PREVIOUSLY ON QUANTUM LEAP

Sam has leaped into Phillip Lund, the Sheriff of the seaside town of Montague Bay, Massachusetts. History has told him he's there to possibly solve the murder of a fisher man, the disappearance of a fishing boat and its owner, and stop the disappearance of his deputy, but things have changed since his attention has focused on a secluded mansion and its mysterious owner, Jerome Cartwright. Now, Sam finds himself the object of a kidnapping.

PART FIVE

July 24, 1962

Montague Bay, Massachusetts

Sam decided his best option was to comply with the man’s instructions, especially since the small weapon he held in his right hand remained in a direct line with the center of his forehead. His own weapon was still securely holstered, the belt slung over the chair in the corner.

“Get dressed, don’t care in what as long as it’s not a uniform.” Blake’s voice was calm and cold as he issued instructions. A small suitcase was dropped onto the bed beside him. “Put a couple of changes of clothes in this.”

Sam dressed quickly his heart pounding; he noted with a small part of his mind how his intuition regarding Cartwright’s involvement had been accurate. The only thing he had not taken into consideration was that his enquiries would make them feel threatened enough to warrant carrying out a kidnapping or whatever they intended to do with him.

Sam completed dressing, filled the bag with a few items and then stood up.  The man standing near the entry walked into the room and took up a position next to Blake watching the leaper closely. “All right now, we are going for a little drive. Any sudden movements out of you and this town’ll be looking for a new Sheriff. Turn around.”

Clenching his jaw in frustration, Sam complied with the man’s directions and turned, a well-muscled arm slid across his chest and then he felt a hand grip his right bicep tightly, the small weapon pressing harshly against his side. The other man stood aside as Sam was urged out the door; the light was flicked off sending the room into shadows before the beam of a flashlight speared out into the darkness. The storm had eased back to a drizzling rain by the time Sam was hustled down the front steps; he was marched across the gravel drive through several large puddles and pushed into the back seat of a large sedan. The second man carefully locked the door of the house behind them and climbed behind the wheel.

Once the car started moving, the questions Sam had held in abeyance could be denied no longer. “Where are you taking me?” he demanded angrily.

“Now, now sheriff, don’t get so hot under the collar,” Blake replied. “Mr. Cartwright decided he would like to have another talk to you.”

“Doesn’t he have a telephone?” Sam asked sarcastically.

Blake ignored the comment. “Seems like you were getting a little too nosy for your own good, and Mr. Cartwright don’t like people who stick their noses into his business.”

“His business being murder, I take it.”

“Not entirely. He has other interests. That’s what we plan to protect. Whatever you have found out through your snooping ain’t gonna go any further.”

Sam blanched at the callous way in which the man spoke. “What are you planning to do, kill me?”

“Maybe, maybe not. That depends entirely on you, Sheriff.”

“Whatever you hope to gain from abducting me won’t do you much good. Deputy Josephs will come to the same conclusion that I did from the information we have gathered,” Sam claimed.

The man in the front seat spoke up. “Oh, you mean this information.” He held up a sheaf of papers including the map that Sam had used. “Only if he can find it, huh, Sheriff?”

Sam’s hopes came crashing down around his shoulders. “What did you do to Jeff Taber and the Ulysses? Did you kill him too?”

Blake shoved his pistol roughly into Sam’s side. “You ask way too many questions. Now, how about you just shut up and enjoy the ride.”

In less than fifteen minutes of swift driving they took a turn down a side road, the further they drove the rougher the journey became until the road became little more than a track winding through dense closely packed trees whose branches slapped at the car as they passed. The night was inky-black, even with the car’s strong headlights. They had gone nearly two miles by Sam’s reckoning when into the radius of the headlights struck a small house. The track passed along the front of the building and the driver was forced to slow down to a crawl in order to swing around and drive into a large shed alongside, the doors of which were wide open.

The headlights illuminated the interior and Sam could see it was a type of garage; there were large forty-gallon drums were stacked around the walls and a workbench that was littered with tools and engine parts. Sam could hear the doors to the garage being closed behind them. Blake nudged Sam with the pistol. “Come on. Here’s where we get out.”

Climbing out of the car, the leaper was not surprised to see an immaculately dressed Cartwright standing by the firmly shut double doors.

“So Sheriff, we meet again,” he said conversationally.

Sam regarded him in a stony silence.

