A Shadow In The City
Part One
By Cathy Roberts
glroberts@bigfoot.com

A John Carter story, rated M15 as it deals with sexual molestation.

"ER" and all its characters belong to Warner Bros. No
infringement of their copyright is intended. This story
was written for the enjoyment of "ER" fans everywhere, and
may be downloaded for your own pleasure. However this
story may not be used, distributed or archived without the
permission of the author.

The last episode seen was "Getting To Know You". This story does
Contain some spoilers for season five.
I would like to thank Melissa for editing and giving me helpful
advice and Amanda for giving me encouragement.



"Summer In The City" is written by J. Sebastian/S. Boone/M. Sebastian
(The Loving Spoonful for those not old enough to remember the song).

 "Hot town, summer in the city
Back of my neck gettin' dirt-'n'-gritty
Bend down, isn't it a pity
Doesn't seem to be a shadow in the city
All around people lookin' half dead
Walking on the sidewalk, hotter than a match-head"

"Jerry, turn that down now!" Kerry had to yell to be heard above the radio. It was ungodly hot outside, the air conditioning at
home was broken and she had broken out in a sweat before she ever left the house. The last thing she needed was to walk into work to begin her shift and have to put up with Jerry's pathetic attempts to play disc jockey, she thought.

"Sorry, Dr. Weaver," Jerry tried to look apologetic as he lowered the volume amongst a multitude of protests.

"Try to remember that this is an emergency room and not a discotheque." Kerry stormed into the lounge, ignoring the
young man who had entered the emergency room with her.

"Carter, what did you do to put her in such a lousy mood?" Chuni asked as John logged into the computer.

He grinned, "It didn't take much, believe me. For starters, the air conditioning is broken and the repair service has no idea
when they'll be able to come out and fix it. Apparently, this heat wave has resulted in a lot of broken air conditioning systems
and we're way down on their list. For all those nights I spent freezing in that basement, I now have the coolest room in the
entire house."

"You said for starters, what else is going on?" Jerry prompted.

Carter glanced sideways at him. As far as he knew, Carol was the only other person that Kerry had spoken to regarding her
search for her birth mother, so he wasn't going to mention to anyone that Kerry was in a bad mood because the search was taking so long. She had endured more than one false lead and that morning had declared that if she encountered another then she would cease her search for her biological parents. While John felt a lot of sympathy for her emotional roller coaster ride, he
didn't think she should give up. Sure, there were bound to be a few false leads, but in the end it would be worth it, right?
Kerry hadn't agreed and had promptly told him to mind his own business. Maybe if it weren't so hot, she wouldn't have gotten
so angry. And maybe he wouldn't have gotten so defensive when she did. But, it was hot, she did get angry and he had retorted
back that if she didn't want his opinions on her business then she shouldn't share her life with him. Doors had been slammed,
utensils tossed angrily into the sink and then they had silently left for work, both of them simmering in their anger.

The ride to work had been a boon to them both because the air in her car worked just fine. By the time Kerry had parked,
they were both regretting their words. They had exchanged short apologies, then headed inside.
But there was no way that John would share all that with his co-workers. So he simply replied, "Traffic."

Chuni nodded, "It seems to be so much worse when it's summer, doesn't it?"

John agreed, "The heat makes tempers flare, that's for sure."

Satisfied that he was properly logged onto the system, he went to the lounge to change into his lab coat and begin work.

Kerry had put away her belongings and was now enjoying a cup of coffee. "John, I'm really sorry about this morning."

"Kerry, we already apologized to each other. It was hot in the house and we were both short tempered. It's okay."

She shook her head. "No, it's not okay. John, I value your friendship and your company. I shared the details of my life
with you because I wanted you to know about my life. I find it all too easy to think of you as a younger brother and I don't
want to do anything to make you uncomfortable at home."

John put on his lab coat and grinned, "Kerry, younger brothers learn at an early age to forgive a lot. Believe me. I'm not
uncomfortable at home. Hey, if it's still hot inside the house tonight, you can sleep in my room and I'll take the couch. It's
much cooler in the basement."

"Thanks for the offer, but I can't run you out of your bed."

"You wouldn't be running me out of my bed. I'm offering to let you in it."

Mark paused in the doorway, a silly grin on his face. "Did I hear what I think I just heard?"

John's face turned scarlet, "No. I was just telling Kerry that she could sleep in my bed tonight because it's so hot. I mean,
oh Hell." He sank into the nearest chair while Mark and Kerry burst into laughter.

"I heard about the air conditioning, Carter. I just wanted to tease you a little, that's all," Mark poured himself a cup of
coffee. "Although, you should be glad that it was only me who overheard what you said and not someone like Jerry."

"Or Chuni," John mumbled. He was still getting ribbed about kissing Lucy Knight months ago. Thank God it was summer and
Lucy was not around. By September, most of the staff should have forgotten Chuni's allegations that she had caught him and
Lucy making out in the x-ray room.

As if he had summoned her, Chuni pushed the door open to announce an incoming trauma. "Self-inflicted GSW to the head.
ETA is three minutes."

"Got it," Mark said as he downed his coffee and followed Kerry and John out.

By the time the paramedics arrived, the victim was dead. Half of his head had been blown away from the shotgun blast and it
was beyond them how he had managed to survive as long as he had.
Mark had to officially declare the man dead, even though there could be no doubt as to whether or not he was alive. The police
officer that had accompanied the paramedics to the hospital explained that the man had taken the shotgun to the park, sat
down against a tree and put the barrel in his mouth before pulling the trigger.

"There's no I.D. on him, but my partner is checking out the cars which were parked out at Douglas Park. One of them has to be his. There's no way he walked there with a shotgun in his hand."

John shook his head, "It's always sad when someone takes their own life. I wonder what his reason was?"

"Reasons don't matter, Carter," Mark reminded.

Chuni was still searching through the man's clothing and she held up a folded envelope. 'To My Family' was neatly written
on the front.
"This might be a note of some kind," she said as she handed it to the officer.

"Let's hope there's a name in here." He opened the envelope and began to read. "Yep, it's a suicide note. Says he's sorry, but
he can't go on any longer...tired of having to constantly defend himself against his accusers...not being trusted by his wife's
father." The officer read on in silence.

"Well?" Chuni prompted.

He looked up, "He admits to being guilty as charged, but that it's not his fault. He was led astray and he apologizes to his
wife for violating their wedding vows. It's signed, love, Joe. That's it." He returned the letter to the envelope, then stepped
out of the room, followed by the doctors.

"I guess we'll have to hope that my partner has better luck in finding his car."

"Yeah. I still can't help but wonder about him though. What was he accused of doing?" John asked.

"We can find that out once we know who he is." The officer left and the staff returned to work.

"Doc Magoo's for lunch?" Mark asked the crowd around the desk.

"Nah. Too hot to walk over there. I'll just take my chances with the cafeteria," John replied.

"Wimp." Mark looked around, but no one else was willing to go out into the heat either. "Are you guys going to make me walk over there by myself?"

"Yes," Chuni said. "And since you're going anyway, could you pick up a sandwich for me?"

"That's a good idea, Chuni. Mark, I'd like a BLT on whole wheat.

Toasted, please," Kerry said as she handed some money to Mark.

"Well, since you're going over there, I'd much rather avoid the cafeteria," John grinned.

"Great, now I'm the waiter," Mark muttered good-naturedly as he accepted everyone's orders.

"Excuse me?" a distinguished voice asked from the window. John swirled, instantly recognizing that voice.

"Grandfather? What brings you down here?"

Jacob Carter was a tall man with white hair who carried himself with an air of superiority. It was plainly evident from the way he held his body away from the window ledge that he felt he was in danger of being contaminated by anything he touched.

"Your uncle never arrived for work today. An hour ago, I received a call from the police that one of the company cars had been found abandoned in Douglas Park. It was the car that Joseph uses. The officer said something about an unidentified man being brought in here this morning and that they thought he might be Joseph."

John slowly shook his head. "There was no identification on the man. Only a suicide note signed 'Joe'. The body has been taken down to the morgue, but there's no way to identify him by looking at him, grandfather.""

