Psychedelic Hollow 15

itsmeocean@hotmail.com

The unassuming picket fence house with white walls and a navy blue roof brought an odd sense of familiarity to Nancy even though she had never seen it before. It looked nothing like her father's house back in River Heights and definitely a far cry from her own apartment in New York City, where she now isolate herself in with her work. Yet, somehow, its simplicity was cozy to the eye and Nancy couldn't help the slow smile that crept up her lips. Now, the house wasn't a grandiose affair and neither did it broadcast modernity and good taste. Yet, it was so easy to imagine a happy little family living inside with two little children, a boy and a girl, playing catch in the backyard.

And the ease of attaching a dream to the nondescript house, to her, was the evidence of impeccable architecture.

The brief moment of day-dreaming over, she walked up to the house through the open gates. A relatively safe town, the residents of Bayport could still afford the luxury of leaving their gates yawning wide. Nancy envied that and was momentarily stricken with home-sickness- it was the same in River Heights but in the city, to protect her little apartment, she had bolted four locks on her door and installed a state-of-the-art burglar alarm.

Nancy's knocks on the French-styled front door was quickly answered by a bright-eyed, curly-haired lady of in her late twenties at most with an apron tied around her waist. She flashed her FBI card and inquired with a genuine smile, "Hello, Lisa McCain? I'm Agent Drew, FBI."

"Ahm, yup. That's me! FBI?" She took the card from Nancy and inspected it nervously, "Is anything wrong?"

Not reading too much into Lisa's anxious expression, knowing that was most likely the reaction of people suddenly called upon by the Bureau, Nancy took the card back and spoke reassuringly, "I just need your help in an investigation. May I come in?"

"Yes, of course…" Lisa unlatched the chain holding the door chair and swung it fully opened, standing to one side, allowing Nancy to pass, "Do you mind following me into the kitchen? I have to watch over my cooking."

"I don't mind at all. Smells good." Nancy commented as she followed Lisa into a functional and clean kitchen. A pot was simmering stew on the stove while a chicken was grilled in the oven and the kitchen had a smell that reminded Nancy of butterscotch. She sat on a small stool over by a tiny round table cluttered with a chopping board, vegetables' remnants and opened bottles and jars of sauces and seasonings. Lisa blushed embarrassedly, hastening to clear up the mess.

"I'm sorry. I am preparing dinner." Lisa swept the unwanted leftovers into a plastic bag and threw it into the bin. Next, as Nancy made herself comfortable, she gathered up the chopper and brought it to the sink. Nancy observed as Lisa's brown curls swung to-and-fro as she spun abruptly to the left than right, as if she needed to do something desperately but forgotten what the task was.

"I just need your assistance to answer some customary questions, that's all. You don't have to be so flustered."

"Water! That's it." Lisa clapped her hands, smiling widely. Ignoring Nancy, she poured two glasses of water and set them before Nancy after which she took a seat across the table.

"How can I help you? Do drink the water. It's really hot outside and you must be thirsty."

"Thanks…" Nancy took a sip, hovering her pen over her notebook. "Miss McCain, do you know about your brother's, Kevin McCain, warehouses down at Bayport Industrial Park?"

"Yes, of course. Bad investments but Kev's the businessman, not me. Maybe he saw something in the future value?" Lisa gestured around vaguely, "I'm sorry. I'm not really well-versed in such things. Kev complained about them with Maria and Toby during some of our weekly dinners and they kind of left me out. Is there something wrong with the warehouses?"

"No, nothing is wrong. Who is Maria and Toby?" Nancy asked, her interest piqued.

"Maria's my brother's wife. And Toby is my fiancé." She threw Nancy a toothy smile and flashed her right hand at Nancy, showing off a ring set with a large diamond on the fourth finger, "We are getting married in a couple of months time."

Nice… must be terribly expensive…

"… told him he doesn't need to get me such a ring since he doesn't really earn much as a salesman in B.G's Electronics, but he said I'm worth every penny…"

Salesman? That looks like something celebrities' buy, not salesmen…

"…pretty isn't it? I must be the luckiest woman alive…" Lisa clasped her hands together, a whimsical expression gracing her mien. Nancy smiled tightly and nodded, humoring the besotted young woman.

Everyone's engage nowadays. Bah.

"I'm sorry… what is it you want again?" Breaking from her personal reverie, Lisa looked blurrily at Nancy who shook her head smilingly.

