ELEVEN

Hours later Payton tossed and turned unable to escape the insanity of the day in sleep. "How dare that damn legal snake bring her here!" She muttered to herself for the thousandth time that evening. She had told him the same thing, then was forced to listen to his story of rescuing the poor dear little thing from some malicious Brisbey phantom. He pointed out the bruises on the kid. Yeah she'd seen the mark on her face. It was nasty. Almost hurt to see such a discoloring mark on such a small face. She tossed again. Where had that thought come from? She could care less how many bruises the kid had or where she'd gotten them. "And he expects ME to take care of her? I think not!" She growled as she punched her pillow into a more comfortable lump. Colin practically dropped the kid into her lap. Expected her to just accept that? 'But she's all alone.' The lawyer argued. And that was supposed to matter? She had grown up 'all alone' and no one ever came riding in to save her. No one ever took her hand and walked her out of the nightmare she had to live. She turned again and let out a long sigh. This was getting ridiculous. At this rate she'd be up all night. 'Maybe a glass of hot milk?' HOT MILK? She had to be delirious. She hated milk! A large brandy would be much more likely.

She flipped onto her back and folded her arms over her chest. The rain pelted the windows. The chill in the November air added to the weather's misery throwing sporadic ice pellets in with the downpour. The wind moaned like it normally did on this kind of night and the bare branches of the large ancient trees scratched against the outside of the house.

For a brief moment Payton thought nothing, she merely listened to the sounds of nature, the lonely sounds of nature. Her mind wandered across memories she had buried in its deepest darkest corners. Memories of birthdays with not even a card, not a call, from a father too busy with his business to even remember the day. Memories of holidays spent with the resentful staff of Mac an Bhaird who were forced to be with her dark sullen child self instead of with their own families. Memories of waking from frightful dreams in dark rooms and calling for someone who never heard and rescue that never came. She turned again and remembered the warmth of Reagan's small hands on her own. The child actually tried to comfort her. Did the kid actually have some kind of feeling toward her? Why? She hated the little bastard! She wanted, needed the kid to hate her back. Or did she? For that one second it felt as if some small piece of the warrior's armor dropped away. For that one second had she actually felt something? She turned on her side and quickly pulled that armor back into place. She would not allow herself to feel anything. She must survive.

Payton shivered and sneezed. "Great. On top of everything else, a cold? I really hate to have a cold." She gave up tossing and turning and sat up, throwing her legs over the side of the large bed. She grabbed the thick robe on the chair next to it and threw it on as she stood. She paced to the large bay window and looked out across the family estate. In the darkness she could barely make out the landmarks but she knew them well. The main garden was below her bedroom window with a long cobble stone path that led to the swimming pool. On the other side was what was always called 'Cupid's Meadow'. She hated that stupid name. It was some silly family tradition that every McAllister male proposed to his intended there. It always made her glad she had been born female. The area was full of roses and little lovers' benches and heart shaped trellises. What fool ever thought of that? She'd wondered over and over as she had grown up. Beyond the meadow were the boathouse and the sound. She just could see the dark waters and could almost imagine them lapping against the shore. She stood in the dark for a long time just looking, just listening, just blocking out the thoughts that were invading her mind.

She balled her fist and brought her arms down stiff at her side. "How dare he! How bloody damn dare he!" She growled out loud as she turned away from the window and crossed the room. She dropped down onto the small padded seat in front of the vanity. She picked up an ornate silver brush and absently began brushing her hair. "What am I supposed to do with her?" She asked her dark reflection. "If he thinks I'm staying here to be her nursemaid, he's got another thought coming! I have a company to run." The brush stopped mid stroke. Payton's tired overworked mind released the reality of Connie's absence. She sighed heavily and returned the brush to the vanity. "Oh Connie." She shook her head. "Why do you have to be so stubborn?" Tomorrow, she thought, tomorrow she would call the secretary just to ask that very question. She'd point out to her how things were not getting done because of her silly display of temper. She'd point out how the company was suffering due to her absence. She'd tell her she ripped up her resignation and burned it in the office wastebasket!!

"Where did that stupid notion come from?" She asked with a snarl. There'd be no asking. She'd simply order Connie back to work. A single woman pushing fifty certainly would not have it easy in today's job market.

