Studying the police photo of Ryan Bender that Sam had procured, Joe noted the wavy, dark blonde hair and hard blue eyes. He couldn’t help feeling as if he had seen the face before, even though he still had no memory of the night Vanessa had been attacked other than bits and pieces of floating memories – or hallucinations. Placing it in the center of the table, Joe listened as his father determined their next move.

"We can’t come out and tell Collig we know for sure that Ryan is here in Bayport since that information was gathered by less than legal means." Fenton surmised. "We also can’t use what you were able to copy off his computer." He continued glancing at Frank. "But everything you got from the landlord, the employees at The Vault and Rick Moreno is fair game. And I think that’s more than enough for him to agree that Ryan Bender should be considered a suspect."

Frank leaned back in the chair and breathed a sigh of relief, happy that the police would finally have someone else to focus on besides Joe.

"Sam and I will go talk to Collig. In the meantime, Frank, I want you to take this picture of Ryan and go back to Joe’s apartment building. Show it to Mr. Doyle and anyone else you can find. See if anyone recognizes him." Fenton concluded standing up. "Stop by Prito’s too, and see if that delivery boy can identify him."

Knowing Joe was about to protest being left out once again, Frank put a pre-emptive hand on his arm in a request for him to remain silent. Not knowing what Frank had in mind, but trusting his brother implicitly, Joe sat back and quietly nodded his agreement. As soon as he was sure Fenton and Sam had left the office, Joe turned to Frank.

"Even if I can’t help you, don’t think for one second I’m going to sit here and twiddle my thumbs while you’re questioning all my neighbors." Joe said with determination.

"I wouldn’t dare." Frank replied. "Dad told me your apartment is no longer considered a crime scene. So if you were to go back there today to get some clean clothes, check your answering machine, pick up the mail…" Frank let his voice fade out, smiling conspiratorially.

"What are we waiting for." Joe enthused. "Let’s get going!"

*****

Joe stood at the door to his apartment, keys in hand. As he reached out to unlock the door, he realized that, other than the five minutes he’d spent here the day of his release from jail, this was the first time he’d be returning since Vanessa had been attacked. And that day he had purposely bypassed the kitchen and headed straight for the bedroom. Not sure what kinds of memories would come flooding back when he stepped inside, he hesitated.

"Joe," Frank asked gently, "Are you all right?"

Frank had checked with Fenton to make sure the kitchen had been thoroughly cleaned ensuring Joe wouldn’t be confronted with the sight of Vanessa’s blood on the floor. Still, he wasn’t quite sure how to convey this information to Joe without upsetting him.

"Yeah, fine." Joe replied a little tentatively. "You’re coming in with me, right?" He threw his brother a pleading look.

"Sure, of course. Just let me know if you want me to leave." Frank assured him.

Nodding, Joe inserted the key in the lock and opened the door. Stepping inside, he paused and looked around, relieved at the absence of flashbacks.

‘So far, so good.’ Joe thought taking a few steps. Looking around he noticed the apartment was spotless and made a mental note to thank his father when he got home.

With Frank just a few steps behind him, Joe gained confidence and walked purposefully towards the kitchen and the flashing red light on the answering machine. Reaching out to press the playback button, Joe caught a glimpse of the butcher block – and the knives it contained – sitting on the counter next to the stove, and his hand stopped in mid-air.

As Joe stared at the knives, mesmerized, a sudden feeling of paranoia reached up from somewhere deep in his soul and wrapped itself around him. His breathing started coming in short, quick gasps. He heard a glass shatter as a piercing scream resonated in his ears. A hand flashed before his eyes, holding a knife covered in blood. And Joe couldn’t help but feel someone was watching him. Watching…waiting…laughing…

"Joe?" Frank called out to his brother, getting no response. Noting the rapid change in Joe’s breathing and panicked look in his eyes, Frank realized immediately what was happening. "Joe! JOE, LOOK AT ME!" Frank yelled, grabbing Joe by the shoulders and shaking him forcefully.

"NO!" Joe cried out. Breaking free, he scurried to the corner of the kitchen where he’d been found the night Vanessa was attacked. With his back to the cabinets, Joe crouched on the floor and looked frantically about the room, caught in a vivid flashback. "No, you won’t get me!" He cried out, raising his hand as if holding knife ready to strike.

Shocked, Frank could only stare as his younger sibling fled from demons only he could see. Quickly regaining his composure, Frank cursed Ryan Bender, swearing he would pay, as he slowly and quietly approached his frightened brother.

"Joe, it’s me. Frank. It’s okay. Everything is okay." With each word, Frank took one more baby step forward until he was crouching on the floor in front of Joe. "Joe, can you hear me?" He asked, now eye to eye with his brother.

