CHAPTER 36

Suddenly, there was Joe at Con's shoulder, surprising him. Con turned to support him and accept his jacket back. "I thought I told you to stay there?"

"Only until I collected myself." Joe hung to Con's shoulder and stared at the corpse silently. "Good." he said, and then allowed Con to help him slumped down next to Frank and touched his brother's face. "Warm."

Fenton looked closely at Joe and flicked concerned eyes up, Con nodded.

Joe didn't see the look which passed between them. He must, however, have overheard the confab between the three men because he looked unsteadily at John and asked. "You the assassin who killed Claud Riley?"

"I prefer Vermin Exterminator."

"Apt." Joe crossed his legs and hunched forward to rest his forehead on his fist.

"You okay, Son?" Fenton asked.

Joe sat up straighter to inspect the blood on his hand from the cut above his eye. "Bruised pride…uh!" He swayed to his feet and staggered away into the trees.

"Where's he going?" Fenton asked. "Con, get after him."

Con followed quickly.

Joe hadn't gone far, only to just beyond the clearing, bent over with a hand gripping a narrow tree trunk.

Con reached him and realised Joe had gone to be sick. He rubbed Joe between the shoulder blades until he finished. "Joe?"

"Can this get any more embarrassing?" Joe asked, and spat. "So not cool. I can't believe the guy took me down so easily. I didn't get a single hit in. Frickin' humiliating!"

"Literally none of us did." Con tipped his head towards the clearing. "John took him out. We were too late to do anything about anything. Has Frank been in contact with John ever since he killed Claud?"

"I dunno. He's never told me. But I know if that's true, Frank won't have done it to disrespect you."

"I know. Strange though. Advantageous as it turns out."

They returned to the others and Joe sat next to Frank again.

Fenton frowned at Con.

"Call of nature," Con explained to Fenton's non-verbalized question.

John returned to his first-aid kit and pulled out cotton gauze. He leaned and applied it to the split above Joe's eye. "Hold this." His fingers returned to Frank's pulse. "Have I got a problem here? You gonna arrest me, Con?"

"No, but there are people here who will. The cops held a manhunt after you killed Claud."

"I'm aware o' that."

"A risky business, Frank involving you, and you took a risk by allowing yourself to get involved. Why are you here?"

"Frank had nothin' to do with it. The Grayman hired me to take out the psychopathic nutjob if needed and to protect y'all."

Joe snorted. "His name's Arthur Gray, not The Grayman. Don't call him that. He loves it too much."

"I'll stop in that case." John laughed. "I'll admit, it's not a job I'd usually take, but I broke my word to Frank when I killed Claud so I agreed. An' I like Frank." He stopped, looked into the trees for a second and listened. Satisfied they were still alone, he continued. "I hoped I wouldn't have to intervene but you were never gonna get here…I barely got here in time! So I shot the rope to drop Frank an' shot the man."

Con swung his flashlight to the rope in the man's hand. "He hanged Frank?"

"Bat-crazy! Watchin' Frank an' enjoying himself, tormentin' him. Frank fought right to the end, didn't give him what he wanted."

Con concentrated his light onto Frank's neck, saw the livid burn marks for the first time. "How could he have been fighting?"

"Not physically. You don't fight a sadistic psychopath physically. I'm guessin' it's how Joe met his downfall."

"Hey, I'm right here!" Joe protested.

Fenton said to John, "You're not gonna get a payment from Arthur Gray. He's under arrest, being investigated."

John shrugged. "I didn't do it for the money. As I said, I had a debt to clear with Frank…an' I like him. I like y'all, truth be told." He pointed further into the clearing. "Seems the psychopath killed the woman too."

Con went and shone his light around until his beam came down on the woman's body. She stared up with fixed, lifeless eyes, pupils wide, a twine tied tightly around her neck - exactly as they found Vanessa.

"My God!" Fenton uttered.

John shrugged. The look on his face registered surprise Fenton even cared. "She played with crocs an' got bit. Not like the rest o' you." The last comment heavy with suggestion.

"What does that mean?" Joe asked.

"I had to take y'all down in there. You were puttin' the cops an' yourselves in danger. Couldn't get at Fenton though, too fast."

Fenton frowned. "So you shot Con and Joe's Kevlar vests, not the gunmen?"

John half grinned. "Your gunplay messed with the cops doin' their job; you were as likely to hit them as the bad-boys. I'm guessin' you didn't know the cavalry had ridden into town?"

"We didn't. They could see in, we could barely see out." Fenton offered his hand and John took it. "I'm grateful you were here to save both my sons. I don't suppose the Red-Headed Man would've stopped at Frank." They shook firmly. "I advise you go because the police are coming."

"I do appreciate the predicament I'm in," John said. "I'm not vyin' on getting' caught, but I need to cover my tracks. How you feelin', Joe?"

"Okay I guess."

"Able to monitor your brother's pulse while I take care o' business?"

