The woman in the dark sedan watched as the sleek black sports car left the estate and again a few minutes later when a sensible blue car followed. If she counted correctly, that left only one person between herself and her prey. She had waited all this time, she was patient. She could wait until the time was right. She would know when to strike. Everyone had a weakness. Even Payton McAllister.

Sleep eluded Payton despite her fatigue. She spent the better part of an hour leafing through the scrapbook Colin had handed her. It was full of newspaper clippings and magazine articles about her. It contained progress reports from her days at Brisbey and a small school photo of her taken on graduation day. There was a blurry newspaper photo of her boarding a cruise ship with a caption that accused her of 'Jumping Ship?'. She had traveled on a competitive liner during her college break. She had done it just to aggravate her father, just to make life difficult for him. At the time it was the only means she had to make the great J. McAllister squirm. The newspapers made such a deal of it. The plan backfired however when a few weeks later Jack McAllister bought the company right out from under it's owners nose! A corporate takeover it was called and Payton was fascinated by how easily her father had conquered the competitive line. There were other clippings about her riding competition during her school years. There were handwritten notes in most of the margins, at first in neat script, then in childish scrawl and later in careful youthful printing. There was no doubt in her mind about who had composed this tribute to her life and times. She couldn't imagine why. Toward the back of the large book were clippings from the headline that told the world of her father's ironic fate. They were folded neatly and tucked into the last page. There were also a few articles about her assuming her present position at the company and a small picture of Reagan stepping out of the limousine in front of the administration building at Brisbey. That sight made her shudder. She closed the book and placed it on her nightstand.

Time to face this monster head on.

Reagan wasn't sleeping. She was just about slept out. She had found a box of stationary in the drawer of the nightstand next to her bed and soon located a pen as well. She had to get a message to Pamela, even if it were just to let her know she was doing fine. The letter grew into a long description of her adventures and misadventures since she had left the school. She also reminded Pamela of her promise of silence. She assured the girl, in her letter, that she would figure out something before she returned. When she had written down every detail she folded the letter neatly and pushed it into the matching envelope. She carefully printed the address across the front. Now, if Marjorie could get her a stamp she could send it with the postman on his next trip. She wondered if the postman had brought the day's mail to the estate and then wondered how he would get inside the big iron-gate.

'There's probably one of those little mailbox things with the little red flags' she told herself trying to remember if she had seen one outside. Someone would have to drive to gate to get it. Henry! Yes, Henry would have that job! She could give the letter to Henry and he would be sure to get it to the postman. She smiled at her own logic and threw the covers off. She slid off the side of the bed and was mere inches from the floor when a familiar stern voice stopped her.

"Going somewhere?" Payton leaned against the frame of the open door, her arms folded across her chest, one eyebrow raised just a little higher than the other.

Reagan pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her bare feet on the edge of the bed. She hugged her legs, holding the envelope under both hands as she rested her chin on her knees. "Payton!" She replied innocently. "I didn't know you were there!"

"Mm hmm!" The woman pursed her lips and nodded slowly. "Guess not." She walked to the bed and stood over the girl. Placing one hand on each hip, the woman struck her most intimating pose.

Reagan looked all the way up at her extremely tall sister and gulped down her guilt. Quickly she averted her gaze and looked down at her wriggling toes. "I was…I just…I…" She told them. It was just too hard to speak to Payton when she stood so close with such an accusing look on her face. Something about Payton scared her, yet at the same time something made her feel so very sorry for her as well. Payton needed a hug, she needed lots of hugs to make up for all those she missed. Daddy had very often told her that he wished he had hugged his older daughter as much as he had hugged her. Maybe, if things worked out right, she could do that one thing for him. But right now she was having a very had time controlling the knot that had formed in her stomach. Payton didn't look happy.

"You were just going to lie back down." Payton finished for her then gently pushed the child back against the pillows and pulled the quilt back over her. She noticed the envelope. Reagan knew she did.

"I need to mail this letter." The child stately simply. She held it out to her sister.

