One Cruel Day 

Author: Romantique
 
Email: dolph1n@sbcglobal.net
 
Rating: PG-14 for adult situations.

Classification: Vignette

Distribution: Archive anywhere, but e-mail me

Summary: This time, Nick is stalked, but by who? This fanfic
contains all the requirements of the Full Circle Challenge.
Date Posted: September 9, 2003

Acknowledgement: Many thanks to Suz for the beta read and most of
all, for making Donora come to life!



 
--+--
 
 

*To be left behind, deserted, dumped like last week's garbage . . .
I'll never understand how anyone could ever do that to another human
being.*

The young woman peruses the makeshift shrine in her bedroom, a
menagerie of masculine trinkets. Each item is meticulously
displayed: a fountain pen, gasoline credit card, Palm Pilot, a
nameplate, a driver's license. In her hand, she caresses her latest
and most personal acquisition to date, a man's wristwatch. As she
searches for its perfect place among her trophies, she rubs her thumb
back and forth over an inscription on the back of the watch. The
Rolex simply reads, "Burton With Love Anne."

*I would never desert you.* Clutching the watch close to her breast,
she continues with her thoughts. You and I will always be together.


Fallin and Fallin
Monday
9:00 a.m.

From his corner office, Burton Fallin stands at the window, deep in
thought. He loves to watch the activity of Pittsburgh's streets from
this vantage point. Somehow, standing above it all allows him
greater perspective. He has been working on a difficult merger and
is not certain how to best approach the other side in negotiations.
Slipping his hands in his trouser pockets, he lets out a pent up sigh
of frustration. He had better think of a solution soon, as a meeting
is scheduled in less than two hours.

His thoughts are interrupted by a rap at the door.

"Dad, can I see you for a minute?" Nicholas Fallin tentatively pokes
his head through the door.

"Nicholas," Burton happily acknowledges his son's presence. "Am I
glad to see you! I'm in a real bind and would love to bounce
something off you."

"Uh, sure," Nick answers and enters the room, closing the door behind
him. His reason for needing to speak with his father would have to
take a backseat.

"Have a seat," Burton makes a gesture with his hands and follows his
own advice by sitting down behind his desk. "I've been working on
the Sanderson International merger," he begins.

Nick nods.

"Well, I need to get the price down to make it happen. But for the
life of me, I can't figure out what more Sanderson Incorporated has
left that Mr. Jenkins would possibly want, at least not without
gutting the corporation."

With elbows equally perched on his chair's armrests, Nick
thoughtfully brings his fingertips to meet to his closed lips. It
helps him to think. After a moment, he utters, "How about the rights
to Sanderson's satellite software? You could negotiate with future
revenues."

Burton's eyes flash as a smile comes over his face. "That's it!
Son, you are so good at this kind of thing." Burton Fallin's smile
of relief turns into a fatherly look of pride for his son's
brilliance.

Nick downplays his contribution. "You would have thought of it
sooner or later."

"That's just it," Burton is still smiling. "I'm afraid it would have
been much later. You are so quick, much quicker than I ever was."

A slight smile comes to Nick's tightened lips. It is difficult for
him to accept praise from his father, almost as difficult as is to
accept his father's criticism.

Burton suddenly realizes his son asked to see him. "Now, why did you
want to see me?"

Shifting gears, Nick says, "I, uh, I think we need to look at the
security in this building. I've had some things missing."

"What kind of things?" Burton leans back in his chair.

"Just odds and ends, until now," he hedges a bit before admitting to
something he hates to tell his father. "The watch you gave me from
Mom is gone."

A look of hurt replaces the smile on Burton's face, but the hurt is
not for him. It is for Nick. He knows how much that watch meant to
his son. "Are you sure you it was taken from here? I mean, no
offense, but you work with some pretty desperate clients over at LSP."

"I thought about that, too," Nick nods. "But I'm certain the watch
was here. Sometimes, I take if off when I'm working on the
computer. It gets in the way. I always place it in the top, left-
hand drawer of my desk. It was in the drawer when I left last
night. I'm certain of it."

