

### Perpetual Motion

By Lari Smythe

Cover design by Lari Smythe

Cover Art by Caitlin Smith

Copyright 2014 Lari Smythe

ISBN: 9781311098573

Published by Lari Smythe at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. The ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com, or your favorite online ebook store, and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Discover other books by Lari Smythe at Smashwords.com

Lari's books are also available in print at most online retailers.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Connect with the Author

### Chapter 1

Eddie shivered as yet another band of sleet pelted his face. He looked across the roof of the limo, where a few yards away, the canvas pergola covering his mother's grave strained at its anchor ropes in the icy wind. It was a day made for funerals, damp and cold even for November in Maryland; the kind of day that punctuates the finality of death and drives the mourners back to the warm confines of the living. Caitlin and Peter were already waiting in the car, but Josh, their father, lingered at the gravesite. Betty's sudden death seemed to age him ten years. His Greek fisherman's cap and dark coat only added to his fragile appearance. With tear filled eyes, Caitlin leaned across Peter and looked up at Eddie.

"I know," Eddie said before she could speak. "Dad! Dad, we have to go." At the bottom of the gravel drive, the last car of attendees pulled out of the cemetery. "Come on Dad."

"Men!" Caitlin huffed as she climbed out the other side of the car. "Grief is not a disease, Eddie. It's not freakin' contagious." She stomped off through the mud toward Josh.

"Close the damn door," Peter griped, "it's freezing."

Eddie slid down into the car and closed the door as Caitlin reached Josh. She wrapped him in her arms.

"What's taking so long?" Peter mumbled.

"Dad's not ready." Eddie leaned forward and watched his sister and father console each other. He glanced over at Peter, but they both looked away when they made momentary eye contact. Caitlin was right, grief was not an emotion men shared easily. There were a few minutes of awkwardness until Caitlin appeared at the car door with Josh. She helped him onto the front seat, closed the door and then climbed in the back with her brothers. "Home James," Eddie said to the driver as she slammed the rear door. Only the crunch of gravel under the tires and then the whir as they speed over the pavement broke the silence, until they reached the southbound ramp to Route 29.

"How many are coming?" Josh asked. "Do we have enough food? Maybe we should stop—"

"It's okay Daddy." Caitlin leaned forward and patted his shoulder. "Everything's taken care of."

"Of course it is." Josh nodded. "Missy saw to it." Missy had always been his nickname for Caitlin. The rest of the ride was silent except for Caitlin's sobbing.

Once home, Peter made a beeline for the downstairs bathroom, as Eddie headed upstairs. The cold could do that, and certainly, after spending winters at school in South Carolina, neither was used to the cold. When Eddie returned, Caitlin was in the kitchen getting the food out of the refrigerator, but Josh was no where to be seen. "Where's Dad?"

"He was right behind me," Caitlin said, setting a platter on the kitchen counter. "Maybe he's in the living room."

"Right, I'm standing in the foyer and I wouldn't see him."

Caitlin spun on a heel and wiped a tear. "You want to do this while I look?"

"Tsk." Eddie mimicked Caitlin's annoying, little head bob, zigzagging his hand in front of his face and snapped his fingers. He got the _whatever_ reaction from her he expected. He glanced around the living room once more, then opened the front door. Josh was standing in the driveway alone and seemed to be watching the limo as it pulled out of the driveway. "Did we pay the limo driver?" Eddie called back to Caitlin.

"I think so, why?"

"Nothing." When Eddie looked back, Josh was on his way up the front steps. Eddie held the door.

"I was just remembering all the times your mother and I watched one of you kids head off in a limo, you know, proms and such." Josh took off his coat, draped it over the railing and set his hat on top of the post.

"You up for this Dad?"

"Does it matter?"

There was a knock at the door. Eddie opened it and greeted Mrs. Peterson, starting a steady stream of guests arriving to pay their respects, and eat. Within half an hour, the house was full of friends and relatives.

When Eddie noticed the streetlight out front come on, he realized he hadn't seen Josh in a while. He found him where he expected, in his easy chair in the family room and tapped his foot. "What's up?"

"Not much." Josh dropped the recliner and sat up. "It's funny you know. I don't imagine I'll ever see most of these people again."

"Why's that?"

"They're not my friends. I mean, they're you kids and your mother's. Can't say they're really mine. Suppose there was never time."

"What about Brian from up the street? He used to come over and hangout with you out in the garage."

"You're right, I see him maybe twice a year." Josh's tone was sarcastic, a trait Eddie had inherited. "I haven't seen Peter in a while. He was closest to your mother, maybe I should check on him."

"The bookworm went upstairs." Eddie said. "He's got a big exam when we get back."

"He still carrying a 4.0? It's not good you know, he needs to get out more, socialize. He's not like you and Caitlin."

"Tell me about it. Hold your bladder, I'll go rattle his cage." Eddie got up and started toward the stairs, but stopped and turned back. "About having no friends, what about Sarah?"

"Right, Sarah. She's what, a thousand miles from here?"

Eddie caught Caitlin's glare when she apparently heard the name and let it go. Besides, the more you pushed, the more Josh pushed back even if it went against what he wanted. It was a trait the kids had learned to manipulate during their childhoods. Of course, most of the time Josh got around it by differing to their mother.

Half an hour after the food was gone, Eddie retrieved the last two coats and said goodbye to the Mitchells. Mrs. Peterson was the only one left and she was helping Caitlin in the kitchen.

* * *

"Where does your mother keep the containers?" Mrs. Peterson asked.

"They're in the cabinet next to the frig, second shelf." Caitlin said.

Mrs. Peterson got a plastic container and joined Caitlin at the sink. "It was quite a shock, your mother wasn't even fifty was she?"

"No ma'am, forty-three."

"Lydia said it was a heart attack."

"No ma'am, she had high blood pressure and the doctors' surmise it was a stroke."

"Surmise? That doesn't sound very convincing. You know Lydia had an aunt that died because of a misdiagnoses. There're a lot of quacks out there these days you know."

"I don't think—"

"I just thought maybe you should speak with a lawyer." Mrs. Peterson put the container with the remnants of the macaroni and cheese in the refrigerator and then grabbed a dishtowel off the handle of the stove. "Are you at Clemson now?"

"Yes ma'am, all three of us."

"Really, I thought Eddie graduated high school with Michelle?"

"He decided to stay for grad school."

"How odd."

"Odd?"

"He was quite a terror as a little boy, I would've never picked him for grad school. Well, I should be getting along. When do you all have to go back?"

"We have a flight tomorrow." Caitlin was obviously tired and had successfully coaxed Mrs. Peterson into the foyer.

"So soon?"

Caitlin helped Mrs. Peterson with her coat. "Be careful, the temperature is dropping; it might be slick."

"Thank you dear. Tell your father to call if he needs anything."

"I will."

"Well, goodnight."

Caitlin closed the door and sighed. It had been a long day. She checked on Josh, who was sleeping in his easy chair, and then headed upstairs to change. Peter flagged her down as she passed his room. "Whatever it is will have to wait until I get out of these pantyhose." Caitlin said in passing.

Peter turned to Eddie. "She seems like her bitchy self."

"I didn't see you down there helping," Eddie shot back.

"It's not my job, besides, I have to nail this next test or I'm going to get stuck with a 'B' in statistics."

"Right, that 4.0 is more important."

"What's up?" Caitlin said as she plopped down on the old beanbag chair next to the television. "Jeez Peter, like don't you do anything else but study and play video games."

"Duh, what's your GPA?"

"3.72."

"Oh right," Peter came back, "in what, finger painting?"

"Grow up you two," Eddie cut in, "or I'll pound you."

Caitlin flopped back in the chair in a huff.

"What the hell!" Peter complained as Eddie punched the remote and the television went off in the middle of the sports broadcast.

"We need to discuss Dad. Is he still downstairs?"

"Yeah," Caitlin replied, "he's asleep in that crusty, old chair."

"Good," Eddie said, kicking the door partially closed. "We need to figure out what we're going to do with him."

"Do with him?" Caitlin gawked. "You make him sound like a commodity."

"Oooh, commodity," Peter mocked, "is that a 3.72 word?"

Caitlin smirked and flipped him the finger.

"You know what I mean," Eddie said, "Mom did everything, Dad's clueless—"

"How can you say that?" Caitlin said.

"How?" Peter answered. "It's easy. He told me last summer he's never used an ATM. Sound like he's ready to manage expenses? I just don't get the whole 'artsy-fartsy' thing."

"Just because we're creative doesn't mean we're morons. I'm sure he'll do just fine."

"Like you're handling college expenses so well, little miss 3.72." Peter taunted.

"Knock it off!" Eddie shouted. Plans needed to be made, and as the oldest, the responsibility fell squarely on his shoulders, but this was turning into another sibling squabble. Both Peter and Caitlin slumped back looking quite irritated. Caitlin had that searing, female 'You'll burn in hell' glare, and Peter his defiant 'I don't give a crap what you think' grin. "All right children, this is the way it's going to be. Obviously we can't do much before we leave tomorrow, but I'll check with Dad to make sure he knows what bills have to be taken care of and when. Hopefully I can get him to run everything by me."

"Why does it always have to be you?" Caitlin groaned. "Cause you're the oldest?"

"Yeah," Eddie snapped, tired of the bickering, "I'm going to take him for everything and leave the two of you out in the cold."

Caitlin scoured and folded her arms across her chest in anger, but couldn't keep a tear from running down her cheek.

"You better hurry," Peter added, "before he burns down the freakin' house and everything in it."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Eddie said.

"When I took out the trash, I noticed a big soot mark up the wall in the garage."

"Who said Dad did it?" Caitlin said, obviously still fuming. "Maybe it's from one of Eddie's old projects."

"Right." Eddie replied. He got up from the foot of the bed and glanced at his watch. "It's late and we've got an early flight."

"Fine," Caitlin said. "It's the same old same old, we discuss stuff and then you do everything." She stomped out of the room.

Eddie followed her to the door, but turned back when he heard the television click on. "If you're going to maintain that 4.0, you better lay off the video games." He was surprised to see Caitlin waiting outside her room as he started down the hall. "Problem?"

"I'm sorry," she started, "it's just I'm worried about him."

Eddie wrapped his arms around her and gave her a hug, trying to conceal his awkwardness. "Don't worry, I'll handle it. Best thing you can do is call him once in a while. After all, you're his favorite."

"Me? Are you kidding, you're number one son."

"Nah, you two have that father daughter thing going. You've got to help me keep an eye on Peter too."

"Peter?"

"Yeah," Eddie said, stepping back. "Peter was the closest to Mom. I think his anger is this whole thing boiling up inside him. We can't let that get out of control."

Caitlin rose up on her toes and gave Eddie a kiss on the cheek. "I will. What about Dad? Should we just leave him downstairs?"

"He'll be fine, he's used to sleeping through NASCAR races in that old chair. Listen," Eddie said, grabbing his crotch, "I gotta pee."

"Ah! You can be so crude."

Eddie gave her a wink and headed for the bathroom across from Peter's room. When he came out, Caitlin was sitting on the bed next to Peter talking. Eddie went to his room, closed the door and stretched out. It had been a tough day. He'd managed to stay strong, but a tear found its way down his temple and disappeared into his sideburn.

* * *

Eddie woke up staring at the ceiling though a red halo. He'd forgotten how bright his old, digital alarm clock was. He rolled over and glanced at the crimson numerals. It was one o'clock in the morning. The soot mark in the garage kept going through his thoughts; so unable to get back to sleep, he finally got up. At the end of the upstairs hall, the master bedroom door was closed, and sure enough, when he got downstairs Josh was no longer in his chair. Eddie flipped on the florescent lights in the garage, and opened the door. The first thing he noticed was the Ninja Turtle bed sheets covering the 1931 Ford coupe. Odd, he thought, stepping into the chilly garage, it's on mom's side. She would let Dad use the entire garage during the summer, but when the first frost came, she wanted her car inside. The right side, where the 31 usually sat, was cluttered with junk around a workbench situated in the middle of the bay. "Damn!" Eddie groaned as he stubbed his toe, headed for the bench. He sat down on the stool and turned toward the back of the garage. His grandfather's old Sears lawn tractor was pushed up against the door in about the same shape it seemed it had always been in. Josh liked to tinker, but he was cheap when it came to his things, and they always seemed to stall when it came to spending money. Of course, he also put everyone else's projects ahead of his. Behind the tractor sat what looked like the carcasses of three microwave ovens. They were something new. "Hey now," Eddie said as he flipped on the light over the bench and spotted the lathe against the wall. "Talk about something new, wonder when he got this?"

"A couple months ago."

"Jeez Dad," Eddie said, spotting Josh at the door. "You scared the crap out of me."

"Thought I heard someone down here. We had some good times out here didn't we?"

"Sure did. I see you still have my old mini-bike."

"Yeah, not much gets thrown away. Besides, maybe one day I'll have some grandkids that can have some fun with it."

While Josh made his way over to the bench, Eddie scanned the cluttered top. There was a carburetor that had been cut apart, a few miscellaneous electrical parts and an object about the size of a football in the center covered with a rag. To the left, a similarly shaped wooden object, obviously scorched. That must be what put the soot on the wall, Eddie thought. "So Dad," Eddie said, reaching for the rag covered object, "what's—"

Josh turned Eddie's stool toward the lathe. "Couldn't justify a metal one with college tuition and all." Josh patted Eddie on the back. "Remember when we dropped that crate motor in your 85 Monte?"

"You kiddin', that was my first; a damn fast car." It was obvious Josh didn't want Eddie to see what was under the rag, but why? His Dad was usually quite talkative about his projects. It was how he brainstormed ideas. Eddie turned back toward the bench and noticed Josh glance down at the object before pulling a modified lawnmower out from under the bench.

"Remember this?"

Eddie stooped down next to Josh. "Sure, I remember this from when I used to cut the grass."

"Pretty good memory seeing how you maybe cut the grass twice."

"What's all this?" Eddie asked, motioning to the engine. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Got it out of your mother's old microwave."

"I thought the one in the kitchen looked new. How'd she talk you into that?"

"She didn't, exactly. I found a website where some college kids claimed they built a lawnmower that ran on water converted to steam with microwaves."

"Dad, that stuff's dangerous—"

"Let me finish." Josh groaned as he stood up. "The old knees won't let me stoop down like that for long. Anyway, I had this old mower sitting around so I figured I'd give it a shot. The website had a little blurb about if you didn't believe you could flash water vapor into steam, try this. So, I vented your old vaporizer into the microwave for a few seconds, closed the door and hit start. Boom! Damn near blew the door completely off. Well, your mother came running, ranting like she always did. I told her I was heating up a solution to degrease the tractor. She hated that old tractor."

"You should run that kind of stuff by me first, you could have gotten hurt."

"Well anyway, I was convinced so I figured what the heck."

"And?"

"It kind of works.

"How much did 'kind of' cost?"

Josh shrugged. "Maybe fifty bucks. I could never get the mixture right, and the damn magnetrons keep burning up."

"Microwaves can be pretty dangerous Dad, did you—"

"Burned my arm once, didn't even realize it. Your mother was furious, but I said I got it up against the tractor muffler. She hated that old tractor."

Eddie stooped back down to examine the modifications. Josh had used part of a propane canister as a reservoir, the piezo chip from a vaporizer to generate water vapor, and the venturi from the original carburetor to direct it into the engine. He looked up at Josh. "So you said it sort of works?"

"Yeah, I just replaced the magnetron before—want to see?"

"Sure."

Josh poured a cup of distilled water in the propane canister, connected the magnetron to a car battery and gave the pull cord a few tugs. "It takes a bit sometimes. I'm not sure if this magnetron is the same power either." Josh blew into the carburetor a few times and gave it another pull. This time there were white puffs of steam from the exhaust pipe. Josh stood with a proud smile. "There you have it, a lawnmower that runs on water. Can you imagine the implications? What if you can do the same thing with a car engine? Can you imagine a microwave steam-powered car?"

"What happens if you disconnect the battery?" Eddie said as he kicked the positive terminal loose. As expected, the engine quit. "What you have here, Dad, is a complicated electric lawnmower. Sure the blade is being spun by steam, but electricity is driving it. You might as well just drive the blade with an electric motor. I think you can buy one at Sears."

Josh's smile melted.

"And the magnetron, ever put a foil wrapped burger in the microwave? That's why it keeps burning up. I think you get the idea." Eddie hadn't intended to be so callous, but he hated all the crackpots and self proclaimed engineers that went around claiming to have discovered a new concept. The Internet was full of them. Eddie felt a sudden pang of guilt and stooped back down to examine the carburetor. "You did a real nice job on this Dad. You should post a picture on that site where you saw this."

"Don't placate me."

When Eddie stood, Josh glanced back at the object in the middle of the bench. Eddie reached over and yanked the rag off. "How much did this one cost?"

"The wooden one caught fire I—"

"That where the soot came from?"

"Yeah, the website said it generated a considerable amount of heat. I didn't much believe them but, well, you see what happened. Your mother smelled the smoke and came running. I told her the tractor—"

"Yeah, I get it Dad." Eddie ran his fingers over the surface of the wooden model. "Diesel?"

"10W-50 motor oil. They said the original used cooking oil because of the heat, but you know, you can't believe everything you read on the Internet."

"Now you're getting it." Eddie spotted the pump connected to some tubing. "Another electric engine?"

"It was supposed to run on its own once you got it up to speed."

"With the electric motor?"

"Guess that makes it just a fancy electric pump, huh."

"If something was out there, I have no doubt you could build it, but free energy is just a myth. I'm just sayin' that with mom gone, you're going to have to be careful with money. Tell you what, why don't you get rid of all this junk and buy yourself that zero-turn riding mower you always wanted? Get the big one with all the bells and whistles."

"I might."

"We were talking earlier about you moving to South Carolina. It was always the plan."

"I just lost your mother, not sure I'm ready to lose the house too."

"Makes sense, maybe in the spring. You tell Sarah about mom?"

Josh turned away. Eddie flipped off the light over the work bench and followed his dad into the family room.

"You know that project you're working on in school?" Josh said as he settled onto his favorite chair. "I was thinking detents, like on the tractor's transaxle, might do the trick. You could—"

"Don't change the subject."

Josh started to get up.

"Come on Dad, in a few hours you're going to be alone."

Josh sat back down, his gaze fixed on a picture across the room.

"It's not like you're going to jump into bed with her; not that there'd be anything wrong with it, I'm just sayin'—"

"I don't want to talk about it, okay?"

"No, it's not." Eddie could tell Josh was getting angry, but he continued. "I know you and mom weren't that close. Almost as far back as I can remember, you were always out in the shop or running us to classes, while mom was doing laundry or watching her soaps."

"Like you know anything about relationships. When was the last time you went out with the fairer sex?"

"It's going to be like that?"

"We brought you three kids into this world. Made a good home for you and saw you through college. I don't know what you've got to complain about."

Eddie looked up directly into his father's eyes. "Maybe you gave up too much."

"You ungrateful—"

"You know that's not true." Anger was Josh's defense mechanism; it was obvious Eddie needed a different tactic, maybe the direct approach. "Listen Dad, I'm just sayin' that Sarah is your friend; and in times like this, you need to reach out to your friends wherever they are. There's no magic waiting period, that's a load of social crap. If you need her, reach out to her or one of us. We just need to know you'll be okay."

Josh rubbed his eyes and stood. "I'll take you all to the airport in the morning."

"We can take the shuttle."

"I'll take you. It's important for Missy."

"For all of us."

Josh patted Eddie on the shoulder and headed for the stairs.

"Mind if I have a look at your drawings?"

"They're in the tube labeled 'Clem', but don't get to caught up; it's just a bunch of Internet hocus-pocus." Josh half waved and went up to his room.

It was raining when they landed in Greenville. A cold dismal day, the kind of day made for funerals.

### Chapter 2

Josh flexed his fingers before typing his password, not because they were stiff, but because he was stalling. He'd been terrible to cut Sarah off with no explanation. Outside of a few vacations, this was the longest they'd gone without emailing. He knew she'd understand, his grief at Betty's death and all, and while that's how it began, the truth was he was starting to realize he might have feelings for her and frankly, that scared him. His email account came up with one hundred and forty messages. After deleting the obvious spam, he was left with twenty; ten of them from Sarah. The last five titled;

Are you alright? What have I done to upset you?

Then he spotted an email Betty had obviously sent before the stroke. He hesitated, not sure if he wanted to read it, but curiosity finally got the better of him. It was a quick note about a rush project she was finishing up at work and that she'd be a few minutes late. Would he please turn the crock pot down to low. _That was dinner_ , he thought. _Guess I never really thought about how much she did, the cooking, the laundry, all the household planning. Selfish bastard, always thinking about how much I did._ He shook his head and sat back with tears streaming down his cheeks. After a few minutes, he clicked his favorite playlist, the one that took him to his writing place, then went into the kitchen to make a sandwich. Caitlin called while he was eating, but except for a few pauses, he felt he kept his emotions in check. When she hung up, he poured another glass of diet root beer and walked over to the window. Despite a bright sun, the withered vegetation was a clear indication of an early winter. It suddenly occurred to him that he could now keep the house as warm as he wanted, no more battles with a menopausal wife. He noticed his favorite song was playing, closed his eyes and soaked in the music and the afternoon sun.

He opened his eyes as a crow swooped down and landed on Peter's rusty, old basketball hoop. Another followed, perhaps his mate. The sun coaxed their wings to hues of blue that reminded him of Sarah's hair. He lingered until the birds flew away then topped off his drink and returned to the computer. Still feeling guilty, he ignored the email and opened her picture. The essence of her Native American heritage, straight, black, shoulder length hair framed her face, and her eyes of china blue lifted his cheeks with a smile. He sighed and opened her first email. It was the final revision on the last chapter of her manuscript. As he scanned through it, the phone rang.

"Hello... Oh hey Ed... no, I was getting to it. As a matter of fact I was checking email when you called.... Caitlin called a little while ago. She sounded all right, but you keep in touch with her and Peter... I know, but sometimes silence is worse than getting it out. Did you get a chance to try that detent idea from the tractor we talked about?... Great, like I always say, if you want answers to the future, look to the past.... I know already, you're worse than your mother. I'm going to email Sarah as soon as we get off the phone. How do you think I should tell her, just say it straight out?... Yeah, I'm the writer.... Alright then, I'll talk to you later."

Josh took a long drink of his soda, hesitantly clicked 'compose', and let his heart guide his fingers, 'Dear Sarah, I'm so sorry...'

* * *

Sarah opened the oven, slid out the rack and then set the muffin tin on top of the stove. On the counter, taffy colored water started bubbling against the little glass top of the percolator. The metal lid jingled its merry tune as the aroma of freshly brewed coffee competed with the banana muffins. Sarah thought she heard a chime and walked to the archway that past into the dining room, but there was no new email. She leaned back against the archway, her gaze falling to the floor. His emails had become the sunshine in her mornings and it had been almost a week since they stopped without warning. _Was it the publishing contract?_ she thought, but that couldn't be; he wasn't the jealous type. _What did I do? Why won't he write?_ Suddenly the chime rang. Her heart leapt with expectation as she opened Josh's email, but sank as she read the news of Betty's unexpected death. Even so, her sadness was tainted with a touch of anger. Why hadn't he told her right away? He had to know she'd come, to help, to console him. But her anger passed quickly because she knew she wouldn't have gone; it simply wasn't possible. Fear now clouded her emotions, would things change between them? Married, Josh was safe, but now, what about now? Sarah decided to consider her reply and instead headed upstairs to take a shower.

The water cut off with a familiar bang that rattled the old pipes. They'd done that as long as she could remember, a kind of signal that the shower was available for the next person; however she now lived alone in her parents' old house. As she was drying off, she thought she heard the email chime again and instead of getting dressed, threw on her robe and raced downstairs. "Ah!" she shrieked when she ran into Shelly at the foot of the steps.

"Hey little sister," Shelly said through a mouthful of muffin. "Hope you don't mind?"

"You're going to give me a stroke doing that. What are you doing here?"

"Just checking up on you." Shelly eyed Sarah up and down. "Nice to see you in something other than those worn-out, old sweats."

Sarah pulled her robe tighter. "It's not like I never wear anything else."

"Isn't it?" Shelly took another bite of muffin. "That coffee I smell?"

"Oh come on." Sarah led Shelly into the kitchen. "You really should call before you drop by."

"You haven't returned my calls since yesterday."

Sarah opened the cabinet and grabbed two china cups.

"You hear from Josh yet?"

Sarah fumbled one of the cups and braced herself for the crash. "Would you look at that, it landed in the pocket of my robe."

"Should I take that as a yes?"

"Take it however you want." Sarah was getting annoyed, but could no longer contain her emotions and burst into tears.

"What's all this?" Shelly said, jumping up to steady her. She led Sarah over to the table, sat her down and got them each a cup of coffee.

Sarah couldn't stop crying, not even the coffee helped. To make it worse, she knew Shelly was hovering, waiting for another chance to pry. Sarah had secrets, the kind of secrets that scar a person for life, but she had learned to accept her plight, that is, until Josh's news brought it all back. Suddenly the isolation, the loneliness were too much to bear. She needed someone, perhaps her sister, but she still regretted telling Shelly about Josh in the first place. Sarah wiped her eyes and looked up.

"Come on, you can tell your big sister. What's up with you and Josh?"

Sarah took another sip of coffee to clear her throat. "His wife died, I just got the—"

"Wife! He's married? His wife didn't find out about you two and—"

"God no!" This was another mistake. She set her coffee cup down, crossed her ankles and wrapped her arms around herself. "We were just friends," she defended. The tears returned.

Shelly got up and went to the refrigerator. She took a paper out from under one of the magnets on the door and returned to her chair. "Okay, let's talk about friends. First off, you have this email on your frig." Shelly scanned down the page and read, "Her hair, dark as a raven's wing, captures her face. A wisp that lay across her brow denies perfection. Porcelain nor marble can capture her radiance, but like the moon, the grains of obscurity reflect the warmth and love that molded them. The moon pales by comparison." She scanned down a few more lines. "How about this one. 'Her brow parted by the hand of God, guards pools of azure splendor. Lashes that sweep toward heaven like reeds ring their elegance. Eyes set apart speak of unity, with nature, with life, with heritage. To gaze into them is to feel serenity.' Don't you get it Sarah, this is you, and you know it or you wouldn't have put it on your frig."

"We're writers; it's what writers do."

"I see, not convinced." Shelly looked back down at the paper. "Here, this one's priceless, 'Nostrils bow to lips that are as wet and warm as a desert oasis. His heart drinks the sweet water that renews his soul. Her chin ebbs gently into eternity and the path to heaven.' The path to heaven for Christ's sake! He wants to get in your pants." When Sarah didn't respond, Shelly got up, stormed over to the refrigerator and slapped the paper back under the magnet.

Sarah was cowering when Shelly flopped down in her chair with a sigh. There were things Sarah felt, but could never admit to herself because they could unlock feelings, feelings that needed to stay buried. An anxious silence ensued. Shelly, apparently feeling guilty, got up and retrieved the coffee pot to warm their cups. "No thanks," Sarah said, putting her hand over her cup. "Guess I should get dressed."

"Fine," Shelly said, "runaway. Go hide in your room, but you can't hide in this house forever."

"You're not listening to me, we're just friends."

"I'm not listening? No little sister, you're not listening to Josh. Shame on you for fooling around with a married man, but he's not married anymore."

Sarah wanted to run, just like Shelly said, but she controlled her trembling legs and walked to the stairs. "I have to get dressed." When she got to the top of the stairs, she buried her face in her towel to mute her sobs. Shelly's tongue lashing had driven a stake through her heart. What she hoped would have been compassion was anything but.

"This letter what I think it is?" Shelly called up the stairs.

Apparently Sarah hadn't covered her distress as well as she thought and Shelly was trying to make amends. "Yeah," Sarah said, "they want to publish my manuscript."

"Sarah! That's terrific, can I peek?"

"Be my guest. I've got to blow dry my hair, I'll be down in a few minutes." Sarah slipped on her favorite black sweats and went into the bathroom. As she turned on the blow-dryer, Shelly yelled.

"We should have... to celebrate."

"You say celebrate with supper?" Sarah could barely hear over the blow-dryer.

"Sure, my place is fine. I'll take care of invit... how about Friday?"

"Supper on Friday?"

"Sure."

"That'd be great." Sarah bent over to dry the back of her hair. A few passes and she shut the blow-dryer off. She leaned out of the bathroom thinking she heard typing. "Are you on the computer?" There was no answer. Sarah went back to the bathroom mirror to brush her hair. No matter what she did, it always came out straight, but blow drying had been a good excuse to escape Shelly's scrutiny. As she brushed, she started thinking about what Shelly said. Was she right? Did Josh want more than to be critique partners? _No,_ she thought, _we_ _talked about Betty, his children, I wouldn't—he wouldn't—_ "I'll be right there." Sarah stepped into her slippers and headed for the stairs. "You know," she said as she walked into the kitchen, "I was thinking about what you said and I think you were wrong—Shell?" Shelly was nowhere to be seen, but from the dining room there was a rapid flurry of typing. Sarah raced to the archway. "What are you doing?"

Shelly hit a few more keys, then with great flare, finished and stood. "It's all settled then, a party at my place, week from Friday."

"Party?" Sarah whined, "I thought you were talking about supper, just the two of us."

"Nonsense, we can do that anytime. Getting published deserves a party. I'll take care of everything. You just show up at eight, with Josh of course."

"Shelllllly?"

As Sarah came through the archway, her gaze followed Shelly's to the computer screen. "Is that my account? You didn't!" Sarah gasped. "How could you, his wife just died."

"Hey, you don't know unless you ask."

Sarah grabbed a handful of loose pages and threw them at Shelly, then chased her to the door. "I can't believe you. Do you have any idea what you've done? Get out of here! Leave me alone!"

Shelly retreated to the porch. "You'll thank me later. See you Friday. I'm dying to meet your beau."

Sarah slammed the door and fell back against it trembling. She looked across the living room at the computer like it was a smoking gun. Slowly banging the back of her head against the door, she thought, _He'll say no, Betty just died, he has to say no even if he wanted to come, how would it look? But what if he says yes, the picture, how can I tell him he can't?_

It's been said, 'the one thing that will never change is things change.' Sarah had reached out over the Internet to Josh. He lived far away, was older, married, safe; he had become her lifeline. But the very lifeline that had drawn her out of her protective shell, had just broken, leaving her exposed and vulnerable. She could never meet him, it simply wasn't possible. Her head drooped to her chest.

Suddenly the mail chime rang with the startling finality of the Titanic's foghorn. It was too late to alter course. There was nothing left to do but brace for the inevitable. She stumbled through the living room, imagining water pouring over the walls, filling the room and flopped down at the computer. It was a message from Josh titled, 'RE: Party'. She shivered, imagining the icy water and clicked open.

Hey, Kiddo

Published! Wow, I'm so damn proud of you, way to go, my pants hats off to you. lol! I really wish I could come to the party, but next Thursday is our Thanksgiving. The children will be home, and it will be the first without their mother. We'll have dinner at Betty's sister's. I dread all the sympathy, but I know everyone means well. I'm sorry I can't be there.

Thanks for the invite,

-josh-

"He can't come?" Sarah mumbled. Then louder, "He can't come." Had they missed the iceberg? Was she safe? Maybe things could remain as they were. Although relieved, Sarah felt a twinge of disappointment like an opportunity had passed.

* * *

Eddie rounded the corner onto Hammond Branch Way and glanced down at the car clock; they'd made the trip in just over eight and a half hours. He'd done most of the driving.

"Look," Caitlin said, leaning over the front seat, "Dad's in the garage."

"Well, at least he's not mopin' around the house." Eddie said.

When Caitlin punched him in the shoulder, he trounced on the gas and threw her against the back seat. The car bottomed out as he turned into the driveway and screeched to a halt next to Josh's car.

"Very funny." Caitlin jumped out and headed toward the front door with Peter right behind. "Last one to the door's a rotten egg." Peter was always up for a little competition.

Eddie closed his door and saw the thin sliver of light around the garage doors go out. He stretched his back and went around to the trunk. In the foyer, he could see Caitlin, Peter and Josh exchanging hugs. Caitlin was talking a mile a minute. He pulled his suitcase out of the trunk and started to close it, but reconsidered. He was glad to see his father, but felt awkward with emotional exchanges, so he took Peter and Caitlin's suitcases out before closing the trunk. When he got to the front door, Josh opened it.

"Did you get mine?" Caitlin asked.

"How about the PlayStation?" Peter added.

"Right," Eddie said, "welcome to the Smith Hilton." He dropped their stuff in the foyer. "I don't do room service."

"So," Josh said, "traffic bad?"

"Piece a cake; it's great they give us Wednesday off. I imagine tonight will be a bitch with tomorrow being Thanksgiving and all." Josh opened his arms to give him a hug, but Eddie intercepted his right arm and shook hands. "It's great to see you Dad."

"Yeah. Come on in the kitchen. I stocked up on Dr. Pepper, even got it on sale."

"See Peter," Caitlin whispered, "told you he'd do alright. He got it on sale."

They sat down around the kitchen table to catch up. Except for Betty not cooking at the stove, everything was identical to years past. Eddie smiled as Caitlin started in on Peter about how well Josh was doing. To avert any problems, Eddie put the major bills on automatic bill pay. Josh seemed better than Eddie expected except for the bags under his eyes. After about half an hour, the doorbell rang.

"I got it," Eddie said, "I ordered pizza when we hit Route 29. You still like plain?"

"Sure," Josh said, "although I've taken a liking to ham and pineapple."

Eddie glanced over at the trashcan and spotted the stack of pizza boxes. "Not exactly doing a lot of cooking."

"They're not delivery, they're DiGiorno," Josh joked.

"Daddy!" Caitlin gasped when she saw the boxes, "you'll blow up like a balloon."

"Been so busy, I always forget about eating till it's late."

"That's even worse."

Josh just shrugged. Eddie paid the delivery boy and turned around with five pizzas. "Looks like I'm not the only one who's going to balloon."

Peter got up and refilled his glass. "We called the guys on the way home, they should be over in a few minutes." The doorbell rang and the front door opened. "Here they are now."

"I wondered what was keeping them," Josh said. "Now this is like old times."

Eddie set the pizzas on the counter and everyone dug in. After about an hour, Caitlin's cell phone rang. She talked for a few minutes then looked over at Josh. Before she could ask, Josh answered, "Keys are hanging where they always do. No drinking."

"You know I don't drink Daddy." She gave Josh a kiss on the cheek, grabbed the keys and her coat and head out the front door. "Thanks Daddy."

"That goes for you guys too. There's beer in the frig, but if you're drinking, you're staying here tonight. You know where the jar is." The boys all tossed their car keys in the empty mayonnaise jar.

It was a fun night, some poker and a few drinking games. Josh played for awhile, but busted out of poker around one in the morning. "Well, that ought to do it for me. You all keep it down so you don't wake your mother." The room fell instantly quiet. "You know what I meant. No driving."

"Goodnight Dad."

They didn't mean to, didn't even know they were, but the boys were loud until about two when the alcoholic euphoria caught up with them. One-by-one they found a couch or recliner and fell asleep. Eddie was sitting at the kitchen table, knocking down the last of his beer when Josh came downstairs. "Oh, hey Dad, what you doing up?"

"Missy home yet."

"No, but I'm sure she will be soon."

"Yeah." Josh poured a glass of milk and sat down with Eddie. "Your brother and sister really doing as well as they let on?"

"I think so. I saw some of Caitlin's work on display in the library and I always run into Peter when I'm there."

"That's good, I just worry about them."

"How about you?" Eddie asked.

"It gets a little quiet around here, but it was anyway once Missy headed off to school."

"I saw the light on in the garage when we pulled up, you're not still messing around with that microwave lawnmower are you?"

"Nah."

"The conical pump?"

"Not exactly."

"Come on Dad, you can find something better to do with your time than that. Have you given anymore thought to moving south."

"You know, I think I'd miss the snow."

"And the aches and pains of arthritis?"

"Yeah." Josh chuckled.

"We've always been a close family, I'd just like to see us stay that way. I think mom would want us to."

The front door squeaked and Caitlin came in. She was obviously surprised to see Josh and Eddie at the table. "Sorry Daddy, but I'm tired." She gave Josh a kiss on the cheek and then went straight upstairs.

"Can I show you something without you getting all worked up?" Josh asked after Caitlin was out of ear shot.

"Sure." Eddie said.

Josh led Eddie out to the workbench in the garage, sat down and then turned on the light. The conical pump that had been there before, was now connected to a maze of pipes, a reservoir of oil and an electric pump. Eddie was really too tired for it, but decided to humor his father. "So Dad, have any better luck?"

Josh flicked on the electric pump. A tachometer connected to the conical pump climbed until it read fifteen hundred RPM. "Here's the problem, when I turn the electric pump off, it stops."

"It's not a problem Dad, it's physics."

"Okay, then what about the wooden one, why did it keep running?"

"I don't know, momentum?"

"The metal one should have more momentum." Josh turned off the switch and the tachometer slowly fell. "It doesn't make any sense."

Eddie refrained from saying it made perfect sense and instead, rested his palm on the casing of the conical pump. "How long did it take the wooden one to get hot?"

"I don't know, a couple of minutes."

"This one's cool. Maybe there are some tolerance differences, the wood could have swelled, something like that."

"I'm not trying to make it work or anything Ed. Fact is I haven't spent another dime on it, but don't you think it's strange the wooden one caught fire and this one doesn't even get warm?"

"Listen, I'm beat Dad, can we take a look at this tomorrow?"

"Sure." Josh reached up and turned off the light.

The next day they went over to Betty's sister Jane's for Thanksgiving dinner. It was a nice family tradition, but after a day of condolences and questions about how he was doing, Josh was in quite a funk by the time they got home. Eddie, Peter and Caitlin's friends came over late, for an impromptu party. Later that evening, Eddie saw Josh slip out into the garage. He waited awhile before looking in on him, but decided not to disturb him. It was curious about the pump.

### Chapter 3

Sarah stayed glued to Shelly's side as they greeted their guests. While it was true she knew everyone, she was nervous. She hadn't been around this many people in years. As the party progressed, Sarah retreated to a corner. Content as a wall flower, she quietly sipped her Coke. Peering over her glass toward a boisterous laugh, she made momentary eye contact with Mr. Eckhart and cringed when he started toward her. This was the very reason she kept to herself and now, after all these years, she'd have to face him. She'd acted out the scenario a thousand times. She'd be angry not meek and slap or maybe spit on him, but now, when the moment was at hand, she cowered. A quick glance to either side offered no escape. She hid her face behind another sip of Coke.

"I suppose congratulations are in order," he grunted, his sour Whiskey breath pouring over her. He staggered, almost dropping his drink. "I understand you have an American partner. I should like to meet him."

"I'm afraid he couldn't be here."

"Pity. Well, no matter I suppose you at least know the story." An ice cube bounced off his formidable belly as he sloshed back the rest of his drink. He extended his glass toward Sarah, but before she could take it, it fell to the floor. "I see you've let your hair grow."

Sarah recoiled against the wall as he reached toward her.

"Getting back in touch with your heritage I suppose."

Sarah tried to force a conciliatory smile while quickly scanning the room for Shelly. Her expression must have been transparent, because when Shelly saw her, she immediately started toward them.

"Devin," Shelly crooned, putting her arm around Mr. Eckhart's shoulders, diverting him away from Sarah. "Margaret's been asking for you." Shelly pointed across the room to a group of middle-aged women.

"Margaret?"

Surely you haven't forgotten your wife?"

Mr. Eckhart tugged on his lapels and puffed his chest. "I'll have you know we've been married for—"

"Fifty years. Yes I know." Shelly leaned forward and whispered in his ear. "What would she think if she saw what you were doing?"

"Doing?" Mr. Eckhart groaned, "I wasn't doing anything. I would never—"

Shelly cut him off with a big wet kiss on the cheek and pushed him toward his red-faced wife. Sarah grinned, her first of the night. It wasn't like she imagined, but he was humiliated nonetheless. With Shelly distracted, Sarah slipped away to blend back into the background. She thought she'd done just that until Shelly spoke.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention."

Sarah grimaced at Luke's shrill whistle, dreading what was to come.

"Sarah? Oh, there you are, why don't you join me?"

Sarah's face was burning, the embarrassment only heightened her anxiety.

Shelly continued as Sarah made her way through the group toward the staircase. "As you all know, little sister has just signed a publishing contract for her first novel." Shelly pulled Sarah up on the first step next to her as everyone applauded. "Why don't you tell us about your book?"

"Well," Sarah started, "it's a romance that—"

"Speak up, we can't hear you," Mr. Eckhart grumbled.

"Can I sell it in my store?" Luke asked. "When can I get it?"

"Come on boys," Shelly said, "give her a chance."

"Well, um, let's see, Grayson and Gwen are the main characters. When Grayson comes to town—"

"I heard it was Weymouth, is it Weymouth?" Luke interrupted again.

"Yes. When Grayson comes to Weymouth, he falls in love with Gwen, but a car accident on the old, iron, bridge—"

There was a collective gasp as Mr. Eckhart stumbled back against his wife almost knocking several people down.

"How dare you!" Margaret huffed. "Have you no decency?"

"Sarah!" Shelly yelled as Sarah bolted up the stairs.

Sarah heard her name a second time as she slammed the bedroom door. She threw herself on the bed and covered her head with the pillows to escape.

* * *

Within half an hour, Shelly was sitting in an empty room surrounded by the remnants of her great idea. Nothing had gone as planned. Josh didn't come and judging from Sarah's outburst, all she had done was drive Sarah further into herself. Shelly glanced upstairs, but decided to pick up before confronting her. The floor was littered with popcorn and broken potato chips, but the carpet would have to wait until tomorrow. She grabbed the serving tray of chips and dip and headed for the kitchen. "Clifford!" she shrieked almost dropping the tray. "I thought everyone was gone. What are you doing here?"

"Thought I'd stick around and see if you needed any help."

"That's awfully nice of you, but I'm just going to grab the big stuff, the rest can wait until morning."

"I see. Guess I'll just go then." Clifford's voice tailed off to a whisper.

Shelly felt guilty. Although Sarah had never given him any cause, Clifford had followed her around since high school. It was obvious he adored her. "Tell you what, do you mind bringing in the leftovers while I rinse off these plates?"

"Sure, be my pleasure."

_Yeah, great,_ Shelly thought as Clifford disappeared into the living room. It was cute, but kind of sad the way he hung around.

It only took fifteen minutes to clean up and when they finished, Shelly waved him over to the table. It was time for a little heart-to-heart. "You know she won't come back down."

"Excuse me?"

"Sarah, she won't come down."

"No, I don't suppose so."

"So," Shelly said, realizing this might be a little more difficult than she thought, "how long have you been harboring this thing for her?"

"Thing? What thing?"

"Oh, come on, everyone knows you adore her."

"Everyone don't know no such thing."

"Really. You're saying all these years you've been following her around for no reason?"

"No."

"No what? It doesn't make any sense unless you're one of those pervs."

"I ain't no such a thing."

His short answers told Shelly there was something he either couldn't or wouldn't say. The question was, about what? Shelly got up from the table. "You want me to go try?"

"No!" Clifford said, grabbing Shelly's wrist. When he looked up, he immediately released her arm. "Sorry, I didn't mean to touch—"

"You don't have to be sorry, you've always been a perfect gentleman, dependable, helpful—"

"Like a sled dog."

"That's not what I meant." Shelly sat back down and took Clifford's hand. When she did, his gaze sank to the floor. "You're a sweetheart, a little naive, but a sweetheart."

"Then you'll go out with me?" Clifford mumbled.

"What?"

"I know you think I'm just a dumb grease monkey, but—"

"I don't think that."

"I got tickets to the movies tomorrow night. I'll spring for the popcorn and everything."

"Sounds wonderful. Sure, I'd love to go out with you."

"Damn!"

"Damn?"

"Sorry. It's just, well," Clifford glanced at the date on his watch, "it took me three thousand, six hundred and twenty two days to—well, you know, I was sure you'd say no."

"You mean to tell me, all these years it's been me?"

Clifford blushed. "Well, I guess I should go."

"Not so fast mister." Shelly yanked him to his feet, pulled him into her arms and kissed him.

Clifford staggered back, clutching his hat to his chest. "Uh, well, thank you. I'll be seein' you tomorrow then." He stepped outside and closed the door.

_Wow,_ Shelly thought, _who would have ever thought?_

Suddenly the back door opened. "I'll pick you up eight-thirty, sharp." The door slammed and immediately reopened. "Sorry." Clifford tipped his hat and eased the door closed.

Shelly grinned. "All this time, what an adorable dunce."

* * *

Sarah stepped away from the window as the kitchen door slammed. She wiped her tears and almost smiled as Clifford ran down the driveway, slipped and fell in the snow. She sat down on the bed as a sliver of light from the hallway stretched across the wall.

"I brought you a Coke," Shelly whispered. "No ice, just like you like it."

Sarah took the drink in silence, her attention never leaving the window. She took a sip and dabbed her eyes with a tissue. "Was that Clifford leaving?"

"Yeah."

"I wish he'd leave me alone. He's sweet, but—"

"Who said he was after you?"

"Come on Shell, he's been shadowing me like a puppy since high school."

The bed shook as Shelly sat down. "And you're not interested. Why's that?"

"I can't, especially now."

"Because of Josh?"

"You come to pick another fight?"

"No, but you have to admit—"

"I don't have to admit anything." Sarah turned with an imposing glare. "Once and for all, Josh and I are friends. I love him to death, but as a friend. He's my mentor, my muse. We're like two sides of a coin. Get it."

"Okay already, I didn't mean to intrude." Shelly got up.

"Don't go." Sarah took another sip of her Coke as Shelly sat back down. "I owe you an apology. I know you're just trying to look out for me. I'm sorry I ruined the party, I'm just not ready." Sarah flinched as Shelly patted her leg.

"It's wonderful how you write and all, and I understand that it takes a lot of alone time. I really do, but you can't shut yourself off from the rest of the world. We're not going to be knock-out gorgeous forever you know." Shelly pushed her hair up on her head and blew a kiss. "Lord knows there's not much to pick from around here, but you can't—"

"Stop right there!" Sarah jumped up from the bed, sloshing her Coke on the bedspread. "Ah! Now look what you've made me do."

"I didn't—"

"No you didn't, you never do. I know you think I'm frigid. Fine, I don't care, but you have no right to judge me when you don't know what happened." Sarah sank back onto the bed in tears.

"What are you talking about?" Shelly said, and grabbed Sarah's Coke just before it slipped out of her hand.

"I can't." Sarah shook her head in protest as Shelly pushed her hair back and lifted her chin. "I promised father."

Shelly was also crying. "To what end? He's been dead for five years. I'm your sister, your family, you have to trust me."

Sarah resisted. For years she wanted, no needed, someone to confide in, how could she break her vow? "What do you remember about my senior year?"

"How proud I was when you got your journalism degree."

"No, high school."

"High school?" Shelly scooted back on the bed, slightly behind Sarah. "I remember you had a rough time. You'd think after I refused to go into the Immersion program, father would have lightened up, but I guess he thought he had one last chance with you. I should have been more help, but you did alright."

"Not really." Sarah's defenses were softening, partly because Shelly wasn't pressing. "And my prom?"

"If I remember, you arranged a sleepover at Jennifer's so father wouldn't know. You hadn't quite worked up the nerve to tell him you were going to follow in my sinful footsteps at that point. I guess you found it at the 'forbidden dance'." Shelly made little quote marks in the air with her fingers. "I was surprised the next morning to see you'd cut your hair, and shocked that father seemed to take it in stride. He acted more protective than angry. Quite a change from my ordeal. God! Do you remember the first time I wore pants? He was always more protective of you though. Can you imagine what he'd have done if I skipped out on college?"

Sarah didn't answer immediately, she still couldn't bring herself to break her vow. She needed Shelly to coax it out of her. "I didn't skip out."

"I don't know what else you'd call running off to Europe?"

Sarah could feel the wall returning. She'd come close, maybe next time. She got up and went to the window. Her breath clouded the glass as she spoke. "I should be getting home." Then, without thinking, her finger scribed 'Drew' in the fogged glass.

"Drew Eckhart?" Shelly joined Sarah at the window. "It was a horrible tragedy, and on prom night, but—"

Sarah erased Drew's name with one swipe. "I'm glad he died, he deserved it." Sarah glanced up at Shelly's shocked face. The wall came crashing down and she collapsed into Shelly's arms. After a few minutes aimlessly staring out the window, Sarah broke eight years of silence. "He raped me."

Shelly guided them onto the bed, keeping Sarah tightly against her. As Sarah's sobs quieted, Shelly kissed the top of her head and then spoke. "Tell me what happened."

Sarah looked up, but this time she knew Shelly wasn't prying, she truly wanted to help. "It was a game to him, a bet."

Shelly grabbed a handful of tissues and handed them to Sarah. "Start from the beginning."

Sarah blew her nose before continuing. "You know how the Eckhart's resent us?"

"Sure, because of our fishing rights. What does that have to do—"

"I didn't know back in high school. Drew seemed like a nice enough boy. He never really paid any attention to me in school, but it was different at the prom."

"Really? That's odd, if they resented—I'm sorry, go ahead."

"Drew and a few of his friends danced with me, mostly Drew. I was having a wonderful time, I even forgot that I deceived father. I think Jennifer was a little jealous, because when Drew went to get us punch, she hinted I was being promiscuous. Anyway, Drew and I sat out a few dances and talked, not about anything specific, just school and stuff. The band played one of Drew's favorites, so he asked me to dance again. It was a slow song. At the end of the song, he kissed me. It was the first time a boy ever kissed me." Sarah got up from the bed and went back to the window. "One of the chaperones saw us and said she was going to call our parents. I was mortified, but Drew seemed to think it was funny. He apologized, even said it was his fault and that it wouldn't happen again, so she just warned us. Drew hung out with his friends for the next half hour while Jennifer and I sat with the other girls that didn't have dates. After they crowned the king and queen, Drew asked me if I wanted another kiss. I did, but I told him we couldn't because they were watching us. He said he knew a place, so we snuck out the side door and I followed him down to the soccer field." Shame began to erode Sarah's resolve and she became tentative, confused.

Shelly stood and handed Sarah her Coke. "Don't stop, you have to put this behind you."

"I'm not sure I can."

"You can, I know you can. You were at the soccer field, then what happened?"

Sarah gulped down a mouthful of Coke. "We kissed, more a peck like in the gym, but then he wrapped his arms around me and really kissed me. While we were kissing, something changed. All of a sudden I felt trapped—I tried to pull back, but he wouldn't let go. His hand was behind my head, holding me. He stuck his tongue in my mouth—I pushed harder and tried to turn my head—he wouldn't let go. I'm not sure how—either he pulled it lose or it came out because I was struggling—I don't think that could happen—no, I made sure—but—"

"Easy," Shelly said, "take a minute."

Sarah took another sip of Coke. "I'm sorry. Let's see—okay, when he finally relaxed his grip, my hair was down. He got angry, said I was lying, that I was teasing him. Then, he pulled a knife out of his pocket. Said if I was really coming out, I'd let him cut my hair. I couldn't, I wouldn't. I started to back away and they grabbed me."

"Who?"

"His friends I guess. They held my arms, my head, I tried to scream but they covered my mouth. Drew yanked my hair to one side, twisted it tight and cut it above my shoulder. I felt each slice like he was cutting out my soul. I cried, but that made them laugh. They mocked me, yelped like wild Indians, said he scalped me. Drew said I didn't look so privileged now." Sarah broke down.

"Kids hear stuff like that from their parents. Wasn't that the year father bought a new truck? It was, I remember he used to give Drew's father a ride to work because his truck was broken down and they couldn't afford to get it fixed. I'm sorry, go ahead."

"The boys started turning me around in circles until I could barely stand, then suddenly pushed me. I spun out of my coat into Drew's arms. When I looked back, they disappeared into the night with my coat. Drew asked me how I liked my coming out party so far. The way he said it, I tried to scream, but he slammed me up against a lamp pole. The lamp shattered and glass rained down on us. A piece cut Drew's face. When he saw the blood on his fingers, he smeared it on my face, first one cheek, then the other. I was petrified, I couldn't move. He ran a bloody finger down my nose and said it was war paint, from a war we lost. He said if I wanted privileges, he'd give me one. I tried to run Shell, I tried, but my legs wouldn't. I stumbled into the bushes and he pounced on me." Sarah wiped her eyes and struggled through the tears. "I couldn't scream, I couldn't fight, I just lay there while he attacked me. It hurt Shell. He hurt me."

"I'm so sorry," Shelly said, wrapping Sarah in her arms. "I had no idea."

"When it was over, he stood over me, waving my ponytail above his head, until—"

"Until what?"

Sarah pulled away and turned back to the window. "I hate the night, the darkness, the shadows. He was still laughing when suddenly his face lit up. It was the night watchman. He yelled, 'what's going on there?' Drew ducked down, spit on me and ran off toward the parking lot with my clothes."

"That's why they found a dress in his car when they fished it out of the river."

"The watchman's flashlight shown down on me and I just laid there for him to gawk at. I was naked, dirty and I had blood from Drew's cut on me. I think he thought I was dead. He called for backup on his radio then ran off after Drew. I couldn't let them find me, not like that. What would I tell father? I found the strength to get up, crept through the bushes to the dumpster, covered myself with trash bags and ran home. While I was running through the woods, Drew's car sped past with the police in pursuit."

"I know the rest," Shelly said, "he lost control and went off the bridge."

Sarah shook her head.

"There's more? Wait, I remember hearing father's voice in the hall that night."

"I was in the bathroom."

"Right, you said you'd gotten sick at Jennifer's."

"I took a bath, went to my room, got dressed and tried to pretend the whole thing never happened. But I knew, I knew when father saw my hair—there was nothing I could do."

"The police came to the door the next morning. Father argued with them, told them it was impossible, that you couldn't have been at the prom. There voices became whispers and I could no longer make out what they were saying."

"When they left, father barged into my room. He saw my hair and knew I lied. I needed him Shell. I told him Drew raped me. Do you know what he said? He said it was punishment for sinning. He told me no one could ever know what happened, because it was my fault. I lured Drew into the clutches of lust and just as surely killed him. Then he told me to lie to the police."

"That's where you two went. My God Sarah, how could he blame you? How? Did mother know?"

Sarah shook her head.

"Did he at least take you to the doctor?"

Sarah shook her head again.

"But you—"

"I was sick a lot that summer."

"I remember." Shelly said in a soft, reminiscent voice.

"I thought it was just nerves. I had no one to turn to. In the fall, I left for college."

"You didn't take a year abroad did you?"

"No." Sarah's breath fogged the window and you could make out Drew's name again. She smeared it away. "When my 'sin', as father referred to it, became obvious, he made me withdraw and sent me to a home for unwed mothers. Do you know what it's like to carry a child you hate? Of course you don't, I hope you never do. I used to slap my belly when she kicked. I couldn't help it, she was a constant reminder of what happened. No matter where I went, what I did, she was there poking at me, sinner, sinner. You want to know something odd?"

"Okay."

"I cried when she died."

"Died! Oh my God."

"There were complications during delivery. I've always wondered if she would have lived if I'd been in a real hospital. I was going to name her Lorina—it means little sorrowful one."

Shelly wrapped Sarah in her arms and whispered, "You shouldn't have had to go through that alone."

"I never even got to hold her. Father took—"

"Father was there?"

"He took her—called her Azazel—it's Hebrew, from the Bible. He said she was sacrificed for my sin. That was eight years ago."

The only sound in the room was the girls weeping. The tension in Sarah's muscles ebbed, like snow melting in the afternoon sun, and she wrapped her arms around Shelly. Locked in one another's embrace, they rocked from side-to-side.

Shelly kissed the top of Sarah's head. "You're not a sinner, you're a victim." she whispered. They were quite again for a few moments and then Shelly asked. "Only father knew?"

"Yes." Sarah looked up. "He went to his grave thinking he'd never see me again."

"Did you know I was conceived out of wedlock?" Shelly asked.

"No."

"What's that verse, 'he who is without sin cast the first stone?'" Shelly looked out the window and pulled Sarah tighter. "Do you need this out in the open? If you do, we can open this window and shout it together for all of Weymouth to hear."

"You'd do that?"

"If that's what you need to heal, absolutely. I love you."

"I wish I could say that, but there's no love inside me."

"That's not true, just look in your writing. So what's it going to be?" Shelly reached for the window latch.

"No. Father's dead, Lorina, Drew, let the past die with me."

Shelly held Sarah at arms length. "Alright, as long as you let me help you."

"I have my writing."

"That's not what I mean. You have to find someone, if not Josh, fine. I just don't want you to wind up like Clifford."

"What do you mean, 'like Clifford?'"

"He's wanted to ask me out for ten years."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah, we're going to the movies tomorrow night."

They laughed, and as the conversation swung to stories about Clifford, they realized that yes, Clifford had always been taken with Shelly. They made a great pair. Shelly worked in the little boutique on Main Street and Clifford was the chief fabricator in a metal shop down the block. If things worked out, they'd be the talk around town for months, maybe years to come.

"Look at the time," Shelly said, getting up from the bed. "I'd feel better if you stayed here tonight."

"I don't know."

"I insist. I'll make pancakes in the morning, just like when we were kids."

"How can I refuse that."

"I'll be right back."

Shelly bounded over the bed and went into her room. Sarah sat down as a pair of black sweats landed on the bed. "I've been saving them for just this occasion. I love you, sleep tight."

"Shell?" Sarah said before the door closed.

"Yeah."

"Will you cut my hair tomorrow?"

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I think I'm ready now."

"Sure. Sleep tight."

The door closed leaving only the faint illumination from the streetlight shining through the window. Sarah pulled the drapes closed. Even in the dark, she was uncomfortable changing. She never undressed except in the confines of her tiny bathroom and then only to shower. Sarah quickly changed, then threw back the drapes and hopped into bed. The wind whistled through the old maple, casting nightmarish shadows on the wall. She clutched the pillow to her chest and rolled over putting the shadows behind her. _If it could only be as easy as Shell said,_ she thought, but she knew it wouldn't be. For a moment she dared to imagine her arms wrapped around Josh. "No, I can't," she whispered, "it's too much to risk."

### Chapter 4

Josh rolled over and slapped the alarm button. _Crap, must have set it out of habit,_ he thought. _Ah, gotta piss anyway._ After a quick trip to the bathroom, Josh put on his favorite, worn jeans and gray sweatshirt, attire that had become his uniform. His Vans eluded him, but he finally spotted them under the edge of Betty's dresser. He never untied them, and as he pushed his foot into the right sneaker, he noticed the dust covered trinkets spread out across Betty's dresser. For twenty-five years he'd never given them a second thought, but today they caught his eye. Most of the little glass sculptures the kids had given their mother for birthdays, Christmas, or Valentines Day. Josh picked up a crystal penguin and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Daddy? Daddy, you okay?" The floor next to his closet creaked as Caitlin walked into the room.

"Hey Missy, remember this?"

Caitlin sat down next to him. "Didn't I give that to mom when I was like in fourth grade? I didn't know she—"

"Yep, your mother kept 'em all." Josh waved his hand toward the dresser. "She was mighty proud of you kids. What are you doing up at this hour?"

"Guess I'm used to getting up for early classes. Can we talk?"

"What's up, problems at school? Eddie tells me he saw some of your work."

Caitlin didn't answer, but rolled her shoulders and twisted her back from side-to-side.

"Knots?"

