Frank arrived home a little after eight pm and went straight to his father's office. He brought him up to date on his and Joe's findings then leaned back in the leather chair he occupied in front of his father's desk.

Fenton leaned back in his chair and frowned. "There are a couple of things you mentioned that bother me," he stated.

"Let me guess," Frank said. "First, why didn't Professor Aliem tell us that the natural gas pocket was a fake?" His father nodded. "And why are Professor Aliem and Professor Anderson spending so much time together?"

"Maybe you should go and see Professor Anderson tomorrow," suggested Fenton. "See what all he does know about geology?" Frank nodded. "In the meantime, I will run a check on him and one on Aliem and see what I can come up with."

"What about Mayhem?" Frank asked. He still didn't believe he was involved in this case but Joe's instincts were usually right on target. There had to be something going on with him.

Fenton shook his head. "I ran a complete search on the man. He's brilliant and a bit eccentric, but I haven't been able to find anything to implicate he has been involved in anything illegal."

"Maybe Joe will realize that while he's talking to him tonight," Frank said, grinning.

"What do you and your brother have planned?" Fenton asked.

"Well, our intern duties for Professor Aliem don't begin until noon," Frank began. "So, we were planning on tracking down the other people involved in the project and questioning them. Todd, one of the new interns, was a friend of Craig's. Joe is going to talk some more to him and find out where Craig's family lives. He may be at home."

"You don't think so?" Fenton questioned.

Frank shook his head. "I really doubt it," he admitted. His forehead wrinkled in thought. "Maybe I should check out his apartment."

"You should get your brother to go with you," Fenton suggested.

Frank seemed to think the suggestion over before shaking his head. "Craig is gone. He has been for a little over a week now. I doubt anyone would be at his apartment. I'll just go in and look around."

"Call me on your way back to Mayhem's," Fenton instructed.

"I will," Frank promised.

***

Joe's stomach rumbled as he stood by the fireplace looking at the statue of a wolf which possessed the center of the mantle.

"That's the bad thing about Chinese food," Mayhem said, laughing. "It always leaves you hungry after thirty minutes."

"Sorry," Joe apologized, blushing a bit.

"No, don't apologize," Mayhem said. "I could use something a bit more substantial myself. I just happen to have some steaks available. Would you care for one?"

"Sounds great," Joe said, smiling. "Thanks."

"I'll put them on while you go and work on your homework. If your professors are anything like me, then I am sure you must have a ton," Mayhem ended.

"Thanks," Joe said again, heading up the stairs. He paused at the top of the staircase. He was feeling a little bit traitorous because Mayhem was being so kind but he still had this feeling that there was more to Mayhem than there appeared and he couldn't rest until he found out what it was.

Joe spent the next thirty minutes looking through Mayhem's bedroom, searching for anything that might implicate him not only on the case they were working on but in anything. "Joseph!" he heard Mayhem call him downstairs. Joe headed downstairs, annoyed because he hadn't found anything and hadn't had time to search more.

"Does this place have a basement?" asked Joe as he sat down at the table.

"No," answered Mayhem. "But that's quite all right. This place is too big for just me as is." He set Joe's plate in front of him. "I hope you like your steak rare," he said.

"Mmm," Joe replied. "It looks perfect," he said, picking up his fork and knife and cutting a piece off.

The two ate in silence and by the time Joe had finished his steak his eyes were drooping. He barely managed to cover his mouth as a huge yawn erupted. "I'm sorry," Joe apologized, as he dropped his hand. "I don't know why I got so sleepy all of the sudden."

"Think nothing of it," Mayhem said. "I am rather tired myself. I think I shall retire to my room."

"Mmm," Joe agreed, smothering another yawn. "I think I'll hit the hay too." He stood and reached for his plate.

"I'll do the dishes tonight," Mayhem said. "You can do them when you cook."

"Deal," Joe readily agreed. He headed up the stairs, his gait slow.

Twenty minutes later, the door to the bedroom opened. Joe lay sleeping, his pajama shirt lying on the nightstand. He was on top of the cover, his foot hanging off the bed and his left hand resting at his hips were the top of his pajama pants fit snuggly against his tan skin.

Mayhem watched Joe sleep for a couple of minutes then lifted the lid to the lead box he held in his hands. At once, Joe began moaning. His head moved from side to side as if he were trapped in a nightmare. Groaning, he twisted onto his side. A scream of agony burst from his lips as he fell to the floor on his hands and knees.

Mayhem closed the box, smiling contentedly as Joe fell to the floor, unconscious.