Burton thoughtfully runs his fingers through his thinning hair. "You
will need to make a report with Building Security. They can find out
who was on duty last night."

Nick nods. His father is right. There's not much he can do about
this. He fears he'll never see the watch again.

"I'm sorry about the watch," Burton offers his son, as he stands to
leave.

Nick's mournful eyes meet his fathers. "Yeah. Me, too."


Fallin and Fallin
Conference Room
Wednesday
9:30 p.m.

Burton's negotiation meeting had gone very well, thanks to Nick's
suggestion. The senior Fallin then called "all hands on deck" to
crank out the merger agreement in time for the stockholder meeting at
the end of the week. Nick has been working on it around the clock
for almost 48 hours.

Holed up in the conference room, his nearly day old bearded stubble
is noticeable as he rubs his face in an effort to stay awake. All
he's had to eat today is a bagel and about six cups of coffee and
now, he's crashing from the caffeine when Jake enters the room.

"Are you okay?" Nick's partner asks.

Jake is concerned about his friend. Jake is tired, too. But he's
only been at this for going on 13 hours. Nick, on the other hand,
hasn't had more than about 5 hours sleep in the past two days.

Nick's heavy eyes meet Jakes. "I either need a couple of hours of
sleep or couple of shots of espresso. I'm fading fast."

"How about you do both?" Jake suggests. "I'll take over here, and
you can go crash in your office. I promise to wake you whenever you
want. And I'll even promise to have a double shot latte waiting for
when you wake up."

"I'm persuaded," Nick jumps at the offer. "Wake me up in three
hours." He gives an appreciative wave to his partner, and he begins
the long trek down the hallway to his office.

Once he finally reaches his destination, he removes his tie and
throws in onto his desk. Next, he dims the lights and heads for the
sofa where he toes off his shoes, unbuttons his dress shirt, and lies
his exhausted body down. He molds himself into the leather cushions
and is sound asleep in less than a minute.


Three hours later

Gina Marelli, a new law associate, quietly opens the door to Nick's
office. Once inside the dimly lit room, she hears soft snoring
coming from the sofa. Nick is rolled over on his side, facing the
back of the sofa. The associate is carrying a large, steaming latte.

"Mr. Fallin?" she announces as she carefully approaches the sleeping
man.

Standing over him, she can't help but notice how peaceful he
looks . . . like a sleeping little boy. She hates to wake him, but
wake him she must.

"Mr. Fallin!" she repeats herself, louder this time.

"Wha . . .," he stirs. He slowly looks up, disoriented from his very
deep sleep.

"You asked to be awakened in three hours," Gina explains.

Gina was also asked to pull an all-nighter, if necessary, to get this
merger agreement completed. This was only her second week at the
firm, and she is happy to do so.

"Uh, yes," Nick rolls over to a sitting position on the sofa.

"I brought you a latte with a double shot, just as you requested,"
she adds, holding the steaming cup near his grasp.

"Thank you," Nick takes the java and begins to administer the
caffeine in quick sips. "Would you tell Jake I'll be there in just a
few minutes?"

"You bet," Gina responds and leaves Nick alone with his latte.

Nick hangs his weary head and runs his fingers through his hair.
After several more sips, he makes his way down the hall to the Men's
room. First, he relieves himself, and then, he washes his hands and
splashes cold, cold water all over his face.

*There. I almost feel human.*

He then makes his way to the conference room. This time, it is Jake
who is looking ragged.

"Hey, you woke up," Jake acknowledges Nick's presence. "How are you
feeling?"

"Better than you look," Nick remarks. "How is the agreement coming?"

"I think we're about done," Jake smiles. "I'd like you to review
what I've done, but I'd say we're 99% there."

"Then, why don't you go home," Nick suggests. "I'll finish up here."

"Are you sure?" Jake asks.

"I have it covered," Nick assures him. "Thanks for all your hard
work."

"No problem," Jake is exhausted himself. "I guess I'll see you
tomorrow." And he takes Nick up on his offer before Nick changes his
mind.

