Walter pulled the blanket tight around him as he leaned against a tree. Through the trees, he saw the flickering light from the fires the Mounties transporting Charlie and Edgar had lit. At least Charlie and Edgar were probably warm and had been fed. Walter felt the cold of the night and the hunger pang in his stomach. Neither was unfamiliar. He knew he would survive it this time just like he had all the other times he had experienced it.

What he wasn't sure was if he would survive approaching the Mounties to turn himself in. There were five of them and they had two prisoners. They would be on high alert. Perhaps even a little jumpy themselves, especially at night. Walter had caught some of their conversation. They knew there was another member of the gang out there somewhere. Randy had attempted to shoot them, and got himself shot in the process. Would they expect the missing member of the gang to try to free the other two?

Walter was not sure, though even if he wanted to, he knew he could not do anything for Charlie. Not alone and especially not against five Mounties.

If he were honest with himself, part of him was relieved that this had happened. Walter knew what they were doing was wrong. He knew Charlie felt this was the only way he could provide for the both of them, but Walter often wondered if it really was. Perhaps it was just the only way his brother knew? Perhaps it had simply been the easiest.

Whatever his brother had thought, it still did not make what they did right.

Walter knew he could not survive out on his own. He needed Charlie. The prospect of being in jail did not scare Walter. What did scare him, was being shot. It did not matter if the person firing the bullet was intending to shoot you or not, chances were, you were still going to die and it would not necessarily be a quick and painless death. He had seen the pain on his mother's face as the life had drained out of her in front of him. That was the expression he often saw in his dreams.

It was a pain that Walter did not want to feel.

Walter stared into the night, unsure of what to do. He simply wanted to be with Charlie even if that meant being in jail. He just did not want to get hurt, or worse, getting to his brother.

Words spoken by the last Mountie they had held captive came back to him.

"You don't have to do this, Walter. From what I gather, you are not involved in the actual robberies, even if you are an accessory to kidnaping. If you start cooperating, I can help you out. Ask the judge for leniency and when you are old enough to be on your own, you can start over."

Though he had dismissed the Mountie's offer of help at the time, those words had remained with him. He had often heard the Mountie's voice in his head at night as he waited for sleep to claim him. As he heard them now, Walter wondered if it was too later. Would the Mountie still be willing to help him? Was it too late? Could he find his way back to Brookfield without being discovered? He knew from the conversation he had overheard between the Mounties that they were taking Charlie and Edgar back to Brookfield. Walter worried that if one of the Mountie's spotted him following them that they might think he was planning something and simply shoot him on sight.

However, right then, he had no better idea than to follow the group. If he could find that Mountie who had offered him help, Walter felt sure that he would not shoot him and ask questions later.

On a Saturday afternoon, Billy sat by the tree line with his sketch book in his lap and his father's sketchbook opened to a page beside him. Pencils, varying from black to light grey, lay on the grass in front of him. Billy had found a countryside picture in his father's sketchbook and using it as reference for the shading techniques. Billy was trying to draw his surroundings. Somehow he was finding the tasks of using just black and grey more daunting than color.

Not far away, Christian and Vincent were idly tossing a baseball back and forth while they watched the men working on the house. All of them were keeping their distance from the work area like they had been told. Although, while Christian and Vincent would sometimes venture near to ask the men working questions when the men took breaks, Billy was more than content to keep his distance. Though he had not seen any of the workers go inside the house, though Miss Eleanor, Miss Grace or his mom often brought out refreshments, Billy still recalled seeing the handyman at his last orphanage stealing money. He recalled being pushed and the pain in his wrist. He remembered how the injury was dismissed.

As if the memories conjured up the pain, Billy felt an ache in his left wrist. It rarely bothered him any more though Miss Maggie still did a massage therapy with him twice a week. Putting down his pencil, Billy rubbed his left wrist with his right. Giving that the ache came out of the blue, Billy wondered if he was simply imagining it this time.

After a few minutes, Billy picked up his pencil and went back to trying to make the branches of the trees stand out from one another.

"That is quite good," an unfamiliar male voice commented.

Billy jumped, startled by the sound. Looking up, he saw one of the workers standing near him, looking down at the sketchbook.

"I did not mean to startle you," the man said kindly.

"Am I in the way?" Billy asked, his heart beating faster. " I thought I was far enough away from the construction here," he added, reaching to gather up his pencils.

"You're fine," the man said. "You have been working so intently for a while now, and I was just curious to see what you were working on. I can leave you be."

The man started to turn away.

Billy picked up the sketchbook. "Would you like a closer look?" he asked tentatively, holding the sketchbook out to the man.

The man looked back at him, a kind smile on his face. Not advancing any closer, he knelt down as he reached for the sketchbook.

"I am more use to using color, but my dad use to do all his sketches in shades of black and grey," Billy explained. "I wanted to give it a try."

"Well, I think you are doing a wonderful job,"the man told him, holding the sketchbook back out to him. "You are Billy, right?"

Billy nodded in reply, surprised the man knew his name. The handy man at the orphanage certainly had not bothered learning any of their names.

"I am Curt. I have a son myself. He is with his mother back in Hope Valley."

