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

A John Carter story, rated M15 as it deals with sexual molestation. Please see Part 1 for all disclaimers.

After the dishes were done and the kitchen cleaned up, John returned to his room. He lay upon the bed, trying not to think about how close he had come to confirming Kerry's suspicions. He didn't want her to be hurt again. He heard the doorbell ring and knew that Clark Morgan had arrived to replace the bathroom door. Hopefully, he had been wrong when he told Kerry that the detective was using her as a means to gather information for his case. If not, then there was plenty that Kerry could reveal to him now.

Kerry stood in the hallway, watching Clark Morgan work. He was a handsome man and he seemed to be genuinely interested in her. Still, John's words echoed in her mind. Was the police officer using her to further his case? So far, he hadn't asked her any more questions about John or his family, so maybe his interest in her was genuine. She had already put up with being used by Ellis West during the Synergix fiasco. She wasn't sure if she could handle getting involved with another man who was only out to use her for his own gain.

The telephone rang and she went into her bedroom to answer it. It was Roland Carter, looking for John. She put the receiver down on the table, told Clark where she was going and then went downstairs to knock on John's door. She called down that the phone call was for him, then she went back upstairs to replace the receiver. She returned to the hallway with trepidation. If Clark was going to question her, it would be now. She breathed a sigh of relief when he continued with their previous conversation, and never asked about the phone call or how her boarder was doing.

John slowly hung up the receiver, feeling stunned. His father had told him that Branch had visited Chase today, as he said he would. While Chase couldn't communicate all that well, he was able to admit that Joe had molested him in some way. John had no reason to doubt that Chase was being truthful. But, his admission meant that Joe had lied when he promised John that he wouldn't touch Chase or Bobby if John would only do those terrible things with him.

Kerry was right. Joe had gone on to molest at least one other person. Had there been others? He dropped his head into his hands, feeling sick to his stomach at the thought.

"Did you eat something that didn't agree with you?"

John looked up. His uncle was leaning against the dresser, a smirk on his face as he continued to speak.

"You never got ill from me."

"You lied to me."

"About what?" Joe's eyes narrowed.

"You molested Chase. Uncle Branch went to the Kenner Institute to ask Chase and he admitted it. You promised me that if I did what you wanted, then you wouldn't touch Chase or anyone else for that matter."

Joe relaxed, then shrugged. "What can I say? Chase came on to me, so I took advantage of his lust. Just as I did with you. You really can't expect a human being to continually ignore it when someone keeps coming on to him."

"Chase never came on to you. I never did that either."

"Of course you did, Johnny. You just don't want to admit to yourself or anyone else that you were a slut as a child. Just as you are a slut now. How many women have you been through over the years? Women that you just use sexually and then discard?"

"Get out of here," John hissed.

"I want my murderer, Johnny. The police detective is here, isn't he? You should be upstairs trying to find out just what he knows."

"No. I want you out of here. I want you to just leave me alone. You're dead, don't you get that? None of this matters anymore!" John shouted.

"It matters that someone murdered me."

"You deserved to die," John spat out.

"No one deserves to be murdered."

"I'll bet that Bobby felt the same way."

Once Clark finished installing the door, he and Kerry went to the kitchen for a drink and they could hear John shouting downstairs.

"He never speaks to his father like that," Kerry said as she approached the door. "And I didn't hear the doorbell."

"He sounds upset," Clark said as he reached for the doorknob.

"We shouldn't," she said. Then she heard John screaming out to be left alone and she nodded.

Clark opened the door and they both went down. John didn't hear them coming and they could see him standing near the foot of his bed, his attention on his dresser as he yelled. No one else was in sight.

"Quit bothering me. You lied to me and you deserved to die. I hope you burn in Hell!"

Joe sneered at John. "Now you've done it to yourself, Johnny. They think you've flipped." Then he was gone.

John twirled around and saw that Kerry and Clark Morgan were in his room. Just how much had they heard?

"Get out!" He angrily gestured for them to leave.

"We heard you shouting down here. Are you all right?" Kerry asked, her concern apparent.

"I'm just fine, Kerry. Now, get the Hell out of my room. If everyone would just leave me alone, then I would be great, just great."

"And who is everyone?" Kerry slowly approached him. "Clark and I are the only ones here with you."

He sank down onto the end of the bed and closed his eyes. How was he going to talk his way around this? He could feel Kerry sit down beside him and put her arm around his shoulders.

"Did you get bad news from your father?" she gently asked.

Bad news? "You could say that," he replied. He opened his eyes, but he wouldn't look at her. Had no interest in looking at Clark Morgan either. He didn't want to see pity or concern in their eyes. He didn't want Kerry to look into his eyes and tell him he was lying to her again.

"Doctor Carter, who were you talking to?"

"No one. I --- Shit." John didn't know what to say or do.

Kerry glared at Clark, hoping he would get the hint to keep his mouth shut. John was not okay and she wanted to find out why so she could help him.

"Did your father give you more bad news about your uncle?"

"Chase." That was about all he trusted himself to say.

"If you tell them anything, then I'll hurt her again, Johnny." Joe stood near the stairs, smiling again. Knowing that he had him right where he wanted him. Just as he always did.

"Leave me alone. For mercy's sake, just leave me alone," John begged. His anger was gone and had been replaced by sadness. A sadness that he had been unable to keep his cousin from harm. A sadness that he was responsible for the death of his brother. A sadness that Joe could hold the well being of his friends over his head.

"I'll be right back." Kerry patted his shoulder, then left his room. Now if only that cop would leave, then maybe Joe would go and everything would be just fine.

"Find out what he knows, Johnny."

"Shut up," John hissed.

"I didn't say anything," Clark said. He was hoping that Kerry had gone to call for an ambulance or to get a sedative for John. It was obvious that the young man had reached a breaking point - maybe even passed it. His suspicion that John Carter had been one of Joe Thielen's victims was confirmed by John's mental state.

"You never say anything, do you? You only ask questions, but never give any information back. Do you have any idea at all who killed my uncle? Or are you just shooting arrows into the air and hoping they'll land on the killer?" John hoped that once Joe saw he was asking questions that he would leave. So far, it wasn't working.

"We're looking at a long list of suspects, Doctor Carter. A very long list."

"He didn't have any enemies, so how could it be a long list?" Joe was still there. "Go," John whispered at him.

Joe shook his head.

Kerry came back downstairs then and John looked up just in time to see her hide a syringe behind her back. He stood and backed away from the bed, shaking his head.

"No. I don't want to be sedated, Kerry. Please don't do this to me."

"John, you're overwrought. It's just enough to help you calm down. It won't knock you out."

He shook his head again. He was afraid that in a sedated state, he might reveal that his father, uncle and cousin had plotted to kill Joe. Then the police would know about it and so would Joe. He couldn't let that happen.

Kerry whispered something to Clark, then she sat down on the bed. "I assure you that nothing will happen to you, John. You're safe here."

"No. No one is safe here or anywhere else. He hurt you once and he'll do it again." He saw the anger in Joe's eyes and knew he had said something wrong.

"Who? Who hurt me, John?"

"Shut up right now, Johnny, or she'll get it. For keeps this time," Joe snarled.

John closed his eyes, trying to shut both of them out of his vision and mind.

"Do you think that Joe Thielen hurt me?" she softly asked.

"Yes," he whispered. He then winced as he heard Joe's shriek of rage. It was too late now to worry about him. "He made you fall in the shower."

"I slipped on soap, John. No one did that to me."

"He put the soap there and he locked the bathroom door so I couldn't help you."

"It was an accident, John. No person, dead or alive, did that to me."

It seemed to John that her voice sounded too near and he opened his eyes to see that she was standing no more than a hand's width away. He was trapped. Joe had disappeared though and Clark Morgan had left his room. It was only he and Kerry. He felt his shoulders slump as he realized that he had no more fight left inside. Kerry took his hand and led him back to his bed.

They sat down. "I wish you would let me give you the sedative, John. Things won't seem so --- so out of whack if you give yourself a chance to calm down and look at things objectively."

"Things are more than out of whack, Kerry."

"I know it seems like that to you now, but it will get better."

Kerry wasn't going to leave as easily as Joe had. He knew that she wouldn't go unless he gave in to her demands. Then it hit him that he had always had that same problem with his uncle. He wouldn't leave him alone until he had done what he wanted. So, some things never completely changed. He stuck his arm out to her and she quickly injected the sedative.

"Why don't you come upstairs with me? We can sit on the couch and talk. Or not. It's your choice."

"Fine. Whatever." He followed her upstairs and went to sit on the couch. Much to John's dismay, Clark Morgan had not left the house, he had merely come up to the kitchen.

Kerry pulled Clark aside. "Did you reach Roland Carter?"

Clark nodded. "He's on his way over now. I take it that you were able to sedate him?"

"Yeah." She suddenly frowned. "I left the syringe down there. I'll be right back. Keep an eye on him, okay?"

 "I will."

Clark went into the living room and had just sat down when they heard a crashing sound from downstairs.

"Kerry!" John shouted as he sprang to his feet, then he swayed slightly as the sedative was beginning to take effect.

"You sit down, I'll check on Kerry."

