Doctor Donald Patterson was scared. He was more terrified than he had ever been before in his entire life. He held a real good reason to be. Bee-Bo blamed him for Cody Schroder's demise. That gave Doctor Patterson all the cause he needed to be mortally afraid.

Perhaps he should have flown to Europe with his family that morning from the Dallas/Fort Worth International Airport? Lufthansa Flight 1614 would whisk them all to safety. He hoped. With Bee-Bo it was impossible to tell. There was no predicting what The Clown was capable of doing.

However, he made the decision to remain behind and attempt to reason with Bee-Bo. After all, he did everything The Clown asked him to do when they first discussed the possibility of selling Cody Schroder into the Sex Trade. That was Bee-Bo's specialty. The sound of easy money appealed to Doctor Patterson. So he gave into what The Clown wanted him to do.

Now, with an unhappy Bee-Bo lurching about, and in deep thought, Doctor Patterson wondered to himself as he turned left onto Forsythe Drive, "Of all the boneheaded mistakes you have made in your life how could you possibly have gotten involved with Bee-Be of all people?"

Racking his brain, he had no answer. Maybe the $100,000 in the briefcase on the seat beside him, he withdrew from the bank before he departed to meet The Clown, would allow the doctor to keep breathing air? Somehow he seriously doubted it would. Another pipe dream down the drain.

Doctor Patterson knew his remaining alive was Bee-Bo's decision alone to make. The prospects did not look promising. At least, perhaps, the money would be enough to spare his family. No doubt his life was over.

With beads of perspiration wetting his forehead, Doctor Patterson could feel his chest tighten. His breathing became laborious. Was he having a heart attack, he wondered? He had plenty of reason to. He reached up with a folded handkerchief and patted his face dry. Doctor Patterson knew he must force himself to keep driving. Bee-Bo awaited him.

"Get a grip on yourself Patterson," the doctor muttered. The words of encouragement were not sufficient.

He turned onto the two-lane Cunningham Place. Only a couple miles remained until he reached his final destination. The word "final" made Doctor Patterson shudder. He realized he better think of something, and decide a plan of action, pronto! It was his only chance of survival. Running away was not an option because Bee-Bo would hunt him down.

"Why didn't you just turn your personnel file over to Sheriff Daniels when he asked you for it?" became Doctor Patterson's next ponderment.

"Because you did not want the Sheriff to discover your involvement in Cody Schroder's coma," Doctor Patterson reluctantly answered his own question.

Attempting to justify his unethical actions Doctor Patterson said, "You had to put Cody Schroder in a medically-induced coma because you were losing him on the operating table. And Bee-Bo demanded the boy be kept alive any way necessary until he could claim his prized possession."

"Yes. That was as good an excuse as any other," Doctor Patterson prided himself on his intelligence believing, "it might just work."

Doctor Patterson knew Cody should never have been placed in a coma. There was no reason for him to be. Except for the doctor's own greed. There was no bona fide medical explanation for his actions. And Cody Schroder should have remained in that coma until he was brought out of it by Doctor Patterson himself. He should not have woken up on his own.

But somehow, as far as Doctor Patterson was concerned, "The little widget did wake up and by doing so he ruin everything!"

At the intersection where the Delando Hardware Store was located, Doctor Patterson turned right on Milledge Ridge Road. The small town of Astatula was quickly giving way to secluded pasturelands. He was running out of time. Once again he started to fret. This time there was no avoiding the inevitable.

"Who was this Doctor Ulysses Noel Owen who signed Cody Schroder's Death Certificate any way?" he wanted to know.

In all the years Doctor Patterson worked at Astatula General Hospital he never once heard of any such Staff Physician at the medical center. He must be some Newbie. Or some fill-in sent over by the Maretta Healthcare Staffing Services Group. They were always meddling into affairs they should not have been.

In rapid fire succession several questions popped into Doctor Patterson's worried mind including wasn't he Cody Schroder's Primary Care Physician? And, why wasn't he notified the boy expired? They all came back to one simple answer he could not avoid: because he was too busy shirking his responsibilities once Sheriff Daniels began investigating. And Doctor Patterson knew his actions being discovered would mean the loss of his practice. So he laid low hoping it would all just go away.

Then it hit Doctor Patterson like a ton of lead bricks. "U" "N" Owen. Unknown. There was no death certificate. Cody Schroder was not dead. That would be his saving grace with Bee-Bo. His life was spared!

Still the walls continued pressing in on Doctor Patterson from all sides. Would Bee-Bo believe him? Absentmindedly, he almost missed his turnoff. The abandoned shack stood out like a sore thumb in the middle of the sprawling pasture. This was where Bee-Bo told him their meeting would occur. Bee-Bo was pacing like a caged panther ready to strike as Doctor Patterson stopped his car.

An uneasy feeling settled over Doctor Patterson. He could read the handwriting on the wall. Bee-Bo approached his stopped Lexus. There was no smile on The Clown's face. For good reason Doctor Patterson's fear heightened. He sensed the end was near.