"The police officer informed me of that as well. Did he not have personal belongings? Jewelry? Clothing? Joseph has two rings that are engraved."

John turned to Chuni, "What did you do with his belongings?"

"They're right here. I figured the police would be coming back for them. Everything that was on his body is in there."
She handed a bag to John.

"We can go in the lounge." He walked around to his grandfather, then led him into the lounge where he emptied the bag onto the table.
As he watched his grandfather sift through the bloodied clothing, he found himself hoping that he was here in vain. He hated the idea that another relative of his had come through those doors.
While it was true that his Uncle Joseph was not a blood relative, he was still family. He watched as his grandfather carefully opened the plastic baggie that held the man's watch and rings.
Jacob carefully examined each piece of jewelry, then he put them back in the baggie.

"These belong to your uncle. I'd like to see the body."

"Are you sure that they're Uncle Joe's?" John didn't want to believe that the man was really dead.

"I'm sure. The watch was a gift to him from Emily two Christmas' ago. It has a line from a poem on the back. His wedding ring is engraved with his and Emily's initials and the date of their wedding. The other ring is one that Casey gave him this past Christmas. You would have recognized the watch and ring if you ever bothered to come to the house for Christmas."

John chose to ignore that last barb. It was useless to try to explain to his grandfather that he had to work on Christmas Eve. In the world of Jacob Carter, his will and desires came first and everyone was expected to cater to him.

"I'll take you to the morgue now."

As he watched his grandfather walk out of the morgue, John informed the clerk that "John Doe" now had a name; Joseph Eugene Thielen. He gave him the correct spelling of the name, then caught up to his grandfather at the elevators.

"I wanted to see if it really was Joseph before I called Emily.

She will be devastated." Jacob said. "Joseph was a wonderful asset to the company and he'll be greatly missed by all the employees."

"His note said something about his being accused of doing something. Do you know anything about that?"

Jacob coolly regarded his grandson, then nodded. "I do. However, I am not at liberty to discuss the issue with you. I can see that I will have to visit the police station to see what else was in this note of his."

Remembering what the officer had read to them, John said, "I don't think that you should let Aunt Emily see the note."

"My feelings exactly. May I take Joseph's belongings? I don't want Emily to have to come down here just to get them."

"Of course. That's not a problem."

After escorting his grandfather outside to his limo, John slowly walked back into the building.

"It is your uncle then?" Kerry asked him.

"Yeah. He and Aunt Emily have one child, Casey. She's an actress of sorts." Which was, in his opinion, about the only way to describe Casey's acting abilities. Everyone knew that she only toyed with the theatre because it let her travel. If she wasn't chosen to act in a production, she would often volunteer to fill other positions. By now, she had a strong working knowledge of every job that was involved with a minor or major production, be it a drama or a musical. In John's opinion, it was a waste of her business degree, and he often wondered why she didn't just study theatre arts in college. Probably because grandfather would not have approved, he thought.

"Were you close to him?" Kerry's question intruded on his thoughts.

"When I was younger and my parents had to travel, the three of us would stay with them. Plus, our family often takes vacations together. My grandparents own a place on Martha's Vineyard and my parents have a condo on St. Bartholomew's Island. Uncle Joe has a cabin up on the Lake in Michigan. I just can't believe that he's dead."

"I'm sorry. There won't be a problem with you having time off for the funeral, John. Just let us know the details."

"Thanks, Kerry."

"Mark brought your lunch back. You should eat now."

"I'm not hungry anymore. I'd much rather just keep busy." He reached for a chart, then headed off to find the patient.

Mark approached Kerry, "Was it his uncle?"

"Yeah. I told him to let us know the details for the funeral so we can arrange some time off for him."

Mark shook his head. "Hell of a thing, isn't it? To have a relative come through those doors and be in such bad shape that you can't recognize them."

"Reminds me of when Dennis Gant died. He wasn't recognizable either." Kerry glanced down at the bag Mark had handed to her earlier. "I had better put this in the fridge in case he gets hungry later."

Kerry went into the lounge to put away the lunch Mark had bought for John. She hoped that John would be more talkative once they got home. It was plain he was hurting and she knew that talking about his uncle would help the grieving process.
Despite the fact that the sun had been down for over an hour, by the time John and Kerry returned home, the house was stifling.

While Kerry opened windows, John was dispatched to the attic to search for a fan. Kerry knew she had bought one years ago and thought a previous tenant might have stowed it away up there.
When John pulled open the steps, the air that swooped down to meet him was oppressive and dry. "Why does heat have to rise anyway?" He thought as he stepped off the ladder and reached for the cord to the light. A sudden shiver shot through him and the first thought to reach his brain was the old adage about "someone just walked over his grave" He immediately berated himself, knowing he was feeling morbid because of his uncle's death. Still, even with the light on, the shadows in the attic seemed reluctant to be banished, and they lingered in the recesses and along the walls.

"Get hold of yourself, Carter." He admonished himself. "It's just the attic. You've been up here before."

He looked to the right, where he had stored the boxes containing the Christmas decorations. He knew there was no fan over in that direction. Looking to his left, he didn't immediately spot a fan either, but he figured he would check in that direction first. He hadn't taken that many steps when the light flickered then died.
He froze in place, not able to remember if anything had been in front of him before the light went out. With no windows in the attic, the only source of light was coming through the hole in the floor where he had entered. It wasn't enough, he thought as he waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. Not nearly enough. Turning slowly, he began to walk carefully toward the entrance. He knew that if he headed straight for the opening that he wouldn't trip over anything because that was the way he had just come. He painfully found out he was wrong when he hit a large object at knee level and went sprawling over it, crashing into storage boxes as he hit the floor.

"Shit," he said as he sat up. His knee hurt and so did his hands and elbows from where he had tried to break his fall. Nothing broken, he noted as he felt along his knee and lower leg.

"John?" Kerry's voice floated up through the opening. "Are you okay? What's going on up there?"

"The light burned out. I'm fine." He reached out toward the object that had tripped him, encountering metal slats. "I found the fan." Strange though, that he hadn't seen it before.

He got to his feet and carried the fan to the opening.

"Be careful coming down," Kerry said. She stood off to one side, watching him.

"I will." He stepped down to the ladder, then grabbed the fan and carefully made his way down to the floor.

"One fan delivered," he grinned.

"Thank you." Kerry frowned, "You're bleeding."

"I am? Where?" He looked down at his hands and legs, but didn't see any blood.

"Your head." Kerry pointed to his forehead.

"I tripped over the fan after the light burned out. I must have hit my head on something."

"Well, let's get downstairs and clean it. It doesn't look bad, but I don't want to take any chances."

Once downstairs, John did insist on getting the fan going before allowing Kerry to examine the cut. It turned out to be minor, not even needing a bandage of any sort. Just a simple cleaning. Afterwards, he replaced the burned out bulb with a new one, making sure it was the correct wattage. This time, the attic seemed much brighter and not as creepy.

"Just my overactive imagination," he mused as he left the attic, closing the steps from below. The sound of the telephone echoed up the stairs and he heard Kerry answer. Then he heard her calling him.

He hurried down the steps; sure that it was his grandfather with news regarding his Uncle Joe's funeral arrangements.
"It's your grandfather," Kerry said as she handed the receiver to him.

"Thanks. Yes, sir?"

"Are you able to come out to the house tonight?"

John looked up at the clock, it was almost nine and he was on at six in the morning. If the traffic were in his favor, it would take him only thirty minutes to get to his grandparents' house.

"It's getting pretty late, but I can come out. Have you made the funeral arrangements yet?"

"We can discuss that when you get here. Drive carefully, John."

"I will. See you soon." He hung up, then let Kerry know that he was headed to his grandparents' house and didn't know when or if he'd be back. "I'll do my best to be to work on time," he promised.

"Don't worry about it. Under the circumstances, you can take however much time you need. Just call if you're going to be late."

"I will. Since I won't be here, why don't you sleep downstairs tonight? It really is much cooler in the basement."

She nodded slightly, "I will."

"And don't forget to close the windows up here. I don't want to get home later and find out that you've been robbed," his tone was serious.

"I will. You should go on now. Drive carefully."