"It's ok. Lisa, what are you working as?"

"Me? I don't have a job. Toby said he'll provide for me." Lisa answered with a tinge of pride, "He bought the house, gave me a supplementary card… I have everything I need with him."

Hmm, looks like you're a pretty simple home-maker. I hate to think this but you must be pretty dumb to not suspect anything when Toby, a salesman, can afford to give you such luxury without you having to chip in even a penny.

Nancy kept her thoughts to herself but decided to not pressure Lisa anymore. Accessing Lisa to be someone who would spill everything and anything to those around her, she would rather probe for more sensitive information from someone else and hope Lisa magically forgot about her visit.

"Thank you for your time, Lisa. I'll be off now." Nancy stood up and Lisa wore the most disappointed look on her face.

"Do you want to stay a little longer and try some of the butterscotch cookies I just baked? They are very good!"

"No thanks. I'm watching my figure." Nancy declined politely, "Thank you again."

"No problem… I hope I have been of help and that my brother isn't in trouble or anything." Lisa stood up as well and showed Nancy to the door, "Drop by anytime you want! It's really nice talking to you!"

Is this woman for real? Nancy mused as she left, following the details written on her notebook to Kevin's McCain's house. The siblings stayed only a few streets away and the entire journey took her at most twenty minutes. Ambling up the unit amongst a row of handsome American vintage town houses, Nancy knocked on the functional front door a few times but received no replies. Frowning, she tried one more time to no avail. Clucking her tongue in disappointment, she turned and walked towards the car when she heard the door swung opened. Immediately, she half-turned her body to find a dapper woman in a very smart blouse and crisp, stylish jeans standing at the entrance.

"My apologies. I was in the bathroom and my husband and children are not in. May I help you?"

"Are you Maria McCain?" Nancy fully turned around, walked back up to the house and flashed her card, "I'm Agent Drew, FBI."

"Oh…" The woman seemed mildly shocked but quickly regained her composure. Smiling politely, she stood aside to let Nancy pass, "I'm Maria McCain but you can call me Maria. Is anything wrong?"

Hah. Same question. Of course when I visit someone I don't know out of the blue, usually, something is wrong.

"I'll just like to ask a few questions regarding your husband's warehouses down by Bayport Industrial park." Nancy indicated towards the couch in the living room and Maria rushed over, embarrassed for lingering by the door when she was supposed to be the host.

"Please, sit down. Of course. What do you want to ask about the warehouses?" Maria sat down on the armchair adjacent to Nancy's long couch, worry flashing past her deep-set but narrow blue-green eyes, "I thought my husband has answered the police's queries…"

"Yes, but I'll just to ask a few questions, if you don't mind." Nancy looked around the sparsely furnished living space nonchalantly, taking out her notebook from her pocket at the same time. Besides the couch, armchair, a plain coffee table and a boxy television set with a family photo- obviously taken of late showing a heavyset man with one arm around his attractive wife and the other resting on one of their two daughters who appeared to be twins with mark resemblance to their mother- there was no other furniture, not even an ornament to warm up the rather cramp area. "Just moved in?"

Maria's cheeks flushed a faint shade of pink, "Yes, rather recent. We can't resist this charming little place. The rest of the furniture will arrive soon."

"Ah…I see." Nancy noted her observations in her mind first, not wanting to alert Maria more than she already had. She nodded towards the photo and arched a curious brow, "Your children are lovely. How old are they?"

"Jen and Anna are twins- both eight years old." Maria replied, a soft smile on her lips, "Extremely hyperactive."

"I know the kind." Nancy remarked with an empathetic lopsided grin. "They like the move?"

"Rather. Though they do wish to go back to the old house- the garden and the pool…" Maria let slipped and coughed awkwardly, "But Kevin thought it was such a waste since there are only four of us, you know. We should live more humbly, lest our wealth spoil the kids."

"Hmm, not all parents are willing to make such sacrifices in luxury to prevent their kids from being spoiled."

"We are pretty strict on that. Jen was showing signs of snobbishness and we thought this may be the only way, albeit a little drastic." Maria shrugged, "About the warehouses?"

