Frank stared at the picture. “Smuff?” he whispered. But it didn’t make any sense! ‘Could Smuff be this ‘partner’ that Iago kept mentioning?’  He gazed at the second man in the picture – wiry and red-haired, ‘or maybe this guy? I don’t recognize him…’

Suddenly feeling chilled, the teen printed out a copy of the picture, snagged it off the printer, closed the computer window and then turned off the monitor.  He glanced around the office once again before slipping out the window to where an anxious Callie was waiting impatiently.

“Well?” she demanded, relief evident on her face at seeing him.  “Did you find anything?”

“Maybe,” Frank said vaguely as his mind was frantically racing, trying to make some sense out of what was going on. He moved towards the passenger side of the car and glanced at his girlfriend.  “Do you mind driving?”

She fixed him with a look as she held out her hand for the keys.  “Why do I have this feeling we aren’t going to the movies?”

Frank looked at her, apologetically, “I’m sorry Callie, but—”

“I know, I know, “she sighed and rolled her eyes.  “Something’s come up!”

“I am sorry,” he repeated sincerely, his dark brown eyes imploring understanding.

The girl shook her head.  “How is it that, no matter what, I just can’t stay angry at you for more than two seconds?”

“I dunno?” Frank admitted and then tried a ‘Joe-line’ on her:  “Maybe because I’m just so damn cute?”  He lifted his eyebrows in his brother’s signature ‘innocent’ look.

Callie laughed and reached out to gently stroke the side of his face, “That might have something to do with it.”  She sighed and looked at him coyly, “You know you owe me big time, don’t you?”

“I know,” he said, briefly putting his hand overtop of hers and closing his eyes, enjoying this moment – mindless of the heavy heat of the slowly darkening night.  ‘She is so beautiful and so understanding. I truly am a very lucky guy…’ He opened his eyes again and promised, “And I will make it up to you!”

“Yes, you will, Mister Hardy,” Callie told him and then reluctantly moved away from him to unlock the car doors.  “So where am I dropping you off this time? Home?”

“Home,” Frank confirmed.  He needed to talk to his father about what he’d found; although he didn’t relish the lecture he was sure would be coming once Fenton realized how he’d gotten the information – but when it concerned Joe, proper protocol became a bit hazy.  Casting a glance at Callie as he reached for his seatbelt, he added fondly, “And people think I’m the sleuth in this relationship!”

The girl smiled, obviously pleased by the compliment, but never said anything.

* * *

Fenton and Laura hurried out of the café, indifferent to the heat this time, and jumped into the car.

“I don’t understand,” Laura admitted as she quickly fastened her seat-belt, started the car and backed out of the parking spot, “Oscar is the guy you’re after?”

Her husband’s face was grim as he nodded curtly and pulled out his cell-phone. “It makes sense in a perverse kind of way,” was all he said as he pressed the autodial – he needed to call Sam and then Ezra!

Drumming the dashboard with the fingers of his injured hand, Fenton waited impatiently as the phone in his house began to ring. “Pick up Sam, pick up,” he muttered, and then let out a relieved sigh when he finally heard the familiar voice on the other end of the line. Cutting to the chase, he just blurted out, “It’s Smuff!”

* * *

Sam was going to kill Joe. That was his first thought as he said hi to Ethel. ‘That was it – the kid had to die!’

[I know this might sound rather forward of me—] Ethel admitted after they’d exchanged greetings [and I know this might be considered rather short notice but…would you like to go to a baseball game tomorrow evening?]

The detective was actually tongue-tied for a moment as his heart just about pounded out of his chest. ‘Was she asking what he thought she was asking—?’

Ethel misread his silence [Oh I’m sorry Sam—] he could hear the embarrassment in her voice and immediately found his own:

“No, it’s me who’s sorry. I just – well – I…it’s been a long time since I’ve been out on date—”  He paused and licked his lips nervously, “it is a date that you were asking me out on it, wasn’t it?”

