"Where did you get that?" Frank asked, closing the door behind him as he came over to stand beside Joe.
"I...I...I found it," Joe stammered, more shocked than Frank.
"When?" Frank demanded. "Where?" he asked without waiting for an answer to the first question.
Joe swallowed nervously. "In my drawer," he answered truthfully. "How did it get there?" he asked Frank.
"Why don't you tell me?" Frank countered, the detective in him popping out before he thought about what he was saying.
Joe looked at Frank angrily. He couldn't believe Frank was accusing him of stealing. No matter what the circumstances, Frank should know him better than that. "How should I know?" he shouted at Frank. The voices in his head were talking faster. It was almost unbearable.
"What else is in your drawer?" Frank asked, coming over and looking inside. Lying there were about half a dozen more watches and a few necklaces and rings. "What have you done?" he asked, eyes wide.
"I took a watch for every day of the week," Joe told him and flung the Rolex in his hand at Frank. "Have one. I've got plenty!" he added, turning and storming into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
Frank watched Joe slam the door, then he gathered the jewelry up into a tee shirt, careful not to touch anything except for the Rolex Joe had thrown at him, and went to his father's study which he had converted into an office. "Dad," he said, going inside with the tee shirt. "We've got a problem."
Fenton looked up from his computer and watched Frank lay the tee shirt on his desk. Letting go of his hold, the shirt fell open to reveal the stolen jewelry and watches. Fenton gasped in amazement at the array then looked back to Frank who laid the Rolex on the desk beside the shirt. "They were in Joe's drawer," Frank stated.
"Joe?" Fenton asked, his brown eyes wide in disbelief. He stood up and went to Joe's room followed by Frank. They sat down on the bed to wait for Joe to come out of the bathroom.
Frank looked at the mess in his brother's room. Unlike Frank, Joe's room had magazines and comics scattered over the desk and dresser. Clothes were lying on the floor. Even Joe's shoes were lying in an awkward place. Frank bent down to pull Joe's half buried shoes from beneath a pile of CD cases. He picked them up and set them down where they could be seen, then picked one back up. It was damp near the bottom on the outside. His father saw what Frank was doing and got off the bed. He knelt down and felt for a wet spot on the floor where something might have spilt and got the shoes wet. No luck.
"What are you doing?" Joe asked, coming out of the bathroom and finding his brother and father snooping around. He had a towel around his waist and another wrapped around his neck to catch the dribbling water from his wet blond hair.
"Where did you go last night?" Fenton asked Joe, standing up and looking Joe in the eyes.
"No where," Joe replied. "I slept all night."
"Your shoes are damp," Frank said. "Like you ran through the grass earlier," he stated his observation.
"You think I broke into Maxine's," Joe accused his dad and brother, disillusionment written on his face. How could they even think that?
"Did you?" Fenton asked before Frank could say a word.
"It definitely got your attention," Joe sneered, agreeing with the voices in his head.
"You did," Fenton said sadly.
"No," Joe told him, not really sure. "But if that's what you want to believe, have me arrested. I'll be at school," he added, picking up his clothes from the floor and returning to the bathroom to dress. When he came back out Frank and his father had gone. Joe put on his shoes, grabbed his backpack and went downstairs. He could hear his family talking in the kitchen so he left by the front door.
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"Don't you just hate him," he heard the voices in his head start as he sat on the school steps watching the janitor mow the lawn. "He should die. He's a nobody. You'd be somebody if you killed him." Joe closed his eyes, his face scrunched into a grimace of pain as he listened to his evil thoughts. Why were the voices speaking to him? Why did they say such terrible things? Why did he feel like killing someone?
"Joe," he heard a loud voice from in front of him.
"What is it?" Joe snapped at Vanessa Bender, his blond-headed, hazel-eyed seventeen year old girlfriend.
"I just wanted to know if you were alright," she said, hurt by his tone.
"I'm fine," he said. "Just go away," he added.
Vanessa's eyes started watering but she turned away before Joe could see. "You're going to be late," she told him and strode off for her class.
Joe stayed on the steps, watching the janitor. The bell rang announcing first period, but he ignored it.
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Joe stepped out of the bathroom after second period and looked around. Everyone was trying to look out the window at the back of the school. "You did good," the voices were saying. "Now everyone will pay attention to you," they continued. Joe shook his head to clear it. he seemed to be in a daze. He turned to go to his locker when an announcement came over the loud speaker.
"Everyone, please go to the gymnasium," Principal Falkner said. "The police are on their way and have requested everyone be gathered in the gymnasium," he continued. "Please proceed in an orderly manner. Thank you."
"Why are the police on their way?" Joe asked Craig Stevewns who had fourth period with him.
"Someone killed the janitor."
