Joe cracked his eyes open briefly and shook his head. "No, no," he mumbled. "Not..." The words died as Joe faded off to sleep. Frank swallowed as the tears ran down his cheeks.
Fenton, standing behind Frank, put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. "Dr. Wagner said Joe's been drifting in and out of consciousness all day," he informed Frank quietly. "We have to leave," he added softly a couple of minutes later.
"We just got here," Frank argued.
"We had to come and sign Joe's admittance forms," Fenton said gently. "They had to give him a sedative to calm him down. He won't be fully conscious until sometime tomorrow."
"I want to stay with him," Frank insisted.
"So do your mother and I, but we can't," Fenton told him. "Son, Joe may be here for the rest of his life," he pointed out, his voice breaking. "You can't stay with him forever. Tomorrow, we'll come back," he promised. Frank nodded his consent to the arrangement and his dad leaned down and kissed Joe's forehead. On the other side of Joe's bed, Laura did the same, then they both went over to the door to wait while Frank told Joe goodbye.
"I'll be back tomorrow," Frank promised Joe. "We'll get you out of here somehow," he added, tears falling onto Joe's face as he leaned over to kiss him on his forehead.
"Murder," mumbled Joe, moving his head restlessly. Frank's stomach clenched and he stood up straight, afraid he would take the bindings off of his brother and get him out of there in spite of what everyone thought. He moved a lock of hair off Joe's forehead then left with his parents.
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Frank came downstairs dressed in black the next morning. Jim Cornett's funeral was in one hour and he was going with his parents.
"Do you think Mrs. Brown will mind us being at the funeral?" Frank asked his dad as they were leaving.
"Who?" Fenton asked.
"Stephanie Brown. She was Jim's sister," Frank replied.
Fenton wrinkled his brow. "Do you remember my telling you that in a mystery there's no such thing as coincidence?" he asked Frank.
"Yeah," Frank replied, looking at his father questioningly.
"Stephanie Cornett Brown was the district attorney here in Bayport twelve years ago," Fenton told him. "We've worked together several times."
"You think someone decided to get back at you both by killing her brother and framing Joe," Frank surmised. "But why now? Joe isn't able to be punished for it even if he had of killed him."
"We know Joe has been getting ill now, but when Jim was murdered no one even suspected he was sick," Fenton reminded him.
"Except Joe," Frank said quietly. "He told me he thought he was losing it, but I thought he was just tired from not getting any sleep. I should have listened," he added, berating himself.
"Don't Son," Fenton said and putting a consoling hand on Frank's shoulder. "No two brothers have ever been closer than you and Joe. He knows that."
"Did you find out anything about the robbery at Maxines?" Frank asked while they waited on the porch for Laura to finish getting ready and join them.
"Not much," Fenton admitted. "But I did learn that the jewelry you handed me wasn't all that was taken."
"Oh?" Frank asked, his eyebrow lifting up in interest.
"A man's gold ring with a ruby inset is still missing," Fenton informed him. "I'm betting that whoever has the ring is the person who tried to frame Joe."
"Any leads at all?" Frank inquired.
"I have a theory and the police are checking into it, but they haven't gotten back in touch with me," Fenton replied.
"Laura came out of the house and closed the door, locking it. "Let's go," she said, her voice raspy. She had cried all night over Joe and felt like staying home and crying some more but she knew she had to attend the funeral.
Fenton took her hand and squeezed it. She gave him a faint smile and the three walked to the car and left for the church.
As they were pulling in, Frank asked, "When are you going to talk to Mrs. Brown about the murder?"
"What?" Laura asked, turning around and looking at her eldest son in the backseat, and then back to her husband beside her.
Fenton explained to her about a possible connection between Joe's being framed and Jim's death and then answered Frank. "Tomorrow I'll call her. After we get home I'll start looking to see if anyone connected to both of us has been released recently," he added. "You can go visit Joe today and help me tomorrow."
"Joe may be sick, but no one's going to frame him especially when he can't fight back," Frank vowed, ready to take on everyone if need be.
But Joe was fighting back. At the moment he was lying on the floor in a straight jacket screaming for help and kicking out at Doctor Wagner. Two orderlies burst in and helped to subdue Joe. "Now, now, Joesph," Dr, Wagner said after Joe had been secured to the bed once again. "Is that any way to act after I allowed you to go to the bathroom?"
"Why are you doing this to me?" Joe demanded.
"No one's doing anything to you," the doctor told him. "You're becoming paranoid."
"No, I'm not," Joe replied with conviction. "I thought I was going crazy because of the voices in my head, but you put them there."
"How could I have done that?" Dr. Wagner asked him. "I'm trying to help you," he insisted.
"Yeah, right," Joe sneered, his blue eyes flashing angrily. "I'm not stupid. If the voices were really my imagination then they wouldn't have the same voices as your two friends over there," he retorted, referring to the two orderlies who stood by waiting for instructions from the doctor.
"Busted, huh?" Dr. Wagner asked with a lift of one eyebrow and a malicious grin. "Just as well. I've been worried someone might find the transmitter and tapes." He turned to look at the two orderlies. "Fred," he said to the brown headed man of about twenty-five years old, "go get rid of the transmitter and tapes. Jeff, help me remove the receivers from Joe's ears," he added to the small red-headed man also in his mid-twenties.