"I will. Bye." He grabbed his keys and left.

When John arrived at the Carter mansion, he was surprised to see a police car parked in the driveway. He wasn't aware that it was police policy to visit the homes of the in-laws of suicide victims.

The butler opened the door as John reached the top step. "Mr. Carter and the others are expecting you," he informed him.

"Thanks."

John went back to the den where the family had gathered. Two strangers were present, an uniformed police officer and another man in regular clothes who was introduced to him as Detective Clark Morgan. Another non-family member present was Theo Reilly, the Carter family attorney.

John gave his Aunt Emily a long hug. "How did Casey handle the news?"

"Not well. She adored her father. A friend of hers is driving her home tonight because she was too upset to drive herself. Luckily, they're in Cleveland, so it won't be a long drive for them. I told her to just come straight here since I'm staying here until after the funeral."

"And what are the funeral arrangements?" he asked.

Emily glanced over at the police officers, "We don't know yet. The police have said that there's a possibility that Joe didn't commit suicide. They're here to speak with us to see if Joe had any other enemies."

"Any other enemies? Aunt Emily, I'm confused about what's going on. Was Uncle Joe in any kind of trouble?"

The detective overheard his question and answered. "Mr. Thielen had been under investigation for sexual molestation. The investigation ended when the victim's family changed their mind about pressing charges. However, in light of the evidence surrounding his death, we may have to consider the possibility that he was murdered."

John sat down by his aunt. "What evidence? He was brought into the hospital with a gun shot wound to the head."

"True. People in the park, including a police officer, heard a shotgun blast, and when they located the source of the sound they found Joseph. It was apparent to the officer that he had shot himself, even though his hand was no longer on the trigger. The shotgun was confiscated for testing and fingerprinting. The gun had been fired, but there were no fingerprints at all on the gun. It had been wiped clean."

"And you suspect the family of the person he supposedly molested?"

"They are possible suspects. We will also be investigating the possibility that this person was not his only victim."

John shook his head, "You're wrong. He wouldn't go around molesting people."

"Not just people, Johnny," Emily softly said. "It was a little boy. Joseph was involved in the Big Brother program and this child was assigned to him. About three weeks ago, his parents went to the police, alleging that Joseph had exposed himself to the boy and also fondled him."

"But, you said they changed their mind about pressing charges?" John asked the detective.

"I think that Mr. Carter can tell us more about that." He looked over to Jacob Carter.

"I offered the parents money if they would recant the charges. They did. Joseph was against the idea. He wanted to prove his innocence, even if he had to go to court. I told him that if the child had truly been molested, then the parents would not have settled for money, they would have wanted justice. I know that if my child was a victim like that, I wouldn't rest until the molester was either behind bars or dead."

Millicent nodded her agreement with her husband's position. She would move Heaven and Earth to bring a molester to justice, no matter who he or she was.

"So you think the parents of this boy wanted to see him dead?" John turned his attention back to the detective.

"As I said, they are possible suspects. We are also looking into the possibility that this child was not his only victim."

"You're assuming that he was guilty." John tried to keep the anger out of his voice, but he knew he wasn't succeeding.

"At this point in the investigation, we are assuming everything, Dr. Carter. We also consider everyone to be a suspect." Morgan's eyes narrowed. "And that does include this family. We would like to ask a few questions of each of you in an effort to determine everyone's whereabouts this morning. Is there another room we can use?"

Millicent nodded, "The dining room would be the best place."

"Thank you. Mr. Carter, shall we begin with you?" Morgan asked.

"Why not? Theo?"

Jacob Carter and the attorney led the way to the dining room. Once the police were out of the room, John gave his aunt another hug.

"I am so sorry, Aunt Emily."

"I just don't know what to believe. Joe assured me that he was innocent, that the boy was trying to make trouble because Joe wouldn't give him money. I want to believe in him."

John gave her shoulder a soft squeeze. "Then do just that. I just can't understand why they aren't content to let him die in peace. None of this makes a difference, does it?"

"It does if someone murdered him, John," Millicent said.

"Thankfully, your father and Uncle Branch are out of the country, so they won't have to be interrogated."

"Unless the police want to believe they would hire someone to kill him. Oh, God. I can't believe I just said that about my own brothers and my husband." Emily burst into tears. She had been living a nightmare the past three weeks and now she had no idea if it would ever end.
John let her use his shoulder to cry on, his own heart breaking over his aunt's pain. By the time Emily got herself under control, Jacob was back.

"Millicent, they would like to speak with you now."

"I hope this doesn't take long," she said as she headed out the door.

"What did they ask you?" Emily asked her father.

"Where I was this morning around the time Joe was shot. How I felt about the accusations against him. Theo assures me that they are fairly routine questions."

The questioning went on until John was the last one to be called into the dining room. He sat at the table, impatiently waiting while the detective and the officer compared notes. He knew that he was in the clear as he and Kerry had been on their way to work at the time Joe was shot.

Morgan looked up from his notes and smiled. "Thank you for being so patient. This won't take long, Doctor Carter."

"I hope not. What do you want to know?"

"Where were you at 6:45 this morning?"

"I was on my way to work at County General Hospital. My supervisor, Kerry Weaver, who is also my landlady, drove us into work. We had only been at work for about ten minutes when Uncle Joe was brought in. It was obvious that there was nothing we could do for him, even though his body was still struggling to hold on."

"You treated him?" Morgan seemed surprised to hear that.

"That's correct. Doctor Mark Greene, Doctor Weaver and I all treated him. He didn't have any identification on his body and his face was - unrecognizable", he paused as he struggled to block out that memory. "It wasn't until my grandfather came to the hospital around noon that I found out it might be my uncle. Grandfather was able to identify him by his jewelry; some of it was engraved."

"I see. Were you close to your uncle?"

"Not really. I spent a lot of time at his house when I was growing up. My parents first began to do a lot of work related travelling when I was about six or seven. My cousin Casey, Aunt Emily and Uncle Joe's daughter, is the same age as my sister, Barbara. So, it seemed to be only natural for the three of us to stay at their house."

"Three of us? You have another sister?"

"I had an older brother. He died of leukemia when he was twelve."

"I see. And you also have a another cousin, Chase Carter?"

"That's right."

"Did he ever stay there as well?"

"I really don't remember. Maybe a time or two. Why?"

"Just curious. To the best of your knowledge, did your uncle ever do anything to make you or your brother feel uncomfortable?"

"I don't understand what you mean." John understood all too well what the detective was asking. He didn't like the fact that the man was asking it to begin with.

"Did your uncle ever touch you in any way that he should not have? Did he ever make you touch him? Did he ever expose himself to you?"

John stood. "I cannot believe that you would ask me that. The man is dead. It doesn't matter if someone killed him or if he killed himself, he's still dead and should be allowed to rest in peace. All you're doing is making things worse for my aunt and her daughter. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get back home. It's getting late and I have to be to work early in the morning."

He turned his back on the police officers and went back to the den to say his good-byes to his aunt and grandparents.
"Let me know when Casey gets in, okay?" he asked his aunt.

"I will. Roland called while you were with the policemen. He and your mother will be taking the same flight as Barbara and they'll all get in late tomorrow afternoon."

"Good. Hopefully by tomorrow, that detective will realize just how foolish all of this is and you can go ahead with the funeral arrangements."

"I hope so."

"Try to get some sleep tonight," he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, then left.

The police officers left shortly after that, promising to be in touch soon. Millicent walked Emily up to bed and Jacob poured drinks for himself and Theo Reilly.

"Your thoughts, Theo?"

"I think they were sincere in trying to clear the family. It's obvious though that Detective Morgan feels that Joseph was guilty of the molestation charges. He even asked John if Joseph had ever exposed himself to him or asked John to touch him. Or if he had ever touched John."

Jacob snorted. "That entire investigation was preposterous. All they had to go on was the word of a vindictive child. I don't know what this country has come to when a child can accuse a good man of something so heinous and be believed without any other evidence."

Theo nodded. The police did not have any physical evidence against Joseph. That was why Joseph had been so insistent upon fighting the charges.

"I'm sure that John told them off."