"Oh, yes. Your husband told me that only you and his sister, Lisa, know about the warehouses he bought years back. Is that true or maybe there's someone he missed out?" Nancy feigned ignorance of the knowledge about 'Toby', hoping that Maria would be forthcoming with the information without rousing too much suspicion. Lisa had already mentioned that Kevin discussed it pretty often with Toby and Maria but Kevin had not brought up Toby's name to the police. It could be a slip or something more- before she established the reason behind Kevin's sheltering of Toby's name, she would go with what Kevin reported to the police.

Maria knitted her brows, "Lisa and me. The children I guess. But they are inconsequential…"

"Have you or, to your knowledge, Lisa spoken about it to anyone else?"

"It's such a terrible investment; I'll rather keep it to myself. He bought it when the prices were atrociously expensive. Lisa… Lisa could have… oh yes!" Maria pushed her fringe back, her eyes widening with recollection, "And Toby. That's Lisa's fiancé. Yes, he asked Kevin once during one of our weekly dinners about the warehouses and sometimes, we will joke about it. But we haven't brought up the subject for a long time."

Bingo.

"Do you know Toby's full name? What is he like?"

"Tobias Anderson. He's an okay chap, I guess. Stays with Lisa. I may be the wrong person to ask about his character because I don't… well…" Maria twisted her lips to one side, her eyes narrowing, "He seemed to know how to make a lot of money moonlighting but I never ask him about it. There's something about him that I can't put a finger to… . But it's not in my place to say anything. Kevin seemed to grow used to him and Lisa loves him. He's pretty decent."

Nancy jotted down the description into her notebook, biting into her lower lip as she ruminated over what she had just heard, "So, this weekly dinner. Is it a regular thing?"

Maria shook her head, "Used to be. Kevin was rather religious about it before because Lisa and him are very close. Come Wednesday and, sometimes, Friday, nights, the house will be splitting apart with their laughter. But Lisa's spending more time with Toby now, busy with wedding preparations, work, whatever. They don't come over often anymore and we don't get invited to go over."

"I'm sorry to hear that…" Nancy commented off-handedly. Maria waved a dismissive hand, rolling her eyes wryly.

"Don't be. Less cooking, less noise. It didn't used to be that bad when it's only Lisa. I enjoyed having her around. But Toby likes to drink and stay on for so long that I wonder if he hated going home."

Hmm…food for thought?

Definitely.

"I think that's about it all, Maria. Thank you for your help." Nancy stood up and extended a hand. Standing up, Maria took it and gave it firm shake.

"It's my pleasure, Agent Drew. I'm glad I can be of help. My husband too gave the police everything he knows. The way those kids hijacked our warehouses gave me an idea. I think it'll be great if we can convert into some sort of pubs- one side jazz, the other side, well, pop-ish. Of course without the drugs. What do you think?" Maria glanced at Nancy, genuinely interested in her opinions, "I don't do the club scene anymore now that I have kids. But you look like a woman who will appreciate a drink to unwind after work. Do you think it'll some appeal to the higher-income young preppies in search of an alternative venue to chill out instead the usual pubs in town?"

"Yes, it may… sounds like a good idea. But you'll have to be careful of the security over there. It's after all, an industrial area, and can be pretty quiet and eerie during night-time, not to mention, out of the way." Nancy opined, "But it sounds cool. Probably a niche market."

Maria clapped her hands beamingly, "I know it'll be. If the idea takes off, I'll give you a lifetime VIP card. Two if you introduce more friends over."

Nancy chuckled lowly, showing herself to the door, glad that Maria warmed up in time to her to be more free-flowing with information, "Sure. Thanks again."

"Oh, pardon my manners." Maria raced ahead of her towards the door, opening it for Nancy, "Have a good day."

"You too, Maria. And thanks again." Nancy bade her farewell and went to the car with enough new angles and suspects to chew over, definitely keeping her busy for the rest of the night.

Too busy to sulk over Frank Hardy.

***

"Strychnine… over-killed pills… Strychnine."  Frank mulled over a copy of the lab report that Con Riley had quite freely given the Hardys. Joe swiveled left and right in his chair, too sore over his failure to get Colin to open up to think clearly. After the police were done with Colin, Joe lingered behind to talk to him, hoping to appeal to some conscience inside for a glimmer of information that can help Justin. When it was obvious Colin was clamping his mouth shut, Joe gave up (for the day) and left to visit Justin. Conrad sat beside his comatose brother like a statue, just watching his brother slumber. Seeing Justin incapacitated made Joe carve a promise on his chest to see that the truth be revealed. And his gut feeling was telling him that Justin didn't spike his girlfriend's drink. Now, Joe needed the facts to either back-up his instincts or demolished them.

