I'll Be Home For Christmas

Chapter 4

Driving as fast as legally possible through the streets of Bayport, Fenton thought back on his conversation with Andrea Bender. He'd finally managed to get her calmed down enough to get the gist of her story. She had forgotten to buy eggnog for Christmas Eve dinner, something Vanessa apparently had her heart set on. Seeing how disappointed Vanessa was, Joe volunteered to make a quick run to the store and pick some up before it closed – the very same store where the armored car theft had taken place.

Andrea's words had come at a rapid clip as she explained the two teens should have been back almost an hour ago. She had tried both Joe's and Vanessa's cell phones and gotten the 'out of range' message. Repeating that information seemed to set her off again and Fenton managed to assuage her fears slightly by reminding her that a lot of those huge buildings had very poor cell phone reception and she might be panicking for nothing. Recalling the news report, Fenton knew the police would have cordoned off the supermarket immediately upon arrival and kept all the customers inside until they could be interviewed. He ventured a guess that Joe and Vanessa were probably still stuck inside the store, just waiting for their turn to be interviewed so they could leave.

It had taken several more minutes, but once he'd gotten Andrea significantly calmer they had agreed to meet at the supermarket. Being a former police officer and now a well respected private investigator afforded Fenton certain privileges. He rarely utilized them not wanting to take advantage, but tonight, as a professional courtesy, he would be granted and gratefully accept immediate access to his son and Vanessa.

'If they're still there…'

His heart stuck on the reporter's announcement that two people had been taken hostage. Two people who'd been stranded outside the store after the doors were locked as one of them had tried to help… A good Samaritan… How many times had Fenton heard those words to describe his sons? And tonight a good Samaritan had tried to intervene, to save a life, and had been shot and kidnapped for his efforts. He felt a twinge of guilt and shame as, for the first time in his life he hoped his son had not tried to 'do the right thing'.

Glancing to his right as he drove, Fenton saw his wife staring straight ahead, worry etched on her face. Her innocent comment about how difficult it must be to have a loved one hurt, kidnapped, on this most special night – Christmas Eve – went straight to his soul.

From the backseat he heard Frank repeatedly pressing buttons on his cell phone and knew without asking – he was trying Joe's and Vanessa's cell phones, over and over and over again….

oooOOOooo

Frank's hands shook ever so slightly as he tried to distract himself by repeatedly calling Joe and Vanessa. Eight times he'd tried, eight times he had been unsuccessful. As he pressed the numbers yet again, Frank told himself cell phone reception in the supermarket was abysmal at best, that's why they weren't answering. He tried to convince himself that's where they were – stuck inside the store with Joe pacing impatiently like a caged animal.

He managed a tiny smile, wondering what Joe was doing at that moment. Probably standing right at the doors, his nose pressed to the glass watching longingly as law enforcement officials processed the crime scene.

"The caller you are trying to reach is out of range…"

Frank muttered a curse under his breath and flipped the cell phone shut. He turned and stared out the window at the houses as they passed, each of them wrapped in brightly colored lights and Christmas decorations. Was it just last night that he, Callie, Joe and Vanessa had taken a leisurely driving tour of Bayport, 'ooh-ing' and 'aah-ing' at all the lights?

'Callie.'

His girlfriend had left early that morning with her parents to spend Christmas with her grandmother in upstate New York. They had made plans for Frank to drive up the day after Christmas and pick her up so they could spend some time together over winter break. Would he still be able to make that trip, he wondered as his thoughts drifted to Joe once more.

'Good Samaritan.' The words haunted Frank. There had probably been hundreds of people in the store tonight. And when shots were fired, exactly how many of them would have run towards the sound instead of away from it… 'Just one,' he thought miserably.

'He's fine,' Frank told himself. 'They're both fine.' He repeated it over and over to himself, wondering why the more he tried to convince himself they were safe, the larger the knot in his stomach grew.

oooOOOooo

Breathing a sigh of relief, Fenton turned into the supermarket parking lot and made a beeline for the flashing red and blue lights. Before he'd even turned off the engine, Frank had practically flown from the back seat and raced towards a group of uniformed police officers talking to another man in jeans and a leather jacket. As Fenton took Laura's arm and hurried towards them, he was relieved to see the dark haired man turn to Frank. Detective Con Riley, a close friend of the Hardys, was apparently in charge of the investigation.

Just then, Fenton saw Andrea Bender running towards them from the opposite direction. Stopped by two uniformed officers, she began shouting and gesturing first at the supermarket and then at the Hardys. At Con's signal, she was allowed access and came racing across the short distance. She and Laura embraced briefly and then walked side by side, their hands clasped together.

"Con," Fenton said as the three approached the circle of officers.

Con looked up and nodded, acknowledging Fenton, Laura and Andrea as Frank turned to his father. "They don't have a positive ID on the hostages yet," he said nervously. "But there's an older couple who got a good look. They were in the express lane right in front of the window." Frank pointed to an elderly man and woman sitting on a bench just outside the front door of the supermarket, isolated from the rest of the witnesses.

"Con," Fenton said, grasping his wife's hand tightly. "Have you been inside yet?"

"Yes," Con replied looking at Laura and Andrea sympathetically. Fenton knew the answer to his next question without even having to ask. "Joe and Vanessa aren't in there."

Frank suddenly bolted, seemingly for no apparent reason, leaving his parents staring after him in bewilderment. He reappeared several moments later looking pale and shaken. "Joe's car…." he swallowed hard. "It's still here."

Andrea let out a small cry, and tears sprang to her eyes. Feeling his wife start to shake beside him, Fenton literally passed her off to Frank as he reached for his wallet. Pulling out a picture of Frank, Joe, Callie and Vanessa he handed it to Con. "Can you show it to them?" he requested, nodding at the elderly couple. "At least then we'll know for sure."

Con took the picture and walked to the couple. Frank, Fenton, Laura and Andrea watched from a distance. The woman took the picture from Con and squinted at it. Suddenly her hand flew to her mouth as her husband pointed at the picture excitedly. The older man began talking to Con animatedly, hands flailing. At one point the man grabbed his right arm as if demonstrating something. Con took the picture back, nodding his thanks at the elderly couple and started back towards the Hardys, his face grave.

"They've got Joe and Vanessa," he said, handing the photo back to Fenton. Con waited a beat, eyeing Laura speculatively. He sighed inwardly; there was just no easy way to say it. "And Joe's been shot."