eyes. "Beth, I guess that I'm just a romantic, but the thought of you in a wedding dress, with flowers all around you, makes my spine tingle. We get to do this once – just once. After that, it's forever. – Let's make the first and last time, last forever."

Her eyes were full of tears. After she regained her composure, she cleared her throat and said. "Are you going to keep doing this our entire lives?"

"As often as I can."

"I'll never survive it." She laughed and hugged me. "What am I getting myself into?"

"Us, darling, just us. Let's get the champagne."

We celebrated with snacks we managed to put together from the kitchen, and a full bottle of champagne.

Edward was exuberant, and had us laughing with revealing stories of Caesar and Elizabeth's early childhood adventures.

Alex and I told stories of our life here, and the adventures we'd had as adults. Soon, the bottle was empty, and Caesar and I helped Edward up the stairs. After he was prepared for bed and we'd settled him in my parents' bedroom, we went back downstairs.

Caesar went to Alex's side, and I joined Elizabeth. We all stood waiting.

Just in case there's any doubt," Alex announced, "Caesar and I will be sharing my bedroom."

She took his hand, and looked in his eyes. "Come on dearest, share my bed." She led him up the stairs.

Beth and I looked at each other.

Images of her lying naked in my bed made my throat grow tight but I forced the thoughts out of my mind. . "You can have my bedroom. I'll sleep on the couch."

"Paris – I – are you sure?"

"No...Yes. Beth, there's no way I would be able to control myself around you. It'll be better this way."

"Maybe you're right, we have time. I'll dream of you, you know."

Her words nearly made my resolve crumble. I took her in my arms, and gazed at her glistening eyes. I brushed my lips across hers and then deepened the kiss. My tongue tasted her mouth, and I almost fainted with desire.

Trembling, I released her. "You'd better go before I lose it."

She didn't say anything, just turned and walked up the stairs.

Stripping to t-shirt and under shorts, I grabbed one of the Afghans and settled into the couch. The moonlight streamed through the living room window, illuminating the room with a soft glow.

I couldn't sleep. I lay awake thinking of Elizabeth in my bed, wondering what she looked like, how she was dressed, and what it would feel like to have her body next to mine. I'd finally decided to go upstairs and plead with her to allow me into the bedroom, when an apparition appeared in the living room. She'd dressed in one of my shirts, her bare legs extending from the bottom. She looked unbelievably erotic.

"I tried, but your smell is on everything in that room. I couldn't sleep...I want you Paris. Come to bed with me."

All reason and logic vanished. I became a quivering mass of aroused male.

I rose from the couch, allowed her to take my hand and lead me upstairs to the bedroom.
Chapter 18

### Specter of Success

I awoke to the feel of Elizabeth's bottom pressed tightly against my groin. We lay as two spoons, my nose breathing the scent of her hair.

Sometime during the night, we'd passed out from exhaustion, and during our sleep, we'd separated. I missed that feeling. My whole body felt relaxed, sensuous with the languor of the morning.

Sometime later, we climbed out of bed, grabbed some clothing, and sneaked to the bathroom. Luckily, the hallway was empty.

We joined each other in the shower. Water, soap and caressing hands made it a long shower. We finally emerged, clothed, and then went downstairs into the kitchen.

When we entered, Alex and Caesar were seated at the table. Alex eyed both of us, and then turned to Caesar.

"Caesar, honey, we have to go back up to my bedroom and practice. I want to look like that in the morning." She pointed to Elizabeth.

Elizabeth's face blushed. Caesar had the grace to look embarrassed.

"I've got news, Alex, you've looked like that, for the last five days," I retorted.

She grinned. "Well, the Bowman farm isn't the only secluded place in the county. You'd be surprised what a spring day, a secluded meadow full of flowers and a blanket, will do for your libido. Of course, there's the fact that my truck has plenty of room and the bed in Caesar's bedroom is very inviting.

"Alexandra!" Caesar exclaimed.

He cleared his throat. "I stopped Alex from waking you this morning. I thought you might be tired. I hope that was proper."

"Very proper." Elizabeth smiled. "We needed our...rest."

Alex just grinned at both of us.

"Where's Edward?" I asked.

"He's at the computer. There seems to be something wrong with the Internet," Caesar replied.

"Before we work on computers, I think we both could use some food." Elizabeth said, looking at me. "Doctor's orders."

We worked together, constantly and deliberately brushing against each other as we prepared breakfast. The most mundane tasks seemed to be filled with significance. I couldn't take my eyes from her. Each glance brought memories of her body next to mine.

We ate silently, periodically locking gazes. Finally, I whispered in her ear. "Beth, if this keeps up, I'll be dragging you up to my bedroom again."

She sighed. "You won't have to, I'll be dragging you. You're right. We need to focus on our problems. Let's go see what's going on with the computer."

We rose from the table, put the breakfast dishes in the sink, and went to the study.

Caesar and Alex leaned over Edward's shoulder to look at the computer screen.

"Have you found the problem with the internet connection?" I asked.

"The bastards have either trashed the antenna or cut the cable." Alex replied.

"Caesar and I'll go outside to check it. Did anyone see where the Shadows were?"

"Alex and I checked this morning while you were asleep," Caesar replied. "They seem to have gone. The farm's empty of everyone but us."

"What? They've left? I don't like the sound of that."

"Why? It would seem that you would be relieved to know they have given up," Edward said. "Maybe your warning scared them off."

"They don't give up. It worries me."

Edward shrugged. "Perhaps the contention that you spoke of between Shadow groups is preventing them from trespassing on the property."

"Maybe...I still don't like it. Caesar, we'll take weapons. You carry the rifle and I'll take the shotgun."

"Where's the laundry room? We need clean clothes." Elizabeth asked.

"I'll show you." Alex replied. "We'll try to find more clothes for all of you. Edward would probably fit into Dad's old clothes the only problem is Caesar. He's so huge, and he can't parade around the house naked –as much as I might like it." She laughed.

Caesar shook his head and rolled his eyes.

We gathered the weapons, and left the house through the back door. I took a good look around the property as we walked to the barn.

Presently, Caesar spoke. "Paris, we need to talk."

I was about to make a wise crack, when I sensed that he was serious. "About what?"

"Alexandra."

"What about Alex?"

"Paris," he said gently. "We both love her. Although it's hard to believe that anyone could love her more than I, in your case, I think your love may almost be the equal of mine. I was hoping to do this properly, but as the saying goes, 'the cat is out of the bag'."

I waited to see where he was going with this conversation.

He stood erect with his stomach in, shoulders squared and chest out, like an enlisted man reporting for duty. "Allow me the honor of asking for your sister's hand in marriage. I promise to love her for the rest of my life."

I was unable to reply. I almost laughed, but I could see that he was very serious, and acting very British. He was also a big man.

I sobered and remembered that I had been just as serious with Edward. I thought for a moment and formulated a reply.

"You have my blessing on your union, Caesar. I only have one stipulation. Allow me the honor of asking for your sister's hand in marriage."

He grinned. "I guess that makes us brothers-in-law twice."

I had just acquired a brother. We had a common love. We both loved our women deeply. His love for Alex just had another dimension that I couldn't share. I faced him squarely. I held out my hand, and said, "Friends?"

He grinned and grabbed my hand. "More than friends, brothers – double jeopardy."

I laughed. "Now you're really pushing it, pal." Then I smiled. "Okay, Caesar – more than friends – brothers." We shook hands.

We checked the cable and the antenna, and finally found the problem.

I entered the kitchen through the back door, and seeing no one, decided to go to the study. I found Edward intently reading a file on the computer.

He grinned. "Good morning, Paris. Did you have a good rest?"

A little embarrassed at the insinuation behind the greeting, I held my composure, and answered simply, "Yes sir, I slept soundly."

His grin looked more like a smirk. "I should imagine." He rolled his wheelchair back from the desk and rotated it. "I've been reading some of the files on your father's computer and I may have found something."

My hopes rose. "Really? Anything about the missing data?"

Edward shook his head. "No, but I may have discovered where your father's research lead him. I arranged the files in chronological order, and followed his line of reasoning."

"Does it tell us where to find the information?"

Edward pursed his lips. "No, but it may give us some insight as to what to do with it. If, or when, we do find it."

My earlier hopes fell. "We need to discuss this, later, when everyone can be involved."

"As you wish, by the way, where's Caesar?"

I gestured to the hallway. "In the kitchen, he's guarding the network cable. It was just disconnected. I don't think the Shadows will try anything, but if they do, using the thermal sight, he can warn us. I need to try the Internet and down-load my email attachments."

Edward rolled his wheelchair away from the desk. I moved the desk chair, sat down and started the browser. Luckily the internet connection worked. I rapidly downloaded files from Gordon and Tom, closed the connection, and turned off the cable modem. "You can browse the 'net if you want, Edward, but I want to limit the time we're online. They may have someone smart enough to hack us. Just turn on the satellite modem when you want to use it."

He nodded and I rose from the desk chair to make room for him. At that moment, Alex and Elizabeth entered the study. I couldn't help it. My heart started pounding at the sight of Elizabeth. She came over to stand by my side. _Down boy, wait until tonight._

"Where's Caesar?" Alex asked.

"In the kitchen. I'll go get him," I replied.

When I entered the kitchen, Caesar still stood guard.

He heard me and turned. "What's happening?"

"I guess we're going to have a council. The others are in the study. I came to get you."

"Did the internet connection work?"

"Yeah, worked fine."

He checked the safety on the rifle and propped it by the door.

I turned to walk back to the study and he followed.

We entered the study and Caesar went over to stand by Alex. I stood by Elizabeth.

"Okay, folks, pull up a seat and let's make some plans," I said.

Caesar sat down, and Alex immediately plopped in his lap. Caesar looked a little embarrassed, but he put his arms around her and drew her close.

Although I would have loved to have Elizabeth in my lap, she demurely pulled up a chair and sat beside me. "Later, Paris," she whispered.

I glared at Alex and she said, "Hey. There wasn't enough room. Someone would have had to stand."

"Yeah. Right," I retorted. She looked smug.

"Okay. Here's the way I see it," I said. "We have some new information that may help, if we can find what Dad hid. Therefore, I'm inclined to look for the hiding place, before we explore the new data. Any opinions?"

"Paris, we've been through the house at least twice," Alex replied. "What makes you still think its here? Maybe he hid it elsewhere."

I moved my head in negation. "Logic convinces me. The house is the only place safe from the Shadows. All Dad had to do was to hide it well enough from the Normals who might attempt to break in. We saw what happened to the burglar who tried that. Dad had the handguns and the shotgun for close-in work, and I imagine he slept with at least one of them. It was a damn near perfect defense. Therefore, he hid it in the house. Besides, Tom told me something last night that may lead to the place he hid it."

Alex's eyebrows rose. "Well? Don't pause for the dramatic effect, Paris. Out with it. What did he say?"

I leaned back in my chair and crossed my legs. "He found some words hidden in a file in the computer. Just two words. The diary."

Alex appeared doubtful. "Mom's diary? Paris we read Mom's diary. It didn't say anything about a password."

"Maybe the password is diary or the diary." Caesar said. "Did your father keep a diary?"