Payton stopped and stared at her refection. In the absence of light it seemed as though she were suspended in nothingness. She hadn't turned on any light but allowed her eyes to become accustomed to the darkness. In the mirror she saw only the outline of her head and lighter features of her face, the rest was coal black. It was disheartening, frightening and Payton quickly turned away not liking the strange unfamiliar feeling of fear it stirred in her stomach. Fear was not something Payton dealt with often. When she did it was quickly masked with sheer anger. But now she was alone in her own room in her own home and there was no one to vent that anger on…no one except…

Payton walked down the dark hall toward the guestroom. She had no idea why she was headed there. Perhaps it was just curiosity, but she told herself it was to be able to see the person that had caused this mess in the first place. Perhaps it was because in that moment she saw the dark loneliness that encompassed her she needed to be near someone, to be connected somehow to something beside herself. She turned the doorknob slowly and pushed the large door inward.

A soft light spilled out of the adjoining bathroom. Marjorie had no doubt left on that light so the child would not be frightened if she awoke in a strange place. Marjorie always thought about those things, about how other people felt. Payton could care less. 'Serve the little brat right to wake up and be terrified', she thought as she tiptoed across the carpet.

For a few moments she simply stared down at the small form asleep in the large bed. The child's breathing was relaxed and deep, the sleep of the innocent. Her head rested on the soft white down pillow. Her hands were tucked under her cheek and her reddish blond hair fell in soft wisps across her face. One pink foot stuck out from under the heavy quilt Marjorie had no doubt tucked around her. Payton folded her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes. "No nightmares for you, I bet." She spoke softly, moving closer to the side of the bed and something, perhaps some long lost piece of maternal instinct, moved her to reach out and gently brush the strands of hair from the child's cheek with just the tips of her fingers. Reagan made a soft sound and snuggled farther down into the large pillow. The light from the bathroom fell across the child's face and Payton studied the large bruise it revealed. She hadn't really looked at it earlier. She was too angry to look at anything then. The kid could have been missing an eye and she wouldn't have noticed. She traced the large area, barely touching the child, with her fingertip. The bruise ran along her hairline and across her cheekbone. The eyelid was a deep purple and a dark circle marked the area below. It extended over her cheek and along her jaw. Payton gently tucked the soft hair behind Reagan's ear and saw the bruise had marked her there as well. Payton grimaced when she noticed the dark blue and red bruise on and around the girl's ear. Just below that ear she could easily make out the definite outline of two fingers. She looked back at the child's face and noticed a tear slowly slipping over her cheek.

A strange feeling began deep within Payton's soul. A feeling she had never before experienced. It was more than anger, worse than disgust. Colin had been right. Someone had done this to Reagan. Someone had dared to lay on hand on this small McAllister. The feeling ran deeper and filled the executive's blood. She stood back and took a long breath. Without thinking she pulled the quilt over the small exposed foot and then tucked the cover up under the child's chin. Whatever Reagan was. Whatever her parentage. She was a McAllister. Payton told herself that was the reason for the strange unfamiliar feeling. Family honor, as it were. 'Family? FAMILY?' Payton shook her head and tried desperately to shake free of that feeling as well. Reagan moaned softly and stretched as she slowly rolled to the opposite side and pulled herself into a tight ball. She sniffed twice. Payton backed away quickly into the shadow beyond the light. 'Family!' She pishawed to herself.

"I have no family and I don't need one." She told the sleeping child. "You can't come in here and think you will just become family. I won't let that happen. I won't." Her voice sounded hoarse as she whispered a shout. The feeling knocked on her heart, she felt her defenses failing. She would not let that happen. She crossed to the bathroom and flicked off the light throwing the room into complete darkness. Payton left quickly without looking back. She hurried to her own room and crawled back under her own heavy quilt. Outside the wind howled and the branches beat against the wall. She pulled the covers up under her chin. Exhaustion took its toll as the young woman fought the newfound feeling of compassion that stirred within her. She fell into a deep sleep, thankful at last for the escape that it offered.