Once alone, Nick takes a seat at the table and begins to read the
Amendments Jake drafted. The five page attachment has only one
error. He hits the com line button on the phone.

"Yes?" a feminine voice answers.

"Uh, I have a correction on this amendment. And then, I think we can
call we can put this agreement to bed."

"That's great! I'll be right in," the voice remarks.

In just a moment, a young clerical enters the room. Nick points out
the error and explains it is a calculation error that is not her
fault.

"This will only take a minute to correct," the young brunette assures
Nick, and she takes the page and leaves the room.

She returns a few minutes later. "Here you go, Mr. Fallin."

Nick gives the page a final look before giving a nod of
approval. "Okay. We'll need 10 copies of the agreement and then, we
can go home."

About five minutes later, the young woman returns to the conference
room carrying stacks of the bound agreements, but her eyes are red,
and she sniffles. It is obvious she has been crying.

"What's wrong?" Nick asks.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she apologizes. "This is so unprofessional, but my
boyfriend and I just had an argument. I think we're finished." She
pauses and then, continues. "It's just that . . . I never saw it
coming."

Nick takes the agreements from the hands of the sobbing woman and
places them on the table. "What's your name?" he asks.

"Sarah, Sarah Williams," the lady sniffles again, as the tears
continue to flow. "I work for Clay Simms."

Nick takes a handkerchief from his back pants pocket and offers it to
her. She takes it and dabs her eyes.

"I'm so sorry," she apologizes again, and begins to sob harder.

"Have a seat, Sarah," Nick is really not in the mood for this.

The young woman is quite attractive. She is a raven-haired girl with
blue eyes which are now very red from crying. Any other time, he
might want to get to know her a little better. But now, all he wants
to do is go home and get some sleep. As a managing partner; however,
he can't allow her to leave in the wee hours of morning in this state.

"Look, I'm not very good at this," Nick tries to explain. "You are
obviously upset. Are you okay to go home?"

"Uh . . . yeah," Sarah is now embarrassed.

"I mean, are you driving home?" he persists. "Are you okay to drive?"

"My boyfriend was supposed to pick me up, but that's not going to
happen now," she sniffles again. "I can take a cab."

"Yes, call a cab," he concurs. "And I'll wait with you until it
arrives."

"Thank you, Mr. Fallin," the woman stands and hands him back his
handkerchief.

"No, you keep it," Nick insists.

Sarah gives him a weak smile.

"Go ahead and call for a cab. I'll meet you near the elevators," he
instructs her. So tired he can hardly think, he makes his way back
to his office to collect his things. He then goes to the elevator to
wait for the young woman. He does feel rather sorry for her, as he
certainly knows what it feels like to be blindsided in a
relationship. He thought things were going so well when Lulu
suddenly took her job in San Francisco. He never saw it coming.

On the way to the elevator, Nick finds Sarah in his father's office,
placing the bound copies of the merger agreement on Burton's desk.

"Are we the last ones here?" he asks.

