Laura Hardy smiled as she saw the familiar face of her husband waiting for her as she got off the plane.  But her smile quickly faded, for she could tell just by the look on his face that something was wrong.  Fenton could never keep anything from her. She knew him and read him too well.

Comes with the territory of being married to the man for twenty years, she mused as she threw her arms around him and gave him a big hug, sucking in the musky scent that was him.  Whatever he was going to tell her could wait until she’d had a chance to greet him.

God, she had missed him.

Laura never asked anything as they got the luggage, put it in the trunk of the car and pulled away from the airport.  Georgia Hooper had opted to stay in Arizona for another week to visit her sister, so Laura had flown back alone.

She was refreshed, de-stressed and thought she was ready for anything her husband was going to tell her.

But as his silence continued, her unease grew – what wasn’t he telling her?

Finally she just asked, “Okay Fenton, what’s wrong?”

And then he said three words and she knew she wasn’t prepared.

“Joe’s missing…again.”

* * *

While other kids were preparing for their first day of school, her five-year-old son was recuperating after being rescued from an abusive couple who had kidnapped Joe while he and Frank played in a carnival Fun House….

And as Laura heard those three words, it brought back all the feelings and fears that had threatened to destroy her that weekend so many years ago.

“Daddy!  I can’t find Joey!”… Laura sucked in a breath as she could hear her six-year-old’s voice so plainly, even now.

White-faced she shook her head and whispered, “Oh dear God, no…not again.”

Every time something happened to either of her sons, this one day would come back and pounce on her, forever mocking her ability to keep her children safe….

Turning to her husband, she begged for details.

Fenton gave what little he knew, and felt more and more a failure with every word.  There was nothing to go on.

They rode the rest of the way in silence.

Fenton had barely parked the car in the driveway before Laura was out of it, in the house, up the stairs and into their room.

When she got there, she grabbed one of the pillows from the bed, buried her face into it, and screamed.

Someone had taken her baby….

Fenton heard the anguish and put his hand on the doorknob to go in. But then he stopped.

She needs this time, he rationalized and turned to walk away.  Then he stopped again.  But I need her…and opening the door, he went into the room, wrapped his arms around his wife and held her.  It brought him great comfort – this was something he could do….

* * *

When Laura was cried out, she pressed her face into her husband’s chest and just listened to the sound of his heart beating; so many emotions ran through her own, each one vying for its place.

Finally she sighed, looked up at her husband and spoke softly, her throat hoarse from tears.  “This never gets any easier.”

Fenton’s chest hitched at the anguish he heard in her voice, and he stroked her silky blond hair – so much like Joe’s - but so different.  “Oh honey…it’s not supposed to.”

“Will we find him this time?” she asked, her pale blue eyes searching his dark ones, forcing the truth even if he sought otherwise to protect her.

And the truth surprised him.

“Yes.”

* * *

Chet Morton sighed as he climbed up the stairs to the veranda on his parents’ old farm house.  It was getting late, and he wondered how Frank and Biff made out with Liam’s friends.

He certainly hoped they got something they could use, finally.

It was only Sunday night but if felt like a million years ago since he saw the tail end of his friend’s van sticking out of Arbutus Lake.   Shaking his head, he stopped on the veranda and looked back out into the night.

The air was crisp with just that right amount of chilliness to scream ‘autumn.’  There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, so a zillion twinkling little lights looked down on him.

And he wondered where Joe was.

Chet had known Joe almost as long as he had known Frank, and at first he thought it was a nuisance having the younger boy trail around after them wherever they went (almost as much of a pain as a younger sister…almost), but Frank doted on his little brother.  And within a very short time, Chet had come to see what a good kid Joe was and he’d become quite fond of him.

And that hadn’t changed.

Sure, things had gotten awkward after Iola died, but in the end it served to bring him even closer to the younger boy…it was if he’d lost a sister but got a Joe.

Glancing up at the stars he whispered, “Hey little sis.  Wherever you are, I hope you’re keeping an eye on your Joey tonight….I just have a feeling he’s going to need it.”

He paused and brushed away the tear that seemed to always come with a thought of his sister.  “And if you don’t mind….It’d be kinda nice if we could get him back again…real soon.”  His voice trailed off, “We can’t lose him too…” and turning away, he hurried into the house, letting his black lab, Lucky, out as he did.

The dog did his business and then slowly came up onto the veranda before turning and staring off into the distance.  His ears pricked forward, and a low growl emanated from his chest – someone was out there.

* * *

Joe tripped, fell and then rolled for a few feet before coming to rest, face down in a pile of leaves at the base of a small tree.

Groaning, he pushed himself up before sagging back down to the ground, the effort seeming too much.

“Gotta…farm…” he managed hoarsely, his mind seeing nothing else except that his body was exhausted and hurting.

Slowly, and with great effort, he managed to pull himself to his knees and then waited for his vision to clear.  Everything seemed so dark now…and for a moment he wondered if he’d hit his head and gone blind.

But then his mind cleared enough for him to know it was just dark…and he was hungry.

Grasping the tree trunk, he forced himself back to his feet, a difficult task, as his ankle was refusing to bear much of his weight anymore.  But he couldn’t stop.  He had to get to the farm.

Starting off once again, he wondered if someone kept moving it, because he didn’t recall the farm being this far from Deathe House before…and he refused to believe he was lost.

That was not an option!

* * *

“DAD! MOM!”  Frank hollered as soon as he got in the front door.  He could already hear Biff’s car leaving the driveway as the muscular teen headed for home.  It was getting late.

Glancing down at his watch, Frank knew his parents should have been back from the airport a while now, and was rewarded a moment later when he heard the door upstairs open and then his father’s voice.

“Hold on Frank, we’ll be right down.”

When he finally did see his parents there was no doubt in his mind that his mother knew about Joe’s disappearance.  But to her credit, she still managed a smile and hugged her older son as soon as she saw him.

“I missed you something awful,” she whispered as she squeezed him tightly.  For a moment, he didn’t think she was going to let him go, but then she did.

“Me too,” he smiled down into her distressed blue eyes.  He added, “We’ll find him, Mom.”

Reaching up, Laura gently stroked Frank’s face, heartened to hear the resolve in his voice, and she smiled, a genuine one this time.  “I know you will, sweetie.  But thanks for saying it.”

Frank leaned down and gave her another quick hug before she excused herself to go to the kitchen and make some tea.  She really needed something right now, and the chamomile was calling to her.

As soon as his mother was gone, Frank turned to his father.  “Can we talk in your office?”

Nodding, Fenton led the way, his curiosity piqued, and he allowed himself a small hope that his older son had found out something in the last couple of hours, since they had last spoken.

Closing the door behind him, Frank turned around, faced his father and asked the question that had been on his mind since Liam’s friend told him about the other vehicle.

“Dad, when Mr. Rosado was here on Saturday, what was he driving?”

Without batting an eyelash, Fenton answered simply, “An older style black limo.”