"He seemed upset that they would ask him those questions. His opinion is that they should just let Joseph rest in peace. Jacob, one thing that struck me as odd is that John never did answer the questions."

"I wouldn't answer a question like that, either, Theo."

"I know," Theo had to grin at that. He had known Jacob Carter for years and knew that the man could be a stubborn ass at the most inopportune times. Still, he had known John for all of his life, and he had never known John to not answer a question. It might not be the answer you were looking for, but he still gave you an answer. The fact that he didn't answer made him uneasy and he didn't like feeling that way.

When John returned home, he saw that Kerry was curled on the couch, reading.

"How did things go?" she asked, looking up from her book.

"The police think that Uncle Joe was murdered because there were no fingerprints on the shot gun that he used to kill himself with.

So, until they have an answer or a suspect in custody, there can't be a funeral. Aunt Emily is really torn up about that. My cousin Casey is being driven home by one of her friends, because she's so upset that she just can't drive. My parents and sister will be here tomorrow. I don't know what good it will do for them to be here though, considering the circumstances." John sank down into the armchair.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Do the police have any idea why someone would murder your uncle?"

John shook his head. "Nothing that makes sense. To my knowledge, Uncle Joe didn't have any enemies. He had a nice job with grandfather's company, but he wasn't in a position where he would make policy decisions or fire anyone." John closed his eyes and savored the feeling of the fan forced air that wafted over him.

"I think it's getting cooler in here."

"By one or two degrees," Kerry agreed. She indicated the bowl of ice that she had placed in front of the fan. "That helps, and I also think I'm getting used to the heat as well. You look tired, John. Why don't you go on to bed now?"

"I can't. You're sitting on it. You're taking the basement tonight, remember?" he opened his eyes and grinned at her.

Kerry shook her head. "I can't run you out of your bed."

"You aren't. It's cooler in my room and you should sleep there. Tomorrow night, you can take the couch, okay?"

 "All right. You win, but just for tonight. Do you need to go down first and get anything?"

"Yeah." John went to his room to get his sleeping gear while Kerry went upstairs to get her pajamas. Less than thirty minutes later, John was curled up on the couch, unable to stretch out because it was too short for his long frame. He briefly considered moving to the floor, but then decided that the couch had to be better than that.

He still felt shocked over the allegations that his uncle had molested a little boy. Hadn't he promised him that he would never touch anyone else as long as John did what he wanted? True, that had been years ago, but a promise was a promise, right? He could still hear Uncle Joe's voice telling him that it was all his fault anyway. "You bring out these feelings in me, Johnny. It isn't fair for you to leave me feeling this way and not be willing to help me feel better. You wouldn't want me to have to turn to Bobby or Chase for my relief now, would you?" John angrily wiped away his tears, forcing the memory aside once again. He didn't want to think about that time or any of the other times his uncle had touched him or asked to be touched. He didn't want to think about any of it ever again. He would never have to look at his uncle and remember all the things they had done. Joe was dead now and could never hurt him again. That's all that mattered, right? The police and his family didn't need to know about those things. His aunt and cousin should be allowed to remember Joe the way they wanted to, as a good husband and father. They didn't need to remember him the way John did. That boy had to be lying, right? His grandfather had to be right about why the parents took the money and the boy had been lying. If he wasn't lying, then that meant that after John, Joe had gone on to do the same things to other boys and John just couldn't handle that thought right now.

John spent a sleepless night as the heat of the house combined with his tortured memories to keep him awake. When he heard Kerry's footsteps on the stairs, he sighed, knowing that it was time to get ready for work.

"You look like you didn't get any sleep at all," Kerry observed.

"I don't think I did. Those air conditioning people had better get out here soon."

"My thoughts exactly. Why don't you go take a cool shower while I fix breakfast? You'll feel better."

He headed for the basement.

"John?"

He turned around, "Yeah?"

"Thanks for letting me use your bed. It was cooler down there. Just don't forget that tonight is your turn."

"After last night, I don't think I'll forget."

As he went down the steps, he heard her cut on the stereo, the volume blasting throughout the house. He smiled as he thought of what Jerry would say if he happened to walk into the house right now. How many times had Kerry yelled him at because the radio volume was too loud? Too many times to count probably.

He scrubbed hard, working the soap into his skin, then rinsing thoroughly under the cool spray of the shower. He felt slightly guilty over feeling relief that his Uncle Joe was dead. The living nightmare that man had put him through was now over. The guilt came into play when he thought about the boy who accused Joe of molesting him. Was it his fault because he never told anyone what Joe had done to him? Had there been other boys over the years? He was scared to find out the answer to either of those questions.
With a little bit of luck, the police would quickly realize that Joe had killed himself and had not been murdered. The bastard could be buried and properly mourned by his family, then forgotten. He could always hope for that to happen.

As he searched through his drawers for something to wear, his gaze fell upon the photograph he kept on top of the dresser. It was of him, Barb and Bobby, taken the year before Bobby died. Before he had begun his chemo treatments. He looked deceptively healthy, beaming at the camera happily. John ran his finger over his brother's face, a familiar guilt looming inside his heart.
"I'm so sorry, Bobby," he whispered. Then he gave himself a mental shake and finished dressing for work.

When he got upstairs, Kerry told him it was too hot to prepare anything, so they decided to get breakfast at Doc Magoo's, leaving early so they would have plenty of time to eat.

The restaurant was crowded, but they managed to get a booth to themselves anyway. They ordered, then sat back and simply enjoyed the coolness of the restaurant air.

"If it's quiet, you should try to get some sleep," Kerry told him.

He nodded. "Thanks. We'll see if it does get quiet. Weather like this always seems to bring out the worst in people, doesn't it? You would think it would be too hot for people to go around stabbing or shooting their neighbors."

Kerry shook her head. "It doesn't make sense sometimes, does it?"

"There are some things I've seen that I will never understand, nor do I want to understand."

"Same here." Kerry noticed John tense as he looked at someone or something behind her. "What's wrong?"

"I hope that nothing is wrong. The detective that was at my grandparents' house last night just walked through the door."

Kerry turned around in her seat and noticed only one man standing in the doorway. He was looking around, but he didn't head their way. Instead he took a seat at the counter. "Well, he's not here to see you. He might be headed to the hospital to talk to all of us who were involved with treating your uncle."

"Maybe. We'll find out soon enough, won't we?"

The waitress arrived with their breakfasts. Kerry dug in, feeling hungry now that she was cool. John mainly played with his food, what little hunger he had felt had been destroyed by the arrival of Detective Morgan. John's hope that the detective would leave without noticing him was dashed when Morgan paid for his coffee, then approached their table.

"Doctor Carter, do you mind if I sit down?"

"Would it matter if I did?" John replied, ignoring Kerry's surprised expression. He didn't care if he was being rude. He didn't feel like hearing any more of the detectives questions.

Morgan smiled. "No, it wouldn't." He looked over at Kerry.

"I'm Detective Morgan, and you are?"

"Doctor Kerry Weaver. I'm an Attending Physician in the Emergency Room."

"And Doctor Carter's landlady. May I?" He gestured to the bench.

Kerry scooted over, giving him room to sit. She could feel a lot of hostility coming from John toward the man, but she didn't understand why he would feel that way. It wasn't the detective's fault that his uncle had not left any fingerprints on the gun. He was only doing his job by investigating a possible murder. John should be relieved to know that the police would pursue the case.

"I understand that you treated Joseph Thielen yesterday morning," he turned his face toward her and Kerry was struck by the intensity of his deep blue eyes.

"That's correct. Not that there was a lot of treatment involved. Mr. Thielen was a D.O.A. The paramedics had been surprised to arrive upon the scene and find him still alive, but he died enroute to the hospital."

"And he had no identification on him at all?"

"No. There was nothing except for a note, which we turned over to the police officer that arrived when he did. That was the only personal effect that was not put into a bag."

"Was he wearing any jewelry?"

"I didn't really notice. The nurses handle the disrobing of the patient."

"I see. Do you remember the names of the nurses who were in the room at the time? Or is there a record kept of things like that?"

"We don't keep those type of records, Detective Morgan. But, I think that we can find out who was in there at the time. I remember Chuni being there, and Malik. John? Do you remember who else was in there?"

