J.M.J.

Author's note: Thank you for continuing to read! Thank you especially to Candylou, max2013, and ErinJordan for your reviews on the previous chapter! I'm going to be out of town for almost a week, so I'm not sure if I'll be able to update in that time. I'll give it a try, but I'll be a little surprised if I can make it. If not, I'll update when I get back! God bless!

Chapter XII

Callie leaned her head against Frank's chest. There was no place to sit, unless they sat on the floor like Joe was doing. Considering how many times someone almost tripped over him, it was probably a good idea to keep standing. Not that something as prosaic as getting tripped over really entered Callie's mind at this moment. Everything felt sort of hazy and Callie was finding it hard to care about anything right now. She felt like she was dreaming and she would wake up and none of this would matter, and no matter how many times she told herself that it was real and it did matter, she couldn't quite make herself believe that. So she closed her eyes and leaned against Frank, and the only feeling that came close to making it through the numbness was a dull gratitude that he was there.

There had only been two other times like this in Callie's life. The first had been when Iola had been injured in an explosion. She hadn't seen it, but at first, she hadn't been able to believe that it had actually happened and that it was as serious as she was told. She had felt then that it was all a misunderstanding; it couldn't really true.

The second time was when Joe had been shot and the shooter had gotten herself cornered by Callie and Frank and several of their other friends, with the police on their way. The shooter had realized there was no escape, and rather than answering for her crimes, she had shot herself. Callie had seen some violent movies before that, but it hadn't prepared her at all for what it was like in real life. The movies somehow missed the real horror while exaggerating the gore at the same time. Maybe the difference was that Callie knew the movies weren't real. When it was real, there was so much hanging on it that even that gory death had some element of…dignity? That wasn't quite the right word. Callie couldn't think right now. All she could see was that gruesome scene from several years earlier playing out in her mind. She shuddered as the gun seemed to blast in her ears.

"Cal, are you okay?" Frank asked her gently.

Callie wrapped her arms around him and then looked up into his brown eyes. She had forgotten where she was for the moment, but at least it was a comfort to find herself here instead of there. Then the image of Darcy hanging from the ceiling came back to her and all her relief vanished, making her only feel sick. "I don't know," she said. She felt like it came out as a whimper, and that only troubled her more. Something really was wrong with her. Things didn't usually get to her this badly.

"I think she's going to pull through," Frank said, obviously meaning Darcy. "I didn't at first, but I think she's going to be okay."

"Good."

Callie glanced at Joe, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor a few feet away. Phil was pacing back and forth, and Tony was talking to one of the police officers. The ambulance had already taken Darcy away, but the police were all over the place now, investigating. At least, they were trying to. There were so many neighbors trying to find out what was going on that a lot of the officers' efforts were going toward trying to sort out which neighbors actually knew anything useful and convincing the others to go on their way. There was only one detective who was interviewing the Hardys and their friends. That was who Tony was talking to right now. He had already questioned Frank, but not any of the others yet. He'd obviously picked the ones who seemed least shell-shocked to start out with. His name was Captain Gomez, the same one who had come to the scene when Joe had been attacked.

Callie tried to distract herself by looking around Darcy's apartment. It was nice, and Callie wondered what Darcy did to afford a place like this all to herself. It was decorated in muted colors, accented with natural wood tones. The furniture all looked new and plush, and the hangings on the walls depicted pastoral scenes. The dining table was next to a glass door onto a balcony. There was a table runner on it and a bouquet of white roses. That was the only thing that marred the effect of the place, as the roses had run out of water and wilted.

"Thank you," Callie heard Gomez saying to Tony.

The detective made a few final notes in a notebook and made his phone ready to start another recording. Then he looked over the three remaining witnesses, apparently trying to decide who to talk to next. Callie glanced at Joe and Phil again, and she saw that Joe had made eye contact with Gomez. He got up and went to the detective. Frank followed him, and Callie, of course, came, too.

"Mind if I go next?" he asked.

"Not at all." Gomez pressed the button to start recording again. "Would you state your name and contact information, please?"

"Joseph Hardy." Joe gave the address of the apartment and added, "I don't have a phone at the moment. Mine was destroyed."

Gomez nodded. "All right, Mr. Hardy." He glanced up at Frank and Callie. "If you don't mind, I'd like to speak to each of you separately."

Frank pursed his lips slightly. "I know. Joe, is that okay with you?"

Joe gave him a half-hearted crooked smile. "I don't need my hand held, Frank." Then the smile faded completely. "But, Captain Gomez, there is part of the story they're going to have to hear, and I'd rather just have to say it once, if that's all right with you."

Gomez considered that for a moment, watching Joe's face. "Okay. Just for that part of the story. The rest I want to hear privately."

