All Of Hallow's Eve

Angie glanced out at the driver's side view mirror, checking the status of the rest of the movie convoy following them. They were making good time. Maybe if we push it, we can be home tonight instead of tomorrow. The thought pleased the blonde special effects expert. She started to say as much to Rollie who was riding shotgun when the camera truck in the lead abruptly stopped. She clamped her mouth shut, her lips thinning slightly. Great! Now what?

"Now what?" Rollie unconsciously echoed Angie's thoughts. He unfastened his seat belt and reached for the door. "Hang on, luv. I'll find out what's going on." He climbed out stiffly and moved slowly up to the lead vehicle.

A frown marred Angie's beautiful face as she watched her husband. Rollie was moving like an old man. Of course, his bruised hip had more to do with it than age. Damn you, Jeb Valleroy! Why couldn't you listen, instead of insisting on doing all of your own stunts?!? You're no Jackie Chan! She thought about hopping out and sending Rollie back to the FX van, but realized that the Aussie was probably glad of this opportunity to stretch his stiffening muscles. Her eyes closed and the events of this morning flashed through her mind.

The star of their latest movie, Jeb Valleroy, stood beside the stunt car, listening intently to the director, Greg Hartweck. He nodded and swaggered over to stand casually with a crowd of local extras. Hartweck moved to his spot beside the primary camera and checked with the auxiliary crews. Rollie watched from a spot several yards to the right, out of the camera shots, thoroughly unhappy with the whole situation. The director had called action. The star and extras pretended to react in horror to something off screen. Valleroy ran to the stunt car and leapt behind the wheel. He gunned the car. The wheels spun then caught on the gravel and the car surged forward. Suddenly smoke poured from the engine well and exhaust. Valleroy pushed the driver's door open and jumped from the moving vehicle. He hit the airbag and rose to his feet, staring after his runaway car, all according to script.

"The radiator's sprung a leak. According to the maps, there's a town a little over two miles away. Carol's going to nurse it down to there."

"You and Rollie go ahead, Angie. Try to find a place for all of us tonight." Roger shrugged and gave a wry grin. He knew that would be easier said than done. "We'll head out in the morning," the assistant director added. As the highest ranked employee there, he got to make the decisions, report and explain them to Hartweck.

"If we get that radiator fixed," Rollie pointed out.

"We will, Rollie. Carol's sharp. You said yourself that she caught it early."

Rollie nodded and climbed aboard the van. "You heard the man, Ange. Let's go." Everyone else would follow the slower moving truck. After all, we don't want to terrify any potential hosts.

Angie checked and when Carol waved her forward, carefully pulled out of line and passed the vehicles in front. "And how did we get this lovely chore?"

"Roger thought that between us we could sweet talk anybody into letting our lot stay unexpectedly for one night." Rollie answered a bit sheepishly.

The blonde eyed her lanky partner. "Does he know about your dad?"

The Aussie looked startled then laughed heartily. "No! And you better not tell him either. Dingo causes enough trouble without any help from you." He shook his head. "No, he thought they might like the accent."

"Smart man," Angie murmured as they entered the outskirts of a tiny hamlet. She pulled into the center of town and they stared in amazement at the breathtaking cliff top view of the Atlantic. "Wow."

"Yeah," Rollie responded, "double wow. I wonder why this place isn't part of the tourist track."

"Luck maybe," Angie shot back and looked around. "Do you see a hotel or a motel?"

Rollie started to shake his head, then smiled. "There." He pointed at a sign almost hidden by ivy - Oceanview Inn. The couple looked past it for the inn. The building was an extremely large Victorian style house. Rollie thought he saw a widow's walk on top. Maybe it had belonged to a sea captain once and his wife had walked up there, waiting and watching for her husband's ship to come in. Whoever had owned it, it was one of the biggest houses the Australian had seen outside of rich mansions.

"Well," Angie said as she turned the FX van up the curving driveway, "I hope they have enough rooms for twenty three movie people."

"And food!" Rollie added cheerfully. "I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry," Angie shot back, teasing. Actually, he wasn't, but considering he still possessed almost the exact same slender frame as when they first met, it was a wonder he wasn't. Examining her husband with a connoisseur's eye, she knew that he had put on some more muscle, but not fat. Shortly after they had gotten married, Rollie had started to join his wife as she went roller blading, biking or running. He even lifted an occasional free weight. The results were quite pleasing to the eye. As if he needed any help there, Angie thought to herself. Still, Rollie was sometimes too conscious of their age differences and had made comments on more than one occasion about needing the exercise to keep up with his young and beautiful wife. He also seemed to think he wasn't handsome enough. Silly man! Of course, I used to believe the same thing about myself. Amazing how having the man you love telling you that you're beautiful several times a day can improve your self image. I'll have to try it on Rollie.

Angie parked the large black van in an open, paved area and they got out, walking to the front door. The autumn color was now past its peak, but it was still beautiful. I'll have to remember this place for when we want to get away together, Angie thought to herself. It was wonderful and would be very romantic with the flowering shrubs bursting in blooms.

Going inside, Rollie tapped lightly on the bell at the counter. An older woman appeared a few moments later.

Pushing a stray strand of red hair behind her ear, she looked up at the taller man. "May I help you?"

"I hope so," Rollie smiled engagingly. "Do you have enough rooms for twenty three people for one night?" I hope.

The woman's mouth dropped open in surprise. "Twenty three?!" She blinked. "Um, well, we have eleven rooms," she responded in a daze, "with double beds. That's enough for twenty two..." One more! We need one more bed. She wondered frantically if she and her partner, Patricia, could impose on one of the neighbors. Twenty three guests! Positively heaven sent! But no, what if someone needs something in the middle of the night? We can't leave them on their own.

Rollie and Angie could see her wondering where she could put one more person. They exchanged looks. So much for getting my boo-boo kissed better, Rollie thought sadly. "That should do. We'll take them."

The woman beamed at the couple. "Certainly, sir." She reached under the counter and pulled out a register for them to sign. "How will you be paying?"

"Roger Keller will give you a credit card when he gets here," Rollie explained. He winked at Angie. The movie company was going to have to cover the unexpected expense of the inn. It looked to be a lot better than the rat hole they were originally suppose to spend the night in. "He should be here shortly. One of the trucks has a leaking radiator. Will that be all right with you?"

Another woman peeked around a corner and looked at the handsome couple at the front desk. She smiled happily at seeing actual customers. Please let them be customers. We need the money. "Louisa?"

"We have guests, Patricia. Twenty one more are coming soon."

Rollie signed the register in relief at her words. Well that was easy, he thought, then shivered as an uneasy feeling swept through him.

Their hostess removed a key attached to a plastic card with a number imprinted on it and handed it to Rollie. "This is for room seven. It has a fabulous view of the ocean. Oh! Where are my manners? I'm Mrs. Louisa Caldwell. This is Mrs. Patricia Emerson. We run the Oceanview Inn. Welcome!" She stepped out, ready to lead their new guests to their room.

"Rollie Tyler and this is my wife, Angie. I'll get our bags from the truck, Ange." He passed the key to her.

"Okay, Rol." Angie watched the tall, lanky man leave, then turned back to Mrs. Caldwell. "Thank you for accepting us on such short notice."

"Nonsense my dear! No need for the rooms to go empty. Should we wait for your husband?"

Angie shook her head. "He'll find us."

"Mister Tyler has a lovely accent." The woman commented approvingly as she led the way upstairs. She was a short woman with too large of a build for her height. Still, she exuded a feeling of cheer and friendliness. Her hair was done up in a bun, a lovely red just laced with a few strands of grey which proved it was her natural hair color.

"Rollie's from Australia," Angie said as Mrs. Caldwell opened the door to their room and stepped back to allow her guest to enter first. The first thing Angie saw was the view through the open curtains. "Beautiful." She moved to the bay window and looked out at the Atlantic. It was easy to see how the inn had gotten its name. Every room toward the front would have a breathtaking and unobstructed view of the ocean.

"Really? I thought I recognized that accent. It's been such a long time. My husband took me to Australia, oh, it must have been twenty years ago now. We enjoyed ourselves so much that we were going to go back, but..." She trailed off as she remembered her husband's untimely death fifteen years ago. That was one date she would never forget. The boating accident had left both her and Patricia widows. Her brother, Henry, had thought they were crazy when they decided to turn the Victorian folly into an inn. Five years of hard work had gotten them this far. Still, if it was going to be a thriving concern, they needed more guests. Twenty three guests was the most they had ever had even it was only for one night.

Rollie entered the room and dropped the two bags he was carrying at the foot of the double bed nearest the window. Good thing we like cuddling, otherwise this bed would be too small. As it was, he'd be lucky if his feet didn't stick off the end. Oh well, wouldn't be the first time. "We better make sure Roger knows where we're staying. I'll head down for the street."

"I'll come with you."

Rollie waited while Angie locked their room, then the couple walked out of the inn hand in hand.

Louisa watched them leave with an indulgent smile on her face.

"Are they nice?" Patricia asked her partner.

"Very nice," Louisa answered dreamily, then shook herself. "It's always nice to see a young couple so much in love these days. People are in too big of a hurry and too wrapped in themselves to see each other." She tilted her head toward the closed door their latest guests had just left through. "They don't have that problem at least!"

