BEN

Beibe insisted Tracy and me join him for breakfast at his apartment. It’s a nice place, big, airy. The kid liked it; he could run circles around everything. I had to stop myself from reaching out and blocking him every time he galloped past. Guess little boys are all the same. It wasn’t my hand that finally stilled Nathan, is was one look from John. The kid dropped to his behind at John’s foot and sat quietly while we finished our talk.

“You reviewed everything Thorne and O’Leary put together for you, right?”

I nodded, I kinda looked through it. All stuff made to look like I really did it, lived a whole life in this time. Didn’t matter none to me. I found myself looking to watch Tracy, fussin’ in the kitchen with Riley instead of listening to Biebe talk.

“You listening to me?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

He drew in a long breath and grunted. “Ben, listen, man. You gotta know this shit inside and out. People are gonna be asking you questions and you have to know the answers … the same answers every stinking time. Now … how long have you been a resident of Stowe, Vermont?”

I shrugged. “Couple months?”

“No, Ben,” be huffed. “According to the background … and the fucking law … you’ve been a resident for two years. You’re mailing address is here at the Inn. You traveled a lot, consulting various towns on small community police practices … but this is your place of residence. Okay, next question. Where were you before you came to Stowe?”

“Arizona.” I knew that one was right.

“Where in Arizona?”

“Ah …”

Biebe spouted the correct answer, not even looking at the files. “Snowflake, Arizona. Ten years as a police officer. Where did you get your degree?”

“Degree?”

He rolled his eyes, pushed the file folder at me. “Listen, buddy. The local press or state officials ask you any of these questions and you don’t know the answers, you can kiss your chances to win the election goodbye. You’re one lucky puck that the state hired Cory to do that documentary on your campaign. There’s not much chance he’ll out you, but someone else, especially those working for your opponent, will hook onto anything and everything that’ll discredit you.”

I blinked, trying not to worry about this shit.

“A lot of people have done a lot of work to make this happen for you, Ben. Every single detail in that background dossier can be qualified and confirmed. Terry and Dino don’t fuck around. Don’t be letting them down, damnit.”

“Yeah, yeah, I understand.”

“Now, about living arrangements. You and Tracy? Marriage plans?”

“Uh.”

“Where are you planning to live?”

Again I looked for Tracy and like she could tell I needed her, she came to sit on the sofa arm at my side. “Where would you like to live, darlin’?”

She grinned. “Paris?”

“Not unless it’s within the county,” grunted Biebe. “Lachlan’s working with a real estate agent, maybe you can help Ben through that process and find the perfect house for you two,” he said, talking over me to Tracy like I wasn’t even there.

“Maybe she don’t want a house,” I sniped.

“Every woman wants a house,” John responded.

“You live at the Inn,” I hissed.

“I own the Inn. And besides … like I said, every woman wants a house …right Riles?” he called and she poked her head around the bend.

“Ben, you and Tracy are welcome here forever … but really. Some privacy to start your lives together? Now wouldn’t that be wonderful?”

I looked to Tracy who had that dreamy, moony look in her eyes. Looked like I was buying a house. Looked like I was gonna be doing a lot of things I never, ever thought I’d be doing … starting with memorizing everything in the dossier.

ANTONY

Claudia was excited. Already her things, long packed away in storage, were being delivered to the small guest cottage near the pond. I strolled around the truck, watching the men carry pieces of furniture, boxes and bundles into the place and up to the second floor where we’d be living. It was considerably larger than my single room at the Inn and I too felt a charge of eagerness to set up housekeeping all our own.

On the first floor, contractors were hired to develop two separate large rooms. One will contain my observation equipment. Monitors, computers, everything I was using in the cramped office behind the pub would be reinstalled in the large place. Granted, when I’m not on duty, one of the other guards would be, so at all times someone would be below our apartment. But this did not concern me. It actually comforted me to know I could be easily reached in case of an emergency.

The second large space would be designed for Claudia’s business. Already she had several clients. The home nursing service business is a good one, and she assured me that as soon as she was set up and could hire a few more health professionals, it would grow. Something told me that soon we would both have full control of our work … and far more control of our leisure.

I entered the cottage and followed the movers up the stairs. Boxes, lamps and various pieces of furniture were crowded and cluttered all around. Later, after they were gone, I would do as Claudia pleased with the furniture and arrange things to her specifications. But … the things around me … they suddenly spoke to my very soul.

