Warning: This chapter contains adult situations, language and mature subject matter.

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Chapter 7: Missing Person

Sheriff Becker agreed to meet Frank at the station and let Frank look through Angela Wilson's file. He was reluctant to let Frank take the file out of his office, so he sat at his desk and watched while Frank flipped slowly through it. There wasn't much. A brief summary of Angela's life and a few pictures struck Frank as a sad commentary on the end of a person's existence. A couple of her friends had given statements asserting that Angela would not have willing disappeared. But they were unable to offer any clues that might have cast more suspicion on her husband or anyone else. One young woman claimed that Angela had wanted to have children and was unhappy because Mitch wasn't ready. Another had claimed that she knew Mitch was unfaithful but had been unwilling to tell Angela because she was strongly attached to her marriage. In the end, there had simply not been enough evidence to implicate anyone in foul play, particularly since no trace of Angela's body was ever found.

When Frank was finished reviewing the last document, he closed the folder with a sigh. "There certainly isn't much," he said.

"No," Tom shook his head sadly. "It really irked me at the time. Mitch Wilson just rubbed me the wrong way; I was sure he had something to do with it. But his alibi was airtight and he did seem genuinely concerned about her disappearance."

"What about the mistress?"

"She was a puzzle," Tom said, his brow wrinkling. "Janice Woollery. She wasn't a local. Moved here from River Heights about two years ago and worked as a substitute teacher. Apparently, she didn't have a lot of friends." Tom raised an eyebrow. "Seems she had a thing for other people's husbands."

"So a relationship with Mitch Wilson would fit her profile."

"Yup. She was a real quiet woman, though. Kind of mousy, even. Not the sort who would strike you as the round-heeled type. Honestly, I was a little surprised when she ran off with Wilson. I would have figured her to just move on to some other married man."

"Maybe the publicity made her decide to start over somewhere else."

"Possibly." Tom scratched his head. "Anyway, she and Wilson moved away in July, about three months after his wife's disappearance. He told me he was keeping his cell phone number, so I should call him if I learned anything."

"Did you keep looking for her body?"

"We'd stopped by then," Tom admitted. "We just didn't have any idea where to look when nothing turned up on Lovers Lane."

"But you were searching in the vicinity of the tree Mitch claimed he was parked under, right?"

"Mostly." Tom squinted at him suspiciously. "You're thinking I should be looking around over by that other tree?"

"I don't know," Frank said. "Joe and I searched that area after we saw the ghost the first time. We didn't find anything, but then we weren't specifically looking for remains." He stood up. "I don't want to waste your time on a cold case, Sheriff. There are a few more clues Joe and I are trying to pin down. If we learn anything solid, I'll bring it to you right away."

"Thanks, Frank." Tom stood up also. "I felt pretty bad letting this one drop, but there was nothing else I could do at the time."

"I understand." Frank shook Tom's hand and headed back outside. It was late morning and the sun was starting to get hot. He climbed into his car and rolled down the windows, but before he could start driving, his phone rang.

"Hey, Frank, it's Jack."

"Hey, Jack!" Frank exclaimed. Jack Carter was his graduate student friend at the university lab. During his sophomore year, Frank had exonerated Jack and three friends in a cheating scandal that had saved them from being expelled from university. Since then, Jack had always been ready to help Frank out when he was working on a case that required scientific analysis beyond what Frank could do himself. "Did you learn anything about that fiber?"

"Sure did. It's standard manila rope fiber. You can buy it at pretty much any hardware store in town."

"Could you tell how old it was?"

"It was pretty fresh. Wherever you found it, I don't think it had been there all that long. Less than a year, certainly."

Frank nodded to himself. "Thanks, Jack, that's exactly what I was hoping to hear."

"Glad to be of help. Is there anything else?"

"No, that's it for now. Thanks a lot."

"You're welcome, Frank. Later!"

Frank disconnected and stared thoughtfully out the front windshield, his eyes focused on nothing. "So the rope had been there less than a year," he murmured. "That fits with everything else." He started the car and drove home quickly so he could discuss this latest news with Joe.

Joe was sitting in the family room, watching TV and folding a pile of laundry. "Did you learn anything new?"

"A little." Frank sat down on the other side of Joe's laundry basket and pulled out a garment to fold. "Mitch Wilson's mistress, Janice Woollery, was a loner who went for married men."