"They--They're not newlywed... Are they?" Patricia played nervously with the dust cloth she held.

Louisa gasped slightly. "I--I don't know." She sighed deeply and whispered, "I hope not." Not meeting each other eyes, the two women turned to separate tasks, their nerves now strung tight, jumpy and unsure.

Rollie and Angie walked easily down the sweeping drive to the street below. There, the tall Australian leaned against the short cement retaining wall that marked the inn's property line. Angie leaned comfortably against him. He wrapped his arms around her, his hands resting on her stomach, her smaller hands resting on his large ones. Rollie looked at their hands in amusement, noting the differences in size. He nuzzled her blonde hair happily, inhaling her fragrance, his eyes slitting with pleasure.

"So," Angie said as she played with Rollie's long fingers, "my handsome angel, who do you think we'll end up sharing a room with?"

One brow arched at the 'handsome angel'. Now what is going on in that beautiful head? "I don't know. It probably won't be Carol though..."

No, even though Angie would be there, their oh-so-proper assistant director wouldn't make a single woman share rooms with a man. Uh oh! She hoped that he wouldn't try to separate her from Rollie because of that! If he did, he was in for a fight. No way was she going to be separated from her husband.

"Eldon maybe? He knows we're old friends."

Angie pulled a face at the thought of sharing a room with Eldon. He was a nice enough guy, but... She giggled as she remembered the last time Rollie had shared a room with the heavier crew man. There had been only one bed that time and after being pushed out of the bed twice, Rollie finished up the night sleeping on the floor. Eldon hadn't understood it at all when he finally woke up and Rollie hadn't deigned to clear things up for the confused man. "Maybe, but I hope not." She turned around and pulled Rollie's head down for a kiss.

Too soon, Angie and Rollie separated from the kisses they were sharing. They watched the first of the convoy pull into town. Carol waved at the couple as she went by, having already spotted the local garage. The other vehicles turned into the drive that Rollie waved them toward. Watching the trucks, vans and one mini-bus pull in, the Aussie hoped there would be enough parking for all of them. Roger hopped out of the mini-bus before it continued on its way up the driveway. "Hey Rollie! Angie!" He looked up at the inn and out at the ocean, then whistled in appreciation. "Nice! I hope it's not going to cost me an arm and a leg though." Hartweck would take it out of his hide, he was sure, if it did.

Rollie shook his head. "The prices were quite reasonable and I think they gave us a group discount. I'm not complaining. We will have to double up though. There are only eleven rooms."

"Ouch! I better get up there and get them assigned then. I swear I think they're worse than grade schoolers at camp sometimes. What about the odd man out?"

Rollie hugged Angie to him. "We figured we could take one bed and someone else could have the other one in our room."

Roger nodded in appreciation of the sacrifice. "Sounds good to me. What's your room number?"

"Seven," Angie answered.

"Got it! Well, time to earn my pay." Roger hurried up the driveway to the inn, hoping to get there before any arguing could break out.

"Want to go for a walk, while Roger sorts things out?" Rollie had no desire to hear any of the fussing that was about to take place.

"I thought you were hungry," Angie teased.

"I am," Rollie answered, "and I want to keep my appetite. It's not dinner time yet."

"Well, how about checking the grounds while we still have some light?"

"Great idea, Ange."

Hand in hand, the couple angled across the lawn, studiously avoiding the front entrance for the inn. The front lawn was wide open, with some flower beds delineated by curving lines of rocks. They were filled with pansies and mums. Nothing on the lawn would obstruct the magnificent view from the house. They headed for the back, hoping to find some solitude.

The backyard was very different from the open front. There was a small wild wood. Following one of the paths, they found a small house. Rollie shivered uneasily as they moved past the blank, staring windows. Soon, they came upon a gazebo with a swing. Smiling, they sat down and started to swing easily back and forth. Angie snuggled up beside Rollie who wrapped his arm around her, holding her close. She drew her legs up on to the swing.

"This is nice," Angie commented.

"Uh huh," Rollie answered absently, enjoying the feel of Angie's smaller body pressing against his long one. He idly continued to rock the swing back and forth using the toe of one boot.

"We should get their phone number from Mrs. Caldwell or Mrs. Emerson so we can come back for a romantic weekend sometime."

"That would be nice, luv." Rollie kissed her forehead. She shifted and their lips met. They needed to get in all the loving time they could now. It wasn't like they were going to get anything excepts a few cuddles tonight. Their kiss deepened and one of Rollie's hands cupped one of Angie's breasts, stroking it gently through the fabric. Angie pulled Rollie's shirt from his pants and ran her hands up his back. The Aussie practically hummed with pleasure, almost purring. Their lips parted and they exchanged kisses and nuzzled each others hair and necks.

Rollie froze as a feeling they were being watched filled him. He sat up and looked around, but didn't seen any signs of anyone else being out there. Goose bumps raised on his flesh as he shivered.

"Getting cold, Rollie?" Angie asked. She knew Rollie felt the cold more than she did. While she felt cozy and warm with a lovely curl of feeling in the pit of her stomach from their heavy petting, the chill autumn air must be having its way with her partner.

"No", Rollie answered uncertainly, "I just... Never mind, it's nothing."

Angie glanced at her watch and looked around. The sun was starting to set and it was beginning to get dark in the woods. "Roger should have everybody sorted out by now. Do you want to head back?"

"I want to make love to my beautiful wife," Rollie declared, before finishing sadly, "but I guess we better."

"Yeah, I guess." Angie stood up and pulled Rollie to his feet, tugging him down the path. He laughed as he let her lead the way. "Come on, handsome. Let's see if we can't find some supper."

"What's with this handsome stuff?" Rollie asked in bewilderment, just as they reached the small house. He glanced at it again, then looked quickly away, new shivers running through his tall, slender frame.

"Rollie? What's wrong?" She could feel his shaking. She stepped toward him, wrapping her arms around his waist, thinking he must really be cold.

"I--I don't know." He shook his head, his soft, brown hair brushing the collar of his jacket. "It's just... Weird. Come on, let's get out of here."

"Rollie?" Angie's voice held a note of question as they hurried down the path, then slowed as the inn came in view. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know", Rollie answered honestly. "I just... I was getting the weirdest feelings like we were being watched."

"Maybe someone else was out for a walk."

"I..." Rollie shivered again and paused. "It didn't feel friendly, Angie," he finished reluctantly, expecting Angie to laugh at him.

Angie blinked not certain what to say. Rollie was clearly disturbed by what he was feeling, but it was all so... odd. There probably hadn't been anybody out there with them. Maybe it was just the events of the day catching up with her husband. ... Then why did she suddenly feel so cold? She tugged his hand and they went around to the front, going inside. Everyone else seemed to be settled into place, Carol just disappearing up the stairs in front of them. They nodded politely to Patricia Emerson, then went to their room to find out who they were sharing it with.

The couple were startled to find Roger Keller there, going through his bag.

"There you are. I hope you don't mind me assigning myself to your room." He grinned. "I figure I can disappear discretely for a couple of hours later tonight." He wriggled his eyebrows.

Rollie and Angie blushed at the implication of how they would use that time alone. "Thanks, Roger. It's appreciated," Angie said.

"Hey! I remember when I was as young as you two and in love. I can sympathize." He picked up his key from the bed. "Though somehow, I don't think your love will ever change." He smiled indulgently as the couple blushed again. "Come on. Let's see if we can find some food. I'm starved!"

Rollie nuzzled his wife's beautiful neck. He felt warm and satiated with pleasure. Angie dozed peacefully in his arms. The unease he'd felt during their walk had vanished in the heat of their love making. Now, a fission of the sensation crawled up his back. He pointedly ignored it, concentrating on Angie, the grace of her form, the way she fit so perfectly in the curve of his body as if they had been made to fit just so and with no one else--Made just for each other.

Angie stirred and her beautiful eyes opened. They immediately sought Rollie's. A smile curved on her lips and Rollie, drawn as if by a magnet, kissed them tenderly. The blonde sighed, happily returning the kiss, then pulled back. "I guess we better get dressed and let Roger know he can join us again."

Rollie sighed, then nodded. "I guess."

The couple shared a quick shower, then dressed in comfortable sweats. Angie sat at the vanity and Rollie brushed her hair with studied care. He loved doing this, the repetitive motion was soothing, Angie's scent filled his nostrils and his fingers enjoyed the feel of the silky softness of the golden strands. Rollie finally returned Angie's brush to her toiletry kit and turned toward the door, only to be pulled back by his wife. Puzzled, he allowed her to guide him to sit at the vanity.

Angie pulled out his brush and grinned. "Now it's my turn," she whispered in his ear. She began to brush her husband's soft brown locks. As she did, Angie came to understand why Rollie loved brushing her hair so much. "I love your hair."

"Uh huh," Rollie responded, skeptical. What is so special about my hair? He looked at himself critically in the mirror and didn't see it.

"You have beautiful hair."

"Oh yeah, Ange, that's just what every guy wants to hear," Rollie grumbled in complaint. A hint of a blush touched his cheeks. He wondered what Angie was up to now, this certainly wasn't the way she usually acted or talked.

