Failure?

by sbishoff

Hardcastle returns to find Mark and all his things gone. Did he run?

Authors Notes: I do not own the characters.

This story is one I previously posted, and now am reposting with some small changes.

Failure?

by Susan Bishoff

Judge Milton C. Hardcastle drove back to his home at Gulls-Way. He had spent the afternoon at the police station getting information for his next case.

His thoughts turned to the young man he had left at home earlier that morning. Mark McCormick was the ex-con he had taken into as his rehabilitation project. Only he had different plans for this kid than just getting him on the straight and narrow. This one was going to help catch the criminals that got off on technicalities.

The kid really could spark his anger. Why does he have to question everything I say? Can't he just follow orders for once? he thought as he remembered their fight from that morning.

The argument that morning hadn't been any different from others the two men had had since the start of this arrangement three months ago. What bothered him was that the arguments were still happening. That the kid would not recognize his authority was not acceptable.

When he left that morning, he had given Mark strict instructions to trim the hedges and to be there when he got back.

He could still hear Mark's smart reply, "Yeah, and what if I'm not?"

He had answered "You don't want to know." Then he left him standing there, staring at the departing taillights.

In his anger Hardcastle had been even more cross with the young man than he meant to be. If the kid had just kept his mouth shut for once, he wouldn't have been so rough. But while he drove to the station, the judge's anger had faded. He was frustrated about how to get through to the hard-headed young man.

He didn't really expect the kid to leave. He had made the threat as an added incentive. After three months, he felt he could trust the kid to stay put. Otherwise, angry or not, he would never have left him alone at the estate. But still--he needed the kid to know who was boss

As he drove into the estate grounds and made his way up to the house, the jurist looked for signs of the young man working. He saw no sign of him and thought to himself, "He's probably off loafing in the Gatehouse." Reaching the top of the drive, the first thing he noticed was the absence of the Coyote. Slamming on the brakes and bringing the truck to a stop, Hardcastle jumped out of the vehicle and striding angrily to the Gatehouse, muttered angrily to himself, "You had better have a good excuse for this, kid."

As the judge entered the Gatehouse, he was struck by the emptiness. There was none of McCormick's usual mess everywhere. He quickly took the stairs to the loft and opened the closet. Empty. He checked the drawers….also empty. Looking through the other rooms for the young man's belongings, he found nothing.

"No," Hardcastle said, anger filling him. "This is one mistake you will regret making." He stormed into the house and grabbing the phone, quickly dialed.

"Frank," he said when the lieutenant answered. "I want you to put out an APB on McCormick. He's skipped out on me! I got home to find the Coyote gone. The Gatehouse has been cleaned out. All of his stuff is gone."

He listened to Harper's questions.

"No, nothing else is missing, just his things," the judge replied getting angry. "He threatened to leave this morning and now he's gone. I want the APB, Frank." He gave the lieutenant any information he would need for the APB on McCormick's clothing and the car.

"Okay, Milt. I'll have it put out. I'll be over in a little while and get the complete story," Harper said as he hung up the phone.

0000

Sitting over the figure tied on the floor, James Hollister watched and waited. He had planned this very carefully right down to the last detail. As he sat watching he thought over what had brought this all about.

He had served the LA community for years and this is how he was thanked. The guys he took in were scum and you had to show them who was boss -- any way it took. Too bad the California Corrections System didn't agree. They fired him for hitting a few cons.

The picture in yesterday's paper really infuriated him. It showed an older man with a young man. The caption below the picture read, "Retired Judge Milton C. Hardcastle and his associate Mark McCormick were instrumental in the arrest of the suspect. Judge Hardcastle and Mark McCormick, an ex-con in the Judge's custody, have helped the police on occasion with special cases."

After reading the article he called an old informant from his time on the force. The man told him that word on the street was the judge was retired and he wanted to go after some of the ones that had gotten away on technicalities. Hollister agreed with that idea but the rest of what he was told did not sit well with him.

The judge had decided he was going to need an assistant, so he arranged to get McCormick off on his charges and placed in his custody in exchange for his help. This was a con who had done the same offense before and now he went unpunished.

Seemed the judge thought of it as some sort of rehabilitation project. Hollister thought it was crap.

They needed to learn a lesson. He'd teach them one. A lesson that one of them would never forget and the other one…He let that thought hang as he laughed at what he had planned.

As he sat waiting and watching, he remembered how he had carried out the first part of his plan. He had contacted an acquaintance of his that he had used on occasion. Jack Potter didn't care what the job was as long as he got paid and readily agreed to help him with his plan.

They drove to Gulls-Way and found McCormick trimming the hedges on the front lawn. Once they had subdued the young man, Hollister delivered a few more well placed kicks for good measure.

"Help me pick him up," Hollister ordered. The two men put Mark in the truck. Then Hollister rolled down the window and tied McCormick's hands to the doorframe. He then shut the door trapping the rope so he couldn't get loose.

"Now let's get his things from the Gatehouse," Hollister ordered. "Don't take anything that isn't his. If you're not sure, leave it."

After they had removed all Mark's things and loaded them in the Coyote, Hollister turned to Potter. "Take his car to the designated spot and drop it off. Then take a cab home. I'll meet you tomorrow to give you your payment."

"Okay," Potter replied as he slid into the Coyote and started the engine.

"Go straight there. If this is to work the car must be hidden," Hollister ordered.

"I will. See you tomorrow," Potter said, driving toward the front gate. Hollister started up the truck and took off soon afterwards.

00000

Once back at the house trailer he had found so useful for his plan, Hollister dragged McCormick inside. He securely tied him to the ground in a reverse fetal position by pulling his arms behind him, and wrapping them tightly to the flexed legs with strong loops. Since he suspected that the kid's left shoulder was dislocated, tying him in this fashion would make struggling difficult. He placed a gag in his mouth.

When he had Mark secured in the trailer, he went back to the truck and drove off to the spot he had found earlier. Parking it, he wiped it inside and out to leave no prints. He knew no one would find the truck for a few days and when they did it couldn't be traced to him. Both the truck and the plates were stolen.

0000

Mark's first awareness was of pain. His head hurt, and so did his shoulder, ribs and legs. His next conscious thought was that he couldn't move. He also felt the gag in his mouth. He kept his eyes closed as he tried to clear his head and tried to remember what had happened.

The judge had been gone about 30 minutes when McCormick heard a sound behind him. Half expecting the judge had returned to make sure he was working, he turned, ready with a smart remark.

The words died on his lips as he saw the two men standing there. They were positioned behind him a little off to each side. The one on the right was of medium build and about average height. He had short brown hair and his face was haggard. The man on the left was taller than Mark by a few inches and had the physique of a body builder. He was wearing a ball cap and sunglasses.

He could tell by the looks on their faces that they meant trouble. By their positions, if he went to either side, he would be caught by one or the other. He decided that the best route for getting away was to go backward, through the hedges.

Before either man could react, he threw the hedge clippers toward the closer man then turned and ran through the bushes he had been trimming moments before.

Both men were surprised by his sudden movement. But they quickly recovered and started after him.

Mark ran toward the house. He didn't look to see how close they were, he just kept running. He knew if he could reach the Coyote, he could go to the police for help. As he started across the patio to the Coyote, he saw the shorter man step from behind the corner and block his path to the car. Aw, shit, they split up.

He started to turn around and noticed the other man approaching from behind. He knew he was going to have to face them. He stopped and so did the they.

The two men started approaching him slowly from both sides at the same time. When they got close, Mark struck out at the larger one. His fist connected with the man's jaw causing him to step back. Hoping to take advantage of his distraction, he turned toward the smaller guy. He connected a blow to his stomach and was preparing to follow with another. As his attention was on the man in front of him, he didn't see the other attacker recover and approach him from behind.

The larger man grabbed Mark and pulled him backward. He felt his left arm wrenched behind his back so forcefully that he felt faint. His right arm was pinned to his side by the thug's arm, which was wrapped around his chest.

The smaller man approached and stopped right in front of Mark. He backhanded him fiercely and was pleased to see the pain in the young man's eyes. He quickly followed the slap with a punch to the gut, doubling McCormick over, then jerked Mark upright. McCormick struggled to get his breath.

He looked the man in front of him in the eyes and asked, "What do you want?"

"You'll know soon enough," the intruder replied as he slugged him again.

Mark, knowing the situation was very bad, struck out with his foot. He connected with the man's groin, then quickly followed that with a blow to the man holding him, hitting him in the shin. Both thugs reacted and Mark felt the hold on him loosen, freeing his right arm.

Using what strength he could find, he swung his right elbow and hit the tall man in the face. He was released and fell to the ground. He quickly rose and started to run again. He had only taken a few steps when he was tripped by the smaller man. He fell to the ground. Before he could rise, the larger man approached and kicked him in the ribs. Mark lay struggling to breathe. He felt his left arm grabbed again. It was once again pulled behind his back and he struggled to get free.

The short guy growled, "Hold him still!"

"I am," the other man said, jerking Mark's left arm roughly.

Mark yelled out as a red hot pain flashed through his shoulder. He attempted to struggle and was rewarded with another jerk. This jerk resulted in a popping in his shoulder and the pain was so intense he let out a sharp cry and his body became lax.

"That'll stop your struggles," Mark's captor replied. He released the arm wrapped around Mark's chest and held him by his left arm and a hand on his right shoulder.

Mark watched as the smaller man approached him. He expected the blow, but still doubled over as the fist connected with his ribs.

The last thing he felt was pain exploding in his head and then there was blackness.

00000

Once Hollister returned to the trailer he surveyed his handiwork. He was very satisfied with how things had gone this afternoon. From here it was down hill. Even if things didn't go exactly according to plan, it would still work out.

This trailer wasn't large but it would do. He wouldn't be needing it long.

Now all he had to do was wait. He didn't believe it would be long now.

He glanced down at the man tied on the floor and noticed he was starting to stir. He watched him for a few minutes, knowing that he was trying to figure out what had happened. He walked over and poked him with his foot.

Mark felt something poke him in his left shoulder and he couldn't suppress a cry in pain. He slowly opened his eyes.

"Well, you're finally awake," the man said as he pushed Mark onto his side so he could see his face. He bent down and pulled the gag out of his mouth.

Mark tried to see where he was. He couldn't see much past the man standing in front of him. As far as he could tell he was in a dimly lit room. He could see the man and a chair a few feet away. "Who are you? What do you want with me?" he asked.

"My name is James Hollister and I want you and Judge Hardcastle to suffer," he said, leering at Mark coldly.

"I don't know you. Why are you doing this?" Mark asked.

"Why?" Hollister said getting more agitated. "Because you both deserve to suffer." He walked over to Mark and delivered a well-placed kick to his lower regions and then laughed as he cried out in pain. "I owed you that one."

After a few moments, Hollister went on, "No, you don't know me but I know all about you and Judge Hardcastle. Scum like you make me sick. You break the law and you get away with it. You should all rot in jail or better yet just die. And Judge Hardcastle, he really deserves to pay. Taking filth like you and letting you off. Taking you into his home and letting you live there like you deserve it. Rehabilitation doesn't work with your kind. But he'll find that out."

"What are you going to do to the Judge," Mark asked, growing concerned. He may not get along with the gruff old guy all the time, but he didn't want him to be hurt.

"Don't worry. He won't be hurt. At least not physically," Hollister said, breaking out in a grin. "You on the other hand, are going to die, slowly."

"You'll never get away with this," Mark said.

"Maybe not, but by the time they find me, it'll be too late for you. But even before that, you'll be the one the cops are looking for," he said.

Mark was finding it hard to take it all in. His head was still hurting pretty bad and made it hard to concentrate. And Hollister just didn't seem to make sense to him. "What are you talking abut. Why will the cops be looking for me?" he asked.

"Because I made sure Judge Hardcastle is going to believe you skipped out on him. They'll be looking for you, but by the time they find you, it'll be too late," Hollister explained.

"The Judge won't believe I ran," Mark replied, confident that the judge would believe in him.

"Yes, he will. See, I took you, your car, and all your belongings. He'll report you missing and you'll be a wanted man. But the best part is that the Judge's rehabilitation project is a failure. He'll be the laughing stock of the legal community. Everyone knew it would fail, and now so will he," Hollister said.

"No, he knows I wouldn't skip out on him," Mark replied.

"It doesn't matter what you think now. You'll see," Hollister said, pacing in front of Mark. Stopping and looking down at him, he said, "Even when it all comes out, there will still be doubters. The accusations will have still been made. He will never be the Great Judge Milton C. Hardcastle again. He'll just be that fool who picked a worthless ex-con for a sidekick."

Bending down in front of Mark, he placed the gag back in his mouth. Once done he stood and started delivering blows to McCormick's midsection. He took great delight in the fact that each blow caused the young man to pull in on himself which then caused great pain to pass through his shoulders and legs, especially his injured one. After a few blows the pain caused Mark to lapse into unconsciousness.

00000

Sarah arrived back at the estate that evening to find the Coyote missing and the Judge's truck there. "It's too early for Mark to be out on a date so he and the Judge must have gone out," she thought to herself as she entered the house.

She was surprised to see the Judge sitting alone in the den. "Oh, Your Honor, I didn't expect to see you here. I saw Mark's car wasn't there and thought you must have gone out" she said.

Seeing the look of disappointment and sorrow on the judge's face and in his eyes, she approached.

"What is it? What's wrong?" she asked.

"The kid split," the judge answered, looking at her. Even as he said this to Sarah, he was beginning to wonder.

"No," she replied. "He wouldn't."

"Well, he did. I left him here this afternoon and when I got back this evening, he was gone," he explained. Seeing her about to argue, he continued, "And all of his things are missing from the Gatehouse."

"Your Honor, you know that Mark would not leave here," she stated quietly.

"Well, he not here, is he?" he replied angrily.

Sarah ignored his anger and replied, "There has to be another explanation and you know it. If you had believed he would take off, you never would have left him home alone today. Nor any of the several other times over the past few weeks."

"Then where is he and why is he not here?" His anger diminished to be replaced by utter disappointment. Disappointment in the kid he thought had what it took to make it work, and disappointment in himself for allowing him to be fooled by the kid's quick smile and easy charm.

"I don't know," Sarah said, breaking him from his thoughts. "But I don't believe that he would just leave without a good reason. If he wanted to run, he could have long before now."

"But all his stuff is gone. What else am I supposed to think?" he asked wishing he could believe as easily as Sarah.

"I don't know, Your Honor. But I'm sure you'll figure it out," she said as she started to leave the den.

Stopping at the door, she turned around. "Do you want anything to eat?" she asked.

"No, maybe some coffee. Frank is coming over to discuss this," he told her.

"Okay," she said and then added, "Mark didn't run."

"How can you be so sure?" he asked her doubtfully.

"The same way you know it's true," she said as she turned and walked out the door to the kitchen.

