"YOU MISSED HIM?!?!" the voice boomed across the phone line.

"He must have horseshoes imbedded in his ass. He bent over just as I fired the shot."

"I DON’T CARE! Kill him before he takes us both down. No one blackmails me and lives." He tried to calm himself down with a few deep breaths. "What about the pictures?"

"They are taken care of."

"What about negatives?"

There was silence on the end of the line, before finally, an answer. "I couldn’t fine them but I wouldn’t worry. I’ll search Sandoval’s place tonight. I’ll find them."

The voice dripped with malice. "You better. You got me into this with your wife and your mistress. If you don’t take care of this, I’ll take care of you." He voice was eerily calm as he put down the receiver.

**

Trent was lost in thought as the blacktop stretched before him. He didn’t know if this Gilmour person would help or not but right now he was grasping at straws. Anything was worth a try. He glanced at his watch, estimating he’d be at Austin Lane in about 15 minutes. Man, what a day. The stitches in his face were beginning to pull and itch and he was more than a little worried about Jess and Sarah. At least there was a police officer with them when Sarah picked up Jess at the university. Could this really be Roger? Would he have waited this long after escaping to get revenge? Well, he had waited until after Sam was gone before he had tried killing Trent and Sarah. The guy was undoubtedly psychotic and they still couldn’t explain how he had escaped from the maximum-security prison in Ontario. But if it was him, why did Trent have such doubts?

The ringing of his cell phone brought him back to the here and now. "Malloy." He listened, cursed and finally answered. "I’ll be right there." Slowing down, he did a 180 and headed back into Dallas. Ms Gilmour would have to wait.

**

She sat at the kitchen table, a cup of strong coffee in her hand. It had been so amazing. Then he had called her Sarah. Was he getting his memory back? Who was Sarah? And what would he do if he did get his memory back and realized she had lied to him? Could she convince him that he had still just not remembered her? All she knew was that Rick was hers and she wasn’t going to give him up without a fight.

**

Trent saw the flashing lights bouncing throughout the darkness before he reached the familiar corner. Police had barricaded the road so he stopped Jess’ car and clamored out.

"Hold it buddy," the cop boomed, blocking Trent’s path.

"That’s my office." Trent went cold when he saw the fire trucks hosing down the charred shell that used to be Thunder Investigations. After spotting Ryan and Kim, and getting their attention, he was allowed to pass.

"You okay?" he asked, hugging Kim tightly.

"Yes," she whispered the tears she had held in finally coming. "I came back from the bank and saw the smoke. I ran into the bar and told everyone to get out. I couldn’t get in to the office…Oh Trent, " she sobbed.

"It’s okay, Kim. As long as no one was hurt. A building can be rebuilt." Inside a part of Trent was dying. A lot of time, energy and hard work had gone into making the business and now it lay in ashes. He was pissed. "We’re going to find this bastard. We’re going to do it for Carlos," he muttered through clenched teeth.

The fire captain approached them. "It looks like the fire was deliberately set. We think they pulled papers out of the desks and set fire to them in the middle of the office. We’re also pretty sure an accellerant was used. The good news is that this little lady saved some lives by getting everyone out of the bar and calling 911. There seems to just be water damage to the bar."

"Thanks, Larry," Ryan said, clapping the fireman on his back. Turning to Trent, he asked, "You sure you weren’t working on anything out of the ordinary?"

"Just a couple of divorce cases."

Kim piped up, wiping the tears from her eyes. "That reminds me. Mrs. Yates called. She seemed pretty upset and said she wanted to talk to you right away. I told her I would give you a message and get you to call her back but she said she would have to call you because she would be out of touch for awhile. It was really strange. She said she would try tomorrow." Now they both turned their eyes to the sight before them.

"Well, she won’t get through, will she?" Trent suddenly realized he was exhausted. Turning his back on the rubble he said, "I’m going home. I think I’ve had enough for one day."

**

Jess heard the sounds coming from the bathroom. Quietly, she knocked on the door. "Sarah? Are you okay?"

The door opened, and Sarah sat bent over the toilet. "Just the flu," she managed.

