FBI Agent Sally Roux was feeling perplexed. She had come to the conclusion that Christopher McDaniels was an enigma.

"Where the hell are you?" she wondered aloud while staring at a photograph of him. He had been a handsome teenager. She couldn't really call him a man since he supposedly died before reaching his twenties.

She was sitting in her parked car, outside the home of Mathew Hannigon, a former police detective. She pulled out her notes to verify the address. It was correct.

"This house looks like crap," she muttered, taking in the overgrown grass, broken front steps, and general unkemptness of the property. She opened the door and stepped outside, letting the heat envelop her. She adjusted her sunglasses and walked to the front door, her dress boots crunching against the gravel driveway. She caught a quick glimpse of several beer cans in an old station wagon parked in front of the house. Sally wondered if people still drove station wagons as she knocked on the door.

"Who is it?" she heard someone yelling form inside as well as the excited barking of a large dog.

"Great," Sally muttered. She hated going to houses with dogs. She raised her voice and answered, "Mathew Hannigon? This is Special Agent Sally Roux with the FBI. I'm here to ask you some questions."

She heard some glass breaking and a thud. "Mr. Hannigon are you alright in there?"

"Fine! I'm fine. I just fell over. I'm coming!" Sally could hear him yelling at his dog, "Quiet Rosco. Shhh be quiet!"

Sally waited for him to open the door and was surprised by what she saw.

"Mr. Hannigon?"

"That's me. How can I help you?" Mathew Hannigon was a former police detective. Sally couldn't imagine him being an officer of the law. He looked more like a drunk hippie. He was wearing boxers and a white tank. His gray hair was tied back in a loose ponytail and Sally could see the remnants of food crumbs stuck in his beard. Most importantly, he was wearing sunglasses. He didn't look directly at her but above her.

He's blind.

"Mr. Hannigon I wanted to ask you a few questions about an old case you worked on years ago."

"An old police case, huh? Well that's different. Usually the only people that come see me are salesmen or bill collectors."

Sally cleared her throat, "May I come in Mr. Hannigon?"

"Sure. My dog Rosco don't bite. He just barks to let me know when someone's here."

"Is he a seeing eye-dog?" Sally asked as she stepped into the home, looking around for Rosco.

"No. He's not. I can't afford to keep a fancy seeing eye-dog."

"Oh?" Sally took in her surroundings. The home was small, cluttered, and cramped. Newspapers lined a corner of the room and made Sally wonder why he had them if he couldn't see. "I was going through your personnel file. It didn't mention that you were blind."

He chuckled. "It happened a few years ago. I left the force before that."

"May I ask why you left the force?"

"You can ask but it doesn't mean I'll answer."

Asshole. Sally never liked witnesses who tried to be smartasses. It just wasted time. "Fine. Let's cut the chit chat and you can tell me what happened the night Christopher McDaniels died in a fire."

"Who?"

"Don't play dumb Mr. Hannigon. The last case you worked as a detective was the fire involving the death of Christopher McDaniels. No officer forgets their last case."

"Says who?"

Sally smirked, "Mr. Hannigon, I didn't drive out here to play games with you. I just need you to answer me honestly. What happened with that report?"

"What do you mean? I turned it in."

"Right but there's missing information. Why was the death certificate not signed?"

"I'm wasn't the coroner. It wasn't my job to sign the death certificate. How would I know?"

Sally sighed, "You may not have been the coroner, but you were the lead detective on the case. It's standard practice to verify the death certificate before closing a case as an accidental death."

"I'm not sure how things work in the FBI but things were pretty busy back then."

"Really? How about you tell me about it?"

Mathew Hannigon looked flustered behind his sunglasses, "Well...we had a lot of burglaries happening back then. It was hectic."

Sally mouth curled up, "Is that so?"

