Chapter 22

Psychedelic Hollow

itsmeocean@hotmail.com

"Joe, can you stop channel surfing and hand the remote over to me?"

Indolently, Joe passed the television's remote control to his father who took it. Fenton sighed with relief as he switched to his favorite news channel with nary a glance at Joe.

Unhappy that no one was showing him concern since he reached home, Joe slinked down the settee part of the long couch and grunted. Indeed, Laura, Gertrude and Hallie, who just wanted to talk and talk without listening, were already soundly asleep. And Fenton didn't seem to care at all.

"Wars and more wars…why can't the world just live in peace?" Fenton grumbled at the scrolling headlines, "Look at this, Joe. Terrorists at work again. What's up with all the angst?"

"Sometimes, dad, a conflict takes both set of fists to start punching." Joe muttered, wishing Fenton was into sports. Fenton harrumphed and picked up the most recent copy of Reader's Digest, flipping it through. Yet, Joe knew that even though Fenton was preoccupied, if he should steal the remote back and change the channel, his father would be livid.

"Hmm, twelve-year old girl's pregnant and her boyfriend's only fourteen…tsk…" Fenton closed the magazine and threw it back onto the coffee table, "Why can't there be happy news for once?"

"There will be if we switch to the sports channel."

"And watch my beloved team lose? No thanks. I think I'm going to sleep."

"Dad, you can't just leave me alone here!" Joe protested to his father's surprise, "I need company!"

"Hmm, maybe you should go find a girlfriend." Fenton stood up and stretched, grinning like a Cheshire cat, "Good night."

"Hey, I didn't sit here listening to you comment and complain about politics for nothing! I mean, I was waiting for ages for someone to just ask me what's wrong! So sit down and… and ask me what's wrong!"

Fenton narrowed his eyes at him and Joe shrank into his seat, smiling at his dad timidly, "Ahm, please?"

"Well, I'm not such an insensitive father. I was sitting here the whole night, getting a headache while you jumped from one program to another in rapid, unceasing successions, hoping you'll just tell me what's bothering you. So, what's bothering you?" With a swipe of his head, Fenton sat down on his armchair once again and looked at Joe with concern, "Work? Your brother?"

"Work and my brother. You must have heard the news. Our client is dead." Joe muttered numbly, "His name's Justin and he had bad reactions to drugs. We established that it may be murder, as rat's poison is found in the pills that he purportedly took but his best friend, Colin Brown, is not talking. I'm very sure Colin knows something but he's keeping his mouth shut. Related to that is Frank's detachedness with it all.  I do admire Frank for being able to keep his feelings in check but when he could just focus again without seeming like he was at least somewhat affected, I began to have doubts, you know. And Frank should be affected! Any man in his situation would break down and confide in someone. His relationship with Callie didn't seem to bother him; Justin's death didn't seem to bother him… . I know Frank is not like that."

"Frank is just being responsible. He's doing his job and you should be doing yours too. Why are you home, looking for a sounding board when you should be out there, looking for leads?" Fenton asked impassively and Joe, feeling defensive, sat up straighter.

"Because I'm affected by Justin's death and I'm disheartened that we don't have leads, except for a guy who's not in town!"

"Has that ever stopped you before?"

"No, but…"

"No buts, Joe. You have dedicated your life to this career and you have to prove to yourself that you can shoulder the burdens that come with it..." Fenton softened his tone, most probably seeing that he was bristling by what was said, "You're grown up now, Joe. You don't need Frank to baby you anymore."

"I never needed him to…." Joe remonstrated but stopped when he discovered he was sounding too whiny to his own ears. Slumping against the couch, he folded his arms and frowned, "He takes it upon himself."

"Maybe because, in some ways, you want him to. Maybe it makes you feel like the both of you are as close as before."

"Are you saying that we aren't?" Joe dropped his voice to a harsh whisper, "Don't scare me dad… I mean, Frank and I are cool."

"We, your mom and I, are extremely ruthless to Frank for helping you elope with Vanessa. He told you that?"

"No…"

"And Frank's first run-in with a psychopath had caused him to take an emotional scarring that he wouldn't tell anyone of us… did he tell you that too?"

Joe knitted his brows. Frank's first run-in. Yes, he read about it on the news and called Frank up to congratulate him. Frank just brushed it off and he didn't really probe Frank for details, more occupied with looking for ways to put down the phone when Frank asked about his life.

