Clydie entered the kitchen with her heart thudding in her throat and her knees weak beneath her. She froze just inside the doorway, her gaze quickly darting about the room, taking in her parents, both standing by the sink, and Sheriff Benton, who was sitting at the table. And he wasn't alone. Sitting with him was Shep and seeing the young man...who looked startlingly handsome in the full light of day...cause of a sudden, jarring thought to race through the back of her mind.

The faded image of Tessa Wright had seemed so frenzied, crazed...so crazed that there were now two long gash marks running down her stomach...and she just had to wonder...if it was because Shep was in the house?

"Clydie, there you are," Ella said, sounding a bit relieved. "You have a couple of visitors."

Swallowing down the lump of nerves blocking her throat, she fought to find her voice. "Good morning, Sheriff. Shep," she greeted, trying to sound natural, but winding up sounding all breathy and weird.

"Miss Weston," Sheriff Benton returned and Shep gave her a curt nod, though the expression on his face was somewhat...contrite. "I'm here to ask you a few questions about last night."

She felt her heart stutter. Last night... Dammit! Had Shep ratted out Brody Hyatt! If she'd wanted that to happen, she would have done it herself!

"Have a seat, Pumpkin," Frank said stiffly, bringing her attention to the fact that she was standing frozen in the middle of the room.

Jerking into motion, she got herself to the table, choosing a chair that was as far away from the sheriff as she could get and dropping into it, huddling into Julian's sweater, which still held that scent that she found so comforting, which was why she'd chosen to slip it on.

"Well, Miss Weston, I hear there was an incident last night at the Movies on the Green. Do you want to tell me about it?" Sheriff Benton got right to business as he pinned her with this sharp gaze.

In that moment, had the sheriff not been sitting at the table, she would have thrown herself at Shep and set about clawing his eyes out. What had happened with Brody Hyatt was none of his business! He had no right to do this to her!

"There's no need to deny what happened. My son told me all about it," the sheriff stated and Clydie glanced at Shep, rage flaring up inside her.

Shep offered her a pained look, as if that made things any better.

"Now, tell me about Brody Hyatt assaulting you last night," came the command and Ella gasped.

"Hyatt? Sheriff, don't tell me that same boy attacked my daughter again!"

All eyes were on Clydie and for a second, she thought about bolting for the backdoor and just...running. She didn't know what she was supposed to do here. If she told the sheriff why Brody Hyatt had attacked her, he would start prodding her about Jessica Hyatt and she had nothing at all to tell him. But, she couldn't deny that anything had happened because Shep had gone and opened his massively huge gob!

"Miss Weston, if you'll corroborate my son's version of events, then I may not go so hard on your friend, Matt Tanner," the sheriff said and Clydie stiffened in her chair.

"Matt? What do you mean? This...this doesn't have anything to do with Matt!" she said, unable to grasp hold of what was going on.

"Oh, but this has everything to do with young Mr. Tanner," the sheriff said. "Last night, he got hold of Brody in the driveway of the Hyatt residence and, to put it mildly, he served Brody a bit of rough justice."

Clydie let out a gasp and so did Ella. Oh god. Matt! What the hell did Matt do that was bad enough to bring the sheriff to her door!

"Since neither of the young men will talk...well, I should say Mr. Tanner won't talk and Brody Hyatt can't talk, since he's in the hospital having his jaw wired shut—"

Ella gasped again and Clydie simply went numb with disbelief. "Matt...he-he didn't—"

"He did," came the response. "He also cracked a couple of Brody's ribs and just generally kicked the shit out of him. Pardon my indelicacy."

Oh dear god. Matt was going to prison.

"I was going to charge Mr. Tanner with Felonious assault and withhold bail until we can get him to court, but Shepard filled me in on the events that transpired at the park, so I might knock that charge back to Simple Assault...if I can get the truth out of you, Miss Weston."

Shit. Shit! What the hell had fucking Matt Tanner been thinking!

"I'm not condoning what Mr. Tanner did, but as a man with a daughter of my own, I can understand what was behind it. Which is why I'm willing to hand him a lesser charge. But, I need you to tell me what happened out of your own mouth, just so I can go back to Brody's family with the facts."

Clydie pulled in a halting breath. "I-I...don't want to cause trouble for anybody."

