Chapter 21

itsmeocean@hotmail.com

Homecoming

"Frank, we have managed to contact Dr. Masters. This is the gruesome part. Twenty eight years ago, he did a third trimester abortion on a young lady. The fetus came out alive and before they could… well… someone took it away. A few years ago, he received letters sent in pretty parcels, cushioned on top of pigs' ovaries. He kept mentioning that he was the one who escaped, who adapted to his new surroundings… something about walking in the realm of the living when he was bonded to the dead- snakes shedding skin, taking on a new identity but retaining a same, old vengeful soul. Sounds like a guy who read too much horror."

"I do not like the sound of this," Joe announced jadedly after hearing the voicemail Callie left behind for the umpteenth time, "I do not like the sound of this… this…especially the snake part."

Frank twisted his lips in discomfiture, sharing the same sentiments with his brother as they drove to meet up with Agent Simon Lee early in the morning. He had called the agent, grateful and surprised that the agent was still in his office and actually greeted Frank, a stranger, with exuberating youthfulness. Long associating Fed agents with descriptions like stiff, overly intense, weary, condescending and other blahs, a stereotype which the television programs had to take huge chunk of blame for, Frank almost thought that he was speaking to the agent's son or something.

However, the number belonged to the Bureau and Frank was pretty sure that little kids were not allowed in the Bureau. Simon Lee had been cheerful at hearing from a stranger at close to twelve midnight but the news of death always managed to leave someone speechless- scrambling for the right words to say that would not sound too disrespectful.

Frank merely introduced himself and stated his motive- he wanted a copy of the fingerprint. After hearing Frank's story and finding the name 'Hardy' minutely familiar, Simon called back after doing "the checks" and arranged to meet the Hardys in a café in Arch Street, Philadelphia. Somehow, Frank wasn't surprised at his choice of location- from the telephone number; he kind of deduced that Simon Lee was stationed in the FBI's field office in 600 Arch Street, Philadelphia.

"Well, here we are." Frank turned into a parking lot as Joe looked around him, the right side of his lips curled up quizzically.

"Say, Frank. Is it going to rain? Everything looks so dark."

Despite their predicament, Frank chuckled, a little amazed that Joe, going on to twenty four soon, could still be as absentminded and goofy as before.

"Nope. There's something wrong with your eyes."

"What?" Joe turned to Frank, looking a little like a clueless Spiderman with his silver-lens wraparound shades.

Sighing in resignation, Frank lifted Joe's shades off his eyes and placed it on the dashboard. "I didn't know you had plastic surgery. I kinda prefer you with normal eyes."

Joe's cheeks turned scarlet as he scratched the back of his head and mumbled to himself incoherently. Frank thought he heard something like 'doofus' but decided to let up on his brother. They climbed out of the car and stepped inside the nondescript café. Frank looked out for a 5 feet 10, dirty-blond haired man with a wiry frame woofing down two servings of bacon and eggs, as Simon jokingly described himself. It wasn't hard to find the special agent for he was the only customer in the café at seven thirty in the morning.

"Hello. I'm Frank Hardy and this is my brother, Joe."

Simon Lee looked up- he had a baby face pleasantly crafted out of impish features. Smiling blue-green eyes shone with a natural friendliness. He stood up and pumped both their hands vigorously, like they were his long lost friends even though they had never met before. "Frank! Joe! It's great to meet you guys! Have a seat! The coffee's here taste even more excellent than ambrosia!"

"And you, my son, will soon have a nose a foot long if you keep advertising for me without facts." A kind-looking lady with the same beaming eyes stepped out from behind the counter as Frank and Joe took their seats opposite Simon. She poured two cups of coffee for them even though they didn't ask for it. Frank was pleased while Joe sniffed at his surreptitiously. Frank frowned at Joe and kicked his shin. Joe, not exactly pleased by the chiding, stamped on Frank's feet, eliciting a suppressed yelp.

"Aw mom! It's the truth! I love your coffee!"

"But have you tasted ambrosia before?"

"No… but I know it in my heart- your calling here on Earth is to make wonderful coffee!" Simon kidded with his mom while Mrs. Lee tapped Frank on the shoulder and smiled at him almost beatifically. Frank's heart was warmed, nothing like kindness from a stranger to start a day.

"I hope you boys enjoy the coffee. Simon, I'll be in the kitchen and you better not tarry."