Angie whacked his shoulder playfully with the brush. "You know what I mean. There are women who would kill for hair like yours, Rol. It's so thick and soft." She took a deep breath. "And it smells great too. I'm not surprised all those women chased you. I'm just glad I was the lucky one who finally caught you."

Rollie blushed. "Who caught who? And I was the lucky one. I'm surprised you weren't swept away by some really handsome man a long time ago."

"Hey! I was the one who proposed first," Angie declared, sitting in his lap, "and you are all the handsome man I want," she leaned her lips toward his, "or need."

"I was going ..." Rollie mumbled against her soft, pliant lips.

"Hey! What's that noise?" Eldon's voice boomed out in the hallway, his nervousness clear to any who heard him.

The Tylers parted and looked at each other in amused annoyance. Angie stood and walked to the door of their room, Rollie right behind her. The couple peeked out to find the large crew man standing in the middle of the hallway, his temporary roommate right beside him. The two large men were staring inside their room, suspicious and nervous.

Angie frowned as she tried to identify the scrabbling noise coming from the room next to theirs. "I've heard that before..."

"Of course you have, luv," Rollie murmured as he moved toward the door of the neighboring room. "It's a squirrel, Eldon, Don."

"A squirrel?" Don Shelton looked at the SPFX man in surprise. "Are you sure? It's awfully loud! How can a little squirrel make all that racket?" Just then the strange sound got louder, causing both of the crewmen to jump.

"By climbing up the side of the building and over the window screen," Rollie pointed to the long, fluffy gray-brown tail just visible in the light shining from the front porch. A second later, the tail whisked away as the squirrel pushed off, his legs widespread so the webbing could catch an updraft and carry him to a nearby tree. "Oh, Rocky the Flying Squirrel," Rollie nodded sagely as if that explained everything. "Watch out for the Moose, guys." The Aussie flashed a wicked grin and turned toward his wife who was trying to smother her laughter. "Let's see where Roger's gotten off to, Ange."

The couple went downstairs, their laughter bubbling out just as they reached the first floor. "Hello, Mrs. Caldwell. Have you seen Roger?... Uh, Mister Keller?"

"He went up to the widow's walk, Mister Tyler," the woman pointed up and to the left. "Go up to the third floor and turn left. It's the last door at the end of the hall."

"Rollie, please. Thank you." Rollie looked at Angie and grinned mischievously. "Race you!" He darted ahead, running up the stairs. Angie growled softly and started off, rushing to catch up. They raced up to the third floor, laughing and panting. Angie was just ahead, but Rollie stretched one long arm out as they reached the door that lead to the walk on the roof. He grabbed the door knob. "Beat you!"

Angie elbowed the Aussie's ribs and snorted in disdain. "Only because of those long arms, Rol. Otherwise, I'd be the winner and you know it."

"Oh really? And if you were the winner, Mrs. Tyler, what would be your prize?" Rollie teased, his eyes twinkling with love and laughter.

"Hmm..." Angie pretended to think for a moment, one elbow resting on her hand, tapping her chin thoughtfully with one finger of her other hand. "A kiss from the loser, I think."

Rollie's grin widened. "In that case, you win!" He bent over and picked Angie up. Their lips came together and they kissed each other deeply. The sound of a throat being cleared caused the couple to pull apart. Carol stood at the nearest room's door, looking at them in amusement. Rollie smiled sheepishly and lowered his wife to her feet. "Hi Carol. How's the radiator?"

The black woman smiled at the Tylers. "The mechanic said it would be ready in the morning. Get a good night's sleep, Rollie, Angie. We have a long haul still to go. Good night."

"Good night," they echoed as she went into the room. Rollie opened the door and they walked, sedately, up the stairs.

Carol sighed as she leaned back against the closed door. "I wish," she said to her room mate, Yvonne.

"What do you wish?" The ash blonde questioned.

"I wish I had a cute guy who loved me as much as Rollie loves Angie."

"Don't we all, girl friend? Let's face it, all the good ones like Rollie are taken."

"They only just got married this year. Maybe... Maybe there's hope for us yet," Carol responded wistfully. The two women stood quietly for a moment, lost in dreamy thoughts. They exchanged knowing looks and returned to their preparations for bed.

"Roger?" Rollie called softly as they came out into the night air. It was cold up here on the widow's walk. The wind whistled by, blowing inland from the ocean. He shivered and pulled Angie closer, wrapping an arm around her. They weren't dressed for this.

"Hey Rollie, Angie." Roger answered quietly. He pointed toward the sky. "Storm moving in." Clouds could be seen gathering together, starting to block the starlight that shone down on the quiet night.

Rollie looked at them thoughtfully. Their peaceful night wasn't going to be peaceful much longer. "You better come on in, Roge. We don't want an assistant director-cicle."

"Yeah, you're right. It is starting to get cold." The man shivered dramatically.

"Starting?" Rollie mouthed to Angie. Just then a loud crying sound shattered the night. "What in the...? That sounds like a baby crying." Rollie peered out into the dark, bewildered. It sounded like it was coming from the back of the inn. "I wonder where it is, it sounds awful close."

"I don't know." Roger moved to the side of the walk in the direction it seemed to be coming from. "It does sound close."

Angie and Rollie joined the other man, peering down at the woods. "It--It almost sounds like it's outside," Angie offered tentatively. She looked up at her husband, suddenly nervous.

"Whoever is out with that baby needs to get inside quick," Rollie said out loud, "that storm will be here soon." He hugged Angie and looked down at her. "Maybe I better see if I can find them?"

Knowing Rollie wouldn't be happy until he knew whoever was out there was safe, Angie frowned slightly. "We better find them," she said firmly, resigned to her husband yet again involving himself. Hopefully, there was nothing wrong and whoever was out there was already hurrying home. "Let's get our coats and start looking."

Roger shook his head in amazement. I heard about Rollie and his penchant for leaping in where angels fear to tread, but I never thought to see it. He blinked and took that thought back. See it? I was lucky enough to be on the receiving end this morning. "I'll help." He led the way inside. "We'll need flashlights too." He glanced down at the socks that the couple were wearing. "And you need shoes."

"Uh, yeah," Rollie answered absently as he picked up one foot and looked down at the rubber ridges on the sole. While they were comfortable and warm inside, the socks wouldn't do much good outside, especially if it started raining.

Mrs. Caldwell watched the young couple and the director go outside, feelings of anxiety filling her. She had told them that no one in the neighborhood had a baby. Unfortunately, that just seemed to harden Mister Tyler's resolve to check it out.

Rather reluctantly, the trio of searchers separated. Angie watched her husband disappear into the dark night. You better be careful, Rollie Tyler!

Rollie watched his wife and Roger vanish into the night. He turned his attentions to the path in front of him, straining his ears, trying to hear--what? He'd said the sound was like a baby crying, but he knew it wasn't. He didn't know how he knew, he just did. Kind of like knowing the sky is blue in the day. What was blue? He looked up at the sky now and saw blackness and dark gray. The storm was moving in fast. They, no, he needed to hurry. The feeling of being watched was back, stronger than before. Someone, something was watching them and it wasn't nice. The Aussie tried to shake off the feeling that he was vulnerable and easy prey. He'd always told Angie that he didn't believe in the supernatural or UFOs. At the moment, he felt a lot like changing his mind. He pushed the bush out of the way and stared at the small, old house. A cry rattled his nerves. Yep, definitely here.

Rollie's hand shook ever so slightly as he turned the doorknob. He didn't think it was fear, but you never knew. It might not all be the cold chill. He should have brought his gloves with him. He pushed the door open and looked at the dusty, tattered room. Cobwebs seemed to be the primary theme. He used his flashlight to push the worst of them away from the door. He had no desire to be bit by a poisonous spider.

Another cry came. This one softer and appealing. He looked down and smiled crookedly. Okay, I'm not going to live this one down. Brought out into a cold, stormy night by the crying of cat. He squatted on the floor and stretched his hand out for the black feline to sniff. It looked young, just coming out of the kitten stage. It was also very, very--well--black! The Aussie knew quite well that black cats weren't safe this time of year. Idiots liked to hurt and maim and kill the poor things on Halloween. He'd have to take it with him. No way he could leave it outside to be found by some cruel person who would see something of witchcraft and the supernatural, instead of the living, breathing creature it truly was. Cats have feelings too after all! Maybe we can get back to the inn before it starts raining and whatever is making my skin crawl comes out to play. "Come on, lets go while we're still dry. How about it?" He appealed to the little animal.

The cat mewed and sniffed his knuckle. It started purring and rubbed against the large hand. Rollie took that for consent and scooped the cat into his arms, standing up. He froze, his eyes widening as the room shifted.

Rollie stared and tried to move as he watched the tableau in front of him. Two men and a woman. The younger couple were dwarfed by the size of their opponent. The young man stepped back as the big man threatened his wife with the knife. How do I know that?

The man grinned evilly and barked an order for the man to sit in a chair. Rollie remained frozen as the woman was ordered to tie her husband up. She shook like a leaf in a high wind as their captor checked her handiwork.

Outside, the wind picked up, whipping trees against the scudding clouds in the night sky.