Payton took it and read the address. She nodded and placed it on the nightstand. "Mailman is here and gone today but I'll be sure it gets delivered, if you promise to stay put!" She brought the pillows together under the girl's head propping her up into a sitting position.

Reagan huffed in that 'okay I'll do it, but I won't like it' way that most children finally resign themselves to when defeated by the logic of an adult. She folded her own arms over her skinny chest. "I'm not a baby, you know!" Her bottom lip stuck out just enough to establish a fine pout. "I told you I feel fine. I'm really am all better!"

"And I said one day in bed." Payton reminded her in a tone uncharacteristically gentle. She expertly hid the grin that the child's expression and tone brought out in her. She could not ever remember feeling such an odd feeling.

Reagan let out a long sigh and let her head drop back against the pillows. Immediately a sharp pain in her ear reminded her of the reason for her forced bed rest. She winced, just a bit, hoping Payton hadn't noticed. She tried to mask it with her own version of Payton's usual scowl.

Payton tightened her jaw muscles to suppress a smile. She sat on the bed next to Reagan and looked at her with a much better version of the McAllister scowl. She of course had had much more practice and use for it during her lifetime. Reagan's features seemed softer and more apt to carry a mischievous grin or a satisfied smirk than any semblance of intimidation. They sat for a moment silently staring at each other until Reagan's concentration broke and a smirk did creep across her face. That grew into a wide smile and in seconds the child was giggling uncontrollably. Payton wrinkled her brow, she didn't really see anything funny but found it hard to contain her own urge to join in the laughter. She was forced to look away and found herself intently studying the floral pattern in the carpet as she waited for Reagan to regain control.

"Finished?" She asked when the girl finally composed herself.

Reagan bit her lip and nodded. Her eyes could not hide the laughter still hidden there. Payton sighed and shook her head. She needed to talk to the girl and it needed to be serious. The little imp was making it very difficult. Payton tried looking at her younger sister with her most serious boardroom expression. Reagan sensed the change and her expression sobered as well. She drew a deep shaky breath waiting for whatever not so good thing Payton was about to say. More than likely it would be about how after she was well enough she would be returning to Brisbey and that this was the last time she wanted to put up with such immature nonsense. She watched her older sister intently looking for some sign of what was to come.

Payton's hair had fallen over her shoulder and hid whatever expression she had. She searched for the best way to approach the subject knowing it would be difficult if not impossible to spare the child any further pain. She raised her hand quickly to push her hair behind her ear. Her sister's reaction was as shocking as it was revealing.

The girl cringed back against her pillow immediately throwing her arm across her face and the opposite hand out in front of her. It was a natural position of defense. That combined with the quick intake of air and alarmed sigh made it perfectly clear to Payton that the child had learned to fear sudden or threatening movements. Reagan opened her eyes slowly and peeked at her older sister over the bend of her elbow. She blinked a few times. Then pulled back even farther when Payton lowered her arm and moved closer.

Payton had seen that wild-eyed look before. It had been at Brisbey so many years ago. Payton was an avid rider and spent hours working in the stables. She even made it seem like a punishment so that she would be certain to be sent there whenever she was caught in some misdirected scheme or bit of delinquency. The school had purchased a young gelding that had refused to race. The horse's owner was livid over the fact that the animal had cost him so much in time and money and then refused to earn anything back. The man, the stable master explained to the young Payton had been very abusive toward this fine creature and used a whip more often than a kind hand or a gentle word. The animal was always 'spooked' the man had told her. She needed to be quiet in his stall, gentle when she curried him. Payton thought back to the time she had spent with the beautiful golden equine. She remembered the look of fear in its eyes every time she entered its stall and how it would gradually relax as she gently brushed its fine hide and spoke reassuringly in whispered tones. She remembered tracing the fine thin scars across the animal's flanks and hating the owner she had never seen. She remembered the compassion and protection she felt for the horse. The stable master had allowed her to rename the creature. She called him Cuss, which she shortened from Custer, since she figured this would be his last stand. Over the years she had forgotten that time. Forgotten how gentle and loving she had learned to be with the great beast and how it had learned to trust her.

