So so far Hannibal and B.A. had been out to see the coroner, next were the cops, Murdock knew no matter what they found that they had to be making some progress. Hannibal had to be finding something that would help them.

"You know," Frankie told Murdock when he hung up the phone, "It's too bad that when you guys broke me out of the hospital, you didn't tell me you were coming, we could've killed two birds with one stone and busted out the guy in the room next to me too."

"Who's that?" Murdock asked.

"He's a Vet like you guys," Frankie said, "I think his name is Kyle Hanson…real weird one that is."

"What's so weird about him?" Murdock asked, suddenly feeling a challenge coming up.

"Well, if I heard right, he was lost in the bush for 8 months in Vietnam, given up for dead for two thirds of a year, and then one day just walked right out. He spent 14 months in a V.A. hospital and never said a single word to anybody during his whole stay, finally they had to release him for some reason, so they unleashed him back onto society, now how they caught him again is just beyond me. I told him he should've been my boyfriend, Masterson would've been dead the second he stepped on my front porch."

Murdock laughed and then a thought occurred to him, "Say, Frankie, you said that in the hospital you got violent with the orderlies and the nurses."

"That's right."

"Why didn't you ever get violent with this Masterson creep? Don't you think he might've taken a hint from that and backed off?"

"Well, I'll admit I wanted to, I wanted to so much, but I knew it wouldn't do any good, he'd just get me in even more trouble with my parents if I did that," Frankie said, "I know, I know that these guys look for victims who they think won't make any trouble, who won't fight back, and believe me, if I thought it would've done any good I would've bashed the guy's head in with a cinderblock if I could've. You asked me earlier if I thought my parents hated me…you didn't ask me if I hated them."

"Do you?" Murdock asked.

"When I finally lost it and beat them up, trying to get put in the hospital, I enjoyed it," Frankie told him, "I'm looking at my mother and I've got her by the hair and I'm punching her in the face as hard as I can, and then I see my father and I kick him and take him down and I'm kicking him in his ribs, and I love it. All I could think about was all the times I told them what was going on, and they never listened, never believed me, they said I made it up, they said I imagined it, that they couldn't figure out why I lied all the time…I don't know that I hate my parents, but I loved seeing them suffer as I beat the crap out of them, now if that makes any kind of sense, you tell me."

"It does," he said with a nod of his head.

"I hated doing it, but I loved it, I wished I could've told them why I did it, but it wouldn't have solved anything and they wouldn't have understood it anyway," she explained, "You can't tell your parents why you want to be locked up in the nuthouse. They never would've gotten it."

"Most people wouldn't," Murdock told her, "Unfortunately the best people to understand are the insane and the crazy because it makes perfect sense to them."

"If ever once they would've just listened to me and believed me," Frankie shook her head, "Then we wouldn't be in this mess now. No, that's not true, if I'd never been with Mad Dog then this would never have happened."

"Frankie, since you're the only one who can remember that night, I'm going to ask you a question," Murdock said, "When you woke up, and you saw him standing over you covered in blood…how was he covered in it?"

Frankie thought about it for a minute and then told him, "Take off your jacket and come with me into the kitchen, I'll show you."

Murdock followed her and hung his jacket over a chair at the table. Frankie turned on the kitchen faucet and ran her hands under the water and then turned and smeared them on Murdock's shirt. It was a light blue shirt so the large damp spots showed easily; she pawed her hands all over him and then smeared his cheeks the same way and down his arms.

"Like that?" he asked, maintaining a straight composure while standing there half soaked with cold water.

"Yeah," Frankie said as she turned the tap off.

"No blood spatter," Murdock observed, "So how did anybody think that Mad Dog killed that woman?"

"You tell me and we'll all know," Frankie told him.

"Frankie," Murdock thought of something, "You said that the day you went to talk to the prosecutor about what you knew, that was the day he was shot and killed, right?"

Frankie nodded, "I told that defense rat that I didn't care what they said, what they tried to do, I was going to tell the prosecutor what happened because he would have to know that the evidence didn't match up."

Murdock nodded slowly and said, "And then the prosecutor gets killed, and a new one comes in who's happy to take the insanity plea."

Frankie's eyes widened, "You mean Masterson had him killed too?"

"Could be," Murdock nodded, "And I think that he knows the other guy who took over the case."