After another frantic visual sweep of the room, Joe finally locked in on Frank, staring at him. Slowly, his breathing became less labored, and the glazed look in his eyes disappeared, only to be replaced by confusion – and fear.

"What…what just happened?" He asked nervously.

"You had a flashback." Frank said gently, offering his hand and pulling Joe to his feet. "Do you remember it at all?"

"N-no." Joe replied, still a little shaken. Looking around the kitchen, a shiver ran down his spine. "I need to get out of here." He whispered. "Out of this room."

"Let’s go." Frank wrapped an arm around Joe’s shoulder and led him down the hall to the bedroom, seeing Joe visibly relax the further they got from the kitchen. "Better?" He asked once they stepped into the bedroom.

"Better." Joe nodded in confirmation as he sat on the edge of the bed. Looking up, he saw the concern in Frank’s eyes. "I’m fine now. Really. Go ahead and talk to whoever you have to talk to. I’ll be right here when you’re done." Joe smiled, his hand unconsciously reaching out to grab Vanessa’s pillow. Pulling it back into his lap, he held it tightly, all the while assuring Frank he had no intention of leaving that room until Frank came back for him.

"Okay," Frank responded not entirely convinced. "But if anything happens, if you need me, call." He held up his cell phone as he backed out of the room.

"I will." Joe promised, clutching the pillow to his chest, the heartrending image burned into Frank’s mind as he made his way out of the apartment.

*****

Walking around the complex, Frank was starting to get a little dejected. He had talked to several of Joe and Vanessa’s neighbors and while some of them recalled hearing a woman scream on the night in question, no one recognized Ryan Bender or recalled ever seeing him around. Making his way back to the front of the building, Frank noticed a man in his early thirties unloading a van that was parked several spaces away from where Joe normally parked, directly under the balcony of his apartment.

As he approached the van, Frank could see the gentleman was removing a suitcase and overnight bag from the back of the van.

"Hi." Frank smiled as the man looked up at him.

"Hi, how ya doin’?" he replied amiably.

"Frank Hardy." Frank introduced himself extending his hand in greeting.

"Jack Gilboy." The man returned the greeting. "You’re Joe’s brother, right?"

"Yes, I am."

"Nice guy, your brother. He’s saved me a bundle at the mechanic’s, I’ll tell ya. A whiz with cars."

"Yeah, he can pretty much fix anything with a motor." Frank agreed. "Would you mind if I asked you a few questions?"

"Not at all. What about?"

"Were you home three nights ago? Around six thirty, seven o’clock?" Frank asked.

Jack frowned in concentration before answering. "Yeah, we were still here." He shook his head with a rueful smile. "Wanted to get an early start on our mini-vacation, but you know how women are. Between my wife and the kids our early start turned into three hours late!"

Frank laughed agreeably, before launching into his next question. "Did you see or hear anything unusual that night?"

"Hmm…no I don’t think…wait a minute. Yeah, that was the night I saw Joe climbing down the balcony."

"Climbing DOWN the balcony?" Frank repeated, his antennae going up, as he suddenly recalled Con’s comment about the sliding glass door being open. True, Joe and Vanessa always left it open in warm weather, but that afforded the perfect getaway for someone wanting to leave the apartment without using the door.

"Yup, down. I waved to him, even yelled, but I guess he didn’t hear me. Never even turned around. Just climbed down the balcony and walked down the street." Jack pointed in the direction the fleeing figure had gone. "Then again, the kids had the CD player turned up and they were arguing about what songs they wanted to hear, so like I said, he probably didn’t even hear me."

"Why would he climb down the balcony? Why not just use the front door?" Frank mused.

"Beats me." Jack shrugged, shutting the hatch on the rear of the van and picking up the suitcases. "Like I said, your brother is a nice guy and all but he does some pretty crazy things."

"Did you see this man around at all that night? Or at any other time that you can recall?" Frank asked holding out the picture of Ryan.

Jack scrutinized it carefully before shaking his head. "Nope. Never seen him."

"Are you sure? Is it possible this is the man you saw climbing down the balcony?" Frank questioned, keeping his voice neutral.

Taking another long look, Jack sighed. "You know, since he didn’t turn around, I never really got a good look at his face. I just assumed it was Joe, ya know? I mean who else would it be? But I guess it could just as easily have been him."

"One more question?" Frank asked hopefully.

"Shoot."

"What was this guy wearing when you saw him climbing down the balcony?"

Jack squeezed his eyes shut, deep in thought for a moment. "Black jeans, a black jacket and a baseball cap." He opened his eyes and grinned at Frank. "Pretty good memory, huh?" He congratulated himself.

"Very good memory." Frank agreed. "Thanks for your help, Jack."