Author's Note: I knew what I was going to do with this, mostly, other than Joe's scene, but I ended up with a really brutal work schedule the last couple days, and while I managed to get this done, I'm actually close to passing out at my computer, so I have to hope it makes sense. It did when I read it, but judgment is very compromised at the moment due to lack of sleep.
I think this is about the last of the necessary answers, too. Or I hope it is because I'm not sure I can get more out of Zollner or anyone else.
Turn of a Tide
"No, you're just lying. You are trying to confuse me again," Frank said, pulling away from Zollner. He almost fell out of his seat, and he had to grab hold of it, trying to stay off the floor. He was starting to feel more of his body and its various aches—his head was still the worst, but he thought if things abated again just a little, he could try and stand. He needed to get up, get out of here.
He could escape if he was just close enough to the door—though he wasn't sure that door led anywhere he wanted to go. The headstones were fake—not just them but the whole cemetery, which meant that they were... Where? Frank knew this wasn't a hospital here, just like that hadn't been a real cemetery.
If there was some truth to what Zollner was saying, if he was controlling the board—none of this was real—and that the location. He'd have to have a place where he could arrange all of this, set up a realistic but still false front for both a cemetery and a hospital.
A movie studio? Frank couldn't remember one in the holdings he knew of for Zollner, but he knew he couldn't have been aware of all of them or he would have been found by now.
"You are confusing yourself," Zollner said, sounding amused. "I can see the strain as you try and decide what you will and won't accept. If you trusted me, you would already know what was worth believing."
"Trusting you would be the worst mistake anyone could ever make," Frank told him. He closed his eyes, drawing in a breath and letting it out again. "Gary... You did brainwash him? He was one of yours?"
Zollner nodded. "He was. Not in the sense of Mr. Nickerson or Miss Shaw, but not everyone needs that sort of programming to be useful. Killing comes easier to some than it does others. It doesn't need to be a command or a response to anger. It was... a part of Gary he wished to deny for the sake of passing for some archaic notion of normalcy and acceptable behavior, but he found freedom from all of that, and he was much happier."
"Was Gary always one of yours or did you pick him because he knew Ned and Ned knew Nancy and Nancy knew me?"
Zollner laughed. "Oh, Franklin, while I do have many uses for you and your connections, I cannot say it was only ever always about you. I have been at the helm of this empire for... well, a gentleman never reveals his age. I haven't always been aware of you or your existence. Several tools were mine long before I knew of you and how perfectly you fit all of my needs."
Frank shuddered. "You know that's not true. If I was perfect, you wouldn't have to break me."
"Breaking you will perfect you, but we should go," Zollner said. "We can't linger long in this place."
"Wait," Frank said, forcing himself to his feet. He'd still wanted to try for the door, but even if he couldn't—he had to delay going back. He didn't want another round of drugs. He didn't want to leave Nancy. She wasn't in the care of real doctors. She was—it wasn't a hospital. She wasn't really in a coma. They were using some sort of drug to keep her comatose, and if it was just a drug, Frank knew what he had to do.
He dodged Zollner's attempt to catch him, stumbling over into Nancy's bed. She didn't wake, and the machines kept on beating like it was all something far from a charade.
"Franklin—"
"You said I was here to see Nancy. I haven't done that. I haven't said..." Frank let his words trail off as he tried to get to the IV without Zollner seeing him do it. Frank slipped a hand over the bed rail. He couldn't reach the IV from here, damn it.
"Said what?"
Frank snorted. "The list is practically endless. That I'm sorry. That I wish I'd never gotten her mixed up in this. That I want her to wake up. That I would get her out of here if I could. Take your pick. I haven't said any of it."
"Now you have."
Did Zollner know what Frank was trying to do? Frank looked at him, gagging on what he was about to say. "Please. Just... let me have a minute to say something... something private."
Zollner watched him. "Is this going to confirm Nickerson's inflated sense of jealousy? I swear, that man was so insecure it was ridiculous. If he couldn't handle the woman flirting, he should have cut his losses long ago. Still, if there was something between you and Miss Drew..."
"Then what?" Frank asked, wondering if he would have to put on an act of his own to get this done. "Why is it so impossible for you to let me say a few words to someone in a coma? Afraid I'll be able to prove she's not actually unconscious and that you lied about all of this? Well?"
Zollner waved his hand. "Go ahead. Tell her. Whisper words of love in her unhearing ears."
Frank turned away from him, facing Nancy. He made a show of taking her hand and wrapping his around it, leaning down to her ear. He thought about saying that he hoped it would work, but he didn't know how much Zollner could see or if he knew how to read lips. Frank swallowed.
"I really do want to say I'm sorry," he told her. "And... I've missed you. More than you know. I... There's more I'd say, but I... I can't. Not here."
He set Nancy's hand down, yanking out the IV and sticking it into the bed so it would look like it was still in place. He turned back to Zollner, fighting his gag reflex as he said, "Thank you."
Zollner smiled. "I see we are making progress. I'm glad. Now, though, I am afraid you must have more of this."
Frank hated himself for not fighting the sedative, but he had to hope if he didn't, then Zollner wouldn't notice the IV. Everything rested on that, and Frank would just have to endure whatever Zollner might do to him so long as he didn't see that.