Clark rushed down the stairs. Kerry was in a heap at the bottom. As he reached her, she sat up.

"Are you okay?"

"I think I'm fine. I didn't hit my head or break anything. Help me up."

Clark helped her get to her feet. "What happened?"

"I tripped. On that." Kerry used her crutch to point to the syringe at her feet.

"You dropped it?"

"No. I didn't." Her eyes clouded over with worry. "Let's get back upstairs. I don't want to leave John alone, especially since he's so sure that Joe Thielen can harm me."

When they got upstairs, the look of relief on John's face was unmistakable. "I thought that he had pushed you down the stairs."

"I tripped over my own two feet, but I'm okay."

John knew she was lying to him, but he didn't have the energy to argue with her now. It was plain to him that his presence here was a danger to her. He was a danger to everyone he cared about. There had been many times during his life when he had considered suicide. But, he had always rejected that option. He was responsible for Bobby's death and he owed his parents for that. To take his own life would be taking the easy way out of his pain and guilt. Not to mention what it would do to his parents to lose another child. Now, he found himself considering it once again. And once again, he dismissed it as an option. If he was being tormented once more, then it was only because he deserved it. But, he certainly didn't have to stay here in Chicago. If he left, then there would be no way that Joe could hurt people just to get his own way. Let Joe figure out who killed him. John just hoped that finding the man who pulled the trigger didn't lead Joe back to his family.

 John felt grateful that neither Kerry nor Clark were intent on asking him any further questions. He was pretty sure that in his present physical condition he would be liable to tell them just about anything. He couldn't take the risk of implicating his relatives in his uncles' death, so he had decided to keep his mouth shut. Kerry's fall had shaken him, but the sedative had now taken effect and he didn't feel as upset as he had earlier. He also thought that she was beginning to believe that Joe had returned as a ghost and was intent on harming her. At least he hoped that's what that particular look in her eyes meant.

He rested his head against the back of the couch, wondering just what it was they were waiting on or for. He didn't have to wait much longer because the doorbell rang and Kerry went to answer it.

"Mr. Carter, Mrs. Carter, please come on in."

Shit. They had called his parents. He had been expecting a psychiatrist or an ambulance. He almost would have preferred going to the hospital over seeing his folks right now.

"Detective Morgan said that it was urgent we come over now," Roland said as he and his wife, Maureen entered the house.

"It is. John became very upset after your telephone call. So upset in fact, that I felt it necessary to administer a sedative."

John smiled weakly at his father. "I think she overreacted."

"You know that's not true," Kerry softly said.

John expected his parents to join him on the couch, but he was surprised when they made him move over so that he was flanked by each of them. Now he didn't know whom to avoid. His mother was like Kerry, she could take one look at him and know if he was lying or hiding anything from her. At times, his father was just hard to face period. So, he decided to just look down at his hands.

Clark Morgan cleared his throat. "Mr. Carter, it appears as if Joseph Thielen also molested John."

Damn him for bringing that up. He hadn't said anything had he? John shook his head. "No."

"John, you can't keep this secret any longer," Kerry gently prodded. "It's time to talk about it."

John felt tears welling up and he closed his eyes tightly, hoping he could keep from crying in front of everyone.

"John, is this true? Did Joe....try things with you?" Roland carefully asked.

"He said that he wouldn't touch anyone else," John whispered.

"Dear God." Roland leaned back against the cushions. Maureen simply reached out and took John's hand in her own.

Kerry and Morgan told them what they had overheard John shouting and then what he had said and done in their presence. The entire time they were speaking, John wanted to shout at them to shut up, wanted to warn them about the dangers involved in telling the truth - but he didn't. He couldn't. Not anymore. He wasn't sure if it was because of the sedative or because he was just tired of keeping it all a secret. He had been living with it for such a long time.

"To your knowledge, did he ever molest your brother?" Roland asked.

John shook his head. If Joe would have been messing with Bobby, then Bobby would have said something the night that John told Bobby about the abuse. But, he hadn't.

"Then Bobby wasn't writing about himself, was he?" Roland's voice was low.

"No, sir. He wasn't. I told Bobby about what Uncle Joe was doing. He promised me that he would tell you. He died the next day."

"And Joe was watching him that day," Maureen said. "I had to take Barbara to the pediatrician and Joe offered to stay with Bobby."

"He killed him." John blurted out. Everyone stared at him. "It's true. After I got home and found out that Bobby was dead, Uncle Joe took me aside and told me that he had killed Bobby. He smothered him with the pillow to keep Bobby from telling you what he knew. Uncle Joe said that he would kill anyone who I told." John was trembling now.

"I'm the reason that Bobby died that day."

"No, John. You're not. Bobby died from leukemia," Maureen hugged her son, holding him close.

"He had leukemia, but he didn't die from it. He wasn't sick at all then, Mom. I told him, even though Uncle Joe had vowed to kill anyone I told. I knew that and I still told Bobby. I killed him. It's all my fault." John pulled away from his mother, not wanting to look at her or anyone else. "And now I've told all of you and put you in danger as well."

"John, Joe is dead. He can't hurt anyone ever again," Roland said.

John shook his head. "He hurt Kerry. He did that to show me that he could still hurt people. No one is safe as long as they're around me."

As his parents continued in their efforts to convince him that Joe was dead - he had never debated that fact. Hell, he knew the bastard was dead. It was his ghost that was threatening everyone now - John closed his eyes and leaned back against the couch. He wanted to curl into a ball and hide. He couldn't stand the way his parents and Kerry were talking about him. He didn't like the way they kept staring at him as if he would explode in any second. He really didn't care about the cop being there anymore - it was too late to care about that. At least Joe hadn't appeared again. He knew he couldn't handle seeing him now.

They were talking about him, but he didn't want to hear what they had to say. He knew they thought he was crazy, but he couldn't find any way to convince them that Joe was coming back from the dead, haunting him. Stalking him. And they were all in danger from him.

"John?"

He lifted his head and looked at his father. "Yes, sir?"

"Why don't you pack a bag and come home with us? Just for tonight? You might feel safer in your old room."

John shook his head. Why couldn't they understand that he wasn't the one in danger? Joe wanted too much from him and wouldn't harm him.

"I'm safe here, Dad. I'm sorry that Kerry made you come over here for nothing."

"It wasn't nothing, son. I just wish that you would have been able to tell us sooner. So, you will make an appointment with a therapist of some sort?"

Had he agreed to that? He didn't remember. Hell, there was no way he could talk to a therapist. That would be putting another person in danger. The idea of leaving Chicago was looking better and better.

"Do you know what I would really like? I'd like to get away from here for a while."

"And go where?" Roland asked.

John shrugged. "I'm not sure. Maybe St. Bart's. I haven't been there in a long time."

"That sounds like a good idea. As far as I can recall, you haven't had a vacation since you became a doctor," Kerry said. "You should have two weeks each year."

"Then I would like to take my two weeks now. Is that a problem?"

John looked from Kerry to Clark Morgan.

The police detective shook his head. "You aren't a suspect in Thielen's death, so I don't see any reason why you can't leave."

"I have no problem letting you go and I'm sure that Mark won't either."

"What about Romano?"

"You don't need to worry about him. He has no say over vacation schedules," she replied. "When would you like to go?"

"As soon as possible. I need to check airfare prices though."

"No, you don't. We'll pay. As a matter of fact, we'll come with you," Roland assured him.

Clark Morgan cleared his throat. "Mr. Carter, under the circumstances, I don't think that would be a good idea."

"Meaning that I'm a suspect?" Roland sighed. "What about Maureen? Surely you don't suspect her as well?"

"She should stay in the area," he evenly replied. As far as Clark Morgan was concerned, Roland and Maureen Carter had moved up a few spaces on his suspect list. As had Branch Carter.

"I would rather go there alone anyway. I know the island well, so there's no reason why I can't go alone."

"Johnny, Johnny, Johnny," Joe chided. John looked up to see that his uncle was standing behind Kerry. "You know you can't go anywhere right now."

John decided to ignore him. Maybe if he did that the ghost would go away. Leave him alone. Finally and completely.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea, John." Kerry said. "I have some time off due, I could go with you."

"That's not necessary," he protested. How could he make them all safe if she came with him?

"You aren't going anywhere," Joe said. "Unless you want all of them to die."

"No," he whispered. "I don't want that to happen."

"What did you say?" Maureen asked.

John turned to look at her and she was taken aback by the fear in his eyes. She looked over his head to Roland, letting him know with one glance that all was definitely not right with their son.

"Nothing. It was a bad idea. I'll just stay here. No, that won't work either. He'll still go after Kerry. I'll find someplace else to stay." John's eyes took on a faraway look as he tried to think of where he could stay. Maybe with Romano? No one liked him much anyway and it wouldn't matter if he was hurt. Just as quickly as he had that thought, he mentally kicked himself for thinking it in the first place. No one deserved to be injured or killed because of him. No one else, he amended. Too many people had been harmed already.

"Son, you need to pull yourself together," Roland put a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. John shrugged it off, then stood.

"I feel as if I'm going to fall asleep any minute. I'm going downstairs."