The judge watched her leave, astonished by her steadfast belief that McCormick hadn't skipped out. He remembered her disbelief when he told her to put the kid in the Gatehouse. She wasted no time telling him that the gardener's trailer had always worked for these cons before and it should now. But he had insisted and she complied although he knew she wasn't happy about it.

She also made no attempt to allow herself to be drawn in by the kid. He was openly friendly, and she wasn't cruel--just aloof. She held back and waited for him to show his true colors. Oh, the mouth was going a mile a minute, but it didn't fool Sarah any more than it did him. She soon realized that the smart mouth and smart comments about not needing anyone covered for a scared, confused young man, who indeed needed and wanted someone to care.

But as the weeks passed and the kid didn't revert to the cold, calculating con she expected, the judge saw her guard begin to drop. She was starting to like the kid and was doing little things for him. Hardcastle kept telling her not to spoil him but she would reply that if Mark was going to help her with the yard then he couldn't have a heatstroke or catch pneumonia. She started fixing him things that he liked for supper sometimes.

It was little things like that that let the judge know Sarah's feeling for McCormick had changed from distaste to liking and caring. It took several weeks for Sarah to let her distrust for the young man go. The jurist hadn't realized until this evening that it had been replaced by such complete trust.

00000

Sarah walked into the kitchen and went to make the coffee. At the same time she contemplated the young man that had come up missing and her belief in him.

She remembered how she felt when he first came. She thought he would be the same as the others. He had such a smart mouth on him. He acted so tough and had such a bad attitude. He made it known right from the start what he thought of this arrangement. He wasn't happy about it or the judge. He had no manners and was rude. He showed the judge no respect and didn't act like he ever would.

It would only be a matter of time before he reverted back to his true nature. She would keep her eye on him and catch him. The judge might think he was different, but she knew better. These kids would say and do anything to pull one over on you. Well, it wasn't going to happen to her.

But as time passed and Mark continued to act the same as when he came, she realized that that was what it was--an act. He wasn't as tough as he pretended. The smart mouth covered the hurt, confused boy inside. She also found that the littlest things would make him happy.

He may have not shown much respect for the judge, but he was never rude to her. He tried to watch his language in front of her, and if he slipped he would get so embarrassed. He would help her carry things from the car and put them away, often without asking. He might complain about everything he was told to do, but he would do it. It was almost as if he couldn't operate if his mouth wasn't running.

She still remembered the first time she took a glass of tea to him as he worked in the yard. He became so flustered and turned so red that she had a hard time hiding her grin. He thanked her and turned his head to hide his embarrassment. The look in his eyes made it easy for her to want to do things for him.

When she thought about how she could believe in him so strongly, the answer came easily enough. He had worked with the judge on his cases since he had been here. He had not once let the judge down. He may not have always done things exactly as the judge wished, but he did do what needed to be done. The judge had told her of a few times the kid had saved him and others. Then there was the fact that when the judge left him here alone, he hadn't run off. He could have--any time he wanted, and he hadn't.

No, Mark was not the type to go back on his word. He had given the judge his word not to run, and she believed him.

00000

Mark slowly made his way to awareness. As he did he became aware of a noise in front of him. He slowly opened his eyes and looked around.

"Oh, good, you're awake," Hollister said as he came closer.

Mark prepared for a blow and was surprised when it didn't come.

Hollister bent down in front of him. "I have something I think you'll want to hear." He brought a small police radio down closer. He turned the volume up where it could be heard, but not loud enough to draw outside attention.

"This is an All Points Bulletin. Be on the lookout for Mark J. McCormick, age 29. He is 6'1" and approximately 180 pounds. He has curly brown hair and blue eyes. He was last seen wearing a red T-shirt and jeans. He is driving a red sports car with the license plate reading 'COYOTE X.' Suspect is wanted for parole violation and is to be apprehended on sight," the radio announced.

Turning off the radio, Hollister watched as a look of shock passed across Mark's face. As the shock was replaced by disbelief and fear, he got a particular joy.

Mark shook his head, not believing what he had heard.

The kidnapper reached down and pulled the gag from Mark's mouth. "What do you say?" he asked, taking pleasure in the young man's obvious anguish.

"He wouldn't. There has got to be a mistake," Mark said quietly. He didn't want to believe what he had heard.

"Well, he did,. and it's no mistake. He is looking for you--to put you back in jail. You didn't actually think that he would believe in you, did you? See even the Judge knows you're no good," Hollister said, tormenting him by throwing words of doubt at him.

Mark's mind was racing. If the judge really thought he had skipped out, he wasn't going to be coming to the rescue. No he trusted the judge. He believed that he would figure out something had happened to him. He had to hold on to that belief.

Hollister reached behind Mark and checked the ropes to ensure they hadn't loosened. Satisfied that they were tight enough, he stood up and walked back to his chair and sat.

He got into the bag of supplies he had brought and removed the thermos. He knew that Mark was watching him. He looked at him and saw him eyeing the water as he poured some in a glass." "What do you want?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"Some water please," Mark asked.

"You want some of this?" Hollister asked as he slowly drank from the cup.

Mark nodded his head.

The ex-cop walked over and stood over him. As Mark watched, he drained the cup. He then bent down and replaced the gag and said, "Sorry, boy. You aren't getting any. I'm leaving here first thing in the morning. A few days here with no food or water and you'll be history."

Mark silently pleaded with his eyes for water and release.

"You can look at me all you want. You are not getting any food or water. I told you that you were going to die and now you know how," Hollister told him coldly as he returned to his seat. He watched with great pleasure as Mark realized just what his situation was.

00000

Lt. Frank Harper arrived at Gulls-Way and Sarah showed him into the den. Upon entering, he found the judge sitting behind his desk, looking very upset.

"The APB has been issued for Mark and the Coyote, Milt," Frank said as he came in and took a seat. "Is there anything else you can tell me?"

"No, I came back from the station to find McCormick, and his car and things gone. Nothing else was taken," he replied..

"Well, that car won't be hard to find. We'll find him soon. I'm sorry, Milt," Frank said, not sure how to help his old friend.

"Frank, I want the Gatehouse dusted for prints," the judge said suddenly.

"Why? We know he took off," Frank asked, surprised by the request.

"Because I'm not so sure anymore. It doesn't make sense. He's had plenty of opportunities before. Why wait until now?" the judge asked.

"Maybe so you wouldn't be expecting it," the lieutenant offered.

"Maybe, but I have a feeling that something isn't right. Please, Frank, humor me," the judge asked, trying to hide his desperation to find another explanation for the young man's disappearance.

"Okay, Milt," Frank said, picking up the phone. He called the police station to have a crime scene team dispatched to Gulls-Way.

00000

Frank and the judge waited for the lab boys to arrive. Upon their arrival, the judge showed them to the Gatehouse.

He and Frank waited in the drive to answer any questions they might have. Once the team had finished they took the judge's fingerprints to rule out any of his that might be in the Gatehouse. After the officers had left, Hardcastle and Frank returned to the den.

"I don't know what you intend to find, but I hope you find it," Frank told him doubtfully.

"Me too," the jurist said sadly. "I really don't want to think that McCormick wasn't who I thought he was. I really thought he had what it takes. I'd hate to be this wrong about him."

"Milt, I hope you're right," the lieutenant said, meaning it. He had started to like the kid himself and was beginning to see what Hardcastle saw in him. For both their sakes, he thought to himself and then speaking aloud, "It really would be a shame for him to mess up now."

The judge said nothing, just sat at his desk, looking angry and disappointed.

Sarah brought them more coffee, and retired for the evening.

Frank and the judge sat and watched a game--or pretended to, anyway. Neither man said much. They didn't know what to say. Frank stayed until 11:30 and then he headed home, promising to let the judge know what the prints showed.

00000

Mark had drifted off to sleep for a while but did not sleep long. He was too afraid of the man in the room with him to really relax.

He awoke to find his thirst was worse. It was cooler now that evening had come but not enough to provide much relief.

He saw Hollister staring at him with an odd look on his face, sipping from a cup.

Hollister noticed him looking in his direction and came over to remove the gag.

"Please could I have some water," Mark asked.

"I already told you no," Hollister said knowing that McCormick would be very thirsty. He walked back over and poured some more water unto the cup.

Mark watched him and asked again, "Please?"

Hollister laughed and then said, "If you show me you really want it, I'll let you have some."

"Please, could I have some water?" Mark pleaded.

"Close, but not quite good enough. You want it, beg for it," Hollister said, enjoying Mark's discomfort.

"Please, could I have some water. I'm so thirsty. Please, I need some water. I beg you, can I have some water?" Mark begged, his face red with shame.

"Well, that was very good," Hollister said walking over to his captive. He bent down and lowered the cup to a few inches in front of Mark's face. Just before he could reach it, Hollister jerked it back and said, "Sorry, I changed my mind. You can't have any." He replaced the gag and walked back to his chair. He thought as he sat, The look on his face was priceless. He was so humiliated.

Mark felt so ashamed that he had begged this man for the water. He tried to hide that from Hollister but knew it showed in his face. He closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep. After a while he did drift off.

00000

The judge sat in the den for a while before deciding to go to bed. He went to his room, but sleep would not come. His mind was occupied by thoughts of the young man, and his disappearance. He tried to think of what might have made him take off. Even when he was thinking that, part of him was saying that it wasn't true. If it wasn't true, then where was he and what happened to his things?

I remember when I first brought him here. He was so smart-mouthed and rude. He insulted me at every opportunity and made fun of this arrangement. He refused to acknowledge that I was boss. He'd complain about every job I gave him and would loaf anytime I didn't stay on him.

As we started working on cases, I saw some differences in his actions and his words. He might complain about doing these cases, but when I really needed him to do something, he would do it. I really could count on him to back me up. He pulled me out of the fire a few times.

He could have skipped out way before this. Even when I was right here, he could have left if he wanted to. He stayed all the times I left him alone. I was gone for hours some of those times, he could have been long gone before I would have known. No leaving now doesn't make sense. Maybe in the first few weeks of our arrangement, but…not now.

He acts so tough, but I believe it is just that. He lets his guard drop sometimes and you can see that he's not as tough as he would like everyone to think. I know that prison scares him. He gave me his word that he would give this his all. I can't see him breaking it especially since that would be a fast ticket back to slammer.

But beyond that is the fact that he promised. Even without the threat of returning to prison. He takes his promises very seriously. I've seen him get upset at the idea of going back on his word. He would not lie about something this serious. He may lie about something he thinks I don't need to know, something he doesn't want me to know about his past. But he wouldn't lie about something like this that affects our working together.

As I got to know him, I could see that he wasn't so tough. There are times he seems more like a lost and lonely kid than a grown man. I wish I knew more about his upbringing. It might help explain some of his mood swings. He can be happy one minute and depressed the next. I think that sometimes he uses that mouth of his to push people away. I know something about that. I didn't want to be pals, but sometimes it's so hard not to want to "mother" him. I find myself liking him and trusting him. How is it possible to like and trust someone you've only known for such a short time.

This situation doesn't make sense. Why would he go now? Where would he go? If he had to leave for a personal matter, why didn't he leave a note or call,? He knew where I was. Something about this doesn't mesh with what I know about the kid.

His thoughts continued along those lines until sleep finally came much later.

00000

Mark awoke from sleep again and found himself thirstier than before. He was also becoming aware of another problem.

Hollister had been watching Mark and noticed over the last hour that he had become more and more restless. He had been tied on the floor for over twelve hours.

Mark looked up at Hollister pleadingly. Hollister suspecting what he wanted, walked over, bent down and removed the gag.

"What do you want now?" he asked.

"I need to go to the bathroom," Mark replied.

"Then go," Hollister replied savoring the moment.

"You have to untie me so I can go to the bathroom," he replied.

"Sorry, you're staying right there," Hollister said, starting to stand.

"But I really need to go. Won't you untie me, please, so I can go?" Mark pleaded, dreading the answer.

"No. You can just piss yourself. You deserve to lie in your own filth," he said with great satisfaction.

Mark started to plead again but Hollister bent down and put the gag back in his mouth. He then walked back over to his chair to watch.

Mark knew he could not wait for long. He tried to for as long as he could. When he could no longer hold it, he had no choice.

Hollister sat and watched while Mark tried to hold it as long as he could. He could see the anguish on Mark's face when he was forced to urinate on himself. He could also see the unshed tears in his eyes.

"There, now you don't have to go," he told him watching as the kid's humiliation deepened.

Mark turned his face as far away from Hollister as he could. He felt so mortified and could feel the tears in his eyes but he was not going to let Hollister see them fall.

00000

Hollister had spent the night watching Mark as he lay on the floor. He knew that the young man hadn't slept much all night. He knew that he was pretending to sleep at the moment, just as he had any time he woke during the night.

Before it got too light out, Hollister decided it was time to go and he wanted McCormick to know that he was going to be all alone. He walked over to him and nudged him with his foot. "I know you're awake, so open your eyes," he said sharply.

Mark slowly obeyed.

Hollister bent down in front of him. "You don't have to worry about me doing anything anymore," he said slapping McCormick hard in the face. "I'm leaving and you'll be here all alone. I've got other matters to attend to."

As Hollister rose to his feet, Mark, thinking the man was going to hurt the judge, tried to struggle but found the pain in his shoulder made that impossible.

Suspecting what was causing the young man's anxiety, Hollister said, "Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere near Judge Hardcastle. The wheels are already in motion and he has already begun to suffer. I don't need to do anything more with him," he said as he packed his things.

Mark waited while Hollister packed his things. He really didn't expect the guy to just leave him there. But when the kidnapper walked out the door and left him lying on the floor, he realized that was just his intention. McCormick listened for a while and when he realized that Hollister was really gone, he relaxed a little. Because he had not slept well all night and the strain from the previous day, he was exhausted and soon fell into a fitful sleep.

00000

Monday morning dawned with temperatures expected to get into the 80's. The judge got up, early as usual. He checked the drive, just in case it had all been a bad dream. But the Coyote was still gone.

He went down to breakfast. Sarah fixed him his favorite, but he ate very little. He walked into the den.

A short while later, Sarah had just brought him a cup of coffee when the phone rang. He grabbed it. She paused to see if it was Mark.

"Hello," he paused. "Frank did you find anything?" he asked.

"Milt, I just got done talking to the boys from the lab about the fingerprints taken from the Gatehouse. They didn't find any prints in the Gatehouse," Frank told him.

"Well, it was worth a shot," the judge said regretfully, turning his chair toward the wall.

"No, Milt. I don't think you understood what I meant. The team found NO prints in the Gatehouse," Frank said letting it sink in.

"None?" Hardcastle asked, hope returning.

"That's right. No prints in the Gatehouse anywhere except yours in the places you said you touched yesterday," he replied, glad to be sharing this news, but also fearful because of it.

"But if McCormick just took off, why would he wipe his prints off everything in the Gatehouse? Unless, HE didn't wipe them off. Frank, I'm coming to the station. This isn't a parolee skipping out, Mark's been kidnapped!" he said.

"Yes, that's what I thought too. Milt, I'm glad I was wrong about him running off," Frank said.

