Fenton leaned against the wall, listening to his own breathing and trying to block out the incessant, throbbing pain in his leg.  He felt someone sit down close to him, and opened his eyes to see Kevin staring at him worriedly.

“Is there anything I can do for you?  Anything I can get you?” he asked anxiously.

Fenton smiled gratefully, then moved his head slightly to indicate the two men seated at a table on the other side of the room playing cards.  “Thank you, but I doubt they’ll be too accommodating.”

“Can’t hurt to ask, right?” Kevin said optimistically.  “Besides, you wouldn’t be here at all if I hadn’t gotten mixed up in all this.  I feel a little responsible for your getting shot and everything.”

‘He sounds like Joe,’ Fenton chuckled silently to himself. Another bead of sweat slowly trickled down his forehead and into his eye.  As he wiped his sleeve across his cool, clammy face Fenton realized just how hot and thirsty he really was.  “Maybe some water?” he murmured, closing his eyes again.

Immediately, Kevin stood up and turned towards the two men, but seemed to know better than to move any further.  “Excuse me, can I get him some water, please?”

The men looked up at Kevin and then at each other and shrugged.  “Sure, why not.”  The shorter of the two men, picked his gun up off the table and motioned Kevin towards the stairs.  As he did so he turned back to his companion.  “You want anything from upstairs?”

“Water sounds good,” he responded.

Fenton listened to the sounds of Kevin and his escort climbing the stairs and rummaging around in the kitchen.  With what seemed like an effort, he lifted his arm and checked his watch. ‘Three a.m.  They must be here by now.’ He felt somewhat consoled by the thought that his sons and Sam were, more than likely, already in town.  Since there would have been no more commercial flights leaving so late at night, he knew they would’ve had Jack Wayne fly them to Phoenix as soon as they realized he was missing.

“Here you go.”

Fenton snapped his eyes open as Kevin’s voice startled him.  He realized with dread that he must be worse off than he thought, if he didn’t even hear them come back down the stairs.  Pushing himself up a little straighter, Fenton bit the inside of his lip at the new waves of pain radiating through his leg.  “Thanks.” He took the plastic bottle of water Kevin offered as the young man settled in next to him.

“Here, thought these might help a little.”  Kevin extended a cold, wet cloth towards him with one hand, holding a plastic bag in the other. 

Fenton took the cloth, as he glanced in the bag seeing several more.  He laid the cool compress against his hot forehead, touched at Kevin’s concern.  “Thank you, Kevin,” he murmured softly.

“Least I could do.”  Kevin’s voice held a hint of embarrassment at the thanks being offered.  He was silent for a few moments, then spoke again, hesitatingly.  “So you…you saw my father?”

Fenton glanced at Kevin, unable to really read the expression on his face.  “Yes.  He came to Bayport—”

“He flew all the way out there?” Kevin asked, genuinely surprised.

“Yes, he did.  I guess he was afraid if he called my office I wouldn’t…” Fenton stopped, suddenly feeling very guilty, knowing he wouldn’t have taken a call from Jeff Cutter.  “Let’s just say he felt it was better to talk to me face to face.”

Kevin nodded as he considered the unspoken meaning.  “Was he…sober?”

Fenton looked up, startled.  From everything he’d read, Jeff had been clean and sober for years now.  Then again, maybe the reports weren’t as up to date as they should be. “Yes, very much so,” he replied, a little apprehensive.  “I thought he’d beaten that a few years ago.”

“He did – finally,” Kevin replied, unable, Fenton noticed, to hide the lingering touch of bitterness.  “I was just afraid that my being kidnapped…sort of being kidnapped…might have pushed him back to the bottle.”  He stopped for a moment and shook his head.  “Mom doesn’t need that.”

‘Mom doesn’t need that?!’ Fenton thought, slightly taken aback. Kevin was more concerned about how his father possibly succumbing to alcohol again would affect Carole than Jeff.  He thought of the very close relationship he shared with his own sons, and felt very, very sorry for his nephew.  He also felt a rush of shame.  Frank and Joe weren’t just his children, they were his business partners – and friends.  He sometimes forgot that not many fathers shared that kind of bond with their children; a bond he took for granted far too often.  ‘When was the last time I told them how much I love them?  How proud they’ve made me?  How lucky I am to be their father?’

“I saw your mom, too,” Fenton said quietly, sensing Kevin was much closer to her than Jeff.

“Is she okay?” Kevin asked anxiously, sitting up and leaning forward slightly.

“She seemed to be handling it well.”  Fenton smiled.  “When I found the CD I wasn’t sure if it was you who had stolen the money or not.”

Kevin frowned for a moment, then shrugged.  “I guess I can see how you’d come to that conclusion, not knowing what really happened.”

“Yes, well, when I mentioned that possibility to your parents, your mother almost ripped my head off.”