Jess stepped over to the linen closet, getting a cloth and running it under cold water. As she handed it to Sarah, she sat beside her on the edge of the tub. "Sarah," she said gently. "It’s not the flu, is it?"

Sarah’s resolve broke and the tears began to flow. "Oh, Jess. What am I going to do? I can’t do this alone!"

Jess moved down to the floor, wrapping her arms around Sarah. "You aren’t alone, Sweetie. Trent and I are here and so is everyone else."

"I don’t know what happened," Sarah sobbed. "We were using protection but…." Her voice came in gasps now.

"Shhh, Sweetie. It’s going to be alright. You are strong and you will get through this. People have been doing this for eons, right? How far do you think you are?"

"Not very. Two months maybe? Oh Jess, why is this happening?" Sarah leaned back against the wall, putting the cold cloth on her forehead.

"Maybe you were just meant to have a little Carlos, so even if he is gone he will still be with you." Jess hugged her tight, stroking her hair to calm her down.

"What if it’s a girl?"

"You can call her Carlotta."

"Do I have to?" Sarah said, a hint of a smile on her face. "I think if it’s a girl it will be Samantha."

"There you go." Jess sighed, smiling slightly. "You’ll get through this Sarah. We all will. This is proof that life always goes on."

Sarah lifted her head to look at Jess. "Just promise me you won’t tell Trent."

"Why not?"

"I want to tell him, but when I am ready. Okay?"

Jess smiled again, hugging Sarah again. "Sure thing, Sweetie. Whatever you want."

**

Much of the next morning was spent salvaging what they could from the burnt out remains of Thunder Investigations and calling people about setting up business at the Thunder Karate dojo. By noon, Trent was sitting in Uppercuts, talking with Butch McMann, owner of the bar below Thunder Investigations.

"I’m sorry, Butch. This is my fault."

The big man looked at him. "You take too much responsibility, Trent. This is the fault of some psycho trying to put you out of business." He went back to mopping up the water that lay on the floor. "I knew you guys were in a dangerous business. You forget I was there myself. Don’t worry, I’ve got insurance to cover this and I’ll be open in a few days. The question is, do you have any idea who was behind this?"

Trent sighed heavily, reaching for the tall brown bottle that sat before him. "I don’t know, Butch. It could have been Roger but I have my doubts. But, I’m at a loss as to who else might hate Carlos and I enough to kill us."

"This wasn’t just about someone who wanted to kill you, Trent. They wanted to destroy something you had. I think you know something someone doesn’t want you to know."

Trent pondered this thought. "Maybe."

"So, what was the last thing you and Carlos were working on?"

"A divorce case," Trent answered, taking another drink. "This guy was a government aide and was fooling around on his wife. Carlos and I got pictures of him and his mistress at some swanky party. Before that it was an insurance fraud case. We caught this guy mountain climbing after he had filed a claim for total disability." Trent thought again. "And the one before that was another divorce. We found evidence that the guy had actually had an illegitimate child with his lover." Another drink. "Just a normal slice of life, right?"

"Sounds innocent enough but it is probably in there somewhere."

"It might just be Roger," Trent said with a sigh. "Maybe my instincts are wrong. I just don’t know."

Butch smiled. "You know better than to doubt your instincts. You just need to look harder."

Trent finished the bottle and placed it on the bar. "Anything insurance doesn’t cover, let me know and I’ll cover it, okay?" Before Butch could complain, Trent was up and placing a bill on the bar. "Gotta go. I have to go talk to a woman who might have seen Carlos’ accident. Wish me luck"

"For what?"

"I wish I knew."

**

The house was quiet as Trent drove up the lane to the old farmhouse. There was an old barn out back and as he approached, Trent could se the canoe beside it. He pulled to a stop and got out, looking around. He saw no movement, as he walked over to the canoe. Something caught his eye. Could it be blood? As he knelt down to examine the brown stain on the floor of the canoe, he was startled by a voice.

"Who the hell are you?"

He wheeled around to find himself facing a woman. Looking her over, she had dark brown hair, and was solidly built. "Are you Gwen Gilmour?" he asked.

"Who the hell are you?" she repeated.

"My name is Trent Malloy, ma’am. I just wanted to ask you a few questions."

