"Dammit!" Jim yells as he jumps off his horse and lands roughly on the ground.
He quickly walks ahead of the group of men and bends down to examine the ground more closely. Tracing the imprints with a hovering hand, he works his way around in a circle and then abruptly looks up toward the sky and takes in a calming breath.
The rest of the group watches him with leery eyes as they wait patiently for him to let them know what he has discovered. A difficult task for Nick, who shifts in his saddle as the tension coursing through his body makes him feel as though at any moment he may burst. He can tell the skill Jim possesses and trusts in his apparent expertise to guide them in the right direction. It is the images of his mother and sister being held god only knows where and by some unknown assailant, that is working to unhinge him.
Noticing the subtle shifts and tightening jaw of his volatile brother, Jarrod reaches over and places a gentle hand on Nick's arm in an effort to calm him. He knows this brother and he knows that the last few hours have been torture for them both as they race to safely bring the two most important women in their lives home.
"What is it, Jim?" Jarrod asks as he tightens his grip on his brother's arm. They are losing light as the sun has already begun its descent over the horizon and with darkness comes an end to their search until morning. The thought of their mother and Audra remaining prisoners until morning is a prospect that sends a wave of dread rippling through him.
"Looks like they stopped here for a minute and then split up," he answers as he walks to one edge of his invisible circle and squats down again, "Two of them headed this way, back toward the ranch."
"Heath!" Alpha worriedly voices the concern that is also swirling around Jim's mind.
He nods to Alpha and then locks eyes with the Barkley brothers, not missing their own looks of concern. Walking over to the opposite side from where he currently stands, he squats down again and after a few moments, he tells them what he has found.
"Three more went this way," Jim tells them as he stands back up.
"They're splitting us up," Fred shakes his head. This just gets more and more confusing. He lifts up his hat and runs his hands through his hair. Shifting slightly on the saddle, he reaches down and grabs his canteen and takes a swig.
"OF COURSE THEY ARE!" Nick hollers, unable to contain his rage any longer. Someone is toying with them, shifting the targets, and he'll be damned if he is going to let this continue. His mother and sister are missing, kidnapped, and now his brother appears to be in danger once again. Balling up his fist he pounds it into his leg in pure frustration at the tangled web they are being wrapped in. He looks over at Jarrod hoping his big brother might alleviate some of the pressure he feels.
Jarrod immediately recognizes the look in Nick's eye and knows he is struggling with the obvious game being played, one where they appear to be the pawns. This is clearly more than a simple revenge against Heath, but whether the true target is Heath or one of the other Barkleys is yet to be seen and only gets more blurred with each new event. The latest, this splitting up of the kidnappers, once again leads back to Heath. Was this their plan, to get us out of the house and take another shot at Heath?
"Nick, you continue on in search of Mother and Audra and I'll head back to the ranch. Jim, I'm assuming you would want to head back to the ranch with me?"
"No, can't Jarrod. I promised Heath I'd help you find your mother and sister and he would be hotter than the devil's pitchfork if I left before that happened," Jim answers as he looks over to Alpha. Shaking his head, wondering if this is the right call, he continues, "Alpha, you head back with Jarrod and check in on Heath."
"Yes sir, Uncle Jim!" Alpha is quick to respond, already turning his horse in the direction of the ranch.
"But, Boy," Jim sternly addresses Alpha, "Don't go doing anything stupid. You know your mama only let you come if I promised nothing would happen to you."
"I won't, Uncle Jim, I promise!"
"I'll keep on eye on him." Jarrod cuts in seeing the worry in Jim's eyes. Jim just nods his thanks and heads over to mount his steed.
"Pete, Tim, you head on back with Jarrod and Alpha," Nick barks, not wanting to waste any more time, "Joe, Lee, you come with us. Fred, which way you headed?"
"I'm coming with you, Nick," Fred answers releasing a deep sigh, "Jarrod will have more men back at the ranch and he knows the law as well as I do."
Jarrod nods to Fred in agreement and then turns to Nick, giving his arm one more squeeze, "You be careful, Nick."
"You too, Pappy," Nick says as he places his hand on top of Jarrod's and gives him one last nod wishing him good luck. Abruptly turning his horse in the direction Jim noted, he rides off with the other men following close behind.
"Frank will you stop that damn pacing, you're liable to wear a hole in the floor!" Judge Keagan yells as he rubs his temples with his thumbs.
Frank stops abruptly and smiles to himself, slightly embarrassed as he remembers he is not alone in the room. Pacing is not a normal behavior for Frank, he is not high strung and has no problem being still for any length of time, but ever since Dr. Stancliffe left to get Molly and Dr. Shurtleff went next door to go speak with the Dowlins, his keen senses seem to be on overdrive.
"Sorry, your honor," Frank apologies, walking over to lean on the wall beside the desk. He glances over at Eddie and Mark who are watching him intently. It really has only been about ten minutes since both doctors left the room.
