"Get it?" Dobson asked Darryl when he had returned.
Darryl grinned and slipped tha backpack from his shoulder. He handed the photos to Dobson. ''I'll take care of these,'' Dobson told Darryl. ''You go and organize Joe's room before he wakes up.''
Darryl took the backpack upstairs and tossed the items about the place. Lastly, he laid a comic book and a car magazine on the nightstand by the bed.
Joe opened his eyes and saw Darryl stading there. ''Hi Kid,'' Darryl said, smiling down at Joe. ''Feeling any better?''
''I feel fine,'' Joe replied, sitting up slowly and putting the weight on his arms from the elbow down. ''Except for the construction in my head.''
''Just lay back and relax Joe,'' Darryl told him, gently pushing Joe back until his head was once again resting on the pillow.
''Joe?'' Joe asked with a puzzeled expression.
''Yeah,'' Darryl said, trying to contain the smile that was aching to burst forth.
Joe's eyes started darting around the room as he sat up again, his heartbeat erratic. ''Why can't I remember who I am?'' he asked, looking up at Darryl with anxious blue eyes. ''I don't even remember you.''
''Take it easy,'' Darryl said with a bit of a force. ''It will come back to you,'' he promised. ''I'm your father's brother, Darryl,'' he continued in a soothing voice. ''I and your mother's brother, Billy, moved in with you and your father when your mom died.''
''How did she die?'' Joe asked, his eyes saddening suddenly.
''She was killed by Fenton Hardy,'' came Dobson's voice from the doorway.
''How?'' Joe asked quietly.
Dobson came into the room and sat down on the bed beside Joe. He took Joe's left hand in his and pushed Joe's hair from his eyes with his free hand. ''Your mother and I were out celebrating our anniversary a little over a year ago,'' he began.
''Mom?'' Joe asked.
''Stacey,'' Dobson informed Joe. ''She had gone to the ladies' room. While she was gone, two men tried to rob the restaurant. Fenton Hardy was there with his wife and son, Frank. He didn't care who got hurt as long as he stopped the robbers.
''As the robbers were leaving, Hardy pulled out his gun and told them to freeze. They got off a round a piece. But when Fenton fired, your mother came out of the bathroom and right into the line of fire. He opened up and she took the bullet.''
Dobson broke off, seemingly unable to continue.
Joe squeezed Dobson's hand. ''Dad, don't....''
Dobson gave Joe a strained look. ''You need to know,'' he said a bit harshly. ''She died a little later that night at the hospital. Hardy didn't even have the decency to come around. All he cared about were those two robbers. He got them, but it cost your mother her life.''
''Maybe he didn't mean....'' Joe started, but was interrupted again.
"They had what they wanted and they were leaving. If Hardy hadn't wanted the glory for capturing them, your mother would be with us today.''
Tears rolled down Joe's cheeks as he thought about his mother dying. Joe sat up and wrapped his arms around Dobson's neck.
Dobson hugged Joe. ''It's okay, Son,'' Dobson said softly, comforting Joe. ''Let it out, it's okay.''
Joe's body began to shake. He grieved for the mother he knew he must have loved even though he couldn't remember her. When his sobs subsided, Dobson laid Joe back onto the bed. He cried himself to sleep.
''Phase two,'' Dobson whispered as he and Darryl left the room and closed the door behind them.
''It's lucky the owners of this place have a teenage son his size,'' Darryl said, going down the stairs. ''Otherwise we would have to get him clothes too.''
''When is Billy coming back?'' Dobson asked as they reached the living room.
''As soon as I pick him up,'' Darryl replied. ''He's going to ditch the car in Southport.''
''So go and get him,'' Dobson ordered. ''Everyone's got to be here for a family breakfast.''
****************************************************************
Frank followed his dad's car, taking the exit to Southport. He followed, trying to get close enough to see the driver, but just as he got close enough, the car would round a corner and the opportunity would be gone.
Frank rounded the corner expecting to see his father's car but saw nothing. He stepped on the gas, speeding up a little, his eyes searching. Nothing. Frank stopped the van and slammed his hand on the steering wheel in frustration. He took a deep, calming breath and started to circle the area. A couple of turns later and he couldn't believe his luck. There, parked between two buildings in an alley, was his father's car.
Frank pulled to a stop in front of the alley. The car, though still running, looked empty. Frank opened the van's door and got out. Before he could do react, his father's car came smashing into the passenger side of the van, pushing Frank as it went.
The thief jumped out of the car and ran away under cover of the night. Frank lay on the cold pavement, unmoving.
