Classification: TRHA

Rating: PG

Summary: In-laws. Money. Disappearing Relatives. Just the normal trouble couples have...

Spoilers: None here.

Disclaimer: Still not mine, but at the rate I'm going, I should have a franchise soon. Property of 1013 Productions and Fox Television.
 

"I might have made it safely home, that time
But as I came round Malea the current
Took me out to sea, and from the north
A fresh gale drove me on, past Kythera."

Homer, "The Odyssey," Fitzgerald Translation, Book 9, Lines 86-90. Used without permission.

Quaestio Vexata

August 9, 1999

Frohike answered the door for me. "Mrs. Rausch, I presume."

"Yes, I am. Is Allison here?" Nobody ever accused my mother of having exceptionally good manners.

"She is. I'm Frohike, the housekeeper." Apparently he decided to run with my joke and create the charade.

"When did you get a housekeeper, Allison?"

"This morning about two hours ago. Hello to you, too, Mother."

The contrast between us had to be striking. We were both short, and both of us had red hair, but the similarity ended there. I was much less well-endowed than she was, and whereas I was dressed in a pair of denim shorts and a T-shirt that stated, "I can only please one person per day. Today is not your day"-which pretty well summed up my mood-she was immaculately attired in a pale blue linen summer suit and Ferragamo pumps. Her hair was perfectly coifed and her makeup looked positively professional, which it always does. I had my hair pulled back into a loose ponytail and I'd skipped the makeup.

This was not lost on her. "Allison, couldn't you even put something decent on for your own mother?"

"Mother, I traveled all night. I'm tired."

"Allison, if you dressed better, you'd look so much nicer." She looked around my townhouse. "You said your place was small. You didn't say it was a closet!"

"Yeah, but it's clean." I smiled lamely.

"You're raising my granddaughter in this hellhole? You can barely move in here!"

"Mother, it's not a hellhole. It's my home. And I'll thank you not to insult it." I glared at her.

"Allison, when are you going to buy another house? Someplace where you can turn sideways without bumping into something? Surely you made some money off the sale of your old place in LA."

"I made some, but housing prices are through the roof here."

"They can't be as much as in the Bay Area."

"They are. Check the real estate section if you don't believe me."

Frohike came out from the kitchen. "Mrs. Rausch, may I get you some coffee?" I half expected him to give a bow.

"That would be very nice."

She sat in the recliner and I headed for the sofa. "So Mother? How are the tournaments going?" I had to bite my hand to keep from hissing at her.

"I do expect to win a pretty good take from this one. I have some worthy opponents in this one, though."

"That's great. Miranda's just getting ready. She'll be down in a minute. Oh, and her friend Shelby is here with her. You'll get to meet her, too. She spent the night."

"I thought you were traveling."

"I had a...babysitter."

"Oh. And Miranda puts up with that?"

"She has no choice." We were getting into dangerous territory here.

"Grandma!" Miranda came bounding down the steps and raced into her grandmother's arms.

"Hello, precious!" My mother's demeanor changed totally upon seeing her granddaughter.

"Grandma, can my friend Shelby come with us?"

"I suppose so. Is she meeting us here?"

"She's right here. Shelby, this is my Grandma, Mrs. Rausch. This is my best friend Shelby."

"Hi." Shelby smiled at her nervously. In spite of her short stature, people don't tend to relax around my mother.

"And guess what? Grandma's got a limo."

"With a driver and a privacy window?" Miranda's eyes grew huge.

"Oh, wow." Shelby was shaking her head in amazement. "This is just sooo cool."

"Well, go get ready," my mother admonished. "We've got places to see and people to do." The girls ran upstairs, bubbling at the idea of going shopping in a limo, with Miranda's grandma, who happened to have a very large checkbook and an even larger soft spot for her granddaughter.

I could hear approaching footfalls coming up the walk. Finally.

"Hey, my key doesn't work!" I heard the familiar whine. I jumped up to grab the door.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in!" Two very tired men stood in front of me. Langly fell on top of me and almost knocked me over. Byers smiled weakly.

