Laura handed the phone to Fenton. "It's Chief Collig," she informed him. "He said he might have a lead."
Fenton took the receiver and listened to what the chief had to say in silence. After a couple of minutes he spoke softly into the handset so that neither Laura nor Frank could hear him and then hung up. "Frank, let's go," he said, heading for the door at a run. He didn't want Laura to ask what the chief had told him.
"Okay, what gives?" Frank asked once the two were in the car and on the highway.
"They found Graves' body," Fenton answered in a grim tone. "A group of teenagers saw two men dump a sack into the river and take off. Two of the teens followed the vehicle while two others dove in after the sack."
"Why do that?" Frank wondered. "I mean, surely Turner and Holden must know the body would float."
"With the current, the body would be out to sea before it floated," Fenton answered. "You know the body has to bloat up before it will float."
"What about the lead?" asked Frank.
"The two teens followed the car to a cul-de-sac," Fenton answered. "Ezra said he already has the area surrounded. He's just waiting for us to get there before moving in."
***
"Get up," snarled Turner as Holden came running into the room.
"Easy," Holden told Turner. "No harm done. It was your fault anyway for leaving him alone."
Turner opened his mouth to argue but closed it again and gave a deep sigh. "You are right," he admitted. "I should have known better." He bent down and took Joe's arm and helped him to his feet.
"Take him back to his room," Holden suggested. "You can finish your session there."
Turner pulled Joe along with him as he made his way up the stairs and to the small room that served as Joe's prison. "Lie down," he instructed as he released Joe's arm. "You may as well be comfortable."
"I don't want too," Joe declined stubbornly.
"Suit yourself," Turner said, taking a seat in the solitary chair by the dresser. "Shall I begin again?" he asked. "Or do you wish to start the conversation?"
"It doesn't matter," said Joe. "Everything you say is a lie."
"I haven't lied to you," Turner denied solemnly. "I merely asked you questions to clarify what you were telling me. I am trying to help you."
"No, you aren't," Joe retorted. "You don't want me to get well."
"No, we don't," agreed Turner. "However, it is the genetics involved that concern our research. Your mental stability has no real effect in the research," he lied. "As a matter of fact," he continued. "In order to obtain, true, undiluted results, you need to get over the mental aspect of the disease. It's the physical aspect we are working on."
"But it's a mental disease," Joe argued, his confusion evident in his features.
"Only to a point," Turner said. He knew the drugs in Joe's system would wear down his resistance. He had only to keep Joe off balance for a little bit before he was once again a slab of clay to work with. "So you see, it is to our advantage to get you well mentally and we can't do that if you don't cooperate. And since you insist you want to be well then this works out for both of us although to different ends."
"I...I guess," Joe stuttered, unable to think straight without his head hurting. He sank down onto the bed but did not lie down. "I..I want to..to get well."
"Of course you do," Turner said in a soothing voice. "And I am going to help you. Why don't you lie back and we can begin?" he suggested again.
This time, Joe did as he had been bidden. He stared at the ceiling without seeing it as Turner began to speak. Joe's mind wandered back to a time when he was younger, only four years old. His brother wanted to go on the roller coaster but he had been afraid. "He shouldn't have gone," Joe said in a small voice.
"Who shouldn't have gone?" asked Turner, confused. He had been asking Joe about his mother but it was obvious that while Joe had heard him he had not been listening.
"Frank," answered Joe. "He should have stayed with me. He knew I was afraid but he wanted to go anyway so Dad took him on the ride."
"Why should he have stayed with you?" asked Turner.
"Because if he hadn't gone on the ride then mom wouldn't have taken me into the funhouse," replied Joe, his tone innocent but exasperated. "Then I wouldn't have gotten kidnapped."
"So it was Frank's fault you were kidnapped?" Turner asked.
"Yes," Joe answered. "No. He didn't know," he defended Frank. "But if he hadn't wanted to ride the roller coaster then we would have gone on home."
"You think your brother wanted you gone?" Turner asked.
"No!" Joe denied vehemently. "Frank loves me. He takes care of me. He would never want me gone."
"But it was his fault?" Turner pushed.
"I...I guess so," Joe replied in a small voice. "I wanted to go home but he wanted Dad to take him for one more ride."
"And your Dad did so readily?" Turner inquired. Joe nodded. "Perhaps your father suspected something might happen," he suggested, causing Joe to look at him through fearful blue eyes that reminded him of a child. "Maybe your father saw this as an opportunity to get rid of the child who was turning out to be such a disappointment to him."
"No," Joe whispered, tears streaming down his face. "No," he said again. "Daddy loves me."
"He told you so?" Turner inquired. Joe nodded. "How often does he tell you that he loves you?"
