Chapter Two

"So, Eppes, I hear that your little brother refuses to pull your ass out of the fire again. Maybe he figures it's time you did your own case work for a change."

Don wasn't sure why, but there was something about Agent Jack Carlson, beyond the fact that the man was a grade-A ass, that made the back of his neck tingle. He looked at the large blond agent standing in his way. "Charlie has contributed all he can to this case, Carlson."

Jack Carlson sneered. "Yeah. Well, tell me, how does it feel to know that you can't investigate a case without baby bro filling in the blanks? I hear that you two graduated high school on the same day. Tell me, did you have to carry him onto the stage to get his diploma?"

January 7

11:15 am

Alan Eppes heard the front door open and waited for his oldest son to appear from the foyer. It had to be Don. He was the only one who used the front door anymore. Charlie always came in through the back when he came home.

"Dad?"

Yup, he thought. It was Don. It was comforting to know he was right once in a while. "In here," he called.

"Hey," Don called as he peered into the dining room.

"Hey yourself," Alan replied pleasantly without looking up from his newspaper. He glanced at his wristwatch. "Kind of early for you to be out of the office isn't it?"

He heard Don move past him into the kitchen and pour himself a cup of coffee from the insulated thermos. "I didn't to into the office today."

Alan looked up and saw that his son, the sight of whom had become synonymous with suit and tie, was wearing old jeans and a faded blue Oxford shirt. For Don to have taken a day off meant that something was going on. He put down his coffee cup and folded his newspaper. "Want to talk about it?"

His oldest sat down and stared into the steam rising from the mug in front of him. "Talk about what?" he replied evasively.

"Why you're here on a Friday morning out of uniform. You haven't taken a day off in a year at least."

"Yeah. Well, I had some time coming. The case we're working on is at a bit of a stand still."

"Still doesn't explain why you're here."

"Do I need a reason to be here?" Don asked with a defiant look.

"Of course not. This is your home, always will be as long as I'm around. You don't need a reason to be here. But I suspect that you have a reason for being here."

Don ran his hands through his short-cropped hair. "Am I that obvious?"

"To me. I can always tell when something is on your mind. You're easier to read than Charlie. Now Charlie," he let the name of his younger trail off for a moment. "Your mother was the expert in that area."

"Charlie." The name was almost whispered, Don said it so quietly. "I need to talk to him, Dad. I need to tell him …" he floundered, ashamed of what he'd said to his brother but not quite able to put that shame into words. "Tell him … you know."

Alan nodded and blew out a breath. "Yeah, I know." He paused a moment. "I have to ask you, son, what made you say those things? You've been working pretty well together, I thought. Did something happen between you and Charlie that I don't know about?"

Don hung his head. "No, Dad, nothing happened, nothing to do with Charlie, anyway. Not directly." He stopped for a moment, trying to put into coherent words the reasons behind his lashing out. He knew from experience that his father would patiently wait until he had it clear in his head so he took his time.

"We have been working well together. I mean, Charlie's a great help. I honestly don't know what we'd do without him sometimes. And I appreciate what he's done for us. I know it hasn't always been easy for him." Don stopped again. He remembered the shell-shocked look on his brother's face as he stared at the blood and carnage of the crime scene outside the bank a few months before. He remembered that Charlie had almost given up the case because he thought he was responsible for the ambush; because he couldn't bear the idea that the information he provided almost got Don killed. The FBI agent shook his head and took a long drink of coffee, mentally banishing Charlie's haunted eyes from his mind. This was going to be harder than he thought.

"About two months ago a new agent was posted to our office. His name is Jack Carlson and he's … he's not someone I'd want watching my back in any circumstance. His game is that he gets into agents' case files under the pretext of getting a feel for who's working with. He takes stock of who he's up against and uses the information he gathers to detect any weaknesses."

"Ah," the Eppes patriarch murmured sagely.

"Ah?"

"Ah. As in "Ah" he sees you as top dog and put you on the top of his hit list. Am I right?"

Don sighed heavily. "You have no idea. We are the third So Cal office he's been assigned to in the last ten months."

"This guy sounds like a real winner. How come he's still in the field?"