Alexis Thorne stood at the window in her small cottage living room. She watched the small flakes of snow drift past mixed with the chilling rain. That lawyer had taken away her only chance for avenging her father's murder. Now the child was miles away, miles from her control. "The little brat is probably sobbed the story of her cruel mistreatment all the way back to the city." She growled to herself. "And that bastard lawyer will return tomorrow!" He already knew too much and she had no idea who among her staff, had managed to get word to Payton McAllister that anything was amiss at Brisbey. She had her suspicions. That fat charwoman's daughter that didn't even belong in Brisbey's hallowed halls was high on her list. The little miscreant was there in the glade with the brat last Saturday. The child knew something, but certainly not enough. And the dense little twit had hardly the sense to call the city and report the incident to anyone, much less a lawyer. That idiot maintenance person she had sent packing after the bench was destroyed? Even if he did say something, who would believe him, he was a blithering fool. She was sure he wasn't even literate enough to know what purpose a lawyer would serve and he certainly did not know who Payton McAllister was. Besides he had no clue as to how the bench was defaced. She had told him it was vandals that had come onto the campus during the night. She drummed her fingers on the windowsill. It would not be in her best interest to wait for that Colin 'What's his Name'. She had a small problem to tend to in the city. He would be here and she would be there. Whoever was involved, whatever was to be said tomorrow would not matter. It was too late to be concerned with that. She had a job to complete. The headmistress of Brisbey bent and picked up a small suitcase, she smiled as she turned out the light and pulled the door closed behind her. Her footsteps made a hollow sound on the wet pavement as she walked in the darkness toward her dark sedan. The engine started with a low growl. She drove away from her home. She would have her revenge. She would take back what she had lost.

TWELVE

Reagan rubbed her eyes and blinked at the brightness in the large room. For the first time in days the sun had welcomed the morning. She sat up in the large bed and stretched high, immediately regretting the movement that sent a sharp pain through her left arm. She pulled her it back and massaged the ache in her elbow before bouncing out of the bed and across the room to the wide window on the opposite side.

"Good morning!" Marjorie announced as she entered the room. "I was beginning to worry about you, sleepy head!"

Reagan smiled as she turned and sat cross-legged on the window seat. "It's not raining!"

Marjorie took a moment to look out across the estate. "No, it isn't. Thank the Good Lord. I was beginning to think I'd have to have Henry start building a large ship."

Reagan giggled at the remark. "And gather the animals?" She asked.

"Oh that too!" Marjorie laughed back. She laid the bundle she was carrying on the foot of Reagan's bed. "I washed you 'unmentionables'." She patted the top of the small stack of clothing. "The rest I'm afraid isn't very feminine. My grandson visits sometimes. He always manages to leave something behind. Anyway, they looked like they might fit and I figured it would be more comfortable than that stuffy uniform of yours. And you can't spend the day in that." Marjorie had found an old tee shirt that served very well as a nightgown for the skinny child.

"That's okay, Marjorie." Reagan smiled again as she crossed the room and examined her new wardrobe. It consisted of a red checked shirt and a pair of denim bib overalls. She nodded her approval.

"The socks are Payton's, but I don't think she'll miss them." Marjorie fished a pair of white anklets from her apron pocket and held them out to the girl.

Reagan took the offering. "Where is Payton? Is she up yet?" She started toward the door.

Marjorie caught her by the hem of her tee shirt nightie and tugged her back. "Hold on sweetie! Payton is up and gone before dawn. She likes to avoid the traffic." She held out a pair of pink panties.

Reagan took the hint and quickly slipped them on. "I thought her car was broken down in the driveway?" She asked from under the nightshirt as she wriggled out of it.

"Henry took her into the city today." Marjorie explained. She quickly slipped the sleeveless white juvenile camisole over the girl's head. She tried to hide the look of shock she knew crossed her expression when she saw the bruises on the young body. The child's ribs and backbone were also starkly visible.

"She went in Henry's car?" Reagan looked up at the housekeeper as she brushed her disheveled from her eyes.

For a moment Marjorie looked into the clear green pools of innocence and tried to picture the horrors this small person must have endured. She shook her head and reached for the red checked shirt. "No, no dear. Henry drove the limousine this morning. The tow truck took Payton's car to the garage a little while ago." She held the shirt out.

"Payton has a LIMOUSINE?" Reagan's eyes went wide with childlike wonder as she slipped her arms threw the sleeves and turned to face the housekeeper. She sat down on the bed and unrolled the socks Marjorie had given her.

"Mm hmm." Marjorie nodded watching the child slip on the socks. She noticed the faint stripes across the child's calves and thighs. "She doesn’t like to use it. She likes her freedom, doesn't like to depend on anyone."

Reagan stopped and thought for a moment then nodded as she pulled on the second sock. "Yes, I suppose she would want to do stuff for herself. She probably doesn’t like to put people out of their way. Henry probably has a lot of other things to do."

Marjorie laughed out loud.

