Plot Summary - Joe runs into Chet, Iola's brother, at a church grief meeting. They haven't seen each other since Iola's funeral years ago. Frank drives Chet to pick up his father. They get Mr. Morton out of a bad situation at a bar. Frank realizes Mr. Morton is an alcoholic. Joe loses his memory.
Frank - In the Parking lot of the Stumbling Inn
Chet hits the gas pedal. The car fishtails out of the parking lot.
"Nobody is tailing us," Chet says, about a mile later.
He pulls the car into an abandoned car wash.
I hit the inside passenger door handle with my hand. The door pops open. I fall out onto the cracked, dirty cement floor.
"Thanks," I say.
Silence.
"I stuck around cuz of your dad," Chet says, as he gets in the passenger seat.
"Dad?"
"The checks he mailed us kept the bank from foreclosing on our farm," Chet says.
"My dad sends checks?"
My phone rings.
"Hardy."
"Joe is having a nightmare. I can't wake him up," Biker says.
"Iola!" Joe screams. "I can save her!"
I hear the sound of breaking glass.
"What's going on?" I ask.
"Your brother is asleep and destroying my house!" Biker shouts.
Chet steps on the gas pedal.
I close my eyes.
Keep Joe safe or protect his privacy?
Forgive me, Joe.
"He has night terrors. You can't wake him up. Just keep him from hurting himself."
"Frank, let me go! I can save her!" Joe screams.
I hear a loud crash.
"Not working!" Biker shouts.
"I usually hold his arms down and talk to him."
"Usually? How often does this happen?" Biker asks.
I didn't mean to let that slip.
"Let me talk to him," I say.
"Have to save Iola," Joe mutters.
"Joe, Iisten to my voice. This is just a dream," I say.
"Gotta save her, tell her 'I'm sorry,'" Joe mumbles.
"Biker, give me your location."
"Blue, two-story house, across from the church," Biker says.
Chet pulls in front of the house. I open the door and run up the front porch stairs.
Joe is covered in sweat. He sits on the floor with blood running down his arm. His eyes are closed.
I shove Biker out of the way.
"Hey, it's time to leave," I say and put my hand on Joe's shoulder.
"Gotta get Iola! My fault!" Joe screams and shrugs off my hand.
This isn't working. I can't talk him back.
God, if You exist, give me the words to get Joe back.
"Joe, I'm in trouble."
"Frank?"
Joe's voice reminds me of a scared child.
"Joe, I need your help. Can you follow my voice?" I ask.
"I can't see you."
I put my hand on Joe's shoulder.
"I'll lead you out."
"Frank? I'm scared. I want to leave, but I can't. I never got to tell her I was sorry," Joe whispers.
"It's ok. We'll figure it out tomorrow. When I squeeze your shoulder, you open your eyes, ok?"
"..kay," Joe says.
I squeeze Joe's shoulder.
One blue eye opens.
"What happened?" Joe asks.
"You got a black eye," Biker says, with a guilty look.
I put my hand on Joe's shoulder.
He shrugs it off.
"Who are you?" Joe asks.
He stares at me blankly.
God, please help me get my brother back.
Joe - With No Memory
Where am I?
I get to my feet and put my back against the wall so nobody can sneak up behind me. Blood drips off my arm.
What happened?
"Who are you?" I ask.
A man with brown eyes stares at me. His mouth hangs open. He wears an expensive looking business suit, but it is torn and bloody. He smells like cheap beer. He has a black eye.
None of this inspires confidence.
A rough-looking guy in a black leather jacket stares at me.
Whatever is going on - these guys look too stunned to do anything. I have to protect myself.
I grab the guy in the suit. My arm snakes around his neck. He doesn't put a fight.
Why isn't this guy fighting me?
Frank
Joe's arm tightens around my neck.
"Who are you?" Joe screams.
"Undercover cops. We work together," I say.
"Why don't I remember you?"
"Our suspect spiked your drink."
"Prove it."
"You have a scar on your right palm," I say.
"Smart. I can't check without taking my arm off your neck."
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Biker edging closer.
I shake my head once.