"You go right ahead, Johnny. I'll just hang around up here and listen. Maybe the cop will let something important slip," Joe smirked.

"I'll help you get downstairs." Roland said.

Once downstairs, John looked carefully around the room, making sure that Joe had indeed, remained upstairs. Then he turned to his father. "I was so afraid that I would say something about you guys killing him."

"It wouldn't have mattered, John. We were talking this morning and discovered that neither one of us had yet hired anyone to do the job. We have no idea who killed Joe, but it wasn't someone hired by the three of us."

A mixture of relief and fear swept over John over hearing that. It was good to know that his father, uncle and cousin were not guilty of murder. However, he also knew that Joe wasn't going to leave him alone until he had found out who the killer was. Provided he could find a way to convince Clark Morgan to drop the investigation. It would be a lot easier if Joe had known his killer - a whole lot easier.

"Let's get you into bed, son. You look as if you're going to keel over at any moment." Roland turned back the covers, then helped him get into bed.

"Do you want me to stay?" Roland asked.

John shook his head. "That won't be necessary. I'll be fine."

Roland nodded. "I hope so, son. I really do hope so." He walked over to the steps, then turned around to face John. "Son, I'm sorry."

John stifled a yawn. "For what?"

"For not being there when you needed me. I feel that I failed you as a father. It was my job to protect you. Hell, it still is as far as I'm concerned."

"You didn't fail me, Dad. I should have told someone about Uncle Joe sooner. Maybe things would have turned out differently. Maybe Bobby would still be alive."

Roland walked back over to him, seating himself on the edge of the bed. "John, you can't blame yourself for Bobby's death. He died from leukemia and not from something Joe did. Joe probably told you that he killed Bobby in order to make you fear him and it worked. But, we had already been told that Bobby had days to live. The doctors told us that we shouldn't be fooled when Bobby seemed to be better, that it was a false remission. We just didn't want to tell you kids that his time was limited."

"I know what Uncle Joe told me, Dad. He was very specific about the details of how he killed Bobby. And it was my fault. I have a tendency of doing that, you know? Being responsible for the deaths of other people."

"Johnny, not even the best doctor can save everyone. You shouldn't blame yourself if you lose a patient."

John shook his head. "I wasn't talking about a patient. First there was Bobby, then there was Dennis Gant. I almost killed Chase. And this year there was Lars Audia - he died from the bullets that were meant for me. I'm a danger to people, especially to those people I care about."

"That's not true and you know it. You're just talking that way because of the sedative. When you wake up, you'll see that things aren't like that."

John closed his eyes. There was no point in arguing with his father. Roland wasn't the one seeing Joe's ghost and hearing his threats.

Roland remained seated on the bed until he was sure that John was asleep and not just closing his eyes in an effort to make him go away. He felt betrayed by his brother-in-law and wished like Hell that he had been the one responsible for his death. He also felt that he had let his youngest son down. A father had a duty to protect his children, to keep them from all harm. He had failed to do that. How could he have continually put John in Joe's clutches? Remembering what Bobby had written down, Roland knew that the abuse had gone on for years. He couldn't come close to imagining what John must have been going through during that time. The thoughts that must have run through his mind. Had he hoped and prayed that Joe would just stop on his own? Or maybe he kept hoping that his Daddy would find out about the abuse and put a stop to it? Either way, neither option had happened. And now Joe was dead and Roland had no way to tell him just what he thought about him. He wanted to rip him apart, but the reality was that Joe Thielen was now beyond pain and retribution. The only ones hurting now were his victims, and Roland had a bad feeling that they all were going to be hurting for a long time. A very long time.

When Roland returned upstairs, he sat down by his wife. He reached out to take her hand in his, wanting some type of comfort.

"How is he?" Maureen asked.

"He's asleep."

Kerry nodded. "I didn't want to sedate him enough to put him out immediately, but I was sure that once he was calm that he would find it easier to drift off."

"How long has he been like this?" Maureen asked.

"I'm not exactly sure what you mean," Kerry replied. "Like this as in very upset or like this as in talking to someone or something that only he can see?"

"Both," Roland answered.

"He's been edgy since the day his uncle died. The man was brought to our emergency room, but John didn't recognize him. Not through any fault of his own though. There wasn't enough of a face to recognize. As for the other, this evening is the first indication I've had that he thinks a ghost is haunting him. Although, there have been some things he's said and done that make more sense now that I know."

Clark cleared his throat. "I'm done with the door, so I think I'll be leaving now. That way the three of you can talk without being afraid of revealing something that might be incriminating."

"I'll see you to the door," Kerry walked him to the doorway.

"Thank you for all of your help."

"It was no problem at all, Kerry. You know, when this is all over, I really would like to go out to dinner with you. Do I stand a chance of having you accept my invitation?"

"I'm not sure. I think my answer will depend a lot on how you conduct this investigation. I'm not very forgiving when people I care about get hurt, Clark."

"And you care about John Carter," it was a statement, not a question.

"Yes, I do. Not in a romantic sense, but I do care about him."

"Well, then I guess I'll just have to wait in order to get my answer. Call me if you need me for anything."

"Thanks for the offer, but I have John here."

"Kerry, John is bigger than you. If he should...lose all touch with reality, you will need help."

 "That's not going to happen, Clark."

They regarded each other for a few moments, both sure that the other was wrong.

"Well, good night, Kerry." Earlier he had put the old door out on the sidewalk and now he picked it up so he could haul it away.

 "Thank you again, Clark." She watched him put the door in the bed of his pick up truck, then get into the cab. She returned to the living room where Roland and Maureen were quietly talking.

"John never did agree to go into therapy. He needs help in dealing with all of this." Kerry sat down.

"We were just talking about that. I know he saw someone for a short time after Dennis Gant died. She worked at the same hospital, but I don't know her name." Roland said.

"I believe that was Nina Pomerantz. She was the psychiatrist who was asked to counsel Dennis' friends and co-workers after his death. A few people from the E.R. staff saw her as well. She's no longer working at County, but she's still in the Chicago area. I think that John might feel more comfortable speaking with someone he already knows," Kerry said.

Roland and Maureen nodded. When Bobby had died they had been encouraged to put Barbara and John into counseling for a short time. In John's case it had been a very short time indeed because he refused to talk to the therapist. At the time, Maureen had thought he was being stubborn and Roland had felt that John didn't need grief counseling. Now they knew that he had felt responsible for Bobby's death.

Roland groaned. "I just can't imagine what it's been like for him to carry around guilt for a death that he didn't cause." He rested his head in his hands. "I can't imagine what any of this has been like for him. It seems that the more I try to envision how he must have felt, the more I feel overwhelmed by it all."

"Mr. Carter, it might not be a bad idea for you and Mrs. Carter to seek counseling as well. I'm sure that the two of you are going to be having trouble dealing with your feelings right now," Kerry gently suggested. What she really thought would be helpful would be for them to attend sessions with John, but she kept quiet about that. The most important thing was to get John into counseling.

Maureen nodded. "You're right. I think it would do us some good. Perhaps Branch should go as well? I just can't believe that a person I trusted would betray me in such a way."

"No one can," Roland muttered.

"It's a sad fact that the majority of children who are sexually abused are done so at the hands of relatives or close friends - people they know," Kerry said.

"Doctor Weaver, would it be all right if we stayed here tonight? I can easily sleep in one of your chairs and Maureen can sleep on the couch."

"I don't have a problem with it, Mr. Carter. But, there's no need for you to sleep in a chair or on the couch. The two of you are more than welcome to use my room. I'll sleep on the couch."

"Thank you for the offer, but I would prefer to stay down here. It's closer to John if he should need someone." Roland looked over at his wife, who nodded her agreement.

Kerry nodded. She understood how important it was for them to be near John right now. Of course, if they would have remained near to him when he was younger, then maybe the abuse would have never happened.

"I'll get you some sheets and pillows. And please, since you'll be staying here you might as well call me Kerry."

"In that case, there's no reason for you to call us Mister and Missus Carter. Roland and Maureen will do just fine. Whenever I hear someone say "Mister Carter" I want to turn around to see if my father is standing behind me," Roland managed a small smile.

"I know what you mean. There are times when I look for my mother if someone calls me Ms. Weaver. I'll get those sheets for you." Kerry headed upstairs.

"You blame me for this, don't you?" Roland asked his wife.

She shook her head. "Why would I blame you? You didn't do anything to John."

"Except leave him in the care of that bastard."

"You left him with your sister and her husband. God, Roland, if you can't trust your own family, then who can you trust?"

"No one I guess." Roland was quiet for a moment. "This is going to kill Emily. She's always been fond of John. For her to find out that her husband did this to him..."

"He has a name, Roland."

"I would prefer to forget that I ever knew it. God, Maureen, I thought I knew the man. He was my friend before he was Emily's husband. We did so much together and when he met Emily and they fell in love, I thought it was the greatest thing in the world. One of my best friends marrying my sister, becoming family. Not once did I ever get a glimpse of the monster that was lurking inside of Joe. That's why I never hesitated to leave my children in his care so we could travel. That's why Branch never hesitated. We trusted Joe. We believed in him."

"And now you find out that he let you down."

