Chapter 23
itsmeocean@hotmail.com
Homecoming
Fenton Hardy sat down behind his massive desk, rubbing the spot between his eyebrows which seemed to be focal point for all his thoughts, anxiety and paranoia. In all his life, he had never encountered something as tedious as a serial kidnapper, or rather, serial killer, a term which sounded more fitting after Frank called and very calmly, as his elder son could always managed even in the roughest of storms, spoke to him about the deductions he came up with Joe.
Serial killers. Fenton had his share- three in fact- during the course of his illustrious career. He was actually planning to just take on simpler cases and then slowly retire. He was only fifty-five, but he felt like he had already done enough- it was time to enjoy a peaceful life with Laura and take life easy. After all, his boys were all grown up now. Even Joe, the eternal child, was already a father.
But Life is always twisting and turning into sharp bends to thwart even the most perfect plan. This case was about to usher him into his sunset years with a heart wrenching climax.
He sighed, thinking of his grand-daughter who loved to pester him endlessly about the things that she knew. She would follow him untiringly, her little feet pattering about behind his steady footsteps as her shrill, little voice announced to the whole world all that she had learned.
"Papa! Papa! Do you know that a lion has a lifespan of twelve to fourteen years?" Hallie tugged at his pants, emerging out from nowhere, as he sorted out the mails, gazing up at him with bright blue eyes screaming for attention.
"Nope, I don't think I do." He looked down at her and smiled affectionately, setting the mails aside as he bent down and scooped her chubby, little body in his arms which seemed huge to her. "Do you know that the largest animal to ever live on Earth is the Blue Whale?"
She pouted, not happy that he said something she didn't know. A thought glint in her eyes and very quickly, she was grinning mischievously again, "Do you know that Daddy poop smelly gas after he eats bananas?"
Fenton laughed heartily and Hallie eyes gleamed brighter, very proud of herself. "I don't believe I do!"
"And do you know that Daddy says I cannot tell Mommy, Daddy Greg and Grandma that he comes and see me?"
His brow knitted with concern as his voice dropped a note lower. "No, I don't believe I do."
"But I tell you only. So you cannot tell anyone too." Hallie raised up her tiny little finger and Fenton smiled at her distractedly as he wrapped his finger around hers. In actual fact, Hallie had everyone wrapped around her thumbs.
Very weary after a whole night of searching around town and then, almost camping in the police station praying for good news, he returned home only at one in the morning to Laura's tired eyes. They embraced each other for the longest time, fearing for the girls and afraid for their sons' emotional well-being.
But Frank gave him some hope just earlier on- in the early afternoon. He called with the most amazing deduction and lead, plus the most perturbing story on abortion. It was made even more unsettling because Fenton didn't agree with abortion. It was not because he was a Baptist, pro-life or taught that way. Or maybe it was all those and more. Something more. He could never explain it and he knew that his family members were not comfortable with the idea of abortion as well.
But he would never condone another pro-lifer resorting to man-killing violence. Pro-life is pro-life in any case. Keen sense too told him that this serial killer was committing all these crimes for something more heinous and personal. Life now, to him, was like a horror movie gone too terribly real.
The brothers were separated though- Joe had gone to Maine with a Fed guy and hadn't called them yet- most likely, he was still on his way. Philadelphia to Maine would take him at least five hours. Frank would be driving back and if he didn't make unnecessary stops, he might see the cliff overlooking the Atlantic Ocean at the outskirts of Bayport in later evening.
"So dad… dad… are you here?"
"Yes, son. I'm listening…"
"I need you to run over to Port City Community College to search for their yearbook- 1973. Professor Summers taught Sociology of Deviance in that college before. Maybe you can ask a nurse or someone who had worked… I don't know. You have more wiles than me dad. Please, find out who was the student Summers had an affair with."
He sighed heavily and stood up, moving over to his bookshelf and quickly thumbed through his collection shuffled up with some of Frank's worthy buys. He found the one he wanted and removed its jacket. As he left his house, there Vanessa was in the driveway next to his car, dressed in a loose T-shirt and baggy jeans with her hair tied up in a high ponytail. Without the immaculate dressing up, he thought he had stepped into a time warp and was now facing the same, spunky teenage girl who managed to tie his younger son's wandering eyes and hands down when so many other girls before her had failed, gritting teeth and gushing tears. He almost expected her to greet him cheerfully and lie that she was going up to Joe's room to do homework with him.
He had trusted his sons to know what they were doing. While he advocated that their room's door stay open or at least, ajar, he could not be around all the time to keep watch on them and he had to face it, when kids grow up, they were harder to control. Any parent could only hope the early education done with love, patience, firm, reasonable words and sometimes, a tough pair of cushioned palms which hurt them more than their children skin, was enough. Maybe he had failed somewhere but there was no time for regrets. The girl, no, woman, before him, with sunken cheeks and swollen eyes, told him that he had not stepped back in time after all.
"Fenton, I… I will like to accompany you if you're off to do some investigations. Con called last night and told me about Elle and Callie…"
A mother's guilt?
"I've been on cases with Joe before. I can handle myself."