"You think he deliberately had Mad Dog put in the crazy hospital, why?" Frankie asked.

"Oh well it's very simple," Murdock nodded faster as he explained, "In prison there's always a chance that somebody will believe your story of innocence, that's where appeals come from…but nobody is going to believe a crazy person's word because they're crazy, and he wouldn't admit that he is crazy because he's not crazy but it's the people who say they're not crazy that are," he smiled and added, "I'm the only exception there."

Frankie hit herself in the head and groaned, "This is hopeless."

"Fear not, cous, we're going to find the answer to this puzzle one way or another," Murdock told her, "I give you my word as a mental patient."

"You have no idea how much that means to me right now," Frankie said, "It's come to my attention that most of those people in the crazy hospital are the sanest ones you'll ever find." She paused for a moment and added, "It's very odd, isn't it, Murdock?"

"What is?" he asked.

"That M.D. is so much older than I am, but ever since this whole mess started it's been me trying to protect him, trying to help him." She laughed oddly and said, "When I was a kid, I always thought if you were taller than someone, bigger than them, or older than them, that you had nothing to worry about from them…that size and age made all the difference and you could beat up anybody who tried to mess with you. And here's Murdoch, so much bigger and older than I am, but he needs my help…and here I am still so much younger and smaller than Richard Masterson and…"

"And?" Murdock asked.

"I feel like I could kill him," Frankie said.

"Murdock," Face said as he looked around the room apprehensively, "Where are Mad Dog and Frankie?"

"In the kitchen getting lunch, why?" Murdock asked.

"Well I don't know about you, Murdock, but I'm really uncomfortable having these people here," Face said.

"Why?" Murdock asked.

"Why?" Face repeated in disbelief, "Murdock, now you know I don't have a problem with crazy people in general, after all that's why we have you."

"Naturally," Murdock said.

"But I know you, Murdock, I've known you for over 10 years, these people we've only known them for two days, what do we really know about them? How do we know that they're not lying to us about this whole thing?"

"Well I think if we were being set up on a wild goose chase that Hannibal would've found it out and they'd have been back long before now," Murdock suggested.

"But still, how do we know that they're telling us the whole truth?" Face asked, "Do you really believe that that guy Mad Dog couldn't hurt somebody, even if he had to? What about this morning when he was hugging B.A.'s leg like a boa constrictor? You know how B.A. never responds to anything touching him or hitting him unless it's over his head, but he said how strong of a grip Mad Dog had on him."

"Well that was a nightmare Face, you know that always makes a difference," Murdock said.

"Maybe, but how do we know that they're telling the truth? How do we know that Mad Dog isn't just pretending that he was drugged? It's very easy to say you don't remember anything."

"Face, you disappoint me," Murdock said as he shook his head sadly, "Now don't you think I learned anything at the V.A.?"

"I don't know, about what?" Face asked.

"Face, believe it or not there are a lot of people who aren't insane who try to convince the doctors that they are."

"You don't say," Face dryly responded.

"It is the doctor's responsibility to find out to the best of his ability if a patient is telling the truth and if he actually is suffering from a mental disorder."

"So?"

"So they become human lie detectors, they don't just listen to you talk, they watch you, they observe, they notice your body language to determine if you're lying to them or not, and this is without having any prior knowledge of how they act when they're telling the truth."

"And you think you learned how to do the same thing?" Face guessed, "That you can tell by if they twitch or jerk or bite their nails when they're talking?"

"I like to think so, yes," Murdock answered, "That, and how terrified they both were when they recalled the events on the night of the murder…that's why I believe them. I don't think my family would lie about something like that."

"Murdock, don't start on that again, please," Face said.

"Well you don't know, Face, alright, so maybe M.D. can't be part of my family, but Frankie might be, and if when this is over she and he get married then that'd make us all family."

"Murdock," Face tried to restrain himself from saying what he was really thinking and settled on, "I really don't know that you ought to associate so closely with those people."

"How come?" Murdock asked as he followed Face into the kitchen.

"Because Murdock, insane, murderers, or not, we are dealing with a couple of loons here!" Face said, and then realized that Frankie and Mad Dog were in the kitchen listening to him.