"He let all of us down, Maureen. God, I wish he were still alive just so I could have the pleasure of ripping his guts out with my bare hands."

"I think you'd need to stand in line for that pleasure, Roland."

"We had planned to kill him, you know. Branch, Casey and me. After Casey found the notes that Bobby had written. We all thought he had molested Bobby. We never dreamed that Chase and John had been harmed as well."

"But, you didn't kill him."

"No. Someone beat us to it. I'd like to know whom it was so I could shake his hand and tell him that it was a job well done. Does that make me a monster, too?" He beseechingly asked.

Maureen shook her head. "No, that makes you a concerned and loving parent."

"Oh, yeah, I'm real loving and concerned all right. Too quick to criticize my children and too slow to praise them. Too stupid to see that my son has spent all these years scared to death of his uncle. Too blind to see the guilt he's been carrying around inside."

"Roland, we can only see what John allows us to see."

"But, we're his parents, Maureen! We're supposed to see below the surface. It's our job, our duty. Do you realize that we've lived our lives making our children fit into our schedules? We never made accommodations for them. Never once. Except for when Bobby was sick. And then we made John and Barbara make their lives fit into Bobby's. If we wanted to travel, we palmed our children off on someone else to watch. If we wanted to go out, the maid and butler watched them. Then when they were older, we shipped them off to boarding school and we no longer had to worry about what to do with them. We only had to deal with them a few times during the school year and over the summer. And even then, we still neglected them."

"Roland, you're feeling shock and guilt because you just found out a horrible thing. Don't be so hard on yourself. We never neglected our children. We made sure they were fed and clothed. Made sure they had an excellent education. We gave them anything they desired. When Bobby was diagnosed with leukemia, we left no stone unturned in our quest to cure him. We've been good parents, Roland."

"I wish I could believe that as easily as you do," he murmured. He reached into his pocket and got out his cell phone. "I'm going to call Branch. I'm sure they're all worried about why we were called over here."

While he was talking to his brother, Kerry returned with the sheets, pillows and two lightweight blankets.

"Thank goodness the air conditioning has been repaired. We were without it for a few days and it made for some uncomfortable sleeping,"

Kerry told Maureen.

"Well, it feels just fine in here now. We really appreciate this, Kerry."

"It's not an imposition for me, Maureen. I should warn you though that I'll be up early in the morning. I have to be to work by six. John was scheduled to be in at the same time, but under the circumstances, I think I'll let him have the day off."

"He's going to be upset with you about that," Maureen observed. "He hates to be coddled."

"I've noticed that about him. There, I think the couch is ready now. The bathroom is upstairs, first door on the right. I think you'll find everything you need in there. I put out some toothbrushes for you. Luckily for you, I buy in bulk," Kerry smiled.

"Thank you. We'll try to be quiet."

"Good night." Kerry went upstairs to go to bed. She had only spoken to John's parents on the phone a few times and they had been short conversations with hardly any substance. Even though she had just spent over an hour in the same room with them, she didn't feel as if she knew them any better than she did before they came over. She got ready for bed, thinking about her own family - Bob and Janet Weaver, the childless couple who had adopted her. They were wonderful parents, full of love and enthusiasm. They had always been there for her, willing to drop whatever they were doing to look at her latest Play Dough creation or read her a story. She missed them a lot. Before she got into bed, she gently touched the family photo that had prominence on her nightstand. They had been taken from her suddenly, killed in a car accident last year. And now she found herself trying to track down the woman who had given birth to her. The woman who had decided she couldn't keep her. The woman who had been kind enough to give her Bob and Janet Weaver.

"Thank you," she whispered as she turned out the light.

Roland and Maureen were quietly reading the morning paper when they heard someone running up the basement stairs. The door slammed open and John rushed into the room, clearly angry.

"I slept through my alarm and no one woke me. I'm supposed to be at work right now."

"Kerry gave you the day off," Roland replied. "And you didn't sleep through your alarm. I turned if off last night."

John had to bite his tongue to keep from saying something he knew he would regret. "Well, I didn't ask for a day off." He turned on his heels and rushed back downstairs. Minutes later they could hear the sound of the shower.

"Stubborn, isn't he?" Roland asked his wife.

"Just like his father, dear," she evenly replied.

"More like his grandfather. Do you think we should call Kerry and warn her that he's coming in?"

Maureen nodded. "I think that would be the wise thing to do. I doubt if we'll make any headway with trying to talk him out of going in to work today."

Roland put down the paper and called Kerry, letting her know that John was awake and angry. He told her that he was determined to come to work, but that he and Maureen would try to talk him into staying home. Kerry let him know that she didn't expect them to succeed and then thanked him for calling.

"She's been warned," Roland sighed as he picked up the paper again. He wasn't really reading the article anymore. Instead he was trying to think of some argument that would keep his son home. Sighing, he put down the paper and headed to the basement to try to talk some sense into his son.

Kerry approached Mark. "We need to talk," she said.

"Okay. How about the lounge?"

She shook her head. "Too risky. This is private Mark. Very private."

"Okay, let's step outside then."

They let Randi know they were going out and then they walked down to the make shift basketball court.

"What's on your mind?"

"It's Carter."

"I figured as much by the way you told me he had the day off. It's got something to do with his uncle's death, right?"

"More like something to do with his uncle's life, Mark. The man was a child molester. Not that it's news to anyone who gets the newspaper. God knows it's been mentioned often enough since the day he died."

"You're telling me that Carter was one of his victims, aren't you?"

Kerry nodded. "Please keep this confidential. I just found out for sure yesterday. Not only Carter, but also his cousin Chase."

"Man." Mark found himself clenching his fists. If someone touched his daughter, abused her in any way, he would kill him or her without hesitation.

"It gets a little more complicated, Mark."

"How much more complicated can it be?"

"John is convinced that his uncle's ghost is haunting him. He said that the man has threatened harm to people that John cares about. According to John, I didn't accidentally slip on soap in my bathtub - his uncle made me fall in an attempt to prove to John that he was serious."

"You have encouraged him to see a psychiatrist, haven't you?"

"For the abuse, yes. For the rest, well no. I'm not entirely convinced that a ghost isn't hanging around."

"I hope you have a good reason for telling me that."

"I do." Kerry told him about her fall on the stairs. A fall caused when she slipped on the syringe. A syringe that she knew had been no where near the stairs.

"Okay, I'll admit that it's weird, but you can't expect me to believe that a ghost did that to you."

"I'm beginning to believe it. Mark, my bathroom door was locked when I slipped on the soap. I never lock my bathroom door when I'm taking a bath or a shower. Never. But, it was locked. As for the syringe, I know for sure that I set it down on John's bed. His bed is not near the stairs, Mark."

"Kerry, it sounds as if you need a day off as well. Maybe you should go home and get some rest. Tomorrow, things will look different."

"I don't need any rest, Mark. Besides, we've got our own problem to deal with here. John's parents just called me. He's determined to come to work."

Mark thought about that for a second. "Well, we should let him. We can keep an eye on him and if it seems as if his preoccupation with ghosts is getting in the way of his job, then we can send him home."

"Mark, it's not a preoccupation with ghosts. He seriously believes that this man is talking to him and threatening people." Kerry lowered her voice. "And I'm beginning to think he might be right."

Mark didn't know what more to say. He didn't believe in ghosts, but it was obvious that Kerry did. At least she believed in this one.

"Well, we'll see what happens when Carter gets here, okay?" he gently said.

Kerry nodded, knowing that was the best they could do at the moment. Together, they went back inside. As she watched Mark head to the curtain area to see a patient, Kerry tried to gather her thoughts. She could have sworn that when she went out to get her morning paper that she had seen Clark Morgan's pick up truck parked down the street. She wouldn't be surprised to find that he had watched her house all night. Like Mark, Clark Morgan was another one who didn't seem or want to believe in the presence of spirits. But, she knew better. Reaching for a chart, she thought of how much easier the day would be if Roland and Maureen did manage to keep John at home. But, she knew they wouldn't succeed. Her boarder was too stubborn by far.

The boarder in question angrily faced his father. It had been a shock to come out of the bathroom to find someone sitting on his bed. At first he thought it had been Joe, but then he saw it was his father. Wordlessly, John had gathered his clothing together, then went back into the bathroom to change, wanting and needing privacy. Finally ready to face the world, John left the bathroom, prepared to fight his father over something as stupid as going to work.

"You and Mom stayed overnight." He accused.

"Yes, we did. We wanted to be here in case you needed us."

"In case I needed you?" John laughed at that statement. Where had they been when he really needed them? All the nights he spent alone, near tears and frightened, knowing he had killed his own brother with his careless words. It seemed that everything else in the world took priority over him and the other children. The South of France in springtime was far more important than staying home with the kids. John shook his head. "It never mattered to you before when I needed you. When Barbara needed you. Go on and go. I'm sure that there's a casino in Monte Carlo or a nightclub in Thailand that has a room reserved in your name. I don't need you anymore."

"Son, you know good and well that your mother and I don't travel for pleasure, but for business. I know that's not a valid excuse though and I'm sorry that I wasn't here to keep Joe from hurting you. If I had known what he was doing to you, then I would have put a stop to it. But, I didn't know. You never said anything to me."

