Once more, I'd like to thank all those who've reviewed the last chapter - keep 'em coming!
A few warnings for this chapter, involves alcohol consumption (but not excessive) and suggested violence (again, not excessive). And Gordon almost gets lucky!
Enjoy!
"Well, at least we know for sure what happened," John commented softly as they climbed back into their vehicle. "It wasn't Joseph. He believes she murdered the kids, but he never gave those suspicions to the police."
"He's so angry with her," Alan sighed. "Then he's angry at himself cos he made her angry in the first place and he can't be angry at her anymore. Now he's tired of being angry, but he can't forgive her or himself and he's just bitter."
"That's a lot of emotion to be holding onto for so long," Scott said thoughtfully. He turned to the back seat. "You okay, kid? Holding your own?"
Alan nodded. "Yeah. I'm glad it's sunny today."
Scott had to smile, even though the shadows were getting longer and it was nearing dusk. "Me too, kiddo, me too."
"Dad was here," John mentioned quietly as Scott started the engine.
"The guy asking the weird questions?" Scott guessed, a little sigh escaping when he saw Alan's face brighten. "I wondered. He must have left not long after he visited Joseph."
"We have a destination, though," John reminded him. "Those co-ordinates he left."
He'd seen Scott flicking through their father's journal late at night, unable to sleep. If Scott found the tattered old book a comfort, John was going to let things be, but if it was a destructive move on his brother's part, John wouldn't hesitate to confiscate it. Scott was a control freak, by nature and by design, but he could carry it too far and end up hurting himself, telling himself what he was doing was for the good of his brothers or making him stronger. It was sometimes as if Scott thought he could become immune to pain once he'd had enough of it, and who knew, maybe you could do that, but him willingly taking hit after hit wasn't something anyone could stand to watch.
For now, though, Scott was alright and Virgil had his eye on him. Between the two of them, John was willing to bet they'd be ready should Scott decide now was the time to fall on his sword for his cause. Thinking of Virgil, John wondered where he was.
"Bringing home the bacon, hopefully," Scott replied, refusing to elaborate on how Virgil was out making money. "That's his party trick," Scott insisted. "I'm not going to spoil the surprise."
"We're near the exit for Jericho," John pointed out, a moment later. "You want to turn off, or collect the other two first?"
"Let's get the boys," Scott decided. "We'll do this as a family."
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Virgil worked the knots from his shoulders as he entered the building. The other patrons eyed him as he made his way to the bar, a powerful man who looked as if he could do the business, which was an expression his younger brother was unused to seeing.
Gordon made up his mind to find out just what Virgil did while he was away developing engines for Tracy Industries. A man didn't learn that look penning designs or building prototypes, unless there was something fundamentally wrong with Gordon's understanding of the type of work Virgil was involved with.
Virgil ordered a beer, not batting an eye when Gordon added his order to the bill. Although Gordon was underage in this country and looked it, the pretty girl behind the counter served him instantly, with a suggestive smile to boot. Returning it, Gordon decided this trip certainly had its moments.
Virgil ordered a chaser, something Gordon hadn't realised his brother would enjoy, much less know. He'd always had Virgil pegged as slow, steady and kinda dull, drink wise. Scott, with his military service, knew how to kick back and relax and even John could be persuaded to let his hair down, but Virgil hadn't seemed the type to sit as comfortably in a strange bar as he was doing now. Gordon therefore watched with interest as Virgil downed the shot without appearing to notice the alcohol, swallowed the last of his beer and asked for another. Once the bottle had been placed before him, Virgil pushed away from the bar and wandered casually to the pool table, quietly offering to play the winner of the current game.
Sitting, Gordon frowned. This was how Virgil had interpreted Scott's order to acquire some ready cash? Virgil was just full of surprises this evening. Gordon watched as his brother played, doing alright, but missing several winning shots. Growing bored, Gordon turned and found the bar girl a decent pastime while Virgil lulled his companions into what the red head seriously hoped was a false sense of security.
Her name, he discovered upon ordering a second beer, was Wendy, she was free every Wednesday night and boyfriends held no appeal for her.
"No one's gonna come looking for me, then?" Gordon asked, lifting the bottle to his lips.
"Daddy's long gone, no brothers," Wendy purred, leaning on the counter and letting Gordon get a good look at what was on offer. "And unless you're the same red head from Jericho with the APB I heard about on the scanner, I don't see a problem."
Gordon tried hard not to react to the news the Sheriff's department had thought him important enough and plastered on a dazzling grin instead. "You wouldn't know a place I could lie low, would you?"
Wendy laughed. "I'm sure I could think of somewhere. It'd cost ya, though."
"I'm certain we could come to an agreement," Gordon murmured softly, watching her expression change from amused flirting to seductive interest. The moment was broken when one of the regulars called her away.