"Dance is tough. I know there's no future in it, but I really love it."

"What have I always told you kids? Go with your strengths, listen to your heart and the pieces will fall in place."

Caitlin rolled her shoulders again.

"Not like you to hold back, we've always been able to talk." Josh slid up on the bed and started kneading her shoulders.

"What's your heart saying Daddy?"

The question caught Josh by surprise and he momentarily stopped working her shoulders. He knew Caitlin was concerned about him, and they had always been open with each other, but Josh tried to divert her intended subject. "You mean about moving south?"

"No, I mean about Sarah."

Josh got up and put the penguin back in its place. He glanced in the mirror. Caitlin's eyes were fixed on him. "I liked it better when you worked me a little."

"Eddie said—"

"You know he jumps to conclusions. Did I tell you she got a publishing contract?"

"That's wonderful, maybe you two will get a chance to meet."

Josh looked back into the mirror. "That wouldn't be a problem?"

"Why should it be?" Caitlin got up and put her hand on his shoulder. "You and mom will be together again, but there's no reason you have to be alone until then."

Josh turned around. "Feel like Burger King for breakfast? We always had loads of fun."

"Sure, I can't remember the last time I had French toast sticks, and you could always make me laugh singing the 50's stuff." Caitlin looked down at herself. "Give me five minutes, I didn't really dress to go out."

"Hey, it's no big deal, just the two of—"

Caitlin's icy stare cut him off.

"Right, you're a woman now. No matter, you'll always be my baby doll. I'll meet you downstairs." Josh thought better of Caitlin's inquiry by the time she reached the door. 'Missy."

"Yeah Daddy?"

"We're friends."

Caitlin's smile meant she understood. "Okay. Be down in a minute."

Josh waited until Caitlin went into her room before heading downstairs. "Yep, just like old times."

"What's like old times?" Eddie said, looking up from the kitchen table.

"Ed? Pete? What are you two doing up?" Josh recognized the drawings spread out on the table anchored at the corners with beer bottles. "Those mine?" He asked anyway.

"Yeah." Eddie took a swig of stale beer. "You said you didn't mind."

"No, of course not, it's just—well—I'm surprised. I mean you're an engineer and all, but I thought these were just tomfoolery, and Pete, what's up with you?"

"You do these Dad? Peter asked, pointing to a series of equations. "They're gibberish."

"They're crap." Eddie corrected.

Josh prepared for another lecture on wasting his time and money. He didn't mean for his sigh to be audible.

"They're good crap, very convincing, but still crap." Eddie was trying to appease him.

"Afraid I can't take credit for the 'crap', it was on the website."

Both boys nodded and Peter laughed. "Looks like some middle school kid did them."

"That your professional opinion?"

Peter's chair scrapped across the floor with a grating screech. He started to get up, until Eddie spoke.

"Check this one out." Eddie pointed to the equations. "It shows pressure at the nozzles on the outer circumference of the cone, but pressure decreases as a square of the velocity. In other words, if the fluid is pumped through these spiral grooves at say 100 PSI, the pressure would drop every time the diameter doubled. The way it's shown here, there'd be an insignificant amount of pressure."

"Would it make suction?" Josh ventured.

"More like viscosity separation—air bubbles."

Peter scooted up to the table. "Yeah, but check this out." In his usual micro penmanship, he jotted down a formula. "If you reduce the grooved area by fifty percent every time the diameter doubles, pressure remains constant."

"I wouldn't want to manufacture it." Eddie said, sounding annoyed. "Besides, if you want nozzle pressure along the circumference, why use grooves? Why not just pump the fluid through tubing? Why go to all the trouble of a cone?"

Josh could tell the boys were a bit hung-over and this was quickly escalating into another pissing contest. "Something to do with vortexes if I remember correctly." The boys looked toward the steps and Josh noticed motion out of the corner of his eye. "Oh, hey Missy, ready?"

"You look like you're busy."

"Nonsense, let me grab my coat." Josh walked into the foyer.

"I forgot my purse, I'll be right back." Caitlin ran upstairs.

"We're headed up to Burger King, you boys want to come? They're still doing 50's music."

"You kiddin'," Peter said.

"Not the way you two act," Eddie added. "How about bringing back one of those extreme breakfast sandwiches?"

"Same for me."

"Sure." Josh smiled, the argument had been averted.

"Damn beer," Eddie groaned, "gotta' go again." He got up and headed for the downstairs bathroom.

"Eddie said you built one of these." Peter said when the bathroom door closed.

"Yeah."

"You see the date on the drawing? 1972."

"I graduated high school in 72. What if it does what Clem claimed, ran on its own?"

"I don't know the engineering, but mathematically it can't."

"That we agree on," Eddie added. "There's a reason industry went to impellers."

Peter laughed. "Yeah, I can see it now, man builds revolutionary pump from plans found on the Internet." Josh's posture slouched. "Sorry Dad, I mean sure, you could build it, but plans from the Internet?"

"They can't actually be his plans."

"Really?"

Josh caught Peter and Eddie's quick eye contact and knew they were bracing for another one of his history lessons, but he also caught the interest in Eddie's reaction. "Shortly after Clem acquired funding for his research, he mysteriously died of a heart attack. The police, or some claim the FBI, raided his workshop and confiscated all his documentation. They made up some excuse about back taxes. His engine wasn't there though. There are those that say it's buried behind an old barn, still running."

"Yeah, like that's believable." Eddie droned.

Josh continued. "Anyway, the idea just vanished. Couple of his buddies swear he used to drive a 1965 Falcon, powered by his engine, up and down main street on Saturday nights. Over the years, people have tried to contact the family, but they refuse to break their silence. Rumor has it the FBI threatened them."

"Good story." Eddie said.

"I'm ready," Caitlin said, bounding down the stairs.

"You guys sure you won't come?" Josh asked.

"We're good." The boys answered in unison.

"Suit yourself." Josh held the door for Caitlin and they headed out.

* * *

Eddie downed the last swallow of stale beer and stared at the drawings. Peter had turned on Sports Center after Josh and Caitlin left, but was already asleep in front of the television. The word 'vortex' kept going through Eddie's thoughts. Even to this day, vortex theory was kind of a black science. Sure there was an accepted philosophy, but a lot of it was conjecture. For instance, no one could adequately explain how a tornado generated such high wind velocity. It was true that his dad romanticized about past technology, he really believed that solutions to today's problems already existed, and equally true that he could build almost anything he set his mind to. The microwave lawnmower was proof of that. _Could he really be onto something?_ Eddie thought. _He spent money on it._ Josh was generous to a fault, but he was tight when it came to spending money on himself. It was probably the reason he was so innovative. Eddie got up, stretched and thought about bed, but opted for the garage.

After topping off his favorite cup with Dr. Pepper, Eddie headed for the garage. He lingered in the doorway for a moment recalling the happy hours he'd spent in the garage with his dad. Josh seemed, good, almost happy, but he was difficult to read. Eddie set his cup on the bench and uncovered the model. He was surprised to see a kitchen thermometer strapped to the case of the pump. He intended to run the pump longer to see if it generated any significant heat. Eddie flipped on the power, noted the time on his watch, the temperature and sat back. Twenty minutes passed with no appreciable change, but a small leak appeared on one of the pipe fittings. Eddie found a three-eighth inch pipe wrench, however, he loosened the fitting by mistake. In doing so, oil spurt out. "Pressure? That's not right." He retightened the fitting and shut off the priming pump. Once it stopped, he began to disassemble the model. Once apart, he oriented the parts to the charred wooden model examining them for differences.

* * *

An hour later, two car doors slammed out front followed by laughter and giggling in the foyer. Josh draped his arm over Caitlin's shoulders. "Wasn't it something how the manager remembered us after all these years?"

"We were regulars, of course she remembered us." Caitlin dropped the bag on the kitchen table. "Where the boys?"

Josh picked up the remote and turned off the television. "Pete's out, imagine Ed's in the garage. Mind taking him his sandwich, I gotta take a leak."

"Dad!" Caitlin slapped his arm. "That's grose, you shouldn't talk like that in front of a—"

"Lady? Pardon me."

When Josh came out of the bathroom, Caitlin was standing at the garage door. He walked up next to her and peeked into the garage. "Hard at it I see."

"The boys both work so hard, I can't—"

"Whoa, whoa, what were we just talking about? You should be very proud of your accomplishments." Josh reached past her and closed the door.

"You're just going to leave him?"

"No place like the shop for a power nap. He'll be fine." Josh followed Caitlin back toward the kitchen. "So, what do you have on tap today?"

"Courtney and I were talking about hanging out at the mall."

"Gymnastics' Courtney?"

"Yeah, she's home from Penn State."

"Sounds fun. Need any money?"

"I'm good." Caitlin put her coat on. "We have to head back tomorrow."

"I know. Sure been great seeing you kids. I'm real proud of you all. Say, how about we do Olive Garden? Kind of a last hurrah."

"Sounds great. I'll be home by five, or you can call me and I'll meet you there." Caitlin stepped out on the porch and started to pull the door closed.

"Think I'll check email." Josh mumbled.

"Say hello to Sarah." Caitlin winked when Josh turned toward her, blew him a kiss and closed the door.

Josh was embarrassed, the heat radiating from his face was evidence enough. There was no denying it, for some reason emailing Sarah felt like cheating when the kids were home. It didn't make any sense, it never bothered him when Betty was alive. He sat down at the computer and typed in his username and password. There was an email from Sarah. Before opening it, he hit 'compose' and wrote her. It was nothing special, just his normal morning email, but it felt good to be doing that again. He mentioned how proud he was she'd gotten a publishing contract. Of course she'd tried to give him credit because he sent the query, but he wouldn't hear it. Sure, he'd sent the letter. It had become a habit because she was afraid too. It just seemed natural after he finished proofing her work, to write a query, synopsis and send them out. He closed with an apology for not coming to her party and hoped she understood. A click of the mouse opened her latest email. Another opened her picture which brought a smile to his face.

"Damn Dad, that Sarah?" Eddie said.

"Yeah."

"Should I leave you two alone?"

Josh ignored the remark and stated the obvious. "She's Native American."

"No shit Sherlock. So, you two like back on?"

'Back on' could be taken many ways so Josh chose not to answer.

"Did I hear Caitlin say something about dinner?"

"Thought it be nice to have something besides leftover turkey before you all head out tomorrow."

"Sounds great. Mind waking me an hour before you want to leave so I can take a shower?"

"Not a problem." Josh was surprised when Eddie leaned over his shoulder toward the screen.

"So, she sent you a letter," Eddie said after apparently reading her email. "I thought you two were pretty much email only. She raising the stakes?"

"I'll wake you at three-thirty. If we get there early, we'll beat the crowd."

"Right."

* * *

The next morning, Eddie busied himself arranging their luggage in the trunk while Peter, Caitlin and Josh said there goodbyes. He got in behind the wheel before they finished and tooted the horn. "Come on children, traffic's going to be a bitch."

Josh came to the car door while Peter and Caitlin climbed in. "You need gas money?"

"We're good Dad. Listen, I forgot to tell you I changed the polarity on your pump."

"Really."

"A fitting came lose and there was pressure where there should have been suction."

The excitement in Josh's face was obvious. "Does it generate heat?"

"Sort of. It got warm, and definitely took longer to stop when I disconnected the power."

"Then it works."

"No, no way can you construe that as running on it's own."

"I though we were in a hurry," Peter grumbled.

Eddie started the engine. "I took one of your drawings. Figured you wouldn't mind."

"That's fine, but I wouldn't flash it around, don't want to end up wearing concrete boots."

"Right." Eddie dropped it into reverse and eased out of the driveway.

Caitlin rolled down her window and yelled, "See you in a couple of weeks."

"Good luck on your exams."

Eddie looked in the rearview mirror and watched Josh wave until they turned the corner at the bottom of the street.

Caitlin rolled her window up and sat back. "I hate leaving him alone. Do you think he'll ever move south?"

"I mentioned it," Eddie said, "but he didn't seem very interested. Even said he'd miss the snow."

"We'll get him down for some fishin' in the spring," Peter said.

"A little boat time, not bad math boy." Eddie turned south onto Route 29.

Peter popped in the latest Keith Urban CD, hit play and reclined his seat. They were on their way.

Two hours had passed when Caitlin leaned over the front seat and broke Eddie's train of thought. "You okay? Want me to drive?"

"I'm fine. How come you're awake?"

"You think Dad's alright? I mean, I know he like seems okay, but do you think he really is?"

"Did you ask him?"

"Like duh, but you know he says what you want to hear."

"That he does." Eddie glanced over at Peter, still sound asleep in the passenger's seat and lowered his voice. "Something's been bothering me?"

"You? What could possibly bother you? Oh wait—like let me guess, you're talking about that stupid pump, engine thingy again."

"You ever seen Sarah?"

"No stupid, like not even Dad's seen her."

"Not in person smart ass. I saw her picture on the computer."

"You were snooping on Dad's PC?"

"No. Just happened to walk up when he had her picture open." Eddie glanced up in the rearview mirror. "Well?"

"He showed me her picture once, why?" Caitlin said.

"She's—"

"Native Amer—"

"Young," Eddie cut her off, "don't you think?"

"So?"

"I don't know, doesn't it seem kind of weird?"

"They met on the Internet, probably never even knew how old the other was until they were already friends. Besides, she's not that young."

"Maybe." Eddie hit the brakes and pulled in behind an eighteen wheeler as they sped past a Virginia State trooper in the median with radar. "That's like the third one already. Going to be a long trip. So, you think she's using Dad?"

"My God Eddie, eighty? Like it's not Daytona."

"Just keeping up with traffic. You two talk about stuff like that, don't you?"

"You mean feelings?" Caitlin's tone was sarcastic.

Eddie jerked the wheel just to annoy her.

"What the hell?" Peter grumbled without opening his eyes.

"Go back to sleep." Eddie looked in the rearview mirror again. "Why don't you ask Dad how he's _feeling_?"

"Sure, I can do that."

"Asshole!" Eddie yelled as a BMW dove into the space ahead of them and hit the brakes.

### Chapter 5

"Good morning Bev," Josh said as he opened the door.

Bev, the editor from the fourth floor walked into the foyer, hit the elevator button and glanced over at Josh's PC. "How's the writing coming?"

"On my fourth manuscript. No contracts, but you know how that is."

The elevator bell rang and the door opened. "I never would have believed it, in the lobby of a state office building of all places. I made good on our bet, didn't I?" Bev said.

"Sure did." The elevator door started to close. "Have a nice day."

"You too."

A week had passed since the kids returned to school. Josh settled down at his security desk and clicked his email account for the second time that morning. There was another email from Sarah, but for the umpteenth time, she ignored his question about the letter. He opened up his current work in progress and started proofing the last chapter. It was an uneventful day, cloudy, cold, and by evening a light, freezing drizzle was falling. As he crossed the Baltimore beltway on his way home, southbound Interstate 95 became a parking lot. The radio was airing the local traffic report, but Josh wasn't listening. Rush hours like this made his efforts in alternative energy seem futile. _Wouldn't matter if transportation was free,_ he thought, _it'd still take an hour to get home._ He appeased himself with the thought, that at least he might reduce the cost. And who couldn't use a few extra bucks in their pocket? "Idiot!" Josh yelled as a Mercedes SUV cut in front of him. Josh hit the brakes and his old car skidded sideways. _Probably should have a look at those brakes instead of tinkering with that stupid engine._ Josh straightened out and got back in the endless line.

Two hours later, Josh sat at the kitchen table with a bowl of chicken noodle soup. The empty table and dreary day made him feel lonely this particular night so he turned on the television to one of Betty's favorite sitcoms. It was another rerun he'd seen a hundred times. As he ate, he looked down at the lavender letter and the 1953 Canadian penny taped to it. The letter read, 'This is my lucky penny. Please bring it back to me.' It was signed with an elegant stroke, 'Sarah'. Laughter from the television drew his attention. Jill had left a note on her husband Tim's hotrod to lure him out of the garage and into the bedroom. _No,_ Josh thought, _she doesn't mean_ —but it was the second time since Betty's death Sarah had tried to get him to come to Weymouth, first the party and now this. Loneliness let him imagine.

* * *

A fat hand with stubby fingers snatched the paper out from under Eddie's pencil. Eddie didn't look up.

"You find this boring, yes?" The professor's thick Polish accent didn't mask his annoyance. "What grade did you achieve on the last examination?"

"Eight-five percent," Eddie said, looking up. "Second best in the class."

"You would settle for second best?" Dr. Chudnovsky took the paper with him as he started toward the head of the class.

"Shit!" Eddie grumbled.

"It is not shit as you say, merely second best. Now, where were we?"

Eddie sat up at his desk as several classmates snickered. Thermal and fluid dynamics wasn't considered the hardest graduate degree for nothing, and he certainly didn't need the distraction going into finals. Still, Josh's equations were puzzling. Through the remainder of the lecture, Eddie struggled to stay focused. To make it worse, last night's marathon study session was catching up with him.

"Mr. Smith, class is dismissed."

"Oh yeah," Eddie said, snapping out of a daze, "I was just finishing up my notes."

"Of course you were. Would you join me at the board?"

Eddie glanced around the empty classroom. _I must have dozed_ , he thought. As an undergraduate, Eddie was known in the department for being outspoken, and it had sometimes come at a cost, but even so, he managed a 3.6 GPA and if you threw out his freshman 'party semester' it was a 3.85. He reminded himself to hold his tongue as he set his book bag on the corner of Dr. Chudnovsky's desk. "That looks familiar."

"You recognize, yes?"

"It's my equation."

"Your equation." Dr. Chudnovsky chuckled. "It is mathematical equation for vortex, hardly yours. You are second best in class, no? How is it you wish to work on vortex when you have not mastered current material?"

"I was messing around with it over the holidays, with my father."

"Ah, father is engineer? Scientist? Perhaps physicist?"

"A writer actually."

"Ah, a dreamer. You understand?"

"Yes sir."

"Good."

Eddie intentionally left his book bag and followed Dr. Chudnovsky to the door. "I forgot my books," Eddie said when they reached the door. "Go ahead sir, I'll lock up."

Dr. Chudnovsky hesitated for a moment. "We will examine vortex theory next semester. You will learn then."

"I've got a head start, maybe I'll be number one."

"Perhaps you will. Yes, that would be very appropriate. Good day."

Eddie waited until he left, then erased the board. It felt stupid, but he figured why flash it around. When he was finished, he headed for the library.

It was a bright, December afternoon, sunglasses weather, but Eddie had been in South Carolina long enough that fifty degrees felt cool. As he vaulted up the steps, skipping every other one, he heard a familiar voice.

"Edward, how nice to see you."

"Hey Dr. Beasley."

"How's Thermal going?"

"Kickin' my ass sir."

"Really?" Dr. Beasley stroked his small, white, bearded chin. "Dr. Chudnovsky and I were just talking about you."

"I managed to avoid his class as an undergrad, but he chewed me a new one this morning."

Dr. Beasley chuckled. "I wouldn't worry about 'The Mad Pole', they still call him that, don't they?"

"Yes sir."

"He likes to flex his muscles with the bright students."

"Thanks."

"So tell me, how's the family?"

"Peter's a junior this year."

"Is that right. Still carrying a 4.0?"

"He switched to mathematics, but still perfect."

"Remarkable."

"Matter of fact, my sister, Caitlin, is a freshman."

"That's wonderful. Clemson is all about tradition and it certainly sounds like it's become a part of the Smith's tradition. Caitlin? Caitlin Smith, where have I seen that name?"

"Probably in the library."

"The artist. Yes, of course. Your parents must be very proud of you all."

"Yes sir." It was awkward not mentioning his mother, but Eddie didn't want to deal with the uncomfortable exchange.

"Well," Dr. Beasley said to someone behind Eddie, "look who's here. We were just talking about your parents."

Eddie caught Peter's eye before he said anything. "Ready to hit the books?"

Peter nodded.

"Well, I guess we better get to it. Nice to see you Dr. Beasley."

"Look at the time," Dr. Beasley said, nudging his sleeve up to glance at his watch. "I've got class in five minutes. You know how it is, if I'm not there right on time, some of the students dodge class."

"Freshman," Eddie called after Dr. Beasley. "what are you going to do?" When he turned around, Peter had already gone into the library. Eddie followed, grabbed two sodas from the machine and joined him.

"Sorry about the little thing with Dr. Beasley. Here, I got you a Dr. Pepper."

Peter popped the top, took a sip and looked over at Eddie. "Why? He knew mom, why not say something?"

Eddie shrugged the question off and changed the subject. "So, how's it going?"

"Honestly?"

"Sure, why not."

"Truth is, I'm having trouble concentrating since mom passed."

"You better not," Eddie said, punching Peter's shoulder, "mom will come down here and kick your ass if you let your grades slip."

"Thanks, like I need any more pressure." Peter turned back to his studying.

Eddie looked around the library. It was easy to tell the end of the semester was approaching, the place was crammed. Freshman were easy to spot, alone and struggling, sophomores with their headphones trying to look confident, at least the juniors were smart enough to study in groups. Of course, the seniors had the prime spots. Eddie opened his book bag and started in. The next two hours flew past. Through the course of studying, Eddie kept thinking about Peter's response. Eddie worked hard, probably harder than Peter, but he never had the pressure of perfection. He glanced up from his book, but Peter was gone.

"Had to take a leak," Peter said as he plopped back down in his chair.

"So Pete, you going to nail another 4.0 this semester?"

"I doubt it after this afternoon."

"What happened?"

"The teacher caught me messing around with Dad's damn equation. Said I should concentrate on what we were learning and not get ahead of myself."

"Really." Eddie laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"Same thing happened to me." Eddie took a swig of Dr. Pepper. "What do you have for electives next semester?"

"I'm still trying for a minor, so a couple of business classes."

"Drop one and take kayaking."

"Why would I do that? I have no interest in kayaking."

"Exactly, if you have no interest in it, you don't have to perfect it. Skip classes or hell, don't go at all. Break the 4.0 so you can enjoy the rest of college."

"What about mom coming down to kick my ass?"

"There is that, but I think she'd understand." Eddie took another drink. "So, the equation, you come up with anything?"

"Seriously?" Peter pulled out a note pad and set it down on the table between them. "I changed all the letters. Last time we worked on this, all you could see was the damn engineering stuff. No engineering equations, just math."

"So you're saying, I can't see the forest for the trees. Go on."

Peter circled an equation. "Take a look at this."

"Okay, looks reasonable. How'd you—"

"I extracted it out of this." Peter flipped the page over to a lengthy equation.

"Impressive. Maybe that brain of yours is enough, math boy." Eddie couldn't resist the dig. "So, taking care of the car?"

"Yeah, as a matter of fact, I am. Check the rear tire once a week, check the oil at every fill up, and check the washer fluid."

"Damn boy, almost responsible."

"It wasn't my fault about Dad's old Chevy. He told me to put a cup of water in it."

"If I recall, he said, 'use a cup to put water in it.'"

"What's the difference?"

"A cracked engine block."

"I got a Stealth out of it."

"Ah yes, the ultimate high school penis car. Of course you'd have ended up with Dad's Olds if I hadn't pushed for the Stealth."

"So what about the equation?"

"That's right," Eddie nodded, "you know when you're beat."

"The equation?"

"I don't know. I need to plug the engineering back in to see if we can apply it. What are you doing for dinner?"

"Cafeteria I guess." They both looked toward the windows. "Crap, it's dark." Peter glanced down at his watch. "Harcombe closed half an hour ago."

"Tell you what. Why don't we head over to my place and continue with the equation. I'll swing by your car and you can follow me. We can hit Burger King on the way."

"Sure, mind if we go by my dorm first?"

"After you."

The dorm was jumping with freshman determined to flunk out. Eddie thought back to his freshman year while he waited out front, he'd have been right up there with them. As Peter slid down the railing to the sidewalk, a water balloon came flying out of the fifth floor window, hit a tree branch and showered Eddie.

"Idiots!" Eddie yelled up at the window.

Wilson, Peter's roommate, appeared at the window. "Running off with big brother?"

"You better study," Peter yelled, "or not even your Daddy will be able to keep you enrolled."

"Incoming!" Wilson yelled as a barrage of water balloons came flying over his shoulders.

Eddie and Peter dodged the worst of it, but two coeds coming down the front steps took a direct hit. Their tee-shirts melted into a translucent second skin that left nothing to the imagination. Peter's wolf-whistle chased them back inside.

"Grow up," Eddie said, punching Peter on the arm. "Show a little respect."

"Like you're some kind of expert?"

"Let's go."

"Just like that, we're going to let Wilson get away with it?" Peter followed Eddie to his car.

Eddie popped the trunk and climbed in behind the wheel. "Grab what's in the trunk?"

Peter ran around the back and hopped in the passengers seat with Eddie's paintball gun.

"You know how to use it?"

"I remember."

"It loaded?"

Peter popped the top of the reservoir and looked in. "Purple. Sweeeeet." He rolled down his window as Eddie pulled up out front of the dorm. "Wilson!" Peter yelled.

"Dude!" Wilson appeared at the window pounding his bare chest like King Kong.

Peter opened up with a flurry of purple paintballs. To their surprise, Wilson jutted his chest forward and took the barrage. Eddie spotted security in the rearview mirror and trounced on the gas. Peter dropped back inside as they sped off.

"Awesome dude!" Wilson hollered.

Peter tossed the gun in the backseat and rolled up the window. "He's going to look like a bruised tomato."

Eddie skidded to a stop in front of Peter's car. "Forgotten how to have fun? I don't think so."

An hour later, Eddie tossed his paper on the coffee table with disgust. He'd been working backwards through Peter's calculations to reinsert the engineering characters. Peter glanced over from his video game.

"This is stupid." Eddie got up from the sofa. "I can't believe I fell for another one of Dad's harebrained ideas. There's no way the equation works."

"Of course it does."

"Listen math boy, just because the math works, doesn't mean the engineering—" Eddie stopped as the absurdity of what he was saying registered. "Guess that was the dumbest thing I ever said."

"Pretty close. Damn!" Peter complained. "I can't get past this freakin' level. Every single time, the damn Panzer gets me. It's impossible."

"It's a program, not reality. Two clicks to the right, two to the left, whatever and you'll get it. You can't play like it's reality."

"Maybe that's the way you should approach the equation." Peter tapped the reset and started the level over.

Eddie didn't like to admit when Peter was right, but maybe he had a point. For another hour he worked the equation. Finally it got so tangled up, he had to stop and do something he even liked less than admitting Peter was right, ask for help. "So Pete, got a minute?"

"What's up?"

"I think I'm onto something but—"

"Sure, I'll help." Peter hit pause, set the controller on the floor and turned around.

"See this, it solves for pressure, but the original solves for velocity."

"You have been busy, I'm impressed."

"Don't patronize me."

"No, seriously." It took a couple more iterations but they finally got the equation in the form Eddie wanted.

"You see what I see?" Eddie said.

"Sure, the equation still works no matter how you twist it around."

"Right, but look, pressure generates velocity in the cone which generates heat, and the heat makes more pressure increasing velocity. If you put a load on it, more heat resulting in greater velocity."

"It's a loop, like solving for infinity."

"Yeah, but instead of infinity, it generates power." Eddie said.

"You mean it works?"

Eddie looked at Peter and nodded. "We better call Dad."

Peter looked down at his watch. "You kidding, it's past his bedtime. Besides he said he wasn't working on it anymore."

"Right, and you don't think Kelly's hot."

### Chapter 6

Josh's heart was still racing from the boys phone call. He was excited about the possibilities and proud they'd put their competitive natures aside and worked together. The lights flickered as though they would come on, but the blackout continued. It had turned into one of the most sever ice storms since 1999. Josh frowned, the power that year was off for three days. Despite Eddie's warning, Josh thought he new how to proceed and was anxious to give it a try. For now, though, the ice storm was in control.

His ideas about what he'd found on the Internet weren't exactly correct, but he felt vindicated. Nevertheless, a troubling thought gnawed at him. Was Eddie correct? Was the information on the website intentionally misleading? And if so, why and by whom? Josh didn't believe in all the conspiracy theories even though the history of alternative power took on that aura. He figured it was just the conspiracy folks twisting the stories. Still, Eddie's warning went beyond the danger of unknown territory directly to keeping it secret.

With the temperature in the house falling, Josh pulled up his blanket and stared into the fire. How ironic was it that Betty had insisted they get gas logs incase they lost power. As he rested his hands on his stomach, he thought about Sarah's letter. How could he meet her? Sure he'd lost twenty pounds, but he still had that middle-age spread. He was old enough to be her father and the notion that they could be anymore than friends was ridiculous. Then there was his belly. Josh fell asleep feeling old, ugly and used up.

About one o'clock in the morning, Josh woke to the flickering light of a thunderstorm on the television. The power was back on. It was an old black and white film. Dr. Frankenstein was hoisting his creation up through an opening in the roof of his lab. With typical Hollywood flair, he appeared wild, crazed over his impending breakthrough. The movie broke for a commercial, not just any commercial, a Victoria's Secret commercial. Josh's excitement over the invention combined with his loneliness drove him to act impetuously. He went straight to the computer and wrote Sarah an email. After he hit send, he spent the next hour altering his blueprint. Finally, with soda and drawing in hand, he headed for the garage.

The remainder of the night flew by as Josh labored over the lathe. Sure, wood wasn't practical, it might not even work based on the previous outcome, but he had to try. Hours later, covered in sawdust, Josh pushed back from the lathe and slowly straightened his arthritic back. When the lathe stopped spinning, he removed the cone he'd been turning and set it next to the housing on the bench. With the bearings from the previous wooden model, he felt he had enough for a test. Oblivious to the sawdust in his cup, he drank the last of his watery soda. "Damn, I gotta pee."

As Josh relieved himself, he stared out the bathroom window beyond a sea of shinny, grass needles, to the Norwegian Spruces, drooping under their heavy coat of ice. He noticed his reflection in the mirror as he washed his hands, and how his sawdust covered hair made him look like the movie's Dr. Frankenstein. In the kitchen, he poured another diet root beer still resisting the urge to check email. _Did I really tell her how I feel?_ He thought. _What an idiot, it'll only lead to disappointment, or worse._ Josh shook off checking email and returned to the garage.

* * *

Sarah poured a cup of coffee and sat down at her computer. She'd been putting him off, refusing to elaborate on her letter, for over a week. Her email account came up and she saw his latest attempt titled 'RE: I want to meet my muse'. _God,_ Sarah thought, _that's the one I wrote, 'I won't bite, promise.' I'm such a harlot._ She took a sip of coffee. _He'll say no, he has to, he's on a single income now, he has three children in college, he can't afford to fly off to Nova Scotia on a whim. Yes, he'll say no and we'll be done with this idiocy. The email is just to say he's mailing my penny back._ Sarah positioned the cursor, closed her eyes and double clicked. She peeked, then opened her eyes and read;

'We had an ice storm last night, so I imagine you'll have snow today. Needless to say, I'm not going anywhere at the moment. About going somewhere, are we? I'm old enough—well, to be your father, but I don't feel that way about you. I don't know what to say, how to respond. Am I reading too much into your invitation?'

Sarah sat back, momentarily paralyzed by the line, 'I don't feel that way about you'. _What did he feel? Have I led him on—no._ She shook her head and mumbled, "I didn't—did I?" Intimacy flashed though her thoughts momentarily. To feel like a woman, his breath on her skin and his arms—to be in his arms. But the fantasy vanished with the nightmare of 'that night'. Sarah's head drooped into her hands. "This can't happen," she whispered, "it can never happen. God, what have I done? What have I done?" Suddenly she jerked up and shouted, "You're such a bitch!"

"Good morning to you too."

"Shell! God, you scared me, I didn't hear you come in."

"I swear, I haven't told a soul. I gave you my word." Shelly took off her coat and laid it over the back of the sofa. "A bitch, huh, don't think you've ever called me that."

"No—oh God no, I didn't mean you. I'm the bitch." Sarah tried, but a tear escaped beginning a flood.

"What's all this?" Shelly caught her before she sank to her chair.

"You were right about me—the way I've been hiding, but I can't, I just can't."

Shelly pulled Sarah against her shoulder and hugged her. They dipped toward the computer for a moment, then Shelly asked, "Is he?"

"Is he what?"

"Reading too much into it?" Shelly pushed Sarah's head back and looked into her eyes. "I take it from the email that you decided to reach out, that's wonderful."

Sarah pulled away and turned her back. "No, it's not. I tried, but I made a mess of it and now it's over."

Shelly slipped her hand into Sarah's and led her over to the sofa. "I doubt it."

"I thought about what you said that night. When I got home, without thinking mind you, I mailed Josh my lucky penny with a note asking him to bring it back."

"The 1953, how sweet."

"It seemed like it, but not now." Sarah glanced up. "I don't even care if I get the penny back, I just don't want to lose—he's married, has children my age."

"I understand."

Sarah got up and turned her back. _'I understand.' How could she?_ Sarah took another deep breath trying to hold back even more tears. She had made a mess of it and now it was over. It would be okay, she got along before Josh, she'd learn to manage again. Sarah suddenly felt alone and turned around. "Don't you dare!"

"I'm just looking at his last email, swear." Shelly said from behind the computer screen. "It looks to me like he's just scared, confused. He says he cares about you like a daughter, but doesn't know how he feels."

"I don't know what I was thinking, I should have never sent the letter—was that the email chime?"

"Just spam," Shelly said, but lingered at the computer a moment before getting up.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I deleted it." Shelly sat down with Sarah and took her hands. "What you did was sweet, innocent—"

"It didn't feel innocent, it felt like I was propositioning him."

"Weren't you?"

Sarah shook her head. "Not like that."

"Be honest. Didn't you hope, deep down, that he'd come sweep you up in his arms?"

Sarah continued to shake her head.

"Listen Sarah, you've been locked away since—well, you've been locked away for almost eight years. And Josh, he's been married for what, twenty—"

"Five, twenty-five years."

"My point is that you two are immature when it comes to this stuff."

"You're wrong, we're writers, we write _stuff_ like this all the time."

"Write!" Shelly laughed. "Writing has nothing to do with living it, the excitement, the vulnerability, the raw emotion and fear of opening up to someone?"

Sarah turned her head hoping to hide what she was sure was a blush.

Shelly caught her cheek and turned her face back to hers. "Do you love him?"

Panic took Sarah's breath for a moment. "We're close, but love?"

"Do you think he loves you?"

Sarah shrugged.

"You're not sure. And how are you ever going to be sure if you don't meet?"

Sarah shrugged again.

"Exactly, you can't." Shelly yanked her coat off the back of the sofa and started toward the door.

"You just got here."

"My work here is done." In dramatic style, Shelly swung her coat over her shoulders like a cape and opened the door. "On some level, you two know you love each other. Nothing's ever perfect, but there's a lot of happiness out there. Let the past be the past, draw a line in the sand, however you want to say it, just stop living in the past." Shelly stepped out on the porch and before closing the door said, "Read your email."

Sarah glanced at the computer screen, then leaned over the back of the sofa and opened the drapes. Shelly waved, got in her mini van, then drove away. A smile filled Sarah's face as she noticed it was starting to snow. Josh was right again. Sarah slid back down on the sofa. When she and Josh had first started emailing, Josh always made a big deal about the weather going between them. They'd even exchanged local websites with weather cams. The weather had become a way of bringing them closer. "Stop living in the past," she mumbled, repeating the phrase until she was standing at the computer. It was an email from Josh, but the title simply read, 'hey', no hint of what it contained. It had been opened, so Shelly had obviously read it. "What if it says no? What if it says yes?" Sarah moved the cursor over the email, but couldn't push the button.

The phone rang, but she was still frozen. The answering machine picked up. Clifford was looking for Shelly so they could go out for lunch. "It's just an email." Sarah whispered. "Just an email, my ass." She turned around and leaned against the edge of the desk. "This is ridiculous." Sarah flipped her hair back and came face-to-face with her reflection in the curio cabinet, crossed legs, hands tucked under her arms to prevent them from trembling, she might as well be in a fetal position. "You're pathetic." she said to her reflection. "Look at you." Sarah turned around, plopped down in the chair and double clicked Josh's email.

'There's daily flights to Halifax. I thought I could book a flight this Friday, it gets in around 10:00 AM. Are you sure?'

Sarah hit reply and typed with the enthusiasm of a school girl, 'Sure? You bet I'm sure. This is so exciting. I'll pick you up at the gate, we can go sight seeing, maybe a carriage ride, supper. It'll be wonderful. You were right again, it's snowing, so dress warm.' She clicked send still repeating to herself, "Stop living in the past. Stop living in the past." _I did it, I really did it._ She was still sitting at the computer when Josh's reply rang the chime.

'Wow! I can't believe we're finally going to do it! (lol) Seriously, I just came in from the garage and saw your email. The boys came up with something on the engine and I worked through the night. I'll tell you all about it when I SEE you. Can you believe it, SEE you! The flight arrives Friday, Gate 9 at 9:00 AM. Weird about all the nines, huh? I'll book the flight as soon as I send this. SEE you Friday.'

"See you," Sarah repeated and then smiled. "Oh my God! The picture!"

* * *

Homeland Security Agent Derrick Corp tightened the silencer and flipped off the safety. His body was tingling with adrenaline. He took an eager breath and kicked open the door.

"You!" Martinez jumped up from the table.

Corp squeezed off a round, but Martinez didn't react. "Not a sound," Corp said, glancing at the voluptuous redhead sitting on the bed. He turned back to Martinez and kicked the door closed behind him.

Martinez stared down at the growing blood stain on his shirt. "You should have paid asshole. You'll be sorry."

Corp flashed his badge.

"Police?"

"Gut shot is a slow death, a painful death. While I can appreciate the agony, I don't have time." Corp's second shot hit Martinez between the eyes, sending him crashing backward over his chair. Corp turned to the redhead.

"He forced me. Please! He said he would kill me if I didn't do what he said."

Corp unscrewed the silencer and dropped it in his pocket. "Alright Linda, I just want you to squeeze the grip."

"You know my name?"

"Of course, I'm a cop remember?" Corp's eyes were locked on Linda's as he wrapped her fingers around the pistol grip.

"I could have shot you."

"No, you couldn't."

"The pistol was pointed right at your chest."

"There are doers and spectators. You're a spectator, you have no control over what happens to you." Corp's gaze traced over her accentuated bosom, lingering at her crotch where her dress had ridden up.

Linda glanced down at herself. "Don't shoot." she said and slowly stood.

Corp's gaze followed her hands as she slowly peeled off her skin tight cocktail dress. Bunched, the elastic material took considerable effort to push over her hips. Her breasts were full, round, erect, a small scar below each nipple explained the perkiness. Corp nodded, more out of amusement than appreciation at her lace thong in the shape of a peace sign.

"You like?" she said, sliding her hand under the sheer fabric, folding it over on itself. "Oh my." Her surprise was as fake as she was. She slowly put her hand on his gloved hand and steered the gun toward the nightstand. "You don't need that."

Corp remained expressionless as she sat down and began messaging his crotch. He never flinched as she undid his pants and started fondling him, but the slight quiver in her upper lip before she took him in her mouth brought a slight grin. He loved the groveling, the feeling of absolute power. She was already dead, she just didn't know it. As he approached orgasm, he grabbed the scruff of her neck, pulling off her fiery wig. He tossed it over Martinez's body and yanked her to her feet. "Is anything about you real?" Corp grabbed her left breast and squeezed.

"I'm brunette," she whimpered. Her trembling fingers quickly yanked out the bobby pins that secured her hair. "Take me," she said, looking down at his erection obviously trying to sound wanton.

"I intend to." Corp threw her face first on the bed and ripped off her thong. He leaned over and drove his penis into her. Her moans of pleasure were well practiced, but did little to compensate for her street-worn vagina. It didn't matter, taking her life was all the aphrodisiac Corp needed. As he approached orgasm again, he took a syringe from his coat pocket. Holding it in his right hand, his thumb over the plunger, and rammed it into her butt-cheek as he came.

Linda's squeal was likely her first sincere uttering. She crawled to the middle of the bed and looked back at the syringe. "Wh—wh—why?"

"Did you really think I'd let you extort an oil executive? Did you?" Corp flipped her over on her back, breaking off the needle in her ass cheek, and drug her to the edge of the bed. Linda's eyes were already glazed, her body going limp. "Did you seriously think Mr. Wallis would just pay you?" Corp grabbed her by the throat and pulled her up until they were face-to-face. "It's trash like you that undermines the moral decency of our great country. I'm a federal Agent, that's right bitch, not a two bit D.C. cop, a Fed! I get rid of garbage like you everyday." Corp's cell phone rang and he dropped her on the bed. She was gagging, choking, her throat bruised from his iron grip.

Corp flipped open his cell phone. "Corp...yes sir." He glanced over at Martinez's body. "The case is closed sir, just wrapping up the lose ends... Yes sir, everything is under control... I'm sorry sir, did you say the private sector?... I see... yes sir. That was Assistant Secretary Goff.... Very well sir, I'll be there directly." Corp hung up the phone, glanced down at his watch, then fastened his pants. "It can't be that easy you know," he said. "You can't just die, you have to pay." He picked up the pistol and started beating Linda. Half a dozen, a dozen blows, bloodied her face and the sheets. "Damn!" Corp complained at her lack of resistance, "I waited too long. Good thing you killed the bastard before the overdose kicked in." Corp picked up the room phone and dialed 911. "There's been a shooting." He set the receiver down next to the phone, stepped outside, closed the door, then peeled back his gloves and calmly walked to his car.

* * *

Corp stepped into the outer office and announced himself to the secretary. "Agent Corp reporting as requested."

"Have a seat, Mr. Goff is finishing up a conference call."

The ornate, cherry door to Mr. Goff's office was partially open. The brass plaque read, 'Department of Homeland Security Assistant Secretary of Information Analysis'. Beyond the door, Corp could see part of a massive cherry desk obviously meant to impress. Although Corp had never met Mr. Goff, to his way of thinking, the big desk was probably to compensate for a 'little man' syndrome. On the desk, prominently placed in the center, a brass name plate, 'Assistant Secretary Howard Goff'. The mention of Mr. Wallis, as if he were part of the call, heightened Corp's curiosity. As he leaned forward to listen, the buzzer on the secretary's desk went off.

"The Assistant Secretary will see you now," she said.

Corp got up, smoothed out his shirt and walked into the office. As expected, a plump baldheaded man greeted him from behind the desk. He looked surprised.

"I came in off of an undercover assignment." It was not offered as an apology or an excuse, merely information regarding his attire.

"I understand you handled the case brilliantly. Mr. Wallis was very pleased."

"Thank you, Mr. Assistant Secretary." Corp smiled as Goff stood to shake hands. He was maybe five foot eight.

"Ah yes, already greasing the wheels. Mr. Goff will do. Have a seat." Mr. Goff returned to his seat behind the desk and pulled out a manila folder. "You've advanced quickly. It speaks well of your ability."

"Thank you, sir." Corp tried to contain his enthusiasm. The fact that Mr. Goff had his personnel record could mean another promotion.

"No problems?"

"No sir, I'm sure the D.C. police will find it was a drug related homicide."

"Another airtight case then." Mr. Goff pushed the intercom button on his phone. "Judy, hold my calls."

The outer office door closed and out of the corner of his eye, Corp noticed Judy go to the bar.

"Martini?" Mr. Goff offered.

"Whiskey, if you have it."

"Ah yes, my mistake. The good agents all drink Whiskey." Mr. Goff glanced back down at the folder. "I see you're not married. Are you involved?"

"No sir." Corp's enthusiasm was growing. Questions about an agent's personal obligations inevitably led to positions with greater risk, which meant more power. Corp took his drink from the secretary.

"Thank you Judy, that will be all." Mr. Goff waited until the door closed. "Gay?"

"No."

"I didn't think so." Mr. Goff took a sip of his martini, then cleared his throat. "I'm sure you realize that there's more to homeland security than the threat of terrorism. Probably the greatest threat is to our economy. In fact, the financial threat to corporate America has far greater consequences than say a 9/11 attack."

Corp took a gulp of his drink as Mr. Goff set his personnel folder aside and thumbed though a different one. Was it another agent's personnel folder? A partner? Corp preferred to work alone, a partner stymied his creativity. Why was Mr. Goff going on about America's financial interests?

Mr. Goff slid the folder to the edge of his desk. "Inside this folder, you'll find an activity log from one of our Internet catch-sites."

Corp's disappointment was almost audible as he reached for the folder.

Mr. Goff pulled it back. "Perhaps your accomplishments are over stated."

"No sir, I assure you they are not. May I speak openly sir."

"You know nothing of this case, but if you must." Mr. Goff sat back looking perturbed.

"I appreciate your offer sir, but sifting through paperwork and monitoring Internet traffic, well, isn't that better left to the geeks? I'm better suited for—"

"Afraid your gun will rust?"

"No sir, I just feel I'm better suited for—"

"You do realize the more prominent cases are handled with careful manipulation not marksmanship?"

"Like the Wallis case?" Corp gulped down the last of his Whiskey, but could feel Mr. Goff's glare. He'd pushed his button. A bigger man would have thrown him out, confronted him; but weasels like Goff, were afraid of men like Corp. When Corp lowered his glass, Mr. Goff was on the phone. Corp tried to contain his grin. _Ah yes, the indirect approach,_ he thought. _Do I really want to work for this guy?_

"Good evening sir... I have Agent Corp in my office, he seems completely unprepared for such a case..."

Who are you calling unprepared.

"No sir, I'm sure I can find a more suitable agent...."

Corp sat up in the chair. Whatever this was, he wasn't about to lose the opportunity. He reached over and snagged the folder off Mr. Goff's desk. In doing so, he noticed Mr. Goff's finger on the receiver. _Nicely played._ Corp sat back and opened the folder.

"Very well sir, I understand, it's my call. Have a good evening sir." Mr. Goff cradled the phone as he played out the end of his charade. He turned his attention to Corp. "You'll see several highlighted entries on the first page by a Josh Smith."

"Aren't these 'catch sites' just misinformation?" Corp flipped through several similar pages. "It seems the geeks have been busy, but this Josh seems like just another quack."

"You'll notice a picture clipped to the inside, back of the folder."

Corp turned to the last page and uncovered a picture of a makeshift carburetor on a lawnmower engine. "A quack and a machinist."

"Mr. Smith claims to have built a lawnmower that uses microwaves to convert water to steam."

"Great, any day now I'll be hopping out on the freeway in my steam powered SUV. Hello 1920s." Corp glanced over the folder toward Mr. Goff. His expression was placid, but his face was red.

"And suppose everyone was going out to hop in their steam powered SUVs?"

"I see your point." Corp conceded.

Mr. Goff stood as if to dismiss him. "I expect to be kept informed."

"Very well sir." Corp tucked the folder under his arm and then set his glass on the bar. "I'll see myself out."

"Ms. Ambrose will see you to your new office. Welcome to the Private Sector Agent Corp."

Corp eyed Judy's hips wondering what it would take to get in her pants, as he followed her down the empty, marble hallway. It was a good start to the week, sex, death, a new assignment, and Goff might prove interesting.

### Chapter 7

Josh tossed two pairs of jeans on the counter with a feeling of accomplishment. "Imagine me buying clothes," he mumbled.

"Excuse me?" The sales clerk asked.

"Oh, sorry, I haven't bought clothes in a while."

The sales clerk eyed him up and down as if to imply it was obvious. "Will that be cash or credit?"

Josh paid with his credit card and headed out into the mall, decked out in all its holiday splendor. A miniature Christmas town, constructed over the north fountain, was ringed with a line of children impatiently waiting for their turn to see Santa. _Ah yes_ , he thought, _those were the days. I wonder where Betty kept those pictures. I'll have to look for them when I get home._ He managed to bypass the ice cream parlor, the confectioners, the Boardwalk Fries, even the pizzeria, and settled for a salad. His enthusiasm over the engine test had been shoved to the back of his mind by the anticipation of meeting Sarah. As he sat there eating, he realized that he hadn't told the kids about his plans. His first inclination was to call Caitlin, and although he hesitated, he placed the call. After several rings, he started to hang up.

"Hi Daddy."

"Oh, hey Missy, how are you?" Josh covered his other ear as a mother wheeled a crying baby past.

"Busy."

"I won't keep you then—"

"Don't hang up. I'm sorry, I'm right in the middle of a painting. You don't just call, is something wrong?"

"Actually, quite the opposite."

"Really, I could use some good news."

Josh tossed the rest of his salad in the trashcan and walked over to a quieter part of the food court. "Problems?"

"No, nothing like that, I'm just swamped. Creativity on demand sucks. So what's your news?"

"I um—well, I'm going—no, I wondered if you'd mind—"

"Out with it Daddy, what's got your tongue tied?"

"This part of you is new for me."

"What part is that?"

"The cut the bull, get to the point. Almost sounds like Eddie."

"Not funny. I'm trying to juggle the cell phone, a pallet and a paintbrush. Speak to me."

"I just wanted to let you know I'm planning a little trip."

"A trip, that's wonderful, where to?"

Josh gulped down a mouthful of soda and chose the indirect route. "Canada." There was no reply. "Caitlin, you there?"

"Sorry, the phone slipped. Did you say Cancun, like the Caribbean?"

"Canada."

"Sarah's! That's like awesome."

"Really? You're okay with it?"

"Of course. It sounds spontaneous, exiting, cold!"

"Right on all three counts. You sure you're—"

"As long as you're back before we get home for Christmas break."

"You all are done, what, Wednesday?"

"That was the original plan, but Eddie said he's blowing off his Wednesday class. They wanted to leave right after my Saturday final, but it's late in the day and I said no way, I'm not sleeping in the car all night. They seem anxious to get home, not that I'm not. They so don't want to be seen in my bug, so we're taking Eddie's car again."

"So when are you getting home?"

"Sunday. We're going to leave early so we should get there around lunchtime.

"Thanks baby doll, it means a lot that you're okay with me going."

"Of course I am. Listen, my brush is drying. Say high to Sarah for me. I hope I get to meet her one of these days. See ya."

Josh dropped the phone in his pocket and headed for the exit. The ride south was predictable with congestion around Route 32, and twenty minutes later he turned into his driveway. On his way to the mailbox, he noticed a black van parked around the corner, in front of the Carnahana's. As he unlocked the front door, it occurred to him that the van had been there the previous night and possibly the night before that. He glanced back before going inside. _I wonder if someone's casing the Carnahana's,_ he thought remembering they were away on their annual holiday trip to Puerto Rico. _Wonder if I should call the police?_

Josh went upstairs to finish packing. He tossed his new jeans on the bed then went down the hall to Eddie's old room for an overnight bag. Before he turned on the light, he noticed the van again. He eased up next to the window and pushed open a space in the blinds to get a closer look. The glare from the corner streetlight made it impossible to make out any detail. Then he spotted his video camera on the bed, but even using the camera's night vision, the van's dark glass made it impossible to tell if anyone was inside, however the windshield was fogged. Josh took a minute to put the camera on a tripod, then connected it to the VCR. If there was someone inside, if they did anything, he would capture it on tape.

Back downstairs, Josh flipped through the channels searching in vein for a distraction. There was nothing on network television, the History channel was airing a show on conspiracies, and the country music channel was doing the countdown. The last two only fueled his emotional torrent. First and foremost there was Sarah, then the prototype actually worked, the impending holidays and of course, now the mysterious van. A tender country music video refocused Josh's thoughts on Sarah for a moment. He was trying not to get ahead of himself, after all it was just a chance to meet; but resist as he might, his expectations were growing.

Early in their relationship, Josh made the mistake of telling Sarah he loved her. She freaked, actually blocked his email for awhile when he tried to cover by saying it was all a joke. After that, he managed to convince her he meant he loved her like a friend. After all, friendship was better than nothing. Even though he was the giver in a give and take relationship, he'd never have left Betty. There were the kids and that was enough to keep Josh faithful to the end. Hard to believe the end came so soon. "Damn!" Josh said, jumping up from his chair. "I didn't get her a gift." He glanced down at his watch. "Holiday hours, the mall has holiday hours. I can still make it."

* * *

It had been an hour since Josh went to bed, and as he tossed and turned, he remembered the camcorder. Without turning on the lights, he went to Eddie's room. As the tape rewound, he glanced through the blinds. The van was still there. Once the tape stopped, Josh hit play and fast forward. The digital clock raced forward with only an occasional car speeding past as one of the neighbors returned home from holiday shopping, but as the counter approached ten o'clock, a car pulled in behind the van. Josh hit play to resume normal speed. When the car's headlights went out, a man got out of the passenger's side and walked up to the van. He looked around then knocked on the door. It slid open and a man got out of the truck. They talked for a minute then—Josh hit rewind, unsure of what he saw. He hit play and watched the man from the van point toward his house. The other man looked, then they shook hands and the man from the car got in the van. The other man got in the car and drove away. Josh hit rewind and played the sequence again. _Am I being watched?_ He thought. _By who?_ Josh scratched his head. _Wonder why—the engine, did they see the test?_ Panic dazed him for a moment.

"I have to do something," he whispered. "It's too important to fall into the wrong hands." Josh rewound the tape, unplugged the camcorder and hit record on the VCR to tape over the footage. Once downstairs, he copied the important computer files to his thumb-drive, then systematically opened each file, deleted the contents, and saved the file back over the original. When he was satisfied he'd removed everything, he deleted the folder. The next task was to deal with the prototype. He went to the garage, removed the engine from the mini-bike and put it in the portable fire pit. A splash of kerosene and a match set it ablaze. After turning on the exhaust fan, Josh sat down and watched his work consumed. It only took half an hour to reduce it to smoldering ash. He turned off the fan and went back in the house with his drawings of the prototype. At the kitchen table, he carefully inked a colored triangle across the top of each drawing, a different color for each drawing. When he finished, he took them upstairs and ran them through the shredder. He returned to the kitchen with a wad of shredded paper. _Now what? I know._ He took a small box and stuffed it with the shredded paper, sealed it, then addressed it to Sarah. "I'll mail it on my way to the airport," he said as he climbed the stairs. It was two o'clock in the morning.

* * *

Shelly glanced over at the flowers in the passenger seat, then at her watch. _She should be on her way to the airport,_ she thought, _these will be a nice surprise, add an air of romance._ She parked out front, gathered up the bouquet and headed for Sarah's front door. Trying not to drop the flowers, she managed to twist the doorknob and push the door open with her hip. She backed into the foyer and turned around. "Ahhh!" she shrieked, dropping the flowers. "What are you doing here? You should be halfway to Halifax."

Sarah was sitting balled up on the sofa, her arms wrapped tightly around her legs, her head resting on her knees. "I can't," she mumbled into her lap.

Shelly ignored the spilled flowers and eased onto the sofa next to her. "Don't do this, not now, you're so close." As Shelly reached out, Sarah tensed and turned her head. "Come on, get dressed, you can say you ran into traffic. You can't leave the poor guy stranded at the airport. Sarah?"

"I can't."

"Come on, it's Josh. You know you're safe with him." Shelly got up when Sarah didn't respond. She could feel the tension when she laid her hand on Sarah's shoulder. "You need this, more than you know. I'm going to get him. Get dressed, we'll be back in a couple of hours."

Sarah glanced up through her bangs, her red, swollen eyes were filled with dread.

"I know you want this. You know you want this. Why don't you put on that pretty flower print? You always looked so pretty in that." Shelly closed the door and raced down the sidewalk to her minivan. "God I hope he waits." She hopped in, started the engine and sped off. "Of course he'll wait, it's Sarah."

* * *

Josh glanced down at his watch, it was nearly ten thirty. His flight had been late, but only half an hour. He was beginning to worry that something had happened. Unfortunately, he had no way of contacting Sarah other than email, and try as he might, he couldn't remember her home address so even a cab was out of the question. He'd rehearsed their meeting hundreds of times and this was never one of the scenarios. There was nothing to do but wait and hope Sarah was alright. Every couple of minutes, he glanced over at the main airport entrance, then his watch.

"Josh?" Came a soft voice from behind him.

Josh spun around on his bar stool and stared into steel blue eyes. His cheeks tightened with a smile. "Sarah!" He hopped down and opened his arms.

"I'm Shelly, Sarah's—"

"Sister. Wow, I had no idea you two were twins." He gave her a quick hug and stepped back. "I always assumed—"

"We're not—"

"Twins? Of course you are." Josh pulled out his wallet and opened it to Sarah's picture.

Shelly glanced down at the picture and shook her head. "I can't believe she sent you my picture."

"This is you? Why would she—"

"I have no idea."

"All this time—all this time I thought—is she alright? Did something happen?"

"Yes." Shelly replied, tentatively.

"Yes?"

"Sarah's alright, but—"

"Ouch, there's that word. I'm such an idiot. Did she tell you I practically threw myself at her? What a putts. My wife just died, I don't blame her for freakin', probably thinks I'm some crazed widower on the make. I'm such an idiot." Josh shook his head and slid back up on the barstool. "I'm sorry, I'm being rude, would you like a Coke or something?"

Shelly climbed up on the barstool next to him. "Sure, Coke's fine."

Josh waved down the bartender and ordered a Coke and a refill of Diet Coke for himself. I'm sure I can get a room at the airport then catch the morning flight home."

"You'd run off, just like that?"

"'Run off? You just said—"

"I didn't say anything." Shelly dribbled a few peanuts into her Coke and took a sip. "How much do you really know about Sarah?"

Josh glanced down at the picture he'd taken out of his wallet. "Guess I thought I knew what she looked like." He crumbled up the picture and tossed it in the trashcan behind the bar. "Sorry," he said, glancing over at Shelly, "I didn't mean—I guess I don't know as much as I thought."

"She's reclusive."

Josh chuckled. "We writers lean that way, hazard of the job."

"With Sarah, it's more than the job. She hasn't dated since High School, almost eight years."

"I didn't know that." Josh's fingers twitched one-by-one as he counted up from eighteen. _Just a little older than Eddie, can you imagine?_

Shelly reached over and patted Josh's arm. "You're the first man she's—it's just I was hoping—but if you have to go, I suppose she'll have to cope."

Josh took a sip of soda and said into his glass, "Where is she?"

"Home."

"Will you take me? It was just pride before, I'm not like that."

"You're serious." Shelly tested.

"Yeah. Sarah's my dearest friend, I wouldn't hurt her. Besides, I don't even know what she looks like. Figure she owes me a glimpse."

"That she does. That she does indeed."

A mini van was waiting curbside. Shelly introduced the driver as Clifford and climbed in the passenger's seat. Josh recognized the name, tossed his overnight bag in the back and climbed in. Fueled by unfamiliar surroundings and a feeling of isolation, Josh's apprehension began to grow. Shelly carried on like a tour guide, but Josh wasn't paying much attention. He was a visual person, and his image of Sarah had been shattered. Not only that, but she deceived him. The further they went, the more a gnawing feeling eroded his optimism.

"You always so quiet?"

Josh shook off the stupor. "Guess I'm just a little tired, I didn't sleep well."

"Anticipation can do that."

Josh looked back out the window to hide his embarrassment. "Is that the infamous bridge?"

Clifford leaned over to Shelly. "How's he know about the bridge?" he whispered.

"He's Sarah's editor."

"Oh." Clifford sat back. "Ohhhh."

Shelly turned back to Josh. "Clifford and I have been going out for a few weeks. Hey, I know, maybe we could double one night."

"If she doesn't bounce me out on my ear."

Shelly winked. "Oh look, there's where Clifford works. I'm across the street in the boutique."

Josh noticed the tin sign above the rustic shop. "So Cliff, you're a fabricator?"

Clifford didn't answer, but Shelly was silently mouthing 'Clifford'.