“I do apologize for the unorthodox method that was used to bring you here, but unfortunately you have strayed too close to my business dealings for my peace of mind and I could not take the chance that you would uncover any more information.” He gestured with one hand to the driver of the car. “Did you get what I sent you for, Evans?”

“Yes Mr. Cartwright, it’s all here.” The man identified as Evans handed over the paperwork Sam had been using to find a solution to the missing boat and her skipper.

Cartwright spread out the papers on the workbench and perused them swiftly. “Quite thorough, aren’t you Sheriff?” he said after several minutes.

“It is my job to be,” Sam replied. He flicked his eyes between Blake and Evans working out whether he would be able to deal with both men. The grip Blake had on his arm had eased slightly, no doubt being in familiar surroundings, the man felt comfortable letting his guard down slightly.

“Yes, how unfortunate,” the man replied with a patient sigh. “I should have had the foresight to take precautions regarding the law enforcement in this area before commencing business here.” He picked up the map and rolled it up, pulling a cigarette lighter out of his pocket he applied the flame to one end. “Still all is not lost. That situation will be rectified in a very short time.”

“My deputy is quite capable of duplicating any evidence that you destroy,” Sam informed the man.

“I am sure he is. However, he will have much more important things to occupy his interest.” Cartwright turned to Sam.

“Such as?”

“Your disappearance will be the cause of much curiosity especially seeing as a substantial amount of money goes missing at the same time.”

“What money?” Sam frowned.

“Oh, did you not know?” A facetious expression crossed Cartwright’s face. “There was a break in at the Angler's Club this evening. The prize money for the fishing competition has been stolen, now seeing as you are a member of the committee, it is unfortunate that suspicion will fall directly upon your shoulders.” Cartwright shook his head. “So sad when such a fine upstanding man lets greed get the better of him.”

The implication of the depths this man was willing to go turned Sam cold. Not only was he planning to remove what he perceived as an obstacle but also he was making sure that the Sheriff’s name was tainted at the same time.

While the attention of the three men was fixed on the flames licking at the end of the map, Sam saw his opportunity. Wrenching out of Blake’s grasp, he threw a punch at the unsuspecting man’s face following it up with a high kick that sent him reeling. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Evans charging at him, crouching low he swung a hard blow at the man’s stomach ducking out of the way at the last moment. Evans folded over, his breath whooshing out in an audible grunt.

“Get him, you fools!” Cartwright’s voice sounded from behind.

Sam backed away warily keeping both men in sight, Blake straightened and stalked towards him disregarding the blood that flowed down his face where Sam’s boot had split the skin. “Think you can take me, do you? Well, we’ll see about that.” He menaced gruffly.

Sam angled around keeping the wall at his back. Hoping the man’s fury would provoke him into making a careless move; he watched, his muscles as taut as a piano wire as the big man approached. A sudden blurring movement from Blake and whiteness flashed across Sam’s eyes as a fist struck him with an unyielding power on his right cheek. Staggering back, his vision cleared to see the man drawing his hand back in preparation for another blow. Sam crouched in low and at the same moment as Blake stepped forward, he lunged upwards with all his strength driving his fist forward from his shoulder until it smacked with a thundering force into the big man’s face. Blake buckled at the knees and lurched back crumpling into a heap on the dust covered floor. The victory was short lived, however, as without realizing it, Sam had moved away from the protection of the wall. He paid the price for his lapse of attention as a blow from something hard struck him in the back of the head. A flare of pain swept across his senses followed by darkness so black that sight and sound had no footing.

PART SIX

Dr. Samuel Beckett returned to consciousness in slow dizzy stages. He could vaguely recall a world that spun giddily around him along with ticking noises and an undulating sound that seemed so familiar it ached.

Finally he awoke to reality to discover himself lying in a large cavern dimly illuminated by a shaft of sunlight spearing down from the roof. His head hurt, his eyes refused to focus and his stomach was announcing that everything was not as it should be. The pain in his head was so severe that the ticking noise, which he discovered was dripping water, forced an anguished moan from his lips.

“Sam, are you okay?” The familiar sound he had heard dimly was the voice of his best friend. Distress laced the words and gingerly turning over Sam found himself face to face with his Observer who was seated cross-legged next to him.

Blinking in the weak light Sam fixed his eyes on the deep brown ones of the Observer. His lips dry and his mouth feeling like the sandy floor that he lay upon, Sam responded with the first thought that came to mind. “I need a drink.” His tongue felt thick and it was an effort to push the words out.