I don't want Joe hurt in a physical takedown.
I force my voice to remain calm.
"You fell out of a tree and landed on a nail. We were building a treehouse," I say. "You were six."
He stares at the scar on his palm like he has never seen it before.
"I don't remember."
"You will as soon as the drug wears off," I say, and catch Joe as he slumps forward.
I really hope I am right.
"S-sorry," Joe says, as his eyes close.
"What just happened?" Biker asks.
"Nothing happened," I say, with a hard edge to my voice. "This never happened."
"You can't just ignore it!" Biker shouts.
"I'm not. I'll handle it. Privately."
I'm grateful the dark night hides us as I carry Joe over my shoulder to my car.
"You can buy my silence," Biker says.
My opinion of Biker has just rock bottom.
"How much?" I growl.
"Nothing. Just keep me in the loop. He was ok until I punched him."
Biker feels guilty.
"You didn't do this," I say, as I click a seatbelt around Joe.
"He was fine until I punched him," Biker says.
"No. Joe hasn't been fine since Iola died. Seeing her brother at the church tonight - that's what caused the amnesia."
Biker looks like he wants to believe me.
"Trust me. If I thought you were responsible for this, I'd let you know."
Biker nods once.
I don't have the time or energy to say more.
I need a quiet place with great security. Phil's penthouse won't work. Joe hates being stuck there. He needs to relax. This time we need nature.
"Siri, call Biff."
"Hooper Construction," Biff says.
"Is it ready?"
"Almost."
"Alarm system operational?",
"Yeah. Why do you sound like you want to kill somebody?"
"Long day. ETA is ten minutes."
I always worried someone would kill Joe on my watch. Did seeing Chet cause Joe to lose his memory forever? Ironic. I let Iola die on my watch, but I didn't mean to. What if Chet just did the same thing to Joe? Can you accidentally destroy someone?
Feels like Chet is stuck in hell - watching his dad slowly drink himself to death. Iola's death destroyed Chet's dad. I worry the same thing will happen to Joe.
I feel guilty. I abandoned Chet when he needed me the most. But Joe needed me too. I've worked so hard to convince Joe he did not kill Iola...that Iola would want him to be happy. I am terrified Chet just destroyed the safety net I've spent the last ten years of my life building for my brother.
I empty my mind as the beach house comes into view.
How do you secure a beach house without making it look like a prison? Carefully.
Most beach houses are by the street so they have the most beach space possible. Not ours.
I pull up to the aluminium gate in decorative script. I hit a button in my car and the gate slides back. No one knows I cashed in my retirement to build this house. It was the only way I could afford the security it needed.
I still have nightmares about Joe and I almost dying here. Never again will I be caught unprepared. A two-story garage houses Joe's Mustang. I placed the garage so it connects by a covered walkway to the house. A large sand dune on our property hides the garage and cottage from the view of the public beach.
I pull my BMW into the garage. I toss Joe over my shoulder and walk down the covered walkway. This is the closest I have felt to relaxed in days. I just have to get my brother back.
"Hey, what do you think?" Biff asks, as he opens the front door.
I look at the large windows, open floor plan and comfortable furniture.
It looks like home. Relaxed and comfortable.
"It's good," I say.
"First time I've installed bulletproof windows. I can't believe how much they cost."
"I can."
"I can't believe you found bulletproof windows that open like regular windows."
"Figured it was the only way I could sneak them by Joe. Did you finish the special project?"
"Yeah. I've never made a secret room before," Biff says.
"You did a great job. This bedroom wall looks like it's made out of stone, not concrete," I say.
Biff hits the top of the wall. A door opens in the middle of the concrete "stones."
A secret room containing a bed, phone and desk is revealed.
"Why did you want the concrete to look like stone?" Biff asks.
"If someone attacks us and has an infrared camera, the concrete will hide Joe's heat signature," I say, as I put Joe on the hidden bed.
"Makes sense. I kept this off the floor plans I filed with the zoning office. I didn't hire a crew. Figured if I worked on the house alone, no one would stumble across the secret room."
"Thanks."