"See you soon," the judge said, turning around and hanging up the phone. He stood and looked over to see Sarah standing there with tears in her eyes.

He walked over to her and put an arm around her. "Sarah, don't worry. It'll be okay. We'll find him," he said trying to comfort her and convince himself.

"Of course, Your Honor," she said and then added, "I almost wish he had run off. At least then he wouldn't be in danger."

"Except from me," he said gruffly, knowing what she meant, and finding himself agreeing with her.

"But he would be safe from whoever has him, and you know as well as I do that you would never hurt him," she replied.

Giving her a gentle hug and then releasing her, he said, "Yeah, Sarah. I know what you mean. Are you going to be okay? I want to go to the station and see if Frank and I can come up with any ideas about who did this and why."

"I'll be fine. You go find that boy and bring him home where he belongs," she replied, as she walked him to the door. "Call me if you hear anything," she said as he turned and opened the door.

"I will and try not to worry," he said as he closed the door.

00000

Mark awoke from his sleep not long after Hollister had left. As he lay thinking about his situation, his thoughts soon turned to what had been on his mind right before he was taken.

He was grumbling as he went about trimming the hedges. He had been living at Gulls-Way for three months and still didn't understand what was expected of him.

The judge told him that they were going to chase the bad guys that had slipped through the cracks. It was his choice--that or prison. Like he had a choice. The judge knew he would do almost anything to stay out of prison.

But every time he questioned this arrangement, he was met with the same answers. "You don't ask questions, just do as I tell you," he muttered to himself, reciting the words he had heard more times than he could count.

He was in a particularly bad mood this morning. He and the judge had had another argument. He didn't mean half of the things he said, but his anger got the better of him. He had cooled down once the judge had left. All that was left over was the frustration at feeling the judge wouldn't listen to his side.

All I'm asking is for my opinion to be considered. I know he doesn't want to be buddies, but if we're going to work together, why can't he listen to my opinion? All I tried to tell him was that the plan he had had too many areas to go wrong. I thought we should try another way, his way was too dangerous. He could get hurt or killed. But why should I care if he gets killed? Why do I? I mean this is the man who sent me away for two years. But still, he could have again and he didn't.

He's not as unfeeling as he acts. I've seen moments when it's almost like he cares. It's moments like that that make it possible to almost like the guy. I know I don't hate him anymore and I do respect him. He has principles, even if they're unbendable. I even like him sometimes. That side that he keeps hidden makes him seem more human. Too bad he can't be like that all the time. It would be nice to have a friend again. Whoa, where did that come from? Friends with Judge Milton C. Hardcastle? I don't know, maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing after all. I miss having someone that cares.

His quit his musings about his feelings for the judge. It just confused him, especially when he thought back over their argument. Trying to put it out of his mind he attempted to concentrate on other things.

Mark knew if he was going to stay out of prison, he had to make the best of this. So he helped Sarah when he could, sometimes without being asked.

That led his thoughts to Sarah. Even if she were mad at him for the way he spoke to the judge, she still wouldn't let him work all day in the hot sun without refreshments. But she wasn't home today to offer him a cool drink while he worked. She was off visiting her sister and wouldn't be home until evening.

Sarah confused him almost as much as the judge. She made it no secret when he first came to Gulls-Way that she didn't feel that he belonged there, especially not in the Gatehouse. But as the weeks passed and he got to know her, he realized that she wasn't cold, just protective of someone she cared about.. He remembered how she said he wasn't the first ex-con to be there and realized she thought he would be like all the others.

He wondered if she would ever feel that protective of him.

He knew her feelings for him had changed. She had been doing little things for him that she didn't have to, like bringing him cool drinks when he worked in the yard. And then two weeks ago, when he was sick, she fussed over him like she really cared.

I just wish it were true he thought to himself.

00000

Judge Hardcastle arrived at the police station. He knew that Frank would be waiting in his office and headed in that direction. He was walking through the office when he noticed several officers staring at him. He heard a few making comments to their partners.

Overhearing a part of one of these comments, he stopped and asked the young man, " Do you have something you want to say to me?"

"No, Your Honor," he replied.

The young officer's partner spoke up. "He may not, but I sure do. McCormick sure made a fool out of you, Judge. Bet you think twice before you take another ex-con in," the officer said, laughing at Hardcastle's expense.

"Well, I see you don't have all the facts," the judge said turning away.

He had walked a few feet when he was approached by another patrolman He remembered seeing this one around the station recently.

"Judge," the young officer started. "For what it's worth, I don't think you're a fool. McCormick seemed like a nice guy from what I saw around here. I don't think he's the type to just take off."

"Thanks Officer Miller," the judge replied, reading the officer's name tag. "Is the Lieutenant in?"

"Yes, he's expecting you," Miller answered.

The judge knocked on the door, and then opened it. Harper waved him in and to a chair.

"How are you doing this morning?" Frank asked.

"I'm okay. I didn't sleep much. Ideas kept going through my head. I just don't understand this. It makes no sense. If they wanted Mark, why take his things? Whoever did this had to want me to think he skipped, but why?" the judge asked, trying to find answers.

"Maybe to discredit you. Were you supposed to testify at any trials that the defendant wanted your statement thrown out?" Frank asked.

"No, I finished up the only case last week. I can't help thinking it's more personal than that," Hardcastle said.

"You mean for revenge?" Frank asked.

"I'm not sure. I get the feeling it's against the both of us. Other than that, I haven't a clue. All I know for certain is that someone took him and all his things so I would think he ran," the judge said.

"Milt, we need to decide what to do. We can go over people that would want to hurt you and Mark," the lieutenant said. "Then we may know what action to take."

"I don't have any ideas on who or why. The only thing I know is we need to find him," the judge replied.

"The APB is still out on him and the car. We could leave them active. It's all we have to go on right now until we get more information," Frank said.

"I know," the judge replied.

The judge stayed at the station to continue to discuss the situation. He and Frank spent the rest of the morning and afternoon going over the cases that he and Mark had worked on. They discussed people who might have grudges to see if they thought any of them might be behind this.

While the judge was at the station he called the Parole Board and informed them of the change in the case, that it was a kidnapping instead of a parole violation. He wanted that taken care of so McCormick wouldn't have to worry about the Parole Board once he was found.

00000

Upon leaving Mark in the trailer, Hollister walked down the road and caught a cab. He took the cab home. He took a shower and went to bed to take a nap. He would meet with Potter later this afternoon and settle up with him.

Later that afternoon, Hollister drove to Potter's place. Looking around the living room, he noticed Mark's things. The other man followed his gaze and said, "You said he wouldn't need those things anymore and I could have them."

"Yes, I did, and he doesn't need them anymore," Hollister replied. "Here's your money," he said tossing him a thick envelope onto the table.. While Potter was busy counting his money, Hollister removed the gun he had concealed in his belt. Before the other man could react, he shot him twice in the chest.

Removing the silencer from his gun, and putting it and the gun in his pocket, Hollister walked over to his dead associate's body. He bent down and picked up his money. "Now I don't have to worry about your big mouth giving me away," he said as he prepared to leave the apartment. Using his handkerchief, he locked the door and pulled it closed.

"Now to get the car. That will be my treasure. A reminder of the lesson I taught that young punk," he said as he walked to the curb. He got into his truck and pulled out into traffic. He drove the truck to where the Coyote was hidden.

00000

Mark awoke to find the room lit well enough that he could see his surroundings. He looked around slowly at what he could see without moving much.

"Wait, I've seen this place before," he thought. He closed his eyes to clear his head. "Oh my God, I'm in the gardener's trailer at Gulls-Way," he said as realization hit him.

It was hot in the trailer. It was closed up with no windows open to allow any breeze. He was sweaty and uncomfortable from the heat. He was so thirsty and hungry that he could hardly concentrate on anything else.

His mind ran away with him as he tried to figure out how to get loose or get the judge's attention.

He tried to slowly move to loosen the ropes. He found that even the slightest movement sent pain stabbing through him. His left shoulder was extremely tender as well as his head and ribs. His arms and legs were almost numb, making his hands almost useless. He realized that his only hope was that the judge would find him.

He told himself that by now the judge would know he didn't run. He had to believe that. Because if the judge believed something had happened to him, he wouldn't stop looking. The judge was his only chance.

Please, Judge, please know that I wouldn't take off. I gave my word. Please find me Judge. I'm scared" he pleaded as if he could wish it so.

00000

Frank and the judge returned to Gulls-Way in early evening.

Sarah came out when she saw the car pull up. "Did you find him?" she asked.

"No, Sarah," the judge replied. "But we're not giving up."

"Well, I have dinner ready. Why don't you come two come in and eat," she said as she walked back into the house.

Sure, Sarah. Frank, come on in," the judge said.

"Let me call Claudia and let her know what is going on and that I'll be here for a while," Frank said as he followed the judge into the house. He went into the den and made his phone call. He then joined the judge in the dining room.

Sarah put supper on the table and everyone sat down to eat. They had just finished when the phone rang.

The judge walked into the den and answered it.

"Hello," the judge said and listened for a moment. After a moment he called out, "Frank, you're wanted on the phone!"

Frank went into the den. The judge handed him the phone and stepped to the side so he could hear what was being said.

"Lt. Harper here," he said and then listened. After a few moments he said, "When?" He listened a while longer and then said, "Okay, I'll be there in a little while." he hung up the phone and turned to the judge. "That was Officer Jansen. We need to go to the station. They found the Coyote. I'll fill you in on the way," he told him.

The judge told Sarah where he was going and then he and Frank left for the police station.

00000

On the drive to the station, Frank gave the judge the information the officer had given him about finding the Coyote. He told him about the car being spotted and the resulting chase. He looked at the judge and seeing his look replied, "No, Milt, Mark wasn't with him. When questioned about Mark and about how he got the car, he said he would talk to you and no one else. His name is James Hollister. Have you heard of him?"

"James Hollister? No the name isn't familiar…Wait, isn't that the cop who was fired for abusing suspects and witnesses?" the judge asked.

"Yes, I remember his case. He wasn't from my department," Frank said.

"I've never had any contact with him. He was never in my courtroom. Why would he do this?" the judge asked confused by the turn of events.

"I guess we'll find out when we talk to him," Frank responded.

00000

Frank and the judge arrived at the police station and went to Central Holding.

"Which room is Hollister in?" the lieutenant asked.

"He's in Interrogation Room 3," the clerk replied.

"Has he been processed and made his phone call?" Frank asked.

"Yes, his attorney is here and with him now. He has been charged with GTA," the clerk stated.

"There may be more charges added to that list," the lieutenant stated. Turning to the judge he said, "Let's go see what he has to say, Milt."

The two men walked to the interrogation room. As they approached the room, they could hear raised voices and upon entering heard the lawyer saying, "I don't think that is wise, James. I think you should keep quiet and let me do the talking."

"You're only here because I have the right to have you here. I'll handle this my way," Hollister said. Seeing Frank and the judge entering, he turned his attention to them.

"Well, if it isn't the mighty Judge Hardcastle, only you aren't so mighty now, are you? Tell me, did you find your ex-con yet?" he said with a certain amount of satisfaction.

The judge's anger rose and he started to advance across the room. He stopped when Harper placed a restraining hand on his arm.

The lieutenant informed Hollister that anything he said could be used against him as evidence in court. Hollister's response was that he had nothing to hide so that didn't matter to him. The lawyer tried to get him to reconsider and Hollister told him to shut up again.

You wanted to talk to me," the judge replied, barely holding his temper. "Why did you do this? What did you hope to accomplish? You couldn't have possibly thought you would get away with this."

"Why? Because you both needed to learn a lesson. And look how the mighty has fallen. Where before you were viewed with respect, now you are just some old fool. You had great plans for your retirement project and they now lie shattered at your feet. Even now, when the police know what really happened, they don't still see you with the same high regard they once did," Hollister said, waiting for the judge's reaction.

Seeing that the judge was not going to respond, Hollister continued, "You are a judge. You should have known that he was trouble. But you take him in and treat him like he deserves to live in that big, fancy house. By doing so, he thinks he's more than the filth that he is. I spent years cleaning the streets of his kind and someone like you treats him like he's better than he is. And yet, look how much YOU trust him! You may have figured it now, but when you noticed him and his things gone, you wasted no time reporting him missing and getting an APB on him. Hollister sat back, relishing the look on the judge's face as he realized how true those last words were.

"That was just gut reaction. I really knew that he hadn't taken off," the judge replied.

"Yes, but you did doubt him, even if only for a moment. He said you wouldn't believe it. He said he knew you would know he wouldn't run, because he had promised and that you knew he wouldn't go back on his word. But don't you worry, I set him straight," Hollister continued.

"What do you mean? What did you do?" the judge asked, fearing the answer.

"I let him hear the APB broadcast on the police radio. You should have seen his face when he realized you didn't trust him. He wanted to deny that you had lost faith in him, but he couldn't deny what he had heard," Hollister said laughing.

"No," the judge replied, regretting his doubt and the anguish he knew it had caused Mark. "I never lost faith in him. Even during those moments of doubt, I never really believed that he had skipped. The APB was following procedure," the judge said.

"It may have been, but he doesn't know that. All he knows is that you no longer believe in him. As for getting away with this, that was never my intention. Even if I go to prison, knowing that the two of you learned your lesson makes it all worth it," Hollister responded

"Did you kill him? Is he dead?" the judge asked.

"No, he's not dead, YET. He hasn't suffered enough. He will be dead before you ever find him and his death will be slow and painful," Hollister said getting joy from the judge's anguish.

"Where's McCormick?" the judge demanded.

"Someplace you'll never find him," Hollister replied, savoring the moment.

"Where is he?" the judge yelled as he grabbed Hollister by the shirt and pulled him to his feet.

"Milt! Don't!" Frank yelled, coming forward and pulling the judge's hands from the prisoner's clothes. He then moved Hardcastle back a few feet.

Hollister made a show of straightening his shirt and smiled at the judge's distress. "He's somewhere you'll never think to look."

The judge tried to control his temper. "I'm okay, Frank. You can let go of me now," he told the lieutenant. Frank slowly released him.

Hollister looked the judge straight in the eye and said, "I have nothing else to say."

00000

Realizing that Hollister wasn't going to help them, Frank and the judge left him with his lawyer. Deciding that there wasn't much to do right now except to keep searching, Harper drove the judge back to Gulls-Way. On the way, Frank said, "I'll check with some of my contacts on the street and see if they have heard anything. We'll keep looking for Mark, Milt."

"I know. I'm gonna stick close to the house in case he happens to phone. If you find anything call me." He sighed unhappily. "Frank, I don't think we have much time," the judge said unable to keep his concern and fear from his voice.

"You really like this kid, don't you?" Frank asked.

"Yes, he seems to grow on you after a while. Besides he's a good kid. He may have made some mistakes, but he deserved a chance. We've got to find him. He has to know that I still believe in him," the judge said, his voice trailing off.