Alex shook her head. "Not that I know of, and I spent more time with him than Paris did. But he kept a journal."

I sighed. "We haven't found it. I imagine it's with the other research that he hid."

"Well," Edward said, "it seems that we have two choices. It's either the words themselves, or something written or hidden in the diary. Where is this diary?" He asked.

"I'll get it," Alex rose from Caesar's lap, and left the study.

In a short time, she returned clutching the diary, and resumed her seat on Caesar's lap.

"May I see it?" Edward asked.

Alex handed the diary to him. He read the first few pages and smiled. Then he turned to the last two entries, and read intently. His smile disappeared. He leafed through the blank pages, and examined the cover and the binding. He looked up from his examination. "I imagine this may have been very painful for both of you."

I just nodded. Alex closed her eyes, and snuggled closer to Caesar.

"May I see it too?" Elizabeth extended her hand.

Edward handed the diary to her and she read the last two pages. She remained silent for a moment.

"Your mother must have been a very brave and caring woman. – I remember. – At the time of her passing, with her last strength, she said something. Until now, I hadn't understood it. That last phrase in the diary. Those were the words she spoke."

Alex cried softly. I wasn't far from it. The pain had been too recent.

"It's French. It means 'life-love'," Edward said. "I think we need to take a break. I could use some tea. Anyone else?"

Caesar cuddled Alex, stroking her hair. He nodded.

Elizabeth rose and, taking my hand, pulled me with her to the kitchen. She sat me down in one of the chairs and pulled my head into her bosom. She stroked my hair.

I put my arms around her waist and nestled into to her soft body. The touch helped. It calmed me. After a while, she took my head in her hands and looked intently into my eyes.

"Will you be all right?" I nodded. She leaned down and kissed me softly. "I'll start the water."

We brought the tea set into the study.

Edward started the conversation. "As I see it, we've only two choices. Either the words, or the phrase in the diary."

"Why do you think the phrase may be the password?" Caesar asked. "It could be anything."

Edward chuckled. "It's a phrase I think John would have been very familiar with. You didn't see him with Jenny, I did. I've never seen two people more in love – at least, not until now." He smiled at the group of us. "Not that I blame him. She was wonderful. I envied him."

"We may as well try it," I said. "It's more hope than we've had before. We've got to solve this. We're running out of time. If we find it, we can bargain. Without it, our choices become nil."

"Okay. I'll start," Edward said. We rose as a group and gathered around the computer. He began to key-in the user name. Suddenly I said, "Wait. I think we should read Tom's email first."

"Why?" Edward said.

"It may contain more clues about the password," I replied.

He shrugged. "Very well, you'll have to find it."

I took over the key board and opened Tom's email.

Hey Paris

I found some more data on the hard drive. It's in the attachment. But I also found something else. There is a phrase hidden in what I think is an image file. It's an old trick used to hide information in an ordinary picture. I wasn't able to recreate the image, but I was able to read the information. It reads "the diary". Does that help?

See Yah

Tom

"Ok. I guess it's nothing more than we already knew," I said. "Go ahead, Edward, let's switch users."

I returned the keyboard to his reach. He switched users, and keyed in the user name, 'shining bright'. "Ok. What do we try first?"

"We only get three shots at this," I said, "and if we fail, this computer will trash all of the data."

His hands poised over the keys. "So, what's first?"

I clenched my jaw. "Start with 'the diary'."

He keyed in the password, and hit the enter key. The computer paused for a moment.

'Warning: Bad user name or password. Please reenter password. Computer will shut down in 60 seconds if correct password is not entered.' The backwards counting clock appeared on the screen.

My spirits sank. Edward quickly keyed in, La vie l'amour. The clock paused for a moment, and then continued to count down.

"We're toast," Alex moaned.

I thought furiously. Everyone seemed paralyzed, watching the clock count backwards. I was feeling like my life was ticking backwards with the clock. I watched all my hopes dissolve into a few seconds of time. At once, a strange sensation invaded me. I felt something familiar, something warm. An image formed in my mind of Dad sitting at the computer.

"Key in 'life love'" I said. "Do it now." Edward keyed 'life-love' into the space reserved for the password. "No." I said. "Use an underscore, not a hyphen."

He hurriedly corrected the entry, and hit the enter key with about two seconds to spare.

The clock paused. The computer seemed to hesitate for an eternity. Soon the screen cleared, and changed into a new screen. It had one file on the desktop.

Everyone exhaled at once. "We're in!" Alex shouted. We broke into spontaneous cheers and laughter. Caesar and I gave each other a high-five. Then we all collapsed on the chairs.

"How did you know?" Edward said, curious.

"Edward, I don't think I'll ever understand it. I just knew."

He just stared at me with an appraising look. "Well," he said. "I don't think our task is completely done. Unless you have some idea of what this means?" He turned the screen our way. On the screen was an image of me with some of my Army buddies, sitting at a table and smiling at the camera.

"All of that – for a picture?" Elizabeth asked.

Everyone stared at the image.

"It's not just the picture," I said. "Remember, we've gained access to the administrator account. We can use it to examine other information and remove that dangerous security program."

"Paris, Tom set up an administrator account before. We don't need this one," Alex said.

I had no answer for her. She was right. Why was this picture so important that it had to be protected? I thought for a moment.

"This is a picture of me and some of my Army friends. It was taken in New Orleans."

"I think John was a devious man," Edward said. "This picture must mean something."

He was right. But what could it mean? I paused, thinking about New Orleans, what might be special about New Orleans? I studied the picture carefully. I remembered when it had been taken. We were sitting in one of the nightclubs on Bourbon Street, drinking beer and listening to the Jazz. It was the first time I'd ever drank...

"Voodoo!" I shouted. "That's what he meant." I laughed.

"What?" Elizabeth exclaimed, "What the hell do you mean by 'voodoo'? –I mean – beside the word, which we all know. How does that help us?"

"You were right Edward. Dad was a very devious man. In the picture, we're drinking a beer that I learned to like while in New Orleans. It's called 'Blackened Voodoo'. Since the hurricane, it's been in short supply. It just so happens that there is an ample supply of the beer in the basement. The hiding place must be behind it."

"The wine cellar," Alex whispered. "It must be in the wine cellar."

We hurried to the basement. Edward insisted on accompanying the party, so Caesar and I carried him down the stairs in his wheelchair.

I led the group to the wine cellar and used the key to open it.

"It's well disguised," Edward said. "If I hadn't had a guide, I would've had difficulty finding it."

The rear of the compartment contained the cases of beer.

I entered, turned on the light, and started handing out the cases. Soon the rear of the space was free.

I faced what appeared to be a blank wall and I examined it, looking for something that would indicate an opening or that it was other than what it appeared to be.

I turned to face the expectant group.

"Sorry to disappoint, everyone, but I can't find any hidden opening. It seems that I may have been wrong."

As we stood staring at the compartment, Edward spoke. "I have some experience in finding secrets, check the very top and bottom of the back wall, particularity in the corners."

I shrugged and reentered the space. I checked the top and bottom as Edward had instructed, examining the corners carefully. It wasn't until I looked at the bottom right corner that I saw something that was out of place. There was a tiny hole, one that could be easily overlooked, and considered just a flaw in the molding. I described what I had found to the anxious group.

I heard Edward's voice instructing someone to get a needle or a pin, preferably something long, so I waited.

After a while, Caesar leaned into the closet, and handed me a long, sharp rod. I recognized it as a roasting skewer. I inserted the skewer in the hole and felt around. It went in a long way. I pushed the skewer in nearly its full length, and finally encountered something solid. It felt like metal.

I pushed, and heard a click. The whole back of the wall swung inward. I heard gasps behind me. Behind the wall, a light suddenly flickered on.

Reluctant to enter, I turned away and exited the wine cellar. "It seems we've found it. –I need a beer."

I pulled one of the warm bottles of beer from the case, removed the cap and sat down on the floor.

"Is that beer any good?" Edward asked.

"I think so. Why? You want one?"

He reached out. "Yes, please."

We sat quietly, drinking the beer, while the others crowded into the space behind the wall.

"Not bad, but I've had better," he said.

I chuckled. "Edward, you're British. Of course you've had better. Only you folks should chill it properly."

He shuddered and laughed. "Sacrilege!"
Chapter 19

### Coin Toss

We hadn't been able to fit Edward through the door, so he was the only one of the group that had not seen the interior of the small room.

The room was long but narrow. It looked as though it had been built behind a false wall.

The wine cellar closet projected into the room, leaving barely enough space to enter it. When the entry door was fully opened, it fit snugly against the hidden room's wall.

The room measured approximately six feet in width, but extended the whole length of the false wall. Inside the room sat several filing cabinets, a computer, and a video projector. The filing cabinets gaped, almost empty of their contents, which currently were the object of intense scrutiny by the whole group.

Alex complained. "You know what's missing here? The how-to. There's a lot of data, but no instructions."

Caesar grimaced. "Maybe your father thought it would be self-evident from the data, but how could anyone make sense of this mess?"

Edward looked up from the document he read. "Apparently John did. We must focus on that fact, and realize that the methods are here if we are intelligent enough to find them."

"From what I'm seeing," Elizabeth said, "we would have to re-create his entire line of research, and we don't have that much time." She looked at me.

Her look reminded me. A strong-willed woman, she was sure to allow her sense of responsibility to override her fear of personal danger. There were limits on how much I could do to protect her, so the clock was ticking. "Beth is right. We need to short-circuit this process. I think Dad's journals hold the answers."

I'd appropriated the journals as soon as they were discovered and I was currently reading them.

I looked up from the page I'd been reading. "Regardless of whether or not we learn to use his secrets, we still have the data as a bargaining chip."

"I noticed you grabbed the journals first, Paris," Alex said. "Why shouldn't I be the one who tries to use them? The letter said I could be better than you at it, whatever _it_ is, so why should you be the one who tries it?"

Unable to reply, I realized she was right. However, I'd skipped ahead in the journals, hoping to find simple instructions and instead had found pages of warnings that indicated that the process was filled with traps, some of which could kill the unwary.

I'd become more careful in my reading.

"Alex, I..." I looked helplessly at Caesar, hoping he would intercede.

"I think what Paris is trying to say, is that I would never forgive him if something happened to you, and he's right."

"Lover, we're going to have a serious discussion of gender roles tonight. Have you two forgotten who drove the truck to the farm yesterday? This macho bullshit has no place in this discussion." From her look, Alex was angry.

"Alex, calm down," I said. "I admit it. Call it what you will. Call it the male biological imperative to protect the female regardless of the cost. I've got it, in spades."

She didn't seem convinced.

"Okay, I'll compromise. Let me read the journals," I said, "and assuming they contain your 'how-to', I'll determine who I think will have the best chance to succeed, and that includes all of us. I'll present my reasoning to the group, and we'll all make a decision, one we can all live with. Agreed?"

Alex seemed a little less irritated. "Agreed." Then she turned to Caesar and poked him in the chest. "But you –," she prodded him again. "You – are going to have to come groveling to my bedside tonight, and we are going to have a discussion about your maleness and my femaleness. – Even though I may think it's kind of sweet. – You got that?"

It was almost comical. I could see him withering under her assault. I took pity on him.

