Author's Note: Finally Chapter 4 is complete. Hey guys thnx for the reviews, I love em, please keep em comin'

Rennie51: weee, thank you, and glad your still wondering on where this is going, ive been actually going kind of slow, and hopefully i will be able to pick up the speed shortly, within the next couple o chapters

gh2005: Im working as fast as I can on the updates, glad you like it, thank you for reading

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Chapter 4: The Private Investigator

James found himself once again in his office, at his desk, scanning over something. This time being it a phone book, the yellow pages to be exact. He was taking House's idea, and looking for a private investigator that would help.

P.I. Gary Hansen...
P.I. Shawn Jackson...
P.I. Robert Johnson...
P.I. Jason Philips...

What's the difference between them? James thought to himself, sifting through the list of names. He stared at them for awhile longer before trying one.

Just start from the top... He continued to think to himself grabbing the phone off the holder and dialed the number of first one. P.I. Gary Hansen.

Busy.

James hung up, sighing, moving onto the next one. P.I. Shawn Jackson.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

On the third ring someone answered. "P.I. Shawn Jackson's office. How may I help you?" A female answered. His secretary.

"Ah. Yes, I...I'd like to meet with Mr. Jackson." James was really unsure on how to go about this.

"Okay, when would you like to meet with him?" The secretary asked.

"When's his next opening?" James asked.

"He can meet with you...in an hour?" The secretary asked partically, to make sure it was okay with James.

"Yea, that sounds good. Thank you" James was polite.

"Okay What is your name sir?" The secretary asked next.

"James Wilson" He answered back.

"Okay I have you down for that appointment." The secretary hung up the phone, as did James.

He smiled as he grabbed a piece of paper next to him, and quickly wrote down the address under the name and number in the phone book. Luckily he knew exactly where this place was, he could do this over his lunch break, and no one would suspect a thing.

Hour later...

"Mr. Wilson, He will see you now" The secretary notified him from her desk. He slowly stood up from the old worn in couch he had taken a seat in a few minutes ago, as well as grabbing a folder he had brought with him.

"Thank you" He nodded to her, smiling weakly, as he moved past her desk opening the door into the office.

"Hello Mr. Jackson" James said in greeting moving towards the desk, on which the otherside was an older fellow. He was tall, and his hair was short and light gray. He had black framed glasses on making his soft blue eyes more evident. He looked as though he had seen many things, that have aged him beyond his years.

"Please call me, Shawn. And you are?" His voice was deep, commanding authority but at the same time soft, gentle. He held his hand out to shake James's.

"O...ah sorry, I am James Wilson" James introduced himself, shifting the folder in his hand to the other and taking hold of the elder man's hand, and shook firmly as did the participant.(sp?)

"Well, James, What brings you to my office?" Shawn went straight to first name relations.

"I don't know how this works, my friend suggested a private investigator. See I want to find my brother." James explained, setting the folder down on Shawn's desk, sliding it over to him.

"Well you came to the right place. If he is within the city, I will find him easily. " Shawn spoke with confidence.

"I don't even know if he's alive or not. Here's the most recent photos I have of him" James said, flipping the folder open for Shawn.

"What is his name?" Shawn asked as he examined the photos in the folder.

"Charles. He would be about 29 now." James stated.

"Okay, I'll do what I can. Leave your number with my secretary and I'll give you a jingle when I have something. Alright?" Shawn said, glancing up to him.

"Sounds good." James said, actually excited about this, he had truely wanted to see what his brother was up too, and now he could. This private investigator seemed to be good.