"Yes, that's so. Listen if you're here to ask me about ancient cases, I don't think I can help you. I was in a car accident and it messed up my memory. It's also why I'm blind today so if you don't mind, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"It's interesting Mr. Hannigon. For someone that has memory problems, you sure were quick to remember that there were burglaries going on around the same time. Besides that, you were a detective that dealt mainly with homicides. I looked at your case records. You never handled any burglaries so why would that have anything to do with the fact that you didn't verify Christopher McDaniel's death with the coroner before ruling it an accidental death?"

It was a mouthful and he was confused. "I...I had drinking problems back then."

It seemed too forced to be true, "I believe that you have drinking problems now. But back then? I don't buy it. I'll let you think about what lie you'll tell me next." Sally began walking out the door when he stopped her.

"You should be careful miss."

"Miss? I'm an agent. Unlike some, I uphold the law. I'm not sure what happened that night, but I think you're hiding something Mr. Hannigon. And if you think being blind is going to make me go easy on you...think again."

Mathew laughed, "I bet you're a beautiful woman. I always did love a strong woman." Sally shook her head in disgust but he continued, "If you want to know what really happened, I'd talk to Roger Fleming."

Sally didn't bother to thank him for the tip. He followed her outside and yelled, "Be careful! Being an FBI agent doesn't make you invincible and that family...they're pure evil. All of 'em."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Mathew Hannigon heard her car turn on and drive off. He slowly went back inside his house and took off his sunglasses. "Rosco," he called out.

A large golden retriever came forward, wagging his tail. Mathew smiled, "She was pretty wasn't she? It's a shame that they'll probably kill her. She had some beautiful eyes, didn't she?"

An Hour Later

Roger Fleming was currently residing in a new residential treatment center called Morning Glory. It was two towns away from Ludwig but Sally was determined to get some answers.

As she approached the front desk, she thought about what questions she was going to ask.

"Hello, may I help you?" a petite blonde woman asked.

Wasting no time, Sally flashed her badge, "I'm here to see Roger Fleming."

The blonde looked flustered but looked up his information on the computer. "He's in the rec room playing BINGO right now."

"BINGO?"

"Yes, we have many different extracurricular activities for our residents. Today they play Mexican Bingo. The residents love it," she assured Sally.

"That's great but can you tell me where the rec room is?" Sally said in a no-nonsense voice.

"I'm sorry of course I can. Let me take you there."

Sally followed the blonde to a large room. There were several tables set out with people playing Mexican Bingo.

"El Sol!" a man in a white nurse's uniform shouted.

"BINGO!" A young woman with bandages around her wrists shouted. "I can't believe I won!"

"See?" the blonde smiled, "They love it."

Sally ignored her comment and asked, "Where's Mr. Fleming?"

"He's the older gentleman sitting in the corner by himself."

Sally saw him and smiled, "Thank you." She left the blonde behind and walked over to Roger Fleming.

"Mr. Fleming?"

"Oh you're so sweet to talk to me," Roger whispered.

Sally sighed because he wasn't addressing her but the pinto beans he was using to mark his BINGO card. "Roger?" she tried again. This time he looked up and smiled, showing a missing tooth.

"Hi Roger. My name is Sally. I work with the FBI. I came here today to talk to you about your nephew."

"Sally?" Roger asked in a childlike tone, making Sally wonder what had happened to him. She didn't remember reading anything about him having any sort of mental health issues.

"That's right. I'm sally. Is it okay if we talk today?"

Roger smiled and slid his BINGO card to her, "Wanna play with me?"

Sally slid it back to him, "No. I want to talk to you."

"Friend?" Roger asked.

"Yes. We can be friends."

He clapped his hands together and shouted, "Friends!"

Sally continued, "Do you remember your nephew Christopher?"

"Christopher?"

"He died in a fire. Do you remember?"

"Fire?"

"Yes, a fire."

"No! No fire!" he raised his voice, getting the attention of some of the other residents and staff.

"Shhh...Roger we have to be quiet and keep our voices soft. Can you do that for me?" Sally was trying to keep her voice even and friendly.

"Christopher mean," Roger said, covering his face with his hands. "He hits me."

