Joe bolted upright in bed, his breathing coming loud and fast. His heart was racing and his hands were shaking badly.

‘The dream!’ he thought, terrified.

He knew immediately it was the same dream that had left him paralyzed with fear just a few nights ago. But this time he remembered bits and pieces…

‘Deserted street. Walking alone. Lots of fog. Where was everyone? The screams!’ he inhaled sharply, his breath catching in his throat. ‘Vanessa!’ He quickly turned and looked down at the sleeping form next to him. The dream was so real he half expected her not to be there. He reached down and brushed a lock of hair off her face, letting his fingers linger there. ‘There was more.’ He closed his eyes, concentrating. ‘Running towards the screams. Faster. Turned the corner and saw…’ His eyes flew open.

The horror he had felt in the dream came rushing back. He could swear he felt his heart stop for just a second. What had he seen? He tried desperately to remember, but nothing more came back to him.

‘The subconscious protects you from things that it deems too traumatic to remember.’ He heard his father’s words from just a few nights ago.

Joe shook his head as if doing so would dislodge the haunting images in his mind. He slid back under the covers and pulled Vanessa close to him, holding her tightly.

"You, ok, babe?" she murmured, more asleep than awake.

"Yeah, fine." He whispered, stroking her hair.

‘He’s lying. That dream again?’ She thought vaguely before sleep overtook her once again.

The insistent beeping of the alarm clock came much too early for Joe. After the terrifying nightmare that had awakened him in the night he had found it difficult to go back to sleep, fearing a return of the awful images as soon as he closed his eyes. It had been close to two hours before he fell asleep once again.

Rolling over, he pulled the covers up over his head in an effort to block out the annoying sound. Seconds later there was blissful silence. Joe told himself to get up as Frank was planning to pick him up earlier than usual, but succeeded only in talking himself back to sleep. He felt as if he had been asleep for only seconds when the smell of coffee began to bring him around. A hand gently pushed the hair off his face, which was followed by a kiss on the cheek.

"Joe. You need to get up, hon. Frank will be here soon." Rolling over he opened his eyes. Vanessa was seated on the edge of the bed, smiling down at him. "I brought you some coffee. I thought you might need it." She said with just a touch of concern.

Sitting up, he leaned back against the headboard. Taking the coffee, he took a few sips and rested his head back, closing his eyes.

"Was it the same dream?" Vanessa asked softly, brushing another lock of hair off his forehead.

"No," he lied, keeping his eyes closed. He knew if she could see his eyes, she would know he was lying. He did not want to tell her the dream he’d had was about her. He could still hear her screams echoing in his head.

Sensing he did not want to talk about it, she leaned forward and kissed him once again. "I have to get in to work early today. The new graphics program I was so excited about has been nothing but trouble. The tech support guys are meeting me first thing to see if we can figure out what’s wrong with it. I’ll see you tonight."

Eyes still closed, Joe reached out and pulled her into him, hugging her tightly.

"Have a good day." He kissed her. "And be careful, huh?" he added softly, thinking not only of the shocking nightmare but the stranger who had attempted to "help" Vanessa the night before. "I love you."

"I love you too, hon. And I’ll be careful." She assured him, returning the warm embrace.

After she left, Joe finished his coffee, took a quick shower and was waiting in the lobby of the apartment building when Frank arrived less than thirty minutes later. Seeing his brother turn into the parking lot, he stepped out of the lobby and walked to the car just as Frank was getting out. Seeing Joe approach the car, Frank stared at him.

"What?" Joe said, slightly annoyed. "Did I grow another head or something?"

"No. It’s just…usually I have to lean on the buzzer for five minutes before you even acknowledge that I’m here." He said nervously. His father had been right. He hadn’t been with Joe more than thirty seconds and Joe could already sense he was acting differently.

"Vanessa made sure I was up before she left for work, so you can thank her." Joe replied getting in the car. When Frank didn’t immediately follow, he leaned over and knocked on the driver’s side window. "Are you coming or am I going solo today?" he said, starting to get irritated. ‘What’s his problem? Man, this is gonna be a long day.’

Frank opened the door and got in, staring straight ahead. "I just thought Vanessa might need a ride to work since her Jeep is in the shop."

"She took my car."

Now Frank turned and looked at his brother. "You let her drive your baby?" He leaned over and put the back of his hand on Joe’s forehead. "Do you have a fever or something?" Six months earlier, Joe had purchased a brand new Mustang loaded with every available option. He hadn’t let anyone else behind the wheel of his beloved car since the day he drove it off the lot.

"Ha, ha." He replied, shoving Franks hand aside. "She promised she’d be very careful and wouldn’t let anything happen to it. I trust her."

"If you said that with a little more enthusiasm I might actually believe you." Chuckling, Frank envisioned his brother going over every inch of the car with a magnifying glass after Vanessa got home that night.

"Just drive." Joe said tiredly, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. "Wake me up when we get there."

"Tired? That’s what you get for keeping Vanessa up late on a weeknight." Frank teased.