"No problem. I have to finish putting handles on the kitchen cupboards."
I make sure the security system is on before I head to the bathroom for a hot shower. The smell of cheap beer is giving me a headache. I need to keep busy until I find out if my brother is back or if he is gone forever.
Joe
My eye throbs. I try to ignore the pain, but it forces me awake.
I look around. I'm in a small room with a bed, desk and phone.
The sound of waves crashing into the beach calms me.
One of the walls has an opening. I walk through it. How did I get in a secret room? And why did somebody leave it open?
"Joe?"
I turn around.
Some guy I've never seen before stares at me.
"Who are you?" I ask. "Where am I?"
His brown eyes look sad.
"Incoming," someone shouts.
An orange kitten runs into the room. Like an orange tornado, he jumps on the couch, then the table, then a shelf high on the wall.
Something falls off the shelf headed right toward me.
The guy with the brown eyes pushes me out of the way.
We end up in a heap on the floor.
"You ok?" Frank asks.
"Yeah. What did Tang break?"
Frank's mouth falls open.
"A three thousand dollar computer router," Phil says.
"It's ok. I have a spare," Frank says.
"I'll pay you back," I say.
"Forget it. I should have secured it to the shelf better."
"Phil, how did you get here?" Frank asks.
"I let him in while you were in the shower. He said it was an emergency," Biff says.
"It was an emergency. My building just passed a no cat rule," Phil says.
Everyone looks at Tang.
"What did he do?" I ask.
"Tang rode one of Mrs. Astor's doberman security dogs through the lobby," Phil says.
"Dude," I say and look at Tang. "You make me look good."
I put Tang on the floor. Bats walks over and cuffs Tang's ear with his paw.
"Hey, what was that for?" I ask.
"If I were Bats, that would be for riding a doberman," Frank says. "Phil, how did you know we were here?"
"Biker called me."
FRANK
I stare at Joe. My brother is back. He didn't recognize me until Tang's path of destruction.
Maybe the trick is keeping things stable. No more running into Chet. No more changes.
I put my hand on Joe's shoulder.
A horn beeps.
"Someone is at the gate in a black car," Phil says, as he looks at the TV monitor.
"We have a gate?" Joe asks.
I press a button on the wall.
"Who are you?" I ask through the intercom.
Dad pokes his head out of the driver side window.
Joe and I stare at each other. We haven't seen Dad in months.
I open the gate.
"Did you know Dad was around?" Joe asks.
"No."
The doorbell rings.
"Hi, Mr. Hardy," Biff says, as he opens the door.
"The house looks good," Dad says.
"Dad, I never expected...the house...it's..." Joe says.
Joe is speechless.
"Don't look at me," Dad says. "I had to leave town. Your brother gets the credit for this."
Joe looks at me.
"Thanks."
I nod.
"I'm opening an office in Bayport," Dad says. "Both of you are working for me."
"I'm kinda out of commission," Joe says. He shows Dad his walking cast.
"You can do desk work," Dad says. "I'd like to mentor both of you. Your last case was a bit sloppy."
"We caught the guy," Joe says.
"You destroyed Main Street and Frank's house," Dad says.
"It's being rebuilt," I say.
"You had sloppy cases," Joe said.
"Really?" Dad says. "I bet you can't name one."
Silence.
"The one that killed Iola," Joe says, he walks through the open glass door and onto the deck. He slams the door behind him.
I need to check on Joe, but I have to get Dad out of here.
"Let me walk you to your car," I say, and open the front door.
The chill between me and Dad is apparent as we walk in silence to his car.
"Things are going on, you don't know about," I say.
"I'm listening," Dad says.
"Maybe instead of working for you, we could just be your sons. It's hard to get to know you, when you are always working on a case somewhere."
"Frank, I have people looking for me. Dangerous people who want revenge. You guys are sitting ducks."
"Joe and I can handle ourselves."
"Your last case doesn't show that."
I take a deep breath. I try to push my emotions down. Shame. Anger. Disgust.
Dad climbs in his car and slams the door.
"You need to take responsibility for the damage you caused," Dad says.
