"Jack, you've gotta get up." Davey walked into the house without so much as a greeting. grasping at Jacks sleeves he attempted to pull Jack up. "We have to get to the diner."

Jack looked out, a bottle of whiskey keeping him company, he sloshed it absentmindedly admiring its crystal brown liquid. A dream liquid he amused himself with, the calming juice.

Davey gave the bottle a distasteful glance, "you can't be serious Jack, are you drunk? It's 7 in the morning."

"It's five o'clock somewhere Davey cakes." He held his bottle high swishing it around proudly, "'sides I ain't drunk, I'm tipsy."

Davey snatched the bottle out of his hands, "this ain't funny Jack, I know you're struggling on account of Race."

Jack winced at the name and rolled over. Leaning his head into the soft pillow. Smells like Race, he thought and rolled over again to get away from it. His stomach felt like a raid for knives and he just needed to shut it down.

"I need you to be strong Jack, we can't do this alone. Be strong for Race, he needs you right now," Davey continued. "Sober up, we're searching that diner today."

Jack propped himself up, "security cams?"

Davey nodded, "and if you want to see them then you better be ready to sing that alphabet front and back."

Jack pulled himself off the couch, pouring himself a glass of ice cold water. Sober up easier said than done. Though Jack shouldn't have been drunk in the first place, it was foolish. Youse being selfish Jack. And he knew it, selfish when you couldn't be selfish, selfish when Race was on the line. The worst kinda selfish. The selfish that got people killed.

Those thoughts themselves were sobering and Jack was starting to feel better 30 minutes later, less drunk but the desire to pee was already pooling around his bladder.

"How long 'till we're at the diner Davey?" Jack asked, sitting in the car with his knees pushed together like when he was a little one. He has a distinct memory of Race holding his crotch doing a little jack and forth Irish jig tryna hold in his pee. He remembers the absolute panic they felt trying to get Race, barely potty trained, to a bathroom in time. He remembers at the end, Race walking out with a raise in his chin and a puff In his chest that left Jack laughing for weeks.

"Unbelievable. Did you not pee before we left?" Davey gave him a disapproving look, which left Jack absolutely flabbergasted.

"What're you my ma?" Jack scoffed, "I didn't have to pee then."

"You always do a safety pee, Jack." Davey shook his head softly turning right.

Safety pee? "The hell is a safety pee."

"You know what a safety pee is."

"Nobody in their right minds has ever said that, that's absolute insanity right there. You cannot be serious." Jack shook his head, "don't ever say that crap to me again."

Davey parked the car and placed his hands up, "I'm just saying Jack, if you took a safety pee, we wouldn't be in this situation."

"Stop talking to me," Jack got out of the car, "lunatic behavior."

After doing his business, he rounded back to Davey who was pulling up to the security cams, a younger cop already going through them.

"See anything yet?" Jack asked, coming up behind Davey.

"Just normal stuff." Davey pointed to the screen, "expect here your fly is down."

Jack gasped, "it is not!"

Davey looked back at Jack, "it's down now too."

Jack looked down, indeed seeing his zipper far too low. He zipped up his fly, "I don't need your negativity."

Davey raised an eyebrow, looking back over to watch the screen. His eyes scanning the people, until he caught one tilting his head to look at Race. An older man, who had very little to eat at his table.

Davey frowned, how had he not caught this man's wandering eye before. He watched the man completely follow Race all over the restaurant. Subtly, yet fixated to a creepy degree.

"You see that?" Davey asks Jack, "that man-"

"Yeah I see him." Jack frowned, his brow furrowing in concentration. "Put on a tape for a few days back."

They placed it in the slot, going through all the footage when Davey points to the screen, and there is the man again. Watching Race walk up and down the isles, following him with his eyes. They pulled another tape, he was outside watching in, another tape, in his car taking photos. Back and forth over and over again the same man popping up, focusing on one thing.

Jacks voice got caught in his throat, chills going down his spine. His idiot little brother was too dense to pay attention to how absurdly creepy that was. Completely oblivious to being stalked for days, Race in every video goes about his normal life. He cleared his throat gently, speaking up, "pull up an identification to that man."

"Already up, here," the young cop pointed, "Winn Stellar, 54, federal offense for poaching critically endangered species, but the charges were dropped. Says here he was a main suspect in a murder trial but had a solid alibi."

"Think this is our guy?" Davey asked, pulling it closer to his face.

Jack nodded slowly, "if it ain't our guy, than I don't know who is."

Davey nodded, taking command, "I want all officers out looking for this man, monitor any transactions, footage, witnesses going through, get your brothers and sisters on the case."

The young cop nodded, immediately going over to the radio. Davey smiled satisfactory, and walked over to Jack who was running to his car.

"Where ya going?" Davey asked, rushing after him.

"Finding Race," Jack smiled jiggling the keys, "get in."

For the first time they had hope, a lead. Most importantly, a chance to save Race, a chance to save him, if he was still around.

Don't matter, Jack turned the car on, I'll never stop looking.