"We will," Frank told him, pulling into the drive. "I'm going to go home and I'll talk to you tomorrow."

00000

The judge told Frank goodnight and watched him pull out of the drive.

So as not to disturb Sarah, he quietly entered the house and walked into the den.

Sarah, hearing the door close, came to see if there was any news. "Your Honor," she started to say, stopping at the look on the judge's face.

"The man that took Mark is named James Hollister. McCormick wasn't with him and he wouldn't tell me where he was. He did say that the kid's alive," he said. He didn't tell the rest of what Hollister told him.

"But where is he?" she started before she broke down in tears.

The judge went to her and comforted her the best he could. "I don't know, but we are going to find him," he told her.

She sniffed, and said, "He's not like the others. He's a good boy and now he's out there all alone. He could be hurt or sick and he's probably scared. You have to find him. He needs to come home where he belongs." She regained her composure, and pulled away quietly from the judge's arms. "Thank you, Your Honor."

"It's okay. I know you're worried about Mark. I am too. We're not gonna quit searching until we find him," he reassured her.

"Do you want some coffee or something to drink?" she asked trying to get their minds off their worries.

"No, I think I'll just go over some things here in the den. Why don't you go to bed and get some rest," he coaxed.

"I could suggest the same for you. I know you didn't sleep well last night," she replied.

"I will in just a little while. You go on ahead. I'll see you in the morning," he said walking to his desk.

"Okay, Your Honor," she said as she left the den.

The judge sat at his desk and tried to think about what Hollister had said. He felt there had to be some clue in what he mentioned that would lead to where Mark was.

Then his thoughts turned to the young man himself. "We'll find you kid. You're gonna be okay," he said aloud--trying to reassure himself.

He sat for a while and then went up to bed. Sleep was a long time coming.

00000

Mark awoke with a start. All day he had tried to ignore his hunger and thirst, but both were so strong. His thirst was becoming worse than his hunger and made it difficult to concentrate on anything else. His arms and legs were sore from their extended time in their current position.

He tried to determine what had awakened him. There was no moonlight coming through the windows and it was so dark in the trailer that he could hardly see anything. Although he wasn't afraid of the dark, he had never really liked it. He was reminded of prison here. It was dark and no matter how badly he wanted to, he couldn't leave. He could hear small sounds from outside but couldn't tell what they were. His mind was muddled so from pain and his thirst that he couldn't concentrate enough to know what the sounds were.

He silently pleaded for help. "Please Judge, come get me. I don't like it here. It's so dark and I hurt. I'm scared, Judge. Please come get me." His eyes filled with tears and he let them fall until exhaustion claimed him once again.

00000

Tuesday dawned with sunshine and pleasant temperatures. It was expected to be another warm day.

The judge woke up at his usual time and got up. He got dressed and went down for breakfast.

Sarah had breakfast ready when he walked into the kitchen. She sat his plate in front of him as he sat down. He ate very little breakfast as he had no appetite. Sarah asked him questions about the man who had taken Mark, and the judge told her the basics, with as little as possible about the reasons behind it.

After he had breakfast, the judge walked into the den. He knew Frank would have called if there was any news, but he needed to do something. So he called Frank and was told the Coyote had been checked for prints, but the only ones in it were Hollister's.

He tried to occupy himself with organizing his files while Sarah cleaned the already spotless house. They were both trying to keep busy so they wouldn't have time to think.

After a few hours of aimless activity, Sarah prepared his lunch and brought it in to him.

"I'm not hungry, Sarah," he said as she placed the food in front of him.

"I know that you are worried and that you don't want to eat, but you need to. You have to keep up your strength. If Mark is hurt…" She paused when she started to choke up. Calming herself, she said, "If Mark is hurt, he is going to need you to help him get better.

"Have you eaten lunch yet, Sarah?" he asked.

"No, mine is in the kitchen. My job is to take care of you and I am going to do so. I will eat as soon as I know you are," she answered.

"Sarah, what you said about me taking care of myself also applies to you. If he does need care, I'm gonna need your help. You know how I am when it comes to caring for the sick," he replied. "I tell you what, why don't I bring my lunch in the kitchen and we'll eat together. I never thought I would miss the noise that kid creates, but I got kind of used to it. Now that he's not here, it's too quiet."

"Yes, I know what you mean," Sarah said.

Picking up his plate, he followed her into the kitchen. They ate their meal quietly, each lost in their own thoughts.

Sarah waited until the judge was finished eating to ask the questions she still had about Mark's kidnapping. She didn't understand some of the things the judge had told her before and thought maybe there were things he had left out. "Why did this Hollister take Mark? What did Mark do to him that made him so angry?" she asked.

"Sarah, Mark did nothing to cause this. He has never seen the man before," the judge said hoping to be able to skirt around the more distressing questions.

"If Mark didn't do anything to him, them why did he do this?" she asked trying to make sense of the situation.

Hardcastle sighed. "Actually, there are several reasons. Hollister was a police officer who was fired last year for abusing suspects and witnesses, especially ex-cons. He didn't agree with my taking Mark into my home, and felt that by offering Mark a chance to get his life in order I was giving him something he didn't deserve. He also wanted me to lose face. He felt that if everyone thought Mark ran, I would look like a fool and be a laughing stock of the legal community. He even wanted Mark to think I believed he was guilty of breaking his parole, and had him listen to the APB broadcast to make the kid feel betrayed and abandoned. I guess he decided that he would teach us both a lesson about trusting people." And I sure fell into his trap, didn't I? If I hadn't been so strict and unfriendly to the kid this may not have happened, he thought.

Sarah, knowing the judge for many years, knew the direction his thoughts had taken. "It is not your fault. You wanted to help that boy. If it weren't for you, he'd be back in prison," she said.

"Maybe he'd be better off there. At least this wouldn't have happened to him," the judge replied, hating that he had put Mark at risk.

"You know that's not true. You've heard Mark say just as I have that he would do just about anything to keep from going back. He said that he couldn't survive in there again. He wouldn't want you blaming yourself for this. This man obviously doesn't like ex-cons or your arrangement. That man is the one to blame, not you or Mark," she said, trying to ease his mind.

"Thanks, Sarah," the judge said gratefully.

"Your Honor," Sarah started slowly. "He didn't kill Mark, did he? I mean if he had killed him, you would tell me, wouldn't you?" she asked, tears filling her eyes.

"Oh, Sarah, of course I would tell you. I would not hide that from you. He told me that Mark is alive. He would not tell me where he is, but we will find him," he assured her, and patted her hand to offer her some comfort.

"I know you will," she said.

The judge went back to the den and spent the afternoon going through his files. He also tried to figure out where McCormick could be.

00000

Mark drifted and out of consciousness all day. The trailer was getting hotter, and it was getting harder and harder to concentrate and stay awake. When he was awake he tried to bite down on the gag. He hoped that if he could get it off, he could call out for help. His mouth was so dry that the cloth kept sticking to it. He couldn't tell if he was making progress but he kept at it.

He tried not to think of how thirsty he was. The feelings of hunger had faded until now there was almost none. At least by not drinking he was no longer forced to urinate on himself. Every time he had done so he would remember the joy Hollister took at his pain. He tried not to think about that as it made him feel so humiliated. Because of his position, the pain in his ribs and shoulder was almost constant. He tried to move into another position to alleviate it, but any movement made it unbearable.

In early afternoon, he awoke confused and disoriented. He could not remember where he was. As his mind cleared and he remembered, he wondered why the judge hadn't found him yet.

"I threatened to skip out. Maybe Hollister was right. Maybe the judge still thinks I ran and he isn't looking for me. The police will never find me here," he thought feelings of fear starting to overwhelm him. "I don't want to die. Please Judge, don't leave me to die. Please, I'm here. Don't leave me here all alone. I don't want to be alone anymore. I was beginning to feel like I belonged with you Judge. I'm scared here all alone," he thought as he broke down. Due to his dehydrated state, very few tears were left.

00000

Around 3:30 that afternoon, Frank pulled into the drive at Gulls-Way as the judge was checking the oil in the truck. Seeing him drive up, the judge closed the hood and walked over to Frank's car. Surprisingly, Frank didn't get out of the car which had concerned the judge.

"One of my contacts gave me some information that may help find Mark. Get in and we'll check it out. I'll fill you in on the way," Frank said through his window.

"Let me go tell Sarah I'm leaving," the judge said, turning toward the door. After advising her he was leaving to check out some new information and he would call if they found McCormick, he went back out and got into Frank's car.

As they were driving along the highway, Frank filled him in what his informant had told him. "My contact told me that Sunday night in one of the bars, a man named Jack Potter was bragging about how he and a friend had kidnapped a man from Malibu. Jack is local muscle that has been suspected of several dirty dealings but no evidence has ever been found to connect him to anything. This type of thing would be just his usual sort of work."

Frank waited to see if the judge had anything to say. When the judge didn't respond, he continued. "My source said that Potter told everyone that they attacked the man and took him and all his things from his house. He said it was really his buddy's plan. He wanted it to look like the guy just left. My contact said Potter was pretty drunk, so he thought he was just spreading tales. He forgot all about it until I asked him today."

"Do you know where Potter is?" the judge asked. "Did he say where McCormick is?"

"No, Potter said he took the car and the other stuff and his friend took the man. But he may still know where Mark was taken. I have his address and we'll check it out." Frank said.

"I hope he can help us. We're running out of time," the judge said, not even trying to hide his concern.

Frank didn't comment. He knew that their time was getting short. As he drove his thoughts turned to his friend and the missing young man.

He was concerned for his friend. The young ex-con had managed to get closer to the judge in three months than some people had in years. After losing his wife and son, the judge had held himself away from others, not letting them get close.

But Mark had still gotten close without trying. At first, it might have been to loosen the reins the judge had on him. But even Frank could see that the judge was beginning to mean something to the young man as well.

Frank had concerns at first about Mark hurting the judge as the other ex-cons had. But as he watched their relationship grow into friendship, he realized the young man respected the judge and would not hurt him. They might argue like no two other people he had ever seen, but there was a lot of admiration and affection on both sides.

Frank was concerned that if they did not find Mark in time, that the judge might not recover from that loss. He feared that he would rebuild that wall around his heart that Mark had torn down. He might go on living but it would not be living like he had been since Mark came to Gulls-Way.

Frank's thoughts then turned to how the young man had proven himself during the cases he had worked on with the judge. He had protected the judge's back just as he was supposed to. He had helped him out a few times on cases for the police department. He was a good kid and Frank had begun to like him also. Frank had first found himself liking him for what he did for the judge, but now it was because of who he was. He sure hoped they found him before it was too late.

00000

As Frank pulled the car over to the curb, he said, "There's Potter's house--that one with the green door."

Getting out of the car, the two approached the entrance.

Frank knocked on the door. Getting no response, he called out, "Open up! Police!"

"Maybe he's not here," the judge said.

"No, that's his car in the driveway. I checked it against the information I got at the station," he told the judge. "Open up!" he yelled again. Again there was no response.

"I'm going in," the judge said as he proceeded to force the door open.

"Let's see if he's here," the lieutenant said as they entered the house. They had checked the kitchen and were entering the living room when they first saw the boxes on the left.

Taking a few steps toward them, the judge saw the body on the floor. "Frank, over here!" he called out.

Frank knelt next to the body and checked for a pulse. "It's Potter, Milt, and he's dead," he said after not finding any heartbeat.

"Damn," said the judge. "I was hoping he could tell us where the kid was."

"So was I," Frank replied. He got up and went to the phone to call the coroner and a crime scene investigation team. Once he hung up he turned to the judge to find him looking at the boxes on the floor. He walked over.

"These are Mark's things. That proves he was involved but doesn't help find where he is," the judge said, trying to keep control of his emotions.

"We'll have to take the stuff to the station for prints. After that you can take it back to Gulls-Way. The lab is done with the Coyote, so you can take it home also," Frank said.

"Yeah, okay," Hardcastle said as he went to pick up a box.

"No, we need to let the crime team take them. We'll follow them in my car," Frank said.

"There has to be something I can do. I keep feeling like there's some clue I missed," the jurist muttered, his frustration very evident.

"We'll find him," Frank said.

"Before it's too late?" Hardcastle asked, losing hope. He knew that they were in a race against time and he didn't have any idea how much time they had left. He was beginning to fear that they were going to be too late.

"I hope so, I really do. We'll keep looking. It's all we can do," Frank said, not wanting to lie to his friend.

"Frank, I know he's only been at Gulls-Way for three months, but there's something about him. I was going to stay unattached. It was going to be strictly business. But somehow, that kid's smart mouth and quick wit made me forget that. By the time I remembered it was too late, I already cared," he started to say.

Frank just let him talk. It was rare for him to talk about his feelings like this and maybe he needed to express these feelings to understand them.

"He's a good kid. He's not as tough as he tries to make you believe he is. Once I figured out his act, it was easy to understand his behavior. He doesn't do it to be troublesome, but to protect himself. In this manner he is a lot like me. If he's tough and unlikable, no one will like him. If no one likes him, he won't get hurt when they decide they don't want him any more. But the tough façade falls away sometimes and you can see the kid that needs someone. I found myself drawn to that side of him. It is who he really is--not the tough, smart-mouthed kid he shows on the outside," the judge said, allowing himself to express what he could not before.

Frank still remained silent so as not to embarrass the judge by commenting on what he had said. He also understood what the judge meant about the young man. The person he showed the world hid the kid that wanted and needed acceptance.

The judge realizing what he had been saying, went on to declare, "He deserved a chance to straighten his life out. He was doing well. I'm gonna find him and make sure he still gets it."

00000

The crime scene investigation team arrived and gathered the evidence from the scene. The coroner arrived and removed the body.

The judge and Frank followed the team back to the police station. Frank informed them that all the items of Mark's were to be checked for print and then returned to the boxes. Once they were done they were to tell him, then he and the judge would pick up the items.

Frank and the judge went to Harper's office. The lieutenant called the impound to have the Coyote cleared, and brought to the parking lot with the necessary papers for its release brought to him.

The judge then used Frank's phone to call Sarah and let her know they didn't have any new information. He told her they had found Mark's things that had been taken from the Gatehouse, and that he would be bringing the car and belongings home that evening. Sarah tried to control her growing concern, but he could tell she was upset when he hung up.

The two men sat in mostly silence as they waited for the crime lab to be done with Mark's things. Frank called to the local deli that delivered to the station and had sandwiches sent over.

When the sandwiches arrived, he gave one to the judge telling him, "Here, eat. You haven't eaten since I picked you up and it's been hours."

"I'm not very hungry," the judge replied.

"Well, I am," Frank said as he took a bite of his sandwich. "You might as well eat yours since we have to wait anyway."

"Yeah, I guess so," Hardcastle replied, opening his sandwich.

They ate their sandwiches and continued to wait. A little later, the guard from the impound brought the paperwork for the Coyote's release. A half hour later, the lab called to say they were done with Mark's things.