"So you think we should send Chet money, like you do?"
Dad's mouth drops open.
"I helped Chet drag his dad out of a bar yesterday, that's how I got a black eye."
"Mr. Morton was drunk?"
"No. Chet's dad is an alcoholic."
"What?"
Dad's mouth hangs open. He slams the car door and speeds out of the driveway.
A deep feeling of shame hits me. I know Dad feels guilty about Iola's death. If I wasn't so tired and worried about Joe, maybe I would have kept my mouth shut.
I guess everything he said hit a bit too close to home. Are Joe and I sitting ducks? Have we taken responsibility for the damage we caused? Why doesn't catching the bad guy count for anything anymore?
Joe on the deck
I don't want to work for Dad. Right now I am wiped out. Physically, my leg is a mess. I start physical therapy tomorrow where I'll actually get exercises.
Emotionally, I'm tired of hearing everyone say how bad we did on our last case. I know it didn't go smooth. I was trapped in Frank's condo, inhaling smoke, trying to avoid the flames.
I feel bad the guy blew up Bayport. I even feel bad Fox Run, Frank's housing community, got damaged.
But the thing that haunts me is - am I up to this kind of work?
If Dad and Frank had been working together I know things would have gone smoother.
Dad and Frank think alike. I am the outsider.
I hit the KLOVE app on my phone. I look at the stars shining in the night sky. I sink into a chair and imagine Iola sitting next to me.
"They say you're only as good as your last success, and failure's not an option
Maybe that's why I'm exhausted
Held so tight to their applause that
When it stopped, I thought that Yours would too
'Til You said that my heart to You is worth everything, ooh". (*Somebody to You, Rachael Lampa)
Who am I without a case to work? I don't know. It's easier to solve other people's problems, than to work on my own. Ever since Iola died, I feel like I've been running away from myself. Staying busy keeps me from remembering all I lost...keeps me from drowning in guilt.
"Don't gotta be somebody when I'm already somebody to You (somebody to You)
Got nothing to prove anymore, so there's nothing to lose anymore
You're gonna keep on loving me for more than just the things that I do (things that I do)
I'll sing it 'till there's no doubt, nobody can count me out
'Cause I'm already somebody to You, ooh"
I'm already somebody to You, ooh"
Could God really like me? After all the mistakes I made? I got Iola killed.
I wish I didn't feel like the weakest link in the family. I grew up in Dad's shadow. He was always catching a bad guy somewhere far away. I grew up in Frank's shadow too. It's hard being the younger brother of a genius. If Frank was the youngest, maybe people wouldn't expect me to be him. I look at the stars.
"There's so many stars in Your sky
But I'm never lost in Your eyes
I'm still the one You see, and You see (I know You see)
A promise that can't be broken
The one You've already chosen
As I'm learning to believe, yeah (I'm learning to believe)"
God, I'm trying to believe. Please help me. I'm scared. I'm trying to believe You love me, that You made me well, but why can't I be as smart as Frank? Why did the last case blow up? Why is my leg messed up? Please help me give all this stuff to You.
"Joe?" Frank asks from behind me.
Frank stares at me.
I'm at a loss for words. I never expected to get the beach cottage back.
Frank looks worried.
"Joe?" Frank asks again.
I grab him in a hug.
I feel Frank relax.
"How?" I ask.
"Dad's idea. He wanted to rebuild."
"Feels like I have a piece of Iola back."
"Glad you like your new home."
"Our new home. You let me live with you, I'm returning the favor. Of course, there are rules."
"You have rules?'
"No leaving out your scary health food. That brown, wrinkly thing traumatized me."
"It was an avocado."
"It still gives me nightmares."
MOVE TO NEXT CHAP
Start of Chap 36
Joe - Prito's Pizzeria
"You know, I can stay by myself," I say, as Frank pulls his black BMW in front of the pizzeria.
Frank doesn't say anything.
"You have been a thousand miles away all morning. What's wrong?"
"A friend is in trouble."
"Anybody I know?"
"No. You never met him."
"Are you going to see him?"
"No. I can help him best from here."
