Road to Heaven
Chapter Nine
"What is wrong with your brother?" Fenton demanded of Frank after Joe had left.
Frank shrugged, running a hand through his hair as he sat back down on the sofa. "I don't know," he replied. "He's been argumentive and a general pain almost all summer."
Fenton gave a sigh as he sat back down. "I should have realized," he said with the smile of a man who had lived through this particular crisis before. "Joe has hit his rebellious stage."
"His what?" Frank asked in disbelief.
"Relax," Fenton soothed his eldest son. "Every teenager goes through it at some point in time. Even you."
"Me?" Frank squeaked in disbelief. "I've never rebelled."
"You don't remember being grounded for skipping school your freshman year and then sneaking out during your grounding to go to the movies?" Fenton tweaked Frank's memory. "Or keeping your stereo up so loud and refusing to turn it down. Your mother and I took it away from you so you took your brother's and cranked it up as high as it would go."
"Okay, okay," Frank said, his face a dull red. "I get the picture. But this is not a good time for Joe to be out on his own," he added in concern.
"It's never a good time," Fenton said. "But I know what you mean. From what you've told me, Kenny's killers must have seen you and Joe escaping. Did you get a look at them?"
Frank gave his father the same information he had given to Chief Collig. Fenton frowned. "The one with the beard and long hair saounds like it could be Kurt Smyte," he told Frank. "Mikeal asked me to find Terry and send him home now because his source had told him Smyte and Benton were in Bayport and in the midst of a big deal."
"What can we do?" Frank asked.
Fenton frowned. "I wish yoour brother hadn't taken off," he said. "I don't like you, either of you, being without back-up."
"I won't be," Frank assured his father. "Joe may be going through this phase as you say, but he would never let me down."
"I know," Fenton replied with a smile. "Find Joe and stake out Benton's house. He has rented a place on Crawford Lane. It's a dead-end road and his is the only place up there."
"Not a great place for a hide-out," Frank said. "What if there's a raid?"
"There's a chopper pad in back," Fenton told Frank. "Take your cell phone but only use it in an emergency. I don't know if they have the means to pick-up your conversation but I would rather you didn't chance it," he added. "I'm going to check into the deal Mikeal told me about. It's supposed to be going down sometime during the next few days."
Frank left his father and returned to the van. For some reason he felt slightly uneasy when he noted the abscense of the men who had been near the building when he and Joe had arrived. He unlocked the van and climbed inside. Immediately, he saw Joe's note and frowned in frustration. He would just have to go on the stakeout alone. He drove home to let his mom know and pick up some sandwiches and a thermos of kool-aid then, deciding it would be easier to hide his motorcycle, he pulled it out of the garage and rode it to Crawford Lane.
He pulled off the road and hid the cycle behind some overgrown bushes. Then he cautiously made his way closer to the house. He picked out a tree and climbed up, making himself as comfortable as possible among the branches and leaves.
He slipped out of his back pack and placed it securely against the trunk of the tree. He opened it up and removed a pair of binoculars. Looking through them he observed a white Toyota parked near the rear of the house. He could see one man with short black hair in the kitchen opening the refrigerator and pulling out two beers. The man disappeared from sight as he left the kitchen.
The hours dragged by. It was almost dark when another car headed up the drive. Frank looked through the binoculars so he could get a closer look at the driver. The man got out of the car and went inside. A few minutes later, Frank could see the men in the kitchen. He climbed down from the tree and crept up to the kitchen window. They were talking about a baseball game. Frank frowned as he listened. He was totally wasting his time here.
Tired, he decided to go home and get Joe. He would get some more sandwiches and they would come back. Leaving his backpack up the tree, he returned to his motorcycle and headed home.
Frank pulled into the drive and parked his motorcycle, not bothering to take it into the garage. Inside he found his mother watching a thriller on cable. "Where's Joe?" he asked.
"He hasn't gotten in yet," she said, a little worried. "He hasn't even called."
"Don't worry," Frank said, giving her a peck on the cheek. "He's always late."
Laura smiled at her son as she picked up the remote and turned the television off. She stood up and stretched. "I think I'll go to bed," she said. "Wake me if Joe doesn't get home soon."
Frank shook his head. "Dad asked me to do a stake out," he told her. "Nothing was happening so I came back to get Joe and something to eat."
"You're going back even though Joe's not home?" she asked, not sure she heard right.
Frank nodded. "If he's in trouble, he'll be there," he told his mother. "If he does come home, I'll leave a note for him to go to Crawford Lane and give me a break."
"All right," his mother said. "But be careful and keep a look-out for your brother."
"I will," he promised, going into the kitchen. Laura followed and shooed him out. She stold him she would make some sanwiches while he took a shower. Frank looked down at his shirt and shorts and wrinkled his nose. "Yeah," he agreed with her. "Hanging out in a tree all day is a dirty prospect. He ran upstairs and showered. Coming out, he pulled on a tee shirt and a pair of jeans. The evening air was a bit cooler and Frank had a feeling a storm was brewing.
He grabbed a jacket, just in case, and returned to the kitchen where his mother gave him the sandwiches and a cold bottle of water. He kissed her good night and returned to the house on Crawford Lane.
Frank climbed back up the tree and retrieved his backpack. He found another observation point, on the ground this time, closer to the house and set up sentry. As the night wore on, the wind picked up. Frank put his jacket on, shivering as he watched a streak of lightening light up the distant sky.
He looked at his watch and felt the first raindrop. Almost five a.m. He couldn't stay out here in the storm. He was going to have to go back home. He frowned as he thought about Joe. Why hadn't he come to relieve him? Had something happened to him?
The answer came suddenly and frighteningly as he heard a loud cry for help. Frank's face paled as he recognized the cry as one from his brother.