Again her laughter sounded like music in his ears [Why, Mr. Radley, do I detect a hint of nervousness in your voice?] She continued, not waiting for his answer [And yes it is, if I may be so bold. I was definitely asking you out on a date.].

“Oh, in that case,” Sam was sure his face was so red his head was going to explode.  “Sure – I mean if you’re sure…if you still want to, that is.”  ‘Damn’ he thought, ‘who is this moron talking on the phone and what has he done with the real Sam Radley, smooth talking operative extraordinaire??’

Once more, she laughed [Now more than ever. I don’t think I’ve ever had this kind of effect on a man before! You can pick me up at six.]

“I’ll need your address.”  The man was in disbelief that he’d gotten out an entire phrase without sounding goofy.  Someone buzzed in on the other line and glancing at the call display on the phone receiver he saw it was Fenton.  “Can you hold on for a second?  Fenton is on the other line?”

[I’ll be here] Ethel assured him.

Sam was actually beaming as he clicked over to take the other call. “Hey—” he started when Fenton cut him off:

[It’s Smuff!]

“Smuff?”  The sleuth was a bit confused.  “What’s Smuff?” And then it clicked into place.  “Oh my God!  Where are you now?”

[We’re on our way back to the house – has Smuff come back there yet?]

“Hold on, I’ll check,” Sam said, hurrying towards the front of the house. He looked out the living room window and saw no sign of the silver car. Quickly he moved towards the kitchen; he’d check out that window as well – Smuff might just have been parked a bit further away this time.

Pushing open the kitchen door, he hurried across to the window and confirmed what he’d been afraid of.  “No Fenton, I don’t see his car anywhere.”

[Okay, we’ll be there in about ten minutes. I’ll call Collig and see if he can get another patrol to watch the house. We need to find him and quickly! That bastard has some explaining to do!]

“Big time,” Sam glanced around the small kitchen and frowned. He saw the plate of leftovers on the table and wondered where Joe was. “I’ll see you then.” He started to hang up when he heard Fenton’s voice again:

[By the way, how’s Joe feeling?]

“Good enough to raid the fridge,” Sam quipped and then added, as he moved upstairs to see if Joe had gone back to his room. He already knew the boy wasn’t in the downstairs bathroom because he would have had to pass Sam to get there.  “and to embarrass the living shit out of me!”

[Really?] Fenton chuckled, [What’d he do?]

“How about calling Ethel?” Sam told him as he knocked softly on Joe’s room door before pushing it open.  He paused, a very bad feeling settling over him, amplified when he didn’t find the teen in his brother’s bedroom or their shared bathroom, either. “Um Fenton, I think we might have a problem.”

* * *

Frank reread Iago’s note paying close attention to the last part….Tell Joey that I’m releasing him from his promise.  He can tell what he saw – what he witnessed.  Make sure he understands that, no matter what, it was not his fault and there was nothing he could have said or done that would have changed things.  My partner is a cruel man who enjoyed making the child believe he could have prevented Tex’s horrific death.  But that was just not so…

The teen chewed his lip.  ‘What he witnessed? Okay…so Joe saw something – something that upset him to the point that he tried to kill himself and doesn’t remember it, o-kay…. Not his fault? Why would Joe think it was his fault…unless- unless he was told that it was and that he was somehow responsible for what he saw – what he witnessed.  Hmmm.’  The blood slowly drained from Frank’s face – how had he not noticed it before? There it was, in black and white:  My partner is a cruel man who enjoyed making the child believe he could have prevented Tex’s horrific death.

Joe had witnessed Tex’s murder!

“Ohmygod,” the teen whispered, horrified at the implication as his quick mind played a terrifying game of connect the dots.  “Ohmygod!” With fumbling fingers, Frank pulled out his cell phone and hastily dialed – he had to talk to his father right now!

* * *

Callie glanced across at him, alarmed by how pale and shaky her boyfriend had become. But she never asked Frank what was wrong; not wanting to interrupt the intense concentration she saw on his face – he had found what he was looking for, and obviously not liked it!

Pressing the accelerator a little harder, she sensed his urgency.  Frank needed to get home.