Note: Thank you so much to those who have read or Favorited the story. A special thank you to those of you who have left feedback, which is very much appreciated: Hlahabibty, Hero76, Drumboy100, max2013, FANHB08, sm2003495, ErinJordan, candylou, BeeBee18, ChrisCorso, hbndgirl, BMSH, EvergreenDreamweaver, and Caranath. I sincerely appreciate your time and support!

Relative Fortune

Chapter 2

Joe sat in the office of Ezra Collig, longtime Chief of the Bayport PD. Collig was one of his greatest mentors, having been his dad's best friend for as long as Joe could remember, and he served as practically an uncle to him.

"'Bout time you showed up," Collig grumbled as he entered his office, eyes popping open as he saw Joe lazily flipping through his cellphone as he lounged on Collig's desk. "And get the hell off my desk."

My ornery, pain in the ass uncle, Joe thought with a smirk as he listened to Collig. Some things never changed.

"Good to see you, too," Joe quipped, doffing his baseball cap at him. "No place I'd rather be and with no finer and more upbeat company."

Collig just stared right at him and shook his head before letting the smallest laugh escape. "One of these days your smart mouth is going to get you in trouble," he said with a sigh. "How's Vanessa? And my boy?"

Joe had to smile. Evan was named partially after Chief Collig, and he came to see him at least a few times a month, the moments when he saw Collig happy and carefree. And Joe knew that, deep down, he had a very soft spot in his heart for him, Frank, and their respective families, though he and Collig often clashed. Admittedly, Joe knew that he often broke every rule in the book to get things done, but still... Collig hadn't killed him. Yet.

"He's great," Joe replied. "And you know Van's feeling better. Thanks a lot for asking, Chief. I think you're getting just a little fond of me," he joked.

"And I think that's proof that your judgement is off," he retorted.

At those words, there was a knock on the door and Pat Merkel, one of Joe's best friends and a well respected officer on the force, walked in. "Chief. Joe," he nodded, trying to be serious, and Joe stifled a laugh. Pat got in trouble as much as he did with Chief Collig, which made sense, as they often worked together and were very successful, though how they obtained those results didn't always mesh well with procedure.

"Patrick," Joe stated with mock formality and a straight face. "Delightful to see you! I assume we'll be working together again under Chief Collig's stellar guidance. I look forward to the opportunity to serve with you and…"

"I haven't even told both of you what the assignment is, young Hardy, and already you're pissing me off enough to remove you from the case," Collig cut him off. "Are you in or not?"

"We're in," Pat answered, and Joe nodded, apologized quickly, and crossed his arms.

"You said something about a missing persons case. What's up?" Joe asked, serious now.

"In your brother's case, it's a missing person- that's a serious ongoing situation, and I'll head there as soon as we're done here. In your case, there's been a murder, and we have an unidentified female in the morgue," Collig began. "We also got a call for a missing person at the same time, so we think it's probably the woman in the morgue. We're waiting on the family to identify the body."

"So why do you need us?" Pat asked, nodding his head at Joe.

Collig handed Joe a sheet of paper. "We can't do too much until we get a positive ID, but I put together a list of what we do know so that we can get on it right away when we verify the info. The woman's body was found in the outskirts of Bayport by River Road, where it's very isolated. It looks as if she's been dead less than 12 hours."

Joe scanned the paper as he stood by Pat and sucked in his breath. The details were pretty horrifying.

"You can tell this is a little strange," Collig said directly. "First, the body was found in the middle of nowhere. It was so isolated, in fact, that the man who found her- his name is in the report- first thought that it was a deer that had been hit on the side of the road. She was run over, and her body was shot with bullet holes. And her underwear was found around her ankles."

"Sexual assault?" Pat asked, and Collig nodded. "I assume. We're waiting on confirmation." As Pat and Collig continued to speak, Joe turned away quietly.

