It wasn’t working on the case that he found so upsetting; it was watching his brother unravel. Frank was becoming consumed with finding Nash. He’d spend hours methodically going over every scrap of paper, every piece of evidence, every possible lead there could be. Joe didn’t need to know WHY—if the situation was reversed, he’d be the same way. This one …person…had almost destroyed his brother’s life, and he hoped against hope that Frank wouldn’t allow him to fully destroy it now.

Joe had spent the last few days trying to get his brother to sleep, to eat, to do something to indicate that he knew this was a team effort. On more than one occasion, Joe remembered seeing his father look at Frank with great concern, thinking the same things he was. Frank wouldn’t even visit Callie in the hospital, something so inexplicable to Joe that he couldn’t even fathom it. Inadvertently, Joe flashed back to a conversation that he had with Frank only last night.

But Frank hadn’t answered. Now, Joe found himself in the position that he knew his brother had been in many times before—worrying that his sibling was finally going to fly off the handle, once and for all.

With a sigh, Joe got out of the car and slammed the door shut. He’s been through so much already…we all have. PLEASE…let this be the end.

As Joe got on the elevator and pressed the button for the floor where Callie’s room was, he found himself wishing that he’d taken the time to think of a plan before he got here. Vanessa was supposed to have picked Callie up, but Joe had insisted. He needed to see her, and he knew he had no right to. Somehow, some way, he was praying that Callie would be able to help him bring Frank back to the land of the living. He realized it was probably wrong to ask her, given everything that had happened, but he had to try. If there was one person who could talk sense into his brother, it was Callie.

Joe stepped off the elevator and stopped outside Callie’s room. Great—now what? He took a moment to chide himself for not taking the time to think in advance...to not be his brother. Callie would be returning to the apartment she shared with Frank, but he had no idea for how long. Vanessa had told her about Nash and what he’d done to her, apparently, and she hadn’t taken it well. What more does she have to go through? He asked himself silently.

Taking a deep breath, Joe entered the room and found himself looking at Callie, who was sitting on the edge of her bed waiting for her ride. Wearing jeans and a sweatshirt that were now hanging loosely on her, and having her long hair pulled back in a ponytail, Joe realized just how young she looked at that moment. And …hopeless. She looks defeated. He almost had to turn away. This person was not the Callie he had come to know over the years.

"Hey," he said at last, moving over next to her. He sat down on the bed.

Startled, Callie looked up at him. "Oh, hi. Is Vanessa coming?" Her voice was quiet, small…like a child’s.

"No," he said, feeling his heart ache at the look in her eyes. "I wanted to come and get you myself. I... I thought we might talk." I sound like an idiot! he realized, and changed his tactic. "I wanted to make sure you were okay." Well, there. That was the truth.

Callie raised a trembling hand to her temple and rubbed her head. "No, Joe. I’m not."

Instinctively, Joe reached out for Callie and wrapped an arm around her. He expected her to pull away, to try and disassociate from anyone related to Frank. Instead, she looked at him for a moment and then burst into tears. Her shoulders were trembling and her bottom lip was quivering. "Oh, Callie," he said softly as he pulled her into his arms. "I’m so sorry."

Joe held her for what seemed to be a long time and he felt his own heart breaking. Callie was too good of a person, too kind and innocent, to have the horrors inflicted upon her that she had. He couldn’t even imagine what it was like to lose your child and your future spouse, to have your whole world turned upside down, to feel abandoned and alone. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. He shared a bond with Callie that no one else would ever understand—the unyielding love for his brother. And he had abandoned them both. The difference was he was getting over it. Callie wasn’t. Holding her, he was beginning to doubt if she ever would.

Slowly, Callie pulled away from him, trying to dry her eyes. She was pale and weak and, he could tell, still in some physical pain as well. Before he could say anything, she spoke.

"Thanks, Joe," she whispered. "I…I needed that."

Reaching for her hand, Joe took it and squeezed it, continuing to hold it as he spoke with her. "I am here for you-always, Callie. Please believe that."

Turning to him, her dark eyes shining with tears, she said softly, "I don’t believe in always anymore."

"Oh, Callie," he sighed. "I can’t even begin to understand the terrible pain you’ve been through. I’m so sorry about…the baby…" He felt awkward even saying it.

Squeezing his hand, she replied, "Why? Why, Joe? Why did he do it? I just made one mistake…I took some stupid pictures. If he wanted to kill me, fine. But why-my baby?!" Callie’s voice was choked with sobs.

"I don’t know," Joe said honestly and released her hand. Quickly he hugged her and kissed her cheek. "But I PROMISE you…no matter what the consequences are…we’ll find him, Cal, and make him pay."

"It won’t be enough," she whispered.

"I know," Joe replied. What could he say? It was the truth.

"I want to go home, Joe," Callie said at last, numbly.

"I’ll take you. You can go back to the apartment and rest."

"No," she said, cutting him off. "Home. To Bayport. I…I can’t deal with school now. I can get a leave of absence. And, you know, the apartment’s there, and…"

"And Frank," he said

She nodded, weakly.

"Cal, I know this isn’t my place…" Man, he hated even saying this. It really WASN’T his place. Still, he was gonna try. "Callie, I just want you to know. I mean, Frank’s really sorry. He…he loves you, more than you know. He…"

"Stop."

"What?!"

"I said stop," she repeated, and held up her hand. She met his eyes, and stood up weakly. Joe noticed how she still kept a hand on her stomach, as if trying to make the nightmare go away.

"I’m sorry," he found himself saying.