Byers stepped up to my mother and shook her hand. "John Byers."

"Eleanor Rausch."

"Happy to make your acquaintance, ma'am."

My mother then looked up to see the tall blonde wrapped around me.

"Mother. This is Langly. He's my fiance."

My mother was silent for a moment. "You're joking."

"No, Mother, I'm not."

She looked utterly stunned. It's so rare that I get to leave my mother speechless. Langly looked pretty nervous. I was starting to have fun.

"It's true." Langly yawned.

"And when did this happen?"

"Friday night, at dinner," I answered.

"But before dessert," Langly added.

"Oh, my God."

"Mrs. Rausch, may I get you some more coffee?" Frohike interjected.

"I think I need a drink. Allison, do you have anything besides that crappy tequila you always drink?"

"'Fraid not. Unless you want a beer."

"You mean to tell me you have no champagne, no vodka, no tomato juice, no OJ?"

"We do have OJ. But I don't drink mimosas or bloody Marys. Sorry."

"How long have you two been together?" Her tone was very sharp.

"Long enough, and it's not like we're underage or anything, so you can stop the third degree any time you like," Langly shot back. Oh God. This could get ugly, I thought.

Instead, my mother was slightly taken aback. He was fucking with her, and I was determined to enjoy it.

"Langly...are you aware of our family's, shall we say, financial position?" My mother is nothing if not direct.

"Oh, sure."

"So I can safely assume you want to marry her for her money."

"Huh? Ally doesn't have any money. No, I want to marry her for your money."

My mother now looked utterly shocked. Then she did something I never would have expected. She burst into laughter.

I think she was actually going to get along all right with him.
 

The girls finally completed their makeup-why it took them so long, I have no idea, but I'm not from a generation that valued cosmetics.

"Grandma, we're ready."

"Ready to thin out my wallet, that's for certain. In a minute, girls. I need to finish talking to these two." She swept her arm towards Langly and me.

"Allison, I'm not going to pretend that I understand the choices you've made, and I certainly don't like some of them. On the other hand, you've never asked for anything in your entire life. You don't suck up to me because of the size of my net worth. So this is what I'm going to do.

"You two are going to find a decent place to live. You will put the house in your two names. I will then need a copy of the sale paperwork and make the down payment."

"I have enough for a down payment, I think," I protested.

"For what, Allison? Something smaller than one of my walk-in closets? I don't think so. You're going to find something large enough to move around in, in a decent neighborhood, some place Miranda likes. And her opinion counts, because she at least has standards."

"I have standards!"

"Yes, they just happen to be low. And I know you, Allison. You'll go for way more modest than you need to. So do me a favor. For once in your life, take what's rightfully yours."

"Mother, this is your money, not mine."

"And it will be yours. And I would much prefer to give some of it over to you and Miranda than I would see it end up with your goddamn brother and his greedy wife. Honestly, that woman has no class."   Like my mother does. Not. "And I've just about had it with them bugging me for their part of the inheritance right now. It's not my problem if they can't live on $350,000 a year." Ten times my annual salary.

"What do you mean, they can't live on that?" Langly asked. "That's a fucking fortune."

"Not when you're married to Miss Golddigger of the San Francisco Bay Area. I'll tell you, I'm getting good and ready to leave provisions for each of my grandsons, and leave Dan and Cheryl $5.00 apiece. And Rob's not much better. I went with him and Laurie and the kids for dinner last week. And do you know what one of the girls said? She said, leave the money at home. Grandma'll pay. They're both living way outside their means, but especially Dan."

"You'd have to do some serious living to get outside your means at a third of a million a year," Langly commented.

"Believe me, they do. And they expect me to bail them out. In fact, they act like it's my obligation. I don't get it. You and Jason are both poor, and you don't ask for shit."

"I'm not poor, Mother. Just not rich."

"So Langly? What is it you do?"

"I do computer stuff."

"I see. Allison is nothing if not consistent."

"Not true, Mother. He's blonde."

"And obviously Not Jewish."