"Caesar? Would you like a beer? We can sit out on the back porch and talk about women."

Both Alex and Beth glared at me and went upstairs.

Caesar didn't take me up on the offer; he followed the women, most likely to do some groveling when he got the chance.

I didn't blame him. Under the same glare, I'd grovel too.

"What do we do with all this paper, Paris?" Edward asked.

"The paper? Burn it. Beth said that the stuff was all backed up, scanned-in on CD. Anything that appears to be old or valuable, keep. Everything else can be put into the fireplace, except for the journals."

While he sorted, I started reading the journals from cover to cover.

After a while, Edward indicated that he was finished, and we called the group downstairs to gather the papers for burning.

Caesar and I carried Edward back to the study and I went back to the basement for some privacy to resume my reading.

Sometime later in the night, I finished the last journal.

I'd finished with a sense of foreboding. The journals had depicted my father's step by step efforts to acquire the necessary control to mimic the Shadows and the number of times he'd almost died in the attempt. The brain was a powerful organism but not without its limits. If the practitioner made a misstep it could result in an unrecoverable coma and possible death.

I'd gained new respect for my father's intellect and courage.

The house was still and quiet. I went upstairs to my bedroom and joined Elizabeth.

* * *

I awoke to an empty bed and stretched. My body felt ready for lovemaking but since no Elizabeth lay beside me to fulfill my need, I squelched it with a will.

Then I remembered her with me last night. It didn't help.

After a while, I crawled out of bed and went to the bathroom.

I emerged, fully dressed and looked for company. Hearing voices coming from the living room, I went to join them. As soon as I entered, the conversation ceased.

"Good morning. Did everyone sleep well?" I was met with an uncomfortable silence. "Okay, what's the cold shoulder routine all about?"

Alex spoke up. "While you were sleeping this morning, I read some of Dad's journals, particularly the required warning labels. You know the 'don't try this at home' variety? We've been discussing the stupid idea you proposed last night and we've come to the conclusion that you're a freaking idiot."

Elizabeth's face held a look of fear. "Paris, there must be a better solution. I don't want you risking your sanity or life in this crazy effort. I can't lose you. I just can't."

The room fell silent. "How about you, Edward?" I said.

He shrugged. "I don't have much life left. I'd try it, because I haven't much to lose, but you and Beth have a lifetime to live. If I were in your position son, I wouldn't attempt it. At least, not without careful preparation."

I looked at Caesar. It was hard to read him. He finally spoke. "Wild horses couldn't drag me into that room, Paris and I've forbidden Alexandra to attempt it. I'm not going to risk her." Alex glowered at him and he glowered back. After a few exchanges of unrelenting looks, she sighed and slouched in her seat. I suspected that the discussion on gender roles last night had not been all one-sided.

"Well, contrary to the comments concerning my intelligence and lack of leadership ability, I refer of course to my 'stupid' and 'idiot' status," I said, nodding to Alex, "I decided last night that none of us could hope to complete the requirements in the short time we have available. To do so would court disaster."

"Therefore, I'd like to present the following compromise. Edward, you, Beth and Caesar would require the months of preparation and exercise Dad had, to be able to attempt the smallest of these mind training exercises, because you're normal human beings.

"Alex and I, on the other hand, have a unique genetic heritage that may make the tasks easier, and the results more effective. Therefore, I propose that either Alex or I attempt the exercises that have the least risk associated with them, and if we succeed, we can all discuss our next step together." I waited.

"That sounds reasonable," Edward said. "Do we get to pick the exercises involved?"

"Yes," I replied.

"Then I have no objection."

"Caesar?"

"I don't want Alexandra at risk," he said.

"No problem, since I'm the one who'll try it."

"Whoa, wait just a damn minute," Alex said. She turned to look at Caesar "Boundaries, lover, boundaries. Remember? We agreed?" He looked angry, but didn't answer. She turned again to face me. "Either you or me, Paris, that's the deal." She crossed her arms, and sat back in her chair.

"What about me? Do I get a say in this discussion?" Elizabeth sounded irritated.

I cringed. Any wrong response was littered with more emotional land mines than I had ever faced in Iraq. I quickly decided that retreat was the better option.

"Doctor Rowan has the floor." I sat down.

Beth looked a little startled, but she stood up.

"I think you all know my opinion. However, for the sake of argument, let's suppose that what you want to attempt is real. If that's true, then you are asking me to risk the sanity or health of either my future husband, or sister-in-law. Neither choice is acceptable." Although a little woman, when she had her Doctor Rowan persona on, she seemed to stand six feet tall and breathe fire. None of us dared challenge her. "The only way I will agree to this experiment is if I am medically monitoring the participant, and if, in my professional judgment, this exercise poses a threat to their well-being, I can stop it."

A rapid chorus of 'You bet' – 'agreed' – 'absolutely' – 'Certainly' replies stumbled across each other in near unison. She sat back down.

"Alright. Beth, what do you need to monitor me?" I asked.

"Stop." Alex said. "You're not getting away with that. We haven't decided who'll attempt it yet."

I had hoped to stampede the group to avoid endangering Alex, even though I knew it would be a fruitless hope.

I sighed. "Okay, Alex. I suggest we choose randomly."

She grinned. "Okay, how about rocks, paper, scissors?"

"No way, Sis, you cheat."

Alex stuck out her lower lip. "I do not."

"Yes you do." Caesar interjected, before I could say it.

"I suggest a coin toss," I said.

She smiled. "Good idea. I just happen to have a coin in my pocket..."

"No. Caesar will choose the coin and he will toss it," I said.

She looked stubborn, but didn't object.

"I get to call it," she said.

"Agreed," I replied.

Caesar extracted a coin from his jeans and poised it on his thumb. He waited for her to call the flip.

"Tails," she said.

The coin spun in the air and landed on the carpet.

"Heads," Caesar said. He looked relieved.

Alex glanced around at the group. She looked ready to protest, but apparently seeing no support; she acquiesced and said, "Okay, Paris tries it first."

Beth and I went down to the basement alone. She brought the picnic basket containing the medical equipment she'd removed from her house.

We sat, yoga-style, on one of the area carpets, while she removed items from the basket. She held up two little round disks with wires attached.

"These are heart monitors."

She removed another item.

"This is to monitor your pulse and blood pressure."

Last, she removed a small plastic box. "This is to connect it all so I can monitor it remotely. Edward wears one. I will be using this," she held out a complex looking display, "to check your vital signs. Don't do anything stupid, Paris. It would devastate me to lose you."

I didn't reply. My mind battled conflicting emotions. I felt guilty for risking myself, knowing that if something went wrong she would be hurt beyond reason. But if I didn't try, the horror that she might experience from my failure could deprive her of her sanity.

She removed a razor and some gel to shave the hair from my chest. I watched her while she worked. "Beth, do you believe in life after death?"

She looked up from her work and said, "What? Why are you asking that question now?" She looked panicked.

"It's nothing to do with the room." I indicated the hidden room.

"A while ago, when we were trying to crack that computer, I sensed something in the study. It seemed to guide me to the answers. It was as though my father was present, helping me. I've never felt anything like that before."

"I don't know," she replied, "as a doctor, I've seen a lot of death and dying, most of it painful and demeaning. But sometimes, as in the case of your mother, death seems to transcend all of the suffering and seems almost noble. After being with you, and experiencing you," her eyes grew moist, "I hope that the universe is not cruel enough to ever separate us."

I stroked her hair and her face. "I love you, Beth."

She choked back her tears. "If we don't stop this, I'll never get you ready."

"Yes, doctor."

Once I was prepared to her satisfaction, I entered the room and opened the journals to the exercises that the group had agreed upon.

Most of the tasks required a darkened room and the aid of the video projector. The projector displayed images on the far wall, and I was required by the instructions to make sense of the images.

The journals provided insight as to the process and the expected outcome. After having read them, I'd started to gain an appreciation of how much of a genius my father really was.

Although the focus of the physicists was on finding and tapping the communications medium, he had dismissed that as being immaterial.

The medium existed, so use it.

The question was, how did the Shadows influence the minds of others and how could they influence another person's mind to act according to their desires?

Dad had a wealth of knowledge gleaned from Professor Bowles and other scientists, and the insight he had acquired from his own specialty.

He reasoned that the Shadow's brains were able to obscure the pattern recognition area of the visual cortex, thereby rendering a normal brain incapable of interpreting the outline of the Shadow as a human being. This required two skills. First, the Shadow had to sense his or her pattern in the mind of a normal human, and second, the Shadow must create a counter pattern to fool the recognition field.

He postulated that the Shadow's brains had acquired this ability genetically, and could accomplish it as a reflexive action, but what about a normal brain?

Could it learn to recognize, generate and project a pattern?

He speculated that the communications link existed in the quantum effects of the micro-tubular structures in the neurons of all human brains but a normal brain was unable to filter the pattern from the background noise, and therefore, could not sense it.

A large body of anecdotal information existed concerning people who'd had episodes of sensing something was about to occur. Sometimes, this six-sense spanned distant geographical locations.

Was it possible that by random chance, the person's brain had tuned into another pattern?

Could the ability be prevalent in all types of humans, but only expressed in the Shadows?

If so, it might mean that by training their mind, normal humans could emulate the Shadow's genetic ability.

Dad had started by forcing his brain to define patterns. This effort was the focus of the first series of exercises in the journal.

The images were similar to the picture that Gordon had shown us, but the requirement was not to see either Albert Einstein or Marilyn Monroe, but to see both as one.

I sailed through the journals easily, toppling each of exercises, one by one, and my confidence increased geometrically. I began to feel a change.

With a guilty feeling, I ventured into those areas identified as dangerous.

The journals warned that the brain contained a limited energy source.

If it concentrated overlong on a given task or worse yet, became locked in a feedback loop, the result could exhaust the brain's energy by converting excessive amounts of glucose to feed brain activity, forcing the nerve activity to cease and thereby rendering the victim comatose or dead. It was similar to the sugar crash experienced by overlarge doses of insulin, but much worse.

The only remedy was an immediate injection of glucose to restore brain activity.

I felt powerful, I felt my mind changing, establishing new patterns, and rejoicing with each triumph.

Soon the exercises became more difficult, more abstract.

Near the end of the journals, I strained to accomplish each task.

About to quit, I decided on one more effort.

* * *

"Paris! Paris! Do you hear me?" A panicky voice shouted.

I strained to focus on the voice. There was something important about it. I had no concept of whom or where I was, but the voice meant something to me.

I felt thumping on my chest, and the voice said, "Damn it, Paris! Wake up."

Wake up? I wasn't awake? Oh yes, my eyes were closed. I opened them, only to see a very angry goddess, ready to hammer her fist down again upon my chest. I raised a feeble arm to ward her off.

"Please! Don't hit me again. It hurts," I said with a cracked voice.

I stared at the face of the vision that hovered above me.

The face flashed through a range of emotions, finally settling on one that looked to be relief.

My memories of my conscious self began creeping feebly back. I became aware of my surroundings. "What happened?" I croaked.

"What happened? What happened, is you damn near killed yourself – you jackass."

The vision finally resolved itself into Elizabeth's face, and I was fully aware of the world around me.

"I think I may have made a mistake."

