It was a bad idea to dial a number with shaking fingers- for his phone slipped out of his hands and fell with a thud. Frank knelt to pick it up from the floor and swore under his breath seeing a scratch on the so cherished gifted cover.

"Idiot," he cursed at himself, carefully dialling the number again. "Idiot, idiot, idiot…."

"Frank?" Fenton's worried voice came over the line.

"He crashed at 11-30, but two hours before that he was in a shop that was just 10 minutes away from there. Two hours, where was he?" Frank blurted out.

"Whoa, that was too fast. What's wrong, again?"

Frank inhaled deeply to calm himself and tried to control his voice as he recalled the Gift4U story to his father. "Anything could have happened in those two hours!" he finished and waited an answer. "You're there?" he had to ask a few silent moments later.

"Yeah, I was just- thinking."

"What's there to think about? We need to look into it, the sooner the better!" Frank replied excitedly.

"You sound like Joe now," Fenton said with a soft chuckle. "Listen…." There was a sigh coming from the other side of the line.

"What's with you? I'm getting new details on the accident and you sound almost disappointed."

"I'm not disappointed. I'm just faced with the facts of six witnesses and proven DNA tests…and half a year of silence on his absence."

Frank had to sit back on a chair in the airport coffeehouse. For a minute of rapture over new facts, he had completely forgotten that Joe was still dead. Slumping back to reality was physically painful. He reminded himself to breathe.

"Frank?"

"Something must have happened anyway," he said quietly. "He was alive for two more hours and I-I want to know what he did or…or what was done to him to maybe cause the accident. Someone must be behind it." And that someone, whoever he was and whatever he did to his brother, was going to regret it.

"I'll look into it, Frank."

"You? Why just you, I'm coming back!" he jumped from his chair and grabbed his bag.

"But- your University?"

"We're on vacation until January 5th."

"Right," Fenton decided not to comment on the fact that his son had been quick to rush back to London instead of spending more time back home, when he had almost two weeks off studies. "I'll see that shop while you're going back – hopefully they still have CCTV tapes."

"Call me when you have news?"

Frank numbly stared out of the window of the train that was taking him back to Bayport. And the award for being the idiot of the year goes to… he was lashing at himself again and again. Why didn't he check Joe's email sooner? Did he really have to waste months when the clue was a login and a password away? How could he try to move on with his life when-

When what? He closed his eyes and sighed. When a possible murderer was on the loose? He knew he was too hot to trot to make such conclusions yet – two hours were a long time, Joe could have done anything and encountering a criminal was just one of many possibilities. The question that bothered him the most had less to do with possible murderers.

Because he wondered if there was a chance that the murder hadn't happened at all.

Frank shook his head. He couldn't dare hope until they had facts. And the only facts he and Fenton had screamed the same old truth to his face: Joe was gone.

His phone finally vibrated with an incoming call from his father.

"So?" Frank answered and crossed his fingers.

"I have two news, good and bad," Fenton replied.

"Bad first."

"It doesn't solve the riddle."

"Okay. But the good news is-" Frank urged.

"But the good news is that there was some activity at the parking lot at around that time – with two cars involved indeed. The tape shows a very small picture of it, both cars were almost out of the security camera vision, so all I could see was moving shoes."

"And?" Frank asked, his heart beating faster.

"Apparently Joe did go to help some woman in flats, then went to try to start her car – and then the car drove off, I assume with him in it. I don't know if it ever came back to the shop or not."

"And his car?"

"Someone drove it off a minute later."

"Someone, but not Joe?"

"No," Fenton breathed. "The shoes were different."

Frank exhaled and rested his head against the headboard of his seat, his eyes closed. His head was pounding with a million questions and he couldn't catch a single one to concentrate on.

"Frank, there're still DNA tests," Fenton reminded him, though his voice sounded differently than an hour and a half ago when they spoke first. It sounded as if he was no longer sure of any facts.

"Gotta re-check them again."

"Going there already."

"Dad…" Frank called, his voice very quiet. "Do-do you think there's a chance he's alive?" his voice dropped to a whisper.

Fenton was silent for a few moments. "It's been half a year, Frank. There were no calls, no messages, no anything. Would someone kidnap and keep him just for the fun of it? I don't know…." He paused again. "I…I don't want to have false hopes, because I can't bury him again."

Frank understood it too well. "No telling Mom, right?"

"Oh God, definitely no, not at this point," Fenton shuddered at the thought of it. "I'm almost at the hospital to check the tests. I'll see you home, okay?"

"How do I explain my sudden comeback to Mom?" Frank asked.

"Dunno. How would the English have explained it?"

"Erm… Forgot my umbrella?"

"Best of luck with this one," Fenton finished the call with a soft laugh.