A large table, inlayed pieces of teak and mahogany in beautiful designs … my hand tenderly smoothed over the dusty surface. Nearby a clock, as tall as me, brass moving parts flashed through fingerprinted beveled glass. The face was large and bold, inviting with delicate gold pictures of the moon at all her phases. Near my knee was a box filled with photos. I knelt and fingered frame after frame.

Claudia’s life … her things … her energy engulfed me and I found myself enthralled by the weight and depth and pleasure of it.

“What are you doing?” She leaned against the bedroom doorjamb, smiling and watching me. I held a brass framed picture. “My father.” Then I raised another. “My niece, Alexis.” And another. “That’s my grandmother. She was a nurse too.”

“Claudia?” I asked quietly and she moved closer but did not sit with me on the floor.

“Yes?”

“Are you pleased with your life? With me?”

“Come, let me show you something.”

I stood and followed. Inside the bedroom all was confusion and clutter … except for a very large bed, thick mattresses, elegantly covered with silken blankets and many pillows.

“I bought this bed just before I came to Vermont.” She tugged me to sit on it. “I’ve never slept in it.”

“Oh?” I gazed around, stretched my neck to the view out the window; watch the moving van pull away and leave for the gate.

“Yes. It was the most important thing I asked of the movers. They offered to put everything in place, even to help unpack boxes, but I told them all they had to do was put this bed together. I made it up with the new sheets I bought, these new pillows …”

I repeatedly interrupted her explanation, my hands and mouth could not resist her, my fingers made quick work of eliminating bits of her clothing. Occasionally I grunted, pretending to listen, but the bed was far too inviting … the linens too fine and soft … and her flesh … far too enticing.

“So I’m guessing,” she gasped as I pressed her to the decadent mattress and stood to strip, “that you like the idea of christening this new bed with me?”

“Claudia … please forgive my bluntness … but I approve of anything that involves your flesh … and this bed … and me. Come, let me love you until we sleep, for tomorrow we have the rest of our new home to … explore.”

KIM

I’ve started making some inquiries and I’m even more certain that the head of housekeeping is behind a growing list of missing and misplaced items belonging to the Inn. I’ve spoken to the manager of our laundry service contractor, and he’s going to e-mail me the inventory numbers for the past three months later this afternoon. I’ve already spoken to Clari; she’s the one employee on the housekeeping staff who isn’t afraid to look me in the eye and tell me to go to hell, and to be honest, I find that refreshing. She shows up on time, doesn’t have a cell phone attached to her ear when she’s supposed to be working and I’ve never had a complaint about her from anyone, aside from comments about her wearing combat boots and fishnet stockings with her uniform. I think I’ve let her get away with dressing like she does simply because when she’s on the clock she’s focused on doing her job. You don’t hear about her boyfriend or what she did the night before or who she’s sleeping with and you don’t hear her gossiping about the other employees.

I’d caught up with her earlier this morning right after she started her shift. I made a point of calling housekeeping and asking for one of the staff to bring an extra set of trash bags to the office and when she entered the office I asked her to sit down and chat for a tic.

If she was surprised by my sudden show of cordiality she didn’t let on, but she took the chair across from my desk and sat down, looking a little bit bored but attentive nonetheless. I decided to just lay my concerns out on the table.

“Clari, I need your opinion on something that’s been brought to my attention and I know you’ll give me a straight answer.” I leaned my elbows on top of my desk, steepled my fingertips before me. “I’ve been noticing that a number of items have been turning up missing and I need to know if you’ve noticed any shortages with the housekeeping inventory; you know, cleaning supplies, linens, blankets, that sort of thing?”

She considered a moment before answering, but her eyes never wavered from mine. “Mr. Barrett, I’ll be candid with you. The whole housekeeping staff knows that stuff has been missing and they’ve all reported it to Phyllis at one point or another.”

All right then; the noose was tightening. “Do you know what, if anything, Phyllis has done to help correct the problem?”

Clari made a sound that was a cross between a laugh and a snort. “Since we’re being honest and all cozy like, I’ll let you in on something I know about Phyllis, and then I need to get back to work.” She leaned forward and rested her elbow on the edge of my desk. “You’re aware of her salary, right?”

I nodded. It was fair, nothing spectacular.

Clari continued. “But did you know that she just finished adding a four hundred square foot addition to her home? During this time, she also managed to purchase a new state of the art home theater system for this new addition and booked a cruise to Alaska for later this summer for her vacation.” She got up to leave and turned to go but glanced back before heading out the office door. “She tells the staff that she sells antiques and other items that she picks up from local flea markets on eBay and makes an absolute killing. Log on sometime and try looking up the name House of Phyllis.”