"You do any piece work, Clifford?" Josh said picking up on Shelly's hint.

"On occasion."

Josh's mouth went suddenly dry and his stomach rolled as they pulled to the curb outside an historic looking two-story house. He'd rehearsed their meeting countless times, but nothing was like it should be. Shelly hopped out and ran around to the curbside as Josh slid the door open. "Nice meeting you Clifford." There was no reply. Josh stepped out on the sidewalk and stood to meet Shelly's questioning eyes.

"I'm not sure if she's—" Shelly paused.

"Ready? That makes two of us."

"Do you want me to—"

"Suppose I should take it from here." Josh felt like an idiot as soon as he said it. Who was he kidding, his own legs were threatening to abandon him. He extended the handle on his overnight bag to steady himself. Josh stood there, almost trembling, clutching his overnight bag like a cane. What was beyond the closed door, happiness or heartbreak? A scout crow swept down and landed on the gutter. Was it the bird Sarah wrote about? Josh couldn't move, he wanted to take a step forward and at the same time, wanted to run.

Shelly reached in her pocket and pulled out a business card. "Call me if—well, if you need a ride. I'm just a few minutes down the road."

Josh moistened his lips and swallowed hard. "Thanks for the lift."

Shelly gave him an unexpected hug and whispered in his ear. "Don't hurt her."

"Never." Josh waited until Shelly and Clifford drove off then turned back to the door. He spotted a snow shovel when he reached the porch and thought about shoveling the walk. This had taken on all the tension of a blind date. At that moment, Josh wanted to be anywhere but standing outside Sarah's door. Finally, he took a deep breath, made a fist and almost silently knocked. He waited, then knocked again, this time harder. There was still no answer. Another quick glance over his shoulder and he eased the door open a crack. "Sarah? Sarah it's Josh."

### Chapter 8

Marty cut the cards and slid the deck in front of his partner. "You in?"

Corp slid his phone out of it's holster and glanced down at the flashing red screen. "No, you better deal me out this hand."

"Have it your way." Steve said and dealt two hands. "Come to papa."

Corp rolled his chair to the back of the van and answered. "Good evening Mr. Goff."

"Agent Corp. What is your position?"

"Sitting, gray chair on casters." Corp grew anxious at the long silence. "Sorry sir, it's been a long day. I'm outside the Smith residence."

"Hold."

Corp glanced down at his watch. It had been nearly twenty four hours since his report and Goff still hadn't acted. "We should have gone in right then and there." Corp mumbled.

"You in?" Marty said, looking up from his hand.

"No, Goff." Corp pointed to his phone.

Mr. Goff came back on the line. "Mr. Smith is out of the country?"

"Nova Scotia like my report says."

"His children?"

"Still at school. Why don't I—"

"Hold."

"Of course," Corp mumbled, "you have to ask permission."

"Agent Corp. You understand the possible implications of international involvement if what you say is accurate."

"I know what I saw, and not to be disrespectful, but we're talking Canada not North Korea or Iraq." Corp decided to play a hunch. "Why don't you tell Mr. Wallis, I can case the place tonight? In and out, nobody the wiser. We might not get a better opportunity."

"Hold."

"Right." Corp moved the phone to his other ear. Mr. Goff sounded perturbed, but casing the place was the next logical step. He couldn't figure out why this was so difficult.

"Go tonight. I expect a full report on your findings."

"Yes sir—" The phone went dead. Corp turned to his partners. "Marty, you hang out here. Steve, we go tonight."

"If I can move," Steve replied, stretching his back, "been locked up in this damn van for what, two days? We looking for anything in particular?"

"The usual, blueprints, sketches, notes, that kind of stuff." Corp pulled out a digital camera from one of the overhead bins. "In and out nobody knows we were there. Let's hit it."

* * *

Josh eased the door open on a foyer sprinkled with daisy's. Accustom to the bright outdoors, it was impossible to make out anything else in the dark house. He leaned in, "Hello? Sarah?" then stepped into the foyer, leaving the door open while his eyes adjusted. To his right, translucent window shades bathed the living room in golden hues. Directly ahead of him, what he could see of the kitchen was also empty. Unsure of what to do, he bent down and started gathering the flowers.

"You came." A muffled voice mumbled.

"Of course I did." Josh could tell the voice was coming from the living room but there was still no one in sight.

"You're letting in the cold."

"I'm sorry, I couldn't see." Josh closed the door and reached for the light switch.

"Don't turn on the lights."

"I want to see you." The tangle of blankets on the sofa under the window moved.

"Why? You obviously know I lied."

"The picture? I'm sure you had your reasons." The blankets twisted into a sitting position, then slowly peeled away to a woman's shoulders, but all Josh could see was the back of her head. "I see you and your sister share the same beautiful hair."

"What did she tell you?"

"She told me you're more beautiful than I could imagine. I told her I imagined an angel." Josh crept forward and knelt down next to her as she slowly turned from the window. When they came face-to-face, she froze. "I was right." Josh smiled. "Hi." Even silhouetted against the window shades, Sarah looked scared to death. Levity had always served Josh, so he resorted to trickery and fell back on the floor, tossing the daisy's in the air.

"Oh my God!"

Josh kept his eyes closed, but felt her settle on the floor next to him. Her hand touched his chest then gently shook him.

"Josh? Josh are you alright? Can you hear me?"

His name trumpeted from a voice he'd never heard yet held dear. He smiled and opened his eyes.

"You're incorrigible." Sarah tightened her blanket and stood. "I have to change."

Josh sat up. "You look fine."

"Cute." Sarah whooshed across the room like a tornado of blankets, pausing at the foot of the stairs. "I'll be right back. Make yourself at home, there's soda in the kitchen."

_Make myself at home,_ Josh thought. _Okay, first_ —Josh got up and opened the shades. The windows were framed in, violet, lace drapery swaged back on either side. Paneled walls decorated with old, black and white photographs surrounded the room. The furniture was draped with hand knitted throws and in the center of the room, a large, oval, Oriental rug covered the hardwood floor. It was quaint, warm, old, not at all what Josh expected. Across the room, adjacent to the kitchen, he spotted Sarah's computer perched on a round, hardwood table littered with papers. The image of Sarah sitting at the computer reading his email brought a smile to his face.

On the way to the kitchen, he draped his coat across his overnight bag. "You want something?" He called up the stairs, but there was no answer. The kitchen's motif was the same as the living room. It was as though the house belonged to an elderly couple, not a young woman. Perhaps this was the way one decorated in Weymouth. "You got root beer. That must have taken some doing, the guy at the airport said he'd never heard of it."

"It's diet, that's your favorite, right?" Sarah's faint voice from upstairs asked.

"Right." Josh opened the bottle and poured some into a glass.

"I'll have what you're having. I've been dying to try it."

Josh turned as Sarah's voice descended the stairs. Their eyes met. She was blushing, but by the warmth in his cheeks so was he.

"You're going to spill that."

Josh glanced down at the soda bottle in his hand and righted it. "A dress, I feel like a bum." Josh didn't move as she walked across the kitchen toward him. Her bone colored dress, highlighted with a burgundy floral print, hung modestly from her shoulders. The neckline dipped to a hint of cleavage and around her neck, a thin gold necklace washed across her collar bones. Her pink fur slippers made him grin. "You're—you're so beau—"

"Young? I hope you can forgive me. I was afraid if I sent _my_ picture, you'd take one look and dismiss me as a snotty nosed school kid, not serious about writing. There were so many times I wanted to explain, to set it right, but I was afraid I'd just make it worse and I didn't want to lose—well I didn't want that." Sarah picked up the other glass of root beer from the counter. "Shall we?"

Josh followed Sarah back into the living room and sat down on the end of the sofa closest to the overstuffed chair Sarah chose. It fit her like it was her favorite.

"Can you ever forgive me?"

"There's nothing to forgive."

The conversation continued slowly, almost strained with periods of awkward silence. Sarah seemed nervous, Josh knew he was. He'd fallen in love with the woman in the picture. Of course it wasn't really the picture, it was her passionate writing, the warmth he felt from her and the little nuances that came out in her correspondence. But at the same time, he'd built his feelings around the picture, a woman he'd come to know—to adore. And now, now this exquisite young woman was supposed to take her place. Josh was friendly, but never good at carrying a conversation and it seemed he was trying to do just that. Then, he noticed Sarah's nervousness was directed at the hem of her dress.

"You know," Josh said, holding up his hands like a photographer might frame a shot. "Something's just not right. Wait, I know, it's your dress."

"What's wrong with my dress?" Sarah replied, tugging at the hem.

Josh covered his mouth to hide a grin. "It's just not you. Didn't you say you usually wear black sweats?"

"Not when I have company, that's just when I'm lounging around the house."

"So what you're saying, is I'm just company?"

"No, I didn't say that." Sarah stood and smoothed her dress. "I wore this because I thought you'd like it."

"I do, but you don't need a pretty dress to look beautiful."

Sarah turned her head and walked toward the middle of the room.

"No need to blush."

"Who said I was blushing?" Sarah glanced over at him. "Your sunburn came on rather quickly. Don't go away." Sarah turned and darted up the stairs.

"You okay?" Josh called, hearing her fall at the top of the steps.

"I'm okay. Damn slippers." Her voice trailed off down the hall.

She returned a few minutes later, and although he tried to steer her toward the couch, she avoided his hand and flopped down cross-legged in the overstuffed chair. "Better?" Sarah held out her arms displaying faded, black sweats.

"Much." Josh looked over toward the computer.

"That's actually straightened up."

"How's that chapter coming?"

"I made the changes you suggested, but I'm not sure it comes off right. Let me show you."

Josh followed her to the computer and they sat down next to one another. As they went through the chapter, their conversation became spontaneous, easy. Josh was delighted to be with her, to share her excitement, see her mannerisms, savor her aroma and occasional touch. Sarah seemed to enjoy his company. Josh leaned in over her shoulder as Sarah's fingers flew across the keyboard to make a change. He took a deep breath, but froze when she pushed her air over her ear and turned toward him. Their faces were inches apart and Josh desperately wanted to kiss her. Neither moved for what seemed like an eternity. Did she want him to kiss her, or was she afraid he would?

"Oh my God!" Sarah broke the moment. "It's dark out."

Josh turned toward the window, stood and stretched. "Time flies when you're having fun."

"How original." They both laughed.

"There a place around here I can take you out for something to eat?"

"Weymouth's small, but—"

"But?"

"Maybe we should eat in." Sarah suggested.

"I see, afraid Marina might spot us?"

"You."

Josh caught her playful slap and held her hand. "Really, some place nice. Besides, I need to find a place for the night."

"Stay here." Sarah's hands went to her mouth. She was obviously embarrassed and had spoken without thinking.

"What about Marina?" Josh said to give her an out.

"I think Shell will take care of the gossip. She's been dying to get us together, that's why she did that little party thing a few weeks ago."

Josh shook his head. "I still can't believe I thought she was you."

"Disappointed?" Sarah did a quick Marilyn Monroe pose.

"No way." Josh turned to hide a blush.

"Then it's settled. Follow me." Sarah led Josh into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator.

"What?" Josh said, noticing her shoulders droop.

"All I have are frozen dinners."

Josh peeked over her shoulder. "You sure you won't let me take you out? Marina be damned!"

"Josh!" Sarah slapped his arm and in doing so, slipped.

Josh caught her and before he knew what happened, he was bent over, holding her in his arms. Her sweatshirt had ridden up and his hand was against the hot skin at the small of her back. Neither moved. Josh couldn't breathe, his pulse pounded at his temples. He slowly stood, never taking his eyes off her. She found her footing, but lingered in his arms. Their lips brushed, her sweetness drew him in like a bee to honey. They kissed once, then again. Sarah's hands traced his arms, gently breaking his embrace. She stepped back and straightened her sweatshirt.

"Tell you what, how about delivery?"

"Su—sure."

Sarah hit a programmable button on the phone.

"You a pizza junky?"

"I guess. Oh, hey Larry, sure I'll hold." Sarah glanced over at Josh. "These silly slippers are going to kill me one day."

"No need to apologize, gave me a chance to be gallant."

"Hey Larry." Sarah looked toward Josh. "Is plain okay?"

"My favorite."

"The usual Larry, and do you mind stopping for beer? Great... fifteen minutes, fine, see you then." Sarah hung up the phone. "You okay with beer, I thought we'd celebrate."

"Pizza and beer, my, my, just like when the kids are home." He'd said it innocently enough, but as soon as he did, he regretted it.

Sarah immediately turned her back. She fumbled with her purse a moment, but there was no mistaking the trembling in her hand when she put the money for the pizza on the table. Josh swore he saw tears when she excused herself to freshen up. As he waited for the pizza, he twice thought he heard her crying.

"I said I wouldn't hurt her," he whispered. "But that's exactly what I've done." He answered the door and paid the delivery boy. "Can you give me a lift?"

"Sure."

Josh set the pizza and beer on the table, flipped over the receipt and wrote,

'Forgive me, I should have never come.  
Josh'

He put on his coat and pulled Sarah's penny out of the breast pocket, then walked back to the table, kissed the penny and set it on the note.

"Was that Larry? I'll just be a few minutes." Sarah's voice was weak, raw, it was hard to believe those were the last words he'd ever hear her say.

"I love you," he whispered, then turned, grabbed his suitcase and followed Larry out of the house.

* * *

Shelly eased up to the curb outside Sarah's house. The way she had things figured, Josh and Sarah should need a little nudge about now. She was surprised to see the house dark except the flickering light from the television in the living room. Could she be wrong? Had nature taken it's course? "I better make sure." Shelly shut off the engine and walked up to the front door.

"Hey sis, you decent? It's me." There was no reply so she quietly stepped inside. As she suspected, the television was the only light, but instead of two lovers wrapped around one another watching a romantic movie, Sarah was sitting alone, her wet cheeks glistening in the harsh light.

"Josh upstairs?" Shelly said as she started to remove her coat.

"He had to go." Sarah wiped her eyes.

"Go? What'd you do?"

"Naturally you'd blame me, the frigid bitch."

"Sarah! Did he hurt you?"

Sarah shook her head.

Shelly noticed the pizza box on the kitchen table and slipped her coat back on. "I'll be right back." From the front porch, she noticed the pair of partially covered foot prints under the new snow. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed. "Hey Larry, it's Shell... yeah, did you give a guy a lift from Sarah's?... Thanks, talk later." She clicked the phone closed.

A short drive and she pulled up in front of the local club. It didn't take long to find the stranger sitting alone at the bar. Shelly eased onto the stool next to him. "We have to stop meeting like this."

Josh glanced up, but didn't reply.

Shelly gave him time, but when he gave no indication of speaking, she plowed ahead. "So you ran out on her."

"I did no such thing." Josh slammed back his drink, turned the glass over and set it next to six others on the bar in front of him.

"Then how do you explain you're here and she's home crying?"

"She should be glad to be rid of me."

Shelly waved to the bartender. "Mark, I'll have what he's having."

"Diet Coke?"

"Make mine a regular Coke." She turned to Josh. "I'd expect at least a little liquor for the jilted lover and all."

"What do you know?" Josh looked up through red, weary eyes. His jaw was clenched.

Shelly rested her hand on Josh's forearm. "What I know is you two are acting childish."

Josh yanked his arm away. "Mark, I'll have another. This time put some rum in it."

"You'd do that to her? I thought she meant more than that to you." Shelly hopped off the barstool and slapped three dollars down on the bar. "Thanks, Mark." She turned to Josh. "See ya sailor." Each step toward the door was tortuous, but she had to force his hand. She couldn't let this happen, he had to be the one, he just had to. The night air greeted her with a crisp slap as she slowly pushed the door open. _Come on Josh, come on._

"Wait."

Shelly sighed and let the door close. _Now what?_ She thought. _I have to do this right, they're like a couple of adolescents._ Shelly slipped into the empty booth next to the door. It took all her resolve to keep from looking up to see if Josh was going to join her. Finally, the booth creaked and another shadow fell across the table. Neither spoke.

Finally, Josh broke the silence. "You were just going to walk out?"

"Me? Nice try bucko, but you're the one who flew all the way up here to run out on her?"

Josh looked up from beneath the brim of his hat and the distress in his face immediately took the edge off Shelly's anger. "I kissed her."

Shelly wanted to jump up and hug him, but contained her enthusiasm. "And?"

"She pulled away."

"Did she kiss back?"

"Yes, yes she did."

Shelly's heart did a little flip. She was right, he was the one. "Then what happened?"

"I said something stupid about my kids that made her cry. I hurt her, I never wanted to hurt her." Josh sat back and took a sip of his drink. "Ah! I hate liquor. Why are you smiling? There's nothing—"

Shelly held up her hand and took a moment to consider. "Did Sarah ever mention High School?"

"We didn't talk about the past much, it drew attention to our age difference. Why?"

Shelly glanced around the bar to make sure know one was close then leaned forward. "Sarah was attacked—sexually assaulted. Since then, she's never dated, so you can see why she might be apprehensive."

"She's so precious, who would—"

"He paid, but that's not what's important."

"The bridge—her book."

"The story's fiction, but what is it you writers say, 'write what you know?'"

"The kiss? She must have been terrified, I'm such an idiot I should have never—"

"No, you absolutely should be here."

"But—"

"Do you love her?" It was obvious from Josh's reaction that the question caught him off guard. Shelly reached across the table and took a drink out of his glass. "Do you love her?"

"Did she tell you I'm married?"

"Don't you mean were married?" She countered.

"I was married when we first started corresponding, but you can be married and lonely, they're not mutually exclusive. I would have never left Betty, but..."

Shelly listened intently to Josh's story. He was avoiding the question, but it was obvious to her from what he wasn't saying that he cared a great deal for Sarah. If it wasn't love, it was the next best thing. It was also clear that he was in denial and would need a push. "Josh, Josh," she interrupted. "Let me make this easy. Sarah's in love with you."

Josh sat back seemingly stunned. "But she's—"

"What, too young? Too beautiful? Can a woman really be too beautiful to be loved?"

"I had no idea—"

"Of course you did, the penny, remember? Why do you think she sent it? If it'd been me, I'd have jumped your bones the minute you arrived, but after what happened, you can understand Sarah's hesitation." Shelly was surprised she didn't get a reaction so she changed her approach. "I can tell you're a gentle, tender man, the kind of man Sarah needs. If you abandon her, she'll never shed the shame of what happened. Do you want to be responsible for that?"

"Of course not, I—"

"Love her. We both know it, but does she?" Shelly got up. "She's your damsel in distress, rescue her. Your heart's big enough, I know it is."

Josh glanced down the aisle toward the bar. "Can you give me a lift?"

"It's what I live for." Shelly waited while Josh retrieved his overnight bag from his previous seat at the bar. He opened the door for her and they stepped outside.

"Do you mind if we stop by your place on the way?"

* * *

It was eleven thirty when Shelly's van skidded to the curb outside Sarah's house. Josh reached over on the seat next to him, grabbed the boombox and hopped out into five inches of fresh snow. As soon as he closed the door, Shelly pulled away. "My bag," he called after her to no avail. "She did that on purpose." Across the street, Marina's house was dark, but he didn't imagine it would stay that way for long. At the corner, he noticed the red glow of taillights. "That Shelly, doesn't want to miss the show. She's as bad as Marina." He looked up the walk to Sarah's dark house. He'd had a few drinks at Shelly's while he retrieved the song from the Internet and burned it to CD. It was likely Shelly had pushed the alcohol on him to help him over the jitters, but he was having second thoughts just the same. "Damn it's cold, maybe—" He glanced back as Shelly flashed the brake lights. "Okay, I get it."

Josh brushed off a place in the snow and set the boombox on the sidewalk. He checked to make sure the volume was full, then hit play. The song was his favorite, and although he didn't know what the Latin words meant, he knew them by heart. The song was part of the playlist he wrote by and when he sent it to Sarah, she commented on how beautiful it was. "Come on." Josh bounced on his toes when the snow got in his tennis shoes. The violin prelude began as several branches emptied their load of snow with a muted thump. "Okay, this is it." Josh began singing with the lyrics. He wasn't ten seconds into the song when Sarah's lights came on. The door opened seconds later. When she appeared in the doorway, he sang louder swinging his arms to the music with exaggerated passion.

He couldn't hear her, but read his name on her lips and sank to one knee. When her hands went to her mouth, he looked over his shoulder and saw Marina peeking out from behind the curtains. He blew her a kiss with both hands and sang louder. Suddenly the music stopped, but he continued undaunted. When he turned, Sarah was standing in front of him.

"Stop! Stop this instant. Please Josh." Sarah pleaded.

Josh lowered his voice so he was singing only to her. Snow fluttered onto her shoulders and quickly melted into the black fabric. She offered no resistance when he took her hands and eased her onto his knee.

"You have to stop this instant," she said, covering his mouth. She glanced at Marina's. "We can't be seen—"

"What, playing in the snow?"

"But we're not—Ah!" Sarah shrieked as Josh rolled her off his knee and they slid down the small embankment to the sidewalk. Sarah was on her back, Josh on his side clinging to her. "Have you gone mad?" Sarah whined. "We'll freeze."

"It's just a little snow." Josh plopped a hand full on her forehead.

"Oh no you didn't." Sarah swung her arm and knocked Josh back into the snow. She jerked up. "Oh no you don't mister, not this time. She swept and armful over him.

Josh started flapping his arms and legs to make a snow angel, but when she tried to throw another arm full of snow at him, he caught her arm and she slipped down on top of him. Her sweatshirt rode up and when his cold hands hit her bare skin, she arched her back. The moon broke through the clouds, her hair framed her silhouette like folded wings. Josh remembered the piece he'd written about her. 'Your hair, dark as a raven's wing, captures your face. A wisp that lay across your brow denies perfection. Porcelain nor marble can capture your radiance. The moon pales by comparison.' Josh gently stroked her hair. Sarah collapsed into his arms and their lips met. He wrapped his arms around her as she cradled his cheeks. As they kissed, he pushed up against the trunk of a tree until he was sitting with Sarah across his lap. The passionate flurry ebbed and Josh cuddled her like a mother would a child. They sat, staring at the moon until it disappeared behind the clouds.

"Your lips," Josh whispered, "they're blue." He tried to stand with her in his arms, but couldn't manage. As they stood, Josh wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her back. "I'm sorry about earlier, I wasn't thinking."

"This is what you do when you're thinking?" Sarah looked beyond him. "Did Shell put you up to this?"

"No." Josh could feel her shiver. "Sarah, I—"

"Don't Josh." Again Sarah peeled Josh's arms away, but this time, she took his hand. "Come on, you'll catch your death." As they walked back to the house hand-in-hand, Shelly's minivan pulled away from the curb.

### Chapter 9

Eddie pulled the soggy cup out of his drink holder and drew the last bit of watery soda through the straw. It had been an uneventful trip. "Hey," he yelled as he wheeled the car through the Route 216 roundabout. "I think I saw Dad's PT up ahead."

"Where are we?" Caitlin groaned from the back seat.

"We're almost home."

"Jesus!" Peter complained as the tires squealed around the corner and they headed down Crest Drive.

"Isn't that Dad?" Caitlin said as Eddie turned the corner onto Hammond Branch.

Eddie glanced in the rearview mirror at the red PT Cruiser sitting in the cul-de-sac. His cell phone rang. By the ring tone, Eddie knew it was Josh. As he answered the phone, he spotted two black Chevy Suburbans parked in front of their house and let off the gas. He glanced in the rearview mirror again as Josh's Cruiser pulled away. "What's up?... Yeah, I see 'em... got it." Eddie closed the phone and turned toward Peter and Caitlin.

"Were you speeding or something?" Peter said, pointing toward the Suburbans.

"We don't know where Dad is," Eddie ordered, "and haven't talked to him in a week."

"But—"

"And you don't know anything about his engine. Got it?"

As Eddie pulled into the driveway, the doors on the first Suburban swung open, but the second pulled away from the curb. For a moment he thought it was going to block the drive, but it continued down the street. _Hope they didn't see Dad,_ Eddie thought. The three climbed out of the car as two of the four men that had emerged from the Suburban started up the driveway. The other two lingered near the mailbox. All four were dressed in black top coats. "Let me guess," Eddie said, "you're the men in black and the planet is being invaded by aliens disguised as humans? Peter? Caitlin? No, no aliens here."

"Excuse me?"

"Not a movie buff? What can I do for you?"

The man glanced down at the paper he was holding. A glance obviously meant to look as though he were reading, but it was too quick. "Are you Mr. Josh Smith?"

"I don't think Dad's home. I'm his son, Eddie." The man extended his hand, but Eddie didn't shake hands. "And you are?"

"I'm sorry, this is Mr. Rose and I'm Mr. Corp, we're with your father's insurance company. We were supposed to meet him this morning for a walk through. I understand he was on a trip over the weekend, perhaps he was held up at the airport. I suppose you could show us around."

Eddie glanced up as the other Suburban returned and pulled up to the curb. Whoever they were, Josh had eluded them. Eddie walked down to the trunk while Peter and Caitlin retreated toward the house. He hit a button on the key fob and popped the trunk. Corp and Rose stepped back. "A little jumpy aren't we?" Neither replied. Eddie leaned back against the car and folded his arms across his chest. "So you want me to show you around. I took a course in South Carolina to get my license to carry. One of the things they teach you is how to tell if someone is packing. I'd say .40 Cal. the standard service weapon for police, although the shoulder holster might make you detectives or some kind of federal agents. Either way, I'm not letting you in my house." Eddie could tell from Corp's expression, he'd trumped him.

"Technically it's not your property."

"Technically I don't give a crap." Eddie pushed up from the car and Corp stepped back again. "Careful now, I might be packing." Eddie held up his hands. "What do you think? Belt? Boot?" The passenger's door on the second Suburban opened. "What? You want to go? Okay Corp."

Corp slid his empty hand out of his coat and waved off the other men. "Tell your father, we'll reschedule." Corp and Rose backed down the driveway and the two Suburbans drove away.

Eddie leaned back against the car with a silent sigh of relief.

"Sweet," Peter said, "you put that prick in his place."

"Are you nuts?" Caitlin complained. "I though you were going to get us killed. What's going on? Where's Dad? Who were those guys? Why did you—"

"Enough," Eddie said, cutting her off. "It's freezing out here. Grab your stuff and let's get inside." On the way to the front door, he glanced back and noticed one of the Suburbans parked around the corner on Crest Drive. Eddie put his key in the lock, but before opening the door, turned to Peter and Caitlin. "Not a word about Dad or the engine, understand? The place might be bugged."

"Bugged," Caitlin said. "I think _you've_ seen too many movies."

"Not a word." Eddie reiterated.

"Fine."

Eddie unlocked the door and led them inside. Nothing about the house looked out of place, but they were surprised to see the Christmas tree up, surrounded by presents. They all new their mother had probably bought everything before she died. She was a shopper. The warmth and familiarity that they'd come to expect from trips home was overshadowed by the lingering tension from the confrontation out front. Eddie remained in the foyer while Peter and Caitlin took their suitcases upstairs, then returned. The question going through Eddie's head was, where was Josh? It was conceivable that the cops had mistaken one of the other neighbors PT Cruiser as Josh's, there was at least one other red one in the neighborhood, but where did he go? "I know—" Eddie reached for the kitchen phone.

"Know what?" Caitlin asked.

Eddie shook his head and picked up the phone. Before he dialed, he thought better of it and unscrewed the ear piece on the receiver. He wasn't shocked, but still surprised to see a listening device. He held up the phone so Peter and Caitlin could see.

"I'm sorry," Caitlin whispered. "What do we do?"

"We have to assume they can hear everything we say." He turned to Caitlin. "Why don't you turn on the computer and fire up some music? Make it loud."

"Okay." Caitlin went off through the living room to the computer in the dining room.

"We going to check the house?" Peter asked.

Eddie nodded.

"You think it's the engine?"

"Shhh! What else?"

Caitlin returned from the dining room.

"What happened to the music?" Peter asked.

"There is none."

"Dad deleted it?"

"No, there's like nothing on the computer, like zippo nada, nothing." Caitlin and Peter turned to Eddie.

"Let's not jump to conclusions. We know Dad's alright, we saw him just a few minutes ago. Obviously he eluded them or the other Suburban wouldn't have returned."

"Then where is he?" Caitlin asked.

"I'm betting he stashed the PT in Brian's garage."

"The guy with the 'Z'?" Peter asked.

"Yeah," Eddie agreed, "he lives up Crest a little ways and that's the direction Dad went. I was going to call, but—"

"The phone's bugged." Peter said. "What about calling him on one of our cells?

"I don't know, they can probably monitor cells."

"So how do we call him?"

"We don't. First we have a look around. Peter, you take upstairs. Caitlin, you take the dining room, living room and kitchen. I'll take the family room and garage. Turn on a radio, look under pictures, lamp shades, under the edge of the bed, phones, anywhere you think they could stash a bug, and then all the other places. Don't forget the bathrooms. Don't move them, just note where they are."

They spent the next hour combing the house, then met back in the foyer. Peter had discovered three, Caitlin two more and Eddie an additional three plus the one in the kitchen phone.

"Looks like we need an exterminator," Eddie joked. "You game?"

Caitlin and Peter nodded.

"Okay, here's the plan. Take one of the portable CD players with you and gently remove the bugs, then bring them down here. The music should prevent them from realizing the bugs are being moved. Put the radio on WPOC, 93.1 so everything sounds the same. Once we get them down here, we can cover them up or something."

Once again, they fanned out through the house, this time to retrieve the listening devices. It wasn't long before they returned to the kitchen with the bugs. They placed them in the center of the table with the radio's around them.

"Now what?" Caitlin asked.

Eddie pulled an air horn out from behind his back. Found this in the garage. "Kill the music and start whispering."

Peter slowly turned down the radios and they started whispering to one another. After about a minute, Eddie held the horn out over the table.

"Let me," Caitlin said. She took the horn from Eddie and pulled the trigger. They all cringed from the shrill blast then burst out laughing.

Eddie swept the listening devices off the table into a pot and clanged the lid closed. "Way to go girl, that was sweet. I don't know about you two, but I'm bushed."

"What about Dad?" Caitlin asked.

"Keep it down," Eddie answered. "We can't be sure we got them all. Dad will get in touch with us. Until then, we wait. Remember, assume they're still listening to everything you say."

"Can I go up to the mall?" Caitlin asked.

"I guess, but they'll probably follow you."

"Like how creepy is that. No thanks, guess I'll just stay here. God! I feel like a freakin' prisoner."

It was three in the afternoon when Eddie finally hit the sheets. The video equipment in his room surprised him. Did Josh know he was being watched? He must have. Beside the blank computer, all the drawings in the shop had been removed, replaced with blank paper, the prototypes were gone and from the pile of sawdust around the lathe it looked as though he might have built something. The ashes in the portable fire pit smelled like cooking oil which led Eddie to believe that maybe Josh had made another attempt despite his warning to the contrary. Did it work? Did Corp and Rose know, and who were they? Who'd they work for? These questions would have to wait until Josh showed up. Eddie's eyelids grew heavy and he finally drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Eddie woke four hours later to a dark room. He could hear Sports Center on the television in the family room, and it sounded like Caitlin was in the kitchen. After a quick stop in the bathroom, he headed downstairs.

"Hey Eddie, I was just coming to wake you. I made Mac & Cheese with hotdogs. You mind waking Peter?"

"Just like old times." Eddie turned toward the family room. "Pete! Wake up."

"I could have done that."

"Then why'd you ask?"

"Cute. So are your friends coming over?"

"No, I told them we were busy with family stuff tonight."

Peter came up the stairs rubbing his eyes. "Jeez, Mac and Cheese? I can get that in the cafeteria."

"No," Caitlin replied, "Dad says I make the best."

Eddie got the plates, Peter the silverware, they all grabbed something to drink and sat down at the table. Caitlin punched the remote and changed channels.

"Hey, I was watching that," Peter complained.

"No you weren't. Besides, I want to watch Home Improvement like we used to."

"Great, reruns."

They were halfway through supper when there was a faint tap on the window behind Eddie. Peter and Caitlin turned to look as Eddie pushed back the drape. He let the drape fall closed and pushed back from the table. "Remember, there still might be some bugs we missed so control yourselves." Eddie went down to the family room, ducted behind the drapes, pulled the security pin and slid back the sliding glass door. "Hey Dad," he whispered.

"You kids okay?"

"Yeah. Come on in, but keep it down, the house was bugged." Eddie slid the door closed and pushed back the drapes. Peter and Caitlin were waiting.

"Daddy," Caitlin whispered, melting into his arms. "Are you alright?"

"Hey Pete," Josh said, pulling Peter into their embrace. "I'm fine. Ditched the PT at Brian's." Josh looked up at Eddie. "Sandy has the keys if you need them. Some turn of events, huh?"

"Who are those guys Daddy?"

"Not really sure." Josh led them over to the couch and sat down between Peter and Caitlin.

Eddie sat down in the recliner opposite the couch. "You build another prototype after we talked?"

"How'd you know?"

"Pile of sawdust under the lathe. And?"

Josh leaned forward. "It worked."

"You thought the other one did, what makes this one different?"

"After I hung-up, the power came back on. I used what you told me to modify the blueprints, then spent the night turning a new cone on the lathe. I think it was the day after the ice storm, but anyway, I tested it on the bench and it ran. I knew it wouldn't last since it was built out of wood, so I put it on your mini-bike. Sometime before dawn, it was still dark out, I opened the garage, hopped on the mini-bike and fired it up only to find out the throttle didn't work. Guess I should have tested it more, but I didn't have much time since I was leaving to meet Sarah."

"Canadian Sarah?" Peter asked.

"Didn't Missy tell you?"

"I'm sorry, with finals and all, I forgot. How'd it go? What was she like? Did you—"

"Whoa, whoa," Eddie interrupted, "back to the issue at hand. What happened with the engine?"

"Well, like I said, the throttle didn't do a damn thing. It either ran, or it didn't. It was only the size of a shoebox so I rigged a string to close the throttle, like a dead-man's switch, and gave it a try. It was small, but I thought maybe it would work. Well, when the centrifugal clutch grabbed, it shot me down the driveway, and I mean shot. I yanked the string when I bounced over the curb across the street, but it must have broken. I missed the maple and flew down between Doug and Bob's screaming like a girl. Damn near splattered myself on Bob's shed. Must have been doing thirty, although it felt like a hundred, when I lost it. Sorry I bent up your mini-bike. I figured we were saving it for the grandkids. And, oh yeah, I sprained my wrist."

"You were hurt?" Caitlin interrupted.

Josh wiggled his wrist in circles. "Nah, just a little stiff."

"So it only ran at one speed?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah, but it didn't seem to matter what kind of load. I had it going on the bench at 2500 RPM before the test drive."

"What's up with the video camera in my room?"

"I think it was that night. Not really sure, kind of lost track of time with my trip and all. Anyway, I think it was that night I noticed a black van parked across the street. I thought it might be burglars casing the Carnahana's, so I set up the video camera. I couldn't sleep the night before I left for Nova Scotia, so I went down to your room and replayed the tape. Turned out to be someone watching our house. I had no idea if they'd been there when I did the test, so I destroyed everything, computer files, drawings, even the prototype, burned it to ash."

"What about the other two models?"

"I left them, they didn't work. Why?"

"They're gone."

Josh scratched his head. "So you think those guys broke in and took them?"

"Looks that way."

"Your computer is erased." Caitlin said.

"And there were bugs all over the house." Peter added.

"Guess we got someone's attention." Josh sat back and smiled. "Told you."

"Maybe we should go to the police or the FBI." Caitlin said.

"How do you know those guys weren't the police or FBI?" Josh replied.

"So everything's destroyed?" Peter asked.

Josh bobbed his brow. "Not exactly. I put all my files on a thumb-drive." He patted his shirt pocket. "I mailed the new drawings to Sarah's."

"Dad," Eddie groaned, "what if they intercept them?"

"They're shredded. Unless you know my code, no one can put them back together. They're Plan B incase I have to toss the thumb-drive. So, what's the plan?" Josh, Caitlin and Peter turned to Eddie. The ball was in his court.

* * *

Agent Corp glanced down at his collection of evidence as he paced beside the table. He'd taken a chance disobeying Goff's orders, but promotions came by taking chances. The upcoming presentation just might be his opportunity to snatch the case away from Goff. He was slow, methodical, a bureaucrat, everything revolved around his personal agenda, but with Mr. Wallis involved, maybe he could cut the strings. The only catch was Goff and Wallis seemed to have some kind of connection. Still, after the way Corp handled the extortion case, he felt Wallis owed him. Corp started toward the conference room door when he heard the elevator chime.

"The conference room is this way, sir." Mr. Goff appeared outside the doorway, but stepped aside for another man.

"Mr. Wallis, I presume," Corp said, offering his hand.

"Agent—"

"Corp, Derrick Corp. I handled your extortion case."

"Messy, but effective."

Mr. Goff followed him into the conference room and Corp closed the door. Goff was obviously annoyed, but Mr. Wallis was exactly what Corp expected, mid fifty's, not a strand of his salt and pepper hair out of place and a tailored suit that had to go for upwards of eight hundred dollars. Corp straightened his tie, then walked past them to the head of the room.

"Mr. Wallis, Mr. Goff, I asked you hear to examine the evidence I obtained from Mr. Josh Smith's residence as it pertains to my investigation. As you can see, there were drawings, notes, and a collection of research material pertaining to alternative energy research. In addition, there are two prototypes. Most importantly however—"

"Is the scorched _prototype_ made of wood?" Goff questioned with a sarcastic edge to his voice.

"Yes, but—"

"Obviously not successful. And the other, aluminum? Another soft material."

_So,_ Corp thought, _it's going to be like that you little twerp._ Despite Goff's criticism, Mr. Wallis was leaning forward, hands folded like a church, chin resting on his thumbs, steeple across his lips. "As I was saying," Corp continued, "while these may not be functional, they certainly indicate Mr. Smith was working to that end." Corp picked up the remote. "And there is no disputing what I saw."

Both Goff and Mr. Wallis watched intently as the video showed a small motorbike propel it's rider out of a garage. A few moments later, a man pushed the bike back into the garage and the door closed. Corp had duplicated the segment so it repeated.

"Even with the night vision, it is impossible to determine the power plant," Goff said, "and I see no evidence here that any of these attempts were successful."

Corp reached down and picked up a small stack of photographs. "Your catching on, my thoughts exactly. I had the guys down at the lab make a few enlargements." Corp handed the pictures to Mr. Wallis. "As you can clearly see, the shape of the power plant is identical to these models. If I'd have been allowed to move sooner, I might have—"

"Might have proves nothing. Your assignment—" Goff abruptly stopped.

Mr. Wallis leaned back in his chair as if considering, but Corp thought he detected a visual cue between the two. Just who was playing who? Corp suddenly felt like the mouse in his own cat and mouse game and he didn't like it one bit.

"It's unfortunate you were not able to move more quickly." Mr. Wallis said. "You have a plan?"

Goff seemed to be fighting back a smirk, but Corp expected the question. "I intended to question Smith's children, but when he disappeared—"

"Disappeared?" Mr. Wallis straightened up in his chair and for a moment his calm exterior showed concern.

"Yes sir," Corp continued, "we had the house under surveillance so we could apprehend him when he returned from Nova Scotia."

"Mr. Smith left the country." The annoyance in Mr. Wallis' voice seemed directed toward Goff.

Corp was back in control. "Yes sir, but through airport security surveillance, we were able to confirm his presence at BWI. Mr. Smith's vehicle was seen at the house, but we were unable to—"

"So what you're saying is that you lost him." Mr. Wallis glanced over at Goff, then back to Corp. "Will you excuse us agent?"

"If I must." Corp nodded toward Mr. Wallis then went out into the hallway. "Damn it!" He punched the wall across the hall. "What just happened?" Nothing angered him more than to be out of the loop. He could only surmise that Goff was reaming him a new one. If he was in there, he could at least defend his actions. Corp glanced down at his watch as the conference room door opened, it had been twenty minutes. A stern-faced Goff emerged and went straight to the elevator without acknowledging him. The bell rang, the elevator doors opened and Goff was gone.

"Agent Corp," Mr. Wallis called.

_Alright,_ Corp thought as he returned to the office, _damage control._ "I can explain—"

"Have a seat agent. Do you recognize the name Charles Pogue?"

"Pogue? Pogue, let me see," Corp said as he took a seat across from Mr. Wallis. "Was it a recent case?"

"Mr. Pogue was a Canadian inventor. In 1933, he claimed to have invented a carburetor that enabled a Model A to drive two hundred miles on a gallon of gasoline."

"Just folklore."

"The point is, the mere possibility that such a carburetor existed sent oil stocks on the Toronto exchange plummeting." Mr. Wallis leaned back in his chair, his hands once again clasped as if he were praying. "People today think of terrorism in terms of violence, like the 9/11 attacks. I'm sure you understand, while lives were lost, business and the government actually profited, a whole new agency was created, and a war on terror worth billions to American business was launched. No, the real threat to America is to its financial infrastructure. I don't think you comprehend the danger Mr. Smith's invention poses."

"Sir I—"

"Like Pogue's mythical carburetor, even if it doesn't work, rumors of such an invention could devastate the DOW and irrevocably damage the American economy. Now, let's suppose the engine works and could, say, power a car. The worldwide auto industry could collapse. Nobodies going to want to buy a car until the new engine is available. That leads to layoffs. Certainly the oil industry, as we know it, would be finished."

"I'd like to see what those Muslim bastards would do when they're left with their worthless shit-hole of sand. Probably insight world war three." Corp said.

"Now you've grasped the severity." Wallis leaned forward, changing the tone of the conversation. "You now take your orders from me. Any problem with that?"

"No sir, we think alike."

"Very well, who else knows about this?"

"Marty and Steve—I mean Agents Jensen and Rose."

"The two agents with you that night." Wallis confirmed.

"Yes sir. Well actually Agent Rose went in with me, but Marty helped us bring everything out."

"You're friends with _Marty_?"

"Yes sir, we went through the academy together and I'm his kid's godfather."

"Very well, I'll see that Agent Marty Jensen is transferred, but you'll have to take care of Agent Rose."

"Take care of? You mean—"

"You did grasp the severity? Be glad I'm telling you and not some other agent." Mr. Wallis got up from the table and walked to the door. "You'll see that everything here is destroyed, and one more thing Agent Corp, I hope your loyalty is what you portray it to be."

### Chapter 10

A cloud of exhaust vapor engulfed the rear of Eddie's car in the still evening air as his scraper grated across the windshield. Five years in South Carolina had thinned his blood plus it was just plain cold. He banged the ice off the scraper and climbed in behind the wheel. A quick glance in the rearview mirror and he dropped it into reverse and started down the driveway. As he backed out onto Hammond Branch, the headlights on the dark, blue Ford parked across the street came on. "Okay, here we go." The plan seemed simple enough as long as they reacted as expected. The Ford followed.

Eddie headed east on Route 216 and by the time he crossed Interstate 95, the fringes of frost around the windshield had melted. He was tempted to play with the tail although he knew he shouldn't, but when the light at All Saints Road turned yellow, he trounced on the accelerator just making it through the intersection before the light turned red.

The sound of a blaring horn drew his attention to the rearview mirror. He chuckled as the blue, Ford swerved, just missing a head on with another car. Eddie slowed, and turned into Evan's driveway. Evan met him at the door.

"So how's school?" Eddie said, following Evan inside.

"Kickin' my ass. Last final's tomorrow, then it's time to knock back some bruskies."

"Wait till you get to grad school." Eddie waited until Evan closed the door. "So I see you still have tags on the old Taurus."

"Yeah, been meaning to cancel them, but just haven't gotten around to it with finals. Why? What's up?"

"How long the tags good for?"

"Oh, don't tell me Mr. Mechanic's car is broken down."

"That'll be the day. No, it's for my old man."

"Absolutely, he's always been there when any of us needed help."

"Can't say for how long." Eddie cautioned. "Hell, can't even say if you'll get it back."

"Not worth much, I was going to donate it anyway. Everything okay?"

"Can't say." Eddie pulled out his wallet and handed Evan two twenties. "Mind filling it up and checking the tires and fluids?"

"A trip, huh?"

"I really appreciate it man. Dad should be around in an hour or so to pick it up. I don't know how to repay you."

"How 'bout when we graduate you come work for me."

"Right, I was going to offer you a job." Eddie turned and reached for the doorknob. "Feel like having a little fun?"

"What have you got in mind?"

After explaining, Eddie slipped out the backdoor, through the bushes to the neighbor's hedge. Right on cue, Evan came out of the house and went to Eddie's car. While the driver of the Ford was distracted, Eddie darted across the street and approached from behind. When Evan started Eddie's car, Eddie ran up to the driver's side window and rapped on the glass. The frazzled driver looked like he was going to wet himself. Eddie burst out laughing. "I'm going to the ATM, then the cell phone store to pay my bill. I'd feel terrible if you got lost." Eddie slapped the car on the roof. "Try to keep up."

Eddie and Evan said their goodbyes and Eddie headed out with the Ford in tow. He stopped at the ATM, then went to the cell phone store where he used an old, fake ID from his freshman days to purchase two new cell phones. Before leaving, he tossed the bag and stuck the phones in his pocket. The next stop was Burger King, and as he pulled into the parking lot, he saw Evan's old Taurus parked around back. "So far, so good." He parked in front and went directly to the men's room. "You here?" he said as he turned on the water and glanced down at the base of the stall.

The door swung inward and Josh replied, "In the flesh."

Eddie put his heel against the outer door. "Come on Dad, you've got to be more careful."

"Damndest place to say our goodbyes." Josh wrapped his arms around Eddie and gave him an unexpected hug.

"Not goodbyes." Eddie leaned back and pulled a phone out of his pocket. "This one's yours, my number is already programmed into it. Here's the charger and a few hundred bucks. Evan gave me a credit card, it has about three thousand on it, and I made a fake Mississippi driver's license with a composite image of you and Evan. It's close enough so no one should hassle you over it."

"Looks like you thought of everything." Josh's smile was obviously forced.

"You think she'll be okay with you just showin' up?"

"Yeah, we'll be fine."

Eddie started to have second thoughts. "Maybe this isn't such a great idea, I mean going to her place, they have to know you went to Canada."

"It'll be okay," Josh said, patting Eddie's arm. "Besides, her sister's boyfriend works in a machine shop, it's like it was meant to be."

"So how's that going?"

"Sarah and me? Remember Holly?"

"Your old dog?"

"We were inseparable, did everything together, best friends."

"She's no dog Dad." Suddenly the door banged against Eddie's heel. "I'll just be a minute."

"Sorry, I didn't realize it was occupied."

Eddie blocked the door to the stall with his hand as Josh started to close it and whispered. "You be careful. I'm counting on visiting you on that Caribbean island you're going to buy."

The fear on Josh's face was evident. "You take care of Peter and Missy."

"We'll show those bastards."

Josh smiled, then closed the door.

Eddie turned off the water, yanked out some paper towels, then opened the door. "Well, look who, out of the car and everything. What took so long?" Rose's glance into the bathroom was obvious. Eddie slipped past him, but stopped at the front door. Rose was starting into the bathroom. "Ah, ah, ah, nature will have to wait." Instead of going into the restaurant, Eddie went back out to his car. As he hoped, Agent Rose followed.

* * *

Eddie bounded down the stairs and stopped in the kitchen over looking the family room. "You guys watching the eleven o'clock news?" Neither Peter or Caitlin acknowledged him. "Come on, we've got this covered, everything's under control."

Caitlin turned toward him, her pale complexion ghostly white. "Look."

"Eddie?" Peter droned as he sat upright in his chair.

The news was showing a picture of Josh while the anchorwoman called him Ahmed Mohamed, a known terrorist, suspected of planning attacks against U.S. financial institutions. She went on to say he was known to use the alias 'Josh Smith'.

"Chill, we got it covered." Eddie tried to sound reassuring, but the stakes just got higher. "No need to panic. You guys packed?"

"I never actually unpacked," Peter replied.

"Me eith—" Caitlin froze at an unexpected knock at the front door.

Eddie glanced at the door, then back at Caitlin and Peter. "This will be the cops, just like we expected. All it means is they have no idea where Dad is. Make sure you keep it that way." Eddie hit the remote and changed the channel to country music. "Come on Caitlin, you can do this."

"What about Christmas?"

"We'll do something when we get back to my place. Here we go." Eddie opened the front door. The outer, glass door was already open, and two men pushed their way into the foyer before Eddie could react.

"I'm Agent Corp, this is Agent Rose." Both men flashed credentials.

"Homeland Security?" Eddie questioned. "You were more convincing as insurance agents."

Corp pulled an envelope out of his pocket and flicked it at Eddie. "I'm seizing this property as evidence—"

"Evidence that you're a moron? You may have a beef with my Dad, but not with us."

Corp drew his gun and backed Eddie into the kitchen. Rose went upstairs with a duffle bag slung over his shoulder. "You'll be leaving now." Corp said.

Eddie stared at the gun as Caitlin and Peter came to the steps. "Our stuff is upstairs."

Corp yelled up to Rose. "Throw their suitcases down!" There was a crash of broken glass, followed shortly by another. Corp grinned. "They're on the driveway."

"We'll be getting our coats." Eddie kept Peter and Caitlin behind him as they eased around Corp into the foyer. Peter and Caitlin grabbed their coats off the railing and put them on. Caitlin handed Eddie his. "You steal my father's Luger," Eddie said to Corp.

"You recognize it." Corp called up the stairs again. "You ready?"

"All ready."

Eddie thought he caught a momentary whiff of kerosene.

"Do it!" Corp yelled.

Eddie backed Caitlin and Peter out the front door. "Get in the car."

"Eddie?" Caitlin whimpered.

"Now!" Eddie reached into his pocket and then tossed Peter the keys. "Put our stuff in the trunk." He waited until Peter and Caitlin were around the corner, then took a step toward Corp. "I don't know what you think my old man did, but you'll pay for this."

Corp retreated to the base of the stairs and waved the Luger at Eddie. "I've heard some of these old pieces are quite sensitive." Corp pointed the gun up the stairs and squeezed off two rounds

"What the fuc—" Agent Rose's body tumbled into the foyer.

Corp glanced down. "Who's finger prints do you suppose are on the gun, yours or your father's?" Corp motioned Eddie toward the front door. "Being a college boy and all, you get the general idea? If I learn you're hiding your father—consider yourself warned. Now beat it."

Eddie backed away to his car and slipped in behind the wheel.

"Eddie!" Caitlin screamed.

"Holy crap," Peter droned, staring out the window.

Even through the windshield, Eddie could feel the heat from the ball of fire that rolled out of the bedroom windows. Eddie slammed the car into reverse. The undercarriage bottomed out when he swung around onto the street, but without hesitation, he jammed it into drive and trounced on the accelerator.

"Our stuff," Peter gasped.

"Eddie!" Caitlin cried. "We can't leave, we have to do something."

"Here," Eddie said, tossing his cell phone at her. "Call 911."

"What good will that do?" Peter mumbled.

Eddie glanced over at Peter, then in the rearview mirror. Caitlin was near hysterics, hardly able to make the call. He waited until she hung up. "No looking back you hear. From now on, we only look forward or we'll lose more than our house."

The fire engines were rolling out of the Cherry Tree station when Eddie turned south on Route 29. Caitlin sank down on the seat in tears.

"Easy man," Peter said.

Eddie looked down at the speedometer not realizing he was doing eighty miles an hour and let off the gas.

"You okay?" Peter whispered. "I thought I heard gunshots back there."

"I'm fine." Eddie nodded toward the back seat. "We gotta look out for each other, these guys are hardcore."

"Damn," Peter said, shaking his head, "I still can't believe they torched our house. I mean they're the Feds—they're supposed to be the good guys."

"We better give the car a once over and stock up for the trip."

"How about the CITGO in Burtonsville? It's well lit and I think it's open this late."

Eddie rolled into the gas station a few minutes later. He sent Caitlin into the mini-mart while he and Peter went over the car. Sure enough, they found a tracking device under the back bumper. A quick look around and Eddie stuck it under the spare tire of an SUV at the next pump. "That ought to keep 'em occupied."

Caitlin returned with an arm load of junk food, a two liter bottle of Dr. Pepper and three cups of ice. Peter grabbed the soda and he and Caitlin got in the car. Eddie topped off the tank, then got in. Caitlin poured and they passed around the junk food, but no one said anything.

Eddie pulled out his new cell phone. "Listen guys, I know it was a little intense back there, but—"

"A little?" Caitlin interrupted. "We lost everything."

"No we didn't." Eddie pushed the send button and handed the phone to Caitlin.

"I'm not in the mood."

"Just answer the phone."

"Fine." Caitlin put the phone up to her ear. "Daddy? Daddy is that you?... Yeah, we're fine, but—"

Eddie caught her eye in the mirror and shook his head.

"We're fine Daddy, we're on our way back to school.... Me too, it won't seem like Christmas. We've never been apart at Christmas before.... I know..."

They were on Route 66 in Virginia when Caitlin handed the phone back to Eddie. "Can we listen to Christmas carols?"

"Sure." Eddie hit the radio's scan button. The Christmas music lightened the somber mood, and Caitlin and Peter soon fell asleep. He had simplified an enormous undertaking to convince his dad it would work, but as he began to consider the details, it was overwhelming. _What if it doesn't work?_ he thought. _I'm risking my graduate degree maybe—No! we're talking about my family the most important thing is Dad's immediate safety and keeping Caitlin and Peter off of Homeland Security's radar._ He was running on caffeine when they pulled into the gas station. As he filled the tank, the phone rang. "Hey Dad."

"Where are you guys?" Josh said.

"The BP in Blacksburg."

"Ah yes, I guess the McDonalds isn't open just yet."

"Couple more hours. Not that it matters, Peter and Caitlin are asleep." Eddie smiled, it was funny how his dad remembered trivial things like the stop in Blacksburg. "Guess you better not say where you are, just in case."

"Let's just say it's cold. You have to thank Evan for me."

"It's all taken care of Dad. He was glad to help out."

"Listen, I stopped at a little place to grab something to eat—have you heard any news?"

Eddie didn't want to alarm Josh about what they'd seen, so he played dumb. "No, Caitlin wanted to listen to Christmas music."

"They say I'm a terrorist." Josh's voice sank on the word terrorist. "Even said I killed some Homeland Security Agent."

"Nobody recognized you did they?"

"Nah, couple of truck drivers and a cute young waitress, they were more interested in her and I think she was working on a little side job, if you know what I mean."

"We knew this kind of thing might happen, they're just upping the stakes." Eddie didn't like the defeatist tone in Josh's voice. He knew if Josh suspected they were in any danger, he'd turn himself in. Eddie's hope and reason for sending Josh north, was that Sarah might keep his spirits up. "One more thing Dad, maybe you better ditch the car and catch a bus into Canada. That Maryland tag might be a red flag."

"I was thinking the same thing, bus sounds like a good alternative. I'll ditch the car somewhere near Maine. Sorry about messing up Christmas."

"No big deal, I'll do something for Caitlin back at my place. Besides, I'm counting on spending next Christmas on that Caribbean island of yours. You take care, keep out of sight and let me know when you get there."

"Okay, talk to you."

Eddie closed the phone and dropped it back in his pocket. Could they really pull one over on the government? For the first time since third grade reading class, Eddie felt overwhelmed. Everything had to fall in place just right or the whole thing could blow up in their faces. The thought of Josh in prison, or worse, hardened Eddie's resolve, but he knew all their lives could be ruined.

* * *

Josh shook his head to jar his bleary eyes back into focus. He'd past the 'Welcome to Maine' sign just a few miles back. _Maybe I should call her,_ he thought, _warn her I'm coming. Ah, what am I thinking, look at the time, besides idiot, you don't have her number. Maybe I should stop. No, the sooner I get across the boarder the better._ The whir of rumble strips snapped him out of another daze. _I have to stop, before I wind up in a ditch._ He took the next exit ramp and eased into a small New England town. Just past the traffic light a vacancy sign flashed outside a small roadside motel. Josh pulled into the parking lot. He paid cash for the room and asked the attendant about the closest bus station. Ten minutes later, he was sacked out in a room.

As he stared out into the dark room, his thoughts went back to Sarah. He was nervous about seeing her again. There was no mistaking the awkwardness the morning before he left, but even so, he wouldn't have traded that night for the world. He'd always been faithful to Betty, she was his first, his only, until Sarah, but that night with Sarah was like watching a rose bloom on a warm summer day, how could you witness that and be anything but enthralled? He hadn't slept a wink that night, he just lay there watching her sleep in his arms and prayed morning would never come. But it did, and when she woke, they got dressed and that night wasn't mentioned again. He wanted to know what she was thinking, but didn't want to make her uncomfortable by asking. It was probably just a heat of the moment thing, nothing more, but there was no mistaking the warmth she put in his heart. He fell asleep imagining he was holding her like he did that night.

The next morning, he drove to the bus station, parked around back and removed the tags before catching the bus. Again he paid cash to avoid leaving a trail. He had to transfer twice, and it was evening before they pulled into Digby. _Now what?_ he thought as he sat down on a bench in the corner of the terminal. _Wait a minute._ Josh pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and stared at the business card in the credit card slot. He hesitated, but there wasn't any other choice.

"Sarah? Is that you?"

"Josh?"

"Yeah. I thought this was Shelly's number—not that I wouldn't call you—but I don't have your number—I had Shelly's because she gave me her card when she dropped me off at your place, but I would have called you if—"

"It's okay, I understand. Where are you?"

"Well, that's what I was calling about. I'm at the bus station in Digby."

"Digby! What on earth are you doing there? Did you miss your flight?"

"Actually, I've been home and back. You see, I'm in a bit of a pickle and was wondering if you might be willing to put me up for a few days."

"Put you up, you mean like stay with me?"

"It wouldn't be like that, I mean I'd be a perfect gentleman, it's just—"

"Hold on, Shell's calling." Sarah covered the receiver. "What? I'm on the phone and you'll never guess with who." Sarah walked into the family room. She was startled by Shelly's blank stare. "What?"

Shelly nodded toward the television.

"Oh my God." Sarah took her hand off the receiver. "Josh what—"

"You've seen the news. I can explain, it's not what it looks like."

"Stay out of sight, I'll be there in twenty minutes."

### Chapter 11

"Dudes!" Matt crooned as Eddie led Peter and Caitlin into his apartment. "Like what are you guys' doin' here?" All three dropped their stuff just inside the door. Caitlin didn't stop, but went directly into Eddie's room and closed the door.

"What are you watching?" Peter asked, pushing past Eddie and plopping down on the sofa next to Matt.

"Dude, it's the Clemson, Florida State game."

"You record it?"

"Duh. We like so trashed them this year, thought it'd make a great primer for bowl season. Grab a beer."

Matt and Peter started doing the tomahawk chop chanting, "We hate Seminoles they suck—"

"Guys, guys," Eddie said, Caitlin's trying to sleep.

Matt turned to Eddie. "Hope you don't mind me crashin' at your place, but I had to watch this on the big screen. So what's up?"

"It'll have to wait, I haven't slept in thirty hours." Since Caitlin was in his room, Eddie flopped onto the old recliner.

"You need a beer? Of course you do. Peter, grab Eddie a beer."

Eddie popped the top and knocked down half the beer. His body was already numb from lack of sleep and he knew a beer, even one, would knock him out. Peter was already engrossed in the game, he was like that with sports and like most students, couldn't get enough Clemson football.

"This is like totally cool that you're here for the holidays. We gotta have a party."