"Sure." They swapped places.

John turned to Con. "I can't have questions bein' asked about who shot the man there. Fenton's grateful for what I've done tonight, but how grateful are you I had a hand in savin' your lady?"

"More grateful than you'll ever know."

John paced over to where Fenton disposed of his weapon and picked it up, Con automatically reached for his own. "Don't suppose I'm about to shoot ya!" John walked over to the psychopath. "Don't get jumpy on me, Con." He pulled out a cloth, wiped the gun clean and bent to put the psychopath's hand around the weapon's grip. He pressed the dead man's fingers and thumb into the positions, as if The Red-Headed Man had handled the weapon. John then stepped up to Con and held gun out to him butt first. "Take it."

Con accepted it into his palm.

"Fire it."

"Why?"

"You're gonna get your wish. It'll be you who took the gun from that man an' shot him. No one's goin' to not believe an ex-Lieutenant of the Bayport Police Department. Tell 'em you shot the gun a third time to draw help to Frank. You need gun residue to get on your hand."

"You realize this isn't gonna convince Chief of Police Ezra Collig?"

John tipped his head enquiringly.

"You saw the crazy you killed. Do you think I would have disarmed him so easily? I don't have a mark on me."

"Ah. I see."

"You'll have to hit me—"

"You sure 'bout this?"

"No, but do it."

Con set himself, shut his eyes and waited. He didn't want to dodge at the last second. They needed John's concocted story to be unquestionably believed. Con didn't want John put away for the killing of Claud Riley, a man who caused so much misery in his and James' lives for years. He owed his brother nothing. Con had disassociated himself from his brother in his heart. He considered Fenton his brother now. He and Fenton were in the midst of a bromance, one that wasn't going to fade any time soon. They had each other's loyalty and trust. As for the killing of the Red-headed Man? If John hadn't done it, Con or Fenton would have. Pure happenstance the Vermin Exterminator got there first and saved them from that eventuality.

John's punch hit Con with the audible, ferocious thump.

Fenton and Joe cringed as Con hit the ground and ate grass. They glanced at each other. "Frank didn't exaggerate when he said things would get crazy." Fenton said.

Con got up onto his knees, and said something he knew he would regret later, "Do it again and harder. Don't hold back this time."

John massaged his skinned knuckles. "I didn't think I had! You're sure a sucker for punishment." He leaned and delivered the second.

Now on his back, Con groaned, rolled painfully and got up onto his hands and knees.

"Do you want me to do it again?" John asked, offered a hand out to help him up.

Con spat a couple of times and ran a hand over his split lip. "No thanks. I like my teeth." With John's help, he gradually swayed onto his feet and raised the gun in the air.

"Wait!" Fenton commanded.

Con paused, turning his gradually swelling and bruised face in his partner's direction. "Fen?"

"Give John a chance to high-tail it. I can hear the boys in blue and they're close."

"I'm much obliged." John moved to retrieve his backpack before he turned to shake Con's hand. He bent to rest his palm on Frank's chest feeling the rise and fall. "Good." He pulled his knife out of the dirt, wiped the blade down his pants leg and sheathed it. "I'll see you boys again perhaps. Wish Frank the best." He took Fenton's hand, and tapped Joe on the shoulder. "Take it easy, Joe," he said, and ran. He paused momentarily at the edge of the trees, leapt and snatched an M-24 rifle from a branch, then carried on his sprint.

Con waited until he no longer heard John, held the gun high and discharged it. "HELP, WE NEED HELP HERE!"

They heard the nearby shouted response of police officers.

Con returned to crouch next to Frank, and placed the gun on the ground…just as Frank made a strange, drawn out, breathy sound which pulled their combined attentions. "What's he doing?"

"Dad, that's not right."

"I hear it." Frank's breaths had grown staggered, rebellious and painful. "Con, can you shine your flashlight into his throat, see if there's an obstruction or something? Who knows what the psycho nutjob did."

Con dipped and carefully checked it out. "Nothing to see. Doesn't mean there's nothing there, but I can't see anything." He positioned Frank's head to open up his airway fully. It made little difference. "Okay, not good. He's turning the color Van went."

"Dad?" Joe asked in a tight voice. He rose to lean over his brother.

"I don't know, Son."

"Frank?"

Con directed his light onto Frank's throat, finding the livid marks left by the rope and placed his palm there to feel. "Maybe his trachea's swelling? Could that be it?"

"I'm a PI, not a doctor!" Fenton snapped.

"Be cool, Flash. I'll get help." Con ran toward the sound of the search party. "Hey, over here!" they heard him shout seconds later. "Quick!"

Paramedics finally swarmed the area, along with cops helping with the burden of medical equipment. They instantly came to Frank's aid and ran a couple of tests, which resulted in a mask being put over Frank's face to pump air into his lungs as they unpacked an intubation kit.