"Nope, mom. I'm actually working here."

"Sometimes, I wonder what the Bureau sees in you." Mrs. Lee shook her head in feigned pity as she retreated back into her comfort zone.

"Hi! That's my mom! And I'm Simon… well, I'm sure both of you guessed. Want anything to eat? Don't worry… I had my mom chased out all other customers- book the whole place just for this meeting!" Simon wiped his lips with a napkin and let out a belch. Frank was beginning to like this guy already.

"Sorry… breakfast?"

"No… actually, we just want to have the print." Frank decided to jump right into the subject before Joe started to exhibit his impatience. His brother had already very subtly moved his cup of coffee over to Frank's side of the table. Joe's dislike for the beverage would not waver even if someone presented him with a barrel full of authentic Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee beans, something which made Frank, an avid coffee addict, almost bankrupt in his broke, college years.

"Oh yes." Simon clamped his mouth shut, looking at Joe sympathetically. "I'm terribly sorry to hear about your daughter."

"Hmm." Joe grunted. A nudge of his knee from Frank's prompted Joe to try smiling.

Simon took no offense though. He reached inside his briefcase on the chair beside him and drew out a brown file. "This is a copy of another copy of course. This case is put on hold and currently, I'm not dealing with it anymore since I'm posted back to Philadelphia and it's within the jurisdiction of our Boston office. But yes, I do have the print. We are kinda stuck on this case and from what you told me last night, I gathered you made some pretty good progress. It's a shame Prof. Summers died. You think it have much to do with the case?"

Frank took the file thankfully and flipped through it. "Maybe. The gouged entrails is not a random act- it's symbolic. I won't be surprised if his reproductive organs are mutilated in one way or another."

"Interesting guess," Simon winced in phantom pain, "You haven't talked to the police?"

Frank shook his head, "No, there wasn't time to get embroiled in their interrogations yesterday. I may pay them a visit later."

Joe coughed loudly and beckoned for the file. Frank passed it to Joe. Hopefully, Joe would not feel too left out of this conversation. Simon Lee was finding it easier to address Frank, unintentionally ignoring Joe in the process.

"If this turns out to be by the same guy responsible for the kidnappings, it's onto our side. So far, they haven't called us yet about it but I assure you, flags will be raised soon. Man, I wish they put me back on this one. You'll want to speak to Detective Mike Thorton about it. He supervises the Homicide Case Unit of our fine police department here. A dear friend of mine, actually, and not a big fan of Summers having being snubbed by the professor twice. I'll give him a call. He will be more than willing to speak to you two."

"Thanks." Frank sincerely replied. He was about to sip his coffee when Joe suddenly gripped his wrist painfully, almost causing some hot coffee to spill over. Groaning inwardly, the mistake in letting Joe read the case file wailed sirens in his mind. Last night, while he told Joe about his findings, he left out quite a few details. Joe was under the impression that there was still hope that the kidnapped children were still alive somewhere.

"The children's bodies?" Joe looked up, staring at Frank incredulously. Frank gritted his teeth in awkwardness, not knowing how to answer his brother. That was why he had lost it last night- because the gruesome findings had such a terrible impact on his perception of the girls' predicament, Frank thought it was better to keep Joe in the dark about certain things.

Careless, Hardy! Careless!

Simon glanced shrewdly at Joe and then at Frank, knowing at once what had transpired but wisely stayed out of it.

"The bodies were found in the same pond… which was how they found the link that the kidnapper's the same guy…" Frank spoke softly; sipping his coffee in discomfiture after Joe released the death grip.

"I know…" Joe raised his voice a note higher than usual, "It's all typed out here in prominent font! How wonderful! Remember the water hole, Frank? Maybe he wasn't there but Hallie was only that we searched the cabin instead of dredging for her body from the hole!"

"Joe…" Frank narrowed his eyes painfully, "Later, all right?"

"Later? Like when were you going to tell me? If you haven't forgotten the lies you told, you wouldn't even let me read this!" Joe fumed, slamming the file onto the table. It was then Simon decided to butt in before he had to witness anymore ugliness. The agent cleared his throat.

"Well…there's something which will definitely be of interest to you. It wasn't me who contacted Prof. Summers for his help in this case, as I have spoken, this case is put on hold since the kidnapper seemed to have stopped his activities. Professor Summers, on his own accord, pulled some strings and knew about my involvement in this case and contacted me, stating his interest. Now, this case is not really highly profiled and I don't think knowledge of it is readily available. You may say that the professor and we move in overlapping circles but I really suspect the origins of his interest in it."