Inside, there was no sign of the storm beginning to rage. Rollie stood frozen and helpless as he watched, unmindful of the fat, wet drops that began to fall, finding leaks in the ancient roof. A cold raindrop ran down his face, unseen and unfelt. He gasped inside as the man slashed his knife at the woman, cutting her throat. Blood poured over his hands. He turned toward his captive audience, the man in the chair struggling to escape his bonds, desperate to save his bride. With a cackle, the man slashed out again and the blood of the newlyweds mixed together on his hands. He looked over to the door.

Rollie tried to step back, away, to run or scream, to do something as the man stepped toward him. He stood frozen as the man's hands reached for his throat. Suddenly, there was a pricking sensation on his left hand and he shuddered. The slight movement seemed to break his frozen state. He looked around as the room returned to normal. "Ow!" He muttered as the pricking became stronger. He looked down to find the cat was looking up at him, its fangs stabbing into his thumb. Instinctively, he stepped back. "Stop that!" Rollie ordered, even as the storm outside crashed in full force on the old, dilapidated house.

As the Australian moved back, a dead tree shook outside and tilted. It fell, crashing through the wall, coming to rest where Rollie had been standing a second before. He jumped back further as the rotten limbs brushed against him, breaking away under the impact. Rollie took a deep breath, trying to chase away the images in his mind. He stared outside at the trees and turned his flashlight toward the hole in the wall and another in the flooring. The sights caught his breathe and sent him stumbling outside.

Angie appeared at his side, closely followed by Roger. "Rollie! Are you all right?"

"Yeah," Rollie answered shakily. "You better call the police, Roger."

"The police?" Roger asked numbly, "What?"

"Don't!" Rollie spoke sharply as the man took a step toward the damaged house. "Just call the police."

Roger shrugged and went back toward the inn, not really sure why he was doing it. Something told him to listen when Rollie used that tone of voice.

"Oh, I found our crier, luv," Rollie told his wife with a wry grin. He opened his coat a bit so she could see the little cat cradled in his arms.

"A cat? We came out here for a cat?!"

Rollie pulled his coat closed to protect it from the rain. "Yeah. A cat."

Angie sighed in exasperation. A cat! "So, why do we need the police?"

"Because there are some bodies in there." Rollie pointed toward the house.

Bodies?! Uh oh! Please don't let them think Rollie did it! Angie looked at her husband in shock. Why do these things have to keep happening to you? And why do they always think you did it? She wrapped her arms around the Aussie and hugged him hard. A squeaky protest came from under Rollie's coat, making her laugh, if somewhat shakily.

"Yeah, at least nobody can say I did it this time," Rollie continued absently.

"Why's that?"

Rollie shrugged, still trying to wrap his mind around what had happened. If that cat hadn't... He shivered and wrapped an arm around his wife. That tree would have gotten me if I hadn't moved first. The rain poured down on them, soaking his hair. It was cold and wet, but he made no move to leave. "Maybe you better head back for the inn." He felt a velvety paw patting his hand and smiled.

"Not without you, I don't!"

"Somebody has to wait here for the police, luv. There's no point in both of us getting pneumonia".

Angie shook her head stubbornly and pressed closer to her cold husband. "Nope. I'll go back when you do."

"Angie!" Rollie started to protest, but stopped as he heard a siren. He sighed deeply. He should know better. He, of all people, knew how stubborn Angela Ramirez Tyler could be.

Soon, two policemen were at the couples' side, their powerful maglites cutting through the rain and gloom. "Howdy. Now what's this about?" The older one asked.

"Yeah, why are you out here in this storm?" The younger one echoed suspiciously, trying to sound tough and confident.

Angie rolled her eyes as Rollie shrugged. "I found some," he swallowed hard, "bodies in there." He pointed inside.

The younger cop's eyes narrowed in suspicion, his free hand touching his gun. It was clear what he thought was going on and who was guilty as well.

The older one stuck his head inside the old house and whistled softly. "Call Doctor Baker and Father Paul, Jimmy," he ordered.

"You shouldn't be left alone with these two, Chief. They might try something."

"Jimmy," the police chief's voice was firm, "this nice couple aren't going to do a thing. Do what I told you."

"But..."

"Jimmy," the chief continued, slightly amused. "They'd have to be awfully old to have anything to do with this. Those skeletons are over a hundred years old. I'd say they just solved part of the town mystery for us."

"Mystery? The Patterson mystery?" Jimmy's jaw dropped in surprise.

"Yes, now go make those calls. It's wet and cold out here!"

"Patterson mystery?" Angie looked surprised. Now what have you done, Rollie?

"Yeah," the chief nodded toward the inn. "Come on folks, let's take this inside where it's warm and dry."

Angie wasn't going to question this chance to get Rollie in out of the storm, but the Aussie stubbornly dug in his heels. "Shouldn't someone stay with the, um, bodies?"

The police chief shook his head. "They've been here this long. I think they'll be fine for a while longer. Come on."

Rollie reluctantly allowed Angie and the police chief to lead him back to the inn. They went in through the back door, finding themselves in the warm, dry comfort of a large, well lit kitchen.

"How about some hot coffee, Patricia?" The chief requested, passing a knowing eye over the young couple. The tall man looked like he was chilled to the bone, he was shaking so much. Of course, you did just find a couple of skeletons. All the more reason to shake.

"Of course, Tom," Patricia readily poured cups for the couple and the town's police chief. "What...?"

"Mister...?" He looked questioningly at the couple.

"Tyler, Rollie Tyler. This is my wife, Angie," Rollie responded as he sat in the straight back chair. He smiled at his wife and nodded his thanks to Mrs. Emerson for the hot cup she placed in front of him. He shifted and wrapped a hand around the mug, sighing in relief as the warmth soaked into his cold hand.

A soft mew came and the little black cat poked its head up. It nosed the table, then gravitated to the top. The little cat sniffed his hand, then gave it a lick. It sat down and began to groom itself. A careful glance told Rollie that his new friend was a female.

"Don't tell me that cat was making all that racket?" Mrs. Caldwell asked as she set a pot of soup on the oven to heat up.

"Yes," Rollie responded, rubbing a hand down the cat's back, "she was." The cat purred in appreciation for the gentle touch and arched, trying to get more contact.

Tom shook his head in amusement. "Anyway, I think Mister Tyler found the Pattersons."

"What?!" Their hostesses chorused, Mrs. Emerson almost dropping the coffee pot. She set it down hastily.

The police chief nodded. "Those skeletons look to be the right age. Of course, the lab will have to date the remains before we can be sure."

"Who were the Pattersons?" Angie asked.

"Charles and Amy Patterson." Mrs. Caldwell answered. "They were newlyweds that disappeared at the turn of the last century."

"Close. It was actually 1899," Tom Scanlon corrected. "They and John Kirkpatrick seemed to vanish off the face of the earth at the same time. There was a lot of speculation about what really happened. Some folks thought that the Pattersons went west to start a new life, that Amy was pregnant before they got married and they wanted to have their family without the shame of their first born being conceived out of wedlock. My granddad always swore Kirkpatrick murdered them and escaped, though he would never explain to me why." He nodded to the Tylers. "I think you just proved which theory was right, Mister Tyler."

"Rollie, please." The Aussie contemplated what he had seen in those frozen moments of time. "I wonder why he did it..."

"Well, my grandmother said that Kirkpatrick was jealous," Mrs. Caldwell answered.

"Mine always said he was crazy." Mrs. Emerson challenged.

"Maybe he was both," Angie pointed out, "I mean you'd have to be pretty crazy to murder people."

Rollie arched an eyebrow at that. "Thank you, Doctor Ramirez," he whispered.

Angie punched in his shoulder in response.

Rollie jumped, "ouch", and rubbed his shoulder while staring at his wife.

"Well, what's your theory?" Angie demanded.

Rollie shook his head. "Oh no! I don't have a theory and I'm not going to make one up." He remembered something and looked at the police chief. "Why did you ask for a priest?"

"You sent for Father Paul?" Mrs. Caldwell asked.

Chief Scanlon cleared his throat. "Yes, I sent for Father Paul." He looked at the Tylers. "He's something of the town historian. If anyone can put together the facts about this thing, it will be him." He shrugged a bit sheepishly. "Besides, it seems like they've been waiting long enough for some peace."

Much to Angie's surprise, Rollie nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I think you're right." He wondered why he had been drawn him there. If it was just a coincidence or if it had been a murderer out for more blood or his victims seeking peace. Newlyweds... Angie and I could still be considered newlyweds. Is that why? Or... He shivered and took a sip from his cup of coffee. "Good coffee."

"Thank you," Mrs. Emerson smiled warmly.

"Here, have some soup." Mrs. Caldwell spooned the hot food from the pot into a couple of bowls and placed a plate of toast on the table. "It will help you both to warm right up. Do you want some Tom?"

"Now Louisa, you know I'll never say no to yours or Patricia's cooking." He eagerly accepted a bowl.

"Better not let Lilly find out that you're flirting with us, Tom Scanlon!" Louisa still blushed in pleasure at the praise. She quickly spooned up more soup for the others.

"Chief? Mrs. Caldwell? Mrs. Emerson?" A tall young man with black hair and dark eyes opened the door to the kitchen and stepped inside. He removed the yellow souwester from his head and smiled warmly.