"Clydie, tell the sheriff what he wants to know!" Ella sternly urged. "You don't have to protect anybody but yourself here!"

Sheriff Benton kept his gaze on Clydie. "You won't be causing trouble. You'll be helping Matt. Without your statement, Brody's family will want me to press the heaviest charge against him. But, with a little leverage and the threat of a possible charge being brought against their own son, they'll probably back down and allow me to go with the lesser offense."

Shit.  Why in the name of hell did men think they could solve everything by using their fists!  Why didn't they use their shriveled up little brains for once!

Left with no other choice, she let her shoulders slump in defeat. "Brody Hyatt did attack me last night..."

She went on to explain the incident, cringing as she came to the part where Brody had physically struck her because that was when Ella started to sob. She wanted to be truthful, so she included Julian in the recount, just to let the sheriff know that some of the injuries might not have been cause solely by Matt himself.

When her tale had ended, Frank stepped forward. "Have you notified Matt's father?"

"Sure have. He's down at the station, waiting to hear if he can bail out his son," came the answer.

"Are you going to allow Matt to have bail?" asked Frank.

"In light of what your daughter just told me...I'll set bail for him, yes," Sheriff Benton replied. "Off the record, I honestly might have done the same thing. I'm sure my own son would have done."

Shep didn't weigh in, but his dark look said enough. But, again, Clydie was swept with rage. Shep Benton might defend his own sister, but what about the other girls he came across! What was he willing to do to them!

"When will you let him go?" questioned Frank.

"He can go as soon as I get back and file the paperwork."

Frank straightened his shoulders. "I'll follow you to the jail and bail him out myself. I think I owe the boy that much."

Clydie felt relief unfurl in her stomach. She knew Matt and his dad weren't well off, so not having to come up with bail money would lessen the burden on them.

"My question is, Sheriff Benton, how do you plan on keeping that...that barbarian...away from my daughter? And if I press charges, will that stop him?" asked Ella, dabbing her cheeks with a dish towel.

"No. Mom, I don't want that," Clydie spoke up.

"Clydie, that man physically attacked you! Again! He can't get away with that!" Ella declared, aghast.

"He won't get away with it," was the sheriff's word. "I'll make it clear to Brody Hyatt that if he so much as steps into your daughter's line of sight, he'll be spending an obscene amount of time in one of my cells. And I won't be as generous with him as I'm being with Matt Tanner."

"How can you be sure he'll listen! I mean, the boy has some sort of mental problem!" Ella argued. "He needs to get it through his head that my daughter can't help his family!"

Sheriff Benton exhaled a rough breath. "Well, we have differing opinions on that matter, Mrs. Weston."

Ella let out something of a low growling noise. "Sheriff Benton, I cannot make myself any clearer than to tell you, again, that my daughter has never stepped foot in this town—"

"I checked up on your family, Mrs. Weston," Sheriff Benton cut in. "I know that your daughter hasn't been in Cedar Cove before. I also know about your daughter's time in the hospitals...and what put her there."

Clydie went cold. How had the sheriff found out about...all that? Did doctors and hospital just...freely hand out every detail of a person's life?

"You couldn't possibly get hold of that information!  That's...private medical information!" Frank stated disbelievingly.

"Mr. Weston, with enough pull, I can get hold of nearly any kind of information," came the reply and a chill ran along Clydie's spine.

Maybe she could suddenly understand why no one wanted to speak out against Shep. Who knew what Sheriff Benton might actually capable of...

"So, is my daughter being accused of anything?" asked Ella, irritated now.

"No. But, I still believe she knows more than nothing," Sheriff Benton opined. "Either she's heard something from another person. Or..."

"Or...what?" Frank urged warily.

"You know better than I about your daughter's particular problems, Mr. Weston, so we don't need to discuss that bit. But, if you want to get to the meat of it...then all you need to do is look at your daughter's face when I mention Jessica Hyatt," the sheriff stated, turning his gaze to Clydie, who felt the blood drain right out of her.

Dammit! What was wrong with her! Why didn't she just tell the man everything and get it over with! He could go ahead and put her away someplace and maybe then everyone would just...leave her alone!

"I've seen that look a time or two in my years on the job," the sheriff went on.

