Angie stopped within the entrance, staring at the minister as he shut off the player, trying to understand what she had heard, what she was feeling. "You’re crying," she said, seeing the tears that had flowed down his face as he sang.

"The fumes," he said, waving at the items on the floor. "Makes my eyes water." He smiled, a sad smile without joy, as he added, "Well, that’s my excuse, anyway. What’s yours?" as he walked over to her and wiped a tear from her cheek.

"I thought .... but, no, you can’t be, can you? Oh, but I thought ..." the tears started flowing a little faster as she stammered, "The dreams, and then the mugs, and then hearing you sing, and those words, but you just look like him. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, it was the call from Mira, I’m just . .."

He took her hands in his, and said in barely more than a whisper, "What did Palmira Sanchez have to say, Angela?" in the Australian accent she had thought she’d never hear again.

"Rollie? It is you?" she whispered, to which he put a finger across her lips and pointedly stared at the door behind her. She heard it then, the sound of a car driving up the hill. He went to close the doors, and she blocked him.

"No," she said, suddenly frightened. "You’re not. You can’t be. You’re Loubar, and you’re not going to fool me again. Never again. Never!" And then she started sobbing in earnest, as the car parked and the driver walked to the door.

Alex entered the church in a hurry, having heard Angie’s sobs. Wrapping her arms around the distraught woman she steered Angie to a seat, glaring at Daniel who returned the angry look with one of helpless confusion.

"There there," Alex told Angie, taking the duffel bag from her and placing it on the floor next to where they sat, "cry your eyes out, you poor thing. I bet you haven’t cried since it happened, have you?" Angie looked up at her benefactor, still so very confused. "I remember seeing you last year. You’re the one from the assassination attempt on the Trade Minister. The one who shot her business partner by accident trying to stop the assassin."

Angie started getting her composure back, feeling ashamed of her sudden outburst. And Daniel, poor Daniel, to accuse him like that .... but at Alex’ words, she sniffled and hiccuped even as she tried to speak.

"He died, didn’t he," Alex said gently. "You killed your business partner, and it wasn’t your fault honey, it was an accident. Just a dumb stupid accident. You can’t go on blaming yourself."

Daniel wanted very much to say, no, it didn’t happen that way, but realized he didn’t dare say a word. His expression must have said something to Alex, because even as she continued to fuss over Angie she said to him, "You recognized her from that newscast, too, didn’t you? And told something about it to Dylan. Well, you and I are going to have a long talk about that, because you left too much to his imagination, Daniel Cooper, and my son has quite the imagination. He’s been having nightmares all night."

"He didn’t die," Angie was able to gasp out. "At least, not from that. I didn’t hit him anywhere serious ..." and she hiccuped again.

"Make yourself useful, Daniel," Alex told him with an edge to her voice, "and get Angie some water, will you?"

He took the advice and went off to the back room.

Alex reached into her purse and pulled out a batch of tissues, which she handed to Angie, then pulled out a jar of cold cream. Opening the jar one handed, never removing her arm from Angie’s shoulders, she began to rub some of the cream over Angie’s cheeks, saying, "You’ve got mascara all over your face. Oh, I remember mascara; I used to wear it, too, before my son started outgrowing his clothes every two weeks. Come on, let’s get you calmed down here." Then Alex took a tissue and began to wipe off the cold cream, removing much of the smeared makeup as well.

Daniel returned with a coffee mug filled with water, that he offered to Angie. She reached for it, but he let go before she had a good grip on it, and it crashed to the floor and shattered.

"You really are coordination challenged, aren’t you?" Alex said to Daniel. "Maybe we should forget about you bussing tables next Friday, hmmm?"

"Alex, I ..." but Daniel was at a loss for words, and as he hesitated, Alex got a good look at his own tear streaked face. Her expression softened as she reached her own conclusions as to the cause of his tears.

"Come on, Angie," Alex told her charge in a comforting tone, "let’s get your face washed up, shall we?" Together, at Alex’ urgings, they stood up and Alex led Angie to the ladies room.

Daniel went off for a broom and dustpan. He was sweeping up the broken coffee mug when Alex returned alone.

"I’m sorry, Daniel, that was uncalled for on my part. You are such a compassionate man, crying for her pain. Forgive me?"