Kevin grinned, nodding.  “That’s Mom.  Even at her worst, she always at least made sure to check that Kelly and I were still alive every day.  Dad…” he shook his head, and the bitterness flashed again in his eyes.  “Once he hit the bottle nothing else mattered.  Not even us.  The only thing he cared about was where he was going to get the next drink.”

Fenton swallowed hard as guilt washed over him.  How many times had Carole called over the years, simply wanting to know if Joe was all right?  Maybe it was too hard for Laura to deal with, feeling as if she’d lost her child’s innocence and her trusted older sister in one blow. ‘But what about me?  Yes, I was angry – livid - at what happened.  But couldn’t I have taken ten seconds just to tell Carole that Joe was fine?’  He watched Kevin out of the corner of his eye and saw a young man whose soul was much, much older than it should be. ‘No child should have to grow up like that!’

“Oh, Kevin, I’m so sorry,” Fenton said softly. 

Kevin looked at him, surprised at the apology. Even without explanation, Kevin seemed to understand what he was referring to.  Kevin stared a moment longer, then looked down at the floor and shrugged. 

“Yeah, maybe you could’ve let Mom know what was going on, but even still…Mom and Dad made their own choices.  You didn’t force them to do what they did.  They’re the ones who chose to let their guilt over someone else’s kid control them to the extent that they didn’t care about their own kids.”  He looked up again, staring earnestly into Fenton’s eyes.  “Do I think you were too hard on them?  Yes.  Do I blame the way I grew up on you? No.  You’re responsible for your own choices.  You’ve got to live with those.  But the choices they made…they have to be responsible for those.”

Fenton was silent, stunned at the depth of maturity Kevin possessed.  He wasn’t sure he’d be quite so understanding if he were in Kevin’s shoes.  Of course Jeff and Carole were responsible for the choices they’d made.  But would they have made those same choices if Fenton had gotten off his high horse long enough to tell them Joe remembered nothing of that terrifying weekend?  He may not have been responsible for what they did, but he was the catalyst.

‘Oh, dear God…’ Fenton’s breath caught in his throat.  It was as if he’d been struck by a bolt of lightning, one that brought an epiphany; and it left him drowning in shame.

Jeff and Carole were the catalyst for Joe having been kidnapped, they made the unconscious choice to take their eyes off him.  It was a perfectly normal reaction to want to hold them responsible for that.  ‘But only that….Tilghman…he’s the one who hurt Joe; beat him; forced him to watch…’ Fenton shook his head in disgust. ‘You can’t have it both ways, Hardy.  If you hold them solely responsible for everything that happened to Joe, you have to hold yourself responsible for…’ He glanced at Kevin again, seeing a man who never had a chance to be a child, and almost choked on the guilt.

“How is Kelly?” he heard himself ask, almost as if he were a spectator and not a participant in the conversation.

Kevin looked at him sharply, then looked away just as quickly.  “She’s probably not a good topic of discussion,” he replied cryptically.

“Oh?  Why not?” Fenton got a bad feeling, as if he should let the subject of Kelly just drop, but a sudden overpowering need to know how Jeff and Carole’s neglect – unfortunately, there was no other word for it, he realized – had affected her.

“She’s a pretty messed up person.  Bitter, vindictive, hateful…” Kevin sounded weary.  It also sounded like he didn’t particularly like his sister.

Fenton’s thoughts returned to his own sons, once more.  Frank and Joe would die for each other, probably kill for each other if necessary.  But Kevin and Kelly, it appeared they didn’t even like each other.  Fenton suddenly felt immensely sorry for the young man next to him.  Frank and Joe had him, Laura, Gertrude, Callie, Vanessa, a multitude of very close friends and most importantly when Laura and Fenton were gone, each other!  Kevin and Kelly had… no one. ‘What a horrible feeling that must be!’ He couldn’t even imagine feeling so alone. 

“Hateful?” he repeated, wondering who she held responsible for the way her life had turned out.  It now occurred to Fenton he had no idea how much – or how little – Kevin and Kelly really knew about what had happened to Joe.  Exactly what had their parents told them?  Everything? Nothing?  They must have told them something.

“Yeah, she pretty much hates the whole world, but…” Kevin hesitated and then snapped his mouth shut as if he’d said too much already.

“But there’s one person she hates more than anyone.  Someone she ultimately holds responsible for…everything,” Fenton guessed, assuming that person was one of her parents or possibly even himself. 

“Yeah,” Kevin confirmed quietly.

“Me?” Fenton ventured.

Kevin shook his head and looked at Fenton almost apologetically.  “Joe.”

‘Joe?!’  The reply was so totally unexpected it left Fenton reeling.  “JOE?!  How could she possibly-“

“I don’t know how – or why,” Kevin shrugged his shoulders. “But she does. And no one will ever convince her otherwise.  Believe me, my parents have tried.”  Kevin sighed and closed his eyes.  A moment later he slid down and curled up on the cold, cement floor.  The discussion was over.