Sexual assault. Again. Ever since Callie had shared her story with him on Christmas, it seemed that he was hyper aware of these cases, and they were everywhere. Behind each headline, he knew all too well, was a victim, a life disrupted, destroyed, or ended by the selfishness and violence of others. He also knew that he would make it his mission to help in these cases, fueled by a personal need for vengeance. He also knew, conversely, that Frank should have nothing to do with it. He had suffered too much already.

"You okay, buddy?" Pat asked, noting Joe's change in demeanor. Even Collig looked at him strangely.

"Yeah. I'm fine," he replied quietly. "Listen, we'll get on it. Let's not share this with Frank unless we need to, okay? He'll be busy enough. We can handle it."

"That's why I called you," Collig said, simply. "Oh- and Vogelthorpe will be in charge of the case and help you guys out. The other situation is taking precedence."

Pat groaned. "Really? Chief, we're fine to do this on our own."

Joe couldn't help but to agree, and he felt bad for Pat. Logan Vogelthorpe had been Pat's enemy on the force for years. He was an overbearing, overzealous officer who slightly out-ranked Pat and took every opportunity to throw that fact in Pat's face. He'd always resented Pat for his family history in law enforcement, thinking Pat got special treatment because of it. Joe knew nothing could have been further from the truth; in fact, Pat worked harder than almost anyone else simply because he didn't want special treatment. Of course, Collig rode him mercilessly, but Joe knew that he cared about Pat a lot. He and Pat were forever in trouble with Collig, but that was only because he was trying to look out for them and keep them in line.

"Yes, really, Officer Merkel," Collig answered. "You know damned well he has a lot of experience in the drug and gang task force, and we have a feeling this case MIGHT be related; it has some characteristics of those areas. Unless you're suggesting that your personal issues with Officer Vogelthorpe take precedence over a victim's rights..."

Pat flushed, and Joe sighed inwardly. "No, sir," Pat replied, flushed.

"Good. Now wait here for notification from the family or the morgue that we have a positive ID on the victim. I'll head to Frank and Fenton, and be in touch with you soon." He turned and left the room.

As soon as he left, Pat let loose a string of expletives under his breath and slammed his hand on the desk. "Son of a bitch," he grumbled. "Why does Collig do this to me?"

Joe sighed and pat his back. "Who the hell knows? Knowing him, it's a test of some sort. Sorry, man. I'm always in trouble with Collig, so I feel you."

"I know," Pat admitted with a sigh. "But he put us together for a reason again, so he must sense something is off. He always keeps us away from each other unless it's a big case, because he knows we get it done. So what do we do now? Wait?"

Joe smiled. "Hell no. Since when do we follow the rules?"

Pat finally grinned back. "I was worried there for a sec that you actually might listen to him."

"I'm offended," Joe joked. "Listen, why don't we head over to the address of the accident, or murder, or whatever the crime was? Where the body was found? I know it's a crime scene, but we've been known to distract people to get what we want. Then, I'll call Frank and see what's up with him. Sound good?"

"Beats sitting around," Pat agreed. He turned to go, but glanced at Joe. "Come on- I'll drive in the patrol car. I don't feel like dealing with traffic. Mind if we stop off at McDonalds? I'm hungry."

Thinking of his lunch with his brother less than an hour ago, he smiled. He never did get that milkshake. "Did you just ask me that?" he asked, and Pat laughed.

At least if he was going to investigate and probably get into trouble, Pat would be right there with him, as usual.

He headed for the door, waiting for the case to begin.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Wait. Go through that one more time, dad," Frank requested of his father as he sat in his father's office at their business.

Fenton Hardy ran a hand through his dark hair as he repeated the story to his eldest son. "I received a phone call from a man named Lorenzo Santitori," Fenton began again. "Less than an hour ago. He told me that his two year old niece is missing and he begged me for help. She was kidnapped from her family home a few hours ago. Apparently, his sister Jessica and her boyfriend, Joshua Flagstone, have been unable to locate her. We need to head over there now," he said, grabbing his coat. "Collig will meet us."

Following his father to his car, Frank entered on the passenger side. Fenton keyed the address on the GPS and then started to pull out of the lot. "I still don't understand," Frank went on. "A baby is missing and the parents didn't call the cops?! That makes no sense."