"Mistake?" She jerked an IV from the back of my hand, and slapped a bandage on the wound. "Mistake? You nearly die and all you can say is, 'I made a mistake'?"

She turned to Caesar who knelt nearby. "You deal with this idiot before I get angry enough to finish what he started. Don't let him up until I say so." She stalked off toward the stairs.

I rubbed my chest. "I think she's really mad at me. My chest hurts."

"Beth had to shock you. Your heart stopped beating," Caesar said.

I looked toward the stairs. "Is she all right?"

Caesar shook his head. "Probably not. That's why doctors don't treat people they're emotionally attached to. No professional objectivity."

I tried to sit up. "I feel weak."

Caesar placed a restraining hand on my shoulder. "Paris, I'm sorry, but you're going to have to get over it fast. We've got a bigger problem."

"What kind of problem?" My head began to ache.

Caesar looked grim. "There's a bloody SWAT team surrounding the house. That kind of problem."
Chapter 20

### Busted

I groaned, "Help me up. I need to see this."

"No, Beth said to wait until she gets back."

I struggled to rise. It was an effort just to lift my head. I knew I couldn't get up without help.

I looked up at Caesar, and saw Alex's medallion on his chest. "Where's Alex?"

"She went out to try and negotiate with the police. They put her in handcuffs." He glanced down at the medallion. "Before she left, she told me to wear this, it might protect me."

My respect for my sister's intelligence increased. "Good idea. Maybe it will help."

My mind started working again. Was there anything in the house that could make this problem worse? Anything they could use against us?

"What about the room? Where are the journals?"

"Don't worry. I put all the stuff in the file cabinets and locked it. We've all been busy while you were unconscious."

"Do you have the key?"

"Yes. Alex put it in the locket, behind the medallion."

"Damn, my sister's smart. I wouldn't have thought of that.–When's Beth coming back?"

"Probably when she cools down. She was terrified, Paris. She thought she was going to lose you. It's hard to be a doctor under that kind of pressure. Add a SWAT team on top of that – Well, I think you get the idea."

He was right, I felt horribly guilty. I could try my whole life, and never make this right, although I would damn sure try.

"Caesar, go up to the study, and look in the desk drawer. There's a safe deposit key in there. I can't remember the number, but it's the only key with a number on it. Get it and bring it back."

"Beth said to stay with you until she returned."

"Please, Caesar, it's important."

"Okay, if you promise not to try and get up."

"No danger of that, trust me."

In a little while, Beth returned. I could see that she'd been crying. She removed a syringe from her supplies and filled it. "What's that," I asked.

"Mild stimulant. You probably won't be able to pass a drug test, but at least it will get your ass moving."

"I'm sorry, Beth. I promise. I'll never do anything like that to you again, never."

She looked at me as though she didn't believe me. The drug was starting to take effect. I could feel my strength returning.

"Okay, now get up – slowly," she said.

I rose up to a sitting position. I felt light headed. I waited until the dizziness passed, and Beth helped me to my feet. She studied me anxiously.

"Can you walk?"

"I think so, why?"

"The police want us all out of the house or they'll storm it. I felt someone could be hurt if they did, so I gave you the drug."

We started for the stairs. "Wait. I forgot my medallion."

She looked annoyed, but returned for the locket and handed it to me. "Beth I want you to wear this. It may be the only protection I can offer you. – Please?" She looked skeptical, but put it around her neck. "How does it feel?"

"I don't – wait." Her eyes grew round. "It's weird. It feels like I'm wearing you."

"Don't take it off. No matter what happens."

We went upstairs to join Caesar and Edward.

I approached Caesar. "Did you get it?" He didn't say anything, just handed me the key. I gave the key to Elizabeth. "Put this in the locket, behind the medallion."

"What's the safe deposit key for, Paris?" Edward said.

"A bunch of illegal shit Silas gave us. If the police find it, they can lock us up and throw away the key. Keep it in the locket."

I could see that everyone was ready to leave, but I had one last thing to say.

"Okay, listen to me. The Shadows have done this. I don't know how, but I'm sure of it. They've managed to separate us in a way that we can't fight. If they take you, keep your mind focused on one thing. Whatever it takes, Alexandra and I will never abandon you. We'll find you and bring you home. Nothing can stop us. Edward, they may leave you free. If they do, try to help us. Remember, we love you all."

I stared at them, memorizing their faces. My thoughts were consumed with the dread that I would never see them again. I felt an overwhelming sense of failure that I had been unable to protect them, coupled with a grinding rage over what they might suffer. I felt defeated, hopeless. There was nothing more to say.

"Let's go."

We exited the house. As soon as we were clear, the police rushed us, threw me to the ground, and handcuffed me.

Elizabeth protested, but they ignored her. They dragged me to a SWAT van and threw me on one of the seats.

Alex, in handcuffs, sat on another bench. "You look like shit, Paris."

"I've felt better," I said.

"I never expected this," she said.

"Neither did I. It seems like we're up against some smart bastards. Who could have imagined they would be able to pull off something like this?"

At that moment, a SWAT officer entered the van. "Shut up," he said, "No talking."

The van took off and we were taken to the county jail. After booking us, drug testing us, and taking all our possessions, I used my obligatory phone call to call the law firm. They assured me that they would arrange bail. I wound up in a cell separated from Alex.

It was the most miserable day of my life.
Chapter 21

### Jailbreak

Although the mattress on the narrow bed was hard and lumpy, at least I'd had a night's sleep in which to recover.

I hadn't been given an opportunity to shower, and I smelled like it. Breakfast was okay but plain. I couldn't eat much of it anyway.

Pacing back and forth in the cell, my stomach felt like a churning mass of acid and I finally puked my breakfast in the toilet.

My headache came back and my thoughts brought no comfort, they circled back to Elizabeth and Caesar, and what they were experiencing.

I finally suppressed them, turned off my mind and waited in misery for my lawyer.

The world sucked and I felt helpless, like the universe had conspired to defeat me and crush the people I loved.

I squandered the morning drowned in misery.

None of the deputies would talk to me as they made their rounds, so I didn't have a clue as to what was happening. I wondered if Alex was getting the same treatment.

Hours dragged by. I had no way of knowing how many since they'd taken my watch. I thought I would go mad from the anxiety.

Finally, during what I judged to be the late afternoon, a deputy came to my cell and handcuffed me.

He led me to a conference room and opened the door, inside the room stood Alex and Kirk Brown. The deputy removed the handcuffs and closed the door leaving us all three together.

We sat at a table in the middle of the room.

"You look like shit, Paris," Brown said.

"Yeah. I've heard a lot of that lately."

Brown studied me. "What happened to you two? The prosecutor had a shopping list of more felonies and misdemeanors than I've ever seen at one time. Organized crime couldn't get in this much trouble, at least not in the time you've had."

"What are they accusing us of, exactly?" I said.

He began to tick off the items. "Criminal abduction to commit immoral acts, illegal drug use, you failed the drug test, money laundering, they found nearly half a million dollars in bank accounts in the house, all with amounts under ten thousand, and a list of traffic violations that's a page long. About the only thing they didn't accuse you of was cruelty to animals."

I looked at Alex. She just shook her head, and started laughing. "Oh God. I love it. This is just too priceless."

Kirk looked puzzled. "What's so funny? They're serious. You two could be put in prison for a long time."

"What's Alex being accused of?" I said.

"Alexandra's accused of conspiracy to commit immoral acts, and the traffic violations."

I leaned forward and stared him down. "I spent some time in the Army on Court Marshal boards, Kirk. I know a little about the law. Consenting acts between adults, particularity those about to be married, are not considered immoral acts. We're rich Kirk. We can have as many bank accounts in any denomination we want so long as it's our own money. Traffic violations that occur when a person is fleeing from mortal peril are not illegal, and the Rowans fled with us voluntarily to escape the same mortal peril. We sheltered them in our house as guests." I waved my hand in dismissal. "They can testify to all of this."

Brown's look grew uncertain. "There's a problem there. I can't find them. The police say that they are in protective custody, but they won't tell me where they are."

"What? Don't I have the right to face my accusers?" I asked.

Brown spread his hands. "The charges weren't brought by the Rowans. You're being accused by the State. The Rowans are listed as material witnesses."

My headache began to return. "All right. Just get us out on bail."

He shook his head. "I'm sorry, I can't. The prosecutor convinced the judge that you two were a threat to the Rowans. He said that you were psychotic, that you believed that invisible people were out to get you and you were a danger to society. The judge ruled that you were to be held without bail."

Alex moaned. "Oh shit, we're sunk."

"Don't worry. There's an upside," Kirk said. "They have to give you a psychiatric evaluation. If you pass it, I can argue for bail. If you flunk it, I can argue diminished capacity." He waited with a smile on his face.

"You will plead us not guilty," I said. "Because we're not...Guilty."

His smile faded. "If you're sure..."

"I'm sure. Just find some legal angle to arrange bail. We'll take it from there. How long will it take for this mental evaluation?"

"About a week, give or take a few days."

"Speed it up, no matter the cost, we'll pay it. Just arrange bail."

He rose, ready to leave and I stopped him. "One other thing. They've got me in what amounts to solitary confinement. Put a halt to it, and find me something to occupy my time, even if it's court documents. I'm going stir crazy. Do the same for Alex, and get us some clean clothes."

I hugged her. "Hang in there, Sis. We'll get out of this somehow."

"You know? I almost believe you," she said.

After the first day, I was treated a little more humanely. I was able to shower, and Kirk brought a change of clothing. I should have asked him for something besides court documents. At least there was a newspaper included.

Unfortunately, it did not lift my spirits, because we were all splashed across the front page. It was the most excitement that Jamestown had in years. _When I get out of this, I'm going to sue Russell County into bankruptcy._

About noontime, Bob Patterson brought lunch. "Thanks Bob. Can you tell me what's happening out there?"

He looked around the corridor. "Sorry 'bout yesterday, Paris. The Chief wouldn't let us talk to you. Alexandra says you're innocent. I'm inclined to believe her."

"Well, she's right. It seems we have some very powerful enemies. Do you know where the Rowans are?"

Bob shook his head. "Alexandra asked me that. We're not allowed to say. But the truth is that no one knows where they are. The Chief won't say. Your lawyer has been making his life miserable with court documents. He just clams up."

I pleaded with him. "Bob, if you find out, please guard them. Don't let anyone near them. The same people who have put us here want them too. Their lives are in danger."

He looked frightened. "It could mean my job, Paris. The Chief is acting real strange. I've never seen him like this before."

I felt my shoulders slump. "Do what you can, Bob, I'll be eternally grateful."

He left, leaving me to brood in my cell.

The next day the morning paper had lurid details of the love-nest at the Fox farm. I vowed to extend my suit to the State of Kentucky.

That evening I was led from my cell to the conference room. Again, they removed the handcuffs. Alex and Kirk Brown were waiting.

I waited for Brown to speak, but I had a feeling that I knew what he was about to say.

"I had a strange phone call today. It was from someone who assured me if you cooperated, I could arrange bail. I don't know if I believe him, but this was delivered by messenger. He said to give it to you. He'll be waiting for a reply. I'm supposed to call a number, and simply say, yes or no."

He removed something from his briefcase and laid it on the table. It was both of our medallions.