Sarah nods her head. They then exit their law suite where Nick locks
the main doors and waits in the main lobby with Sarah until her cab
arrives. Now, he can finally make the long ride home.


~~~~~~

Some time later

Once again, she stands before her shrine to offer her newest find.
She is holding Nick's silk necktie, the one he had left on his desk.

*You are such a lonely man. It hurts me to see you so alone. It
hurts me to know that your heart was recently broken by someone you
loved, someone who left you. I would never leave you. And she rolls
up the necktie and places it with his other belongings.*


 
Fallin & Fallin
Thursday
10:30 a.m.

This day is a cruel one. Nick had to appear in court before Judge
Damsen for a shelter hearing at 8:00 a.m. where he was reprimanded
for nodding off at the counsel table. Then, he ran into a traffic
jam caused by road construction. Upon returning to the firm to check
on the Sanderson merger, he noticed his front tire was flat from a
nail puncture. From the steamy parking garage, he called road
service only to be informed his rim was bent and a new rim would have
to be ordered. Plus, he had no spare. Given several undesirable
options, he decided to have his car towed to the dealership. *And
the day is still young!*

The few hours of slumber he managed did not make a dent in his three
day sleep deficit. He looks haggard with darkened circles under his
eyes. The typically energetic Nick Fallin is utterly spent. *Just
get me through this God-forsaken day.*

He checks with Gretchen to find his father is not available so he
heads toward his office. On the way, he notices the young clerical
from last night standing near his doorway. "How's it going?" he asks
and nods.

Sarah appears to have held up well after her late night at work,
followed by a relationship breakup chaser. A pang of jealousy goes
through him as he chalks up her rested good looks to her youth.

"I'm hanging in there," she answers through a forced smile.

Nick walks past her and continues into his office, only to find Sarah
has followed him through the door.

"I've decided I am through with my boyfriend. Yep, it's time for me
to move on," she announces and swings her arms at her side.

*I don't want to know any of this.* "It was just a courtesy. You
know that, don't you?" Nick glares at the young woman. He places
his briefcase on top of his desk.

"What's a courtesy?" Sarah asks, clearly not understanding to what
Nick is referring.

Without missing a beat, the spent attorney continues, "When I asked
you `How's it going,' it was merely a courtesy . . . a greeting. I
don't really want to know what's going on in your life," he explains
with little emotion.

A look of hurt on Sarah's face caused by the slap of Nick's candor is
unmistakable. "Jeez, I'm sorry," she retorts. Her face turns
various shades of red and purple. She is both embarrassed and
insulted.

"Look," Nick is bothered by the whole scene and interjects, "I really
don't mean to be rude, but I told you last night that I'm not good at
this kind of thing. If you need to talk to someone . . . about
personal problems . . . you should go to Clay or to Gretchen."

"I said I was sorry," the young woman's face contorts. Tears stream
down her cheeks, and she flees from his office.

Nick shakes his head, letting out a sigh of frustration. He doesn't
have time to console the clerical help. Getting back to business, he
closes the door and then picks up the phone on his desk.

"Jake, I'm checking in about the merger. What is the status?" He
bites his bottom lip in anticipation.

"Burton was so pleased with our work on the merger agreement that he
moved the Board of Director's meeting up to today. He's supposed to
meet with the key players at 1:00 p.m. over at Sanderson's to obtain
the signatures and present them to the Board. Your dad said he has
it all under control. It's a done deal, my man," Jake informs his
colleague. "I don't know about you, but I'm taking off early today
to go home and straight to bed."

"Wish I could do the same, but I'm due back at LSP after lunch," Nick
laments. He is so tired. "I'll catch up with you tomorrow."


Undisclosed location
Noon

One by one, she lights a row of votive candles and a single stick of
incense. The scent of burning patchouli quickly takes over the small
bedroom.

*Whether you know it or not, I am the one for you. Soon, you will
know it.

You have allowed others to damage you so. You poor man, I promise
you this . . . my love will heal you. Love heals all, Nick. My love
for you heals me each and every day.

I can't wait to touch you . . . hold you . . . make love to you. It
will be soon, my love. Soon. Soon, we can be together.*


LSP Offices
1:30 p.m.

Seated in his broom closet office, Nick Fallin gathers all his