"You’re just full of it today, aren’t you? For your information, I’m tired because I didn’t sleep well last night. That’s all."

"Why didn’t you sleep well?" Frank asked immediately concerned.

Joe considered telling Frank about the dream he’d had the night before, then decided against it. For some unknown reason he was already acting weird this morning and Joe didn’t want to give him anything else to start worrying about.

"I just didn’t, that’s all. Does there have to be a reason?"

"There usually is. Did you have a nightmare? Was something bothering you before you went to sleep? That guy that tried to help Vanessa maybe?" Frank tried to keep the increasing worry out of his voice.

‘Sounds like as good a reason as any.’ Joe thought. "Yeah, that must be it. Can I take a nap now?"

"Sure, go ahead. I’ll wake you up when we get there." Frank replied. ‘I hope to God he didn’t dream about that weekend.’

As Joe drifted off into a light sleep, he tried to convince himself Frank’s reasoning was correct. However, his gut instinct told him it didn’t even scratch the surface. He knew the nightmare he’d had came from something buried deep inside and he was deathly afraid that with time, whatever it was would come exploding back to the surface.

As Frank drove, he frequently glanced at his brother sleeping in the seat next to him. Truth be told, he had not slept well either, tossing and turning all night unable to stop thinking about everything his parents had revealed to him the night before. His parents had warned him not to say anything that might cause Joe to start asking questions.

He didn’t know how he was going to keep his emotions under control so as not to arouse Joe’s suspicions.

Incredibly, even though she had retired several years earlier, his father had been able to track down Dr. Lange late the previous evening. She had remembered Joe very well and advised him they should not say or do anything that would cause Joe to become wary of them. She said it was imperative that they all act normally around him. If he were going to remember the events of that weekend, he would have to do it on his own. If he didn’t, it meant he was still not ready to accept what had happened. To force him to remember, or tell him outright what had occurred seventeen years ago, could have devastating consequences.

Frank drove slowly, taking almost an hour to arrive in Kirkland. He found he was grateful that Joe slept the entire trip as it gave him the time he needed to compose himself. Pulling up to the front of the old quarry, Frank got out of the car and opened the gate. The quarry had been closed down several years earlier and the lock that was supposed to keep people out had rusted long ago allowing anyone who gave a gentle push on the gate to have full access.

Returning to the car, he found Joe awake and looking out the window, surveying their surroundings.

As Frank drove past the gate Joe leaned forward, looking at the mountains of deteriorating gravel and sand. The quarry had closed abruptly and been left to the mercy of elements over the years, which had not been kind.

"Man, this place is desolate." Joe remarked.

"Can you check the police report and tell me exactly where to go?"

"Yeah, I can tell you where to go." Joe grinned wryly, examining the police report. Without looking up he said, "You set yourself up for it." mimicking his brothers words from the day before.

"We can’t possibly be related." Frank muttered. "You must have been switched at birth with my real brother. That will be my next case; finding my real brother."

"Up here on the right." Joe said, becoming serious once again.

Frank pulled to a stop beside a mountain of gravel and Joe got out of the car. Yellow police tape fluttered in the breeze telling him they were in the right location. Yawning and stretching his 6-foot frame, he glanced around at their surroundings.

"I don’t know what they think we can find here now." He said as Frank joined him. "It’s been what – over a week? Since then it has rained and snowed not to mention all the wind we had yesterday."

"I know. If there was anything here, it’s long gone by now." He sighed.

After a quick, but thorough search, Frank and Joe were back in the car on their way to the next crime scene. Ironically, the Kirkland Courthouse had recently moved into newer, more spacious quarters and the fifth rape had taken place at the site of the old courthouse.

After another frustrating search that yielded no new information, the brothers decided to stop for lunch before heading back to Bayport. Stopping at a small restaurant they had eaten at several times in the past, they ordered burgers, fries and sodas.

As they waited for their food to arrive, they noticed a young woman with a little boy in a booth on the other side of the small restaurant. The little boy was growing increasingly agitated when he didn’t get everything he wanted. His outbursts grew progressively worse until the other diners were glaring at the woman and her crying son. Embarrassed, she paid the bill and got out of the booth, telling her son it was time to go home. This was not what the little boy wanted to hear and he immediately launched into a very loud temper tantrum. Taking his hand, his mother attempted to lead him out of the restaurant amidst stares from other patrons. When he sank to his knees, wailing at the top of his lungs, she dragged him several feet unaware he was being so uncooperative.

Watching the scene, Frank shook his head and laughed. "That makes me want to put off having kids for many, many years!" he joked. When he didn’t get the expected sarcastic reply from Joe, he turned to look at his younger brother and gasped.

Joe was staring at the young mother and her child in sheer terror. "No" he whispered, his blue eyes wide with fear. "Let him go. Please don’t hurt him anymore."

Realizing his brother was flashing back to that horrifying weekend, but unsure of what to do, Frank reached across the table and gently touched Joe’s arm. Joe flinched, pulling away as if he’d been shot, and scooted back as far as he could into the corner of the booth.

