Jacob Kenzer inhaled deeply and expelled with too much strength such that his chest hurt and stars shot across space to assault his sight. He could not believe that the blond young man seated on the couch at right-angle to his was the ‘Adonis’ Vanessa gushed about incessantly when he met up with her on the few, rare occasions. Since Andrea’s move into Bayport with Vanessa after Jack’s tragic dismiss, Jacob hardly had the chance to see Vanessa.

The blond young man was definitely not a hunk- if he was one before, his muscles must have atrophied. Gaunt, pale and jittery, he exuded none of the confidence that Vanessa swore had passed on to her and helped her regained much of her zest for life.

His lower lip was dented from being bitten into too many times during the entire hour and a half Jacob was listening to the brothers, mainly Frank Hardy, recount their progress in the search for the elusive killer- which did not sound too promising since it was obvious the brothers were distracted and unprofessional.

There were too many pregnant pauses in between the reiteration and being the experienced detective, Jacob knew that much of the aftermath of Vanessa’s death was kept hidden from him. The brown-haired man kept stealing glances that spoke volumes at his shaking brother but Jacob did not have the key to decipher the secret, silent language between the two brothers.

Ness. I miss you. Do you blame me for missing your funeral? Your mother told me after it happened. I rushed straight here. One year later, I’m back again to seek justice for you.

Is it too late, Ness? My sweet, precious Ness.

Absent-mindedly, he took a pack of cigarettes from his breast pocket and was about to shake a minted stick out when Frank Hardy cleared his throat. Even before the intelligent youngster could voice out a quiet objection, Jacob slotted the packet back into his pocket.

"Thank you. My mom hates the smell of cigarettes. She’ll think it’s one of us." Frank explained coolly with a mild look of distaste on his bland expression. Jacob had no idea what he had done to earn the young man’s ire but he thought it had something to do with his efforts in shaking the rug to let fall the dirt and grime from the past. Yes, at some intermittence, Frank Hardy could grow as silent as his melancholic brother but his stare was too intense such that Jacob was rather unnerved. But Jacob was well-trained. His discomfort was not to be found on his outward appearance.

"You’re already twenty-one and you’re still bothered by what your parents’ think?" Jacob said snidely and shook his head when he saw Frank bristle. Joe, on the other hand, had already taken a trip to Mars.

"The answer is yes. I’m bothered by their feelings because I care for them. Besides, I’d hate to be maligned for something I didn’t do." Frank smiled without mirth and Jacob caught the implications of Frank’s carefully chosen words.

I’m not letting your brother off the hook yet. You have every right to be protective of him, especially from me.

"I’m not an adversary. I want to know the truth as much as you both do. And believe me, I’m working on your side, if your side is for justice and the truth." Jacob bored his gaze deep into Frank’s eyes, which darkened into an enigmatic shade of black. Feeling like he was staring into twin black holes that were vacuuming in his whole being so the brains behind could dissect him up, Jacob tore his gaze away rather painfully.

There was a tense silence but after a while, Jacob regained eye-contact with Frank Hardy and noticed that Frank’s eyes had returned to their normal, dark brown shade that belied the genius within. Brown eyes hooded over with remembrance and it was only then that Jacob noticed the dark eye circles betraying the tiredness of the hardened young soul.

"Of course. I understand. I apologize for my hostility but I have my reasons. We love your daughter dearly. She was a great friend to many…" Frank’s voice lowered towards the end and his lips curled with sadness lingering at the edges. There was a lack of challenge in his look and he did not show any triumph over Jacob’s slight dropping of jaw. The detective then knew that Frank had let slip his own deductions and did not mean to present what he had spoken in a manner to cause shock or to stoke his own ego in his astuteness.

It was then when the blond young man laid a gloved hand that only revealed the fingertips on his brother’s forearm while avoiding Jacob’s eyes. Frank patted his brother’s hand and threw a quick glance over his shoulder at a matt silver framed clock hanging innocuously on the wall behind, announcing six p.m.

"I’m sorry Mr. Kenzer. But Joe and I have got some important matters to attend to. We’ll talk again if needed." Frank stood up to emphasize his request as Joe seemed to just disappear into the couch. Jacob stood up as well, knowing that there was nothing he could do to get the brothers to unzip their lips a little further.