"If there's a look on my daughter's face, its there because you're harassing her over something she knows nothing about!" Ella bit out.

"Mrs. Weston, I know about the tragedy that your family suffered, and I am in no real position to comment on the way you handle your daughter's problems, but that being said...rather than bringing doctors and hospitals into it, have you ever considered the notion that Clydie might be experiencing something more...psychic...than psychiatric?"

An immediate and complete silence dropped onto the room and Clydie felt the temperature plunge a good ten degrees. From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Shep, who had gone a few shades paler as he regarded her and she just knew that he would never open up to her. In fact, judging by the expression on his face and the fear in his eyes, she figured he'd likely never want to speak to her again.

"Sheriff Benton, I...are you... You're serious?" Ella spoke, her words stiff and...rather tremulous.

"Very," was the sheriff's riposte. "I've worked with a person or two who's fallen under the heading of psychic, for lack of a better term. Both of those women bear the same look on their faces...and in their eyes...because they've seen things. And because...they're afraid. They feel that imparting any information they might have about certain things will land them in trouble."

Frank cleared his throat. "Sheriff, my...my daughter...isn't some TV psychic who claims she can...talk to dead people!"

"I'm not talking about TV psychics, Mr. Weston. I'm talking about the real ones, the ones who wouldn't go public if their lives depended on it," the sheriff quantified. "And I'm not saying that your daughter is psychic, necessarily, but I do think she's...something out of the ordinary."

Clydie merely gaped at the sheriff, completely frozen in her seat. She had no idea how she was supposed to react...because he was probably right. At least, in some way.

"I could be completely off base, but if I was a betting man, I'd lay down money that Clydie is holding onto some sort of information, but she's too afraid to speak up," Sheriff Benton stated plainly, fixing Clydie with a serious look. 

A measure of confusion undulated through Clydie. She didn't know if Sheriff Benton actually thought she was...psychic...because it sounded extremely ridiculous, or if he'd just happened to come up with an angle he thought might get her talking, but either way, she found herself wanting to tell him that Jessica Hyatt was dead.

Of course, that being the only information she had, she wasn't sure it would make a damned bit of difference. Knowing the girl was dead and gone meant nothing when she couldn't offer up an explanation of how or why or even where her poor family might find her...

And aside from that, the person who could be responsible for whatever fate had befallen Jessica Hyatt was sitting right there at the table, so saying anything at all could prompt Shep to react in some way. He might destroy evidence or...move the body, if that was still possible?

"I'm just letting you know, Miss Weston, that you can talk to me. I will listen and I will take you seriously," the sheriff stated, pushing his chair back and reaching into his shirt pocket, pulling out a business card. "If you'd rather have a safe, private place to speak, you're welcome to come by the station at any time. Or give me a call and I'll meet you anywhere you want."

He handed the card to Clydie, who took it with a trembling hand. "Thank you," she whispered dryly.

"Sheriff, do I have your word that you'll keep that Hyatt boy away from my daughter?" Ella pressed as though the previous few moments of conversation hadn't even happened.

"You have my word," came the answer.

"I'd better," Ella bit out. "Because if he lays another finger on my daughter, and since you're suggesting we don't press charges against him, I'll do whatever it takes to have your ass in a sling!"

"Duly noted," the sheriff said, though without much outward concern. "If you want to follow me, Mr. Weston. We should get back to the station."

Frank nodded, leaning in and giving his wife a peck on the cheek, whispering a few words into her ear before hitching up his jeans and starting for the door.

"Bring Matt straight back here, Frank!" Ella called after him.

With a thumbs up given, Frank led the way out of the kitchen, the sheriff and his son following closely behind. Even as the kitchen door was closed, Frank's heavy footsteps could be heard echoing along the hallway as they made for the front door.

Once the men had trooped out and silence engulfed the room, Clydie swiftly found herself wishing that she had just bolted out the backdoor. She wasn't even looking at her mother, but she could feel the woman's upset coming at her in a tangible wave.

"Clydie," Ella began after a long minute, making Clydie flinch with dread, "are you going to tell me what's going on? Why didn't you let us know that boy had attacked you again?"

"I-I didn't want to bother you," she whispered, looking at the card in her hands rather than her mother.

How lame did that sound? She didn't want to bother her parents by telling them about her physical assault?