“Thank God, Phil, I thought they’d killed you.” A new voice spoke out of the darkness thoroughly startling the leaper. Tentatively sitting up, cradling his head in both hands and trying to ignore the waves of nausea that swept over him, Sam spied a shadowy figure sitting just out of the stream of sunlight. Glancing at Al he lifted his eyebrows in a silent question.

“Meet Jeffery Taber Sam, the owner of the missing boat.” Al tipped his head towards the unnamed man.

“Jeff?” Sam asked in surprise as he edged closer pressing a hand to the back of his head as the movement caused pain to surge through him.

“Yeah, it’s me. Thought I was dead, didn’t you?” The man moved into the sunlight and Sam caught sight of a pale face covered in a dark beard. “Here try this.” He held out a hand with a metal dipper.

Sam inched forward taking the dipper and sipped at the cool water swallowing gratefully. “What’s going on here?’’ he asked.

Taber shifted position and suddenly Sam saw to his horror that a chain was attached to the man’s leg, the other end anchored somewhere in the darkness. “Cartwright’s bully man Blake is what happened. Did you know they shot my angler?”

Sam nodded. “Yes, his body was found two days ago.”

Taber shook his head in silent sorrow. “Poor guy.” He shifted position again wincing as the chain chafed the skin on his leg. “Should have done the same to me. Would have been better than being left to rot here.”

Sam took another sip of water. “How long have I been here?”

Al’s gravelly voice answered first. “About ten hours, Sam.”

“Don’t know, Phil. I can only tell night and day by the sun coming through the roof, I know they brought you down here while it was dark. Scared the hell out of me; thought they were coming to finish me off. It’s been daylight for a while now.”

“What happened, Jeff? Where’s the Ulysses?” Sam closed his eyes briefly as his head throbbed. Raising hesitant fingers, he gently touched the area where the pain was centered. His hair was matted with blood but it was dry, not fresh.

“She’s on the bottom.” Taber’s eyes darkened. “We’d had a good day's fishing, bait fish we were after, for the competition. Anyway, we were out beyond the reef when my angler spied two boats up past the headland. They were right close together you know like they’d met there on purpose. As we got a bit closer, I recognized the bigger one as the Elizabeth; only one launch around here that color. After a while the smaller one moved off but the Elizabeth stayed where she was. Then she turned and headed in our direction, now she’s got a bit o’ speed on her and it wasn’t long before she drew alongside us. That’s when I seen Blake standing at the wheel and he shouts at us to stop the engine.  I asked him what the devil he thought he was up to and then he pulled out a gun and aims it at me.” Taber rubbed his eyes, then looking up at Sam resumed his story. “I couldn’t do anything else but what he said, and as I did, Mr. Martin comes around the side wanting to know what’s going on. He took one look at Blake, gets this funny expression on his face, and says ‘Brewster!’ Next thing I know Blake shoots him and Mr. Martin went straight over the edge into the water.”

Sam flicked a look over at Al who was listening intently. “He knew Blake then?”

“Yeah, he sure seemed to. I dunno how or anything, all Blake does is tell this other fellow to take the wheel, then he comes over to the side and says to me if I don’t do what he says then I’ll be joining Mr. Martin. He tells me to come over to the Elizabeth and then he ties my hands behind my back and puts me down below in a cabin. I’m in there for about fifteen minutes and then I hear a strange sound, I look out the window and there’s the Ulysses going down bow first.” He swiped an angry arm across his eyes. “They’d blown out her hull!”

Al’s voice caught his attention. “Sam, Ziggy’s gone through records looking for some link with this Martin guy and the name Brewster. Apparently Martin, that’s not his real name by the way, it’s Thomas Adams; anyway, he was a detective attached to the Boston PD. He must’ve recognized Blake and been killed for it. By the way, she amended her theory on this leap. Seems like it’s not Milt who disappears now, it’s the Sheriff.”

A shiver rippled through him at the disclosure and Sam motioned his Observer closer. “Go find out what Cartwright’s up to Al,” he whispered. “There’s more to this than Blake being recognized by someone. Who is he to have been known to Bill Martin or whatever his name is?”

Al nodded his acceptance at Sam’s suggestion, he flicked out of existence and Sam returned his attention to the other man. “What happened then, Jeff?”

