J.M.J.

Author's note: Thank you for continuing to read! Thank you especially to ErinJordan, Candylou, MargaretA66, max2013, caseykam, and angelicalkiss for your reviews on the previous chapter! Enjoy and God bless!

Chapter XVI

"Come on, kid. Wake up."

Innocuous as they were, the words aggravated Phil as he slowly woke up. Perhaps it was the voice. Someone was gently slapping his cheeks. Yes, it was definitely the voice. It belonged to someone he didn't like and didn't trust. It was dark and Phil couldn't see whoever was kneeling over him.

"Are you sure he's not dead?" a whimpering voice asked from somewhere in the darkness.

"I told you to shut up," the other snapped at him. "If you're so worried about him dying, maybe you shouldn't have led him into this trap."

Trap. The word seemed to bring back memories of what had happened. Black Rose. Phil stirred as a preliminary to sitting up, but even that was too much and it elicited a groan from him.

"See that?" the first voice said. It was Jazz. Phil remembered now. Besides, it wasn't as dark as he had thought at first. Dim, certainly, but not pitch dark. "He's not dead," Jazz went on.

"Where are they?" Phil asked. The words came out more strained than he expected, but they were obviously audible.

"Gone," Jazz informed him. "They delivered their message and lit out. Can you sit up?"

Rather than wait for Phil to attempt it himself, Jazz grabbed him by the shoulder and dragged him into a sitting position. Waves of pain radiated through so many parts of Phil's body that he wasn't sure where they all were. The dimly lit room, with Shaun skulking in one corner, danced and whirled in front of his eyes and he felt sick. He shut his eyes and prayed that Jazz would let him lie down again.

Jazz tapped him on the cheek again. "Look at me."

Phil opened one eye slightly and saw that Jazz had his free hand a few inches away from his face.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" Jazz asked.

Phil tried to focus on the fingers, but it only made him feel worse. "Maybe if you'd hold them still, I could tell you."

Jazz sighed. "Looks like you've got a concussion for sure. Now I've got to haul you to the hospital and there'll be all kinds of questions. You can't tell them what really happened, okay? Just let me do all the talking."

"Why?" Phil asked.

"Because if you do, those creeps are going to come back and kill all of us," Shaun spoke up, his tone still whiny. "You can't. You won't, will you?"

Phil wished he could glare at Shaun right now, but he was too miserable to put that much effort into anything. In fact, he felt as if he had used up every shred of energy he had. Unconsciousness beckoned to him once again with the promise of relief. Suddenly, he slumped against Jazz and all the world drifted away again.

HBHBHBHBHB

It was close to one in the morning when Frank and Callie were both roused from a deep sleep by the sound of Frank's phone ringing. Frank's first reaction was annoyance, but that only lasted a second until he had woken up more fully. Calls in the middle of the night were seldom good news.

"Who is it?" Callie asked, feeling the same seize of apprehension that Frank did.

Frank looked at the screen. "Phil?" At the same moment, he swiped the screen to answer it so that almost in the same breath, he was saying, "Hello?"

"I was afraid you wouldn't answer," Phil's voice replied. He sounded weak.

"It's the middle of the night," Frank pointed out. "What's going on? Are you okay?"

"I'm in the hospital."

Frank sat up straight at that. "What? What for?"

"Frank, Black Rose was here. They're the ones who killed Darcy."

"How do you know that?"

Phil tried to recount what had happened, but it wasn't very clear. After a little while, someone else took the phone and a female voice said, "Hi, this is Jenna Ridgeley. Between Phil's concussion and the painkillers they have him on, he's a little confused right at the moment."

"What's going on?" Frank asked again.

"I don't know, exactly," Jenna admitted. "I wasn't there. As far as I understand it, Black Rose threatened Shaun so he would lure Phil into a trap for them. They got him into the club where Darcy used to work, told him to stop looking into Darcy's murder, and beat him up. The nightclub owner brought him to the hospital. I guess he didn't want to say what had happened, but Phil was able to say enough that the hospital called the police. Captain Gomez has been working getting to the bottom of what happened ever since."

"You're sure it was Black Rose?"

"No, but everyone seems to think it was. I've only gotten the story in bits and pieces, but Phil wanted to call you and tell you what happened."

"Okay. What about Shaun? He must know more."

"I don't know where he is. He didn't come to the hospital. Gomez has people out trying to find him."

"You're sure he was threatened and wasn't helping willingly?"

"I'm not sure of anything. Phil hasn't been able to give a very clear account of what happened and Jazz—the nightclub owner—won't say anything except that he's just an innocent bystander. I don't know what to think."

"I'm sure not." Frank ran a hand through his hair. "How is Phil?"