"Clydie, why...why would you think telling us about that would be a bother?" Ella asked, her tone slightly...annoyed.

"Mom, I'm enough of a burden for you and dad. And this...this had nothing to do with either of you. I wanted to handle it myself," she said truthfully.

"You think you're a burden?" asked Ella, still managing to sound frustrated.

Was that even a serious question?  Certainly, it couldn't have been, so she merely lifted a shoulder in answer.

Ella pulled in a loud, long breath. "Lord, help.  This has been an incredibly long week for everybody. I think your father and I should take you for a drive up the coast tomorrow. A little break might help to clear your head. It might help all of us, actually."

Clydie kept staring at the business card in front of her.  Ella hadn't denied her words...

"Would you like that, honey?" Ella wondered. "We can see the sights and grab some food. It'll be relaxing."

"I don't know. Maybe," she answered non-commitally.

"Well, we can talk about it over breakfast. It's the weekend, so that means waffles, right," Ella said, dredging up a small amount of enthusiasm.

Right. Rubbery, bitter, burned, inedible waffles. She suddenly hated the weekends.

"Listen, Clydie, I don't want you to pay any attention to Sheriff Benton. He's just trying to get information out of you. No one really thinks you're...psychic. That's ridiculous! So, just pretend he didn't say a word about it," Ella went on as she began to clink things around in the fridge.

What Ella really meant was that she wanted to pretend Sheriff Benton hadn't mentioned it. That way, she wouldn't have to think about Sam...not being at peace.

"And I know your father is worried about some meds that he found in your room, but if you need to take them, go ahead. They're there to help you," Ella told her easily. "Just be careful about taking too many. You have to read the label and follow the dosing instructions."

Clydie felt her spirit shrivel a measure. Her mother would rather she be medicated, so she was more zombie than real girl, which would pretty much keep her quiet and out of the way.

"And don't worry about this Brody Hyatt person. If he comes near you again, I'll press charges against him and the sheriff. And I'm giving Matt a bonus for kicking his ass," Ella stated in that chatty way that meant she was trying to talk right past the real issues in the hopes that they would just be swept aside and forgotten.

Clydie nodded, suddenly weighed down by dejection and a strange feeling of...stark loneliness.

"So, I think while your father is out getting Matt, I should make the poor guy something to eat," Ella said, brisking up. "I doubt he was given a much of a meal in the county jail."

The thought of Matt spending the night in some dirty jail cell, probably sitting beside actual criminals, tightened her chest. He'd nearly gotten himself into some serious trouble because of her...because he'd been defending her. She just couldn't believe someone she'd known for just a few days would do that for her, would put himself at risk that way.   

"I'm gonna go for a walk on the beach," she said, pushing her chair back and getting to her feet and shoving the business card into her sweater pocket.

"Alright. Don't stay out too long. You need to eat something," her mom reminded. "Oh, and can you bring me your medicine bag? I feel better keeping it in my room."

Clydie headed for the backdoor, keeping her gaze on the floor. "I couldn't find the bag," she said, opening the door and stepping out into the cool, grey morning, pulling the door firmly closed behind her. Her mother could take whatever she wanted from that statement.

Wrapping Julian's sweater tight around herself, she made for the rickety steps leading down to the shoreline. Out on the sand, with the sweeping harbour spreading out before her and the wide open space all around her, she paused to pull in a deep breath of the briny air, trying to rid herself of the...unrest...that was swirling through her like a dark, sinister fog.  So strong, so consuming, was that unrest that she was beset by the want to just...go, to start walking and keep walking.  Only, she knew that wouldn't solve anything because the unrest was inside of her, so she'd simply be carrying it along with her.

Really, it wasn't all that strange that she'd want to get away from everything.  Her day had already been incredibly long, and frankly, so much had transpired in such a short time, she didn't have the wherewithal to dwell on it.  Nor could she give into the need to start walking, not if she wanted to be there when her dad brought Matt home.

So, with no recourse left to her, she went back to the wooden steps and sat down there, staring out over the brooding grey waves that stretched out to meet the brooding grey sky. The bleakness and gloom that permeated Cedar Cove only seemed to drive home how...alone...she felt.  And how...alone...she truly was, especially within her own family...