Taking a deep breath Taber regained his composure and fixed his eyes on the physicist. “It was dark when we returned to shore, as soon as the boat was moored I heard Cartwright’s voice. He was asking if everything went according to plan. Blake told him about shooting Mr. Martin and Cartwright asks him angrily if he’d shot me, too. Said something like he committed one murder why not two. Blake says that he might as well go back out then and finish the job off properly. Then Cartwright tells him to use his brains and think, if he went back out it’d be daylight by the time he got back. He said something about getting a job only half done; I don’t know exactly, they must have moved away cause I couldn’t hear any more. It wasn’t long though before Blake and the other one came and got me, then next thing they put me in this cave, they rolled a huge boulder up to the entrance and that’s the last I saw of anyone until last night. They lower food and water down through the roof.” He gestured to where the sun was shining through. His voice shook as he spoke. “I’m not sure how long I’ve been here, must be close to a week I think.”

Sam shuddered, not from the pain that still pounded through his head but in sympathy for the man in front of him who had been treated little better than an animal.

In the interval before Al returned Sam attempted to remove the chain from around Jeff Taber’s leg, his efforts met with no success only prompting a resigned sigh from the imprisoned man.

“It’s okay Phil, I’ve tried ever since they put me in here to get the damned thing off, even thought of using a rock to break it.” At the spark of interest in Sam’s eyes he continued. “It’s no good though. The only rocks in this place are what the walls are made out of.”

Sam climbed to his feet, going over to the huge boulder that blocked the entrance. There was no way one man could move it even if he had a lever of some sort. Even if his companion had not been effectively restrained, they would have been hard pressed to shift it between them. The sunlight coming through the roof of the cave was slanting at a greater angle telling Sam that it was late in the afternoon. He returned to where he had woken, glancing at the other man as he lowered himself carefully to the ground. “There has to be another way out of here,” he muttered.

“It’s possible,” Jeff replied shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know how far back this cavern goes, the light isn’t good enough to see much.”

Sam could not sit still and wait for something to happen. He decided to see if he could find anything in the depths of the cave, informing Jeff of his intention he moved carefully trailing one hand along the wall as a guide. The further he moved into the interior the darker it grew until the pitch-blackness surrounded him. The wall seemed smooth without any fissures that his questing fingers could discover. Not wanting to leave Jeff for any longer than necessary, he decided to turn back and wait for Al.

It was exactly that moment that the Observer chose to reappear, his sudden manifestation making Sam jump.

Al took one look at his friend. “Hey, it’s not my fault. How’m I s’posed to know you’re gonna go and walk about in the dark?”

Taking the opportunity to talk freely, Sam softened the glare he had directed at the hologram. “What did you find out?”

Pausing long enough to light a cigar, Al eyed the leaper. “Only that you better find a way outta here and soon. The three of ‘em were up at the house discussing what they were planning to do with you two.” He took a long pull on the stogie, frowning. “It wasn’t pleasant, Sam.”

“What do you think I’m trying to do?” Sam waved one arm at the darkness. “I’m not exactly looking for somewhere to have a picnic, you know.” He pressed a hand to his forehead and winced as his words reverberated through him. “Oh God, do I have a headache.”

“Take it easy pal,” Al said mildly. “Let’s see if Ziggy can give me a spatial readout on this place.” He poked at several keys in quick succession while turning in a circle. “All right she’s got something, twenty meters in this direction.” He motioned in Sam’s original direction.

“Lead on.” Sam gestured for the hologram to take the lead. In a couple of minutes they arrived at the place Ziggy had identified. Reaching out Sam could feel a faint breeze coming through a narrow tunnel in the wall. “Where does it come out?”

“The cave is at one end of the beach. This gap leads to the cliff a bit higher up.” Al studied the hand link.

Sam took enough time to return to Jeff and tell him what he’d found.

“Don’t forget me, will you?” A haunted look crossed Jeff’s face.

“I’ll bring back help as soon as possible,” Sam promised reaching to grasp the man’s shoulder in reassurance. Quickly he retraced his steps to the split in the cave wall. Although Al’s holographic projection was quite bright it had no effect on Sam’s surroundings, without any form of light Sam had to rely on his sense of touch as he examined the narrow cleft. “Are you sure I can get through there? It doesn’t feel very big.”

“Ziggy says there should be enough space for you to wiggle through, she’s done a comparison on the ratio between you and the space and there’s a couple of tight spots but you should make it.”

“I should make it.” Sam rubbed a hand across his face. He paused and looked at the Admiral. “Just a thought, do I suffer from claustrophobia?”