Darryl grinned and slipped tha backpack from his shoulder. He handed the photos to Dobson. ''I'll take care of these,'' Dobson told Darryl. ''You go and organize Joe's room before he wakes up.''
Darryl took the backpack upstairs and tossed the items about the place. Lastly, he laid a comic book and a car magazine on the nightstand by the bed.
Joe opened his eyes and saw Darryl stading there. ''Hi Kid,'' Darryl said, smiling down at Joe. ''Feeling any better?''
''I feel fine,'' Joe replied, sitting up slowly and putting the weight on his arms from the elbow down. ''Except for the construction in my head.''
''Just lay back and relax Joe,'' Darryl told him, gently pushing Joe back until his head was once again resting on the pillow.
''Joe?'' Joe asked with a puzzeled expression.
''Yeah,'' Darryl said, trying to contain the smile that was aching to burst forth.
Joe's eyes started darting around the room as he sat up again, his heartbeat erratic. ''Why can't I remember who I am?'' he asked, looking up at Darryl with anxious blue eyes. ''I don't even remember you.''
''Take it easy,'' Darryl said with a bit of a force. ''It will come back to you,'' he promised. ''I'm your father's brother, Darryl,'' he continued in a soothing voice. ''I and your mother's brother, Billy, moved in with you and your father when your mom died.''
''How did she die?'' Joe asked, his eyes saddening suddenly.
''She was killed by Fenton Hardy,'' came Dobson's voice from the doorway.
''How?'' Joe asked quietly.
Dobson came into the room and sat down on the bed beside Joe. He took Joe's left hand in his and pushed Joe's hair from his eyes with his free hand. ''Your mother and I were out celebrating our anniversary a little over a year ago,'' he began.
''Mom?'' Joe asked.
''Stacey,'' Dobson informed Joe. ''She had gone to the ladies' room. While she was gone, two men tried to rob the restaurant. Fenton Hardy was there with his wife and son, Frank. He didn't care who got hurt as long as he stopped the robbers.
''As the robbers were leaving, Hardy pulled out his gun and told them to freeze. They got off a round a piece. But when Fenton fired, your mother came out of the bathroom and right into the line of fire. He opened up and she took the bullet.''
Dobson broke off, seemingly unable to continue.
Joe squeezed Dobson's hand. ''Dad, don't....''
Dobson gave Joe a strained look. ''You need to know,'' he said a bit harshly. ''She died a little later that night at the hospital. Hardy didn't even have the decency to come around. All he cared about were those two robbers. He got them, but it cost your mother her life.''
''Maybe he didn't mean....'' Joe started, but was interrupted again.
"They had what they wanted and they were leaving. If Hardy hadn't wanted the glory for capturing them, your mother would be with us today.''
Tears rolled down Joe's cheeks as he thought about his mother dying. Joe sat up and wrapped his arms around Dobson's neck.
Dobson hugged Joe. ''It's okay, Son,'' Dobson said softly, comforting Joe. ''Let it out, it's okay.''
Joe's body began to shake. He grieved for the mother he knew he must have loved even though he couldn't remember her. When his sobs subsided, Dobson laid Joe back onto the bed. He cried himself to sleep.
''Phase two,'' Dobson whispered as he and Darryl left the room and closed the door behind them.
''It's lucky the owners of this place have a teenage son his size,'' Darryl said, going down the stairs. ''Otherwise we would have to get him clothes too.''
''When is Billy coming back?'' Dobson asked as they reached the living room.
''As soon as I pick him up,'' Darryl replied. ''He's going to ditch the car in Southport.''
''So go and get him,'' Dobson ordered. ''Everyone's got to be here for a family breakfast.''
****************************************************************
Frank followed his dad's car, taking the exit to Southport. He followed, trying to get close enough to see the driver, but just as he got close enough, the car would round a corner and the opportunity would be gone.
Frank rounded the corner expecting to see his father's car but saw nothing. He stepped on the gas, speeding up a little, his eyes searching. Nothing. Frank stopped the van and slammed his hand on the steering wheel in frustration. He took a deep, calming breath and started to circle the area. A couple of turns later and he couldn't believe his luck. There, parked between two buildings in an alley, was his father's car.
Frank pulled to a stop in front of the alley. The car, though still running, looked empty. Frank opened the van's door and got out. Before he could do react, his father's car came smashing into the passenger side of the van, pushing Frank as it went.
The thief jumped out of the car and ran away under cover of the night. Frank lay on the cold pavement, unmoving.