Reagan raised her brows in a silent question.

"You have a lot to learn, dear heart." She reached for the overalls.

"I can do it myself you know." Reagan stated sweetly. She grabbed the garment and skipped into the bathroom closing the door behind her.

Marjorie went to work making the bed. The child had been through some terrible abuse. Payton had left no doubt that she was not welcome in this house and still the girl thought the world of her older sister. The housekeeper punched the pillows a little harder than necessary. She turned as the bathroom door swung open.

"I guess I do need a little help." Reagan was saying as she worked at buckling the shoulder strap on the overalls. "I really don't know how this works." She stopped in front of the housekeeper.

Marjorie slipped the wire eyelets over the brass rivets on the garment and stood back to admire the results. She tapped her chin with one finger. "I think we need a hairbrush." She pointed to the mirror behind Reagan.

Reagan turned and agreed that her hair did resemble a bird's nest. She reached for the wooden brush on the dresser. Marjorie took it from her, sat down on the edge of the bed and patted the spot next to her. Reagan took the hint and bounced on to the spot. It had been a long time since someone cared about her appearance. Her mother had sat with her every morning before school brushing her hair. It was their special time, a time when they shared secrets and special dreams for the future…a future that no longer existed. They had often talked about Payton. Reagan's mother had told her all kinds of stories about her famous sister. She even helped her to make a scrapbook of newspaper articles the social column often ran on the young heiress. Reagan's head bobbed a bit as Marjorie pulled the brush through the sleepy snarls.

A few minutes later the housekeeper had produced two tight braids that rested just below Reagan's shoulders. She reached into her pocket and produced two strips of cloth that matched the red checked shirt perfectly. Before Reagan could ask, she replied, "the shirt was a little long." She shrugged her shoulders and tied one strip to the end of each braid.

"You look like you should be picking strawberries!" She commented as she stood behind Reagan at the mirror.

Reagan smiled at her reflection. She turned from side to side to admire her 'new' look. "Kinda like that Sunnybrook Farm movie, huh?" She smiled again and crinkled her nose.

Marjorie tweaked that nose, "Well, what would you like for breakfast, 'Rebecca'?"

"At school we usually have oatmeal." Reagan replied, turning up the unbruised side of her mouth.

"Oh that's too bad," Marjorie replied as she headed for the door. "Because all we have is hotcakes." Reagan's eyebrows shot up. "And I think…yes some warm blueberry syrup and heavy cream…" Reagan followed the housekeeper out of the room rubbing her stomach in anticipation. She stopped for a moment and put a hand to her ear, a quick and sudden pain passed. She grimaced a bit, then headed for the dining room.

Payton rode in silence to the city. Henry was just as pleased with this arrangement having been the brunt of his employer's anger on more than one occasion. He had been in the basement last night during her tirade in the foyer. He was sure when Marjorie told him he would be chauffeuring Payton into the city this morning that he would hear his share of her misery. However, she remained silent, simply staring out the window as the scenery changed from grass green to steel gray. He had made one comment about the change in the weather that earned only a curt nod. When he dropped her at the Bhaird building she simply exited the vehicle. She knew he'd return at five to take her back to the island, there was no need to remind him. Henry climbed back behind the wheel, thankful for the peaceful morning and happy to be on his way home.

By 10:05 a.m. the young executive sat staring at the phone and drumming her fingers on her desk. A little more than an hour ago she had walked through the door of her office half expecting, half hoping to find Connie at her own desk. The office was in darkness. No smell of fresh brewed coffee met her, no voice of reason chased the morning rush to the office out of her mind. Although this morning that wasn't even a thought. She had barely noticed the time pass on her way from the island. Her thoughts were far away, trying to make sense of her actions the night before. She was glad to get away from the house, glad to be away from that kid who seemed to have a strange effect on her -- an effect she was certainly not familiar with nor cared to experience any more than necessary. Hopefully Colin would straighten out this whole mess today and tomorrow life would go back to normal. But for now she was just as tossed and turned as she had been during the wee morning hours. Only this time it was her mind that flipped an idea over and over. She finally picked up the phone and dialed Connie's number. It rang one, twice, four, six…'maybe she is just busy'…eight, ten…'could be outside'…ten, twelve… She slammed the receiver down. "Probably off somewhere living her 'life'!" Payton grumbled remembering Connie's snide remark. She had picked up the phone four times intending to call her ex-secretary only to hang up when the speech she rehearsed didn't sound right at all. Then chastised herself verbally for even thinking she needed to have a speech. She never had a problem speaking to Connie in all the years they had know each other. Why now?

