"For what?" Joe asked calmly, noticing Chief Collig's eyes narrowing as he looked at Agent Patrick.

"For making an illegal U-turn," Patrick answered.

Joe laughed.  "That would get me a ticket, not arrested," Joe stated.

"You ran away before a ticket could be issued," Patrick told him firmly.  "That warrants an arrest."

"I don't think so," Joe replied, staring coldly into the agent's eyes.  He lifted up his fingers and starting counting reasons why not.  "You were following me.  You had no light on, or in your car, to signal me to pull over so you could issue me a ticket.  And since when do bureau agents issue traffic citations?"

"I think you are stepping out of bounds," Chief Collig told Patrick, hurriedly rising and going to stand between him and Joe.

"The only evidence you have against Jim was something written in Devon's diary, correct?" Joe asked Patrick after he had moved away from him and Chief Collig.

"How do you know what kind of evidence we have?" Patrick demanded, staring at Joe.

"I have my sources," Joe replied, revealing nothing.  He pulled Mrs. Barley's datebook from his pocket and handed it to Chief Collig.  "Mrs. Barley kept note of everything concerning Jim," Joe continued.  "His whereabouts are listed for the week of Devon's murder in that book.  Mrs. Barley never left her son alone.  Jim didn't have the opportunity to kill Devon."

"It's been faked," Patrick sneered.

"Take it to Forensics," Joe suggested.  "They will be able to prove the ink is old.  I wonder," he added, smiling at Agent Patrick, "if your diary entry could survive the same test?"

Chief Collig opened his office door and handed the datebook to the officer at the desk.  He ordered the testing to be done immediately.

Twenty long minutes later, Chief Collig jumped when the phone rang.  The tension between Joe and Patrick was becoming unbearable.  He was relieved to hear Officer Henricks voice from Forensics on the other end.  A couple of minutes later, he hung up the phone.

"I'll have Jim released immediately," the Chief told Joe, who let out a relieved sigh.

"Patrick jumped to his feet.  "You can't do that!" he shouted at Chief Collig.

"Oh, but I can," Chief Collig said softly.  He, too, had developed a dislike for the man.  "Joe's evidence was more concrete than yours."

Agent Patrick glared at Chief Collig, then turned to Joe.  "This isn't over," he said.  "Whoever killed that child will be caught, no matter how respectable others believe him to be."

"And that is the first thing you have ever said with which I agree," Joe replied.  He looked back to the chief.  "I'll go get Mrs. Barley and we'll pick Jim up in the front."  Chief Collig nodded his approval and Joe left the office.

Patrick followed Joe without bothering to bid Chief Collig goodbye.  Joe headed down to the visitation area but stopped outside and turned to look at the agent.  His blue eyes icy, Joe demanded, "How long are you going to follow me?"

Agent Patrick swallowed, suddenly not quiet so sure of himself.  "Look, I admit we got off to a bad start," he told Joe.  "But I think we're after the same thing."  Joe raised his eyebrows questioningly.  "Devon's killer."

"I'm listening," Joe said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Devon's diary was the first break we've had on this case in three years," Patrick told Joe.  "When you arrived wanting to know about Barley, I assumed you may have known something about the murder.  And when you admitted to knowing Devon too, I guess I jumped to conclusions."

"Are you apologizing?" Joe asked, trying to conceal his amusement.

"Yeah," Patrick admitted.  "Look," he continued.  "The diary is obviously a wash, so we're back where we began, with nothing.  Maybe you, since you did know Devon, could come up with a reason someone would want him dead."

"I wouldn't say the diary was a wash," Joe told him.

"Huh?" Agent Patrick asked, confused.

"Devon's been dead for three years and his diary magically appears in his bedroom with an entry which put Jim behind bars," Joe told him.

"What are you saying?" Patrick demanded, his eyes narrowing.

"Get Forensics to check the entry in the diary," Joe told him.  "If it is recent, then someone is afraid of something.  Otherwise," he added, "why try to frame Jim for the murder now?"

The door opened behind Joe and Mrs. Barley came out, tears streaming down her cheeks.  "They took him away," she told Joe.  "We had an hour left but they took him away."

"It's okay," Joe told her soothingly, wrapping his arms around the sobbing woman.  "They're releasing him."  Mrs. Barley looked up at Joe, her eyes wide in a mixture of disbelief and surprise.  "We're picking him up out front."

"What?" she asked, breathlessly.

Agent Patrick put a hand on Joe's shoulder.  "Joe makes a pretty good detective," he told her, then squeezed Joe's shoulder and turned and left.

"He really gets to come home?" she asked Joe.  He nodded, smiling at her.  "It's over," she said softly to herself, but Joe heard.

"I don't think so," he said gently with a frown.

"What?" Mrs. Barley demanded, worry spreading over her features again.

"Someone tried to frame Jim," Joe told her.  "We have to find out who--which means, finding out why."

"You can do it," Mrs. Barley told Joe as he led them toward the front to pick up Jim.  "I know you and your brother can."

"We'll do our best," Joe promised her.

They picked Jim up, who gave, first his mother and then Joe, each a bear hug, then went outside and got into the van.  Jim was excited and told his mother and Joe all about his experience in jail.  Joe, driving out of town and pulling onto the interstate was relieved to see he was no longer being followed.  'Maybe Agent Patrick was serious about his plea to work together,' Joe thought.

A few miles down the road, Joe took the exit nearest the Barley's home.  It started raining so Joe flipped on his wipers and slowed down a bit.  He hated driving in the rain at night.  Rounding a curve, he saw headlights in his lane.  He swung the wheel hard to the right, knowing there was an open field but as his front wheels started off the road, they both blew out and the van went into a spin. 

Joe fought for control as Mrs. Barley screamed in terror.  Jim had gone quiet, knowing something was wrong.  Just when Joe thought he had control of the van, a shot rang out, blowing a rear tire and the van, instead of hitting the open field on their right, crashed into and through the small guard rail on the left.  The van rolled over four times as it went down the embankment before coming to a stop at the bottom of the ravine.

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