Nobody Barlow showed the photo to could identify the mystery man. Feeling discouraged, he wondered if he should just drop the whole thing. Except something inside wouldn't allow him to do that. He had to know. All these years he had blamed his father for killing Neil Mantener and stealing the cash.

Those thoughts plagued him as he drove to his meeting with Les Cunningham and his crew. Caroline sat in the passenger seat, gazing out the side window, brooding. Since their meeting with Pet last night, she had been acting moody.

He understood. She felt threatened by his history with Pet and their ease and familiarity with each other. Barlow reached across the console and took her hand. She let him, but he could tell her heart wasn't in it. He figured once they returned to Ohio and Caroline was back on her home turf, she'd snap out of her funk.

He eased his van onto the gravel lot of his father's construction office, his  construction office now. That concept was still hard to get used to. His former boss, Irv Washington, now his partner--another hard concept to get used to--had already arrived. His pickup sat in the lot near the door. They had arranged an orientation meeting with his father's crew to bring everyone up to speed on the merger. Irv had arrived late last night but opted to stay in more comfortable accommodations in one of the chain hotels at the Carlisle turnpike exit.

He and Caroline walked across the gravel lot and entered the modular office.

A half-dozen sets of men's eyes inspected them as they entered. They gave Barlow a quick glance before settling on Caroline.

"Les already introduced me to the crew," Irv said.

"What's left of the crew," Les added. "Sam, Tom, Frank, and Allen are the only ones remaining."

The four employees shook hands with Barlow.

"This is my girlfriend, Caroline," Barlow put an arm around her waist.

"Pleased to meet you, Caroline," Les said. "Would you and Barlow like coffee?"

Barlow waved him off. "No thanks, I had plenty of coffee at the inn this morning."

Caroline eyed the Keurig machine. "I'll have coffee, but I'll get it myself. You men have things to discuss."

They all watched her as she selected a K-cup and popped it into the hopper.

Barlow cleared his throat. When they refocused on him, he said, "Thank you all for sticking with the company. I came here to assure you that everything is going to proceed as usual. You will continue to get paid. Les Cunningham has been your foreman under my father, and he will continue in that role along with taking on some additional responsibilities." He went on to explain how a contingent of workers from Ohio would fill in over the winter until new local labor could be hired in the spring.

After a short Q & A session, everyone seemed satisfied.

Les grabbed his car keys from the desk. "Barlow, Caroline, and Irv are going to follow us to our housing project in New Bloomfield where I'll give them a tour. The rest of you guys can get to work. You all know what to do."

As the men started shuffling toward the door, Barlow suddenly remembered. "Oh, wait." He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the photo. "Do any of you recognize these guys?"

The men passed it around, all of them shaking their heads. They headed out. Barlow heard them start their vehicles and drive off.

Les Cunningham gave the photo a good look and also shook his head. "What's this about?"

Barlow took the photo back from him. "Never mind."

"Let me see," Irv said and extended his hand to take it.

Living his entire life hundreds of miles away in Columbus, the chances of Irv knowing who the mystery man was seemed slim to none. Barlow didn't see the point but passed the photo to Irv anyway so he wouldn't feel left out.

Irv studied the photo for a few seconds and smiled. "Yeah, I know him."

Barlow felt something like an electrical charge surge through him. "What? Are you sure?"

Caroline sucked in a sharp intake of air and moved to Barlow's side.

"Of course. It's—"

Before he could finish, the office door burst open with such a force, it bounced against the door stop. A disheveled man wearing a dirty wool shirt stumbled in holding a pint bottle of spirits. He raised a shaking finger and pointed it at Barlow. "Are you Forrest's kid?"

Les came around from behind the desk and approached the man. "What are you doing here?"

"Answer me!" the man shouted. Caroline flinched and took a step back.

"I'm Barlow Jackson. Forrest was my father. Who are you and what do you want?"

The man wobbled on his feet. "So, you're the sum o' bitch who fired me."

Les spoke up. "This is Slay Gunther, the former employee I told you about. The one who got into trouble with a state trooper while driving one of our vehicles."

Barlow recalled giving Les permission to fire the man. "Yeah, I'm responsible for canning your ass, and seeing the condition you're in, I'm surprised my father ever hired you in the first place."

Les pointed at the door. "Slay, you have ten seconds to get the hell out of here before I call the police. Don't ever come back."

The drunkard cackled. "At least it won't be that crazy woman who arrested me the last time."

This man was arrested by a lady trooper? Barlow took that to be too much of a coincidence. He had to be referring to Pet.

"Your time is up." Irv pulled his cell phone.

"Bitch got what she deserved. She won't be arresting anybody ever again."

Barlow reached over and closed his hand around Les's, stopping him from making the call. "Wait a minute." He turned to the drunkard. "Who are you talking about?"

"I got this, Barlow." Les moved toward the man. Barlow figured he was going to bodily remove the guy from the office.

"Wait!" Barlow shouted.

Everyone froze. The drunkard wore a smirk.

"Who are you talking about?" Barlow asked. "What do you mean she got what she deserved?"

The drunkard made a grand sweeping gesture with his arm. "The one with the Italian sounding name."

Caroline gasped and put a hand over her mouth. She uttered, "Petronia."

The drunkard rocked on his feet. "Yeah, that's the one. She got what she deserved."

When Barlow was with the Marines, he heard men speaking about blood lust, the uncontrollable desire to kill while in the heat of battle. It's something he had never experienced...until that moment.

He lunged, grabbed the man by the collar of his coat, and slammed him against the wall. The pint bottle the man held went flying across the room. Barlow slammed the man again, the back of his head bouncing off the wall, his eyes going wide and panicky.

"What have you done?" Barlow shouted. "What did you do to Petronia?"

From behind him, he heard an amused Irv Washington say, "You go, Barlow!"

The man's hands came up and scrabbled against Barlow's arms. "Let go of me, man. I have a torn rotator cuff."

Barlow slammed the back of the man's head against the wall, harder. "If you harmed her, I'll break every bone in your body."

The man's eyes seemed to roll up into his head.

Caroline wedged herself between Barlow and the drunkard. "Stop it, stop it," she urged. "Barlow, you're killing him."

A moment later, the three of them, Caroline, Irv, and Les pried Barlow off of the man.

Slay Gunther slid against the wall to the floor and came to rest on his butt, legs splayed in front of him. Drool leaked from a corner of his mouth.

Les knelt to get eye level with the man. He spoke in a calm tone. "Slay, what are you trying to tell us about the lady trooper? Did you do anything to her?"

He gave Barlow a suspicious look before turning his gaze back to Les. "Not me, man. I didn't do nothin'. Bitch had an accident. Saw it on ABC 27 news this morning."

Irv was on the verge of revealing the mystery person in the photo. Do you think Barlow cares anything about that now?