“House of Phyllis?”

Again she made that funny laughing/snorting sound. “Yeah, I had the same reaction when I heard it myself. She imagines herself to be a real savvy online entrepreneur.”

She smiled and I’ll be damned if she didn’t wink at me before turning to go. I watched the door for a moment after she left and considered all she had told me. My mind kicked into overdrive and I dialed up eBay on my laptop and set about to do some more sleuthing. If I find what I think I’m going to find, I don’t know how I’m going to break it to Emily.

NATALIE

I had talked with both Jack and Kevin that morning on the progress on our house and it was clear: we will be moving at the end of summer. The weekend after Labor Day in fact. The house will be completed and the furniture in place. All it will need at that point is us.

I was terrified.

It will be the first time I’ll be truly on my own since my suicide attempt. The first time I’ll be on my own with the babies without Riley or Mere to lend a hand or answer questions. The first time Jack and I will be together without our family, our safety net of support. What if something happens to the girls? What if Jack and I find we can’t live together? What if I fail?

I couldn’t talk to Jack about my worries. He’s scheduled to begin the summer cruise this week and neck deep in preparations. I couldn’t talk to Riley; she’s got enough on her mind. She almost lost John in that Portal crisis and it wasn’t the time to burden her with my problems.

So, I made the only choice I had left. I vowed never to use him as a crutch and after our last session, I was determined never to warm his couch again. I dialed Siggy.

JESSIE

The past couple of days are a blur for me right now, having been hit with my first round of morning sickness so severe that all I can do is lay in bed, eat saltines and drink lukewarm 7Up. And what I want to know is why everyone calls it morning sickness; all day sickness is more like it. Smells, sounds, even bright colors are enough to trigger a wave of nausea so severe that I feel like I’m tied to the bathroom. So, this is what I get to look forward to during this pregnancy? There’s so much to do and normally I’d be up helping Lachlan set things in order, but all I can do is just lie in bed and try to get my stomach to catch up to my head. Poor Lach, I feel so terrible. I ended up chasing him out of our suite and he headed down to the pub to give me a chance to try and rest.

We arrived at the Inn just yesterday. The flight wasn’t bad, but since Lachlan’s not able to drive yet because of all the hardware on his leg, I’m still the designated driver for a few more weeks. The morning sickness hadn’t been too bad up until then; I was mostly feeling tired from the stress of moving, although I have to admit that Lachlan handled most of the technicalities. He even arranged the transportation of our belongings and insisted on paying for it himself. When I tried to tell him that it wasn’t right and that I could contribute my fair share, he gave me a look that bordered on something between amusement and irritation.

I had just assumed that we would split the cost; moving everything across country wasn’t cheap and I’m used to paying my own way. But he wouldn’t hear of it.

“I’ll handle everything.”

I watched him drink his coffee as we sat at the kitchen table after breakfast. It was our last Sunday in San Diego and we were discussing some of the last minute arrangements while he jotted down figures on the back of a brown paper bag.

“But you can’t pay for all of it.” God, I so wanted a cup of coffee for myself, but I’ve had to swear it off until the baby is born. Just the smell of it brewing was enough to drive me to edginess. “I have a little money saved up, you know.”

He sat down his pen and that’s when I got the look. “It’s not up for discussion and everything’s already been paid for. Save your money for later.”

“But you can’t pay for all of this. It’s not fair.”

He smiled then, his eyes lighting up as he reached over to pat my leg. “I already have. And what’s fair is that I get you and the baby in the bargain. Save your energy and worry about arranging the wedding instead.”

Oh yeah, the wedding. Lachlan insists that we get married as soon as possible. Don’t get me wrong; I love the idea, but maybe I’m just a product of my time bumping heads with a wonderful man who happens to have some rather old fashioned notions. I don’t see the need to rush into getting married simply because I’m pregnant; we can take our time and make arrangements as we go along, but that’s not the way things are done according to Lachlan Curry. Although I know that he’s thrilled about our baby, I also realize that he’s a product of his time and there’s still the stigma of embarrassment surrounding our situation. I don’t feel it myself, but I can’t criticize his values. I fell in love with the old fashioned side of his personality as surely as I fell in lust with his beautiful sweet smile. It’s comforting to know that he’s that that kind of man; steadfast, traditional and ready to take on the responsibility that we’re creating together.