Joe frowned. "So why would she move away with him? Women like that usually go for married men to avoid any commitment."

"That's what Tom thought, too," Frank replied. "I wouldn't mind learning more about her. But here's something that will interest you. Jack called me. He said that rope fiber couldn't have been where we found it for more than a year."

"Really?" Joe's hands dropped into his lap and he studied Frank thoughtfully. "So the scenario we imagined is starting to look more and more likely."

"So it would seem," Frank said.

Joe resumed folding. "While you were gone, I talked to Dad about recording equipment. He gave me a listening device that can pick up the faintest sounds."

Frank made a face. "The camera never seemed to have any trouble picking up sound."

Joe smiled. "Yes, but we can put the listening device outside the car. It will still probably pick up any sound we make, but sounds from outside should come in clearer."

"What about the camera?" Frank asked. "Should we put that outside?"

"We could."

"I think we might want to. I'm curious to see if the ghost is visible from other angles, or if it has depth."

"Ok."

They finished the folding in silence. When they were done, Joe stacked it neatly in the laundry basket to take it upstairs. Frank followed him up the stairs and glanced toward their parents' room. "Is Mom still here?"

"No." Joe turned the other way and carried the basket into Frank's room. "She packed a couple of suitcases and left not too long after you did. She said she would be back for a few more things later, after she talked to her friend Eleanor Crane about maybe staying there for a few days." Joe removed Frank's clothes from the basket and put them on his bed. "I'll let you put these away."

"No problem." As he started out the door, Frank caught his shoulder. "Are you sorry?" He did not have to add that he was asking about Mom.

Joe only hesitated for a moment. "No. I think it will be better for all of us in the long run. Including Mom." He gave Frank an encouraging smile. "I'm going to do my best to look on the bright side of the situation. At the very least, it gives us one less parent to worry about when we're trying to sneak in a quickie."

"Joe…" Frank said warningly.

Joe just grinned and proceeded down the hall to his own room.

Saturday evening went much more smoothly than Friday had. Laura did not return to the house and after dinner, Fenton decided to go into the office to catch up on paperwork.

"I've been letting things slide," he said, running his hand over his head. "All this stress hasn't been good for business. I need to get caught up."

"Go ahead, Dad," Frank said. "Joe and I are going to be busy this evening anyway."

"That's right." Fenton smiled. "Your investigation. One of these days you'll have to tell me what you're up to."

"We will, Dad."

"All right, then, I'm off." Fenton snagged his jacket and car keys and headed for the garage.

Frank waited until the sound of the garage door closing echoed through the house before turning to Joe. "This certainly makes things much easier. Do you need help with the gear?"

"No, but it's still a little early to head up there." Joe tipped his head to the side and regarded Frank with a teasing expression. "Maybe we should do it before we go so we aren't tempted once we're parked."

Frank wanted to pretend that just the suggestion of having Joe wasn't enough to get him hard, but he would only have been fooling himself. He took Joe in his arms. "It can't be normal to want someone this much," he said.

"Maybe not," Joe replied, "but I'm not going to worry about it." He put his arms around Frank's neck and kissed him soundly. "Let's go upstairs. I don't suppose you bought any lube while you were out?"

"As a matter of fact," Frank grinned, "I did. I got it on my way to the Sheriff's office, along with some stuff for my models."

Joe blinked in surprise. "They sell sexual lubricant at the hobby store?"

"No!" Frank laughed. "I was at the drugstore. But they do sell some hobby stuff at the drugstore and the prices are pretty good. They carry those little pins I like to use, for one thing."

"Didn't the clerk say anything?"

"It was Mrs. Cready," Frank said. "That old lady doesn't bat an eye at anything, but I told her the lube was cheaper than the oil they sold at the hobby store and worked better." He winked. "She said it probably smelled better, too."

"How would Mrs. Cready know what lube smells like?" Joe inquired archly.

Frank chuckled. "I'm not going there. Anyway, it's upstairs." He patted Joe's bottom. "Want to try it?"

"Yes!"

Joe pulled away and led the way upstairs, going straight into Frank's room. "I already changed the sheets on my bed," he said. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all." Frank locked the door. "Just in case," he said. Then he caught the hem of Joe's t-shirt and pulled it off over his head. "Do you need foreplay?"

"I never need it with you," Joe said matter-of-factly, "but that doesn't mean I don't want it." He caught Frank's hands and placed them on his chest. "It felt really good when you played with my titties."