Kevin’s revelation had left Fenton so stunned he momentarily forgot about the pain in his leg.  This case had not only opened a Pandora’s box of feelings and memories he never wanted to face again, it had added a multitude of new emotions.  Emotions he wasn’t sure he could face…and one unanswered, burning question he didn’t know if he could live with….Why?

*****

Joe, Frank and Sam sat in the hotel restaurant, fueling up for the day ahead.   Joe pushed the eggs around on his plate, catching bits and pieces of the conversation going on between Sam and his brother, but too tired to join in.  Lost in his own thoughts, he couldn’t get over the bizarre way fate had brought the Hardy and Cutter families back together, after his parents had apparently spent almost twenty years trying to keep them apart.  Feeling a gentle nudge against his leg, Joe looked up to see Sam staring at him, somewhat bemused.

“You look like you’re pondering the meaning of life,” Sam quipped.  “If you’ve found the answer I’d love to hear it.”

Joe chuckled and flushed slightly.  Sam knew how to lighten a mood even in the most serious of situations.  It was one of the traits Joe liked most about him.

“I was just thinking how bizarre this all is.”

“How so?” Frank asked. 

“I mean this whole situation is so ironic,” Joe mused. “I disappeared eighteen years ago when Cutter was supposed to be watching me and Dad was the one who found me. And now Cutter’s son disappears, and who is the first person he asks for help in finding him…Dad.”

“If you think that’s ironic, try this,” Sam replied, with an almost disbelieving grin. “Before you were kidnapped, your father was doing okay as a P.I.  He had steady work, but no one was beating a path to his door.  Bringing down Tilghman’s child porn ring sent his career into the stratosphere. 

Both boys sat, stunned into silence for a moment.  They had grown used to the fact that their father was one of the most well-known, sought after and respected investigators in law enforcement, but neither one of them had really thought about just how his reputation came to be.

“At least something good came out of all that,” Joe finally murmured.  As he reached for his coffee, something flickered in the back of Joe’s mind, triggered by Sam’s little speech.  He struggled for a moment to capture the fleeting thought, sensing it was important; something he needed to grab and hold onto but it retreated safely into his subconscious.  “So what’s our first move today?” he asked glancing from Sam to Frank.

“I’ve got a meeting set up with Andresson at Myelin first thing this morning.  He’s going to brief us on everything Fenton’s been doing and what they’ve discussed.  Maybe you two can pick up on something I missed when I spoke to him last night,” Sam stopped and took a sip of coffee.  “After that we’ll head over to Kevin’s house, see if we can find anything else there. By the time we finish, if we haven’t found anything, the hotel staff who were working last night will be on duty again so we can come back here and question them.”

“I hope it doesn’t come to that,” Frank murmured.

“Why not?”

Frank sighed deeply, worry clouding his eyes. “Because it means nothing else panned out and we’re no closer to finding Dad than we are right now.”

Joe sat back, letting Frank’s words sink in, so tired he hadn’t made the connection himself.  He’d been able to fall asleep again after the nightmare, but by then he was only able to get an hour or so of dreamless sleep.  The moment he’d awakened so had the depression, and it had taken every ounce of concentration to keep it from drowning him.

Staring at the half-eaten plate of food in front of him, Joe realized a lot of times when he felt like this, talking to his father seemed to ease some of the dark thoughts that clouded his mind. This time, though, that wasn’t an option.  Feeling as if the last bit of light were being squeezed from his soul, he wondered if it would ever be an option again.

‘Stop it!’ Joe commanded himself. ‘That’s just the depression talking. Dad is alive and we’re going to find him!’

“Joe, you ready?”

Startled, Joe looked up to see Sam and Frank with their jackets on, standing next to the table, obviously ready to go.  Joe nodded and got up, grateful to be doing something to keep his mind occupied.  As he followed his brother and Sam out of the restaurant, Joe wondered how easy it would be to do that as the day wore on.  This entire case began and ended with the Cutters.  No matter which way he turned Joe would be reminded of that one haunting question…

‘Why?’   

Sliding into the rear seat of the car Joe leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes.  Hoping to catch a quick nap during the ride to the offices of Myelin Manufacturing, Joe was unaware of Sam’s seemingly innocent comment, now buried deep in his subconscious, trying to make itself heard again, “Then along comes your dad.  He exposes the ring and basically tears it to pieces, saving God knows how many kids from being sold into what amounts to sexual slavery.”  Joe shifted slightly, trying to get a little more comfortable. As he felt himself drifting off to sleep, the revelation trying to force its way to conscious thought retreated again.  The time wasn’t right yet, but it would be soon…very soon.