Although I was anticipating some attempt to negotiate, this was last on my list.

Crushed, all the fight I'd summoned left me. I thought I'd felt despair before, but this went to new depths. I looked at Alex.

She wore an anguished look that tore me up inside.

I stared at the floor. "We'll do anything they want. Tell them yes. Put the lockets back in your case. We'll get them tomorrow."

The next day arrived and we were escorted to the front of the County lock-up. Kirk Brown waited.

We signed some paperwork, recovered our possessions and donned our medallions.

By noon, we were out of jail, riding in Kirk's car, and headed out of Jamestown.

"Where are we going?" Alex asked.

"You can't go back to the farm. The house is a police crime scene. It's taped off. They said to drop you off along the road at a specific spot, and they'd arrange accommodations."

We drove for a while toward the Tennessee border.

Soon, we pulled off the main road to a side road. Kirk stopped the car.

We got out and waited. After a while, a large black Mercedes came down the road. It pulled in front of Kirk's car. Three large men emerged, carrying handcuffs.

"Brown, you son-of-a-bitch. You sold us out." I yelled.

The men began to walk toward us.

Brown wouldn't look at me. "I'm sorry, Paris. They threatened my family."
Chapter 22

### A New Ally

Another car roared up just as I was about to punch out my lawyer.

It scattered him and the three goons. It was a police car.

The passenger door popped open and a voice from inside said, "Get in if you want to see your friends alive again."

I piled into the passenger seat; dragging Alex with me. The driver didn't bother about seat belts. The car's engine roared again and fishtailed around, pointing the other way.

The driver was Detective Simmons.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I said.

"Protecting your ass. It's becoming a full-time job."

Alex started crying. I put my arm around her and hugged her close. I didn't know whether to laugh or join her. I felt drained of all emotions.

We clung together while the police car raced back towards Jamestown. After a while, I regained my composure.

"What are you doing in all this mess, Detective?"

"The name's Dan, Dan Simmons. Along with a few others, I'm trying to keep you safe. Your mother – stepmother, was my cousin. I'm like you. I can see the Shadows, but I can't join them."

By this time, Alex had stopped crying.

She sat up in the back seat. "Where are we going, Dan?"

Dan didn't take his eyes from the road. "My place, sweetheart. They're watching the farm."

The police car entered Jamestown and Dan drove to a small clapboard house on the edge of town, sited behind an antique store. The house stood between forks in the road, sheltered by two enormous pine trees that hid it from view.

Dan checked to make sure it was clear, and we entered through the front door. The tiny house had a postage stamp kitchen, a closet sized bathroom and a bedroom just big enough to hold the bed. The front door had opened to a small living room about half the size of a shipping container. It felt as though a regular sized house had been shrunk down to fit one man.

"Cozy," I said.

"Claustrophobic," Alex replied.

Dan chuckled. "It'll be a tight fit, but it's better than what the Shadows planned."

"We need to get back to the farm," I said. "Our only hope lies there."

"That's not easy," he said.

"Have they found... anything?"

Dan focused on me. "Do you mean have they found what they want? I doubt it. Otherwise, they wouldn't want you so badly. –Did you find it?" he asked.

I hesitated. "I'd rather not say," I replied.

He still stared at me. "So, you did find it. –Paris, you have to trust me. I'm probably the only one in Jamestown, other than your friends, you can trust. Like you, I'm immune to their influence."

"Why should we trust you?" I asked.

"I've known about you and Alex for over twenty years. If I'd wanted to harm you, I had plenty of opportunities."

"You said Mom was your cousin. We couldn't find anything about our parents' relatives," Alex said.

"Well, technically, honey, Jenny was not a relative, she was your stepmother," he replied.

"The woman who gave birth to us was not our mother. Jenny was our mother," she said.

He paused for a moment. "Very well, your mother and I were members of a Shadow Association. It's one of the Shadow organizations where not everyone in the group is related. Our Association is one of the more powerful ones. We are opposed to everything the Borgias represent. They were the ones who made your birth-mother mate with your father. They were trying to produce a hybrid."

"Wait a minute, Borgias? Like in Lucretia Borgia?" I asked.

"Yes. They've been around a long time. They're mainly Shadows. That's why their place in history is so notorious. They're very rich and very powerful. They're the ones who want you."

"This is so freaking crazy," Alex said. "About three weeks ago I was getting ready to attend the University of Cincinnati, and now my parents are dead and I'm listening to a Jamestown police detective talk about invisible people who happen to be related to Lucretia Borgia. I hope I wake up soon, I don't know if I can handle anymore of this nightmare."

She sat on the couch, leaned back, and closed her eyes.

"If you're supposed to be protecting us, where were you, when the Shadows sent a damned SWAT team after us?" I demanded.

"Easy, Paris – I'm sorry about that," he replied. "None of us knew that the Borgias would try something like that. It's got the Council really pissed. We have no idea what repercussions will come of this, but they did it and it's too late. We didn't get word of it until it was a done deal, otherwise we could have prevented it."

He paused. "Listen, I've got some beer in the fridge. Do either of you want one?" Dan said.

"More than one," I said.

"I'll take one too," Alex said.

I joined Alex on the couch.

She looked at me. "Paris, I just had an awful suspicion. Do you suppose mother was controlling us? Was that why when we were kids, we never needed to ask about where we came from?"

I felt uncomfortable with the question. She had a point, but my mind shied way from considering it. "Maybe. –But in a sense all parents control their children, consciously or unconsciously. It's in the past, Alex. Let it go."

Dan returned with two frosty, opened bottles and glasses.

"There's something I don't get, Dan, how was Mom involved in all of this?" I said.

"Drink your beer and I'll tell you."

He waited until we had taken a few swallows. "Jenny, your – mother, was a very powerful Adept. That's what the Shadows call members who have special abilities. She could have been the head of any House or Association. In fact, you can't be a Shadow organization without an Adept as its head. Once our group knew what the Borgias were attempting, she was asked to investigate you and Alex. She was supposed to help you if you showed any kind of mental illness or stress.

"I guess you could say that the People feel that a crazy Shadow is a dangerous one.

"She met your father, fell in love with him, and never left him. It was a loss to the Association, but she was stubborn. She protected you and your father, despite his folly. The bastards killed her in the only way they could, by running her car off the road.

"About two years ago, Jenny asked me to come to Jamestown to help her. I was tired of being a frustrated cop in a large city, so I agreed. I've watched over your family ever since. What you don't know is that we, that is, my Association, have kept the competing Houses away from you. A lot of effort has been invested in keeping you safe and now it looks like it's all for nothing.

"You need to run, get out of Kentucky, both of you."

His words brought back some of the old hurt and anger. I choked it down.

"That's not an option. Dan, we must get back into the house. It's the only way. I've got to finish what I started."

Alex roused herself. "Paris, you nearly died. You can't try that again."

"I've got to, Alex. It's the only choice."

"Beth won't be there to save you this time."

"I know – Alex, if we have to give ourselves to these creatures, we're dead anyhow. I can't live like that. I'd rather die trying to kill them. – Dan, can your Association help us?"

"The Council won't allow it. There are complex rules governing relations between Shadow groups, and you fall through the cracks. For what it's worth, I'll help. But the fact you're keeping a secret that can destroy the entire Shadow world makes most of the Shadow groups want your head. I'm afraid you're on your own."

_Tell me something new. We've been on our own since this thing started_. Maybe some of the Shadows had helped, but it hadn't changed the outcome. The solution, if there was one, would have to come from our efforts, not a mob of Shadow cowards who hid behind the scenery.

"What about the Council?" I said. "They have a reason to want this resolved quickly. Can't they help us?"

Dan looked at me with a sympathetic expression. "The Council only negotiates disputes between Houses or Associations. Rarely, if a member of one of the organizations is wronged by a competing House, will the Council intervene. But you must be a member. Neither of you qualify."

"What if we joined one of the organizations?"

"You can't, not without Council consent. Just as I can't switch houses without approval. I'm afraid you're stuck, Paris. The best option is for you to run. Leave Kentucky."

There was no way that I could abandon Elizabeth and Caesar. I'd die first.

I reflected upon his words and began to conceive the glimmer of a plan. It might work, but it needed a fallback.

"Forget it Dan, that's not an option, I need to get inside the farmhouse."

We discussed how we would carry out getting to the farm and how we'd enter the house and Dan suggested we use his bed to get some rest so we'd be fresh. He wanted to try the house at a certain hour when the officer guarding it wouldn't be alert.

He promised to give us any information that he found in town and left.

Alex and I shared the narrow bedroom and fell sleep.
Chapter 23

### Back to the Farm

During the early morning, while still dark, we got in the squad car and headed toward the farm.

Dan drove and about a half mile from the house, he let us out along the road.

The full moon provided ample light so we didn't need flashlights.

We moved as silently as possible through a stand of woods adjoining our neighbor's house. We knew from experience that the neighbor had some noisy dogs, and they would start barking if they heard us or smelled us, so we distanced ourselves from the house and traveled deep through the woods.

The detour added about a quarter-mile to our trip. We'd planned for that, but what we hadn't planned for was a new, electrified cow fence strung across our path.

We both knew from painful experience a cow fence delivered a nasty shock.

I knew one way to defeat the fence was to lift it, or push it down, so that someone could crawl under it, or step over it.

I preferred crawling because Alex had slipped once, and the wire had caught me on the scrotum, a sensation I didn't want to repeat again, ever.

I motioned for Alex to look for a good stick, and I removed my t-shirt. She came back with a leafless, dry tree branch that had a fork near its end.

I wrapped the shirt around the end of the branch to insulate it and caught the wire with the forked end propping the wire on the limb.

I shoved the end in the dirt, and we had our crawl space.

I motioned for Alex to go first. She crawled through, and as soon as she was clear, I followed her.

About half way through, the branch broke, and the wire slapped across my back. I saw flashes in my vision and felt every muscle in my back spasm as I sprawled face down in the dirt.

I looked up at Alex. She tried hard to not giggle. Invariably, I was the one who always got jolted from the damn things.

When I recovered sufficiently, I finished crawling through, hugging the dirt, in a rifleman's carry.

As we advanced across the cow pasture, another obstacle barred our way.

During the day, cows wandered through the field in search of succulent clumps of fodder to fill their bellies. As they eliminated the results of their ruminations, organic land mines, commonly called cow-pies, were deposited in random profusion.

In the daylight, you could avoid stepping in the slimy mess, but at night, even with a full moon, slip-ups were inevitable.

Alex possessed a sixth sense when it came to cow-pies, whereas I seemed to step in all of them. I reached the end of the pasture, dirty, smelly, and thoroughly disgusted.

Once across the field, we faced another problem, as in how to get out of it.

Proper cow-fence sneaking procedure was to have a good stick with you, so you could use it on the other side of the fenced field. We'd learned that as kids. Unfortunately, our stick had broken.

After a few shocks on my part and giggles on Alex's part, we finally found our way out and moved to the farmhouse.

Until this moment, our trip had felt like a slapstick comedy, but upon approaching the house our mood became somber.

At the limit of the house's Shadow barrier, several human forms could be observed, hovering as silent sentinels; guarding the approach to the building. I judged they must be Shadows, because they kept their distance from the house.