It had to be the kid. Somehow or other every time she was within ten feet of this kid she started remembering things she didn't even know she had forgotten. Damn this twist of fate! Damn these feelings she could neither contain nor control.

Payton reached out and took the hand Reagan held out before her. She brought it down to the child's lap then gently, very gently she reached out and took the child's arm away from her face. She held the child's hands in her own even after they were lowered.

Reagan looked at the difference in the hands before her. Payton's hands were large, her fingers long and well manicured. They felt warm and strong, more than able to protect her from the nightmare she had left in Connecticut. Her own hands were small and still held that childish chubbiness that caused her knuckles to resemble little dimples. The terrible habit of nibbling her nails made them short and unattractive.

"Reagan." Payton said quietly breaking her sister's reverie.

Reagan raised only her eyes to meet her sister's. "I'm sorry, Payton, I'm sorry." She tried to apologize without crying. She wanted Payton to see she was not a child, but somehow right now she felt like a very small, frightened little girl.

Payton reached out and gently brushed the back of her hand against the child's face. "Reagan we need to talk about these bruises." Reagan swallowed hard and drew a deep breath to quell the slowly rising panic. "I want you to tell me how you got them." Payton stated in a solemn tone. For a second time that afternoon the woman's deep blue eyes met the child's bright green searching for some way to pierce the wall between them.

Reagan's breathing grew rapid as she wrestled with the truth she knew and the lies she had used to take its place. She wanted to pull her hands from under her sister's, but they felt so safe and so warm there it was almost impossible. Her stomach churned again and the thought of losing its contents terrified her. Payton would not be as understanding as Marjorie had been. Suddenly the room felt hot and she could feel the sweat form on her head and roll across her scalp. Closing her eyes, she wished her sister away, wished herself to sleep, wished for anything that might take her away from this awful moment. Lies steeped upon lies had not made anything better and if anyone should know the truth it should be this one person. But what would happen then…what would Payton do when she knew what really happened?

Reagan chewed her bottom lip. "I fell and…" she began telling the lie she had woven, the guilt laden in a voice barely audible.

"Reagan." Payton warned in a tone that child understood immediately. "The truth." She turned her head slightly to one side and looked sternly at the girl while at the same time gently squeezing her small hands.

Reagan squeezed her eyes shut tightly and shook her head slowly.

"Reagan, tell me." Payton's voice was calm, but firm.

The girl drew a deep breath as the shield of deceit crumbled before her. "I'm sorry Payton. I know how important Brisbey is to you." Reagan ranted, her eyes still shut tightly. "I tried, I really tried, but I ruined everything. I didn't mean to do it. I'm really sorry. I'll try harder. I will. Please, please give me another chance." The words came out so rapidly Payton missed half of what was said.

"Hey, slow down!" She consoled the distraught child moving closer and placing a hand on each of the girl's shoulders. "You didn't do anything to deserve this, no matter what it was." She slid one hand down to grasp the child's in her own the asked quietly and firmly, "Who did this to you Reagan? Who?" She squeezed the girl's hand a little tighter and moved a little closer.

"She thought I ruined it, but it wasn't me. I couldn't tell on anyone, couldn't get anyone in trouble. She tried to take the knife and I cut her. It was an accident." Reagan explained a little slower and between sobs. Payton struggled to make sense of the story and to keep her temper with the child. Somewhere in this disconnected tale was the truth. She would wait until it revealed itself. "She hit me because I hurt her. She made me go to her house. She said I had to pay for the sins of the father. She said someone owed her that. She just kept hitting me and hitting me, Payton. She wouldn't stop. " Forced to relive the terror, Reagan's own wall of defense crumbled. She needed safety, comfort, someone to hold her world together. She threw her arms around Payton and cried all of the tears she had held for so long. Payton's first impulse was to withdraw, to move back and remain objective. But there was something so desperate in the child's grasp, something so familiar. It was as if she recognized the part of herself that needed the same thing. Hesitantly she put her arms around the small shaking form and hugged her. For several minutes they remained there. Reagan cried. Payton let her.

"Who, Reagan? Who did this to you?" Payton asked quietly trying not to let her growing anger show. On some level a maternal instinct clicked into place and she gently rocked the sobbing child as she rubbed a hand against her shaking back.