Facts that he knew Colin had.

"You know Joe, contaminated Ecstasy pills isn't that common. In fact, by statistics, it's pretty rare, though, still a concern. More die from overdose or reactions to taking the drug, especially in badly ventilated places. So I find this Strychnine very suspicious. Why not I postulate…" Frank set the report aside and leaned over the work desk, tracing small circles in the air with his pen.

"Supposed this Rofomyn case finally had a leak that the culprits want to plug in before it's too late. Somehow, Colin had something to do with Kimberly's death and the pills were given to silence him and Justin. It wouldn't raise brows if two stoned out kids died consuming contaminated Ecstasy pills since such cases occurred before, though pretty uncommon. They can blame it on a bad batch. To make sure Colin and Justin die, pills with a higher dosage of MDMA were also given. It wouldn't be too much trouble getting them to consume those pills. Both are heavy users and Justin's in depression, in need of a quick fix for his pain. It'll be almost… natural."

Joe stopped turning his chair with his posterior and stared into Frank's eyes, amazed. "That's rather plausible. But Colin didn't admit to the Rofomyn and there's no evidence of the pills in his hands… it could be a case of bad batches after all."

"I know. But Strychnine?" Frank's eyes tapered in contemplation, slipping the pen behind his right ear, "I don't know. Most pushers won't want to sell contaminated pills as they would want regular customers. I think we have to prepare for the worst and the worst is, given the almost instant news report on Colin and Justin's predicament, that if their lives are threatened, the killer will strike again. Colin's pretty safe, since he's already transferred to the holding cell under the watchful eyes of our finest. But Justin is not."

Leaning his left cheek against his left hand which was propped upright on the work desk, Joe threw his brother a look of endorsement, "Okay. You call Con Riley."

"I am just about to." Frank picked up the receiver and dialed Con Riley's direct line, "In the meantime, think about how you can work your counselor charms on Colin. You did fine with Justin and I think you can break through to Colin to provide us with more information."

"Counselor charms?" Joe mused dryly, "I think it's more a case of relating. I could have gone their way easily. Anyone can."

"Yes, but not everyone can talk to them…" Frank smiled encouragingly at him before placing a finger on his lips, "Con! It's me, Hardy. Listen, I was just thinking about the case and I think you should step up security outside Justin's room and watch over Colin…"

***

Joe walked up to the front door from the gates where Frank dropped him, quite beside himself without the use of his Land Rover which made him feel very stiff and immobile. The conveniences of modernity. He would never survive in areas where kids had to walk miles just to go to school everyday and he thanked God that Elle was pretty generous with the vehicle, allowing him to pay her back in gentle installments.

It was rather late but the lights were still switched on. Hallie should be sleeping and Aunt Gertrude had the habit of turning in early. Maybe his parents decided to get a little romantic. He would feel rather embarrassed if he caught them waltzing to some oldies with a glass of red wine in each of their hands. However, quickly analyzing further, he doubt he would intrude upon a private party. The lights were not dimmed and music did not escape from under the door. Stepping inside the house, he was rather taken aback to find Callie sitting by the dining table with Laura who had a very concerned and perplexed expression on her mien.

"Joe, Callie's waited long for you."

"Oh, hi Cal! Hmm, you should have called me." Joe sauntered over, outwardly casual but a premonition of something awful caused his stomach to rumble, "Then you wouldn't need to, ah, wait so long."

"I didn't want to. Want to give you a surprise. Good to see you home, Joe." Callie beamed at him but the smile was as fake as a plastic Barbie doll. Joe sat down opposite Callie and his mother who stood up slowly.

"I'll leave you two alone… don't talk too late. You need to have ample rest before your wedding, Cal."

"Thanks, Laura. I'll remember that. And thanks for waiting up with me."

"Laura? You should be calling me mom, darling." Laura kissed Callie's cheek and squeezed Joe's shoulders as she went upstairs to her room. Joe noticed, with some apprehension, that Callie had merely smiled weakly at Laura's teasing suggestion when she would usually happily complied, excited to be part of the Hardy's household finally. He nodded towards the kitchen and smiled at Callie crookedly.

"Want a drink?"