A grimace crossed Al’s face. “You don’t think I’m gonna tell you something like that while you’re standing in a cave, do ya?”

A stubborn expression narrowed the leaper’s eyes. “Al,” he said impatiently.

Sighing in exasperation, Al relented. “Oh all right, no you don’t.  Does that make any difference?”

Sam did not answer; instead he wiggled his way into the gap breathing in sharply as he moved. Al moved with him his eyes on the hand link. “Like to know what you’d have done if I said yes,” he muttered.

“The same thing I do on other occasions,” Sam shot back. “Ignore you.”

“That’s nice, after all I do to help you,” the hologram replied grumpily. A grunt from his friend made him look up. “What’s up, kid?”

“Nothing...it’s just a bit...tight.” Sam’s breathing was heavy as he struggled through the confined passageway.

“You got about another twelve meters and it’ll widen out,” Al informed him.

“Good...I don’t know if I can take...much more of this.” The exertion he was expending was making his head pound with renewed vigor.

“Keep going, pal.” Al kept up a running dialogue. “Nine meters, hey I didn’t tell you, I found out what it is that Cartwright’s involved in.”

“What?” Sam gasped.

“Diamond smuggling, eight...no seven meters. Seems like he’s got a whole operation going here, using his occupation as a businessman to provide cover.”

“Well, he did say he dealt with...valuable commodities,” Sam recalled.

“Yeah, he did, didn’t he? Five meters.” Al lifted his head as the leaper let loose with some choice language. “You okay, Sam?”

“Yeah...there’s a tight...Ow...damn it.” There was a breathless quality to the leapers voice as he spoke again. “It’s a good thing...I'm not any bigger...are you sure...this leads...somewhere?”

“Ziggy says it does,” Al replied.

“Oh great...I’m stuck inside...ugh...a cave...on the...say so of...a computer...that... won’t accept...that it could...ouch...be wrong.”

“You should be right where this widens out Sam.” 

“If I could see anything...I’d let you know.”

Al pressed the sequence of keys that centered him in a different position. “I’m up ahead of you pal, there’s a rock jutting out from the wall, careful you don’t...”

A series of muffled curses drowned out the hologram’s final words.

“...hit your head,” Al finished dryly. He watched as Sam clambered through from the narrow shaft and collapsed in a heap on the sandy floor of the cave. “You all right?”

“Remind me to never...let you talk me into doing anything...like that...ever again.” He gasped in a winded voice before pressing both hands to his head. He winced at the contact and screwed his eyes shut against the insistent throbbing. “You know that headache I had?” Al grunted an acknowledgement. “Well just multiply it by a factor of ten.” Sam finished wearily.

“You’re gonna have a decent sized bruise to go with it.” Al peered closely at his friend. He shrugged his shoulders at the fierce look the leaper shot at him. “Hey, I tried to warn you.”

Exhaustion nearly overwhelming him, Sam struggled shakily to his feet. “Which way now?”

Al adjusted his grip on the hand link. “Follow this chamber and it’ll take you through to the opening. I’ll go have a look see at the outside.” His voice dropped to a lower tone. “You’re gonna have to get a move on, kid, those creeps were making noises about something happening as soon as it got dark...and I don’t think they were talking about stargazing.”

Sam nodded and began making his way forward, at first the roof of the chamber was higher than his head but the further he walked the lower it became until finally he had to traverse the rest of the way on his hands and knees. The sun had begun to set by the time he reached the opening and Al.

“Careful pal, that ledge is pretty narrow.” The hologram cautioned as Sam pulled himself outside the cave and onto the rocky outcrop. Straightening up he gulped in a deep breath as the distance between where he stood and the beach below became glaringly apparent and he quickly shut his eyes and flattened himself back against the cliff face. “Keep your eyes on me Sam, you won’t fall.” Al’s voice sounded somewhere to his left. Sam swiveled his head around and reluctantly opening his eyes fixed his gaze upon his friend. Al took two steps backwards motioning with his free hand. “C’mon, follow me.”

Sam brought his breathing under control and shuffled slowly towards the Observer.

PART SEVEN

“That’s it, keep going, few more feet, c’mon kid what are you waitin’ for, an invitation from the President?” Al kept the commentary going until Sam reached the beach. “There you go, see? No problem.”

“Yeah, for you.” Sam argued as he looked back up at the path he had just taken and shook his head. “Be different if you were actually here, I’ll bet.”