"Ahm, well…"

Fenton smiled and stood up, patting Joe on the shoulder, "There, you have your answer. Frank isn't detached. He just keeps it inside if he thinks that by suffering in silence, he will be serving the greater good. To him, now, the greater good is helping your client. And I bet in some ways, Frank does let his emotions show, though not through tears or lamentations. He does it quietly, shows his concern via actions. Very much like me…" Fenton smiled to himself, "But I'm not as introverted. I will be like you when I can't handle it- demand for a sounding board. If only the both of you…"

"Yes, dad. If only we can be more like you etc. etc…" Joe groused, feeling the tiny prick of guilt. Fenton was right, how could he miss it? Frank did let his emotions show but he did it constructively. He spent some time off the case to provide the company of friendship at a time when Conrad positively needed it, didn't he? And the support was given without Conrad asking and despite Frank's own emotional turmoil. That was the mark of a true Samaritan.

Frank didn't change…Joe concluded, the old glow of admiration and hero-worship for his elder brother flushing his cheeks, Frank evolved. My elder brother.

The he glowered, angry at Frank again, And just as stubbornly neglecting his own needs as usual, warping more and more into an emotional masochist! Making all of us worried and even misunderstanding him!

Oh well, after this case, I think I should act like the little brother and command Frank to confide in me.

"Thanks, dad. I should pick myself up, not despair, and look for leads…" Joe stifled a yawn. Struggling up, he indicated towards the stairs with a swipe of his head, "But after a good night's rest. Tomorrow, I'm going to march into Frank's apartment, apologize to him and together, we're going to crack our heads, solve the case and send the evil-doers behind bars!"

"That's the spirit!" Fenton punched the air with his right fist. They stared at each other for a moment before breaking into low chuckles simultaneously.  Ruffling his blond hair, Fenton smiled warmly.

"It's nice talking to you, son. I miss that. I'm sorry if I sounded harsh. In every sense, you're still young with a lot to learn. We should have this kind of talks more often. I do hope that you and Frank iron out your differences. Your relationship is pretty thorny nowadays, right?"

"Ahm…well…" Joe shrugged, "Never mind that. I'll settle it."

Halfway up the stairs to their respective bedrooms, Fenton spun around, almost knocking into Joe.

"Wait, your mom has been complaining that her shampoo is depleting real fast and I can tell she's subtly accusing me of using it, can you imagine that?"

Joe smiled at Fenton widely, absentmindedly touching his own hair. Yup, he thought to himself, it definitely feels softer and smoother now.

"No, dad, I can't imagine it."

"Hmm, just as I thought…" Fenton started up the stairs again, "You know, a real man use soap or cheap shampoo…unless they are on special prescription for hair loss."

Joe nodded in acquisition, "Right dad, nothing but highly alkaline soap for my hair, drying it to split ends."

Fenton made a noise which sounded like a sarcastic grunt.

About fifteen minutes later, Joe was on his bed, contemplating the day as he stared up at his ceiling in the dark. He was tired but he couldn't sleep. Reaching for his phone just beside his bed, he wanted to call Frank and make real peace when he heard a thud. He hadn't heard a sound like it since tenth grade. Even then, he was the one making the noise to wake his then- girlfriend who was sleeping in her room late at night, just to catch a glimpse of her scowling face by the window.

He turned towards his window and scrunched his eyes against a beam of light shining into room. Another stone hit his window pane and, irritated, Joe marched over to give the troublemaker a piece of his mind.

"Hey!" He yelled out of the window, "Stop that! Or I'll… Colin? Is that you? Wait there, all right?"

The sullen teenager switched off the torchlight and leaned against the maple tree- the guardian of their backyard. Wasting no time, Joe pulled a t-shirt hurriedly over himself and raced out into the backyard. Silly youngsters. Couldn't they just use the phone?

Colin was thankfully still where Joe last seen him when he arrived. Though it took Joe less than minute to get to the backyard, he knew enough about Colin to be afraid that he might just decide to split. They stared at each other for a prolonged period before Colin looked away, dropping his cigarette butt onto the ground and stubbing it with his foot.

"So, how did you know you'll hit the right window?"

"I don't." Colin replied dispassionately, "Justin's dead."

Joe exhaled heavily, not knowing what on earth he could say. Colin probably ascertained it from the news.

"They described him as the nineteen year old male who is facing charges of drugging and attempting to rape his girlfriend who died from the date-rape drug, Rofomyn."

"Did they? I didn't watch the news."

"You don't look the kind." Colin remarked wryly. He paused for a moment before spiting hard on the ground.

