"Your dad there?" Con asked.
"No," Frank answered, feeling a bit sick as he heard the concern and fear creep into Con's voice. "Why?"
"If Joe's working undercover as one of the models, don't leave him alone," Con cautioned. "Especially if anyone involved knows where you live."
Frank swallowed. "I...I won't," he said. "I'll be there in a little bit," he added.
Frank hung up and returned to Joe's room. "Con wants me to meet him at the morgue," he told Joe and Chet. "One of the models turned up dead." Joe started to get up but Frank shook his head.
Joe pulled the sheet back up with a flourish and a frown. He gave Frank a puzzled look and Frank knew Joe was thinking the same thing he had when Con had requested their presence at the morgue. "Chet, would you stay here until I get back and turn the alarm on when I leave?"
"Okay, what's going on?" Joe demanded.
"I'm not sure," Frank admitted. "But Con sounded spooked."
"Con Riley?" Joe gasped in surprise. He had known the man for years and nothing had ever phased him.
Frank nodded. "He suggested, none to subtly, I might add, that you not be left alone."
"You will tell me what this is all about when you get back?" Joe prodded.
"Of course," Frank replied in annoyance. "Don't I always?"
"No," Joe answered. "Usually, if it's something bad and it concerns me, you just try and protect me without letting me know."
"I don't do that!" Frank denied, his eyes wide in feigned innocence.
"Yes, you do," Joe assured him. Frank looked at Chet who nodded in agreement.
"All right," Frank relented. "I'll tell you everything when I get back. BUT!" he stressed the word. "Stay in bed."
Joe gave Frank a sharp salute, wincing a little bit at the movement. Frank picked up Joe's tray and carried it downstairs to the kitchen with Chet at his heels. "Don't let him up and don't answer the door unless it's someone you know," Frank cautioned Chet before he left.
Chet shut the door behind Frank and flipped on the alarm that would sound at the Cohen Security Agency and be relayed to the Bayport PD if it were to go off. Grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl, he headed back upstairs.
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Frank arrived at the morgue in a little under twenty-five minutes. It was a two story brick building with reserved parking in the front so Frank drove to the back and parked near the grass. He got out and walked to the one door visible that did not advertise "authorized personnel only," and entered.
Con was waiting for him just inside the entryway. His brown eyes were drawn together and his usual cheery smile was absent. He looked at Frank as he came towards him with an unchanging expression.
"I'm here," Frank said. "Now will you tell me why you're all bent out of shape?"
"Come with me," Con replied, his expression softening although the wrinkles never left his forehead. He led Frank down the corridor to two flights of stairs. One going up and the other down into the basement. Frank knew the rooms below were for deaths caused by suspected pathogens while the rooms upstairs were for deaths due to crimes. The floor he was on now was used exclusively for offices.
Frank followed Con upstairs and down the corridor to the third room on the left. Con reached for the knob but stopped and turned to look at Frank before opening the door. "Brace yourself," he said, causing Frank's stomach to tighten even more.
Con turned the knob and they went inside. One of the two people in the room came over to them. "Benatar," Con said. The man led them over to the wall and reached for a handle and out slid a covered corpse. He unzipped the body bag to reveal the person within.
Frank's eyes widened in horror as a small gasp escaped him. The body was completely covered in a multitude of nicks; the face revealing the most damage. The boy's head had been shaved and his open eyes were solid black.
"Paint," said the man, seeing Frank's eyes looking at the corpse's. "A razor caused the nicks, although each nick was inflicted at a separate time."
"How long ago did he die?" Frank asked; wondering how long the boy had suffered.
"The estimated time of death is sometime between eight p.m. last night and eight a.m. this morning," was the answer.
"Where was he found?" Frank asked, tearing his gaze away from Benatar's body and looking at Con.
"In a shallow grave just outside of the graveyard off Fillman Road," Con answered. "We think he had been there since sometime yesterday morning.
"He was tortured and then buried alive?" Frank demanded, shaking his head slightly. They had had no clue they were dealing with a madman.
"Want to tell me about your case?" Con requested, although his tone left Frank in little doubt he had no choice.
Frank took one last look at the body of Jeff Benatar, then nodded. He followed Con out of the room wondering how he was going to make Joe to quit.