"No. They were the only nurses in the room."

"I thought that a another doctor was there as well," Morgan said.

"Mark Greene was with us."

"Man must have rated highly to get three doctors and only two nurses."

"Once it was obvious that there was nothing that could be done for him, there was no need for more nurses. As a matter of fact, I think that Malik left the room once Mark declared the patient dead," Kerry looked to John for confirmation, and he nodded.

"Do you often get patients that are unrecognizable?"

"Too often," Kerry curtly replied.

"It must be rough," he stood. "I need to talk to the others who were in the treatment room. What are the last names of the nurses you mentioned?"

"They are Chuni Marquez and Malik McGrath," John told him.

"Thank you. I'll see you later. Thanks for your time."

John waited until the detective was out the door before he visibly relaxed. "I wish they would just drop the whole thing," he muttered.

"John, if someone murdered your uncle, then that person needs to be brought to justice." Kerry remembered that in his note, the man had admitted to being guilty as charged. She suppressed a shudder at that memory, not wanting to bring it up to John. Surely he remembered it on his own and if not, then it wouldn't do any good for her to remind him of it. Still, she couldn't help but wonder just what Joseph Thielen had been guilty of doing.

"Ready?" he asked.

She nodded. "I'm done."

"I'll get the check," he grabbed the check and headed for the cash register. Kerry fished around in her purse for money to leave as a tip, then met him at the door. Together they walked across the street to work. Detective Morgan hadn't wasted any time. They could see him in the lounge talking with Mark. Malik and Chuni greeted them somberly and they knew that the detective had already told them that he wished to speak with them, too.

John wearily sat on the bed. He had never gotten a chance to take a nap because it had been a rough day and he knew that the worst was yet to come since he had to go back to his grandparent's house. His father had called him from the airport to let him know that they had gotten in safely. Then his Aunt Emily had called to tell him that Casey had arrived at the house.
He checked his watch, noting that he still had an hour before he was supposed to be there.
He headed for his bathroom, intending to take a shower. But he never made into the enclosure.

"Hey, Johnny."

John was frozen with fear. He had to be having some type of a hallucination - that was the only reason he could come up with to explain why Joseph Thielen was seated on the toilet.

Joe laughed, "Don't look so shocked. Haven't you ever heard of ghosts?"

"There's no such thing."

Joe shrugged, "Believe what you want, but I'm really here and you're really talking to me. I was here yesterday, too. Didn't you wonder how it was that you tripped so easily in the attic over something that had not been in your way before? Simple answer really, I put the fan in your path. And I broke the light bulb."

"What do you want?"

"I want to make sure that my reputation remains unsullied, Johnny. I don't like it that the police are investigating my life, even if they do want to bring my murderer to justice. It was very difficult for Emily to have to deal with the charges that little brat's family was pressing, I don't want her and Casey to go through any more pain."

"I don't see how I can do anything about that."

"You can make sure you keep your mouth shut, Johnny. The police aren't going to get anywhere by investigating my life. The brat's family let themselves get bought off and they'll keep quiet."

"Then you did molest him?"

Joe shrugged. "That all depends on point of view, doesn't it?

If someone throws it in my face and I finally reach out and give him what he wants, then is that really molestation? I think not. It wasn't with you, now was it? You teased me unmercifully, John."

He shook his head. "I don't see where I could have done anything any differently. You teased me and led me on, then when I gave you what you wanted, you got all upset. I never liked the fact that I had to resort to threats to keep you quiet and obedient, but, again, that was something that you caused by your behavior. Just as you caused Bobby's death."

"You killed Bobby, not me."

"I wouldn't have touched Bobby if you would have kept your mouth shut and you know it! He was going to tell Roland what you told him about me. I couldn't let that happen. Roland wouldn't have bothered with the police, he would have killed me straight out. I would have been dead and he would have been in prison, or maybe even executed for murdering me. I think that one death was a small price to pay to keep two deaths from happening."

John shook his head. He had never gotten over feeling guilty about Bobby's death. Yes, it was a fact that his brother was dying from leukemia, but when John had broken down and told Bobby what their Uncle Joe had been doing to him, Bobby had not been weak or overly frail. The boys had sat up all night, talking. Bobby had written down what John had told him, then assured him that he would talk to their father the next day. John had gone to school feeling confident that Bobby would handle this, just like Bobby handled everything else bad that came up. On his way home from school, he had a sudden feeling that Bobby had died. When he got home, that feeling was confirmed. Joe was there, crying along with everyone else. It seemed that he had come over to stay with Bobby because their mother had to take Barbara to a doctor's appointment and Roland had a meeting he could not get out of. According to Joe, Bobby had felt tired and wanted to take a nap. When Joe went in later to check on him, Bobby was dead. John didn't quite believe him and when Joe took him aside later, he found out his suspicions had been right on target. Bobby had lashed out at Joe, telling him that he knew all about the things he had done to John and that he would pay dearly for hurting his brother. Joe had told him that he didn't know what he was talking about and Bobby had admitted that John had told him about everything. Joe had then suffocated Bobby to keep him quiet.

He told John that it was his fault for not believing him when he had told him that something bad would happen to anyone that John confided in about what "they" did together.

"If you tell anyone at all about what happened when you were a child, then someone is going to get hurt, John. Just like Bobby did. Do you understand me?"

"I've never told anyone else." John shook his head at the apparition. "I still don't see how you think I can say anything that would stop the police."

"If you keep quiet about us, then they won't have anything to go on with regard to the molestation charges and they can concentrate on finding my killer."

"Don't you know who killed you?"

"No. I've never seen him before. He had to have been a professional though, so that means that someone with money hired him to kill me. Once the police find out who that was, then I want you to make sure that the person pays."

"Why would I want to do that?"

"To keep your loved ones alive, that's why," the ghost smiled.

"You're as much of a bastard dead as you were while alive, do you know that?"

Joe shook his head, laughing. "That's one thing that's changed about you, John. There used to be a time when you wouldn't have dared talk to me like that."

"You weren't dead then."

"Ah, so you think that a dead man can't hurt you, is that it?"

"That about sums it up."

Joe smiled. "We'll see about that, won't we?"

Then he was gone. John carefully looked around the bathroom and the rest of the basement, but there was no sign of anyone there. Had he imagined the encounter? Maybe he was really asleep and this had been a dream?

He forced himself to breathe slowly, looking carefully around the room and noting that he was alone. At least from what he could tell. If his uncle was to be believed, there had been times when he had been around, but not visible to John. That scared him even more than the idea that his uncle's ghost was haunting him. Threatening him and those he cared about.

The sound of the water in the pipes told him that Kerry was still taking a shower, so if he didn't want to deprive her of any hot water, he would have to wait a little before he could get clean. Wait a minute, he thought. Kerry had been in the shower for over twenty minutes. She never spent more than five minutes in the shower. Never. Something had to be wrong. And that something probably was his uncle.

John sprinted up the stairs from his room, then up to the second floor of the house. He paused outside the bathroom door, deciding he had better make sure she was okay before he barged in.

"Kerry? Is everything all right?" He called loudly.

No answer. That scared him and he called out her name again, louder this time. Still no answer.

He tried the doorknob, but it wouldn't turn. There was no other option except to break down the door. He stepped back, then delivered a hard kick near the door handle, forcing it open.

Dashing into the bathroom, he went straight to the shower, pulling back the curtain and finding to his dismay that Kerry was collapsed in the tub. Her head was somehow blocking the drain and the water was now covering her face. He lifted her out of the tub and placed her on the floor, establishing the fact that she was no longer breathing. He immediately began to perform mouth to mouth and CPR, working frantically until she finally coughed up water and began to breathe on her own once more. He covered her shivering body with towels, then rushed to her room to use her phone to call for help. He returned to the bathroom and turned off the water, then knelt by her side to monitor her breathing.

"Please be all right, Kerry," he said. "I know this is all my fault and I'm so sorry. Please forgive me for making this happen to you. Please be okay."

He stayed with her until the paramedics arrived, then he went downstairs to let them in. They did what they could for her there, then headed for the closest hospital, which happened to be County General. John made sure everything was locked up, then followed them there. Once he knew for sure that Kerry would be all right, he would go to his grandparents' house.