strength to keep in patience in check. "Sir, I understand you
believe you have a viable claim to sue your neighbor . . . because
her cats dug up your vegetable garden," Nick continues with a
burdened sigh. "However, I have reviewed the leash laws in your
city, and they do not pertain to cats." *God, why me?*

"But the McHenry's cats ate fifty percent of my groceries!" the
elderly gentleman persists. "I'm on a fixed income, and I've been
damaged. I can the vegetables out of the garden to last me all year
long. I demand to sue!"

*This is the urgent case Alvin said I had to take this afternoon?*
Nick is fifty miles past the point of exhaustion. In fact, he is
barely able to function. And here before him, he has an elderly
client of somewhat diminished capacity with a loser of a case who
insists on wasting his precious time and energy.

Nick's cell phone rings. He welcomes the interruption. "Excuse me.
I have to take this call," he explains to the spectacled old man.

"Hello," he answers. His cell phone display reads: private number.

"Nick? This is Gina Marelli from the office. I woke you up last
night, although you may not remember."

From the background noise, Nick surmises she is in traffic. "Yes,
Gina. What can I do for you?"

"Your father asked me to call you. The meeting on the Sanderson
merger has gone sour. He needs you to meet him there right away,"
she explains.

"I don't have my car," Nick utters under his breath. *How much worse
can this day possibly become?*

"You don't have your car?" Gina repeats what she thinks she heard.

"Uh, that's right. I'm just thinking out loud," he mumbles. His
brain is so tired, he cannot think. "My car is in the shop."

"Where are you? I could pick you up and take you to Sanderson's,"
the young law associate offers.

"Do you know where Law Services of Pittsburgh is located?" he asks.

"Yes," she quickly answers. "I'm about five minutes from there."

"That's great! I'm heading out of the building now and will meet you
right outside," he decides. "Do you remember what I look like?"

"Mr. Fallin, how could I ever forget?" she coolly responds. "I'll
see you in a few minutes. Goodbye."

After disconnecting his phone, Nick stands to gather his files and
looks at the old man seated in front of his desk. "Mr. Riley, I have
to go."

"You have to go? I had an appointment with you," the man complains.

"I told you . . . you don't have a case. I really have to go. It's
an emergency." He shuffles his papers into a neat stack and shoves
them into his briefcase.

"Oh, yeah? It's an emergency when you don't have any food to eat,
too," Mr. Riley points his finger at the young attorney and peers at
him over his glasses. "Some day, you'll be old. Just wait, Mr.
Failing. No one will help you either!"

Grabbing the handle of his briefcase, Nick is left with no choice but
to blow the old man off. "You don't have a case. It's that simple.
And it's Fallin, Mr. Fallin. Goodbye, Mr. Riley."

With that, Nick makes a quick dash into a waiting elevator, out into
this cruel day.
 
Outside LSP Offices
Time 2:00 p.m.

As planned, Nick waits near the curb just outside of the LSP, pacing
in the mid-August heat when Gina Marelli pulls up in a RAV-4 SUV.
The passenger window of her car comes down as she signals for Nick to
get in the car.

"Thanks for picking me up," Nick acknowledges and belts himself
in. "This saves me a lot of time."

Reaching down into the drink carrier in between them, Gina hands Nick
a steaming, venti latte. "I thought maybe you could use one of these
before walking into who-knows-what at Sanderson's."

A slight smile comes to the very corners of Nick's mouth, as he
gladly accepts the steaming cup. "Thank you, again. I really
appreciate this."

As soon as the traffic light changes to green, the two take off to
rescue the merger deal. Nick sips the hot liquid, grateful for the
caffeine. He needs to find his second wind before walking into this
meeting.

"How long have you worked for your father, Mr. Fallin?" Gina tries to
make conversation.

"Which time?" Nick answers her question with another question. After
receiving a puzzled look from his chauffer, he elaborates, "I worked
for the firm when it was my father's firm, but then I left for
awhile. We came together to form Fallin & Fallin a little more than
a year ago."

Glancing ahead on the road, Nick notices they are headed the wrong
way. Sanderson's headquarters are located south, not north. "Gina,
I think we took a wrong turn," he suddenly changes the subject. "We
need to be heading south."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Fallin," she says, appearing to be a little
flustered. She slows the car to turn around.

"Anyone who saves me time with a latte in hand may call me Nick," he
gives her a little smile.

