Hello, first off,l I apologize for taking long to update had stuff to take care of, second want to thank you everyone again for your wonderful reviews and comments. And thank you to those who are following and favorites or just reading. And thank you to my beta reader you are awesome.

And to a certain reviewer (RL) if you go to my profile page ErinJordan and click on PM which means (private messaging) I will do my best to answer your questions. Instead of asking me through the review part that's really not what it's for, the review part is for reviewing a person's story. the only way I will answer your questions is if you PM me. And yes I am working on my story again be patient. I will post when I'm ready. Thank you.

A Brother's Revenge Chapter 4

The warm morning breeze hit Fenton as he walked out the front door of the police station with Joe. Summer was almost here but instead of enjoying it was already off to a rocky start with Hayden's Murder.

Fenton stayed at Joe's side to make sure he made it safely down the steps with his crutches. Once they reached the bottom step Joe paused and turned around to look back at the doors. Fenton noted the worried look on his son's face. He didn't have to say a word. He knew his thoughts were on Frank, because he was thinking of him too.

"Frank's going to be alright Joe." He put a comforting arm around him. Fenton looked back at the doors, he didn't want to leave him in there either. "He's in good hands. The Chief and Con will keep an eye on him. Right now we have to be strong for Frank."

Joe just nodded.

"Come on, let's get going." Fenton said as they made their way to his car.

He held the passenger door open as Joe eased himself into the seat. Once Joe was inside and all situated Fenton shut the door and placed the crutches in the backseat. Then went around to the front and got in behind the wheel. He started the car but didn't go anywhere. His hands firmly gripping the wheel so tight turning his knuckles white. He glanced at the clock it read 10:00 AM on the dashboard.

Sam already left a few minutes ago. He had received word on the hospital fire case and had gone to check it out. In fact, Fenton had turned that case over to Sam because he needed to stay focused on clearing Frank. And Sam was fine with that, promising to keep his partner informed of what he found out.

Fenton just sat there lost in thought. There was no doubt in his mind that Frank was innocent. He didn't kill Hayden and damn it, he was going to prove it. However, he still couldn't get over Frank's behavior of being distracted and keeping secrets from them. He's was overwhelmed by everything that's that had happened to him and Joe in the past two weeks.

That had to be it, Fenton thought, and with depression in the middle of it, it wasn't making things easy on him. Fenton just hoped with everything in him that Frank will find the strength in him to get through this latest hurdle with his sanity intact.

"Dad?"

Pushing his thoughts aside, Fenton loosened his grip on the wheel and turned his head to his younger son in the passenger seat. "Yeah." He replied.

'Will you tell me what was said in that room?" Joe asked, he needed answers.

"I know I'm restricted from detective work. But don't you think I at least have the right to know what's going on with my brother? When he came out of the room. He didn't look good, his face was pale and he had that far away look in his eyes."

He rubbed his chest, "Something's wrong with Frank, I can feel it. We can't leave him in there too long. We have to get him out." Joe turned back to the police station. Everything in him wanted to run back in and break Frank out of there. But he knew it would make things worse.

Joe looked at Fenton again. "So will you tell me?" He asked slowly while fidgeting in his seat.

Fenton thought for a moment. Joe had every right to know what's going on with his brother. It was bad enough that he was being separated from Frank yet again. It would be cruel to keep things from him. That special bond that the two of them share was back stronger than ever.

However Joe was another worry for him. That display of emotions he had shown in the police station meant his level of anxiety was already on the surface. Joe could be unpredictable at times when he wanted to be, especially when it comes to being separated from Frank and knowing he's in trouble.

The only thing Fenton could do at this point was to be straight forward and tell Joe the truth.

"Alright." He rubbed his eyes then ran his hand over his face, he said with a sigh, "Frank just seemed distracted, I know he's got a lot going on in his head, but, I had to keep him focused the whole time he was being questioned."

Fenton kept going leaving out the part of Frank turning down the honors of salutatorian and valedictorian. That was something he felt Frank should be the one to tell Joe.

Joe listen intently as his father began filling him in all Frank had said from his routine this morning, starting with going for his run at 5AM. Joe didn't like that fact Frank didn't have an alibi. He did know the route his brother takes by heart, and every kid in this town knows the shortcut. It's the quickest way to get to the water.

Then Fenton went on to tell him about the gun the police have in their possession. It was the same gun Frank stated he uses anytime he goes to the shooting range. The police believed it's the murder weapon found at the crime scene with Frank's fingerprints on it, he also told Joe about Frank's trip to the shooting range two days before his graduation and Pete.

The startling part Frank had mentioned was the possibility of someone watching him in the last couple of days. The only problem was Frank didn't know if he was just experiencing a bit of paranoia or if someone was actually watching him.

Joe sat back mulling over everything. As far as not alert or aware of his surroundings, that did not sound like his big brother at all. Frank is always alert, knows his surroundings. He's very meticulous about that sort of thing. If he heard the slightest snap of a twig breaking, he's on it checking it out to make sure everything was safe.