"I just came to tell you guys that I got the Ecstasy pills from a guy called Ol' Bart. He has a lot of fancy drugs and he sells them to me for a discount. He came over to my garage and told me about this 'enhanced' Ecstasy pills and gave me a packet to sample. He told me to share it with Justin and so, I did. I'm not into Ecstasy though. I passed it to Justin and we decided to smoke weed and get high on Ecstasy. Justin couldn't wait to try them out. Anything to take away his pain, he told me. And he also said it would be his last trip. He promised his brother and himself that he would get clean and as he was popping a pill down, he tried to convince me to do the same. Ironic, isn't it?" Colin chuckled derisively, "And I told him, yah, sure. When the cows jump over the moon. We laughed and he eyed me sadly… I… I don't wish him harm. Never did. Justin's more than my best friend. He saved my freaking life. That's why we are so tight, like brothers. We should be brothers. Connie doesn't treat his brother nice. "

Joe puckered his brows, absorbing in the information. If those pills, worth quite some money, was just given to Colin with specified instructions to share it with Justin, then Justin's case would be murder, not drugs' complications.

Not only the murder of Justin but also, the attempted murder of Colin.

"Colin, no dealers will freely distribute drugs around. I think you do suspect foul play here and that's why you came to me with this information."

"I don't know."

"All right. Then do you know where is this Ol' Bart?"

Colin shrugged and folded his hands across his chest, shivering lightly as he rubbed at his arms, "I don't know. He wasn't down by the Quay, his usual spot for his trade, when I went to find him earlier."

A glint of metal protruding out from Colin jeans' pocket caught Joe's eyes, causing his heart to skip a beat. Pointing warily at the pistol's handle, Joe asked softly, "Why did you want to find him?"

The youngster threw him a sardonic smile, "I went to kill him. He killed my best friend. I want justice."

Joe stared at the youngster, shocked by the admission though he had thought he was mentally prepared for it. Still, Colin could have done something that night that would ruin whatever was left of his life and Joe was glad that firstly, Colin didn't find Ol' Bart. And secondly, Colin came to him.

"You want to come in? There's some food and hot drinks that we can whip up." Joe swiped his head towards the back door, "And I'll call my brother and we can go through the details again, all right?"

"Aren't you going to turn me in? I just admitted my intention to kill." Colin laughed sharply, "They will love to have one more charge against me."

"I don't think you'll actually do it. You came here, didn't you? And I guessed if you have taken such pains to find my address, tell me about Ol'Bart, then you must have somehow already known what the right thing to do is. It's just a matter of time, Colin. I know you'll tell me all there is to know about what happened that night with Justin and his girlfriend," Joe studied Colin's pale face which glowed hauntingly under the muted moonlight, recognizing the all too familiar mark of guilt, "Maybe, by divulging the details that you know, you can set yourself free from a burden. Who knows, you may save your life. If Justin's death is indeed murder, then you are definitely still in danger."

Colin seemed to diminish in size as he slouched against the tree even more, staring up at the sky. Abruptly, he turned towards Joe and smiled shakily, "Justin mentioned you. He said you're the smart detective who can get him out of the mess without… I… that's why I came here. I'm not going to kill Ol' Bart. I just thought I'll threaten him. But I guess if he was around tonight, I'll be dead. The gun is not loaded at all."

"Damn right you'll be. Come with me. Let us sort this out. I'll call my brother and we'll see how to go from there."

Colin scrutinized him for a moment before nodding finally. Joe led him into the Hardy's kitchen, never, for a moment, letting the boy out of his sight in the event that Colin should decide to split. When he settled Colin in, he picked up the kitchen phone and called Frank, keeping a close eye on Colin who was gorging himself silly at the counter with leftover cookie and milk.

***

"Hey…" Frank clapped Joe's back as he stepped into the house via the kitchen's door, "That's him?"

"Who else can it be? Mary Poppins?" Joe glanced at Colin from the corner of his eyes. Colin looked at Frank with haunting wariness. Under the bright florescent lights of the kitchen and against the dark backdrop of the living room, Colin's pale, gaunt and vapid visage appeared to Frank as a man slowly emaciating into a ghost. A lump caught in his throat as pity and revulsion washed over him fleetingly.

Joe leaned over and whispered into his ear, "Ahm, I know you have your reasons for being detached but let's be soft on him, shall we? I managed to get him to relax with some food but we didn't talk anymore on the case."

"Sure thing…" Frank strode across the distance and tapped Colin's shoulder from the back, "Hello, Collin."

"Hello." Colin muttered sullenly. Cookie crumbs had gathered at the side of his cracked lips and somehow, made him seemed much younger and vulnerable than the acerbic personality he was before. Frank sat on the counter stool next to Colin and nodded towards his emptied plate.

"You want more of that?"

"No."

Joe, who had taken a seat on one of the lower chairs by the kitchen table, shot him a prompting look. Without the need for verbal clarification, Frank knew what Joe was trying to nudge him to do.

