After Laura hung up with Joe, she decided to go and lie down for a while.  Joe said his father had gone to see Ezra, and from past experience, she knew that meeting could last an hour…or the better part of the night, so she wasn’t really expecting Fenton to call her back very soon.

Lying down, she sighed heavily and closed her eyes.  It had been an emotionally exhausting day.  She had underestimated the toll it would take on her to see Gwynne again after all this time. To see her, and have words with her, again….

“Oh, Paulie,” she whispered as a hot tear slowly traced a path down her soft cheek, “after all these years, she still misses you…and so do I, little brother, so do I….”

Turning over onto her side, she tried to ignore the aching longing that threatened to send her into the evening seeking comfort from the side of a cold grave…and she had never felt so alone….

* * *

The further Joe got from Bayport the better he felt.  And the better he felt, the worse he felt.  He hated lying to Frank.  And once the cold knot of fear had vanished, it was replaced by a bellyache of guilt.

“Sometimes I just hate being me,” he grumbled as he paid close attention to the other traffic on the highway with him. He knew he didn’t really mean it, though; he just hated feeling like he was right now.  The blond teen was very tempted to just turn around, go home and throw himself at Frank’s feet, begging forgiveness for deceiving him.

But at the mere thought of seeing the ‘YOU ARE NOW ENTERING BAYPORT CITY LIMITS’ sign, any consideration he had for going back, was quickly erased as he swallowed a rush of fear that made him feel light-headed for just a moment.

“Mom will appreciate having her car,” he told himself, “Save her having to taxi around.”  And then he scoffed, “Oh come on Hardy, you can do a much better job of trying to convince yourself that you’re not really running away, than this!!”

Absently fumbling for the radio dial, he finally found a station that didn’t make him want to track down the DJ and pummel him with old ‘45 records, and told himself to just shut up.  He couldn’t possibly drive and berate himself properly at the same time – the berating would have to wait until he got to New York City!!

* * *

“Hey Frank.” Fenton said as he came into the kitchen and saw his older son fixing himself a black coffee. “Where’s your brother?”

Frank sighed and looked at his father as he said as matter-of-factly as he could, “New York City.”

“What?” the detective said, his own shock mirroring Frank’s from only a little while ago when Joe had dropped that bombshell on him!

“New York,” Frank repeated patiently.  “Apparently Mom called and asked Joe to drive her car up, tonight.”

“That doesn’t sound like your mother,” Fenton remarked as he took the cup of coffee his son was now offering him.  “Thanks.”

“I know,” Frank agreed, sitting down at the table, “But he just tossed some stuff in a bag and was out of here before I could do anything.”

“Did you ask your Mom about it?” Fenton pressed, not too sure he liked this at all.  Both Frank and Joe were very good drivers but he still didn’t relish the idea of his younger son making the journey, after dark, by himself.  Particularly in light of the threat he’d received.

“I tried calling but there’s no answer,” Frank admitted.

“Okay, well why don’t I try again now,” Fenton said, already moving to the phone and picking it up.  After a few minutes, he frowned and replaced the receiver.  “No answer.”

Immediately a look of concern passed over Frank’s face.  “You don’t think there’s anything wrong do you?”  He was wondering if maybe his mother had been forced to make that phone call to Joe, who was at this moment on his way into a trap…a trap that might have already ensnared his mother!!

But his father was shaking his head.  “No. I don’t. Your aunt usually turns off her phones when she’s gone and lets the answering machine take the calls.  She’s afraid that an unanswered phone would alert would-be burglars that she wasn’t home.”

Frank had to chuckle as he thought about the feisty older woman.  “Yeah, that sounds like Auntie.  And she’d probably also turn down the volume on the answering machine, by the same account.”

Fenton nodded, pleased at his son’s logical deduction.  “Exactly.”  He pursed his lips and then asked, “Did your brother say he’d phone when he got there?”

“Yes,” Frank nodded, “And his cell’s still out of commission so it’s no use trying to call him right now.”

“Oh, that’s right,” the detective said, sitting down at the table across from Frank.  “I’d completely forgotten about that.  He probably should have taken yours, then.”  A week earlier, while Joe and Frank had helped Fenton apprehend a smuggler, Joe had taken an impromptu swim in Barmet Bay; a swim from which his cell phone had never recovered.

“I never thought about that,” the dark-haired teen admitted, mentally kicking himself.  But Joe had up and left before he had a chance to think of much of anything!