Fenton glanced at him from the corner of his eye. "I know. Of course, I told him to call the cops immediately, and he agreed, and then I followed up with the call myself. Collig should be there anyway now, but he had another case apparently. Anyway, yes- I agree with you. Why an PI gets a call before the cops I have no idea."

Frank stared out the window momentarily, hoping this was a false alarm. In his line of business, he had seen it all, had dealt with every imaginable crime. In most cases, he was able to detach and think logically, to separate emotion and logic. That was his job. After all, he couldn't help people if he couldn't focus. But every detective, every cop, every first -responder had areas that they liked to avoid at all costs. While Joe wanted nothing to do with terrorism because of his past with Iola, Frank wanted nothing to do with sexual assault cases because of Callie. They both also were particularly sensitive to cases involving children, especially since they had become fathers. However, unlike the first two areas, they both felt compelled to help; they would stop at nothing when kids were involved. The thought that a little child would be hurt gnawed at him as his mind flashed to his own son and daughter, who were even younger than this child.

Finally, they arrived at a trailer park at the far end of Bayport's west side. Getting out of the car, he looked quickly around at the place now crawling with cops and followed his dad to the home in question, where Collig was waiting.

"Fenton, Frank," Collig began, "I'm letting some officers investigate the place and they're already looking into how the child was taken. Teams are out back."

"So it's true?" Fenton asked, and Collig nodded grimly.

Frank surveyed the scene and, immediately, something caught his eye. An expensive Mercedes was sitting in the front of the otherwise poor home and neighborhood. "Whose car is that?" Frank asked immediately.

"Santitori's," Collig answered. "You two go in and interview him and see if he and the parents will tell you the same story they told me. Be quick, because every second matters."

Fenton looked past his shoulder. "Let me come with you," he told his friend. "I need to go over a few things. Frank- you can handle this?" It was more of a statement than a question.

"Of course," Frank agreed, and he entered the home as an officer opened the door.

"Mr. Hardy?" a man inquired as he stood to greet Frank. He appeared to be in his late thirties to early forties, with slightly graying dark hair and brown eyes. His appearance was in stark contrast to his environment, as he looked well put together in expensive clothing. He appeared very anxious as he shook Frank's hand.

"Frank," he responded. "I'm here to help."

"I thought it was Fenton?" the man asked, curious.

"That's my father. He's outside. We work together. Please- tell me what you know." He looked around the small living room into the kitchen, mentally surveying the scene. He noted the several pictures of a young couple and a baby, the threadbare surroundings… and the smell of marijuana. "And may I ask where the child's parents are?"

"Lorenzo," the man replied. "Yes. They're outside and speaking with Detective George Kirk." He pulled the curtain back and pointed to a young couple. "They'll be in shortly."

"So tell me why we're here," Frank said to him, cutting to the chase. "I have a lot of questions, starting with why you called us and the parents did not and why the first call was not to the police..."

Santitori sighed heavily. "Look at this place," he said. "Do you think this is the proper place to raise a child?"

Frank raised his brows. "I have no basis to comment on that," he said neutrally. "Please, just tell me what you know."

"Frank," he began nervously playing with his watch, "my sister, Jessica, lives here with her boyfriend Josh and my two year old niece, Stella. It's… she's had a lot of problems."

Frank was trying to follow. "Who? Stella?"

"No- Jessica... and Josh," he replied. "Look at this trailer. It's no place to raise a child. I've been trying to get Jessica to a better place, but she refuses. It's not the right environment for her to get her act together."

"Lorenzo," Frank said pointedly, "I'll be happy to discuss whatever is of concern to you, but I need to help find your niece. Please get to the point."

Lorenzo Santitori met his eyes. "My sister called me this morning hysterical, saying that Stella was missing. She put her to bed last night- supposedly- and this morning she was gone."

"Why do you say 'supposedly'? Frank asked.