"I’ll call on you again. This is my number," he presented Frank with his name card to which Frank, despite his grievances, accepted graciously by studying it cursorily for a moment before slotting it into his breast pocket. However, Frank had not offered his own mobile number.

Frank held the door open for him and just right before he stepped out of the house, a soft raspy voice called out to him.

"I’m sorry, Jacob. I’m sorry about Ness."

He turned around and saw Joe shuffling his feet on the floor, staring at his own toes. Nodding his head briefly in acknowledgement though he knew Joe would was not looking at him, he suddenly resented the young man. Such hostility, caused by the pain of tragic loss, would creep up upon him just when he thought he could be magnanimous and forgive but he knew his anger at the young man who was looking more and more like a helpless boy sprung from his own hatred at himself.

For how can he blame Joe for Vanessa’s death? If it was suicide, the ultimate mandate laid with her, not him. At that moment, that split second, naked understanding dawned upon him.

He could not forgive himself for not being the father he should be. Vanessa loved him and accepted him. But she never really had him as her dad.

Jacob bit his own lips lightly in self-remorse and left the Tudor. He was vaguely aware of Frank Hardy following him, shutting the door behind them.

"I couldn’t say this inside but," The young man exhaled heavily and his lids fluttered as he stared up at the sky- the thoughtful face of a man constructing his sentences before he spoke. "It’s not Joe. My brother is deeply affected and your accusing eyes don’t help at all. You don’t even know him, how can you judge him? Even if you do, nothing gives you the right."

Jacob knew this reproach would come. He knew that although he avowed to be professional, when it came to one’s off-spring, it was personal with a vengeance. The glare in his eyes mirroring the anger he felt towards her tottering boyfriend was evident throughout and he knew it. He knew it and he fed it with more anger, unable to control himself.

Yet, he did not feel guilty. Maybe in time, he might, but not today. So far, the Hardys had not convinced him; had not shown him proof of Joe’s innocence in anything.

"I only want to get to the bottom of this matter. Who I suspect is my business. If your brother is innocent, my investigations can hardly hurt him."

"Can hardly hurt him? Are you blind? He’s been acquitted, damn it! Damn you!" Frank Hardy swore at him, unfathomable brown eyes deepened into twin black holes consuming him with an anger of their own. Anger at failure to protect his brother from those vindictive stares. Clenching and unclenching his fists, Frank’s breathing calmed down and his eyes returned to normal. Jacob waited for the tirade to end.

"I’m sorry. I wish I could say I understand your grief but I can’t. I can sympathize and Vanessa was a close friend of mine. But I believe in my brother’s innocence. If by your investigations you hurt him in any manner, I’ll never let you off. Don’t you dare push him over the edge. He’s suffering for a blame that’s not his to bear and he’s suffered through too much." Frank declared quietly, never breaking off eye-contact. Jacob, not intimidated but impressed by the loyalty shown, simply shrugged and made his way to his battered Lancer parked outside the Tudor’s gates.

Who knows if his loyalty is misplaced?

After the Lancer rolled away from their street, Frank went back inside and closed the door gently behind him, knowing the encounter with Jacob must have thrown Joe’s recovery back many steps and this, irrationally paranoid that any loud sounds might just caused Joe to snap again. It was the Wednesday after Maggie’s concert last Saturday and Joe had made only slight progress but at least he was taking his medication without much fuss. However, whether he was taking his medication or not, he would need to attended regular counseling sessions for a long time to come.

Frank stopped in mid-stride for a moment as he observed his brother from a distance. Joe had sunk into the couch, as if he was willing himself to be one with the black leather. With folded arms pressing against his concave stomach, Joe shivered lightly and his troubled look heaped more worries upon Frank. In a way, he felt like a fool. He had seen Jacob’s accusing gazes thrown with malice from time to time at Joe but he had not stood up to chase Jacob away. He only hoped that Joe would not let such a prejudiced man pull him back into the pits of depression again. Noting the familiar frailness that was so alien to the Joe he knew and grew up with, Frank’s heart went out to him but he stopped himself from being too affectionate, knowing Joe would appreciate quiet comfort.

He made his way to the sofa and swiped his head to one side. "It’s time. Let’s go." He prompted Joe gently. Joe tore his gaze away from a random spot on the marble tiles and tilted his head towards Frank, wearing a blank, baffled expression on his face.