"Naughty boy," Frank murmured, but he caught Joe's nipples between his fingertips and teased them.

Joe shivered. "It's weird that it should feel so good when you do that."

Frank leaned close and whispered into his ear, "So do you prefer fingers, lips or tongue?"

"Ah!" Joe moaned. "You better use all three so I can compare."

"As you command," Frank purred. He kissed Joe's ear and then worked his way down Joe's neck to his shoulder, which he nipped quickly before continuing down Joe's chest. He released the right nipple so he could stroke it with the tip of his tongue, teasing the nub until it quivered.

"Um…" Joe panted.

"Or this?" Frank said and caught the nipple between his lips. He sucked gently and Joe gasped.

"Um, ok, I think," Joe rasped, "sucking may win, but it's a pretty close contest."

"Maybe you need a little more time," Frank said.

"Possibly," Joe groaned, "but I'm starting to ache all over and I really want to get fucked."

"We're going to have to work on your foreplay," Frank chuckled. "You give in too easily."

"I'm young!" Joe exclaimed. "It's not my fault if I love getting pounded."

"True," Frank acknowledged. "Very well. Strip naked for me, baby brother, and I will take care of your needs."

"Yes!" Joe cried. He stripped out of his jeans and boxers in record time and flopped onto Frank's bed. He stretched out on his back and spread his legs with his knees bent, opening himself up. "Is it all right like this? I want to feel you lying on top of me this time."

"Any position is good that lets me stick it in you," Frank said. He stripped out of his own clothes and retrieved the lube from his bag of shopping sitting on the little table where he assembled his models. "I hope you like this stuff. It's supposed to be very smooth." He uncapped the tube and squirted it over his fingers, rubbing them together experimentally. "Interesting. It feels cold at first, but it warms up when I start sliding it around."

"Less analysis, more lubricating," Joe demanded.

"Right!" Frank slid a finger into Joe, delighting in the way it just went in. The slickness of the lube allowed him to move freely. Curious, he added a second finger and it went in more or less unimpeded as well.

"Oh, yes!" Joe moaned. His eyes closed and he lifted his hips eagerly. "That feels great! Go deeper!"

"Ok." Frank pushed his fingers in farther, moving them around and watching Joe's reaction.

Joe writhed helplessly, panting through his open mouth. His face and chest flushed, his already excited nipples poking out further. "Ah! Unh!" His erection lifted up from his stomach, moisture glistening at the tip.

Frank used three fingers, working more lube in until Joe was slippery with it, little trickles running down from his opening. "I think that's good," Frank said. It had to be. At this point, he was so excited from watching Joe's arousal he couldn't wait anymore. Lying down between Joe's legs, he guided himself in. Joe was tight, but Frank slid into him easily, completely turned on by the warm, clasping pressure of Joe's internal muscles. He slid his arms under Joe's shoulders and Joe embraced him, his gasping breaths rushing against Frank's ear.

Frank moved in and out slowly at first, giving Joe time to adjust to the penetration, but then he began to move more quickly, thrusting deep and hard into Joe's yielding body. Joe clung to him, gasping with pleasure and lifting up underneath him, his body shaking with arousal and impending joy. Frank went faster, driven by a need over which he had absolutely no control. They thrust and strained against each other, groaning and crying out, until ecstasy overwhelmed them and they collapsed into shuddering orgasm.

Several minutes passed in which nothing could be heard but their panting. Frank reveled in the delicious feeling of Joe's warm body underneath his, slender and strong, his firm, muscular belly slick with his cum. He finally lifted his head to look at Joe. Joe's eyes were closed, but his expression was one of utter contentment.

"Was it better with lube?"

"It was fantastic!" Joe answered. He opened his eyes and smiled lovingly at Frank. "I could really feel you, and you went in so deep, even in this position. I think it would be really great if you did me from behind with lube."

"Next time," Frank said. "We should get going if we want to be in position at Lovers Lane on time."

Joe nodded. "I know. It just feels really good lying here like this." He kissed Frank quickly. "But you're right. Back to business."

Frank pulled out and hopped off the bed.

Joe rolled off after him and tottered toward the door. "Ok, I apparently really enjoyed that!" he laughed. "I'm a little stiff."

"So I see," Frank replied.

"I'm going to clean up a little," Joe said. He unlocked the door and limped out.

Later, in the car on their way to Lovers Lane, Frank noticed him squirming a little. "Does your butt hurt?"