"Would it have really mattered if I did? Aunt Emily and Uncle Joe were convenient babysitters for you and Mom. You knew you could drop us off with them and not have to worry about where we were. You were so sure of yourselves, weren't you? You know, I've often found myself wondering just why in the name of God you and Mom decided to have children? It was plain that you never wanted us."

"That's not true and you know it. We have always wanted the three of you."

"I guess it's true enough that Barbara and I provide you with someone on whom you can pile criticisms. God knows you do that often enough. So, tell me Dad, just what do you think of where I live?" John swung his arm to encompass the entire room. "Do you approve of my place? Does my landlady meet your expectations? Not quite the dump that the dorm room was, is it? Well, guess what, Dad? You own apartment buildings where the entire apartment is the size of my room. Were you aware of that, or have you been too busy collecting your rent and watching your millions grow? Do you even care about the people who pay that rent to you?"

"I'm not going to sit here and argue with you about the apartments. You have voiced your opinion on numerous occasions, John. Kerry wants you to take the day off. She's not expecting you to show up for work."

"I didn't ask for the day off and I have no intention of taking it. Excuse me, but I have to go now." John grabbed his bag, then headed upstairs. He exchanged a brusque hello with his mother, then left. Roland slowly came upstairs.

"No luck I see," Maureen commented.

"None at all," he replied. "We should get our stuff together and go back to the house. I'm sure that Branch has filled everyone in on the latest developments."

"Are you sure you feel up to facing Jacob? You know that he's going to be blaming you and Branch for allowing Joe to molest our children."

"Don't even think that way, Maureen. I'm hoping that for once in his life my father will be human."

"I guess there is a first time for everything, dear."

Roland sank down into the chair, holding his aching head in his hands. "It just occurred to me that the evidence was right in front of my face all this time and I ignored it."

"What are you talking about?" Maureen laid a gentle hand on the back of his head, moving it to his arm when he raised his head to look at her.

"John mentioned Thailand and the frequent trips we've taken there over the past couple of years. Who did we always see there?."

"We would run into Joe there." Then the meaning of what he was saying sank in and she closed her eyes. Thailand had the unfortunate reputation as being the place to go if you wanted to get your hands on a child prostitute, male or female. "Oh, Roland, you would have had no way to know he went there for that. Jacob does business there, so it was only natural for him to send Joe."

Roland shook his head. "Joe always volunteered to go to Bangkok. I remember Emily saying something about that and how she didn't like to travel and would stay home while he went. God only knows what he did while there."

"Roland, you can't keep going there. It's only going to drive you crazy."

Roland sighed, knowing his wife was right. Still, he couldn't keep his mind away from those thoughts. He wanted to know just what Joe had done to John. He wanted to know the many reasons he had to hate him.

Mark was at the desk when John arrived, looking more than a little rushed.

"Sorry I'm late. I overslept," John said as he logged into the computer.

"No problem. It's been a quiet morning."

"Is Doctor Weaver around?"

"She's in with a patient. Why don't you get yourself settled and then we'll see what's on the board for you?"

"Sure."

Mark watched as John disappeared into the lounge, then he looked up at the board. If he chose an easy case for him to handle, then he would suspect that Kerry had told him about last night. But, he wasn't sure that he wanted to trust him with a difficult case. Not yet anyway.

He was still trying to decide what to do when a trauma came through the doors. John was coming out of the lounge at the time, so he and Mark ended up being the doctors on the case, a young victim of yet another drive-by shooting.

Mark let John take the lead on the case, giving himself the opportunity to watch him at work. Peter Benton was summoned, in case the young teen lived long enough to make it to surgery, but in the end, it didn't matter how many doctors were present in Trauma One - the teen died anyway. Peter finally called the time of death.

Mark sighed. "I hate days like this."

"Such a waste," Peter agreed.

"It is a waste," Joe agreed, appearing on the other side of the room. "A cute kid like that could have provided someone with hours of pleasure."

John closed his eyes. Why did that bastard have to follow him to work? He had pestered him on the El, but John had managed to avoid talking back to him. He knew now that Joe would keep saying more and more outrageous things just to get his attention. Well, it wasn't going to work.

"Are you okay?" Mark asked.

John opened his eyes and nodded as he tried to not notice that Joe was now standing by the body. "I'm fine. Excuse me." He left the room and headed for the desk. He needed something to keep himself busy. Even a stubbed toe would be good right now.

"Carter isn't looking so good this morning. He's not ill, is he?" Peter asked.

"Kerry mentioned that he wasn't feeling up to par last night, but she didn't think it was anything contagious."

"Good. But, you should think about sending him home if he doesn't start to feel better. An ill doctor won't do anyone any good."

"I know." Mark headed to the desk, letting the nurses do their job of clearing the room.

"Hey!" Jerry exclaimed in disbelief as the computer screen went black. "What happened?"

"The computer's unplugged, Jerry," Mark said as he handed the cord to him.

"How did that happen?"

"Maybe it got caught on your foot or something. Carter, why don't you take the rash in curtain three?"

"Sure." John grabbed the chart, ignoring Joe and his antics. It had been mean of him to unplug the computer. Jerry had been on the verge of winning that hand of solitaire when Joe cut him off. Now Joe was walking alongside him to the curtain area.

"You can't ignore me forever, Johnny. I'll follow you around all day."

"Go away," John hissed, keeping his voice low.

"No can do, Johnny. I keep getting the impression that you aren't doing all you can to find my killer. You need some motivation."

John ignored the ghost, who for some reason, decided to leave him alone while he treated his patient. The minute he was done though, Joe was back to bug him.

"Call the cop. Ask how the investigation is going. Now that you've spilled your worthless guts to him, he'll feel sorry for you and want to keep you updated."

"I'm at work right now and I have to concentrate on that. I'll call later."

"Who will you call?" Chuni asked as she passed him on her way to the admit desk.

 "My folks." John quickly lied. He put the folder in the completed basket, then looked for another patient."

"How are they doing? I think it's just so sad that someone could be murdered in broad daylight like that." She commented.

"I like this lady. She appreciates the fact that I didn't deserve to die like that."

"You deserved worse," John softly said.

"Huh?" Randi asked.

"Got anything for me?" he asked.

She popped her gum as she considered his question, then she reached over and pulled a folder from the middle of the stack. "Stomach pains in four."

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

John read over the chart as he walked away, not noticing that Clark Morgan had come into the emergency room.

"Is Doctor Weaver around?" he asked Randi.

"Yep." The gum popped once more.

"May I see her?"

Randi finally looked up from her book, looking him up and down before she nodded. "Chuni, do you know where Doctor Weaver is?"

"Lounge. I'll get her."

Chuni disappeared into the lounge and a minute later Kerry emerged from the room. She smiled as she saw Clark at the desk.

"Hello again," she said.

"Good morning. I trust that you had a quiet night."

Kerry warily eyed Randi, who was intently watching the couple.

"Shall we go outside to talk?" Kerry didn't wait for an answer, she just headed out the door. Clark had no choice but to follow.

"There are some things that I don't want the staff to overhear," she explained when he caught up to her.

"Of course. So? Was it a quiet night?"

"You tell me? Did you see any lights get cut on in the middle of the night? Hear any screams?"

"I don't know what you mean, Kerry."

"I saw your truck this morning, Clark. I know you watched my house last night."

 He had the decency to blush as he realized he had been caught. "Yes, I watched your house last night."

"Why?"

"I wanted to make sure that everything was all right."

"Even though it was plain that Roland and Maureen Carter had stayed overnight as well? You couldn't have missed their car out front."

"I didn't. I can't help it if I wanted to make sure you were safe, Kerry."

"Right. Well, I'm here and fine. Is that all you came by to ask?"

"No. We've found the owner of the shotgun. It wasn't Joseph Thielen."

"Really? So that makes you even more sure it was murder, right?"

"Right. Do you know a Dennis Gant?"

"I knew a Dennis Gant. He was an intern here a few years ago. He died when he fell in front of a transit train. Why?"

"He's the owner of the gun."

"That's impossible. Dennis has been dead for over two years."

"The registration is to a Dennis Gant at a Chicago address."

"I would have thought that his father would have taken the gun back home with him. He flew up here to gather Dennis' belongings after he died."

"I see. Do you know his name or have an address for him?"

"Same name. Dennis Gant, Senior. I don't have an address. Personnel might still have Dennis' records. John might have it, too."

"John Carter?"

"Yes. He was Dennis Gant's roommate."

"Really? For how long?"

"For quite a while. After Dennis died, John stayed on at the apartment. He finally gave it up last summer. He should be able to tell you if Mr. Gant took the shotgun home with him."

"I guess I need to go to your house then."

"John's here. He came to work today." Even as Kerry said that, she began to feel that she might have said too much to Clark Morgan.

"I'd like to speak with him."

"Wait here. I'll go get him." Kerry hastily made her way inside.

"Randi? Do you know where Carter went?"

"Curtain four."

"Thanks."

Kerry headed there. John seemed to be in the middle of an exam, but she interrupted him anyway. Maggie or someone else could handle the patient.