"I visited Hope Valley," Billy ventured. "I stayed with the Grants."

Curt nodded. "Wonderful people," he commented. He pointed his thumb back over his shoulder. "I should probably go get the men back to work. It was nice meeting you, Billy."

Billy nodded in reply. He wasn't quite sure he could honestly say that it was nice meeting the man. Terrifying would be how he would describe it, but he did not think that would be polite. The man certainly had not done or said anything to warrant him not being polite to him.

"Bye, sir," Billy managed to say as Curt got to his feet.

Billy watched the man as he headed back to the work area. If all the workers were like Curt then perhaps having the men in the yard was not so bad. Just the same, Billy knew he would not be venturing to ask them any questions like Christian and Vincent did.

Gabriel leaned forward in the chair, struggling to breathe. He could hear Patrick's voice, though it sounded distant, telling him to take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Deep breath? Who was he kidding? The way he felt right then, any kind of breath was a struggle. He still felt like the strap was around his arms though as he could lift his arms without resistance he knew that was not the case. Not that Patrick would do that to him. So far, Patrick had not even secured the strap around his arms, the panic attack coming on almost as soon as the older man pulled the strap together.

Eventually, the tightness in his chest eased. Gabriel became aware of his surroundings, namely his office. They had placed one of the chairs in the middle of the room. They had closed blinds and locked the door to protect against interruptions and curious onlookers. The lamp sitting on the desk was the only source of light.

Gabriel let out a sigh as he slumped back against the chair. "I feel like we are getting nowhere," he commented.

"These things can take time," Patrick commented moving away from the chair Gabriel was sitting in to lean against the bars of the jail cell. "Besides you are making progress, slow though it may be."

Gabriel looked over at his former training officer to see Patrick absently rubbing his jaw. With the lamp to Patrick's right, the light revealed the bruise left there when Gabriel's arm had connected with the man's jaw the first time Patrick had put the strap around Gabriel's upper arm. Though he could not remember details, Gabriel did remember feeling a surge of panic. He remembered hearing Charlie's voice telling him he was outnumbered. Patrick said he had tried to talk to him but Gabriel could not remember hearing his friend's voice. What he did remember was coming out of his panicked stated breathing heavily and huddled by the wall. Patrick had backed off though his training officer had been intently watching him from a short distance away when Gabriel had finally met his gaze.

"I am sorry I hit you," Gabriel told Patrick not for the first time. He had felt bad when Patrick had told him he had lashed out at him. Later, talking to Lillian on the porch after the boys had gone to bed, Gabriel remembered breaking into tears as he admitting to fearing having a violent reaction around her, Grace, Eleanor or the children. He remembered suggesting that he not stay with them for a while just in case. Lillian would not hear of it, assuring him that they would be careful in their interactions with him.

"Will you stop apologizing?" Patrick told him. "I have seen enough men waking up from nightmares or going through a panic attack that I knew that kind of reaction was possible. I should have ducked quicker."

Gabe opened his mouth and Patrick pointed a finger at him.

"No wise cracks about me getting old," Patrick warned him.

"I was thinking more along the lines of pushing papers around a desk has slowed your reaction times," Gabe told him.

Patrick chuckled. "There might be some truth to that," the man admitted. He moved from where he was standing and walked toward the window. "I think we'll leave it at that today. Judge Avery should be here shortly and Davor should be here with the two prisoners either tonight or early tomorrow, depending on how much ground they managed to cover," he commented as he put the blind up.

Gabriel nodded, getting to his feet. He felt a bit shaky still, though part of him wanted to insist that they continue but he knew that this was not a process they could rush through.

"Any more word from Serres on the search for the last gang member?" Gabriel asked, picking up the chair and moving toward the desk with it. With light coming through the window now, Gabriel put out the lamp as Patrick unlocked the door.

"Just that they had found a run down shack that had clearly been used by shelter by somebody about five miles outside the town," Patrick replied, turning back toward the desk where Gabriel had sat down in his chair facing Patrick. "There was no indication of who was using it or what direction they may have gone. They are going to keep watch to see if someone comes back tonight. If no one shows up, I told them to call off the search. It is the youngest member of the gang who is still missing, and from all accounts, he seems to the least dangerous."

"Walter," Gabriel said quietly, the boy's eyes coming to his mind. There had been uncertainty and regret in those eyes even as the boy was determined to stay loyal to his older brother. How would the boy do on his own?

"You said the gang's leader was this guy's brother?" Patrick inquired as he walked toward the desk to the chair Gabriel had placed back in front of the desk.

"Yes," Gabriel said. "I got the sense that his loyalty to his brother who had been looking out for him since their mom had died was the only thing making him go along with the gang's actions. He told me their mom was accidently killed when a Mountie fired back at a criminal that shot at him. The kid has been traumatized and his older brother is the only family he has. He said he was sixteen."

Patrick nodded. "Perhaps I'll tell Serres and the others to split up and inquire in the surrounding towns about anyone seeing a teenager on his own. If he was cornered, do you think he would fight back?"