By the time John arrived at the hospital, he discovered that Mark had sent Kerry for a CT scan because she had hit her head. Mark assured him that otherwise, she seemed fine.

"What happened?"

John shook his head. "I really don't know. When we got home, she wanted to take a shower and she went upstairs. I went down to my room. After a while I realized that I could still hear the water running and that Kerry had been in the shower for about twenty minutes. Kerry never takes longer than five minutes when she showers, so I was worried that something was wrong. When I knocked on the door and called her name, there was no answer. I had to break the door in to get inside, and when I found her, her face was covered with water. I guess that when she fell, her head somehow managed to block the drain. She wasn't breathing, so I performed CPR and mouth to mouth, then called for help. Are you sure she's going to be all right?" John was anxious about that.

"She should be fine. She woke up in the exam room, complaining that her head hurt. I think it's just a minor concussion, but we'll know more once we get the results of the CT scan. She will have to stay here overnight for observation."

"Since our air is still out, that might not be a bad thing. Do you think I could see her? I have to go out to my grandparents' house because the rest of the family has finally arrived, but I don't want to go until I know she's all right."

"That shouldn't be a problem."

"Thanks."

A few minutes later, John was in Kerry's room. Her naturally pale skin seemed even whiter and he found himself blaming himself for what had happened to her. He knew that Joe had done this to Kerry just to prove to John that he was capable of doing harm even if he was dead.

Kerry's eyes fluttered open and she smiled up at him. "I hear I have you to thank for saving my life." Her rough voice was more hoarse due to taking in all that water.

"I did what I could. Do you remember what happened?"

"It was the strangest thing, John. I was done with my shower and I took a step toward the spigot to cut off the water when I stepped on a sliver of soap and my leg went flying out from under me. I don't know how the soap got in the tub. I've been using a body wash for months."

"Well, I guess it doesn't matter now, does it? The important thing is that you're all right. But, next time you take a shower or bath, leave the door unlocked. I could have reached you a lot faster if the door would have been unlocked. I'll replace the door tomorrow."

Kerry frowned. "I didn't lock the door, John. I never lock the bathroom door. When I was a kid I locked the door once to take a bath and I slipped in the tub. My parents scolded me for that and made me promise to never lock the door again. I never have. I know that I need to make it easy for someone to reach me if I should need any help."

"Well, it was locked. I had to kick the door in to reach you."

"I didn't lock it. I swear to you that I didn't lock it."

John didn't want her getting upset over that, so he gently grasped her hand in his. "Maybe it was just stuck. With this heat and humidity, it's possible that the wood swelled."

"That could be what happened. Hey, aren't you supposed to be at your grandparents' house now?"

"Yeah, but I wasn't going anywhere until I knew you were all right. I'm headed that way now."

"Drive carefully. I know you haven't had much sleep lately and I don't want to have you joining me here in the emergency room," she joked.

"I will."

"If you feel tired when it's time to leave there, then stay overnight with your grandparents."

"I'll consider doing that. I'll see you in the morning."

"I'll be here."

John left, passing Mark as the other man was heading into Kerry's room. Since Mark was smiling, John knew that the CT scan had been normal, so he continued on his way to his grandparents' house.

John had just turned into the long driveway to the house when Joe appeared in the passenger seat.

The surprise of having him appear out of nowhere made John jerk the wheel sharply, but he quickly got the car back under control.

"Damn! Don't do that."

Joe laughed, "A little jumpy aren't you, Johnny? So, how is your landlady?"

"Alive. No thanks to you. I don't want you to ever go near Kerry again," John replied through clenched teeth.

"That's all up to you, Johnny. What you do and don't do is going to determine what happens to those you care about. I could have made sure that Kerry Weaver died tonight, but I didn't. I might not always be so nice in the future. Now, I want you to go in there and comfort my wife and daughter. Assure them that I never did anything wrong."

"You already admitted to being guilty in your note."

"A note I never wrote, Johnny. The only part that had my handwriting on it was the envelope. The rest was typed. Find the printer or typewriter that note was created with and you might find my killer. I would never be so stupid as to admit to doing wrong, even if I was desperate enough to kill myself. I would never hurt Emily and Casey in that way."

"No, just in other ways," John muttered.

"I never did anything to hurt them. I kept my mouth shut about what was going on and never flaunted our relationship in front of them. You were the one who wanted to bring it out into the open, not me." As quickly as he had appeared, Joe was gone.

John sighed and parked his car, then headed into the house. Since he was late, he didn't even bother to ring the bell. He knew the door would be unlocked. He stepped into the foyer to see his father, his cousin Casey and his uncle Branch in a heated discussion. As he loudly closed the door, they all looked his way, immediately looking guilty. Had they been talking about him? He didn't think he was that late.

"Sorry I'm late. There was an accident at home. Kerry fell in the shower and nearly drowned."

"Is she okay now?" Roland asked. He had spoken to Kerry on the telephone a few times and liked the woman.

"She has to stay in the hospital overnight for observation, but she'll be okay. Casey, how are you holding up?"

His beautiful blonde cousin had tears in her eyes as he hugged her. "I'm doing much better now that I'm here with Mom. She's trying so hard to be strong."

"Aunt Emily is a strong woman, Casey. She'll make it through this. Pretty soon the police will find that there isn't anything here to investigate and then she can put this all behind her."

"Those are some serious allegations, John," Casey replied. "I don't know how we can move past that. It's not easy to find out that your father is a child molester. Was a child molester. I guess that if anything good can be found in all this, it is that he can never harm another child."

"Casey, there's no proof that your father did any such thing. The charges were dropped."

"Because father paid the family to drop the charges," Branch said.

John glanced at his uncle and saw anger in his eyes. He just didn't know if the anger was directed toward his grandfather or his uncle.

"I think that grandfather is right in his belief that the parents would not have accepted the money if Joe was guilty. They must have been lying."

"They weren't lying, John." Roland coldly replied.

"Of course they were. Uncle Joe would never hurt anyone."

"Well, someone murdered my father," Casey spat out, her glare shifting from Roland to Branch. "A person can't pull the trigger of a gun and then wipe off his own fingerprints. It just isn't possible."

"It could have been just about anyone, Casey. Plus, the paramedics said that he was still alive when they arrived at the park. He might have wiped the prints off the gun."

"Son, the entire gun was wiped. There was no way he did that. You saw him in the hospital and you know that isn't a possibility," Roland said.

"The police want to speak with Chase. They think that Joe might have tried something with him." Branch suddenly said.
Everyone turned to look at him, but it was John who spoke.
"He wouldn't have touched him. Besides, there's no way that Chase can answer their questions."

"I've got an appointment with Chase's doctor in the morning. Detective Morgan will also be there. We're going to discuss Chase's present mental state and whether or not his answers can be believed."

"I can't believe that you would put Chase through that. He's in no condition to be questioned by the police. What's next? Digging up Bobby to see if Uncle Joe ever tried anything with him?"

"John, there will be no more talk like that. I will not have you upsetting your mother that way."

"I don't understand you all. How can you stand here and talk as if you believe he was a child molester? Especially you, Casey. He was your father and he loved you very much."

None of them would even look at him, they simply stared at the floor.

"I'm going to go see Mom. Where is she?"

"In the study with the rest of the family," Roland replied.

"Then that's where I'll be if any of you come to your senses and want to talk." John walked away from them. If his Uncle Joe wanted him to comfort Casey in her time of grief then she was certainly going to have to work harder at finding some of that grief.

John sat in a chair by the pool, trying to keep his memories at bay and his thoughts idle for just a short while. He dreaded the idea of driving back home, but he also didn't want to stay here all night. He glanced up as his father sat in the chair beside him.

"I know you think we're some kind of monsters for not believing in Joe's innocence, John. We have our reasons."

"And they are?"

"Let me ask you something before I go into that. Did Bobby ever tell you that Joe was doing anything inappropriate with him?"

John shook his head, knowing that he couldn't reply, "Besides murdering him?" to his father.

"I know that you and Bobby were close. Brothers often are. I had hoped that he had shared his secrets with you."