Lorenzo shrugged. "My sister is not always known for being aware of her surroundings or her sense of responsibility."

Frank sighed. "So you're implying she has a drug issue?" he asked.

"Not implying- stating," Lorenzo responded. "A very bad one, as does her low life boyfriend. Stella's father is out of the picture."

"Heroin?" Frank asked, knowing the epidemic in the area.

"Everything," he answered. "But yes. That and cocaine, primarily. My guess is that they had some… packages… in their possession, and hence calling the police wasn't exactly in their plan. So she called me in a panic, and I called your agency. The Hardy name is well known."

"You knew the cops would be involved immediately," Frank replied.

"Of course," Lorenzo stated. "But my sister may have needed some time to take care of … things," he said vaguely, "before the cops arrived."

Frank was incredulous but tried to mask his expression. He could not imagine ever in his life thinking about himself, no matter what the issue, if one of his children was in danger. The only thing that would matter would be getting his child back immediately. Although his first instinct was to place blame on the couple, he forced himself to remain neutral and to listen. One never knew who was telling the truth when being interviewed, especially this early in an investigation.

Realizing that this guy was probably not going to be of any more help, he asked, "May I have a few pictures of the child?"

"Sure," Lorenzo stated immediately. "Please help yourself and keep me up to date with the investigation."

"You're leaving?" Frank asked, surprised, noting how disgusted Lorenzo looked at his surroundings.

"There's nothing more for me to do here," he said evenly. "I trust that you and the police detectives will be more than capable of finding my beautiful niece." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, handing it to Frank. "All of my information is here, and I'll also be in contact with your office. Please… find her." He nodded briefly, picked up his expensive coat and scarf, and left.

For a brief moment, Frank was again struck by the scene. Clearly, the man had a vested interest in his family, but, if Joe was going through a crisis, or, god forbid, Evan was missing, he would never leave his family. He'd move heaven and earth to get help for Joe, would sacrifice everything for his nephew. How could this guy just abandon his sister? Before he could contemplate that further, a tearful Jessica Santitori was led into the house by Detective Kirk, while Frank noted quickly that his father and Chief Collig were interviewing the boyfriend outside.

"Frank," Kirk began, "feel free to speak with Ms. Santitori. We're finishing up outside. It looks like the point of entrance was a window in the child's bedroom. We're putting out an APB and we'll get a press conference going in an hour. We are also issuing an Amber Alert immediately. I'll meet you outside." He turned and left in a hurry.

Frank sighed. What was the matter with people? Kirk had been around for a few years, and Frank knew he was a competent officer and lead investigator. He, too, though seemed to be averse to the environment, turned off by the poverty and drug ridden area. While it certainly wasn't ideal, these were people, for god's sake, and a little baby was missing. Where was the compassion?

"Ms. Santitori?" Frank asked softly when they were alone. She was thin, in her early thirties, with black hair and brown eyes, pale skin, and dark circles beneath her eyes. One look at her and Frank could see the truth of Lorenzo's words. She had the look of an addict, appearing older and more haggard than her age should allow. Nonetheless, he could picture her as she could have been, could see that she was pretty… and scared.

She looked up at him and wiped away tears. She looked completely drained. "I don't know what else to say. I've told the cops everything," she said weakly.

"Please, sit," he told her, and gently touched her arm as he led her to the couch. She looked shocked.

"I'm so sorry for you're going through," he told her in a soft voice, trying to calm her and seeing at once that it was working. "I know how scared you are." She wiped back tears again, but he could tell she was listening.

"I'm a dad, too," he told her. "My little boy is your daughter's age. I would be terrified if something like this happened. Please know that the police will do whatever it takes to find Stella. My dad, brother, and I are private detectives, and we've seen abductions before. We know what to do."

She met his eyes at last. "Did you find the children?" she whispered.

"We found some," he answered honestly. "And the sooner we got involved, the better. This is a good sign that you have us here so early. Please try to have faith."

"You're… nice," she managed, lip trembling. "Thank you. Please. Find my baby." She looked out the window. "He didn't do it," she went on.