"Joe, I will not do this. I won’t." She was trembling, and the pain in her eyes was so deep Joe didn’t have the heart to interrupt her. "Your brother accused me of cheating on him—with you, of all people. He…he called me horrible, unimaginable names. I felt like I was dying. For months…MONTHS, Joe… he was thinking I betrayed him and feeling that I was his worst enemy…all while I was PREGNANT, with his child, and loving him more than I loved anything in the world."

"I know," Joe said weakly. "Do you really hate him that much?"

Tears streaming down her face, Callie looked at Joe. "No. I love him that much, and that’s why everything is unbearable. I don’t have a life anymore, Joe—don’t you see that?!" She threw up her hands for emphasis, sobbing. "I have no child, no future husband, no best friend. When we broke up, and I lost Frank, I lost everything good in my life. Here—give him this." Calming herself down, Callie reached onto her finger and removed her engagement ring, holding it out to Joe. "I…I don’t know how I got this. I know...I mean, I THINK I do, that I gave it back to Frank." She held out the ring to him.

"He gave it back to you," Joe said quietly, "because he loves you."

"How do you get past what…he did?" Callie asked him. Defeated, she sat down again next to him.

"Because I love him. Because he made horrible choices, but he’s a good, decent person, and he’ll learn from them. Because if anyone in this life ever deserved a break, it’s my brother."

Slipping her ring into Joe’s hand, Callie whispered, shakily, "Sometimes the consequences of our actions can never be forgiven." She looked into his eyes. "And you understand that."

Joe paused for a full minute before answering. "Yes…I do."

Slipping an arm around her, Joe helped Callie up and guided her to the elevator. She deserved some comfort, and time to grieve. "I’m taking you home, sis," he said, without thinking.

Callie just looked at him and smiled sadly.

*****

"I don’t understand it, Pete!" Fenton said in frustration to the detective from the Cape May police force. "We’ve been working for days…months, really, when you think about it…and we can’t seem to get a lead on this guy!"

"I know," Pete said sympathetically, and he reached for a cup of coffee. They were sitting in the Bayport Police Department, and reviewing any evidence they could find. "It’s frustrating. But these guys are good- they get what they want."

Fenton sighed, and then looked up. "How do you know so much about this group?

You’ve only been assisting Con over the last three weeks or so."

"Well," he said quickly, "Come on, Fenton. You’re being jumpy. I’ve seen the files. I know what these guys can do. I’m in Bayport temporarily, as you know. Since my home office is out of Cape May, I was there when everything went down. We saw the photos of the dead bodies…we know what Nash and Jenkins are capable of."

Fenton paused, and then gave a small grin. "You’re right- I’m sorry. It’s just when I think of what they did to my sons… to my daughter-in-law... well, almost…it’s hard to think straight. I feel so useless."

"Don’t," Pete replied. "We all hit walls sometimes."

"Well, at least Jenkins is out of the way," Fenton said. "It’s amazing how much damage one man can do on his own."

"It’s not one man- it’s a gang, don’t forget."

Biting his lip, Fenton studied this cop with interest. Yes, it was a gang…but clearly, a personal vendetta was at stake in this case. A group or gang would not get involved with personal issues. The stakes would be too high. Surely, Pete should know that. Fenton knew he was getting tired, but not THAT tired. "Mmmmm…" he murmured. He found that letting people talk was often a good strategy for finding out what they were about. He had a strange feeling that this guy was holding something out on him, and he was determined to find out what.

Fenton finally spoke. "What evidence do we have? Did we trace back to a bakery that would have these types of boxes?" There HAD to be some sort of explanation for the stamp on the boxes.

"No matches, but we’re still looking into it."

Great. Now I’ll have more time to watch my oldest boy fall apart. The answer wasn’t acceptable. "Well, this is a priority. As long as Nash is still at large, my family is in danger. I think there’s been enough tragedy so far."

At that moment, Frank walked in and silently sat down. The tension hung thick in the air. "We’re still looking, Frank," Fenton said honestly.

"So am I," Frank said curtly. Fenton bit his lip. Frank looked awful; tired, thinner, OLDER somehow, as though he had passed the prime of his life at 22. Fenton would be damned if he’d let that happen.

Finally, Pete broke the silence. "Well…" He cleared his throat. "There is some evidence that we’ve been looking into. It’s purely circumstantial at this point, but…" He blushed. "I really shouldn’t tell you this. It’s not public yet."
"What?!" Fenton asked, sitting up straight.

"I…well, I shouldn’t say…I don’t know if I can make it happen."

"Oh, you WILL make it happen," Fenton cut in. He stood up. Frank just stared, hanging on to every word. "My family will not go another day – another minute- in unnecessary danger. What do you know?" He could care less if he was threatening an officer.

Finally, Pete spoke. "Well, we traced pennyroyal and cohash back to several sources. Obviously, they’re not THAT hard to get. But…standing to reason, the closest area in which we know there has been illicit dealing is in Wildwood, an area near Cape May. Right outside the town, there’s a shady area… there’s no guarantee that Nash got it from there, or that he’d still be in the area…but, based on that and the fact that he’s been spotted-"

"What?!" Frank cried, standing up. "Nash has been spotted?!!!"

"It’s a totally unconfirmed report."

"Where?!"

"Um," Pete said.

"My son asked you where," Fenton said, coldly and evenly. Why on earth hadn’t the police acted on this sooner? He’d have to ask Con when he got back from his business trip to Chicago.

Finally, Pete gave in. "About 10 miles north of Wildwood."

Frank and Fenton stared at Pete, and then turned and left the office. Fenton couldn’t comprehend why they hadn’t been told this before. Frank was blinded by a burning in his soul to do something…now.

Later that night, after Fenton briefed Joe on what was going on, Frank and Joe retired at their parent’s house and headed to bed.

Fenton nodded off thinking of the case.

Joe took out Callie’s ring one more time, unable to have the heart to return it to his brother.