Frank and the judge went to the lab to get McCormick's belongings. The lab told them that they didn't find Mark's prints on any the items. The only prints they found were Jack Potter's and those were on the boxes.

"He must have wiped them clean also," Frank said. "I'll help you get these things to the car. We can put some in mine as well, since the Coyote doesn't have much extra room.

As they carried the boxes out to the cars, the judge said quietly, "I never realized how little stuff the kid has. Imagine everything he owns packed up in five boxes." He became lost in thought--considering something new to his conception of McCormick's past life--a period of time he had never dwelled on much in his mind before.

After loading the cars, they drove to Gulls-Way. When they arrived, they unloaded the boxes and put them in the Gatehouse. Then judge invited Frank in for coffee. The lieutenant declined and said he was going home. He had left instructions that if anyone came up with anything, he was to be notified. He told the judge he would call him as soon as he heard anything.

The judge watched as Frank left. He then turned and entered the house.

Sarah met him as he came in. "Did you have anything to eat, Your Honor?" she asked

"Yes, Frank and I had sandwiches in his office while we were waiting for the lab to finish with Mark's things," he said.

"Would you like some coffee or something else to eat?" she asked.

"No, I'm fine, Sarah," he answered, and watched her walk back to the kitchen. He then walked to the den, and tried to keep his mind off the possibility that he would not find Mark in time. H e concentrated on what they knew, and tried to think of where he might be.

the kitchen.

The judge walked into the den. He tried to keep his mind off the possibility that he would not find Mark in time and concentrated on where he might be.

"Hollister said he let Mark hear the APB and he told him how I didn't believe in him. He can't die thinking that's true. I've got to find him. I've got to tell him that I still believe in him, that I never stopped. He has to know that I never doubted him. I may have initially had doubts, but I never really believed he had skipped," he thought to himself.

The judge went to bed later and tried to sleep. His rest was interrupted by dreams where he didn't discover Mark until it was too late. "It's not going to end that way," he said aloud. "I'll find you, kid."

00000

Mark was having more and more difficulty staying awake. He was becoming lightheaded and dizzy, even though he was lying down. His thirst was still great. He was extremely hot, but had quit sweating a long time ago. He didn't think he could hold out much longer—it was just becoming too hard.

As he tried to think of ways to attract attention, his thoughts turned to Hardcastle.

"I'm sorry, Judge. I never wanted you to think I would take off. You have given me a chance and I wanted it to work. I may not have always seemed like I cared, but I did want to make something better out of my life.

You trusted me to drive back on my own from Vegas right after we caught Martin Cody. I can't explain how good that made me feel. I never would have done anything to break that trust and now I'm afraid I won't get to show you.

I may have started out hating you but it quickly changed to respect. I found a friend in the last place I would have thought possible. I was beginning to see that I could amount to something. I found something I lost a long time ago – a home and a family.

I'm not giving up. I know you are searching. I'll hold on as long as I can. I just don't know if I can much longer, so please hurry, Judge," he thought as he continued to try and loosen the gag.

He worked to try and loosen his gag as long as he remained conscious. He couldn't tell if he was making any progress, but he had to do something. After a few minutes of hard effort, he was exhausted. His last thought as he drifted off again was, "Please find me Judge. I need you."

00000

After being awakened by the dream again, the judge gave up trying to sleep and got up. It was still early and he decided maybe some basketball would help.

He had been shooting baskets for a while when he thought, "Now's about the time McCormick would come out complaining about being woke up at this ungodly hour. How I wish this was the nightmare and you would come out of the Gatehouse complaining right now." He threw the ball toward the hoop, then rebounded it and tossed it up again--harder as the frustration over the situation mounted in his mind. He dribbled and slammed the ball against the backboard, then grabbed it and fired another shot through the net. He stopped to take a breather, willing his brain to calm itself of the anger and despair filling it. The sun's first rays lit up the hills behind him as he finally put the ball away and headed back to the house.

After the judge took a shower and got dressed , he went down to breakfast, then told Sarah he was going to take a walk on the beach. "If Frank calls, yell for me. I'm not going far," he said as he rose from his chair. Stopping in the doorway, he added," When I get back, I'm gonna put Mark's things away in the Gatehouse."

"I'll help you," Sarah offered.

"I can do it. You don't have to help," he said.

"I know, but I want to. You and the lieutenant have been busy trying to find him and I haven't been able to do anything to help," she said.

"Sarah, you have helped. You've taken care of me and you never gave up on him," the judge replied trying to assure her of her part in this.

"I know, but most of that is my job. He earned my faith in him. The least I can do is help put his things away for when he comes home. Unless you'd rather do it alone," she said.

"Of course you can help, Sarah," he replied realizing how important it was to her.

"Thanks, Your Honor," she said as she started to clear the table. Looking at the food in the bowls she said, "If Mark were here, there wouldn't be any left over. I kind of got used to cooking for him as well and keep making too much."

"That's okay," he replied. "It'll keep you in practice for when he comes home. I'll be back in a short while and we'll put his things away."

"Okay," she replied and watched him head to the door. Before he left, she asked, "Would you bring his clothes in the laundry room? I want to wash them before we put them away." The housekeeper remembered that Mark had washed his clothes the day before he was kidnapped, but she wanted to wash them again, as if it would remove any evil tainting his clothing from the men who touched them.

"Sure," Hardcastle responded. After piling the clothes on the washer. the judge walked down to the beach and watched the ocean. "Mark comes down here when he needs to think, so I'll see if it helps me." he thought as he stood watching the waves.

The judge about everything that Hollister had told him. He knew that the ex-cop had planned for him to think Mark skipped. He believed Hollister had wanted to get caught so he could rub it in about doing this. Hardcastle was supposed to find Mark, just not before he died. That meant he had to be somewhere that the judge would go at some point. Now all he had to do was figure out where that was.

He thought about this a while longer and was still no closer to the answer. When he talked to Frank later, he would mention his thoughts from this morning and see if Harper had any suggestions.

00000

While the judge was on the beach, Sarah started the laundry, and sat down and waited for the judge to return. She thought about how life had changed since the young ex-con had come to Gulls-Way. "I can't believe that it's only been three months. Mark has made such a place for himself here that it seems as if he's been here longer. He has become a valuable part of the Judge's life, both professionally and personally. He has proven himself a great help to the Judge. He has helped him catch some of the criminals he is after. And he has also brought joy back to the Judge. I haven't seen him so vibrant since Mrs. Hardcastle passed away.

I pray that they find him in time. I don't even want to think of how the Judge will handle the loss if they don't. I've grown quite fond of him myself in the short time he has been here and if he dies…No, I'm not going to think that way. I know that the Judge and the police will find him soon."

Shaking herself from her thoughts she went to check on the washing machine. It was done and she had just put those clothes in the dryer and a second load in the washer when the judge came back from the beach.

Sarah and the judge went to put Mark's things away while his clothes washed. Sarah also noticed for the first time the small amount of belongings McCormick could call his own, not knowing that this realization had just recently come to the jurist as well.

They had been working for a few minutes when Sarah came across a picture of Mark standing by the Coyote, sponge in hand. They both stopped and looked at the picture,

"I remember when this was taken," Sarah said, and then went on. "It was that first weekend Mark was here. You had just caught that awful Martin Cody. I had pictures from my vacation that I wanted to get developed. There was one picture left on the roll of film so I snapped this one of Mark while he was washing the car. When I got the photos back, I decided to give the picture to him. I figured he'd stick it in an album, but never that he'd put it in a frame and on his mantle," she said smiling at the memory.

"I remember that also. He asked me if I had a frame. I didn't know what he wanted it for, but he showed me after he put the snapshot in it," the judge said. "He said nobody took his picture like that before. I asked him what he meant and he said the only time he's really had his picture taken was for mug shots or racing magazines. No one took it just because he was there and they wanted to," he went on to say.

Sarah asked, "But what about his parents?"

"I asked him and he said his mother was too busy working two jobs to feed and clothe him. Then she died when he was twelve. He lived with an uncle for a short while until he was removed by Social Services because his uncle beat him. He said he never fit in at the foster homes and they always sent him away," the judge explained.

"What about his father?" she asked.

"He didn't mention him and when I asked, he withdrew. I knew better than to push," he said.

"I guess once we get him back, we'll have to make sure to take more pictures. It takes so little to make him happy," she said as she placed the picture back on the mantle where it belonged.

"Yes, we will," the judge replied.

After they finished, they went back to the main house. Sarah stopped by the garage to check on the laundry, then began to prepare lunch. Once it was ready, Sarah and the judge went to the kitchen to eat. When that was done, Sarah got her grocery list ready for her weekly trip to the market. Not sure if she should leave the judge alone, she asked "Do you want me to go ahead and go to the store? I can wait until tomorrow or Friday if you think I should."

"No go ahead and go today. There is no reason to change your routine. I'm gonna be here so if anything turns up, Frank can reach me. If anything turns up while you're gone, I'll leave a note to let you know," he told her.

"Well, okay. I should be back in time to fix dinner," she said as she headed out to the truck. "I think the dryer ought to be finished up with that load. Could you put them in the Gatehouse for me?"

"Okay," the judge replied and went to do so.

00000

Mark regained consciousness, and knew that that his situation was really bad. His head hurt and he was so lightheaded, he couldn't focus his eyes. His body ached everywhere. He didn't know if it was from injuries or from the extended time in one position. The trailer was becoming hot again, and he was so very thirsty. As his mind registered these facts, he became very scared.

"Where are you Judge? I need you. No one else wanted me. You wanted me, even if it was just to be Tonto. I still belonged somewhere. I found myself liking you and hoped that you might want me for more than Tonto. You were someone I could count on and because of that, it became important that you could count on me.

"I've been alone so long that I've been scared to let anyone close. Suddenly I was stuck with the last person I wanted to be near. But then one day, I realized I liked it here. This was home and you were my friend.

Please come soon. I know you're looking, but I'm getting really scared. It's so quiet and at night it's so dark. Please hurry Judge," he thought as he waited.

He tried to listen for sounds that would mean help was coming but he soon lost consciousness again.

00000

The judge had been sitting in the den, not paying attention to anything when he heard a car pull up the drive. He looked out the window and saw that it was Frank. He went and met him at the door.

"Good afternoon, Frank. Have you found anything?" the judge asked.

"Sorry, Milt, we haven't found anything yet. At least not anything we can connect to Mark's disappearance," Frank said. Seeing the judge's questioning look, he continued. "An abandoned truck was found in a driveway about two miles from here. But the truck and plates were stolen. There were no prints in the truck."

They walked into the den and sat down.

"Do you think it's connected?" the judge asked, wanting his friend's opinion.

"It could be. The couple that lived at the house were out of town. They got home last night and found the truck in the drive. I spoke to them this morning. They said they had been out of town for the past two weeks. They forgot to stop their newspapers so they were lying on the lawn. If it were Hollister, he could have seen the papers and knew it was a good place to hide the truck," he explained.

"Yes, but if he took Mark in that truck, and left the truck there, where did he take Mark." the judge asked.

"He must have had his car there and drove Mark there in the truck," Frank replied.

The judge thought that over and considered what Hollister had said at the police station about where Mark was. "Unless he didn't take him anywhere," he said starting to rise from his chair.

"What are you thinking?" Frank asked, not sure if he understood what the judge meant.

"Think about it. What would be the last place you'd look for someone who was missing? Hollister said Mark was someplace I wouldn't consider looking," Hardcastle said.

"You think he left Mark here at Gulls-Way?" Harper asked, first shocked at the thought, then realized it did make sense.

"Well, I would never would have thought of it except that Hollister said it was someplace I wouldn't think to look," the judge replied as he started out the door with the cop close behind.

Hardcastle walked out on the front porch and stopped, his eyes searching from left to right as he scanned the grounds and considered the situation. "I know he's not here in the house or in the Gatehouse. Maybe out back near the…," he stopped as a thought came to him. "Frank, the gardener's trailer!" he said as he took off across the lawn.

The lieutenant followed and caught up with him as they ran. "You could be right. It would be the perfect. Far enough from the house and the neighbors that he could not be heard."

00000

Mark had regained consciousness but was not able to focus his thoughts well. He felt so hot and he wanted some water so badly. He hadn't gotten the gag off and he had no strength left to try.

His head hurt and he couldn't stand to move it. He was trying to stay conscious but felt dizzy and faint He was slipping away into darkness when he thought he heard a noise from outside. Forcing himself to concentrate, he listened and heard it again. It sounded like footsteps coming closer. Oh, please don't let it be Hollister coming back to get me. Please be the Judge. Please let him find me, h thought in desperation. He tried to move to attract attention but he was so weak and sore that he could not move. The footsteps kept coming and then he heard the one voice he had been longing to hear.

"McCormick! Are you in there?" the judge yelled as he came the last few feet to the trailer door.

Mark couldn't respond but pleaded with his mind, Please open the door. Please look in here. I can't call out, Judge. Please don't leave me. Just when his fear that the judge would leave after hearing no sounds from within nearly overwhelmed him, he heard the door open and someone step inside.

The judge stepped into the trailer and was assaulted by the smell of sweat and human waste. He stepped further into the trailer, and was chilled by the sight of Mark lying on his right side, tightly bound and gagged. "Oh, my God, McCormick!" he yelled as he quickly approached, and bent by the bound man. He reached out to touch Mark's neck to check for a pulse. He let out the breath he was holding when he found one. It was weak, but it was there.

"Frank! He's here! He's alive, but he's in bad shape! Call an ambulance!" the judge yelled as he tried to loosen the ropes.

As Hardcastle touched the ropes on Mark's hands, McCormick let out a groan. "You're gonna be okay, kid. Just hang in there. Help's on the way," he said.

The judge tried to loosen the ropes, but they were pulled tight from Mark's struggles and sweat that had caused the ropes to shrink. He untied the gag and gently started to remove it from his mouth. The kid's mouth was so dry that the gag had stuck in places and had to be slowly removed. Hardcastle finally got it out and threw it away.

Mark moaned again and tried to turn his head to see the judge's face. "Don't move, kiddo. I don't know how bad you're hurt," the judge warned him.

"Judge," Mark tried to say, but his mouth and throat were so dry it came out as little more than a croak.

"Don't try to talk," the older man admonished gently.

"I didn't run, Judge," he forced out, determined to let Hardcastle know.

"That's kind of obvious given your current state, kiddo," the judge remarked with a chuckle, sitting down on the floor next to Mark. "I know youdidn't. Now keep quiet and relax. Help will be here soon." Seeing Mark's eyes begin to droop, he said, "Stay awake, don't go to sleep." He kept on talking, reassuring the young man that everything would be all right now and urging him to keep paying attention; however McCormick's mind was just too exhausted to stay focused on Hardcastle's words and drifted off into unconsciousness.

Frank returned with a blanket and handed it to the judge. "Here, Milt. The ambulance is on the way. Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked.

The judge laid the blanket down beside Mark. "Yes, do you have a pocket knife?"