"No." Joe grimaced. "It's wet. I think between you and all that lube, it's going to be running out of me for a while."

Frank laughed. "I hadn't thought about that. That would be one reason to only have sex at night."

"It is night," Joe pointed out.

"You know what I mean."

Since it was Saturday night, there were a lot of couples parked on Lovers Lane. They started to worry when they were still passing lots of cars at the mile and a half marker, but fortunately, their space under the tree was still empty when they arrived. Frank backed in and they both got out to set up the equipment. They positioned the camera on the hood of the car facing toward the area outside the front passenger door. Then Joe set up the sound recorder on top of the trunk, so it would be well away from any noise they might make inside the car.

They re-entered the car carefully to avoid disturbing the equipment and snuggled close together.

"You know," Frank said, "even though we just did it, and very satisfyingly, too, I might add, there's no guarantee that making out with you won't make me want to do it again."

Joe grinned. "We'll just have to do our best. If we get too vigorous, we may disrupt the equipment." He pressed warm lips to Frank's mouth. "Maybe she'll respond to a little necking."

"Maybe," Frank said. He kissed back, slipping his tongue between Joe's lips. Joe opened his mouth and caressed Frank's tongue with his own. Frank wrapped his arms tight around Joe's body, in large part to keep his hands from trying to work their way under Joe's clothes. He could already imagine the warm, smooth feel of Joe's skin; the play of firm muscles underneath; the hot hardness of his erection. Frank's erection came up and he groaned. He really had no self-control. Of course, Joe wasn't helping. He was halfway into Frank's lap, his fingers tangled in Frank's hair; his chest pressed so hard against Frank's that Frank could feel his erect nipples through both of their shirts. Frank opened his eyes and almost sighed with relief when he saw the pale face of the ghost watching them, her sad eyes fixed on his. He pulled his mouth away. "She's here," he whispered.

Very casually, Joe straddled his lap and put his head on Frank's shoulder so he was facing the window. "It looks like she's crying. Let's see how long she stays." He lifted his head and kissed Frank deeply. They continued to make out, but the ache of sexual arousal had been erased by investigative curiosity.

"Her mouth is moving," Frank murmured. He watched the ghost's lips carefully. The face was so clear he could almost make out the words. "It looks like she's saying 'How could you'," he reported to Joe. "And something else, like 'You'll regret this' or 'You won't forget me'. It's hard to tell."

Suddenly, just like before, the crash of something heavy falling on the roof made the car bounce. The camera on the hood skittered but did not fall off.

"Shit!" Joe exclaimed. "The recorder fell!" He scrambled out of Frank's lap. The ghost was gone, so he exited the car quickly and dashed to the rear.

Frank scrambled out the driver's door. Despite knowing there would be no marks on the car, he was still relieved to see the smooth expanse of undamaged paint on top. He joined Joe at the back of the car. "Is it damaged?"

"I don't think so." Joe examined the little sound recorder carefully. "Fortunately, it's all solid state, so there's less to break." He manipulated the controls. "Let's play it back." They both listened carefully and flushed when they discovered that the recorder had picked up their conversation clearly. "I'll erase that later," Joe said. They continued to listen and Joe frowned. "I think there's something, but it's hard to make out. I'll have to download it and work with it on the computer. Let's check the camera."

The recording on the camera surprised them both. Nothing appeared in its image at all, even though it was pointed at exactly the right spot the whole time. One might have thought that the image was a still, until the camera jumped and the image slid when the car bounced.

"Why doesn't she show up?" Joe wondered. "She was there. We both saw her."

Frank rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe she's only visible to the people in the car. And remember, the first recording we made of her was blurry. The image only became clear at the end."

"That's true." Joe studied the camera for a moment more and then switched it off. "I'm going to download the video anyway. Maybe I can pull something off."

Frank nodded. "There's one thing I'm really sure about now, though."

"What's that?"

"I think Angela Wilson died between 9pm and 10pm on the night of April 1st. This is the second time she's fallen on our car and it's just after 9:30pm right now. The first time it happened it was about 9:30pm. All the other times we saw her, it was earlier than that. The one time we were here after 10pm, we didn't see her at all."

Joe slowly nodded, glancing around the clearing. "So if she died here, what happened to her body?"

"That's what we need to find out," Frank said. "Maybe that's why she's appearing. So someone will find her."