Chapter 11

Fenton stared at Sam. "James Moore? But he's serving a life sentence for murder in Phoenix!"

Sam shook his head. "He was attacked by an inmate five days ago and brought to the hospital for stitches. He escaped from the officer guarding him."

Fenton pressed his fingers against his temples. "How the hell does a sadistic serial killer get taken to a public hospital under one guard instead of the prison infirmary?"

"Apparently the prison doctor had gone home for the night and they could only spare one guard for the trip to the hospital. Damn budget cuts," Sam muttered.

"If he escaped then he couldn't have been too badly hurt," said Fenton. "Surely they could have waited until morning for the prison doctor rather than take that risk?"

"That would have been an infringement of his human rights!" Sam spat bitterly. "Like the people he killed didn't have their rights violated!"

Fenton gritted his teeth. Arguing about it now wasn't going to turn back time. "Have they picked up any trail on him?"

"Nothing yet. But we know he came here so maybe we can trace him that way."

"We have no proof that he's the one who has Joe," argued Fenton, praying that his son wasn't in the hands of this lunatic.

"Fenton, he swore revenge on you in front of a courtroom full of people," Sam pointed out quietly.

"But he's a wanted man," said Fenton desperately. "How could he have made it here without being seen?"

"He avoided capture for five years until you came on the scene," Sam reminded him. "This guy is good at disappearing."

Fenton sighed heavily. "I'd better give his picture to the Bayport police."

"I'll do it," Sam offered.

"Thanks, Sam. I suppose I'd better let Laura know about Moore." Fenton swallowed. It was one conversation he was not looking forward to having with his wife.

XXX

Frank was watching TV and trying to ignore the fact that his father had emerged grim-faced from his study and called his mother in to talk. It could only be about Joe and judging by Fenton's expression, the news wasn't good.

The phone beside him rang suddenly and Frank jumped. He then reached over and answered it.

"Hello?"

"Frank?"

"Yes."

"It's Tony."

"Oh, hi, Tony," said Frank, surprised.

"Sorry to call so late," Tony told him.

"That's okay. What's up?"

"I just wanted to thank you for the loan of those books, they were a big help."

"You're welcome," Frank told him.

"Also you haven't been in for the last few days, so…" Tony hesitated than added. "I'm sorry about your brother."

Frank winced. He was getting very tired of hearing that; it made it sound as though Joe were dead. "Okay," he mumbled.

Tony hurried on. "Tomorrow's Saturday, and me and my folks are heading out of town for the weekend, but I wanted to give you back your books before I go, just in case you need them."

"It's okay, there's no rush on them."

"No, I'd rather return them," said Tony. "The thing is, we're going really early in the morning. But we're driving by your house, so I was thinking what if I put the books in the mailbox?"

"If you want," said Frank. "But don't go out of your way."

"No, we really are passing your house. Want me to leave the books?"

"Okay. Thanks, Tony."

"It's the least I can do. Will you be back at school on Monday?"

Frank hadn't thought about it. "I don't know," he answered. "Probably."

"Well, I'll talk to you then," Tony told him. "And Frank?"

"Yeah?"

"I hope they find Joe."

Frank swallowed. "Thanks, Tony. See you Monday."

"Okay, bye."

Frank hung up. The last few days had been such a nightmare that he'd completely forgotten tomorrow was Saturday. Was it really only three nights ago that Joe had asked him to go to the movies? Frank wished he'd said yes.

Turning back to the TV, Frank tried to distract himself once more. But it didn't work, all he could think about was Joe.

XXX

The next morning, after breakfast, Frank went out to the mailbox and found his books alongside a 'thank you' note from Tony. There was also an envelope with his name on it. Frank opened it and found a tape inside. There was a note attached; hope you like the music.

Heading into the house, Frank wondered what the tape was. Tony hadn't mentioned anything about a tape.

His father met him at the top of the stairs. "Hey, Frank. What have you there?"

"Just some stuff Tony dropped over," answered Frank as he headed for his bedroom. "How are you feeling this morning, Dad?"

"Better," his father answered, following him into his room. Frank raised his eyebrows; his father still looked pale and haggard.

Fenton laughed at his son's scepticism. "I do, Frank, really. It's just that when you get to my age, lack of sleep tends to show."

Frank grinned as he slipped the tape into the tape deck. "I'll bet. Guess old age had to catch up with you sometime, Dad!"

"I'll have you know I'm in the prime of my years!" his father rejoined, pleased to see Frank more like his old self, despite everything that was happening.

"Sure, Dad. Just keep telling yourself that," said Frank as he hit play. A dreadful, shrill music filled the room and Frank clamped his hands over his ears.