"Doctor Carter, I need to see you outside. It's very important."

John smiled apologetically at his patient, a thirty-ish woman who didn't care how long he took as long as he kept smiling at her. "I'll be right back."

 "I'll be here, Doctor Carter," she sighed.

He stepped over to Kerry. "What's up?"

"Outside please." She started to walk away, then noticed he wasn't following her. "Clark Morgan wants to talk to you."

"Why won't he leave me alone?"

"They know who owns the gun that killed your uncle."

"You had better go talk to him. This could be a vital clue, Johnny. Find the owner of the gun and you just might find my killer," Joe urged.

"I don't care."

"John, please? It won't take long for you to talk to him. I'll be there with you."

"Go," Joe ordered.

John sighed, then headed for the door, not caring if Kerry followed him. He wanted to wake up and find out this was all just a nightmare, but he knew that wasn't going to happen.

The detective was leaning up against the building, smoking a cigarette. He stubbed it out against the bricks as he watched John approach him.

"Kerry said that you know who owns the gun that killed my uncle?"

"That's right. It was registered to Dennis Gant. Kerry tells me that you and Mr. Gant were roommates prior to his death."

"Doctor."

"Excuse me?"

"Dennis was a doctor," John frowned. He didn't remember Dennis owning a gun of any kind. Dennis had mentioned going hunting with his father, so obviously he knew how to shoot.

"Sorry. Do you know if the gun was taken back to Georgia?"

"I don't remember Dennis having a gun in the apartment. He never mentioned owning one. The day that Mr. Gant arrived to pack up Dennis' stuff, I took him to the apartment, but I had to return to work. He might have packed it while I was gone."

"Do you have a telephone number for Mr. Gant? I'd like to ask him about the gun."

John had it, but he really didn't want to give it to him. He didn't want Clark Morgan dredging up painful memories by his questions.

"I can get it from Personnel if you don't have it, but that will take more time. I don't know about you, but I'm anxious to get this

case closed one way or another."

"That would be nice," John sarcastically replied. "I have the number, but it's at home."

"Then I guess I'll go to Personnel. You know, Doctor Carter, there are times when I get the feeling that you don't want me to find the person who killed your Uncle. I can understand that you might not feel any remorse or grief over his death, but I would think that, if nothing else, you would want to thank the person who did it."

"Murder is never right, Detective Morgan. If it even is a case of murder. I would have been perfectly happy if the police department would have ruled it a suicide and let it go at that. That way, my Aunt Emily could have buried that bastard in peace and gotten on with her life. Now she has to wait until the police department tells her it's okay for her to bury him. She has to live with the knowledge that he was a...a child molester. I'm sure that by now, she's heard about me and I'm also sure that she'll never want to have anything to do with me again. And all thanks to the Chicago Police Department."

Without waiting for a response, John turned around and went back inside.

"I'm sorry," Kerry said.

Clark shook his head. "There's nothing for you to apologize about, Kerry. He has a right to be upset. What he needs is to see a therapist about all of this or else it will eat him up inside."

"His parents and I talked about that, plus I've urged him to get counseling. John's a stubborn man, but I know that he'll seek help. He has seen a psychiatrist before, back when Dennis Gant died. A lot of staff members sought counseling at that time."

Clark nodded. "Good. Now, if you would be so kind as to point me in the direction of the Personnel office?"

"Of course."

It was a little over an hour later when Mark heard Malik call for him from down the hallway. As Mark waited for Malik to reach him he noticed that the male nurse looked worried.

"What's up?" Mark asked.

"It's Carter. I went into the drug room and found him sitting on the floor in there. He refuses to come out. He just keeps saying that maybe Joe, whoever that is, won't find him in there."

Mark sighed as he nodded. "Thanks, Malik. I'll see what I can do."

"I've never seen Carter like this, Doctor Greene. It's a little scary, you know what I mean?"

"Yeah. I know what you mean. I'll go talk to him. Can you do me a favor?"

"Sure."

"Find Kerry and let her know, okay? And Malik, keep this quiet."

Malik nodded, then headed off to look for Kerry while Mark headed for the drug room. As he was about to enter the area, he could hear John inside, crying and pleading for someone to leave him alone. He opened the door and stepped inside. John was huddled in the corner, looking up into the other corner, his tear stained face a clear testament to his frustrations.

"Please just go away and let me do my job," John said to the corner.

"Carter? John?" Mark knelt down in front of him, trying to get his attention. "John, look at me."

John turned his head to look at Mark. "He won't leave me alone," he whispered.

"And why should I? You were right there with that cop and he had told you that they knew who owned the gun that I was shot with and what did you do? You ran away from him. You could have helped him find my killer, Johnny. I swear, you act like you're glad I'm dead."

"I am!" he shouted, looking back over to Joe as he scrambled to his feet. "I wished for so many years that you would just drop dead and leave me alone. I'm happy that you're dead. Now go away and leave me alone."

"Shh, it's going to be all right, John," Mark softly said as he gathered John into his arms. "You need to calm down right now though, okay? Everything will be all right."

John buried his face in Mark's shoulder, sobbing. "I'm glad he's dead, so very glad that he's dead. Is that so wrong?"

"No, John. It's not so wrong. He hurt you and you have every right to feel that way." Out of the corner of his eye, Mark saw Kerry enter the small room, a syringe in her hand. He shook his head and she put the syringe in the pocket of her lab coat, then stepped up to them.

"John? Why don't I take you home now?"

"It won't matter. He'll be there, too. He's everywhere I go, Kerry. I just want him to leave me alone."

"I know, honey. I know." She reached out and gently smoothed down his hair. "Let's go home."

John slowly nodded and allowed Mark and Kerry to escort him out. They stopped by the admit desk long enough for Mark to tell Randi that he and Kerry were taking John home but that he would be back. Then they went out to Mark's van.

Kerry crawled into the back seat with John, cradling him against her chest the entire trip home, talking to him in a low voice. She was doing her best to convince him to see a psychiatrist so he would have someone to talk things over with. Someone who would know what to say or do to help him.

"The only help I need right now is for him to leave me alone, Kerry."

"I know you believe that, John, but there's a lot more bothering you than Joe Thielen's ghost. You need to deal with what happened. All of it."

"I have dealt with it. I have a good life, Kerry. I just want him to leave me alone."

"We'll find a way to make that happen, okay?"

He nodded. Mark came to a stop in front of Kerry's house, then helped her get John inside and to his room. It didn't take much convincing on their part to allow them to sedate him. He remembered that while he had been out of it last night, Joe had been unable to bother him. As a matter of fact, the only thing that had happened while he was asleep was that he dreamt about his brother. Bobby kept telling him that things would get better soon. John wanted so much to believe that, but deep down he knew it wasn't going to happen.

After getting John tucked into bed, Mark and Kerry went back upstairs.

"If something like this happens again, then I won't be able to just bring him home, Kerry."

"I know." She sighed, resigned to the fact that Mark was determined to get help for John one way or another if this didn't stop. If only she could convince Mark that a ghost was tormenting John, then maybe Mark would be a little more understanding. After all, no one called for a psych consult when he tore the lounge apart not so long after his beating.

"Do you want me to come over later?"

She shook her head. "No. We'll be fine. I can handle John."

"Can you? What if he gets violent?"

"He won't get violent, Mark. Trust me, I can handle John."

"I guess I have to trust you, don't I?"

She nodded. "That's true. You need to get back to work before Romano notices that we're both gone. You're going to have to come up with some kind of an excuse for why John and I aren't at work."

"I'll think of something. Benton mentioned earlier that Carter didn't look well, so I might be able to get by with telling Romano that Carter got sick and you didn't want to leave him alone.

Kerry nodded. "That should work."

"Kerry, call me if you need anything."

"I will."

Mark left and Kerry locked the door, then she went upstairs to change out of her work clothes. Their exit from the hospital had been so sudden that all three of them had left wearing their lab coats. It wasn't a problem for Mark since he was going right back, but Kerry made a mental note to remember to take hers back to work with her in the morning. And to make sure that John took his in as well.

It was after six in the evening when Clark Morgan caught up to Kerry at home.

"I heard there was an incident at the hospital," he commented as she poured him a glass of tea.

"Yeah." She wearily sat down. The frequent trips she kept making to the basement to check on John were beginning to take a toll on her. "So, what brings you here?"

"I'd love to say it was you and only you, but that's not true. I called Mr. Gant and he told me that he did ship the gun back to Atlanta. He remembers putting it into the box and then packing some more items. Then John got home and they went out to dinner. After that, he packed away some more items, then sealed the box for shipping. He's never opened the box. It's been sitting in his garage all this time. I asked him to make sure that gun was still there, so he went and opened the box. When he got back on the line, he was a little upset. Hell, he was more than a little upset."

"The gun wasn't there, was it?"

"No. According to Mr. Gant, the box was still taped the way he had taped it here in Chicago. The way I see it, there are only two people who could have removed that gun from the box before it was sealed."

"Mr. Gant and John."

"Right. And Mr. Gant had no reason to remove it."

"Neither did John."

"Maybe. Maybe not. Perhaps he felt that if he had a gun then he could threaten Joe Thielen. Make him stay away from him and anyone else."