"Who?" Frank asked, confused.

"Josh. I know they think he did it. Me and Josh, we've been in trouble before with drugs. You probably know that. My brother likes to tell everyone about me, thinks he can save me and Stella. He hates Josh." She took a shaky breath. "Listen…" she started, confused.

"Frank," he told her gently.

She gave a tiny smile. "Frank," she repeated. "No matter what he told you, I'm clean now. I've been clean, ever since I got pregnant with my baby." She choked back a sob. "I'm tryna fix up my life." She continued crying silently. "But no one wants to help me. I mean, Lorenzo will, but then he'll control everything, and I don't want that. I wanna make it for my baby and show her I can do it and be a role model, you know? But I ain't got a lotta money and I got a bad reputation. I was turning it around, though… for my Stella. I was! I gotta job as a waitress and I was goin' back for my G.E.D. Please- I can't do anything without my baby."

Frank handed her a handkerchief which she gratefully accepted.

"Jessica, you said you're clean. Is Josh?"

"No," she said, and he was surprised by her honesty. "But he's a good guy. He's tryin'. He don't really do too many drugs, though, anymore. Just alcohol now. That's it- I swear. Please don't waste time digging up info on him. I don't want drugs in my life anymore. Someone else has my baby."

"Stella's dad?" he started, but she cut him off.

"He's out of the picture. She has no dad; I don't even know him. I… I was raped," she said simply. "Lorenzo said it was my fault because of how I lived at the time. Maybe it was. But- I got my baby, and she's all good."

Frank felt the color start to leave his face as he flashed to Callie before pushing the thought away. "No," he said to her, finding his voice. "Don't you EVER believe it is your fault. EVER." He had to soften his voice when he realized how intense it had gotten, but the look of relief in her eyes made it worth it as she whispered yet another word of thanks to him.

"You heard nothing at all last night?" Frank questioned, changing tactics. "When did you put her to bed?"

"11:00," she answered. "I got off my shift at 9:00. Josh was watching her. I got home and showered and then played with her a little before I put her to sleep. Don't judge me 'cause it was late."

"I'm not judging you," he answered, kindly. "I understand. I have a little girl, too, and I love to play with her before she goes to sleep. I'm just trying to help. Jessica, is there ANYTHING else I need to know, something you think is important but maybe you were afraid to tell the police? Please- the quicker you come clean, the better chance we have of finding Stella.

She shook her head, but he sensed the hesitation.

"Okay," Frank replied, seeing she wouldn't talk more. "Thank you for your time, and I'll be in touch. Cooperate with the police- do what they ask. If you think of anything at all, call me." He reached into his wallet and pulled out his card, which she took.

"Thanks for being nice," she replied in a small voice.

He smiled. "I hope more people are nice to you. Hang in there. Good-bye."

As soon as he exited the home, he closed the door and sighed heavily. He wanted to believe her, he did, but he'd seen the weed, smelled it as soon as he entered her home. He would have to suggest a drug test to Collig for both Jessica and Josh, just to see what they were hiding, but he couldn't help but feel bad for her. She was going through the worst day of her life, and she needed someone to help her, not scare her. If his child was missing…

Suddenly, he needed to see them. There was nothing else he could do right now, at least for a few hours, and he knew he should rest a bit, as this could be a long, tragic night and he would be awake for a long time. He would ask his dad to drive him back; he was motioning him over anyway. Their role was going to investigate behind the scenes now; he knew that.

Frank held up a finger, indicating for his dad to hold on for a moment. He pulled out his phone and texted Joe to call him in a few minutes. Then he texted his in-laws and let them know he would be picking up the kids on the way home. Finally, he texted Callie that he would be home within the next hour or two with the kids.

Right now, he wanted to spend as much time holding his own babies as he could. He needed to see Callie, to have his family close to him, if even for a little bit, to assure himself that they were all okay and safe, and to tell them he loved them.

Because he needed them. This case, with the two year old, the assault, the tension with the family, was hitting a little too close to home.