“That little climb?” Al raised his eyebrows. “Nothin’ to it, Sam. If you want heights, you want to try washing windows on a forty story building…” He paused to tap the ash off the end of his cigar and for emphasis. “…from the outside.”

Sam shuddered at the mere thought of being that high off the ground. “Don’t Al, please.”

Al chomped on the end of his cigar and made a hurry-up motion with his hand at Sam. “Will you talk and walk at the same time? Cartwright’s buddies will be here before you know it.”

“I’ve got to get to a telephone.” Sam started up the beach.

“There’s a house on the other side of that hill.” Al pointed with the hand link. “What’s your plan?”

“Get Jeff out of that cave and to safety, then confront Cartwright.” The leaper spared a quick backward glance at the boulder covering the entrance to the missing man’s prison. Sam knew that even though the mystery of the lost launch and her Captain had been solved, the leap was not yet over. Now the real work lay ahead of him, to bring the perpetrators of this crime to justice.  He continued at a fast pace up the beach. “Al, can you go see what Cartwright and friends are up to?”

“Sure, back in a few.” Tapping a couple of buttons on the hand link, the hologram winked out. A brief moment later, he was back. “So far so good, there’s no sign of ‘em getting ready to do anything yet.”

Sam looked sideways at the hologram. “You honestly washed windows for a living?” Al was forever coming up with snippets of information about his past life; Sam did not think that there was a single occupation that the Observer had not held or at the very least knew something about.

“Yeah, I was about sixteen I think, anything to get me out of that orphanage. Was a good job too; pity I didn’t last in it very long though. Got fired.”

“What for?” Sam’s curiosity was piqued.

“I…ah…took too long on one particular job.” Al rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“Why do I get the feeling there was more to it than you are letting on.” Sam’s breath was coming faster as they made their way to the road above the beach.

“Hey, it’s not my fault that the woman who lived there chose to walk around with hardly any clothes on.” Al shrugged and feigned an innocent look.

Sam laughed at Al’s lighthearted banter and felt some of the weight he had carried ever since regaining consciousness in the cave lift off his shoulders.

“Hey, I was sixteen, all teenage angst and hormones. Can you blame me?”

“You haven’t changed much in the last forty or so years, then, have you?” Sam shot back.

Al gave his friend a look that spoke volumes, and then brought the hand link up. “See that path there? It’ll take you to the house. Woman by the name of Celia Douglas lives there.” He gave Sam’s appearance a cursory glance. The clothes the leaper wore were stained with dirt, as was his face, which also bore several scrape marks and bruises. Blood had seeped through his hair and run onto his shirt collar. “You’re not exactly a pin up for the Sheriff's Department but at least you’ve got an honest face.”

Sam grimaced at the remark and began to run down the path Al had pointed out. A house came into view within a few minutes and thankfully, there was a light shining in a window. He raised his fist and banged loudly on the door just as Al popped in beside him. The urgency that spurred him on felt almost palpable and he was just about to knock on the door again when it was opened slightly and a nervous looking woman peered out.

“Who is it? What do you want?”

“Miss Douglas, it’s Sheriff Lund. Please, I have to use your telephone.”

Recognition dawned in the woman’s eyes and she held the door wider. “Sheriff, goodness what are you doing out here?”

“Your telephone please, Miss Douglas, I’ll explain in a moment.”

“Yes, of course.” She gestured for him to enter and pointed out the phone on a side table.

Al relayed the number and Sam rang it quickly, he stood with the receiver pressed to his ear and waited for it to be answered. “What if he’s not there?” he asked the hologram.

Al nodded and poked at the hand link. “He’s there Sam,” he assured him.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the call was answered. “Sheriff’s office, Deputy Josephs.”

“Milt, it’s me, listen I’ve found Jeff Taber.”

“Phil?” The unusual use of the Sheriff’s first name was a measure of the surprise the deputy felt. “Where are you? What’s going on?”

“I don’t have time to talk right now. I need you to meet me at Celia Douglas’ house on the cliff road. Bring a couple of strong men with you and the doctor. And a pair of bolt cutters,” he added.

The seriousness in Sam’s voice transferred through to Milt and with a quick, “I’ll be there in ten minutes,” he rang off.

Sam placed the receiver back into its cradle and turned to Al. “Ten minutes,” he said tonelessly, pressing his fingertips to his forehead and screwing his eyes shut.

“Sam, you okay kid?” Al enquired in concern.