"Good call." Langly informed my mother. He was playing with her now. And she was enjoying it.

"Oh, Mother. The last one was Jewish, and you couldn't stand him."

"I never said I couldn't stand Eric."

"You didn't have to say it, Mother. It was blatantly obvious."

"Allison, you're being unfair."

"Uh, I have a question." Langly was looking like he was ready to fall asleep.

"Yes?" My mother beat me to a response.

"What should I call you?" He looked up at my mother.

She wrinkled her brow. "Eleanor will do. And now, I'm going to take the girls out. And Allison?"

"Yes, Mother?"

"Get some sleep. You look like crap."

"Thank you Mother."

"Thanks for the house, Eleanor." Langly yawned.
 

"She mustn't have hated me. She let me call her Eleanor."

"Langly, her close friends call her Ellie. She's not totally ready to accept you yet. Trust me on this one. And the deal with the house? That's because she finds our situation...appalling. And not up to standards for her granddaughter."

"Yeah, but she didn't make me call her Mrs. Rausch."

"Well, that much I'll give you."

"And she did offer to pay for a house."

"Yes, she did. But my mother doesn't do anything without an ulterior motive."

"God, Ally, and you say I'm paranoid! Yeah, she's a bitch, and she's got a mean mouth, and everything you say is true. But at least she still loves you."

"Sometimes she has a mighty weird way of showing it."

"Hey, Ally? Don't look the gift horse in the mouth."

"I just don't want her thinking this gives her a license to play with my head."

"Don't worry, she'll play nice. Or she won't talk to you. I'll see to that."

"Good luck. Eleanor is not easily deterred."

"Yeah, but at least I made her laugh."

Maybe that's why she and Eric never got on. He never made her laugh.

"Langly, it was extremely generous of my mother to offer to put money down on a house, I agree with that. But let's get a few things straight here.

"Number one, my mother never does anything without an ulterior motive. In this case, she wants to slap my brother in the face, and the easiest way for her to do it is to give money to me.   Number two, she feels like I've been slumming all my adult life."

"You mean you haven't?" He was teasing. I was not in the mood.

"Look, I'm serious. She's a terror. You may be able to humor her here and there, but a lot of people are afraid of her, and with good reason. First off, do you think she amassed her fortune just from my dad's company? Get real. When he died, the value of the company was only a small part of her net worth. She and my dad made a lot of their loot in the real estate market, mostly through her efforts. She was only worth about 7 million when my dad died, and she's more than quadrupled that. Second, she's a professional card player. Do you think all the people she knows are people you want for your neighbors? I don't think so. What she didn't make in real estate, she makes off Elmer."

"Who the hell is Elmer?"

"Her bookie."

"So? She's got a bookie. Big fucking deal."

"And she's very, very good, and she's never lost money for him. But from what my brother Rob tells me-Rob's her accountant, by the way-Elmer is not somebody to fuck with. And neither is she. One time, a client stiffed my dad for $112,000. Not a monstrous sum of money in corporate America, but enough to piss my dad off. My mother hired a friend of a friend and had the guy's kneecaps broken. Suddenly, my dad was able to collect on his $112,000. Amazing how that works.

"So I'm just warning you: nobody gets anything from Eleanor for free."

"God, Ally, you are scared to death of the woman, and you're 44 years old? Besides, maybe she feels guilty for all the times she treats you like shit. Which, from what I can tell, is quite a lot."

"Maybe. But I've had money, babe, and I know exactly what it can buy and what it can't. And lots of it can buy you a whole lot of trouble."

"Okay, Ally, now let me tell you something. I've never had money. I have no idea what it feels like to have any. And if somebody's going to offer me some, I'm not going to turn it down. I'm sick of living from hand to mouth."

"We don't live hand to mouth."

"Yeah, but we sure as hell live paycheck to paycheck. If it wasn't for what Eric left you, and what you made from the house, and what you have left after you gave a bunch of it to your in-laws, you'd be one car repair away from disaster. Admit it."

"Okay, that might be true."

