J.M.J.
Author's note: Thanks for reading! Special thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter: Candylou, ErinJordan, BMSH, max2013, MargaretA66, t4swp, FanHB08, and Cherylann Rivers!
Chapter VIII
Bayport
The Hardys were on the road first thing in the morning. Fenton had left Mitch Johnson in New York to deal with anything that came up there on the case while he was gone, although Fenton didn't expect to be away longer than overnight. Laura still wasn't particularly favorable about going to stay in Bayport, but she accepted the situation as she realized it was for the best for Frank and Joe. Only Gertrude seemed to actually be content with the solution to the problem.
It was mid-morning when they reached Bayport. The highway was following along the coast, and the town was tucked back on the shores of Barmet Bay, a horseshoe-shaped inlet. Most Bayporters agreed that the view of the town from the north was more impressive, but to someone who had never been there before and was approaching from the south, that view did not disappoint. The morning light was reflecting off the waters of the bay, which was still in sight as the Hardys entered the town. It was a small town, but certainly not lifeless. There were people walking up and down the sidewalks and chatting at street corners. The businesses were small and locally owned, for the most part, and very well-kept up, and many of the houses were old and impressive. There was even, on the hill overlooking the town so that it was visible from almost any given spot in Bayport, a mansion with two towers, giving it the impression of a castle.
"What an adorable town!" Laura said, looking around her as they drove. Just the sight of the small town and its distance from the city and its problems lightened her heart more than it had been for the last several days.
"Staying here won't be so bad," Gertrude added, nodding in satisfaction.
Fenton smiled a little to himself. Already Bayport was reminding him very much of his hometown of Northrop. A part of him almost wished he was staying here, too – at least, he would want to stay here if there was no mystery to solve back in New York. Maybe, after this case was cleared up…But there would be time enough to think about that later.
Tom Radley had given good directions to his house, and Fenton was able to drive straight there. The doorbell was opened by a young man of about twenty or twenty-one.
"Hi," he said, looking the group on his doorstep over quickly. "Can I help you?"
"Is this Tom Radley's house?" Fenton countered.
"Yes," the young man replied. "Lieutenant Hardy?"
Fenton nodded. "This is my wife, Laura, my sister, Gertrude, and my sons, Frank and Joe."
"We've been expecting you." The young man stepped back to let the family enter. "My name's Sam. This is my dad, Tom." He gestured to an older man, who was standing in the living room which the door opened into.
Tom and Sam shook hands with each of the adult Hardys. "It's good to meet you. Sorry it can't be under better circumstances. You ladies probably want to go ahead and get settled in at your hotel. I've booked you a suite at the Westland. It's a nice place. My son, Sam, will help me in making sure no one bothers you."
"Do you have much experience in this kind of work, Sam?" Fenton asked.
"Some," Sam replied. "Ever since I graduated high school, Dad's been letting me help him with his cases. I'm going to join him full-time once I finish college."
That was satisfactory, and so the group headed to the Westland Hotel. The Radleys had booked the room directly across the hall from the Hardys' room for themselves, and one or the other of them would stay there at all times. They would also accompany the women any time they left the hotel.
As for the suite itself, it was much more spacious than the room in the New York hotel had been, and while it didn't quite escape the stiff appearance of a hotel room, it still managed to be homier than most. Better still, the two queen-sized beds were each in a separate alcove in the room, which would give the two women a little bit of privacy in their cramped quarters, or at least as much privacy as one can have when sharing a room with two toddlers. Both Laura and Gertrude approved of the accommodations.
"It's much nicer than I was expecting," Laura said. "It's not too expensive, is it?"
Tom grinned. "Ordinarily, it would be out of my price range, for sure, but my brother-in-law owns this place. He gives me a good deal if he's not booked up anyway."
The Radleys went across the hall then and left the Hardys to get settled in. It wasn't easy for Fenton to leave his family there, but there was no choice. At least, this time, it would only be for a few hours, as Fenton intended to come back to the hotel to stay the night when he had finished talking to Giovanni Beretta in Boston.
After Fenton had left, Laura went to the window and looked out. The suite was on the second floor, and since the hotel was on a corner, she could see quite a ways down the street. It was sunny and far too nice a day to spend indoors.
"Let's go and look around for a while," she suggested.
"Really, Laura," Gertrude protested. "There are mobsters after you and you want to go traipsing around a strange town?"