Gina continues to try for more conversation, while Nick works on his
latte and responds to Gina's questions by using as few words as
possible. Gina is an attractive redhead and seems to be a great
person, but he's distracted by the upcoming crisis. He wishes his
father could have been more explicit in what had gone wrong in the
negotiations.

Suddenly, a peculiar feeling comes over him. *Whoa, I've had too
much caffeine today.* Waves of disorientation crash on top of him,
over and over again. He can hear Gina talking to him, but it is
almost as if he is outside himself. He looks at her. She is staring
straight ahead, paying attention to traffic and talking. He watches
her mouth move but cannot understand a word she's saying. He looks
out the windows of the car. Everything seems to be moving in slow
motion, and the cars on the road appear to be small, almost like the
Match Box cars he played with as a child. If he didn't know better,
he would swear he was stoned.

Unable to move, unable to speak, he sits in the moving car in an
altered state of consciousness until the almost empty cup slips
through his very relaxed fingers. The sound of it falling on the
floorboard causes Gina to look over at him.

"Nick? Are you okay?" she asks.

He slowly turns his head toward her and just stares through glassy
eyes.

"Just sit back, Nick. Don't worry about a thing. We'll be there
before you know it." She reaches over and pats him reassuringly on
the thigh.

The funny thing is Nick isn't worried. He doesn't know where he is,
he doesn't even know who he is. He is very relaxed, flying very high.

About an hour passes, though Nick has no concept of time and space.
Gina pulls the SUV onto a gravel road toward her final destination,
an abandoned warehouse in Donora. Once she places the car in park,
she opens her door to the sound of the automatic warning
system's "ding, ding, ding." She pulls the key out of the ignition
and walks around to the other side where she opens the passenger
door. Slowly, a docile and disoriented Nick turns toward her while
she unlatches his seat belt.

"We're here, Nick," she announces. "Let me help you." She proceeds
to guide his feet down to the ground. "Just follow me."

Nick does as he's told. He walks under his own steam, but he doesn't
know for the life of him where he is or what is going on. Even more,
he doesn't care. Gina takes his hand and leads him inside the large,
weather beaten warehouse which is dark and musty inside. She leads
him to the far corner to a mattress on the floor. In stark contrast
to the vacant, dilapidated building, this corner contains fresh
flowers, candles, bedding, and a cooler. Gina Marelli is pleased
with her preparations now that Nick is finally here.

"Let's sit you down over here," she coaxes, assisting her drugged
passenger to sit down on the mattress.

"Whoa," he mutters, blinking his eyes and trying to maintain his
bearings from the sudden change in his motion. *I feel so strange.*

The summer air is both warm and musty. Gina decides Nick looks much
too uncomfortable in his business suit.

"Let's shed some of this," she says, kneeling down on the mattress
next to him, and she begins to remove his coat.

At that moment, his cell phone rings. Gina fumbles through the
inside pockets of his jacket until she finds the phone. She glances
at the display to find it is LSP and decides to turn the phone off.
Then, she places his cell phone in her purse and returns to making
Nick more comfortable. She loosens his tie and unbuttons his shirt.
Nick just sits there and stares at her. Without either help or
resistance from him, she finally manages to remove his shirt until he
is down to his t shirt.

"There, doesn't that feel better?" she asks, not expecting an
answer. She neatly folds the clothing she removed and places them
aside. Although she is dressed more appropriately for the warm
weather than Nick, it is very warm today. She reaches into the
cooler and pulls out a couple of beers. She twists the cap off the
bottle and takes a long pull. *Ahhhhh. Cold and good.*

She opens the other and holds it up to Nick's lips. "Take a sip of
this. You look so hot."

Beads of perspiration have popped up on his forehead. With her help,
he is aware of the ice cold liquid in his mouth. He swallows and
focuses on the pleasurable feeling of cold beer traveling down his
parched throat and into his esophagus. *Mmmmm. Good.*

After she takes another pull on her beer, she holds the icy, cold
bottle up to Nick's face to cool him down. He closes his eyes and
takes in the cold against his cheek. *Feels good.*

The next thing he knows, he feels her mouth kissing his mouth. *My
God, I'm so high!*

Time and space are altered. Everything is moving in slow motion, and
everything she does feels good. He can do nothing but give in to the
