Short chapter – sorry! But I've been fighting a running battle with AOL (or A-Oh-Hell) for the last few days. So I'm posting what I can while I can! For the same reason, I can't stay online long enough to read or review the wonderful stories, that I've been enjoying so much. Please bear with me… I might need a new ISP; or possibly a new laptop…

I'm reposting this chapter to correct the glaring error pointed out to me byKASEY64. Thanks for that – and a slap on the wrist for me!

Disclaimer as in chapter one. Thanks, as ever for the reviews.

BLAME

Sam actually preceded Fenton into the police precinct – but that didn't stop him from feeling as though he still looked like a sidekick, as they strode side by side towards the Duty Sergeant's desk. But that was merely due to the conviction – the sheer authority – that Fenton carried in with him.

He walked with the air of a man who had every right to be there – and who nobody was going to stop from doing what he needed to do.

Fortunately for them, the Sergeant recognised them and the door that led them out of the public areas of the precinct was buzzed open after a mere nod of acknowledgement.

It was almost as though they were expected – and that impression was only reinforced when Con Riley was waiting for them as they walked through the door that led them into the inner sanctums and towards the Interview Rooms.

"Mason and Carr are in with him now." Con explained, as he guided them. "They're trying to get the low-down on Stafford, but he's not talking."

And then he walked them into a viewing room – and through the one-way glass, they could see the three men Con had just been talking about.

Houghton looked implacable. Mason and Carr were both turned away in barely restrained anger – their frustration palpable, even in the next room.

Collig waited for them in that room. He spoke without even looking at them – as though the words would have been said even if they hadn't walked in at that precise moment:

"Our turn now."

Fenton caught hold of the Chief's arm – ensuring that he captured his full attention. "Let me talk to him," he implored.

Collig just stared at him appraisingly for a long moment. What he saw couldn't have been too damaging, because he didn't immediately refute the idea. "You'd be playing right into his hands," he said, eventually. "His every answer to their questions was that he'd only talk to you."

"Then let's see what he's got to say." Fenton had the bit firmly between his teeth and wasn't about to be dissuaded from his course of action.

Collig sighed and Fenton knew he'd won. But there was still one more warning to come: "Before we go in, there's something you need to know."

When the Chief and Con exchanged an uncomfortable glance, Fenton knew that he was about to hear something unpleasant.

"When we searched Houghton, he had some papers on him. Papers signed by Joe." Collig frowned as he spoke. "Fenton, it was his confession."

"Anything he might have signed, he signed under duress!" Fenton's response exploded out of him – angry and outraged at the same time. He couldn't believe that his old friend had thrown that at him.

"I know." The Chief's own tone was placating. "I just didn't want Houghton throwing it at you out of left field."

"Alright, so I'm aware of that." Fenton recognised the stalling tactic he was being faced with – but it only fuelled his impatience. "Anything else?"

When both Collig and Con attempted to glance surreptitiously towards the window, he followed those glances – and then he understood.

They were trying to spare him from yet another confrontation with Mason and Carr.

Frank snuck through the doors of the Emergency Room without being challenged. And once he was inside the triage area, nobody even looked at him as though he had absolutely no right to be there.

In fact, nobody spared him a second glance. Most people couldn't even afford him a first one. Everyone was moving with such urgency and Frank knew that he was sticking out like a sore thumb: he was the only one who didn't belong there.

All around him were curtained off areas – and behind one of those curtains, he might find his brother. Or he might not. Joe might already have been whisked away for the first of the multitude of procedures the Doctor had explained to them.

He couldn't go blindly tearing the curtains aside, as much as he wanted to. He could definitely hear sounds of muted grieving coming from at least one of the cubicles. Death wasn't something he was prepared to go barging in on – not when he had so recently been a grieving relative himself.

And he'd come too damned close to becoming one again.

Lost – and hating the feeling – Frank grabbed hold of an orderly; even as the man brushed past him with an irritated grunt.

"Where can I find Doctor Kempton?" he demanded.