"Yes, here." The lieutenant handed the knife to the judge, then said, "I'm going to go back up and wait for the ambulance."

Hardcastle cut the ropes binding Mark's hands and feet and gently straightened out his legs. He started to move McCormick's left arm in front of him, but Mark awoke and let out a yell in pain. "Hurts, Judge," he said hoarsely.

"Okay, kiddo. I'm sorry. We'll leave that alone for now," the judge said as he made the young man as comfortable as he could. He then took the blanket and placed it over him.

"I'm thirsty," Mark said.

"The ambulance will be here soon and I'm sure they'll give you something," the judge reassured him.

Mark closed his eyes and the judge nudged him, but got no response. "Come on, kiddo, wake up. Mark, can you hear me?" he said growing concerned. He didn't want to shake him too much due to his injured shoulder. Reassured that the man was just sleeping by hearing him breathing, he sat back to wait for help.

00000

The judge heard noises coming from outside the trailer. Frank had returned with the paramedics. They entered the small interior and asked the judge to step to the side so they could assess Mark's condition. The judge told them what he knew about Mark's injuries, then went outside the trailer to wait.

To get Mark in a more comfortable position and easier to move, the paramedics gently extended Mark's injured left arm up along his side and then placing a backboard behind him, eased him onto his back. As they turned him, they slowly pulled his right arm from beneath him.

The rescue crew then took his vitals and informed the hospital via radio of his physical state. The doctor ordered an IV to start the rehydration process. After the paramedics checked to see that the fluids were infusing without problems, they secured Mark's left arm across his chest and immobilized the shoulder. They then lifted the backboard and moved Mark out of the trailer and onto the waiting stretcher.

To make the trip as smooth as possible, Frank and the judge helped the paramedics carry the stretcher through the yard to the ambulance. Once they reached the vehicle, the paramedics loaded the stretcher inside. One man went to the driver's door and the other stepped into the back. "We'll be taking him to LA General," he said as he closed the door.

The judge went to the Corvette. Frank followed and said, "You go on ahead to the hospital. I'll stay here and tell Sarah when she gets back."

"Okay. She went to the market and should be back soon. Thanks," the judge said getting into the car.

"I'll bring her to the hospital," Frank said.

00000

Hardcastle drove to the hospital as quickly as he dared. He arrived and went into the emergency entrance.

He walked up to the receptions desk. "I'm looking for Mark McCormick. He was brought in just a few minutes ago."

"Yes, he's in an examining room now. Are you his father?" the nurse at the desk asked.

"No, I'm a friend. He's in my custody and works for me," the judge responded.

"Do you have the number to reach his family? I'll need them to give me the information to get him registered," she said.

Thinking about what he knew about Mark's family he said, "I don't think he has any living relatives. I can tell you the information you need to register him. I'm responsible for him."

"Okay, fill out these forms. Does he have insurance?" she asked, handing him a clipboard.

"No, but I'll take care of his medical expenses," the jurist responded.

"Okay, well, I'll mark him down as private pay – that means he will be billed directly," she told him.

"Okay," he replied taking the clipboard and sitting in a chair to fill out the forms.

The judge completed the forms and returned them to the nurse at the desk. She checked them over and told him, "Everything looks okay. Just have s seat and the doctor will speak with you soon."

00000

Hardcastle had been waiting about 20 minutes when Frank and Sarah came into the waiting room.

The jurist rose and went to greet Sarah. "Do you know anything yet?" she asked hugging him.

"No. He's in the examining room. The doctor hasn't been out yet to tell me anything," he said as they sat down to wait.

The three had been sitting for a while when the doctor came out of the examining room. He stopped by the receptions desk to inquire about Mark's family and the nurse pointed them out.

Seeing the doctor headed in their direction, all three rose and walked over to him. "I'm Judge Hardcastle. Mark is my friend and he works for me. How is he?" the judge asked.

"Of course, the nurse told me you were the party responsible for Mr. McCormick. Let's walk over here where we can talk," the doctor said, leading them to an empty corner of the waiting room.

They all sat down and the doctor leaned forward and started. "Mr. McCormick is severely dehydrated, his left shoulder was dislocated and he has torn ligaments in it. He has a couple broken ribs which luckily did not puncture his lung. He is running a fever at the moment that I believe is caused by the dehydration. He is very sick, but not sick enough to require ICU so he will be taken to a private room shortly and you can see him then."

"What are you doing for him?" the judge asked. The list of problems Mark had sounded bad and he wondered what was being done to make him well.

"We are giving him IVs of rehydration saline solution to replace what he lost. We have put the shoulder back in place and restrained it to prevent further injury and allow healing. The ribs will heal on their own as long as he is careful. The fever will come down as his dehydration is alleviated," the doctor explained.

"Is he going to be okay," Sarah asked.

"Barring any complications, he should be fine," the doctor replied. "Do you have any other questions?"

"No," the judge answered. Sarah and Frank also shook their heads.

"Well, then I'm going to go help get him settled into his room. I'll come get you as soon as he is," the doctor said, rising and shaking Hardcastle's hand.

00000

Sarah, Frank and the judge waited a short while, and the doctor returned and walked them up to Mark's room. "Now he looks pretty bad, but he is already showing signs of improvement," the physician commented as he led the way. "I'll check back on him later," he said as he left them outside the door.

They entered the room, and Sarah gasped. McCormick was lying on the bed and his face had several bruises that seemed to stand out vividly on his pale face. He was sleeping or unconscious.

Sarah rushed over to the bed. "Oh, my God, Mark," she said brushing his hair across his forehead out of his eyes. "Look at you. You're going to be okay," she comforted as she sat and took his hand.

The judge walked over and looked at him. "Hey kiddo, what you won't do to get out of work," he said in his usual teasing manner trying to get a response from the young man.

"Your Honor!" Sarah scolded.

"Sarah, you know I don't mean anything by it," he said sheepishly.

"I know that, but you shouldn't say things like that anyway," she reprimanded gently.

"Yeah, you're right," he said, sitting down on the other side of the bed. "Kiddo, you take it easy and you're gonna be okay," he said, watching Mark's face for any sign of awareness. Seeing none he added, "Well, that's okay. You sleep now. You need your rest."

Frank walked over and looked at McCormick for a few moments. Then he told the judge, "Now that we know he is going to be okay, Milt, I think I'll head back to the station to finish up some paperwork before I go home. I'll see you sometime tomorrow."

"Okay," the judge said as Frank left.

The jurist and Sarah sat with Mark, talking to him until visiting hours were over. He woke for a few moments a couple of times, but was incoherent and didn't seem to know that they were there.

00000

The next two days the judge and Sarah spent the majority of the day visiting Mark. He was pretty out of it due to the fever. He would talk in his sleep and most of what he said made little sense.

There were times that by what he was saying, the judge and Sarah knew he thought he was still trapped in the trailer. During those times, they would talk to him and try to reassure him that it was over and he was safe.

He said a few phrases that the judge could make out. Things like "never would run," "Judge knows," and "don't leave me." When he would call out, the judge tried to reassure him that everything was okay, but he was never sure that Mark heard him.

They stayed with him, leaving him to get something to eat at meal times and when visiting hours were over. They spent the time talking to him and trying to assure him that they were there.

Frank stopped by each day to check on Mark's progress, and Claudia came by a few times..

00000

Mark had not been aware of his surroundings since the judge had found him in the trailer. There were times during the next few days that he thought he had dreamed the judge rescuing him and that he was really still trapped in the trailer. Then he would feel a hand on his arm or in his hand and hear familiar voices telling him it was okay and that he was safe. He couldn't respond to the voices but he relaxed knowing that he was safe, and would go back to sleep.

00000

The third morning when the judge and Sarah arrived at the hospital, they were met by Mark's doctor when they got off the elevator.

"Good morning. I wanted to tell you before you saw Mr. McCormick this morning that his fever broke last night and he is resting more comfortably this morning," the doctor informed them.

"That's good news, doctor. Thanks for telling us," Sarah said, relieved at the news.

"Yes, thanks for all you've done for him," the judge replied.

"I just did my part. He's a real fighter," the doctor responded. "Now that the fever has broken, he should be more coherent. I'll let you go in to him. I'll come by later and check on him," he said as he left them.

They entered Mark's room quietly and walked over to the bed. They could see that he was indeed sleeping more peacefully. His face was less flushed and he didn't have the lines of distress on it that he had the last few days.

They sat down beside his bed and watched him sleep. They didn't say anything because they didn't want to wake him now that he was resting comfortably.

They had been sitting there about 30 minutes when they heard a soft moan.

Sarah stood and approached. She placed her hand on his arm. "Mark, are you awake?" she asked.

The judge stood on the other side of the bed at the sound from Mark. "Come on, kiddo. It's time to open your eyes. You've slept long enough," he coaxed gently.

Mark slowly opened his eyes and looked around him. He saw Sarah's face with open concern on it. He looked to the judge and thought he saw a glimpse of concern before he masked it behind his usual gruff features.

"Hey, kiddo. How do you feel?" the judge asked.

"Thirsty," Mark managed to say hoarsely.

The judge poured a little water in a glass. "Here take just a few sips until we know how your stomach will handle it," he said holding the glass for him as he took a few sips.

"Thanks, Judge," he replied, then lay back against the pillows.

Sarah brushed the hair from his forehead and asked, "How do you feel Mark?"

"Okay, Sarah," he said smiling, trying to put her at ease.

"Now, Mark, I know you're not okay. How do you really feel?" she asked, letting him know she was not fooled by his act.

Mark looked at her, and seeing the genuine concern decided to tell her the truth. "I'm pretty sore. My shoulder and my ribs hurt a lot. The rest of me feels tired and achy."

The judge replied, "Your shoulder was dislocated and has some torn ligaments. You are dehydrated, and that's why you're so tired and thirsty. You also have a couple broken ribs and your muscles ache from being tied up for so long."

Mark listened as the judge told him his injuries. "I figured the shoulder was injured badly because of how it hurt when I was tied up. I'm kind of tired. I think I'll go to sleep for a while." he said closing his eyes.

"Yes, you rest now," Sarah said bending down and placing a kiss on his forehead.

"Thanks, Sarah," Mark replied, feeling warmth spread though him from Sarah's show of affection.

"We'll be here later when you wake up," Hardcastle added, patting his uninjured shoulder.

"Judge, I would never run. I promised," Mark mumbled as he drifted off to sleep.

"We'll talk about that later," the judge said.

00000

Mark was still sleeping at noon, so Sarah and the judge decided to go get something to eat. In the cafeteria, Sarah watched the judge for a few minutes and then spoke. "You should tell him."

"Tell him what?" he asked.

"That you believed in him. That you knew he didn't run, even before the evidence backed it up," she answered.

"You're the one that never doubted him. I'm the one that called the police," he replied.

"Yes, but even then you never really believed that he had run," she responded. "And he should know that especially after what that man told him."

"Yes, I know. I'll tell him when he wakes up later today," the judge told her.

They finished their meal and then went to return to Mark's room.

00000

Mark was sleeping peacefully when he started to dream.

He was back in the trailer and he couldn't get away. Hollister was standing over him, laughing at him.

"I told you the judge wouldn't believe in you. They're coming to get you now, and you'll never get out of prison this time," Hollister said laughing.

The door to the trailer flew open, and the judge came in with two officers. The judge looked at him sadly, and said, "There he is. Take him away."

"No! Wait, Judge!" Mark cried. I didn't skip on you. He took me."

"Why did you do it? I was so disappointed when I found you gone," the judge asked, turning away from him.

"No, Judge. Please, you've got to believe me. I didn't run out on you. Hollister brought me here," Mark said, reaching toward him.

The judge moved from his reach and said, "I wish I could believe you. He motioned for the officers to take Mark away.

"Wait, you can believe me. I gave you my word!" Mark yelled as they started to take him away. "No! Judge! Please! Please, you've got to believe me.!"

The judge and Sarah were coming up the hall and were near McCormick's room when they heard him cry out. "No! Judge! Please! Please, you've got to believe me!"

They entered the room to find the young man struggling in his bed. They quickly approached to try and calm him.

"No, please don't send me away," he cried near tears.

"Come on, kiddo…wake up. It's just a dream," the judge said, shaking him gently.

Sarah placed her hand on Mark's face and brushed his hair back. "Please wake up Mark," she said.

He did not awaken, but continued to struggle. The judge took him by the shoulders, careful not to hurt his injured one, and gave him a harder shake. "McCormick, wake up!" he said sternly.

Mark's eyes flew open and the terror he felt was evident in them. He looked around the room and seeing the judge and Sarah began to relax. As he calmed down, most of the fear left his eyes. He then became embarrassed by the scene he knew he must have made. "Sorry, I guess I was having a bad dream," he said.

"Yeah, and from the sounds of it, it was quite something. Do you want to talk about it?" the judge asked.

When he thought about the dream, some of the fear came back into Mark's eyes, and he trembled.

When he remained silent, Sarah urged, "It may help you feel better if you talk about it."

"Okay, I was dreaming I was back in the trailer. Hollister kept laughing at me and telling me I was going back to prison," he started to say. Then looking at the judge, he said, "Then you and the police got there. You told the police officers to take me away. You didn't believe that I hadn't skipped out. I tried to explain, but you didn't believe me." He became more agitated, and upset as he talked.

Sarah placed a hand on Mark's face and told him, "I'll be back in a little while. I think the Judge and you need to talk." She placed a kiss on his forehead, and started to leave. Stopping near Hardcastle she said, "Tell him."

00000

After Sarah left the room, the judge turned to Mark. "Listen, kiddo, there are some things I need to tell you," he said.

"Okay," Mark replied getting nervous at the serious tone.

"First and most important, I did not believe that you skipped out. I will admit when I first got home to find you and all your things gone, the thought did cross my mind and I called for the APB. But by the time Frank activated it and came to the house to ask questions, I had already decided that you had not." He waited for Mark's response, wanting to be sure that he believed him.

Seeing that Mark was absorbing the information and was not going to speak, the judge continued. "When Frank got there, I had him fingerprint the Gatehouse. If I had believed you ran there would have been no reason for that. We found no prints, and then we knew for certain that someone else was involved. If you had skipped, you wouldn't have wiped your prints off everything."

Mark looked at the judge, and asked, "But until you found no prints, you couldn't be sure?"

"No, I was already sure. Finding no prints just backed up my belief," the judge replied.

"I didn't want to believe that you didn't believe in me," Mark said quietly.

"I know. The police caught Hollister with the Coyote," he said, and then seeing the look on Mark's face went on to reassure him. "Don't worry, the Coyote is fine. They didn't do anything to it and it is safely back at Gulls-Way waiting for when you go home." Seeing Mark relax he returned to the original topic. "When the police caught Hollister, he said he would talk to me. When I confronted him, he told me why he did this. He told me how even after hearing the APB you tried to deny that I didn't believe in you." He stopped to gauge Mark's reaction.