hazy experience. He doesn't mind and doesn't fight it.

"I love you, Nick," Gina breathlessly utters in between kisses, as
she continues to take advantage of her drugged victim. "I've waited
so long time for you. I'll never leave you."

She strips him down of all his clothing and has her way with him.


Abandoned Warehouse
Seven hours later

Emerging from the ethers of intoxication, Nick opens his eyes to find
himself lying in a candlelit room. He feels as if he has cotton in
his mouth and in his head. He lies naked, under a thin coverlet in a
strange bed. *Where am I?*

Although he attempts to sit up, he falls right back down. His head
is pounding. He has the biggest hangover of all time, and the sweet,
nauseating smell of incense in the room is making him queasy. With
the exception of some burning candles, he notices it is dark. He
looks around the large, industrial space. It is at this time he
realizes his hands and feet are bound with rope.

Panic takes over his body. He quickly ascertains that he is alone,
but for how long? *How did I get here?* If only he could remember.
Something tells him he needs to get out of here, now. He struggles
with his arms and hands to wriggle free, and finds that he manages to
get some give of the rope near his right hand. Patiently, he works
it and works it until he is able to break free with one hand. Within
minutes, both his hands are free.

He then lies on his side and brings his knees up into his chest and
works to untie his feet. Passing minutes seem like hours, and he
doesn't know how much time he has left. His adrenaline continues to
rise while he frantically works on the ropes. Finally, his feet are
also free. He quickly rolls over and tries to stand but is
immediately hit with waves of dizziness. Reluctantly, he decides to
move more slowly.

His naked body glistens in the candle light while he frantically
searches for his clothing. Folded neatly in a stack, he finds the
clothes he must have had on earlier that day. He still is not able
to remember how he got here. In fact, the last thing he can remember
was working at LSP when he received an urgent call to meet his father.

He has to get out of here now; he has a very strong feeling about
that. Once he ties his shoes, he grabs one of the candles to use as
light and slowly make his way out of the warehouse. He opens a rusty
door and silently slips outside.

The moon is full, lighting the night sky, so he blows out the
shortened candle. After a quick look around, Nick realizes that he
does not recognize this place, and this thought is frightening. Not
twenty feet in front of him is a wide river. Nick can just make out
a barge silently making its way down stream. To his left is a path
leading to another warehouse, but to his right a gravel road follows
the river. It is an easy escape route, perhaps too easy.

This cruel day refuses to let up. His head is pounding, and each
step he takes on the gravel is too loud. Could someone be tracking
his escape? Breathing quickly now, he steps into the weeds and
follows the slightly curving road as it courses uphill, away from the
river. At the top of the hill the gravel road dead-ends into a paved
highway.

The highway, lined with old wood-frame buildings, is just as deserted
as the warehouse is. No cars. No people. Reminiscent of the
Twilight Zone! The area -- where ever Nicholas Fallin is -- seems to
be one of the many small towns that are dying.

He walks along the cracked sidewalks and passes wood-frame homes that
reflect an earlier, simpler way of life. Some have long been
deserted; others have been carefully maintained, but the night is so
still and quiet, he is reluctant to bang on any door. In the
distance, Nick sees bright lights. Not knowing what else to do, he
walks toward the lights.

The bleary-eyed, attorney enters the quick mart. The fear in the
eyes of this town stranger, coupled with his unkempt appearance,
frightens the pasty woman behind the counter. She is alone in the
store, and Nick immediately picks up on her fear.

"My name is Nick Fallin," he begins to speak, his voice shaking. "I
need help."

The mature woman is way ahead of him, as she has her hand on the
receiver of a telephone.

"How about I call the police?" she threatens.

Nick swallows hard. "That would be fine."

As the woman waits for someone to come on the line, Nick wearily
walks toward a booth at the front of the store.

"Wait. Don't sit there!" She directs Nick to sit at the back of the
store, away from the door. "I've got a gun behind this counter, and
I'm not afraid to use it."

Nick raised his hands to show he's not arguing the point, and he
takes a seat on the floor near the back wall. The woman and the
stranger wait for an uncomfortable period of time for the police to