He turned back to Joe as Fred left the room. "No more voices," he promised, taking the instrument Jeff handed him. "But it doesn't really matter." Jeff held Joe's head still while the doctor inserted the instrument into Joe's ear and pulled out a small metal disk, smaller than a watch battery. He repeated the process with Joe's other ear.
He then went to a cabinet on the wall and unlocked it and removed a bottle. He picked up a syringe from the table and filled it. He then took a presoaked cotton ball from a jar and came back to where Joe lay. "With continued use, this stuff causes brain damage," he told Joe, looking down into his eyes. "You may be sane now, but within two weeks, that will change," he promised. Before Joe could scream again, Jeff clamped a hand over Joe's mouth as the doctor swabbed Joe's leg beneath the gown he was wearing and inserted the needle.
Almost at once Joe's eyes started watering and his face twisted in pain. "One of the things I love about this new drug," Dr. Wagner said, watching Joe develop a vacant look, "it's effects can be felt immediately." He threw away the syringe and locked the bottle in the cabinet, then he and Jeff left Joe alone.
As soon as Dr. Wagner was out of sight a slender red-head made her way to Joe's room. She pushed a gurney with a large bowl, shampoo, and towels. She started to open Joe's door but was halted by an authoratative voice.
"What are you doing?" Dr. Wagner demanded, his harsh green eyes boring into her as he came around the corner.
"Nurse Johnson told me to wash all the patients hair," the young voulunteer told him. "She said one of the patients had lice and they all had to be checked and the infected ones treated."
Dr. Wagner wrinkled his nose but opened the door for her to enter. "Make it quick," he ordered. "He gets violent." Dr. Wagner then went into the room ahead of her and, walking over to the desk, ripped off a sheet of paper from a notepad and left the room.
The red-head went over to Joe's bed and kissed him gently on the lips, her brown eyes bright. "Hey baby," she said softly. "It's me, Vanessa." She swallowed and sniffed before continuing. "I just want you to know you're not alone in here. I was afraid they wouldn't let me near you so I put on a disguise and got a job here." She paused and looked at his eyes. They were open and he was looking at her but she knew he wasn't really seeing her. She only hoped he could hear her. "No one believes you killed the janitor," she told him. "And Frank's going to prove it." Joe moaned and started moving his head restlessly back and forth. "Easy, baby," she said, kissing his forehead. "It will all work out all right. You'll get better and everything will be back to the way it's supposed to be."
She stood up and pushed the gurney closer and took a pair of disposable gloves and put them on. Unfortunately, she had been telling Dr. Wagner the truth about checking all the patients for lice.
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"Fenton," Stephanie Brown said as she saw him enter the church near the graveyard where the burial was to be. She walked over and Fenton gave her a brief hug. "How's Joe?" she asked. "I heard he was admitted to Corwin."
"Not good," he admitted sadly. "I'm sorry about Jim," he added.
"So am I," she said, her hazel eyes flashing in a mixture of sadness and anger. "But whoever killed him is going to be even sorrier," she vowed. Seeing the surprised expression on Fenton's face and the angry scowls of Laura and Frank, she continued, "I know Joe didn't kill him. As soon as I found out it was your son who had been arrested for the murder I knew it had to be an old enemy of ours."
"Yeah," Fenton agreed. "I had already came to that conclusion."
"I know tomorrow is Sunday, but knowing you it won't matter. Stop over and we can go through my files. We are bound to find someone who had the chance to kill Jim and frame Joe." She looked over and saw her husband looking at her anxiously. "I'd better go," she said. "Thanks for coming. I know how hard it is for you right now," she added before going to join her husband.
After the funeral, Laura went to clean Joe's room. "He'll get better," she said. "And he'll need a clean room to come home to," she added, her voice breaking as she left.
Fenton watched her climb the steps with sadness. He turned to Frank. "I'm going to look through my files and make some calls. Maybe I can turn up something now."
"I'm going to stay with Joe as long as they will let me," Frank told his dad as he left.
At Corwin, Frank asked to see Joe. He waited twenty minutes before the door opened and Dr. Wagner came out. "Can I see Joe now?" Frank asked, jumping to his feet.
"Yes," Dr. Wagner said. "But I must warn you, he's not doing well."
"What do you mean?" Frank asked in alarm.
"He's not responding to anyone," Dr. Wagner told him. "You'll see what I mean," he added, leading Frank to Joe's room. Dr. Wagner let Frank inside then left them alone.
"Hey Baby Brother," Frank said, walking over to Joe and smiling when he saw Joe's open eyes. But then he noticed the glassy look and realized Joe had no clue he was there. Frank sat down in the chair beside the bed and started crying.
He stopped and jerked to a standing position when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He spun around and saw a red-haired girl with brown eyes. The face looked vaguely familiar but he couldn't quite place her. She held her finger to her lips and handed Frank a piece of paper. It had pencil marks running back and forth across it to show an indention made from a previous page. On the sheet were scribbled the words: Maisieno 10cc's 2x daily brain damage extended use death. Then the red head took Frank's hand and pointed to a bottle in the locked cabinet. The bottle was about a fourth empty and was labeled Maisieno!
