…LARRY…

Paul’s voice screamed at her and she winced from the intensity….

Stopping dead in her tracks, Laura whirled around and saw her attacker had her son pinned against the kitchen wall. Joe still had his hands on the gun, trying to keep it pointed away from himself – but it was evident that it was a losing battle….

Joe was strong but this guy was stronger.

...LARRY…

Laura couldn’t run. She couldn’t lose Joe, too.

* * *

Fenton Hardy was quiet on the drive back. His mind had been preoccupied, and as they hit the outskirts of Bayport, his older son asked, “Dad, are you okay?”

“Sure,” the older man said absently.  And then forcing himself to focus on his son he added, “Why’d you ask?”

“Well, you’re awfully quiet,” Frank said, watching his father carefully.

“Oh,” Fenton said, “Sorry. I was just thinking about your Mom.”

“Is something wrong with Mom?” Frank demanded, his concern rising, and Fenton rushed to reassure him.

“No. No. I was actually thinking more about the consequences of things, and how they sometimes reach further than anyone could have anticipated by their single action.”

Frank narrowed his eyes at his father, wondering what had driven such a sage comment.  Fenton gave him a sad smile, “I was thinking of your Mom’s brother.”

“Uncle Paul?” Frank asked. Although he and Joe knew about their uncle, there was a lot they didn’t know, as their mother still found it hard to talk about him; even now, twenty years later.

“Yeah, your Uncle Paul,” Fenton admitted, and then didn’t say anything for a few more moments, as he wondered what might have happened had Paul lived.

Would he and Laura be married?  His mind lingered briefly on the graveside marriage proposal….

Fenton honestly didn’t know, but he didn’t have any doubt that Paul was the catalyst for their being together – both in the beginning and then in the end.

He had no idea if he and Laura, though deeply in love, could have crossed the chasm that her fear and his doubt had created.  In the end, Paul’s death had been the bridge.

The detective’s musings were cut short as Frank asked, “What was he like?”

Fenton thought about that. Although he didn’t know Paul very long, he felt like he could give a decent answer.  “If you want to see him, take a good look at your brother. If you want to know him, take your common sense, loyalty and patience, and add it to your brother’s exuberance, tenacity and spirit – and you have your Uncle Paul.”

“Wow, what a package,” Frank commented and Fenton actually laughed as he thought about a tow-headed head sticking out of the hospital window, chiding a tongue-tied him and an indignant Laura. “Yeah, he was.”

Whatever he was going to say next was lost when Fenton’s cell phone rang, and using his earpiece, the detective answered the call.

Two minutes later, with emergency lights flashing, Fenton pushed the car to its limits as he raced home.

A felon with a grudge against the sleuth had escaped, and neither the detective nor the Chief of Police, who had just called him, had any doubts about where the dangerous con was headed – the Hardy house.

And Laura and Joe were home alone.

* * *

“MOM, GO!” Joe screamed again, desperate to get his mother away from her attacker. He had already realized one thing: he wasn’t going to be able to hold this guy for much longer….

And then with a mighty yank, the kidnapper pulled his gun free, raised it back and the last thing Joe thought before his world went black was…run Mom, run…

* * *

Laura was moving. She grabbed the frying pan from the sink and swung with all her strength even as she heard the sickening crack of the gun hitting her son, moments before her own makeshift weapon hit the back of the man’s head.

And both slumped down, limply, in one pile.

“JOE!” she screamed, even as she fought her own flashbacks of seeing Paul lying limp in Fenton’s arms….And she pulled her son free and cradled him gently in her lap.

The sound of screeching tires out front barely registered as she held her unconscious child and gently stroked his face.

* * *

Fenton barreled into the kitchen, with Frank and two police officers close behind. Collig had dispatched a unit, and they had arrived a hair’s breadth behind the Hardys.

For one brief moment Fenton thought he was too late, as he saw his wife sitting on the kitchen floor holding their younger son.

But then Laura looked up at him and she smiled, through her tears. “I saved him this time….I didn’t run….”

And Fenton crossed the distance between them, not concerned about the unconscious felon, as the police were already taking care of him. 

“Laura?” he whispered, dropping down beside them, as Frank reached out to check Joe’s pulse, breathing out a sigh of relief when he felt it – steady and strong.

“I couldn’t do it,” Laura said, her eyes bright as she gazed into the dark brown ones that she loved.  “He told me to leave…but I couldn’t do it this time. And then he stopped me….”

Fenton shook his head, not understanding, even as he carefully inspected the welt on his son’s forehead and heard the police calling for two ambulances.

“Paul,” Laura said, gazing down lovingly at her unconscious son.  “Joe told me to go, but then I heard Paul’s voice. It was like he shouted in my ear—”  She looked back up into her husband’s concerned eyes.  “Oh Fenton, I heard Paul…it was like he was here in this room with me…and I knew I couldn’t leave. If I did…” her voice broke off, and Fenton knew what she was thinking. And then she finished, “If I did, then I would lose Joe too….”

Fenton wrapped his arms around his wife’s shoulders as he kissed the top of her head.  “Laura Scott, I love you.”

As Frank took off his coat and draped it over his brother’s still form, he made a face as his mother responded, “Not nearly as much as I love you, Fenton Hardy.”

Laura raised her face up to her husband to give him a kiss, as a slight groan came from her lap, making them laugh with relief when they heard the weak voice, “Get…a room…”

“After you,” Fenton grinned, as they heard the sound of an ambulance, “And I think I hear the hotel shuttle service as we speak.”

“Don’t…need no…doctor,” Joe managed, as he opened his eyes and squinted up at his father.

“Save your breath,” Frank said from his side, “Or I’ll leave you to the mercy of Mom and Dad’s mushiness!”

“Oh…” Joe said closing his eyes again as the paramedics came into the kitchen and lowered the stretcher beside him, “and…I thought…you cared….”

“More than you’ll ever know, little brother,” Frank said under his breath, as he rose to stand beside his parents.  “More than you’ll ever know.”

Laura heard him, and wrapped an arm around his waist as she gave him a hug. She knew exactly what he was talking about.

And as the little family left the house to make the all-too-familiar trip to Bayport Memorial, they had no way of knowing that they were being watched.

Watched and loved.

Good-bye Larry… echoed through the rooms of the house on the corner of Elm and High Streets.  I love you, big sister…more than you’ll ever know….

And then the watcher was gone.…

*The End*