"Father Paul! Come in!" Mrs. Caldwell wiped her hands on her apron. "Fix Father Paul a cup, Patricia."

"Thank you, Mrs. Emerson." The young man gratefully accepted the cup of coffee.

"So did you...? Chief Scanlon started.

"Yes, I did." Father Paul looked at the couple at the kitchen table and smiled at the cat that was pressing against the man's hand, seeking to get it moving again. The man scratched it absently behind the ears. "I take it you found them?"

"Yes," Rollie cleared his throat. "Yes, I did. I'm Rollie."

"I'm Father Paul," he answered with a smile, "as if you couldn't guess. It must have been quite a shock."

"Yeah, it was," Rollie confirmed. You don't know how big of a shock.

"Do you think it's the Pattersons, Father?" Scanlon leaned forward, eager.

The priest nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, I do. The remnants of their clothes match what people said they were wearing when they last saw them."

"I wonder what happened to Kirkpatrick." The chief looked at his soup and ate a spoonful.

"You didn't notice?" Father Paul asked in surprise.

"Notice what?"

"The other body."

"Body? What other body?"

"In the root cellar," Rollie volunteered, remembering what he'd seen.

"In the root cellar?" Chief Scanlon looked at the younger men in surprise.

Father Paul nodded confirmation. "Do you want to see?"

Tom Scanlon stood up. "Guess I better, before the doc gets it moved."

A moment after the two men left, Roger cautiously stuck his head into the kitchen. "Rollie? Are you all right?"

'I'm fine, Roger," the Aussie answered.

"Coffee, Mister Keller?" Mrs. Emerson asked.

"Don't mind if I do." Keller sat down, accepting the mug. He took a sip and looked at the SPFX crew. "So, are we stuck for a few days?"

"Not that I know about," Rollie admitted, using the excuse of drinking his coffee to hide his smile.

"Are you sure? I mean you did say bodies..." Roger looked uncertainly at the couple, looking first at Rollie, then Angie, then back to Rollie.

Rollie grimaced. "I probably should have said skeletons. From what Chief Scanlon and Father Paul said they're probably a hundred years old."

"Oh," the assistant director looked at his cup uncertainly, then back at the Australian. "Are you all right?" He knew he was repeating himself, but he couldn't think of anything else to say or any other way to convey his concern, for that matter.

"I'm fine, Roger, don't worry about it."

Roger blinked. "Don't worry about it. Rollie! You just found a couple of skeletons!"

"Yeah," Rollie stared off into the distance. "Well, it's not the first time we've found a body, is it Angie."

"Angie?" Keller looked at Angie in surprise.

"Oh yeah," Angie nodded, "last one just sort of rolled on to the set."

Roger Keller's eyes bugged out. "On the set?!?"

Rollie concentrated on his food and coffee with occasional rubs for the cat who kept coming back to him, letting Angie tell Keller about the body that had been accidently left in the cryogenic chamber, their pursuit of an answer of who, how and why, how it led to Angie herself being kidnapped and frozen. He shivered as he remembered the desperation of trying to revive her. Thank God, we did! He didn't know what he would do without Angie and he never wanted to find out! He shivered again, a cold feeling growing in the pit of his stomach, as he remembered the--visions--he'd had of the murder. Nothing like that ever happen to me before! I don't even believe! Why me?!? It was far too weird for him. Did it have some relation to his link with Mangela? Or the dreaming? Rollie didn't know what to think. He pushed the rest of the soup away. Suddenly, it didn't seem quite so appetizing. When Mrs. Caldwell asked him about it, he shrugged it off as due to the big dinner that he'd eaten. He could see Angie looking at him out of the corner of his eye and hoped she wouldn't call him on it. At least, not until we're home again!

Chief Scanlon and Father Paul returned. Rollie looked at them apprehensively.

The chief shook his head. "Talk about irony. Kirkpatrick murdered the Pattersons, then trips over a root in the cellar and bashes his head in before he can escape."

"That wasn't a root," Father Paul told him.

"What?"

"He's right. It was a hand." Rollie looked at the priest, curious now. The man clearly had an idea of who it was.

"Damn it! I better get my eyes checked," Scanlon started, then paused. "Sorry, Father Paul."

"That's okay. I won't make you do any 'hail Marys'... This time," the priest told him, his dark eyes twinkling with laughter. He looked at the others and sobered. "According to Neške'e, my grandmother, Kirkpatrick built on an ancient burial ground. It looks like she was right."

"An Indian burial? Damn!" Chief Scanlon flushed as he got flustered. "I mean, a Native American burial ground?"

"Yes," Father Paul confirmed, ignoring the 'PC' slip and the slight curse. "No relation to Neške'e, of course."

"Considering that she's Cheyenne? Yeah, that would be right," the police chief sat down at the table. "So, Mister Tyler, you want to get your statement over with tonight or wait until tomorrow?"

Rollie wrapped his hands around his coffee mug. "We were hoping to go home tomorrow..."

"Then we'll just get it done tonight," the police chief pulled out a pad. "No reason for you to have to stay. You certainly couldn't have been involved. Your grandparents maybe, but not you."

"Considering my grandparents were in Australia, it would be a little difficult," Rollie responded with humor. He knew what the chief was doing. Leo used to do much the same thing. He felt himself relaxing again and was grateful. He told the story, starting with hearing the crying on the roof. The Aussie was careful to omit any hint of what he'd seen in the old house. He didn't know why he had seen it, if it was real or hallucination, but he didn't want to have to explain it. Actually, he couldn't explain it! He wondered if anyone could...

The police chief verified that Roger and Angie hadn't seen anything, then closed his pad. "I'll have your statement ready in the morning. What time are you planning on leaving?"

"We're aiming for around seven o'clock," Roger said.

"Good enough," he stood up. "Either I or one of my boys will have it here around six thirty, ready for you to sign, Mister Tyler."

Rollie smiled. "Thank you, I really appreciate that." He stood up and shook his hand.

"Not a problem," Chief Scanlon looked at Father Paul. "Would you like a lift, Father?"

"In this storm? Don't mind if I do, Chief." Father Paul stood and smiled. "What about this little lady?" He rubbed the cat's ears.

"I guess she better to go to the animal shelter..." Rollie started unhappily. It seemed a shameful thing to do, considering what she'd done.

"You know, Rol, Chiops isn't getting any younger." Angie commented.

"Are you saying we should get another cat, Ange?" Rollie looked at his wife in surprise. He considered the idea, then shook his head. "She probably already has a home."

"I don't think so," Chief Scanlon told them. "She looks a bit like some of the strays we've seen in the neighborhood."

"I--Are you sure?" Rollie asked.

"Not really, but most of the pets in town have collars."

"Our veterinarian is a firm believer in identification tattoos for his patients as well," Father Paul quickly added. "My cat has one in her ear and so does Neške'e's." He checked the little black cat and shook his head. "There isn't one here, so she probably is a stray."

"Well..." Rollie frowned thoughtfully, unsure of what would be the right thing to do.

"We could take her home with us and the chief could check around town. If he finds owners, we can bring her back. If he doesn't..." Angie shrugged.

"All right, we'll take her home," Rollie gave in. "If you're sure? Do you think she'll get along with Chiops and Bluey?"

"Is Chiops your cat?" Father Paul asked.

"Angie's cat, actually," Rollie confirmed.

"Blue is Rollie's pet. He's a robot dog," Angie added.

"A robot dog?" Father Paul looked shocked.

"Yeah, Rollie built him. I don't think it will be a problem, boss. If Chiops and Blue can live together, another cat shouldn't be a problem."

"I hope you're right, Angie."

"I am." Angie smiled smugly. "Trust me."

Father Paul grinned, their turned to their hostesses. "Louisa, Patricia, I hope you're ready for an invasion."

"Invasion?" Louisa Caldwell looked at the priest in confusion.

He chuckled. "Now that we know there really is a burial ground here, the university is going to be very interested. They'll probably send up a few archaeologists and anthropologists along with a whole army of students."

"Do you really think it will be that significant?" Angie asked, curious.

"Oh yes," the priest nodded. "There's quite a bit of interest in the early Native tribes in this area."

"Do you think the people from the school would stay here?" Patricia asked.

"A solid roof over their heads instead of tents and mud? Not to mention, your excellent food. They'll stay!"

"And they'll be welcome," Louisa commented as she saw them to the door. "Well, I imagine you must ready for bed," she said as she looked at their guests.

"I know I am," Roger nodded. "No offense, Rollie, but no more adventures! Please!"

"Hey! It's not my fault," Rollie responded indignantly. He gathered up the cat and wrapped an arm around Angie.

"Uh huh," Angie said, holding a finger up. "Rescue Roger and the camera crew from a runaway car this morning." She put up another finger. "You found our mysterious crier tonight." The blonde added a third finger. "In the process, solving a hundred year old mystery," Angie held up a fourth finger, "and found an ancient burial ground. That's a lot for one day, even for you, Rollie."

Rollie glared at his wife for a moment. "Ha ha," he grimaced. "It still isn't my fault and it's a hundred and two year old mystery, not a hundred." But I'm not going to mention hallucinating about seeing the murders... Maybe tomorrow, once we're home. Maybe. He guided her toward the stairs.

