Joe was just coming out of the bathroom when Frank came into the room. He could immediately see what his father was talking about, as his brother was limping, he had a few painful-looking scratches on his face, and a nasty-looking bruise on his right shoulder.  

“What happened to you?” He decided to tackle this head-on, especially since the evidence that something had happened was staring him right in the face.  

Joe blanched, obviously not expecting Frank to bust him so soon. And then he shrugged, and said casually as he reached for a clean sweater to put on, “My walk home was a little less lonely than I like.”  

Seeing the confusion on his brother’s face, Joe came clean. He and Frank had an understanding – they never kept anything from each other any more.  “Three words – Bristol , Russell, Theirry.”  

Frank scowled – he knew the three bullies very well.  “Oh no, Joe. You didn’t have a run-in with them, did you?”  

Touching his cheek gingerly, Joe couldn’t help but grin.  “Nope, not me. However, rolling down a hill…well, that’s another story!”  

When Frank raised his eyebrow, imploring a less cryptic answer, Joe gave him a brief version of what happened; leaving out the remarks Peter had made. It hurt too much for him to even repeat them.  

By the end, Frank’s scowl was replaced with something more akin to anger, as he seethed at the older guys for picking on Joe. Not that he should have been too surprised, as it was all too reminiscent of his own run-in with them two years ago – too eerily similar, actually.  

The major difference was that Frank had not been alone at the time – William had been with him. And in the end, Joe and Biff Hooper had shown up as the cavalry.  

“Jerks,” Frank hissed, already making a mental note that he needed to have a chat with those guys. No one tried to jump his brother and got away with it.  

But Joe, as if reading his brother’s mind, said, “Leave it alone, Frank.  Anything you’d do would just make it worse.”  

“Joe, you hit Peter,” Frank reminded him, making the younger boy cringe – he should have withheld that detail as well.  “You know he’s going to want some sort of retribution!”  

Now it was the younger boy’s turn to scowl, and then he brushed it off.  “Well, I’ll just have to make sure I don’t have to be walking home from school again too soon, now don’t I?”  

Frank was not impressed with the levity with which Joe was considering this situation. Bristol had pulled a knife on Frank the last time they tangled….  

“Joe—” he started, but his brother cut him off.  

“I’ll be careful, Frank.  Besides, with you and Biff around, what can possibly happen to me?”  

Frank still wasn’t convinced. Sure, both he and Joe’s best friend – who had taken Will’s actions very personally, especially after he had almost succeeded in killing Joe while Biff was in the bathroom, oblivious to what was happening only a few feet away – would do whatever it took to keep the younger boy safe, but they weren’t always around.  

And that is when people like Bristol and his boys struck….Like true bullies, they waited and made their move on single targets. Frank knew they would never consider going after Joe if he or Biff was around.  

Especially Biff, who had put on a huge mass of muscle in the past two years, as he continued weight training and body building under the watchful eye of Angelo Prito, the older brother of another close friend – Tony.  

“Just be careful, okay?” Frank pleaded, as Joe finished getting dressed and then shot him a smile.   

“Aren’t I always?”  The younger boy was out the door and down the stairs before Frank even had a chance to reply!

* * *

Laura Hardy’s smile faltered a bit when she saw her younger son’s face. Fenton was right – it was apparent he’d had a tangle with something.  

Her heart was heavy as she forced a brightness that she didn’t feel onto her face, and hoped her son wouldn’t notice. Whenever she looked at Joe, he reminded her of what a fool she had been.  

She had fallen for William, hook, line and sinker.  

What kind of mother am I? She asked herself every day, that I didn’t notice what was going on? I sat on the edge of Frank’s bed, saw my son was hurting but put it off….I should have marched him right to Dr. Bates then and there.  And then maybe things would have been different.  

Maybe he wouldn’t limp on days when his knee acted up….Maybe he wouldn’t come awake screaming from nightmares that still dogged his sleep from time to time….Maybe I wouldn’t feel like such a failure when I look into his face and see the shadow of William….  

Maybe…maybe…maybe….  

There were too many maybes and not one of them changed a damn thing.  

And so, as she picked up Joe’s plate and put some mashed potatoes and meatloaf on it, she just hoped that he didn’t see how she felt.  

“Mom, are you okay?”  

Damn – he had seen. Sometimes Joe was too perceptive for his own good….  

Sitting in a chair across from him, Laura sighed and then said, “I’m just worried about you, that’s all.”  

Fenton watched them from his spot at the head of the table as Frank came into the kitchen and sat down next to his brother.  

“Well you don’t need to worry about me,” Joe said, his vibrant blue eyes looking into his mother’s pale ones.  “I’m fine.” And then, when he saw that she didn’t look so sure, he added, “Honestly.”  

“What happened on the way home, son?” Fenton asked, feeling he had given Joe ample time to recover.  

Joe sighed and pushed his plate away. He didn’t want to lie to his father, but at the same time he didn’t want them to worry, either. And he knew that they would worry if they found out the truth, so he opted for a variable version.  “Dad. It’s okay. Some guy just thought that a kid with a gimp knee would be an easy mark – I hid in the brush until he left, and then came back on the road.”  

Frank glanced at his brother, but didn’t say anything. That was what had essentially happened, although definitely glossed over a bit.  

“Did you recognize the guy?” Fenton pressed, wondering if this was a random attack, as Joe was trying to make it seem.  

Joe was saved from his father’s interrogation when the phone rang, and a moment later, Fenton was excusing himself so he could take the call in his office.  

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Laura pressed her son, concerned that he was more injured than he was letting on. If they had learned one thing from the past, it was that Joe was very good at hiding his injuries from them.  

The youth nodded his head and then reached up to touch his cheek.  “Yeah. You’re looking at the worst of it. The bushes were a bit pricklier than I’d been expecting.”  

“I’d bet,” she said gently, and then the three of them continued the rest of the meal in silence – each lost in thought. 

* * *

Fenton hung up the phone and then sat back heavily in his chair.  Running a hand over his weary face, his gaze came to rest on the family photo that sat on the corner of his desk.  

Reaching over, he picked it up and stared at the smiling faces for a long time.  

It had been Sam on the phone – Fenton had been surprised to hear from him so soon. And what the other investigator had told him left the sleuth with a very bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.  

A senior officer had died after being struck by a vehicle while pursuing William….Both detectives were pretty sure what that was going to mean.  

William would need to get out of town. And in all likelihood, he was on his way back to Bayport.  

How in the world could Fenton tell his family that?  

And how could he protect them from someone who wore the perfect disguise? Joe. 

Sighing, he put the picture down and leaned back across the desk to pick up the phone. He needed to call Chief Collig and give him a heads-up, if he didn’t already know.  

Maybe between them, they could figure out the best way to deal with this threat. Hopefully, then he would have a solution when he sat his family down and told them what had happened.  

Hopefully….