But morning sickness … anyone know how long this lasts?

LACHLAN

I really didn’t need to be sitting in a pub before three PM, but Jessie was finally resting after running back and forth to the bathroom all morning and I was beginning to get a crick in my neck from watching her; she reminded me of a bouncing ping pong ball. At least now I could watch ESPN and not worry about the noise upsetting her dodgy stomach. I gave Jeff Mitchell a yell and he was just finishing up with work in the left tower and agreed to meet up and share a few pints. 

It’s funny; seeing him is kind of like revisiting the old days in a way. We’d been fairly close mates at one time, but after everyone started going their separate ways we never were able to meet up later like we had always promised. I reckon that real life just has a way of doing that. East, Johnny, Arthur, Dominic, Jack Corbett, Egan, Steve … we’d all promised that we’d stay in touch, but for one reason or another, we all drifted apart. Every so often I’m lucky if I get an e-mail or Christmas card, but for the most part, the divide between us grows wider with each passing year. However, Barrett found his way back; maybe it’s all just a matter of time before the others do the same.

I was sitting at the bar chatting with Daisy, reflecting on all these things when I heard Mitchell’s voice calling out as he came up behind me.

“Word is that you’re getting married, Curry. Good onya. Guess that means I buy the next round.”  He plopped down on the barstool beside me and clapped me on the shoulder. “About time, I’d say. I always imagined you with a house full of nippers by now. You’re gonna have to work at it to make up for lost time.” He smiled as Daisy came over and ordered us each a beer.

“Good to see ya, mate.” I clapped his shoulder back in return. “But I think Jessie has some say in the matter. Last week she was telling me how excited she was about the baby and now she’s so green with morning sickness that she can barely stand the sight of me.”

“Threw you outta the room, eh? Bet that’s a first.” He gave a chuckle and thanked Daisy.

“And what about you? Thought you were hot and heavy with someone.”

“Well, so did I. But it just started going bad. We both worked different hours and after a while it was more like we were just ships passing in the night. When even that stopped happening, well, you know how it goes.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, mate.” I really was. Mitchell may be a poofter, but he’s solid gold kind of bloke in any category. “Think you’ll end up staying here a while? You never know – I may be need needing a good plumber. I’ve got my eye on old lady Fuller’s place. It’s been on the market for the past three years but she refuses to sell for one reason or another, but I’m gonna try my best to win her over. Seems everyone wants to turn it into a B&B or section it off into apartments, and she’s a real strange bird, from what I can tell. She’s owned the house for over fifty years and before that her late husband’s family owned it for another fifty. Rumor has it that the house is haunted, but it’s a beaut of an old place.”

“Fuller … isn’t she the old bird who shows up at all the funerals in town? I heard about her from Riley one time – owns a lot of real estate and drives her tenants batty.”

“That’s her. She lives in town because it’s easier for her to get around, but the house isn’t too far from the Inn and it’s just bonzer. Three stories, five bedrooms, three and a half bathrooms, a balcony off the master suite, four fireplaces, masses of gingerbread, a big front porch and a huge yard. I’ll just bet that the woodwork inside is all original, too.”

“Sounds like the perfect place to raise a big happy family.” He gave me a knowing wink. “If you can talk her into selling, you may just need a plumber. Those old houses are notorious for their antiquated septic systems and leaky pipes. The Inn’s having the same problem. I told Riley and John that if they want the job done right that they’re going to need to close down the entire left tower so I can get in there and do the job proper.”

“So you’re thinkin’ of staying on after all?” I caught myself crossing my fingers.

He scratched his forehead and gave a heavy sigh. “I don’t know. I don’t really have a lot to go back to, so in a way I guess it doesn’t really matter one way or another.”

“Maybe it would do you some good to be around family again. I mean, it’s not like you wouldn’t run the chance of meeting anyone new or interesting somewhere along the line up here. Stowe isn’t New York City, but it’s not the Outback, either.”

“And what would you know about that?”

I laughed. “Enough to know that there’s plenty of blue collared men of a certain persuasion for you to choose from, if the mood strikes you. Besides, you have to stick around long enough to be my best man.”

He did the classic double take maneuver; his neck almost gave an audible snap. “You’re serious?”

“I am. You know, now that I’m back and have so much to look forward to, I’ve had time to think about all the things I really miss, and you’re one of ‘em.”

“Lach, I’d be honored. When’s the date?”

