Three hours later Frank was boarding a plane for Los Angeles. ‘I’m gonna get dizzy flying back and forth across the country’ he thought.

His father had told him everything he knew, which was only a little, as Joe hadn’t talked to his father much, even though they were living under the same roof. He had known that Joe was tracking Frazer through an ex-mob hit-man, Jake Falucci that Frank and Joe used as a contact on the west coast.

As the plane made its way across the night sky Frank had more time to think. He thought back over the last few months.

Joe had moved home for a while, and Vanessa and he were planning on getting an apartment together in Bayport. Vanessa had recovered surprisingly well. She was going to counseling and the unconditional support she received from Joe had also helped her greatly.

It was Vanessa who had called him, late one night when Joe was asleep. She wanted Frank to know that she didn’t hold a grudge, she didn’t hold him responsible and that deep down, she knew that Joe didn’t either. They had talked on the phone for an hour, and had ended the conversation with the promise that they would keep in touch.

And they had. Frank rang Vanessa every other day to hear news about Joe, what he was up to, how he was. Sometimes Joe had answered the phone and they had talked a little, although it was stilted, like the conversation that casual acquaintances not brothers would have.

‘We drifted apart’ Frank thought to himself as he looked out the window of the airplane at the purple tinted evening sky. He gave a little wry smile at this. ‘If only it were that simple’ Thinking back yet again to the horrible night in the woods and the events that had unfolded, Frank drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

***

He awoke six hours later as the plane was touching down at Los Angeles International Airport. Twenty minutes later he was in a rental car on the freeway, heading for one of the cities darker downtown areas. He had purposely rented a dark older model, inconspicuous car so that he wouldn’t draw any unnecessary attention to himself.

Frank knew exactly where he was going, a certain lap dancing club where Jake Falucci was known to spend his evenings. He doubted that Jakes routine had changed much in the last two years; he was a creature of habit, a big, slow witted bald man who had once worked for a notorious mob boss on the East Coast but had pulled out after a planned ‘hit’ went wrong.

Frank hadn’t seen Falucci since the time Evan Frazer had kidnapped Callie. He didn’t like to think back to that time, however.

Locking the car door, Frank walked in the door of the ‘Angel Eyes’ club. It took him a couple of seconds to adjust to the darkness, but he soon spotted the rotund figure of Falucci salaciously stuffing a 20 dollar note into the hand of a young and extremely busty blond.

Frank made his way over to the table. Falucci looked up, recognized the older Hardy and immediately took off out a back door as if he’d seen his worst enemy.

Frank was quick to react however, and took off after him, soon catching up with Falucci as he made his way through the kitchen.

"What’s wrong, Jake aren’t you pleased to see me?" Frank’s voice dripped with sarcasm as he slammed the larger man against a wall.

"You Hardy’s ain’t nothing but trouble" Falucci had his head pressed against the wall and his arm was caught in a vice like grip by Frank.

"My brother was in here a while back, asking about Arnold Frazer, wasn’t he?" "Tell me what you told him?"

"I thought you too were inseparable" Falucci sneered.

"Just tell me" Franks voice was low but extremely menacing.

"He wanted to know where Frazer was, and I told him" Falucci felt the grip on his arm relax. He took a card out of his pocket and handed it to Frank. That’s Frazer’s last known address, its out in Nevada, near the Grand Canyon.

"You’d better be telling me the truth" Frank growled, taking the piece of paper.

"I am Frank, I swear" said Falucci, a little, no a LOT scared of this new, angry Frank Hardy.

Frank Hardy turned to walk away but Falucci stopped him.

"Uh, Frank, Joe was pretty mad, I mean, madder than you are now."

"I know" said Frank, letting out a deep sigh. "That’s why I’m going after him."

Falucci continued; "He got a gun off me, a semi automatic to be exact." "I think he could be heading for a whole lotta trouble.

Frank Hardy didn’t say anything, but his mind was reeling as he left the restaurant. A gun?

Suddenly Frank knew that his baby brother wasn’t a baby any longer and that Frank’s role as minder and protector was outdated.

The air outside the restaurant seemed heavier bearing down on his head and on his chest with incredible force, making it difficult to breathe. Somehow the noise that was all around him seemed to have stopped at the mention of the word GUN and what it implied.

There was no going back now. Frank knew that Joe had made the decision to kill Frazer. What he didn’t know was if his brother would actually go through with the plan. He hoped not, but still he could feel the dread coming across him as he made his way back to the car.