Gordon turned to check on Virgil. His older brother was cleaning the table, hitting some pretty impressive shots. When he straightened from sinking the black, his expression suggested his opponent could try not to pay up, as long as he was willing to eat through a straw for the foreseeable future. Grudgingly giving the cash over, the man talked his friend into trying to win the money back. Gordon smirked. Trust Virgil to master everything he put his mind to. Typical Tracy over achiever. The aforementioned scanner spluttered as Wendy returned, telling patrol cars nearby about a disturbance on Jefferson Street and Gordon spun back round to listen.
"Kids," Wendy shrugged, seeing Gordon's interest. "The local off licence is on Jefferson."
"Why'd you have that thing?" Gordon asked.
Wendy nodded towards the pool table. "We're not exactly a licensed gambling establishment," she drawled. "The owner's done time for some small offences and we're not fussy who we serve. We get raided pretty often, its easier all round if we know about it beforehand."
"Amen to that," Gordon grinned, toasting her with his bottle and Wendy laughed again. They chatted for a while, light and easy, until Virgil joined them. Wendy left the brothers so she could soothe the ruffled feathers of the locals.
"We're rich, then?" Gordon asked lazily.
"As long as I don't get jumped," Virgil agreed.
"Avoid the john," Gordon advised.
Virgil nodded. "I'm gonna get out while the going's good. If you're staying here, get back at a decent hour and behave yourself."
Gordon snorted. "I got the talk, Virge," he said. "And I'm not stupid."
Virgil grinned, wondering if their father's rather blunt declaration had made Gordon blush as much as it had him. Along the lines of 'you get her pregnant, you get to marry her', Jeff had laid down the ground rules in a foundation of cement.
"I mean," Gordon continued, warming to his theme. "Wendy Tracy? It'd never work."
Virgil shook his head, standing up. "Alright, squirt. Try not to upset the locals."
"Hello, Pot? Have you met Kettle?" Gordon laughed. "I believe you may have something in common."
"Smart ass," Virgil smiled. "Do as I say, not as I do, little brother."
"You rebel."
Before Virgil could reply, the scanner crackled again, spitting out information rapidly, patrol cars responding in a flurry of action. The brother's shared an uneasy glance when they heard the name 'Welch' mentioned.
"Poor guy," Wendy said, returning. "Only last week he has some fella digging into his personal life, now more people are at it."
"Yeah?" Gordon asked, as casually as he could. "Must be something worth digging for."
"They say his wife was murdered back in Jericho," Wendy revealed. "As if that's not bad enough, kids gotta keep getting onto his property, looking for bones. They all think he did it, those not old enough to remember how cut up he was."
Gordon smiled. "I'd imagine that includes you?"
"Well, yeah," Wendy dimpled, probably younger than Virgil. "But my mom used to know him."
"You don't say," Gordon murmured, captivated by those dimples. He flashed a smile of his own, not without charms himself.
Wendy leaned closer. "You're gonna have to promise me that you'll take care going home tonight."
"Why's that?"
"Been a couple of boys gone missing of late, just up the road. I'd hate it if you disappeared on me."
Gordon allowed her to play with he fingers of his right hand where they circled his beer bottle. "I'm a wanted man," he reminded her. "I gotta disappear."
Wendy smiled. "Story of my life."
Virgil ignored their flirting, intent on the scanner. One car eventually reported that some reporters had stirred 'old man Welch' up again. He'd panicked, but they'd long since gone. Virgil relaxed and shot his brother a smile.
"Remember, you're the one who's gonna have to answer to Scott," he cautioned, dark eyes laughing as he left. Gordon rolled his eyes at his brother's back and returned his attention to Wendy.
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In hindsight, Gordon admitted he'd pushed his luck. Especially when the first off duty officer rocked on up to order a downtime beer. The two men had exchanged suspicious glances, but the officer had moved away and Gordon found Wendy too entertaining to let the concern of being arrested again distract him.
Naturally, the officer wasn't going to drink alone, and it was safe to assume that at least one of his buddies would work with him, but Gordon hadn't let his mind wander in that direction, not when Wendy was hinting at another direction entirely. So when the guy ordering next to him did a double take and Gordon recognised him as Officer Kelly, Gordon swore like the sailor he was. Not because he would have to get himself out of the situation pronto, but because when his brother's found out, he was going to wish he'd let himself get arrested. He was sure they couldn't shout at you quite so much when they arrested you.
To add to his misery, Gordon heard the scanner hiss, learning that an SUV had been spotted in the area, possibly containing those naughty fella's who'd posed as Marshall's, or even those other ones who'd escaped custody so easily. At least, Gordon reflected, he wasn't the only one in trouble.
Officer Kelly reached for his phone and Wendy, confused by the men's reactions to one another, followed Gordon when he vaulted suddenly, and with an athleticism she couldn't help but admire, over the bar and darted into the back room. Gordon spun to face her, having just discovered the golden rule about mixing alcohol with psychic powers. Don't.