“Yeah, I just need to sit down for a moment,” the leaper replied shakily

Celia Douglas moved forward swiftly and took hold of Sam’s arm as he reeled suddenly. “Let me help you, Sheriff.” She guided him to a chair clucking her tongue in misgiving over the bruises on his face. “I’ll get you a cloth to clean up with,” she murmured before leaving his side.

“Sam, talk to me pal.” Al moved around so Sam could see him.

“I’m alright Al, just went a bit dizzy that’s all.”

“More than a bit dizzy I think, under that dirt you’re as white as a sheet. Probably got a concussion, you know,” the hologram commented.

Sam gazed speculatively at his Observer. “More than probably, I’m sure of it.”

Celia returned with a washcloth and a glass of water. “I thought you looked as if you could do with a drink.”

Sam drained the glass swiftly and began to climb to his feet. “Miss Douglas, thank you for your help. Please be assured I will explain everything later, right now I have to get back to help someone.”

“You shouldn’t be going anywhere Sheriff, you’re hurt. Let me help.”

Let me help. Three words that meant so much. Sam thought as he wavered with indecision.

“Sam, give her five minutes, you aren’t going to be of any use to anyone if you collapse. Besides, in my experience it never does any good to turn down a ministering angel, especially one as good looking as she is.”

‘Figures,’ Sam thought to himself as he relented and sat back down. ‘Trust Al to notice what a woman looks like.’  It had never occurred to him to pay attention to her looks; he was too caught up in trying to save Jeff.

Celia smiled as she attended to the numerous cuts and grazes on his face. Sam closed his eyes and relaxed, savoring the feel of the warm washcloth as she wiped away the dirt and blood.

“Don’t get too comfortable, pal,” Al’s voice startled him as it intruded upon his musings. He opened his eyes just as Celia touched a particularly tender spot on his cheek and he winced.

She murmured an apology and with gentle fingers brushed his hair back off his forehead. Sam glanced at her face taking in the calm blue eyes and the small smile that hovered about her lips. He allowed himself to take pleasure in the attention for as long as it lasted.

“Much as I know this is an ordeal Sam and you can’t wait to pull yourself away, I gotta tell you Milt is only a couple of minutes from here,” a hint of amusement colored Al’s words.

“Miss Douglas,” Sam began.

“Please Sheriff, call me Celia.” She placed her fingers under his chin and lifted it slightly to the light.

Sam took her hand, closing his fingers lightly over hers. “Celia, as much as I appreciate your thoughtfulness, I must be going.” He climbed to his feet and made his way to the front door. “I won’t forget your kindness,” he said as he turned to retrace his steps back to the road.

PART EIGHT

Al centered himself next to Sam and spared a quick glance back at the woman who stood in the doorway. The look on her face told him all he needed to know. “Hey, Sam, someone’s got the hots for the Sheriff!”

The leaper frowned. “Come off it Al, she was just being a Good Samaritan.”

“Maybe, but I know that look,” he gestured back at Celia silhouetted in the doorway. “That is not the expression of someone just doing a good turn, that’s a look of someone who’s interested.”

Their conversation was cut short as Sam crested the top of the path and saw a car approaching.

“Perfect timing, even if I do say so myself,” Al stated proudly as the vehicle drew to a halt next to the physicist and Milt scrambled out followed by another two men.

“Phil, what’s going on? Damn you’re a mess! Doc’s on his way,” the deputy’s words came thick and fast.

“I’ll tell you on the way.” Sam filled his partner in while they hurried through the sand towards the cave.

“You know the Mayor’s got your hide in his sights. What with you vanishing like you did and then Eddie discovering the safe at the club had been emptied sometime last night, we didn’t know what to think.”  Milt peered through the gathering gloom at the cliff face as they approached. “I never knew there was a cave here.”

“Obviously someone did.” Sam said as they arrived at the boulder that obstructed the entrance. “We need a lever and a fulcrum to shift this rock.”

“A what?” the perplexed Deputy asked as he stared at his boss.

“A fulcrum, something to use for leverage.” Sam held up both hands. “A rock about this big.” The Imaging Chamber door sounded to his right and Sam edged away from the others to speak to the hologram. “Where did you go?” he whispered.

“Checking up on Cartwright and Co,” Al answered flicking ash off his cigar. “You’re gonna hafta get a wiggle on Sam, they’re on their way.”

An excited voice sounded from a few feet away. “Found something!” One of the men Milt had brought along called out.