Paranoia? No that's not it. Not even close. Joe wasn't going to accept it.

Ever since he found out Frank was dealing with depression and that it was a family trait, Joe had made it a point to read up on depression on the internet. During his sessions with Dr. Reese Joe would ask her questions to better understand it in order to know how to help Frank.

The doctor did answer his questions even though she couldn't talk about what went on during her sessions with Frank due to privacy reasons. And Joe was fine with that, he was just glad she was helping his brother.

Joe still didn't quite understand it all, but maybe Frank's depression wasn't severe...and maybe he just has a lot on his mind... after all aside from being meticulous, Frank is also a very intelligent person, very smart...a thinker, he's a Brainiac...his brain was just overloaded with stuff that needed to be sorted out. And Frank will sort things out his way. That was a part of who Frank Hardy is.

Although Joe had dealt with a bit of mental illness of his own through PTSD and maybe the two aren't quite the same thing. He thought his PTSD had gotten better, that is until the hospital fire...he thought the abuse he endured from Hayden and his abduction and the gun shot to his leg that almost cost him his life was the most terrifying moment for him. But it wasn't, it was the not knowing where Frank was at the time. Before that there was Henry aiming a gun at his brother's head with the intent of killing him.

Joe felt a slight shiver down his spine just thinking about how many times he almost lost his big brother. Having Frank out of his sight is terrifying to him. He didn't want to leave his side. What if something happens...what if the next time...no, no, he shook his head that's not going to happen...he wouldn't let it.

And there was no way his brother was imagining anything, someone had to be watching him. Whoever that someone is had to be connected to Hayden's murder. Until Frank can get himself together and sort things out in his head, Joe was going to look out for him. No way in hell he was going to lose Frank.

"Let's hope Pete did sign Frank's gun back in." Joe concluded with some thoughts of his own. 'However the thing with Pete doesn't make any sense."

"We could go talk to Pete?"

"We?"

"Yeah we, as in you and...me." Joe suggested slowly hoping his father will say yes.

His father just looked at him. Joe knew that look well, it was the same look every time he was about to say no. It was probably on the tip of his tongue. That meant Joe had to act fast he began pleading his case before his father could say that word.

"I'm doing fine, really. Dr. Reese even said so. You can call and ask her." He nodded at the crutches laying down in the backseat. "And physical therapy that's going good too, hardly need my crutches at all." He shifted in his seat to give Fenton his full attention, however the move caused a slight twinge in his leg. He quickly forced that out of his head.

"I'm with you so I can't get into any trouble." Joe added hoping to convince his father. "With Sam working on the other case, you need me. And, this is different this is for Frank. He's in trouble. I want to help."

"So please can I?" He smiled at Fenton.

Fenton suppressed a smile. Joe was good, really good, he'll give him that. He's very smart probably more than he'd like to let on. So full of determination, always ready to debate his reasoning to make sure you see his point of view. He could almost see Joe's detective instincts kicking in.

"Fair enough." He said finally, "As long as you don't overdo it and you do what I tell you."

"Deal." Joe smiled, inwardly he was screaming, yes! Hold on Frank we're going to clear your name yet.

(FJFJFJFJFJF)

A few minutes later Fenton pulled his car into a parking spot in front of the Police Department range. As soon as he got out of the car Joe started to rush to get inside with his crutches, causing his leg to hurt, but then Fenton put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a look, that told him to slow down and take it easy.

Once inside they headed to the reception area on the left side of the room. To the right was a retail area with a display of tee shirts, ball caps with the logo on them hanging on racks. As they approached the desk, a balding, plump middle aged man was sitting behind it eating a bag of potato chips. He swallowed the contents in his mouth and looked up from his computer screen. He smiled when he saw them.

"Well if it isn't Fenton and Joe Hardy!" His boisterous voice boomed out with a laugh. "Its been awhile since I've seen you two here. How you been?" He put the bag of chips on the desk and stood up brushing the crumbs off his Hawaiian shirt.

Fenton sighed wearily. Harry Garrett a retired cop and a nice guy, but can be very outspoken and a bit of a slob. "We're...ah good. Thank you Harry for asking." Fenton managed politely, as he and Joe stepped up to the desk. "I know it's been awhile. We've been busy." He said to put it mildly.

Harry nodded, "I understand, with the hospital fire and all. People are still talking about it." He cast his eyes at Joe's crutches. "Joe, dang, what happened to you?"

Joe raised an eyebrow suddenly feeling a bit uncomfortable. "It's kind of a long story," Joe replied, holding his crutches tightly as he shifted his legs from one to the next.

Fenton stepped in immediately to get the attention off of Joe. "Harry, we're looking for Pete. Is he here?"

"Good Ol' Pete, yeah he's here." Harry answered.

Joe breathed easier grateful to have the attention off him. He really didn't want to explain the ordeal of how he got shot in the leg.

Harry pointed his chubby thumb at a door that led to the shooting range. "He's giving a lesson in one of the shooting booths. They should be done soon. I'm here watching the desk for him."