We'd formed a plan that now seemed too optimistic. Shadows surrounding our goal hadn't been a part of it. It was time to think.

As preteens, we'd developed many clandestine exit and entry points, to and from the house.

We'd planned to use one of these routes to enter the building, but now the presence of the Shadows had demolished our plans.

It required some creative thinking. Dan could only distract the cop guarding the house for a limited time.

We had to find a way in before the officer resumed sweeps of the property.

I motioned to Alex to join me, and we moved back into the woods, out of the Shadow's hearing.

"We can't get in," she whispered to me.

"There might be a way," I whispered back.

"No. You can't be thinking of..."

"It's the only route left."

"Paris, you almost fell the first time and you were a kid then."

"Do you know of any other way?"

"No. But this is dangerous. If the limb breaks..."

I shrugged. "It breaks. So what? We need to enter that house."

We moved around the house to a large oak tree that hovered over the building. I knew if I was able to gain the roof I could enter the attic through one of the louvered portals. At least, I'd done it as a kid. As an adult? Maybe.

One of the tree's branches jutted over the house. As a kid, I had been able to skin along it and then jump to the slanting surface. No longer an adolescent, I was seventy pounds heavier.

I eyed the tall oak tree, and marveled that I'd ever been able to climb it.

It had grown. It seemed more intimidating.

I knew the way up and began using remembered branches as handholds and perches.

After a while, I arrived at the particular limb that extended over the roof.

This was the tricky part. The appendage grew slimmer as you approached the end. My weight would bend it, but how far?

There was only one way to find out. I had to try.

I slithered along the limb, hugging it and crawling along, negotiating leafy obstacles in my path, as I neared the end.

The limb swayed and drooped. I sweated and strained with the effort. Handholds became smaller and more fragile.

The ground below seemed further than I'd remembered. It started to look like a bad idea, but once committed, there was no going back.

The branch groaned under my weight. The house didn't seem to get any closer.

Still I inched along and prayed that it'd hold. The closer to my goal I advanced, the more the branch dipped. It seemed about to drop below the level of the roof and if I moved out any further, I wouldn't be able to reach it.

I considered my few options. If I tried to go back, more than my life was at risk. If I went forward, the chances were slim, but at least they existed.

I moved carefully, inching my legs forward and under my body. My muscles trembled from the effort to maintain my balance and I slid my feet on the branch.

It swayed, threatening to topple me to the ground. I only had one more effort in me. I had to make it count.

I tensed. By now, I had no doubt that some of the Shadows were watching me from the ground in the moonlight, because I'd caused a cascade of leaves and twigs to fall from the tree.

I straightened my legs, abruptly stood on the branch and using it as a springboard, leaped for the roof.

I heard the limb break as I lunged toward the house.

My upper chest and arms slammed on the tiles, and immediately I began to slide off the side.

If I'd managed to avoid attention before, I felt sure now that everyone had heard the crack of the branch and me crashing against the roof.

My legs and most of my body dangled over the edge, and a flash of light came from the front of the house. Nearly out of reserves, my strength failing, I swung my leg up to the gutter at the edge of the roof. My foot caught in the trough, and I paused to gather enough energy for one more effort. Using the leg in the gutter as leverage, I swung my other leg up and rolled onto the tiles.

As I lay there thinking about how close I'd come to dying, I heard voices below and the beam of a flashlight outlined the broken tree branch.

"Just a limb on the tree breaking, Pike. Nothing to worry about."

"I'm going to check the house and grounds anyway, Dan."

"Suit yourself. I'm heading back to the station to sign the roster."

"Thanks for the coffee, Dan."

I lay on the roof recovering, for a long time. The sky began to brighten, and I knew I had to help Alex avoid the Shadows and Officers before daylight.

I didn't know if Pike was still inside the house, but I had to chance it.

The shuttered ports which gave access to the attic were difficult to open and I didn't have any tools. Several broken fingernails later, I had one of the entrances open and stepped into the attic.

I crept slowly down the attic stairs, careful not to step on something that might make noise, and opened the attic door. The house was dark. I made my way downstairs, listening for the sounds of anyone moving.

The house was silent. It'd grown brighter outside and I didn't have much time.

I moved to the living room and removed the log lighter from the fireplace, then back to the kitchen where I briefly lit the lighter in front of the kitchen window.

Through the window, I saw Alex burst from the hide I'd constructed for her.

I rushed to the door and opened it.

Several of the Shadows moved from their positions and angled toward her. Alex ran faster than I had ever seen her run before. The Shadows raced, meaning to cut her off. Her legs pumped harder. As she neared the house, one of the men reached for her, and then fell like a stunned bull. The others soon joined him, and they all crawled back beyond the invisible barrier.

Alex skidded to a halt inside the kitchen door, and collapsed on the floor.

Kirk had given us our medallions when we left the police station. The keys were still in them. I had counted on the Shadows not being able to touch the lockets to keep them safe. We ran to the basement, opened the wine cellar and huddled in the hidden room behind the cellar's wall.

After a while, we could hear the sounds of people moving through the house and the basement. The presence of the wine cellar would be discovered eventually if they continued to search, but I hoped that the room behind it would stay secret, because everything depended upon it.

We wanted to use the bathrooms. Both of us were thirsty and dirty.

After a while the house grew quiet and then we heard someone whistling the tune from a popular musical. It was the signal we'd been waiting for.

We emerged from the basement and greeted Dan in the study.

"Can we use the bathroom?" I said.

He grinned. "Sorry about that. I guess you two have had quite a time, judging from your appearance. Paris, you smell like a cow."

"Don't ask."

"Go ahead. I've got the duty on the house. I don't think anyone will interfere." Dan said.

We gratefully left and rushed for the bathrooms.

After a while, we returned to the study, clean and freshly dressed.

"What about the dirty clothes?" I said and displayed the bundle I carried.

"Put them in a plastic bag. I'll take it with me when I leave. We need to conceal your presence in the house as much as possible."

"The Shadows know. They saw us enter," Alex said.

"That's too bad. – But they can't force the judge to revoke your bail without cause. That would make too many people suspicious. Hopefully, they'll be content just to bottle you up in the house. They may also think you've escaped. The Chief's being controlled by them. He's been letting the Normals search the house. It's illegal, but apparently, they couldn't find you. – Want to tell me why?"

I hesitated. I looked at Alex. She nodded. "We were hiding in the wine cellar."

"Wine cellar? There's a wine cellar in the house?"

"Yes, it's well concealed and locked."

"Care to show me?"

I didn't reply immediately.

"Paris, I can understand that you don't trust anyone now. I suppose I'd feel the same. Your mother was like a sister to me even though we were only cousins. When all this shit started happening, she asked me to come to Kentucky. That was two years ago. I've been watching over the farm and all of you, ever since. The Shadows don't know I'm like you. They just think I'm a clueless cop. They won't suspect that I'm helping you. You need someone to trust. – Trust me."

I considered it. How could I trust him, when I couldn't trust myself? I'd failed to protect everyone I loved. I hadn't been there for Mom and Dad. I'd led Alex into danger and I'd lost the only other people we cared about. Accustomed to controlling my life, I felt helpless.

"Listen, I know something about what your father invented," Dan said. "I know he keyed the shield surrounding this house to allow entrance to only you two, your father, and Jenny. For any Shadow or half Shadow to enter it without pain, they'd have to be blood related." He waited.

I winced. I had to trust him. "It's in the basement."

"Show me."

We led him to the basement and I opened the door to the wine cellar.

Dan looked surprised. "Both of you hid in this?"

"It's a tight fit. You really have to like the one you're with," Alex said.

"If they're allowed to continue searching, they'll find it sooner or later," Dan said. "I think I'm going to talk to some people. They might be able to stop it. The police can only bar your entry for a specific time without a court order. Once they let you back in, they need a warrant to search it again."

He chuckled. "I also think you should get a better lawyer."

"I think we've fired our attorney, though I didn't get a chance to pound him like he deserved. We only need a few days."

"What are you planning, Paris?" Dan said.

"I don't know – yet." I looked at Alex. "We'll think of something."

"Go get some rest. I'll wake you before I leave," Dan said.

"One other thing. Did the police keep the guns?" I said.

"They've been run through analysis and they came out clean. They had no reason to keep them, so they should be here. Don't kill anyone though. You'll land back in jail." He left.

Alex and I stayed in the basement.

"I noticed you stopped short of showing Dan the room," Alex said.

"Sis, I think we can I trust him," I said, "but only so far. He's a member of a Shadow group, so his loyalties may be divided regardless of how he feels about Mom. I don't care how enlightened his Association is, when it comes to what's in this basement, they'll all kill to get it."

"I feel like a criminal," Alex said. "I have to hide from the police in my own home, while the real criminals parade around openly. It seems so hopeless. They've got the law in their pockets, and we're short on allies."

"They haven't won yet. I've come up with an idea. It was something Dan said. It all hinges on me cracking the stuff that Dad left. But I must master it and I need to get the Shadows to talk to me. That's why we're here, Alex, and we don't leave until I've conquered it or died trying."
Chapter 24

### Mind Glow

I closeted myself in the room for the remainder of the day while Alex tried to find comfort in the closet-spaced wine cellar.

We agreed that if someone came sniffing around the door, she'd bolt into the room, regardless of what I was doing. But I needed to concentrate to learn the tasks, and I needed to do it alone.

After the first uncomfortable day, Dan brought sleeping bags and delivered good news. The house would be released to us in two days.

It seemed likely that the charges involving the Rowans would be dropped, because the material witnesses could not be found.

The cops had found the medical supplies that Beth had used along with the syringe, and the law firm had produced documents showing that the money was ours. Since the major felonies were dismissed, bail was a moot item.

Alex was currently on the hook for the traffic violations. It seemed the law firm of Brawley and Higgins had been busy. I still resolved to fire them.

Dan brought take-out food. I gobbled down some hamburgers and after Dan left, resumed my work in the room.

I examined the journals from a new perspective. I needed to move beyond pattern identification, and try to understand how the mental processes worked.

Again, I marveled at the genius of my father. He'd reasoned that the communications link was prevalent in all humans and that it was the Shadow's ability to project patterns through the link that allowed them to accomplish their magic.

He'd also thought that the runes and symbols used by the ancients somehow disrupted the link, rendering them helpless in influencing others. This was the theory behind the shield surrounding the house and the medallion hanging from my neck.

He'd had an advantage that no other researcher possessed. He'd had my mother to experiment with. The thought caused a moment of anger, but then I realized that if Mom had not supported him, she wouldn't have agreed to it. _Let it go_ , I thought.

The results of the PET scan convinced him that magnetic fields could enhance the effect, so Dad had connected the shield to the power in the house. His empirical research seemed to work.

Next, the journals touched upon the experience of finally connecting through the communication link. He'd described the end result as a 'mind glow'. It wasn't something seen as much as experienced. It involved all of the senses, but wasn't physical, experienced only in the mind.

I didn't have a clue as to what it might be, so I filed it away for future thought.

I worked through the earlier exercises, hoping to strengthen my ability to separate illusion from reality.