"It has to be that kid!" She said out loud breaking the silence in the large office. "Everything has been insane since she came into my life. EVERYTHING!" She pounded her fist on the desk. "Why couldn't she just be the little brat I wanted her to be? Why did she have to feel sorry for me? WHY?! What's wrong with her? What's wrong with me?"

"Probably more than anyone can fix at the moment." A familiar voice answered.

Payton looked up barely hiding the smile that spread across her usually stone cold expression. "Connie!" She stood and inside she imagined herself rushing to embrace her 'more than employee' friend. But instead she pulled her defenses back into place and forced a more professional expression on her face. "Did you forget something?" She managed to say without emotion.

Connie shook her head and leaned against the open door. "Not really, at least not anything I needed. I just stopped by to see how the new secretary was making out and to help her a bit with finding a few things."

"A few things?" Payton's eyes widened. "Like anyone could find anything with your filing system. "

"Well you know what they say…" Connie smiled, "it's the only way to make sure you are irreplaceable."

Payton stared for a moment then actually smiled a real smile. "Is that what they say?"

Connie nodded.

"I see." Payton narrowed her lips and nodded slowly. "I'll have to make it a point to talk to 'them'." For a long moment no one spoke and a very uncomfortable silence fell between them. "You don't suppose while you're here you could make a decent pot of coffee? I mean if you don't have any plans."

"Well I wouldn't want to step on the new girl's toes." Connie replied looking over her shoulder at the outer office which seemed to be exactly the way she left it.

"New g…" Payton started to repeat then noticed the knowing smile Connie was wearing. "Did you come here to gloat?" She changed her tone, no longer feeling friendly toward the older woman.

"You know something Payton." Connie's voice took on the same tone. "YOU are a very difficult person to like."

"I don't need employees to like me. I need them to respect me." She shot back, suddenly stung by Connie's remark.

"Respect is something you earn, Payton. You can't demand it and NOBODY just owes it to you. It comes with a lot of blood, sweat and tears and once you earn it you have it for a lifetime. All you have right now is fear and that won't last forever. Sooner or later you'll meet someone meaner and wiser than yourself and YOU will be the one on the other end of the stick!" Connie delivered her speech like a well-versed preacher.

Payton stared for a moment. She opened her mouth to reply then shut it again and dropped back into her chair. Connie prepared herself for the worst. It never came. Instead Payton's voice mellowed, "I need you here, Connie. You know more about this company than anyone does. I realized that the hard way. Yesterday was pure hell."

"Payton?" Connie asked a bit bewildered by the change in the CEO's demeanor. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." Payton growled. "I'm gruff and I'm demanding and I'm a bitch, but I am not a stupid bitch. I can't run this place with all the insanity that knocks on that door everyday."

"Are you saying you need me?" Connie now stood at the edge of the desk opposite Payton waiting for reply.

"I'm saying the company needs you." Payton avoided a direct answer.

"The company." Connie chewed her lip and nodded slowly. "Well, we certainly can't leave the 'company' in dire straits, can we?"

"The 'company' would really appreciate your return." Payton offered with as much humility as she was able to muster.

"Well," Connie tilted her head back just a bit, "the 'company' is going to have to make some amendments to 'its' policies."

Payton sat back in her chair and crossed her legs. She folded her hands in her lap. "I suppose the 'company' is willing to negotiate."

"Well there was that little matter in Connecticut." Connie began expecting an immediate argument.

"Mr. Walters has that matter well under control." Payton's expression did not change. "In fact he has probably arrived at the site of the dilemma by this time. He will no doubt have a report on my desk by evening."

"Overtime?" Connie seemed interested.

"He will meet me at my residence. It seems he felt it necessary to drop the main issue into my lap." Payton explained.

"Reagan is with you?" Connie's eyes widened.

Payton held out a hand. "For the time being yes, she's at Mac an Bhaird."

"Payton that's wonderful!" Connie leaned across the desk.

"Don't jump to any conclusions, Connie!" Payton warned. "This isn't over yet."

Connie smiled and nodded again. "No, I think it's just starting." She turned and headed for the door.

Payton say forward and began to stand. "Where are you going? We aren't through…" Her voice seemed just a bit too desperate and immediately she resented letting Connie see her vulnerability.