Eddie finished his beer and banked the can off the refrigerator into the trash can. "That old barn of yours still standing?"

"Now you're talking. You thinking kegger?"

"Nobodies here Matt, everyone's gone home for break. The equipment still in the shop?"

Matt crushed his beer can on his forehead and then tossed it toward the kitchen without looking. It skipped off the island countertop and landed in the sink. "So what we building?"

Eddie smiled. He and Matt had that kind of connection.

"Awesome."

"Here's the thing though, nobody can know."

"Like mums the word little Eddie."

Matt hadn't called him that since junior year and it was a sure sign he was two sheets to the wind. Eddie's six-one, two hundred pounds was slight compared to Matt's six-four, three-ten, hence the little Eddie. "This is serious Matt."

"Sure, anything after bowl season."

"We might have to miss a few games."

Matt's arms fell to his sides in animated disbelief. "This is serious."

"Touchdown!" Peter yelled.

Matt jumped up and slapped five with Peter. "We so kicked their asses." Then they started the chant again. "We hate Seminoles..." And just like that, Matt's attention was back to the recorded game. If ever their was an ultimate Clemson fan, Matt was it. Peter was a close second. Eddie leaned the recliner back and closed his eyes.

* * *

Four hours later, Eddie was doing seventy miles an hour on a two lane road through the foothills, trying to keep up with Matt. As he rounded a curve, he suddenly slammed on the brakes as Matt's pickup disappeared in a cloud of dust.

"Jesus!" Caitlin screamed. "Did they crash?"

Eddie waited until the dust settled to reveal a splintered fence rail swinging precariously from it's post. "Yep, missed the turn. The entrance should be just up ahead." Eddie drove another twenty yards and turned onto a dirt road. "This looks familiar, the barn should be just over that hill." A short drive through a wooded fence line and Eddie pulled in next to Matt's truck. Matt and Peter were leaning up against the truck downing another beer.

"What took you so long?" Peter teased.

Eddie and Caitlin climbed out of the car into waist deep field grass. In front of them stood the dilapidated, sun-bleached remains of an old barn. The door on the right was closed, but the left one hung perilously from one hinge. Further down the side, the wood planking was peppered with bullet holes from their shooting excursions. There were still two bullet-riddled targets pinned to the wall. Eddie pointed toward the one with the center blown out. "Don't you still owe me for that?"

"No way dude, I paid you in beer."

"You can't be serious," Caitlin said, "this place looks like it could cave in at any minute."

"Looked like that for as long as I can remember," Matt replied.

"Let's have a look inside." Eddie led them through the door. With no lights, and no power for that matter, the only illumination was the afternoon sun filtering through the vertically, planked walls. They walked into the middle of the spacious room. The rotted remains of an old wagon cluttered the far corner, but the rest of the earthen floor was bare. Eddie examined the roof and except for an occasional bullet hole, the basic structure seemed sound.

"Oh look," Caitlin cooed.

"Beat it! Scram!" Matt yelled. "Damn raccoons. I think half the county's coon population was conceived in here."

"Okay Matt," Eddie said, "now for the real test."

"It's over here." Matt led Eddie to a doorway under the loft and pushed the door open. "There should be a—here it is. Now if the batteries still work." Matt banged the flashlight against his palm until it cast a faint beam into the dark room. Four musty canvas tarps with a thick layer of dust covered workbenches. The equipment on top the benches pushed up bulges in the canvas here and there so they looked like a miniature landscape. Another raccoon scampered off as Matt's light passed over him. "What'a ya think?"

"The equipment still work?"

"Best I can remember."

"Then we're a go." Eddie and Matt rejoined the others. "Pete, think you can find your way back here?"

"Sure, hang a left at the whole in the fence and follow the dirt road to Hicksville."

Eddie turned to Matt. "The rental store open?"

"Till five I think." He glanced at his watch. "You got plenty of time."

"Pete, you and Caitlin head back to Easley. I want a gas generator, some of those construction lights, a portable frig, one of those eight foot party tables—no, better make that two, half a dozen chairs and an engine hoist. See if you can get a monthly rate."

"Whoa, whoa, no way that's going to fit in your car." Peter said.

"Matt?"

"Sure Pete, take my truck." Matt busted out laughing. "Oh wait, I forgot you can't drive a stick."

"I'll drive," Caitlin said.

"Oh dude, a girl—no, your sister has to drive you."

Peter turned to Eddie ignoring Matt's dig. "And I'm paying for this how?"

Eddie drug a wad of cash out of his pocket and handed Peter a handful. "On the way back, grab a few pizzas."

"We in a hurry?" Matt said as he and Eddie followed Peter and Caitlin to the door.

"Something like that."

Matt snatched a couple of bills out of Eddie's hand, reached down and drug a rusty old watering tin out of the grass. "Keys."

Eddie handed him his car keys.

Matt hit the remote trunk release and tossed the watering tin in the back. It hit with a thunderous clang. Matt slammed the trunk closed. "I'll spring for the first keg. It'll be just like old times."

Eddie slapped him on the back as Matt climbed in behind the wheel. It was important work, but there was no reason it couldn't be fun. "I'll get started."

Matt shook his head. "Work before beer? Now there's a concept."

* * *

Tina stood on the deck of Brad's sailboat, soaked to the bone, yet warm in his embrace. In the distance, the storm that threatened their lives had been reduced to flickering clouds. Beneath her feet, the deck rolled gently on the calming sea. The sun crested the horizon, painting the clouds in hues of passion, bathing them in it's warmth. _He's older,_ Tina thought, _old enough to be my father, but I don't care._ Tina looked up into Brad's eyes and their lips met in a kiss that quelled any lingering fears. She melted into his arms and they sank to the deck. The sun tingled on her bare skin and they made love, as sweet, as natural, and as innocent as it could ever be. A light rain brought a rainbow as if heaven were trumpeting her rebirth. She was a woman again.

"That's it." Sarah jerked up in bed. "Heaven trumpeted her rebirth. I've got to get that down." She swung her feet over the edge of the bed and started for the stairs wearing just a black sweatshirt. The days of covering every inch of skin were behind her. "Josh!" she gasped at the bottom of the stairs.

Josh looked up from the sofa with a surprised smile, and raised a brow. Sarah returned the smile, realizing she wasn't wearing sweatpants, and modestly bent her right leg. Would he open his arms to her? God she hoped so. Tina and Brad could wait. Josh blushed and turned his head. Sarah's heart sank. "Sorry about that, I forgot." She retreated to her bedroom and got dressed.

When she came back downstairs, she found Josh in the kitchen pouring a glass of diet root beer. "Mind pouring me one?"

"Sure."

"So, you sleep alright? That old bed isn't too soft is it?"

"The bed's fine and I guess I slept as well as could be expected." His voice seemed cold, but more like he was hiding his emotions. "Have any packages arrived?"

"No, I don't—" The doorbell rang. "I wonder who that could be?" Sarah went to the door, but before opening it, looked back. Josh had moved out of direct sight from the doorway. She opened the door.

"Mornin' ma'am, I have a package for Miss Sarah Hill."

"That's me."

"Need your John Hancock right here." He extended his digital clipboard toward Sarah.

She signed and he handed her the package. "Thanks." She closed the door and then took the package to the kitchen. "A Christmas present? Josh, you shouldn't have."

"Christmas? Christ I forgot. Wait here, I'll be right back."

"But—"

Josh ran upstairs, returning quickly with a small, foil wrapped box. "I brought this with me on my first visit, but I got distracted with—well, you know. Anyway, Merry Christmas. Go ahead, open it."

Sarah peeled back the delicate, lace bow and gold, foil paper to reveal a slender suede box. "Josh!" she gasped when she opened the top.

Josh was beaming when he took the box from her. He removed the diamond necklace and set the box on the table. Sarah pulled back her hair and Josh stepped behind her. Her heart was pounding as he fumbled with the clasp, his warm breath cascading across her neck. He did care for her, he was just being gallant before. She glanced up at the kitchen clock. There was time before Shelly stopped by. Perhaps on the living room sofa, or maybe he'd carry her back upstairs. His hands grasped her waist and she let her hair fall.

"Let's have a look," he said as he turned her around to face him. "It's perfect. Friends forever."

'Friends' pierced her heart like a dagger. "I—I don't know what to say. I don't deserve—"

"Au contraire, I couldn't ask for a better friend."

There was that word again. How could she have been so wrong? He came back, he wanted her, he had to. She was fighting back tears when another knock at the front door startled her. "Oh my God. I forgot, Marina."

Josh grabbed the box that was just delivered, the one that contained the shredded plans. "Not a word."

"Cross my heart."

Josh quietly, raced up the stairs.

Sarah hesitated. _My broken heart,_ she thought, then opened the door. "You're late, what kept you?" It was no surprise Marina's eyes went straight to the necklace, but it was only a quick glance and odd she didn't say anything. "Shall we?" They went into the kitchen. "Would you like tea?"

"Not today dear, I can't stay but a minute."

Marina was known for overstaying her welcome and a short visit only meant she was eager to blab her discovery of Sarah's new necklace all over town.

"So what do you think?" Sarah said, leaning forward to showoff the necklace. "It just came."

"Oh my," Marina said as though she hadn't noticed. She tilted her head back to examine the diamond through her bifocals. "Is that the going rate these days?"

"Marina! You know I'd never—"

"I saw you and that man the other night. Really dear, right out in public like that, I'd have thought you—"

"It wasn't like that, Jo—" Sarah caught herself.

"Joe, John, it doesn't matter. By the size of that stone, I'd say one of those 'Little Brook' boys."

Sarah sank down onto one of the kitchen chairs. What was going to be a short visit already felt excruciatingly long.

"Really dear, you know those boys only come over here looking for a cheap thrill. Probably had a fight with his girlfriend or even worse, his wife. You should think better of yourself. Nothing good ever came from consorting with the likes of such snobbery."

Sarah rolled the solitaire between her fingers. "It was a present from my editor."

"I'm sure it was. Well, I really must be going."

Sarah escorted her to the door and said goodbye.

"Tears?" Josh said from the bottom of the stairs.

Sarah quickly wiped them away. "It's nothing, just Marina being Marina."

"Still, I didn't mean for it to be an embarrassment."

Josh stepped toward her, the door bumped her and Sarah found herself in Josh's arms.

Shelly stepped through the doorway and grinned. "I'm not interrupting anything am I?"

"No!" Sarah said, pushing away from Josh.

"I could come back."

"Shell." Sarah warned.

"Isn't that pretty. An early Christmas present?"

Sarah's hand went to the diamond. "It's a friendship necklace."

"Some friend." Shelly winked at Josh.

"So Shell—" Josh said, "you don't mind if I call you that since we're family and all—I need you and Sarah's help and probably Clifford's for that matter." They all went into the kitchen and sat down around the table. "So here's the deal, I need to make, or have made, a part, but to do so, I need to print schematics."

"Sarah has a computer."

"You're afraid to leave an image on the hard drive," Sarah said to Josh. "I have an old laptop I haven't used in years."

"Can I destroy it?" Josh said.

"Is that really necessary?"

"Afraid so." Josh pulled a thumb-drive from under his collar. "If your computer has a USB port, we might be in business."

They went into the dining room and Sarah found the laptop under a pile of papers. As luck would have it, it had a USB port. Josh set it up, connected it to her printer, and plugged in his thumb-drive. Once the printer started, he turned to Shelly. "Is Clifford a decent fabricator?"

"The best we've got."

"Can he keep a secret?"

Shelly scooted closer. "What secret?"

Sarah nudged her under the table with her foot.

"I need him to make a part. He doesn't need to know what for. Eddie's going to make the rest. When we're finished, I'll send the part down to him to make the final assembly."

"What if they're watching his mail?" Sarah asked.

"Who's watching?" Shelly asked.

Sarah kicked her under the table again. "I'll take it."

"What?" Shelly and Josh said simultaneously.

"The part, I'll take it. I've been meaning to spread my wings, a little junket to the states might be just the ticket." Sarah could tell from the look on Shelly's face, she was in shock. "Oh, come on, you've been trying to get me out of this house for years. Here's your chance. So what's next?"

Josh looked at Shelly. "We've got to get Clifford to buy into it."

Sarah glanced up at the clock. "Tell you what. If I start now, I can make my famous spaghetti. Why don't you ask Clifford over for supper?"

"How about I have him stop for a movie?"

"It's not a date, Shell," Sarah said, shaking her head. "It's not a date."

### Chapter 12

It was nearly a week after New Years and Eddie was sitting in his car outside the Engineering Department fidgeting with the CD player. He'd talked to Dr. Beasley hundreds of times, they had a strong student, teacher, as well as personal relationship, but this was different. Eddie wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and stared at Dr. Beasley's office window.

Despite the New Year's kegger, they'd managed to pull everything together. He'd agreed to enlist Brandon into the group. Brandon was an old friend of Matt's and had worked his way through trade school as a machinist. He brought a needed expertise to the group. At Brandon's suggestion, they'd even run a few tests on the equipment. Everything was in place, now the ball was in Eddie's court.

The way he saw it, he had two options; one, drop out of school and build the engine on his own, or two, convince Dr. Beasley to back the effort. Given the events thus far, option two seemed like the only plausible choice. Eddie climbed out of his car and closed the door. "Show time." It was a quiet walk to the Engineering Building, this being the first day back for the teachers. There were still a few days before the students were due back. His resolve built as he jogged up the stairs and opened the front door.

"Edward, fancy running into you."

"Dr. Beasley, nice to see you again. Did you have a nice Christmas? I was hoping—"

"I did, thank you. It must have been a difficult one for your family."

"You have no idea."

"So what brings you back early, trying to impress ol' Chudnovsky?"

"Actually, I came to see you."

"Well then, why don't we walk over to the cafeteria, I'm famished."

"I was hoping we could talk privately, sir."

"I see." Dr. Beasley pulled his wallet out of his suit coat and handed Eddie ten dollars. "I'll have a cinnamon raisin bagel, cream cheese on the side and a large coffee, one sugar. Get yourself something, I'll be in my office." Dr. Beasley waved and started down the hall.

As Eddie strolled back across campus, he thought how serene it seemed and what a drastic change a few days would make when the students returned. Would their invention make the same kind of change to the world? The potential certainly seemed to be there. Fame didn't lure him, it was the challenge.

"Here you go, sir. I had them lightly toast the bagel."

"Ah, very good, I'm surprised you remembered. That's not true, you don't miss much."

"No sir, not much." Eddie set the food on Dr. Beasley's desk. "Change is in the bag."

"An honest lad, your parents raised you right. Speaking of your parents, how's your father holding up?"

"Do you watch the news?"

"No! That wasn't your father. I assumed the man just bore a striking resemblance."

"No sir, it was him."

The color drained from Dr. Beasley's face making him look very old. He pushed back from his desk. "What's it all about?"

Eddie closed the door and sat down across from his desk then took a sip of soda before beginning. "Do you remember when Peter and I ran into you outside the library final week?"

"Certainly. You know I heard Peter maintained his 4.0 even with your mother's passing." Dr. Beasley removed the lid on his Styrofoam cup, filling the room with the aroma of fresh coffee.

"We spent that night working on a fluids equation."

"I was under the impression young Peter wasn't particularly interested in engineering."

"He's not, but I needed his mathematics expertise."

"You?"

"Shocking, I know." Eddie laughed and took another sip of soda. "Do you remember my BMW project?"

"Ah yes, a novel approach, just what those old boys needed."

"Dad was restoring my grandfather's old Sears lawn tractor—"

"They don't build them like that any more."

"No, they don't, the words 'Made in China' seem to have replaced American innovation. Anyway, Dad had the transaxle open when I was home for break. The idea came from the shift fork detent."

"It was a novel application." Dr. Beasley glanced down at his watch.

"The point is, Dad likes to tinker and like the shift detent idea, thinks the answers to everything lie in the past."

Dr. Beasley nodded.

"So, when we were home for my mother's funeral, I found a project he was working on. When I asked him about it, he claimed it ran on perpetual motion."

"There's no such thing as—"

"That's what I told him, the pump was just the motivator for an electric motor. That night, I got to looking at the plans he built it from. The title block called it a Klem but—"

"Ah yes, one of the more recent myths. The 1970's I believe."

"Yes sir, that's the one. Anyway, the equations are what drew my attention. They were all wrong of course, but the way they were wrong is what struck me. There seemed to be a pattern, almost intentional. After Peter and I finished in the library that day, we went back to my place to work on the equation. I finally got so frustrated, I tossed it, but Peter said I was too wrapped up in the engineering principals."

"Ah yes, the old 'can't see the forest for the trees'."

"Exactly. So, Peter took the equation and changed all the nomenclature. After he solved the equation, I put the engineering variables back in, but in doing so, the equation no longer worked."

"Not particularly surprising."

"I agree, given that it flew in the face of what we're learning in fluids, but, big 'BUT' here, we reordered the equation and this time, the result was power."

"Power?"

"Yes sir. I called Dad and told him about it, and how a simple change might make it work; but at the same time, I warned him not to attempt it until we came home for the holidays. To make a long story short, he didn't wait. He turned a wooden model on his lathe, put it on my old mini-bike and effectively shot himself out of the garage. He crashed on the hill across the street."

"You're telling me your father built a working Klem?"

"Whatever you want to call it, it worked." Eddie had a sinking feeling as Dr. Beasley rocked back in his chair, stroking the whiskers on his chin. Obviously he hadn't presented it well enough or Dr. Beasley would be jumping with excitement.

"You'll forgive my skepticism, but these stories surface every so many years. When you live as long as I have, you've seen your share. You're a smart young man, I'd hate to see you squander your potential on a myth. You should—"

"If I can show you, will you back me?"

"You're quite serious."

"I am."

"I'm not sure who's the bigger fool. What do you need from me?"

"Your patience, give me a month to produce a working prototype. If I'm successful, then I'll need your help."

"What are you proposing?"

"If this is real, like my father insists, then the government's assault on him is no coincidence. If I try this on my own, they'll bury it, maybe me in the process, but if Clemson backs the project, then—"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. I'll make some inquiries, on the QT of course. If you can demonstrate a working prototype, we'll work from there."

"I knew it," Eddie said, jumping up from his chair, startling Dr. Beasley. "I knew you'd help."

"One thing, I don't want you to let this interfere with your studies."

"I won't." They shook hands. "You won't be sorry, I swear."

"No matter the outcome, I applaud your enthusiasm. Good luck."

* * *

With elbows on the kitchen table, Josh rested his chin on clasped hands and continued to stare at the blueprint of Clifford's device. So far everything was working out and they had the basic cone machined within a few millimeters of the final dimensions. Clifford, being an experienced machinist, determined they needed to design a tool to precisely machine the all important groove. Tonight, they should finish constructing that tool and possibly make a test cut on a piece of scrap. If it worked, they could do the final machining.

Josh looked up at the huge cloud of steam that billowed from the sink as Sarah poured off the water from the noodles. She was wearing some of the clothes she'd gotten for Christmas. The jeans Shelly had given her clung to her hips and followed her graceful curves like a second skin. Her hair was pulled back in a short ponytail that bounced on the collar of a new cotton shirt. The black shirt rode up around her waist revealing the dimples in her lower back. Josh's thoughts drifted back to the night he grasped her buttocks, his thumbs tracing those very dimples.

"What?" Sarah said, glancing over her shoulder.

"Nothing." Josh's heart jumped into his throat like that time in elementary school when the teacher caught him staring at Mary Beth. "It smells great. I think Shell's right, you make the world's best spaghetti." He looked back down at the drawing to hide his embarrassment. He glanced up once as Sarah returned to her cooking. _God I love you_ , he thought, but she'd made it clear she didn't feel that way about him. There was her modesty on the stairs that morning. He was sleeping in the guest room, she didn't even respond to the present, calling it a friendship necklace and when Shelly suggested it was a double date, Sarah had been emphatic that it wasn't a date. He was disappointed, but he'd loved her from afar for years and he would always have their night together.

"Whaaaatttt?" Sarah turned around and leaned back against the counter. "Don't tell me, nothing."

"You should get your belly button pierced, you know one of those dangly ones." Josh's exhale felt like a blowtorch as it fanned the beads of sweat that had formed on his upper lip. _God that was stupid. Why don't you just say you're staring at her as if she were naked._

"Josh! I don't even have pierced ears. What's going on?"

"Could I ask you a personal question?"

"Sure, anything, we don't have any secrets."

"How do you manage without a job? I mean before you got the publishing deal."

"Oh that."

Josh was perplexed, was the droop in her shoulders disappointment or relief? Was it possible she cared more than she let on?

"Mom left the house to Shell and I when she passed. Shell said it was okay if I wanted to live here. I'd saved up some money from my job at the fish factory—"

"You made fish?"

"Very funny. I worked on the sorting machine. It paid the bills."

"So you've lived at home your whole life."

"Guess you could say that." Sarah pushed away from the counter and started toward him. Her pace was slow as though she were nervous. "There's something I need to tell you."

The back door burst open in a swirl of snow. "Tell me what?" Shelly said, stepping in and stomping off her feet.

"Supper's almost ready." Sarah returned to the stove.

"Perfect timing once again. Can you believe how deep the snow's getting?"

"Am I going to have trouble getting to the shop?" Josh asked as he stood.

"Sit," Shelly said, "you've got time to eat." Shelly took off her coat, hung it on the peg behind the door, then sat down next to Josh. "Clifford won't tell me a thing, so how's the little project coming?"

"Right on schedule. He came up with a nice little tool to make the cuts more precise. He's pretty remarkable."

"Told you. He's probably the smartest man in Weymouth."

Sarah carried the food over to the table and sat down with them.

"I swear," Shelly said, "she knows how to cook more than just spaghetti."

"Ahhh," Josh replied, "when you can taste heaven, who needs anything else."

They all laughed. Josh said grace and they dug in. Shelly reminded Josh of Eddie, she was confident, boisterous and not afraid to say what she thought. She was just plain fun. Josh could see Sarah like that. Sure she wasn't now, but maybe in time. "So Shell, how are you and Clifford getting on?"

"Like brother and sister."

"Incest legal in Nova Scotia?"

"Very funny. Clifford's a dear, but his shyness could drive a wanton woman crazy."

"Shell!" Sarah choked on a bite of food.

"Sounds like what Clifford needs is a little guy talk?"

"Don't you dare." Shelly punched Josh in the arm.

"Hey, I can be discrete, just a couple of guys around the cooler, or maybe over a beer. Kind of point him in the right direction." Josh bobbed his brow.

"That's not the right direction."

Sarah's face turned as red as the spaghetti sauce.

"Seriously though," Josh said, scooping out another helping of spaghetti. "Clifford and I are almost finished. So, we need to finalize the arrangements for Sarah to transport the part."

"When?" Sarah asked.

"A week to be certain, just in case we run into any problems."

"What do I have to do?"

"The way security is these days, you'll have to buy the airline ticket, but Shell, we can make up a fake purchase from your boutique and I'll use my credit card to repay you."

"Won't they be able to trace it," Sarah said. "I mean, we are sisters."

"The credit card belongs to a friend of Eddie's. Eddie made me a fake ID so I can use it. No one should be the wiser. Clifford and I figure we can disguise the cone like a meat grinder or a Christmas decoration. We'll pack it and put it in a suitcase that you check. Eddie can meet you at the airport—no, maybe it would be better if Caitlin met you, just in case they're watching. Oh, I know, Caitlin said her roommate dropped out this semester, so you could crash at her place for the night."

"You mean stay over?"

"Sure, I'm sure you two will hit it off. Caitlin can be a lot of fun. Besides, a one day trip might arouse suspicion if they're watching. So, how does that sound?"

"Do you think they are—watching?" There was an edge of fear in Sarah's voice.

"No, I'm sure we're just being overly cautious. They probably haven't given you a second thought." Josh wiped his mouth and stood. "Clifford will be wondering what happened to me, guess I better get going. Any questions?"

Sarah and Shelly shook their heads.

"Okay then." Josh put on Shelly's parka and pulled up the fringed hood. The keys were in the pocket as usual. "You gals are great. Don't wait up." With that, Josh waded out through the knee-deep snow to her mini-van. The cold made his bones ache, but there was something exhilarating about the snow. Maybe it was a remnant of childhood excitement over the occasional snow storm. On the way to the shop, he called Eddie.

"Hey Dad, what's up?"

"Looks like we're on for next week. I'll know for sure after tonight."

"Sounds good. We had some problems with the lathe, but I think we've got it worked out. I'll do my best, but I think we can have the housing ready by then. How you getting it down here?"

"Going to send it via a friend, don't trust the mail. Have you heard anything?"

"No, and it's got me worried. It's like they dropped off the face of the earth. No way they've dropped this, so you be careful, stay out of sight."

"No problem, everyone up here dresses like Eskimos this time of year." Josh pulled around back of Clifford's shop. "You really think we can pull this off?"

"All we can do is try. I've been thinking about the flat power band."

"Any idea how to fix it?"

"I don't think it needs fixing. A diesel engine has a very low RPM power range that's why they use them in diesel electric trains. Maybe we can do something similar."

"Like a hybrid."

"Without all the complicated energy recapturing. A Clem-electric with a C."

"For Clemson. Then you talked to Dr. Beasley."

"I told him I'd show him a working prototype in a month."

"Well, we better get to it. I'll let you know when the part's on the way. I think you should let Caitlin pick it up, just in case."

"Okay. Keep your head down. Talk later."

Josh closed the phone and shut off the engine. Eddie's warning alarmed him, but he'd wondered the same thing. Had the government gone underground to try and find him? What ends would they go to to stop them? An eerie foreboding fell over him. He'd involved too many people, his family, Sarah, Shelly, Clifford. Was it fair to risk their lives on his stupid dream? Maybe he should just drive to the local police station and turn himself in. "I can ask for asylum," Josh mumbled. "That's what I'll do." Josh started the engine, but when he tried to back out, the wheels spun, he was stuck. Clifford opened the rear door as Josh shut off the engine.

### Chapter 13

Sarah glanced down at her suitcase, feeling a little like a secret agent, and then at the clock over the baggage claim counter. She'd been on the ground for twenty minutes and no Caitlin. She eyed the thinning crowd, mentally comparing it against the picture Josh had shown her. Her heart leapt into her throat as an airport security guard strolled past a second time, giving her a visual once over. _What was I thinking volunteering?_ She thought. _I had to go and be Miss Proactive. I knew I wasn't ready for something like this. Now what?_ At the far end of the corridor, the security guard turned and started back toward her. _I don't want to be here when he returns. Maybe I should wait at the main entrance._ The knot between her shoulder blades tightened as she bent over and picked up her suitcase. She turned and walked away from the approaching guard. She was certain he was following her, after all, in the movies they could always tell when someone was nervous. She ducked into the ladies room.

"I should have stayed home," she mumbled, staring at herself in the mirror. "He'll be waiting. I wonder what they do with smugglers."

"Will Miss Am—please come to the concierge's station, your party is waiting." A female voice droned over the intercom.

"Did she say Miss America? Wouldn't it be exciting to meet her. Ah—what does it matter, I'm about to be arrested."

"Miss Amirault, Miss Sarah Amirault, please come to..."

"That's me! Oh my God, they know my name." Sarah's hands began to tremble. "What did Josh tell me?" _I'm on a book signing tour. I flew into Greenville because it was cheaper than flying to Atlanta. It's a Christmas decoration, a gift for my publisher. I'm a writer._ Sarah took a deep breath, but it didn't help quell the panic. She grabbed her suitcase, started for the door and ran headlong into someone. "Oh! I'm sorry, I—"

"Sarah?"

Sarah dropped the suitcase and stared at the floor. "I'm a writer. I'm on a signing tour and Greenville was cheaper. I'm a writer."

"I know, I'm Caitlin."

"Josh's Caitlin?" Sarah looked up with relief. "Hi, I thought—you're so young."

"I could say the same. Sorry I'm late, hope you didn't have to wait long."

"No, I just picked up my bag."

"Well, welcome to South Carolina. Come on, we better hurry, it looks like the sky's going to open up." Caitlin zipped up her coat as they approached the front door.

Sarah was surprised how green everything was and how much taller the trees were, but most of all, as they stepped outside, how warm it was. She unzipped her coat.

"Come on!" Caitlin yelled and took off across the parking lot. They tossed Sarah's suitcase in the trunk and hopped in the car just as the storm hit. "Ah! I like totally hate driving in the rain."

"I'm sorry, I—"

"It's not your fault. Ever have one of those days? Hey, I know, like why don't we grab something to eat until the storm blows over? Do you do Taco Bell? Do you even know what a Taco Bell is?"

"I live in Nova Scotia, not the North Pole."

Both girls flinched at a sudden clap of thunder.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply—it's just like this whole situation—know what I mean?"

"I do," Sarah said, "we're all under a lot of pressure. Your father's been very tense lately."

"How is he? Is he okay? I miss him."

"I do what I can to take his mind off things, but I know he misses you all. Sometimes I see him in the morning sitting on the edge of the bed just staring out the window."

Caitlin turned away and started the car. "Looks like now's our chance." She eased forward through a deep puddle toward the exit. It wasn't long before they turned into a Taco Bell parking lot. They jumped out and dashed inside.

"Let me buy," Sarah offered. "Your father gave me money this morning, said I should pay for everything."

"Really."

They ordered, then sat near the window, unwrapping their burrito's and eating in silence. Caitlin seemed bubbly initially, but it was obvious Sarah had either said or done something to upset her. Sarah was halfway through her burrito before anything was said.

"So, do you like have Dr. Pepper in Canada?"

"I'm not really sure, I'm not much of a soda drinker. As a matter of fact, your father just got me to try—"

"Root beer, like that's a surprise. Down here, we drink Dr. Pepper like it's water. It's like the studying drink—the caffeine and all."

Sarah covered her mouth to hide a smile.

"What?"

"I'm sorry, it's just Josh uses your speech pattern with some of his characters."

"Augh! I'm doing it again aren't I? Like, like, like. Aughhhhhhh! I do that all the time when I'm nervous, it's like such a habit."

"You're nervous? What on earth for?" Sarah took a sip of her sweet tea and puckered.

"You've never had sweet tea? Dugh!" Caitlin slapped herself on the forehead. "It's like totally a southern thing. Of course you haven't."

"I'm sorry if I did something wrong. I know you must think I'm some kind of witch, but I—"

"Don't."

"Don't?"

"Don't apologize. I just wasn't ready for your openness. I know Dad needs to move on and I like totally think it's cool that it's with you, it's just you're so young and to hear you talk about waking up together and him giving you money it's just—"

"I'm afraid you have it wrong."

"Wrong? I don't think so. For like the last two years, I came to realize my parents just more or less coexisted, mom with her soaps and Dad with his writing and tinkering in the garage. Dad and I talked and every conversation wound up being about you. I hated you at first, blamed you, but I never told Dad, how could I?"

"I never meant to come between—"

"You didn't, he wouldn't have let you. Family means everything to him. He'd sacrifice anything for family, even you. But I realize things are different now. Don't worry, I'll get used to it."

"Your father's a dear, sweet man, but I'm afraid you misunderstood. We're not—how should I say, intimate."

"Why not?"

Even in her reflection, Sarah could see she was blushing. "What do you know about me?"

"I don't know, I guess like you live alone, you're single, have a sister, write, stuff like that."

"Okay, but as far as living alone, I—"

"Someone else?" Caitlin's question was almost a gasp.

"Nothing like that. I'm a hermit, have been for years. Until today, I'd never even been out of the country."

"How awful, but I don't see what that has to do with Dad."

Sarah stuffed the last bite of burrito in her mouth to keep from having to answer.

"Can I tell you something?" Caitlin said. "Dad's a perfectionist."

"Don't I know, he never misses a thing with his edits."

"That's a positive, but it can be debilitating. I think he had this like vision of a perfect relationship and when it wasn't what he pictured, it ate at him. I think he lived in the past, when the idea of what might be thrilled him. When you came along, I think he started thinking about new possibilities. You know what I mean?"

"We're friends, I don't think—"

"It's just like Dad was destined to live with past what ifs."

"I'm trying not to."

* * *

"You got it?" Eddie yelled up to Matt through the frame rails.

"Got it."

"One more bolt—there, that should do it. Take 'er up."

Eddie slid out from under the car as Matt pulled down on the handle of the hydraulic hoist. A few pumps and the grill cleared the drive train. They stacked cinderblocks on either side, under the frame rails, then Matt lowered the car. Eddie pulled the chain loose and Matt pushed the hoist to the side. Exhausted, they both slumped back against the car.

"Easy big fella," Eddie cautioned as the car wobbled, "don't want the damn thing crashing down on us."

Matt wiped a greasy rag across his face. "Dude, we're like totally out of beer."

Eddie chuckled, everything was so simple to Matt, beer, food, more beer, an occasional girl, and, of course, more beer. Matt was a constant reminder of your first time out on your own, determined to screw up freshman year. "Tell you what, you help me drag this over with the others and I'll come up with some more beer."

"Dude, can't it wait? This is like the sixth one."

"Just like football practice," Eddie said, getting up and attaching the block and tackle to the drive train.

"Yeah, yeah." Matt wrapped the end of the rope around his waist. Eddie grabbed hold, and they drug the heavy drive train out from under the front of the car. "Now?"

Eddie nodded toward the row of five others. They unhooked the block and tackle, then used the hoist to lift the drive train and push it over to it's place in line. Eddie placed a few cinderblocks under the corners and Matt let it down with a thump. "You think we can get anything for the engines?" Eddie said, sitting down on the transfer-case.

"Fours and sixes? Not much."

"Yeah, guess we'd do better if we had a couple of V-8's, still every little bit helps."

"So, about that beer?"

"There should be a six pack in the crisper."

"Sweeeeet." Matt headed for the shop.

"On the left." Eddie noticed the car was still up on blocks. "And we need to put the car down."

Matt gave the old Chevy a shove as he passed, and it came crashing down off the cinderblocks landing squarely on the jack stands under the frame. The car teetered like a seesaw.

"Not exactly what I had in mind," Eddie said as he pulled up his toolbox next to the drive train. The thirteen millimeter socket was too large.

"Dude!"

Eddie looked up just in time to catch a beer can headed straight for his head. He set it on the ground next to him and tried the eleven millimeter socket.

"Come on," Matt whined, plopping down next to him. "Even Noah took a break. Pizza?"

Eddie tore off a slice, then popped his beer. It was true what they said about cold pizza being a college staple, of course, after a few days, it didn't always sit so well. A few bites stirred his hunger and he quickly devoured the rest. They'd stopped once or twice, but he didn't realize they'd been at it for nearly thirty hours. They both finished another slice, then split the last. As Eddie finished his last bite, Matt rolled up on one cheek and let out a loud fart.

"Aw, dude, that's righteous."

Eddie waved his hand in front of his face. "Jesus Matt."

They were tired, and although polishing off the six pack wasn't intoxicating, they were both slap happy. Matt ripped another one and pushed Eddie over. Eddie turned tail up and farted.

"Oh, dude," Matt wrapped his hands around his throat like he was gagging. "It's pizza, not eggs!"

"Oh no you don't." Eddie said as Matt got that look on his face. He rolled away as Matt lunged for him. Matt got a hold of his foot, but Eddie still has his karate reflexes and before Matt knew what happened, Eddie was sitting on top of him. Eddie farted on his chest and the match was on. Neither noticed the door open on the far side of the room.

Their wrestling kicked up quite a cloud of dust. At one point, Matt managed to fart on Eddie's back, one of those raunchy, hot ones that almost felt wet. Eddie spun out from under him, but in doing so, knocked Matt's beer out of his hand. "No!" Matt wailed as it hit the ground in a fountain of foam. They rolled around in the beer soaked dirt until Eddie got Matt in a head lock.

"Yield."

"Dude, I'm like stupid drunk."

"Not on four beers, we're stupid tired." Eddie let go and slid off next to Matt.

Matt rolled over on his back. "Like finals."

"Yeah, like after finals. Say ahhh." Eddie poured the rest of his beer in Matt's mouth, well, most of it. Laughing hysterically, they both pushed up until they were leaning against the drive train.

As their laughing subsided, Matt looked to his left. "Dude, we've got company. Ten o'clock, I think your sister's trying to set you up again."

"Maybe it's you this time," Eddie grumbled. And sure enough, two pair of jean clad legs appeared in front of them. Eddie was bleary eyed, but Matt glanced up.

"Dude," Matt whispered, "she's a freakin' Seminole."

Eddie looked over at Matt who was starting the tomahawk chop. Eddie joined in.

"Don't you dare," Caitlin said, "this is—"

Matt began the chant. "Fuck the Seminoles..."

Eddie joined in. "They suck genitals." They continued, getting louder each time, their chopping motion becoming more exaggerated. Finally, they rolled off the drive train in hysterics.

"Dude," Matt laughed, "That'll teach her to bring a Florida State fan around. What was she thinking?"

Eddie punched Matt in the arm. "Stupid freshman."

* * *

Derrick Corp put the last picture off his desk in a box as a stack of boxes floated past his door. "Marty, that you?" The boxes diverted into Corp's office and parked on the chair next to the door.

"You packing up too?" Marty said, stepping out from behind the boxes.

"An assignment over in the private sector."

"I see. Missed you at Steve's funeral."

Corp pulled a strip of cellophane tape across the top of the box on his desk. "They had me working."

"It'd been nice if you could have said something to Steve's wife, she was pretty torn up."

"I didn't know he was married."

"He didn't talk about Cindy much, guess he liked to keep the department and his personal life separate." Marty punched a fist into his open hand. "If I get that guy, they won't have to worry about a trial."

"So, a promotion," Corp said to change the subject.

"If you can call the field a promotion."

"Could be worse." _You could be dead like Steve,_ Corp thought. The phone rang. "I better get that. Good luck with the new position."

"You too." Marty pulled back on the hand-truck and headed through the doorway.

Corp grabbed the phone on the third ring. "...Yes sir, I'll be right there."

A few minutes later, a secretary waved Corp through to Mr. Wallis's office and closed the door behind him.

Wallis pulled a piece of paper out of his printer, marked a line with a yellow highlighter, then sat down at his desk and slid the sheet toward Corp. "That name look familiar?"

"Amirault doesn't mean anything, but Sarah's the name of the woman Josh corresponded with. From somewhere in Canada if I recall." He glanced down at the point of departure. "Nova Scotia to be exact."

"Isn't Greenville close to Clemson, where his children attend college?"

"A little over an hour away, but no way he would run to his children, not with all the publicity."

"So you don't think his children are involved?"

"No, especially after my warning."

"But you still think he's in the states."

"I do, for the same reason. I don't see him running to his mistress any more than he would his children."

"Mistress?"

"Yes sir, looks like they've been involved for the better part of two years."

"Before his wife died. Well, well, that surprises me. Still, odd his mistress, as you say, would visit so close to his children"

Corp glanced down at the flight schedule. "Looks like Miss Amirault is returning home tomorrow. I'll fly up to Boston and snag her during the layover. A little one-on-one might be enlightening."

* * *

"Oh my God," Catlin said as she and Sarah climbed back in her car, "I'm like so sorry about that."

"That was—"

"Eddie and Matt, I'm sorry to say. Matt's like totally into football, but—so like it's still no excuse for the way they acted. Did you smell the beer?" Caitlin leaned forward and started the car. "Like I sooo can't believe they did that—they're not like that, honest."

Sarah hadn't said much, still struggling to hold back the tears. Caitlin's apologies, while obviously well intended, only edged Sarah closer to breaking down. "Your father said they'd been working really hard."

"Still, they like so didn't have to act like animals." Caitlin pulled out on the main road and headed for Clemson. "You're still staying with me, right?"

"Sure, if you have room."

"Like totally, my roommate bailed this semester. Well, not exactly."

"Grades?"

"No, Lucy wasn't here for an education, but, so like I think she gave a few boys one. I like had to totally knock before I went in the room or God knows what I might see. No, Lucy was here to score a husband. So like you're probably thinking okay—meow, but it's true. I remember this one guy..."

Caitlin's rambling had quelled Sarah's torrent of building tears. As she watched the landscape pass by, she began wondering which one of the boys was Eddie. From what she'd seen, neither resembled the picture Josh had shown her. They were both crude, arrogant and just plain dirty. Caitlin, on the other hand, was exactly like Josh had described her. Well, except for looking so young.

"Well, here we are. We'll have to walk a ways, but at least your suitcase isn't so heavy without the part and all." They got out of the car and Caitlin led the way. "My dorm's just up the hill. We can dump your stuff, then I thought we'd like go down to main street and you can sample some good ol' southern cookin'." As they approached Caitlin's dorm, she stopped and turned toward Sarah. "I bet we can sneak you past Martha."

"Martha?"

"The RA. I bet she so thinks you're a student. Keep your suitcase down and let's see if we can walk right by her." Caitlin opened the door and they walked in. "Hey Martha."

"Hey girls." Martha's glance was quick before returning to her textbook.

Caitlin leaned over and whispered, "Told you, she thinks you're a college student." They went into the stairwell and up to the third floor. Caitlin unlocked the door and swung it open. "Well, here we are."

Sarah followed Caitlin into the small room. At the head of the room, on either side of the window, stood two dresser desk combinations. Between them, a small microwave sat on top of a half-size refrigerator. There were clothes strewn across both beds. On the wall over one of the beds, hung a collage of partially completed drawings in various sizes. Sarah stared up at the ceiling that had to be at least twelve feet high.

Caitlin followed her gaze. "Some of the kids loft their beds so they have more room, but I'm afraid of heights and Lucy with all the boys well, like you get the idea."

"Are those yours?" Sarah asked, pointing toward the artwork.

"Yeah, just studies, nothing finished. I put them up hoping one would—"

"Speak to you."

"Yeah, like how'd you know that?"

"Your father said he does the same thing with cover art."

"That's how I learned. My teachers think I'm crazy, but they like the results. I have a few finished pieces on display over at the library. If you want, we can stop by after supper."

"That'd be nice." Sarah looked back at the wall. "Is that—"

"Dad, yeah." Caitlin was beaming. "It's on the abstract side." Caitlin tilted her head to the side. "Still not sure it really captures him, but a reasonable likeness I guess."

"Has he seen it?"

"No."

"Would you mind if I took it back with me? I know he'd love to see it."

"You think?"

"Sure, he brags about your work all the time."

"I didn't know that. He's always been real supportive, but I didn't know he actually liked my stuff."

"He's real proud of all you guys."

"So," Caitlin said, turning toward the door, "what do you think about meatloaf?"

They had a wonderful evening, the food was delicious, the exhibit inspiring, the weather perfect, but as they walked back toward Caitlin's car, Sarah got quiet. She'd said, 'oh yeah,' like it was no big deal to Caitlin's suggestion they catch up with the boys, but after their earlier encounter, she was terrified. Josh had always spoken with such high regard for Eddie, and certainly his graduation picture was gorgeous. She recalled an email exchange after Josh had sent her the family portrait and how when she commented how handsome Eddie was, he teased her about hooking them up one day. But who was that smelly, drunken foul-mouthed brute she met earlier? Her pace unintentionally slowed as they approached the car.

"It'll be fine. We just caught him during one of his moments."

"Him?"

Caitlin winked. "Trust me, he's really a lot of fun when you get to know him."

"I'm not sure I want to."

### Chapter 14

Sarah braced herself as she followed Caitlin around the corner to Eddie's apartment. Caitlin was bundled up, but to Sarah, the air felt spring like. Caitlin spent the whole drive apologizing, trying to build Eddie up and by the time they arrived, Sarah was almost ready to forgive him.  
"Great," Caitlin said, yanking an orange Post-It off the apartment door. "I thought it was awfully quiet around here." She glanced down at the note. "Feel like a little dancing?"

The word dancing hit Sarah like a hammer, knocking her back momentarily to her prom. "Oh no—I couldn't possibly."

"It's just an expression, you don't actually have to dance," Caitlin said obviously noticing the apprehension in Sarah's voice. "They're at a local club."

"I don't know."

"It's a quaint little place in Easley, besides, there's a basketball game tonight. It'll be deserted."

"I'm not really—"

"Don't be silly, if anything, we're like over dressed. I won't take no for an answer. You've come all this way, you have to meet the boys. What would Dad think?"

"Alright, but—"

"If you're not having fun, we can go." Caitlin crossed her heart, then led Sarah back to her car and they headed east on Route 123. A Kenny Chesney song came on the radio. "Oh my God, I like totally love this song. Do you like country?"

"Sure."

Caitlin's bubbly excitement was contagious and by the time they pulled onto the gravel parking lot, Sarah's case of nerves had diminished. The club was a small cinderblock building, no windows, with a single orange, neon sign out front. When Sarah got out of the car, she was immediately struck by the heavy odor of fried food.

"They make the best fries here, better than Boardwalk. I swear, you have to try them." Caitlin closed her door. "Ready?"

"Sure." Sarah had done it again, said sure when she was anything but. She glanced back as they walked away from the car.

"There's really no need to lock it."

"How do you do that?"

"I'm a visual artist, I notice stuff. Sorry if it creeps you out. Peter!" Caitlin waived at a boy who appeared from between two pickup trucks.

"Hey." Peter glanced at Sarah and seemed to cringe.

"This is Sarah," Caitlin said.

"Okay."

"Dad's Sarah."

"Oh." Peter's voice resounded with apparent relief. "I'm Pete. I don't know what Dad—"

"The mathematician," Sarah interrupted.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that. You're, um well, you're—"

"Younger than you expected?"

"Uh yeah."

"I get that a lot." Sarah winked at Caitlin.

"Come on," Caitlin said, opening the front door. "I'm dying to get on the dance floor." Peter held the door and Sarah followed Caitlin inside. "You are so not going to believe what Eddie and Matt did." Caitlin said to Peter.

"Let me guess—"

"Oh my God," Caitlin cut him off, looking back at Sarah, "it's the Kenny song we were listening too." She turned back toward the dance floor and hopped up and down a few times shouting, "Ted! Ted!" She waved, then said to Peter. "Take Sarah and grab our table. I'll be right back." Caitlin raced off onto the dance floor.

Peter might have said something, but Sarah couldn't hear him over the music. Nevertheless, she got the idea and followed him to a table between the bar and dance floor. They sat silently and watched. Sarah was afraid Peter might ask her to dance, but it seemed by his demeanor that maybe he was afraid she expected him to.

"What can I get you two?" A waitress said, tossing two coasters on the table.

Caitlin spun out of Ted's arms and caught herself on the edge of the table. "Dr. Pepper, a pitcher and three glasses." She winked at Sarah before turning back to Ted. "Bout time you take the plunge—God, don't you love this song?"

"The plunge?"

Caitlin laughed. "Dr. Pepper." Ted yanked her arm and she spun back onto the dance floor.

Peter started a tab when the waitress brought their drinks. The room was hot and Sarah's throat parched, but as she reached for the drink, Caitlin shouted from the dance floor.

"Wait for me, I like have got to see your face when you try it."

Sarah caught Peter's quick grin before she turned to watch Caitlin and her partner. Ted seemed much older than Caitlin and Sarah considered that perhaps that was why Caitlin seemed okay with Sarah's age.

Peter leaned forward. "Ted's her dance instructor, queer as they come."

"Really."

"Ted, not Caitlin."

Sarah blushed. Peter and Caitlin were exactly what she expected, with parts of Josh that echoed though their personalities, but then there was Eddie.

"Pete!" A loud voice boomed from the doorway. "My man!"

"Oh boy," Peter groaned, "here we go."

Even in the dance floor's faint glow, Sarah thought she detected a grimace on Peter's face. Her gaze sank to her lap as a shadow engulfed the table. The chair seemed to tremble as someone gripped the back posts. She kept her face down as whoever it was leaned forward to look at her.

"Dude, you've got a date. Caitlin set you up?"

"Matt," Peter said, "this is Sarah."

Sarah glanced up.

"Damn girl, you're knock dead gorgeous."

"You didn't think so before."

"Before what?"

Peter leaned toward Matt and whispered, "She was with Caitlin at the barn earlier."

"Dude, she's suppose to be Eddie's date." Matt said, sliding onto the chair next to Sarah.

"No you dumb lummox, she's Dad's friend."

"Dude, you're dating your Dad's girlfriend?"

"Why not," a man said, sitting down on the other side of Sarah. "Eddie just stole his sister from me."

"Theodore, my man, we've been cramming for like two days. He's probably got no idea who he's dancing with."

Peter clasped his hands over his head and drug them down either side of his face in apparent frustration. "Sarah, this is Mr. Dansler."

"How do you do miss, everyone calls me Ted."

"You were Caitlin's partner."

"Technically, I'm her dance teacher."

"Yeah, right." Matt tilted his chair back on two legs and nodded toward the dance floor. "I don't think so."

Sarah turned around ready for a good laugh. Not even Caitlin could make that brute of a brother look like a dancer. To Sarah's surprise, Caitlin and Eddie were gliding across the dance floor. The other patrons seated around the fringes were watching and the dancers on the floor seemed to make room for them. There was power in Eddie's movement, yet there was a gentleness in the way he supported Caitlin. _She's doing it,_ Sarah thought, _she's making him look good._ Suddenly Eddie spun Caitlin and Sarah felt her muscles tighten as he effortlessly lifted her. He turned, seemed to melt and Caitlin rolled down his arm and spun across the floor.

"It's not right you know," Ted said, "a man should have to be gay to move like that."

Sarah tried to hold back a smile, but he was right. Apparently Eddie was a man of many talents, just like his father.

"You still mad?" Matt asked. "We thought you were a Florida State fan?"

Sarah glanced at him somewhat surprised he was talking to her.

"The whole fuck the Seminoles thing was just because we were tired. Do you—"

"Apology accepted, but—" Before Sarah could finish, Matt grabbed her hand and yanked her up from the table.

"We'll show 'em."

"We? Show 'em?" Sarah gasped as she realized Matt expected her to dance. Matt's grip was firm, there was no escape, and he drug her out on the floor. It began easy enough, holding hands a safe distance apart, but when the tempo changed, Matt let out a holler and yanked Sarah against him. It sounded like a couple of good ol' boys from the bar hollered back.

"Just follow my lead." Matt said and spreading his arms while holding her hands, bounced her off his belly.

Sarah was mortified, but unable to free herself from his grip. She glanced at the people around her hoping to see Caitlin, but no such luck.

"You ready?" Matt asked.

"Ready?"

He let out another yell, pushed her back and tried to slide her between his legs. He lost his balance, and trying not to step on her, tumbled to the floor. In doing so, he drug Sarah up on top of him. The guys from the bar cheered and yelled, "Bull riding!"

Sarah burst into tears, pushed away and then ran toward the neon, restroom sign.

* * *

"Who the hell was that?" Eddie said as he turned Caitlin toward the girl racing past.

"Oh my God!"

"No way." Eddie said. "God's a man."

"Let me go you big oaf." Caitlin kicked Eddie in the shin and ran after Sarah.

Eddie joined Matt as he got up off the floor. "Who the hell was that?"

"Your dad's girlfriend, and she's on a date with Peter."

Eddie and Matt walked over and then plopped down at the table. "She's not the girl from the—"

"Yeah," Peter said, "apparently you made quite an impression."

"Jesus, I promised Dad we'd show her a good time."

"You're off to a great start," Peter said. "That's what, insulting her heritage, public humiliation, I can hardly wait to see what's next."

"Damn." Eddie picked up a glass of soda and drank it down.

"Nice move, that was hers."

"Crap." Eddie turned toward the bar and yelled. "Three more glasses and two more pitchers of Dr. Pepper."

"You going to apologize?" Peter asked.

"For what?" Eddie said, "I was dancing with Caitlin."

"Matt?"

"Awe dude, I was just tryin' to be friendly."

"This whole day has just gone down the shitter." Eddie groaned.

"There's more?" Peter said, sliding closer to the table.

"The engine didn't work. Matt and I tried everything, but no go. It just doesn't work."

"You're tired, you probably just over looked something."

"Don't even go there."

"You ever think maybe you're reverse engineering was off?"

"Yeah," Eddie shouted, jumping up from the table, "I pulled the whole thing out of my ass. The same place you got the fuckin' equation."

"Dudes," Matt said, nodding toward the DJ, "ten o'clock."

Eddie turned toward the dance floor. On the far side, Caitlin was coaxing a resistant Sarah around the floor toward their table. "You guys behave yourselves," Eddie said.

"Me?" Peter laughed.

Caitlin pulled Sarah up next to her. Sarah's face was hidden behind her hair, her gaze not straying from the floor. "Sarah, this is Eddie and I guess you've met Matt."

"Sorry about the dancin' thing, I didn't mean to make you cry."

Eddie made a slicing motion across his throat.

"What?" Matt said. "Guess it's a good thing you don't wear that goopy eye stuff or it'd be all smeared like—"

"War paint?" Sarah snapped, glaring at Matt.

"No, I didn't—I mean—I thought—" Matt stuttered.

_Whoa,_ Eddie said to himself, as he saw Sarah's face for the first time. Most of the girls he met had this pathetic, will you go out with me, look about them. It was refreshing to see defiance and it added intensity to her azure eyes. He soaked her in, in a way he knew wasn't exactly appropriate given she was his father's girlfriend.

"What?" Sarah said, glancing over at him.

Eddie held up his hands. "Hey, it's your battle." There was a moment of awkward silence.

"Well," Ted finally said, getting up from the table, "I'll leave you kids to get acquainted. Nice meeting you."

"Thanks," Caitlin called after him. "Save another one for me."

"No problem."

Eddie had never seen Matt so helpless. Oh sure, there were plenty of times he should have been, but he had that gentle farm boy innocence that made it just plain not necessary. Still, he looked like he needed rescuing. "So Matt, why don't you grab us a few beers?"

"Yeah—yeah sure—great." Matt retreated to the bar.

Eddie pulled another chair up as Sarah and Caitlin sat down, Sarah sliding to the side to put Caitlin between them. He stared at her over his glass of Dr. Pepper.

* * *

Sarah sat quietly, feeling Eddie's penetrating glare. For her first excursion, this trip had been a humiliating disaster. She felt very much alone. Eddie's stare was unnerving, and seemed to be some strange mixture of hostility and admiration. Josh was easy to read, one look at his face and you knew exactly what he was thinking. Shelly was the same way, but this, this was different.

"Folks around here usually try to be cordial, guess northern rudeness isn't limited to the states."

Sarah gulped, afraid his comment was directed toward her.

"Thought Dad had better taste."

"Eddie!" Caitlin slapped his arm.

Sarah fought to hold the tears back, her mouth filling with the slick taste of mucus. She glanced up at him, then toward the bathroom. His eyes followed hers. She wanted to run, but at the same time, didn't want to give him the satisfaction. There was no mistaking his victorious grin when she stood. He thought he'd won, but she'd show him.

"Matt," Sarah said, turning toward the bar, her voice slightly cracking. "I hope I didn't embarrass you out there. I'm afraid I'm not much of a dancer."

"Shucks, I'm not so good myself, but dancin's just supposed to be fun, you don't got to be some sort of Chris Brown or nothin'."

Sarah grinned as Eddie turned around. It was her turn to get one up. "Well, even though I'm from the north, I like to have fun just as much as the next gal."

Matt got up from his barstool, startling her. "Sweeeet, let's have another go."

Sarah's mouth fell open. Once again she'd started something without thinking it all the way through. Eddie's smug grin gave her little choice. "Sure, but this time you have to let me lead."

"Excellent."

Sarah forced a smile as Matt led her past Eddie and out onto the dance floor. It was a slow song, and as promised, Matt let her lead. As they turned, Sarah could see the guys at the bar laughing. Caitlin and Eddie seemed to be in a heated debate until he jumped up and then stomped down to the bar. Peter started shaking his head when Caitlin turned toward him. It looked like she was trying to convince him to rescue her from Matt. Sarah grimaced as Matt stepped on her foot.

"Sorry. I told you I wasn't so good at this."

When Sarah smiled, he pulled her closer and stepped on her foot again. It was obvious now that Caitlin was begging. _Please Peter,_ Sarah thought.

"You mind?" A deep, familiar voice said from behind Matt.

"Aw dude, we were just making out—up, making up." They stopped and Matt stepped aside. It was Eddie. Sarah's heart was pounding so that she was sure he could hear it over the music.

"Let's give her a shot at a little southern refinement."

"Dude, that's harsh, you're not even a real southerner." Matt wasn't letting Sarah go.

"Really, I bet—"

"Oh Mathew," Caitlin cooed, stepping out on the dance floor and motioning for him with her finger.

"We'll show you," Matt said, taking Caitlin's hand.

"Shall we?" Eddie said, extending his arm.

Sarah stumbled into his arms. His large hand cradled the small of her back, yet he kept enough distance between them for a linebacker. He oozed confidence, from his firm but gentle grip, to his precise footsteps. Sarah followed effortlessly. "Ah," she squeaked as he unexpectedly raised her hand, spun her once and pulled her against his chest. He stood a full head taller and she fit snuggly against his shoulder. His muscles were defined and seemed to pulse with the music. "I suppose I was tired from the flight." Sarah offered.

"We've come to expect that kind of behavior from Yankees." A wry smile crossed his lips.

Sarah tensed, she wasn't used to being called rude, or being in a man's arms for that matter. It became obvious as their movement grew in intensity, that he was testing her. She'd never been much of a dancer, she wasn't clumsy, in fact quite the opposite, she just didn't have much experience. Still, she was surprised at what she was doing.

"You game?" Eddie said to someone behind her.

"You've never danced with her have you?" Ted replied.

"It'll give you a chance."

"Not so fast you two," Caitlin intervened. "Maybe Sarah's not up to it."

"Up to what?"

"A dance off," Caitlin replied. "Nothing serious, just for fun. You don't have to if—"

"All you have to do is follow," Eddie broke in, "just like you're doing. Think you can handle it?"

It was obvious Eddie's challenge had nothing to do with Caitlin and Ted. Sarah was tongue tied. How could he be so condescending and at the same time dance with her? Was he just a control freak? The big question, however, was why couldn't she just say no?

Eddie turned her slowly then pulled her against his chest. "Well?"

It felt like everyone in the bar was staring at her, waiting for an answer. Eddie still held her hands, his arms snaked around her, each breath pressed his chest against her shoulder blades. "Sure," Sarah's voice quivered. She cleared her throat and pivoted out of his arms. "If you think you're up to it." Her smile was phony, she'd done it again.

"We'll go easy," Caitlin said before Ted led her across the floor. The DJ played a short fanfare and everyone cleared the dance floor, gathering around the edges to watch.

Sarah gulped. This looked like humiliation in the making.

"How about Kenny?" Caitlin called from the far corner.

"Oh no," Eddie said, "Tim."

"Keith?"

Eddie nodded approval to the DJ. He leaned over to Sarah as Caitlin and Ted sashayed out on the dance floor. "They do something, then we copy and add something at the end. They add to what we did and it goes back and forth like that. Got it?"

"Hey, all I have to do is follow your lead, right?"

"That's right." Again Eddie displayed a sarcastic sneer.

_Ah!_ Sarah fumed. _He is a control freak. I'll show him._

"Ready?"

Sarah looked up as Ted led Caitlin off the floor. _Oh my God, I missed it._

Eddie promenaded her out onto the floor and mouthed, "Just follow my lead."

"Right, follow."

Eddie led her through a rather simple routine that ended with some kind of rope turns that seemed like it should have entangled their arms. There was light applause as they yielded the floor to Ted and Caitlin. Sarah looked up at Eddie in amazement as Ted and Caitlin went through the rope turns.

"Piece of cake."

"As long as I follow your lead, right?"

Eddie winked.