Convinced it offered the key in attempting the hard tasks, every time I came near to the end; fear of the dangerous effects stopped me. My confidence, shattered by my near-death crisis, could not generate the effort the journals required.

I joined Alex in the wine closet, discouraged. By now, we were both thoroughly depressed.

"I need to get out of here," Alex said.

I closed my eyes and leaned back against the door.

"Did you hear me, Paris? I need to get out of here."

"Another day, Alex."

"I'm so angry and depressed I want to kill something," she said.

"You'll get your chance if I have the guts to do want I need to do."

"It's funny. I always thought you were the bravest person I ever knew."

I thought about it. I'd faced many life or death situations; so why be afraid of this?

What people called courage was really a conscious effort to control your fear and act for the safety of your family or friends. Anything else spelled foolish bravado.

Most of the time in Iraq, I hadn't been thinking of my safety, at least my bodily safety. I'd been thinking of what would happen to others if I let my fears stop me short of my objective.

So, what was different? What paralyzed me?

Then it hit me. I wasn't worried about my body; I was in terror of losing my mind.

I rose from the floor. "I've got to go back in there. But before I do, I have to tell you what I plan and what you need to do if it doesn't work. I won't be coming out of that room if I don't succeed."

* * *

Voices echoed in the basement as I emerged from the room. Alex and Dan stopped talking. She had a relieved expression as she saw me step into the basement. Dan's eyes narrowed and he studied me intently.

Something about my look alarmed Alex, and she said, "Are you alright Paris?"

I wasn't sure what I was, but 'alright' wouldn't fit.

I ignored her question.

For some time, I'd been opening my senses, trying to experience the 'mind glow' and had finally succeeded.

Now I stared at my sister, mesmerized by the glory of her mind.

It seethed with impossible colors, sounds and tastes. I knew I didn't see her mind but experienced it. The impossible combination nearly overwhelmed me so I pulled my senses back, and snapped once again to reality.

I shook my head. "What's the status with the house?"

"I drove Alexandra's truck," Dan said. "It's parked out front and I've removed the police tape. The place is all yours. Also, I told the Chief I was picking you up to bring you to the house, so you're free to move around. As far as the police know, you were never here. What do you plan to do?"

"Get out of this mess," I said.

Dan's eyes widened. "Very well. Do you need my help?"

"Maybe...yes. I need you to pick up some items and bring them back here. Then I need you to park Alex's truck about a mile down the road. Can you get one of the officers to drive you back to the police station?"

He looked apprehensive. "Sure – What're you planning, Paris?"

"It's better you don't know."

"Can I help?" he asked.

"No, if we succeed, I'll be sure to see you. If we don't..." I shrugged.

I walked to the living room and looked out the window. Alex and Dan followed me. "They're still here," I said.

"They've surrounded the house," Alex said.

"No matter. Dan should be able to leave without trouble. – Right?" I watched him.

"Right – you two be careful. I'd never forgive myself – I failed Jenny. I don't want to fail you."

"Whatever happens, Dan, it's not you're fault."

He left.

"Did you..?" Alex said

"Yes... and more," I replied.

Her eyes widened. "Define more."

"Later, I have to leave. I'll fill you in when I get back."

* * *

After picking up Alex's truck from the place Dan had parked it, I drove to the Bowman farm and slipped along the wooded area and past the Shadows that guarded the house.

Prowling around the perimeter of the house, I found an unlocked window and crawled inside.

I moved through the house, searching, until I found my quarry in the dining room.

"Good afternoon, Tony," I said.

He startled. "How did you get in here?"

I laughed. "I was in the Army Rangers. I know how to get into places."

He hesitated. "You know, that medallion around your neck is no protection from me. I could render you a vegetable without raising a sweat."

"Maybe, but I took the chance that you would talk first," I said.

Tony looked around the room, but we were the only two people there. "If you've come to seek my help, I must disappoint you, I cannot help you."

"I understand, but I have a different purpose in my visit."

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what might that be?"

"I finally came to the realization that if you can't beat them, join them. I've come to offer a compromise. One you may be able to accept."

He seemed amused. "I have to credit you with audacity. What do you have in mind?"

"I want to join the People on an equal basis. I want to become a House, with my sister and my friends as members."

"I'm sorry I must decline, that would require an Adept and you don't qualify."

"No?" I opened my senses and allowed him to experience my mind glow.

His eyes widened, surprised. "So...you were able to use your father's work. This does change things."

"All I want is to have an equal chance. I'll do whatever is required," I said.

"I could just immobilize you and solve the whole issue," Tony said.

"Yes, you might, but I've made arrangements. If I don't return to the farmhouse, my father's journals will be broadcast to the Internet and the Government. I don't think that would be in the long-term interest of the People."

Tony rubbed his forehead with his fingers. "You don't know what you're asking. There are requirements when an Adept becomes the head of a house. One is that disputes between houses are settled by a duel between the Adepts. You can't survive against Luca."

"Luca?" I said.

"He's the Adept that started this whole rotten affair," Tony said. "He was the one responsible for the breeding experiment and he's ambitious. He holds your friends as hostage. If I do this, I'll need time to make the Council aware of your new status and it would be easier if you agreed to turn over all of your father's research."

"I can agree to that."

"Next, you'll have to undergo an imprinting."

"What is that?"

"It's a pattern," Tony said, "one that compels you to obey the Council rules. All House Adepts are imprinted."

"How does that affect me?" I said.

"You'll be compelled to obey the Council and follow the rules for relationships between Houses. We made that a requirement when we formed the Council."

"What if I don't know the rules?" I asked.

His look grew grim. "Learn them. I'll help, but I think the effort is pointless. Luca will kill you or leave you as a vegetable. Some on the Council may oppose your petition because you and your sister are too valuable to the People."

"I won't live as a slave with the Borgias, I'd rather die."

"What about your sister? Have you thought of her?"

I glowered at him. "She feels the same. You'd lose both of us. I'm offering you the best compromise I can. I'm not afraid of Luca."

Tony snorted. "Then you're a fool, because you should be. Understand, in a duel you won't be able to use physical weapons. You'll have to overcome him with your mind. The imprinting will force you to obey that rule. I can sense that you may become powerful, but you lack experience. You won't be able to use the medallions and that lack will kill you. In the end, you'll be dead, and the Borgias will still take your sister."

I started to lose confidence. If the Council agreed, and I was imprinted, it would remove one of the weapons I'd counted on. But what choice did I have? I thought I might have a fragile chance, but it was better than none. I gathered what courage remained to me, resigned to try.

"I've made my choice, will the Council agree?"

"Maybe. Many of the members fear the Borgias and their ambitions. I'll try. If I don't succeed, you'll be on your own. If I do, I'll come with you to enforce the rules. Let me make some calls."

* * *

Later that evening, Alex and I sat in the living room, waiting for a phone call I feared would never come.

She sat on the couch and looked anxious.

"Are you sure he agreed to do it?" Alex asked.

"Yes. It took a while to convince him."

"Then why haven't they called?"

We were startled by the ring of the phone. "Don't answer it yet," I said.

I waited until it had rung three times, picked it up and said calmly, "Fox residence."

"You know why I'm calling slave. Consider yourself fortunate."

I conjured a vision of his arrogant face during the confrontation at the farm.

"Cut the attitude, Luca. I know who you are." I heard his breath hiss over the phone. "You want what I've got. – I'm willing to trade. My friends for my father's work. – That's the deal."

Luca's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Maybe I don't care. The female is a delectable piece. Maybe I'll keep her as my concubine. The muscle and the invalid will have to go though. I've no more room in my stables."

I ignored the threat. "I don't think the Houses will be happy, not to mention the Council. In addition, I'll hunt you down. Whatever it takes. If you harm the Rowans, you won't be able to venture from your house, let alone your stable and I'll make damn sure your death is slow and nasty."

"I don't recognize threats from my slaves. – Very well, where do we meet?"

"First, I want to talk to Elizabeth," I said.

"Why should I agree to that?" he asked.

"I want to assure myself they're alive and unharmed. Elizabeth will know how to get to the meeting place. The items are there. You'll not be able to find it if she doesn't lead you. If they are harmed in any way, you die. If you come to the meeting place without them, I'll kill you immediately. Put her on the phone."

The phone went silent for a while.

I waited, tense, every muscle in my body tight.

I nearly lost control when Elizabeth's voice came on the line. "Paris, they won't let us leave. They said they were putting us in protective custody, but I know they're not police."

"I know." My voice was hoarse. "Listen, sweetheart. We're meeting for a trade. The meeting place is where the deer went. Do you understand?"

"I understand. Where the deer went."

"I'll be with you soon."

Luca's voice came back on the line. "What time, slave?"

"First, I want you to take Edward back to his house. If I don't deliver the material, you can always pick him up again. Come with Beth and Caesar. You may think you can force Beth to tell you where it is. She can't. Even if she told you, you'd never find it. She can only lead you to it."

He remained silent for a moment. "Very well. Just make sure you have the material there."

I named a time two hours later while it would still be daylight, and I ended the call.

"It's arranged?" Alex said.

"Yes, at the clearing," I said.

"Good choice," Alex said."– Do you think we have a chance?

"Yes, Better than we had before. Be prepared. Do you remember what you're supposed to do?"

She swallowed and nodded. "I love you, Brother."

I couldn't reply for a moment. "I love you, Sister. – Let's go."
Chapter 25

### Shadow Games

Alex and I hid near the clearing, some distance along the trail, out of direct sight.

At this time of year, the sun lingered longer. Daylight bathed the woods at a later hour. Quiet invaded the forest as though life had ceased its daytime labors and rested.

I felt the familiar pre-mission awareness I'd felt in the Army.

Little things captured my attention, the bark of a tree, the shape of a leaf, the sunlight peeking through the leaves and patterning the forest floor. All of these small things seemed more significant, immediate, and full of meaning.

Death might lie in the future, but the fear of death ruled life and always hovered. If death waited, my mind needed those last-minute sights and sounds to carry into oblivion.

"Someone's coming," Alex whispered.

I stared through the foliage down the trail, tensed and ready to move, the Glock aimed at the area.

A small figure appeared; she led a group of four more people.

Elizabeth.

My tension eased and I slid the gun into its holster.

The group hesitated at the entrance to the clearing. In addition to Elizabeth, I recognized Caesar and Luca. Two other men guarded them.

Luca gestured to one of the men. He nodded to Beth. She disappeared into the foliage, and the man followed her. After a while, the man emerged without her. He spoke to Luca, who appeared annoyed. He led the remainder of the group into the deep woods.

I motioned for Alex to wait. We crouched along the trail until I felt that enough time had passed, then stood and walked toward the clearing entrance.

We eventually emerged in the clearing and stopped at its edge. Alex remained at the top-tier of the amphitheater, while I walked down toward the group.

"Stop there, slave," Luca said.

I halted as though acting like a puppet.

"Remove the weapon and put it on the rocks."

I complied silently.

"Give me the material."

I appeared to struggle. "First let them leave."

"Oh slave, you really didn't think I would allow them to escape me, did you? I have them. I have you, and you'll give me the ability to become the most powerful Adept in the whole world. Give it to me. – Now!"

I didn't move.

To my right, a figure stepped into the clearing. Luca's eyes widened as he recognized the intruder.