“By the way,” Frank continued, “I didn’t get a chance to tell you yet, but guess who’s been asked to be Coach Iago’s new assistant Coach for the rest of the summer?”  His brown eyes shone with excitement and Fenton chuckled.

“Oh I don’t know…” he teased before saying, “You?”

“Yup!”  Frank said, his face beaming.  “And my first game is tomorrow.”

Fenton smiled at his son.  “I’m very proud of you. Tomorrow, huh? Who knows, maybe I can work it into my schedule to come watch.”

The beaming face suddenly turned to stunned, and this made the detective laugh out loud.  “Don’t look so shocked, son!  I have been known to go to yours or Joe’s game on occasion….”

“I’m sorry, Dad,” Frank said, recovering, “It’s just…wow…that would be great.  Of course, I’d understand if you can’t make it.”

The detective sighed affectionately as he regarded his older child, understanding to a fault at times.  “I’ll be there, Frank, you can count on it.”

Frank smiled and nodded.  If his father said he would be there, then he would.

“Did you say Damian Iago is coaching the team again?” Fenton said a few moments later.  “I wasn’t aware that he’d moved back.”

“Yeah, I was kinda shocked to see him too,” Frank admitted, “But he was at the track this morning.”

The detective nodded slowly, a small frown playing across his face as a flickering of an idea formed and he asked his son, carefully, “Frank, did you tell Joe about this?”

“Yeah, I told him about running into coach and being asked to help out,” Frank said.  “I even asked him to go to the game tomorrow.”

“Did Joe tell you about his trip to New York before or after he found about Iago’s return?” Fenton pressed, and Frank frowned and said slowly:

“Now that you mention it…no, he didn’t.  Not until I asked him to go to my game….”

Fenton sat back in his chair and sighed.  “I have a sneaking suspicion that your mother knows nothing about Joe’s impending arrival.”  He continued before Frank could comment, “I think he’s running away from having to see your coach again.”

The dark-haired teen opened his mouth to say something when he was hit with a very powerful flashback…

“Hey Joey!” Frank called out to his brother as he ran across the field towards him.  Joey was standing beside the coach, holding his hand.  The younger boy looked like he had been crying and Frank was immediately alarmed, “What’s wrong?”

The coach answered, “His dog ran away.”

“What?”  Frank looked in disbelief from his brother to the coach – Hero ran away? That was impossible, that dog always came for Joey…but the coach just nodded his head.

 “I’m afraid it’s true.  He saw a squirrel and took off.”

Frank frowned and he turned to his brother again, but the little boy wouldn’t look at him as tears still flowed down his young face.  “Joey?  Did you tell Hero to come back?”

The youngster didn’t acknowledge him in any way, and Frank became worried.  He leaned over to look his brother in the face but Joey just turned away.  His concern grew – what happened? 

The coach shook his head sadly.  “I’m sorry about the dog.  I’ll take a drive around the neighborhood and see if I can see him.  I’m sure he’ll turn up – he’s kind of too big to miss.”  Turning to leave, he looked back at Frank and winked as he said, “Great game, Frank. You made me proud today,” and as the dark-haired boy beamed under his praise, the coach smiled at Joey, “and thanks for helping me kill time, Joey…”

The little boy took off running for home…with Frank in hot pursuit.

He understood his brother’s haste – they had to tell their parents about Hero!

“Oh God, how could I have forgotten?”  Frank admonished himself, “Hero!”

Fenton just nodded his head in grim agreement.  Hero.

* * *

Joe found a parking spot outside his aunt’s building and slowly got out of the driver’s seat.  He stretched his cramped muscles and stifled a yawn, looking at the time. Ten o’clock wasn’t exactly late, but he’d had a long day and highway driving always wore him out!

“Prepare to be chewed out,” he warned himself, sure that by now either Frank or his father would have called his mother, and she’d be livid at him for not only lying about her telephone call, but about driving up here by himself!

So steeling himself for the reception, he opened the glass front doors and crossed the small lobby to the key pad, where he would need to be buzzed in by his mother.  He saw a tall, dark-haired woman looking over the list of names posted next to the key pad, and patiently waited his turn.

Hearing someone else come into the lobby, the woman glanced over her shoulder, and than whirled around so quickly Joe took an inadvertent step back.  Her face went completely white…and then she just collapsed!!