"Just going to make that coffee." Connie said over her shoulder. "And the mail is rather piled up on my desk. I better go through it before something important goes missing. And it is Wednesday and the payroll clerk should be here by 11:00. He'll need a signature or two and…"

Payton smiled a rare real smile. It said the 'thank you' that Connie knew at this point her employer was incapable of making. She was glad Colin had telephoned her last night. Sure they'd had a good laugh at Payton's misfortune but in the end he'd convinced her she was going to be needed by McAllister Inc. now more than ever. She owed him that plate of double chocolate brownies. She made a mental note and picked up the coffeepot.

THIRTEEN 

Reagan's exploration of the massive house began in a room where she was most comfortable. Three walls held books on shelves from floor to ceiling. A giant fireplace and a picture took up almost all of the fourth wall. It was a man in ancient sailor's garb. He had wild coal black hair that seemed to be whipped about his head by some terrible wind. His eyes were the strangest shade of blue Reagan had ever seen. She wondered how the artist had managed to create that shade of paint. He stood on board the deck of a ship and by all appearances he was the captain. She stared at the picture for a few minutes then shrugged her shoulders. Her father had told her many stories of pirates and the men who brought them to justice. She figured he must have liked the stories enough to put the picture there as well. On the long table in the center of the room was a heavy book bound with a golden filigree cover. She had to kneel on the chair to see it and use two hands to lift the front cover. It seemed to be the story of the McAllister family starting with the pirate captain Donal na Cara. She skimmed a few pages then decided if she got too involved with it she would lose most of the day just reading in this wonderful room. There was far much more to see in this remarkable place and she intended to see as much as she could before Marjorie came looking for her. She climbed down from the chair and walked toward the double doors noticing something on the picture she hadn't seen before. She turned back to the table and dragged a chair close to the fireplace for a better look. On tiptoes she peered closer at the medallion around the old pirate captain's neck. It was larger, much larger but it was almost identical to the one she wore on the thin gold chain around her own neck. She wondered if the captain ever figured out what the words etched on the circle had meant. Perhaps the answer was here in this very house, maybe in this very room. She jumped from the chair and dragged it back to the table. One more look at that book couldn't hurt.

She spent two hours in the library before resuming her exploration of the manor.

By the time Reagan had thoroughly investigated the rooms on the first floor, which included a parlor that was mostly just for sitting, a den that included a full bar and a French glass door that opened to a huge patio, the dining room, the kitchen, the library, a long dusty sun room with many thirsty plants, and the main foyer, she was having more than a hard time ignoring the raging pain in her ear. She placed her hand over it and pressed hard, that pressure seemed to help. She had climbed to the top of the stairs hoping to begin her investigation of the second floor. Instead she sat there resting her head on her hand and her elbow on her knees. She hadn't needed her sling that morning. Her arm seemed to feel much better than it had in the past few days. Right now she would gladly trade this earache for that minor discomfort. The staircase wound in a giant arch around the perimeter of the main foyer and from her vantage point she could see the pattern in the marble floor below. It was that same circular shape. That gold circle with the four blue dots seemed to be an integral part of this estate and this family. There was something about it that made her feel safe, perhaps it was the fond memories of her father it brought back to her.

"Hey there, how's the great explorer?" Marjorie asked from the foot of the stairs. "Ready to come back to base for some lunch?" She asked as she used a big feather duster to tidy some of the tables in the foyer. "I've got some sliced turkey and fresh baked bread. If you're interested?" She started toward the kitchen.

Reagan stood quickly, regretting the action immediately. The room seemed to spin and she grabbed the railing for support. She squeezed her eyes shut as tightly as possible and waited for it to stop. That brought a sting to her swollen right eye, but the dizzy feeling was just a little worse. Slowly she opened one eye at a time and stood for a moment testing the stability of her world. It seemed to have passed. She took a tentative step, still good. She took two steps, nothing. Three, four, five…'must have gotten up to fast' she told herself. The girl took the rest of the stairs with ease.

Marjorie had already set a plate at the breakfast nook in the sunny kitchen. Reagan ate slowly, mostly pushing the food around on her pale yellow plate. 'Was it possible your ear could hurt from chewing?' Her stomach suddenly didn't feel very well either. She remembered once she had spun and spun around on a swing watching the clouds twirl above her. When she stopped her stomach had felt pretty much like it did now. Kind of like it kept spinning even after she had stopped. She didn't like the feeling.