"John told you that he didn't even know that Dennis had a gun."

Clark shook his head. "No. He told me that he didn't know Dennis kept a gun in the apartment. That's not the same thing, Kerry."

"John did not take that shotgun."

Clark took a sip of his tea. "I pulled the file on Dennis Gant. There were a lot of interviews done."

"The police ruled that it was an accidental death. They said the witnesses at the scene were pretty certain that Dennis fell and didn't jump." She didn't bother to tell him that John had never believed that. In John's mind and heart, he knew that Dennis Gant had killed himself.

"A few of them got more elaborate. They described it more as if a person had pushed Dennis Gant off the platform."

Kerry looked up sharply at that and noticed that Clark was eyeing her intently.

"That sounds like a strange way to describe someone falling," she noted.

"Yes, it does. Usually, people say that the person lost their balance or tripped. I've never read an account where a witness, where more than one witness, said it looked as if someone had been pushed."

"Is there a point to all this, Clark?"

"I'm thinking that maybe Dennis Gant didn't die accidentally."

"Which means he committed suicide."

"No. It could mean he was murdered."

"Clark, I think you probably dream about murder conspiracies." Kerry shook her head. "Next thing I know, you'll be trying to tell me that John is somehow involved in Gant's death."

Clark raised his eyebrows, "He wasn't on the platform that morning. He was at work. Just like he was at work when Joe Thielen died from a gunshot wound inflicted by someone using Dennis Gant's shotgun."

"Is there a point to all this?"

He shrugged. "I dunno, Kerry. I'm not so straight laced that I haven't given some thought to the idea that John isn't imagining that his uncle is haunting him."

"Do tell."

"I also am not so besotted with you that I don't realize you are John Carter's only alibi for the time of day when Joe Thielen was shot. You've already told me that you care about him, Kerry. It would be possible that you would lie for him, especially if you suspected or knew he had been abused as a child."

"I think you're really reaching now."

"Maybe. I'm just throwing ideas around, that's all. Someone killed Joe Thielen and I think that someone killed Dennis Gant as well. The only connection between the two men just happens to be John Carter. John Carter also happens to be the only person with opportunity to take Dennis Gant's shotgun from the box it had been packed into."

"And he's managed to keep it hidden all these years?" Kerry shook her head again. "You are definitely reaching erroneous conclusions, Clark."

"Maybe. Maybe not. Let's just say that John Carter has now made the list of suspects. Maybe he didn't shoot Thielen. Maybe he just gave the gun to someone who did."

"I think you should go now." Kerry stood up and started walking to the door. He had no choice but to follow her.

"I'll keep you updated." He paused at the door, looking hopeful. He knew that he shouldn't get involved with a person connected to a case, but he couldn't help himself. He liked Kerry Weaver and he had thought she liked him.

"Just be sure that you keep me updated on the facts and not any wild fantasies, Clark. Good night." She pushed him out the door, then closed it in his face. With a sigh, she went back to the basement to check on John.

Kerry stood by the side of his bed, watching him sleep. The sedative had really knocked him out. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard a man address her.

"He sure is cute when he's asleep."

She looked up to see a man leaning against John's dresser. She had seen his photo so she knew who he was.

"Joseph Thielen."

He nodded, a grin on his face. "In the ...well, I guess I'm sure not in the flesh anymore, huh?"

"So John hasn't been imagining things."

"As if you ever doubted him. I could tell that you believed him when he spilled his worthless guts."

"Why are you so insistent on tormenting him? Haven't you done enough to him?"

"Johnny and I are close. Very close. I knew I could count on him to find my killer. I want revenge, Kerry Weaver. I want to find the person who killed me and make him pay for what he did." He looked derisively at John. "He's useless to me now. I've told him who to talk with and what to do, but he doesn't want to help me. I even threatened you and that made him jump for a short while, but he still hasn't helped me."

"And why should he? You molested him and threatened those he cares about. I wouldn't help you either."

"Oh, really?" he asked, a decidedly evil smile playing around his lips. "I'm willing to bet that you will. I think that you can be of enormous help to me."

"And why would I help you? You're slime, Mister Thielen, nothing but pure slime."

"That may be your opinion, but it shouldn't prevent you from helping me. I don't think you'd want to see Johnny spending the rest of his days locked away in a psychiatric hospital. I can put him there, Kerry, and you know it."

Kerry shook her head, amazed at the persistence of the ghost. "I can't stand back and allow that to happen. And I won't help find your killer. I think the police can handle that just fine. As a matter of fact, wouldn't you be better off to just follow them around?"

"I can't do that. I can't be seen by those who don't believe in me."

"Clark Morgan believes in you. Go haunt him. I think he might like having you around."

"I'm not interested in his justice. I'm only concerned with my own."

"If you were concerned with justice, then you wouldn't be here right now."

Kerry swung around to see who was behind her. The boy looked familiar, but she couldn't place him. Just how did he get into her house, she wondered.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded to know.

"Helping Johnny," he replied.

The figure on the bed began to stir and he sat up, sleepily rubbing his eyes and looking past Kerry at the boy.

"Bobby? Is that really you?"

"It's really me, Johnny." Bobby Carter smiled at his "little" brother.

Kerry wearily sank down to the mattress. Now she had two ghosts to contend with. She could only hope that Bobby Carter was really there to help John, but she was concerned that in his present frame of mind, any unworldly help might just be too much for John to handle.

Joe snorted. "You can just leave here, Bobby. None of this concerns you."

"All of it concerns me, Uncle Joe. You hurt my little brother. You scared him into silence by making him think you had murdered me, when the truth was that I died from leukemia."

John looked over at his brother, a look of disbelief in his eyes. "Is that true? He didn't kill you?"

Bobby nodded. "He didn't kill me, Johnny. He threatened me, just like he threatened you. Johnny, the letter I wrote to Dad, well, it wasn't just about you. Uncle Joe had been after me, too. And using the same threats he used against you, telling me that if I did what he wanted, then he wouldn't hurt you or Chase. I believed him and I kept quiet. Then you broke down and told me what he had done to you and I knew I couldn't keep quiet anymore. I told him that I was going to tell Dad and Uncle Joe laughed at me. He threatened to hurt you unless I kept my mouth shut and then he left my room. I was so weak that day. I woke up feeling tired and just kept getting more and more tired as the day went on, and then I died. But, Johnny, Uncle Joe was not in my room when I died."

John looked over at Joe. "You lied to me. All of these years I've believed that I was responsible for Bobby's death and all because you lied to me. You didn't kill Bobby."

"No. He killed me." John and Kerry both jerked their heads around at hearing the voice of Dennis Gant.

"Dennis?" John weakly asked.

"Yeah, John. It's me. I didn't jump to my death and I sure as Hell didn't fall. This bastard pushed me off the platform. Bobby met me on the other side and told me who the man was, but I never knew why he pushed me that morning."

"And you took your own gun out of the packing box?" Kerry asked him.

Dennis nodded. "Bobby and I knew it would come in handy some day. John would have nightmares about what this bastard had done to him. I was too scared to ask him about the nightmares though. I just let it go and hoped he would find some peace on his own. I was wrong. As his friend, I should have confronted him about the reasons behind dreams so bad that they made him scream at night." Dennis looked at John, a sadness in his eyes. "I'm sorry I wasn't a better friend to you, John."

John shook his head. "No. I'm the one who was a lousy friend. I was so caught up in my relationship with Abby that I neglected you. I'm sorry."

"I know. I've heard the things you've said since I died, and Bobby explained to me how Benton discovered you and Abby. I realize that you were scared for her, afraid that Benton would ruin her career by telling Anspaugh about finding the two of you together. I understand that, John. I just wish you would have felt secure enough in our friendship to have confided in me about what was going on."

Kerry tried to keep her surprise hidden. John had been having a relationship with Abby Keaton? It had to be Abby Keaton that Dennis was talking about; she was the only Abby at the hospital that Dennis, John and Peter would have known at that time. There would be time to ask John about Abby later. And she also felt guilty about all the times she had heard his faint cries as he had nightmares. With her upstairs and him in the basement, she had not realized how bad they might have been. Like Dennis, she had found it easier to ignore John's dreams and just hope they would pass.

"I had to push you. You were standing on that platform muttering things about Johnny under your breath. I knew you were his roommate, and I thought it was a stroke of luck that placed us on that platform at the same time." Joe grinned.

"I remember that I was thinking about confronting John about his nightmares, making him tell me what was going on."

"Exactly. Only you weren't just thinking, you were talking out loud and I overheard you. I couldn't take the risk that Johnny would tell you the truth, so I decided to get rid of you. If I was lucky, you would die. If I wasn't lucky, then you would be injured,but at least you wouldn't be able to press Johnny for answers right then and I would buy myself some time to either remind him to be quiet or to find another way to silence you."

"You bastard," Kerry hissed. "How could you do such a thing?"

"It was easy," Joe grinned. "I just did this." He shoved his hand forward, illustrating how easy it had been to push Dennis Gant to his death.

"You killed Dennis," John muttered, drawing his knees up to his chest and hugging them tightly. His elation at finding out he had not been the cause of his brother's death was dashed over his discovery that he had, indeed, been the cause of Dennis' death.