"No, thanks. I'll be quick because I am tired. Joe, do you know if there's anything between Frank and Nancy?" Callie shot him the question so abruptly and point-blank that Joe tensed up, caught unaware as the sinking feeling of being dragged into quicksand overwhelmed him nauseatingly. However, for his brother's happiness, he had to trudge in the muck as bravely as possible and hope that Callie would be assuaged with simple, pleasant answers.

Now, keep it as scant and short as possible.

"They are friends." Joe answered blandly as if bored and unaffected, leaning back against his chair and crossing his long legs under the able.

"Just friends?" Callie hunched over the table, supporting her chin with her fists, "Are you certain?"

"Yup." Joe pushed his hair back with both his hands, "Just friends."

"B.S!" Callie hissed, slamming her palms on the table top, "I know everything, okay? I know about his little trysts with Nancy. You don't have to lie anymore…"

""Curiosity kills the cat. I don't know if I should confide in you… with you being Frank's brother and… let's just say that we used to be close once and then…"

God. Why do my brother's girlfriends have to put me through such torture? They are my brother's girlfriends!

 "… how he gotten intimate with her behind my back…I know. They are detectives after all, sharing cases together, having common interests…" The anger melted into tears. Callie looked away, pressing her hand against her mouth as she convulsed with sobs of betrayal. "What am I to him? Just some girlfriend back home."

Pained by her hurt that Frank had caused, wondering how Callie knew about the chemistry between Nancy and Frank which had, as far as he knew, exploded in fireworks a couple of times, Joe didn't know what he could say and knew that Callie had seen through his lies, making it futile to insist on their non-existent veracity. He reached inside his jeans' pocket for the packet of tissue, pulled out a yielding sheet and handed it to Callie who took it gratefully, still looking away from him.

"Callie, maybe there's a misunderstanding…" Joe lamely suggested but Callie shook her head vehemently.

"No. There's no misunderstanding. I heard it from him with my own ears. How misunderstood can I be?"

"Cal, talk to him, not me. I don't know. It's between you and him. I'm sorry, I really can't…" Joe shrugged helplessly, "It's late. Let me send you home."

"I can go home myself. I took a cab here because I'm so distracted I can't drive. I can call for one back."

"No, Cal… I'll just take my dad's car. Wait here, okay? Go back, have a good rest and the next day, have a good talk with him. The both of you love each other so much, I'm sure this can be resolve." Somehow.

Callie nodded to his relief as he wouldn't feel comfortable leaving her alone. At least he could send her safely back. First thing after he dropped her off, he was going to call Frank and warn him of impending danger. But as luck would have it, his hand phone was low on battery.

"Darn. God, please let Callie just go to bed and not call Frank or do something silly to ruin their marriage plans. I know they love each other..." Joe prayed softly. Callie had, on the way back to her house, used up two full packets of tissue paper. If he had a dictionary, he was extremely certain that Callie's face would be right next to the word, 'Distraught.'

And though he was rooting for his brother, he couldn't help but feel that it was a matter of sooner or later in Frank's cards. Sordid histories left unresolved had a peculiar way of resurfacing at the most inopportune time.

Whatever it was, it had been a long night and strangely, he was pretty hungry. Maybe that was what too much emotional duress did to him. Popping his pills, he scoured the shops nearby Callie's house for a late-night snack and found a twenty-four hour diner. Before he knew it, he downed a deluxe corny dog, one medium diet coke and a packet of chips. Satisfied, he returned home with a contended stomach but knotted chest.

"Urp…" Burping as he turned into the driveway, he was looking forward to sleep when he spotted Frank's Lexus parked at a skewed angle just outside the front porch, and Frank slouching against the car's frame. With a heavy eyelids and an even heavier heart, he exited the Volvo and just knew that Callie, the volcano, must have exploded. Frank should be back home, looking for support and sympathetic eyes.

However, he grew wary as he approached his brother. There seemed to be a smoldering fire behind Frank's dark eyes, a glint reflected eerily by the starlight.

Hmm, Frank doesn't look happy. Of course. If Callie did what I think she did, Frank would be the most miserable person in the world. Let him rant, let him rant, let him rant…

 "Hey, bro. How funny. Your girlfriend was just here and…oof!"  Joe crashed onto the ground, his jaw hurting from where Frank's fist made sudden, terrible contact. He staggered up, shocked.

Frank advanced towards him with balled up fists ready to strike again.