"I knew you trusted me, but then I remembered that I had threatened to leave, and I thought maybe you did think I had skipped out," Mark said looking down.

The judge waited to see if he had more to say. After a few moments the young man continued. "But then I knew that you trusted me because you still left me there. You wouldn't have if you didn't have confidence in me. I kept telling myself that while I waited but part of me was afraid I was wrong and that you didn't," he finished.

"Well, that part was wrong, because I never stopped trusting you. Frank and I left the APB active even after we knew you had been kidnapped hoping that we would find you or the Coyote," the judge explained.

Mark looked up to meet the judge's eyes. "Thanks, Judge, I guess I was still a little afraid you didn't believe me," he said smiling.

"Well, you can get those thoughts out of your mind. I want to tell you something else. Sarah had no doubts at all. She didn't let the facts blind her from what she knew about you. You had given your word, and you would not break it unless you couldn't help it," the judge told him.

"Really?" Mark asked. Then growing serious said, "Judge, I'm sorry that I made you look bad."

"Kid, you did no such thing. Hollister took you with that intention. You are not to blame for anything that anyone thinks about this. He used you. I've never cared before what people thought of this arrangement, and I'm not about to start now," the judge said.

"But they'll think you're crazy for taking me back," Mark commented.

"Only the ones that thought I was crazy for taking you in the first place. And like I just said, I didn't care before and I'm not going to now," the judge told him.

"Judge, you're something else," Mark grinned.

"Now yer cookin'," Hardcastle replied, smiling also.

Mark's smile widened at the familiar phrase, and he laid back against the pillows and within a few minutes fell asleep.

00000

Sarah returned to the room a few minutes after Mark and the judge had finished their talk. She was pleased to see Mark sleeping with a peaceful look on his face and the judge relaxing beside him. She could tell by the judge's face that the conversation had gone well.

They sat with Mark and talked quietly while he slept. He awoke around 4:00 that afternoon.

The doctor entered shortly after to find Mark awake. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"I'm still pretty thirsty and I think I'm a little hungry," Mark replied.

"I knew it was only a matter of time before he got around to saying he was hungry," the judge teased pleased that McCormick's appetite was returning.

"What do you expect? I haven't had anything for a week," Mark replied. He was smiling because he knew the judge was teasing, and he had missed that.

The doctor smiled at the banter between the two, seeming to sense that this was normal for them. "Well, you need to continue to drink plenty of fluids. We'll try you on a liquid diet for this evening. If your stomach tolerates that well, maybe you can have something solid tomorrow," he told him.

Mark's face fell at the thought of a liquid diet.

Sarah, sensing what was causing his disappointment, said, "You have to take it slow, Mark. You were so sick."

"And you still aren't out of the woods yet," the doctor added. "We don't want to risk advancing your diet too fast or we could cause a setback."

"Okay," Mark replied accepting that he would have to wait for solid food.

"I'll let them know to fix you a meal, and it should be here shortly," the doctor said, and then left the room.

00000

The nurse brought Mark his supper at 5:00. She helped him sit up in bed, and then set up his tray on the rolling table for him. He removed the lid, and looked bleakly at a bowl of soup. He tasted it; it really was just chicken broth. He would rather had a cheeseburger or pizza but decide to make the best of it. He also had a cup of water and some juice.

"How does it taste? Is it good?" Sarah asked.

"It's okay, but your soup is definitely better," he replied.

"Well, when you get home, I'll make you some," she promised.

He had just finished eating when Frank entered the room.

"Hi, Frank," Mark said as he leaned back in bed.

Frank nodded hello to the judge and Sarah and walked over to the bed. "Hello, Mark. I'm glad to see that you are looking better today. How do you feel?"

"A little sore and I'm still a little thirsty. I just had my supper…although it wasn't much to brag about," the young man replied.

"Mark, you heard the doctor," Sarah said gently.

"I know Sarah. But that doesn't mean I have to like it," Mark replied.

"And we all know that if he doesn't like something, we're all gonna hear about it," the judge remarked entering the conversation.

"Judge!" Mark said

"McCormick!" the judge responded.

Frank watched the interchange between the two men and smiled. Yes, it was definitely good to hear. He was glad to see both of them doing well after what they had been through. He glanced at Sarah and saw her smiling at them also, and knew she was having similar thoughts.

Deciding to interrupt them before they got too excited, Frank asked, "Have you and Sarah had your supper yet, Milt?"

"No," he answered. Seeing the look on his friend's face, he said, "We were going to go after he ate in case he needed anything."

"I'm off duty today and can stay a while. I can stay with Mark while you two go eat," Frank offered, knowing they would not feel comfortable leaving the kid alone for long.

"Okay, we'll go eat now, Frank. But you don't have to stay with him," the judge replied.

"I know, but I can keep him company while you eat. Since I'll be with him, you won't have to rush," Frank answered.

"Thanks, Frank," the judge said.

"Yes, thank you, Lieutenant," Sarah added, and she and Hardcastle left to go to the cafeteria.

00000

Frank pulled up a chair and sat beside the bed. He looked at McCormick closely. His color was better and he was definitely more alert, but Frank could tell he was still not up to par. His face was lined with fatigue and pain.

"Now that Milt and Sarah aren't here, tell me how do you really feel?" he asked.

"I feel okay," Mark started to say, and then seeing the look from the lieutenant said, "My shoulder is very sore and I'm tired, but I really do feel better than I did."

"Okay, I'll accept that," Frank said. "You can take a nap if you want. I'll just wait here in case you need anything."

"You don't have to stay if you don't want to. I'll be okay by myself," Mark said.

"I know that you would be fine by yourself, but I offered to stay because I know that Milt and Sarah feel better if someone is with you. Especially since you were so sick the past few days," Harper replied.

"Okay. I am tired, but since you are going to stay. there is something I want to ask you. I can't ask it in front of the Judge," Mark said, looking away.

"Okay," Frank responded, not knowing what the young man had on his mind.

"When I disappeared, did everyone think I had skipped out on the Judge?" he asked. When Frank didn't answer right away he added, "Hardcastle told me that he had at first but that it didn't last long."

Glad that Mark and Milt had discussed this a little, and that Mark knew about Milt's initial doubts, Frank wasn't afraid to tell the young man what he needed to know. "That's true. By the time I got to the estate after talking to him on the phone, he had already concluded something else was going on and insisted on the Gatehouse being dusted for prints." He paused to see Mark's reaction and then added, "Mark, he never had serious doubts about you."

"I know. I believed him when he told me that earlier. I was talking about the police and his friends. Did they think I had betrayed him, and that he had made a mistake with me? Did I make him look like a fool like Hollister wanted?" Mark asked, looking away but not before the lieutenant saw the anguish in his eyes.

"Mark, maybe you should ask Milt about this," Frank answered.

"When I asked the Judge earlier, he just said he didn't care about what they thought. But I do care." McCormick insisted. "I don't want him thought of badly because of me," he said.

"Mark, listen to me. By the morning after you disappeared, we knew that it was a kidnapping. And at that time only the police and a few people in the courthouse knew you were missing. By the time most of Milt's friends and colleagues heard about it you were listed as a kidnap victim. If Milt hadn't insisted on the fingerprinting, then it would have been that evening when we caught Hollister with the Coyote before we knew you were kidnapped. Then more people would have heard about it. But because he believed that you would not skip out on him and insisted on those prints, Hollister's plan didn't do what it was supposed to," Harper explained.

"Thanks for telling me, Frank. I needed to know," Mark said with a small smile. Then he said finally looking straight at the cop, "I have another question. How did you and the Judge find me? I couldn't make any noise to attract attention. All I could do was wait."

"That was the hard part. Milt and I followed up every lead we could," Frank said and then filled Mark in on the details of their search. He ended with how the Judge had figured it out the day they found him.

"I'm sure glad he thought to look there. I was starting to get scared that help wasn't coming," Mark said.

Frank could see on his face just how much this ordeal had upset him. "And you're still not over it yet, are you kid?" Frank thought to himself.

"I think I'm gonna take a nap," Mark said, shifting to get more comfortable.

Frank sat back in his chair, and watched as Mark drifted off to sleep.

00000

Sarah and the judge came back up from the cafeteria. Frank talked to them a few minutes and then left them sitting by the bedside. Mark woke up a little later, but knowing that he was still very tired, they told him that they were going to go home.

Before he left the judge walked over and patted him on his arm. "Get some rest, kiddo. I'll see you tomorrow." he said, and then walked to the door to wait for Sarah.

Sarah approached the bed. She bent down and hugged him, placing a kiss on his cheek. She whispered, "I'm glad you are back. I missed you." Standing back up, she brushed his hair from his forehead and said, "Sleep well, Mark. I'll see you tomorrow, too."

Mark watched them as they left the room. Once they were gone, he settled down in the bed and got more comfortable. He quickly drifted off to sleep, with thoughts of how nice it felt to have someone care about him as the judge and Sarah did filling his head.

00000

Mark recovered quickly and was soon released from the hospital. Because he had been a kidnap victim and was suffering from nightmares, it was decided that he should undergo some trauma counseling. He started it while he was in the hospital and continued it after he was released.

He went to the sessions and didn't say much about the kidnapping and the time in the trailer at home. His therapist, Dr. Maxwell, told the judge that sometimes it is easier for the victim to talk to an outside party instead of at home. He also said that with time that could change.

The judge took Mark to his appointments and tried to be there for him. He treated him as he always had, and never acted as if the kidnapping had changed anything.

Sarah fussed over him and made him his favorite meals. She tried to make sure he knew he was wanted, and that they were glad he was home.

Frank came by a few times to talk and check on Mark's progress. He didn't say much about the case because he wanted to be sure Mark was up to the news he had to tell.

00000

Mark had been home for about three weeks when the judge decided to talk to his therapist again. He was concerned because Mark seemed to be becoming more and more withdrawn. He drove into town, and asked to speak to the doctor. As he was shown into the office, judge shook the doctor's hand and took a seat.

"Judge Hardcastle, it's good to see you. I assume you're here about Mark," Dr. Maxwell said.

"Yes, I'm worried about him," replied the jurist.

The doctor replied, "I can't talk to you about specifics of our sessions. But I can talk to you about his recovery in general, especially since I know you want what's best for him. Tell me what has you concerned?"

"He seems to become more withdrawn every day. Sarah and I have tried to get him to talk about anything. He'll answer questions but we can't engage him in conversation. He doesn't seem to enjoy things he used to. He used to watch the sunsets or walk on the beach, but now he stays in the house or the Gatehouse. Sometimes he'll sit out by the pool, but he doesn't do that much either," the judge explained.

"Yes, I noticed that he seemed more withdrawn during our last session. I was going to call you if I hadn't seen an improvement by his session next week, to see if he was having problems at home. There are several phases to the recovery process. He seemed to be progressing well until last week. I sense that he's pulled back, and now he doesn't want to deal with what he is feeling. It happens sometimes. He could be afraid that what he feels is wrong, or he could just be afraid to face what he feels. Whatever the problem, he's not going to feel better until he faces it," the doctor explained.

"You don't think he'll do anything crazy, do you?" Hardcastle asked, concerned that Mark might be upset enough to harm himself.

"You mean suicide?" the doctor asked, and seeing the judge's nod, replied, "No. I don't think he's depressed enough to do that. I think he is dealing with other emotions, emotions that he doesn't want to face."

The judge was relieved by the doctor's answer. "How do I help him?" he asked.

"Just be there if he needs you. You could offer to listen if he wants to talk. Maybe he's just not comfortable telling me what's on his mind right now. Don't push him. That will just make him pull back further," the doctor advised.

"Thanks for taking the time to talk to me," Hardcastle said, rising from his seat and extending his hand.

Shaking the judge's hand, the doctor replied, "You're welcome. It's good to know he has someone concerned for him. If the situation gets much worse before his session next week, call me and we'll see what needs to be done. Hopefully, this will resolve on its own."

Hardcastle left the doctor's office feeling a little better knowing that the doctor was there to help if Mark didn't improve soon.

00000

A few more days passed with no improvement. Mark would rarely go outside and then usually only to the pool. He didn't seem to notice too much of what was going on around him. Sarah and the judge encouraged him to go for walks on the beach, but he just said he didn't want to. They didn't want to push, but they were worried about his lack of emotion. They were used to him being so full of life and seeing him like this was worrisome.

He was sitting by the pool this afternoon while the judge was reading the paper. The judge glanced over the paper every now and then to watch Mark. They had been sitting there about 20 minutes when they heard a car pull up.

"Frank's here," Mark said, surprising the judge. The young man hadn't initiated a conversation all day.

"I wonder what he wants. I wasn't expecting him today," the judge replied, pleased to see Mark also watching the direction Frank would come from. He was glad to see him taking interest in something.

Sarah had seen the lieutenant drive up, and brought tea out for them. "I thought you might like something to drink," she said as she sat it on the table and went back into the house.

The judge poured a glass of tea for Mark and himself.

Frank walked over to the patio. "Hello, Milt, Mark," he said as he sat down at the table.

"Hello, Frank. Sarah brought us some tea. Help yourself," the judge said.

"Hi, Frank," Mark replied, smiling slightly.

Frank poured himself a glass of tea. "Mark, it's good to see you enjoying the day outside," he said, glad to see Mark out and seemingly in a good mood. He wasn't sure what point to start with in the news he had for the two men. He drank his tea as he thought.

"Sarah and the Judge thought I should be outside today," Mark commented, his eyes taking a faraway look over the pool. He drank some of his tea.

"The air will do you good. You can't stay cooped up in the house or Gatehouse all day," the judge replied gruffly.

Mark looked up quickly, and started to say something but he closed his mouth without saying a word and dropped his eyes.

Frank and the judge didn't know how to respond to the sudden change in the young man's mood. He had seemed okay until the cop mentioned being outside and then he seemed to pull back.

Sipping his tea and deciding to let it go for the moment, the judge turned to Harper and asked, "Well, Frank, is this a social call or are you here on business?"

"Both actually, the lieutenant answered. "I came by to see how Mark was getting along, and I had some news I needed to tell you." He stopped to see that he had both of their attentions.

"I'm fine Frank," Mark replied. "I'm going to therapy for my shoulder, and I see the psychiatrist once a week. I don't think I'll need to go much longer."

"You can let the doctor tell you that," the judge replied.

"No. He said I would know when I didn't need him anymore," Mark replied, looking annoyed.

The judge didn't know whether to be glad or worried at the anger on the young man's face. Glad that he was showing some emotion, or worried because it looked like he held a lot of rage inside.

Frank was also concerned by the anger radiating from the young man, and decided to try to defuse the situation. "I'm glad you're doing well, Mark," he said.

"Thanks Frank," Mark replied, calming as he looked toward the lieutenant.

No one said anything for a few minutes. Everyone drank their tea and sat quietly.

