Chapter 23

Psychedelic Hollow

Itsmeocean@hotmail.com

"Bartholomew Melon. Here's the whole dossier on him that I can put together at such short notice." Nancy glanced at her watch and smiled wryly, "Another record's broken."

Frank picked up the thin brown file which Nancy had dumped on his lap the moment she got into his car and thumbed through it, furrowing his brows when he saw that Nancy had highlighted and circled the known addresses of Bartholomew Melon. From the car license plate details that Colin gave them, he was able to track down Ol'Bart's real name and current address. Nancy, with her access to the vast FBI's database, dug up much more interesting information though.

He handed the file back to her and started the car engine, maneuvering his way out of the hotel's porch. From the corner of his eyes, he caught Nancy barely stifling a yawn. He could hardly fault her- it was three a.m. in the morning after all.

"Want coffee?"

"No, not now. Let's just get to the place. If what Colin told you is true, this Ol'Bart may be the weak link to the supply of Rofomyn and frankly speaking…" She slanted her blue eyes towards him and grinned lopsidedly, "Pardon the pun, I'm really sick of this case. Been working on it for almost a year. But at least right now, I am feeling positive about this lead. Ol'Bart has been in and out of prison for drugs related charges until three years ago. So Joe's staying with Colin?"

"Yup. Colin didn't want to go home and we don't feel too comfortable leaving him alone." Frank narrowed his eyes at the previous conversation with Colin, "I asked Joe privately to sound him out if he has the chance. Something about what Colin told us just doesn't click."

"Why?"

Turning into a street close to the quay where Ol'Bart's apartment was situated, Frank scrunched his eyes against the bad lighting of the area, scrutinizing every building's name for the right one, "Because he only volunteered the information of Ol'Bart loitering around where Kimberly was partying when he thought I had sent those pills to the police for testing. Since this information will only help clear the suspicions surrounding Justin and even him, I see no reason why he would want to hide it. He should be more than happy to provide us with the knowledge."

"He didn't call your bluff?"

"I was lucky. Those white pills must be Rofomyn. I counted that he had nine of them."

"Nine- weird number of pills to buy, right?"

"Maybe it added to a nice round number in terms of price." Frank slowed down, afraid that he could have missed their desired destination, "Nan, help me keep a look out for Klington Apartments? I can't seem to find it."

"You haven't driven past it. I am helping you look." Nancy clucked her tongue with mild disgust, "How stereotypical. A drug pusher making his home in perhaps the darkest street in town."

"Those who deal with shadows like to live in shadows."

"Or maybe some wire blew a fuse and caused the lights to die..." Nancy patted his shoulder excitedly, "I see it! Stop here. Klington Apartments!"

Sliding the car expertly into a parallel parking space, Frank got out of the car and retrieved his equipment from the boot. Nancy whistled lowly at the metallic box he was carrying and nudged him teasingly, "Make-up?"

"Yup. Just in case I need to transform into a pretty girl." Frank replied wryly, "Or transform you into a vixen or something."

"No thanks. We can think of something else if the role of a vixen is needed. Seriously, what's inside?"

"My tools of trade. If he's not in, then maybe we can gather some clues from his house. If he's in, we can always say that you need to have your cosmetic set with you just to feel comfortable."

"Being around you and Joe make me feel so attractive." Nancy groused to Frank's amusement. Somehow, it was easier being friends. He could relax without his conscience weighing down heavily on him. Nancy too was making an effort to be unaffected and he appreciated that tremendously. If only Callie could call him or give him a chance to explain. Yet, in a way, he that if she called, he wouldn't know what to say because all she had accused him of were true.

They passed by an unattended security counter in the foyer and walked up the stairways. Frank frowned, having caught a glimpse of the inactivated monitors. However, not dwelling anymore on the subject, he and Nancy paced down the hallway of the third floor looking for the right door.

"This is it." Nancy paused in front of a door which surface was interspersed with fraying splinters, "Think he will be awake now?"

"Night creatures. This will be his sunny hour."

Snorting at his ill-attempt at a quotable quote, Nancy knocked on the door and they waited. After a prolonged moment, they tried again…and again. No one answered the door. Before Nancy could turn and discuss with him their next course of action, Frank had already taken out his set of lock picks.

"Ahm, Frank? I don't have a warrant for this guy yet. Anything we mess up cannot be held in court as evidence."

"I'm a very tidy person, Nancy. I just want a look inside and you can always get the warrant in the morning to, well, recover whatever clues we found tonight. Give me, a poor, close to bankruptcy private investigator a chance, will you? And since when have Nancy Drew bothered with legalities?" Frank grinned at her, fiddling with the lock. She shook her head, worry ghosting her pretty features. He decided to assure her with some basic observations- details he was pretty surprised that she hadn't picked up.

"Don't think he's in too, if that's the second thing you're afraid of. No light is escaping from under the door and it's awfully quiet."

"What if you're wrong? What if he comes back? What if he's only sleeping?"

He looked up and curled his lips in serious contemplation, "Then you think of something."

"Frank Hardy!" Nancy hissed but did nothing to stop him saved putting on an annoyed expression and standing with her arms akimbo and legs apart.

He chortled lowly, hearing the satisfying 'click'. "Where's your sense of adventure, Agent Drew? I think you should quit the FBI and let down your hair. Come in. Welcome to the humble abode that's not mine. But first thing first…"

Slapping on a pair of gloves, Frank handed another pair to Nancy. Deftly, he switched on the lights and immediately, the light-hearted mood dissipated as the gravity of the case sank into their consciousness at the sight of a pair of lifeless, pale, plump and hairy legs sticking out from behind a seedy couch which was splotched with more than just beer stains. Exchanging a wary glance with Nancy, he approached the body steadily while keeping an eye out for any form of ambush.