"So did you find anything interesting?" Marjorie asked as she placed a large glass of milk on the table in front of her.

"Did you know me and Payton are the first girl children born in this family since the 1800's?" She asked suddenly proud of what she had learned about her family history.

"You don't say." Marjorie raised her eyebrows in that way adults do when children tell such stories. "Imagine that! I guess that makes you and Payton pretty special."

"I read it in that big book on the library table." She nibbled the edge of her sandwich. "It said that when two daughters are born of separate lines the circle shall be closed." She wrinkled her nose as she recalled the words she had read over and over. "What do you suppose that means? The circle shall be closed." It sounded almost mystical.

Marjorie shrugged her shoulders, half-listening to the child's tale of adventure.

"Do you think it means us, me and Payton?" Reagan's eyes went wide with the idea that she and her sister could be part of those ancient words.

"Could be." Marjorie nodded, noticing the girl had barely touched her meal. "What's wrong honey, don't you like turkey?"

Reagan looked down at her plate and quickly picked up the sandwich. "Oh, yes. Yes, I like turkey. I like it a lot." She took a bite and chewed slowly, wincing at the dull pain in her ear as she swallowed. She set the sandwich back down. "I guess I'm not very hungry after all those hotcakes this morning."

"Mm hmm," Marjorie breathed. "Perhaps you overdid it just a bit this morning. I think a nice nap would do you wonders."

"I'm too old for naps." Reagan laughed weakly, resting her sore ear once again on her hand.

"Yes well, tell that to Henry. He's probably four times your age and he is more than likely snoozing as we speak." She took the plate from the girl, placed it on the counter top, and stepped back allowing Reagan to exit the bench.

Marjorie was kind, but Reagan could tell she was not someone to argue with on this subject. She was feeling a bit sleepy; maybe that was the problem. "Can I just rest on that big couch in there?" She pointed toward the den. It was a long walk to the bedroom she had used the night before and she wasn't quite sure she wanted to be on those stairs if that dizzy feeling came back suddenly.

"I don't suppose that would hurt anything." Marjorie smiled. "And that way I can make sure you do sleep and not further your higher explorations." She took the child by the shoulders and steered her in the direction of the den.

"You'll wake me before Payton comes home? I don't want her to think I'm a baby." She yawned as she curled into a ball on the fluffy pillows in the corner of the overstuffed settee.

"It's a deal." Marjorie agreed but Reagan was already asleep.

Colin was frustrated. No he was far past frustrated, he was past angry, he was livid. He arrived at Brisbey at 10:00 a.m. and went directly to the headmistress' office but she was not in. Miss Lynn had been quite evasive at first, hemming and hawing around his questions. She simply stated the administrator was not there and she did not know when she would return. He said he would wait and parked himself on one of the chairs in the office. He drummed his fingers on his briefcase and watched the young secretary as she did everything and anything to avoid eye contact with him. After a half an hour he stood and approached her desk.

"Well, Miss Lynn since your Miss Thorne seems to be out, it gives me the opportunity to speak with you…." He stood staring down at her. She swallowed and nodded slowly.

All in all, the girl wasn't much help. She had seen Reagan in the office a few more times that any of the other girls but she had never been in the inner office with the child and Miss Thorne. Miss Thorne didn't speak to her very much except to give her orders or assignments. She hadn't ever heard anything from the inner office. She didn't really pay attention and the doors and walls were very thick, she was sure of that. Yes, several times when Reagan left the office she had been crying and a few times she hadn't seen her leave at all. Miss Thorne had a private exit in the rear of her office and she could have used that. No, she didn't know why she would have to leave that way. No she had never seen bruises on the child when she left. And NO she could not allow him to enter Miss Thorne's office when she was away. NO ONE entered that office without Miss Thorne's permission. He left the office with very little information. He made it a point to tell the young secretary to contact him immediately should the headmistress return or call her office.

The trip to the dormitory hadn't helped at all either. The house matron had allowed him into Reagan's small room. The kid had very little to speak of, and the woman was not happy with the fact that she was asked to pack it all into a few boxes and have it delivered to his car. Other than a few books and the usual amount of clean undergarments and stockings, her belongings consisted of one clean white blouse, an extra uniform, a dark blue sweater and an old scrapbook. He shook his head as he picked up a small picture frame from the dresser. The image of Jack McAllister smiled at him; his arm draped casually over the shoulder of a smiling younger woman and Reagan standing between them. Taped to the small photograph was a cut out image of Payton, he recognized it from an article in LIFE magazine. He tucked the frame into his inside jacket pocket and turned to leave. He spotted a tattered one-eyed black and white stuffed bear against the small pillow on the bed. He picked it up and stared at it. "I don't suppose you have anything to tell me do you?" He asked it before stuffing it under his arm.

