"You knocked me out of a good thing, kid," Cavanaugh replied, pushing Joe away from the refrigerator and closing the door with his foot. "Put the stuff on the table real easy," he ordered Joe. "You and I are going for a little ride."
Setting the milk and plate on the table, Joe asked, "How did you know I was still alive?"
"I doubled back and saw you and two other guys talking to a cop," Cavanaugh answered.
"Turn it off," Cavanaugh ordered, pushing Joe over to the alarm box. Joe silently complied. "Now let's go." He shoved Joe toward the kitchen door. They had almost reached it when the lights went out.
Joe, who had been waiting for a chance to get away, bent down and grabbed the hand holding the gun. Forcing the gun up, Joe pulled his arm back and let go with a solid right to Cavanaugh's jaw. As the lights came back on, Cavanaugh slumped to the floor, unconscious.
Joe glanced over at the light switch as he knelt to check Cavanaugh's pulse. He saw Frank standing there with a grim look on his face. "Great timing big brother," Joe told him with a relieved grin. "How did you know?"
"I didn't," admitted Frank ruefully, picking up the kitchen phone and dialing the police. "I came down to apologize for being so rough on you upstairs," he added, then spoke tot he officer who answered.
"I kind of deserved it," Joe told frank after he had hung up. "I have been spending too much time with Angelic. I guess I felt guilty about suspecting her," he admitted.
"Easy," Joe warned Cavanaugh as the man groaned and tried to sit up. "You're not going anywhere," he added. "You would be a lot better off if you told us what you've been up to."
"I'm not telling you anything," Cavanaugh snapped at Joe bitterly. The police arrived shortly and took him into custody. Joe put the left-overs in the microwave while Frank poured them each a glass of milk. After their snack, they straightened up the kitchen and went upstairs. Joe fell asleep immediately, but Frank was too busy thinking about everything that had happened. About an hour later, he was asleep.
Early the next morning, Frank woke joe up. "Come on baby brother," he urged. "We've got work to do."
"What?" Joe asked, yawning.
"I just got off the phone with Con," Frank told him. "Cavanaugh admitted to ramming you and shooting at you but he denies having anything to do with the attacks on Angelic."
"Do you think he's telling the truth?" Joe asked, now fully awake.
"Con does," Frank replied. "Which means we have to find out who is behind the attacks and the only way to do that is to find Angelic's dad and question him about the messages he has been receiving."
"I'd like to know why he hasn't been concerned about his daughter's safety," Joe added, his jaw tightening in distaste. "Just to take off and disappear like that, he must be a real slimeball no matter what Bryson told you." He paused and looked at Frank. "I know you think he was telling the truth, but is it possible he did lie to you?"
"It's possible," Frank admitted slowly. "The best way to see, I suppose, is to find out who Bryson's friends are and ask around."
"You do that," Joe told him. "I'll find Angelic's dad and talk to him."
"Do you think you can find him?" Frank asked.
"I'm sure Angelic knows where he is," Joe replied. "I'll find him," he promised, then went to take a shower.
Frank left for New York before Joe came out of the shower. He took his father's car, not wanting to wait on the train, and soon arrived in Bryson's neighborhood. He talked with the man's neighbors and discovered Bryson spent a lot of time at Peabody's in the city. He looked up the address and headed over there.
After about thirty minutes, he found himself in conversation with a man who had know Bryson for almost twenty years. "Ah, yes," the man said. "I remember Sally Bryson. Dusty loved her with all his heart but near the end it got to be almost too much for him. The man Dusty worked for, I think his name was Deveraux, he helped Dusty a lot. Dusty swears he's a saint."
A few minutes later Frank thanked the man for his time and left the cafe. He stopped by the new York City Police Department and asked to see Chief Peterson. Minutes later, Frank was sitting in his office.
"Now this is a surprise," the chief said. "Two visits in one week."
"I know," Frank said unhappily. "I hate to keep bothering you but this case is going nowhere." He brought the chief up to date on the recent attacks and Cavanaugh's arrest.
"Looks like you need a new suspect," Chief Peterson noted. "What kind of help do you need from me?"
"Do you know anything about Dr. Philips?" Frank asked. "Angelic stopped going to him for some reason. Maybe he did something that made her afraid to go back?" he theorized.
"And he's trying to keep her quiet?" Chief Peterson finished Frank's theory, then shook his head. "Your dad and I met Kevin Philips years ago. He's a good man and I would trust him with my life," he added. "Did he give you any reason to believe he might be guilty?"
"No," Frank admitted, shaking his head with the denial. "It was a shot in the dark. I guess I'm getting desperate," he added, running a hand through his hair and resting it for a second at the back of his head before dropping it and standing up. He began to pace the floor as he talked. "The only thing he did was ask me questions."
"What kind of questions?" Chief Peterson asked.
Frank frowned at him then said, "He asked if I trusted Joe's instincts." He stood still and thought for a moment. "Why would he ask me that?" he wondered out loud. He turned on his heel and headed toward the door. "Thanks," Frank said opening the door. "You've been a great help."
Frank raced out of the building, jumped in the car and drove to Dr. Philips office. "What do you want this time?" asked the receptionist wearily as he entered the office.
"I'd like to speak with Dr. Philips," he said politely.
"I'll tell him you're here," she said. "Please have a seat." A minute later she told him to go in.
"What can I do for you now?" Dr. Philips asked Frank after he had entered the office and closed the door.
"Why did you ask me if I trusted Joe's instincts?" Frank demanded. "Is Angelic dangerous?"
"You know your brother better than I," responded the doctor.
"I just spoke with Chief Peterson about you," Frank stated. "He said he trusted you. I want to know if my brother is in any danger by being with Angelic?"
"Why would he be with her?" Dr. Philips asked, sitting up straight and alert in his chair. "You said he didn't trust her."
"She said she was seeing you because she was having a hard time dealing with her mother's stroke," Frank said, ignoring the question. "Is that the real reason?" He noticed Dr. Philips eyes narrow and his lips pull down a fraction into a slight frown. "Is my brother in danger?" Frank demanded an answer.
"It's possible," Dr. Phillips admitted finally. "I can't tell you what she and I discussed while she was here," he added. "It's unethical."
"And it's ethical to let someone die if you could prevent it?" Frank retorted angrily.
"I told you Angelic was a complex person," Dr. Philips asserted. "When her father died she came to me for counseling. That was a month after the last appointment her father had made. Prior to that one time I had been seeing her twice a week. She came that one time on her own and made an appointment for a second visit, which she canceled in person. My seretary assured me she was in good spirits so I never tried to call her to reschedule."
"What did you say?" Frank had gone white as a sheet before Dr. Philips had finished his defensive speech. "About her father?" Frank clarified his question.
"After he died, she came to me once for counseling."
