21: The Approaching Storm

<body topmargin=0 leftmargin=0 marginheight=0 marginwidth=0> <table cellpadding=0 cellspacing=0 border=0><tr> <td valign="top" colspan=2 height=90 BGCOLOR="#CC9900" TEXT="#080000" bgproperties="fixed" background="047005a0dwnjzk.gif"> <div> <A HREF="index.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Cassies Writing"><U><B>home</B></U></A><B>     | </B><B> </B><B> </B><B>  </B><FONT SIZE="5" COLOR="#FFCC66" FACE="Arial" ><B>Cassie's Writing</B></FONT></div> <div> <A HREF="id109.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="1: Stolen Memories"><U><B>1:  Stolen Memories</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id110.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="2: A Complex Puzzle"><U><B>2:  A Complex Puzzle</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id111.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="3: Peeling the Onion"><U><B>3:  Peeling the Onion</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id112.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="4: Secrets Revealed"><U><B>4:  Secrets Revealed</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id113.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="5: Going Home Again"><U><B>5:  Going Home Again</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id114.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="6: ThingintheBox"><U><B>6:  Thing-in-the-Box</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id116.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="7: Challenging the Leviathan"><U><B>7:  Challenging the Leviathan</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id117.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="8: Circling the Wagons"><U><B>8:  Circling the Wagons</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id118.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="9: Jebs Curse"><U><B>9:  Jeb's Curse</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id119.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="10: Spell of Jealousy"><U><B>10:  Spell of Jealousy</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id120.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="11: Carrying the Weight"><U><B>11:  Carrying the Weight</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id121.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="12: A Fiendish New Year"><U><B>12:  A Fiendish New Year</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id122.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="13: Barnabas Crisis"><U><B>13:  Barnabas' Crisis</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id123.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="14: Barnabas in Parallel Time"><U><B>14:  Barnabas in Parallel Time</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id124.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="15: Clues to Disaster"><U><B>15:  Clues to Disaster</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id125.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="16: Demons Possession"><U><B>16:  Demon's Possession</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id126.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="17: Breach of Trust"><U><B>17:  Breach of Trust</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id127.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="18: Labyrinth of Emotions"><U><B>18:  Labyrinth of Emotions</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id128.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="19: The Amanda Dilemma"><U><B>19:  The Amanda Dilemma</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id129.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="20: Ziganas Cure"><U><B>20:  Zigana's Cure</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><B>21:  The Approaching Storm</B><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id131.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="22: Enigma at Collinwood"><U><B>22:  Enigma at Collinwood</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id132.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="23: Reunion in Hell"><U><B>23:  Reunion in Hell</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id133.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="24: Scattered Through Time"><U><B>24:  Scattered Through Time</B></U></A></div> <div> </div> </td> </tr><tr> <td valign="top" width=210 BGCOLOR="#FFFFFF" TEXT="#080000"> <div> <B>21:  The Approaching Storm</B></div> <div> <A HREF="id107.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Alternate Destiny"><U><B>Alternate Destiny</B></U></A></div> </td> <td valign="top" height=390 BGCOLOR="#FFFFFF" TEXT="#080000"> <div> There was still no word about Lisa's whereabouts.  Chris quietly told Quentin that he and Sabrina wanted to go to Cuddeback and wait for the end of the school year before taking Amy up to Collinsport.  This way, he could make sure he'd get through one full moon cycle-one way or the other.  Quentin nodded; it made sense, and he'd reluctantly concluded that he was going to have to go to Albany and try to get Amanda to tell him where Lisa had gone.  Now that she was sober maybe she'd be willing to tell him whom she'd really been dealing with if it wasn't Mr. Best.  On Sunday, the Chris, Sabrina, and Amy went south and Quentin went north, regretting his decision now to leave his motorcycle behind.  </div> <div> He borrowed Joe's car for the trip.  It wasn't a great distance away, about two hours or so, but it was a wasted trip.  Olivia Corey had checked herself out and disappeared.</div> <bR> <div> The weeks passed.  It was June, and the full moon was approaching.  If the cure had taken, they'd decided they would return to Collinsport and have Amy see Professor Stokes.  After they'd been back in Cuddeback a week, Quentin called Collinwood.  Mrs. Johnson answered with new warmth and friendliness that hadn't been there before they found out they had something in common.  </div> <div> He asked for Elizabeth.  "Quentin!  How are you, dear?"</div> <div>      "Fine, fine," he answered, going through the preliminary prerequisite greetings.  Everyone and everything was fine.  "Have you heard from Julia or Barnabas?"</div> <div>      "Yes, Julia says that she is concerned about Barnabas' condition.  He seems to be worsening and she is seeking help from the Russian doctors.  I didn't understand everything she told me.  I'm just a little concerned about the two of them travelling around the Soviet Union.  I'm afraid the KGB will swoop down on them."</div> <div>      "Oh, I wouldn't worry about either one of them," he reassured her, thinking that the KGB would be very surprised and sorry indeed if they tried to swoop down on Barnabas.</div> <div>      "I suppose you're right.  When are you planning on coming back from Cuddeback, Quentin?"</div> <div>      "In a few weeks.  I'll call you back before I leave."</div> <div>      "All right then.  Enjoy yourself down there."</div> <div>      He hung up and then called Professor Stokes. He hadn't talked to the old gentleman since the night of Roger's speech-when everyone had returned from the past.  Fortunately, the professor was home.  "Quentin, it's good to hear from you."</div> <div>      "Professor, how are you?  What do you think of this trip Julia's taking with Barnabas?"</div> <div>      "I recommended it to her.  I thought it might be helpful under the circumstances, if you follow my meaning.  