"Go to the desk and have her paged," the anonymous man answered, with a complete lack of interest. Frank followed him with his eyes, even as he moved towards the triage station. It came as no surprise when the orderly bumped open a fire exit, reaching into his pocket for his cigarettes as he did.

The orderly wasn't interested in helping him; he just wanted a smoke break. So Frank caught the attention of the nearest nurse.

"Doctor Kempton?" he tried again.

"She's with a patient." The woman frowned disapprovingly, but her glance gave her away – and Frank was moving even before she added: "And you shouldn't be back here!"

Finally, fortune was on Frank's side and he saw Doctor Kempton emerge from behind a curtain – deeply engrossed in the file she held. He called out to her, intending to avoid startling her – but she looked up sharply; a gasp escaping her lips.

"Mr Hardy?" She was clearly shocked by his being there. "What..?"

"I need to talk to you." Frank caught hold of her arm; bringing her to a stop when she might otherwise have brushed right past him. "It's about my brother…"

"Mr Hardy, you really can't be back here." Doctor Kempton looked busy – distracted – and she flipped through the chart she held, even as she spoke. "Your brother is having x-rays now and he's receiving the best of care."

"You don't understand." Uninvited, Frank fell into step beside her. "Joe is… He needs…" It was so hard for him to say the words aloud – when even thinking them was incredibly painful. "He…"

"Mr Hardy, you need to go back to the waiting area." Unnoticed by Frank, the Doctor had reached her destination and stood looking at him with barely veiled impatience. "Joe is going to be fine."

"He needs to be considered a suicide risk." He blurted the words out quickly – like ripping off a band-aid.

It still hurt.

Even as Fenton watched, the two FBI agents exited the Interview Room and were instantly replaced by two armed cops – who took up flanking positions on either side of the room's only door. It was clear that the Bayport PD weren't taking any chances with the felon.

Then Collig nodded once and he, Con and Fenton all left the anteroom to begin the short walk to where Houghton was being held.

Mason and Carr were waiting in the corridor.

Fenton tried hard not to instantly get his back up. He was tired of arguing with these men; after all, weren't they supposed to be on the same side?

He nodded a greeting with what he hoped was formal cordiality, but otherwise fully intended to ignore them both. Unfortunately – and predictably – that was never going to happen.

"You're wasting your time," Carr snarled, as they passed each other – and he clearly didn't share Fenton's desire to bury the hatchet and remember that they were all, ultimately, on the side of law and justice: "He's not talking."

"If he talks to anyone, then it'll be me," Fenton murmured in response; hardly even breaking his stride.

"Hey, Hardy," Mason called out – and, though his tone was much less belligerent, it was still a long way removed from being friendly. "You might want to consider it as being in your own best interest to get him to tell you where Stafford's holed up."

Those words stopped Fenton in his tracks and he turned around, slowly: "What do you mean?" he demanded.

"We've got a file on Stafford about a foot thick," Mason elaborated. "The man's a professional. And he doesn't like loose ends."

"Ezra!" Fenton could hardly believe what he'd just heard. After everything they'd been through, after daring to believe it was finally over, he didn't know how to handle yet another nightmare being thrown at them. He didn't even know how to try.

Fortunately for him, he didn't have to try and face any of it alone:

"It's okay, Fenton. I sent two officers to the hospital with Joe, simply because we didn't know Stafford's whereabouts." Ezra's calm and assured voice cut through his broken thoughts. "Riley!" he barked – causing even Fenton to jump slightly at the sheer authority in his tone: "Get on the radio and tell Myers and Hawke not to leave Joe Hardy alone – not for any reason."

Fenton took a deep breath as he realised that the latest crisis had been averted just as quickly as it had arisen. He paused for a moment and then looked Adrian Mason straight in the eyes.

"Thank you," he said simply, but with utter conviction.

Ignoring Carr completely, Fenton turned back to the Police Chief. "So let's do this," he said.

And he strode towards the Interview Room. Flinging the door open, he stepped through it to face his demon.

TBC