Joe's body started shaking as he realized that his dad rarely ever told him. Maybe his dad only told him he loved him when he did so Joe would do whatever his father wanted him to do.
***
"Have you seen him?" Fenton demanded of Collig when he and Frank arrived at the entrance to the cul-de-sac.
"No," Collig admitted. "But Holden is in the living room watching television. We believe Turner is with Joe."
"Then we have to get him out of there now," Frank demanded angrily. "That bastard has already done enough to hurt Joe."
"We're ready," Collig stated.
***
"Oh, come on, Joe," Turner scoffed. "How can your father love you? How can your brother? How could anyone? Look at yourself," he ordered. "You said it yourself. You have to be taken care of. You can't take care of yourself. Why would anyone love you?"
"Because he is a wonderful human being who loves and gives and cares," Fenton declared, striding through the open bedroom door with Frank, Collig and Officer Milhouse in tow.
"And he's the best brother anyone could ever have," Frank put in looking into his brother's eyes as he sat up. "Without him, I might as well be dead. He gives my life meaning," Frank added.
Frank sat down on the bed as the officer slapped a pair of cuffs onto Turner's wrists. He reached out and touched his brother's face in a loving caress. "You mean the world to me, Baby Brother. And no matter what that piece of scum, or anyone else, ever says, you are a great brother. You are not worthless or any of those other things he said you were. You bring joy into my life and you take care of me just as much as, if not more than, I take care of you."
"No...no, I don...don't," Joe disagreed.
"You do," Frank insisted. "In a different way. I may make sure you don't get hurt or killed but you make sure I never give up. And there have been plenty of times I wanted to give up but one look at your determined face and I knew I couldn't."
"He's right, Son," said Fenton, sitting down on Joe's other side as Collig and Milhouse led Turner from the room. "You are like a breath of sunshine. Just seeing you smile makes me the happiest father in the world. I love you," he said.
Joe looked at him with a hint of suspicion. "Re..really?" he asked softly.
Fenton almost shouted in rage. That bastard had made Joe believe he didn't love him again! He took a quick, calming breath, afraid any show of anger might be detrimental to Joe's fragile psyche. He took Joe's chin in his hand and stared into Joe's eyes. "Really," Fenton stated firmly. "I know I may not say it enough, but never doubt it. You, your brother, and your mother are my world. You three are the reason I solve mysteries. I want the world to be a better place for you. And the way I help to make it better and safer is to put away bad guys like Holden and Turner."
"I lo..love you too," Joe said, giving a tenuous smile.
Fenton clasped Joe in his arms and squeezed him as tightly as he dared. "Your mother is worried out of her mind," he said. "What say I get you to the hospital and Frank can go and pick her up?"
"You pick her up," Frank refused the suggestion with a scowl. "I want to stay with Joe."
"I'll pick her up and bring her to the hospital," Collig said with a grin from the doorway. "There's an ambulance outside to take Joe," he continued. "Dispatch just let me know that Seagram confessed to his part in Joe's kidnapping and the goings on at the Foundation. He heard about Grave's death on the scanner."
"They...they killed Graves," Joe put in.
"We know," Collig said. "Holden is talking and, as it turns out, Turner kept very detailed notes. Must be a carryover from taking notes from his patients." He turned around. "I'll send the paramedics in."
***
Two weeks later Joe was released from the hospital. He had started eating slowly to his family's dismay but after being informed that Joe was eating very well for someone who had literally starved themselves for so long they felt a little better. After the first week, Joe was eating five small balanced meals a day and the drugs that Turner and Holden had given him were completely out of his system. One more week and his health had improved greatly although it would be awhile before he was his old self again.
"Now that you are feeling better, it is time to discuss your punishment," Fenton said when they were all home and seated in the living room.
"I know," Frank said glumly. "No more mysteries."
"That is absolutely correct," Laura affirmed.
"You can't do that," Joe objected. "I know what I did was wrong. Dad made me see that while I was in the foundation," he added. "But I was doing it to help."
"Killing yourself isn't helping anyone," Laura stated.
"I went about it the wrong way," Joe said. "I know that. And if I ever have a problem and I can't figure out a safe solution, I promise to ask Frank, or one of you," he added, looking from his mother to his father and back to his mom. "But you can't stop us from solving mysteries," he insisted.
"And why not?" Laura demanded, ready to hear her son out even though she had no intention of giving in.
"Because we do it for the same reason Dad does," Joe said. "To make the world a better place for the people we care about."
Fenton smothered a laugh as Laura turned and glared at him. "Sorry, honey," he apologized. "I had to tell him the truth."
"Fine," she gave in with a weary sigh. "But if you ever, and I mean EVER, do something as rash and stupid as what you did this summer there will be no more chances. You will never solve another mystery. You won't even be allowed to watch them on television or read a book about one. Do I make myself clear?"