"What secrets?" John asked, sitting up straight as he tried to figure out what his father was talking about.

"When Bobby died, your Mom and I just boxed up all his belongings. We didn't have the desire to go through them back then. A few months ago, the last time we were in town, we got down those boxes."

"I remember. You gave me a few of his things."

"Yes. There were some items that other people had given to Bobby and we offered them back to the people who had given them to him. Casey had given Bobby a couple of books and we gave them back to her. A few weeks ago, she called me to tell me that she had found something disturbing in one of the books. She flew out to Bangkok and showed me what she had found. It was a piece of paper, part of a letter I guess. Bobby was relating...things that Joe had done, apparently to him. I guess Bobby had put it in the book for safekeeping, intending to give it to me. He died before he could though. It was dated the day he died."

John could feel Roland's eyes boring into him as he digested the information. Bobby had written down some of what he had told him, but had not mentioned his name. So, Roland and Casey thought that Joe had molested Bobby.

"I had no idea," John softly replied.

"I was hoping that Bobby had confided in you. But, then again, I knew that if he had, you would have told me a long time ago about the sexual abuse. The only ones who know about this are Casey, Branch and I. And now you."

"How did Uncle Branch get involved?"

"I asked him about Chase. I figured that if Joe had molested Bobby, then he might have also molested Chase and you."

"What did he say?"

"He's afraid that it might be part of the reason why Chase turned to heroin. I already heard that you told Detective Morgan that Joe never touched you."

John remembered that he had said no such thing. He had never answered the man's questions. Still, if that was what his father believed, then he didn't see the harm in letting him think that.

"John, we have got to find a way to stop the police investigation."

"I know. It's really tearing Aunt Emily apart."

"It can also tear this entire family apart."

John looked up sharply as he heard the tone in his father's voice. Then it hit him hard - his father and maybe his uncle and cousin, had been involved in Joe's death. A death that Joe had ordered him to avenge.

"Are you telling me that you killed Uncle Joe? You were in Bangkok when it happened, right?"

"Your mother and I had just returned to Paris when we heard about Joe's death. Branch was still in Bangkok and Casey was in Ohio."

John remembered Joe saying that he didn't recognize the young man who had killed him and his theory that it was a hired killer.

John suddenly wondered about the man who had driven Casey home.

"Killers can be bought, Dad."

Roland simply nodded and John knew that his father was somehow connected to Joe's death. He suddenly felt sick to his stomach, despite the fact that he had barely eaten anything all day. He leaned over and put his head between his legs, hoping the feeling would go away.

He felt Roland's hand upon the back of his neck. "I know it's difficult to hear, John, but Joe really was an evil man."

"You have no idea, Dad," he thought, but he kept quiet. There was no reason to make this any worse than it already was.

"This has been hard for all of us. Casey is devastated and so angry with her father over this. And I...Hell, John, I don't know exactly how I feel. I trusted Joe. We let you kids stay with him and Emily a lot. I never had any reason to doubt that he was good to my children. And now I find myself remembering all the times he took you boys fishing up in Michigan. And the fact that he was there when Bobby died. How hard it must have been for Bobby to die with his abuser there with him. And no one else."

Roland drew in a quivering breath. "And then I wonder if Bobby really died from the leukemia. He was about to tell on Joe. What if Joe knew that? Don't abusers threaten their victims?"

"Why are you asking me?"

"You work in an emergency room, I'm sure you see more than your fair share of abused children.""

"The ones we see are usually those who have been physically abused, most often by their own parents. That's bad enough."

John finally felt a little better and he sat up. He was afraid to look at his father though. Afraid that Roland would look at him and see that he had been Joe's victim and not Bobby. He had to find some way to stop the police investigation, restore Joe's good memory to his Aunt Emily, and be able to tell Joe that he had found his killers without having Joe go after them. He didn't think that Joe would do anything to harm Casey, but he wasn't so sure about his Uncle Branch and his father. If only he had not had an alibi for the time of Joe's death, then he could confess to murdering him and put an end to all this. Maybe he could still do that - claim he hired someone - a homeless, nameless person maybe - to kill Joe. But what could he claim for a motive? If he said that it was because he thought Joe guilty of the charges against him, then that didn't do anything to help restore his good name. John shook his head, sure that his father wouldn't let him get away with confessing to Joe's murder.

"I know that you looked up to your uncle, and I'm sorry I had to tell you this. I just didn't want you thinking that Casey was a monster for not being upset enough over her father's death."

"I never thought that."

"It was in your eyes, Johnny."

"Are you going to tell everyone else about this?"

"I don't know. I guess that will depend a lot on how the police investigation goes."

"It needs to be stopped."

"I know that. I've got more than a few friends in high places within the department and I intend to speak with them. At the very least, I want Emily to be able to bury her husband as soon as possible."

"They're not going to allow you to just sweep this under the rug, Dad."

"They might. If only the fingerprints had not been wiped clean, then there wouldn't be an investigation right now."

John suddenly had an idea. "Why not claim that Joe hired someone to kill him since he couldn't live with himself any longer but didn't have the courage to kill himself?"

Roland considered that for a moment. "That might work. I'll speak with Branch about it."

"It's preferable to having an innocent person get arrested for his murder."

"Yes. Well, it's getting late and your mother wants to get home. What about you?"

"I think I'll head on home now, too. I've got to be to work by six in the morning."

"You look tired. Are you sure you feel up to driving?"

"I'm fine. Really. I'll drive extra carefully."

"We could always drive you home."

"It's out of your way, Dad. I'll be fine."

"Will you call me once you get home so I know you made it there safely?"

"I will." They both stood, then went into the house to say their good-byes.

The ride home was quiet. John spent most of it on edge, waiting for Joe to appear at any moment. Had he been there when Roland was telling him about Bobby? John hoped not. He didn't want to wake up in the morning to discover that his father had died during the night. But, he made it home without incident. He went straight to his room, falling across the bed to rest for a few moments before actually getting ready for bed. He was asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

The night passed without incident, although John kept waking up every time he heard a noise. As it was, he didn't get much sleep at all. The next morning, John packed up some clothing and personal hygiene items for Kerry, then left early for work. Once at the hospital, he went directly to Kerry's room, hoping to have time to visit with her before his shift began. He planned to ask Mark to let him take the time later to take Kerry home and he knew that Mark would grant that request.

John stopped short in the doorway of Kerry's room. Even though visitor hours had not yet begun, she had company. It was that police detective, Clark Morgan. "Sorry, I didn't know you had company," he commented dryly. He didn't know what bothered him most - the fact that the detective was bugging Kerry so early in the morning or the fact that Kerry wasn't acting as if she was being bugged. She seemed to be enjoying the man's visit. As if.

"John, come on in. I don't suppose the people have called about repairing the air conditioner have they?"

"Not yet. They probably aren't open yet. I think that only doctors and police officers get to work this early." John didn't even bother to greet the police officer. He didn't want to give the man a chance to ask him any more questions. Not after what his father had revealed to him last night.

"I stopped by downstairs this morning to talk with Ms. Marquez again and found out that Kerry was in the hospital. I couldn't leave without making sure she was all right." The detective smiled at Kerry, who actually blushed under his gaze. John was tempted to throw up. Couldn't Kerry see that this guy was just playing up to her in order to find out more information for his case?

"I brought you some clothing and other things. I was going to ask Mark to let me take a few hours off later to take you home."

"That's sweet of you, but unnecessary. Clark has already offered to take me home later," Kerry smiled at John, but he felt his heart grow cold at those words. So, Kerry didn't need him. Big deal. It wasn't as if they were a couple or anything. They were just roommates. Hell, they weren't really that either. She was his landlady. Pure and simple. Landlady and supervisor. Boss. She could do what she wanted with whomever she wanted. He just didn't want to be around while she was doing it.

"I need to get back downstairs." He put the suitcase down, then left.

"I don't think he likes me much," Clark commented.

"He's just upset over his uncle's death, that's all," Kerry explained.

"What has he told you about our investigation?"

"Just that the police suspected that the man was murdered and didn't commit suicide. Why? Is there more to it?"