The couples faced off like boxers, the difficulty slowly increasing with each round. It was obvious to Sarah that they were taking it easy, so when Eddie rolled her out to arms length, she pulled loose, spun twice, dipped and offered her hand. He reeled her back in. Despite his scowl, the twinkle in his eyes was unmistakable. They waited silently until Ted and Caitlin finished their turn.

"Let's see what else you've got."

Sarah hated how her face was a window to her emotions and Eddie hadn't missed her look of panic. Even so, she tried to act confident.

"Guess ol' Ted's afraid he's going to lose again." Eddie whispered as he waltzed Sarah out onto the floor. "Spinning Caitlin across the floor is really cheating, she's like a top. Up for a little freestyle?"

Sarah attempted a fleeting smile.  
"Remember Dirty Dancing? Just arch your back and trust yourself."

Sarah's gasp was lost in the opening spin.

Eddie talked her through each movement and they went flawlessly as one built on the next. As they paraded around the floor arm in arm, Eddie turned so he was walking backwards and said, "Ted's old, he can't do lifts anymore."

"Isn't that cheating?"

"Can you cheat if it's just for fun?"

Eddie rolled around until he was facing her, placed a hand at the small of her back and they did turns across the floor. "Arch your back," he whispered as his hands took hold of her hips. Then, in one powerful motion Sarah was airborne.

She held the lift for mere seconds, a gasp from the crowd announcing her failure as she folded at the waist. She braced for the impact, but found herself rolling down Eddie's arm like a rag doll. He stepped over her and lifted her back to her feet. "What just happened?" Sarah panted.

"Put your right foot against my instep," Eddie said as their foreheads touched.

Sarah glanced down and positioned her foot against his.

"Relax." Eddie pushed his head against her and tilted her back. He was unwavering, his stance like an oak, she had no sensation of his hand on her back until she was parallel to the floor. Further and further they went, his head sinking to her chest. Sarah lay her head back until her hair swept the floor then draped her arm above it. The crowd cheered, she lingered in his arms, then he pulled her to her feet. They bowed, then he lifted their hands in triumph. He released her hand, leaning forward. "You have a button undone."

Sarah's glance went immediately to her blouse. When she looked up, Eddie was walking away. Unconsciously, her hand drifted slowly across her chest, pausing where his hot breath had poured over her.

"Wow!" Caitlin said walking up next to her. "You'll have to teach me that sometime."

"I fell."

Caitlin winked. "I'd say so. How about that Dr. Pepper?"

Peter stood and applauded as Sarah and Caitlin approached the table, but as they passed the bar, Sarah overheard Eddie say, "the damn thing doesn't work." She stopped.

"Do you know what they're talking about?" Sarah asked.

"The motor thingy didn't work." Caitlin replied.

"Yep," Peter added, "it's a bust."

"He's wrong." Sarah turned toward the bar.

"I wouldn't." Caitlin warned.

"You'll be sorry." Peter added.

But Sarah didn't listen. She walked up behind Eddie and Matt. "Caitlin said you think it doesn't work."

Eddie and Matt spun around on their barstools. "That's right," Eddie said, "it doesn't work."

"You must have done something wrong. Josh said it worked."

"That your technical opinion?" Eddie mocked.

"All I know—"

"You learned how to dance tonight, it takes four years to become an engineer." With that, Eddie and Matt rotated back towards the bar leaving Sarah staring at their backs.

"Dude, that was harsh." Sarah heard Matt say as she walked away.

* * *

The next morning, Caitlin popped the trunk and as Sarah hoisted her suitcase into the back, Matt's pickup came around the corner. Loaded with three old greasy engines, the brakes groaned as it came to a stop. Eddie hopped out of the cab without shutting off the engine that struggled to stay running. Without so much as a good morning, he opened Sarah's suitcase, pushed her underwear aside and stuffed a box labeled Ice Cream Maker in on one side.

"Eddie!" Caitlin groaned. "That's rude. I don't care if—"

"I like the BVDs."

Sarah tried to fight it, but what could she do? She blushed.

"Dad's expecting this." Eddie said, zipping the suitcase closed.

"Did you get it to work?"

"Just see that he gets it." Eddie got back in the truck, ground it into first gear and drove off leaving a lingering cloud of blue smoke.

"Damn Yankee." Sarah mumbled.

Caitlin burst out laughing. "Welcome to the family."

### Chapter 15

Shelly slammed her magazine on the table startling a baby to tears. "Sorry," she apologized to the annoyed mother. It was obvious from the time that Sarah had missed her connection, but why no word? _Maybe she called the house after we left,_ Shelly thought, but deep down she was afraid something had gone wrong. The crying baby grated her already frazzled nerves so she got up and began to pace back and forth in front of the window. _I should have never let her go. Oh, sure, she sounded convincing, but I knew it was just an act. If anything has happened to her, I'll—I'll just—_ Shelly looked up as a throng of people started streaming through the gate. _Maybe this flight._

Several groups emerged to the greetings of friends and family, but no Sarah. Finally Shelly spotted Sarah making her way down the corridor. She was alone, walking close to the wall, almost using it for support, and it was apparent from her slow pace and sheepish, demeanor that something was very much amiss.

"Sarah! Over here." Shelly yelled. Sarah's pace quickened until she was in Shelly's arms. There was no mistaking her salty aroma. She'd been crying. Shelly was dying to know what was wrong, but knew she needed to give her time. "So let's have a look." Shelly said, but when she tried to push her back, Sarah latched on like a child would to their mother. "So how was the weather?"

"Like summer."

"Well I guess it's a good thing you didn't pack your mukluks."

Sarah let go and stepped back, but when she looked up, her eyes were suddenly filled with fear.

"What?" Shelly said.

Shelly followed, slowly rotating as Sarah inched her way around her until they had turned one hundred eighty degrees. "Don't be obvious," Sarah whispered, "but see that guy leaning up against the news stand?"

Shelly glanced past her. "The stuffed shirt?"

Sarah nodded. "He's following me."

"Really. Don't you think you're letting that creative imagination of yours—" Shelly stopped when she saw the tears welling up in Sarah's eyes. "Let's get out of here. I have a surprise out in the van. He—"

"No!" Sarah pushed back and then shook Shelly's hand as if they were merely acquaintances. "Such a surprise running into you." She said in a louder voice.

"Don't you think you're over doing this a bit?" Shelly whispered glancing at the man again. He was walking toward them now.

"Not after what happened in Boston."

"What happened in Boston? Is that why you're late?"

"So how are the kids?" Sarah said as the man passed. Neither spoke until he was further away. "Josh is in the van?"

"It was supposed to be a surprise." Shelly whispered.

"You have to get him away from here, out of my house. Hide him somewhere so they won't find him." The panic in Sarah's face slowly subsided, replaced with determination. "They missed my luggage in Boston, so they don't know."

"Know what?"

"The part, we can't let them find the part."

"But—"

"There." Sarah cut her off. "See that suitcase in the window?"

Shelly turned toward the little shop Sarah gestured toward. "It looks like yours, doesn't it?"

"Exactly. You have to buy it."

"What?"

"Just listen. I'll lead this guy away, then you go and buy the suitcase. Isn't there a lady's room right outside of baggage claim?"

"I think so."

"Go there. Once I see you go in, then I'll pickup my suitcase and duck in the lady's room. We can put the part in yours. You'll wait until they take me then get—"

"Take you?"

"To inspect the suitcase."

"No. What if they stop you before you get to the lady's room?"

"You have a better idea?"

"I don't know, maybe we should just leave it."

"Oh perfect, then they'll be sure to find it." Sarah glanced toward the man that was watching them. "Tell you what, buy the suitcase, put it next to mine on the turnstile and switch the tag. Can you do that?"

"I guess. What about—"

"I'll keep him busy while you make the switch. Once you're done, lose yourself in a crowd and wait until I pickup the suitcase. Once I'm clear of baggage, grab the suitcase and get out of here." Sarah glanced over Shelly's shoulder again. "Get back to Weymouth as fast as you can and hide everything that has to do with Josh."

"You sure about this?"

"Yeah, and Shell, no matter what happens, get the part out of here. I'll be fine as long as they don't find it."

It was Shelly's turn to force a smile. "Okay. See you at my place later?"

"Well," Sarah said in a much louder voice, "it's been great running into you. We'll have to do lunch sometime."

"Maybe next week."

"That'd be great. Toodles." Sarah waved and walked away.

Shelly sat back down next to the mother who was now nursing her baby. Just as Sarah had predicted, the man followed her. Shelly waited five minutes, purchased the suitcase at an ungodly price, then headed for baggage claim. As she approached, she noticed the dark sphere on the ceiling and imagined the hidden camera watching her. She mingled with a tour group and slid the suitcase up next to the railing, behind a baggage cart, then walked through the turnstile empty handed. Once inside, she made her way over to the suitcase and slid it under the railing. After working her way through the crowd, she waited near the baggage claim belt for Sarah's suitcase. The area soon became a sea of travelers as another flight's baggage arrived. The congestion eased Shelly's nerves. Finally she spotted Sarah's bag and when it got to her, she yanked it off the belt, sitting it in front of her next to the new one. Pretending to check the tag, she switched them, then hoisted them both back on the belt. "Looked like mine," she said to an elderly man standing next to her. She shrugged and eased back into the crowd, away from the belt. Once out of the claim area, she bought a coffee at the little stand across the concourse and waited.

It wasn't long before Sarah pushed through the turnstile into the claim area. A few minutes later, as she approached the exit, two security police appeared. One grabbed the suitcase from her, the other her arm. There was a short conversation, then Sarah glanced her way. Shelly's heart leapt, even in that brief moment, there was no mistaking the utter fear in Sarah's eyes. The police escorted Sarah into a nearby office area. Shelly's legs wouldn't move. _Come on, that was the cue,_ but they still wouldn't budge. Finally she mustered all her courage and started toward the claim area. As she passed through the turnstile, another security officer pushed past her on his way toward the back offices. Shelly grabbed the remaining suitcase and headed for the exit. Despite her trembling hands, she managed a smile as she past yet another security guard. Guilt slowed her progress toward the exit, but Sarah had been firm, she must get Josh and the part to a safe place. Still, Shelly was terrified for her.

Shelly crossed the parking lot in a dead run finally collapsing against the side of her minivan. Panting, she fumbled with her keys, then yanked open the sliding door and tossed Sarah's suitcase in the back seat.

Josh popped up from behind the back seat. "What's wrong?"

"Get down." Shelly huffed still trying to catch her breath.

"Where's Sarah?"

Shelly shook her head.

"Tell me where she is or I'll go find her myself."

"Okay," Shelly said, "there's a problem. Sarah was followed. They've got her right now."

"Who's got her?"

"Airport security. They're checking her suitcase as we speak."

Josh climbed over the back seat. "Guess it's time I turn myself in."

"Oh no you don't mister." Shelly put her hand on his chest to block him from getting out. "That would implicate her."

Josh sunk back onto the seat. "I can't let her—"

"She's okay. We switched suitcases, they won't find anything. Sarah doesn't think they know anything, just following her, but said we have to get you out of her house just in case." Shelly pulled a key out of her purse and handed it to Josh. "This is to Sarah's. Think you can find your way back?"

"It's Highway 101 south, right?"

"Yeah, just follow the signs to 101, head south until you come to Weymouth. Just look for the, 'Don't blink or you'll miss it,' sign." Shelly pulled out her cell phone and made a call. "Hey Clifford. Can you meet our friend at my place? Say in about two hours?... Great. Why don't you pack up all that stuff you've been working on and take it with you? The garage seems as good as any other.... Me too. Bye." Shelly closed the phone. "Clifford will meet you at my place. Put your stuff in the spare room upstairs, then you and Clifford can put your little project from his shop in the garage. That'll have to do for now."

"What about you?"

"I can't leave her even if she told me to. You better get going."

Josh climbed over onto the driver's seat and started the engine. "Tell her I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

"She knows. I better go. Drive careful, you don't want to attract any attention." Shelly stepped back and closed the door. She waited until Josh cleared the parking gate before returning to the terminal.

* * *

Josh's inability to reverse directions was a life-long curse and over the years, he'd come to rely on Betty's navigation. Fortunately, the roads leaving the Halifax airport were well marked and he miraculously wound-up on southbound 101. As the fear of getting lost ebbed, his thoughts returned to Sarah. What happened? Why was she so late, and how long had they been following her? Maybe Eddie could shed some light. Just then his cell phone rang.

"Hey Eddie, how's it going?"

"Fine. Sarah back okay?"

"Interesting."

"Interesting?"

"Interesting you'd ask about Sarah."

"Just wanted to make sure you got the part back, that's all."

"It's in the backseat."

"Backseat, where are you?"

"Headed back to Weymouth from the airport."

"Jesus Dad, you're supposed to be laying low. How am I supposed to pull this off if you—"

"Sarah was followed." Josh interrupted.

"Corp."

"How do you know that name? I never told you his name. What are you keeping from me?"

"Dad, Dad, take a breath, I'm not keeping anything from you, but if they find that part, Sarah could be—"

"Like I said, it's in the backseat. Listen, there could be a delay. I have to shutdown and move everything over to Sarah's sister's house."

"Sounds like a reasonable precaution, but you can't be offline for too long."

"I know. We'll do our best to get things back up and running as soon as possible."

"We don't have a lot of time if this is going to happen. Listen Dad, about Sarah, we kind of got off on the wrong foot."

"Interesting."

"What's with all the interestings? Listen Dad, I gotta go, Matt and Pete are here. Let me know if you come up with anything. See ya."

Josh closed the phone as he passed the sign outside of Weymouth. He made quick work of gathering his belongings and as arranged, Clifford met him at Shelly's. Despite the cold, they got everything into the garage before Clifford had to head back to work. A mirror image of Sarah's house, Josh had no problem finding the upstairs, spare bedroom, and like Shelly said, it had a nice view. Josh put his suitcase on the foot of the bed, then sat down to wait for their return. He must have dozed off, because the next thing he knew there were voices in the foyer. His decent down the stairs was halted by Shelly's frantic hand motion. Sarah was in her arms and appeared to be crying. Josh sank down on one of the steps.

"We're home now," Shelly said, "it's all behind us."

"I swear, I'm never leaving Weymouth again."

"Where'd all this come from, you were fine in the car."

"Fine! How can I be fine after what happened in Boston?" Sarah began to tremble.

Josh eased his way to the base of the stairs as Shelly guided Sarah into the living room and they sat down. Shelly brushed Sarah's hair back and looked past her to Josh. It wasn't until Sarah's weeping subsided that she spoke. "I bet they were surprised when they opened your suitcase."

Sarah sniffled. "I told them I was going to sue the airline for losing all my stuff."

"Thata girl." Shelly glanced up and Josh mouthed the word Boston. "Can you tell me about Boston?"

Sarah cringed.

"Come on, you can talk to your big sister." Shelly handed her a box of tissue.

Sarah pulled out a wad and blew her nose, but remained silent.

When Josh stood, Shelly shook her head. "Let me help."

"You can't." Sarah sat up, wiped her eyes, then turned toward the window. "We had a short layover in Boston, but I stayed on the plane. Most everyone else got off. Anyway, I was reading a magazine article when I noticed two men coming down the aisle. I didn't think anything of it, but when I looked back down at my magazine I realized one was wearing an Air Marshall jacket. When I looked up again, we made eye contact and they quickened their pace. I looked back down, hoping they'd pass, but then one of them said, 'Miss Amirault? Miss Sarah Amirault?' I'd hardly replied when one of them grabbed me under the arm and lifted me out of my seat. 'Don't make a scene,' he said, or something like that, and they led me off the plane.

"To where? What did they want?"

"They led me through a maze of corridors, then locked me in a room. I was scared to death. I was afraid they'd found the part or something. I'm not sure exactly how long I was alone, but I remember looking up at the clock and realizing the plane had already taken off. Then I heard a key in the lock. A man, dressed like the guy you saw at the airport, came in and sat down across the table from me. He flashed DHS credentials. His name was something Corp."

"What's DHS?"

"America's Department of Homeland Security."

"Then it was about Josh," Shelly whispered, but Josh still heard her.

Sarah shook her head.

"Then what?"

Josh noticed the gloss on Sarah's cheek and knew she was crying.

"I don't know. He sat there, silently staring, no, leering at me. It was unnerving. I asked what he wanted, told him who I was, but he said nothing. There was a large mirror on the wall to my right and I was starting to feel like I was being watched, you know, like the cop shows on television. The room was cold, and I started to shiver partly from nerves, I suppose. I could tell the way he looked at me, he knew I was nervous. Finally he ordered me to stand, then turn around. I told him I'd been through security in Greenville. He only smiled. Then—then he—he—" Sarah's gaze fell to the floor and she gripped the sofa as if to keep from collapsing. Her voice continued in a whisper, barely audible. "He told me to take off my clothes and stack them on the table."

"Oh my God," Shelly gasped, sliding toward her, but Sarah moved away.

"He took my clothes and left me there, naked. The mirror—remember the mirror—I felt like hundreds of eyes were looking at me. I imagined men laughing, pointing, leering, jerking off. Why Shell? He never asked anything, just humiliated me. Why?" Sarah collapsed on the arm of the sofa in tears.

Shelly leaned forward and wrapped her arm around her.

Josh silently walked across the foyer and knelt down in front of them. "Because of me." Josh said, wiping away his own tears.

Sarah glanced up at the sound of his voice, but returned to crying into her folded arms.

"I shouldn't have let you go."

"You're damn right mister," Shelly said. "Especially if you knew—"

"I knew the risks Shell, it was my choice."

"No it wasn't you were just trying to—"

"No," Sarah said, sitting up, "it was my choice."

Shelly got up and sneered at Josh. "How could you? You're supposed to be her friend." She scowled at him and added, "she trusted you," before storming off into the kitchen.

Josh slid up on the sofa next to Sarah. "Can you ever forgive me?"

Sarah patted the back of his hand. "You weren't supposed to hear all that." Then as if to put it behind her she asked, "Has Eddie called?"

"A little while ago. He said the two of you had some issues." Josh detected a slight curl at the corner of Sarah's lips and what looked like a blush. Was there an interest? Eddie had seemed defensive on the phone. Despite a pang of jealousy, Josh smiled.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Don't you start. Your son is obstinate, opinionated and boorish."

"Not at all like his father."

"Joshhhh, that's not fair, I—"

"I have half a mind to call the airline," Shelly said walking back into the room with a tray of tea. She set the tray on the coffee table and sat down next to Josh. "Tea?"

"No thanks, I never really—"

"She's trying to apologize." Sarah whispered.

"By all means then." Josh accepted the cup and with it Shelly's apology.

"So how'd you and Caitlin get along?"

"That's your daughter?" Shelly asked.

"We had a great time." Sarah said. "She's exactly like I pictured. And oh my God, can she dance. We met the boys at this little club and—"

"You went to a club?" Shelly's face registered shock.

"It was just a little place near the campus. She's amazing. Oh, I almost forgot, I have something to show you." Sarah went to the foyer and opened the suitcase Shelly had brought home. She pulled out a long cardboard tube then returned to the sofa. "I suppose I could have passed the part off as an ice cream maker or something, but can you imagine if they'd found this." Sarah slid a rolled piece of paper out of the tube and spread it out on the table.

"That's you." Shelly said to Josh.

Josh forced a smile. "Well, it looks like she's gotten the hang of portraiture." He suddenly felt very alone, isolated. Betty was gone, he couldn't see his children, life as he knew it was over, probably forever.

"Are you alright?" Sarah asked.

"Yeah, just tired. Hope I'm not coming down with something. If you ladies will excuse me, I think I'll go lay down." Josh got up and started for the stairs.

"Don't forget to call Eddie, I think he had some ideas he wanted to run by you."

Josh waved understanding, but didn't respond verbally as he climbed the stairs.

* * *

Shelly glanced toward the stairs before she spoke. "I think it's starting to get to him. Did I tell you he was ready to turn himself in at the airport?"

Sarah shook her head. "I wish we could—"

"You can." Shelly got up and led Sarah into the kitchen. "Haven't you told him how you feel—"

"Don't Shell. We're in different places."

"Oh, now you sound like him."

"He said that."

"Not that I believed a word."

"Shellll."

"Just sayin'." Shelly rinsed out their cups, then sat down at the table with Sarah. "So what about this Eddie, he too young?"

"I can't believe you said that, I'd never—"

"Never is a long time.

### Chapter 16

Josh stepped back from the cone and flipped up his face shield. As he brushed the metal shavings away, he glanced over at Clifford. "Let the girls know it's time."

"You know what time it is?"

"Doesn't matter, they're going to want to witness this."

"Okay, but you're going to regret it, women need their beauty sleep." Clifford tramped off across the shop and disappeared through the doorway into the tiny office.

Josh unbolted the housing and removed it from the lathe. After a few blasts of air took care of any remaining metal, shavings, he carried it over to the other bench where the cone sat nestled in the other half. He slowly eased the housing over the cone. "Perfect fit." In their haste, he and Eddie had failed to compare notes. As it turned out, Eddie had misread Josh's writing and instead of using thirty two degrees, used thirty five degrees. Josh surmised that those three degrees had allowed enough leakage so that the engine didn't function, or at least that was what he hoped. He finished assembling the components making sure to torque everything to Eddie's specs.

"Think it'll work?" Clifford said, walking up next to him.

"The girls on their way?"

"Yeah, should be here in a couple of minutes."

"Want to give me a hand with the plumbing?"

"Sure."

Josh and Clifford made all the final connections, then while Josh attached the electric pump, Clifford filled the reservoir with cooking oil. Finally they stepped back to admire their work.

"Over here," Josh shouted across the dark shop, hearing the door open and close. He and Clifford waited while Sarah and Shelly weaved their way through the equipment.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" Sarah said, pointing to her watch.

Josh glanced down at his watch. "Mine says two forty five, so that makes it three forty five here, right?"

Sarah and Shelly smirked.

"You'll want to remember that time, it'll be important someday." Josh stepped toward the workbench and turned around as the girls joined Clifford. "Okay, this is what we've been working toward." He rested his hand on the small machine tucked under a tangle of tubing. "Clifford attached fan blades to the shaft so you can see that it's running."

"So it's a fan?" Shelly asked.

Josh smiled. "It's a fan, a generator, a car engine, an almost free source of power."

Shelly crossed her arms in obvious disbelief. "So you can put that little thing in my car and I can drive around without buying gasoline?"

"Exactly." Clifford replied. "No gasoline, no propane, no nothing."

"That's imposs—"

Sarah cut her off with an elbow to the ribs. "We're ready."

Josh flipped the switch on the electric pump and as it gained speed, the fan began to slowly turn. Within a few minutes, it was going fast enough to generate a slight breeze. Josh flipped off the pump and unplugged it from the wall. The fan kept spinning. They stood mesmerized as the nearly silent fan gained momentum scattering the debris on the bench.

"What's making it go?" Sarah asked.

"Once the cooking oil—"

"Cooking oil?"

Josh laughed. "Yeah. It gets pretty hot, I figured conventional motor oil would breakdown. Anyway, once the hot oil is circulating, the cone keeps it going. Kind of like a little tornado."

"No fuel." Shelly said with a sarcastic tone.

"That's right."

"But the oil companies—"

"Right." Josh interrupted. "And they're just the tip of the iceberg. One of these could sit in the cellar of a home and generate all the electricity a family could ever need."

"Oh my God, Josh!" Sarah gasped, putting her hand over her mouth. "I knew what you were doing, but I never—I mean I had no idea—I thought—"

"It's pretty amazing isn't it." Josh's enthusiasm was reflected in the other's faces. "I couldn't have done this without the lot of you."

"Call him." Sarah whispered.

"Who?"

"Eddie. He'd want to be part of this."

"You call him." Josh pulled out his cell phone and held it out to her. "I'm sure he'd rather hear about it from you." Shelly's glare caught Josh by surprise.

"Don't be ridiculous," Sarah said, "you're his father, the two of you did this."

"Have it your way." Josh pulled back the phone and called. "Hey Eddie, listen to this." He extended the phone toward the engine. After a few seconds, he returned it to his ear. "It's the engine, it works." Josh didn't realize he was smiling, but it was contagious. As he listened, he noticed Clifford, Shelly and Sarah smiling. "Yeah, it was the whole degree thing... yep, quiet as a sewing machine... It's hooked up to a fan right now, blew all the junk off the bench." Josh glanced down at his watch. "I guess about five minutes... maybe it was just because it was built out of wood. It'll take too long for you to retool, so I think we should just send this one... She's right here." Josh glanced at Sarah. "I'm sure she wouldn't mind... yeah, yeah, I know... Okay, we'll work out the details later." Josh clicked the phone closed and turned his back to the engine. "I'd say a little celebration is in order."

"How about Sarah and I cook up a some breakfast." Shelly suggested.

"What do you say Clifford?"

Clifford scratched his head and yawned. "What the hell."

"Then breakfast it is."

"Josh?" Sarah said, but he didn't hear her.

"Why don't you two head back and get started while Clifford and I get our little toy packed up?"

"Josh, what's happening?" Sarah tugged on his sleeve.

The persistent hum of the fan intensified into a whine. Josh turned toward the engine. The increased speed exceeded the fan's balance causing a vibration. The entire apparatus began shaking. "Not again." Josh groaned. "Right about now's where I crashed the mini-bike." Josh tossed a rag into the fan trying to slow it down, but it was instantly shredded. The engine surged again and the whine became a high pitched scream. The shaking began to loosen fittings which in turn sprayed hot oil. "Get them back Clifford. Get them back!"

Clifford hurried the girls behind a piece of heavy equipment where they watched. Sarah screamed when a loud pop doubled Josh over. The workbench picked up the violent tremors from the engine causing one of the fittings to erupt like Old Faithful in a fountain of hot oil. Josh grabbed another rag, but this time instead of throwing it into the fan, he used it to keep from burning his hand and yanked one of the pipes lose. The geyser sputtered and the engine began to decelerate. Clifford and the girls crept out from behind the lathe as it came to a stop.

"What just happened?" Sarah said.

"Something to do with the oil getting hot, I think. Same thing happened to the wooden one, except it burst into flames."

"You're hurt." Sarah gasped.

Josh looked down at the blood oozing between his fingers. "Never was much for shop safety."

"It's not funny." Sarah peeled back Josh's fingers. "Let me have a look." A ragged piece of metal fan blade, protruded from Josh's bicep. "Josh, it looks bad, we better get you back to the house so I can clean it out."

"Not without our little gem." Josh grimaced as he pulled out the piece of metal. "Clifford, got any clean rags around here."

"Sure." Clifford tossed Josh a rag.

"Tie this tightly around the wound." Josh said to Sarah. "You can play with it once we get the shop cleaned up."

"But—"

"Why don't you and Shell wipe up the oil while Clifford and I get this taken apart." They made quick work of cleaning up. Once the engine was neatly tucked into an empty apple crate, they carted it back to Shelly's. After Sarah cleaned the wound, Josh and Clifford went into the living room while the girls started breakfast.

"Your arm okay?" Clifford asked as he plopped down on the sofa.

"Yeah, no big deal." Josh yawned. "Damn, I'm tired."

"I know what you mean. Maybe rest my eyes for a few minutes." Clifford leaned back and closed his eyes.

"Not a bad idea." Josh closed his eyes. "We're going to have to bring one of the lathes over to the garage."

"No problem, I'll take care of it in the morning." Clifford yawned. "In the morning."

* * *

The clatter of pots woke Josh, but he didn't open his eyes. He could hear Sarah and Shelly in the kitchen.

"They're both asleep." Sarah said.

"The stronger of the sexes? I don't think so." Shelly laughed. "Guess I could use the rest of my beauty sleep."

"Clifford doesn't seem to think so."

"Still, it's not easy staying ahead of a younger sister. You coming?"

"No, I um—well I—have to put the eggs away. I'll be up in a minute."

"Suit yourself." Shelly's footsteps trailed off up the stairs.

After a few minutes, the kitchen light clicked off and Josh waited for Sarah's footsteps to follow. Instead, the floor creaked next to his chair. He had the distinct feeling she was watching him. It had been one of the hardest things he'd ever done, but after months of wanting her, he pushed her away. He reasoned it was for her own good, he was too old, but the joy of success eroded his resolve. Their night together flashed through his thoughts. Maybe she knew how he felt. The cushions moved as she either sat or leaned over the arm of the overstuffed chair. Josh tried to keep his breathing calm all the while thinking of opening his eyes and taking her in his arms. Then he felt her touch. When she withdrew his cell phone, his heart sank. The cushions moved again followed by the squeak of the floor. Josh opened his eyes just a bit. Sarah was standing near the steps, her face illuminated by the screen's glow. She pushed a few buttons, then held the phone to her ear.

"Eddie?" he heard her whisper. "It's Sarah... he had an accident—no, he's fine, just a cut, but it took a few stitches. There's something wrong with the engine... I don't know, it went crazy... Yeah, Josh said like the mini-bike."

Josh strained to make her out in the dim light and as he'd feared, and hoped, her hand drifted down her neck, pausing between her collarbones, twirling a strand of hair. He'd used the gestures in his books, when one of his characters was falling in love. His heart sank as the diamond necklace he'd given her caught the light from the screen.

"Sure, it was fun... No, I'm not mad, I know you and Matt were just kidding. I don't know... but—sure, I guess, it's just—I know but... If you think it's the only way... sure. I'll have your dad call in the morning."

Josh closed his eyes when Sarah looked toward him.

"Yeah, me too. Goodnight."

* * *

Josh woke two hours later and glanced down at his hip. Sarah had neatly returned his cell phone to its holster. The room was now bathed in warm sunlight, but beyond the sheer curtains, the ground was covered with snow. Josh stretched and pushed up. "Oh, I didn't see you there."

"Shhhh," Shelly whispered, "Clifford's still asleep. That was quite a look."

"The engine—"

"Don't give me that, you weren't thinking about your engine."

"Of course I was. Once we make the engine public, this will all be over. I can go home."

"But not with Sarah."

"No, not with Sarah."

"I saw you last night, I was at the top of the stairs, I saw how you reacted."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're just going to push her away without ever telling her how you feel."

"I don't—" Josh stopped, realizing Shelly wasn't buying it. "It's better this way."

Shelly leaned back. "How gallant. You must be awfully proud of the sacrifice you're making."

"You don't know what you're talking—"

"I know exactly what I'm saying. You're in love with my sister, but you're afraid to admit it. If you'd just talk to her, tell her how you—"

"No. It's not that simple."

Clifford stirred and a silent awkwardness ensued. Finally Josh spoke. "I understand what you're trying to do, but it's not that simple. Besides, those two are made for each other." Josh forced a smile. "I realized it when she returned from Clemson."

"But she's in love—"

"No she's not. If you were at the top of the stairs last night, you heard what I did."

"Okay, I'll give you that, but—"

Josh shook his head. "You don't think we're going to pull this off without a cost do you?"

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing." Josh turned away.

"So you think your son—"

"Yeah, of course, he might think I'm a problem."

"Sarah might think the same."

"The same what?"

"Sarah!" Shelly turned beet red.

"Hey kiddo, we were just talking about you." Josh said.

"So I gathered. Who do I think like?"

"Eddie."

Although Sarah obviously tried to hide it, her blush was apparent.

Josh gave Shelly an I told you so glance and from her expression, she'd also noticed. "So, you feel like tackling another trip?" He asked.

"You're not serious." Shelly interrupted. "After what happened—"

"I was thinking Atlanta this time." Sarah said. "It's not quite so obvious. A book signing tour might be a good cover."

"Both good ideas." Josh nodded.

"You two are insane." Shelly's voice was sharp.

"What's all the racket?" Clifford groaned.

"You still want your eggs scrambled?" Josh asked.

"Yeah." Clifford sat up and stretched. "Sure."

A sense of accomplishment permeated the breakfast conversation as they celebrated the nights triumph. Sarah and Shelly exchanged a few verbal jabs over the impending trip, but even Shelly realized it was pointless to try to convince Sarah not to go. As they finished, Josh's cell phone rang. "Excuse me," Josh said, getting up from the table, "I need to get this." Josh walked over to the back door and peered out the window. It was starting to snow again. "Hey Eddie."

"So how'd it go last night, Dad?"

"Better than I expected really."

"No mishaps?"

"No." Josh stymied a smile, Eddie was fishing. "There is one issue though. After five or ten minutes, something happens that makes it run wild. I think that's why the wooden prototype caught fire. It must have something to do with heat."

"I agree. Peter thinks it's the power in the equation."

"Any idea how to control it?" Josh glanced over at the table and it was obvious Sarah was trying to listen.

"Already on it Dad. I think a staging valve on the intake side should control the oil flow and, therefore, the RPM and power. A little computer program could monitor the output pressure; but I know you're trying to keep this simple, so I think I've come up with a way to do it mechanically. And before you ask, yes, it will be reliable."

"Sounds like a plan. The only other thing then is the rats nest of tubing."

"We're on it. I want to redesign the housing. The two halves are difficult to make. I figure a single piece with a backing plate will be simpler. In a manufacturing environment, I think most of the plumbing could be cast into the housing like an automatic transmission, but for now, we'll use a tubing bender and just snug everything up tight and neat."

"Damn proud of you son. Guess that only leaves getting it to you for your demonstration. Sarah again?"

"I don't know Dad, I've been thinking—I heard she was followed last time and if they're still watching her..."

Josh glanced over at Sarah and smiled. His son's concern for Sarah confirmed Josh's hunch. "She'll be fine, we can pass this off as a book signing tour. Damn thing isn't much larger than a shoe box, so we can mix it in with a box of books—maybe make it look like the base of a display or something."

"Okay Dad, as long as you thoroughly brief her. I don't want to see her get in any trouble on our account."

"No problem, we'll have a powwow and—"

"That's not funny Dad. Just make sure you cover all the bases. When?"

"Tomorrow if we can make the arrangements."

"Make it Atlanta instead of Greenville."

Josh could feel the excitement in Eddie's voice. "Alright then, Atlanta it is."

"That'll give me two days to get everything working—Friday, I'll show Dr. Beasley on Friday."

Josh glanced over at Sarah again. "She's a nice kid, try to show her a goodtime—not all work." Josh lowered his voice. "And Eddie, the authorities—"

"You're telling me after you've been gallivanting all over Nova Scotia? Don't worry, we're secure at this end, just make sure you do the same. Gotta head to class, talk to you later."

"See ya." Josh closed the phone and headed back to the table. "Well, it's all set. Eddie said we're a go as long as you're okay with it."

Sarah swallowed hard. "Sure, I'm okay with it."

"Hey, I got an idea." Clifford said. "Why don't we separate Sarah and your little package."

Both Sarah and Shelly leaned forward with interest.

"What'd you have in mind?" Josh asked.

"George, a friend of mine—old poker buddy really—works freight up at Halifax. I could take the box to him and have him air ship it to Atlanta. That way Sarah'd never have to touch it."

"Sounds good. What about an addressee?"

"We can just pick a company name out of the phone book and put your son's name as the person to sign for it."

"What do you think Sarah?" Josh asked.

Sarah hesitated understandably wrestling with the trauma of the last flight.

"Tell you what," Josh said, "Shell, why don't you check and see if there's a direct flight to Atlanta, and Clifford, why don't you give your friend a call? And Clifford, not a word about what's in the package."

"Right, I'll tell him it's a custom car part." Clifford started toward the kitchen phone, but Shelly snagged him and led him into the other room.

Sarah reached across the table, and took Josh's hand. "I don't want to disappoint you, but—"

"Me?" Josh faked a laugh. "I think it's Eddie you'd disappoint." There was no mistaking Sarah's blush before she turned her head. "Honest though, if you're not comfortable with going, Eddie can pick up the part without you."

"Guess what." Shelly called from the dining room. "There's a direct flight from Halifax to Atlanta tomorrow morning—nonstop."

Clifford and Shelly appeared in the doorway. "George is good as long as I get the package to him this afternoon."

"Well, I guess I can't let everyone down." Sarah said. "I'll do it."

Josh tried to hide it, but a strange feeling of failure, of loss came over him.

"What's wrong?" Sarah asked.

Josh didn't answer.

"Clifford," Shelly said, turning him toward the dining room, "Why don't you help me with the reservations?"

Sarah waited until they left the room before she spoke. "I'll be fine."

Josh forced a smile, glancing inadvertently toward the door.

"Oh I get it, it's not just me."

"I don't think you all understand the magnitude, the danger."

"I know, believe me I know."

"I'm sorry, that's not what I meant, it's just—"

"We all knew this was important to you, and that was enough; but after what we saw—what we witnessed last night, I think we realized just how big a deal this really is. You and your sons' have made a remarkable discovery, but you have to trust us, it's what friends do."

"Yeah," Josh said, pulling his hand away. "You'll do just fine."

The phone startled them. Shelly answered in the other room, but it was Clifford they heard repeating 'I see,' several times. After a few minutes, he and Shelly appeared in the doorway again. "We're all set." Clifford said.

"And?" Josh asked.

Clifford looked anxious. "George, my friend at the airport, said there were some guys asking around, said they showed him a picture. From his description, sounded like you, Josh." There was a collective gasp.

"It was just a matter of time." Josh said, trying to look calm. "Did they give your friend any indication they had any leads?"

"No."

"Then we continue. Clifford, after you drop off the package, do you think you can swing by and pick up the ingot we need."

"Not a problem."

"Then we're still a go."

They all jumped when the doorbell rang. Clifford went to the back door. "That'll be our piano."

"Piano?"

"The lathe. Once we have the ingot, we're open for business."

### Chapter 17

Sarah stared down through the morning haze as the Boeing 707 passed New York City. Although she'd never seen them, the missing Twin Towers were the very reason they faced such difficulty transporting the engine. So far, they'd spot checked her luggage in Halifax and she expected another check in Atlanta. She was thankful Clifford had come up with the idea of sending the engine ahead. Her seat was near the rear of the plane and she'd boarded late so she could get a look at the other passengers. From what she saw, no agents, at least no one that jumped out at her. Light turbulence made her eyelids heavy and for the first time since she boarded the plane, she allowed herself to relax.

It's strange how a person's memory is selective. Her first trip was frightening, the apprehension, the insults, the strip search; but what she chose to remember, was Eddie and his friends. Matt's carefree nature was contagious, Caitlin's talent stunning, Peter was shy—smart, and Eddie, well Eddie was nothing like she'd imagined. His arrogant, boyish, bravado should have been a complete turnoff; but the way he danced, held her in his arms and how that made her feel, that's what she remembered. She replayed their dance, but not in a tiny southern honky-tonk, no, she replayed it with all the splendor of Disney's Beauty and the Beast. She was Belle, wearing a satin gown, and Eddie, the beast. Was there really something there? The squeal of tires hitting the Atlanta runway woke her. Nerves rolled her stomach as they taxied across a rain soaked tarmac. The flight attendant made the baggage pickup announcement as they pulled up to the gate.

Sarah watched the orchestrated parade of service personnel unload the baggage until the mayhem in the aisle subsided, then followed the throng to baggage claim. She'd expected Caitlin to meet her, but did not see her. Her suitcase passed by twice, but she was unable to get close enough to retrieve it. Finally, she squeezed between two women and snatched it off the turntable. _Maybe she got caught in traffic,_ Sarah thought, _I wonder where I should wait?_ She extended the telescopic handle on her suitcase, then started for a small pastry shop. As she walked, she had the distinct feeling she'd picked up a tail. Her pace quickened, but a strong man's hand grabbed the handle of her suitcase.

"Ms. Amirault?" A deep voice said from behind her. "Come with me please."

Sarah stopped, summoned her courage and turned around. "You!"

Beneath a chauffeur's cap, Eddie was dressed in a t-shirt, shorts and sandals. He made an exaggerated bow. "Shall we?"

"You nearly gave me a heart attack."

Eddie bobbed his brow. "I tend to have that affect on women."

"Ah! You're incorrigible."

Eddie just smiled, took her suitcase and led her toward the parking garage. As they approached a rusty old van, he said, "I'm afraid ma ladies carriage is not up to her usual standards, but it is inconspicuous." He opened the sliding door with a teeth jarring screech, then tossed Sarah's suitcase in the back, knocking a bucket of nuts and bolts off one of the shelves. They rained down on the metal floor like hail.

"So much for inconspicuous." Sarah wiped her hand across her forehead. "You just can't get good help these days."

"No tip on this trip, might as well get the bitch home." Eddie slammed the sliding door, ran around the front and hopped in the driver's seat. "Well, you just going to stand there?"

As Sarah opened the passengers door and climbed in up front, she spotted the plain cardboard box next to her suitcase. "Is that what I think it is?" When Eddie nodded, she sighed with relief.

Eddie mimicked her sigh. "Can it wait until we get home or should we stop at a hotel?"

"I never!" Sarah turned toward the window.

"Ahhh, a virgin, Matt would approve."

Sarah could see in the rearview mirror her face was crimson. "I liked you better as a man servant."

"By all means, anything ma lady desires?"

Sarah couldn't think of a come back.

"Well then, off we go."

Eddie had to crank the old engine over a few times before it finally coughed to life in a cloud of blue smoke that billowed through the parking garage. He ground the gears several times, trying to get it into reverse.

Josh had told Sarah that Eddie used to drag race so she couldn't resist. "Not used to a clutch?"

"Just anxious to get to that hotel." Eddie stomped on the floor and the transmission clunked into gear. "Hold your panties." The van lurched forward, backfired, stalled, the momentum restarted it and then they shuttered toward the parking gates. Between the engine trying to die and the heavy traffic, Eddie was busy.

It occurred to Sarah that maybe Eddie's bravado was kind of a cover. He'd been rude when they first met, but softened as time went on. Dare she think it was her? She glanced over and caught him looking at her. They both immediately looked back out the windshield. Sarah couldn't see a thing out her side because the wiper was missing half the rubber. She pulled her feet up as another spray of water splashed through the floorboards.

"We were going to fix it up for tailgating." Eddie said.

"You ought to put an engine like the one in the box in it, it's much quieter."

"You were there?"

"Yeah, your dad wanted us all to witness it. Not for validity, but because he said it was something we could tell our children about one day."

"Children, huh."

"Oh God no, I didn't mean—"

"Was it as quiet as he said?"

"Like a sewing machine, that is until—well—until it went berserk."

"He okay?"

"Yeah, I patched him up."

"Bet that was fun."

"Oh yeah. He said you had an idea of what went wrong?"

For the next hour they talked about the engine and what Eddie thought happened. Sarah didn't understand all his technical jargon, but she saw the same passion she'd seen in Josh. They became so engrossed in the conversation, Eddie missed the exit. He peeled off on the next one and worked his way back.

"Hungry? Dad said you liked Mexican."

"I'm starved, they didn't feed us on the plane."

The van squealed around the corner, sputtered and died. Eddie drifted into a parking space. "Down here we call 'em Taco Hell, but the food's cheap and not half bad. Shall we?" Eddie opened the door and hopped out.

"What about the keys?"

"Folks around here are trustworthy."

"What about—"

"You wanna play guard, suit yourself." Eddie closed the door and ran into the store.

Sarah jumped down, slammed the door and ran for the doors as the rain began to pick up. She joined Eddie in line. Eddie ordered a couple of burritos and two Dr. Peppers. After he paid, they sat at an isolated table in the back.

"So," Eddie said after taking a sip of soda, "what's with you and Dad? You an item?"

The question, and Eddie's casual way of asking, completely caught Sarah off guard. What was he really asking and why? For reasons Sarah still didn't understand, she and Josh didn't connect beyond that night. As her silence lingered, fear crept in. She could just say yes and be done with it. "Outside of our professional relationship, we're friends."

"Really, I thought—"

"No." Guilt immediately grabbed her by the throat. How could she lie about Josh? Why keep it from Eddie?

"Well, there you have it then." Eddie leaned to his right and looked her up and down. "So what makes you want to freeze your ass off up north?"

"That'll have to wait till the hotel, cowboy." Sarah shot back, leaning to the side and sizing him up.

Eddie's choking brought a smile to her face. _Score one for me,_ she thought. The conversation took a sharp u-turn as they discussed the weather, Sarah feeling it was warm, Eddie it cold. As they finished eating, the sun emerged from beneath the clouds bringing with it a rainbow.

"Maybe a bit of luck." Sarah said.

"We could use it. Finished?"

"Sure, thanks."

Eddie dumped their trash on the way out, then held the door for her. "See," he said motioning toward the van, "safe and sound."

Sarah smirked. "I don't know about safe, or sound, but at least it's still here."

This time there was no starting the reluctant chariot. After the fifth try, the battery gave out. Eddie sat back for a minute. "You just might get that hotel after all."

"How convenient." Sarah teased.

"Jump it?"

"I'll drive."

"Figures." Eddie hopped out and Sarah slid over onto the driver's seat. "Once I get it rolling—"

"I know, second gear and pop the clutch."

"Damn girl, you're not just a pretty face are you?"

Eddie pushed the van back out of the parking spot and then went around to the rear and started pushing. As the van rolled down the hill toward the exit, Sarah let out on the clutch and the van lurched to life. Eddie swung the back door open and jumped in. "Welcome to the land of hoopty cars. Take the next right and keep on a goin'."

Sarah pulled out on the main road and glanced back as Eddie climbed over the junk then squeezed between the front seats. She cringed as she ground it into third gear.

"Not so good with the stick, huh?"

Sarah double pumped the clutch and jammed it into fourth.

"Ahhh," Eddie grinned, "a little pumpin' of the hydraulics never hurt."

Sarah could tell her face was as red as what little paint remained on the van. It was obvious he was intentionally trying to embarrass her. "You know how it is with these old ones, once they're worn out, there's not much you can do."

Eddie burst out laughing. "Past the next red light about half a mile, hang a left on the dirt road. It's just past a hole in the fence. I bet if you pump it a few times, it'll go right in for you."

"Really." Sarah downshifted without using the clutch and whipped around the corner. The van slid on the dirt toward a huge puddle. Sarah over corrected, but yanked it back. The sudden jerk sent Eddie crashing against the door. It flew open and he was gone. "Oh my God!" Sarah trounced on the brake, killing the engine. "Eddie! Eddie!" she yelled as she jumped out and ran to the back of the van. He was laying motionless on his back in the middle of the puddle. "Oh my God," Sarah panted. "What do I do?" She looked down at the muck and yelled, "Eddie, can you hear me? Are you alright?" Her heart was racing. A quick look around confirmed what she already knew, they were in the middle of nowhere.

Eddie moaned.

"Don't move!" Sarah kicked off her shoes, rolled her jeans up to her knees, then plodded into the ankle deep muck. She squatted down when she reached him. He appeared to be unconscious, his breath shallow. "What do I do?" This time her voice was broken, almost in tears. She leaned over to listen for a heartbeat.

"Mouth to mouth might be nice."

"What!" Sarah recoiled as Eddie opened his eyes. "Ahhhhh!"

"Now you've gone and ruined the moment. With a quick little jerk, Eddie knocked Sarah over. She landed in the cold water with a squeal. Eddie pushed himself up, stood and offered her his hand.

"Very funny," Sarah whined, splashing water at him. Suddenly Eddie grabbed her hand and yanked her to her feet. "What are you doing?" Sarah resisted as he pulled her against his chest. The squeal of tires caught her attention and she looked back toward the main road. Eddie covered her with his arm as a light, gold Pontiac slid around the corner and plunged head-long into the puddle.

"Heeeeee hawwwww!" Someone yelled.

Sarah buried her face against Eddie's chest as a wave of muddy water crashed over them. Coughing and drenched to the bone, Sarah wiped her eyes and stared at the hood of the car just a few feet away from them.

"Dudes, like it's totally too cold for swimming."

"Matt!" Sarah groaned. "I should have known."

"Hey sweet thing, aren't you a sight for sore eyes." Matt's face filled with a boyish grin.

Sarah looked up into Eddie's eyes. His hair was plastered with mud against his head and a stream of dirty water trickled down his right temple. He was looking down at her, still holding her tightly against his chest. Their eyes met as Sarah realized her arm was around his waist.

"Get a room!" Matt yelled.

They immediately let go of each other and stepped back. A vapor-blue Volkswagen bug rounded the corner and pulled to a stop next to the puddle. The tinted window rolled down. "You miss the turn again Matt?" Caitlin asked. "Eddie, is that you? Sarah? Sarah! What happened?" Caitlin jumped out of her car. "E...d...d...i...e..."

Eddie held up his arms. "She was driving, or should I say, crashing?"

Sarah slugged him. "Not fair, you're the idiot who fell out."

Caitlin bent down and picked up Sarah's shoes. "Come on, get your things, I'll take you back to the dorm so you can shower."

Sarah stuck her tongue out at Eddie and waded out of the puddle. Caitlin grabbed her suitcase and a blanket out of the back of the van. Sarah wrapped herself in the blanket and got in Caitlin's car.

"You're such an Amazon." Caitlin yelled as she put Sarah's suitcase in the back of her car.

"Matt," Eddie said, walking toward the van, "might need a push." Eddie closed the rear door and hopped in as Matt eased up behind the van.

"Ah! You two!" Caitlin plopped onto the driver's seat. Matt's wheels threw a rooster tail of muddy water as he pushed the van. It started and they took off down the road. Caitlin looked over at Sarah and covered her mouth.

"What?"

Caitlin turned the rearview mirror toward Sarah.

"Crap!" Sarah gasped. A clump of mud was tangled in her hair.

"Exactly." They burst out laughing. Caitlin started the car and carefully backed around the edge of the puddle, then pulled out on the main road. "Those two, I swear."

* * *

Three hours later, Caitlin and Sarah pulled up in front of the barn. The clouds had cleared and a cool evening was setting in. "Oh look," Caitlin said, "Peter's here already." Caitlin glanced down at her watch.

"What?"

"Like they're totally going to want us to go for pizza." Caitlin opened the door and they stepped inside to the aroma of pepperoni.

"There you are," Eddie said, "we were beginning to think you got lost again. We got plain for Caitlin and there's pepperoni. Hope that's okay?"

"Sure." Sarah and Caitlin each grabbed a slice of pizza and joined the boys at the picnic table under the loft. Eddie had changed clothes, but there was still mud in his hair and the pungent smell of stagnate water. The conversation was primarily about school with an occasional question directed toward Sarah.

"Everyone ready?" Eddie said, swinging his legs over the bench then standing.

"For what?" Caitlin asked.

"The big moment."

"Really!" Caitlin and Sarah looked at each other.

"Wait here." Eddie got up and went into the shop.

"Wait till you see it." Brandon said.

"It's soooo totally sweet." Matt crooned.

"Theory meets reality." Peter added.

"I like that." Sarah said. "Theory meets reality. Profound, don't you think?"

The door to the shop squeaked open and Eddie rolled out a go-cart with the new engine on the back. The tangle of pipes were gone, replaced with a series of tubes tucked tightly around the casing. What was a bench top contraption, now looked like the engineering marvel Sarah knew it was. They all got up and gathered around. Sarah cocked her head as she noticed the bold initials TBG etched into the top of the casing. "What does that stand for?"

"Ah, you noticed." Eddie smiled. "It's an old Chevy adage; it stands for Touched By God. It referred to the Chevy small block as the ultimate V8—"

"Amen." Matt interrupted, bringing his baseball cap down to cover his heart.

"but I thought it appropriate."

"Amen." Sarah agreed. She glanced around and everyone was smiling.

"I don't know what to say guys, this hasn't been easy with school and all." Eddie nodded toward Sarah. "Some of us have even had to leave our country. All I know is, we're a great team."

"Alright already, let's get this show on the road." Matt blurted out.

"Come on Matt," Eddie said, "admire the wonder of it." He stooped down next to the engine. "We've added a valve, kind of like a throttle body. If all goes as planned, it should control the RPM. Volunteers?"

Caitlin nudged Sarah forward. "Someone's got to humor him."

Eddie took Sarah's hand and helped her onto the seat. Once seated, he explained the various parts. "Okay, like a car, this is the gas pedal, the tachometer and this is the start switch." He pointed to a button on the steering column brace next to Sarah's knee.

"How do I stop it?" Sarah asked.

"It ain't even run yet, sweetheart." Matt joked.

Eddie took Sarah's hand and guided it to a lever next to the seat. His touch was gentle, almost soft. It brought butterflies to Sarah's stomach.

"This is a bypass. Pulling this lever diverts the oil away from the cone and it should stop."

"Should?" Sarah looked toward the front of the go-cart, trying to control the trembling in her legs. "Do I need a helmet?"

"No," Eddie chuckled, "this is just to test the engine' we haven't hooked it up to the drive train yet."

"Oh good," Sarah sighed.

"Now there's a vote of confidence if I ever heard one." Matt laughed.

"Okay," Eddie continued, "push your foot to the floor—that's it, now flip the starter switch—that's it. Now watch the tach, it should run on it's own around twelve hundred RPM."

Sarah could feel a slight vibration in the seat as the needle climbed.

"Okay, that's it, now flip off the starter."

But when Sarah reached down and flipped the switch, the RPM started to fall. Eddie flipped the switch back on and pushed the accelerator back to the floor.

"What's wrong?"

Eddie didn't answer, but as the needle climbed past three thousand RPM, he toggled the pump off again. This time the RPM held. He looked back and winked at Sarah.

"It didn't work?" Matt groaned.

Peter looked over at Matt. "It's running you idiot."

"Oh dudes, we gotta fix that. It ain't never gonna sell if it doesn't make any noise. How are you going to hotrod that?" Matt shrugged his shoulders.

Eddie patted Sarah's leg. "Okay, nice and easy now let's try easing back on the accelerator. That's it—easy—crap, push it in a little. There, hold it right there." Eddie stuck a screwdriver under the pedal and adjusted a set screw. He stood up and offered Sarah his hand. "Up you come."

Sarah climbed out of the go-cart.

"That's it?" Matt whined.

Peter slapped Eddie five and turned to Matt. "Oh yeah, that's it."

Matt pulled out a bottle of champagne from behind his back, shook it and sprayed it in the air. Brandon grabbed a two liter bottle of Dr. Pepper off the picnic table and joined Matt, spraying everyone. Eddie pulled Sarah into his arms.

"It's amazing isn't it?" Sarah said.

Eddie nodded, but seemed to sense Sarah's apprehension. "See that lever on the right side of the seat?"

"Yes."

"It's connected to a can of 134a—"

"134a?"

"Refrigerant. If the engine starts to get out of control, it will cancel out the heat portion of the equation."

Sarah rested her hand on his chest. His heart was pounding. Of course, it could have been exhilaration. "What if you can't control it? What if it's beyond control?" Sarah felt his arms tighten around her. He still smelled like dirty pond water, but she moistened her lips and let her eyes drift closed as his hand slid up her back.

* * *

Caitlin nudged Peter, then nodded toward Eddie and Sarah. "I think there might be something there."

"She tell you that?"

"Oh no, nothing like that, she just has that—"

"Ten bucks says you're wrong."

"You're on."

"I'll have a piece of that." Matt added. "No way my man is going to get hooked up with some chick, not now."

Caitlin made momentary eye contact with Eddie.

"What?" Eddie said.

"Dude, when do we get to drive this thing?" Matt said as he walked over to the go-cart.

Eddie abruptly released Sarah and joined Matt next to the engine. "We've still got issues, it seems to only want to run at one speed. We're going to have to get creative..." And just like that, Sarah and Eddie's moment passed.

### Chapter 18

Sarah stretched and sat up around five the next morning. She'd been sleeping at the picnic table, but Caitlin's expression when she told her she was going to stay behind with Matt and Eddie still gnawed at her. Then there was Peter's comment, 'I feel richer already'. Sarah was sure it didn't have anything to do with the engine. The engine, what was wrong with the engine? What seemed like a miracle, obviously had problems in application. Was all this for nothing? The shop door opened and Eddie appeared from the darkness pushing the go-cart. Sarah slid off the bench and met him halfway across the barn. "Where's Matt?"

"Fell asleep. What are you doing here?"

"I thought I'd stay behind in case you needed any help. I looked in on you a few times, but you two were so engrossed, I didn't want to get in the way. Did you fix it?"

"I think we got something worked out for the demonstration." Eddie motioned toward the back of the go-cart which now included an electric motor and a generator.

"You made it electric?"

"The engine seems best suited to run at a constant speed. Not good for a car, but good for power generation. As a matter of fact, when Matt and I were testing it, the engine responded to an electric load with more power to maintain the RPM. Not exactly sure why, but the more load, the more power."

"That's good, right?"

"Yeah, that's good. So you want to help, huh? How about pushing while I grab the door?"

"Okay."

Even though Eddie eased the door back slowly, the rusty wheels squealed in defiance.

"That feels wonderful." Sarah said as she pushed the go-cart out into the morning sunshine.

"Not bad for February. I'm not much for helmets, you need one?"

"Me?"

"Sure, you said you wanted to help. It's a bench seat, might as well ride shotgun."

"Okay." Sarah tried to sound indifferent, but the idea of the engine sitting right behind her was more than a little frightening, especially after what happened to Josh.

Eddie closed the door and walked up next to her. "After you." Sarah climbed in and Eddie slid down behind the wheel. "A little tight." He wrapped his arm over the seat behind her.

"You _can_ control this, right?"

Eddie reached down and threw the switch that started the engine. "Control is over rated, don't you think?"

Almost instantly, a slight vibration began to resonate in the seat. She glanced over at Eddie. His smile was infectious. "Well?" She shrugged.

Eddie eased the throttle toward the floor. The hum in the seat became a groan, but nothing happened. "You feel that? That's the engine compensating for the load."

"Are we too heavy?" The go-cart lurched forward a few inches and Eddie hit the brake. "You want me to get off"

"Get off?" Eddie flashed a devilish grin and mashed the throttle.

They plunged head long into the adjoining field, chased by a rooster tail of mud and gravel. Sarah's shriek sent several quail to flight. The grass was tall, over their heads and for a moment, Sarah thought about jumping, but when she glanced over at Eddie, he was still grinning. Her knuckles turned white as her grip on the side bars tightened. When they burst into a clearing, Eddie yanked the wheel hard over putting them in a slow drift that sent them down a path into the woods. "Be careful!" Sarah shouted before she realized the engine was virtually silent. "Be careful, you don't want to break it."

Eddie imitated the architect from the movie Titanic. "I've built you a good ship, Rose."

They spent the next half hour wandering through the trails. Sarah thoroughly enjoyed the countryside, and of course, the company wasn't bad either. Even Eddie seemed surprised how close they could get to the wildlife before they spooked. As they rounded a turn, Eddie jerked the wheel, sliding Sarah up against his leg. After a few times, Sarah realized he was doing it on purpose. As they approached the next turn, she grabbed the side rail and pulled herself away from him.

Eddie glanced down at her hand. "So it's going to be like that." He cut the next corner, but the wheels on Sarah's side clipped an exposed root and bounced her up on the edge of the seat. Eddie grabbed her belt and pulled her back in. When Sarah slapped him, he locked up the brakes and they spun off the path into a thicket.

Sarah removed his hand from her belt and placed it on the steering wheel. "I'd like to keep my pants on, thank you very much."

"I'd hope so on a first date."

"Date? I don't consider this—"

"Let's see what she'll do."

"I think I've seen quite enough."

Eddie trounced on the throttle and they zipped down the path emerging on a narrow strip of asphalt barely wide enough for two cars to pass. "Ready?"

"For what?"

"Hold on." Eddie floored it. Within seconds, tears were streaming across Sarah's temples, the wind whistling in her ears. "Do you hear that?" Eddie shouted.

"All I hear is the wind."

"Exactly!"

Sarah threw her arms over her head, her hair straight back like a scarf, and shouted. "Yieeeee haaaaa!"