"He doesn't actually do anything wrong. That's the problem," Don informed him with a helpless gesture. "He simply makes himself a pain the ass and manages to alienate everyone around him. I guess the Bureau figures if hey transfer him enough they'll find an office he can actually work in."

"So what's he doing to you?"

"He's found my weak spot."

"Ah."

"Again with the 'ah', Dad."

" 'Ah' as in Charlie."

"Yeah." Don scrubbed his face with his hands. "He says I'm only where I am because of Charlie's abilities. He uses Charlie's participation as a consultant to undermine my abilities as an agent. No one is taking him seriously but he's letting everyone know that he thinks I'm nothing without my little brother there to provide answers and he's seriously pissing me off."

"So you decided to vent your frustrations about this moron on your brother."

"I don't know, Dad. It's not just Carlson. It's this case. I know Charlie gave us all he had. The whole case in an anomaly, he says. There's no apparent hot spot to work with, there's seemingly no connection between the victims except that they are all males. They all had different jobs. They all had different lifestyles. They all lived in different areas."

The federal agent surged to his feet and squeezed his fingers against his eyes. "There's something here we're missing, I can feel it. I just …. I know Charlie said he's done all he can for us but there has to be something else. Something that links these guys somehow, something."

"There is something that links them, Don. Something that I think is bothering you more than you care to admit."

"What's that?"

"Each of them has gotten progressively younger and the last one was about Charlie's age."

Alan watched his son wrestle with his thoughts for a moment. He'd figured out what the problem was quite awhile ago, he just figured Don needed to come to terms with it on his own. He was glad, in a way. It showed just how much Don cared about Charlie. Not that he'd ever really doubted it.

After a few moments, his son sat back down, his shoulders slumped in defeat, and held up his head with his hands. "I guess that's some of it," he admitted. He looked up at his father, distress written all over his face. "I see his face in the photos, Dad. I see those guys and I see Charlie's face. It's almost like… like some kind of premonition. It's almost like it's already happened and I can't stop it."

Don hated feeling this way! He had spent years in college studying criminal science and his years at the Academy learning to stifle his emotions. Outwardly, he was as detached as the best of them. He'd managed to detach himself inside, too, most of the time, and at those times when it was hard he took pride in the fact that no one ever knew. Well, almost no one. But this time it was different. This time there was something going on that he couldn't suppress and he couldn't explain and he hated it. He hated it even more because it had caused him to lash out at the one person who deserved it the least. He sighed heavily.

"I just want to see him, Dad. I want to tell him I'm sorry."

"I'm afraid I don't know what to tell you, Don. I haven't seen Charlie in days."

A feeling of alarm crept through Don Eppes. "Days? Charlie hasn't been home in days?"

"No, now I didn't say he hasn't come home. I said I haven't seen him."

"Dad, you're not making any sense. What's going on with Charlie?"

Alan shook his head. "I wish I knew. He comes home late. He leaves early. I don't think he's sleeping because I hear his phone ring in the middle of the night and I can hear him talking. I don't know if he's eating because he's not here for meals."

"Dad! Why didn't you say something sooner?"

"Say what? He's a grown man, Donny, even if we don't always treat him like one."

"Do you know where he is? Do you have any ideas?"

"I'm guessing he's in his classroom. It's where he goes when he needs to get work done."

"Classes don't start for another two weeks."

"Your brother does more than teach classes and consult for the FBI."

"I know he does. I guess I just never thought it would take so much time."

"Your brother may be a genius but that doesn't mean the work does itself."

"Yeah. Look, I'll drive over to the campus and see if I can track him down."

The elder Eppes nodded and Don could see in his face how worried he was. They both knew that while Charlie was indeed a grown man he didn't always have the common sense to eat regular meals or get enough sleep. When he was consumed by a project, it took up his entire realm of consciousness. And Charlie had, not recently but in the past, worked himself into such a state of exhaustion he'd had to be hospitalized.

Don stood up and pulled the car keys out of his pocket. "I'll try and find out what's going on and I'll call you. Okay?"

"Okay."

"And Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"Anytime. Now go on, find your brother. And, Don, take a sandwich along, would you? Charlie … " At a loss for how to put his feelings into words, Alan shrugged.

Don put a hand on his father's shoulder and nodded. He knew what his father was trying to say.