"It is true. I'm not going to give up doing what I do. No way. But I need...more."

"Like what?"

"Like what? Ally, I have no health insurance! My little overnight stay from being burned to a crisp cost $1,300. I'll be paying on that for ages!"

"You could have said something."

"What? And take it from you? Jesus, Ally, get real! You're getting by, but not in style. Don't you ever worry about that?"

"Not particularly."

"No, because you know it's coming someday, and you'll be okay."

"That's not fair. My mother could write me off anytime, and she might yet."

"She won't. I guarantee she won't. And believe me, Ally, I'd marry you if you weren't getting any of it, and if your mother was as poor as a churchmouse! But if somebody wants to give me some, I'm taking it. Ally, I need a car, for Christ's sake! I haven't had one since I totalled the 'Stang. And I also need to get new glasses, which is an expense I didn't need right now."

"We just went to Vegas for four days."

"Yeah, and what did we spend? Byers got the room for practically zip, we fly supersavers, and we got treated to most of our meals!"

"Okay, so we know how to vacation on the cheap."

"Look, I know that taking stuff from people makes you real uncomfortable, and that's okay. But don't get weird on me about it. Jesus, Ally, I wanted to buy you a ring, for Christ's sake, and I don't have the money right now! You have any idea how that makes me feel?"

"Look, engagement rings are when you're 24, not 44, and you want to show off to your girlfriends. I definitely don't need one."

"Not the point, Ally, not the point."

"Then what is?"

"That I don't have the option of not getting you one! I have to not get you one, at least until I get a paycheck from the Feds."

"I hope that's not your sole motivation for working with them."

"Believe me, no way. But the cash is not unattractive."

"Cash is always attractive. It fits everyone."

"Yeah, it does. And I'd like to have some, just for something different."

"Never thought of you as a capitalist, Langly."

"This has nothing to do with political beliefs, Ally. I'm just sick of being poor, that's all."

"Feds do give decent health insurance," I conceded. "What do Frohike and Byers do?"

"Frohike's a vet, it's not the best in the world, but he can go to a veterans' hospital if he needs to. And Byers has plenty of cash, and probably decent insurance of his own."

"That's true. He's Scarsdale Boy."

"And I'm not. So let me enjoy someone's generosity for once, regardless of their motives."

"I guess nobody's really ever given you anything," I said quietly.

"Damn straight. Well, not until you, anyway. Don't you get it? I have no connections. And while from what I've seen I'm very happy your mom lives on the opposite side of the continent, I'm pretty happy she offered us something."

"It's a pretty peril-fraught connection."

"I think you make more out of it than you need to, Ally. She is a bitch. But when she tries to do something decent, cut her some slack, okay? She's not gonna live forever, and you're her only daughter. Maybe she wants to make peace with you."

"We don't really fight."

"Yeah, and you don't really like her, and she knows it."

"I guess I don't like her very much. I...I don't want to go into it. Maybe she does want to have more connection to me. I don't know. Okay, here's how I can live with things."

"I'm listening."

"If she offers, we can take. But we don't ask. Unless we are dying and destitute, we DO NOT ask her for money."

"I can live with that."

"I suspect if she offers and we turn her down, she'll take it as a slap in the face, anyway, so if she's feeling generous, we'd better accept. She just makes me...nervous, that's all."

"Get over it, Ally. Get over it already. If she bugs you, tell her to fuck off. She can obviously dish it out, so play it her way. Stop acting like a little kid with her and start acting your age. And she'll probably bug you a lot less."

I was silent for a while. We were finally interrupted by Frohike.

"I'm sorry, but there are some agents downstairs that you need to talk with."

"Okay, we're coming down. I turned to Langly. "C'mon, dude, we've got more important things to sweat about right now."

"Yeah, we do."

"Just explain this to me: My sister-in-law is missing. I'm worried sick about her. I'm worried about Miranda and Shelby. We have jobs we need to deal with very shortly. We've got all this shit going on in our lives. So why the hell are we fighting about my mother's money?"