Laura gave an almost annoyed sigh. "I don't think there are any mobsters lurking around in a place like this. Besides, we have our two bodyguards. We'll be perfectly safe. I at least want to stretch my legs a little."
Without giving Gertrude the opportunity to protest any further, Laura went across the hall and knocked on the Radleys' door. She asked the men if they would accompany them on a walk around town, and the men agreed without any qualms.
Frank and Joe were also excited about going out, although Joe wasn't too pleased when Laura insisted that he hold her hand the entire time. It was such a relief to be out and about that even Frank tried to run off once or twice. Fortunately, Tom was more than willing to chase after him if he wandered too far ahead, and even managed to keep his attention by telling him some clearly exaggerated accounts of his sleuthing adventures.
"Are you sure you want to be a detective after you graduate?" Gertrude asked Sam as they walked along. "It's a very dangerous profession. I don't see why Fenton ever took it up."
Sam couldn't help grinning, although he tried to sound sympathetic as he said, "Yeah. Definitely dangerous. Your brother must be pretty good at what he does, though."
"He's one of the best detectives in this country," Gertrude declared proudly, but then she quickly added, "But that's not the point. The point is that he has a family to take care of and how's he going to do that, risking his life on a daily basis?"
"I guess there's just some things worth risking your life for," Sam replied.
Gertrude shook her head. "Maybe, but I say let the single people handle it. You're not planning on getting married, are you?"
Sam reddened a little. "Well, actually, I'm engaged."
"How wonderful!" Laura broke in. "What's her name?"
"Ethel. I know, her parents are pretty old-fashioned. We're waiting until we both graduate from college next year to get married. We're going to stay here in Bayport, though, and I'm going to work with my dad, like I said. Ethel is studying nursing and she's hoping to get a job at the hospital here in town."
Tom put an arm around his son's shoulders. "I have two older children than Sam, a son and a daughter. They both moved away just as soon as they graduated from college, one to Orlando and the other to San Diego. It'll be nice to have one kid stick around. Bayport's a good place to live and raise a family."
"I'm sure it is," Laura commented thoughtfully.
"Dad," Sam protested, "you know all of that is still a couple of years down the road, right?"
They were walking through a residential district as they talked. It was a well-kept, neat neighborhood, and several people stopped to say hello to the Radleys as they walked. Even the driver of one of the passing cars honked his horn and waved to the detective and his son.
They were at the corner of High and Elm Streets when one house in particular caught Laura's eye. It was an old-fashioned, two-story house with ivy growing on the porch and trees shading the yard. It was on a bigger lot, and there was a barn standing next to it. No doubt, the barn had once been used to store hay and chickens, but it had now been refitted with a garage door so that it could store two cars. A "for sale" sign stood right out in front of it.
"Oh!" Laura involuntarily stopped to look at it.
Tom stopped as well. "Nice place, isn't it? An older couple have been living there, but they decided they don't like the New England winters. They're moving down to Florida. It's a shame, really. They've been in the community for years and raised five kids in that house. They don't want a lot of money for the house, but they're being kind of picky about who they sell it to. It must be hard, thinking about someone else living in their home, someone that it would just be a house to."
"I don't know," Laura replied, gazing almost wistfully at the house. "I think a place like that could feel like home pretty fast."
HBHBHBHBHB
It was still before noon when Fenton parked his car in front of Our Lady of Good Counsel Seminary. It looked like a mix of a monastery and a university with its cluster of tall, old, impressive buildings around a central lawn which had statues connected by various walkways. A sign pointed the way to the main office, and Fenton headed in that direction.
The rector of the seminary, a priest a little way past middle age named Monsignor Willis, was expecting him to arrive around this time and was waiting for him in the office along with a young man who was clearly of Italian descent. Monsignor Willis stepped forward to shake Fenton's hand as soon as he entered and introduced himself and the young man, Giovanni "John" Beretta.
"I'm glad to meet you both," Fenton said politely. "I'm sorry about the circumstances." He watched Giovanni closely as he said this. The young man was in about his mid-twenties and he was already dressed in clerics. From his downcast attitude, it was clear that he was deeply troubled by his brother's situation.
Monsignor Willis glanced at Giovanni before he said, "It's a terrible thing. I don't suppose there could be any doubt?"