His conversation with Pamela Sinclair told him one thing. This child was more terrified than the one he had left in the city the day before. He wondered if she too should be taken from the institution for her own safety. Pamela assured him that Miss Thorne had never hurt her and that she had never, ever been inside that office. She recounted her trip to the library and how she found Reagan that morning. She told him, almost word for word, exactly the same story that Reagan had told him the day before. It seemed to be a little to practiced and given time he certainly could use his interrogation skills to find out exactly what the girl wasn't telling him. But she was just a child, a frighten child and he needed to move carefully or scare her off completely. When he asked if she believed Reagan the girl shrugged her shoulders and refused to meet his eye. Her only answer after that had been "I don't know, sir." He was sure someone had scared this child into silence and he was pretty sure he knew who that was.

The older man that carried the three small boxes to Colin's car seemed to give him the best lead he had all morning. He had asked the man if he had seen the headmistress since he reported for work that day. The man explained he had recently started working at the facility and hadn't even met the woman face to face. He told Colin the previous man had left unexpectedly and he had been sent by a local employment agency to fill in immediately. He was very tired since he had to meet a stone mason very early that morning to have a stone bench in the library garden replaced. The man thought it strange that the bench should be replaced before sunrise, but the mason had insisted that was his order. Colin asked if he knew why the bench was replaced. The man shrugged his shoulders. Some sort of vandalism the mason had told him, he did not elaborate. After placing one box on the floor of Colin's car and the other two on the passenger seat the man agreed to show the young lawyer where the bench had been placed. The girl had said she met Reagan at the library that morning, the bench was replaced in the library garden. Perhaps there was a connection. Colin had nothing else to go on, this was worth a shot.

They walked slowly to the glade. The bench was new and stood out starkly in comparison to the others in the area. It was bright white compared to the weathered look of the older benches. The maintenance man had no idea where the other bench had gone, he hadn't thought it was important to ask. Colin thanked the man who excused himself explaining he had a few other duties to complete before the morning ended. Colin walked around the bench examining the small area. There were plenty of rose bushes and thick shrubbery but certainly no tree worth climbing. In fact they hadn't passed one tree on the way to this glad that was even possible to climb. Most of the arbors were ancient with trunks at least ten feet around and branches so high it would take a cherry picker to reach even the lowest of them. If Reagan had managed to climb into any of those trees, a fall would probably have left her dead. He sat down on the bench and shook his head, considering the walk across campus to the staff's quarters. There were hundreds of trees across the grounds with any luck he might find something but, even if something were here it certainly would have been washed away by four days of rain. He stood and headed for the library building, hoping to find someone there who saw something that morning. A small yellow object sticking out of the mud caught his eye. He bent to retrieve the sodden, dirty piece of scrap. A large leaf stuck to one side of what appeared to be a small card. The lawyer gently pried the two items apart and smiled at the prize in his hand. It was wet and smudged but clearly it was a Brisbey library card. In bold black and just a bit drippy letters was the name 'REAGAN McALLISTER'. He took his handkerchief from his pocket and carefully wrapped the card inside it then placed it in his inside pocket next to the small picture frame. He turned and headed back to the administration office.

The headmistress had not returned and now there seemed to be some concern. She hadn't called at all that morning and had not answered her private line either. One of the senior staff members had been dispatched to Miss Thorne's private cottage residence and returned even more concerned. She had not answered the bell and all of the curtains were drawn shut. A strange sense of apprehension filled the office as the young secretary desperately tried to keep some sense of order while at the same time put some plan of action into gear. Since her arrival at Brisbey, Miss Thorne never missed a day; she was never late and NEVER left anything to chance. If she was not answering her calls or her bell there was some sort of trouble. The older teacher insisted the police should be called. Colin had listened to the frantic exchange between the cackle of women in the small office. He stepped forward and agreed that it seemed like a good idea to involve the authorities. All they seemed to need was someone else validating their concerns, agreeing there was reason to panic. Vicky Lynn picked up the phone and dialed the local police department.