"Heeee haaaaaa!" Eddie joined in.

Sarah's heart leapt into her throat as a police car with its red and blue lights flashing, pulled along-side. Eddie acknowledged the officer and they began to decelerate. As they eased onto the shoulder and came to a stop, the police car pulled in behind them. Sarah sat rigid, her hands on her knees. Eddie reached over and rested his hand on hers with a wink.

"Mornin' Officer Chaney.

A tall, heavy-set police officer leaned forward and stared over his sunglasses. "That you Ed? What the hell you doin' up at this hour?"

"A little test drive, figured it wouldn't do no harm this early."

"A test drive's one thing, but—oh, pardon me ma'am." Officer Chaney leaned forward and gave Sarah a once over. "You're not from around here?"

Sarah couldn't speak, but Eddie answered. "Officer Chaney, this is Sarah, Sarah Amirault. She's visiting from Canada."

"Like the geese then. Reckon you don't want to be there in the winter, probably snow up to your as—well, you know what I mean." Officer Chaney removed his hat and wiped the perspiration off his face with a handkerchief. "Keep it off the pavement, comprende? One of the state boys catch you out here, you'll be lookin' at a hefty fine."

"You happen to clock us?"

"About thirty over." Officer Chaney put his hat on, tipped it to Sarah, then headed back to his cruiser.

Sarah finally let out a sigh as the police car drove past.

"You see what I see?" Eddie said, nodding toward a rusty sign protruding from the underbrush in front of them.

Sarah's gaze followed his to the sign. "Speed limit forty." Sarah read.

"You know what that means?"

"We were going seventy miles an—" Sarah turned toward Eddie and their eyes met, but this time neither turned away.

"There was nothing but you, me and the wind. Doesn't seem natural."

"Oh, I don't know, it feels perfectly natural to me." Sarah rolled her hand over to meet his. Their fingers laced together and their hands slid off Sarah's knee to the seat between them. The sound of their pounding hearts was joined by the wind as Eddie pulled back out on the road.

* * *

A knock at the door triggered Shelly's frightened expression. She hesitated while Josh got up and went into the kitchen in what had become routine. Josh lingered in the doorway as Shelly went to the front door and habitually looked back before opening it. Josh forced a reassuring smile then stepped out of sight.

"Good afternoon, are you Ms. Shelly Amirault?" A formal sounding man's voice asked.

Josh eased closer to the doorway having detected a familiarity in the voice.

"Well, good afternoon to you too." Shelly's tone was playful, but Josh could sense her anxiety.

"I'm Special Agent Corp. We're investigating the disappearance of this woman."

Josh peeked around the corner as the man handed Shelly an 8x10 photograph.

"Do you recognize her, Ms. Amirault?"

"No..." Shelly laughed.

"I fail to see the humor in a missing person."

"She's not missing."

"She?"

Josh eased back into the kitchen as the man stepped into the doorway forcing Shelly to retreat into the foyer.

"You know perfectly well that's my sister."

"Do I?"

Josh's heart leapt into his throat when the phone rang. He knew it would be the phone tree with a warning, but they were a little late this time. Two rings, the signal.

"Are you the pervert who detained her in Boston? I have half a notion to report—"

"You're not alone."

Josh's gaze went immediately to the floor and his shadow in plain view from the foyer. Shelly must have seen it, that's why she went on the offensive. Josh looked up, but the back door was on the opposite side of the kitchen, past the entrance to the foyer. He began to panic.

"Now wait just a minute." Shelly protested. "You can't just barge into my home. You need a warrant or something."

"I have one, right here."

Josh pushed back against the pantry when suddenly the back door opened. _Clifford!_

Clifford nodded and quietly closed the door. "Shell?" He called toward the foyer. "Who's at the door?"

"It's about time." Shelly said as Clifford started for the foyer.

Josh glanced at the floor. He was out of the reflected light and no longer cast a shadow.

"And who is this?" Clifford said, stepping into the foyer.

"This is Officer Corp. He seems to think Sarah's missing."

"Missing? That's ridiculous. Isn't she on a book signing tour or something in the states?"

"Well, there you have it Mr. Corp. Seems she's not missing at all."

The front door squeaked and the foyer flooded with light.

"If there's nothing else?" Shelly's voice had an indignant edge.

Corp's reply came from the porch. "Have you seen any strangers in town lately?"

"Only you."

The door closed and Josh stepped into the foyer. "What'd he say his name was?" Josh knew, but hoped he had heard wrong.

"Corp." Shelly said. "Who is he?"

"The DHS agent from back home."

Shelly leaned back against the door. "At least if he's here, he's not following Sarah."

"Right."

Clifford seemed to pick up on something in Josh's tone, "but if he's here, they're getting close."

Josh nodded. "We may not have much time."

"He just said stranger," Shelly added, "he could have meant anyone."

"Or he could already know I'm here and didn't want to tip you off. Did he go next door? Across the street?"

Shelly peeked through the security peep hole. She turned back shaking her head. "No, his car is gone." The phone rang again. "I better get that, it'll be Marina." Shelly went into the kitchen.

Clifford looked at Josh. "Your son have the demonstration today?"

"Yes."

"Then everything worked okay?"

"Not exactly. They had the same problem with RPM we experienced. He didn't think it was feasible to try to make it variable speed so they hooked it up to a generator and used an electric motor for propulsion."

"Pretty smart. So do we start on the new ones then?"

"No. Ed's doing some redesigning to determine the correct size for an automobile. He's going to email the drawings to us from one of his friends accounts. We should have them tomorrow."

Shelly appeared in the living room and motioned for them to join her. "That was Marina, she said there was a car parked outside Sarah's and now there's one across the street from us." She pushed back the drapes, looked out, then let them fall closed. "Black."

"Going to make working in the garage a problem." Josh said as he sat down on the sofa.

"I can duct tape some paper over the windows."

"That's fine, except for the noise."

Shelly's face brightened with what looked like a revelation. "I'll be right back." She went into the kitchen and made a phone call. She returned a few minutes later and sat down across from Josh and Clifford. "Marina and the girls will be over this afternoon. We're going to start a band—"

"A what?" Clifford groaned.

"A band. Not really, but they're going to stop by the music store and rent instruments to make it look good. We'll set up in the garage and you can use a CD player to cover the sound of your equipment. They'll be here this afternoon."

"It just might work." Josh said, then turned to Clifford. "So I've been thinking, how difficult is it to make a propeller?"

* * *

Eddie cinched the last bungee and clipped it to the go-cart frame. Sarah leaned in over his shoulder and said, "It won't fall out, will it?"

"Very funny." Eddie replied, stepping back and closing the rear van doors. "Wish we had better tires, those knobby's aren't going to cut it in the turns."

"Like just because it's Pickens, doesn't mean it's a race." Caitlin said as she opened her car door and tossed her book bag in the back seat.

Eddie turned to Sarah. "It's great you want to come along. I think the engine is enough for Dr. Beasley, but a little eye candy couldn't hurt."

"Eye candy!" Sarah huffed.

"You two have fun." Caitlin waved, got in her car and left Sarah and Eddie glaring at one another.

As soon as Caitlin was out of sight, Eddie got in and started the van. Sarah held her ground and tried not to cough as a cloud of blue smoke enveloped her. _Eye candy!_ There was no doubt in her mind that Eddie knew it was insulting. Was he playing? It wasn't funny. Sarah could see herself staying put until he apologized, but she could see him driving off, leaving her stranded in the boonies too. The old van backfired, startling her back to the moment.

Eddie had climbed out of the van and was walking toward her. His pace could only be described as a march.

"You owe me an apoll—" Before she could finish, she was in his arms, his lips pressed against hers. His hand slid up her back until he cradled her neck. Sarah relaxed her jaw and their tongues met. When they did, she went limp in his arms. Was she dreaming? Then, as quickly as he started, Eddie pushed her back to arms length.

"Pickens is the oldest track in the country, the roots of NASCAR, I can't think of a better place to show this to Dr. Beasley. I want you to be there."

Sarah brushed her hair back. "Apology accepted." Without another word, they climbed in the van and headed for the main road.

They were quiet until Eddie said, "We've got some time, so I'm going to stop by my place to get cleaned up a little."

Sarah glanced at Eddie discretely a few times, but never made eye contact. The kiss—the toe curling kiss—was it really just an apology? If so, it was a cop out. But what about those butterflies she still felt in the pit of her stomach? What about those?

"Hey, you okay?"

Sarah snapped out of her daze. Eddie had her door open, waiting for her to climb out. She recognized the gray sided building from when she and Caitlin had stopped by on her first trip. Eddie closed the door behind her and headed up the stairs. He stopped on the second floor, unlocked Apartment 201 and motioned Sarah inside.

The room was scantly furnished, an old sofa covered with a purple and orange throw, an orange folding lounge chair with a white tiger paw print in the corner, and a wooden wire spool as a coffee table. Another smaller spool played host to the television and video game console. There were two bar stools pulled up to the counter in the kitchen.

"We've got about forty five minutes." Eddie said, tossing his keys on the counter. "Make yourself at home. You can watch T.V. if you want, this won't take long."

Sarah sat down on the lumpy sofa as Eddie disappeared into what she presumed was the bedroom. It seemed like only seconds before she heard the shower, but when she glanced up, she got flashed as Eddie passed the open doorway. She quickly looked away. She hadn't really seen anything, but never-the-less, her stomach did a little flip. She quickly picked up a magazine off the coffee table.

"You into drag racing?"

Sarah looked up, then quickly back to the magazine. Eddie was standing in the doorway wearing nothing but a towel, open up the side to a knot at his waist. "Not really, why?"

"The magazine."

"Oh," Sarah tried to laugh, but nothing came out. "Just something to read until you're finished."

"Sure you don't want a shower?"

"No!" She hadn't intended to sound startled, but her shill tone made it obvious. Was he inviting her into his shower? Maybe the kiss was more than an apology after all. Her heart was pounding so loud she was certain he could hear it. "I'm fine right here."

"Have it your way. There's Dr. Pepper in the frig, but I wouldn't eat anything in there. By the way."

Sarah looked up.

"Your magazine is upside down." Eddie turned and walked to the bathroom. His towel dropped as he rounded the corner.

"Ah!" Sarah groaned when she looked down at the inverted text. He knew all along, yet carried on a conversation as if nothing was wrong. She tossed the magazine on the table and went into the kitchen to pour a glass of soda. "He always gets the better of me." What sounded like an alarm clock started chirping from the bedroom.

"Could you get that?" Eddie yelled from the shower. "It's my cell. It's clipped to my belt—pants are on the bed."

Sarah hurried to the bedroom, but stopped in the doorway when she saw the bathroom door was open. "You stay put."

"You kidding?"

The phone rang again. "You stay put or I'm not coming in."

"Have it your way."

"Promise."

"Sure, whatever."

Sarah went straight to the bed keeping her back to the bathroom door and answered the phone. "Hello... no, this is his phone, he's in the shower.... Okay, half an hour, I'll tell him." She clicked the phone closed and set it on the bed. Like the main room, the bedroom was sparsely furnished, yet tidy. Sarah leaned over and bounced the mattress. It was firm, like it should be. For a moment, she let her imagination run and while in a kind of emotional fog, she walked toward the bathroom until she was standing in the open doorway. Steam billowed over the transparent shower curtain that, even had it not been fogged, would have concealed the occupant with a large, printed orange tiger paw. She was staring, knowing she couldn't see anything, or be seen, and leaned against the doorframe to steady herself.

"Who was on the phone?"

Sarah spoke softly so Eddie wouldn't know she was at the door. "It was Doctor Beasley, he said he'd be half an hour late." She slid off one shoe, then the other, while she slowly began to unbutton her blouse.

"That'll leave time for you to take a shower."

Sarah unclipped the front clasp of her bra, letting her breasts push the satin cups aside. "Just what are you suggesting?"

"What?" Eddie gurgled from under the showerhead.

"Are you asking—" Sarah nearly jumped out of her skin when his phone rang again.

"Would you grab—"

"I got it." Sarah raced back to the bed and answered the phone before it rang a second time. "Hello—Josh!"

"Hey kiddo, what are you doing answering the phone?"

Whatever she'd been feeling was instantly eclipsed by embarrassment. She rested the phone on her shoulder and fastened her bra.

"You okay? You sound out of breath."

"I'm fine. I had to run to get the phone. Eddie's in the shower."

"The shower, huh?"

"Don't you dare. He's getting ready to go demonstrate your engine. I wish you could have seen it. Eddie put the engine on a go-cart and we spent the morning driving through the countryside. Then, he took it out on the road and opened it up. It was exhilarating until we got pulled over by the police."

"The police?"

"Oh, don't worry, Eddie seemed to know him, he just told us to be careful. You know how fast we were going? Seventy miles an hour. Can you imagine?"

"Sounds great. So I take it the alterations worked out."

"You should see it, it looks just like you imagined. Eddie even engraved TBG on it. You know what that—"

"Touched by God. It's a Chevy thing."

"Peter said the engine was 'theory meets reality'. Doesn't that sound profound?"

"You should tell Eddie to make that the title of his thesis."

"I will." There was a pause in the conversation and Sarah looked toward the bathroom. "Josh, about Eddie—" She froze when the shower suddenly stopped. Standing there half dressed, she panicked. What if he came out of the bathroom. "I—I—"

"Tell Eddie to give me a call after the demonstration."

"Is something wrong?" Sarah began frantically tucking in her shirttail.

"No, nothing like that, we're just having some issues up here."

"What kind of issues? What aren't you telling me?"

"Nothing to worry your pretty head about."

It was silent for a moment and Sarah tiptoed to the door and snatched her shoes. "Josh?" she whispered into the phone as she returned to the bed. "Josh, are you there?"

"Eddie's a fine young man, Sarah. You two—well, you know. Have him call me."

"Josh? Hello?" Sarah closed the phone and tossed it on the bed. As she left the room, she heard Eddie push back the shower curtain.

### Chapter 19

Sarah seemed distracted, maybe even distant, since they left the apartment. Eddie was reasonably sure she'd been at the bathroom door while he was showering, but for whatever reason, came no further. Maybe he was imagining things. Maybe she thought his kiss was nothing more than the apology she expected, or more likely than not, he was just getting ahead of himself. After all, there was the whole 'fuck the Seminoles' incident at the barn. "Would you look at that, gas has gone up another eight cents since yesterday."

"Is there no end to it?" Sarah replied.

"There is." Eddie bobbed his thumb toward the back of the van as though he were hitchhiking. Sarah grinned, the first emotion she'd shown since they left and it brought a smile to Eddie's face. "Hold on, you don't want to fall out." He took the bear-off from Rt. 123 onto Whitehorse Road, then the immediate left into Pickens Speedway. Sarah didn't even react when he fishtailed in the gravel parking lot. It was like she didn't want to be there. Maybe he'd been too forward. Still, she seemed to—well, whatever was going on, would have to wait.

Eddie had been to Pickens with the Clemson race team many times his sophomore year and knew his way around. The gate was open, so he drove around back, crossed the track and parked in the infield. He wanted to ask Sarah what was wrong and kiss her, but what came out was, "So what's with you?"

Sarah glared at him, opened the door and climbed out. They met at the back of the van, but as Eddie reached for her, a white Lincoln crossed the track. Eddie recognized the white hair and beard behind the wheel at once. "Show time." They opened the rear doors and positioned the 2x10 ramps against the bumper.

Doctor Beasley parked next to the van. "Sorry I'm late, Edward."

"Not a problem sir, we just got here."

"Well, who do we have here?" Doctor Beasley extended his hand to Sarah.

"Eye candy, sir. You know to help seal the deal."

"Edward." Doctor Beasley visibly blushed. "That's not—"

"Just kidding. This is Sarah Amirault, she's from Nova Sco—"

"Ahhhh, a Canuck. Pleased to meet you, Miss Amirault. I vacationed in Nova Scotia in my younger days, beautiful country. You've been whale watching? Oh, listen to me, of course you have, you're a native—oh, I didn't mean that the way it sounded." Doctor Beasley's face reddened to the point he looked like Santa. "Please forgive me." He lifted Sarah's hand to his lips.

"Ah, ah, ah, no nibbling the candy." Eddie yanked back the tarp.

Doctor Beasley's face lit up as he stepped toward the go-cart. He looked up at Eddie several times as he examined the intricacies of the engine. "You built this?"

Eddie put his arm around Sarah's waist even though she resisted. "I had help, lots of help."

"It's remarkable." Doctor Beasley ran his hand over the engine as though it were fine velvet, his fingers lingering on the engraved letters TBG. He stood back. "If it performs as you say, perhaps it is touched by God."

Eddie and Sarah carefully rolled the go-cart down the ramps then stood back so Doctor Beasley could continue his examination.

"I see you've gone over to electric."

"Yes sir, the engine wants to operate at one speed, not particularly suited for propulsion."

"May I?" Doctor Beasley squatted down next to the engine.

"By all means, kick the tires, you're buying it." Eddie stepped next to Sarah and slipped his arm around her again as Doctor Beasley fussed over the engine. He looked over at her and mouthed, 'I'm sorry.'

"I didn't think you knew the word." Sarah whispered.

Eddie stuck out his lower lip. That brought a smile to Sarah's face. "Sorry you missed the shower."

Sarah punched him in the shoulder and pushed his arm away.

"I don't see an intake or exhaust." Doctor Beasley said, struggling to stand. "Not as young as I used to be."

Eddie grabbed his arm and helped him up. "No sir, it's a closed system. It recirculates the fuel, if you can call it fuel."

"And that is?"

"Cooking oil. About three quarts in this one."

"So it runs on bio-diesel."

"Nope, just plain cooking oil."

"I see. How many laps can you negotiate with three quarts?"

Eddie looked at Sarah. "What do you think, ten thousand? A hundred thousand?"

"A million?"

Doctor Beasley scratched his tiny beard with an obvious glower of doubt. "Well, let's have a look then, shall we."

"You bet." Eddie threw his leg over the steering wheel and slid down into the seat. He flipped the switch and the engine purred to life.

Sarah knelt down next to him and whispered. "Remember you don't have to go fast to prove it works. You said yourself the tires aren't any good. Just be careful."

"You getting sappy on me?" Eddie trounced on the accelerator and disappeared behind the pit wall.

As Eddie eased down the front stretch, he spotted Doctor Beasley and Sarah climbing the observation deck over the garage area. He carried through turns one and two, then zigzagged down the back stretch to warm up the tires. Like the test with Sarah, the engine was virtually silent. He carried enough speed into three and four to squeal the tires. This continued for several laps as Doctor Beasley and Sarah paced around the platform watching.

By the tenth lap, however, Eddie had become completely distracted by Sarah and almost clipped the wall coming out of turn four. This was his big technical triumph, the probable cornerstone of his career, the opportunity of a lifetime and all he could think about was her. She waved and started down the steps with Doctor Beasley on her heels.

"One more." Eddie pushed the pedal to the floor as he exited turn two and flew down the back stretch. The knobby tires chattered through three, but by the time he was in four, he had a dirt track style drift going that slid him right up next to the wall on exit. The speed down the front stretch was exhilarating and he carried it well into turn one before he had to tap the brake to hold his line. Again the tires chattered off turn two, but quieted down the backstretch. He glanced at the pits and briefly spotted Sarah and Doctor Beasley before diving into turn three.

* * *

"He's going entirely too fast." Doctor Beasley said as he followed Sarah across pit lane to the inside retaining wall along the front stretch. "It is spectacular, so quiet, absolutely spectacular."

Sarah forced a smile to hide her anxiety. He was doing it just to aggravate her. They'd talked about it. He even said the tires were bad. It wasn't a race. "If he hurts himself," Sarah mumbled. "I'll—I'll—Ah!" she shrieked as the thump of a tire blowing was immediately followed by the grating screech of metal against concrete. She exchanged a frightened glance with Doctor Beasley.

"What's happened?"

They both leaned over the wall and looked toward the exit of turn four. The go-cart appeared low in the turn trailing a shower of sparks from a tireless right, rear, rim, and despite Eddie's efforts, the go-cart shot up the bank into the wall. The ricochet off the wall put it up on two wheels and peeled the tire off the right front rim. Sarah cringed as it flopped back down on the concrete in a shower of sparks, spinning down the front stretch like a pinwheel on the fourth of July. She felt sick. Was he hurt? How bad? She was going to kill him.

The nose then caught the inside wall. The impact ripped off the front axle with the ensuing cartwheel severing the rear end. The oil reservoir ruptured in a brief ball of fire. Finally the go-cart skidded to a stop just a few feet from Sarah and a visibly shaken Doctor Beasley.

Eddie hopped up on the wall and patted out the flames on his sleeve. "Now that's a finish!"

"Are you all right young man?"

"Yes sir." Eddie looked at Sarah. "Told you the tires were no good."

"Ahhhh!"

"My feelings exactly." Eddie turned back to Doctor Beasley. "Well? What do you think?"

Doctor Beasley embraced him. "It's marvelous—in all my years—I was telling Miss Amirault, simply marvelous." He glanced over at Sarah then back to Eddie. "Now Edward, about your driving, an intelligent young man like yourself should be more careful."

"You sound like someone else I know."

Sarah returned his glare, but he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. She stumbled on a soda can at the base of the wall and plopped down on the wall next to him. He kissed her again.

"I'll leave you two youngsters to celebrate." Doctor Beasley winked and started for his car.

"What about the engine? Will Clemson help?"

Doctor Beasley waved without looking back. "We'll do more than that—"

"Doctor Beasley!" Eddie's tone was sharp and stopped Doctor Beasley in his tracks. "Sir."

"Not to worry, Edward."

"I have to. You and I can shake hands, kiss a pretty girl, but there are those who would stop at nothing to prevent—"

"Edward, those stories are—"

"Right on, sir." Eddie slid over the wall and walked over to Doctor Beasley. "You think my father being called a terrorist is a coincidence? I've witnessed arson, murder..."

Sarah started to get up, but changed her mind, Eddie was quite capable of convincing Doctor Beasley of the need for secrecy. What was it he said? 'Security through obscurity.' Could anything be more obscure than the barn? Sarah looked over at the smoldering remains of the go-cart, then up at the lingering black cloud and fumed. How dare he take such unnecessary risks? He might have been hurt. Then it came to her, she wasn't so much angry as frightened. She cared about him, cared a lot.

The sound of crunching gravel drew Sarah's attention. She looked up as Doctor Beasley's car pulled away. Eddie was staring off toward turn three.

"We've got company."

There were three kids on bicycles up against the fence outside of turn three. When Sarah looked back, Eddie was gone. Then she heard the van rumble to life. Eddie pulled up behind the go-cart and hopped out.

"Feel like helping me clean up the track?"

Sarah grabbed his hand and pulled him over to where she was sitting. "Why'd you kiss me?"

Eddie leaned over, wrapped his arm around her and yanked her up over the wall. "You gonna' help or not?"

"You one of those macho guys who can't express his feelings?"

"Feelings?" He pulled her into his arms again, but left her standing when she closed her eyes.

"You, you!"

"I've been called worse." He turned back. "Tell you what, you help me with this mess," he motioned to the debris scattered across the track, "then we'll deal with this." He motioned back and forth between them.

"What this?" Sarah imitated his hand gesture.

"Have it your way."

For the next twenty minutes they picked up pieces of the go-cart and put them in the van. It took both of them to push the carcass of the go-cart up the ramps and into the truck. Like Eddie, Sarah glanced occasionally toward the fence, but the kids were gone. Finally, they sat down on the bumper. Sarah's stomach was filled with butterflies, anxious and nervous at the same time. But as she waited with anticipation, Eddie's cell phone rang.

"You want to grab that?" Eddie said, tossing her the phone. "I gotta' take a leak."

"What am I, your answering service? Hello? Oh, hey Matt... yeah, it went great—well except the bone-head wrecked.... Party? I don't know, he went to the restroom." Sarah looked up and was shocked to see Eddie standing behind a trashcan only ten feet away.

"What? Guys piss on this can with a thousand people in the stands."

Sarah turned her head away. "Matt wants to know about a party—wait... he says 'toe gahhhh', whatever that means."

"Toga. Excellent. Tell him ten o'clock, we'll pickup the kegs." Eddie bounced on his toes and presumably pulled up his zipper.

"He says, fine, ten, we'll bring the kegs.... Okay, see you then." Sarah closed the phone. "You're starting at ten?"

"We've got a lot to celebrate, might as well start early."

"Early? God, I'm going to need a nap."

Eddie put his hand on the door and leaned toward her. "Ready?"

Sarah nodded.

"Great, let's go. After we drop this off, you can get your beauty sleep back at my place. Unless of course you prefer the picnic table."

"Very funny." Sarah tried to hide her disappointment, she'd expected him to tell her what he was feeling, at least kiss her again, but nothing.

On the way to the barn, they picked up five kegs and three hundred pounds of ice. The old van struggled, but they finally made it back to the barn. Caitlin called and talked to Sarah while Eddie iced down the kegs. They agreed Caitlin would stop by Eddie's later and pick Sarah up so they could do a little decorating while Eddie met with Doctor Beasley. Sarah was in the middle of the conversation when Eddie walked up, took the phone from her and closed it. He eyed her up and down as though he were undressing her.

"Stop it, that's vulgar."

"Really? You weren't doing the same?"

"I was not!"

"Something royal, let me see—blue, we'll go in blue."

"Blue?"

"Togas."

"You're serious. I thought that was just a movie thing."

"We can hit Walmart on the way to my place. Shall we?"

On the way, Eddie explained how their parties came off as impromptu, but took a lot of quick organizing. In the linens aisle, they found blue flats, choosing royal blue for Eddie and a pastel shade for Sarah. The store was quiet and Eddie seemed to let his guard down. They laughed, teased and had a wonderful time flirting with each other as they chose trinkets to accessorize their costumes. They stopped for a quick bite of lunch and finally pulled into the parking lot outside his apartment around two o'clock.

"You're going to have a blast tonight," Eddie said, tossing his keys on the counter. "A toga is a great way to let your hair down. You'll see." He went straight to the refrigerator and popped the top on a Dr. Pepper. "Guess I'll make a list of the things I need from Doctor Beasley while you grab that beauty sleep. You remember the bedroom?" He winked.

"Always with the jokes." Sarah flipped the shopping bag over her shoulder like a jacket and strutted through the doorway. Once inside the bedroom, she pushed the door closed with her hip then collapsed against the door with a sigh.

"You okay?" Eddie called from the kitchen. "You fall?"

"No!" Truth was, she was anything but okay, her heart was racing a mile a minute, her knees weak and her stomach was growling like she hadn't eaten in a week. She let the shopping bag roll off her shoulder and slip from her finger. The contents spilled at her feet. For a moment she stared blankly at them. Then, the inkling of an idea brought a twinkle to her eyes. All this talk of eye candy, maybe it was time to open the candy store.

* * *

_Damn,_ Eddie thought as he veered away from the bedroom door, _the computer's in there. Oh well._ He grabbed a pad and pencil from the kitchen drawer and sat down at the table. After staring at a blank page for several minutes, he sat back, frustrated. _Okay, sure she's hot, but come on, I almost crashed. What am I talking about, I did crash. What is it about her that's so damn distracting?_ It had been maybe fifteen minutes when he heard the bedroom door open behind him. "Can't sleep?"

"Something like that."

"Don't tell me." Eddie twisted around in his chair. "You want a bed—time—story?"

Sarah was standing in the doorway draped in a sky-blue sheet, posed like a Roman goddess. Above her head, one arm stretched out along the doorframe. When their eyes met, she sheepishly dipped her head, displaying the plastic sprig of lavender they'd bought to adorn her hair. A royal-blue curtain swag swept around her waste to a knot perched on her bare hip. The lose ends wound down her exposed leg, delicately bent at the knee. She looked up through dark eyelashes. "Is this right?"

Eddie stumbled to his feet almost knocking over the chair. He stepped toward her. She looked like a temptress, but her skin was pale, marbled by nerves, the same nervousness he felt. He stopped inches from her, afraid her touch would shatter his self control. "Of course tonight you'll want to wear something underneath."

"Of course."

"You know how Matt is, I couldn't guarantee—"

"I'm not looking for guarantees." Sarah's arm settled on his shoulder.

Eddie caught, then kissed the back of her hand. "You're trembling, what are you afraid of?"

"You." Since his approach she'd kept her face hidden behind her hair, but now she slowly looked up into his eyes.

Eddie caressed her cheek and slid his fingers through her hair. When his hand reached the nape of her neck, he pulled her lips to his. The kiss was short, yet challenged his restraint, and left them resting their foreheads against one another. "Why?" Eddie whispered.

"That you won't want me. That I've made a total fool of myself."

Eddie mouthed her nose. "How could anyone not want you?"

* * *

As their lips locked together, Sarah dropped her arm to his waist and the gathered material over her shoulder slipped to the crook of her arm. Pressed together, the hem clung to her breast, but as he relaxed his grip, she eased back letting it fall away. Eddie lowered his forehead to her shoulder, his excitement pressed against her hip. His hand was hot, his touch gentle as he caressed her breast.

"Are we just going to stand here?" Sarah whispered. She lowered her arm letting the toga peal down to the rope swag around her waist. Giving into passion, she dared to look up into his eyes as she unfastened his belt. His hand raked down across her bare back and traced the rope belt to the knot at her hip, momentarily stealing her breath. He mouthed her lips and slowly worked the knot loose. She trembled as the tousles inched up her leg. His muscular arm tightened around her waist, steadying her as the rope unwound to the floor taking her toga with it. In one firm but gentle motion, he swept her into his arms and carried her through the doorway.

Sarah spotted the bed and wrapped her arms around his neck, determined to take him with her, but felt the floor under her feet instead. His smile washed away her uncertainty. A broad hand found the small of her back, while the other tucked behind her neck. With the stance of an oak, he dipped her back like he'd done on the dance floor. Sarah ran her fingers through his hair and let her arms fan back over her head until her hands swept the floor. Her arched back, tightened her abdomen, accentuating her excited breath. Sarah went limp as his lips found her ear lobe then began nibbling their way to her breast. His hand at her back trembled, his breath was searing as he took her right nipple into his mouth. It was as though he struggled to hold her, but Sarah knew better. Again they kissed. Eddie rose so gradually, she had no idea until she was on her feet again. Sarah wrapped her arms around his neck and took hold of his shirt as he eased her back over the bed. In one fluid motion, she pulled his shirt over his head and lowered herself onto the bed.

"Care for some candy?" She whispered, tossing his shirt aside.

Sarah ran her fingers through his hair as he pressed between her legs and dipped his lips to kiss her ear. She took a deep breath, filling her senses with his masculine scent. He rocked to his left as his right hand enveloped her breast and brought the nipple to his lips. The cool clamminess in her extremities melted as her pulse quickened to match his. Eddie began to slide down her torso.

"Not so fast mister." Sarah grabbed his shoulders and pulled him back up over top of her. She ran her fingers through his curly, chest hair, down his sides, to his hips where she tucked them under his jeans. He quivered as she traced the waistband, her fingers meeting at the snap. It opened effortlessly and she brought her hands back to his chest. Eddie grinned as she drug her feet up his legs, then hooked her toes in his belt loops. Sarah knew by the heat in her cheeks she was blushing but said, "Feet, they're not just for walking anymore." She squeezed his hips between her feet and pushed his pants and boxers to the floor.

* * *

The cool air quickly brought Eddie's penis to an almost painful rigidity as it slapped off his abdomen. He snaked down, rubbing his chest against hers, then kissed her. From extended arms, he hovered over her with adoration. "You're beautiful."

"We're no longer window shopping." Sarah's hands traced his jaw to the back of his neck, then she pulled up and kissed him. "Now, where were you?"

Eddie sunk to his elbows, pressed her breasts together, kissed them, then nibbled his way to her bellybutton. He lingered, not to tease, but to rally restraint. He sank to his knees, her pubic hair brushing his chin, nearly pushing him past control. He blew a raspberry on her stomach to calm himself. His hands slid to her hips, and he dipped his tongue into her. He was one to close his eyes, but this time was different, he wanted to watch her, witness her excitement ebb and flow. Beyond her breasts, her head rolled from side-to-side with flared nostrils that fueled her heaving chest. His tongue danced, sending a quiver through her abdomen like a building ocean tide. He quickened his pace turning the quiver to a spasm. Sarah arched her back with a groan. Her arms slammed onto the quilt with a thud. She grabbed his wrists and pressed her pubic bone against him.

"Ah! Ah!" she gasped. A strong spasm shot through her abdomen, her back arched then she crashed on the bed with the thunder of a cresting wave.

Eddie suckled a surge of sweetness he'd never tasted. His penis throbbed. _Cold water! I need cold water_ , but when he stood, Sarah wrapped her legs around him, pinning him against the foot of the bed.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Eddie put his hands on his waist, flexed his chest and in his most macho voice replied, "My work here is done madam."

"Oh contraire."

Eddie pulled away and turned his back as she reached for him.

"Admit it, I'm too much for you."

"Really!" Eddie raced into the bathroom.

* * *

Sarah sat up when she heard the water. Now she'd done it, spoiled the moment trying to be witty. Was he really going to take a cold shower? Her breath became erratic, her nose congested, and fight as she might, she began to cry. Sarah looked around for her clothes, but as she slid to the edge of the bed, Eddie came out of the bathroom dripping wet.

"What's wrong?"

Sarah looked down to avoid eye contact and the embarrassment that came with tears.

"There's something about a crying nude that's—"

"Pathetic?"

"Humbling." Eddie knelt down in front of her. His hand appeared beneath her chin and raised her face to his. "I can be such a dumb-ass. No man should ever make a woman cry."

"I'm sorry." Sarah whispered.

"Oh yeah, you probably should be after the way we met and all." Eddie got up and sat next to her.

"I don't know, I thought you danced okay."

"Cute. No, I'm talking about the barn. People don't just forget things like that."

Sarah couldn't believe her ears. He was apologizing. This was a side of him she'd never seen and it made her want to jump him right then. "Of course I'm not really a Seminole, but..." Sarah rested her head in the crook of his neck and put her hand on his knee. She realized she was panting as she slid her hand slowly up his thigh.

"It's the engine, the meeting with Doctor Beasley." Eddie got up and stepped away.

"No." The word faded with disappointment. Sarah stared at his broad shoulders, narrow waist and tight buttocks, then wilted. She wanted him, wanted him now, but it wasn't going to happen. She was just a distraction, a break from the task at hand. Maybe it was just as well, it would have never worked anyway. She just had too much baggage. Eddie looked over his shoulder and spoke. She must have heard him, but a thunderous heartbeat was all she comprehended. "What did you say?"

"I'm in love with you."

Sarah flopped back on the bed. "I should have known, you're teasing again. I suppose the whole shower thing was just a rouge."

Eddie stepped to the edge of the bed and leaned over her. When she backed away, he crawled up on the bed.

"Why do you do that? Why'd you have to—you didn't have too, we could have just—" She pushed back into the pillows as he tried to kiss her. "Don't."

The problem with being a wise ass is people don't know when you're being sincere. I love you Sarah and I don't want to just do it, I want to make love to you."

"What about the cold shower?"

"Truth?"

"That'd be nice."

"Truth is, I was about to bust a nut."

"So you're saying, I am too much for you?"

"Guess we'll never—"

Sarah pressed her fingers across his lips. "Enough talking." Eddie was on his hands and knees, hovering over her, she glanced down and giggled, he was wearing a tiger striped condom. She ran her hand down his side, across his abdomen and then tried to press him against her, but he didn't move. Sarah put her other hand behind his neck, pulled up and kissed him. Still he hesitated. Finally, she lifted her hips until she felt his throbbing penis press against her. "Come on tiger." She whispered.

Eddie dabbed at her, entering her no further. He lowered his head, kissed her, then rested it on the pillow next to her. His panting whistled in her ear like the bellows of a blast furnace fueling a mighty ember.

Sarah could contain herself no longer, grabbed his buttocks and pulled him into her with a moan. She met each thrust with one of her own. She couldn't get enough air despite her gasping. He tried to kiss her, but she turned her head and panted. "No—I—I can't—" She pulled his head against her chest, then clawed at his sweat soaked back. Her motions became frantic. When she felt Eddie's muscles tighten, she wrapped her legs around his ankles, slammed against him and clenched. Eddie gasped, reared-up like a bronco and buried her in the comforter. He trembled, almost spasmodically, then sank down next to her, pulling her over on her side. Sarah threw her leg over him and they nibbled each other until they melted into the damp sheets.

Eddie finally parted a long kiss. "The bore and stroke were perfect, but—"

"I know what you mean, the duration—it seemed a little... premature. Maybe it needs another test."

"Premature, huh? What about that beauty sleep?"

"I can't think of anything more beautiful."

### Chapter 20

Once was incredible, twice magnificent, the third just plain insatiable. Sarah had no one to blame but herself, Eddie tried to fend her off in the shower—although she was sure he was pretending—but she wouldn't listen and now she felt like she'd spent the afternoon horseback riding.

Caitlin obviously noticed Sarah's damp hair when she arrived. The conversation between the three of them was normal stuff, but Sarah could tell Caitlin's radar was on full alert, but in her eagerness to get to the barn, she didn't press. It was just the two of them at the barn now and Sarah did her best to hide her discomfort.

Caitlin had a knack for decorating and an uncanny ability to make decorations out of almost anything. A few wooden planks and a colorful sheet, turned each engine into a table. A piece of junk from here, another from there, a little gold spray paint and they had centerpieces. They even cleaned and used hubcaps to hold the chips. Of course, Caitlin brought candles. Matt and Brandon showed up around nine o'clock and helped them string a few strands of clear Christmas lights from the rafters.

Caitlin hopped down from the ladder and glanced at her watch. "We better change."

"Where?" Sarah asked.

"We can hold a sheet up for each other."

"Dudes," Matt cut in, "I can totally hold it for you." He grabbed a sheet and peered over the top.

"What do you think Sarah, up for a little cabaret?" Caitlin turned back to Matt. "Like I don't think so." She yanked the sheet away from him and led Sarah over to the corner then yelled back. "You two go change in the shop."

Caitlin held up the sheet while Sarah stepped behind and changed. Unfortunately, Caitlin's tube top was too tight and Sarah's bra looked ridiculous under the costume, so she went without. Matt and Brandon let out a shrill wolf-whistle as she stepped out from behind the sheet.

"Knock it off you two, she's our guest."

"Nah," Matt said, "not any more, she's family."

The word 'family' struck Sarah, but she nipped her smile when Caitlin smirked. Caitlin was always so bubbly, her reaction was peculiar. Sarah took the sheet and Caitlin stepped behind it without a word. Maybe Sarah was just being self-conscious. _He said he loved me,_ Sarah thought. _What will Caitlin and Peter think? What about Josh? God, Eddie loves me!_

"Check this out!" Matt yelled. The Christmas lights in the rafters flickered a few times then there was a loud pop and all the lights went out. "Damn!"

"Matt!" Caitlin yelled from behind the curtain. "That's not funny. You better not—"

"It was an accident, honest. I think the engine seized."

"Like freakin' great." Caitlin said, stepping out from behind the sheet, adjusting her toga. "People should start getting here any minute. The candles aren't enough light—not even close." A pair of headlights panned across the wall and stopped just outside the door. There was a backfire, the headlights yellowed as the engine died, then the screech of a rusty door.

Sarah's smile could have illuminated the room, she knew that backfire anywhere. "Eddie!" She shouted. The door opened and in the glow from the headlights, Sarah caught a glimpse of Caitlin's sour expression.

"What'd you kill the lights for, think I was the Feds?"

"The generator's toast." Brandon said, coming out of the shop.

"Cheap rental crap, that's what, two now? I'll stop by the rental place tomorrow and—"

"Yeah, yeah," Caitlin groaned, "but what about tonight? The party?"

"Duuuuuude!" Matt drawled, flipping on a flashlight and shining it up his nostrils.

Caitlin shrieked and slapped him on the arm. "I told you to stay over there." Matt's light swooped around erratically as Caitlin gave chase. They stopped in the middle of the room and the light fell on Sarah as Eddie leaned forward to kiss her.

Sarah pulled back, imagining Caitlin's reaction and heard Matt say, 'Told you she was family.'

"Matt," Eddie called, "that inverter still under the bench?"

"There's nothing to connect it to."

"But we still have it?"

"Yeah."

"Give me a hand, I've got an idea." Eddie jogged over to Matt and they started toward the shop. "I had a little problem with the go-cart, but if we can patch the reservoir, we can use it as a generator."

"Ain't it DC?"

"Duh—the inverter?"

"Brilliant."

Sarah started down the runway of light that shown through the open door as Matt and Eddie disappeared into the shop. "He'll fix it." She said to Caitlin.

"Yeah, like he fixes everything."

There was obviously more to Caitlin's attitude than Sarah's imagination. "Is something wrong?"

"Brandon, help me light the candles." Caitlin said, ignoring her.

"I can help—"

"Like we've got it covered." Caitlin disappeared into the darkness.

One by one the candles came to life until the room flickered in a faint golden glow. Sarah walked up next to Brandon and Caitlin as Brandon touched his lighter to the last one. "It's romantic, don't you think?"

Caitlin turned to Brandon. "The last 'romantic' toga turned into like a freakin' orgy."

"No shit, I've never seen so many loose women."

Caitlin glanced at Sarah, then turned back to Brandon. "Didn't Sir Edward do like four of them?"

Brandon didn't answer and an awkward silence ensued. "Listen, I better go see what's keeping the guys." Brandon hastily, retreated to the shop.

Sarah's lip quivered, she was on the edge of tears, but Caitlin never looked back at her. Obviously, Caitlin had some idea of what happened at the apartment and didn't approve. Sarah felt trapped, she wasn't sure she could keep from crying, yet she didn't want Caitlin to see her cry either. Had she made a terrible mistake? Another car pulled up outside and Peter appeared in the doorway.

"Hey, you guys know Eddie left his lights on?"

Caitlin got up and started toward him. "The lights went out. He's in the back with Matt and Brandon trying to fix it."

Peter had no sooner gone in the back when another car pulled up out front starting a steady stream of guests. Caitlin's demeanor changed as she greeted everyone at the door. A cheer went up when the lights came on. Eddie, Matt, Brandon and Peter appeared at the shop door in their togas. They draped their arms over one another's shoulders and bowed.

"Let's tap the kegs!" Matt yelled, and the boys deserted their dates like they had the plague.

Sarah suddenly felt very out of place. These were college kids, true she wasn't much older, but she didn't belong here. She searched the growing crowd, but Eddie had vanished.

Most everyone was wearing white, but there were some colors and patterns mixed in. As the crowd around the kegs dissipated, Sarah noticed a plastic pretzel jar on the floor between two of the kegs. It was filled with keys in what Sarah presumed was a self imposed no drinking and driving rule. All at once, everyone started chanting Toga! Toga! Toga! Sloshing their plastic cups overhead. There was a loud static pop from the speakers in the rafters and then a country song blared. The kids started dancing where they stood, raising a faint cloud of red dust from the dirt floor. A few bars in, Sarah recognized the song as the one she and Eddie had danced to. Someone's hand gently traced her arm from shoulder to elbow and when she looked up from her seat at the table, Eddie was standing next to her.

"I believe this is our song." He said, offering her his hand.

Sarah fought back a smile. She wanted to jump into his arms, to dance, to laugh, to love, but she spotted Caitlin behind him on the dance floor. "I can't."

"Really?"

"Guess I should have taken that nap."

"You're tired? We're just getting started."

"Maybe the next one."

"Have it your way." Eddie disappeared into the crowd of boys gathered around the kegs.

_How could he be so insensitive?_ Sarah thought. _He didn't even try to find out what was bothering me. What am I doing here?_ Suddenly the bench creaked as Eddie sat down next to her and slid a cup of beer in front of her.

"I got you light, figured a pretty little thing like you would prefer it over fat beer."

"I thought—"

"Maybe the next one." Eddie offered his cup in a toast. As they talked, he started to put his arm around her, but she intercepted it. "What happened to the tube top?" he said, leaning to the side.

Sarah immediately clenched her arms to her sides.

"You better not let the boys see that, they'll be doggin' you all night."

"It didn't fit and I—oh!"

Eddie set his cup on the table and pushed Sarah up in front of him. He turned her to face him, then tucked the sheet in tightly under the rope swag. Pushing her out to arms length, he looked her up and down. "That's better. Can't have every Matt, Brandon and Peter checking out my girl."

'My girl,' caught Sarah by surprise, the words dissolving into the lyrics of an old song, 'my girl, talking 'bout my girl...' Sarah glanced around—no Caitlin—then pulled Eddie up from the table. "How about that dance?"

"I don't know." Eddie yawned. "I missed my nap."

Sarah wrapped her arms around him and they blended into the crowd, danced, drank and danced some more. The party was a rousing success. Eddie seemed to be able to drink without ill effect, but Sarah had to slow down after a few cups. By two o'clock, things were winding down. About a third of the kids had gone and the others were scattered about the barn in various states of consciousness, some still dancing like Sarah and Eddie, some sleeping, some—well flaunting their inebriated sexual bravado. Ah, the college years.

By three, the room was deserted except for Matt and several of his buddies drinking straight from one of the taps. Eddie and Sarah made a final sweep around the barn to pickup the last few empty cups that littered the floor.

"Damn, girl." Eddie crooned as Sarah bent over to retrieve the last cup. He tossed the trash bag aside and before she could react, swept her into his arms. "If you're going to put it out there—hell, I'm only human."

"Oh!" Sarah gasped as he yanked her against his side. She drew a deep breath as his hand slipped through the open side of her toga and up her sweat, soaked back. As he kissed her neck, Sarah rolled her head to the side. Her vision blurred for a moment, but when she blinked, Caitlin appeared out of nowhere. It was the first time she'd seen her since earlier in the evening, not intentionally, it just happened that way, but Sarah's uneasiness returned immediately.

"Nature calls." Sarah said, pulling out of Eddie's embrace. At the door, she glanced back. Caitlin was standing behind him, her eyes boring into him.

"Forget where it is?" Eddie called across the barn.

Sarah smirked and walked outside into the chilly predawn air. A squeaking noise drew her attention to an old car with fogged windows rocking from side-to-side. That brought a smile to her face. Next to it, another couple was passed out in the bed of an old pickup—feet dangling over the edge of the tailgate. A sudden shriek from the field sent Sarah's pulse racing. A naked girl sat up in the grass, threw her hands over her head, then fell back out of sight with a giggle. _Out doors might be nice,_ Sarah thought, _perhaps by a stream or maybe in the stream._

As she returned from the outhouse, walking along the side of the barn, she heard Eddie's voice. He sounded angry. Sarah stepped back and positioned herself so she could see through the slats.

"Aren't we bitchy." Eddie caught Caitlin's slap.

"Me? I'd be careful who I called a bitch. I saw you two tonight, like don't you think I figured out what went on at your place?" Caitlin yanked her arm out of Eddie's grip. "It's your fault, sure she's hot, but she's Dad's, right?"

"Don't go there."

"Go there? There's no place to go, remember? Mom's gone, the house, he might as well be gone—in hiding somewhere. Just like you to kick him when he's down."

"That pea you call a brain is making way too much out of—"

"So you didn't fuck Dad's girlfriend?" Caitlin wasn't quick enough to catch Eddie's slap, but she didn't cry, she just stood there, staring at him like she couldn't believe it.

Eddie turned away for a moment, but turned back. "I didn't mean to do that." He turned and stomped off.

Sarah backed away from the wall, her thoughts turning inward. Yesterday, she would have thought Eddie angry, but now, she knew better. He was hurt, and Sarah was the one who'd hurt him. Was Caitlin right, had she come between father and son? She thought she loved Josh, but there was no mistaking her feelings for Eddie, nor his for her. The morning air suddenly felt very cold. Her moist skin turned to goose flesh.

Eddie intercepted her just inside the door. "Ready to go?"

"Go?" Sarah peeled Eddie's arm from around her waist. "I have to go with Caitlin, my stuff's—" She looked past him toward Caitlin. "I'm still staying with you, right?"

"Sure." Caitlin's tone had an 'in your face' ring to it.

Eddie crudely adjusted himself. "Your loss." Without another word, he walked over to Matt and plopped down on the ground next to him.

"I thought you were going home." Matt said.

"Let me have a hit off that." Eddie took the tap from Matt and let the beer flow into his mouth.

* * *

The drive to Caitlin's dorm was quiet, but as they pulled into a parking space on campus, Sarah turned to Caitlin. "Do you think ill of me?"

"Oh God! Like don't heave in my car." Caitlin hopped out, ran around to Sarah's side and yanked open the door. "I just had it cleaned, Peter puked pepperoni—"

"No," Sarah laughed, "I'm not sick." She climbed out of the car. "I meant do you hate me?"

"Hate you?"

"I heard you and Eddie."

Caitlin's stare fell to the ground as she shook her head. "How much?"

"Enough to know you were arguing—I didn't mean to—I was coming back from the bathroom and it just happened."

"Come on, it's freezing, we'll talk inside."

Sarah had difficulty keeping up with Caitlin's brisk pace. It was as if she were trying to run away, or maybe she was purposely torturing her. Sarah was panting as they neared the top of the hill and the entrance to Caitlin's dorm.

"Oh my God." Caitlin said, looking back. "Like I'm doing it again. I'm sorry, I forget how fast I walk."

"That's okay," Sarah huffed, "it's good exercise, besides, you said you were cold."

"One of the downsides to this skinny little body—oh, I didn't mean to imply—"

"Why not, I'm a bitch, why not a fat bitch?" Sarah was stunned by the words that came out of her mouth. _Where'd that come from?_ She thought. To her surprise, Caitlin didn't respond.

They went inside and caught the elevator to the fifth floor. Caitlin unlocked the door and tossed her stuff under her bunk. "God, I'm freezing," she whined, rubbing her hands together.

Sarah was also cold, but not from the temperature. What was she thinking coming back with Caitlin knowing how she felt? Was she really stupid enough to think they could talk it out? And what was there to talk out anyway, Caitlin was right, she was a fat bitch who'd slept with her father and brother. Sarah glanced at her suitcase, then the door. Where could she go at this hour?

Caitlin peeled off her toga and tossed it on her bed. Her leotard left little to the imagination and her sculptured muscles were a testament to her dancing regimen. Caitlin rubbed her arms. "We need to talk, but not here, I'm freezing. Tell you what—you feel as disgusting as I do?"

"I guess."

"Perfect." Caitlin turned her back, peeled off her leotard, then wrapped herself in a towel. "The showers are across the hall, two doors down. Towels are right here." She patted the closet, then opened the door and was gone.

Sarah hesitated, feeling very awkward. This was just too weird. She knew how Caitlin felt, what was the point? Her suitcase beckoned, but Sarah undressed, wrapped herself in a towel and headed for the showers.

Sarah pushed through the door and was relieved to see stalls, she'd pictured an open shower area. Steam billowed from the last two stalls.

"Sarah?" Caitlin called from one of them.

"It's me."

"I turned on the end one for you. Be careful, it's hot."

Caitlin spit water at her as she passed. "I know this is kind of weird, but it's just us, besides, I can't think when I'm cold."

Sarah removed her towel, set it on the shelf and stepped into the shower. Although she wasn't particularly cold, the hot water was soothing. _Was that an apology?_ Maybe this wasn't as hopeless as she feared. Sarah tipped her head back and let the water cascade over her scalp.

"Okay, so like you probably think I'm terrible for sticking my nose in where it doesn't belong." Caitlin started.

"I don't think that. You're just trying to help." Sarah ducked back under the water and when she stepped out and opened her eyes, Caitlin was standing at the edge of the stall.

"So like can I ask you something?"

"Ask away." Sarah said, feeling extremely, awkward.

"Did you get that from Dad or Eddie?"

"Get what?"

"That." Caitlin was pointing toward her chest.

Sarah glanced down at the hickey on her right breast, then turned away without answering. When she looked up, Caitlin had returned to her stall.

"You don't know, do you? That's like so grose, how could you do both of them knowing—well knowing they were related?"

Sarah collapsed into the corner of the stall, trembling. There she was, stripped of all protection, naked, facing Caitlin's accusations. The water hid her tears.

"Okay, so don't get me wrong—I know you must think I'm like a total priss—but I just don't get girls that sleep around. Okay, so like I know enough who do, it's just—well, you're older—you're supposed to be—okay, like that's totally stupid."

Sarah tried to conceal her sobbing in the lingering silence. It was as if Caitlin was gathering her thoughts for another volley. Didn't she realize Sarah was already broken?

"I guess it was inevitable, Eddie can be quite the charmer. I saw it that first visit, even bet Peter. Don't know what I'm bitchin' about, I won the bet. Sarah? Are you listening?"

Sarah looked up as Caitlin peeked around the corner again.

"Oh my God!" Caitlin pulled Sarah to her feet. "You shouldn't sit on the floor, they're nasty. "You're crying. Why are you crying?" Caitlin leaned over and turned off the water. "Like holy crap, I was running my mouth again. I'm so sorry, I—"

"No, you're right, I'm dreadful." Sarah escaped to the sink to retrieve her towel and started to dry off.

Neither spoke as they dried their hair, or when they returned to Caitlin's room and got dressed for bed. They both lay there in the awkward silence, neither seeming to know what to say. The curtains took on a faint glow as the eastern sky began to brighten.

Sarah finally broke the silence. "I want to go home."

"Your flight's the day after tomorrow."

"No, I want to go now."

"Because of me?"

"No—yes—I don't know, I just want to go home."

"You can't run away from it, it'll follow you." Caitlin let out an audible huff. "Listen to me, like I know what I'm talking about."

Sarah stared at the wall. Josh was at home, Eddie here. Caitlin was right, there was no where to hide.

"Do you love both of them?"

"I can't, but I guess in different ways I do."

"Do they know that?" Caitlin's bed squeaked as she rolled over to look at Sarah. "Can I tell you something?"

"I guess."

"Dad and I are close, he used to talk to me and one thing I always noticed was how his face lit up when he talked about you. Since you've been here, I've seen the same sparkle in Eddie's eyes. I don't ever remember him acting like he does when you're around." Caitlin dropped back on her pillow. "Anyway, like I thought you should know that."

Sarah wiped her eyes. "Will you take me to the airport?"

Caitlin's bed squeaked again and the room was suddenly illuminated in a blue Microsoft glow. Sarah rolled over. Caitlin was at her computer. After a few minutes, she looked up. "There's a flight this evening at six fifty."

"Thank you," Sarah sighed.

"Sure." Caitlin climbed back into bed. "What do I tell Eddie?"

"Tell him I need to think."

"Will I see you again?"

"I don't know."

### Chapter 21

Caitlin's grip on the wheel tightened as she rounded the corner into the resident parking lot and spotted Eddie's car. Her mouth went dry; she couldn't swallow anticipating the dreaded face off. She delayed the inevitable by turning down the first row. "Maybe it wasn't him." But when she glanced in the rearview mirror, the car pulled in behind her. It was Eddie. The rainy drive from the airport had only worsened her temperament. Caitlin took a deep breath. "Okay, just be rational. He'll understand. Ah! Who am I kidding." She turned into a parking space and opened her door.

Eddie whipped in next to her and nearly clipped the door. Almost before the car stopped, he hopped out and glared over the roof. "Where the hell is she?"

She gulped. "I took her to the airport."

"Damn it Caitlin!" Eddie pounded the roof and it oil canned, splashing her with cold water. "Get in."

The rain picked up, but she didn't move.

Eddie rolled down the window. "You just going to stand there? Get in."

The combination of nerves and rain sent a chill through her, but she climbed in Eddie's car. Eddie backed out, spun the car around and headed toward her dorm. She wasn't sure if it was anger, he tended to drive that way anyway, but neither said a word on the short drive. She braced herself for the tongue lashing she knew was coming as they pulled to a stop out front.

"When are you ever going to learn—"

"It's what she wanted. You're not the only one who—"

"—to trust me." Eddie reached in the back and tossed her a towel. "You better dry off, you'll catch a damn cold."

Caitlin slumped down in the seat with a sigh. What was this, compassion? Not Eddie, not after what she said last night. "You making fun of me?"

"No." Eddie shut off the engine.

"Before you start in on me, I'm sorry about what I said and I certainly didn't want her to hear, but—"

"She heard? Damn it, Caitlin!"

"Okay, that's like enough with the 'damn it Caitlin's. I like her, I really do, it's just—"

"Not important."

"I should have known you'd just blow her off. Like so totally freakin' you. It's no wonder you can't stay in a relationship past sex. Always the conqueror, never the conquered, right?"

"Dad's gone into hiding."

"Hello? Like yeah, who doesn't know that?" Caitlin felt the blood drain out of her face when Eddie took her hand. There was obviously more to it. "What happened?"

"You remember that agent back home?"

"The creepy guy, how could I forget?"

"He's in Weymouth."

"What? That's impossible, you promised." She yanked her hand away. "It was all a lie wasn't it? You knew this could happen."

"Best we can figure they followed Sarah on her last trip."

"But she just left—"

"Exactly."

"You have to call him! Warn him to stay away."

"I tried, but no answer. I left—" Eddie's cell phone rang. "Hey Dad...yeah, as we speak..." He rotated the phone away from his mouth and spoke to Caitlin. "When'd she leave?"

"I don't know? I guess we left the mall around—"

"Her flight, what time was her flight?"

"Six thirty."

Eddie glanced down at his watch. "She's out of Greenville and depending on the layover should be arriving at anytime... yeah, she's right here, hold on." Eddie covered the mouthpiece and whispered, "Don't let him know you're scared. He needs to know we're okay, you know how protective he is." then handed Caitlin the phone.

"Hi Daddy... really, you liked it? It's just a study, but Sarah thought you'd like it... yeah, she's sweet... Eddie? I thought... but you used to... I thought... Daddy? Daddy you there?... Oh, I thought I lost you... Sure, this spring you can come down and see the whole exhibit... Okay, get some rest Daddy. I love you. Promise me you'll—Daddy? Daddy, you there?" Caitlin handed the phone back to Eddie. _Was it true?_ Caitlin thought. Did Josh really think Eddie and Sarah were right for each other all along, or was he just sacrificing for one of his kids like he'd always done?

"He sounded better." Eddie said as he slipped the phone back in his pocket.

"That was better? He sounded awful."

Eddie reached over and lifted her chin. "I'll take care of it."

"You can't fix everything, it doesn't work that way."

"Says who?"

Caitlin got out, but turned back before closing the door. Eddie had never dropped his guard like this, opened up to her, she smiled.

"What?"

"We spent the day together, went shopping, talked."

"Okay?"

"She's in love with you."

"That two timing whore."

"Don't you dare! I know how you feel, I saw—" Eddie started the engine and gunned it to the point she couldn't hear her own words. She slammed the door, but instead of driving off in a flurry of spinning tires, like she expected, the engine slowed and the electric window descended.

"You finished?"

"Humph." Caitlin crossed her arms in a huff waiting for one of his classic smart-assed comments.

Eddie held up his hand and started sticking up fingers. "You, Peter, Dad, Sarah, her sister, maybe Matt and Brandon, Doctor Beasley, everyone's depending on me. No matter how I feel about Sarah, or anyone else for that matter, it has to take a back seat. There just isn't time."

Caitlin took hold of the door and leaned in. "Sure, you're right, we all depend on you, but don't get caught up in that whole Smith self-sacrificing thing. You're important too, find a way, make time."

Eddie stared at her a moment, then the electric window started back up.

"Make time." Caitlin called after him as he drove away. "She's worth it."

