Epilogue: Reunion

"They should be coming from recovery now," Gordon said, looking at his watch. He and Lou were seated in the waiting room on Shelly's floor, trying to stay out of sight. Lou had a kerchief covering her red curls and a pair of slightly tinted sunglasses that hid the color of her eyes effectively. Gordon was now wearing an off-white cable knit sweater with fresh jeans and a Greek style fisherman's cap. Jeff and Lou had gotten to Portland early enough for the three of them to find a store open so Lou could purchase a new outfit, while Jeff had grabbed some of Gordon's clothes from the penthouse to bring to him. The hat was new; Gordon had seen it in the store and grinned. "I've always wanted one of these."

"I hope we can get in and out quickly," Lou said as she sat, nervously bouncing a knee up and down.

Gordon got up and peered out into the hallway. "I think they're coming... yeah, they're wheeling her back to her room."

"Good," was all that Lou said.

"Rachel's coming with Chuck. I'll go do my thing," Gordon explained, then slipped from the room.

"Hey, Rachel!" Lou heard him call, then there was just a murmuring as they spoke together. They came closer to the waiting room and Lou tried to quell her rising impatience. Finally, she heard Gordon say, "There's someone I'd like you to meet," as he guided Rachel into the waiting area.

Lou stood and faced her niece, who greeted her with an outstretched hand and a curious, "Hello."

Slipping off her kerchief and removing her glasses, Lou said, "Hello, Rachel. How's your mom?"

Rachel's face went from friendly to suspicious. She peered at this stranger, looking at her closely, then backed up a bit. "Do I know you?"

"Yes, Rachel," Lou sighed. "It's me, your Aunt Lou. The one who babysat you for four days when you were eight. You had Fifth's disease and had to be quarantined from the rest of the kids."

The young woman's eyes went wide. "Oh my God! Lou? It is really you?" She rounded on Gordon, "What the hell is this all about?"

Gordon raised his hands to waist level, palms out in a calming gesture. "It's okay, Rachel, it's okay."

"How do you know her?" Rachel asked bluntly, not pleased at all at this turn of events.

"It's not so much a matter of how he knows me as much as it is how I know him," Lou replied before Gordon could answer. "I was a very good friend of his late mother and knew him when he was just a little bologna loaf in the hospital."

Gordon looked affronted. "I was never a bologna loaf!"

"Yes, you were. You and Alan both," Lou retorted. She turned to Rachel. "I changed my hair and eye color so I could go underground after the attack in Asheville. That's the reason your Mom has had to contact me via email. I didn't want anyone knowing what I looked like."

"But why are you here, Aunt Lou?" Rachel asked, now bewildered. "How did you hear about Mom's accident?"

Lou sighed again. "Hon, what has your mother said about what happened to her yesterday?"

"She hasn't said much that didn't sound all confused," the young woman said, her face wrinkling in a concerned expression. "She said something about a terrible man and wanted to know where you were."

The older woman exchanged glances with the younger man. He shrugged. "Sit down, Rachel," Lou said. "I have to make this quick before your father comes looking for you. Yesterday, a really nasty man that I know kidnapped your mother and made her call me. He said he'd kill her if I didn't bring him something he wanted. I called some friends--Gordon here is one of them--and they helped me get from where I was to Portland in time to meet with this man. He took me to your mother, then he drugged me and was going to take me away. But before he left, he was going to kill her."

"No!" Rachel gasped. "Then... then what happened? The people who brought her in said it was a car accident!"

"Rachel, I was one of those who brought her here," Gordon said gently. "I said what I did to protect her and to protect myself. The wound your mother got on the back of her head was from the bullet he fired."

"Where is this man now?" Rachel asked, her voice full of fear. "He... He could be looking for her right now! I've got to go protect..."

"Rachel!" Lou said sharply, grabbing the young woman's arm as she tried to rise. "He's not looking for her. He's not doing anything any more. He's dead."

Wide-eyed, Rachel sat down with a thump. "Dead? How? Who killed him?"

"I don't know who killed him," Lou said bluntly. "I just know that someone did." She softened her voice. "I need to see your mother. I'm sure she remembers just about everything that happened but she doesn't know what's happened to me. I need to see her and reassure her that I'm all right. Will you help me by getting your father out of the room?"

"I suppose I can. But... about this dead man. Do the police know? Are they going to come and ask her questions?"

"As far as I know, the police don't realize this has happened," Gordon explained. "I don't even know that anyone has reported your mother's condition as a car accident yet. Everyone would have assumed that I did it. But someone is going to report it very soon, and probably the police will be here sometime this afternoon to question your mom."