Langly pondered that for a moment. "Because it's the only money we have to fight over?"

"Touche."
 

Walter Skinner had sent over two ASACs to talk with us. Apparently Skinner had talked to Frohike at some via the phone the night before, but nothing in great detail, although Frohike was satisfied-for now-that the phones were not bugged.

There were two men seated on my sofa-one was very blonde and fairly young, the other definitely a brunette and probably several years older than the other. They seemed calm and businesslike, which right now I could probably deal with better than heaps of compassion.

The taller, younger, blonder one introduced himself. "I'm Agent Chris Lowry, and this is Agent Roberto Carnesale." They shook hands with us.

Agent Carnesale spoke first. He had a very soft, soothing voice, heavily laden with an accent that might have been the Bronx or Brooklyn. "I'm sorry for your situation."

"Thank you."

"We do need to get some information from you in order to best resolve this."

"We'll tell you everything we know."

"You are Mrs. Gerstein?"

I was tempted to say that my mother-in-law was dead, but that wasn't going to work right now. "Yes."

"And you would be Mr. Langly."

"Uh-huh."

"Okay. Agent Carnesale is going to talk with you, Mrs. Gerstein, and I'll talk to Mr. Langly here."

"You can call me Allison."

"Langly'll do."

"That's fine," said Agent Carnesale. "Mrs.-Allison, we'd like to speak first to each of you separately, then together. Is there a place we can talk?"

"Let's go out on the porch."
 

We grabbed some coffee from the pot-Frohike had put on a fresh pot just before he and Byers took off. Thank God Frohike could make coffee, although right now, I might have drunk Langly's out of desperation.

"Ms. Gerstein was your sister?"

"Sister-in-law. I was married to her brother. He...passed on last year."

"I'm very sorry."

"Thank you."

"When did you last see her?"

"Thursday morning, August the fifth. We were getting ready to go to Vegas for a...convention."

"What kind of convention?"

"A computer convention. I was a guest of Langly."

"Can your stay be verified?"

"We've got room charges on Visa, and phone charges and all that kind of stuff."

"Where did you stay in Vegas?"

"Caesar's Palace."

"Lucky. I haven't been to Vegas in ages. Used to go when I was in the Flagstaff field office."

"You're from Arizona?"

"Actually from Tucson, but moved up north in college."

"I'm a native Californian, so I'm from the same general area in the country."

"Which part?"

"Originally San Francisco area, but lived in LA for eighteen years before I moved here."

"I see. Now it says in what I've been given that Ms. Gerstein was living in North Jersey. Bergen County."

"Upper Saddle River. She lived with her significant other, Seth George."

"Mr. George is being interviewed by the Newark field office personnel."

"What was her purpose in coming here?"

"Well, she said she could use a break, and she volunteered to look after Miranda-that's my daughter-while I went to Vegas."

"When did she arrive?"

"Tuesday, the third."

"So you had the opportunity to spend time with her before you left."

"Yes, I did."

"How did she seem?"

"She was in pretty poor shape. Complaining about work problems big time. She was really worried about things."

"Would you characterize her behavior as unusual?"

"Yeah, I would. Lydia wasn't normally inclined to worry."

"Did she specify exactly what she was worried about?"

"Changes in management at work. Changes in the direction her research was headed. And she was demoted-it wasn't labeled that, but it was a demotion. She was supposed to start heading up her own research project, but it was cancelled, and she was put on a project where she had no particular expertise, and she was basically working as a bench chemist, which is a long
way from being a principal investigator."

"Well, those sorts of things can be very difficult emotionally."

"No, she was scared of something."

"Did she say what?"

"She was...she thinks her boss was murdered."

"Her boss was murdered, she thinks. What was her basis for that?"

"Well, I don't think she was working directly for her anymore-"

"What was her boss's name?"

"Barbara Silverman."

"And she worked directly for this person?"

"She used to. Dr. Silverman had moved up in the company before she was demoted, too. I think she was more like Lydia's mentor. Dr. Silverman was killed in a diving accident not all that long ago. She said she...knew things."