"Technicality! Just think Rol," Angie grinned mischievously, "Halloween's tomorrow. No telling what you'll find then."

"Bloody lovely," Rollie muttered under his breath. If something does happen, I'll never live it down.

Angie snagged a couple of towels from the small bathroom before surrendering it to Roger's use. The couple sat on their bed, towelling each others hair dry. They exchanged several kisses during the process, but Angie could tell that Rollie was tired. She coaxed her husband under the covers. They curled up together, Rollie's arm resting on her waist, Angie's head pillowed by his shoulder. Sure enough, a few moments after his head touched the pillow, Rollie was sound asleep. The little black cat abandoned the bed Rollie had made for her on the floor using one of his shirts. She leapt up on to the bed and found a spot that suited her, curling up on the covers between Rollie and Angie. Purring, she fell asleep.

Angie closed her eyes and listened as Roger came out of the bathroom, puttered quietly around the room for a few moments, then turned off the lights. She hugged Rollie and drifted off to sleep.

The day started far too early as far as Angie and the little black cat were concerned. To make matters worse, Rollie and Roger were wide awake and entirely too cheerful for her peace of mind. Even if Rollie did let her sleep later, she was put out by having to loose her warm pillow. A good, strong cup of coffee revived her somewhat, but Angie was further irritated as the cat swiftly forgave Rollie when he fed her a bowl of milk for breakfast. She was happy to see the police chief arrive and leave with Rollie's signed statement, her fears that they would be forced to stay allayed. She perked up further as they pulled out on to the road home. Good! Maybe I'll finally get back on to the Internet. Angie smiled at the thought. The last couple of weeks had been a hassle since she hadn't been able to get a connection. She'd tried all of her best tricks too! Rollie's teasing her about it hadn't helped any either.

After the third time of extracting Rollie from the grip of an excited kitten-cat attack, Angie opted to take over driving duties at their next rest stop. Once the cat was settled comfortably into Rollie's lap, her excitement turned more to bouncing around her chosen seat, looking out the windshield. The Tylers were glad when they reached New York City. Angie waved to the truck following them as she took the turn toward home and left the convoy behind. She was glad they didn't have to go all the way to the studio before going home.

Once at the loft on Brewery Lane, the couple split up. Angie immediately headed for the phone to call the Gattis and let them know they were back and find out when they could collect Chiops. Rollie set about introducing their new pet to Bluey. A few instructions from his master easily added the newcomer to Blue's database, but it wasn't quite so easy for the cat. When the little spider-like robot barked a response, all of her fur stood on end and she practically flew to the safety of Rollie's shoulder.

I should check the security tapes and see if she really did fly, Rollie thought to himself as he listened to her complaints right in his ear. "Now, none of that," Rollie said firmly as he gently removed her from her perch. He winced as a claw pulled at his skin, then squatted down with the black cat in his arms. "Blue won't hurt you," he told the cat. "Come here, Bluey. That's a good boy." The cat twisted around, trying to escape as Blue barked his affirmative and moved toward them, but Rollie had a firm hold that kept most of her claws away from his anatomy. "If you're going to stay, you're going to have to get used to Blue," the Aussie murmured in her ear. When the robot dog came to a stop in front of them, the cat slowly calmed down. She sniffed curiously and not smelling a dog, she blinked. Rollie felt her relax a bit and eased his hold. The little cat flowed out of his hands and sniffed Blue all over. When he turned his head slightly to look at her and wagged his antenna tail, she jumped back. Bluey gave another little bark and whined. The newcomer edged cautiously forward again, investigating the strange creature. She mewed plaintively in puzzlement. When Blue barked happily and approached Rollie, she didn't jump away. To Rollie's amusement, the cat seemed to shrug and wandered off, more concerned with investigating the scent of another cat than a not-dog that no longer seemed like a threat.

"Sarah asked if she could wait until tomorrow to return Chiops," Angie told Rollie as she followed him into the kitchen. "I told her it wasn't a problem. They're really stretched thin with all the overtime Frank's putting in at the precinct and it being Halloween tonight. She's taking the girls to a Fall Festival and doesn't know yet if he's going to be able to make it."

Rollie looked faintly disappointed, but shrugged. "Are they wearing costumes?"

"Oh yeah! It wouldn't be Halloween without costumes, Rol. Sarah promised to take pictures though and bring them by here so I can download them. She'll bring Chiops too and we can introduce him to our new little lady."

"Pity she won't be bringing the munchkins as well."

"Well, it is a school day, Rol." Angie pointed out, then swiftly changed the subject. "Speaking of our new pet, how did she respond to Blue?"

"Pretty skittish at first, but she settled down quick. I think the basic response is going to be to ignore him."

"Well, that's good." Angie grabbed a water from the refrigerator. "I'm going to check out the forums, see what's happened while we were gone."

Rollie nodded as he checked out Chiops' cat food. He frowned thoughtfully. "I think I'll make a run to the grocers and get some more cat food--Something for a younger cat," referring to the fact that all the food they had was 'scientifically designed for older cats'. "Do you want anything?"

Angie shook her head. "Nah, I can't think of anything," she responded as she headed for her clean room.

Rollie checked their supplies and added a few more items to his shopping list. He stepped up on to the stairs and called up to Angie. "Maybe I better take her to the vet's and get her checked before Chiops gets home!" He heard something that vaguely sounded like a 'sounds good' from his wife. Rollie chuckled and went to find their newest pet who proved ridiculously easy to round up. Taking the keys for the pickup, he headed out, leaving Angie to surf the Internet in peace.

When Rollie returned, he could hear Angie still up in the clean room, either talking to herself or to someone in one of those voice chat rooms. He wondered how she'd managed to find someone this time of the day, then shrugged. The Internet was international after all. She might be talking to someone in Europe. He released the cat, newly given a clean bill of health, shots and a new collar with tags, who went off obviously miffed with him. He wondered how long that would last as he fetched the groceries. He plopped a big bag of mixed Halloween candy on the counter, then added a bag full of Halloween crayons. That will handle any trick-or-treaters, if we get some, he thought in satisfaction as he went to get his last acquisition. The large pumpkin was placed gently in the middle of the kitchen table. He'd work on that after he fed the cat. He thought back to the visit to the vet's and wondered what they were going to name her. So far, nothing jumped to mind for him. Maybe Ange will have an idea. They're right, she does need a name.

The black cat swiftly forgave Rollie for his uncouth behavior shown by taking her to the veterinarian's when the bowl of food appeared. Food is a great incentive for forgiveness, Rollie thought as he watched her chow down eagerly. Not fair! He chided himself. She is a stray and probably isn't used to regular meals. Finished, the cat gave a quick wash and curled up in the middle of some cloth scraps that Rollie had left on his work bench, ready to take a nap.

Rollie hummed softly as he worked on turning his pumpkin into a jack o' lantern. He grinned as he remembered the first time he'd done this. It had been with Angie. She'd been so intent on getting hers exactly right. Only eleven, she had been thoroughly angry when Manny had told his apprentice that his showed a lot of imagination and character. Rollie hadn't quite dared to tell his newest friends that it was the first time he'd ever done one and that he had only the vaguest ideas of just what a jack o' lantern was suppose to look like. That confession hadn't been made until the following spring. Fortunately, Angie had been ready to see the humor in the situation by then and they all had a good laugh over it. This year though, he thought he would go for a more traditional look.

Once his jack was finished and wired for light, Rollie turned his attention to the guts of the matter. The seedy part was discarded, but... He examined the remaining fruit carefully. Well, it wasn't butternut squash, still, he thought it would do. Rummaging in the cabinets and refrigerator, he found all the ingredients he wanted and set about a different type of transformation.

As soon as Rollie had the meal ready, he fixed two trays. He knew that he wouldn't be able to budge Angie from her beloved Internet and saw little reason to try. He quietly carried it up to the clean room and cleared his throat. "Hi. I thought you might be hungry." Angie waved vaguely toward a clear space and Rollie placed the tray of food there. He wasn't sure if she had really heard him, but it didn't matter. The aromatic scent of fresh baked bread would soon wend its way into her consciousness. Meal delivered, he clattered downstairs to partake of his own nourishment and to find something to do.

Rollie consumed his simple meal of pumpkin soup, fresh bread and hot tea with gusto. As soon as he was finished, he took his tray back to the kitchen and rinsed the dishes, placing them in the dishwasher for later. He sat at his desk and looked over his list of things to do. Deciding, he pulled out a fresh drawing pad and an engineer's pencil. He leaned back in his chair and thought about their next movie. Slowly, he started to sketch his ideas for some of the props they would need.

The rest of the day passed quietly, drifting into evening. Rollie had opened the bag of crayons and used a set to color some of the drawings he had finished. Strangely enough, the black, silver and pumpkin orange colors fit just right for the look he was after. He stopped when his stomach growled at him. Rollie looked at the windows over the doors and was somewhat surprised by how late he was. He stood and stretched, drifting over to the kitchen. The cat hurried over and weaved around his legs, anxious for more food. The Aussie was happy to oblige.

Since Angie still showed no signs of surfacing, he re-heated the soup and toasted some of the remaining bread. Taking a new tray up to the clean room, he observed his wife quietly for a moment. The blonde seemed to be in the thrall of some problem or other. He could see one computer was open to a chatroom, one he actually knew since Angie had persuaded him to join the chats there a few times. He wasn't quite sure what she was doing on the other computer, but... It looked like Angie had hacked her way into something or other.