Fenton shook his head. "Of course, it's still possible that your brother and sister-in-law might have left of their own accord, Mr. Beretta. Their children may have simply misunderstood what was happening. It's not much comfort, though, because it would mean then that they abandoned three young children."
"No," Giovanni said. "They didn't leave on their own. They wouldn't have abandoned their children. Whatever else they were and did, they wouldn't have done that."
"Are you sure?" Fenton asked. "I understand it's been a while since you've spoken to them."
Giovanni sighed. "Yeah. More than three years. Honestly, I've never met Isabella. I didn't even know whether they were having a girl or a boy. All that aside, some things don't change. Nico thought, in his twisted way, that he was doing what he was doing for his kids. That was the driving force behind it; that his kids wouldn't have to grow up poor like we did. They would have never abandoned them."
Fenton allowed himself a slight frown. "So you knew that your brother was involved with the mobs?"
Giovanni looked down at his hands before he looked up again and said definitely, "No. I didn't know that. I knew he was mixed up in something illegal, but I didn't know it was that serious."
Fenton watched him thoughtfully. "If you knew about this, why didn't you do anything about it?"
Giovanni sighed. "I tried. I tried everything I could think of: reasoning with him, begging him, pleading with him, threatening him, praying, obviously. I don't know what more I could have done."
"You could have come to the police," Fenton pointed out.
"Yeah," Giovanni admitted, "but I didn't have anything solid enough for that. Besides, would have you, Lieutenant?"
Fenton wasn't sure how he would answer that question. After taking a moment to think about it, he said, "Well, that's beside the point, anyway. The point is that you're the closest relative we can find, and provisions must be made for those kids. Are there any other relatives that you know of?"
"No," Giovanni said. "Not in this country, anyway. Our parents died several years ago and we didn't have any other close relatives. And then Mattea was born in Italy and came here on her own, so all of her family still lives over there."
"In that case, you would be the children's guardian," Fenton concluded, "which I'm sure poses a bit of a problem for you."
"Yeah," Giovanni agreed. "Still, the most important thing is taking care of my nephews and niece. Sergeant Johnson told me on the phone that they're in a foster home for now?"
"That's right," Fenton told him. "They're with good people. They're being well taken care of."
"Good," Giovanni said. He glanced at Monsignor Willis before going on. "I'm dropping out of the seminary for this semester, at least, or however long it takes to find out what happened to Nico and Mattea. Permanently, if the worst has happened. I'm still going to need a little bit of time to get a job and find a place to live. There wouldn't be any problem if I found a place here in Boston or, well, anywhere besides New York, would there?"
"No. For that matter, it would probably be better to get those kids out of the city."
"That's what I was thinking," Giovanni said. "Will they be okay with this family until I'm ready for them?"
"Yes, that will be fine," Fenton assured him.
"Good. I do want to go to New York right away and visit them. Are they doing all right? This must be really hard on them."
"I don't know, actually," Fenton admitted. "I haven't seen them myself since Sunday."
They talked for a while longer, until Fenton was satisfied that Giovanni was taking his sudden role as guardian seriously and in stride and that he didn't have any idea who, specifically, his brother had been working with in his illegal dealings.
HBHBHBHBHB
When Fenton returned to Bayport that night, he was met at the door of the hotel suite by Joe running toward him with his arms open, shouting, "Daddy!" Frank wasn't far behind his little brother in giving his dad a huge hug. Laura greeted him with a hug and a kiss.
"It's about time you got back," Gertrude told him. "I was beginning to think those mobsters must have followed you to Boston."
"Not a chance," Fenton assured her. He smiled a bit, knowing that this was the closest Gertrude would come to admitting that she was glad he was back.
"How did it go?" Laura asked.
"Okay," Fenton said. "At least the kids will be taken care of. Giovanni wasn't able to shed any light on what might have happened to his brother and sister-in-law, though."
Laura had other questions, but she glanced at the boys and decided this wasn't the best time just now. That was just as well, because right then, Joe tugged on Fenton's pant-leg and said, "Watch me," before toddling over to one of the plush armchairs in the room.
Fenton scooped him up just as he was trying to climb up into it. "Hold on, there, buddy. You're not thinking about jumping off of there, are you?"
Joe gave him a mischievous smile that clearly meant "yes".