I have done some research on that particular area, and there have been some astonishing accounts coming from Eastern Europe--which is where this particular blood condition originated, as you know."</div> <div>      He was surprised.  "Then there's hope?"</div> <div>      "There is always hope, Quentin.  I have the feeling you called me with something else on your mind."</div> <div>      "Are you clairvoyant as well?"  Quentin laughed.  "Actually, yes, I did.  I was calling about Amy."</div> <div>      "Precocious child."</div> <div>      "More than that.  She's clairvoyant, too.  She seems to have 'second sight'."</div> <div>      "I suspected as much.  And?"</div> <div>      "And I wondered if you might have time to work with her this summer.  Sabrina told me how much you'd helped her, and she and Chris are concerned about her.  I am too, to tell you the truth."</div> <div>      "Are they planning to return for the summer?  My schedule isn't terribly busy, so I would be happy to work with the child.  I imagine you are talking about teaching her how to use her skills?"</div> <div>      "Right.  That would be great.  We'll all probably be back once school lets out down here."</div> <div>      "Very good, Quentin.  I'll look forward to hearing from you then."</div> <div>      Well, that was taken care of.  With any luck, Julia and Barnabas would still be away, and he wouldn't have to worry about seeing them.  He remembered what Jenny had said though.  Be patient.  It would take a while--how long?  Maybe they'd bring Beth back with them when they returned.  He didn't want to get his hopes up too far, though, so he put that thought out of his mind and went to tell Chris and Sabrina that Stokes was willing to work with Amy this summer.</div> <bR> <div>      The first night of the full moon, Quentin decided he'd walk with Chris to the bomb shelter and lock him in.  "I'll come back to check on you, and if you're still you I'll let you out."</div> <div>      "No, no, I don't want to take a chance on that, man.  Just come back in the morning like always," Chris objected.</div> <div>      "All right, but you might want to take something with you--a radio, some beer, chips, a book," he suggested.</div> <div>      "But what if--" Chris began.</div> <div>      "So what?  You trash the place a little.  What if you don't change?  What are you gonna do all night? Don't you have any faith in Zigana, Chris?"</div> <div>      "I'm afraid to, man.  Don't you understand?  We've tried so many other things!"</div> <div>      "Yes, I understand," he said, and he did.  He knew well the frustration of failed plans.  "Get the stuff anyway, willya?"</div> <div>      Chris did.  Amy didn't ask where Chris went; Sabrina made some vague explanation that Chris had to go into New Jersey on some "business".  The three of them played cards late into the night.  Quentin showed them how to play a quicker version of gin using five cards instead of seven.</div> <div>      When Quentin walked into his cabin, the first thing he smelled was pot.  Puzzled, he turned the light on and there was Amanda, sleeping in his bed.  A crushed roach in the ashtray still smelled strongly of burning rope.  Dismayed, he went to the bed and sat next to her, shaking her shoulder.  "Amanda, Amanda!"  he called softly.</div> <div>      Slowly she roused.  Recognizing him, she smiled and reached for him.  "Casts are off," she said sleepily.  "Come here."</div> <div>      Reluctantly, he sat down beside her.  "Amanda, what're you doing here?"</div> <div>      "Oh, man, that prison in Albany sucked," she answered contemptuously.</div> <div>      "You shouldn't have left."</div> <div>      "I didn't break any laws.  They didn't have any right to keep me there, although they tried to."</div> <div>      "Ah, jeez, Amanda..."</div> <div>      "Oh, Quentin, come on, don't be such a drag about this. "  Amanda sat up and pouted.  She looked thin and frazzled, nothing like the beauty she'd been six months ago.  Whoever she'd bargained with was really making her life and her looks hell.</div> <div>      "How'd you get here?"</div> <div>      "I hitchhiked to Port Jervis.  I walked most of the way here before someone stopped and gave me a ride.  So I see you're still out in this stinky little cabin?"</div> <div>      "I let Chris and Sabrina and Amy have the main house, remember?  They're here more often than me anyway."</div> <div>      "Actually, that's okay.  It gives us privacy."</div> <div>      "No, Amanda.  You can't stay here.  You've got to go back."</div> <div>      She bolted upright abruptly.  "Don't you make me!  If you try, I'll be out of here so fast, your head'll spin and then no one will find me!"</div> <div>      "Amanda--" He wanted to try and reason with her, but she interrupted him by kissing him very passionately.</div> <div>      "I missed you so much," she said, when he managed to part from her.</div> <div>      "I missed you too," he answered, lying.  He wanted her to tell him where Lisa was, and he wanted to know who or what he was dealing with in terms of Amanda's "pact".  She moved closer to him, pulling at his tee shirt.  "No, listen, why don't we just lie together and talk?  I want you to tell me why you didn't want to stay at the hospital in Albany.  What did you do?  Just sign yourself out?"</div> <div>      "Just signed myself out, that's right.  Told them where to stick their program.  You know what they were doing every damn day?  Getting us up out of bed at the crack of dawn and sitting in a circle, looking at each other talking about shit.  Who wants to talk about shit at six in the morning?  'What's eating at you?' 'Nothing.' 'Bullshit.  Then why are you here?' 'I don't know.' 'Bullshit.  Why are you here?'"</div> <div>      Quentin had to laugh.  He'd never known Amanda to use such crude profanities until recently and figured it had to be the drugs.   Amanda could imitate voices and accents very well, and she was switching back and forth from a child's voice to a stern adult voice.  "It's all just crap, Quentin.  You see what I mean?  All they do is talk about how you feel and why you want to use and what bad stuff you do in order to use and when you do talk, all they can say is 'Bullshit.'  Who needs it?  I'm not an addict.  I don't have to use that shit."</div> <div>      "Have you?" he asked.</div> <div>      "Hell, no.  And I don't even want to, especially now that I'm here.  We never really had a chance together, did we?"  She began to caress him, stroking his neck.  He caught her hand.  "You're really upset about this, aren't you?"</div> <div>      "Amanda, where is Lisa?"</div> <div>      "Who?" Amanda asked blankly.  Quentin gave her an infuriated look and she smiled at him slyly.  "Oh, your grand-daughter, right? How would I know where she is?  I was in the hospital."</div> <div>      "But you know where she wanted to go," he insisted.</div> <div>      "Yes, would you like me to tell you that?" she asked, in a teasing, girlish voice.  "You have to do something for me first."  He began to object, but then Amanda rose up and pushed him back, climbing on top of him.  When he tried to speak, she covered his mouth with hers.  As always, he gave up, knowing full well this was the wrong thing to do.  But if it would get her to tell him where Lisa was, he'd fuck her brains out.  He wouldn't think about whatever weird deal she'd made with-whoever or whatever.</div> <div>      Amanda was insatiable, and he wondered if she hadn't snorted a little cocaine.  