"He has a concussion and some broken ribs and a lot of bruises. So far, they don't think there's any internal damage, but it's hard to say, so they're keeping him here for a day or two for observation. I think he'll be okay."

"All right. Give me your phone number so I can call you."

Jenna gave it and Frank quickly entered it into his phone. He warned her to be careful and said he'd call her back in a little while. Then he ended the call with a long sigh. He suddenly felt very old and very tired.

"Frank." Callie scooted closer to him and laid her head on his shoulder. She had heard the whole conversation, even what Phil and Jenna had said.. "When is this going to stop? It's like a nightmare."

Frank swallowed hard. "I wish it was just a nightmare."

"You're not going to go back there again, are you? To California?"

Frank thought for a few moments and then shook his head. "No. I don't know. I don't think I can. This could be a ploy to get some of us to go out there so we'll all be more vulnerable. Or maybe it's not. I just don't know." Frank put his face in his hands.

They sat there in silence for a few minutes, praying that somehow, this was all a mistake, that it hadn't happened, that it would all just go away.

Then Frank shook himself. "I'd better call Dad."

He started to reach for his phone again, but he stopped when Callie tightened her grip on his arm.

"What are we thinking?" she said softly. "You and I chose this sort of life, but our baby didn't ask for it. It isn't fair."

Frank paused. "No, but by the time our baby is born, this will all be over. It can't go on another seven months."

"This whole thing, maybe," Callie admitted, "but there will be other cases, other times like this. What about then?"

"I'm worried, too," Frank conceded. "Scared to death might be a better way to put it. But our baby isn't a mistake. No matter what happens. The only mistake is that maybe I haven't done everything I could to keep you and the baby safe."

"But what can you do, besides give up detective work altogether? You basically already have. You're a patrol officer, not a detective, and you only help your dad out now and then on cases. It hasn't changed anything. And look at Joe. He tried to give it all up, cut ties, everything, and look where it got him. He nearly got killed and Tony did get killed and…and it's never going to end, no matter what we do. How can we stop something like Black Rose?"

"We'll find a way," Frank promised.

HBHBHBHBHB

Joe was staring at the dark ceiling of a hotel room in Philadelphia when his phone rang. It startled him, but when he looked to see who was calling, a sense of dread clouded over him. It was Frank. There was no way Frank would be calling in the middle of the night unless something serious had happened.

"Frank, what is it?" he demanded as he accepted the call, not bothering with the standard amenities.

"It's Phil. He's in the hospital. He's going to be okay, but it sounds like he's in rough shape."

"Black Rose?" Joe asked, tight-lipped.

"Probably." Frank repeated what had been explained to him.

Joe listened without interrupting and even when Frank had finished, he didn't ask any questions. He knew his brother had told him everything he knew. He sank back into his bed. "Frank, I can't do this."

"He's going to be okay," Frank hastened to assure him.

"This time, maybe, but where's this going to stop? If they want to come after us, all right, but why can't they leave our friends out of it?"

"People like that don't play by any rules. But I think you've just about hit it. I think this was a way to get me and maybe you to go back to California and split us up. I talked to Dad already and he thinks so, too."

"So we're not going to do anything about it?" Joe demanded.

"We're not going to take their bait, if that's what you mean. But we're going to do something about it. Dad's going to get Jack Wayne to fly out there. As soon as Phil's released from the hospital, Jack's going to fly him back to Bayport. Jenna, too, if she wants to come. Since she's gotten involved in all this, I think it would be a good idea. We might be able to protect them here, but we definitely won't out there. The other one they might try to harm is Shaun. We need you to call him and try to convince him to go to the police with everything he knows."

"Why me?"

"He knows you and he might listen to you," Frank reasoned. "In fact, you're the only one I can think of that he might listen to. I'd go ahead and call him now. I doubt he's asleep."

"Unless he decided to try to drown his guilt in a bottle," Joe replied. "All right. I'll try it. I'm not expecting much, though."

Joe hung up and next placed a call to Shaun. The phone rang a couple of times and then stopped. The call had been refused. Quickly, Joe tapped out a text telling Shaun to pick up his phone. Then he tried calling again. It rang a few times, but then it stopped again. The call had been refused again. Apparently, Shaun was near his phone and simply wasn't answering it.

Joe let out a long breath and then texted Frank to give him that news. Then he got up, rushed into the hall, and knocked on Sam's door. There was a pause of about two minutes before the door opened a crack and Sam looked out.

"What are you doing, Joe?" Sam asked. "You're going to wake up half the hotel."

"I know, but something's happened," Joe told him.

Sam ushered him inside. Joe quickly explained everything.

