She rubbed her wrists and felt the circulation painfully return. She supposed that she ought to be grateful that her day-long ordeal was now over, but...to her surprise, she felt a deep sense of regret. She looked perversely forward to the subsequent scenes in which her helpless body was to be cruelly tortured and restrained by the sadist kidnappers!Algernon proffered her a towel to cover herself with and she brushed it aside. She had some time ago decided that it was not nearly cold enough for. . during the 12th century!It wasn't rational but she had just sat there believing him, and worse she still did.In her wanderings she passed a couple of maids who were busy dusting the furniture and then she found herself in the kitchen, the cook looked up as Veronica entered. "Can I help you ma'am?" She was asked which drew Veronica out of her thoughts."Err, no... I mean..." She faltered.The cook smiled at her, "What you need is a nice cup of tea." She said."No, I couldn't put you out; I mean. My name is Ana O'Connor and I just came here to thank you."Her last name sounded vaguely familiar but I couldn't pin it down."You're quite welcome, Mrs. O'Connor, but I actually can't remember what I did to deserve your thanks." I thought you might not. Does the name John Brown ring a bell?"Hesitating, I nodded. She smiled."He's my son. His real name is Franklin O'Connor."Of course I remembered. It had been about a year and a half earlier. He was the eighteen year old punk who came into my. Dropping one hand to her holster she was unable to draw it as two shadowy figures pinned her against the wall. One managed to get her sidearm away from her as a third figure demanded frantically to know what was going on. Pat realized she had interrupted a burglary in progress. She knew she was in a very bad situation: no radio, no backup and with three men who were not thinking very clearly. Two were arguing they should "use her" and the third was in favor of simply shooting her right now. Pat.