“As soon as possible; probably at the end of August. Jessie will just be starting to show and I don’t want to push it much further beyond that.”

He grew quiet for a moment, his brows furrowed and lips pursed as if he were considering all his options. Then he grinned and nodded before finishing off his beer. “I guess I’ll have to stay at least until then, mate.” He sat his now empty glass down on the bar with a resounding thud.  “As to what happens afterwards, I’ll leave it open ended for now.”

Looks like I’ve killed two birds with one stone; the Inn will have its master plumber and I’ve got one of my best mates back for a time. But I’m bettin’ money that he’ll end up staying for the winter.

RICHIE ROBERTS

Okay, I was as polite as I could be. I met with John Biebe, let him talk and talk and talk around in circles. Poor dude really thought I didn’t know what was going on; didn’t realize I’d stepped right out of a movie. Alright, I could’ve stopped him but it was kinda fun to watch him struggle.

“I still want a timeshare,” I jeered.

“Fine,” his growled. “You got one. Now … I can see nothing I’ve said is making any great impact on you, so now I’m gonna give you the real reason I wanted you here.”

“Real reason? Who gives a fuck? I popped in, I’ll probably just pop back to my other life in the blink of an eye. What’s it matter?”

And that’s when my ears really perked up. As a lawyer, I usually listen pretty good, but I’ll confess, I hadn’t been seriously listening to Biebe. Maybe I was thinking it was all … I dunno … like a silly dream or something. Then words like Portal and vortex … danger to all of us … maybe even a fate worse than death came into his one sided conversation and I think I started to feel kinda sick. See, something inside was telling me he was telling the truth. After all, it had been way too real … more real than before.

It took hours and more than four beers, but he finally got it all out, leaving me pretty fuckin’ speechless. “So,” I finally said, thinking so hard my head started to ache. “You’re saying I can’t go back. That I can’t even think about going back or I’ll fuck up like thirty men’s lives. That I’m … stuck here?”

“Yeah.” Spoken like a true backwoods ex-lawman.

“You’re telling me I got a mess of money and lots of help in the ‘legitimate looking identification and background’ department.”

“Yeah.”

“So,” I gulped the dregs of the last beer I intended to ever have with John Biebe. “What the fuck am I supposed to do now?”

He shrugged. “Live.” He beamed a wicked little grin. “Too bad you didn’t show up a few years ago, it was a lot different back then.”

“How?” And what he told me next had to be fucking made up. Something about a swapping lifestyle … a game … a priestess and a temple. Fuck, John might be a strange dude, but he sure had one hell of an imagination. But if it was possible, it sure would’ve been fun.

“I’m goin’ to bed,” I slurred and stood to leave the pub.

“Talk to you tomorrow, Richie.”

“Not if I see you first, Biebe.”

“Seriously. There’s more to talk about.”

I turned to see his concerned expression. Fuck, that man really believed everything he told me. He also seemed awful damn worried that I didn’t. There was something just way too curious about it all. I shrugged. “Fine. See you tomorrow.”

I crawled off to find my room and my bed. Too bad I’d be alone in it.

DAISY

“You wouldn’t believe it, Daze.” Cory laughed. “I found him hiding from me behind the storage shed.” Cory sat at the bar, updating me on his latest escapade following Ben around, taping his every move. He smirked as he grabbed more mixed nuts to pop into his mouth. “You shoulda seen his face when he saw the camera. Looked just like he was about ready to pull out the Hand of God.”

I shook my head. “You’re enjoying this way too much, Cory. Why don’t you leave the poor guy alone? Give him some space.”

“Space? Naw, can’t. The man’s running for sheriff. I’m serving the public good, providing an accurate documentation of the candidate so they can make an educated decision. Besides,” He leaned forward, whispering “I am having fun.”

“I can see that. But Cory, you’re not playing fair. You’re only following Ben around, not the other candidate.”

“Yeah, I know,” Cory pouted. “The story is Ben, not the other guy. The documentary is spotlighting his rise from a virtually unknown stranger to the town’s choice for Sheriff in a few short months. The other guy is not important.”

“Well, just be careful. Don’t push him too far or you might find yourself with a broken camera, if not something worse.”

“Daisy, he can’t do anything. I’d get it on camera and where would he be then?” Cory picked out a few more cashews from the bowl on the bar. “Don’t worry, babe. I’ll be fine and Ben wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.” He leaned over to me bar for a quick kiss, turned and sauntered out of the pub.