"Loons, eh?" Frankie asked as she bit down on a piece of steak, "You know what, Face? You can call us anything you want, we're in your house, we're eating your food, we're drinking your wine…this is paradise after that hospital."

"Yeah well don't be getting too comfortable," Face suggested, "As soon as we solve this case, you two are going to go back to wherever you came from."

"Can't," Frankie said, "After Murdoch's house was declared a crime scene, nobody wanted the place and it was condemned, and the last place I lived before the hospital was with my parents, and I ain't ever going back there."

"Well you can't stay with us," Face said.

"I would extend the invitation to stay at my place since there's always plenty of beds," Murdock said, "But I doubt that a roundtrip to the V.A. was in your immediate future plans."

"Can't we just stay with you guys for a little while until this thing gets sorted out?" Frankie asked.

"How long is a little while?" Face asked suspiciously.

"Is forever too long?" she replied with a coy smile.

Her demeanor changed and she suddenly looked worried and said, "Your friends should've been back by now, something's happened."

"Never put anything past Hannibal," Face said.

"Are you kidding me?" Sergeant Madden, a middle aged man who had aged 20 years extra from his job and wore it horribly, asked when Hannibal had stated what business he and his 'associate' were there on.

"I do not specialize in kidding, officer," Hannibal replied, "I don't mind telling you that 2,500 miles is a long way to go for a fishing expedition so you better believe we made this trip on some merit. Our boss at the District Attorney's office says to reopen this case to establish the pattern, the connection, so that's what we're here for, now we've already paid a visit to the attending coroner who oversaw the autopsy, Dr. Scheiner."

"That old kook!" the sergeant declared, "Well that just figures, he's just the kind of screwball to go along with a cockeyed idea like this. He's always screwing around on cases, thinks he's that Japanese guy, Noda…Nogami…"

"Dr. Thomas Noguchi," Hannibal corrected him, "The Los Angeles County Chief Medical Examiner until a couple of years ago."

"Yeah, him," the sergeant jeered dismissively, "That quack too, they're just as bad as one another..."

"Perhaps Dr. Noguchi should've performed the autopsy," Hannibal said, "I'm sure if he had, you would've had your killer two years ago and then we wouldn't be here."

"And what makes your boss think that the two deaths are connected?" the sergeant wanted to know.

"Well it's just a number of things that can't be written off as mere coincidence, a beautiful young woman, stabbed nine times and dumped in somebody's home to be found, a decoy knife left by the body."

"What do you mean decoy?" one of the younger officers who had worked the case asked.

"Did you run a test on the knife found at the crime scene or not?" Hannibal asked.

"No, why should we?" he asked.

"Because, tests on the knife found at the second crime scene proved that there was no skin tissue or bone particles on the blade," Hannibal said, "The victim's blood had only been smeared on, the real murder weapon had been taken with the killer when he left."

The officer and the sergeant looked at each other with a look that mutually said what neither would admit, that they had screwed up and now it was out in the open.

B.A., his usual strong silent type, hadn't said more than two words since he and Hannibal entered the police department. Now they were all shut off in an interview box where they interrogated criminals so they could speak privately; he stood blocking the doorway so the cops couldn't leave, so far they hadn't proven themselves dumb enough to try. Hannibal had certainly made him a sight to see, much to the sergeant's blatant disapproval of this plan, he had temporarily shed his gold chains and rings and put on a suit that he had said, and Hannibal could quote, 'I feel like I ought to shoot myself right now, being a cop was bad, being a lawyer's worse'.

"I might remind you gentlemen that while we have no standing jurisdiction here, our boss can very well get in contact with your boss and you will face legal consequences for hindering prosecution if you refuse to cooperate with us. This is a capital murder case, and we at the District Attorney's office tend to take those very seriously. To establish a pattern, we're going to need everything you have from your investigation, now."

"I don't like it, I just don't like it," Mad Dog told Murdock later that afternoon, "They should've been back before now, what could be going on?"

"Unfortunately they probably ain't by the van's mobile phone so we can't call to find out," Murdock said, seemingly unfazed by Hannibal and B.A.'s long absence, "But if anything happens, Hannibal will find a way to get a message to us, he always does, just gotta have a little faith in the colonel."

Mad Dog laughed humorlessly and said, "You know when the last time was I could have faith in anybody?"

"You mean besides Frankie?"