She wanted him twice more in the night.  "Give me what I want, and I'll give you what you want."  Just before dawn she gave him the name of an agent in Los Angeles, but he was too exhausted to call anyone.  In the morning, he woke to pounding at the door.  It was Chris.  "Hey, Quentin!  You forgot me, man!  Get your sorry ass up!"</div> <div>      "Your great grandson is a positively <I>charming</I> person!"  Amanda complained, rousing.</div> <div>      "Oh, shit," Quentin grumbled himself, getting up and pulling on his jeans.  "Wait a minute, Chris!" he called.  It was already too late.  Chris, expecting to find only Quentin, had opened the door.  "Damn!" Quentin exclaimed.  Chris looked very surprised and embarrassed and started to shut the door. "Wait, Chris!"  Quentin went with him outside and shut the door behind him.  "Look, I'm sorry," he began.</div> <div>      "Where'd she come from, Quentin?" Chris asked.  Then his eyes widened.  "Is that Amanda?"</div> <div>      Quentin shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded.  "What happened last night?"</div> <div>      "Nothing. I ate the chips, I drank the beer, I played solitaire until I wanted to puke and then I fell asleep," Chris replied shrugging.  Then he whooped in excitement.  "It worked!"</div> <div>      Quentin grinned, pleased.  He'd been confident in Zigana's abilities, but he'd still had a niggling, nagging fear that something would go wrong.  "So you feel all right about tonight?  Or do you want to put yourself through another boring night?"</div> <div>      "I want to look at the moon and party!"  Chris exclaimed. He and Quentin exchanged high fives.  Then Chris cast a troubled glance at the door.  "What are you going to do about her, man?  Isn't she supposed to be in some drug rehab program?"</div> <div>      "Yes.  I'm going to have to take her back--but I'm not going to tell her that.  Don't say anything about it, will you?"</div> <div>      "Not about that, I won't--of course.  What are we going to tell Sabrina about her, though?"</div> <div>      "Tell her the truth, I guess."</div> <div>      "I don't know, man.  Amy's here, too," Chris objected.</div> <div>      "All right-tell you what.  I'll split with her now.  I'll take her back up to Albany.  You guys go on to Collinwood, and I'll meet you there."</div> <div>      "All right, man-I mean, I'm sorry to do this, but you understand.  I don't want Amy seeing her like that."</div> <div>      "Sure, sure, I understand," Quentin agreed.</div> <div>      He went in and merely told Amanda he was taking her out for breakfast but that he had to make a phone call first.  "Fine," she said flatly.  "I'm starving."</div> <div>      Quentin walked up to the main house to call Dan Price.  He gave the name of the man in Los Angeles that Lisa was supposed to have connected with.  Price said he'd call the LA Police Department.  Quentin called the rehabilitation center next and told them he was bringing Amanda back.  Chris and Sabrina quietly went about their business, not saying a word.</div> <div>      When he came outside, Quentin was startled to see Amy standing on the porch of the main house, watching Amanda.  Amanda was sitting on the step of the cabin, staring off into space.  Amy looked very troubled. "I'm taking her back," he said to her softly.</div> <div>      Amy looked at Amanda out of the corner of her eyes and then directly at Quentin. "Don't do it, Quentin.  She may seem nice but she's really, really dangerous."  </div> <div> He was floored.  He took her hand and squeezed it.  "Don't worry about me.  I'll see you in Collinsport."</div> <div>      "You can't help her, Quentin," Amy told him.  "You're wasting your time."  She pulled her hand out of Quentin's and went back into the house.  The kid was spooky, he thought.</div> <div>      Amanda looked up when Quentin approached her.  "Come on," he said.  "Let's eat."</div> <bR> <div>      Amanda didn't suspect anything was wrong until Quentin passed the exit for Hunter Mountain and continued up the New York Thruway.  They'd been on the road for almost two hours, and she hammered his shoulder.  "Where are you going?" she yelled into his ear. </div> <div>      "I'm taking you back, Amanda," he yelled back.</div> <div>      "No!" she hit him painfully on the shoulder again.</div> <div>      "Do it again, and you'll get us killed!"  He had a thought.  "Look, I'll make you a deal-you tell me who you dealt with and I won't take you back."</div> <div>      Silence.  Then, Amanda yelled furiously, "Fine, but you'll be sorry, Quentin!  Pull over at the next rest stop!"  He did what she said and she immediately slid off the bike.  "Meet me in the restaurant.  I have to go to the bathroom."</div> <div>      He watched her go into the ladies room and then went to a phone to call Katie.     "The police just called from Los Angeles!" Katie wept into the phone.  "They found her!"</div> <div>      "Is she all right?"</div> <div>      "I don't know-they hadn't brought her in.  They were just calling to let me know that they'd picked her up and that she was all right!"</div> <div>      <I>Good old Dan,</I> Quentin thought, relieved.  The next step would be to get some help for Lisa.  He hung up after a few more minutes, bought a Coke at the restaurant and waited.  He looked at his watch.  Amanda was taking a long time, he realized.  <I>Oh, shit!</I>  He went to the door of the ladies' room and knocked.  "Amanda?"  There was no answer.  He looked around the rest stop until he found a cleaning woman who would go in and bring Amanda out.</div> <div>      The woman came back and gave Quentin an irritated look.  "They ain't no one in there, mister," she said.  <I>Oh hell!</I> He thought.  Well, that was it.  He'd gone as far as he could with Amanda, and as far as he was concerned, they were finished. He had no idea who she'd made her deal with-the Devil maybe, but that was definitely all her problem now.  It no longer had anything to do with him.  She didn't want to be helped, and Lisa was on her way home.  He walked out of the rest area, changed directions, and headed for Collinsport.</div> <bR> <div>      It was a long, strange summer.  Elizabeth and Roger permitted him to open up the West Wing and move back into his old room.  In fact, they were talking about renovating that entire portion of the house.  They were going to piggyback the expenses and share the costs of renovating the Old House.  "The Old House?" Quentin asked blankly.</div> <div>      "Barnabas has finally decided to join the rest of us in the twentieth century!" Roger exclaimed with a laugh.  "The whole place will be crawling with contractors.  Are you quite sure you want to move into that particular suite of rooms just yet?  Perhaps it would be better to wait until the repairs are completed."</div> <div>      "No, it's all right, I'll be writing.  The noise won't bother me."</div> <div>      Roger arched his eyebrow but said nothing.  He'd always had a little difficulty with the idea of a working writer in the family.  Quentin knew it didn't seem like `real work' to him.</div> <div>      "Really?  What are you writing?" Elizabeth asked with interest.  "Another article?"</div> <div>      "No, a book," Quentin answered.  He was driven to do it, especially closeting himself up in his room for hours at a time.  He did it partly to get it out of his system and partly to keep himself occupied.  He'd never tried to write a book before.  