The first EMT turned to Fenton. "We need to transport him quickly; it sounds like a collapsed lung. I need to do a procedure, but not here, it's not sterile." He raised a hand and looked around him. "We need to bag him, can people shine their flashlights here?"

About ten sources of light swung in Frank direction.

"Where's the intubation kit?" The medic called and someone thrust an instrument into his hand. He continued talking to Fenton and Joe. "He's not managing his breathing, so we're going to help him," He removed the mask, pulled Frank's head even further back, held his mouth open and started inserting a metal object down his throat. "Sorry, I know this is invasive, but it'll help him…what happened to his neck?" He asked, took a piece of tube and fed it down the middle of the metal now pushed down deep into Frank's trachea. He then slid the metal instrument free, leaving the tubing there which he connected to the mask before reapplying it to Frank's face.

"Someone hanged him and he's been shot here." Fenton explained, and indicated to Frank's shoulder where he still bore down on the compress.

"Uh-huh…complicated." The EMT turned the hand-pump over to another paramedic to breath for Frank, and glanced around, "l need a neck brace...ah." He indicated to a third paramedic, who held that particular piece of equipment, to bring it to him. Someone took over for Fenton, applying pressure to Frank's shoulder and adding more packing and gauze bandaging. Fenton stood and finally went to his other son.

"Will he be okay?" Joe asked the EMT as Fenton pulled him to his feet and hugged him tightly.

"He'll be fully assessed at the hospital…what happened to you?"

"Worry about my brother, I'll wait." Joe returned his father's embrace, then he and Fenton went to Con and they huddled momentarily to talk.

Con said, "I'll stay to help clear up this mess." He dropped his voice, "We need to get our stories straight later about what happened here tonight. I'll be as succinct with Ezra as I can."

Behind them, the paramedics and officers rolled and slid Frank onto a backboard and quickly strapped him to it.

"If anyone asks you before we get together - Fen, tell them you're not thinking straight. Play the worried father card. And Joe, you're concussed and confused, understood?"

They were carrying Frank away.

"Won't be difficult." Fenton muttered, and followed Frank with his arm around Joe.

They passed Ezra as he stepped into the clearing and headed for Con. He stopped mid-way, gaping in amazement at the scene before him. His eyes found the Red-Headed Man's corpse and he looked for a good while. Eventually, he tore his gaze away, "What happened here? Who gave you a fat lip? And…who's he?" He flipped a thumb at the body.

"The man who gave me the fat lip, beat on Joe and tried to murder Frank. It's the psychopath who set his sights on Frank and kidnapped Nancy. He's how she ended up here with the damage to her face, maybe even worse."

"Huh. I'll have a female officer talk with her later."

"I had to take him out, Chief; a case of him or Frank…him or us, actually." Con went and picked up the gun. He offered it to his former boss. "Here." Ezra delved into his pocket for an evidence bag, and Con dropped it in.

Ezra handed the bag to one of his officers, and directed his flashlight beam at the Red-Headed Man's hand. "What's with the rope?"

"Goes with the noose over there. We took it from around Frank's neck."

"And her?" He redirected his light at the other body.

"It's the woman who slipped the drug into Frank's drink. Looks like the psychopath did her in. Same MO as what he did to Vanessa."

Collig's eyebrows shot up. "That's what Fenton referenced earlier? When he said something had blown up in your faces about Vanessa?"

"She didn't return from New York in full health. You should see her neck, it's raw, you can see his hand prints on her! If it wasn't for James—" Con grimaced and turned away. "She's my daughter now, I'm supposed to protect her." He decided to get off that raw subject line. "We got photographic proof he attacked both girls. He sent them to Frank to torment him."

Ezra's eyes darkened. "Sounds like you did the world a favor taking him out of it." He turned to his squad who listened in silence. "Get this place cordoned off and get forensics here and spotlights. Everyone's been walking about the area contaminating everything, but it seems an open and shut case of self-defence to me." He turned to Con and dropped his voice. "Or at least a clear case of someone who deserved what he had coming."

Con held his gaze and they watched each other.

Ezra broke the silence. "Good thing one of you thought to randomly bring a foil blanket with them," he said and tipped his chin towards the abandoned item.

"Frank thought of everything." Con said evenly. Yes, Chief of Police Ezra Collig wasn't a stupid man.

Con stayed dead-pan until eventually, Ezra's eyes let him go to point in the direction Fenton and Joe had gone. "Go. Your kids need you—" Ezra caught himself, "Kids…from bachelor to family man in a matter of months. Slow down, Lieutenant Riley."

"Don't you need me to stay?"

"It's no longer my place to make demands of you. You're not a cop anymore. Go…and Con?"

"Yeah?"

"Doesn't matter you're no longer a member of the BPD, you're still one of us. I trust your judgement on all matters."

"Thanks Chief." Con started to jog toward Hope Industries. He retrieved his cell and selected Fenton's number to speak to Nancy.