"Fair enough." Joe turned and beckoned toward Tony and Phil. "Come on, guys. I really don't want to repeat this. I know you know what happened, Phil, but I'm not sure how much…"

"Mr. Hardy?" Gomez interrupted. "Just tell us what happened."

Joe paused again, looking at the ground a few yards away rather actually looking at anyone. "It's not like it's some big secret, really, it's just…So, anyway, I met Darcy for the first time about two years ago, the same as everyone else here. She was going out with Phil for a little while. I didn't know her that well. I don't think I've ever talked to her one-on-one, except for one time, now that I think of it." He put his hands behind his back and then brought them back up to fold them over his chest. It was ridiculous, he told himself, to be this nervous about telling this. "Anyway, we were working on a mystery. The details of that aren't that important, but if you want to hear about it, Captain, I can fill you in later."

"I'll decide after you finish this part of the story," Gomez told him.

Joe nodded. "Okay. So everybody was at our house. My parents' house, that is. I was nineteen then and still lived at home. This was back in Bayport, Massachusetts, by the way. Anyway, everybody was at our house. That would be Frank and Callie and Tony and Phil and Darcy and our friend, Biff—Allan Hooper—and then Tony's sister, Maria. I think that was everyone who was there. Anyhow, one way or another, everybody wound up going into other rooms, except Darcy and me. Phil had gone in the kitchen and I think everyone else was upstairs, or maybe they were outside. I don't remember for sure."

"Go on," Gomez prompted him when he paused again.

"Darcy and I were in the living room. There's a sofa and chairs and, you know, a normal living room. I was sitting on the sofa, doing some research on my laptop, and not paying much attention. Darcy sat down next to me—she had left the room, too, but then she came back and sat down next to me. I wasn't really paying much attention to her, but she seemed sort of annoyed about something. She tried to strike up a conversation, but I don't remember what. Then she asked me if I'd help her out with a problem. I said I would." Joe let out a long breath. He was suddenly feeling very warm and wishing he hadn't volunteered to tell this story. He told himself he hadn't volunteered, really; the police needed to know; it could have something to do with Darcy's actions today. There was no way around telling it, so he just needed to get it over with. "Next thing I knew, grabbed me and was kissing me. It only lasted a second or two, probably, before I pushed her off. She said something about wanting to make Phil jealous, but I told her to get out of the house and I hadn't seen her again until I ran into on the beach almost two weeks ago."

All the shame and dirtiness that he had felt at the time seemed to wash over him again, and he couldn't look anyone in the eye.

"I see," Gomez said. "Did you report this to the police in Bayport?"

"No."

"I'm not certain what the statute of limitations for sexual assault is in Massachusetts, but I'm sure it hasn't expired," Gomez went on. "If you'd like to file a report there, I can arrest Darcy when she's released from the hospital and we'll extradite her back to Massachusetts."

"What? No, that's not the point at all," Joe protested. He was surprised enough that he was actually able to look the detective in the eye again. "I don't want her arrested. I only told you because the whole thing probably plays into why she tried to kill herself."

"From what I heard, I'm sure of that, but that doesn't excuse what she did." Gomez rubbed his chin. "I take this sort of thing very seriously. Sexual assaults are one of the most underreported crime in the country, and female-on-male more so than any other kind. I understand why that is. The nature of the crime is humiliating. Then, too, most people believe that it's virtually impossible for a man to be the victim of this kind of crime, especially at the hands of a woman. So not only does a male victim have to admit to the details of the crime, but he also has to face the fact that he will probably not be believed or taken seriously, including, potentially, by law enforcement."

"Whatever." Joe shook his head, overwhelmed by the turn this had taken. "I'm not filing a complaint against her."

Gomez frowned slightly, although there was sympathy in the expression. "I understand. I don't agree, but I understand."

HBHBHBHBHB

There were some times when the apartment felt entirely too small. It really was too small for four grown men, especially when, Tony thought with a wry grin, they didn't act like grown-ups all the time. After the police had finished interviewing them, the Hardys, Tony, and Phil had returned to the apartment, all a little worse for the wear. Shaun had gotten back by then. He'd clearly been downing large quantities of coffee and aspirin, and he was a little more coherent than he had been on the phone. He wanted to hear the whole story, which no one wanted to repeat after telling it so thoroughly to Gomez and the other officers. They left it up to Frank to diplomatically decide what to tell him.

It was toward the beginning of the recital that Tony abruptly decided that this was one of those times when the apartment was much too small for six people and a large dog. He called Axel and took him outside. He was half-tempted to take a walk, but with an assassin on the loose, that didn't seem like such a good idea, so he simply sat down on the porch step. Axel lay next to him and he absently stroked the dog's fur.