"Yeah, besides her," he answered, "Been a long time."

"You two really seem to be perfect for each other," Murdock noted as he recalled Frankie's earlier comments about not having anyone to trust, "Did you ever meet her parents?"

"No," Murdoch told him, "We agreed that it wouldn't be in either of our best interests given our age difference."

"But you know Masterson," Murdock said.

"I was at the house one night when he paid a visit," he explained, "I answered the door, and that dude gives me the strangest look I've ever seen. I didn't like him, and you can believe me the feeling was perfectly mutual."

"He say anything?" Murdock asked.

"Demanded to know who I was and what I was doing there," Mad Dog told him, "Then he starts asking about my age…I pointed out he's a lot older than I am but that's not stopping him from trying to get in, he didn't take too kindly to that."

"You get in it with him?"

"No, I just slammed the door on him and locked it, I think he hurt his hand that way," Mad Dog explained.

"So how did Frankie explain it all?" Murdock asked.

"Well she didn't want to at first, which is understandable," M.D. said, "She always tried not to let on about it, but you could tell she was really scared of the guy…having me there didn't seem to help any, so we decided she'd just come over to Bakersfield and see me, we really didn't think that Masterson would follow her and come after us there. Our mistake was in stopping there, we should've just kept going and gone somewhere he could never find us, I doubt her parents would've noticed much, and as I said, nobody's waiting around for my release."

Murdock nodded sympathetically, he knew that if it wasn't for the rest of the Team, he'd be in a similar boat.

"You know, Mad Dog, I like you, I really…I like you, and I like Frankie, I like both of you guys," he said, "I want to see you guys get to go back to some kind of home when this whole thing is over."

"You and me both, man," he replied, "You think we got a chance? You think this mess is ever going to end?"

"Oh Hannibal's plans always work, maybe not like he thinks they will…but they always do," Murdock said, "Just gotta have some faith."

"I'm trying, but it ain't easy, not after two years of being locked up for something that I know I didn't do, and I got the feeling that everybody around me who said I did knew I didn't also."

"Yeah, we know the feeling," Murdock told him.

Face entered the living room and said, "Murdock, I've got a feeling we better get down to the grocery store and stock up, I think Frankie's trying to make a go of emptying that fridge before tonight."

"Well don't forget we are eating for two more people now, Face, I think that's a good idea," Murdock said as he got up from the couch.

"Uh…" Face felt his pockets and asked Murdock, "Did you take the keys to the 'Vette again?"

Murdock shook his head.

"Wait a minute," Face said as a sudden feeling of anxiety came over him, "Where's Frankie?"

The three of them got their answer when they heard the roar of a car engine outside.

"No!" Face exclaimed in disbelief as he and the others ran for the front door.

They got out onto the porch and saw Face's corvette swerving and skidding off to the side in the outside part of the yard that was just a bunch of eroded soil between the curb and the driveway. The dirt kicked up and formed a dust cloud that smeared itself all over the side of the car, much to Face's immense displeasure.

"Hey!" he said as he ran up to the car.

Frankie hit the brake and turned the engine off, and stood up to see over the windshield, "What's happening?"

"What do you think you're doing?" Face exploded, "This is my car!"

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Frankie said, "I've seen a lot of white corvettes but never one with a red stripe down the side, you don't think that makes you a little obvious?"

"Did you see the van?" Murdock asked humorously.

Frankie handed Face back the keys and got out as she said, "You know how long it's been since I've been behind the wheel of a car?"

Face laughed dryly and said, "Not long enough is my guess." He groaned as he saw the car caked in dirt and said, "Aw geez, look what you did to it!"

"Might just save your neck," Frankie said nonchalantly, "There ain't a lot of traffic up and down this road, and up on the main road you can see forever, saw a cop car coming up here with the lights on."

"Police? For us?" Murdock asked.

"Or us," Frankie told him.

"Nah," Face shook his head, an all too familiar feeling of dread running through him, "Gotta be Lynch, they must've found us somehow."

"Who's Lynch?" Mad Dog asked.

"He's the leader of an Army parade that's always trying to catch us," Face said, he turned to Murdock and said, "We gotta think of something fast."

"We're in luck, I've got an idea," Murdock told him.

"Yeah we're in luck alright, and probably all bad," Frankie observed.