"Hey Ange, what are you doing?" Rollie asked curiously as he exchanged the empty tray for the fresh one.

"Huh? Oh, hi Rol. I'm trying to figure something out. We've been chatting and your ID, BoyBlue, comes in, but doesn't say anything and then disappears along with all traces of his entrance. It's really weird." She looked up at the Aussie suspiciously. "So what did you do to cause that?"

"Do?" Rollie was torn between amusement and indignation. "Angie, I don't know who you've been seeing, but I assure you I haven't been in the chatroom. Bloody hell! I haven't touched a computer all day!"

Angie stared at Rollie for a moment, then glanced at the monitor showing the chatroom. "Okay, then maybe somebody hacked your ID. Their security is totally pathetic. It didn't even take me a minute to get in. Don't worry though, I'll figure it out."

"Sure sweetie, just don't forget to eat," Rollie said and turned to head back downstairs with the dirty dishes. "Hey! It's Halloween you know, maybe the chatroom is haunted."

"Ha ha," Angie responded sarcastically. She focused on the system she'd hacked, then called after him. "By the way, thanks for the feed, Rol! It's delicious." She grinned when Rollie just waved at her over his shoulder. She spooned up some soup and swallowed as she scrolled through the logs for the time she was interested in. "Damn!" Nothing! I don't understand it. She frowned thoughtfully, chewing on her lower lip. There should have been some trace of the BoyBlue ID logging in, if nothing else and yet there wasn't anything. She turned her attention to the attributes for the ID itself. That only added to the mystery. According to the last use stamp, it hadn't been touched except for a backup for over three weeks. Angie flipped her calendar back, checking the date. "Yeah, that would be about right for the last time Rollie joined us. So what is going on?" She turned her attention back to the chat that was currently in session.

Angie returned her attention to the chatroom's server, determined to get to the bottom of this particular mystery. Ghosts, Rollie Tyler? You're making fun of me, but I am going to find the truth. Then we'll see who laughs last!

Rollie jerked when Blue barked. "What?"

"Arf arf," Blue spoke, then whined. He walked toward the doors.

The Aussie glanced at his watch. It was after nine o'clock so it shouldn't be trick-or-treaters. So who was there? Watching Bluey, he knew someone was at the front door. Someone who hadn't buzzed or knocked. "Window one, Bluey." He walked over to where he could see the monitor and frowned. Two kids, or at least it looked like a couple of kids, were at the door. The biggest one seemed to push at the door. Blue growled softly, then barked again. Rollie tugged on his lower lip, thinking. They looked awful young to be out at this time of night alone, but he didn't see any signs that anyone was with them. "All exterior cameras, Blue." The monitor divided up to show all the outside cameras for the loft and Brewery Lane. He didn't see anyone else out there. Well, we can't leave two little kids out there alone this time of night. Rollie turned toward the doors and ordered, "Open door, Blue." With a whine, Blue unlocked the door.

Rollie watched as the door swung open. Two little faces appeared. They were wearing face paint so he didn't have a clear idea of what they looked like, but both were too young to be running around without supervision. The boy was wearing a black jogging suit with a silver reflective stripe. He was made up like a vampire. The little girl looked like a witch. The orange of her costume was also reflective. He smiled slightly as two pairs of eyes bugged out. The little boy stepped timidly inside, an even younger girl hanging on to his hand. They looked around nervously.

"See! I told you we could do it," the boy said. "We got to get something to show Alex we really came here."

"Are--are you sure, Ricky?" the little girl squeaked out. "I--I'm scared. Who opened the door?"

Rollie suddenly realized that the loft was dark except for the light at his desk and the ones in the clean room. The kids didn't see him. He'd have to be careful though, he didn't want to scare them to death. He licked his lips, then spoke in his friendliest tone of voice. "G'day."

Both of the children jumped and clutched at each other. The bags they were carrying spilled to the floor forgotten.

"Lights, Blue," Rollie ordered. Blue barked once and turned the lights on.

The children stared at the little robot dog in wide-eyed wonder. Curious, the black cat strolled out and started nosing the bags, looking for something new to eat. The wonder turned toward fear as they watched the little cat.

Rollie took a step forward, then squatted so he'd be closer to their height. "Hi, I'm Rollie. Who are you?" He knew all the kids in the neighborhood, but he didn't recognize this pair at all. Where did they come from and why?

The little boy, who couldn't be more than eight, looked at the little girl who looked to be about six. "I--I'm Ricky Fulton. This is my sister, Tiffany."

"Hello Ricky, Tiffany," Rollie said softly. "What are you doing here? I don't recall seeing you in the neighborhood before."

"We--we just moved here," Ricky told the man. He tried to smile.

Rollie grinned. "Really? It's always nice to meet new neighbors. I'm Rollie Tyler." He held out his hand to shake.

Ricky stepped forward, timidly, Tiffany hiding behind him, and took Rollie's large hand in his own. They shook. "I--we're sorry, we didn't know anyone lived here. Alex told us it was haunted and he said we were scaredy cats who wouldn't dare to come in here." He frowned as he said that. He didn't like people calling them scared and daring them.

"Who's Alex?" Rollie asked, as he straightened and reached for the treats he'd picked up earlier.

"Alex is our brother!" Tiffany piped up, her eyes locked on the goodies.

"Really? And how old is Alex, Tiffany?" Rollie asked casually.

"He's thirteen. I'm six and a half!" She held up her fingers to show how old she was. "Ricky is eight."

It sounded like Alex was old enough to know better. Where was he? He should've been watching his brother and sister, making sure they were all right. Rollie supposed some of the other kids had told him about the loft and the things inside. That was what probably gave him the idea of daring his littler siblings. Still, he should be nearby... "Where is Alex?"

Ricky answered. "He's back at our new apartment. Is that a real dragon head?" He pointed toward the realistic looking head.

"Yeah, that's a dragon's head all right," Rollie responded, even as he wondered how he was going to reach their parents. "It's a prop actually. You know, like in the movies?"

"Movies?" Tiffany bent down to run a gentle hand down the cat's back and over her tail. She looked around at the loft with wide eyes, taking in all the strange and mysterious objects that filled her view.

"Yes, movies. That's what we do, special effects for movies." The Aussie smiled as the two kids got even more excited.

"Like Shrek? And Cats And Dogs?" Tiffany asked eagerly.

"And Harry Potter?" Ricky chimed in. He was really looking forward to seeing Harry Potter! It didn't matter that it was going to be forever before he did. He couldn't wait to see it!

"Well, kind of. We didn't work on any of those movies, but we've done lots of others." Rollie racked his brain, trying to think of some that were appropriate for their age. Damn! We need to do some kid friendly movies, Ange!

Ricky spotted a poster and ran over to it. "Look at this, Tiffy! It's Earth Doom!"

Tiffany followed her brother to the poster. "We saw that last night on the TV!"

Earth Doom?! Aren't they a little young for that one? Rollie followed more slowly. "We did the FX for that one."

"Really? You made the asteroid hit the city and blow it up?" Ricky looked up, his eyes glowing.

"Yep. That's what we do. Special effects--F X."

"Wow!" Ricky and Tiffany looked around with fresh eyes, eager to explore the strange new world they'd entered on their brother's dare.

Rollie squatted down beside them. "Ricky. Do you have a phone number for your parents?" He held his breath. Ricky might not know his new number if they'd just moved here. Still, he had to try. He didn't want to involve the police unless he had no other choice.

Ricky nodded. "646-555-3474" He rattled expertly off. "That's Daddy's new cell phone. We don't have a regular phone yet."

"646-555-3474," Rollie muttered under his breath, trying to remember the number. "I'll give your folks a call, then I'll give you the grand tour. How about that?"

"And treats?" Tiffany asked seriously.

"Of course treats, sweetie! It's Halloween! We have to have treats!" Rollie exclaimed as he walked to the phone. "Otherwise, you might play tricks on me!" He made his eyes wide and round and looked scared at the idea.

The kids giggled at that and turned their attention back to the posters on the wall as Rollie dialed the number. He waited impatiently for an answer. "Mister Fulton?"

"Yes, I'm Mark Fulton. Who is this?"

"I'm Rollie Tyler. I live at 256 Brewery Lane."

"Yes, Mister Tyler?" Fulton sounded puzzled. The address seemed familiar, but he didn't know any Rollies. How had this man gotten his number? He hadn't had it for very long.

"Do you have a daughter named Tiffany and two sons, Alex and Ricky?"

"Yes, we do. What is it? Has something happened?" Rollie could hear the anxiety that had found it's way into the man's voice.

"They're fine, but... Well, Ricky and Tiffany are at my place."

"Your place? What in the world are they doing there?"

"It seems Alex told them it was haunted and dared them to come here," Rollie told him bluntly. As far as he was concerned, Alex Fulton needed a lesson. He just hoped his parents would give it to him!

"Alex?!"

Rollie heard the sounds of voices in the background. He couldn't make out what they were saying, but they sounded both worried and angry.

"Mister Tyler?"

"Rollie, please. Yes, Mister Fulton?"