Reagan turned her head and rested her cheek against her sister's chest. She sniffed and stared into the corner of the room. Part of her wanted to confess everything; part of her was too ashamed to reveal any more than she already had. She shook her head as the tears once again overtook her temporary calm. She turned back to hide her face and her shame. Payton pushed her back lightly and tilted her head up to see her face. She held the girl's chin with her fingers and waited until Reagan opened her eyes.

"Trust me." She whispered, giving the girl permission to tell everything with those two words.

The last piece of the wall that Reagan had constructed to hide her secret fell away and the story that had been held there for so many months poured forth between tears and apologies. Every detail from dozing in geometry to the defacing of school property was part of the child's confession. Every trip to the administrator office was described and each incident of punishment detailed. Alexis Thorne was the monster behind Reagan's nightmare at Brisbey. Payton pulled her hands into fists so tightly her nails dug into her palms. She held her younger sister until the child was cried out and more exhausted than she had been upon her return from St. Hedwig's.

Then it was over. Reagan had finally told the tale that had haunted her for so long. Now Payton knew the whole story. Now Payton knew what she had done and how she had disgraced the McAllister name at Brisbey. She was certain Payton would want nothing more to do with her. She'd be sent away to some other school where she would try much harder not to be such a nuisance. Her head hurt from crying, hurt so much that her stomach was close to revolting as well. "Please forgive me, Payton." She sniffled and asked without making eye contact with her older sister.

Payton could not believe the child blamed herself. After all she'd been through she still thought she deserved it. "None of this is your fault." Payton reassured Reagan as she laid the child back against the pillow and brushed the stray hair away from her face. "Miss Thorne is the one who has to answer for this, Reagan."

Reagan drew a ragged breath. She sniffled in small breaths as she fought to regain control of her emotions. Without thinking she used the sleeve of her pajamas to wipe the tears from her cheeks and quickly brushed it across her nose. Payton reached for a box of tissues from the nightstand. She pulled one of the soft cloths from the box and very gently wiped the tears from the child's cheeks. Then in a very maternal fashion used a second to wipe her nose. "Blow." She commanded and the girl obeyed. Payton smiled as she rose from the edge of the bed and walked into the bathroom returning with a cup of cool water.

"Here, sometimes a cool drink helps." She held the glass out to Reagan.

Reagan took it and drank the entire contents in one long slow gulp. She handed the cup back and looked up into Payton's eyes searching for forgiveness as well as acceptance. Payton looked back, her expression a match for the young girl's. Her sins had been much greater. Hatred had caused her to push this small helpless being into peril. Jealously refused to let her heart see the love the little girl had to offer. Payton's need for forgiveness was immense, her hope for acceptance impossible and yet this little imp was melting every stone cold barrier she had set before her. The exhausted woman set the glass on the nightstand and sat back down along side her sister.

"I think we both need a rest." She tugged the extra pillows out from under the child's head and pulled the quilt up to her chin. She started to rise then changed her mind. "Mind if I share a pillow?" Payton asked with a little smile. Reagan shook her head and scooted over to allow her sister room on the bed. Payton stretched out along side the child. Neither spoke. Payton felt there was something more she should do to comfort the child, but what…she felt so inept in this situation. She remembered a time when she needed, wished so much for someone to hold her and make all the hurt go away. It was so long ago and now she didn't know how to reach out for it as her fear of rejection prevented her even trying, but the child knew exactly what she needed and was not afraid to do the reaching.

Reagan snuggled closer and rested her head against her sister's shoulder. She reached up resting a small soft palm against Payton's cheek and felt the tears there. She slid her hand down and gently patted her older sister's shoulder. Payton hesitantly raised her hand and took the smaller hand in her own. She moved her opposite arm around the child and pulled her a little closer allowing the arm to remain wrapped around the smaller shoulders as a symbol of protection. "I won't ever let anything like that happen again, Reagan. I promise." She whispered to the soft hair against her cheek. Before she realized what she was doing she kissed the top of the blonde head. Reagan nodded against her shoulder very near the edge of sleep and still too emotional to speak. Payton stroked the child's golden hair and listened to her breathing become slow and steady. She was relieved that her younger sister had found peace in sleep. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to hope for the same.