"How much longer am I going to be stuck here?" Joe demanded, tempted to get up and leave no matter what they said or how much it hurt. That car accident had cost them too much already. They'd lost time. They'd lost Nancy. They'd lost Zollner. He had to do something about that, change something. He needed to get back to work finding his brother—and his friend.
"Not long," Laura said, sighing. "I know you, and I know we can't keep you here, though I would if I thought... Well, you'll just make things worse sitting completely still. I know you well enough to know that much. I also know you'd better at least start healing before you go trying to get yourself broken again."
"Mom—"
"Don't. I know how you think, and as long as your brother is missing, you won't rest. I should have them sedate you just to let you heal," Laura told him. She sighed, and Joe knew she was tired. She probably hadn't slept since the accident, not unless she fell asleep in the chair next to his dad, and he knew that wasn't rest.
"I will be careful," Joe told her, "but I need to do something. Zollner has Frank. And Nancy. And his imposter or whatever he is—I checked, Zollner supposedly doesn't have any siblings, but I'm not ruling it out—is free. We have to do something, and sitting in bed is not doing something."
"Your father is asleep. Your friends have gone home—or to their hotel rooms—and I don't know that there's anything that can be done right now. You're looking for a piece you don't have, and no one even knows where to look anymore."
"We haven't finished with those names," Joe began, though he knew that was a long shot at best. He didn't want it to be, but he wasn't an idiot. If the names were that important, if they had that much information for them, they'd already have found it. "There might be something there, something small and obscure and not at all what we think. Or maybe something from the house or from the prison break... There has to be something. We have to get Frank back. And Nancy. But Frank..."
"Your brother is strong," Laura said. "And he has faith in you. He knows you are doing everything you can. Don't think he doesn't."
"That's not enough."
"Are you kidding?" Laura asked. "It's all Frank has, and you better believe it means everything to him. He won't let go of it."
Joe looked at his hands. He still needed to get out of here, because it wasn't enough for him. He rubbed his forehead. "What about Albright? Did we figure out if he was involved? Is he really treating Callie or was he in on all of this?"
Laura hesitated, and Joe leaned forward in the bed, knowing she knew something.
"Tell me. Please."
"We're not sure. He denies it, but he did admit to allowing someone to assist him—"
"Zollner."
Laura shook her head. "No, he didn't recognize Zollner. He did give us a description, though."
Joe fought a grin. This could be just the break they needed.
Nancy stood outside the house, unwilling to go inside. What Joe had said echoed in her head, making her feel them all over again. She didn't care about being called a coward. She knew that she wasn't a coward.
But unfeeling...
That scared her, because sometimes it seemed like it might be true. Could she be unfeeling? When she looked at her relationship with Ned, she sometimes believed it was. He had not gotten her undivided heart, not even her undivided attention. He was always in competition with mysteries, with whatever case she was working on or what caught her attention. When she thought of the things she was willing to do to solve a case, things she wasn't willing to do for him, she had to wonder how anyone had ever thought she cared about him at all. She certainly felt lousy at showing it.
She wasn't even sure that she was that good of a friend.
No, she wasn't. She just flat out wasn't.
She heard something crunch behind her, and she whirled around, expecting to have to explain her presence to Laura or Gertrude Hardy, but instead, her mouth went dry as her eyes took in the man in front of her. Leather jacket.
He wasn't wearing the jacket, not this time, but she couldn't forget that face. She'd thought it would be the last thing she saw. "Miss Drew. We were interrupted last time."
She shook her head, bumping back into the house and trying to remember which way to run for the door. She could get inside and lock it behind her, call for help, grab a weapon. Out here, she would have to fight him, and last time, she'd lost that battle.
"You came to finish what you started?" Nancy asked, hoping she sounded braver than she was. "I hope you brought a better weapon this time."
"A rock is so crude and rather ineffective, it's true," he agreed, "but it would have served my purpose, had your boyfriend not interfered."
She shook her head. "Murder is a crude no matter how you look at it."
He laughed. "Why do you assume I intended to kill you?"
She stared. "I—why wouldn't you? I saw you kill that man. I overheard you saying he'd killed Haggard. He was—"
"Sloppy, yes, but you are far too valuable to die in so inglorious a manner," Leather Jacket said with a smile that reminded her of Zollner's. "Or did you really think Franklin was supposed to be taken first?"
"No. You might work for Zollner, but that trip wasn't planned. Ned didn't—"
"Didn't tell you where you were going because he didn't know," Leather Jacket finished, using her surprise to grab hold of her arm. She twisted in his grasp, almost avoiding the needle. It hit her side instead of her arm, and he swore, slamming her into the house. She hit her head, and he took out a second syringe. "I told him where I wanted you, and he brought you to me. Circumstances prevented that from playing out as it should have, but trust me, Miss Drew... I have plans for you."
She kicked at him, but there was enough of the drug in her system to slow her down and make her move clumsy enough for him to dodge. He administered the second dose, and everything spun before it went dark.
Nancy's hand touched something wet, and she grimaced, only half-awake. She must have spilled something... She didn't know what, but she was too tired to deal with that now.