Joe grinned. "I love you too, Mom," he said.
End
Fenton took the receiver and listened to what the chief had to say in silence. After a couple of minutes he spoke softly into the handset so that neither Laura nor Frank could hear him and then hung up. "Frank, let's go," he said, heading for the door at a run. He didn't want Laura to ask what the chief had told him.
"Okay, what gives?" Frank asked once the two were in the car and on the highway.
"They found Graves' body," Fenton answered in a grim tone. "A group of teenagers saw two men dump a sack into the river and take off. Two of the teens followed the vehicle while two others dove in after the sack."
"Why do that?" Frank wondered. "I mean, surely Turner and Holden must know the body would float."
"With the current, the body would be out to sea before it floated," Fenton answered. "You know the body has to bloat up before it will float."
"What about the lead?" asked Frank.
"The two teens followed the car to a cul-de-sac," Fenton answered. "Ezra said he already has the area surrounded. He's just waiting for us to get there before moving in."
***
"Get up," snarled Turner as Holden came running into the room.
"Easy," Holden told Turner. "No harm done. It was your fault anyway for leaving him alone."
Turner opened his mouth to argue but closed it again and gave a deep sigh. "You are right," he admitted. "I should have known better." He bent down and took Joe's arm and helped him to his feet.
"Take him back to his room," Holden suggested. "You can finish your session there."
Turner pulled Joe along with him as he made his way up the stairs and to the small room that served as Joe's prison. "Lie down," he instructed as he released Joe's arm. "You may as well be comfortable."
"I don't want too," Joe declined stubbornly.
"Suit yourself," Turner said, taking a seat in the solitary chair by the dresser. "Shall I begin again?" he asked. "Or do you wish to start the conversation?"
"It doesn't matter," said Joe. "Everything you say is a lie."
"I haven't lied to you," Turner denied solemnly. "I merely asked you questions to clarify what you were telling me. I am trying to help you."
"No, you aren't," Joe retorted. "You don't want me to get well."
"No, we don't," agreed Turner. "However, it is the genetics involved that concern our research. Your mental stability has no real effect in the research," he lied. "As a matter of fact," he continued. "In order to obtain, true, undiluted results, you need to get over the mental aspect of the disease. It's the physical aspect we are working on."
"But it's a mental disease," Joe argued, his confusion evident in his features.
"Only to a point," Turner said. He knew the drugs in Joe's system would wear down his resistance. He had only to keep Joe off balance for a little bit before he was once again a slab of clay to work with. "So you see, it is to our advantage to get you well mentally and we can't do that if you don't cooperate. And since you insist you want to be well then this works out for both of us although to different ends."
"I...I guess," Joe stuttered, unable to think straight without his head hurting. He sank down onto the bed but did not lie down. "I..I want to..to get well."
"Of course you do," Turner said in a soothing voice. "And I am going to help you. Why don't you lie back and we can begin?" he suggested again.
This time, Joe did as he had been bidden. He stared at the ceiling without seeing it as Turner began to speak. Joe's mind wandered back to a time when he was younger, only four years old. His brother wanted to go on the roller coaster but he had been afraid. "He shouldn't have gone," Joe said in a small voice.
"Who shouldn't have gone?" asked Turner, confused. He had been asking Joe about his mother but it was obvious that while Joe had heard him he had not been listening.
"Frank," answered Joe. "He should have stayed with me. He knew I was afraid but he wanted to go anyway so Dad took him on the ride."
"Why should he have stayed with you?" asked Turner.
"Because if he hadn't gone on the ride then mom wouldn't have taken me into the funhouse," replied Joe, his tone innocent but exasperated. "Then I wouldn't have gotten kidnapped."
"So it was Frank's fault you were kidnapped?" Turner asked.
"Yes," Joe answered. "No. He didn't know," he defended Frank. "But if he hadn't wanted to ride the roller coaster then we would have gone on home."
"You think your brother wanted you gone?" Turner asked.
"No!" Joe denied vehemently. "Frank loves me. He takes care of me. He would never want me gone."
"But it was his fault?" Turner pushed.
"I...I guess so," Joe replied in a small voice. "I wanted to go home but he wanted Dad to take him for one more ride."
"And your Dad did so readily?" Turner inquired. Joe nodded. "Perhaps your father suspected something might happen," he suggested, causing Joe to look at him through fearful blue eyes that reminded him of a child. "Maybe your father saw this as an opportunity to get rid of the child who was turning out to be such a disappointment to him."
"No," Joe whispered, tears streaming down his face. "No," he said again. "Daddy loves me."
"He told you so?" Turner inquired. Joe nodded. "How often does he tell you that he loves you?"
Joe's body started shaking as he realized that his dad rarely ever told him. Maybe his dad only told him he loved him when he did so Joe would do whatever his father wanted him to do.