"So, what drives him to undertake this research is a mystery…" Frank leaned forward in his interest, trying desperately to avoid eye contact with Joe at the same time.

"Yes… and he never really told me. I wish I had asked him… but… well…" Simon shook his head a little dejectedly. "He wasn't the most pleasant guy around but I really hope he's in a nice place now. After all, he helped us put some of the vilest criminals into the arms of justice."

"Thanks for your help." Frank stood up and offered his hand to Simon. Joe did the same as well, though without the same friendliness. Simon nodded and cocked his head at the file.

"Ahm… I'm lending you the file… so…"

"Yes. I understand." Frank assured him, smiling lightly. Joe tapped his feet, clearly tired of this meeting and bursting with angry words to say.

"If you need anymore help, feel free to call me. I'm quite sure we will actually reopen the case soon. I'm a sucker for any help at all. It's great meeting you, Frank Hardy… and you too, Joe."

***

Callie woke up to a rumbling sensation- her left thigh hurt but it seemed to be bandaged up. When she opened her eyes, she saw nothing but a black void. Blindfolded. The sounds of a noisy engine were deafening and it was very hot and suffocating where she was lying, no… caged in.  As she became more aware, she realized that she was in a trunk of a vehicle, traveling on a rocky path. Her hands were tied tightly behind her back- numbed from the lack of circulation. Her faculty of speech was hampered by a ball gag.

Out of natural instinct, Callie struggled against her bonds as muffled sounds of defiance escaped from the gag.

Abruptly, the vehicle rolled to a stop. The creaking sound of the trunk's lid being open brought some release from her claustrophobia. The suffocating heat let up somewhat and someone roughly carried her out of the trunk and then forcing her on her feet. Wriggling against the man's brusque grip, she cringed when the man found some humor in her disobedience as he laughed cruelly at her futile efforts.

"You must be wondering where your partner is. Let's just say she's sleeping soundly at home, darling."

She was shoved rudely forward from behind and then, he stilled her to a halt.  Gripping her left shoulder hard with one hand, he removed her blindfold with the other. Scrunching her eyes immediately at the sudden assault of light, Callie peeled her eyelids open slowly and saw that she was standing in front of window of a tumbledown cabin in some forest. Looking through the dusty window pane, she saw the small, tiny figure of Hallie tied to a chair, seemingly sedated. Her once rosy cheeks were bruised and smudged with dirt and the sleeves of her dirtied floral dress was ripped, revealing ugly scratches. Flies buzzed around an overturned bowl of something and there was a covered up box on the rotting table.

"MMF! MMFF…" Callie wrestled against the man by flinging her shoulders violently this way and that. He kicked her injured thigh and she fell onto her knees, moaning in pain.

"Darling… you see that? You see the dear little girl? You wanted to find her right? Now that you have found her, guessed what? Your purpose over… unless I think of something for you. Now, we have to go somewhere else."

Where? Hallie! Let me be with Hallie!

He knelt down and tilted her chin up forcefully so she was looking up in his dispassionate black eyes like twin black holes, sucking in her fear. She so wanted to spit onto the hateful face now that he was not wearing his mask. Small, dead black eyes, a crooked nose and thin lips; he would look pretty ordinary had it not been for the malevolence behind his detached features.

"You're very pretty."

Bastard! Go to hell!

"You'll give me many beautiful children."

He leaned over and kissed her forehead. As his lips touched her skin, she felt like she was violated by the icy skin of a snake. The brief tenderness over, he dragged her up to her feet painfully forced her to walk over to the car. Gradually aware of the stench of a stagnant body of water mingling stingingly with the fragrance of flora and fauna, she threw her head over her left shoulder and saw an isolated pond hidden behind a cluster of trees.

Before she could note down anything else of her surroundings, he carried her up and squashed her into the trunk again. Callie screamed mutedly as the metallic lid slammed down, leaving her in frightening darkness again.

Have faith, Callie. Frank will find you. He will!

And when he does, you have to lead him to Hallie if he hadn't found her yet. Think, Callie. Think!

As the car rolled away, Callie closed her eyes, trying to get a sense of the car's speed and regain her bearings.

Then she did the only thing she could. She started counting.