* * *

Sarah pulled her suitcase off the belt then glanced down at her watch. _Ah! I should have thought about how I'm getting home before now. Guess a taxi. Hope I have enough money._ Sarah's footsteps echoed through the deserted Halifax airport concourse which was unusually quiet, even for a Sunday night.

"Will Miss Sarah Amirault please pickup a red courtesy phone." A woman's voice announced over the music playing on the intercom. "Miss Sarah Amirault, please pickup a red courtesy phone."

Sarah stopped at a bank of phones. _So much for slipping back into town unnoticed._ "Hello, this is Miss Amirault...thank you." Sarah's heart was racing. _Eddie must have called Josh, then Josh must have called Shelly,_ she thought. _He must hate me._ Even with good weather she knew it would take Shelly at least another half hour to get there. She grabbed the handle of her suitcase and continued on toward a small café across the concourse. The rhythmic clickety-clack of the wheels over the tiles was eerie, thunderous like her heartbeat. She paused at a mirrored panel and it was then she picked up the tail. "Amateur." She huffed. "If I can spot him, well—" She continued on to the café and took a seat at the counter.

"I'll just be a minute dear." The waitress said from behind the cash register.

"No problem." In the mirror behind the counter, Sarah saw the tail lingering at a nearby newsstand and recognized him. After last time, it wasn't a surprise, but did they really think Josh would come to the airport to pick her up? _Wait a minute, last time he did._ She could only hope Shelly had enough sense to leave him behind. _Josh?_ She thought, _what's in your head? Your heart?_

"What can I get you dear?"

"Do you have Dr. Pepper?"

"There, there, feeling a bit nauseous from your flight?"

"No," Sarah chuckled, "it's a kind of soda."

"Oh, well I'm afraid we only serve fountain drinks."

"Tell you what, can you put a little grenadine in a Coke?"

"Sure, that's one medium cherry coke, comin' right up."

Sarah noticed the tail approaching as the waitress set her soda on the counter. "Why don't you join me?" Sarah said, spinning around on the stool to confront him. The man kept going. "You could wait for me at home. That _is_ where I'm going." Sarah spun back to the puzzled waitress. "Stalkers, what's a girl to do?"

"Would you like me to call security?"

"He is security." Sarah paid for her drink and sat silently at the counter. Last time, in a similar situation, she'd been scared to death, but somehow she felt different this time as though she had some say in the outcome. Sarah took another sip and glanced over at the man who'd been following her. He quickly raised his newspaper. Her thoughts went back to her last trip and how terrified she'd been, but something had definitely changed. Right now, at this moment, she wasn't scared, she was annoyed. For the next half hour, she nursed her Coke.

"Excuse me miss, I'm looking for my sister, I wonder if—"

"Shelly!" Sarah said, glancing up in the mirror then spinning around on the stool.

"Are those jeans?" Shelly stepped back and looked her up and down. "I'm sorry, I have you confused with somebody else."

"Shell, it's me." Sarah hopped down off the stool and gave her a hug.

"I swear, you look like a college kid home for break."

"I do not." Sarah lowered her voice. "Caitlin and I went shopping."

"Company?"

"The guy in the booth—yes, I'm sure, he got on my flight in Boston."

"They didn't question you again?"

"No one ques—wait, is something wrong? Is Eddie's father—Josh, is Josh okay?"

Shelly's expression was enough for Sarah to know she caught the slip.

"Things have changed." Shelly whispered.

"Changed? What things? How?"

Shelly glanced toward the man in the booth. "We'll talk on the way."

Sarah followed Shelly to the van. The cold Canadian air felt bitter after her stint in South Carolina. It was no wonder geese migrated. She tossed her suitcase in the back, and then climbed in up front. "What things. Shell?"

Shelly backed out of the parking space without answering and drove to the gate. She paid the attendant and then headed toward Highway 103. As they turned toward Bridgewater, Sarah noticed her repeatedly glancing in the rearview mirror.

"Don't worry, I'm sure you can lose him."

"No, he needs to follow me—you back to Weymouth."

"We can't lead him to Josh."

"He's not in Weymouth."

"Of course he is," Sarah huffed, "I just talked to him."

"That must have been Friday."

"Yes, I remember we were getting ready to go to Pickens to demonstrate the engine when he called. Eddie was in the shower—" Again Shelly's icy expression stopped her. It was obvious there was something about Sarah mentioning Eddie that she didn't like. Even her little comment about Sarah wearing jeans, Sarah had worn jeans before, sure, maybe not as tight, but she'd worn them.

"Josh and Clifford are gone."

"Gone? Both of them? Gone where?"

"Late Saturday night, Marina—"

"Marina?"

"Are you going to let me talk?"

"Sorry."

"Late Saturday, Marina tipped us off that the police were on their way. The whole town had been keeping vigilance so Josh and Clifford could concentrate on the engine."

"Weymouth? Okay, I'll shut up."

"As I was saying, the police were on their way. We just barely had enough time to get everything packed away. I don't think they were gone five minutes before the police swept in. They searched your house, mine, even the boutique. Then they went to Clifford's shop and searched there. They closed him down Sarah, closed him down."

"Why?"

"I think they knew Josh had been there so they made up some code violation crap to punish Clifford. I was sure they were going to arrest all of us, but they backed off. Not sure why, but the bottom line is Clifford and Josh are on the run."

Sarah patted Shelly's arm. "I'm sure they're okay, the Smith men are very resourceful. Do you know where they are?"

Shelly looked over, her eyes filled with tears, and shook her head.

Sarah sat back and took a deep breath, it was beginning to unravel. If Eddie was right, the only way to get the hounds off Josh and Clifford was publicizing the engine, but they had to finish it first. "What about Eddie's parts?"

"The parts? Christ, Sarah! Clifford and Josh are in trouble and all you're worried about are Eddie's blessed parts?"

"It's not like that."

"Oh isn't it? I'm not oblivious."

"Shell," Sarah sighed, "I know if Clifford were here, he'd tell you the same thing. This engine is bigger than all of us and we have to do what's necessary to see that it makes a difference. Remember how you used to hate the smell of cars, trucks, the factory?"

"I still do."

"This engine can make that all go away, but if we let it fall into their hands, it will disappear, maybe forever. These people are ruthless. Eddie told me they murdered a man and burned down their house as a warning—a warning Shell. They'll stop at nothing, but we have to beat them for all our sakes." Sarah paused, but there was no reply. "I'm sorry this ever happened—"

"I'm not." Shelly interrupted. "Listen to you. You sound like that idealistic little high school girl who was going to change the world. I wouldn't change that for anything. What do we do?"

"Do you have a way of contacting them?"

"No, there wasn't time—" Shelly's phone rang. "Hello...she's right here." Shelly pushed the phone toward Sarah.

"Who is it?" Sarah said without taking the phone.

"Take it, it's for you."

Sarah took the phone and apprehensively held it to her ear. "...Eddie?... how... I should have told you but I had to talk to him in person... okay, I'll listen." Sarah didn't say another word for nearly a minute, then closed the phone and handed it back to Shelly. "There okay, Clifford and Josh. Eddie said they finished the parts, we just need to figure out a way to get them to him."

"How?" Shelly turned the corner past Clifford's machine shop and a bright yellow 'Crime Scene' poster plastered over the door.

"Take me home Shell."

"I thought we'd go to my place. I'm sure the police will still be waiting. I thought we could face them together."

"Take me home."

"Sure, I'll come in with you, it'd be perfectly natural—"

"No Shell, I need to do this alone."

* * *

Sarah had no sooner hung up her coat than there was a knock at the front door. Panic momentarily gripped her and she wished she hadn't sent Shelly straight home. She wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans, then tugged at the hem of her sweater. A deep breath and she stepped toward the door. The jolt was like being struck by lightening as Agent Corp appeared beyond the opening door.

"Good evening Miss Amirault, nice to see you again. These are Agents Wither and Mott. I have a few questions."

Sarah glanced over her shoulder at her suitcase. "Couldn't this wait, I just got home?"

"If you'd prefer, we could take this downtown." Corp winked. "Of course, I'd have to search you."

Sarah did her best to stifle the chill, but stepped back never the less. She rebounded by giving him the once over. "Trench coat, black suit, white shirt, black shoes, even a black tie, you are the classic dick, aren't you." Sarah mentally gave herself a check as Corp's jaw tensed. "Oh, all right, have it your way." She stepped aside and motioned Corp and his goons toward the living room.

Corp nodded at Agent Mott and he remained in the foyer as though Sarah might try to escape. Agent Wither followed Corp into the living room and they took a seat on the sofa. Sarah sat in the overstuffed chair opposite them.

Sarah broke the ensuing silence. "So, what's so damned important?"

Corp sneered. "You've been out of the country—"

"Yours or mine?" Sarah stymied a smile.

"I assure you Miss Amirault, this is no laughing matter. I have the authority to arrest you for harboring a terrorist."

"Don't you mean suspected terrorist?"

Corp's upper lip was trembling. She was obviously getting to him. She was mentally making another check when Corp abruptly stood.

"So it's going to be like that."

Even with the security of the other agents present, toying with Corp was like playing with a cobra. "Why don't you ask Agent Wither where I was? After all, he was on my flight."

Corp shot a glance at Wither, clenching his jaw even tighter. Sarah made another mental check in her column. Corp held out his hand and Wither handed him a folder from his briefcase.

"A book signing tour, I believe. Ah, here we are," he said, pulling out a page from the folder. "According to this, you have no published works. A book signing tour? I don't think so."

Sarah was beginning to feel she had the upper hand. Was this all he had? "You have to have a first, before you can have works, and these things take weeks, sometimes months of pre-release planning. But I don't suppose you're much of a reader, then are you?"

"Just other people's email." Corp glared at her. "I know you're hiding him, maybe even helping him, why don't you make it easier on everyone and tell me where he is?" When Sarah didn't reply, Corp turned his back on her and took something out of Agent Wither's briefcase. When he turned back around, he was holding a latex glove. "Perhaps a body cavity check might loosen you up."

Sara immediately jumped up and shouted, "Get out of my house!"

Corp did not recoil, but stared, inches from her face. "Interesting, have we graduated from spineless? You know it's just a matter of time, I always get my man."

"You're gay?"

Wither's covered his mouth to hide a smile as Corp's hand curled into a fist.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you've been around that asshole son of his."

"Get out!"

Neither Corp nor Wither moved.

Sarah grabbed the receiver off the phone and shook it at them. "Stop harassing me or I swear I'll call the police, the Canadian police."

Corp smiled, a devilish smile, and stuffed the glove in his coat pocket. A quick jerk of his head sent Wither and Mott to the car. Corp walked slowly to the open door, then turned back. "Quite a difference. Quite a difference, indeed." He stepped out on the porch and reached back for the doorknob. "I wouldn't plan anymore trips if I were you. Guantanamo can be quite intimidating for an attractive woman like yourself. Of course, I'm sure the current inmates would love to have you."

"Is that a threat?"

"Advice. Don't let me catch you on my turf again." Corp closed the door.

Sarah stood firm, almost rigid until she heard their car start, then sank back onto her favorite chair. The release brought a hint of tears. "So there, you bastard!" She shouted, waving her middle finger at the door, as they pulled away. "So there."

### Chapter 22

This will be difficult, Josh thought, I'm not good at pretence, but from the ring in Eddie's voice, she just needs a nudge. Jesus, I wish we could—just once more—you sick bastard. "How'd it go?" Josh asked from the doorway as Clifford hung up the phone.

"It took her a minute, but she got it. The whole free weekend getaway thing was a great idea." Clifford picked up his wallet from the nightstand and fanned through the bills.

"Something?"

"By next weekend, my savings will pretty much be shot." Clifford said, tossing the wallet back on the table. It was obvious the tense circumstances were beginning to take their toll. Clifford popped open a beer. "You're pretty good with your hands, what made you want to be a writer? Kind of a sissy profession, if you don't mind my sayin'?"

"Sarah."

Clifford choked. "Shelly's sister? I thought you were already a writer when—"

"I wrote, but wasn't really a writer." Clifford obviously didn't get it. "Listen, things are going to work out—we're the good guys, things always work out for the good guys, right?"

Clifford offered his beer in a mock toast. "Enjoy it while we can, I guess."

"Exactly, a whole mini-frig at your disposal. Well, if you'll excuse me." Josh stepped back into his room and closed the adjoining door. Sarah, he thought, I probably shouldn't have said that. Ah, but she'll be here at weeks end. He plopped down on the bed and pulled a pillow into his arms. When he saw her, he'd have to control his emotions, but for now, he could remember and fantasize.

* * *

The following Saturday, Sarah and Shelly waltzed up to the front desk where they discovered a suite reserved in their names, paid in full for the weekend by 'The Clifford Foundation'. The concierge rang the bellboy and they followed him into a waiting elevator. Sarah unconsciously moved back in the car as the doors closed. Josh was waiting upstairs.

"You okay?" Shelly whispered. "You seem apprehensive."

"Stop mothering me, I'm fine." Boy that was a lie. How could she face him, tell him how she felt about Eddie? If Shelly was right, he still loved her. _Is she right, Josh? Did you mislead me? Am I going to break your heart? I can't do that, not after everything we've been through. I love you, just not like—_ She shook her head slowly from side-to-side.

"You sure you're okay?"

The chime rang and the doors parted. Sarah didn't answer. They followed the bellboy to the far end of the hallway and waited until he opened the door. It was a spacious room, decorated a bit over the top, on the table, a fruit basket with a note from their benefactor. Sarah tipped the bellboy.

"What now?" Shelly said.

"We wait." They both jumped when the phone rang. Sarah picked it up. "...yes, we're alone." She'd no sooner set the receiver down, than the adjoining door opened.

"Fancy meeting you here," Clifford said, holding out his arms.

Not one to hide her emotions, Shelly jumped into his arms. "Oh my God," she managed between kisses, "its really you. You're in big trouble mister." Clifford stumbled back through the doorway and Shelly kicked the door closed.

"Hey stranger," Josh said, "aren't you a sight for sore eyes." His embrace was cautious, measured, almost as if he were afraid of her, or himself.

Sarah rested her head against his chest. He was a wonderful man, but the passion she once felt in his arms had been replaced with admiration. "You okay?"

"Yeah." His voice seemed to jar him back to reality. He released her and stepped back, his hands drifting down her arms until only their fingers touched. "I'm worried about Clifford, though. I think it's starting to get to him."

Sarah let one hand go, but slid the other into his palm and wrapped her fingers around his hand. "Can we talk?" She said, leading him over to the small table next to the bed.

"Sure, Clifford and I swept the room this morning."

"Not about the engine." They sat down opposite one another, the anxiety obvious.

"Can I offer you something to drink?" Josh opened the mini-frig. "It's part of the package. How about a beer?" Josh grinned.

"He didn't?"

"Didn't what?"

"He did, he told you about the party. Peter and Caitlin were there, heck there were probably a hundred people there."

"I understand you were quite a hit in your little 'peek-a-boob' costume."

Sarah could feel her face flush. "Jealous?" _God, what a stupid thing to say. Sure, tease him before you tell him, thanks but no thanks, I'm in love with your son._ "Seriously, it wasn't anything like that. It was just a little impromptu celebration for the successful test. We didn't—I mean I didn't—it was just a dance. I was thinking about using the scene in my current work in progress. I stayed at Caitlin's."

"Too bad."

She tried to keep her head up, but her gaze slowly fell to the table. This wasn't at all how she'd planned. Her words were quick, defensive, apologetic, nothing like she felt. For a moment it was as though she were a little girl talking to her father. Like in the elevator, she began to unconsciously shake her head. The next thing she knew, Josh's hand was on her shoulder and she rested her head against it.

"I still need you." Josh whispered.

"You do? But—"

Josh touched his finger to her lips. It was trembling. "I need you to go back to South Carolina."

"You finished the parts. But I can't—"

"You don't belong here."

Sarah turned and looked up at him. "Of course I do, this is my home."

Josh returned to his chair and sat down. The furrowed lines of worry etched in his face appeared deeper. "Of course it is. What I meant is you don't belong with me."

"What are you talking about? We—"

"Were—we were."

"But—"

"I'd just lost my wife, my life was in turmoil, it should have never happened."

"I don't believe you. What we shared was—"

"A mistake. It should have never happened."

"You're wrong Josh." Sarah reached across the table and took his hands. "It may not be what we first thought, but it was never a mistake, never."

"I'm sorry. You're right. Friends?"

"Forever, we share a bond I'll always cherish."

Josh took a water bottle out of the frig and took a long drink. "Here's the thing, the parts are in a truck downstairs, ready to go. Clifford and I turned a few propellers and mounted the cones like spinners. Clifford even came up with the idea to mark the crates, Property of the Royal Canadian Air Force."

"No, he didn't."

"Well, he thinks she did."

"How big a truck?"

"It's more an over grown van than a truck. Don't worry, I'm sure you can handle it."

Sarah glanced up at the adjoining door. "I should go now, before—"

The door opened and Shelly stepped into the room. "Before I can stop you?"

"You were listening?" Sarah got up and started toward her.

"I'm not Marina. Clifford told me what they were up to." They made eye contact. "You're not seriously considering—"

"I have to."

"It's a truck Sarah. You can't drive a truck."

"I drove Matt's truck, if I can drive that old rust bucket, I can drive anything."

Shelly looked to Josh and Clifford for support. "God Sarah, the drive alone this time of year is—"

"I'm not afraid."

"I am." Shelly looked back at Clifford and Josh. "I don't see I have much choice. Come on Clifford," she continued, "we'll leave them to the details. Just promise you'll say goodbye."

"I will."

Shelly took Clifford's hand and led him back through the doorway. The door silently closed. Sarah returned to the table as Josh pulled out a folder from under a stack of newspapers and opened it.

"I've highlighted the route." He oriented the map so Sarah could read it. "The first day is direct, main roads; but by the second, you'll need to move to back roads incase they start looking for you."

"Why not the first day?"

"They'll think you're still here enjoying your little weekend getaway. I ordered an in-room massage, meals, even a porn movie, Lesbian—"

"Porn?"

"I couldn't resist. Figured it'd distract them."

"Two sisters, ya think?"

Josh pulled out a three by five card with the word 'CASH' written in bold marker. "I want you to put this on the dash as a reminder. Pay for everything with cash. Plan your gas stops ahead and buy it in tiny mom and pop stations off the beaten path. Avoid rest areas. If you're tired, stop at a non-chain hotel and use cash. Got it?"

"Do you think they know about the parts?"

"I'm more worried about someone recognizing you—Ah! Maybe I should go. If I'm discovered, the engine can die with me."

"Don't talk like that, I couldn't bare it if—"

"You're right, maybe the stress is getting to me like Clifford. I'm sorry." Josh took her hands. "Ready?"

"Now?" Sarah's pulse quickened.

Josh glanced down at his watch. "There's coveralls in the bathroom, you've got just enough time to make the ferry."

"Right, the ferry." Sarah went into the bathroom and collapsed against the door. Amid the turmoil of emotions, Corps' words pounded in her temples, 'don't let me catch you on my turf'. She finally washed her face and slipped on the coveralls. For a moment, she stared at herself in the mirror. _It's a buoy, a place where two lost souls found their way, a time when two lives were one._ She smiled. _A glance that will pass between us, a glance of gratitude for what we have become. I'll always love you for that, Josh._

* * *

Josh clenched his eyelids together to fight off the deluge of emotion. I _did it—what a fool, I love her—they're in love, they belong together._ He looked toward the ceiling and tried to swallow. _I'm a wanted man—but I love her._ He grimaced and brushed away a tear before turning around as the door opened. "Ready?"

"Yeah." Sarah's voice seemed to waiver.

"You don't have to do this."

"Yes I do."

Josh took her hand and folded her fingers around the truck keys, then turned toward the adjoining door. Sarah grabbed his arm before he could knock.

"There's something you need to know."

Josh smiled and pulled her into his arms, hoping against hope that he might have been wrong. "I've been hoping—no praying for this." As he tightened his arms around her, he felt the tension in her muscles and rested his head on top of hers. He took a slow, deep breath of courage, then pushed her back to arms length. Her face was filled with panic. "What? You didn't think—"

"No, I just—" Sarah slumped and turned her back.

Josh put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. She looked up into his eyes, hers filled with tears. His thumb traced her cheekbone as he wiped away a tear. "Pocahontas has found her John Smith only his name is Eddie. It's perfect—you're perfect—the two of you are perfect."

She looked up and almost smiled.

"Promise me you'll let me walk you down the aisle." To hide his tears, Josh pulled her against his chest again. He held her tightly, savoring everything about her for the last time.

"He hasn't even—"

"I know my son. I know when he's happy and happiness rings in his voice. He will."

Josh fought back the tears as Sarah wrapped her arms around him.

"Thank you. I was just thinking how I owe this all to you."

"Nonsense, it was you who reached out. You two belong together."

"We do." Sarah gently hugged him.

"It's 'I do'. Remember that." Josh joked, despite the crushing finality of the embrace.

Suddenly the front door slammed against the privacy stop.

"Who's th—there?" Sarah gasped.

"I'm sorry, I'll come back later." The door closed.

"It must have been housekeeping."

"I doubt it." Josh said as Clifford opened the adjoining door. "We left strict instructions for no housekeeping and we haven't seen them all week."

Sarah glanced down at her coveralls, then at Clifford, dressed the same.

"Clifford will escort you to the truck." Josh said. "There's a thousand dollars in your back pocket, a change of clothes and some toiletries in a duffle behind the seat." Josh handed Sarah the folder. "Well, I guess this is it."

"I won't disappoint you, promise."

"Not a chance. Be safe."

"Come on then," Clifford said, "we've got a trash cart in the other room, we'll go out that way. Just a couple of janitors."

No one spoke as Clifford led Sarah into the other room. Shelly and Josh watched from the adjoining doorway. Clifford and Sarah looked back, Clifford opened the door and they were gone. Josh could here Clifford in the hallway using a thick Russian accent, playing his role.

"I show you dumpster before break."

Josh caught Shelly's eye as he turned to go back into his room. "She'll be fine." Shelly didn't reply, but lingered in the doorway. Josh grabbed the remote and sat down.

"You didn't tell her, did you?"

"I told her what she needed to hear. She's happy, that's all that matters."

"And you?"

"I'm tired." Josh flipped on the television. He didn't want to discuss it, but Shelly didn't seem to get the hint. The door from the other room opened and closed then Clifford appeared in the doorway next to her.

"Give the man some peace, Shell."

Josh laughed. "Perhaps you are the one who needs a piece?"

Shelly's face turned crimson.

"You two go on, I'm fine."

"You see," Clifford said, "he's fine." He pulled Shelly into the other room and the door closed.

Josh flipped off the television, then the lamp. Alone in the dark room, tears began to run down his face. It was the second time in the last four months that he felt totally alone, only this time, there was no one to turn to. He'd cared for his wife, even loved her at times and despite her infidelity, had always remained a steadfast companion, but Sarah brought him new life, new hope, and now, she too was gone. There was no denying it, he loved her with all his heart. It was now up to him to protect his friends, his children, his love from the dangers that still remained. For a moment, he closed his eyes.

Josh stirred and pushed back the curtain, nightfall had come. "Well," he whispered, "one more chapter." He got up, went to the bathroom and then put on his coat. As he bent over to retrieve his knapsack, the faint rhythmic sound of squeaking bed springs from the adjoining room caused him to smile. He nodded, thinking back to his night with Sarah, and whispered, "a night I'll take with me to my grave." After setting a note on the foot of the bed, he slung his duffle over his shoulder, opened the door, checked to make sure it was clear, and then stepped out into the hallway.

* * *

Shelly yawned and opened her eyes. She was sprawled naked across the foot of the bed. The room was dark except for a faint glow from behind her. "Clifford?" She patted the bed and looked toward the headboard, but no Clifford. A shadow appeared on the wall and Shelly suddenly realized the light was from the adjoining doorway. She rolled over, pulling the sheets up over her. "Clifford! For God's sake, what are you doing?"

Clifford was standing in the doorway wearing only his boxers. He held up a piece of hotel stationary. "He's gone."

"Josh?"

"He left a note, everything else is gone."

"He's gone after her." _I knew it._

"I don't think so." Clifford held up the note. "Says here, he's caused us enough trouble."

"That's ridiculous."

"Goes on to say, we shouldn't leave."

Shelly sat up. "He had this planned all along."

"Seems like it. What should we do?" Clifford walked over to the edge of the bed.

"Don't you see, we're trapped. If we leave, they'll realize Sarah isn't here. God! I hate being tricked." Shelly threw herself back on the bed.

Clifford removed his boxers and climbed in next to her. "He said if we let them find us in the hotel on Sunday, it should get me off the hook with the authorities." He folded his hands behind his head. "Guess we'll just have to lay here and be mad."

"You can't be serious."

Clifford rolled up on his side and ran his hand up between Shelly's legs.

* * *

Sarah glanced down at her watch as 'The Princess of Arcadia' pulled away from the Digby pier. It was six-thirty. _Right on schedule,_ she thought. The isolation of being onboard ship offered a momentary feeling of sanctuary. No more looking in the mirror until they reached the other side. The crossing to Saint John would take three hours and although she was reasonably certain she hadn't been followed, she decided not to go on deck until they were well out into the Bay of Fundy.

Half an hour passed before she felt safe enough to venture out. She'd changed clothes first chance, and now dressed in jeans and a jacket, looked like all the other tourists in the lounge. Sitting alone, next to a window, Sarah closed her eyes and whispered her itinerary, "Route 1 to Saint Stephen, cross the boarder to Calais and pick up Route 9 to Bangor, then 95 south, forever." A shadow distracted her and she opened her eyes, barely able to stifle a gasp.

"Quite a trip." An overweight, middle-aged man said, sitting down next to her. He flashed a plastic, salesman smile. "You alone? A business trip for me, but I decided to take the ferry and drive down the coast to take in some of the—"

"Excuse me." Sarah got up.

"Just trying to be friendly."

"I bet." Sarah walked briskly away. _God that was rude._ She thought about the cafeteria, but instead went out on deck. The salty air was brisk. She leaned against the railing and watched as Digby faded in the distance with an almost eerie finality. A flock of seagulls danced on the swirling wind, one occasionally swooping down over their churning wake. _Maybe he's following me._ Sarah looked around, but the man was no where to be seen. _I can't let every little thing get to me like that or I'll go crazy._ She turned around and let the sun warm her face. Josh had given her his blessings, but what now? Should she tell Eddie about that night? Could she? Would he understand? What if he didn't?

### Chapter 23

"Eddie! We've got company." Matt shouted, rolling out from under the Monte Carlo.

The arc stopped in a shower of sparks and with a jerk of his head, Eddie flipped back his welder's helmet. "You say something?"

"Company." Matt nodded toward the door as a silhouetted figure stepped into the entranceway. The coveralls said garbage-man, but the ponytail said otherwise, or did it?

"Hey guys."

"Dude," Matt started, "it's her—"

Eddie cut him off with a quick motion across his throat. "Jesus Matt, not another pit-whoopee, I could barely walk after the last one."

Matt choked back a laugh, got up off the creeper and draped his arm around Eddie's shoulders. "Who said this one's for you?"

"Right, you'd bust a pretty little thing like that."

"Yeah." Matt rubbed his hands together.

"Alright you two—"

"Both of us? Damn!"

When the boys burst out laughing, Sarah skipped down to where they were standing. "Very funny."

"Don't I know you?" Eddie said. He turned to Matt before Sarah could answer. "I told you no leftovers."

"Didn't your mother ever tell you some things are better the second time around?" Sarah leaned back on one hip and ran the full-length zipper on her coveralls up and down.

Matt knocked the welder's helmet down over Eddie's face. "Yeah, listen to mamma, wise ass."

Eddie pounced on Matt who stumbled back and fell over the creeper. The scuffle didn't last long before Matt had Eddie in a headlock.

"Looks like he's losing his touch." Sarah said. "Maybe he's not up to seconds."

"Just cause he's not—" Matt bobbed his heavy brow, let go and rolled over so that they were both on their backs.

Sarah stooped down between them and placed one hand on Matt's thigh. With the other, she pulled the crunchy out her ponytail, shook her head, and then grabbed Eddie's thigh. She had a devilish grin and whispered, "Fuck the Seminoles, they suck genitals?"

Eddie yanked Sarah down on top of him.

Sarah resisted, twisting her head to the side as he tried to kiss her. "Oh no you don't, I haven't brushed my teeth in God knows how long."

"Me either." Eddie gave her a long, wet kiss.

Matt pushed up on his elbows. "So what about the whole suck the genitals thing?"

"Matt!" Sarah shrieked.

"What? Can't blame a guy for trying."

Eddie stood, then pulled Sarah to her feet. "Any problems?"

"Nah, piece-a-cake."

Matt crawled to his feet. "So you got 'em?"

"They're outside in the truck." Sarah replied.

"Why don't you bring them in, Matt." Eddie said. "We'll get the door."

"Yeah, yeah, just make sure you do." Matt bobbed his brow again, then headed for the door.

"So, no trouble?" Eddie asked.

"Just a long trip."

"You look exhausted."

"That's what a girl wants to hear." Sarah shoved him. "You don't look so chipper yourself."

When Matt tooted the horn, they eased back the door and Matt drove inside. Once he was clear, they pushed the door closed. Matt pulled down to where they'd been working and swung around to the right. Sarah opened the rear doors as Matt climbed down out of the cab.

"Property of the Canadian Royal Air Force," Eddie read from one of the wooden crates.

"What's up with that?" Matt asked.

"They're propellers," Sarah replied.

"Propellers?" Matt took off his sweat-stained ball cap and scratched his head.

Eddie and Matt drug one of the crates out of the van. Once on the ground, they used screwdrivers like crowbars to pry off the top. Sarah peeled back the wood-wool packing to reveal the contents.

"She's right," Matt said, "they're propellers. Mind telling me why we're working on cars?"

"Matt, you serious?" Eddie laughed, slapping him on the back. "The spinners look familiar?"

"Ah dude, like they're decoys. Brilliant!" Matt squatted down next to the long slender crate and tugged on the spinner. "How do you get it off?"

Sarah slid her hand down Eddie's back and squeezed his butt. "How do you indeed?" she whispered.

"Flip it over, it's probably screwed on."

Sarah winked, but Eddie ignored her and bent down next to Matt. "What do you think, the Model A?"

"Dude, that's like so perfect."

Matt and Eddie pushed the Monte back with the other cars, then rolled out the Model A. Within a few minutes, they had the cowl and radiator shell off. Because of the limited space between the rails, they had located the electric motor in the rear. All they had to do was remove the engine casing and install the internals. They both crawled under the front of the car.

"Sarah?" Eddie called, "You up there?"

"Not that you'd notice." Sarah said, leaning over the top of the engine compartment.

"Where'd you go?"

"I was hot, so I stripped down and did a poll dance to cool off."

"Didn't know you were Polish. Learn something new every day. Mind dragging that hoist over? We'll loosen up the bolts, then you can yank it out." As he and Matt worked on the lower bolts, the squeak of heavy, cast-iron wheels approached. "Hey!" Eddie groaned as one of the wheels jabbed him in the ribs.

"Son of a bitch!" Matt yelled as his wrench slipped.

Eddie crawled out from under the car and attached the hoist to the engine without so much as a glance toward Sarah. Then, it was back under the car where he positioned himself so he could see between the frame rails. He glanced over at Matt and winked.

"Okay Sarah, you ready?"

"Yeah sure." Her response was less than enthusiastic.

"Look down here. Okay, grab that handle." Eddie pointed toward the bottle jack on the hoist.

"This little thingy?" Sarah reached for the pressure release lever.

"No, the longer one." He waited for Sarah to grab the handle. "That's it—so did you miss me?"

"Not really." Sarah started running her hand up and down the length of the handle.

Eddie ran his hand up the side of the engine casing where she could see it and slipped his finger in and out of a bolt hole. "Yeah, I know what you mean."

Sarah pulled down on the handle and the chain snapped taught.

Eddie groaned.

Sarah smiled and pushed the handle up for another stroke.

"You push that," Eddie said through a grimace, "you'll likely snap my finger right off."

"Oh my God! I'm sorry, what do I do?"

"Just twist the little one until the tension releases." He glanced over at Matt, they'd done this to Peter a few nights earlier.

"Jesus," Matt said, "my dad lost a finger just like that. You better be careful up there."

Eddie let out a scream as Sarah twisted the lever and the engine sank back on the motor-mounts. He rolled out from under the car, clutching his hand, his middle finger tucked into his other hand at the second knuckle.

"Holy crap!" Matt yelled and tossed a rubber finger from his pocket out on the floor.

Sarah screamed, but the boys couldn't hold it any longer and burst out laughing. "That's not funny." She kicked the red, clay at them. "You shouldn't tease about things like that."

"Things like what?" Eddie grinned. "Why don't we give this another try. This time maybe you can concentrate on the task at hand."

"Me?" Sarah huffed as the boys disappeared back under the car.

"Okay, ready to give it a try?" Eddie called up between the frame rails.

Sarah pulled cautiously down on the handle. Nothing had happened by the third pump.

"It might take a few pumps—"

"They always do." Sarah moaned and squeezed her knees together as she pulled down again. This time the chain tightened.

"You might want to slap it a few times, gets things moving a little faster."

"Says you." Sarah pulled down again, popping the engine loose from the mounts.

"Easy girl, too quick and we'll have a mess on our hands."

Matt adjusted himself and apparently Sarah saw him. She let out a sigh as she pulled down on the handle. "Jesus!" Matt whined. "I'm going to bust my freakin' pecker on the bottom of this damn car if you don't knock that shit off."

"Mine's off," Eddie said, looking over at Matt. "Yours?"

"Oh yeah, mines off alright."

"Taker her up Sarah."

Eddie and Matt rolled out from under the car as Sarah hoisted the engine above the fenders. Once clear, Eddie and Matt drug the hoist away from the car, then lowered the engine onto one of their homemade stands.

"I'll grab the cone." Matt said.

"There are three half-inch screws on the back." Eddie called after him.

"Yeah, yeah, keep your pants on." Matt stopped and turned around. "That doesn't go for you Sarah, feel free."

"You wish." As Matt disappeared behind the truck, Sarah leaned over the fender toward Eddie. Her breasts pushed forward exposing the edge of a pink lace bra.

The two of them just sat there, Eddie obviously staring. Finally he said, "That part of the uniform?"

"Get a room," Matt said as he walked up next to them carrying the cone.

Eddie helped Matt with the cone and together they eased it into the housing. It fit like a glove. Matt attached the backing-plate and once it was secure, Eddie meticulously torqued each bolt. When he was satisfied, he stepped back. "That ought to do it. All we have to do is put it back in the car, hook up the plumbing and—"

"No way, dude, I'm beat." Matt wiped a rag across his face leaving a greasy streak. "I gotta crash. Later." He staggered across the room and disappeared into the shop.

"We put a couple of cots in there; we've pulled some long nights. Looks like it's just you and me kid," Eddie said through a yawn.

Sarah took his hand and pulled him toward the rear of the truck. Once there, she tossed an old blanket over the packing material scattered across the floor.

Eddie grinned. "Okay, so I know you're one hot chicky in that little pink number you've got stashed under there, but I've got a deadline—"

"We have a deadline." Sarah interrupted. He offered no resistance as she eased them down onto the blanket. Once settled, Sarah snuggled up against him and draped his arm around her waist.

"That's what I'm talking about." Eddie said.

"Sleep, mister, sleep." Sarah kissed his other hand and then caressed it against her chest.

Within minutes, Eddie's breathing slowed and what had been an embrace, became nothing more than a limp appendage. Sarah was also exhausted and felt her eyelids droop as she stared at the steaks of mid-day sun flickering through the wall-slats. Not even the wood-wool's fresh pine aroma could mask the musty blanket and damp floor. It occurred to her how ironic it was that an invention of such magnitude would come from such a humble place. Matt snorted in the other room, momentarily distracting her. As she let her eyes drift close, she thought of her father. What would he think? Would she still be the family embarrassment—the sinner? Would he forgive her? "I'm with the man I love, Daddy." She whispered, "The man I love."

Sarah was awakened a short time later by an irritating buzzing. "Eddie?" She twisted to look up at him and realized it was his cell phone. He obviously wasn't going to answer it, so Sarah slipped it out of his pocket. "Hello?.. Josh, how are you?" Sarah glanced at Eddie, but he was sound asleep. "Then the guy never came back. That's good, right?... I'm so relieved, I was worried about you. What's all that noise? Where are you?.. Why won't you tell me?" She could tell Josh was being evasive. "He's right here, but he's asleep... Okay, I'll tell him. Josh, I left in such a rush I didn't get a chance to, well, to thank—Josh? Josh, you there?" Sarah closed the phone and set it down on the blanket, hoping he might call back. She felt a twinge of guilt laying so peacefully in Eddie's arms while Josh was still on the run.

"Was that Dad?" Eddie mumbled.

"Yeah, he called to make sure I was here, but—"

"That's good."

Sarah pulled his arm tighter around her. "He said he was okay with us."

"Us?"

Sarah rolled over and pushed a lock of Eddie's hair back. His eyes were still closed and she couldn't be sure he wasn't talking in his sleep.

"Then you'll stay when this is all over?"

She smiled without answering and gently caressed his cheek.

"Go back to sleep." Eddie pulled her closer and nuzzled his chin against the top of her head. They fell asleep in each other's arms. In a few short hours, they would be back at it.

* * *

Peter showed up around two-thirty, Brandon a short time later. They paired up to assemble the engines, Matt and Peter, Eddie and Brandon, leaving Sarah feeling a bit like, 'odd man out', but she found plenty to do fetching tools for the boys. One by one the crates were unloaded, spinners removed, then the propellers repacked and the crates returned to the truck. Sarah wasn't really sure why, but Eddie wasn't one to leave anything to chance.

Caitlin arrived with pizza around suppertime, so they took a break. There was no beer this time, supper was all business. As the boys headed back to their tasks, Sarah grabbed her journal from the truck and sat down to scribble some notes.

"What ja writin'?" Caitlin asked, returning from taking out the garbage.

"Oh, I've just been jotting down some notes."

"Let me guess, a book about this."

"What do you think?"

"Probably be a best seller." Caitlin reached down and pulled a sketch pad out of her backpack. "I've been working on some sketches."

"Really."

Caitlin flipped through a series of sketches of the boys working and finally stopped at a more complete picture. "Eddie said he wanted to use this one for the cover of his thesis presentation."

"It's an excellent choice," Sarah said, orienting the pad to get a better perspective. "It combines the complexity and simplicity of the project. How perfect."

"Eddie said you were a big help today."

"I'm afraid I'm no mechanic."

"I know what you mean, but hey, we tried."

"Son of a bitch!" Matt yelled over the crash of metal. "Jesus, Pete!"

Caitlin laughed. "Of course, I think we're at least as mechanical as Peter."

"That's horrible—"

"Ladies!" Eddie yelled, "They aren't going to build themselves."

The girls looked at each other and laughed. "Well," Caitlin said, "back at it."

Matt and Peter were doing most of the heavy work. Brandon followed with primary connections and torque verifications. Caitlin and Sarah were next with wiring and Eddie checked over everything before they moved on. They finished the Ford, Chevy, and as Caitlin and Sarah rechecked their connections on the BMW, Eddie called them over to the Ford where he and Matt had just finished topping it off with cooking oil.

"Huddle-up," Eddie said, glancing down at his watch. "It's freakin' midnight and I know most of you have class tomorrow; but before we knock off for the night, I thought we should take a minute to savor what we've accomplished." He nodded toward the engine nestled under the hood of the Model A. "Dare we let Peter do the honors?"

Everyone laughed.

Matt pushed Peter forward and Eddie opened the door. "Go ahead, fire her up."

Peter climbed in behind the wheel and turned the key to the on position.

"No sparks," Eddie said, nodding toward Sarah and Caitlin. "So far so good. Turn on the pump."

Peter flipped the switch on the dash marked pump starting a faint whir in the engine compartment.

Eddie looked under the hood and flashed a thumbs up. "No leaks, you and Matt are off the hook. Looks like it's on us Brandon. Okay Peter, turn the main switch to the run position."

Peter checked to make sure it was in neutral and then flipped the switch to the run position. The engine responded, building to a more substantial RPM.

"Okay," Eddie encouraged, "that's it. Okay, kill the pump."

Peter complied and they all held their collective breath. The RPM began to decline. Anxiety turned to spontaneous cheers as the engine speed settled at around twenty-five hundred RPM. Peter hopped out of the car and after shaking his fist above his head, offered his hand to Eddie.

Eddie grabbed him and pulled him into an embrace. "We did it man. We actually did it."

Peter squirmed free. "Never any doubt. Never."

Sarah and Caitlin grabbed them in an embrace squealing with delight. Matt and Brandon joined the circle. Matt started a chant that echoed through the barn like a football huddle before the big game.

"Dudes! Dudes!" Matt yelled over the ruckus, "We should take her out. You know, on her maiden voyage. We got the door."

While Brandon followed Matt to the door, Eddie motioned for Peter to get in behind the wheel.

"No way, this is all yours."

"Thanks."

Peter killed the lights and jumped in the back as Matt and Brandon opened the door. Sarah and Caitlin squeezed in the front seat. Eddie slipped it into gear and eased down on the accelerator. At first, nothing happened, but they finally started to creep forward.

"Not like you to go easy." Peter said.

"Lot of people are counting on this working, don't want to screw it up in a moment of haste."

Once they were outside, Matt and Brandon closed the doors and climbed in the back with Peter. Eddie flipped on the lights. They were dimmer than expected.

"We need to check that voltage." Eddie said, twisting around toward Matt.

"Dude," Matt groaned, "hit it!"

Eddie pushed the accelerator halfway to the floor. They quickly accelerated to thirty miles an hour. The old Model A skated through the ruts on the dirt road, but once they made it to the pavement, everything smoothed out. Eddie pressed the pedal and they were at sixty. Outside of an occasional surge, the ride was smooth and most notably, whisper-quiet, the engine buzzing like a baritone, beehive. Matt and Peter leaned out the back windows and shouted with jubilation. Halfway to Anderson, Eddie made a u-turn and headed back. The test was short, sweet, and most importantly successful.

They were all too excited to quit when they got back, so they spent another hour getting the Chevy and BMW started. Finally Eddie broke up the party and sent everyone home. Peter and Caitlin were the last to leave.

"You want to room in with me?" Caitlin said to Sarah with a wink.

"I think we'll hang here." Eddie replied.

"Guard your babies?" Peter joked.

" _Our_ babies bro, would've never happened without those numbers rattling around in that brain of yours."

"Right. See you tomorrow then." Peter led Caitlin to the door.

"Make sure it's after class," Eddie called after them. "That goes for you too, Caitlin."

The door closed, the cars started and the gravel crunching under tires faded into the night.

"Well," Eddie said looking down at Sarah, "guess we better hit the hay."

"Sleep? I don't think so, mister." Sarah pressed forward, pulling Eddie's shirttail out of his pants.

"What happened to 'dirty, smelly' and all that?" Eddie teased.

"I don't care."

"I can see that." Eddie said, letting her yank his shirt over his head. He pretended to retreat in fear until he backed into the rear bumper of the van. "Oh my God, I'm trapped."

Sarah pushed him back until he flopped back on the floor of the van. The zipper on the front of her coveralls raced to her naval. She peeled them off her shoulders and let them drop around her ankles. Her left arm bent awkwardly behind her and the pink lace bra suddenly went limp. She pinched it to her sides with her elbows and looked up at Eddie with a grin.

"Who are you and what have you done with my sweet innocent girlfriend?"

"You uncorked the Jeannie. Deal with it."

"A Jeannie, huh, then we're talking three wishes?"

"Three?" Sarah shook her head and pushed him back. "I'm going to grant all your wishes."

Sarah undid his belt and slowly, sensuously slid off his pants. His underwear was next. Before he could say anything, she went down on him, bringing him to the edge of an orgasm.

"That's one." Eddie said as Sarah stepped out of her coveralls and climbed up on the bumper, straddling him.

Sarah let her bra slip from under her arms, across Eddie's chest. As he tossed it aside, she began to run her finger under the elastic of her panties. Slowly, rocking her hips from side-to-side, she worked them to her knees. "What are you grinning at?" She lifted one leg, planting her foot in the middle of his chest. In doing so, her panties fell to the other ankle. She straddled him, one foot in each of his armpits, and slowly weaved her hips through the air until she was sitting on his chest.

Eddie grasped her buttocks and pulled her toward his mouth. She fell back against his knees, panting as he mouthed her. He stopped. "That's two." He crept forward until his penis pressed between her buttocks.

"Ou!" Sarah squeaked and hopped up nearly hitting her head on the roof of the van. "Sorry love, gotta' pee."

Eddie pushed up on his elbows. "That's not on the list."

"Cute." Sarah wrapped herself in the blanket and jumped down from the truck. "I'll only be a minute."

"It's around—"

"I know where it is." She winked. "Don't go away." She tiptoed across the dirt floor like a church mouse as though she needed to be quiet.

* * *

A beam of sunshine flitting across Eddie's face woke him the next morning. He opened his eyes, surprised to see the bars of sun filtering through the heavy, humid air. He glanced down. Sarah was draped around him, partially covered by the blanket. "Hey sleepy head." Eddie groaned. "My breath could knock a buzzard off a shit wagon."

"Hey," Sarah said, opening her eyes.

"Did we—"

"You were asleep when I got back."

"Must have been some leak."

Sarah smirked. "Guess you weren't up to the job."

"Oh really." Eddie put his arm behind his head, but quickly put it down when he caught a whiff. "Tell you what, we look like what, a couple of pigs?" Why don't we grab some breakfast on the way to my place, then we can shower and take care of that number three."

"Take care of?"

"That's not what I meant."

Sarah threw back the blanket and stood. "Like, whatever."

"Jesus, you sound like Caitlin."

Sarah hopped down and started to get dressed. "Well, you just going to lay there? I'm famished."

As they were getting dressed, Eddie's phone rang. "Good morning, Dr. Beasley... yes, everything went perfect, we're right on schedule... problem? What problem?... his name wasn't Corp by any chance?"

Sarah tensed at the mention of Corp's name. How could he have found them? Had he followed her? Josh had sounded so worried, like he was afraid Corp was closing in, but how could Corp be here if Josh thought he was there?

"He mentioned her by name?... I see... Our usual place, say two hours... see you then... No, no need, I'll handle it." Eddie flipped the phone closed and forced a smile. "Guess we'll have to put number three on hold."

### Chapter 24

Eddie crossed Rt. 123 and turned left onto Chapman Hill Road. He felt bad leaving Sarah alone at the barn, but if he ran into Corp, it would be better if she wasn't with him. Sure enough, as he turned into his apartment complex, two black cars pulled out of the front parking lot and fell in behind him. He had half a notion to drive past his apartment and head down the path through the woods where they went four wheeling, just to see what they'd do. Instead, he turned into a parking space. As he got out, the cars screeched to a stop on either side of him. He didn't acknowledge them, popped the trunk and went to the back of his car. A hand stopped the trunk from opening. Eddie looked up. "You again. I'd hoped I'd seen the last of you." He tried to force the trunk open. "Oh, let me guess, you think I have a can of kerosene and I'm going to torch the place?" Eddie yanked open the trunk. "That's more your style, don't you think?"

"Been fishing?" Corp's tone was more an accusation than a question.

Eddie pulled his fishing rod and tackle box out of the trunk. "No, hunting."

"Still a wise ass."

Eddie slammed the trunk and leaned back against the car. "So what brings you south, slumming?"

"A missing person case actually, thought you could help."

"Help? You? In your dreams."

"A Canadian actually."

"Let me guess, the geese fly south, so you figured—"

"Listen, wise ass." Corp's eyes followed Eddie's glance toward the street behind him. He turned as a truck rolled off the main road into the parking lot. "Rather salty for South Carolina, wouldn't you say?"

Eddie tried to hide his anxiety. "We do have a coastline." Corp looked clueless. "You know, the beach? Salt?" Eddie found himself unknowingly clenching his jaw as the truck came to a stop behind his car. The driver's door swung open and Sarah hopped down.

"Eddie!" She exclaimed, throwing open her arms. "Longtime no see."

Eddie pushed past Corp before he reacted and took Sarah in his arms. "What the hell are you doing?" he whispered.

Corp had that cat who caught the mouse look and said, "The very 'beach' I was looking for. Arrest her."

Eddie blocked the agents path.

"You interfere, I'll take you both."

"For what, dick head?" Anger rang in Eddie's voice.

Corp pulled his gun. "I really hate the paperwork, but it doesn't matter to me, dead or alive."

Sarah squeezed out of Eddie's arms and stepped between him and Corp. "What's this all about?"

"You're suspected of smuggling illegal material into the country."

"Thought you said she was missing." Eddie grumbled as he stepped up next to Sarah. "You making this up as you go, asshole?" He caught Corp's right hook, but a sucker punch to the kidney doubled him over.

Sarah let out a yelp as Corp grabbed her wrist and slammed her against the trunk of Eddie's car, but when Eddie started toward him, he met the barrel of one of the agent's gun.

Corp grinned, "Like I said 'asshole' it doesn't matter to me."

The gun wielding agent backed Eddie away as Corp handcuffed Sarah's hands behind her back. He pushed Sarah past Eddie, toward the back of the truck, and the two agents positioned themselves between them. The way the truck was situated, Eddie could still see Sarah.

"Open it." Corp said to Sarah.

Sarah twisted her handcuffed arms toward him. "You'll have to do the honors, it's unlocked."

"Get this opened." Corp yelled at one of the agents. As the agent stepped behind the truck, Corp addressed the one holding the gun on Eddie. "If he moves, shoot him."

"I don't know," Eddie said nodding toward a small group of people who had gathered, "awful lot of witnesses."

The rollback rumbled open. Corp took a step back, holding Sarah in front of him like a shield.

"Says property of the Canadian Royal Air Force," the agent said.

"They're propellers," Sarah said. "I have the paperwork in the cab. The Royal Air Force is performing at the Greenville Airport."

"And you just happen to be heading this way?" Corp ventured.

"Oh no, they're paying me a dollar a mile plus expenses. Hard to pass that up."

"Propellers, huh. You won't mind if I have a look for myself." Corp looked toward the agent at the back of the truck. "There's a crowbar in the trunk."

Eddie stifled a grin as the agent went for the crowbar. Sarah was really holding her own. He was angry she hadn't stayed put, but her new found confidence was certainly something, and he liked what he saw. The screech of nails being pried out of wood snapped Eddie back to the moment. Corp stepped toward the back of the truck, but Eddie was unable to hear his exchange with the agent. The agent hopped down and the rollback slammed closed.

"Told you." Sarah said.

"Where is he?" Corp demanded, shaking Sarah by the arm.

"Who?"

"That's it. I've had it with you, now we'll do it my way." Corp turned toward the agents. "Take the truck to the impound lot and go over it with a fine tooth comb. I'll take little miss wise ass down for questioning."

"Oh no you won't." Eddie started forward, but as he closed, Corp drew a taser from one of the agent's pockets. Eddie managed to get his arm up, but the jolt still knocked him to the ground. Dazed and struggling for breath, he helplessly watched Corp throw Sarah in the back of his car and speed off after the truck.

"Damn boy," a man missing his front teeth said kneeling down next to Eddie, "you okay? I got hit with one of them damn things at a bar once, hurt like hell."

"Tell me about it."

"Well," the man began, "me an ol' Patch—that ain't his real name, but everyone calls him it—so we was..."

Eddie got to his feet and took stock. Except for the numb right arm, everything else seemed alright. "Listen, I don't mean to be rude, but—"

"It weren't much of a story anyway." The man looked toward the street. "I'll put your stuff on the porch. You better git if you're going to catch 'em."

"Thanks."

"No problem, now git."

Shifting was a bit of a trick with one arm, but by the time he reached Rt. 123 Eddie could see Corp's car. He backed off and followed at a distance reminding himself Corp was the law. It was obvious from Corp's actions, he didn't know his father's whereabouts. At least with Corp here, his dad was safe.

"Damn!" Eddie pounded the steering wheel and down shifted as the light up ahead turned yellow. The police car at the intersection gave him little choice. The panic in Dr. Beasley's voice was well founded. Corp posed a considerable threat to their presentation. "What the hell?" Eddie's attention was drawn to Corp's car as it pulled off at the Easley Days Inn.

* * *

Sarah was beginning to panic. She'd seen that look before and it was obvious that Corp's repeated glances in the mirror were meant to torment her. The whole 'woman to the rescue' was stupid, she should have done what Eddie said and stayed put. Panic turned to terror as Corp pulled around the back of a local hotel.

"Thought we'd do a little one-on-one if you know what I mean." Corp got out of the car and opened the back door. "Besides, I liked what I saw in Boston."

Sarah slid to the opposite side of the car. "I want a lawyer."

Corp stuck his thumbs in his front belt loops. "I think I'll be more than enough for you."

"I swear, I'll scream." Sarah kicked his hand away as he reached for her.

Corp grabbed her leg and drug her across the seat, pinning her throat against the vinyl seat cover. "You make a sound and you're dead."

Sarah gasped for air as he released her and yanked her to her feet.

"Inside." Corp opened the door to room 145 and pushed her inside. The door slammed with a frightening finality.

Corp threw her on the bed and took off his jacket. "So tell me, are you getting _dicked_ by both of them?"

Sarah pushed back against the headboard. "If you touch me—"

"Don't get me wrong, you're attractive enough, but you can't be that good?" Corp took off his holster and draped it over his jacket. "Well, don't just sit there."

Sarah rolled to the side displaying her handcuffs. "Sorry, guess it'll have to wait."

Corp suddenly grabbed her leg and pulled her to the edge of the bed. She struggled until Corp's punch took her breath. As she doubled up, he flipped her over on her stomach. Her gasps turned to sobs.

In one quick motion, he yanked her jeans and underpants over her hips and pressed them to her knees. Sarah squirmed, but Corp planted a foot on the wad of material between her legs and pinned it to the floor.

Sarah bit her lip as he slapped her buttocks then forced his knee between her clenched legs. He slapped her again and again before suddenly grasping her cheeks and spreading them.

"Not bad, not bad at all."

Sarah yelped as the door suddenly burst open showering her with splintered wood.

"Freeze, asshole!"

When Corp moved back, Sarah balled up pulling the bed cover over her. She looked up and saw Eddie holding his nine millimeter aimed at Corp's forehead.

"You!" Corp clenched his fists.

"Go ahead," Eddie said, mustering his best Clint Eastwood voice, "make my day."

"You'll pay for this. I'll have you put away for life." Corp glanced down at Sarah. "The both of you."

"I don't think so, Mr. Dickhead." Eddie glanced down at Sarah. "You okay? He didn't hurt you, did he? I'll wax the bastard right here and now if—"

"No! He didn't hurt me."

"You decent?"

"Just—" Sarah squirmed under the blanket until she had her pants pulled up. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Eddie glanced at Corp then toward the door. "Jonathan!"

"Who?" Sarah muttered.

A dark skinned man carrying a video camera stepped into the doorway.

"What do you think, Jonathan?" Eddie mocked. "Kidnapping, assault, attempted rape, false arrest?"

"Yeah, that ought to about cover it." Jonathan ejected the tape and tossed it to Eddie.

"Thanks, my man. Our Mr. Dickhead will be checking out today. I'm sure he'll want to take advantage of your personal baggage pickup. Mind picking up his things?"

"My pleasure." Jonathan stuffed Corp's gun and coat in the suitcase and drug it over to the door. "Will your Mr. Richard Cranium be needing anything else?"

"I think that ought to take care of it."

"Very well." Jonathan bowed. "Your baggage will be at the front desk when you're ready to check out Mr. Cranium. Good day." Jonathan bowed again and then left.

It was a perfect performance and Sarah would have laughed had the circumstances been different. This was no college prank.

Eddie turned his attention to Corp. "So, Mr. Dickhead, you get the gist?"

"You're not as clever as you think."

Eddie backed Corp toward the table in the back of the room. "I don't know, what do you think Sarah?"

"I—I don't know—"

"Well, it wasn't bad for spur of the moment." Eddie stuck out his hand. "Key."

Corp slowly withdrew the key to the handcuffs from his pocket and handed it to him.

"Come here, babe."

Sarah slid off the foot of the bed and turned her back to Eddie.

"Watch him." Eddie said as he looked down to unlocked the handcuffs. "There you go."

Sarah wrapped her arms around Eddie and whispered, "What are you doing, he's a DHS—"

"Dickhead." Eddie took a deep breath and glanced toward the door. "See that cart?"

Sarah nodded.

"Gather up all the linens, bedspread, sheets, towels all of it. Put everything in the cart."

"I don't think we should—"

"Just do it."

"You ought to listen to her, you're way in over your head, boy. Just back out of here and leave her, you're probably only looking at twenty years."

"Really? I don't see it that way." Eddie spun the video cassette through his fingers. "Patriot Act or not, you way overstepped the boundary."

"You're not seriously that naïve?"

"That's everything," Sarah said stuffing the shower curtain in the cart.

"Wheel it down by the office, I'll be along in a minute."

"Not so fast," Sarah said in a sudden burst of courage. Before Eddie could react, she pushed past him and slapped Corp across the face. Corp took advantage of the situation and tried to grabbed her. The struggle was short, ending with Sarah's knee pounding into Corp's groin. She slapped him again and marched out of the room.

* * *

"As they say, hell hath no fury,"" Eddie waited until the squeaking cart wheel faded down the walkway. "Looks like it's just you and me. Take off your clothes."

"You watch too much T.V." Corp gasped.

"Do it!"

Corp sat back on the end of the bare mattress and disrobed.

"Kick 'em over here."

The muscles in Corp's neck were noticeable tense, his face red, seething with anger. "You'll pay—"

"Yeah, yeah, now who sounds cliché? Here's the way this is going down."

"I don't take orders from terrorists."

"Terrorists? Do tell, how'd you make that leap?"

Despite Corp's obvious embarrassment, he stood to address Eddie face-to-face. "Business, the economy, they're the backbone of this great nation. Nobody gives a damn if a building blows-up and takes out a handful of civilians. Corporate America is what counts. Your father's invention—"

"What invention?"

Corp sneered. "Your father's invention poses the greatest threat to this country since the great depression."

"You believe that crap?"

Corp nodded. "Destroy the wealthy and you destroy the country."

"You're nothing but a God damn elitist puppet." Eddie yanked the phone cord out of the wall then bent down to gather Corp's clothes. "Besides this tape, I also have a tape from the incident back home." Eddie backed away toward the door. "You remember, you shot a DHS agent? If I ever see or hear from you again, they'll go straight to the media—the Internet."

"You think they don't control the media? You're way out of your league, kid."

Eddie started to close the door, but stopped and walked back to Corp.

"Change of heart? Maybe there is hope for you."

Eddie's right hook sent Corp sprawling over the bed. "You ever touch her again, and you're a dead man." Eddie returned to the front door, hung the 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the door knob and as he closed the door behind him said, "Eddie out!"

Eddie met Sarah at the desk and after suggesting Jonathan take the rest of the day off, he and Sarah headed for the parking lot. "You all right?"

Sarah hopped in the passengers-side and laid her head back against the headrest, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I'm fine."

"What were you thinking?" Eddie continued, as he started the car. "He's a dangerous man, he's—"

"I'm sorry. I was just trying to help. I thought if he saw what was in the crates, he'd leave us alone."

"If it were that easy." Eddie pushed back her hair. "Hey, as long as you're okay. Just promise me, no more heroics."

Sarah slid closer and rested her head on his shoulder. "You're soaking wet."

