J.M.J.

Author's note: Thank you for continuing to read! Thank you especially to angelicalkiss, ErinJordan, caseykam, max2013, and Candylou for your reviews on the previous chapter! Sorry for a delay in posting—it turned out that I had to completely change this chapter, so I wrote it from scratch. Hopefully there won't be too many chapters that will need such thorough revision. Thank you again! God bless!

Chapter XII

"This is fantastic!" Sam said as Fenton finished reading the letter. "Rudger's confession. Who would have thought after all these years that we would get a confession from him?"

Fenton looked at Joe as he handed the copies of the letter to Sam to read. Joe seemed to be processing what the letters had said. Undoubtedly, he was feeling some strong emotions from it all, but he didn't seem like he was going to lash out in any way. Fenton next looked to Frank, who was sitting on the edge of his seat, obviously deep in thought.

"It definitely tells us more about Black Rose than we knew before," Frank commented when he felt his father's eyes on him.

"But I don't see how it could help to stop Black Rose," Callie said. "He just explained a little of how they operate, not where to find or anything."

Fenton nodded slowly. "You're absolutely right. It's helpful, but we're still a long ways from being able to put a stop to this once and for all. We need to turn the originals over to Chief Collig right away. He can send them on to the proper government authorities."

"What about Darcy's letter?" Joe asked. "It's addressed to me."

"I think it should go, too," Fenton told him. "She did give some information about Black Rose in it that could be useful. Withholding it isn't going to help anyone."

Joe nodded slowly. "Yeah. You're right."

"So what's our next plan?" Sam asked. "We've got Lisa to safety, hopefully. We're not going to just sit around now and wait for something to happen, right?"

"Right," Fenton agreed. "One thing it's past time to do is to send someone to Philadelphia to talk to Belle Beretta. I understand Mario is still in a coma, but Belle might be able to give some information. Obviously, whoever goes shouldn't go alone."

Callie gently squeezed Frank's hand and gave him a pleading look, which he immediately understood. She didn't often ask for something that would interfere in her husband's work, either as a police officer or as a detective, but that was because she knew he would always agree. She didn't want to always be in his way. In this case, though, right now, she was making an exception.
"I can't go," Frank said. "It's going to be at least two days to get there and back, and I have work."

"That's not something I have to worry about anymore," Joe commented dryly. "I'll go."

"Are you sure?" Fenton asked.

Joe nodded. "If nothing else, I can help make sure someone who would be more use can be doing something else. I think I can handle just talking to Belle."

"I'll go with you," Sam volunteered. "What will you be doing in the meantime, Fenton?"

"I'll be keeping an eye on the Pritos. I know the police are also going to be doing that, but from what Darcy said in her letter and from what's been happening, it sounds like they're going to need all the protection they can get."

Up until now, Iola had kept silent. She had the least experience in solving crimes of anyone present, and so she didn't feel that she could add anything constructive to the conversation. Yet she hadn't just been sitting idly by. She had been observing everyone, trying to work out the pieces of the story that she hadn't heard yet. There was one thing that seemed perfectly obvious to her, however, which no one seemed to be talking about.

"She said that Tony was a target several years ago," Iola pointed out. "What if, when he was killed…"

"No," Frank cut her off, already seeing what she was asking. "She said that he was a target of Black Rose because of Lisa. Angelo wasn't with Black Rose anymore when he killed him."

Iola sighed. "There are too many different people involved in all of this. It's hard to keep them all straight."

Joe stood up. "How soon do you want to leave, Sam?"

Sam checked his watch. "It's too late to drive all the way today, and I don't think being on the road after dark is the greatest idea. We'll go in the morning."

"Okay. Then there's some things I want to take care of this afternoon," Joe said. "I'll see you all later."

Everyone watched him go. When the door had closed behind him, Fenton asked Frank and Sam to come into his private office to talk. That left Callie and Iola alone in the reception area.

Iola sighed and sank down in her chair. "Do you think this is ever going to end, Callie?"

"Everything ends, eventually," Callie said. "I would say the sooner, the better, but I don't know how it's going to end. I have the most horrible feeling it's not going to be a happy ending."

Iola shuddered. "I hope you're wrong. For you, at least. You still can have a happy ending."

"There's more going on with Joe than you maybe realize, Iola," Callie said, speaking as gently as she could. "I don't want to tell you what to do, but maybe it would be best if you let him be."

Iola turned away. "Maybe. Maybe I could leave him alone. At least you didn't say that I should move on, because that would be impossible."

HBHBHBHBHB

"What do you want to talk to us about, Dad?" Frank asked as he closed the door to his father's office.

"Joe," Fenton said simply while gesturing for the others to sit.

"I guessed as much," Sam replied. "I know you're both worried about him, and I can't blame you there, but I think he just needs time. He's been through a lot."

"I know," Fenton said. "I just want to make sure we're all on the same page about him. He's too smart to treat with kid gloves without him realizing and resenting it. We all need to try to treat him as normally as possible, while still keeping a special eye on him. He's convinced that he can't trust his own judgment. I don't want that to become a self-fulfilling prophecy."