Fortunately, Fenton was able to distract him from his designs by giving him a bouncy piggyback ride which had him squealing with laughter until Gertrude admonished Fenton that everyone else in the hotel would be complaining. It was too late, though, because then Frank wanted a piggyback ride as well.
Laura couldn't help but smile at the roughhousing. It was nice to see her husband playing with their sons. She suddenly felt it keenly just how little time Fenton's work left him for his family. She found herself wistfully thinking over a plan that had been forming in her mind all afternoon.
It wasn't until much later, after the boys and Gertrude had all fallen asleep and Fenton and Laura had curled up on the suite's loveseat that she got a chance to mention it to him.
"Fenton, I know you're tired and maybe this isn't the best time to talk to you about this," she began.
"Uh oh. This sounds serious," Fenton teased.
"It is," Laura assured him. "I know you've been wanting to move for a while. At first, I wasn't so sure, but now after everything that's happened…"
"This isn't how it's always going to be," Fenton told her. "We'll have this case cleared up soon."
"But there will be another one after it. And then another and another." Fenton opened his mouth to say something, so Laura quickly added, "That's okay. I know you're not happy when there's no mystery to solve, and I want you to be happy, even if it does mean a little worrying for me. I wasn't trying to complain about it. What I'm trying to say is that I think you're right. I think we should move. As a matter of fact, I think we should move here."
Fenton chuckled. "You like it that much?"
"I do. We went for a walk today, and somehow it just felt like home. In fact, I saw a house that's for sale. You should see it. I've never really put much thought into a dream house before, but if I had, I think this would be it."
"You must be serious if you're already house-hunting." Fenton grinned.
"It was just an accident that I noticed," Laura admitted. "I don't even know how much the people are asking. It might be way out of our price range. But still, I think we should move, and I think from everything I've seen – which, granted, isn't much – Bayport would be a good place. What do you think?"
"I definitely want to do something different from what we're doing, and a town like this would definitely be safer than New York, but there are some things we need to think about. With my experience, I'm sure there wouldn't be any difficulty in being by the police force here, but it would be a major cut in pay."
"We have some money saved up that we could use for the house, and we wouldn't have to pay rent anymore," Laura pointed out. "Then, too, I could get a job."
"I don't know," Fenton said. "Putting two kids in daycare would probably just about be a wash unless you could find a better job than I would expect to be available in a place like this. Besides, I know how much being home with the boys means to you."
"We would both have to make some sacrifices," Laura agreed, "but I'm willing to do what it takes to make it work." She paused for a few moments. "There is one other possibility," she said finally. "We'd have to think about it and learn more about it, but what if you did what Tom and Sam are doing?"
"You mean, be a private detective?" Fenton asked. "I never really thought of that. I don't know. That might be an even bigger cut in income than switching to a smaller police department. I'd basically have to start my own business."
"I could help with that," Laura said, growing more excited at the prospect. "You could work from home and save the expense of an office. I could do the bookkeeping and answer the phone and all that part of it, which would save you the cost of office help. Even though we would both have to be working hard, at least be working together, and I kind of like the idea of that."
"You know, so do I. Let's do our homework and see just how plausible this idea is."
With that decision made, it would have been nice to just relax and enjoy the moment and try to forget that neither one of them really knew how long it would be until they could hold each other like this again, but that was not to be. The cell phone, which Fenton had set on the stand next to the loveseat began to ring. He groaned, not wanting to answer it, but he recalled Christine Roche's admonition to answer it whenever it rang.
"Sorry," he told Laura as he reached for it. "Lieutenant Hardy speaking."
"Hardy, this is Agent Roche," Christine's voice came over the phone. "I've got something big. Gregorio showed up in Rockport today. I tailed him and recorded him making a deal with another man to bomb one of Alessandro's businesses. It's a front, but some people really do work there. I would have moved in and arrested, but my back-up wasn't there yet. Before it could get there, Gregorio got word of it all, somehow. He's skipped town and is headed back to New York. I need you to set up roadblocks coming into town. All we need to do is catch him at this point, and we'll be able to nail him."
"He'll have to go through Boston and head down the coast, won't he?" Fenton asked.
"Most likely. That's the fastest route."
"I'll call Johnson and have him set up the roadblocks in New York, just in case Gregorio goes a different way," Fenton told her. "I'm in a little town called Bayport myself. If he goes down the coast, it's on the way. I'll see if I can get the police here to set up roadblocks."