Chapter Nine
"What is wrong with your brother?" Fenton demanded of Frank after Joe had left.
Frank shrugged, running a hand through his hair as he sat back down on the sofa. "I don't know," he replied. "He's been argumentive and a general pain almost all summer."
Fenton gave a sigh as he sat back down. "I should have realized," he said with the smile of a man who had lived through this particular crisis before. "Joe has hit his rebellious stage."
"His what?" Frank asked in disbelief.
"Relax," Fenton soothed his eldest son. "Every teenager goes through it at some point in time. Even you."
"Me?" Frank squeaked in disbelief. "I've never rebelled."
"You don't remember being grounded for skipping school your freshman year and then sneaking out during your grounding to go to the movies?" Fenton tweaked Frank's memory. "Or keeping your stereo up so loud and refusing to turn it down. Your mother and I took it away from you so you took your brother's and cranked it up as high as it would go."
"Okay, okay," Frank said, his face a dull red. "I get the picture. But this is not a good time for Joe to be out on his own," he added in concern.
"It's never a good time," Fenton said. "But I know what you mean. From what you've told me, Kenny's killers must have seen you and Joe escaping. Did you get a look at them?"
Frank gave his father the same information he had given to Chief Collig. Fenton frowned. "The one with the beard and long hair saounds like it could be Kurt Smyte," he told Frank. "Mikeal asked me to find Terry and send him home now because his source had told him Smyte and Benton were in Bayport and in the midst of a big deal."
"What can we do?" Frank asked.
Fenton frowned. "I wish yoour brother hadn't taken off," he said. "I don't like you, either of you, being without back-up."
"I won't be," Frank assured his father. "Joe may be going through this phase as you say, but he would never let me down."
"I know," Fenton replied with a smile. "Find Joe and stake out Benton's house. He has rented a place on Crawford Lane. It's a dead-end road and his is the only place up there."
"Not a great place for a hide-out," Frank said. "What if there's a raid?"
"There's a chopper pad in back," Fenton told Frank. "Take your cell phone but only use it in an emergency. I don't know if they have the means to pick-up your conversation but I would rather you didn't chance it," he added. "I'm going to check into the deal Mikeal told me about. It's supposed to be going down sometime during the next few days."
Frank left his father and returned to the van. For some reason he felt slightly uneasy when he noted the abscense of the men who had been near the building when he and Joe had arrived. He unlocked the van and climbed inside. Immediately, he saw Joe's note and frowned in frustration. He would just have to go on the stakeout alone. He drove home to let his mom know and pick up some sandwiches and a thermos of kool-aid then, deciding it would be easier to hide his motorcycle, he pulled it out of the garage and rode it to Crawford Lane.
He pulled off the road and hid the cycle behind some overgrown bushes. Then he cautiously made his way closer to the house. He picked out a tree and climbed up, making himself as comfortable as possible among the branches and leaves.
He slipped out of his back pack and placed it securely against the trunk of the tree. He opened it up and removed a pair of binoculars. Looking through them he observed a white Toyota parked near the rear of the house. He could see one man with short black hair in the kitchen opening the refrigerator and pulling out two beers. The man disappeared from sight as he left the kitchen.
The hours dragged by. It was almost dark when another car headed up the drive. Frank looked through the binoculars so he could get a closer look at the driver. The man got out of the car and went inside. A few minutes later, Frank could see the men in the kitchen. He climbed down from the tree and crept up to the kitchen window. They were talking about a baseball game. Frank frowned as he listened. He was totally wasting his time here.
Tired, he decided to go home and get Joe. He would get some more sandwiches and they would come back. Leaving his backpack up the tree, he returned to his motorcycle and headed home.
Frank pulled into the drive and parked his motorcycle, not bothering to take it into the garage. Inside he found his mother watching a thriller on cable. "Where's Joe?" he asked.
"He hasn't gotten in yet," she said, a little worried. "He hasn't even called."
"Don't worry," Frank said, giving her a peck on the cheek. "He's always late."
Laura smiled at her son as she picked up the remote and turned the television off. She stood up and stretched. "I think I'll go to bed," she said. "Wake me if Joe doesn't get home soon."
Frank shook his head. "Dad asked me to do a stake out," he told her. "Nothing was happening so I came back to get Joe and something to eat."
"You're going back even though Joe's not home?" she asked, not sure she heard right.
Frank nodded. "If he's in trouble, he'll be there," he told his mother. "If he does come home, I'll leave a note for him to go to Crawford Lane and give me a break."
"All right," his mother said. "But be careful and keep a look-out for your brother."
"I will," he promised, going into the kitchen. Laura followed and shooed him out. She stold him she would make some sanwiches while he took a shower. Frank looked down at his shirt and shorts and wrinkled his nose. "Yeah," he agreed with her. "Hanging out in a tree all day is a dirty prospect. He ran upstairs and showered. Coming out, he pulled on a tee shirt and a pair of jeans. The evening air was a bit cooler and Frank had a feeling a storm was brewing.
He grabbed a jacket, just in case, and returned to the kitchen where his mother gave him the sandwiches and a cold bottle of water. He kissed her good night and returned to the house on Crawford Lane.
Frank climbed back up the tree and retrieved his backpack. He found another observation point, on the ground this time, closer to the house and set up sentry. As the night wore on, the wind picked up. Frank put his jacket on, shivering as he watched a streak of lightening light up the distant sky.
He looked at his watch and felt the first raindrop. Almost five a.m. He couldn't stay out here in the storm. He was going to have to go back home. He frowned as he thought about Joe. Why hadn't he come to relieve him? Had something happened to him?
The answer came suddenly and frighteningly as he heard a loud cry for help. Frank's face paled as he recognized the cry as one from his brother.