Fenton smiled at her, he would actually be pretty proud to call her his daughter-in-law. It was a pity that he wouldn't have the chance to, after all. "Do you think this is an interview? I do not need your C.V."
"You mean you'll let me follow you?" Vanessa asked hopefully.
He shook his head; two girls' lives were already in jeopardy because of their association. Elle would know what she was in for- Callie was the one who barged in and got herself into a tangle but he had faith that she would pull through.
If anything happened to Vanessa, Joe would surely go mad. He could not allow that. "I'm sorry…"
"Please. I won't do anything dangerous. You may need my help." Vanessa urged, her unspoken pleas were almost too heart breaking to hear.
Fenton cleared his throat uneasily as he slotted his car key into the lock, knowing that the determination of stubborn mothers was too formidable for him to fight against. His skull would crack and he might even suffer a heart-attack.
But neither did he want her to follow.
"Fenton…" She grabbed his arm before he could climb in his car, still wanting the spoken approval which he, in good conscience, could not give.
"Why not you stay here with Laura? And wait…"
"No. I won't." She replied steadily with a resolution that would not waver under even the barrage of a million 'no's.
Fenton exhaled heavily with resignation, "Get into the car. And stay out of trouble. If I smell danger, be it a hundred thousand miles away, you are going back home."
Vanessa smiled and saluted him before she climbed into the passenger seat of his Volvo, "I was useful to the brothers before in their cases. You can set your mind at ease having me around. I can surprise you."
Fenton shook his head, wondering, a little flippantly, if there was some malfunction in the natural order of things such that women were no longer satisfied to be soft, powdered and pretty. And when trouble came, they were no longer willing to sit back at home and wait for their men to return with news.
At that thought, a self-mocking chuckle escaped his throat. Perhaps he was destined to be surrounded with women who ran counter society's stereotypes. His sister was one- strident old Gertrude who no one knew where she was. Another MIA who sent postcards back every so often.
Plus, he knew he didn't marry Laura because she was soft, powdered. He married her because she was as gentle as a lady, as independent as a woman, not to mention, the strongest and most beautiful person he had ever known.
He only hope he could come back to her with something that could light up the shadows on her face- the same shadows on all their faces.
***
She woke up, disorientated. Cereals again, phooey! She hadn't been able to walk for a few days now since she was tied and she was very thirsty. The ugly, evil man only let her drink two cups of water a day. And if mommy was with her now, mommy would be very angry- she hadn't bathe and she smelled funny.
Daddy wouldn't mind though. Daddy thought that kids were supposed to be dirty, loud and eaters of earthworms dug from gardens and playgrounds. Daddy would raise a brow if she ate ice-cream without smearing it all over her face- even he would smear it all over his chin.
She didn't know why the baddie would want to bring her to this horrible place. A few flying, buzzing insects… mosstoes, daddy called them, bit her and made her itchy all over. It was very hot and she was feeling so prickly all over. For the first time in her life, she actually wanted to bathe.
She missed her mommy and daddy very badly. The door opened. Big bad man stood there, he came to feed her and show her his ugly snake, Valerie, again.
***
Kathryn Jones walked around her small flat, blowing toxic circles from her cigarette into the air. Vanessa shuffled about uneasily on the springy couch in the living room, occasionally fanning herself with a real estate pamphlet, one of the many strewn on the cluttered crate masquerading as a coffee table. It was unbearably hot but Kathryn hadn't left even a tiny, table fan on.
Before they came to the grumpy woman's flat, they had made a trip down to Port City Community College. An aged Sociology professor there remembered Donald Summers- the quaint, unappeasable professor who wanted to do nothing but his own independent research. He tutored for two years- teaching Sociology modules to do with theories of deviance- and then suddenly quit. Fenton asked the professor if he knew of the circumstances in which Summers decided to leave or heard of any rumors of Summers having an affair with a student. The professor did better than remembered- he said the girl in question was a star student, a hardworking girl who participated in a lot of extra curricular activities as well. Even though she was in a community college, they were sure that she would never lose out to those from other more prestigious institutions. Summers had actually tried to get her to do a transfer to University of Pennsylvania, which was where he went after he quit. It was funny how he remembered all those things about her but had to struggle for a while with her name. Clara… he said. Then Karen. And then to Carol. Finally, he decided that her name was Clara Bettis. Checking with the school administration body yielded the name Catherine Bettis and a yellowed picture of a pretty, sweet girl with short hair and bangs from an archived college newsletter.
Fenton was about to melt like a Popsicle under the burning sun but he was far more in control of himself. The turnover rate in the clinic was high for the nurses and, actually, they gained nothing at all from the employees working there during the police's first call to the clinic. They learned about the letters sent to Peter Masters from Kathryn Jones. She was the only constant in the now dwindling clinic for over thirty-five years, recently self-retired.
Given the horrifying nature of the story that Frank told him, he doubted that Kathryn would forget, even if she tried. The wizened woman hadn't forgotten, she was merely reluctant to tell them.
