I’ve been in love with Callie Shaw for as long as I can remember.

It’s never occurred to me that there might be anyone else for me. It’s always been Callie.

And I know it’s got to be hard on her having me as a boyfriend.

First of all, I’m a package deal – Joe comes as an added bonus.

Okay, I have to smile and shake my head at that. Callie would hardly call Joe an ‘added bonus;’ an added ‘bonehead’ maybe, but not a bonus.

The problem between Callie and Joe is, in all honesty, they are too much alike….Hmmm, and maybe me. Moody, emotional, competitive…possessive….Okay, that last one I’m not complaining about too much, as it does give a guy a head rush to know that the two most important people in his life are possessive about him – even if it can be a pain in the butt at times.

Like today.

But I will give them their due. When they’re not busy goading each other, they make a damn formidable team.  Doesn’t happen much…but hey – any time it does, I call it progress!

But deep down, Joe respects how I feel about Callie, and does try and keep the sparring at a minimum. More than once it’s been Callie that I’ve had to kind of say ‘okay that’s enough’ to.

Secondly, my ‘hobby’ isn’t exactly collecting coins or fly fishing…it’s sleuthing.  And with it comes a lot of other undesirables such as…well…danger….

As long as I can remember, Joe and I have been in the thick of things when it comes to a good mystery.  Incidentally enough, the first mystery I ever solved was when I was six-and-a-half (can’t forget the half, cause that’s very important to a growing young man)…and I found my brother.

Joe had been abducted from the carnival while he and I were playing ‘hide and seek’….Damn the Nightingales.

Damn me. I should have never hid from him – not after he called to me.

I’ve never hidden from him since.

Miles is dead. He’s the one who actually abducted and then almost beat my brother to death – turns out some of the guys in jail didn’t appreciate a man who killed kids.  I shiver thinking about how close my brother came to being his and his wife Darla’s, next victim….Victim number nine.

I need to check on Joe.

* * *

As I stand here and watch my brother sleeping I am once again amazed by him…and so very proud of him.

He hasn’t exactly had a great time of it - thanks to that trouble magnet.

But somehow he always manages to push past it and forge ahead. Sure he might have nightmares and demons dogging his steps, but he still picks himself up, dusts off his pants and says, “Okay Frank let’s give it another go…”

I don’t know if I could do that. To be that strong. 

Oh I know Joe thinks I’m his strength; the one who carries him through – but things are different when it comes to my little brother.  I can be whatever he needs.

But for myself?

Sometimes I think, if half the stuff happened to me as does to Joe...well I don’t think I’d ever leave my own room again.

In fact I know I wouldn’t.

Looking at him, I shake my head….I should have pulled the trigger….

* * *

Callie was not impressed when I told her about the stake-out.  She had been hoping that I’d drop over for a couple of hours today and just hang out with her.

And as inviting as that was, I couldn’t. We had already told dad we’d do this for him, and I was not letting Joe go alone.

Too many times I’ve almost lost my brother….Too many times I’ve fought hard to bring him back. 

No, it wasn’t happening. We don’t do these things solo.

Joe and I are a team.

Slamming my hand against his closet door, I swear softly under my breath.

I broke my own credo.

I left him alone.

Shocked by my own outburst, I sigh and look down at my brother’s belongings. I’ve emptied the closet and now have various piles of stuff, not including the clothes that I’ve laid on the bed. But that part is easy – they just have to be hung up again.

The green garbage bag pile has grown considerably…but it’s the “Joe’s Special Crap” pile that I look at the longest – it only has one thing left in it.

I’ve put his first neck brace at the back of the top shelf, and nestled that creepy little box next it - close enough to the front that Joe doesn’t have to take the whole top shelf apart to get at it.

It disturbs me that he does take it down every so often. Just as it disturbs me that he flees to the graveyard from time to time.

But I still respect it. It’s all a part of who Joe is.

There is only one more thing left to put away from that pile…but I am at a loss as to where to put it.

It’s a fish hook – sloppily tied.

* * *

Callie wanted to come on the stake-out.  She said that if I couldn’t come to her place to hang out, then she’d come with me. It would be the same – either way we could hang out.

Oh yeah. I could just imagine that. I have done stake-outs with her and Joe before – not by choice, mind you.  And it was an experience I had no intention of ever reliving…if at all possible.

That car was in no way big enough for the three of us….In fact, I don’t think there has ever been an undercover vehicle large enough to suit that.

Hmmm. Now that would be an interesting project. Design the ultimate stake-out vehicle that could house me, Joe and Callie….Hmmm, must call Phil later.

Anyway, like I said, Callie wanted to go.

Man, that girl can be persistent when she wants to – kind of like a certain brother still sleeping soundly in my bed, mind you!

But he has one major maneuverability advantage over Callie.  When he’s trying to convince me of something absolutely ludicrous…or against all my common sense, he is right there in front of me working my weak spot.

One look into those baby blues, and the proper pout…and I’m done.

Callie doesn’t live in my house, and her pout and gorgeous eyes just don’t work as effectively over the phone, thank God.

But slamming the receiver down in my ear worked almost as well. 

I really hate it when Callie’s mad at me…so yeah, I was a bit distracted on our watch.

* * *

Where the heck do you put a fishhook anyway? My brother doesn’t even own a tackle box!

I’m sitting on the floor next to the closet and looking at the fishhook. I’m wracking my brains trying to figure out why Joe has it.  Sure, we always say we’re going to go fishing, but in all honesty, we haven’t been that much….

Dad always wants to do something with us…but something always comes up.  I think I can count on one hand the number of times we have actually done anything as a family - that have worked out as they were supposed to, anyway.

I mean, Dad gets a loan of a cabin cruiser to take us out for a day on the bay, and Joe and I get in a little more swimming practice than is healthy for small boys - and that’s not even mentioning foiling America’s dumbest crooks - $153,000.00 - hardly seems worth killing or dying for.

Wait a sec…I know this hook.