"Rachel, please. Help me out here," Lou asked wearily. "I'd like to see for myself that your mom's okay, too. But with your dad in the room... you know what kind of reception I'd get. And there would be too many questions that I can't answer."

"Okay. I'll see what I can do," Rachel said. She reached out to touch the beauty mark. "Wow. You really do look different."

"You think I look different? You should hear me. I've usually got a southern drawl going," Lou said with a smile.

"I'll try to get Dad out of the room. It won't be for long, though," Rachel said as she rose.

"I know. That's one thing I like about your dad; he really loves your mom," Lou replied. "Oh, and Rachel?"

"Yes, Aunt Lou?" the young woman asked, turning just as she was about to go out the door.

"Don't tell anyone I've been here. You can discuss it with your mom in private, but no one else, please?"

"I'll try," Rachel replied. Then she stepped through the door and was gone.

Gordon leaned, hands in his pockets, against the wall just inside the doorway so he could keep an eye on Shelly's door. "She's inside." He glanced over at Lou, who was putting the kerchief over her hair again. "Don't you like your brother-in-law?"

"Not particularly," she replied, tucking the curls up into the covering, her voice very matter-of-fact. "But he does love my sister deeply. That, and he's very protective of her. Both of those go a long way with me. If he ever mistreated her, though, I'd be on his case in a cold minute. And when I was through with him, they'd need a bucket to pick up the pieces."

Gordon's eyes widened for a moment as the last comment sank in. Then he went back to watching the door. "The door's opening. Yeah, he's coming out. Rachel's with him."

Lou counted silently to five, then got up and walked casually out into the hall. Gordon watched as she looked both ways before entering the room, then quickly opened the door and darted inside.

The room was a private one, for which Lou was grateful. She pulled off her kerchief and glasses as she approached the bed where Shelly lay, pale and sleepy, her leg propped up on pillows. "Shelly?"

Her sister's head turned toward the sound, then her eyes grew wide and she called, "Oh my God! Lou! Oh, thank God! Lou!" She reached out with both arms, ignoring the IV, pleading with her hands for her sister to come closer.

"Shhh," Lou cautioned, going to her and putting down the side of the bed so she could reach her sister and the outstretched arms. "Shhh. I'm here."

They embraced awkwardly, and Shelly didn't want to let go. "Oh, Lou! I was so worried. I didn't know what had happened to you! I thought for certain he had taken you somewhere and..." She choked as a first sob came and she held Lou even tighter.

"Shh, shh, calm down, Shell, calm down. I'm here; he didn't take me away. I'm here, I'm fine. You're the one I was worried about," Lou said soothingly, pulling away gently. She stroked her sister's wet face. "He didn't hurt me the way he did you. I thought you were dead! I saw him about to shoot you before I passed out." Tears welled up in her eyes and she sniffed as they coursed down her cheeks. "I was so relieved to hear that you were alive."

"I thought I was dead," Shelly said between sobs. "And I thought I'd never see you again! I was so afraid. Where is he? How did you get away?"

Lou smiled a bit. "I'll tell you what I know, but quickly. There's not much time until Chuck comes back and I don't want to meet up with him right now, okay?"

She handed her sister a tissue or two and waited a moment for Shelly to blow her nose and compose herself, while she wiped her own eyes and face dry. Then she plunged in. "How did I get away? Well, contrary to what Franks assumed, I did bring backup. They moved in, and just in the nick of time, too. They took you to the hospital, claiming you were in a car accident to avoid questions, and took me... away to a safe place where I could sleep off the drug Franks gave me."

"Franks? Where is he? Did he get away? Is he going to come..."

Lou reached over and put two fingers on her sister's lips. Shelly quieted, and Lou took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "As for Franks himself... no, he didn't get away. And he's not going to come after us or anyone else again. He's... dead."

"Dead?" Shelly echoed, her eyes growing wide again. "How? Who?"

"Yes, dead. How? I was told he was shot through the head as he tried to shoot you. As for who?" Lou shook her head. "I don't know and I'm not asking. And neither are you. Understand?"

Nodding, Shelly let out a shuddery breath. Lou waited for a second, then continued. "Now listen to me closely. The people who acted as my backup are about..." she glanced at her watch, "...have already given the police an anonymous tip on where to find Franks. Once the police get rolling on their investigation, they'll be in here to talk to you. If you prefer, you can tell your part of the story to Chuck and Rachel. Rachel has already heard from me about it, and she will believe you. So if you'd rather talk to the police on your own terms, that's the way to go."

