'How many times? he wonders as he stares at the paper. How many times have I looked at the paper and seen the photo of someone I recognize on the front page? And how many times has that photo, and the article tied to it, been related to my work as a detective? Or my sons' work? And how many times do I know, without even reading the headline, that that person is dead?'
Fenton Hardy remembered when Iola Morton died. How torn up Joe had been. The way he carried those keys around, a morbid souvenir that helped him to cope. He had hoped never to have to endure that again. The loves of his sons' lives weren't supposed to die until they were older. Hopefully so much older that he and Laura were long gone.
And here he was again, watching a son suffer through one of the worst hells there is on earth.
Frank's reaction was far more frightening than Joe's. He had withdrawn inside himself, so deep that the only thing that had roused him from his grief had been the moment he had seen Nancy's murderer face-to-face after the man's capture and arrest. And that had resulted in an anger that frightened those around him, for Frank seemed to want nothing more than to slowly, painfully, murder the man before him. Had he not been restrained by Fenton, Joe, and Carson Drew as well as a local police officer, Fenton had no doubt his son would be awaiting bail.
Now they were seated in the Drew's living room. Several saddened people in one room, including Frank, who seemed to be not there at all. He had grown thinner in the four days since Nancy's death, having not eaten a thing. If he didn't eat something soon, the doctor had warned Fenton, Frank would be in the hospital.
"If he stops drinking water, bring him back to us immediately. Otherwise, come back if he hasn't eaten in a week."
"A week?"
"He can go that long without really eating much before we need worry. And I would advise getting him counseling straight away."
Looking at Frank now, Fenton almost wondered if Frank was intentionally starving himself, rather than having simply forgotten any hunger in his grief. 'And they weren't even together….were they?'
He had asked Joe this question numerous times when Frank broke up with Callie, and he'd learned of Nancy and Ned's falling out. After all, he had noticed the special relationship between them. But if anything had been going on, not even their families knew.
Now he and the others would have to wonder forever. Frank would keep everything locked up, and Nancy was no longer around to tell them.
