LAST PLACE IN THE WORLD
by
Sandpiper
Chapter 2
The Chapters
She'd blown up at her mother nearly an hour ago, but Vanessa Bender was still shaking. She paced from the lavatory to the bathtub and back again. She looked down at the tile floor, wondering that she hadn't worn a groove in the floor from her pacing.
Oh God, this can't be happening, thought Vanessa, shivering. She rubbed her arms as if she were freezing, although it was hardly cold. She swallowed hard and felt tears slide down her cheeks.
A part of her wondered if she was crying for yelling at her mother or the fear that she'd never see Joe again. Growing up, it had just been her and her mother and they had grown so close. When Vanessa had first met Joe, she'd often wondered if her mother regretted that they had drifted apart just a bit. But Andrea Bender had encouraged her friendship with Joe and the other students at Bayport High.
A soft tap on the door jerked her out of her reverie. "No."
"Vanessa, it's me."
Vanessa recognized Callie's voice and reached over to unlock the door. She spared a glance into the bedroom beyond which she shared with Callie. "Where's Mom?"
"Probably with Frank's mom and dad."
Vanessa froze and looked over at Callie. "Oh God, no."
Callie sat down on the edge of the tub and stared down at her hands. "Frank said he looked everywhere."
Vanessa sank heavily to the floor as tears rushed down her cheeks. "Oh God, no."
Callie shuddered. "Oh, Van..." She moved away from the tub and sat down next to the distraught girl and just held her as Vanessa sobbed. "I'm so, so sorry, Vanessa," whispered Callie, suddenly feeling guilty that she still had her boyfriend. What a nightmare this vacation had turned into....
*****
The silence was starting to eat at him. One minute stretched into five as he sat there on the edge of the bed and stared down at his hands. Slowly, Fenton raised his head and looked at Laura, still staring out the window. "Laura."
"I won't believe it, Fenton." Her voice was laced with unshed tears.
"Laura—"
She spun around. "No! Damn it, Fenton, we haven't gone through all these years, with them risking their lives, with you risking everything to lose him to a damn faulty Jetski." Her slender body vibrated with anger and grief.
Fenton swallowed hard. "Honey, Detective Sheridan said there wasn't much of the Jetski left to analyze. If the Jetski is that destroyed—"
"No!" Laura shook her head. "No." She took a deep breath and faced the window again. "No."
Fenton walked up behind her and gingerly placed his hands on her shoulders. "Laura—"
He felt a shudder run through his wife's frame and she spun around again, burying her head in his chest. "Oh God, Fenton, why? Why our baby? It hurts so bad..."
Fenton wrapped his arms around her and felt his own eyes fill with tears. He'd been asking the same questions since Frank had told him yesterday what had happened. There was such a surreal feel to all of this, that it was impossible to really believe his youngest son was gone.
The telephone rang in the quiet, a jarring harsh sound in contrast to Laura's sobs. Silently, Fenton cursed the phone for intruding, but as it kept ringing, he realized he probably needed to answer it. "Laura—"
She gave a jerky nod and moved back to sit heavily in an upholstered chair while Fenton walked over to the nightstand and picked up the telephone. "Hello?...Detective Sheridan...Yes? I'm familiar with crime scene investigation techniques, Detective...And?"
Fenton's knees buckled and he slumped onto the bed. He sat there for a long moment before he realized that the man had said goodbye and had hung up. The dial tone blaring in his ear finally registered and he slowly replaced the phone in its cradle.
Laura wiped the tears off her cheeks with a shaking hand. "Fenton?"
Fenton gave her a stunned look. "The local CSI unit..." He cleared his throat. "They found trace amounts of motor oil and gasoline in the water in the vicinity of the explosion...and a scrap of metal that might have come from the engine housing..."
Laura went pale. "What? What does it mean?"
Fenton found he was shaking. "There was a bullet hole..." He shuddered. "Someone shot at J-Joe, hit the engine and the Jetski exploded."
Laura's blue eyes went wide and she burst into tears again. Fenton shuddered again. This was the last place in the world I ever dreamed danger would follow us, he thought, horrified. Who shot at my son?
*****
Frank walked out onto the verandah. He couldn't bear to hear his mother cry any more. He'd done that to her. He'd broken her heart by telling her he couldn't find Joe. The sound of a rocker caught him by surprise and he saw Andrea Bender staring out toward the ocean. After a moment, it registered that someone was looking at her and she gave a start. "Frank."
Frank gave her a careful nod and sat down in another rocker.
"I'm sorry." Andrea took a deep breath. "I'm so sorry."
Frank nodded again but didn't look at her. He stared down at the planks of the verandah, noting absently that the wood had been stained a pale golden color, a far cry from the rough, dry surface it had been the last time he'd been to Runner's Harbor. He shook his head at the ludicrous route his thoughts were taking him.
"Vanessa hates me, I'm sure, for suggesting leaving."
Frank slowly looked in her direction. "I don't think so. Grief makes—" The words seem to stick in his throat.
"Oh, Frank...I—" She glanced over her shoulder. "I hear your mother. She's—" Andrea shook her head and got to her feet. "I don't know what to say, Frank. Words can be so much crude patter when a tragedy occurs."
Frank finally looked up at her and made eye contact. "Then stay. If not to make Vanessa relieved, stay for Mom. She...she probably needs you and Mrs. Shaw..."