It took a minute to get everything into position and then an attempt was made to shift the boulder. Twice the boulder lifted and then rolled back into the depression it had created. The third time it shifted slightly creating enough space for the men to squeeze past. Stacking several smaller rocks against the boulder to stop it from rolling back again, Sam entered the dark cave. “Jeff?” he called softly.

“Phil? Is that you?” an anxious voice answered him.

A beam of light speared through the darkness, illuminating the interior and the crouched figure of Jeffrey Taber. The bolt cutters were put to use and it was only a matter of moments before the missing angler was freed.

“Sam, the nozzle’s are about five minutes away,” Al’s voice sounded for the leaper’s ears alone.

The two men who had accompanied Milt were instructed to help Jeff back to the police sedan and wait for the doctor. He pulled the deputy aside to explain his plan. “If they come down here and see the rock moved, they’ll know instantly that something’s not right, we roll it back into place and with any luck we might be able to trap them inside.”

Milt grinned. “I like it, give ‘em a taste of their own medicine.”

The two men worked rapidly and soon had the rock back in place, restoring the pole and small rock back to where they had been found; they waited out of sight for their quarry.

“Here they come,” Al announced.

Voices sounded from around the curve of the rocky cliff. The men were still too far away for Sam to make out what they were saying, however going on the tone of one of the voices, someone was not happy.

“…said anything about being involved in murder.” Sam identified the voice as belonging to the man named Evans as they both stopped outside the cave.

“You just shut your mouth and do as you’re told,” Blake’s voice spoke up. “You’re in this up to your neck now, whether you like it or not.”

“Yeah, well I don’t like it.” Evans was sullen. “What are you planning on doin’ with ‘em anyway? Or is that somethin’ else you weren’t gonna tell me?”

“We’re all goin’ for a little cruise,” Blake sounded pleased with himself. “But only two of us is comin’ back.”

Horrified at what he had overheard, Sam glanced at Milt and Al.

“Told ya it wasn’t pleasant,” the hologram commented.

Sam made an unobtrusive shushing motion with his hand as he continued to listen.

“Are you sure that’s goin’ to work this time? Remember what happened with the other guy.”

Blake’s voice was tinged with disapproval. “How was I supposed to know that was gonna happen? Anyway, where these two are goin’ they ain’t ever gonna be seen again by anyone, ‘cept maybe the sharks. We go out past the reef and those two are fish food.” He paused before continuing, “Ain’t no way anyone’s gonna connect us with this.”

“You know, I got nothin’ against the Sheriff,” Evans said. “He ain’t never done me no harm.” There was heavy breathing for a moment as the men struggled with the obstacle blocking the cave. “D’ya reckon he ever woulda connected us with the missing boat?”

“You talk too much,” grunted Blake. “What’sit matter what I think? Mr. Cartwright says we do this, then we do this.”

There was a final heave from both men, the boulder was shifted away and they entered the cave.

Sam gestured at Al to follow the men, and then on the count of five, he and Milt went to work on the boulder.

A puzzled exclamation was heard from inside the cave and Al reappeared. “They think that you’re hidin’ and they’re searching further back,” he announced.

Both Sam and Milt applied all their strength into moving the large rock, each one conscious of the time constraints while the hologram stood watch just inside the opening.

“Uh oh, they’re on their way back Sam, you got about 20 seconds tops.”

The boulder rocked slightly just as there was a sudden shout from the men inside. “Hey…what the…” Finally, with an almost inaudible susurration of sand against stone, the rock rolled back into its resting place effectively blocking off the angry men’s words.

“Damn, I can do without having to do this again,” Milt gasped, leaning against the wall, his chest heaving from exertion.

Sam wiped his hand across his forehead and nodded in agreement. “Yeah, me too.”

Al appeared, walking nonchalantly through the solid stone, casually tapping the ash off his cigar, he grinned widely. “You got two very unhappy campers in there, kid, they’ve already started blaming each other.”

The two exhausted men climbed wearily to the summit of the hill where flashlights could be seen moving around the parked cars. As their shoes crunched on the gravel, one of the figures swung their flashlight around and the beam hit Sam straight in the face.

Reflexively the leaper brought an arm up to shade his eyes and called out. “Hey, it’s us.”

The doctor lowered his flashlight but not before he had taken a good look at Sam. “What in tarnation have you been doing to yourself, Phil?” he exclaimed as he cast a critical eye over the injuries on Sam’s face. “Do you boys think you’re