He'd written plenty of articles and short stories, but this was his first attempt at a horror novel, and he was totally engrossed almost around the clock.  It was his account of what had happened here during Judah Zachary's haunting.  Technically, it hadn't happened so no one would recognize it for what it was-except for Willie, Professor Stokes, Barnabas and Julia.</div> <div>      Quentin knew he was missing the entire summer but he didn't care.  He passed on invitations to go sailing and to the beach from David, Hallie, and Carolyn.  He declined to go out to dinner with Chris and Sabrina.  Many times, he missed meals and was annoyed when Mrs. Johnson came knocking at his door, interrupting him.  "Well, you need to eat!" she scolded.  "You look like the underbelly of a fish and you're nothing but skin and bones!"  When he did come to join the family, he was almost immediately impatient to be away.  </div> <div> Chris came to visit with Sabrina, telling him that Amy was doing very well with Professor Stokes; she liked him a lot.  "Hey, man, you really don't look so good," Chris said, sounding a little worried.  "Why don't you come out and have a drink with us?"</div> <div> "No thanks," Quentin said.  He talked to Katie frequently and fretted because there was no word from Barnabas and Julia.  Jenny said to wait.  They would bring Beth back.  But when?  In the meantime, he wrote.  Mrs. Johnson brought him a message one day from Chris and he was shocked to realize that Memorial Day weekend was looming ahead.  Chris, Sabrina, and Amy were getting ready to go back to Cuddeback and wanted Quentin to come to the caretaker's cottage to talk about their plans.  Quentin had a thick stack of typewritten pages and decided to drop them off to Professor Stokes to see what he thought of the story.</div> <div> "Quentin, you look like a vampire," Professor Stokes told him wryly, and Quentin grimaced.  "I'm sorry-I'm afraid that was a very bad joke.  You are very pale, my friend.  You've been working hard at this, haven't you?"</div> <div> "I guess so.  I just wanted to see if you thought it was a good ghost story."</div> <div> The professor arched his brow.  "I consider it an honor that you'd ask me to read it."  Quentin excused himself, but Stokes went on, "What happened between you and Barnabas?"</div> <div> "Nothing," Quentin lied.</div> <div> "I am afraid I caused a falling out between the two of you."  Stokes looked genuinely distressed.</div> <div> "No.  Not at all," Quentin mumbled.  "If you'll excuse me, I'm kind of late."</div> <div> "All right, I won't press you.  Julia and Barnabas said the same thing.  I didn't believe them either."  The professor sounded sad and almost wistful, still being left out of the truth of things.</div> <bR> <div> Sabrina had dinner under way already when Quentin arrived.  Looking around, it was no wonder the little family was ready to go back to Cuddeback.  He'd forgotten how tiny the cottage was, especially with a child living there.  Amy slept on the sofa in the living room all summer.  She had a different air about her and seemed more grown up.  David and Hallie were going away to school for the first time this fall; she'd already been going to public school for quite some time now and felt very grown up about it.  "You look like shit," Chris told Quentin quietly, and handed him a beer.  <I>Gee, thanks,</I> Quentin thought.  How nice of everyone to remark on how well he looked.</div> <div>      After the dishes were cleared and put away, Amy turned the radio on, very loud, blasting the Jackson 5.  Quentin grimaced.  "Bubblegum pop!" he said contemptuously.</div> <div>      Chris laughed.  "It's not THAT bad, man."</div> <div>      "It's not real Motown either," Quentin complained.</div> <div>      "Listen, man, I want to ask you a favor," Chris began.  He'd gone to the refrigerator for more beer for himself and Quentin.  He didn't ask Sabrina if she wanted one as he usually did, which was a surprise.  He did bring Sabrina a ginger ale.  The three of them sat at the tiny table while Amy bopped around the room to the music.  Quentin looked at Chris expectantly.  Chris took Sabrina's hand in his.  "I'm gonna tell you a little secret, Quentin.  Sabrina's pregnant."</div> <div>      That was the last thing Quentin had expected to hear, although now that he thought about it-why would it be?  They looked delighted, so it must be good news.  He smiled, because that's what was expected, and tried to feel happy for them.  "That's great!  When?"</div> <div>      "Saint Patrick's day, thereabouts," Chris answered.  "We just found out for sure today-from the doctor, I mean."</div> <div>      "March 17th," Sabrina said simultaneously.  They both laughed.  Quentin put on the "pasted" smile.  Sabrina cleared her throat and went on, "Chris asked me to marry him."</div> <div>      Quentin looked at Chris.  Another surprise.  Chris was grinning like an idiot, from happiness and too much beer.  "Congratulations," he said.</div> <div>      "That's the favor I wanted to ask you, Quentin," Chris said.  "You see, Sabrina and I were going to have a little wedding in Port Jervis.  We don't know a LOT of people, but we've made a few friends.  So Sabrina's got a maid of honor, but-well, we didn't know when you'd be back or if, but I still don't have a best man-"</div> <div>      Quentin groaned inwardly, but kept smiling.  "When?"</div> <div>      "Saturday-September 30th," Sabrina said with a big smile.  Amy's going to be the flower girl."</div> <div>      "Who's giving you away?"</div> <div>      "Ned."</div> <div>      "Ned?"  Quentin looked at Chris with surprise.  </div> <div>      Chris shrugged.  "How could he say no?  He knows he's going to be an uncle now.  He knows Sabrina and I have been together a year-no monthly weirdness anymore.  Besides, he agrees that it wouldn't look right for Amy to have a nephew or niece out-of-wedlock."</div> <div>      Quentin wondered what kind of an impression living together without benefit of a marriage license was making on Amy but elected not to say anything about it.  "Well, Chris, I would be honored to be your best man," he said.  "How formal is this going to be?  Tux? Or what?"</div> <div>      "Hell, nothing like that.  We're just going to have a really small wedding.  Maybe a barbecue here later, if you don't mind."</div> <div>      "Why would I mind?  Hell, Chris, you can have a big party there if you want to."</div> <div>      "We don't," Sabrina quickly put in.  "We just wanted something simple.  Ned and his wife Jean'll take Amy for the week while we're gone."</div> <div>      "How long will you be gone?"  Quentin asked.  He was feeling more and more depressed.  He hoped none of that was showing, though.</div> <div>      "A week.  That's all."</div> <div>      "How about the Collinses?  Are you going to invite them?" Quentin got up and went to the refrigerator, looking for more beer.  </div> <div>      Chris cleared his throat uncomfortably.  "Well, we thought about it, but-I don't know that they'd come.  I mean, they don't know us well."  He stopped.</div> <div>      Amy stopped bopping.  "You mean they don't know we're related."</div> <div>      Quentin drank down half the beer.  He'd forgotten about that.  He could just see it: <I>by the way Liz and Roger, not only am I your cousin, I have some other relatives to introduce you to-Chris and Amy Jennings.</I>  He very quickly finished off the rest of the beer.  <I>I'm jealous, geez,</I> he realized.  "I didn't mean to scarf down all your beer," he said, somewhat sheepishly.  "I'll go in town and pick up some more."</div> <div>      "You don't have to do that, man," Chris said.  "I can go."</div> <div>      "I want to."</div> <div>      "Well, you've kind of had a lot already," Chris objected.</div> <div>      "Do you think I'm drunk, Chris?  I'm a little high, but I'm not drunk."</div> <div>      Chris looked as if he might object again, but then he reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys.  "Look, do me a favor and take my car, willya?  Better you should be behind the wheel of a two ton car than a dinky little motorcycle if you're gonna drive high."</div> <div>      Quentin sighed.  He didn't feel like arguing.  "All right."  He drove into Collinsport and stopped at the liquor store.  He bought a little of everything so that he could become gloriously drunk-a lot of beer, some brandy, and a pint of whiskey.   When he got back to the cottage, he left the keys and a six pack of the beer in Chris' car and carried the rest of it to the west wing.</div> <div>      In the wee hours of the morning, he found that he was very drunk but also unable to sleep.  He felt too confined staying in his room any longer, so he took the brandy bottle with him and made his way outside.  He was going to be very sick in the morning, he could tell.  He'd drunk one of the six packs, following it with shots of whisky.  When that hadn't caused him to pass out, he'd tried drinking the whisky mixed with seven-up first and then straight on the rocks.  Now he was breaking into the brandy.</div> <div>      He'd walked all the way back to the cottage.  It was dark; everyone must be asleep.  He climbed onto the hood of Chris' car and looked up at the stars.  Tilting his head back made him feel dizzy, so he lay back dangling his legs over the side of the car. At least he didn't feel like he was going to roll off onto the ground.  He wondered if Beth was sleeping or awake, and if she was awake-was she looking at the stars, too?  Did they look any different from where she was, or were they close enough together that they looked the same?  He sighed.</div> <div> He started to unscrew the top of the brandy bottle.</div> <div>      "I'm sorry you're so sad, Quentin," Amy said from nearby.</div> <div>      Quentin jumped and nearly rolled off the car onto the ground.  "Jesus Christ, Amy!" </div> <div>      "I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to scare you," Amy said apologetically.  She stepped out of the shadows and leaned against the car.  He could make out her features just a little bit.  "You're drinking a lot, aren't you?"  It was more an observation than a question and there was no hint of criticism.  "It's because you're lonely, I know."</div> <div>      "You know too much for a little girl, you know that?  You're a spooky kid," he complained.  He was probably being rude, he realized, but the booze and his taut nerves made it difficult to be polite.</div> <div>      "I know," she agreed.  She didn't seem to feel hurt.  "I can't help it.  It just happens."</div> <div>      "I know you can't help it, Amy, I'm sorry."</div> <div>      "Don't be sorry.  I just wanted to tell you to try not to be so sad.  She's coming back. You know that-don't you?  Don't you believe it?"</div> <div>      "Beth?"</div> <div>      "Who else?  She'll be here, Quentin.  Then you won't have to be sad anymore." His eyes filled up with tears of self-pity.  He wanted her to be here now.  "She wants to be here, too, you know that?"</div> <div>      "She does?"</div> <div>      "Yes, she's sad sometimes, too."</div> <div>      "How do you know that?"</div> <div>      "Sometimes I just feel things.  I never understood it before until the professor explained it to me.  Sometimes I can see what someone's thinking. She's thinking about you."</div> <div>      He was willing to grasp onto anything, even the words of a thirteen-year-old child.  "What is she thinking?"</div> <div>      "If things can be the same.  And if you'll be here waiting for her.  You will, won't you?"</div> <div>      "Hell, yes, Amy.  What else?"</div> <div>      "I don't know.  That's all."  Amy put her hand over his.  "Try not to be so sad, and try not to drink all that stuff.  You'll just make yourself throw up and you'll get a headache, too."</div> <div>      He managed to sit up and put his hand on top of her head.  "You're some kid, you know that?  Look, if I pour this out, will you go back to bed?  I don't want to be responsible for you not to be getting up in the morning."</div> <div>      He could see her teeth in the moonlight as she grinned.  "Okay, it's a deal."</div> <div>      He had the open bottle of brandy in one hand and slowly tipped it over, letting the brandy spill out.  </div> <bR> <div>      Quentin remembered very little of Chris and Sabrina's wedding.  There were only about twenty people at the little church; Quentin, Amy, Sabrina's brother Ned, and his wife Jean were the only family members.  The other guests were friends and acquaintances Chris and Sabrina had met in and around Port Jervis.  The weather was cooperatively pleasant that day.  </div> <div> After the ceremony, Quentin set himself up at the barbecue pit to keep himself constructively busy.  Otherwise, he was sure he'd be drinking heavily.  He tried to watch himself-especially in Amy's presence.  He'd gone on one other big bender since coming back to Cuddeback, and that had happened after another night of bad dreams about Beth and Barnabas.   Quentin managed to hide his loneliness and discomfort behind the "pasted" smile.  One other person there obviously felt out of place, and that was Sabrina's brother Ned.</div> <div> Quentin didn't like him.  He was bossy and his paternalistic attitude toward Sabrina reminded him too much of Barnabas.  Ned had made one friendly overture, offering to show Quentin how to properly barbecue hamburgers and had been rather rudely rebuffed.  Quentin didn't care-no one had been in hearing distance anyway.  The party began to break up in the early evening.  After everyone had gone, Chris and Sabrina began to pack up the van to go.  There was a last minute hitch-Amy.  Quentin could see Ned talking with Amy, and then she broke away and walked directly toward him.  Ned hesitated a minute and then began to follow.</div> <div> "What's the matter, Amy?" Quentin asked.</div> <div> "Let me stay here, Quentin, please?  I won't be any trouble."  Amy begged.</div> <div> At that moment, Ned joined them.  "This is already set up, kid.  You can't go changing the plans now.  Let your uncle alone-he's probably got plans."</div> <div> "No, he hasn't.  I can keep him company."</div> <div> "YOU can keep him company?"  Ned asked in disbelief, his voice scaling up.  "That's not right, young lady!  Now the arrangements have been made, so you go get your bags so we can go."</div> <div> Amy looked at Quentin.  "I don't want to go with him!  Please let me stay!"</div> <div> "It's okay with me if it's okay with your brother," Quentin answered, wondering what the hell was going on.  Ned was glaring at him.  Amy threw her arms around him and then ran off looking for Chris.  "What'd you say to the kid to turn her off?"</div> <div> "What'd you say to turn her on?" Ned countered nastily.  </div> <div> Quentin was furious at the implication.  He shoved Ned.  "What the fuck are you saying?"</div> <div> Ned shoved back.   "I think you know!"  