Andrea walked past him and then stopped, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Frank..." She gave his shoulder a squeeze. "All right, Frank, I will." She nodded and headed back into the hotel. "I will."
Frank stared down at the planks and a single tear splashed on his loosely clasped hands. As he watched the liquid spread and run off the base of his thumb in almost slow motion, another tear fell. Deep gut-wrenching sobs poured out of him, as if ripped from his very soul.
Tears came faster, sliding down his face, splashing his hands and the wooden floor. He tried to hold it in, hold it back but it made his throat ache and his entire body shake. His brother, his little brother...Oh God, it wasn't fair.
He squeezed his eyes shut to stop the flow of tears but he realized that was a mistake for images flashed almost too fast for him to recognize but he soon knew they were memories. Memories of childhood, of adventures, of their cases...
..."The only thing in the trunk was me, the scuba gear is in the front seat of the BMW."...."I was starting to enjoy the view from the rear."..."No problem. After a free week in the sun, I'm not about to complain."...."Squid? You serious or just trying to gross me out?"
Frank felt the tears come harder. After all they'd been through, how could it have ended like this? Memories crowded in, haunting him...
..."No. He doesn't look like anyone we know. Of course it was hard to tell behind the mask."..."See? You didn't have your fingers crossed."..."Either that or he's very antisocial."..."If every car came with one of those gadgets, auto theft rates would go way down."
A hand on his shoulder tore Frank from his memories. It was a huge effort to open his eyes and look to see who it was. His father stood there, looking dazed and grim. "Dad.."
"Sheridan called."
Frank went cold. "Dad?"
"Someone shot the Jetski. The CSI unit has a piece of the engine housing with a bullet hole in it."
Frank shot to his feet. "Then I'll make him pay."
"No." Fenton shook his head. "I will not lose another son."
Frank stood there for a long moment. "You won't lose me."
"Let the police handle this. For God's sake, Frank, let the police take care of it. Just this once!"
Frank swallowed hard. "Is that what you're going to do? Sit back, let the police take care of it? Is it?"
Fenton's hands clenched and it seemed to take a long time for him to unclench them. "Frank...let the police deal with it."
Frank stiffened, looked his father directly in the eyes. "No." He turned around and walked away.
Fenton watched him leave and took a deep breath. A part of him wanted to chase Frank down, drag him back to the hotel if necessary. God, he couldn't lose another son.
*****
Frank nearly tripped over his own feet as he stumbled down the path toward the parking lot. Tears blurred his vision and he finally stopped, before he fell flat on his face. Anger and grief surged through him until it left him shaking.
Frank leaned against a tree and shuddered. Anger flooded his mind, his heart. He wasn't going to stay on the sidelines on this. Someone shot at that Jetski. Someone killed his baby brother – and that someone would pay.
*****
Fenton watched his oldest son stalk away and swallowed hard. He started to take a step, to follow him, to do something, but he couldn't move. Slowly, he sank into a rocker. Discordant images and thoughts jumbled in his head like so many marbles clacking together. Memories of the boys – so tiny, so fragile when they were born. Frank with his dark fuzz on his head, and when Joe was born, he'd had such pale hair he'd looked bald nearly to his second birthday.
Fenton shuddered and nearly broke down in tears. He squared his shoulders. He couldn't break down – he had to be strong for Laura, he had to be there for her....
A hand fell on his shoulder and Fenton raised his head to see Charles Shaw standing there. Seeing the concern in the other man's eyes was nearly his undoing.
"I didn't mean to eavesdrop just now—"
"I can't lose another son, Charles," said Fenton, hoarsely.
"He's of age, Fenton, he's an adult. Let him work this out his own way."
Fenton moved to stand. "And if he was your son?"
Charles took a step back. "I can't say I know what you're going through but lashing out at everyone won't help."
"Damn it, I know," said Fenton, heavily. "I know."
"I'm sorry, Fenton."
Fenton gave a jerky nod. "Maybe....maybe Frank has a good idea. Maybe I need to go for a walk."
Charles nodded and watched Fenton leave the verandah. He stood there for a long moment. Perhaps it had been a mistake to come after all.
*****
Vanessa shifted as she realized just how hard the tile floor was. She looked over at Callie. "I'm glad you're here." She cleared her throat. "Where's Frank?"
"I don't know," said Callie, sadly. "He blames himself—"
"Oh God, it's not his fault," said Vanessa. "How could he have...known...?" She shuddered. "I can't even s-say it." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "I can't..."
Callie grabbed her hand. "Vanessa, shhh."
A knock sounded on the bathroom door and Callie pulled it open to see Laura Hardy standing there. "Girls, there's no need to stay in here."
Vanessa looked up at her and scrambled to her feet. She wrapped her arms around Laura. "Oh God, I'm so sorry..."
Laura held the girl tightly, and then motioned for Callie to come closer. She held them both in an almost desperate embrace. They stood there, clinging to each other for comfort, for support.
After a moment, Callie registered that her mother had joined in the hug. And a few minutes later, Andrea was there too. Callie squeezed her eyes shut. It was so hard to believe Joe was gone.
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Disclaimer
The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The authors have just borrowed them for an adventure or two. The authors promise to put the boys back when they are done with them. The authors do claim copyright to the original characters in this story. Please do not borrow original characters without express permission of the authors.