Johnny slowly opened his eyes and was slightly relieved to find himself looking at the inside of a sterile hospital room. He heard the mechanical beep of a heart monitor, but that was the only sound in the room. He attempted to sit up, but groaned when the action made his head swim.

"Whoa, hang on there, buddy," Bruce said, placing a hand on Johnny's chest to prevent him from sitting up. "I just called for your doctor, so let's not do anything crazy."

"Hey Bruce," Johnny said, looking up at his friend. He hadn't seen Bruce at first, but was glad that he was there.

"Hey," his friend returned the greeting.

Dr. Gibson walked into the room, glancing at Johnny's chart before looking up at her patient and smiling.

"Hello again, Johnny," Dr. Gibson said. "I thought you would've had enough of me by now."

"I figured one more visit couldn't hurt," Johnny joked.

"This one almost did," the doctor replied grimly. "You're lucky you got here when you did. We had another drug that counteracted the sedative Dr. Simmons gave you, but if you had been any later-"

Johnny cut her off with a wave of his hand. "I don't think I want to hear the rest of that sentence."

"You don't," Bruce jumped in. "I've heard it."

"So what happened?" Johnny asked, looking at his friend quizzically.

"Well, I was worried when I went to your house and you were gone. You really need to stop doing that, Johnny," he said, shaking a finger at him. "I went to Walt, and we came looking for you. Good thing we did, too. We found your jeep near the Desmond's house, partially hidden in the trees. We knew something was up, so we talked with Laura Desmond. She told us everything she'd told you. Since Alex Desmond was at the house with her, we figured you weren't taken by him, so the next logical choice was Dr. Simmons. We went to the hospital, and one of the nurses said she saw Dr. Simmons bring a new patient in that matched your description."

"What happened to Dr. Simmons?" Johnny asked.

"He was arrested at the airport, trying to catch a flight to Mexico," Bruce told him. "The man cried like a baby when he was arrested. Spilled everything."

Johnny sighed with relief. "That's good to hear."

"It's good to see you're okay too, man," Bruce said. "But don't you ever run off on my like that again."

"Yes, sir," Johnny replied with a chuckle.

Bruce opened his mouth to speak again, but there was a light knock on the door that made him close it. The door was slightly ajar from when Dr. Gibson had entered, and Johnny saw a set of eyes peeking through the crack.

"Come in," Johnny said.

The door opened, and an older man entered. He looked to be in his seventies with silver thin hair covering his head. His age didn't seem to affect his posture however, because the man stood up straight, his shoulders back with pride. He had a kind face with very intense, dark brown eyes. He wore a simple gray sweater that looked older than Johnny, a pair of nicely pressed black slacks, and very clean black shoes.

"Excuse me, Mr. Smith," the man said with a polite nod of his head at the psychic. "I don't mean to interrupt."

"That's okay," Johnny replied, glancing at Bruce and Dr. Gibson. "You're not interrupting."

Bruce and Dr. Gibson seemed to catch on their dismissal and headed towards the door.

"I'll be back in a little while to check on your vitals," the doctor said. "Just don't get out of bed. I don't want you straining yourself."

"I'll be outside getting a soda," Bruce told his friend, then they were both gone.

"You're the one that sent me the picture," Johnny said without a question in his voice.

"Yes, I am," the man confirmed.

"You know, you could've made it easier for me and sent a letter with it telling me what you wanted me to see," the blond chuckled.

The man didn't laugh, only sighed. "I was hoping you'd be able to see what was going on there without drudging up Mrs. Richardson's past with Dr. Simmons. The last thing I wanted was to disrespect her memory."

Johnny struggled up onto his elbows, letting out a quiet moan of pain as he did. His head swam momentarily, but the feeling passed as Johnny sat up in his bed to look the man in the eye as they spoke.

"You haven't disrespected her," Johnny told him. "If anything, you've done the opposite. You helped Jessica."

The man nodded, but by the look on his face, Johnny could tell he wasn't satisfied with that answer. He clasped his hands in front of him, bowing his head so he wouldn't have to look Johnny in the eyes.

"By the way," Johnny said, extending his hand. "I don't believe we've been properly introduced. Johnny Smith."

"James Cummings," the man said, grasping Johnny's hand in a firm handshake. Johnny was struck with another vision, and the final piece to this puzzle finally fell into place.

"You were the Richardsons' butler."

James nodded and bowed his head again. "I was their head butler, yes."

"So why did you send me that picture?"

"I knew something was happening to Jessica and it had to do with that doctor. At the beginning, he seemed to be the best thing that happened to Jessica. He had her on medication once she was diagnosed, and for a while, her behavior seemed to improve. She was much easier to talk to, less distracted, and she was able to concentrate for longer periods of time. We were all so grateful that we were getting our Jessica back.

"Things began changing right before her eighteenth birthday. She seemed to be regressing back to her old self. She was impossible to talk to, and she would not do her schoolwork despite prodding from me and her parents. She was even having trouble keeping up her personal hygiene. She'd forget to take showers or baths, and she'd fight her mother and me about brushing her teeth.

"We didn't know what to do, but we trusted Dr. Simmons knew what he was doing. Mrs. Richardson told me she had spoken with him about Jessica, and he told her he was doing all that he could for Jessica, but she wasn't responding to her medication anymore. He said to try higher doses, but nothing seemed to work.

"That night, Jessica hadn't returned home from school. Mr. and Mrs. Richardson were distraught and had called the school, but they told them that she had left with the other children. The two went searching for her around town, but they found no trace of her. They stopped by Dr. Simmons's office, but he hadn't seen her either. Or so he claimed."

"You knew otherwise?"

"Of course. I saw that look in his eyes. I knew he was lying. I told Mr. and Mrs. Richardson to stay home in case Jessica showed, but I went out looking for her again. I went to his office, but everything was locked up, and when I went to his home, I saw the same thing. So I returned home, only to find I was too late."

Johnny saw the man's eyes begin to water, but he took a deep breath and fought back the tears.

"I'm really sorry about what happened to them," Johnny said.

"So am I, but at least now Jessica will be safe, thanks to you, Mr. Smith," the butler replied.

"What's going to happen to her now?" Johnny asked.

"Her aunt and uncle have already gotten her a new psychiatrist. It'll be a long road to recovery, but we're all hopeful. We owe you everything, Mr. Smith. Thank you."

"Don't thank me. You're the one that saved her. I just helped a little."

The old man smiled a little, and nodded his head. "I just wanted to come here and thank you in person. You didn't have to help us, yet you did. We are all in your debt."

"You're more than welcome, Mr. Cummings."

Mr. Cummings slowly backed towards the door, giving Johnny one more appreciative look. "I'll keep you updated on Jessica's condition."

"You do that," Johnny replied with a grin. "But be sure to sign the letter. No more mysteries."

"Agreed," the man said with a small smile then he slipped out the door.

Bruce entered a few minutes later, soda in hand. "So?"

"It turns out the butler did it."