Without warning, he drove his fist into Quentin's stomach, doubling him over.</div> <div> "Ned!" Sabrina cried out.  Jean put her hand up to her mouth, but she was a mousy little thing and didn't say a word.</div> <div> Chris pushed Ned back.  "What the hell do you think you're doing?"</div> <div> Quentin got up slowly, letting the two of them argue back and forth.  He would've liked to finish the fight, but it wasn't really worth it.  Amy had broken away from the group and had run into the house.  Sabrina had gotten in between her husband and Ned and was now shouting at her brother.  "I think you should just go, Ned!  Quentin doesn't mind, so Amy can stay here for the week!"</div> <div> "You really have poor judgement, you know that?  You make these plans for me to watch this kid weeks in advance and then because of some childish whim, you're going to leave a child with THIS guy?"</div> <div> "I trust `this guy' a lot more than you, Ned," Sabrina said, furiously.  "I want you go before you spoil everything!"</div> <div> "Fine!  I'm going!" Ned stormed off in a huff.</div> <div> "You okay, Quentin?"  Chris asked.</div> <div> "I'm fine," Quentin replied, waving his hand.  "Did Amy tell you what that was all about?"</div> <div> "Just that she didn't like Ned and felt safer with you," Chris answered.  "It was fine with me-I mean, I know you're not going anywhere, right?  This way she doesn't have to miss school-man, I just don't understand that asshole."</div> <div> "He just likes to be in control," Sabrina explained crossly.</div> <div> "I know people like that," Quentin said, a little bitterly, and Chris looked at him.  Chris knew exactly who he meant but didn't say anything.  "Look, it's no big deal having that kid around, and she'd feel more at home anyway, so-"</div> <div> Sabrina put her arms around him and hugged him.  "Thank you!  You're so sweet, Quentin."  Chris shook his hand.   Amy came outside once she realized that Ned was gone to see Sabrina and Chris off.</div> <div> As the van pulled away, Quentin looked at Amy.  "Well, you'll keep me from drinking, anyway.  What's on TV on Saturdays? `All in the Family'?"  He didn't watch much television; he preferred to listen to music.</div> <div> "Come on, we'll go see!" Amy said, taking his hand and pulling him into the house.  He sighed.  He had a sinking feeling that he was going to be stuck watching something teeny-boppish like  "Donny and Marie."  It would be a long week after all.</div> <bR> <div> About a week after Chris and Sabrina arrived back from their honeymoon, they got a disturbing call from Katie:   "She's gone-that lady you asked me to watch, Dad.  Zigana?"</div> <div> "What happened?"</div> <div> "I don't know that anything happened-that's just it. The shop's been closed up for two days.  I finally went around to her house and knocked, and there was no answer. I kind of looked in the window, and there's nothing in there-no furniture or anything.  I didn't know what to tell the police so I haven't called them.  Should I?"</div> <div> "I don't know," Quentin answered hoarsely, feeling a surge of adrenaline.  He felt light-headed.  He noticed that Chris and Sabrina both looked up at him at the same time.  At the same time, he felt Amy staring at him. "I think maybe I'd better come up.  Is that a problem?"</div> <div> "Not at all, Dad, I was hoping you would."</div> <div> As he hung up the phone, he met Amy's eyes.  She looked frightened.  "He's got her," she whispered.  "He's come back now."</div> <div> Quentin's blood ran cold.  He knew she was right.   Even worse than that, he had a horrible suspicion just who it was that Amanda had made her deal with.  Why else would she have gone to Hunter Mountain, of all places?</div> <div> "What is it?" Chris asked.  "You look like you've seen a ghost!  Did something happen to Zigana?"  He shot a glance at Amy.  "That demon is back or whatever he is?"</div> <div> "Yeah," Quentin said numbly.  He thought he'd better go tonight and said so.</div> <div> "I'll come with you," Chris offered immediately.</div> <div> "No!" Quentin objected strongly.  "Are you crazy?  You have a pregnant wife and a little kid to look after!"</div> <div> He could see that Chris was about to object but reality won over his impulsive offer to help.   Very reluctantly, he nodded his head.  "Man, I feel really bad about you going alone like this," Chris said as Quentin brought his cycle out.</div> <div> "Don't be an idiot," Quentin snapped.  "What makes you think you're safe here?  Sabrina is pregnant and Amy's just a child.  You <I>have</I> to stay here.  You know what, though?  You have to watch out-for anyone.  I don't know what he looks like anymore.  If Amy can feel him, then he sure as hell can feel <I>her.</I>  He knows about her, Chris."</div> <div> "Oh, fuck, you're shitting me, right?"</div> <div> "No, Chris, I wouldn't do that just to scare you or make you feel better about staying here.  I'm telling you the truth.  And don't just look out for men-I think he could be a woman, too."</div> <div> "Jeeeesus!" Chris exclaimed.  </div> <div> Quentin wondered if he should call Mary Jane.  Would Petofi know or even care about her?  It was probably better to be safe than sorry, but he had a feeling that the people in the most danger were Barnabas, Julia, and himself.  Petofi had struck at the family before to reach Quentin, killing his brother Edward, and that was why he was worried about Chris and Katie.  "I'm almost tempted to tell you to split for a while," he said, thinking reflectively.  "Is there anywhere you can go for a while, Chris?"</div> <div> "Collinsport-and Ned's," Chris answered.  "I don't really have roots anywhere else-no friends to speak of."  He thought.  "Wait!  I just remembered-my cousin, Joe Haskell!"  The name sounded vaguely familiar to Quentin.  "He's out of Windcliff now."</div> <div> "Windcliff?"</div> <div> Chris sighed.  "He saw me change, Quentin."</div> <div> "Ah, shit."</div> <div> "Yeah.  Well, he's out and he's moved out of Maine-in fact, he's clamming out on the East End of Long Island."</div> <div> "He is?"</div> <div> "Yeah-we've kept in touch, sort of."</div> <div> "Does he remember--?"</div> <div> "I don't know, Quentin.  I haven't been able to ask."</div> <div> "Call him, Chris.  Talk to him."</div> <div> "Ya think?"</div> <div> "Just feel him out.  If he's okay with it, go there for awhile."</div> <div> "Well, what if once we're there, he asks me something?"</div> <div> "Just do whatever you feel is right.  Tell him if you think he can handle it.  You guys were close?"</div> <div> "Well, sorta.  He was really closer to Tom."</div> <div> Tom again!  Quentin fervently hoped <I>that</I> wouldn't come up.  "Call him, Chris.  Or Ned.  I just would feel better if you guys went somewhere else."  Chris nodded.</div> <div> Quentin stowed the gear he was taking and climbed astride the motorcycle.  Amy approached, and Chris said, "How'd you like to go see Cousin Joe for a while, kiddo?"</div> <div> Amy's dull eyes brightened a little when Joe's name was mentioned.  "All the secrets are going to come out," she said.</div> <div> "All what secrets, Amy?"</div> <div> "All of yours, Chris."</div> <div> Chris paled a little and looked at Quentin.  Then he turned back to Amy.  "Honey, would it be right to go to Joe's?"</div> <div> "Yes," Amy replied in her strange, flat voice.  "It's going to be a hard thing for us, but it's the right thing to do."