Daniel looked up from his sweeping; tears were still traveling down his cheeks, though not from the causes Alex believed. He was still trying to come to terms with Angie accusing him of being Loubar, and wondering if he would ever convince her of the truth. Of course, he couldn’t tell Alex that. So he nodded wordlessly to the apology Alex offered, and then went to empty the dustpan into a trash can and put the cleanup items away.

When he returned, he began cleaning up the small group of items from his now abandoned stripping project, silently bringing them to his back room carefully, so as not to spill or drop anything. Once he was finished, he then turned to the music player, and ejected the cd to put it back into its case. Alex walked over, and seeing the album, said, "Rolling Stones? In church?"

"I work better to music," he explained, and pointed to the other cds next to the player. They were all Elvis Costello albums. "It was mixed in with this batch, I think Stella may have liked them." Alex turned the cd over for the song listings, and said, "Hmmm. Were you maybe trying to make a point with your choice of tunes?"

"Um, yeh," he said, grabbing at the offered explanation. "I saw Angie coming up the hill when I opened the doors to get some fresh air, and I thought maybe the song would have an effect on her, get her saying something."

Angie had left the washroom to rejoin them; hearing Daniel give the explanation she recognized the slight hesitations that Rollie would use if he wasn’t telling quite the truth to someone. She saw Daniel’s eyes dart briefly away from contact with the person he was speaking to, and again she wondered.

"You should have opened the windows before you started stripping off the old varnish," Alex told him, "those fumes could be toxic. You’d better rinse your eyes out." Then she turned and saw Angie. "Feeling better?" Alex asked her. Daniel used the opportunity to go into the men’s room to wash off his face.

"Yes, thank you. I feel so ashamed," she said, "breaking down like that."

"Nonsense. You were way overdue, anyone could see that."

Daniel rejoined the group during an awkward silence. Alex stared at him, noticing that his eyes were still bloodshot, though he had washed off his face, and asked, "Did you get any sleep last night?"

"Not really," he admitted truthfully. "I thought if I put in some hard work maybe I could get in some sleep before the Coast Guard ...." and then he realized that Alex wouldn’t have had any other reason to come up to the church, unless she was looking for him.

"Alex, is there news, did they find him?"

"They found his boat, but not him. But that’s not important right now .... and where are you going?" Daniel had headed for the door the moment he heard her say they found the boat.

"I should be there," he said.

"And do what? Scuba dive in your sleep? What could you hope to accomplish? The neighbors are with the man’s wife, as are other widows who lost their husbands at sea. Dylan joined a bunch of other children to amuse their two, and Kevin, Brian, and Nub are playing poker on Nub’s houseboat. Even Callie went back to sleep after I told her the news. No, you need to counsel Angie. Or get some sleep yourself. You’ve done all you can to help."

"I could pray. I could lead a group prayer." He still stood at the door, still determined to do something, anything, while the search continued.

"In Hebrew? They’re Jewish, Daniel. Father Mac went to get a rabbi from the mainland. So really, sit down, talk with Angie, or go home and get some sleep. And let’s get these windows open to air out this place or you’ll be having your service outdoors tomorrow!"

With that, Alex stood, and her purse slid from her lap. She caught it, and then remembered something, so she sat back down and opened it. Daniel, meanwhile, deciding that Alex was right, walked away from the door and began to open windows.

"Here’s your cell phone back, Angie," she said, after digging to the bottom of it. "Now you be sure to send a copy of the bill to Brian and he’ll pay for it from municipal funds. I’ll just leave the two of you alone, now. Talk to Daniel, Angie. You need to tell someone everything; what happened, how you feel about it." She then rose again to leave.

"No, please, don’t go," Angie asked, suddenly afraid again to be alone with Daniel. Not wanting to admit that, she said, "You’re right. I need to tell what happened. All of it. But I think it would be easier for me to tell you. Daniel, too," she added, looking over to him. Especially if you are Rollie, she thought, it’s about time you heard the whole story. To Alex she added, "I suppose everyone knows by now some of what happened last year, so if I tell you the whole story, you’ll know what to tell them about it. And what to say to Dylan to make his nightmares go away."

Daniel came over and sat to Angie’s right, angled so he could see her easier. Alex shifted slightly at Angie’s left, angled for the same reason. Angie looked to both of them, took a deep breath, and began her story.