"Joe?" Frank said, gently. "Are you ok?"

Joe stared at the woman and child a few seconds longer, then shook his head and blinked several times, finally focusing on Frank. "Did you say something?"

"No." Frank swallowed hard, realizing Joe had no idea what had just taken place.

"Where’s our food? I’m starving." Joe asked looking around for their waitress.

A moment later, she appeared with their orders, flirting with the brothers as she placed their food on the table. As Joe shamelessly flirted back, she cast a disapproving glance at Frank who hadn’t spoken a word, then looked down noticing his wedding ring.

"Ah, the wedding ring." She said knowingly. "Happens every time. They get married and their flirting skills go right down the drain." She said to Joe conspiratorially. Glancing at his hands she continued, "I see you’re not married."

"Engaged." Joe smiled. "Sorry."

"My loss." She replied. Leaning over she whispered. "If it doesn’t work out, you know where I am." Straightening up, she cast another glance at Frank. "He really needs to lighten up." She muttered as she walked away.

For the first time Joe noticed the strange look on Franks face. Rolling his eyes, he said, "You’re doing it again!"

"Huh? Doing what?" Frank asked, aware he had been paying no attention to what was going on around him. He’d been so concerned about what just happened with Joe, he hadn’t heard one word of the exchange between the waitress and his brother.

"Staring at me again. What’s with you today?"

"Nothing." He stammered. "Just zoned out for a minute I guess. This case just has me really confused. Let’s talk about something else for a while. What are you and Vanessa doing this weekend?" He said, hoping to steer his brother’s attention away from his unusual behavior. To his relief, Joe enthusiastically told him what he and Vanessa had planned for the upcoming weekend.

Frank managed to cover his apprehension for the rest of the meal and the drive back to Bayport. After dropping Joe off at home, he went straight to his parent’s house.

"Dad." He called out walking in the front door. "You home?"

"In here." His father answered from the kitchen.

Frank walked through the swinging door and found his father peering at the microwave oven. Looking at his son, Fenton shrugged his shoulders. "Your mother had a meeting tonight. I’ve been left to fend for myself."

"Uh, oh. That’s not good." Frank smiled. He recalled the time his mother had gone away for a week and he and Joe had ended up eating fish sticks every night, as it was the only thing their father knew how to prepare.

"So how did it go today." Fenton pushed a few buttons on the microwave and turned back to Frank. "Find anything new?"

"No, nothing."

"I hear a ‘but’ coming."

Frank pulled out a chair and sat at the kitchen table indicating his father should do the same.

"Joe had another…incident…today."

Fenton put his elbows on the table and rested his forehead against his clasped hands. Recalling how distraught his father had been the night before, Frank waited patiently until he composed himself.

"What happened?" he asked quietly.

"We stopped for lunch and there was a woman there with a little boy, her son I assume. The little boy apparently wasn’t having a good day and kept crying and screaming every time he didn’t get his own way. When they were leaving the restaurant he threw a major tantrum. She was holding his hand but wasn’t really watching him. He kind of let his legs go out from under him and she ended up dragging him a few feet before she realized what was going on."

"And Joe saw a small child being dragged away, screaming."

"Exactly."

"How did he react?"

"He got the same look in his eyes again. And he said ‘No. Let him go. Please don’t hurt him anymore.’ Dad, he was terrified."

"Then what happened?"

"I wasn’t sure what to do. I reached out and touched his arm. He pulled away from me and scrambled as far back into the booth as he could. He looked at me with such…fear. I mean he was looking at me, but he was obviously seeing someone else."

Fenton closed his eyes and was assaulted with memories of the day he had finally found Joe. When the police had raided the house where the child pornography ring was headquartered, Fenton frantically looked through several rooms before he finally found his little boy huddled on the floor in the corner of a bedroom. When Joe saw his father, he had literally leapt into his arms. Fenton could still feel Joe’s tiny hands clutching him and holding on for dear life. Once Joe was safely in his father’s arms, he refused to let go. When Fenton had to surrender his son to the emergency room doctors, Joe’s heartbreaking cries for his Daddy could be heard all the way into the waiting room.

"Dad?" Frank said softly, putting a comforting hand on his fathers shoulder.

Opening his eyes, Fenton gave him a weak smile. "Go on. What else happened?"

"That’s pretty much it. A few seconds after that he blinked a few times and asked me if I had said anything. He had absolutely no idea what he had just done."

"I’m not sure if that’s good or bad. He’s remembering when something specific triggers it, but on a conscious level he’s still blocking it out." He shook his head wearily. "He shouldn’t be working on this case, but we can’t give him any logical reason for pulling him off it."

"Don’t worry, Dad. I’ll keep an eye on him." He said, sensing his father needed him to be the strong one.

"I know you will, Frank." He smiled gratefully. "I just hope if and when he does remember we’re there. If he’s with Vanessa or, God forbid, alone…" he exchanged a look with Frank. Neither of them wanted to think about what would happen should Joe remember those three days when he was all alone.