"About what?" She was being defensive. She had recognized the name on a business card in Rick’s wallet but she didn’t let it show. Inside she was trembling.

"Do you canoe out on the river?"

"Sometimes. Why?" She glared at him, hand on her hips.

"I’m just looking for anyone who might have seen an accident there the other day. A Durango went over an embankment and landed in the river. The driver was a friend of mine." Trent watched her. She was nervous and wouldn’t meet his eyes.

"Don’t know anything about it. Now please leave." She turned her back to him.

"Is this blood in the canoe, Ms Gilmour?" The question stopped her in her tracks.

"What is or isn’t in my canoe is not your business Mr. Malloy. Now LEAVE!"

As she turned away again, Trent knew she was hiding something. "Ms Gilmour, please. If you know anything, I need your help."

"I said leave. Don’t you understand English? Go away."

"No, I won’t leave. There is something you know that you aren’t telling me. Please. I just want to know what happened to my friend."

"The lady told you to leave." The voice startled Trent, wheeling around to face it, his heart almost stopped. Standing before him was Carlos. Emotions flooded through him, from surprise, shock and anger to relief. Relief won.

"Carlos! Thank God. Are you okay? I’m so glad we found you." Looking at the bandages, Trent began moving towards his partner. He had made one full step when he stopped, realizing a gun was now pointed at him. "Carlos?"

"My name isn’t Carlos. It’s Rick. And I believe you were asked to leave." The coldness in the voice sent shivers down Trent’s spine.

"Carlos, you can’t be serious. It’s me, Trent." A myriad of questions spun through Trent‘s mind. What was happening? Why was Carlos acting this way?

"I don’t care who the fuck you are. My name isn’t Carlos and I want you to leave."

Confused, Trent wheeled to face Gwen. "What the hell did you do to him?" She said nothing but the sound of the hammer on the gun being pulled back was loud and clear. Trent didn’t want to leave but he knew he wasn’t going to get anywhere right now. Slowly he turned back to face the man who called himself Rick. "Okay, I’ll go. But let me leave you with this. If you aren’t Carlos Sandoval, than you shouldn’t have a scar on you stomach right about here." He pointed to a spot just below his own ribcage. "And you also won’t have scars from bullet wounds to your right shoulder." Staring straight into his eyes, pleading, Trent said, "And you won’t have a four inch scar on the bottom of your right foot from when you cut it on glass when we were kids." Slowly he returned to his car, getting behind the wheel and pulling away, trying very hard not to look back.

**

As she watched the car go, Gwen finally let out a breath. She walked over to Rick. "You shouldn’t have come out. Now it isn’t safe for us to stay here." She placed her hand on his arm and tried to lead him back into the house. Rick resisted.

"How did he know about the scar on my stomach?" he asked quietly.

Gwen sighed. "Carlos was you undercover name. He is not a friend, Rick. He is one of the ones who is out to find you and kill you. They'll be coming back for you soon." She led him into the house, helping him to sit down at the table. "You stay here. I am going to run into town for some supplies and then we'll get out of here before they come back." She leaned over and kissed him gently on the lips. "It will be okay. Just be ready to leave when I get back, okay?"

He nodded silently, his mind whirling on what the blond man had said.

**

On the road, Trent grabbed his cell phone. Punching in a number, he struggled to make sense of what had just happened. He was sure it was Carlos. The good news was he was alive. The bad news was he didn’t seem to know Trent. He had searched his eyes and Trent didn’t believe Carlos had been pretending. He really DIDN’T know Trent. His thoughts were interrupted by a voice on the line. "Ryan, its Malloy. Meet me in your office in an hour. There has been a new development and you are not going to believe this…. No, I’ll tell you when I get there. Thanks."

**

Something just didn’t feel right. Carlos seemed almost familiar. Was it his undercover name? Hesitantly, he pulled his right foot up and looked. Sure enough, there was a small scar, obviously from a long time ago. He knew that this man had been the one from his dream as soon as he saw his face. But was he really a friend? He was so confused. He needed to think. Angrily, he started pulling apart the drawers and cupboards in the kitchen, looking for anything that might help him. It took him ten minutes before he found something. Sitting back down on the table, he placed the leather wallet in front of him. Taking a deep breath, he opened it.