Fenton nodded. "Okay, thank you." He asked while they waited for Pete. "Harry, were you here on June the 19th, by chance?"

Harry thought for a minute. He scratched his chin, "um, yeah I was here."

"Did you happen to see my other son Frank come in here? It would've been on a Wednesday around 3 in the afternoon."

"Yeah I seen him."

"Really," Fenton replied, " How did he seem to you? Was he acting different? Did you talk to him?" He wanted to get an idea of Frank's behavior from the perspective of the people who were here that saw Frank that day.

"Actually I was leaving when your son walked in. So I didn't have a chance to talk to him, other than a quick hey." Harry recalled. "However, Pete was at the desk, you might want to ask him." Then he knitted his brows together and asked with concern, "Is Frank alright? I hope nothing's wrong. "

"Fenton, Joe?" A male voice cut in before Fenton or Joe could respond to Harry's question.

Joe turned to see a man late thirties with sandy blonde hair, he wore a blue t-shirt with the logo printed on the front and a pair of khaki pants walk in with a bit of a limp. Pete McNeely.

"Hey, good to see you." Pete shook hands with Fenton. Then he extended his hand to Joe.

"It's good to see you, too." Joe replied accepting his handshake. He knew it was impolite but he couldn't help but cast his eyes at the man's prosthetic leg.

He knew Pete use to be a police officer for Bayport PD. And he heard the story from his father. A few years ago Pete was out on patrol during a routine stop, he had pulled over two men in a vehicle for a busted taillight. It turned out the suspects were wanted in several states for outstanding warrants for drug possession. One of the men pulled out a gun during a struggle and shot Pete in the leg. He almost died... thankfully he survived, however he ended up losing his leg. The two men were caught later on and taken to jail. Sadly, Pete had to quit the force, he managed to get a job here at the shooting range to help support his wife and a young son.

Joe looked down at his leg, he felt a little guilty, for it was not that long ago that he had almost shared the same fate. Thankfully he survived and still had his leg intact, but Pete even though he survived his ordeal he still lost a part of himself.

"Ah, Pete, Fenton and Joe came by to see you." Harry's voice boomed out snapping Joe out of his thoughts.

"Ah thank you Harry, and thank you for watching the desk." Pete said. "I can take over now."

'Sure thing." the plump man replied. "I think I'll go grab some lunch." He patted his stomach. With that he left after saying a quick good bye to Fenton and Joe.

"Sorry about that. I needed someone to watch the front desk and Harry offered to help me out." Pete walked around the desk and frown picking up Harry's bag of chips and discarding in the trash can.

"Not a problem." Fenton replied relieved the plump man was gone.

Pete asked turning his attention to the Hardys. ''So, you two wanted to see me about something?"

"We do." Fenton quickly asked him about the 19th of June.

Pete thought for a second. "Yes, I was here, and I saw Frank."

"How did he seem to you?"

"Um, not very talkative at first, kind of quiet, as if he had a lot on his mind. And I could tell something was bothering him. When I asked him if anything was wrong, all he said was he needed to get rid of some frustration. So he came here."

"Is that why you're here? I'm sorry if that's a problem. Frank had asked me, since you weren't with him, if I would supervise him while he shot off a few rounds. I knew he was a responsible young man and I didn't think you'd mind."

"I don't have a problem with that." Fenton replied. "I just have some questions that needs clearing up."

"Did he sign the log to show he was here?"

"Yes,"

"Could we see it?"

Pete gave Fenton and then Joe a curious look. "Sure come with me." He said slowly. He asked another employee to watch the front desk as he took Fenton and Joe through the set of doors he just came from. Following right be hide his father Joe glanced at a side hallway to the left that led to the locker rooms and showers. Then to the right Pete guided them over to a counter sitting right be hide it were showcases many types of guns that can be tried out at the range. There was another set of doors to the right that led to the actual range itself.

Pete walked around and pulled out a large black ledger from under the counter. He placed it on the countertop.

Joe watched Pete flip through a few pages and then stopped, "Ah here we go.' He said pointing at a page. "Frank Hardy signed in on the 19th of June."

Fenton and Joe saw Frank's name on the page. Okay, that's a plus they thought.

"What gun did he sign out?" Joe asked feeling his heart pounding.

"A Glock 22. Like he usually does."

"Frank said he was late for an appointment. He laid the gun on the counter, you told him you'd take care of it." Fenton sighed wearily. He was about to ask the inevitable question. "Did it get signed back in?"

"Let's see." Pete ran his finger across the page then stopped and all at once his face went pale. "Oh no." He gasped. He whirled around to the gun showcases be hide him. His hand went right to an empty spot, 'Oh shit."

'What's wrong?" Fenton asked anxiously. His heart stopped when he saw the hesitation in his friend's eyes. "Pete, we need to know," He braced himself for the bad news that was coming.

Joe didn't like the sound of that. Pete whirled back around to face the Hardys. He let out a heavy sigh as he answered, "The gun is missing."