"Something bothering you, Frank? Maybe, it'd help if you share it with the rest of us?" Eddie recommends. He has worked with Frank enough to know when something has buried itself in deep and refuses to make itself known to the dedicated lawman.
Bowing his head, Franks reels in a deep breath trying to put into words the feeling that is turning his insides into knots. He honestly does not know what exactly is causing his discomfort. He looks over to Eddie and Mark, two good men he has worked with numerous times in the past, and starts to answer his question when the door to the office slams open and Dr. Shurtleff comes barreling back inside looking as though he has aged ten years in the last few minutes.
Scurrying immediately over to his desk, he plops down in his chair and goes to reach for the drawer on the bottom left, when he finally meets their eyes and pauses in shock, as though he forgot there were others waiting in his office for his return. With one quick glance back to the drawer he allows a slight grumble of annoyance to escape his lips as he places his head in his hands. Fully aware of the four sets of eyes staring directly at him, he slowly allows his fingers to slide slowly down his face until they eventually fall onto his desk. He does nothing to hide the contempt he feels for Frank making a mockery of the institution he governs and can already see the headlines that will be strewn across the country.
"You know," his voice barely above a whisper, he turns directly to Frank, the person who brought this upon them all, "even if it is their daughter, that is not who they will be getting back. That girl has spent the last three years in a basement with Dr. Stancliffe telling her she is someone else."
Frank stands taller knowing that the words Dr. Shurtleff speaks are the truth, in fact, they are the same words he battled with as he rode away from Ophir the very first time. He is under no delusion that this is going to have a happy ending, that the Dowlins are going to leave here and life will simply return to normal. Their daughter has been held against her will, in the basement of a psychiatric facility for the last three years, three formative years in the young girl's life. Life will never be the same after today for the Dowlins and he takes full responsibility for the decision that he made in revealing to them what might have occurred in concern to their daughter.
"They're her parents. They have a right to know what happened and she has a right to get her life back," Franks fumes as he walks over to stand in front of the superintendent's desk. Placing his hands down on top of the stack of folders, he leans in closer to Dr. Shurtleff's face hoping he is making his point clear. Just as he opens his mouth to continue his rebuttal of the heartlessness he hears, that gnawing feeling that has been circling around his brain for the last ten minutes starts to unwind.
"Dr. Stancliffe has been her doctor the whole time she has been here?" Frank asks, standing back up to full height.
"Yes, and that whole time…" Dr. Shurtleff starts to answer only to be cut off by Frank dashing out of his office door.
Glancing at each other, Eddie and Mark just shrug their shoulders and take off after him leaving the other two men standing there in wonder.
The lure of nothingness pulls at his core as the veil of darkness, that has been his companion and has allowed him a moment of peace, begins its subtle descent back over the creases of his mind. As it slowly makes it way over his subconscious, it is gradually replaced with a pounding in his head so intense he fears it will cause him to go blind. Straining, he tries desperately one last time to hook the veil that has protected him, but the veil is thinning into nothing more than a thin grey mist with nothing tangible for his hooks to grab onto. He has no choice but to awaken, to come back into himself, to once again feel the pain, the pain of loss, the pain of isolation, and the physical pain from his most recent injuries. He would much rather just be allowed to fade.
Steeling himself, he tries to even out his breathing and work through the stabbing hot pokers piercing his brain as he starts to take inventory of the different parts of his body screaming out to him in agony. Aside from the unrelenting pounding in his head, his arms feel as though they are being ripped from the sockets as they bear his full weight. A sharp metal cutting into his wrists and ankles tells him that he has some kind of handcuffs or manacles holding his hands and feet together. Using his fingers he feels a rope that is attached to the short chain in between the two cuffs, the tension in the rope tells him that that is what is holding him suspended in the air.
Trying to gauge the distance between his feet and the ground, he risks the pain to try and see if his bare toes can even scrape the surface of the floor. With his cracked ribs and partially healed bullet wound already screaming out because of the position he is in, his attempts to reach the floor send searing pain coursing through him. Fighting off a wave of dizziness he abandons his attempts to touch the ground and leans his head more on his right arm as he wills himself to keep the nausea rising in his throat at bay until the room stops spinning.
Gradually gaining control, he slowly opens his right eye and dares to look around the small room. Over in the far corner, he sees the familiar boots of his brother Gene sticking out of the shadows. Working his eyes up the legs to fall on Gene's face, he feels a small amount of joy even in this the direst of circumstances. They sure wouldn't bother to lock up a dead man.
Lost in the relief he feels at his brother being alive, Heath fails to hear the sound of the door opening until the creaking steps catch his attention. With no time to play possum and try to get a handle on the situation, he does his best to stare defiantly in the face of those who plan to torment him.
"Well, well, look who decided to join us," Jed walks up and stands in Heath's face, "Are you ready to have some fun, BOY."