"A little. Kerry, have you ever been trained to recognize adults who have been sexually abused as children?"

"Recognize in what way? You're asking that as if they all look or behave outside the norm. Many abuse victims grow up to live fairly normal lives. True, some of them never get past the trauma and the pain and end up becoming substance abusers, but a lot of them are able to function normally."

"Normally enough to get medical degrees?"

Kerry's eyes narrowed. "Are you trying to imply that John was abused as a child?"

"That possibility has crossed my mind, Kerry. I asked him, but he never answered me. Joseph Thielen had been accused of sexually molesting a child. A boy who he was working with in the Big Brothers program. The parents dropped the charges after Jacob Carter offered them quite a substantial amount of money. We are still investigating that case though, in light of Mr. Thielen's death."

"So everyone is a suspect then?"

"That's right. Of course, John Carter has you for an alibi for the time of the murder, but not everyone in his family is that lucky, and even those who do have alibis could have always paid someone else to do the deed. There's also the possibility that the father or another relative of the victim decided that money or no money, Joseph Thielen was going to pay for his crimes."

"It must be a horrible life you lead, Clark."

"What do you mean?"

"You always think the worst of people, don't you?"

He slowly nodded. "In my job, I have to."

"How sad."

By mid morning, it was quiet in the emergency room and John crept away to an empty room to try to nap. He had just fallen asleep when he heard someone call his name. He was instantly awake, at first thinking that he was being called for a trauma, but the door to the room was closed. A shiver swept through his body as he heard his name again. It was Joe. God, was there any place he could go where the ghost of that man could not find him?

"What?" he snapped.

"Don't take that tone with me, Johnny. I left you alone all night and most of the morning. I just wanted to see if you had figured out a way to put a stop to this inane investigation."

"Not yet. I'm still thinking."

"And does this also mean that you aren't any closer to finding out who did kill me?"

"I'm narrowing it down."

"There are a lot of your friends here, Johnny. I don't want to have to hurt any of them just to get you to do the simple things I asked of you."

"You don't have to do that."

"I was thinking that you should try to get in on that detective's good side. He might let something slip - clues that you can follow up on."

"I'll consider that. He thinks you were guilty of molesting that boy."

"He's a cop. They always think ill of people."

"What will you do when you find out who killed you?"

"Get my revenge of course."

"And what if the person behind your murder turns out to be someone unexpected? Say for instance, that Casey hired someone to kill you."

Joe laughed for a long time at that. "You're really funny, Johnny. My little girl would never dream of doing anything to hurt me. She has always been daddy's little girl and she has always adored me."

"And you never touched her?"

"That's an ugly thing to ask, Johnny. She's my own flesh and blood, why would I do that? Besides," John could hear the leer in Joe's voice, "I much prefer young boys to young girls."

And then there was silence again. John could hear his heart beating rapidly, a sign of the fear and loathing he had for that man. All of his friends were in danger and John didn't know what to do about that. He had to find someway to make Joe think that no one here at County mattered to him. That no one at all mattered. Why was it that people who came in contact with him always ended up getting hurt in some way? Had Joe's inherent evil rubbed off on him over the years?

By the time that his shift was over, John was more than ready to go home. Being mean toward his co-workers was not something that came easily to him and it had hurt him each time he said or did something that hurt one of them. But, it was worth the pain if it kept them from harm.

The El was crowded and hot and he wasn't looking forward to going inside once he reached the house. He knew it would be hot inside. He was beginning to doubt if the air conditioning system would ever get repaired. Maybe there was some way he could send his Uncle Joe to haunt the repair people? Put a scare into them so they would put Kerry's house at the top of the list.

He opened the door and was immediately revived by the cool air that swept over him. The air conditioner was back.

Kerry sat on the couch and she smiled as he came in.

"Guess who showed up this afternoon?" she asked.

"It's about time. It feels wonderful in here," he sat down. "So, are you feeling all right? Can I get you anything?"

She smiled. "I'm fine, John. I left the hospital before noon and on the way home, Clark pulled through a fast food drive-thru. Do you feel up to making dinner for us?"

"That all depends on whether I have to actually cook anything or if there's something I can heat up and serve." He grinned.

"I believe that there's leftover lasagna in the freezer and vegetables for a salad in the fridge."

"I can handle that. I'll stick the lasagna in the oven, then grab a quick shower before making the salad."

"Okay."

When he came back upstairs to fix the salad, Kerry was now in the kitchen, seated on a stool. He was glad to see that, because he had been afraid that she would try to help with dinner. She had been told to rest once she got home and he was determined to make sure that she did just that.

"I can help cut vegetables," she offered.

"I think I can handle it. Unless you want your cucumbers seeded", he joked.

She laughed, remembering how he had tried to use a knife - a large knife, no less, to seed a cucumber once.

 "I can handle eating the seeds."

"Good."

She asked him about his day and they talked about work for a little while. Then dinner was ready. John quickly set the table and they sat down to eat.

"I'll run out tonight to get a new door for the bathroom," he said.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you that Clark is taking care of that for me. He's supposed to come by around eight to install a new door."

John bristled at that news. "Is there anything else that the amazing Detective Morgan is doing for you?"

"You don't have to be so nasty, John. He's just trying to be nice. I think he wants to go out with me."

"Pump you for information is more like it," he scoffed.

Kerry speared a chunk of tomato, afraid that John might be right

about that. Clark really had no business telling her about his suspicions that John had been molested as a child. Maybe he thought that she would ask John about it and then provide him with confirmation for his theory. "He told me that your uncle had been under investigation on molestation charges."

His body stiffened and his eyes reflected his anger. "He had no right to tell you that. The charges were dropped and have nothing to do with his death."

"He mentioned that. But, he does suspect that those charges did result in your uncle's death."

"He thinks that the child's parents might have murdered him. Or the parents of another victim."

"This is ridiculous. The parents dropped the charges, I might add. If Uncle Joe would have been guilty, then they would not have dropped those charges. For the police to even think that those parents did murder him, then they are obviously desperate to pin the blame on the first person they can get their hands on. Uncle Joe is dead, why can't they just let it be? He left a suicide note. I think it's very plain that he killed himself."

"Do you really believe that?" Kerry softly asked.

John stared at her for a second, then nodded. "Yes, I do."

"I wish I could believe you. I've known you long enough to be able to tell when you're lying, John."

John tossed his napkin on the table and stood, angry that she would say that. He knew it was true, and that made him feel even angrier.

"Fine. Believe what you want. It doesn't change the truth any, Kerry." He began to walk away.

"John, did he molest you?"

He stopped in his tracks at hearing her question. Had that bastard Morgan told her that, too? He tried to think of something to tell her, some reply that would satisfy her curiosity. But, she would know that he was lying. She had proved that to him already. The Hell with her. The Hell with them all. He went to his room.

Kerry slowly put her fork down. John's silence was all the answer she needed. He was hurting and obviously confused about his uncle's death. She could understand why he would want to put bad memories behind him, but she needed to make him see that if that man had molested him, then that meant he most likely had molested that other boy. And God only knew how many boys in between the two of them. Since the man was dead, he obviously wasn't a threat anymore, but there were people out there whom he had damaged and they deserved to get help.

She stood and headed for John's room. She didn't want to end up having an argument with him, but she couldn't let this go. Not now anyway.

"John? May I come down?"

"No."

He sounded sullen. Taking a deep breath, she started down the steps.

"Dammitt, Kerry. I told you to not come down." He got up off of his bed and met her at the bottom of the steps. "I don't want to talk about my uncle. Not with you nor with anyone else."

"John, you can't just push this aside."

"I most certainly can," he asserted.

She shook her head. "Can you really? Have you ever spoken to anyone about this? A counselor or your parents?"

A shadow crossed his face as he shook his head. "No. And I have no intention of talking to you about it either." Then he belatedly remembered that he wasn't going to admit anything to Kerry and he hastily added, "Because there isn't anything to talk about. Go back upstairs. You have company coming, remember?"

"I have plenty of time for you, John."

"I appreciate that, Kerry, but there's nothing to talk about. If you're done eating, then I'll come up to take care of the dishes. You're supposed to be resting, remember?"

End of Part 1