He watched her patiently as she paced around the living room, holding on to her vapid poodle. It was also the first time Fenton ever saw a poodle who would rather hang its tongue out lamely than yelped deafeningly- maybe the heat, coupled with the nicotine- laced air around here had permanently brain-damaged the poor doggy. Fenton's lips stretched into a taut line- Joe, an avid dog lover, would definitely think of ways and means to "rescue" the "abused" pup.
"I'm sorry, can't help you," Kathryn finally answered them as her tiny frame slouched against the wall. She bounced the retarded puppy like it was a crying baby in one arm and drew the chewed cigarette away from her garishly red lips with yellow-stained fingers, "Can't remember a thing."
"Kat, please… how can you not remember something like this?"
Kathryn scowled at him, shaking her head vehemently but her gray curls stayed stiffly in place. "No."
Vanessa looked at Kat with imploring, brave eyes, "Please, Kat. I'm Hallie's mother and two beautiful women were kidnapped because they tried to save Hallie. One of them is my best friend. I have much to lose here and you can help me out. Kat…"
"This kind of stories, once told, bring bad luck."
Fenton breathed in deeply- Kathryn was a superstitious woman so set in mythical beliefs that when there were none, she would make up new ones for herself. Kathryn placed the cigarette back in her mouth and glanced around furtively. "Some nurses quit because they accepted Christ and suddenly heard babies crying in the night. Others quit because they swore they saw ghosts. I just kept doing my job, knowing it pays me rather well and I'm left alone… Never saw nor heard these things because I'm careful, you see. Kept my mouth shut…Sorry, both of you Christians? Didn't mean to blaspheme."
"Kathryn…" Vanessa walked slowly over to her and placed a hand on her bony shoulder, "If there's any bad luck, let it come to me."
"Now you said it! Don't keep saying things like that... never know who's around to listen." Kathryn chided her, clucking her tongue in disapproval. "She your only daughter?"
"Yes." Vanessa sounded like she about to cry but she breathed in deeply, mustering up her own courage.
The old woman rolled her eyes before letting out a defeated sigh. "You said it. Bad luck goes to you."
"I promise."
Fenton wanted scream at the ridiculous logic but he kept his mouth shut- some people would find rationality in the most unreasonable reasoning.
Kathryn nodded, "Ok. I remember. Twenty eight years ago, a couple. One middle-age man and a young lady. The young lady was crying- her stomach was so big but the middle-age man gave Peter a lot of money. He's a writer or something. So they did it. The fetus was dead when it came out but the other nurse claimed it was alive later, scaring the shit out of Peter who was a little shaken by the whole thing. We left the fetus on a side table to wrap it up and suddenly, the lights went off and there's a lot of noise, clamoring… it was real creepy. When it came back on, the fetus' gone. And then, it returned in someone else's body to take revenge on Peter."
"Someone else's body?" Fenton Hardy looked at her quizzically but she simply shrugged.
"Why ask me? I ain't no doctor or scientist! The fetus gone! Just like that!"
"If I were to ask you if there's anyone who might have taken the fetus, who do you think it would be?"
She twisted her lips in annoyance, giving Fenton a deadpanned look. "Who do you think I am? A seer?"
"C'mon, Kat…" Fenton voice grew low and weary, "Help me out here. Hallie's my grand-daughter."
"I know. How many times must you play to my sympathies? Considering where I work in, I ain't no time for tears!"
"Kat… I'm begging you…" Vanessa took her free hand and gestured around the place. "I'll clean up your house, feed your lovable dog…"
"Clean up my house? Maybe get me a new sofa, coffee table… kitchen stove and I'll love a nice, new fan... the ceiling kind… in every room." Kathryn looked at her shrewdly. Fenton rolled his eyes. She was going to milk Vanessa for all it was worth.
"Yes… anything you want." Vanessa nodded vigorously. "Anything."
Kathryn smiled mirthlessly, "All right. I remember that night- there was a girl with hair as golden as the young lady's loitering outside the clinic. They looked alike… I don't know. It was very dark already and the area outside the clinic was never well-lit. Could be her. I had a hunch. She was gone after the mayhem started."
"One more question, Kat…" Fenton pulled out the most unflattering picture (because it looked exactly like its owner) of Donald Summers found on the inside of the book jacket he lifted and the picture of Catherine Betties. He struggled up and walked over to Kat. She threw him a disparaging look as he presented her with both the pictures.
"Is this the middle-aged man and the girl who came into the clinic for that third trimester abortion?"
Kathryn looked as if she had seen ghosts when she finally glimpsed the photos. She snatched the jacket and the picture, studying them with a horrified expression. Glaring at Fenton Hardy fiercely, she hissed, "If you know so much already, why ask me?"
"So the pictures' theirs?"
"Yes! Thank you very much, now go!" She shooed them out of her flat, especially Vanessa. In a cackling voice, she spoke to the younger woman tersely, blocking the entrance to her flat with her skinny frame.
"The bad luck's on you now! Take it and leave me alone."
Kathryn slammed the door shut in their faces.
Fenton draped his arm across Vanessa's quivering shoulders- if she hadn't believed Kathryn before, she might be a little affected now.
"C'mon, sweetheart. She's talking rubbish, you know that."
Vanessa looked up at him bravely, "As long as the bad luck's on me and not Hallie, I don't really care."