Frank crossed his arms and looked at the floor. He didn't want to say what he was thinking. There was no way to say it the way he meant it. If he could have one wish, it would be that Joe could recover his confidence and his desire to work together as a team. Frank would even wish for that over having Black Rose gone. After all, if he and Joe were working together again, he would have a lot more confidence in their ability to take down the organization.

But there were no such things as wishing wells or wishing stars or genies in lamps. There was no way of fixing the many problems that had led to this—as far as they even could be fixed—without putting in a lot of work and a lot of time. In the meantime, reality had to be faced the way it was. Frank had to admit to himself that the reality was that his brother was hurt in ways Frank didn't fully understand and he didn't know how to help him.

"Frank?" Fenton said.

It pulled Frank out of his reverie and he had the impression that his father had said something to him that he had been too absorbed in his own thoughts to hear.

"What?"

"We're going to need to keep the peace between all of us," Fenton said. "Fighting amongst ourselves isn't going to help anything."

"I know," Frank replied, with a small shrug that was an attempt at hiding his feelings. "I'll try not to ride him about anything."

Fenton folded his arms and gave him a knowing look. "But what?"

Frank smiled slightly at the memories that question brought back. Try as he had to make his sentence sound like it ended with a period, his father could tell that he had left something off. It wasn't the first time that had happened. "I think you already know, Dad."

Fenton could practically hear the unasked question—Is it really a good idea to have Joe work on this in his current state? This is Black Rose we're dealing with, and everyone needs to be at the top of their game, for everyone else's sake, but especially for their own.

"I know," Fenton admitted, but he didn't try to answer the question. He was out of answers for questions like that.

HBHBHBHBHB

"I still think we should have come during open hours," Shaun said as he, Phil, and Jenna got out of the car parked in front of a club whose sign was emblazoned with the name Jazz's and the promise of entertainment that was far from family-friendly.

Phil rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Oh, come on, Shaun. Even you…" He stopped himself. "You know what, I'm not getting into that right now. We're here for information and that's all."

Shaun shrugged. "Our loss. Hey, maybe they're having rehearsals."

He darted toward the front door, which was locked. It was, after all, two in the afternoon. The club wouldn't be opening until evening.

"We're going to go around to the back and knock," Phil told him.

As Shaun hurried around to the back door, Phil and Jenna followed him more slowly.

"Why did we bring him along again?" Jenna whispered.

"I'm starting to wonder," Phil replied dryly. "But Darcy was his friend, too, and so was Tony. I guess he's got as much right to be investigating as we do."

"You really think that what happened to Darcy is related to what happened to Tony?" Jenna asked.

"I'll be very surprised if it isn't."

When they caught up to Shaun at the door, he still hadn't had any luck being let in. Phil frowned in mild frustration. He had debated with himself whether he should call and arrange a meeting or if he should try to take Jazz by surprise. He knew surprising the club owner would be difficult, but it seemed like it would be a better way to get information.

"What do we do now?" Jenna asked after standing there for about a minute.

At the same moment, the door swung inward. A balding man in his forties and little on the heavy side peered out at them.

"You again," he said, looking at Phil. "I thought I'd seen the last of you. I thought you didn't approve of my line of work."

"I don't have to approve of it to ask you some questions, Jazz," Phil replied. "You've heard about Darcy?"

Jazz stepped away from the door and let them in. "Yeah, I heard about her," he said as they came inside the dimly lit back room. "It's a real shame."

"Is it?" Phil couldn't resist asking.

"Sure it is. She was a nice kid. I know you think that my girls are only a commodity to me, but that couldn't be further from the truth." Jazz cast an appraising eye on Jenna. "If you're with him, you're probably not here to audition, but if you ever change your mind, I think you could do real well in this business."

Jenna blinked in surprise. "Uh, I prefer to work fully clothed, so that's going to be a pass."

Jazz shrugged. "Can't win 'em all. So, why are you here? If you're going to lecture me, you can go right back out again."

"No, I want to ask you about Darcy," Phil said. "When's the last time you heard from her?"

"I've heard from you more recently," Jazz replied. "It was before you and Angelo's brother came in that I last heard from her. Girls trying to get out of the business don't come back and talk to their old bosses."

"Because it's such a great line of work," Phil retorted. "Then when is the last time you heard about Darcy?"

"Hmm." Jazz pondered that question a few moments. "I would give you a smart aleck answer and say in the news this morning, but I know what you mean. Let's see. It must have been about two weeks ago. We were having a rehearsal, and Sophie—that's one of the girls—mentioned that she'd had somebody stop by her place and ask her about Darcy. You know, where she lives and that kind of thing. From the way she described him, it sounded just like Angelo Beretta. I told her to call the cops if he ever showed up again.

A chill ran down Phil's spine, but he knew better than to trust the man implicitly. "How can we get in touch with Sophie?"

Jazz held up a finger. "I don't give out contact information on my girls. Company rules. See? I do care about my girls. You want to see Sophie, you come to the club tonight."

"That's cute," Phil replied.

"I'd volunteer," Shaun spoke up.