"Guess I was a little more stressed over facing off with that bozo than I thought."

They rode in silence until the painted tiger paws appeared on the road, then both started talking at the same time.

"You first." Eddie said.

"Where are we going?"

"My place, we'll clean up, change, then—"

"My clothes are in the truck."

"Don't worry about it. After we shower, we'll get you something on Main Street."

"Make love to me."

"You kiddin', after what just happened?"

"Partly because of what just happened."

Eddie wrapped his arm around her, slid his hand up under her chin, tilted her face to his and kissed her. "You're not making much sense, besides, there won't be time. I don't want to be in an isolated place if Corp comes looking."

Sarah pushed back. "You have to make love to me before they kill us."

"You kiddin'? We're the good guys, they'll be no dyin'." Eddie pulled around to the far side of his apartment building and parked. "Why don't you head up and take a shower, I'm going to hang here for a few, my cell doesn't get the best reception inside."

"You sure it's okay, there won't be any—"

"It'll be fine, Corp hasn't had time—"

"Okay." Sarah opened the door, climbed out and headed for the apartment.

Eddie rolled down his window. "Be quick about it."

Sarah waved and disappeared around the corner.

Once Sarah was out of sight, Eddie hit the send key on his cell phone. "Hey, Dad."

"Eddie, how's it going?"

"You okay?"

"As a matter of fact, the pressure seems to have let up a bit."

"I thought as much."

"He's there?"

"He tried to arrest Sarah, I had to take him out."

"Take him out? You didn't—"

"No!" Eddie nodded as one of his neighbors walked past. "We're screwed, Dad, there is no way I can pull off the presentation with him here. Sarah and I are headed back to school after we get a few things and I'm going to tell Dr. Beasley we have to postpone."

"I understand. You have to look after her, son."

"I will Dad, I won't let anything happen to her, promise."

* * *

In the apartment, Sarah leaned back against the door and smiled. She now knew what it was like to be rescued. She spotted the clock over the kitchen counter and made a beeline for the shower.

* * *

"Did the parts fit?"

"Yeah Dad, as a matter of fact we took the Model A out for a spin last night."

"Wish I could have been there to see that."

"Me too, I wish—"

"No time for wishing, time for action. Don't talk to old Beasley just yet. You and Sarah lay low, maybe at Clemson. Does Corp know about the barn?"

"No way, he'd have busted us there."

"Good point. Get your friends to finish things up. While they take care of the loose ends, you two kids hang out at the library and get that presentation ship shape. I imagine the library is the last place Corp would think to look. In the meantime, I'll see if I can come up with something to distract him."

"Dad, don't do anything without running it by me first, got it?"

"You want me to get your approval?"

"That's not what I meant."

"You take care of her."

"Dad? Dad, you there?" Eddie looked down at his cell, Josh had hung-up.

* * *

Sarah was struggling to fasten her towel as she exited the bedroom. She was almost to the living room when the front door suddenly opened. "Ah!" Her towel fell to the floor.

"Where are your clothes?" Eddie scolded.

"Well hello to you too mister." Sarah rested her hands on her hips, posed, then flipped back her hair.

"Seriously, why aren't you dressed yet?"

"You kidding? My clothes are disgusting, I was going to toss them in the washer."

"No time," Eddie said, as he flattened himself against the wall and slid past her as though she were a leper. "Just get dressed. Whew! Going to have to be a cold shower now, thanks for that."

The bathroom door closed and Sarah heard the shower. _What was that all about?_ She thought. _I did ask him to make love to me and here I am all naked and everything._ She sulked into the bedroom and after getting dressed, leaned up against the bathroom door. "Eddie? Can you hear me?"

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing's wrong, I just wanted to thank you for earlier."

"We don't have time Sarah."

"Is that all you think about?"

"Me?" The water cut off.

"That's not what I meant. What I meant was I—"

The door opened and Eddie stepped out drying his chest.

Sarah felt the blood rush to her face.

"What?" Eddie flipped the towel over his shoulder and strolled into the bedroom. "Why don't you grab my laptop while I get dressed? Everything else is at the barn."

Sarah positioned herself with her back to him as she loaded his laptop into his backpack, but she was watching him in the mirror. She quickly looked away as their eyes met in the mirror.

"Enjoying the show?"

Sarah turned around and smiled. "It'll do."

"Oh really." Eddie danced up to her, swept her into his arms and dipped her back. As she lay her head back, he kissed her neck. "I love you."

Sarah reared up and they butted heads.

Eddie dropped her on the bed.

"What did you say?" Sarah pushed up on her elbows.

"Get used to it, that's never going to change."

Sarah reached up and tried to pull him down, but instead he yanked her to her feet.

"We should go."

"I love you too."

"What's not to love? Come on, we've got work to do."

### Chapter 25

Eddie and Sarah peeled off the Rt 93 exit headed toward Clemson. At the light, a beggar standing just off the edge of the road displayed a wrinkled, old, water-stained cardboard sign with the words, 'The Father sent me' scribbled in faded purple marker.

Eddie rolled down the window. "Jesus, what's up?" He said pulling out a wad of dollar bills as the dirty, old, grey-haired man staggered toward them. "What's the word?"

"God so loved the world that he sent me to—"

"Today the day?"

The old man looked around as if for a sign. "Good as any I guess."

"I could use saving today."

"No sir, savin's for sinners, you ain't no sinner."

When Jesus put his hands on the door and leaned forward, Eddie stuffed the handful of bills in the old man's shirt pocket. "Even Jesus needs to eat."

"Bless you."

Eddie looked over at Sarah. "I've already been blessed."

"Ahhhhhh." Jesus stared at her for a moment. "The light of the virgin Mary shines in her eyes."

"That it does." Eddie replied. As the light turned green, Jesus stepped back. Eddie eased out on the clutch and pulled away. "God bless you, Jesus."

"That was an odd exchange." Sarah said. "Is his name really Jesus?"

"Na, name's Ted Anderson. Nice old guy. I used to see him on the way to class every Tuesday and Thursday. Took him to breakfast a few times, but he said I shouldn't be seen with folks like him. Yep, Ted's a nice old guy." Eddie glanced over at Sarah and she was beaming. "What? Surprised?"

"Not at all." Sarah smiled.

"Don't get any grandiose ideas, I'm not going to save the world."

"Aren't you."

"Here we are," Eddie said ignoring her remark. He whipped into a curbside parking space and killed the engine. "Feel like a little shopping?"

"Seriously? A guy taking a girl shopping? It MUST be some kind of miracle."

"Very funny." Eddie led them down the street about a half a block to one of the popular Clemson clothes stores. "Listen, I'm going to hang out here while you look around."

"I knew it was too good to be true."

Eddie opened the door for her. "Just need to make a few calls, I'll be right out here."

"Like whatever." Sarah threw her head back and strutted inside.

Peter was the first on his list and after explaining the situation with Corp, Peter agreed to stay close to Caitlin. It was a good idea, because later when Eddie mentioned Corp to Caitlin, she freaked. She recovered and pretended not to need Peter, but Eddie knew she felt better that he was coming over. Eddie left her with instructions for neither of them to go anywhere near the barn until he figured out their next step. Peter showed up at Caitlin's before Eddie hung up. Matt was the next call. Matt and Brandon were to stay at the barn and finish up the loose ends, test run the engines, but under no circumstances leave the barn. Matt kept saying he could get some of his old buds from up Marietta way to take care of Corp. Eddie finally convince him to leave it be. He only hoped Matt listened.

"Damn babe," Eddie drawled as Sarah waltzed out of the store, "You look like a freakin' cheerleader."

"You like?" Sarah struck a pose. She'd tied her hair back in a ponytail behind a bright orange and white tennis brim. A white polo shirt with an orange Clemson tiger paw across the chest clung to her beautiful figure. A zippered orange hoody tied around her waist framed purple running shorts.

Eddie wrapped his arms around her and pulled her up close. "Damn girl." He nodded his approval.

They hit a few other stores before stopping to grab something to eat. Afterwards, they drove to the student parking lot and caught the CAT bus to the library. It was all business at the library. Sarah proofed his paper while Eddie worked on a computer animation of the engine. As the hours passed, Eddie would occasionally scan the area trying to be inconspicuous, but he caught Sarah doing the same thing a couple times. By evening, they were both feeling a little relieved, maybe Corp was going to chill. Eddie called Peter and invited him and Caitlin over to his place for pizza. Eddie packed up, shouldered his backpack and they started for the door.

"Edward, Miss Amirault, you're here late."

"Dr. Beasley, fancy running into you."

"Problems?" Dr. Beasley seemed to be searching Eddie's eyes.

"We had a rather unpleasant visitor earlier."

"I'll say," Sarah added.

"Here?"

"No, at my place, but I think it's taken care of."

"You don't sound very confident."

"Well, it's hard to say for sure, some people can be pretty damn dense. You haven't seen him today, have you?"

"No, not since his initial visit. Is this going to be a problem?"

"No."

"You don't sound very convincing. Edward, I need time if we're going to alter our plans. As a matter of fact, with some of these people, it may take weeks or even months to reschedule."

"No need to reschedule, we'll come up with something."

"That'a boy, that's what I like to hear—well, where are my manners." Dr. Beasley bowed toward Sarah. "Miss Amirault."

"Sarah, please it's Sarah."

"With an 'H' I'd imagine."

"How'd you know that?"

"It becomes you as does the Clemson attire, you look quite the fan. It's gotten a bit cool out, you might want to put that sweater on before you venture out. You kids have a nice evening."

"Thanks," Sarah replied, "You do the same."

"I'll touch base with you tomorrow," Eddie said, "so we can go over any last minute details."

"Excellent. Well, be safe." Dr. Beasley nodded then continued on into the library.

"Shall we?" Eddie offered Sarah his arm. As soon as they got outside, Sarah had to put on her sweatshirt. Dr. Beasley was right; the warmth of the day had followed the sun over the mountains.

Caitlin and Peter were climbing out of his car as Eddie and Sarah turned into the parking lot. There was the usual joking around as they headed for the apartment, but beneath their casual exchange, an unmistakable edge. Once inside, they grabbed a couple of sodas and sat down around the table.

"I called the pizza in ahead," Caitlin said, "the usual, hope that's okay?"

"So," Peter said, "What happened with Corp?"

"He arrested me," Sarah said, "but instead of taking me in for questioning, he took me to a hotel room."

"Oh my God!" Caitlin gasped, cupping her hands over her mouth. "He didn't—"

"No, Eddie showed up on his white horse."

"And rescued you from the police?" Peter said, shaking his head.

"Peter!" Caitlin punched him in the arm. "That guy is like so totally creepy."

Peter turned toward Eddie. "So you rescued yon maiden, but how'd you lose the 'creepy' guy?"

"Let's say we had a little conversation, a kind of meeting of the minds, and I let him know if I ever saw his sorry ass again, I'd turn in the tape of him shooting that agent back home."

"What tape?"

Eddie shrugged.

"Oh, great, "Peter groaned, "how long till you think he figures that out?"

"We only need a few days."

"Wait a minute." Caitlin interrupted. "I don't get it, you threatened him and then just walked away?"

"He wasn't really dressed to go out."

"Oh man," Peter laughed, "you didn't—like we did to Brandon?"

"What?" Caitlin asked.

Eddie chuckled. "Left him butt naked."

"That's why you had me remove all the linens." Sarah said.

"Of course, I left him bent over gasping for air."

"Great," Peter said, "add assaulting an officer."

The door bell rang.

"I got it, "Caitlin said, hopping up, "must be the pizza."

"I'll help." Sarah followed Caitlin.

"Money's on the table by the door," Eddie called after them. "So, Pete, you should have seen it, Corp standing there with his little pecker hanging out—Pete? What?" Eddie turned toward the door as Corp stepped into the apartment. "Great." Eddie had expected him at some point, he'd even considered the confrontation, but even so, he was surprised. Eddie stood and squared off against his adversary as Caitlin and Sarah retreated to the counter.

Corp seemed overly confident, even for him, but it was obvious why when two agents stepped into the room behind him. "Well, what have we here, a little family reunion?"

No one answered.

Eddie unknowingly clenched his fists as Corp's eyes scanned the room.

"Just give me half a reason." Corp said, apparently noticing Eddie's fists.

Eddie released the tension in his hands. Sarah and Caitlin backed around the counter as Corp moved to the entrance to the hallway. He looked in the bedroom, then glanced in the bathroom.

"Just the four of you then, one big happy family." Corp turned toward the agents. "We're going to need a little one-on-one time."

"Yes sir." One of the agents patted the bulge beneath his jacket as they stepped outside and closed the door.

_Asshole in training_ , Eddie thought.

"Well, here we are," Corp began, "one big happy family. Oh, that's right, pity about your mother. A stroke wasn't it? Right out of the blue to boot."

Eddie's realization that Corp had been involved in his mother's death showed on Caitlin's face as shock.

"Oh, and let's not forget dear old dad is missing." Corp's tone dropped. "You know I have the authority to hold all of you. Do you seriously think for one minute that the U.S. Government would allow you to jeopardize the nation's security? The citizens of this country demand—"

"Spare us the idiotic speech," Eddie interrupted. It was obvious Corp was seething, on the edge of striking out uncontrollably. Eddie was ready, it would be Corp's word against the four of them.

Peter nudged him. "Chill." He mumbled under his breath.

"I wouldn't worry about graduation if I were you," Corp prodded. "Once I have your father under wraps, you're finished. You're just a means to an end."

"Eddie," Peter warned.

"Ah, the math genius," Corp said to Peter. "Oh, come now, don't look so surprised. A perfect GPA is something to be proud of." He paused as if thinking. "Unless you've been cheating of course, pull a few strings and poof, gone." Corp eyed Caitlin up and down, turning her marble complexion ashen. "Skinny for my taste, but worth a few interrogation sessions, I suppose." Corp turned toward Sarah and winked. "You and I have unfinished business."

Eddie wrapped his arms around Sarah and Caitlin. "I wouldn't worry too much about numb nuts, he has the balls of a hummingbird."

"Always the wise ass." Corp's face was beat red.

Eddie eased the girls behind him and stepped forward. "Unless you have a warrant, get the hell out of my apartment." To Eddie's surprise, Corp reached into his pocket, pulled out an envelope, then tossed it on the table.

"Did I forget to mention I found that on your door? Seems you've been evicted, something about flammable material and the fire at your previous residence." Corp backed off toward the door. "Yep, I'm going to enjoy taking you down. One notch at a time to prolong the agony." He opened the door and stepped outside. "I've got my thumb on you."

"Asshole," Peter said to the back of the closed door.

"Real brave, Pete."

"Sure, make fun, we're so screwed."

"You leave him to me."

"Come on, Eddie, he's the government. We're finished. Even if we could—"

"Don't you get it yet?" Eddie looked around the room at the frightened, puzzled faces. "We've got him right where we want him. He's not acting on behalf of the U. S. Government—this is personal—emotional—all about his pride. He's more interested in us than the machine."

"I don't see how that's going to help." Peter said.

"Mistakes, he'll make mistakes. Once—" A knock at the door stopped Eddie in mid-sentence.

Eddie stomped across the room and yanked open the door. "What!"

"Pizza!" A skinny delivery boy shrieked. "Your order, the usual?"

"Dude, sorry about that, I thought you were someone else. How much do I owe you?"

"Nuthin', those guys paid." The delivery boy nodded toward Corp and the two agents headed down the sidewalk.

Eddie grabbed the money off the table. "Here's ten bucks, keep the change."

"You sure?"

"Call it a tip."

"Thanks. I've almost saved up enough for that Camaro for sale up the—"

Eddie kicked the door closed. "Soups on." As Caitlin took the pizza boxes, Eddie turned back and opened the door. "Hey," he shouted to the delivery boy, "that's a sweet ride—the Camaro, I hope you get it."

The boy turned back grinning from ear-to-ear. "Yeah, me too. Thanks."

"See ya." Eddie closed the door then joined the others around the kitchen table.

Finally Caitlin broke the silence. "Did they kill mom—"

"Don't be ridiculous," Eddie snapped. "He was just trying to scare us. Besides, I get the impression we've seen the last of him."

"Oh really," Peter said, "where'd you get that?"

"He was grandstanding, he's got nothing. No, I think we might have seen the last of Agent Corp."

"I hope so," Caitlin sighed.

Eddie put on 'Days of Thunder' after they ate. Peter and Caitlin sat on the sofa while Eddie sat in his big chair with Sarah across his lap. The movie helped take the edge off their anxiety. Even so, Eddie kept thinking about what Corp said. Did the Feds really kill their mother because of what Josh was building? Was this whole thing really worth the sacrifice? Would it really crash the economy? Had he really thought everything out?

"Doubts?" Sarah whispered as she stroked Eddie's cheek.

"No, the truth—"

"You don't have to if you think—"

"Yes, I do."

"Hey," Peter complained, "you mind keepin' it down, we're trying to watch a movie."

Eddie leaned forward and whispered into Sarah's ear. "If we quit, they win."

"We've already won." Sarah turned her head, caught Eddie's cheek in her palm and kissed him.

"Jeeeeez," Peter groaned.

Caitlin jabbed her elbow into his ribs. "Let 'em be."

"As long as they keep their clothes on."

When the movie ended, Caitlin and Peter said goodnight. Sarah had fallen asleep before the movie was half over. Eddie shifted her to the side, pulled out his phone, flipped though his contacts and hit send.

"Hey, Dad," he whispered into the phone.

"It's late, what's up?"

"Corp's still hanging around. I've been sitting here all night trying to come up with a Plan B, but I got nothing. I was wondering what you thought about maybe giving him one of the engines? Maybe it'd get rid of him. I'm telling you, this guy is worse than a Whiskey hangover. I just can't shake him. I don't want to let you down, but I think—I don't know."

There was a moment of silence.

"You're talking fast, son. Can't think when you're brain is in overdrive. Throttle back, something will present itself. And listen, no matter how this turns out, I'm proud of you, all you kids, you've done more than any father could have expected. By the way, how's Sarah?"

"She's fine, sleeping on my shoulder."

"Peter? Missy?"

"They're fine, just left as a matter-of-fact, we were watching 'Days of Thunder'."

"Ah, that was always your favorite. I always thought that movie had to do more with you wanting to be an engineer than I did. Wish I could have been there with you all."

Eddie glanced down at Sarah, sound asleep on his lap. "Listen Dad, about Sarah, I wanted to ask her—"

"I was wondering when you were going to get around to it."

"Really?"

"She told me how she felt about you. The way you talk about her, well, I figured you felt the same. Listen Ed, she depends on you, same with Pete and Missy. You be there for them, you hear."

"I will. What about the engine?"

"You already know the answer. Things happen for a reason, if it's meant to be, it'll happen. Looks like my battery's dying again so I better go. Good luck on the presentation and say hey to the kids."

"Night Dad."

* * *

Josh flipped his phone closed and got up. Falling snow was visible in the street lights outside the window, but at least the wind had diminished. He got dressed, put on his coat and headed downstairs. It was a short, but cold walk to the phone booth on the corner. Josh closed the door, pulled off his glove and took out the business card he'd been saving. A deep breath escaped in a trail of frozen vapor, fogging the window. Josh dialed the number on the wrinkled card. He waited until the automated voicemail recording finished then left his message. "This is Josh Smith. Don't bother tracing this number, I won't be here. We need to talk. I'll call back, don't disappoint me again." Josh hung up the phone and headed back to his hotel room to pack.

* * *

Eddie stretched and opened his eyes. One of Caitlin's fancy notes was stuck on the television screen. 'See you tomorrow.' Sarah had slid down next to him and was cuddled up against his side. _I don't remember the note being there_ , Eddie thought. "Hey, sleepy head." He brushed back Sarah's hair and kissed her forehead.

Sarah groaned, her eyes opening no more than a slit. "Is the movie over already?"

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"I didn't notice until I woke up."

"What time is it?" Sarah kissed him on the cheek.

"Nine o'clock."

"In the morning?"

"You got it."

"Where's—"

"They left after the movie." Eddie nodded toward the television. "Caitlin left a note."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass—"

"You know what's really going to be embarrassing? If you don't let me up, I'm going to pee myself."

"Oh!" Sarah scooted up on the arm of the chair.

Eddie escaped to the bathroom. When he returned, Sarah was in the kitchen.

"Caitlin's such a doll, look, she even took out the trash."

"Yep," Eddie said, "hell of a catch for some lucky guy."

Sarah draped her arms around his waist. "You mean, like a wife?"

Eddie pulled away to conceal his smile. "One day. Why don't you get cleaned up and we'll grab some breakfast."

When Sarah turned on the shower, Eddie slipped outside to have a look around. Things seemed quiet, but he wanted to be sure. After a short walk around the parking lot, he was reasonably certain they weren't being watched and headed back to the apartment.

Sarah shrieked as he pushed the door open.

"Whoa, what's with all that?"

"You didn't say you were going out, I didn't—"

"Dress for company? I'd say." He smiled and pushed the door closed with his foot.

Sarah stood sheepishly tugging at the hem of her orange hoody. "Company? Oh my God, we're not—"

Eddie stepped toward her. "I love the way you look when you're damp and all. Come here." He reached out and pulled Sarah into his arms. As he kissed her, he slowly pulled the zipper of her hoody down to her breasts.

Sarah eased back, putting space between them. "What happened to breakfast?"

Eddie pulled back her sweatshirt and peered down to her toes. "Apparently the frig isn't the only thing that's bare."

"There is that last wish."

"We don't have time. I thought we'd grab a bite at Waffle House on the way to meet Dr. Beasley."

"Oh, really." Sarah pulled the zipper the rest of the way allowing her breasts to push the sweatshirt open. "You certain?"

It was obvious to him she'd taken his refusal as a challenge. "It's going to be like that then is it?" Eddie pulled her back into his arms, kissed her and then nibbled his way down her neck, not stopping until he reached her collarbone.

Sarah wiggled her shoulders until the sweatshirt slipped to the crook of her arms. Eddie took her hands and held her at arms length. Sarah smiled, lowered her head and leaned back toward the bedroom. He let her lead him into the bedroom and set him on the foot of the bed. He responded by tracing her shoulders, his hands slowly descending her arms until the sweatshirt fell to the floor. As she reached for his shirt, he grabbed her hands.

"You don't think I can resist, do you?"

"Resist?" Sarah purred.

Eddie glanced down and saw her clothes lying on the bed next to him. "This is the day before the big event. We—"

"Isn't this the 'Big Event'?"

"You know what I mean. Besides, aren't you starved?"

"Something like that."

"Well, we'll have to see if we can do something about that then won't we." Eddie extended a pair of her underwear and opened the leg. "Left leg first." Sarah stepped in, one foot then the other, and he slowly guided the panties up her legs, pausing at her buttocks where he slid his fingers under the elastic, teasing her. Sarah's eyes fluttered.

With the same sensuality, he guided her running shorts up her legs pausing to kiss her abdomen before pushing them over her hips. He followed by wrapping her bra around her and fastening the clasp between her breasts. Finally he pulled her polo shirt over her head then stood.

Sarah whispered, "That was backwards you know. I never imagined you could get turned on by getting dressed."

Eddie glanced down at his watch. "How about those eggs?"

"Sure."

Spring permeated the sunny morning with an air of optimism, yet there was a lingering uncertainty. At the Waffle House in Anderson, they grabbed a corner booth and ordered breakfast.

"I saw you looking in the mirror," Eddie said after the waitress left.

"I didn't see him, did you?"

"I expected to."

"But last night, you said—"

"That was just to help Peter and Caitlin chill a little."

"So, where is he?"

"Wish I knew."

"Have you talked to Dad?"

"Dad?"

The waitress returned with their order. Sarah waited until she left.

"You know who I mean, have you talked to him?"

"He didn't answer this morning, probably charging his phone again, I wouldn't worry—"

"Give me your phone."

"Okay, already." He handed her his phone and she punched up Josh's number.

"Hi, this is Sarah, just wanted to make sure you're alright. Call us back when you get this. We're worried, just want to know you're safe." Sarah closed the phone and slid it across the table. "Voice mail."

Eddie took her hand. "Listen, even if he's hiding out in an igloo, after tomorrow he's off the hook." The phone rang. "Go ahead."

"Hello... We're fine. Are you alright?" Sarah blushed. "We're having breakfast... The Waffle House... Okay, be safe."

"Well?"

"He said he was fine, but—"

"See, I told you."

"He's lying, something's wrong."

"Because?"

"I'm telling you, something's wrong."

### Chapter 26

Mr. Goff adjusted his hearing aid and pressed the speaker button on the phone. "Good evening Mr. Smith, I'm Secretary Goff. As Secretary of DHS's Private Sector I—"

"Save the chit chat, I won't be on long enough for a trace. I have what you're looking for."

Goff looked across the room toward the dimly lit bar. Wallis nodded and then knocked back the remainder of his Brandy. "How can we be certain it's real, not some sort of rouge?"

"If you weren't sure, why burn down my house, call me a terrorist, chase me out of the country? Damn!"

Goff smiled, a mistake, if they could keep him talking they could narrow the search area.

"What does it matter? Josh continued. "Real or not, if word hits the media, your constituents would take a bath in the market. The clock's ticking, ball's in your court."

"I'm not sure the word of a terrorist counts for much. What if I want additional proof?"

Wallis appeared at the table and slapped the mute button, sloshing his freshly filled drink on Goff's sleeve. "What are you doing? You're not playing him. Agree to his demands, we can't afford to lose him." Wallis released the mute button to a dial tone. "DAMN IT!"

Goff felt the sweat forming above his brow. The phone rang almost as soon as he set the receiver in the cradle.

"I want a million dollars, chump change to the people you work for."

"I don't like your insinuation," Goff began, "The Department of Homeland Security—"

"Where?" Wallis cut him off.

"Ah, finally, the real boss, now we're getting somewhere. I won't bother with introductions as I'm sure you wouldn't give me your real name anyway. As for the invention, well if nothing else, it proves you're not about the American people. You're just another government puppet to big business." There was a pause. "I want to make the exchange on American soil, Bar Harbor. Do you know where it is?"

"The coast of Maine." Goff replied.

Wallis slipped back into the shadows near the bar.

"Have your Agent Corp book fare tomorrow on the CAT Ferry out of Yarmouth. He better have the money and no funny business, I'll be watching."

"Where should he meet you?"

"I'll find him. And Mr. Goff, it works. Ask your boss there, if you and your blessed DHS really had the American people's best interest at heart, you'd be trying to help me, not bury me." The line went dead.

Goff leaned back, relieved. Josh had stayed on the line long enough for a trace and using a ferry for the exchange was a huge mistake. They had him. It was all but over. Goff made eye contact with Wallis.

'Where is Agent Corp?" Wallis grumbled.

"South Carolina, following up on a lead."

"Get him on a plane to Halifax."

"What about the money?"

"We don't pay terrorists. That's why I enlisted your Agent Corp, he has a knack for this type of situation." Wallis emerged from the shadows.

"You look concerned."

"I'm not sure who's playing whom."

Before he knew what he was saying, Goff asked, "Did you know?"

"Yes and no. Smith's not the first to make an attempt, but no one has ever succeeded."

"Then why leave it out there on the Internet? On one of our sites?"

"As it stood, it was just another urban legend that captured the imagination of the conspiracy theorists, buried in all the other ridiculous ideas, but if it disappeared—attention, we didn't want any attention drawn to it." Wallis chomped down on an ice cube.

Goff exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"You disapprove?"

"No sir."

"Are you daft man? Imagine the collapse of the global oil industry, those damn Arab's would probably start a third world war. Not only that, but the countries power infrastructure would become instantly obsolete, taxes, fees, tariffs, all gone. This government—all governments would go broke. Imagine the impact. Chaos, absolute anarchy, that's what would happen." Wallis returned to the bar. "See that our zealous Agent Corp does not fail."

"Yes sir." Goff got up and started for the door.

"And Mr. Secretary," Wallis said, "I would have a failsafe backup plan—nothing to chance."

Goff nodded and stepped into the hallway. As he walked down the deserted hall, the squeak of his footsteps the only sound, he realized the gravity of 'failsafe'.

* * *

Sarah inhaled the fresh aroma of clean sheets, blinked a few times and forced her sleepy eyes open. Through the blinds, she could see the night sky was just beginning to brighten with the soft, lavender shades of morning. On the other hand, the bedroom doorway was filled with a harsh incandescent orange glow and from the living room; she could hear Eddie still rehearsing his presentation.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the invention—no the machine—no the engine, yes, the engine. Ladies and gentlemen, the engine you see before you will..."

Her eyes drifted closed, but before she fell off to sleep, the alarm clock's harsh buzzer jarred her back. The bed shook, the alarm stopped.

"Hey, sleepy head."

Eddie's moist lips met hers and she wrapped her arms around him until he pulled away. "Hey," Sarah replied, opening her eyes.

"Big day."

She caressed Eddie's cheek. "Did you get any sleep?"

"A little."

"I'm sorry, I couldn't stay awake."

"Don't worry about it, you were a big help, honest." Eddie pulled Sarah up to a sitting position. "We have to leave in an hour."

"But it's still dark out," Sarah pouted.

"One hour."

Sarah flopped back on the bed as he got up. The overhead light suddenly blinded her.

"Up and at 'em." He yanked off the covers.

"Alright, already."

"You always Miss Grumpy in the morning?" His voice was from the bathroom.

Sarah sat up again, it was Eddie's shave cream covered face in the bathroom mirror that slowly came into focus. She shivered as she got out of bed and walked over to the bathroom door. "Remind me again why we have to get up so early."

"We have to grab breakfast for everyone on our way over to the barn, then load everything up and head for Charlotte."

"The Lowe's Motor Speedway, right? You mind, I have to pee?"

"Help yourself." Eddie scooted aside and let Sarah squeeze by.

"So much for privacy—oh, don't," Sarah groaned as Eddie's shave cream covered face kissed her, "that's grose."

Sarah dropped her panties and sat down on the toilet. "I feel like an old married couple."

"It suits us." Eddie dropped his towel and climbed in the shower. "You coming? We don't have much—"

"Time. I know." Sarah pulled off her nightshirt, pushed the shower curtain aside and stepped in behind him.

Forty five minutes later, they stood at the front door taking inventory. Eddie's suit was on a hanger draped across his back. Sarah was wearing a white blouse and dark skirt. As Eddie reached for the door, his cell phone rang. "Hey Pete... yep, just leaving... great, we're going to hit Mickey D's, but we'll be right behind you... okay, see you in a few." Eddie flipped his phone closed. "Ready?"

Sarah pressed her skirt down. "I wish I had time to run an iron over it again."

"You're going to steal the show as it is. Let's hit it."

After a short detour thought the drive-thru, Eddie and Sarah pulled around behind the barn. As they got out, Caitlin's car came around the corner and pulled in next to them. Almost before the car stopped, Caitlin popped out. Sarah sensed an almost panic about her, but it disappeared behind what seemed like a forced smile when Eddie put up his hand.

Eddie leaned over and gave Sarah a kiss. "Mind taking these into the guys? Caitlin and I'll be along in a minute."

"Sure." Sarah glanced between Eddie and Caitlin. "Is something wrong?"

"Feed the troops, we'll be right there." As Sarah went around the corner, he shouted, "and don't let Matt eat all the egg & cheese biscuits."

Matt and Brandon hollered when they saw Sarah with the food. The barn door slammed closed behind her leaving Eddie and Caitlin alone out front of the barn.

"So, what's up?" Eddie said.

"Did you hear the news this morning?" Caitlin pushed her car door closed and walked around the hood to stand next to him.

"Nope, listening to a CD."

"They raised the threat level to Code Orange."

"Okay," Eddie said, "and that's important why?"

"They're going to stop us."

"Nobodies going to—"

"Yes they are, don't you see? They've started a massive search for Daddy. They're going to kill him and then come after us." Caitlin's voice had become shrill.

Eddie grabbed her tense shoulders and pulled her tightly against him. "Hey, everything's going to be okay."

Caitlin squirmed. "They're going to stop you."

"You kidding? Have you ever known anyone to stop me from doing anything?"

Caitlin leaned back and looked up into his face. "But—"

"No, no buts." Eddie let go and caught her hands as she stepped back. "Everything's right on schedule. Dr. Beasley has arranged for the presentation to be covered on local television. Once they see what we're doing, I'm positive the national, maybe even international networks will pick it up."

"We're going to be on television?"

"This is a big deal. All the major car manufacturers are going to be represented and when we're done, they all get to take one of our little marvels home."

"You're giving them away?"

"The free market, competition, capitalism, they're the only way to make sure the technology doesn't get buried."

"And then Daddy—"

"Exactly, there will no longer be any need to silence him, the proverbial cat will be out of the bag."

"I'm sorry I doubted you."

Eddie glanced down at his watch. "In a couple of hours, we'll all be famous."

Caitlin smiled. "You always could fix everything."

"We better get inside before Matt eats everything."

Half an hour later, they rolled back the barn door. Matt and Brandon loaded three of the cars on the trailer along with a sectioned engine and Caitlin's display. Eddie took a minute to shake everyone's hand and then climbed up on the truck's running board. "Okay guys, we ready?"

"Let's get this show on the road." Matt yelled.

"We've all got cell phones, so if you have any problems, give me a call and we'll pull over. Remember, take it easy, we don't want to draw any unnecessary attention. Matt, you, Brandon and Peter have the three cars; Sarah and Caitlin are with me."

"Dude, how come you get the chicks?"

"I'll ride with you." Caitlin hopped down and joined Matt.

"Okay guys, let's go make history."

Eddie fired up the old diesel and led the procession down the dirt road toward the main road. Sarah leaned out the passenger's window and looked back.

"Everyone with us?"

"Yeah," Sarah said, flopping back down in her seat. "That'll all stop won't it?"

"What?"

"The black smoke pouring out of the exhaust."

"Yeah. You know, I was so wrapped up in the engineering, I didn't say anything in the presentation about the environment, do you think I should?"

"Absolutely, I don't know why we didn't think of it before."

For the remainder of the ride, they went over the presentation, making a few tweaks to include the environmental impact of the engine. Although Eddie had allowed for the Charlotte morning rush hour, it wasn't bad this particular day and they pulled into the parking lot half an hour early. Dr. Beasley met them at the infield garage area. Once they parked, it was handshakes all around.

"Well," Dr. Beasley said, shaking Eddie's hand, "ready for the big day?"

"You know it. How about a spin?"

"Now?" Dr. Beasley seemed to almost blush.

"Matt," Eddie yelled, "get everything unloaded, we'll be right back." He turned to Dr. Beasley, "Care to drive?"

"Oh no son, by all means, you drive—but not like the go-cart." He winked.

Eddie and Dr. Beasley did three laps, pushing the old Ford up to a frightening ninety miles an hour on the back stretch at one point. They were both all smiles as Eddie pulled into the pits and parked behind the other cars.

"Gentlemen, ladies," Dr. Beasley nodded toward Sarah and Caitlin, "you all have done a remarkable job. On behalf of Clemson University, I want to thank you for your tireless effort, for your dedication and for your discretion. You all should be extremely proud of your accomplishment. I've arranged a broad spectrum of media coverage for today's event and I know I can count on you to represent the university well."

"You got it Prof!" Matt shouted.

Eddie started it, but they all joined in and applauded one another. Matt kept the excitement going with the Clemson cadence.

"Well," Dr. Beasley said to Eddie as they quieted down, "shall we go make history?"

Eddie took Sarah's hand. "I thought it would be nice if Sarah joined us."

Dr. Beasley nodded and smiled. "Always thinking." He motioned toward his car. "By all means."

Eddie turned back to the others. "You guys know what to do. I'll call Pete when we're ready. I don't know what to say guys, I—"

"Go do your talky thing dude," Matt interrupted, "we'll be ready."

Eddie and Sarah piled into the back of Dr. Beasley's car and he drove them around to the back of the grandstands where they caught the elevator to the skyboxes. Eddie immediately spotted the college dean when they entered the suite, but a slight twinge of embarrassment hit him when Professor Irvin emerged from what seemed like most of the Engineering Department professors.

"Well, son," Professor Irvin said as he shook Eddie's hand, "it seems you've been holding out on me."

"I actually do have the paper for your class, sir."

Professor Irvin slapped Eddie on the back. "I bet you do. A big day for the university, a big day indeed. Well, I'm sure you must have things to tend to. You really should try the breakfast hors d'oeuvres splendid, absolutely splendid."

Just then, the doors parted and a second wave of caterer's paraded in, followed by Matt and Peter.

"What are you guys doing here?" Eddie said.

"Forget something?" Peter prodded, lifting the corner of the drape-covered table they were pushing.

"Jeez." Eddie slapped his forehead. "I completely forgot about Caitlin's display."

"And don't forget the cutaway."

"Right, the cutaway. Thanks."

"No problemo bro, where do you want 'em?"

Eddie led them over to the right front corner of the skybox where they assembled the display. As they worked, several professors tried to stop them to ask questions, but Dr. Beasley would shoo them off. Matt and Peter took off as soon as they finished. The media crews began to show up a few minutes later to setup and do their audio and lighting checks. Eddie turned his back to the crowd to gather himself and look out over the picturesque expanse that spread out before him.

"Nervous?" Sarah whispered.

"Relieved actually." Eddie reached down and took her hand. "Do you know what this is?"

"A race track, where grown men come to play with cars like little boys."

Eddie frowned.

"It was a joke."

"This is the Charlotte Motor Speedway, one of the most famous tracks in the country. For decades, the greatest drivers have come here to test their nerve against each other and this track. It's a place that's created legends, a cornerstone of racing history. Can't you feel it?"

Sarah looked out the window and squeezed Eddie's hand. "And it's about to become the birthplace of the greatest invention since the internal combustion engine."

"Edward," Dr. Beasley said as he walked up and squeezed between them. He put his arm around Eddie's shoulders. "I assume you brought something else to wear."

"Oh, yes sir, my suit's—"

"On the hanger, by the door." Sarah interrupted.

"I'll just—"

"Run along and change, I'm sure Miss—"

"Sarah sir, please call me Sarah."

"Certainly, young lady. I assume 'Sarah' will be joining us to greet our guests."

"Yes sir," Eddie said, "Caitlin made some brochures and I—"

"Your suit?" Sarah interrupted.

"Am I being dismissed?"

"You are."

Eddie stopped at the doorway and looked back. Sarah and Dr. Beasley were at the table and she was showing him the brochures she would be handing out before the presentation. _Yep_ , Eddie thought, _she's a great addition to the team, one I intend to make permanent_.

### Chapter 27

"You've reached DHS Agent Corp. I am unable to take your call—" Goff slammed down the phone and spun around toward the window. Below, the streets of Washington D.C. were filled with commuters as another busy work week began. The sun was warm, but the spring air still crisp. He glanced at his desk clock and considered the options. Corp had called prior to boarding the ferry, but he'd not checked in since. There was Plan B, the failsafe plan, but he'd hoped to avoid that. He decided to try Corp one more time.

* * *

Josh looked back from the window as Corp's cell phone broke his trance. It was the fourth time it had gone off in the last half hour. Corp was still out, his hands and feet securely bound with duct tape. Annoyed, Josh leaned forward and pulled Corp's cell from his breast pocket. He considered just turning it off, but flipped it open instead. "Hello!"

"Where the hell have you been? I've had about enough of your rogue—"

"Agent Corp is indisposed at the moment."

"Smith?"

Josh glanced down at the empty briefcase and the gun in his still trembling hand. "He came empty handed. I said no tricks."

"It's not what you think. We had to put Agent Corp on a plane before we could arrange the funds. I assure you we'll have the money by the time you reach Bar Harbor. We—"

Josh took the phone away from his ear and stared at it a moment before hitting the end button. In the corner, Corp groaned as he started to come around. Josh turned back to the window and looked out over the Gulf of Maine. He wasn't really surprised Corp didn't bring the money, he'd figured it that way all along, but the reality of his actions stuck in his throat. He thought about calling Eddie, but knew the presentation was underway. Had he doomed his family? He'd never intended it, it was just idle curiosity. Behind him, he could hear Corp struggling against his restraints, whining through the tape across his mouth. Josh had accepted this outcome, almost expected it, and although he thought he was prepared, he was suddenly filled with visions of the things he would miss.

* * *

Goff hesitated a moment, but finally picked up the phone and dialed. "Good morning Mr. Wallis. I thought I should let you know Agent Corp is down... No sir, I was hoping...I realize that, but the failsafe plan...Yes sir. I was hoping we might warn... No sir, I guess that's not possible... approximately 900 give or take, plus the crew... I remember the numbers from 9/11, but... yes sir, very well, sir, I'll execute Plan B."

* * *

"Have we met?" Sarah teased as Eddie returned to the room.

"I hate these damn monkey suits."

"Let me get that." Sarah said as she reached up to adjust his tie.

"Why do women always do that? Mom used to drive me crazy every time I wore one of these damn things."

Dr. Beasley joined them. "They're here. Ready?"

"Yes sir."

Sarah followed them to the elevators to await their guests. It had been just a few minutes when the elevator door opened. Their greetings were received rather coldly, the majority of their guest apparently feeling quite put out at attending a college dissertation no matter what the topic. While they waited for the next elevator, Dr. Beasley leaned over and assured Eddie that their mood would improve once they saw the hor d'oeuvres. He was correct. They greeted two more elevator loads, and then joined everyone at the buffet. Sarah was embarrassed as she seemed to be getting most of the attention from the predominantly male audience, but when she looked back, Eddie winked. One rather boisterous man took her hand and kissed the back of it. Sarah tried not to squirm, but talk about inappropriate, then she heard Dr. Beasley whisper something to Eddie about, 'bees and honey'. Eddie replied with a more distinguishable, 'you mean like lions and Christians.'

Dr. Beasley smiled, then interrupted, "Gentleman, let me show you to your seats." He gave Eddie a thumbs up and led the men toward the front of the room.

When Sarah looked back, Eddie was on his cell phone. "Hey Pete, it's all yours... thanks man, see you in about an hour." He closed the phone, took a deep breath, "Let's do this."

Dr. Beasley stepped behind the podium at the front of the room and tapped the mike. "Ladies and gentlemen, if you will please take your seats we can begin this mornings presentation, I'm sure you are quite anxious to see what we have on tap for you."

Sarah eased up next to Eddie as people made their way to their seats. Eddie reached in his pocket, pulled out a quarter and begun weaving it through his fingers. "You still trying to do that?" Sarah whispered.

Eddie held out his hand and the quarter disappeared. "I just can't get it to reappear the way I want."

Dr. Beasley cleared his throat. "Once again, I'd like to welcome you on behalf of Clemson University. As I'm sure you know, Clemson has been deeply involved in automotive research, Over the last fifty years..."

Eddie leaned closer to Sarah. "Nervous?"

"Me?" Sarah whispered, "What about you?"

"When we were building it, I guess, the expectation was so great, but nah, this is the icing on the cake." He paused a moment. "I'm glad you're here to share this with me."

"You kidding? I wouldn't miss this for the world."

"Well, it looks like it's my turn, you be okay?"

"Yeah, I'll just sit back here with the camera guys." She eased into an aisle seat. "Eddie," she whispered, "be yourself."

"Once again ladies and gentlemen, it's my privilege to introduce Clemson graduate Mr. Edward Smith." Dr. Beasley raised his hands in applause and motioned toward the back of the room. "Edward."

Eddie walked down the aisle amid sparse applause and then shook Dr. Beasley's hand. As Dr. Beasley took his seat, Eddie stepped behind the podium. He seemed nervous, but Sarah knew he wasn't, so why the delay? Then, he stepped out from behind the podium and removed his coat.

Sarah smiled.

Eddie pointed toward her, loosened his tie and then rolled up his sleeves. The speakers rustled as he attached the lapel mike to his shirt collar. "What can I say, I'm an engineer. I hope you'll make yourselves comfortable."

Nobody moved.

"Well then, I'll get right to it. First I'd like to thank Dr. Beasley for making all this possible. Behind me you'll notice four cars have begun to circle the track. Each of your corporations are represented, currently, Ford, Chevy, Toyota and BMW and the drivers will bring out Honda and Volkswagen shortly. Each of these vehicles has been retrofitted with a revolutionary engine that consumes no fossil fuel. I'll repeat that, NO fossil fuel."

There were some hushed whispers as Eddie repeated the statement. To Sarah, it seemed like disbelief.

"You doubt me. Bio diesel, electric, maybe even hydrogen, they're all the buzz right? Wrong. Each of the aforementioned modes of power consume some kind of fuel. The engines out on the track operate on six quarts of vegetable oil, Crisco to be exact."

The conversations were louder this time and it seemed as though Eddie let them continue to build suspense.

"You sir," Eddie finally cut in, "you said vegetable oil is bio diesel, so you figure they should be able to make a few laps and have to refuel."

The man nodded.

"The problem is you assume they are consuming it, they're not. We started the engines this morning, drove them here from Clemson, parked them, engines still running, then pulled them out for you to see drive around the track and they have not yet consumed one drop of fuel."

"How's that possible?" A man in the back asked.

"Now we're talking." Eddie reached over and pulled the drape off the cutaway engine.

There was a collective gasp followed by flashes from cell phones.

Sarah swelled with pride as though she'd built the engine herself. She overheard the man in front of her lean over to his companion, "there's no such thing as perpetual motion, this is a complete waste of time."

"So," Eddie continued, giving the model a spin, "how many of you think you've wasted your time? Be honest." Eddie pointed to the man in front of Sarah. "You sir, do you believe there is no such thing as perpetual motion?"

Sarah smiled, Eddie had them pegged, he was working them like a sculpture works clay. As Eddie began his dissertation on the internal workings of the engine, Sarah became distracted by a conversation between a reporter and cameraman behind her.

"Just my luck," the reporter said, "I'm stuck here covering some school project while the biggest news story since 9/11 is going down."

"Nobodies going to watch this techno mumbo jumbo crap." The cameraman replied.

"Can you get the coverage on one of your monitors?"

"Yeah, I should be able to get the national feed."

Sarah caught Eddie's eye as she got up, but she waved him off as though nothing was wrong. She walked down a few seats across the back of the room until she could see the tiny monitor. There was no sound, but below a map of Nova Scotia, the dialogue for the hearing impaired. As a small red line extended from Nova Scotia toward the United States, the visual switched to a picture of the CAT ferry. Across the bottom of the monitor, the dialogue read, 'the alert level has been raised to red.'

"Oh my God," Sarah whispered.

"You're telling me," the reporter replied, "and we're missing the whole thing."

The visual switched to a picture of Josh.

"Josh?" Sarah gasped in disbelief. "What are you doing?"

"You know that guy?"

Sarah nodded. "He's Eddie's father."

The reporter looked toward the front of the room, then back at Sarah. "This Eddie?"

"Here," the cameraman said, holding out his earpiece, "have a listen."

Sarah held the earpiece to her ear.

"Suspected international terrorist Joshua Smith is allegedly attempting to smuggle what has been described as a dirty bomb into the United States via the Canadian CAT Ferry system. Homeland Security agents, working with the Canadian police, have confirmed that Mr. Smith boarded the ferry this morning. It is unclear at this time if there are passengers on the ferry, but we would have to assume there are. This just in, an unconfirmed report states that American Air Force F-16's just fired a salvo of air to surface missiles into the ferry. Yes, yes! We're getting confirmation that the ferry has been fired on and is sinking in the Gulf of Maine, approximately twenty miles off the coast of Bar Harbor, Maine."

Sarah shrieked and stumbled back against the wall. "Oh my God! Oh my God!" she repeated, shaking her head in disbelief. When she glanced up, the people sitting toward the back of the room were staring at her. She looked past them to Eddie who had stopped speaking.

"You okay, miss?" The reporter asked.

"He has to know." Sarah mumbled. She wiped her eyes and started toward the aisle.

"Did she say that terrorist was this kid's father?" The cameraman asked.

"Yeah," the reporter replied, "get your camera on her, we just might have something here."

All eyes in the room followed Sarah as she descended the stairs.

"What is it?" Eddie said as Sarah approached. "What's wrong?"

Sarah took Eddie in her arms and collapsed against his chest. At first she was facing the audience, but when she noticed their gawking faces, she looked away. She tightened her grip as Eddie tried to push her back. "It's Dad."

"What about Dad?"

"He's gone." Sarah looked up into Eddie's face.

Eddie wiped away her tears. "Hey, don't worry, we—"

"No Eddie, He's dead."

"You're wrong, he—"

"Was on the CAT Ferry, crossing from Yarmouth to Bar Harbor. They said he was trying to smuggle a bomb into the country and they—they—they—I can't." her head sank onto Eddie's chest. They were quiet, motionless for a time, just holding each other until Sarah felt a hand on her shoulder.

"What's happened?" Dr. Beasley whispered.

"Sarah said something's happened to Dad."

"It's on television." Sarah mumbled.

"Under the circumstances, do you want me to—"

"No! No thank you, Dr. Beasley, I started this and I intend to finish it. No one leaves."

Dr. Beasley nodded.

Eddie looked down at Sarah. "Stay here?"

"Alright."

Eddie stepped away from her, reached up and turned on one of the overhead televisions. "I hope you'll excuse the interruption, we've just received news that there has been an incident off the coast of Maine." Eddie led Sarah over to the first row and they sat down next to Dr. Beasley.

Sarah could no longer maintain her composure as she heard the story repeated. Eddie's grip tightened around her as they reported the ferry sunk quickly taking all on board. In typical media fashion, the two anchors began a completely uninformed dialogue on Josh's suspected ties with known terrorists. They went on to report 'unidentified U. S. government sources' claimed Josh was trying to smuggle a dirty bomb into the United States. As the senseless speculation continued, Sarah felt Eddie's remorse turn to anger. She had heard all she could stand when Eddie leaned over and kissed her. He pushed her back and stood.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Eddie said as he walked over and turned off the television. "If you bear with me a moment, I will shed some light on the situation in Maine and how it relates to what we are doing here today."

Concerned, almost fearful, whispers spread through the room. The tension was unmistakable.

Eddie pointed toward the back of the room. "Skip?"

"Skip Lee." The reporter replied.

"Can you get us on live? I'd like to make a statement about Maine and our little gathering."

"You bet! Give me a minute."

While Skip busied himself with the live feed, the room became noisy. The conversations were mixed between the situation in Maine and the engine they had seen, but the overall tone was confusion—fear. After a few minutes, Skip hurried down the aisle and joined Eddie at the front of the room.

"Okay, we're in commercial, we'll be going live in a few minutes. I'll do a brief introduction, then you'll have the floor. Is the terrorist really your father?"

"He's not a terrorist!" Eddie clinched his fist.

Okay, okay." Skip looked over at Sarah. "Hey, get her up here with you, she'll add appeal."

Eddie glared at Skip as Sarah eased into next to him.

"Hey, it couldn't hurt. I take it you're planning to go up against the United States Government. You've got one chance to convince the viewers that you're not some crackpot—one chance. It's my business, I know what I'm talking about." He made a motion toward Sarah as though he were fluffing his hair.

"Okay, but I want your cameraman to scan the audience while I'm—"

"Ah, very clever, refute deniability."

"You got it."

"Then this engine thing is legit?"

"Damn right! For now it looks like my dad gave his life to make sure people know about it."

The cameraman interrupted, "In five, four, three, two, and we're live."

Eddie wrapped his arm around Sarah and pulled her closer. "We have to do this for Dad," he whispered.

A nod was all Sarah could manage.

"Good afternoon. I'm Skip Lee, Channel 34 News, reporting live from the Lowe's Motor Speedway in Charlotte, North Carolina where Clemson graduate student Edward Smith has just revealed a revolutionary new engine to automakers." Skip nodded to the cameraman who started a slow pan over the audience. Skip winked at Eddie. "Mr. Smith."

"Eddie."

"All right, Eddie. Is it true that suspected terrorist Joshua Smith is your father?"

"That's correct, Skip, but he's no terrorist."

"That's a bold statement, given what we've all just witnessed."

"My father was working on an alternative to the internal combustion engine. He was successful. I'd like everyone to see what he helped accomplish."

Skip followed Eddie and Sarah over to the cutaway of the engine. "Keep it simple." He whispered.

Eddie nodded, then continued as the camera zoomed in on the engine. "What you see here is an engine, available today, that is simple, quiet, inexpensive to operate and does not pollute one bit. You heard right. Ladies, that quart container of Crisco oil in your cupboard, this baby will run over one hundred thousand miles on six of them. And, that's just the beginning. One of these engines could heat and cool your house as well as provide all the electricity your home could need for mere pennies. Forget your fuel bills, your electric bills, today a new era of energy is born."

Skip spoke in a deeper tone as though he thought it would add drama. "Can you tell us how your father was involved and how the recent developments off the coast of Maine relate?"

Eddie glanced down at Sarah. "For the last six months, my father and I, with the help of my team, have been working to bring this invention to fruition. It was my father's dream that the people benefit from this discovery, not corporations and governments. But, for the last six months, we have also been trying to elude the United States Government and their efforts to keep this technology from the people." Eddie pointed toward the camera. "Your Government, The Department of Homeland Security, has been acting to protect the corporate interests in our country at your expense. Today, I declare freedom from the oil industry, from corporate greed, from government greed."

"Could you clarify what you believe happened off the coast?"

"As I stated, Homeland Security agents have been hounding my family with only one thought, stop this from becoming public knowledge. Shortly after they killed my mother, my father was forced into hiding, but my brother and I continued his work in secret while they pursued him. Once we had a working prototype, I contacted Dr. Beasley, of Clemson University, where I am working toward my Masters Degree. We assembled a team of top notch students to build what you see on the track today.

Earlier this week, Homeland Security Agents raided my apartment, threatening to end our effort." Eddie hugged Sarah. "Apparently, my father felt he needed to draw them away so we could make this presentation. It appears to have cost him his life. My dad was no hero, but a champion for the little guy, and his vision will usher in the beginning of a new era, one free from the expense and pollution of fossil fuels. Say goodbye to global warming."

"That is quite a claim. When can we expect to benefit from the fruits of your labor?"

Eddie spun the cone. "Now!" He paused. "Later today, Clemson University will donate one of these vehicles to each car maker in attendance. By the end of the day, foreign as-well-as domestic automakers will all have an equal footing with the new engine. While I'm sure there can be improvements, I urge the auto industry to make this engine available as quickly as possible. After all, it's hard to beat free, and who among you is going to purchase a car knowing this is available?" Eddie turned toward the audience. "I challenge you to bring this technology to the people within six months, and I pledge Clemson's support to that end."

The camera panned over the executives as they stood and applauded.

Skip's voice squeaked with excitement. "You heard it first on Channel 34 News! I'm Skip Lee, live from the Lowe's Motor Speedway."

"And out." The cameraman said.

Dr. Beasley turned and addressed the audience as the applause subsided. "We're going to adjourn trackside where you can get a first hand look at this marvelous piece of equipment. There are vans waiting to take you to the garage area and Mr. Smith will join you shortly to answer all your questions." Dr. Beasley turned to Eddie and Sarah as everyone started toward the back of the room. "We did it, son. We actually pulled this off."

Eddie wrapped his arms around Sarah and Dr. Beasley and gave them a bear hug. "But at what cost?"

"I'm so sorry, Edward, but through our continued effort, we can immortalize your father."

"I think I'd rather go fishing with him one more time." Eddie said.

They were the last ones out, and Dr. Beasley locked the door behind them. It was a short trip through the tunnel to the garage area. Sarah caught Eddie's smile as a photographer raced to the edge of pit wall to take a picture of Peter as he drove past holding a huge Clemson flag out the window. Sarah stayed by Eddie's side as he answered questions until Caitlin and the boys brought the cars into the pits. At the Dean's request, each took one of the executives on a lap around the track. This created a bit of a lull between excursions.

Sarah took a moment to gather herself and said, "You should tell them what's happened."

"I will." Eddie replied.

"I'm just afraid—well I just think it would be better if they hear it from you, especially Caitlin."

"I know."

The picture on tomorrow's front page would be a composite of Josh, the CAT Ferry, Eddie's team gathered in prayer and Peter driving the Clemson flag down the front stretch.

By late afternoon, the infield had turned into a media frenzy. Eddie always made sure the entire team was included in each photo session. One-by-one their miracle cars were loaded on a flatbed and hauled away. Shortly after nightfall, the team gathered around the old truck and watched their last creation disappear into the tunnel.

Sarah looked up into Eddie's eyes. "Do you really think they will build them?"

"I don't think they have much choice now. All it takes is one and the others will have to in order to stay in business."

Sarah stroked his chest and rested her head against him. "I hope so."

"Dudes!" Matt yelled. "How the hell we gettin' home?"

"Yeah," Peter laughed, "that was the last of them." They were all tired and their predicament struck them as funny. Soon, they were in hysterics.

In his deepest, stern, southern voice Matt said, "Seriously, we're fucked."

"I don't think so," Sarah said, dangling keys in front of them. "Dr. Beasley left one of the vans for us. Oh, by the way, he made dinner reservations for us in—" Sarah glanced down at her watch, "an hour. You all better hop to or we'll be late."

"Sweeeet." Matt crooned. "I'm totally down with some grub."

"You mind bringing the truck Matt?" Eddie asked.

"No problemo, I'll follow.

"I'll ride with you Matt." Caitlin said.

"Dude." Matt bobbed his brow. "Sweeeeet." Matt and Caitlin hopped up in the cab as the others headed for the van.

"Wait." Eddie said. "What about the display?"

"Don't worry," Sarah said, "Dr. Beasley had everything taken back to Clemson. I think he was going to have it put on display in the lobby of the Engineering Building. By the way, he said 'congratulations, you passed.'"

* * *

The festive atmosphere at dinner was tempered by the uncertainty about Josh, but Eddie kept telling them that they shouldn't assume the worst. It wasn't like their father not to have a way out of a situation. Deep down, Sarah couldn't help feel that maybe this _was_ Josh's way out.

"Hey," Eddie whispered in her ear, "you okay?"

"Just tired."

Eddie began rolling a quarter between his fingers.

"You still fooling around with that? You're never going to be a magician."

Eddie winked.

"Look!" Matt said as he stood and pointed toward the television over the bar. "We're on T.V. Hey! Turn it up."

The bartender turned up the volume and they listened to the report on how an investigation had been initiated into the tragic sinking of a Canadian CAT Ferry. Josh was only mentioned as a possible passenger. The report went on to say that Al-Qaeda had claimed responsibility for the sinking. There was a short clip of the presentation and the cars cruising around the track. They caught a brief bit of an economist speculating on the potential impact to the stock market before the bartender switched to the ball game.

Eddie stood and held out his hand. "I've got one more thing before we wrap this up."

"Dude," Matt whined when Eddie held up a quarter, "anybody can do that trick."

"I don't think so." Eddie pulled Sarah to her feet.

"What are you doing?"

"Watch the quarter carefully." Eddie rolled it back and forth between his fingers and as it stared back toward his thumb, it turned into a ring.

Sarah gasped, her face flushed with heat. "Oh, my God."

Eddie held it out to her as he sank to one knee. "We're a team, marry me."

### The End

I want to take this opportunity to thank you for spending your valuable time reading my work. I truly hope you enjoyed Perpetual Motion. This is my first venture into this genre and a book review is a great way to let me know if you enjoyed the story.

Stay tuned for the conclusion of Perpetual Motion. With their remarkable machine made public, the source of energy as we know it has changed forever, or has it? Find out what happens when a discovery this revolutionary runs head long into global politics. Will Eddie and Sarah be able to hold on to one another through the struggles that lie ahead? Love and politics play out in Off The Grid, coming in late 2015.

Thanks for your support,

Lari

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