"Anything I can do to help?"
"I'll let you know."
"So where are you going?"
"I need to settle some house stuff. Paperwork. Figured you would rather be here."
I don't have the words to explain what having the beach cottage again means to me.
"The house is ...I never expected..."
We are in front of Prito's pizzeria when Frank hugs me. I feel his body shake. Something bad is happening.
He slaps my back and lets go.
I need to keep a close eye on Frank.
"You know you can tell me anything, right?"
Frank nods, then he pushes open the door to Prito's Pizzeria.
The smell of warm pizza and pepperoni hits me. My stomach growls.
"Hey," Tony says, as he gets a batch of pizza bread out of the oven.
My stomach growls again.
"We need a pizza bread," Frank said.
"Sure," Tony says.
No customers yet, so it's just us and Tony.
Tony slices the pizza bread. I grab a piece. The mozzarella cheese and pepperoni and bread slide down my throat. This stuff is the best. I'm so busy eating I'm not paying attention to what's going on. When I look up, the pizza loaf is gone. I ate the whole thing.
"Sorry," I mutter.
"Glad you like it," Tony says, with a big smile.
"We forgot to grab breakfast," Frank says, and puts twenty dollars on the counter.
"Did you want any?" I ask.
"No, I'll pick up breakfast on my way to the bank," Frank says.
"Gonna eat a green seaweed muffin for breakfast?" I ask.
"Gotta go," Frank says. "Pick you up when I'm done."
"Wanna fold some pizza boxes?" Tony asks.
"Sure."
"What's wrong with Frank?"
"He says a friend is in trouble. Hey, do you have any aspirin?" I ask, and rub my knee above the walking cast.
"Sure. It's upstairs."
The phone rings.
"Prito's Pizzeria," Tony answers. "You wanna large pepperoni, cheese and mushroom pizza and a large order of hot wings."
While Tony takes the order, I open the door in the kitchen that leads upstairs. I step on stair with my good foot, then bring up the bad foot on the same step. This must be what it feels like to be old. CHECK THIS
I sit at the top of the stairs and catch my breath. How can I protect Frank with this stupid walking boot? I use the railing to stand up and slowly walk past Tony's sleeping bag that's spread on the floor. Next to it is an unplugged space heater. How cold does it get up here?
How can Tony live up here? Tony's clothes are folded in cardboard boxes.
The bottle of aspirin is by Tony's clothes. I concentrate on putting the heel of my walking boot on the floor first and then rolling it up to my toe when I walk.
I grab the bottle, take two aspirin and sit down on the floor. I close my eyes and take slow breaths until the pain stops.
"Mom, what are you doing here?" Tony says. "I'm getting ready for the lunch crowd."
His voice floats up from a vent in the kitchen ceiling.
"You still haven't repainted the pizzeria? I thought you were gonna replace the old plastic tablecloths?" Mrs. Prito says.
"Good to see you too, Mom," Tony says.
The Prito family temper is a lot like the Hardy family temper. If I can get downstairs maybe I can defuse things, but when I try to stand my leg cramps up.
"Newberrys was bought out by a conglomerate," Mrs. Prito says.
"You retired five years ago," Tony says. "Why do you care?"
"I lost my pension and health care," Mrs. Prito says.
Silence.
Tony's dad didn't make enough at the pizzeria for a pension or health care. This is bad. Tony doesn't have much, but the Prito's have their pride. That's why Tony's parents don't know he goes to the Bayport Community Clinic or that he can't afford to pay them.
"I can't pick up your dad's high blood pressure medication. It costs 289 a month without insurance."
"Mom, I can't."
"I can't believe I raised such a selfish man! If your father has a stroke - it's your fault!"
Frank - Dr. Welch's Office
"Thanks for seeing me," I say.
"You said it was an emergency?" She asks.
"Last night Joe lost his memory. He didn't know who he was. He didn't recognize me."
"What happened before he lost his memory?"
"Joe ran into Iola's brother - Chet - at a grief support group."
"Emotional trauma. How long did the amnesia last?"
"Twenty minutes. Will it happen again?"
"I don't know."