When they reached home, both boys were silent and thoughtful. Joe was worried about Vanessa’s plan to keep tabs on Dr. Waring; Frank was intent on finding a provable connection between Waring, Crowley, and Darryl Wright’s death. They went into the house, to find places set at the kitchen table and a note from their mother on the counter.

"You want milk?" Joe was already reaching into the refrigerator. He got out milk and a bowl of tossed salad.

"Please." Frank picked up a couple of pot holders, and carefully removed what appeared to be a chicken-noodle casserole from the oven. He carefully set it on trivet on the table. The boys washed up, then sat down to eat. Both were still very quiet.

"You have any trouble getting out of football practice?" Frank finally broke the silence.

"Mmmm-mmmm." Joe shook his head, took a quick drink of milk, then continued. "Coach took one look at my forehead and told me not to practice tomorrow, either. He said Thursday would be soon enough."

"That’s good. You take another crack on the head right away – helmet or no helmet – and you’re just asking for trouble. Bruising of the brain…fracture…"

"Okay, okay, I get the point!" Joe couldn’t help laughing a little, even as he protested. "Man, you sure are gloom-and-doom tonight, big brother!"

"It’s just that we don’t seem to be getting anywhere with this case." Frank replied. "We know what happened. We know who was involved. We are pretty sure they’re going to do it again. And we can’t prove anything!" He sighed, pushed back his chair and got up to put his plate and silverware in the dishwasher. "I have studying to do – gotta read Henry IV."

Joe duplicated his brother’s actions. "And you may not believe it, but I have an essay to write for English. Hmmm, maybe I’ll write about gloomy older brothers, and how wearing they can be to have around —" He dodged Frank’s half-hearted slap, laughing.

***

The next morning both Frank and Joe left early. This time Joe took his motorcycle, and Frank drove the van, although not without a keen glance or two at his brother’s face, making sure Joe was feeling well enough to take the more jarring ride. But Joe waved him off reassuringly, and Frank was forced to concede he looked fine.

***

Megan met him for their shared classes, and they ate lunch together. For once, they didn’t talk much about Gerald Waring or Ted Crowley. Frank did relate some stories from his and Joe’s past cases, reminiscing with both pleasure and distaste. Megan listened wide-eyed, chin resting on her fists, in fascinated absorption. When he finally declined to repeat any more case stories, she told him a little about Lakeridge Academy and her years there. They went to the library for an hour of shared study, working through the assignment for their Criminal Justice class, and then went to the actual class, hand in hand.

When the final buzzer rang, Frank started to head for the parking lots, but Megan turned toward the library again.

"I have to do some more homework," she explained. "I have chemistry to work on, and I’d rather do it here than at home."

Frank frowned. "I don’t like you being here by yourself," he said soberly.

"I’ll be fine in the library, and I’ll go right to my car afterwards," she assured him. "Frank, you can’t put me in a glass bowl and keep me there, you know."

"I could stay too – " he offered.

She shook her head, and her aqua eyes sparkled with mischief. "If you stay, we wouldn’t either of us get any studying done." she teased. "I’ve heard the stories about what goes on in those study carrousels."

Frank blushed. "I didn’t mean – "

"Don’t worry. I’ll try and stay with a group of people when I’m outside the library building, okay? I’ll be really careful going to the parking lot, and all that. Frank, you’re treating me the way you said Joe was treating Vanessa the other night. She didn’t like it, and neither do I."

He looked down at her, frustrated. "Megan, if anything happened to you – and you know Crowley or someone could be watching you – "

"I know." Her voice was even softer than usual. "But I won’t take any chances, I promise." She tiptoed and pulled his face down to hers; kissed the corner of his mouth lightly. "I’ll see you tomorrow at lunch. Good night."