She squeezed her sister's hand. "I'm sure they'll find traces that I've been there; hairs, fingerprints, what have you. You can tell them what happened up to the point where you were shot. But you must not tell them what I've just told you about my backup, or that I've been here. And please, don't tell them about how I look right now. If I left behind hair, that's okay; they'll be able to determine for themselves that it's been dyed and permed. But no eye color or beauty mark, okay? And no telling them the name I'm using now either. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Lou. I do," Shelly sighed. "But they'll be looking for you once I talk to them."

Lou nodded. "I know. They'll probably think that I shot him, that's why I don't want them to find me easily, if at all. So I'm going to stay with some friends for a while. But don't worry; they'll take very good care of me. You can call me on the satellite phone since you have the number, and the email address is the same. Put on a show for the police, but please don't worry."

There was a series of soft taps at the door, and Lou shot a glance at it. "I've got to go; Chuck and Rachel are coming back." She reached over to hug her sister, and kissed her on the forehead. "I love you, sis. Always remember that."

Shelly's eyes got moist again as she returned Lou's embrace. "I will. And I love you, too."

The door opened slightly, and Gordon motioned for her to hurry. Lou slid the kerchief quickly over her head, and put the glasses on as she walked to the door. Then she slipped out without looking back.

They walked back to the waiting area to watch as Rachel and Chuck approached the door to Shelly's room. They were arguing softly, and Rachel glanced quickly over toward Gordon, who gave her a thumbs up. She nodded to him, and then followed her father inside.

"Did things go well?" Gordon asked as they left the waiting room, heading for the elevator

"As well as could be expected," Lou said. "She knows that I'm okay, and I know that she is. And she knows what not to say to the police."

The elevator car came, half filled with people, and they rode down silently together. As they left the confines of the hospital and headed for the parking garage, Lou asked, "So, what are you going to do now?"

"Dad's given me permission to stay on for a day or so and visit with my friend, Paul, up in 'Bah Hah-bah' as the natives put it. Then I'm to fly the JT-1 home."

Lou chuckled at the Down East accent that Gordon assayed. "I'll see you on the island in a couple of days then," she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"Right. See you there, Aunt Lou," Gordon agreed, returning the salute.

He watched as the sleek sports car pulled up, and he opened the passenger side door for her. She slid inside, removing her kerchief as she did. "See you later, Gordon," the driver said, his smile flashing.

"See you soon, Dad," was the reply as he closed the door and turned to go in search of his own rental car.

"So, did everything go well? Are you satisfied?" Jeff asked, glancing over at her before turning out of the hospital parking area and heading to the jetport.

"Yes, to both questions," Lou replied, giving him a weary smile. "Where to now?"

"Now? A quick stop in Gardiner, New York," Jeff replied with a grin. "And after that... home."

"Around here," the sheriff's officer called. "The back door is open."

The realtor who was in charge of the house frowned. "The key isn't missing. How could anyone get in?"

Detective Janice Kaplan followed the sheriff's officer through the kitchen and stopped at the very edge of the doorway into the living room. A small, battery operated lamp was burning near one wall, and a police scanner, also battery operated, sat beside it. Both were sitting on top of a stainless steel suitcase. A jacket lay neatly folded on the floor next to the case. There was a bloodstain in the far corner, and sitting next to it, a pair of handcuffs. But Kaplan's main interest was in the body, which lay splayed out on the floor, limbs akimbo and a look of intense surprise frozen on its face. "Caucasian male, late thirties, over six foot tall, black hair, light blue eyes...," she recited as she began to enter details into her PDA. An automatic pistol lay on the floor where it had obviously fallen from the corpse's hand

"Oh my dear God!" came a cry from behind her. She whirled to find that the realtor had followed her into the house and was now staring over her shoulder, face paper white, at the corpse. She made an angry gesture to the officer behind her. "Get him the hell out of here!"

The name tag on the officer who had preceded her read, "L. Bauer", and he shook his blond head in disgust. "I don't know who scragged this poor bastard, but whoever it was must have been mighty pissed at him."

"What makes you say that, Officer?" she asked casually as she continued to record the details of her first impressions.

"Look at him, Detective! The whole top of his head was blown off!"

"Yeah. Sure." As if that gives us any clue as to the state of mind of the murderer, she thought with disdain. "Okay, let's go. Time to let the forensics gurus in here." She moved outside into the sunny day, and returned to her car, sitting in the driver's seat and sipping at the coffee she had brought with her. It looked to be another long day.