Revenge on the Reagans

Chapter 9

At Frank's home, Henry sat at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee in hand. He sat silently twiddling his thumbs waiting for his son and grandchildren to come home. Just then he heard the front door open and shut, and in walked Frank and Erin, but no Jaime. They hadn't heard from him in a while, and when he last asked about Jaime, Frank wouldn't go into detail. All that was said was, "He's fine." Obviously, if he was not with them, he wasn't fine.

"Where's Jaime?" Henry asked.

"Back at the hospital," Frank stated walking right passed the table and over to the coffee machine, not making any eye contact with his father.

"Don't tell me this guy struck again," Henry said, sounding agitated. Being a man who knew what it was like to walk the beat, there was nothing he hated more than seeing bad guys getting  away with doing bad things to good people.

"A man attacked Jaime in the cafeteria," Erin explained with a heavy heart, "he drugged him then posed him like this." She pulled out her phone and showed her grandfather the picture they had taken of Jaime like that for evidence. Henry slipped on his reading glasses and watched the picture in horror. There was this uneasy feeling that lingered in the air. The feeling that if this guy wanted to, he could have really killed Jaime before he placed him like that. He had the power to. Right now, this monster had two Reagans in the hospital and the rest on lock down in that house. Right now, this person had power over this family. Whoever this person was, he was winning.

"Good Lord," Henry said looking away in disgust, "when are they releasing him?"

"Tomorrow," Erin explained, "when we left he was getting some rest. I'm gonna try to do the same. See you in the morning." She grabbed her briefcase and headed upstairs leaving the room in silence. Henry turned to look at his son, standing next to the kitchen island, his cup of coffee sitting in front of him untouched. Frank was staring into space, but Henry knew that there was a whole lot on his mind.

"Penny for you thoughts Francis," he said.

"I got two sons in the hospital and a madmen out there on the streets trying to hurt this family," he started, "and I don't know who and where he is.........I worry about all of them. All the time. Especially after Joe. After something like that, you know that there is a possibility it can happen again. But there's still a piece of you that's hoping that it won't. When I heard about the bomb, and I saw Danny on that stretcher, all hope was gone. The only thing left, was blame and guilt."

"This wasn't your fault Francis," Henry said trying to reason with him, "you couldn't have known. There was nothing you could've done."

"My officers got hurt on my watch," Frank argued, "my son got hurt on my watch. I know how little control I had over the situation, but that doesn't help me sleep at night."

"If there's anyone to blame for this, it's the man who set the bombs off and drugged Jaime in that hospital," his father told him.

"Only I don't know who this guy is," Frank said angrily, yet still managing to keep his voice down. Just then his cell phone began ringing in his pocket, and he was the slightest bit hopeful when he saw it was Baker.