"Anthony. What are you doing here? This isn't Council business, you have no right –"

"You're wrong, Luca. This is Council business. I'm here to insure that negotiations between Houses are conducted with respect."

"Between Houses? These Normals are not..." His eyes grew wider.

I smiled. I'd been studying his mind-glow since entering the clearing. Dad's instructions had been very clear concerning that aspect of the talent. I sensed enormous power behind it and prepared myself.

Luca's mind surged, assaulting me.

My brain felt like a palm tree bending and slashed by a hurricane. Although my body stood still, my mind staggered.

I'd worked for hours in that claustrophobic room at the farm, training myself for this moment. I now knew I was completely unprepared for this.

Using mind discipline, I resisted his assault with all my willpower. He looked surprised, and increased the strength of his attack.

I could feel the beginning of the unwinding of the conscious connections that defined me, like a million fingers ripping apart my brain. With my last reserves, I mentally grappled with him, preventing him from completing his efforts.

His eyes narrowed. Now I knew I had his full attention. It would be a matter of seconds before he crushed my mind.

He increased the pressure. I had to hold him until I knew the time was right. I could feel my mind unraveling. I held onto my pattern. I felt him shift his focus away from Alex, loosening his control of her.

"Now, Alex!"

A series of explosions echoed around the clearing and through the forest.

I sensed Alex standing in an aiming stance. Gun smoke trickled from the barrel of her Ruger.

I could see that three of the shots had hit Luca, none of them particularly fatal. But the force of the bullets had propelled him to the edge, and over. He screamed on the way down. The sudden stop at the foot of the cliff would likely complete the job.

I shifted my attention to the other two men, freezing them where they stood. Elizabeth and Caesar moved. They appeared to be disoriented, as though waking from a trance. I beckoned to them, and they moved carefully away from the edge of the cliff to finally stand beside us. I put my arm around Elizabeth and hugged her.

"The worst is over now, sweetheart, you're safe," I said.

Alex crouched still frozen, the gun held in her hands. Caesar removed it gently from her grip. She slumped and huddled into his chest.

Tony walked over to me. "Technically, Mister Fox, you violated Council protocols," Tony said. "But I guess we can overlook this one time, since the perpetrator was a novice. Please instruct the members of your group in proper procedures when dealing with the People."

I nodded and smiled.

He returned the smile, and then became more serious. "I believe, sir, we have an agreement?" I nodded again and walked over to the small stream of water that issued from the side of the clearing. I reached in the little pool and removed a flat rock. I retrieved the waterproofed package under it, and returned to him. I hesitated. "Is it Under Council protection?"

"Yes," he replied

"Is it all over?" I said.

"For now. There are still some issues to be decided."

I handed the package to him.

"Is this all of it?" he asked.

"All of Dad's research is there. The papers, we burned. You can send someone to examine the ashes if you wish."

"And your oath?"

"We are of the People. The secret will remain with the People."

He looked at me for a moment. He let me feel his mind-glow. I knew then, I'd never want to make him angry. "Very well. We'll be in touch."

He left the four of us standing, holding each other, in the clearing.
Epilogue

It was a party and we all grouped in the living room. Summer had arrived, the door propped open to allow the evening breeze to cool the house.

Alex and Caesar sat together in the overstuffed easy chair, Alex cuddled on his lap.

Beth and I relaxed on the couch, while Edward and Dan Simmons occupied chairs brought in from the study.

All of us sipped wine purloined from the wine cellar.

"I'm sill not comfortable with the idea of joining the Shadows," Edward said.

"People, Edward, they call themselves the People. Get used to it, or this could start all over again," I said. "You all need to learn how to interact with them. We're a Family now, and we're governed by the Council rules. I cannot oppose the Council. They'd crush us."

"That's another thing," Dan said. "Most of the People are grouped in Houses, so how did you become a 'Family'?"

"I insisted on it. The name of the group is not important. I wanted to be a family, so 'Family' it is." I smiled. "It makes me happy."

"You managed to accomplish a lot in a short period of time," Dan said. "One thing I still don't understand is how you were able to pass that cordon of Shadows that surrounded the farm house?"

"I was Army Rangers, Dan."

He didn't reply. I suspected he remained skeptical.

"So – you're the Family Adept," Edward said.

"I am. It was something Dan said. A House, Association or now, – Family, must have an Adept leading it to be legitimate. As I am now an Adept, I am the Family head."

"You do seem different, but you're still the complex, frequently surprising man I fell in love with," Beth said and kissed me.

I smiled. "Appearances can be deceptive, darling. I've entered a new reality. I can never go back. Maybe some of you will join me."

"Sweetheart, how can I completely believe this, when I still have doubts about invisible people?" Elizabeth said.

"Maybe this will convince you." I let my mind-glow taste her senses. After a while, she started flushing and breathing heavily.

"Paris, stop that!" she said.

I grinned, "I was saving it for our wedding night."

"I don't think so – too much of that will stop my heart." She smiled. "–Well...maybe just a little."

"Oh good! Will you teach me Paris?" Alex said.

"You'd better not," Caesar warned.

We all laughed.

Beth and I stepped out into the evening. We walked away from the house and stood close together, watching the stars.

"I still don't understand why we were drawn to the clearing on the day we met," she said. "There's something strange about that."

"Maybe someday..." I said, and glanced at Edward's form reflecting through the front window. "For now, we'll let it remain a mystery."

"There's something else. You've changed. I can feel it. –And I sensed you were being evasive when Dan asked about how you managed to leave the farm house without being caught. Care to enlighten me?" Beth said.

"Darling, I believe the world and the universe that contains it is much stranger than we can imagine," I said and gestured at the stars. "They may be filled with infinite unknowns."

I turned to gaze into her amethyst eyes. "But I believe courage, intelligence, and love, especially love, will help us confront the unknown and maybe transcend it. We are all more than we think.–I suspect, down deep inside, we all know this.

"But...to answer your question. – Alexandra knows, and Caesar will know soon. It must remain a Family secret. Something strange happened when I finally came into my powers.

"Dad said that experiencing someone's mind was like a 'mind glow', but it's more than that. If you could sense it as I do...Well, it's more beautiful than you can imagine.

"Anyway, the mind contains patterns. With practice, I can learn to discern those patterns, and impose my own pattern over them. But I found I couldn't sense the pattern of me – my pattern, in the minds of normal humans.

"However, when it came to Shadows, I was easily able to find the pattern of me in their minds, and I could impose my pattern over theirs. It's difficult to explain, but just as you can't see the Shadows," I grinned at her, "whenever I will it...the Shadows can't see me."

~~~~~~

The End
Shadow Spies, the sequel to Shadow Games is available for purchase on this site. Check out other eBooks by Doug Welch.

Shadow Series:

Shadow Games

Shadow Spies

Shadow Twins

Shadow Reflections

Stand alone novels and short stories:

Reality Plague

Sail Beyond Tomorrow

Dear Collaborator

Mystery/Detective Series:

Cheyenne Jackson – The case of the Hanged Harlot

**Read on for an excerpt from** Shadow Spies **.**

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### About the Author

One day, I found I was without reading material.

Being a readoholic, the situation was intolerable. I've read countless novels, text books, and cereal boxes in my lifetime and I couldn't find anything to read.

I'd browsed the library, shopped the bookstores, internet stores, and my favorite free sites, looking for something to feed my voracious appetite for books. Nothing interested me.

And then, I had an inspiration. If I couldn't find anything suitable to read, I'd have to write it myself. However, it would have to be something that I wanted to read, something that satisfied my thirst for adventure and wonder, something that made me cry, laugh, and feel love.

The result is the book you have just read and (hopefully) enjoyed.

Like many people, I'd always felt compelled to write a book, but like most, life got in the way. I never thought I could actually complete it, but I did, and it was a fantastic experience. I'm really having fun. So much fun, I wrote three more as part of a series.

However, I admit it, I was an amateur. (I've since gained experience). The first draft was trash, and so were the second and the third. I have to thank my mother-in-law Ginni, and my wife, Kitty, for their excellent insight. (Annoying as it may be, to find out that I am not perfect, and make many, many stupid mistakes.)

My wife actually encouraged me to complete this and was tolerant of my bad temper when I became impatient with interruptions. (What a wonderful woman!)

Anyway, thank you for downloading the book and reading it. Please take the time to rate it and comment on it.
Shadow Spies

By Doug Welch

Smashwords Edition

Edited by P. A. Watkins

* * * *

Copyright © 2011 Douglas R. Welch

This book is a work of fiction. With the sole exception of certain historical figures: Characters, character's names and incidents are a product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Although some scenes in this novel occur during actual historical periods, all references to the actions of The British Embassy in Tehran or the British Intelligence Services are wholly contrived by the author and are fiction. Nothing in this novel may be construed as reflecting the actions of the Government of the United Kingdom before, during or after the Iranian Revolution and subsequent Crisis.

Caution: contains language and scenes not suitable for young children.
Shadoe exited the United Nations Security Council building, walked down the path toward the UN Gardens and lit a cigarette. He mentally cursed the ban on smoking indoors, while drawing the surge of nicotine into his lungs. _Oh well, it gives me an excuse to be here. Now, where's my bloody contact?_

Although Shadoe was not his given name, he allowed no one to know that, he'd found it accidentally and loved the sound of it. Once having savored the irony of the name, he'd found it palatable, although many of his intelligence assets hated it.

Scanning the grounds, he spotted a dark figure standing under the shade of a tree, also smoking a cigarette. He strolled down the path toward him.

The figure resolved itself into a short husky man who, upon spying Shadoe, hurriedly dropped the unfinished smoke and crushed it under his heel.

"It's about time you got here. Do you know how many of these damn things I've been puffing on? Damn things will kill you!"

Shadoe chuckled. "Dying is inevitable, Max. At least I'll know my killer."

Max looked away, gazing at the East River. "What do you want with me, Shadoe?"

Shadoe turned and followed his gaze, drawing again on his cigarette.

"I need you to assemble a team from our resources. They must all be American citizens, no foreign nationals, equipped with top of the line surveillance equipment, bugs, IR scanners, the works. I'll provide you with a list later."

Max nodded. "And the objective?"

"One of our retired assets began feeding us some very interesting information, I'd say critical information, about a year and a half ago, but he suddenly stopped reporting and went silent."

Shadoe drew some photographs from his breast pocket. "It involves these two people."

Max examined the photos and whistled. "They look remarkably alike."

"Extraordinary, isn't it? They're fraternal twins, brother and sister. What's more surprising is they may hold the key to the resolution of this entire conflict."

Max handed the pictures back with evident distaste clouding his face. "We normally don't involve civilians in this."

Shadoe hissed his reply. "This is a war unlike any war the world's ever seen, Max. It's a war for the survival of the human species, and wars cause collateral damage. I know things about the informant that may limit the damage but no promises. You just obey your orders and assemble the team. I'll take it from there."

Max hesitated and then shrugged. "Your call. How can I contact you?"

Shadoe smiled. "Not here. I'm leaving – taking a trip. I'll call you."

Max raised his eyebrows. "Oh? – Where're you going?"

"A very small town...in the middle of Kentucky."

Shadoe flipped the cigarette butt into the grass, and walked back to the building.