"What kinds of things?"

"She really didn't say, but apparently Dr. Silverman planned to make public some things she found out. Things that wouldn't benefit the company."

"What was the name of the company?"

"Meerschaum-Beckerling. Pharmaceuticals. Lydia was a pharmaceutical chemist. She was just about finished with her dissertation. Then she was going to head up this project in treating superinfections, some kind of new antibiotic research."

"Did Lydia confide in you frequently?"

"Yeah, I'd say so. We talked."

"Even after your husband's death?"

"Yes. We sent e-mails."

"Do you have copies of those e-mails?"

"Maybe. I might be able to retrieve some of them. I don't print out my e-mail unless it's like directions or something."

"What do you know of her relationship with Seth George?"

"They seemed happy with the way things were. She really never complained about him."

"Do you personally know him?"

"Seth? I've met him a few times. Seems like a nice guy."

"Any other family?"

"Her sister-oh, shit. I've gotta tell Emma."

"Emma is her sister?"

"Yeah. Her older sister. Lydia's the youngest. My husband was in the middle."

"Where is Emma?"

"Emma's in Sacramento. California. She's an education lobbyist."

"So you haven't been in contact with Emma?"

"No-I've been home maybe twelve hours, and to tell the truth, it's felt like 12 years."

"What's Emma's full name?"

"Emma Chava Gerstein."

"Address?"

"It's on my computer. I'll get it for you before you go."

"Telephone number?"

"Area code 916-737-9824."

"Home or work?"

"Home. I don't have her work number, but her e-mail is emm-@education.california.gov."

"When did you first become aware that Ms. Gerstein was missing?"

"Yesterday at around 3:30 in the afternoon, Vegas time. I got a call from my daughter."

"What did your daughter tell you?"

"She said that her aunt had left to pick up movies and dinner around 7:30 local time here."

"Did she say where?"

"She went to the Blockbuster and Ming Yuan restaurant in the strip mall on Water and 29th Avenue. The police found her car there."

"Just tell me what you know."

"Your daughter waited nearly 24 hours to call you."

"Yes, she did."

"Why was that?"

"She called the police. The police told her that her aunt couldn't be considered missing until she had been gone for 24 hours. This was Saturday night that she called them."

"So she waited here alone until it looked like her aunt was really missing."

"She was with her friend. Shelby Graham."

"They were alone in the house."

"Yes, they were, and if I'd known they were alone, I'd have come home sooner. But they didn't notify me until yesterday."

"How old is your daughter?"

"She's 13." I was starting to feel like a criminal in this line of questioning.

"Would you say she is mature for her age?"

"Yes."

"Does she ordinarily use good judgment?"

"Yes, she does."

"Have you ever left her alone overnight?"

"No, I have not." I was starting to sound defensive, and I knew it, but I couldn't help it.

"Do you ever leave her alone during the day?"

"Yes, I do. I work, you know."

"Mrs. Gerstein, just answer the questions as best you can. I'm not accusing you of anything."

"Sorry, but you make it sound like instead of going away for a long weekend, where I arranged for child care for the duration of the trip, I left my daughter alone to fend for herself. And I wouldn't do that to her. My parents used to leave me for weekends with my brothers, and I'm not going to throw that kind of responsibility on her just yet."

"What is your relationship to Mr. Langly?"

"He's my fiance."

"I see. How long have you been engaged?"

"Since Friday night."

"You were in Vegas and didn't run off to one of the all-night chapels?" He was chuckling softly.

"No. I'm Jewish, and I do insist on a rabbi being there for a wedding. That reminds me. Lydia said something about there being a lot of anti-Jewish sentiment floating around at her workplace."

"Really."

"Yeah. And Dr. Silverman was Jewish, too. Her husband survived the Lodz ghetto."

"Is he still alive?"

"Yes, he is. He lives in North Jersey somewhere. I have no idea where."

"First name?"

"I think it's Sam. He's a professor of Holocaust history. I don't know where he teaches."

"Was Lydia open about practicing her religion?"