"I need a way out."
Wendy stared. "You really are the red head from Jericho," she realised.
"It's nothing bad," Gordon assured her quickly, but she held up a hand to stop him.
"I don't care," she announced, moving to open the fire escape. Gordon paused in the doorway to thank her and she pressed herself close. "I've been waiting for this all night," she breathed, kissing him.
Gordon had to appreciate her sense of cinematic timing, even as he untangled himself. Looking down into her eyes, Gordon smiled.
"We'll always have the town next to Jericho," he promised, butchering the classic line and making Wendy laugh.
"Go!" she said, pushing him into the night and shutting the door swiftly.
Gordon sighed, hearing sirens in the distance. Well, he reflected. He'd always enjoyed a little adventure in his life.
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She appeared out of no-where.
Even though Scott stamped on the breaks immediately, the car still passed through her body, a shadow of white that all three Tracy's felt as a shudder in the machine and a chill in their veins. It took a second for them to process what had happened and although the engine still ran, Scott made no move to engage it.
"Damn," he whispered.
John spun to face him, speaking urgently. "Have you ever been unfaithful?"
Scott met his brother's eyes directly, but said nothing.
"Get out of the car," John ordered him,
"John-"
"Take Alan and get going."
Scott was hotwiredto protect; instinct drove him to put his body between his brothers and danger, to act as a shield or a decoy and now was no different. He shook his head. "You go. It doesn't matter to her if you're faithful or not anymore."
John leaned over Scott and opened the driver's door. "Any chance is one we have to take."
Scott knew to hesitate further could be fatal to all three of them. "Alan, get out of the car," he ordered as he exited the vehicle himself. Leaning his head back inside as John scooted behind the wheel, Scott told his brother to be careful.
"You know where to go?" he asked.
John nodded. "Meet me at Breckenridge."
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The door flew open, heralding the arrival of 'Tornado Tracy'. Gordon staggered in, breathless yet still attempting to communicate. Virgil watched him silently for a moment before he sighed, rose to his feet and reached for his jacket.
Gordon had to give his brother credit for not asking what he'd done, although his admiration for him waned when Virgil insisted on locking the door behind them with no regard for Gordon's tightly strung nerves. Still, once Virgil got moving, he broke into his mile eating lope immediately and Gordon inwardly praised the man's innate ability to not get excited whenever Gordon turned up with the 'oops' expression on his face.
They ran for some time, Gordon putting the intense physical fitness WASP required of him to good use and Virgil letting him set the pace and direction, matching the younger boy step for step. Gordon couldn't help but wonder why an engineer felt the need to keep in such good shape, eventually deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth but to simply embrace the fact that Virgil could keep up. Finally, Gordon stopped, bending over to try to coax air back into his starving lungs. Virgil did the same, but still managed to employ the big brother favourite pastime of wondering just what he'd done this time.
"Gordy?"
The copper haired Tracy winced, knowing an explanation was now required.
"Sheriff," he gasped, flapping a hand in the direction Scott and the others had taken.
Chest heaving, Virgil turned to look. He glanced back down at his exhausted brother. Eventually, and with no apparent trace of humour, he asked if there had been a bit of trouble.
Gordon managed to gasp incredulously at him. "We have … to get … to Scott."
Virgil's left eyebrow rose. "You can't translocate?"
"Four beers."
"Is that some sort of WASP swearing system?"
Gordon knew Virgil was being dense on purpose and gestured accordingly. Virgil chuckled.
"Let's get going, then," he suggested. "Since we'll have to do this the hard way."
"You're enjoying this," Gordon accused him sourly.
Virgil's smile was like the sun rising. "Absolutely."
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The air chilled and John's breath hung in puffs, his skin tingling with the cold and his nose beginning to run. It didn't take long before Raquel appeared in the SUV's back seat, her dark eyes seeking John's in the rear view mirror. She smiled. John continued to drive, silent and determined. Raquel stretched one leg as she shifted seductively, causing the hem of her summer dress to creep up her thigh.
"Take me home?" the ghost asked softly, heaving her chest and adopting a winsome expression.
John nodded. "It's on my to-do list," he promised. "But my home's a little far. Why don't we stop off at yours?"
Raquel's pretty face snarled in the rear view mirror, flashing into decayed flesh and exposed bone as she displayed her anger. John saw they were nearing the turning for Breckenridge and pushed the SUV harder.
Seeing her anger was doing nothing to distract him, Raquel vanished, reappearing after several moments in the front passenger seat as John took the corner at speed.
"Do you think I'm pretty?"
John almost nodded in spite of himself, because, hell ... yeah.
"You can't hurt me," he replied instead. "I've never been unfaithful."
All of a sudden, Raquel's weight pressed into John's thighs as she straddled him. "You will be," she promised.