"All right," Sam said when Joe had finished the explanation. "There's not going to be much we can do tonight. You can keep trying to call Shaun, but that's about all."

"Frank thinks this might be a ploy to get some of us to go to California, so we'll be easier to get at," Joe pointed out.

"He could be right. I don't think it's in our best interest to stay separated," Sam said. "We're not going to get any more sleep tonight, anyway. What do you say to heading back to Bayport now?"

"It would mean traveling in the dark," Joe pointed out, "but I don't think anyone would expect it. It would be hard for them to set a trap that way. Let's do it."

Neither one of them had unpacked much, so it took less than a quarter of an hour to get their things out of their rooms and into Sam's car. They left the key cards in the rooms rather than formally checking out. That would hopefully trip up anyone who might try getting information about them through the desk clerks.

For the first hour or so of the trip, they were both silent and tense. Sam was continually glancing in the rearview mirror and trying to decide whether each pair of headlights behind them belonged to someone who merely happened to be going the same way or someone who was following them. Whenever Joe wasn't attempting to call or text Shaun, he was looking over his shoulder for the same purpose.

As time went on, they determined that none of the headlights could be following them. None of them had stayed behind long enough for that to make sense. That made them relax a bit. Perhaps Black Rose didn't realize that they had left Philadelphia, or at least, not in time to start following them.

Eventually, Joe called his dad to tell him that they were headed back and when they should arrive in Bayport. By the time they were about an hour out, the drive had been uneventful. Joe still hadn't managed to get Shaun on the phone, and now Shaun's phone appeared to be turned off, as it went straight to voicemail. Dawn had not yet begun to lighten the sky.

Sam glanced at the fuel gauge as they were passing through a town called Baitesville. "We're going to have to stop for gas. I don't think we can make it to Bayport on what's left."

A few minutes later, he spotted a gas station with a convenience store connected to it and stopped. While Sam got out and began pumping the gas, Joe also got out of the car.

"I'm going to go get some coffee," he said. "You want some?"

"Sure." Sam stifled a yawn behind his hand. "Might need some."

"I can drive the rest of the way," Joe offered. "I don't think it'll do any good to keep calling Shaun."

"That's fine by me."

No one else was at the gas station or in the parking lot beside it. There was a light on inside the twenty-four-hour convenience store, but it didn't look like there were any other customers. The cashier at the counter nodded at Joe and mumbled a greeting. Joe headed for the coffee makers.

He had just taken a cup from the dispenser when there was a loud crash from outside that made him jump. He rushed to the window and saw that another car had barreled into the gas station and rear-ended Sam's car. Joe was instantly suspicious.

The cashier, obviously, had heard the crash, too, and was getting up to investigate. Joe held out his hand in a gesture for him to stop.

"Get down and call the police," Joe warned him.

The young man looked at him in confusion. "I can see calling the cops, but why do I have to get down? You think they're going to ram their car into the store or something?"

"Just…" Joe started to say, but he was interrupted by the sound of a gunshot.

The cashier gave a cry of alarm and ducked behind the counter. Joe knew that there might be some wisdom in doing something of the sort himself, but if these people were after him and Sam, it wouldn't do much good to hide from them. That was about all the farther he allowed logic to guide him before he ran outside.

The other car was backing up. As it did, Joe could see a man lying on the ground in the overhead lights of the gas station. He realized in horror that the car was lining up to run over him.

"Sam!" Joe shouted, running forward.

Several things happened all at once so that the memory of them later was jumbled. Joe saw Sam struggling to get up. It looked like he had one arm injured. At the same moment, the car changed course. Instead of hitting Sam, it turned toward Joe. Joe just barely managed to jump back out of the way. He didn't manage to dodge far enough. The front bumper of the car grazed his hip and sent him reeling to the ground.

Someone jumped out of the car, aiming a gun at Joe, who was slightly dazed as he tried to pick himself up. He had just enough wits about him to hear the gun being cocked. Then there was another shot, and Joe was a bit surprised to realize a moment later that he wasn't the one who had been shot. The person with the gun was the one who howled in pain and slapped his free hand over his shoulder. Joe turned and saw that it was Sam who had fired that shot.

The assailant must not have been injured badly, because he began shooting back, forcing Sam to take cover behind his car. Joe lunged toward the man's feet, knocking him off-balance. Joe made a grab for his gun, but he was checked by someone grabbing the back of his collar. The muzzle of a gun was pressed into the back of his neck. A police siren came closer.

"Let's get out of here," the person who had grabbed Joe said, and Joe realized that it was a woman with a familiar voice, although in the heat of the moment, he didn't make the connection of who it was.

She and her companion dragged Joe into the car and sped away.