"Lydia was strictly a High Holy Days Jew, and that's only if she had no plans." I giggled at that, for some weird reason. "No, Lydia really didn't think much of her birth religion."

"Are you practicing?"

"I'm mildly observant. I respect the traditions."

"Have you ever been the target of anti-Semitism?"

"No. I've always been surrounded by a lot of other Jews, and if I was, I never noticed it."

"But you definitely identify yourself as Jewish. Did Lydia?"

"She'd say she was raised Jewish. She never made much of it."

"Your fiance. Is he Jewish as well?"

"No."

"Where is your daughter right now?"

"She is out shopping with her grandmother and with her friend Shelby."

"Does your mother live around here?"

"No, she's just in DC for a bridge tournament. My mother plays cards at the professional level."

"When will she be back?"

"Probably soon. My mother has a round that starts at 5 at the Watergate Hotel, of all places."

"We'll need to speak with both girls."

"Uh...Shelby's mother doesn't know anything about this."

"I'm just going to ask them some questions, that's all. This is not testimony. It's information gathering."

"Shelby's a minor."

"I gathered that. We plan to direct most of our questioning at your daughter-what did you say her name was, Miranda?"

"Yes."

"I just need some basics here, Mrs. Gerstein. What's your date of birth?"

"August 8, 1955."

He was silent, then slowly shook his head. "Hell of a crummy birthday gift."

"Oh, yeah."
 

Langly and I were then asked a few more questions together. The agents said they would be back in the evening to ask the girls some questions. If Shelby had planned on heading home after the shopping trip, which was doubtful, I was going to have to make up one hell of an excuse to her mother.

We were told that the phone company would be out to install a device to track and tape our calls. And I had bitched about getting caller ID.

The girls and my mother returned, fortunately, after the FBI agents were out of the house.

"I can't stay, I have a game starting, but if I have free time during the week, I'll call you," my mother said to me as she was departing.

"Thanks. I appreciate your taking the girls shopping."

"Oh, I enjoyed it. And I think they did, too."

"Looks like they lightened your bank account."

She laughed. "They both shop pretty well. I gave them each a budget."

"What sort of budget?"

"I gave them $500 each." I must have had a shocked expression on my face, and she waved me off.

"At least they both say thank you."

"Yes, thank you Eleanor." Langly called out from the living room.

"I expect you to find something soon."

"We will."
 

My mother's taking the girls shopping seemed to have relaxed them, and they were carrying on and giggling like they should be. Too bad they were about to have that all go out from under them.

"Langly, my mother's going to be here for at least a few days. I don't know how long I can keep this from her."

"Maybe you can't."

"She'll freak!"

"So? We're all freaked. A natural reaction to an unnatural situation." He was sprawled on the sofa, pale blue eyes blinking. "Ally, I gotta get a nap in sometime. Let's go lie down."

I leaned against the door as my mother departed.

"Langly." I whimpered his name.

"Yeah?" He was blinking at me, and the dark rings beneath his eyes shown prominently against his chalk-white skin.

"How the hell did I get here?"

He came and put a hand on my shoulder, then walked me away from the door, arm around my back. I was dead tired, and I knew I wasn't going to be able to sleep.

"I have some ideas on how you got here."

"No, I mean, how did everything end up so screwed up?"

"I know what you mean, Ally. And yes, we are having the same conversation, believe it or not."

"Is this one of your theories?"

"Not simply a theory. I can't prove all of it now, but I can some of it."

"Then maybe you'd better tell me. Because I'm not feeling real patient right now, and I'm sick of everybody keeping me out of the loop, and I need some information!"

He sat down in the recliner, pulled me into him, and just sat there for several minutes. I just sort of melted into him for a while, and he ran his long fingers through my hair.

"It's a long story."

"We've got time. Right now, it's all we've got!"

"And it's complicated."

"I think I can deal, even in my present state, with something more complex than See Spot Run."

"And it involves people you know."

"How well?"

"Intimately. Or maybe not at all."

I was not in the mood for mind games. "Start talking."

END OF PART 23