"Good grief!" his father exclaimed. "Is that what teenagers listen to nowadays? Gertrude is right, that's not music that's just noise!"

"No way!" said Frank indignantly. "I wouldn't listen to this! I can't believe Tony thought I would actually like this." Frank reached over to turn off the music but froze as he heard a voice yelling over the music, "Turn it off! Turn it off! Turn it OFF!"

Frank blinked as the music got louder. For a second, he thought that was Joe's voice. He turned to his father in confusion and noted his father's horrified expression. Frank was about to ask his father what was wrong when heavy pounding sounded over the music. Quickly Frank returned his attention to the tape. "WHAT DO YOU WANT?" he heard Joe's voice scream. "WHAT DO YOU WANT!"

Suddenly the music stopped and Frank could hear his brother's voice begging, "please, I want to go home!" The pounding lessened and Joe's voice whimpered once more, "please, I want to go home," followed by desperate sobbing.

Frank's heart broke and he turned to his father who was standing rigid with shock.

His brother's cries stopped, and Frank heard a harsh voice on the tape. "Well, Frankie boy, how did you like my music? Pretty entertaining, wasn't it?" Frank's blood froze as the voice laughed and the taunts continued. "You wished you didn't have a brother and I granted that wish. How does it feel to have your wish granted, Frankie? How does it feel to know you're responsible for this?" Evil laughter filled the room and then the tape clicked off.

XXX

Joe was woken once more by the awful, shrill music he had grown to dread. Squeezing his eyes tight, Joe tried to pretend it was all a nightmare and he would wake up back in his own bed. But it wasn't so.

The music continued and Joe sat up wearily, resigned to the fact that he would have to listen to this noise until his kidnapper got bored.

Doesn't he ever sleep? Joe wondered. His own body was craving sleep, proper sleep; the type this music was depriving him of.

The boy could hear laughing on the other side of the door and shivered. This was going to be one of those times when his kidnapper spoke. As if reading his mind, the man turned off the music and addressed him.

"How's my little Joey doing today?"

Joe pulled his knees up to his chest and stared into the darkness. He would never let anyone call him Joey again after this. Never.

The man laughed. "Not too talkative again today, I see. But that doesn't matter, I'm feeling chatty enough for the two of us."

Joe put his head against his knees. Oh, just go away! he thought, exhausted.

"Do you know where I was this morning?" the man asked him. "I was in Bayport, at the house on the corner of Elm and High!" Joe's head shot up and his heart wrenched at the thought of home.

"Do you want to know what I was doing the there?" the man continued gleefully. "I was delivering a package to your brother!"

Joe jumped off the bed, stumbling in the darkness. "You leave my brother alone!" he yelled. "You hear? Leave him alone!"

The man howled with laughter. "You've got spunk, kid, I'll give you that!" Joe balled his fists in anger. If that man hurt Frank…

"What I don't understand is why you bother to defend him? After all, he's the reason you're here!" Joe froze, horrified.

What?

"That's right, Joey. Good ol' Frankie wished he didn't have a brother and I granted that wish. I brought you here because Frank didn't want you anymore."

"You're…you're lying," Joe said.

"Oh, am I?" the man chuckled. "Tell me, Joey, what was the last thing Frank said to you? The very last thing?"

Joe couldn't help it. Before he could stop it, an image of Frank, his face contorted in anger, flashed through his mind…Why? Because I'm supposed to be the good boy and never get in trouble? I'm sick of it, Joe, and I'm sick of you! Why do you have to be such a drag? I wish I didn't have a brother

Joe swallowed. "He didn't mean that, he was just angry."

"Really? Then why hasn't he come looking for you?"

"Because he doesn't know where I am!" Joe cried.

"Don't be too sure about that!" the man sneered. "I left him a package this morning with a clue in it!"

Joe didn't know how to respond. He kept seeing Frank yelling at him…I wish I didn't have a brother…then storming off, and the man's vicious lies began to have a ring of truth to his confused mind.

Joe sat down weakly on the cot, shaking his head. No, he's lying! This man's a liar!

"I still have one more package to deliver to Frank," the man told Joe. "It's a very special package. There's just one problem, Joey…" the man paused then added softly, "the package is in your room!"

Joe's head shot up and his hands gripped the side of the cot in panic as he heard a bolt on the other side of the door being lifted. "Ready or not, Joey, here I come!"

A/N: Hi guys! I'm back from my travle and here's chapter 11, I'm too tired to format another chapter tonight but I'll put chapter 12 up in the morning. And thank you to everyone who reviewed while I was away! Hope you all enjoy the chapter!