</div> <div> "Then I'll call Joe," Chris said, his voice barely audible. He looked at her pale, frightened face.  He was scared, too, and put his arms around her.  </div> <div> <I>My God,</I> Quentin thought, <I>aren't we ever going to be free of him?</I>  <I>All I wanted was just to be with Beth again.  Why can't we have things the way they were before the war?  We were happy then-I'd hoped we'd have some of that time again.</I></div> <div> He thought about just running but knew it was ridiculous as soon as the words were out of his mouth.  He knew Petofi would just track him down where ever he went. He even considered praying.  He'd stopped during the long years without Beth.  He hadn't been inside a church in many, many years.  <I>I can't make any bargains</I>, he thought.<I> You're not supposed to try and bargain.</I>  He wanted to, very badly, but he was afraid of jinxing himself and Beth.  <I>I know I'm not a good Christian and there's no reason why You'd help me, but please, I need help.  I can't do this all alone.</I></div> <div> "What are you thinking, Quentin?" Amy asked. He started to answer but the words wouldn't come.  He had the strangest sensation.  It felt as if the wings of a giant bird enfolded him.  Chris and Amy looked awestruck.  "Do you feel it, too?" he asked softly.  He didn't feel as frightened as he had a few moments ago.  Maybe it was a hallucination so that he wouldn't go mad with fear.</div> <div> Then Amy whispered back:  "I feel it.  We're not alone."</div> <bR> <div> The feeling of comfort and protection continued to surround Quentin after he left the Jennings family.  They were packing to leave for Long Island. The feeling was still so strong even in Hunter, Quentin was tempted to go straight out to CaraLinda's house.  </div> <div> "Now?" Katie protested.  It's almost midnight!"</div> <div> "I think it'll be all right, though, Katie, and I've got a flashlight.  I've got to now-for some reason, I have to know whether she's all right."</div> <div> "But--?"</div> <div> "I have a feeling it won't take long, sweetheart."  </div> <div> "Fine-then let me go with you."</div> <div> He shook his head.  "No! No way!  Katie, please!"</div> <div> Reluctantly, she shook her head.  "I really don't like this," she objected, but she knew him well enough to know that she wasn't going to be able to stop him.</div> <div> Quentin went into town first and slowed down as he came to the little shop Zigana had rented (or maybe owned?) for her business.  Everything was dark, but that was to be expected.  He went on to her house.  It was dark and had an empty, cold look and feel to it.  He stopped the cycle and put the kickstand down, killing the motor.  He got off and hesitated in front of the house, afraid of what he'd find.   <I>I've got to know,</I> he thought, reaching for the flashlight.</div> <div> A vehicle turned down the road; its brights were on and blinding.  It was moving toward him slowly.  Quentin squinted and put his hand up.  <I>Who the hell is it?</I>  He felt a warning prickling sensation as the vehicle-a van-pulled up behind his motorcycle.  The lights went out, but Quentin was momentarily blinded and didn't see the driver who'd hopped out.  "Quentin!" Chris called softly.</div> <div> "Chris!" Quentin was furious.  "What the fuck are you doing here?  I told you-"</div> <div> "Shut up, man!" Chris interrupted.  "I know what you said.  But there's something I have to tell you, Quentin.  Barnabas and Julia called-they're back."</div> <div> "They're back?"  He repeated blankly.</div> <div> "Yeah," Chris said.  He seemed about to go on and then stopped.  "Look, you have to call them when we get back to Katie's, all right?"</div> <div> "Right," Quentin agreed blankly, wondering why Chris felt it necessary to come all this way to tell him that Barnabas and Julia were back.  He should've gone to Long Island like he'd planned.</div> <div> "She's really gone?" Chris asked, uneasily, and Quentin forgot about Long Island.</div> <div> "That's what I'm going to find out now," Quentin answered.  He hefted the flashlight in his hand.  "Well, as long as you're here, you can help."</div> <div> They went up to the front door, and Quentin knocked.  He felt foolish because he didn't really expect an answer.  He tried the knob; it was locked.  "Let's try the back door," he suggested, and they went around the side of the house to the back door.  The warm protective sensation was beginning to dissipate now.  He felt a growing sense of foreboding as they approached the back door.  The back door was locked, too.  </div> <div> "What now?"</div> <div> "Now we'll try the windows."</div> <div> "Quentin-"</div> <div> "Look, I know, but I'm going into the house."</div> <div> "Well, let's do it, then.  At least there's someone who can bail us out of jail," Chris said with a grim smile.</div> <div> Quentin checked the window closest to the back door.  It was latched securely.  He sighed.  There were three other windows in the back of the house.  He approached the next one.  It was a smaller window; perhaps to one of the bedrooms.  To his surprise, the window slid up.  "It's open!"  He turned and handed the flashlight to Chris.  The window was set higher up than the others; it was about at his chest.  However, he was able to pull himself up using his arms and climbing up the siding of the house.  </div> <div> As he slid in through the window, he realized with a sickening sense of horror which room it was-the bathroom.  "Very funny," he muttered.</div> <div> "What?"  Chris called.  "Quentin!"</div> <div> As he slid into the bathroom of CaraLinda's house, he fought off the flashbacks of two other bathrooms.  One was in the flat of Petofi's apartment in New York-which was how he'd escaped after Petofi assaulted him.  The other was the bathroom of the house in Chicago where he'd confronted Petofi again.  The evil creature had made a big show of making sure he wouldn't be able to escape that bathroom.  It was ironic-or was it? -that this would be the room he could get into.  He felt himself starting to shake.</div> <div> "Quentin!"</div> <div> He fought to control himself.  He leaned out the window.  "Give me the flashlight, Chris, I'll go open the door for you."</div> <div> Chris handed him the flashlight.  For a moment he was tempted to search the house and leave Chris outside to protect him from Petofi.  Then he decided it would be a bad idea.  What if Petofi was still lurking around? He might need help.</div> <div> "Hurry up!" Chris was calling impatiently. </div> <div> "Meet me at the back door," he called back.  He quickly flashed the light around the bathroom.  There was nothing here-oh, there were signs that someone lived here, but nothing outwardly sinister in the bottle of shampoo, the skin cremes, the lotions… he went into the hall way and down toward the kitchen.  There were eerie shadows everywhere cast by the thin beam of the flashlight.  He went into the kitchen and unlocked it, opening the door to let Chris in.  "There must be a light," he said.</div> <div> "Are you sure you want to turn it on?"</div> <div> "I don't think there's anyone here," he answered.  He shone the light around, looking for a light switch.  He found it and reached for it, expecting that the electricity would be off. The electricity is always off in a haunted house, he thought, and then immediately wondered why he'd think the house was haunted.  A miracle had occurred in this house.  He flipped the switch and the lights came on.  