After a few moments of silence, Frank said, "I also came by to tell you that Hollister confessed to the kidnapping, robbery, GTA, and attempted murder. He is waving his right to a trial, and will have a sentencing hearing next week. I thought you would want to know that you wouldn't have to testify, Mark. He confessed officially two days after you were released from the hospital, but I wanted to wait and tell you until I had all the facts from the DA's office. I also wanted to tell you in person." He watched McCormick to see what his reaction was, but the young man's expression didn't change at all.

"That's good, kiddo. You won't have to worry about facing Hollister again," the judge replied, confused by Mark's reaction. He had thought he would be relieved to not have to testify.

"I wasn't worried," McCormick replied in a monotone. "But I guess I am glad I don't have to go to court," he said his voice and expression not matching his words.

Frank waited a few minutes, and after neither man said any more decided that maybe it was time to go. "Well, I had better be going. I just wanted to tell you about Hollister. I have things I need to do back at the station. I'll talk to you guys later," he said as he rose from his chair.

"Frank, thanks for coming and letting us know," the judge said rising also. "I'll walk you to your car."

Frank," Mark said, looking up at the lieutenant. "What will happen to Hollister? He is going to prison, right?" he asked, not quite able to keep the fear from his voice or his face.

"Yes, Mark. He's going to go to prison for a very long time," Harper reassured him.

"Good," McCormick said quietly, turning his attention back to the pool.

The judge and Frank watched him for a moment and then walked to the lieutenant's car. Neither man said much on the way. They both were concerned for the young man they had left seated by the pool.

00000

As the judge walked back to the pool, he saw Mark getting up from his chair. Thinking that he was heading into the house, Hardcastle was surprised when the kid started walking in the opposite direction across the yard.

"Now where are you going?" he thought to himself. Hardcastle decided to follow.

Mark walked toward the hedges he had been trimming the day he was kidnapped. The hedge clippers were lying on the ground where he had thrown them. He picked them up, and stood looking at them, deep in thought.

After a few moments he started walking again, the clippers still gripped in his hand. The judge continued to follow--beginning to suspect where he was headed.

Mark walked to the clearing where his nightmare had taken place and stopped staring. He turned his head, and acknowledged the older man. "You don't have to sneak, Judge. I knew you were following me."

"I wasn't sneaking. I was just following in case you needed something," Hardcastle replied, blushing at getting caught.

"It's okay, Judge. I don't mind if you're here," he said, walking a little further.

Neither man said anything for a few minutes, each consumed by their own thoughts.

"Why?" Mark asked quietly, looking at the bare spot where the gardener's trailer had once stood.

The judge knowing what he meant, replied, "Well, we haven't used it for a while, and with you here there isn't any necessity for it. Besides I didn't want the reminder of what happened here, and you don't need it."

Mark walked over to the bare spot on the ground, and stopped. The jurist stood a few steps behind him and waited.

The clippers slipped from Mark's fingers and fell unnoticed to the ground. He stood staring a few moments and then bent down. "Judge, I'm scared," he said so quietly that Hardcastle almost didn't hear him.

The judge stepped closer and said," It's over and you're safe now."

Mark rose quickly and said, "I know that. I'm not sacred of Hollister. I'm scared of me."

"What do you mean, kiddo," the judge asked perplexed.

"I'm so messed up. I think I'm going crazy," Mark replied as he kicked the ground. He was becoming more nervous and upset.

Hardcastle placed a hand on Mark's shoulder, and was shocked when the young man jerked away suddenly and moved a few feet away.

"Don't! I just…," he let the statement hang as he stared at the ground.

"Talk to me, kiddo. Don't keep it inside anymore," the judge said quietly walking closer. He started to reach out again but stopped his hand halfway and dropped it back to his side.

"It doesn't make sense. I'm so confused I think that I might be going crazy," Mark said, visibly upset.

"Try anyway, it might help," the older man coaxed.

"Judge, you don't understand," McCormick replied.

"I know I don't. I want to, so help me understand," the judge said.

"I don't know where to start," Mark said uncertainly.

"Just start and it will come. Just say what you feel. Don't think about it first," the judge said.

"I'm scared and angry and everything else at the same time," the young man started.

Hardcastle said nothing. He just waited for McCormick to continue.

"I'm scared because I can't stop the nightmares. I can't stop remembering what happened," he started then continued on. "The therapy was supposed to help but it doesn't seem to. We talk about it but I don't feel better afterwards."

"It wasn't that long ago. Maybe you just need more time. You went through a lot. It will take time for those wounds to heal," the judge said.

"I guess," Mark replied. Turning to face the judge, McCormick continued. "But what I'm most afraid of is you won't want someone as messed up as me for your assistant anymore. You've been patient in waiting for me to get better, but I'm not and I'm afraid you'll decide it's not worth it. You can find another Tonto easily. I really wanted it to work but I know I'm no good now." He stopped and dropped his head, not able to meet the judge's eyes.

"Mark, listen. I'm not looking for another Tonto," the judge began and waited until the young man made eye contact again. "You have plenty of time to straighten this out. Your shoulder still needs time to heal."

"And if by the time my shoulder's ready, I'm still mixed up?" he asked fearful of the answer.

"Then we'll take more time and work it out. Those files have waited this long, a little longer won't hurt," the jurist replied. "Don't worry about me getting a new Tonto. The one I have is doing just fine," he added.

"Even now?" Mark asked with a hint of a smile.

"Yes, even now. I didn't expect you to bounce back from this as if it never happened," the judge answered and was rewarded with a grin. The judge knew there was more and was not surprised to see the grin fade and a serious look take it's place.

"Judge, when I think about what happened I get so angry," Mark said scuffing his foot.

"That's understandable," the judge started to say but stopped, seeing the look on Mark's face.

"I'm angry at Hollister and…," McCormick stopped, not sure of how to continue.

"And at me," the judge offered.

"NO!" Mark yelled, shocked. "Don't think that Judge. I'm not mad at you. You only did what you had to. And you tried to find me as fast as you could. Hollister left me there to die. But first he beat me and told me you didn't trust me anymore. I got so scared that I'd go back to prison and that makes me angry. I doubted you, Judge. You were trying to find me and I didn't have faith in you."

"Wait a minute, kiddo. Are you saying you're angry with yourself because I didn't find you right away," Hardcastle asked.

"No, I'm angry with myself because I believed Hollister when he said you didn't trust me anymore," the young man replied.

"Mark, Hollister told me himself that you refused to believe him. He said even after you heard the APB you didn't want to and said there was another reason," the judge said trying to ease his young friend's suffering.

"Yes, but later when I was alone," McCormick started and was stopped by the judge.

"Later, you were sick and hurt and it was bound to cause mixed up thoughts. That doesn't mean you actually believed it," the judge answered.

Mark visibly relaxed and said quietly," So you're not mad at me for thinking it?"

"Do you believe it was true now?" the older man answered the question with one of his own.

"No, of course not," Mark answered.

"Then there's your answer," the judge replied.

"You know what makes me the angriest?" Mark asked and then went on without waiting for a response. "He made me feel so ashamed, Judge. He humiliated me just because he could."

Hardcastle not knowing what he was talking about, waited for him to go on.

"When he took me to the trailer he tied me up. He told me how I was no good and deserved to die. He told me that I was scum and needed to pay. I had no right to a second chance. Then later, I was getting really thirsty. He was drinking water and I asked for some. He told me no and kept drinking," Mark said, growing embarrassed and looking at his feet.

The judge didn't want to say anything because he was afraid that if he did Mark would not finish, and he felt this was something important for the young man to deal with.

McCormick continued after a moment. "Later, I woke up and was still so thirsty," he paused his voice cracking. Regaining his composure he continued. "I asked Hollister again for some water. He told me if I begged for it, then he'd give me some. So, I begged for the water Judge." He stopped talking--trying to collect himself.

"I never imagined that Hollister was there with him after the APB. What did he do to you, kiddo?" the judge thought to himself as he watched Mark. The jurist could feel his anger toward Hollister rising but he suppressed it. Now was not the time to be concerned with that. The kid needed to deal with what he was feeling right now.

Mark was growing more and more emotional as he talked, and it was showing in his eyes and could be heard in his voice. It was easy to tell he was near tears. The judge knew if he pressed now, Mark would clam up and not tell him the rest, so he remained silent. He would wait until Mark could continue.

After a few moments McCormick continued, his voice full of emotion. "After I begged for the water, Hollister brought the water over. He lowered it down to where I could almost reach it. When I went to drink it, he pulled it back and said he'd changed his mind."

Hardcastle said angrily, "That son of a…," and stopped when he heard Mark continue quietly.

"Later, in the middle of the night, I woke up and had to go to the bathroom so bad. I had waited as long as I could but now I couldn't wait any longer. I asked Hollister to untie me so I could go but he said no. He made me lie there until I went on myself while he watched and laughed." Mark was no longer able to stop the tears that had been threatening, and they ran down his cheeks.

"Oh, God Mark," the judge said walking over and putting a hand on Mark's shoulder. This time McCormick didn't pull away.

"I was so humiliated, Judge. I've never felt so ashamed in my life," he said his voice reflecting the anguish on his face.

"Mark," the judge started, gripping the young man's shoulder a little tighter. Before he could continue Mark broke down and dropped to his knees.

Hardcastle's feelings of anger were quickly turning to rage. "How one person could do that to another is beyond me" he thought to himself. He pushed those thoughts aside to try and help the young man in front of him.

Knowing he had never been very good at providing comfort, the judge did not know what to do. He hesitated for a moment, but he also knew that Mark needed his support right now.

Hardcastle knelt down by Mark, and put his hand on his shoulder. As soon as he did, Mark grabbed him with his right arm. He was holding on with all his might. The judge awkwardly put his arm around him and held him close as the young man finally released all the pent up emotions. Seeing the anguish his friend was going through brought tears to the judge's eyes as well. Now knowing all that Mark had been through in that trailer, he could understand why he was having such a hard time dealing with it.

After a while, McCormick started to regain his control, and pulled back from the judge. He fumbled with his sling, not meeting the judge's eye, and stood, moving a few feet away. "Sorry, Judge, I didn't mean to make a scene."

"Don't worry about it. It was something that you obviously needed to deal with. Feel better now that you've talked about it." Hardcastle asked.

"Yeah, I do," Mark said smiling, his first real smile since he had been released from the hospital. "Thanks, Judge."

"That's what friends are for," the judge said, surprising himself with his answer.

"Friends, huh?" Mark said, and then added, "I think I like that. But really, thanks for everything. Not just today, but finding me and believing in me in the first place." Seeing the judge getting uncomfortable he said, "It's okay. You don't have to say anything. I just wanted you to know I'm grateful."

The judge grunted a response to what Mark said and fell silent. His thoughts were on what the kid had told him about Hollister and his anger started to rise. As they headed back toward the house, he mumbled "I wish Frank would have let me kill him when I had the chance."

Mark stopped dead in his tracks. He wasn't sure he heard the judge correctly. "What did you say?"

"Nothing," Hardcastle replied, embarrassed at being overheard.

"No, I heard you say something," Mark persisted.

The judge knew the younger man was not going to let it drop so he admitted reluctantly, "I said I wish Frank would have let me kill him when I had the chance."

"You didn't really want to kill him?" Mark asked and then seeing the look on the judges face asked, "When?"

"When we got to the police station after he had been caught with the Coyote. He was gloating by telling me what he had done and why he had done it. When he wouldn't tell me where you were, I got angry. I attacked him and Frank pulled me off him. If he were here right now, I'm not sure I wouldn't now, especially after what you told me this afternoon," the judge said.

"Well, if he were here right now, you'd probably have help," Mark replied.

"No, you aren't the type," the judge replied.

"Well I don't think you are either, Kemosabe," Mark responded.

They walked along for a few moments in silence. "You like me that much?" Mark asked with a huge grin.

"No, kiddo. I was looking for my pain in the rear assistant. I had misplaced him," the judge shot back. It felt wonderful to banter with the kid again. He didn't realize until just now how much he had missed it.

"Oh, I see," Mark said smiling broadly. "The Lone Ranger riding in to save Tonto, huh?"

"Now yer cookin'" the judge replied smiling also.

00000

The two men walked back to the house. Upon entering the house, Mark walked into the kitchen.

"Sarah," Mark said quietly, stepping just inside the doorway to the kitchen.

Sarah turned around at her name. She looked closely at young man for a moment. He looked more relaxed than he had in days. She walked over to where he stood.

"Mark, how are you today?" she asked.

"I'm okay. What are we having for supper. It smells great," McCormick replied.

"I'm making vegetable soup. You like it so well, I thought I would make it for you again," she told him.

"Thanks, Sarah. I know I've been a little messed up lately but I appreciate everything you've done for me," he said quietly. He bent down and placed a kiss on her cheek. "Thanks for believing in me," he whispered.

"You earned that, Mark. You had proven you were trustworthy," she answered, and was rewarded with one of his smiles.

"I'd better go get cleaned up for supper. I hope you made a lot because I sure am hungry," he said as he impulsively hugged her.

Sarah playfully swatted him away and said, "There's plenty. I know how you eat. Now get out of here so I can finish."

Sarah watched as Mark walked out of the kitchen and stopped at the den to tell the judge he was going to the Gatehouse to get ready for supper. She had seen him and the judge walk down through the yard. Wherever they went, and whatever had happened must have helped. The young man was definitely in better spirits than he had been earlier today. His face still had lines of fatigue and distress but they were less prominent.

00000

Dinner that night was a more lively affair. Mark and the judge discussed recent events in the news and sports. Their usual banter was present although a little subdued. There were moments when the look of anguish that had been so prominent on McCormick's face would return. But he would push it aside, and try to put it out of his mind.

After dinner, Sarah cleaned the kitchen and then went to bed. The two men went to watch a movie in the living room. They settled for John Wayne…or rather, the judge chose it and Mark gave in. The young man made some jokes about the movie as usual, and Hardcastle threatened to stuff him in the basketball hoop if he didn't stop.

As the credits started to roll, Mark grew more tense. The older man noticed and wondered about this change in his mood. After a few moments McCormick said, "Judge, those things I told you this afternoon. I think maybe I'll talk to Dr. Maxwell about it."

"I think that's a good idea. He'll be better able to help you make sense out of your feelings," the judge replied.

"Yeah," Mark replied. "Judge, I know all that stuff that happened today down there isn't your thing, but it really helped me sort things out. I think now I can talk to Dr. Maxwell without being so confused. Thanks for listening," he said rising from his chair.

The judge said, "It's okay, kiddo. I'm glad it helped."

"Well, I think I'll go to bed. See you tomorrow, Judge," Mark said.

Goodnight, McCormick," the judge said.

Mark headed over to the Gatehouse. He had very little trouble getting to sleep that night.

The judge went to his bedroom shortly after Mark had left. He also found it easy to go to sleep this night.

00000

As the residents of Gulls-Way retired for the evening, healing had begun. They knew that there was a way to go, but the first steps had been taken.

The two men knew that they could count on each other. No matter what the future held, they were ready to tackle it together. Neither planned on anything but an business arrangement with mutual benefits. But both had found so much more.