Kerry shot a worried look in John's direction. This was not making things better for him. In her opinion, things were getting worse. Much worse. But, before she could say anything, Bobby spoke up.

"You've been haunting John in an effort to make him find your killer. Well, take a good look at me, Uncle Joe."

Before their eyes, Bobby began to grow and fill out until he had assumed the form of the man he would have been had he lived past the age of twelve. An older and even more handsome version of John, Kerry thought.

Joe looked aghast as he recognized him as a man. "You're the one who shot me!"

"That's right. Over the years, I've built up enough strength to be able to hold a gun and pull the trigger. Now you know who killed you, so you can leave him alone."

"And why should I? I happen to enjoy tormenting Johnny. It's fun."

"Fun time is over. There are some beings who would like a word or two with you about your actions here on earth," Dennis grinned at him.

"Dennis is right. You're coming with us."

Dennis and Bobby rushed Joe, slamming him into and through the wall. The pitiful ghost never had time to scream.

The basement was silent as both Kerry and John kept their eyes glued to the spot on the wall where the three ghosts had disappeared.

"Well, that's going to be a Hell of a thing to write in a report," Clark Morgan commented from the stairs.

Kerry slowly turned to look at him. "How did you get in here?"

"You didn't lock the door. I wanted to talk to you about something else, but when I knocked on the door, there wasn't an answer. I became concerned and tried to open the door. Since it was unlocked, I came on in. I figured you would be down here with John, so this is where I headed."

"Then you heard it all?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "I heard it all, saw it all, too. I don't think that Joseph Thielen is going to be haunting John any more though."

Hearing John's name reminded Kerry that her young boarder had not been looking too well a few minutes ago and she rushed to his side. Tears were falling down his cheeks and silently falling to his sheet covered knees.

"It's over, John." She reached out to put a comforting hand on his arm and he looked up at her, barely nodding.

"He killed Dennis," he softly said.

"But, he didn't kill Bobby, and in the end, Bobby and Dennis took care of him."

John looked away.

"I'll look after him."

Kerry looked up to see that Bobby, in his adult form, had come back. He sat down beside John and gathered his little brother into his arms.

"Can you let us have some time alone?" Bobby asked them.

"Of course. We'll be up in the kitchen."

Kerry and Clark headed up the steps, leaving them alone.

"Johnny, you can't let this eat away at you. You've spent years feeling guilty because you thought you caused my death. You didn't. And even if Uncle Joe had killed me, it wouldn't have been your fault. Each of us are responsible for our own actions. Uncle Joe chose to kill Dennis, you didn't tell him to do that and it isn't your fault that Dennis died that day."

"But, he killed him because he heard Dennis saying something about me."

"Joseph Thielen was a sick individual, Johnny. He would have latched on to any excuse he could find to justify his actions. You were not at fault. Dennis doesn't blame you, so why are you so intent on blaming yourself?"

"He doesn't blame me?"

"No, I don't blame you, John." Dennis sat down on the other side of the bed and he patted John's shoulder. "I have never blamed you. Once I got to this side, Bobby told me all about what that bastard had done to you all. He asked for my help to get revenge on Thielen and I readily agreed to do whatever it took to stop him. I'm only sorry that it took this long for the two of us to get strong enough to send him to his own death. A lot of kids have been hurt by that monster."

"I should have told Daddy about it a long time ago. He would have stopped him."

"Daddy would have killed him and then you'd be blaming yourself for him being in prison. Johnny, you have a bad habit of placing blame upon yourself, even when it isn't deserved. The world does not have to rest on your shoulders, little brother. Besides, he went after me before he ever touched you. I'm the one who should take the blame for all of this."

"And what if you weren't the first child he molested?" John asked.

"That's my point, Johnny. We don't know who his first victim was. All we know is that each of us suffered from his hands. I don't have to worry about the suffering any longer, but you do."

"He's right, John. You should give some serious thought to seeing Nina Pomerantz again. You were comfortable talking with her after I died."

"That was different. I can't tell her about this. She'll lock me away the minute I tell her that dead people were talking to me."

"Then I guess she'll lock up Kerry and that cop, too? They heard us and saw us. Kerry will affirm that this was not your imagination, Johnny. Promise me that you'll see this woman? Please? I can't go back to where I belong unless I know that you're going to be all right." Bobby pleaded with him.

John felt his strength and resolve dissolve away and he nodded. "I'll go to see her. I'll talk to her."

"And you'll try to keep from blaming yourself for things that you have no control over?" Dennis asked.

Again, John nodded. "I'll try."

"Good." Dennis smiled.

"We have to go now, Johnny. I want you to go upstairs and tell Kerry that you want to make an appointment for tomorrow with Doctor Pomerantz. Will you do that for me?"

"Yes. I'll do that for you, Bobby." John pushed himself away from his brother, even though he didn't want to break off the contact with Bobby. "I miss you."

"I miss you too, Johnny. But, before you know it, we'll be together again."

Dennis rolled his eyes. "There will be no peace in Heaven once that happens."

John actually smiled then and so did Bobby.

"That's what I like to see; a smile on your face. Keep smiling, Johnny. I love you."

"I love you. And you, too, Dennis. You were the only best friend I've ever had."

"I know. But, I won't be the last. You just have to be willing to keep your heart open enough to let another one inside. I'll be watching over you from time to time, John."

And then they were both gone. The only noise in the basement was the steady blowing of cold air through the air conditioning ducts. Then that became silent as well and from upstairs John could hear Kerry cursing as she realized that the air conditioning had quit on her once again.

He got out of bed and pulled on a pair of pants, then headed up the steps to see if she wanted him to get the fan back down from the attic and to tell her he would need time off to see Nina Pomerantz. He knew that hearing that would take her mind off of the fact that her air conditioning system had probably bitten the dust for good this time.

A week later, John returned home from his family counseling session with Nina to find that the house was blissfully cool. Kerry was curled up on the couch in Clark Morgan's arms and they both looked up and smiled at him.

"I see that the new system has been installed," he commented as he sat down in the chair across from them.

"Yes, and it feels so wonderful, doesn't it?"

"It sure does. Of course, there's a cold front headed this way, so you won't need it tomorrow." Clark said.

She playfully poked him in the chest, "Don't ruin my pleasure, Clark. I just might decide to keep the air on for the rest of the year."

"And freeze John out?" he asked with a laugh.

John laughed as well. "As cold as it gets in the basement in the winter, I doubt if I would notice. So, did you finally figure out a way to close the case?"

Clark nodded. "It took some doing, but I finally convinced my Captain that it was a suicide and that Thielen had been the one who stole the gun from Dennis Gant. So, the case is officially closed now. So, how did your session go?"

"Not too badly. I didn't realize just how much guilt Dad picked up in such a short time. I'm glad that he and Mom decided to go for counseling. Hell, the entire Carter family was there, including my grandfather. There was a lot of anger expressed, but not at Chase or me. It was mostly directed at Uncle Joe and themselves. Nina assured them that it was natural for them to feel that way. She's pretty good."

John had seen her every day that week and Kerry had noticed a big difference in him already. She and Mark had given him the entire week off, but he was due back at work in the morning. Mark still had a few reservations about his mental and emotional state, but Kerry had assured him that John was doing fine.

John cleared his throat as he got to his feet. "Well, I had better get changed and on my way. Randi called to invite me to join her and some of the others for a concert at the Pier. Chuni's friend from urology will be there, too. Chuni thinks I might be able to convince her to go out with me."

"Oh really? And just how much convincing is this going to take?" Kerry asked, grinning. "Chuni said that if I say, "Gina, would you like to go out to a movie?" then Gina will say yes."

"So much for you not dating nurses, hmm?" Kerry teased.

"Hell, dating doctors hasn't been lucky for me, so maybe dating nurses will be. Anyway, let me get downstairs so the two of you can get back to making out."

"We weren't making out," Kerry protested, a deep blush spreading over her face.

"Sure we were," Clark reminded her. "And if he gets downstairs fast, then I just might be able to remember where we left off when he came in the door."

"I'm out of here, already." John hurried downstairs, smiling. It was nice to see Kerry getting involved with someone. When he wasn't busy being a cop, Clark Morgan was a nice guy and John hoped that things went well for the two of them. As he changed clothes, he reflected that things were beginning to go well for everyone. He was glad that he had promised to see Nina. Being able to talk with her was making a big difference for him. And, she was even going over to the Kenner Institute to talk with Chase. Not that Chase could do much talking on his own behalf, but Nina had assured John that she felt she was reaching through to Chase. Just because he was brain damaged, it didn't mean he couldn't remember what had happened to him as a child. And his parents had vowed to attend counseling sessions for as long as Nina thought beneficial. There was a lot more to work through for them, but John felt pretty confident that the family would work through all of their problems. He nodded to his reflection, then glanced over at the photo of Bobby on the dresser.

"Thanks, bro."

Then he turned to leave, never seeing the figure that appeared beside the dresser. The twelve-year-old smiled and nodded, then faded away once more, secure in the knowledge that his little brother was going to be all right.

The end.