"I'll check the room." Nancy informed him brusquely and he nodded, kneeling beside the body which was face up behind the couch, its vacant eyes staring futilely up at the ceiling and its jaws slacked. Instantly, Frank discerned that the man was probably shocked upon seeing the barrel of a gun pointed at him, the last sight he glimpsed. A clean bullet hole was drilled into forehead as a pool of blood, still damp, spread under the man's head- the man's key to Pearly Gates or Dante's inferno.

He wasn't dead for long- his body still had a touch of warmness to it.

"Looks like nobody else is here." Nancy muttered, emerging from the bedroom, the silent smile on her lips had disappeared as she once again morphed into the no- nonsense and crisp FBI agent. "You noticed anything?"

"Besides the fact that he was probably only initiated into a whole new metaphysical world where his flabby body's not needed? No. But I'll estimate from the temperature that his departure couldn't be more than a couple of hours… we'll need forensics to discern that." Frank stood up and clucked his tongue, "This man definitely resembles the photo in your dossier, just a lot less colorful. Let's look around first while we wait for the police to arrive."

"You didn't inform the police, Frank." Nancy drawled, already scanning the room for a possible place to start searching for evidence. Frank walked over to the kitchen area and an opened address book by the phone caught his attention. Anticipation hammered at his chest when he noticed that the page the book was opened at was torn halfway.

"No? Hmm, think about it, Nan. I'm sure I did. Take a look. Someone's looking for somebody else…" Frank gestured towards the book, "I'm going to dust for prints."

As he set to work, retrieving the powder, brush and film from his box, Nancy called the police and reported the crime crisply. He grimaced after a futile investigation with the book and the phone - another careful culprit. If only robbers, murderers and all evildoers stopped being so cautious- Frank Hardy deserved some easy time. Examining the address book again, he noticed that the ripped page was marked with a huge T on top and thus, studied the rest of the entries which were written with a sloppy hand.

Crap!

Pulling the gloves off his hands, Frank dashed out of the door, dire instincts blocking out reason and rationality, spurring him on with a prayer that they were not too late.

***

Heavy-lidded but alert by sheer will, Joe watched Colin silently as the younger man drifted off into another one of those chills-inducing spells. After Frank had managed to obtain Ol'Bart's address off the internet via some dubious website flirting with the disapproving eye of law, Colin, as Joe noticed, became a little more anxious. It was almost Colin was forcing himself to co-operate while deeply afraid that they would discover something perilous to his own interests.

Now, Colin was staring into nothingness with those vapid eyes of his, sitting on the high stool, rocking back and forth, hugging himself tightly as if he would fly apart anytime soon. Then, he would relax and shake his head before the shtick repeated again-one continuous loop of eeriness and reticence.

"Hey, I can see you are going to blow. For the hundredth 'last time', if you have anything else to spill, you better spill now."

Colin shook his head vigorously.

"I didn't send the pills for testing. It's just to make him nervous. See how readily he came forward with new information?"

"A little white lie. He sure fell for it. But I wonder what's he hiding?"

"Isn't it obvious, little brother?" Frank clapped him on the back, "Alrighty now. I'm going to check out on this Ol'Bart lead with Nan, you don't mind that, right? Just felt that Colin bonded most with you so…it's best that you stay to watch him and to catch anything that spills out from his mouth."

"Go ahead. Just tell me before you make anymore moves or anything."

"Colin, it's about Rofomyn isn't it? Were you lying about seeing Ol'Bart around Kimberly?

Colin shook his head. Joe sighed- this gentle questioning was leading nowhere. He pulled a barstool in front of Colin and sat on it, facing the troubled teenager who was sinking deeper into some quicksand with each passing second.

"Colin, maybe that night you didn't see Ol'Bart around Kimberly. Maybe you just wanted to 'help' your best friend along.  That night, Colin, did you slip something into Kimberly's drink and then gave Justin a couple of ecstasy pills, telling him to go 'have fun'?"

"I didn't see a thing. Look, I told you guys everything, all right?" Colin, awoken from his nightmarish reverie, glared at Joe, "I'm risking my life here, coming forward with information. And so I think the least anyone can do now is to appreciate what I'm doing and shut up!"

"Colin, I don't think you came here just to come forward with information. It's kind of hard living a lie, isn't it?"

"Who gave you the right to judge my crap?" Colin shot, increasingly hostile, "I'm beginning to doubt that you're as cool as Justin said you are."

'Fine, I'm not cool. I don't care. Cool is overrated. Think about it, Colin. It's your call, not mine, not your mom's, not anyone else's." Joe turned his attention to the counter and poured a glass of water for himself. Frank was gone for quite some time and worry was slowly gnawing away at his chest.

Colin sucked in a deep, audible breath before slouching over the counter top, resting his head on his folded arms. Joe knew he was put there as bodyguard and it was really no fun guarding an almost body. Just as he was about to reach for his second glass of water, the phone rang and he jumped to his feet. Colin too sat up with a rude jolt.

"Frank? Where are you? Found anything?"

His heart was almost pounding his chest to bits when Nancy's voice came over the line.

"It's me. Frank dashed off suddenly and I'm going after him but he took the car. Can you go find him?"

The impact of a bad news knocked the breath out of Joe. Recomposing himself, he calmly digested the rest of the information from Nancy. After which, he woke his parents up. Without much need for explanation about the turn of events, as was the culture in their household since time memorial, Laura kept her anxiety silent, betrayed only by the slight quaver in her voice when she told him to be careful. Fenton merely nodded and guided Colin to the guest room.