***
"Have you seen him?" Fenton demanded of Collig when he and Frank arrived at the entrance to the cul-de-sac.
"No," Collig admitted. "But Holden is in the living room watching television. We believe Turner is with Joe."
"Then we have to get him out of there now," Frank demanded angrily. "That bastard has already done enough to hurt Joe."
"We're ready," Collig stated.
***
"Oh, come on, Joe," Turner scoffed. "How can your father love you? How can your brother? How could anyone? Look at yourself," he ordered. "You said it yourself. You have to be taken care of. You can't take care of yourself. Why would anyone love you?"
"Because he is a wonderful human being who loves and gives and cares," Fenton declared, striding through the open bedroom door with Frank, Collig and Officer Milhouse in tow.
"And he's the best brother anyone could ever have," Frank put in looking into his brother's eyes as he sat up. "Without him, I might as well be dead. He gives my life meaning," Frank added.
Frank sat down on the bed as the officer slapped a pair of cuffs onto Turner's wrists. He reached out and touched his brother's face in a loving caress. "You mean the world to me, Baby Brother. And no matter what that piece of scum, or anyone else, ever says, you are a great brother. You are not worthless or any of those other things he said you were. You bring joy into my life and you take care of me just as much as, if not more than, I take care of you."
"No...no, I don...don't," Joe disagreed.
"You do," Frank insisted. "In a different way. I may make sure you don't get hurt or killed but you make sure I never give up. And there have been plenty of times I wanted to give up but one look at your determined face and I knew I couldn't."
"He's right, Son," said Fenton, sitting down on Joe's other side as Collig and Milhouse led Turner from the room. "You are like a breath of sunshine. Just seeing you smile makes me the happiest father in the world. I love you," he said.
Joe looked at him with a hint of suspicion. "Re..really?" he asked softly.
Fenton almost shouted in rage. That bastard had made Joe believe he didn't love him again! He took a quick, calming breath, afraid any show of anger might be detrimental to Joe's fragile psyche. He took Joe's chin in his hand and stared into Joe's eyes. "Really," Fenton stated firmly. "I know I may not say it enough, but never doubt it. You, your brother, and your mother are my world. You three are the reason I solve mysteries. I want the world to be a better place for you. And the way I help to make it better and safer is to put away bad guys like Holden and Turner."
"I lo..love you too," Joe said, giving a tenuous smile.
Fenton clasped Joe in his arms and squeezed him as tightly as he dared. "Your mother is worried out of her mind," he said. "What say I get you to the hospital and Frank can go and pick her up?"
"You pick her up," Frank refused the suggestion with a scowl. "I want to stay with Joe."
"I'll pick her up and bring her to the hospital," Collig said with a grin from the doorway. "There's an ambulance outside to take Joe," he continued. "Dispatch just let me know that Seagram confessed to his part in Joe's kidnapping and the goings on at the Foundation. He heard about Grave's death on the scanner."
"They...they killed Graves," Joe put in.
"We know," Collig said. "Holden is talking and, as it turns out, Turner kept very detailed notes. Must be a carryover from taking notes from his patients." He turned around. "I'll send the paramedics in."
***
Two weeks later Joe was released from the hospital. He had started eating slowly to his family's dismay but after being informed that Joe was eating very well for someone who had literally starved themselves for so long they felt a little better. After the first week, Joe was eating five small balanced meals a day and the drugs that Turner and Holden had given him were completely out of his system. One more week and his health had improved greatly although it would be awhile before he was his old self again.
"Now that you are feeling better, it is time to discuss your punishment," Fenton said when they were all home and seated in the living room.
"I know," Frank said glumly. "No more mysteries."
"That is absolutely correct," Laura affirmed.
"You can't do that," Joe objected. "I know what I did was wrong. Dad made me see that while I was in the foundation," he added. "But I was doing it to help."
"Killing yourself isn't helping anyone," Laura stated.
"I went about it the wrong way," Joe said. "I know that. And if I ever have a problem and I can't figure out a safe solution, I promise to ask Frank, or one of you," he added, looking from his mother to his father and back to his mom. "But you can't stop us from solving mysteries," he insisted.
"And why not?" Laura demanded, ready to hear her son out even though she had no intention of giving in.
"Because we do it for the same reason Dad does," Joe said. "To make the world a better place for the people we care about."
Fenton smothered a laugh as Laura turned and glared at him. "Sorry, honey," he apologized. "I had to tell him the truth."
"Fine," she gave in with a weary sigh. "But if you ever, and I mean EVER, do something as rash and stupid as what you did this summer there will be no more chances. You will never solve another mystery. You won't even be allowed to watch them on television or read a book about one. Do I make myself clear?"
Joe grinned. "I love you too, Mom," he said.
End