"I'm sorry you've been bothered. Could you tell me how to get there? We'll pick up Rick and Tiffany right away."

"Where are you now?" Rollie asked. After the father gave him the address, he explained the directions to the loft. He also gave him their phone number, just in case they got turned around.

"We'll be right there! Thank you, Mister, er, Rollie." Mark said with sincere gratitude.

"You're welcome. We'll be looking for you." Rollie hung up and went to give the kids the promised tour. Blue made a big impression. They treated him just like a real dog, which pleased Rollie to no end. To him, Blue was a real dog. The props were a big success, especially when Rollie had Blue activate the dragon. That seemed to be their favorite. Until they saw the V.R. chamber. Rollie ran through a couple of programs and they were fascinated.

"It's like we were really there!" Tiffany exclaimed as she skipped down the stairs, holding Rollie's hand. "I like Australia! I want to go there for real!"

"I like Australia too! I want to go and meet the Crocodile Hunter," Ricky added.

"You mean Steve Irwin?" Rollie asked.

"Yeah!" Tiffany answered.

Ricky looked up at the tall, lanky man, his brow puckered. "You know, you talk funny, a little like he does."

Rollie laughed heartily. "That's because I'm Australian too. I just grew up in a different region so my accent's a bit different and I've been in the States for awhile now. That affected the ol' accent too." The Aussie looked at his audience which was looking at him with greater appreciation. "You want to know something?" He whispered dramatically, as if about to share a great secret. The pair nodded seriously. "Don't tell Angie, but I know Steve and Terri."

"You know the Crocodile Hunter?!" Ricky's mouth dropped open. "Wow!"

"Who's Angie?" Tiffany asked, curious.

"Angie's my wife. She's up there." He pointed at the clean room. They could just make out the silhouette of someone inside. "She's busy with something on the Internet, but maybe she'll come down in a bit and you can meet her." Rollie led his young guests over to the lounge area and fetched cups of hot chocolate. He found a bouncy, fuzzy ball, tied a string around it and they had fun getting the cat to chase after it.

The squeals of laughter penetrated Angie's concentration. Curious, she came downstairs to find out what her husband was doing. She was surprised to find him playing with two children and the cat. "Hey Rol!"

"Well, hello Angie. I'd like you to meet our guests. This is Tiffany and Ricky Fulton." He indicated the youngsters.

"Hi Angie!" The two chorused and giggled. They smiled brightly at the pretty blonde who smiled back.

"Hello Tiffany, Ricky. I pleased to meet you." She looked pointedly at her husband.

Rollie stood up and brushed his jeans. "Excuse me a moment, mates." He went over to his wife.

"Where did they come from?" Angie asked, puzzled. She thought she knew all the neighborhood kids, but she didn't recognize them.

Rollie explained how the pair ended up at the loft. He watched as Angie's eyes flashed in anger and he put his hand on her arm. "Their parents will be here any minute, Ange. I'm sure they didn't have any idea that Alex was going to do what he did."

"Yeah, well, I hope they realize how serious this is. Tiffany and Ricky are all right, but it could have ended differently--a whole lot differently!"

Rollie nodded seriously. "Yeah. Their father sounded really upset and, going by what I could hear from the phone, it sounded like their mum wasn't any happier. They know."

Angie smiled at Tiffany who was looking over at them. "I'm going to make some tea. Want some?"

"No thank you, luv. I just had hot chocolate."

"Hot chocolate? With marshmallows, I bet!"

Rollie nodded meekly, pretending to be intimidated by Angie.

"And you didn't offer me any!" She glared at him as if she was angry.

""You were busy and I didn't want to interrupt."

"He would have shared too, Angie!" Tiffany came over to defend her new friend.

"Hmm," Angie pretended to consider that. "Yeah, I guess you're right, Tiffany. Okay, you're off the hook this time, Rollie."

Rollie nodded in mock relief and led Tiffany back over to where Ricky and the cat were. "Thanks, Tiffany," he whispered.

"You're welcome, Rollie." They returned to their play. Angie finished fixing her cuppa and leaned against the counter, sipping the tea. She watched the game in amusement. Rollie is going to be such a good father, she thought to herself. She heard a knock at the door. She checked the monitor, then went over to open it. "Yes?"

"I'm Mark Fulton, this is my wife, Donna. We received a call from Mister Tyler about our children..."

"Come in. I'm Rollie's wife, Angie." She escorted the anxious couple inside and watched as they smiled in relief.

"Hey rugrats!" Mark called to his two youngest. He looked around at the unusual decor as they looked up, then ran over to join them.

"Hey Dad!" Ricky said. "This is Rollie and Angie. They do special effects! Like in Harry Potter, only they didn't do Harry. They did the effects for Earth Doom!"

"Hello Rollie," Mark nodded to the tall, lanky, brown haired man who followed his children over. "I-we can't thank you enough."

"Yes, I don't know what possessed Alex to send them over here," Donna said. There was a glint of fire in her clear grey eyes. Angie and Rollie knew then that Alex was in for it when his parents got home.

"I hope they weren't any trouble," Mark continued.

"Not a bit of trouble, Mister Fulton." Rollie answered.

"Mark, please. Thank you for taking care of them until we got here."

"No worries," Rollie answered. "I was happy to do it." He wrapped an arm around his wife's waist.

Mark and Donna explained about how they had moved into an apartment on the corner just last week. They'd gone to a party for Mark's work tonight, even though they really hadn't wanted to do it. Rollie could tell they would really have preferred staying home with their kids and enjoying Halloween, but his boss didn't seem to consider families, especially with younger children--Except to show off, it seemed. Both Rollie and Angie were saddened by that attitude. They hoped they never faced something similar, though they'd worked many a Halloween in the past. When Angie had been young, Manny had also worked on Halloween. Somehow though, he always managed to bring Angie to the set if the day's work went too late.

"It's getting late and past your bedtimes. Say good night to Rollie and Angie and we'll go home now," Donna said with a somehow gentle firmness.

"Good night, Rollie. Good night, Angie." Ricky and Tiffany said together. "Thank you. We had a great time!"

"You're welcome," Rollie answered. "We were happy to have you visit." They walked them to the door. "Wait!" Rollie exclaimed. "Your treats!" He darted over to the counter and returned with their bags, along with a handful of candy bars and crayons. He gave the bags back to their owners and distributed the treats to them.

"Thank you, Rollie!" They waved and walked out with their parents, excitedly telling them all about their visit.

Angie closed the door and leaned against it. She looked thoughtfully up at her husband. "Why all the chocolate, Rol? You know we don't get that many trick-or-treaters."

Rollie picked up the cat and looked innocently at Angie. "Well, you can never be too careful, Ange. It turned out to be a good thing. Right?"

"Right," Angie muttered as she followed him up the stairs. At least Rollie got through today without any more stringent events like yesterday's, Angie thought to herself.

As they got ready for bed, Rollie asked Angie, "How did your ghost hunt go?"

"Huh?" Angie looked puzzled, then realized he was asking about the chatroom and BoyBlue. "I don't know, Rol. I couldn't find anything--But I did upgrade the server's security while I was there. Maybe that will stop whoever."

"Yeah? And what are they going to think when they find what you did, Ange?"

Angie grinned mischievously. "Maybe they'll think the goblins did it. Don't worry, Rol. They can't track me down."

Rollie hugged his wife and they climbed into bed, snuggling together. The cat jumped up and made her bed toward the foot. The Aussie looked at her in bemusement. "You know, we need to name her."

"Hmm hmm," Angie murmured. "How about Boo?"

"Ah... I don't think so, Ange. Why don't we sleep on it?" He nuzzled her neck.

"Oookay," Angie purred.

"Lights out, Blue!" Rollie called. A few moments later, an out of sorts cat bounded down the stairs. How was she suppose to get any sleep with all that going on?

A few hours later, Rollie jerked awake and sat up. He blinked sleepily in the glow from the skylight.

"Rollie? What's wrong?" Angie asked as she sat up too.

"Uh?" The Aussie turned toward his wife. "Nothing. Nothing, it was just a--dream..."

"What dream?" Angie hugged him and leaned her head on his shoulder. "Tell me."

Rollie felt himself blush and hoped Angie couldn't see it. "It's silly."

"Tell me," Angie reiterated.

"I dreamt about the Pattersons," Rollie answered.

"Nightmare?" Angie asked, now wide awake.

"No, it wasn't. I dreamt... They thanked me for giving them peace and release."

"Uh huh," Angie waited. She knew there was more than that.

"Um... Amy...Mrs.--Mrs. Patterson kissed--kissed me."

Angie peered closely at her husband in the little light that was available and thought she detected a blush. "Oh?" Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "On the lips?" Her husband's blush deepened as he nodded and she smiled wickedly. "I think I'm jealous. You're going around kissing strange ghosts!"

Rollie looked at Angie in surprise.

"In fact I think I should remind you of all the reasons you should stay with live people," Angie purred. "Especially me!" Angie pulled his head down and their lips came together. She kissed her husband with all the skill and passion she could muster. With her love for Rollie, the kiss rapidly reached nuclear levels. Ghosts, real, virtual and imaginary, were forgotten. The couple slid down in the bed, their hands eagerly exploring each others most sensitive places.