Feeling the dog's fur beneath his hand was relaxing. What he really felt like he needed was a drink, but that would mean going back inside and it sounded too crowded. Instead, he put his free hand in his pocket and felt his rosary beads which he carried out of long-standing habit. His mother had always told him to keep a set in his left-hand pocket. Tony smiled slightly as he pictured his mom telling him that he should never go around 'unarmed.'

Then he heard the door open. He turned to see that Callie had come outside.

"I really didn't want to hear the details again," she said, feeling that some explanation was needed.

Tony nodded. "Can't blame you there."

Then Callie noticed the beads in his hand. "Oh, am I interrupting you?"

It took Tony a second to understand what she meant, but then he glanced at the beads and realized. "No. It's fine. I was just thinking, not praying. Even though that would probably be a better idea right now."

Callie sat on the other side of the step with her back against the support. "I don't know if I could pray if I tried right now. What were you thinking about? I'd like to think about anything else." She didn't have to explain what it was that she didn't want to think about.

"Just…Well, my mom. She always says that we're in the middle of battle with the forces of evil." Tony held up the beads slightly. "So she says to always carry one of these with you, in your left pocket, because knights would carry their swords on their left side. Which is cool, I guess. I always thought maybe I should try the right. Easier to get to and I could say I'm following the example of an Old West gunslinger."

Callie chuckled slightly. "Carry one in each pocket, and then you'll really be like a gunslinger."

"Now there's an idea."

"Seriously, though, isn't that a little…" Callie paused, suddenly deciding that the word she had intended to use might not come across quite right.

"Superstitious?" Tony finished for her. "No. It's not like a good luck charm or anything like that. It only does you any good if you actually pray with it. Well, I mean, if you don't pray with it, it still reminds you that you should, so that's worth something. It's like having a Bible around. It doesn't really do you any good if it's just gathering dust on a shelf, although it does remind you that you should be reading it, which is better nothing."

"I guess so." Callie glanced out across the street. "Do you talk to your mom much these days? And your dad and sisters? Not that it's any of my business."

Tony shrugged. "I don't mind. Yeah, we talk on the phone pretty often. You know, I didn't used to have the easiest relationship with Lisa, but we've worked things out. She says she's going to come out and visit sometime, but it wouldn't work for her to stay in this madhouse, so it would mean getting a hotel for her. Makes for an expensive trip."

"No kidding. We hardly ever hear from Joe anymore." Callie glanced up at Tony. "Did you know about…?" She let the sentence hang. Again, no further explanation was necessary.

"I suspected something like that," Tony admitted, "but no, I didn't know the details."

"I had no idea. You've seen him and talked to him a lot more than I have recently. Do you think he's okay?"

Tony kicked at the dirt next to the porch step. "Well, truth be told, no, but I don't think it's all Darcy. It's not even all Angelo and getting stabbed and the whole assassin thing. He's homesick and he misses working on cases with Frank. Both of those are really obvious. He thinks he can't hack detective work, and that's a major blow. And then there's Iola."

"You think he still cares about her?"

"No. I know it. He flat out refuses to date anyone else. I've tried to set him up with a girl or two, but he won't even look at them. Not even Jenna, who happens to be very cute and also helped save his life when he got stabbed."

"I thought it wasn't that serious."

"Well, yeah, but we didn't realize that then. It looked bad enough."

Callie traced the wood grain of the porch floor with her finger. "If you think so much of this Jenna, why don't you date her?"

"I don't know. I guess…You remember on that case when my sisters, Lisa and Katherine, were kidnapped?"

"It's kind of hard to forget," Callie replied. "It seems to keep coming up. That was the same one when…the thing with Darcy…"

"Yeah. Do you remember that the one guy came very close to strangling me?"

Callie nodded, and Tony paused. He wasn't sure how to explain this.

"What does that have to do with Jenna?" Callie asked.

"Nothing, because I'm not dating her. It just made me realize that maybe hanging around Frank and Joe doesn't make for a long life expectancy. It makes it kind of hard to think about long-term plans and things, you know?"

"Yeah, I know." Callie nodded again. "I've had to think about that a lot. Frank and I talked it all out thoroughly before we got married. We decided that nobody is guaranteed a long life and it doesn't make any sense to put your life on hold because some tragedy might lie ahead. But you definitely shouldn't worry that much about it. You can walk away from all this entirely, if you want."

"I know, but I won't," Tony replied. "Frank and Joe are my friends, and they've stuck by me through some hard stuff, like Lisa's escapades and then later, her and Katherine getting kidnapped, and they took a lot risks in both those cases. It would be ungrateful to cut ties with them because I'm afraid I might get hurt."

"That's true. They'd both take any risk before they let anything happen to someone they care about."

Tony nodded. "Maybe you and I really don't have that much to worry about, after all."