"Colin, I apologize for, well, what you do call that? Emotional blackmail? And if I sounded tough on you, my apologies too."

"No need. I know you're doing your job." Colin replied," I told Joe everything."

"Everything?" Frank prompted gently, "Joe gave me a rundown. I'm not going to pressure you but I think we should worry for your safety, base on what you told Joe."

"Joe said the same too." Colin dropped his head and breathed heavily, "I don't know, you know. I really don't."

Frank threw a quick glance at Joe. This time, logic and cool reason was not going to cut it. Joe shrugged, indicating that he had already tried.

"Colin, I don't wish to assume anything. But before I came over here, I just got a late night email from the police's lab. The white pills I found in your father's studio are really Rofomyn, the drug that Kimberly had a bad reaction to and died from. I'm not trying to emotionally blackmail you but I'm really trying to make sure nothing worse than what had already happened will transpire," Frank lowered his voice, hoping that his sincerity would break the dam, "If Ol' Bart tried to kill you once, he will try to kill you again."

"What will telling you anything about the Rofomyn help my life?" Colin shot back, "Ol'Bart may most likely be trying to kill me. The only way to save my life now is for you guys to go and get him!"

"We will, whether you tell us or not. Sometimes a life may be saved not by the sole virtue of assuring its existence." Frank assured him and decided to leave it as that. Colin turned his head and threw Frank a lethal look from the corner of his eyes which he ignored. He left the seat and clapped Joe on the shoulder.

"You have any idea where Ol'Bart may be?"

"Nope. I checked Bayport's directory before you came and there must be a few hundred Bartholomews, Barts and two Bartleys in Bayport." Joe replied numbly. Apparently, Joe was just as disappointed as him that Colin wasn't talking still. Yet, Frank could hardly fault Colin. Everyone was guided by self-interest. Justin was dead. If Colin confessed to anything, he would surely be put in jail and it would definitely not be a bed of roses. Still, the charges that Colin was already facing wasn't easy even for the most intelligent lawyer to wriggle him out from.

"The police knew about the white pills?" Colin suddenly asked, his voice small and afraid. Frank curled his lips thinly and nodded.

"I have to turn in the evidence."

"Crap." Colin swore and mussed up his hair violently, "It's really Rofomyn?"

"You didn't know?" Joe asked, a hint of surprise in his tone. Frank was too and he sat down next to his brother and waited for Colin to spill.

"Ol'Bart came to me once and said he had this cool drug called Rofomyn and how he was one of the few dealers around the New York area who has it. He told me to thank my lucky stars that he's in Bayport now. At a huge discount, I bought a packet from him. I don't believe they're Rofomyn but I can't resist the temptation, you know. I took it and regretted it because even with the discount, it's expensive. And I'm not some heartless creature. I know that rape is bad and thus, I just threw it into the safe with the rest of the stash and forgot about it until that night at the rave party. Ol'Bart came up to me and asked me if I had any fun with those pills. I can't really remember what happened but I recalled…it seemed inconsequential then… but I saw Ol'Bart hovering in the warehouse for the outsiders like Kimberly but it didn't seem like anything. Even though that part is generally drug-free, some people there still do them and maybe Ol'Bart was fulfilling some transaction. I don't know. I didn't really care. Maybe he drugged Kimberly. He always thought Kimberly was cute. And maybe he wanted to kill us because Justin and I know that he has Rofomyn and may link him to Kimberly's death. Justin also knew that I have some of the Rs. He came by to the garage to confront me. I told him I didn't drug Kimberly and he believed me. We then decided to get high and he died." Colin looked up and stared at them suspiciously after neither of them spoke for a few seconds, "What now? It's the truth!"

"Okay…" Joe dragged, "What do you think, bro?"

Frank wasn't convinced that Colin was telling the whole truth. And he had lied to Colin himself- he hadn't sent those white pills for testing… yet. However, right then, he just wanted to get his hands on Ol'Bart and end a large part of the mess.

At least, Colin had indirectly told them that Justin didn't drug Kimberly. They could work on that later. A murderer was still at large.

"Do you know where Ol'Bart may be?"

"I told Joe that he wasn't at the Quay where we often go and find him for stuff. Besides that, I have no idea." Colin deadpanned, "That's your job, okay?"

"But you can help us along. Can you remember about Ol'Bart that can help us figure who he is, for example, his car license plate etc.?" Joe asked. Colin scrunched his eyes shut and scratched the back of his head. As Frank and Joe looked on expectantly, Colin lifted his head and nodded slowly.

"Yah, I do. You got pen and paper?"