Sally thought that perhaps he was remembering incorrectly since Roger was accused of abusing Christopher as a child.

"When did he hit you? A long time ago?"

"No. He hits me now." Roger was shaking his head.

"This is getting me nowhere," Sally muttered.

"He visits me. Him and his friend. They're mean."

"His friend? Who is his friend? Is it Vincent?" Sally asked.

"No. Vincent is nice. Christopher is mean. Christopher's friend is mean. They hit me! Hit me! Hit me!" Roger began slapping his head with both hands and two orderlies ran forward to grab his hands. Sally stood up and asked, "What's wrong with him?"

A third orderly came forward and gave him a shot to calm him down. He looked at Sally and frowned, "You shouldn't have agitated him. He's been very easy to upset since his break."

"Break?" Sally showed her badge to the orderly and asked, "What do you mean break?"

"A few weeks ago Mr. Fleming attempted to commit suicide."

"How so?"

"He tried slitting his writs and took some pills. Another orderly found him and he survived but since then he's been different. Almost childlike. The psychiatrist said he had a mental breakdown."

"Does he ever get any visitors?"

The orderly shrugged, "You'll have to check with the front but I think so. Every once in a while his family comes to see him."

Sally nodded, "Thanks for the info. I'll be sure to check with the front desk."

As she was leaving she heard Roger shout, "Christopher is alive!"

She turned around to stare at him but he was looking down and talking to his pinto beans again. She met the blonde woman again and asked, "Am I able to see his visitor list?"

"I'm sorry but that's impossible. I'm not allowed to share that."

"I'm with the FBI."

"Right, so you should know you need a warrant. HIPPA laws and all that," the blonde said.

Sally chuckled, "Got it. Thanks." She did know better but she was hoping the blonde didn't.

If Christopher was still alive, then someone must've helped him survive that fire. Was it Vincent?

Roger mentioned a friend hurting him along with Christopher. Who was the friend? She wondered how she was to track down the friend of someone that was supposed to be dead.

As she was walking to her car, her phone rang. It was Eva.

"Hey Lewis, what's up?"

"I have big news," Eva Lewis said on the other line.

"Yeah what is it? Because somehow I can't imagine it's bigger than mine."

"How much you want to bet?"

Sally laughed, "My news involves someone coming back from the dead."

"You know?"

"Know what? That Christopher McDaniels is probably still alive?"

"What? No...Christopher is still alive? What the hell is going on?" Eva asked, her voice filled with fear.

"You didn't think I was referring to Christopher?" Sally asked, confused.

"No."

"Then who did you think I was talking about?"

"David. I saw him today Sally. He's still alive."

Meanwhile in Ludwig: Motel 6

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Wanda asked.

"I'm positive. You wanted to get revenge on Vincent, didn't you?"

Wanda nodded, "I did...I mean I do. He deserves every bad thing that could happen to him."

"We agree on that," the man sitting across from her said.

Wanda wasn't so sure she made a wise decision to get involved with the man in front of her. He was handsome but so was her brother. Handsome men could sometimes be the scariest.

She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She looked so different.

So young.

It was amazing how plastic surgery could make a difference.

"You like what you see?" the man chuckled.

Wanda gave a self-conscious shrug, "It's been a long time since I've looked so young. I didn't expect it to come out so well."

"We almost didn't pull it off. It's still not perfect but he won't be seeing you up close," the man said, checking his text messages.

"When will I see him?"

"Soon. Very soon. If Vincent McDaniels thinks he can make money off the death of his children. He can think again."

"Why are you doing this?" Wanda asked.

The man laughed, "Well...let's just say he's done a few things to me so I'm just paying him back."

Wanda shuddered at his laughter. The man was diabolical and evil.

"Now do you remember the plan?"

"Yes sir," Wanda nodded.

"I told you not to call me sir."

"Sorry. What did you want me to call you?" Wanda asked.

The man gave a gentle smile, "I told you already. Call me David. David Wilson."