He looked at Chris, who looked back at him, wide-eyed and pale.  He looked around the kitchen.  It was so still-no one was here, he knew it.</div> <div> "She really is gone, isn't she?" Chris said, confirming it. There were clean dishes in the drainboard.  "She didn't expect to go, did she?  She expected to come back."</div> <div> The kitchen opened into the living room he'd sat in with Chris, Sabrina, and Amy-last year.  The room was furnished simply.  He looked toward what he knew to be Zigana's bedroom-down the hall from the bathroom.  "I guess we should see if there's any sign of a disturbance," he muttered.  They walked down the hall together, and he felt his heart beginning to thump and beat faster.  </div> <div> The door to what they knew to be her bedroom was closed.  He opened it slowly and was stunned at the blast of cold air that rushed out.  Chris gasped and pulled back in a reflexive reaction.  Trembling, he reached in and flicked the light switch on.  Together, they stared at the mirror over the dresser in dismay: "SORRY TO HAVE MISSED YOU, MY DEAR" was written in red block letters.  The letters filled the entire length of the mirror so that it seemed as if their reflected images were covered in what seemed to be blood.  </div> <div> "Good Godamighty!" Chris exclaimed, shivering from the cold.</div> <div> Quentin had begun to tremble from the cold and from terror.  "Let's get out of here," he muttered gutterally.  He turned and ran from the room and out of the house.</div> <div> "The lights!" Chris exclaimed, right on his heels.</div> <div> "Fuck the lights!" Quentin exclaimed.  "We have to call the police."  He stopped at the motorcycle, gasping.  CaraLinda! </div> <div> Chris sensed Quentin's terror.  "He killed her, do you think that?"</div> <div> "I don't know," Quentin answered in a choked voice.  "He likes to toy with his victims first."</div> <div> Chris was silent a moment.  "Quentin, look, we have to get back to Katie's.  It's not just that we've got to get the police.  You really have to call Collinwood right away."</div> <div> "Why?  Barnabas and Julia want something from me?"</div> <div> "No, man, they want to give you something," Chris answered.</div> <div> Quentin looked at Chris suspiciously.  "What?"</div> <div> "Man, will you quit?  Let's go! We have to call the police and you have to call Collinwood! Come on!" Chris shouted, apparently stretched beyond his stress limits.</div> <div> Quentin studied him and decided not to be stubborn about it. Fine. They'd call the police from Katie's, although he was sure the police would want them to come right back here again.  He got onto his motorcycle and Chris followed him back to the Hideaway Chalet.</div> <bR> <div> Something was up as soon as Quentin walked in the door-one look at Katie's face told him so.  Rolf was up and so were the rest of the girls.  Sabrina and Amy sat at the table looking stunned and uncomfortable.</div> <div> "Was ist los?" Quentin asked.</div> <div> "Anneliese wird gegangen," Rolf said brusquely.  Lisa had run off again.</div> <div> "Shit," said Quentin.</div> <div> "That's not all," Katie said in a faint voice.</div> <div> "No?" Quentin was afraid that Katie was going to say that Amanda had come back and run off with Lisa.  Amanda…an uneasy suspicion began to grow in his mind.</div> <div> "Call Collinwood," Katie said in the same strange voice.</div> <div> Puzzled, Quentin realized that she was speaking English and not German as she usually did for Rolf's benefit.  They were all looking at him.  He remembered Chris' urgency to call Collinwood.  But why?  What was the big deal about Barnabas and Julia coming back from behind the Iron Curtain?</div> <div> Suddenly, he knew what it was-they found Beth!</div> <div> He ran for the phone, picked up the receiver, dropped it, picked it up again, and dropped it again.  Chris was beside him, taking the receiver and dialing the number.  He pressed the receiver into Quentin's hand, and he put it up to his ear.  Please, please, please, please…he thought as the phone rang and rang.</div> <div> Finally he heard Mrs. Johnson's sleepy and cross voice, "Hello?"  It could have been: Why are you calling at this hour?</div> <div> "Mrs. Johnson?" Quentin asked, tentatively.  </div> <div> "Oh! My goodness, the commotion that's been going on around here!" Mrs. Johnson exclaimed.  "Oh, Mr. Collins, the most wonderful thing has happened!"</div> <div> "I know!" Quentin exclaimed, his heart beginning to pound in his ears.  He leaned against the table.  The room was beginning to spin.  His voice became almost inaudible.  "Is she there?"</div> <div> "Why, no," Mrs. Johnson replied and Quentin wanted to cry.  She began to say something else, but he interrupted impatiently.</div> <div> "Is she at the Old House?"  He would ask her to go and get her.</div> <div> "No," Mrs. Johnson answered with compassion.  "You really should speak to Mr. Collins-Mr. Barnabas I mean.  It's just that he's not here-he's at the Old House, you know."</div> <div> "Dr. Hoffman?"</div> <div> Surprised, Mrs. Johnson said, "Didn't Mr. Jennings tell you?  She's Mrs. Barnabas Collins now-well, not that it would matter.  I can tell you this-they're planning a grand party for you all.  Mr. Barnabas called Mr. Jennings with the news and asked him to come and bring you to Collinwood."  She chuckled, sounding pleased that there was good news at last. "We're having a grand celebration."</div> <div> They don't know about Petofi, Quentin thought, alarmed.  "I'm on the way," he told her abruptly.</div> <div> <I>"Now?"</I></div> <div> "Yes-I'll be there as soon as I can."  Quentin hung up the phone.  Katie was right there, weeping, and he put her arms around her, holding her tightly.  "You come with us," he said to her.</div> <div> "I can't-Lisa," Katie wept.</div> <div> "You go," Rolf said in broken English.  "I vatch for Liese.  I talk with die Polizei."</div> <div> "Come with us, Katie," Quentin urged.  He wanted to get going now and was impatient to be off.   Katie nodded and went upstairs to pack an overnight bag.  Quentin thanked Rolf for taking care of the police.  He would be up all night answering questions not only about his missing daughter but about Zigana, too.  <I>We should have wiped the place clean of our prints before we left,</I> Quentin thought.  It was too late now.  The police could come to him in Collinsport.</div> <div> If they drove through the night, they'd be at Collinwood in time for brunch.  With Quentin, Chris, Sabrina, and Katie each driving they might not have to stop longer than just to change drivers, and they could manage the trip in seven or eight hours.  Quentin considered flying to Collinsport.  There was an air of unreality about everything and a sense of doom too-Beth was back, but so was Petofi. <I>Sorry to have missed you, my dear.</I>  Oh, but we'll see each other again-and Quentin knew without a doubt exactly who Amanda had made a pact with. Petofi could be anywhere.  He could already be in Collinsport.  They had to hurry.</div> <bR> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div> <A HREF="id129.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="20: Ziganas Cure"><U>20:  Zigana's Cure</U></A>    <A HREF="id131.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="22: Enigma at Collinwood"><U>22:  Enigma at Collinwood</U></A> </div> <div> <A HREF="index.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Cassies Writing"><U>Cassie's Writing</U></A></div> </td> </tr></table></body>