arrive. Finally, a state trooper enters the market.

"He's over there," the agitated clerk points to Nick.

The trooper walks over to Nick and looks down on him. "What seems to
be the problem?" the officer asks.

"I need help," Nick tries to explain. "I walked here from a
warehouse, but I don't know how I got there."

"Can I see some I.D.?" the trooper commands.

Nick reaches down to his trouser pocket, but his wallet isn't
there. "My wallet . . . it's gone."

The trooper brandishes the handle of his pistol. "What's your name
sir?"

"Nicholas Fallin," Nick immediately answers. "I'm an attorney."

"And what is your business here in Donora?"

"I'm in Donora?" Nick is astounded. "Please, you have to believe
me. I don't know where I am or how I got here."

The officer continues to brandish his weapon.

"I woke up in a warehouse about mile from here. Someone brought me
there. I think I was drugged. My wallet and cell phone are gone."
Nick continues to ramble out information. He can't tell if the
trooper believes him.

"You can call my father," he finally suggests. "Burton Fallin, he
lives in Mount Lebanon."

"What's the make and license plate number of your car?" the trooper
asks.

"I don't know that my car is here. I can't remember how I got here."

The trooper explains, "I want it to run some information on you."

"I drive a BMW. The license plate number is XZV-915," he recites.

"Don't you move a muscle," the trooper instructs Nick.

*Believe me, I won't.* Nick holds his pounding head in his hands.

The trooper leaves the store for a few minutes and then
returns. "The car and license number you gave me does indeed belong
to a Nicholas Fallin," the trooper reports to Nick and to the clerk.

"My father can verify my identity," Nick pleads.

The trooper walks over to the counter and picks up the
receiver. "What's his number?"

In a moment's time, the phone is ringing.

"Hello," Burton Fallin answers.

"Burton Fallin?" the trooper asks.

"Yes, may I ask who is calling?" Burton wants to know.

"This is Larry Rockwall of the Pennsylvania State Troopers. I have a
man here with no identification who claims to be your son," the
trooper explains.

"Nick? Is he alright?" Burton is becoming concerned.

"He seems to be fine," the trooper assures the caller. "Hold on and
I'll put him on the phone. I need to know if you can identify him."

The trooper motions for Nick to come to the phone and hands him the
receiver.

"Dad," Nick is relieved.

"Nick, where are you? Are you okay?" Burton voice is shaken.

"I'm okay. I'm in Donora, but I don't know how I got here," Nick
tries to explain.

"What do you mean? I don't understand." Confusion is causing Burton
is become more upset.

"The last thing I can remember before waking up here is getting a
call to meet you . . . to help you save the Sanderson merger."

"What are you talking about, son? That merger went through without a
hitch." Burton is now even more confused and concerned. Nick is
making no sense.

"Gina Marelli called me this afternoon to tell me you needed me right
away . . . that the deal had soured," Nick recalls as his memory
suddenly begins returns to him.

At this time, the trooper asks to speak to Burton. The two have a
brief conversation, until the trooper is satisfied of Nick's identity.

In the meantime, Nick is astounded by his flooding memory. *Oh, my
God. The latte. Gina. I was drugged.*


Epilogue

Nick Fallin was taken to the hospital by the State Trooper where the
drug, PCP, was found in his blood stream. Traces of PCP were also
found in a Styrofoam cup of a coffee drink at the abandoned
warehouse. Everything at the warehouse was exactly as a Nick had
described.

Gina Marelli was later arrested at her home. It was Gina who had
sabotaged Nick's parking space to flatten his tire and bend his rim.
After taking Nick to the abandoned warehouse, she had planned to keep
him there indefinitely. At her home, Nick's missing items were found
by police and were photographed and tagged as evidence, to be
returned after Gina Marelli's trial for kidnapping and stalking.

As it turned out, Gina had been stalking Nick for months after seeing
him several times at the end of her yoga class. He would often come
to pick up Lulu Archer. In addition to yoga class, Lulu and Gina
were professional acquaintances who occasionally lunched together.
It was during these lunches when Gina described Lulu's plans to leave
the Pittsburgh area and break things off with Nick. Lulu had spoken
of Nick several times, about how his mother had died, and how Nick's
relationship with his father was hot and cold. As Gina lost her own
mother as a child, she then decided Nick deserved to have someone in
his life that would never leave him.

It is too bad that someone proved to be insane.

~fin~