The quiet of the afternoon lulled the other occupants of Mac an Bhaird into a false sense security and things soon fell back into a normal routine. Marjorie finished the extra laundry brought about by yesterday's misfortune and put up the best pot of chicken soup she had made in years. She tiptoed to the second floor to check on her new young charge and found the McAllister sisters asleep, a small blonde head nestled comfortably next to raven black tresses. It was a strange mix of light and dark, but it brought a smile to the housekeeper's face that she rarely had for her employer.

Mostly, Marjorie had remained in her employment due to a fierce loyalty to Jack McAllister. The housekeeper had seen his fierce temper and rigid professionalism. She had also seen his gentle love for his wives, both Rebecca Montague and Jordan Ross. His soft side and his dark side seemed to balance each other. Marjorie had always seen that. It was strange now to see both those qualities manifested in each of his daughters. Jack had been a fair employer. She had come to work for him after the death of his first wife. She was more than willing to be housekeeper as well as caregiver to the child, but Payton had always been trouble. Jack had overcompensated for the time he did not have for the youngster in those early years. He overlooked her misbehavior; either afraid or unable to bring himself to give her much needed affection or discipline. Mr. McAllister knew very little about children, especially female children. He bribed and bought her behavior and when he found himself with little more than a spoiled brat he chose boarding school over parental intervention. He had a lot to learn. There was more than one time that Marjorie had to bite her lip to stop herself from saying what she really wanted to young Payton but she had learned that skill many years before. Many times as Payton grew Marjorie had to turn away before she took the dark haired hellion over her knee for some well-applied discipline. On those occasions there wasn't a dusty rug anywhere in the estate. Henry teased his wife saying that she had beaten the carpets so often they were transparent. She had often wished that Payton would meet her match or would be knocked down to size. She never expected that her overbearing employer would be conquered by a four foot nothing freckle-faced scamp. She pulled the door closed and returned to her chores. Payton was one tough cookie, but she had no defense against this adversary.

Henry's afternoon also returned to the mundane as he took advantage of the change in the weather to patch the hole in the long driveway that had caused so much turmoil two nights ago. He drove his pick up truck through the front gate on his way to the lumberyard. 'A bit of clean fill should do the trick' he thought as he bumped along in the old vehicle. Too cold and too wet for concrete to set this time of year. He planned to fill the hole with gravel, dirt and just a bit of tar before the winter snows covered the driveway. A permanent patch would have to wait until spring. An hour later the grounds' keeper drove back through the gate with his small load. He squinted as he passed the dark sedan parked a few yards from the entrance. "Strange," he said out loud to himself, "coulda swore that thing was there when I left. Now who?…" It was odd that anyone would be parked out here. There was really nothing around except for the estate and the turn off for the marina about five miles east of the main gate. Someone could be lost, he thought…or maybe someone with car troubles. He pulled his pick-up along side the other vehicle and honked the horn. When no one responded he honked again, just a little harder. Still nothing. He debated over climbing out to investigate or finishing his patching work before the late afternoon sun crept behind the dark clouds to the west. He pushed the tattered Brooklyn Dodger's cap back off his brow and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as he thought. "Ah hell!" He exclaimed as he threw the truck into gear and headed for the front gate. "If it's broke now it will be just as broke after I get that hole filled in. I'll give the sheriff a call once I get inside and have him do the investigatin'."

As Henry's pick-up disappeared behind the large black gate the dark sedan's motor suddenly hummed softly. It slowly pulled away from its resting place next to the perimeter wall of Mac an Bhaird. Behind its dark windows Alexis Thorne scowled at the fool who had ruined her plan. Certainly he would be back. The lawyer had driven by at least twice and not even turned his head. Even Payton McAllister herself had passed this morning and not noticed the vehicle, but this moron picked her out in an instant. In a way it was good, she had no idea the man was on the estate. She would have to change her plan. There were other ways. She would not be denied.