Gabriel paused in answering it. He searched through his memories of the young man, trying to remember his actions and demeanor. He tried to visualize the young man in his mind and though Walter had used the bandana to disguise his face like the others, there had been one distinct difference between Walter and the others.

"I do not recall ever seeing Walter with a gun," Gabriel told Patrick.

"Are you sure?"

Gabriel nodded. "Walter is the one I probably got the best look at as he spent that time before leaving the cabin making sure I got food and water. He was not wearing the gun then nor did he put one on when he left with the other gang member."

"I will be right back," Patrick said getting to his feet. "I want to get that message out to Serres and I am also going to put out that the last gang member is believed to be unarmed. I would hate for someone, a Mountie or a concerned citizen, to overreact and shoot an unarmed teenager no matter what crimes he is guilty of."

Gabriel nodded as he leaned back in his chair. Part of him had hoped Walter would be one of the two in custody though he knew that had been unlikely. Though he had his brother with them, and involved in the crimes, Charlie had also done what he could to protect his little brother. No matter what reason those other three had been in town for, it made sense that Charlie would not have brought Walter into town with them, just like when the committed the robberies.

Gabriel found himself saying a prayer that Walter would be okay. The boy had things to answer for, but Gabriel did not want anything to happen to him.

Bill came into town about mid afternoon. While Patrick and Gabriel made rounds, Bill got himself settled at Joe's. With the men from the construction crew being in town, the few free rooms Ronnie had were already booked. The store owner had opened up his home to the visiting judge, though he could only offer him a cot in the sitting room to sleep in. Having slept under the stars more times then he could count, Bill assured the man he would be fine.

After getting settled, Bill returned to the Mounted Police office. Patrick and Gabriel returned from town to find the judge giving instructions to Ruth about inquiries he needed sent to gather the information on the gang's earlier crimes.

"Not wasting time I see," Patrick commented as Ruth left the office.

"I never do," Bill informed the Super Intendant gruffly. His tone softened a little as he addressed Gabriel. "How are you holding up?" Bill asked, seeing the weariness in the Mountie's features.

"I won't insult you by trying to claim any of this has been easy, but I am getting the support I need professionally and at home," Gabriel told him.

"Good," Bill replied. "Giving the reports I have managed to get a hold of, I think you and the other law officers that were held are going to be the best source of identification of these men. Eyewitness reports from the actual crimes seem to be sketchy which given how quick things took place is not surprising really. So unless I can find away to get these guys to talk and give themselves away, it could be the only ones able to put these guys at the scene of the crime are the ones they held. You all spent more time with them and you have been trained in observation skills that our victims of the robberies do not have."

Randy's steely, icy eyes came to mind. Gabriel felt a shiver run up his spine. He knew he would recognize those eyes anywhere.

Gabriel gave Bill a nod even as Patrick lay a gentle hand on his shoulder.

The three men sat around the desk discussing the case, waiting to see if the Mounties transporting the criminals arrived. When five thirty arrived with no signs of the other Mounties, Gabriel invited Bill to join them for dinner. Patrick and Anne had already planned on eating with them and Anne had gone out to the orphanage to spend time with the other ladies during the day. Bill accepted the invitation and headed out to New Hope Orphanage.

After dinner, the three boys had retreated to the sitting room with the checker board. It had been discovered that Billy had never played the game before, and Vincent's words of coaching could be heard by the adults as they sat around the table with cups of coffee. A knock at the door interrupted the conversation.

Getting to his feet, Gabriel went to answer the door. He found Constable Davor standing on the front porch.

"Hello, Constable Kinslow," the man said, hat in his hand. "Sorry to disturb you, but we just got into town with the prisoners."

Gabriel nodded, stepping aside so Davor could step inside. "Let me just tell Lillian where I am going and I'll be right with you. I will get Super Intendant O'Reilly and Judge Avery as well."

Davor nodded in acknowledgment as he stepped inside.

A few minutes later, the three Mounties and Judge Avery were headed back into Brookfield. As they moved the two prisoners into the cell, Gabriel identified Charlie easily, having got a good look at the man several times during the ordeal. He was less sure of the second man, and assumed it was Edgar, having seen very little of the man. While Davor and a couple other Mounties handled putting the prisoners in the cell, Gabriel, Bill and Patrick returned to where two other Mounties had laid a blanket wrapped body on a stretcher. As one of the Mounties moved the blanket away from the corpse's face, Gabriel looked down. No one had bothered closing the man's eyes, and they stared up at them all. Even in death, those eyes had the icy, evil glint that haunted Gabe's nightmares.

"That is the one that went by Randy," Gabriel said, finding his voice. "I would know those eyes anywhere."

Bill nodded and placed a hand on Gabriel's shoulders.

"That is all that is needed tonight," Bill told him. "Head on home. O'Reilly and I can finish up here."

Gabriel nodded, not feeling up to arguing with Bill. Nor did he say anything when he heard Patrick quietly instruct Davor to walk home with him. The younger Mountie fell silently into step with him as he headed back home. Gabriel had thought he would feel relief knowing the men that had held him could no longer hurt anyone else. Instead, all he could see were those icy eyes staring back at him. More than anything, Gabriel just wanted to feel Lillian's arms around him and know he was safe.