Phil cast him an annoyed look. "I may need to talk to her. We'll have to figure that one out, then. What about Angelo? Have you heard from him lately?"

"Me, hear from Angelo? Nah."

"Okay. Then what about other people Darcy might have known. Could any of them be involved in her murder?"

Jazz shrugged. "Probably, but I don't know who they are. I let the girls mind their own business. Besides, Darcy quit two months ago. I've got no way of knowing who she's been spending time with lately."

"This doesn't seem very helpful," Jenna murmured to Phil, who nodded.

"I would think, if you care so much about your…employees, you'd want to give any information you've got that could help find Darcy's killer," Phil commented.

Jazz nodded. "Sure. I'd like to help you. Maybe I even could. But see, you're still just a kid. Let me give you some advice. It's good to care about other people, but don't care about them so much you're not looking out for yourself."

Phil narrowed his eyes slightly. "Has someone threatened you?"

Jazz chuckled and shook his head. "Another piece of advice: learn to take a hint."

HBHBHBHBHB

Axel was lying on the front porch with his head resting on his front legs when Joe drove up. As soon as Joe got out of the car, the dog raised his head and then bounded to greet him.

"Hey, there, Axel," Joe greeted him, attempting to scratch him behind the ears, but Axel wouldn't hold still long enough for that.

Aunt Gertrude must have also seen him pull in, as she opened the door and beckoned to him. "Don't just stand around outside. Come in and tell us what happened."

Joe was barely inside the door before his aunt was launching a barrage of questions at him, asking him if everything went according to plan and whether Lisa was all right and if Black Rose had been fooled by the ruse.

Laura came into the front hallway and met Joe's eyes. "Don't make him stand out here, Gertrude. Besides, maybe Joe has things he needs to do."

"Actually, I need to pack," Joe replied.

"Pack?" Aunt Gertrude repeated. "For what? You're not thinking of going back to California? Or maybe somewhere worse?"

Joe shook his head, smiling slightly. "Just overnight to Philadelphia. With Sam. We need to ask the Berettas some questions. We'll leave first thing tomorrow morning."

"What kind of an idea is that?" Aunt Gertrude retorted.

Any trace of a smile faded from Joe's face. "I think I can handle just talking to some old friends."

"I didn't mean that," Aunt Gertrude said. "I meant that you're going to drive, aren't you? It takes more than five hours to drive to Philadelphia from here. And there's supposed to be a vicious winter storm."

"Oh." A wave of embarrassment hit Joe for assuming the worst about his aunt's question.

Laura was the one to salvage the situation. "The storm isn't supposed to be for a few days. Joe and Sam will have plenty of time to drive there and back. Knowing you, you'll want plenty of food along, Joe. Why don't you start packing it, Gertrude? I noticed the lining is coming out of your winter coat, Joe. I'd better sew that up for you before you leave."

"You really don't have to, Mom," Joe told her. "And the same with the food, Aunt Gertrude."

"Oh, nonsense," Aunt Gertrude replied. "If we let you to pack up your own food, you'll take nothing but processed snack foods."

As she started toward the kitchen, Joe called after her, "Thanks. Oh, and the whole plan went like clockwork. Lisa's fine and she should be safe now, and Black Rose didn't put in an appearance all day."

Then he and Laura went upstairs, with Axel padding along behind them. Joe pulled a duffel bag out of his closet and started tossing in the clothes he would need for an overnight trip while Laura retrieved the winter coat in question.

"It really is just overnight, Mom," Joe pointed out. "It's not a big deal."

"I know," Laura admitted, looking up from the coat she was surveying. "I am wondering, though, why you're going with Sam."

Joe went back to tossing clothes into his bag. He was taking more than what he really needed for overnight, just in case. There was always the possibility of getting delayed somehow. "Frank has to work and Dad wants to keep an eye on the rest of the Pritos. That just leaves me and Sam."

"Sam and me," Laura said and then shook her head. "Sorry. Force of habit."

"It's okay," Joe assured her.

There was a brief pause and then Laura asked, "Are you sure you want to do this? I'm not asking if you think you can or should. I know you can handle it. But you've been so definite that, if you help on a case at all, you want to do it in the background."

"I know, and that really is what I'd rather do now, but there isn't a lot of choice. I can't do Frank's job for him, obviously, and I don't think Dad and Sam should go together. If Evangeline found out somehow, that might be very tempting for her. Besides that, I just want to get all this over with and get on with life."

"What are you going to do when all this is over?" Laura asked.

Joe shrugged. "I don't know. A lot depends on whether anyone would still want to hire me then and who would. I don't really know."

"Do you really think you can be happy, staying away from detective work?"

Joe looked up and toward the wall. "No," he admitted after a long silence. "I know I won't be. I already had a taste of it in California, so I know it. But maybe me being happy isn't as important as other people being safe."

"I wonder," Laura said musingly.

"About what?"

"Whether you couldn't help keep more people safe if you went back to detective work than you could possibly put in danger and whether, sometimes, the people that you would seemingly put in danger wouldn't be in even more trouble without someone like you to help them out."