"Go where?"

"The appointment- the place you asked me to accompany you to." Frank smiled softly but his heart sank to his guts.

Damn you Jacob Kenzer! I don’t care if you’re Ness’ real father, jerk!

"Oh… that…" Joe gave him a sheepish grin and scratched the back of his head. "Sorriez… geez… my brains must have taken a holiday."

"But I’m glad to see they’re back where they are now. Nothing oozing out so all screws are in place. C’mon. Grab your jacket. It’s cold outside." Frank helped Joe up and Joe limped a few baby steps, grimacing as he did so, almost falling over.

"Ouch… pins and needles."

"Shake it out…"

"Can’t! It’s more terrible that way…"

"But it heals immediately. Just shake it out."

Joe gave him a dubious look and he encouraged him by nodding towards the affected leg which was not difficult to make out, given Joe’s reluctance to move it- hopping in all directions while holding on to Frank’s shoulder for support just so he could keep it immobilized. Frank almost laughed at the childish antics until he saw Joe’s face scrounged up with determination as he took in a deep breath and gave the leg a huge shake.

"Ow.. ow… ow… hey! You’re right! It’s gone!" Joe beamed and his blue eyes sparkled with some happiness. "Took me twenty years to learn this trick."

"You will learn many more tricks as you grow. Come, we’re late." Frank put an arm around Joe and steered his brother towards the door.

Throughout the drive, Frank was just following directions from Joe who took him down the alleyways and shortcuts in the west side of Bayport- an area that he was not too familiar with, having found not much excuses to visit the seedier sections. However, when he traveled down the littered streets flanked by broken street lamps and aimless people loitering around drum rolls with nowhere to go, he felt a sense of regret for all them, deeply sympathizing their plight. Teenagers with hair more colorful than the rainbow gathered in clusters to stare suspiciously at strangers wandering into their territory. Peering into dark corners would reveal the homeless draped in blankets riddled with holes and slipshod patches. The dustbins were overflowing with garbage and a layer of dust veiled everything, even the air. Frank’s heart was pierced with the arrow which was dipped into the river where mankind’s tears of injustice flowed.

Such a difference to be born in the wrong side of town.

A nagging alarm rang when he realized that Joe must have been quite a frequent visitor to know all the alternate routes when the main streets were closed for some pathetic road work which was not enough to cure the malaise. Cosmetic surgery never could remedy the sickness of the soul and the soul at this side of the town was rancid with despair. Frank could remember the last time he stepped inside there, almost a year and a half ago, for some case. It was now worse than he recalled since the cancer had spread to a wider area and with more intensity.

What could Joe be doing down here? Getting drunk in those sleazy pubs with their neon signs feebly clamoring for attention?

"Here… nice change of scenery, huh?" Joe kidded half-heartedly and jostled Frank from his wandering thoughts. His brother had led them into the tamer part of the west but it was still a decrepit side compared to the vigor of downtown Bayport. Pulling up beside a curb, Frank unbelted himself but Joe remained still.

"Craig grew up here so he brought us around all the time. You can get very cheap computer parts at some shop down that street. I was going to tell you but I forgot. However, it’s very dangerous at night here, a risk not worth the pennies you’ll save shopping. Sometimes, there are very bad gang fights… oh well, we read about them all the time in the news so it’s nothing too shocking though it’s pretty sad, don’t you think? Wayne’s best friend died in some petty vengeance thingy. They were just walking on the streets looking at nothing in particular when a car of his friend’s rival gang members drove past. A gunshot and down his friend goes into the nice long tunnel. They were only sixteen, I think." Joe narrated and his eyes glazed over with burning passion to which Frank smiled wanly and ruffled his hair. The greasiness was gone. It was as soft and silky to the touch as before. Frank was always jealous about the texture of Joe’s hair, wishing, since young, he had been the one blessed with hair the color of distilled sunlight and glowing with the sheen of the stars.

Everything seemed normal. Good. Maybe I worried for nothing.

"You must be surprised at Jacob’s visit. Well, at least you deduced his real identity. Do you know why Jack, the man Ness thought was her real father until she was fifteen years old, chose to end his life? It seemed that Andrea and Jacob were high school sweethearts and had an affair when she was married to Jack Bender. Ness didn’t go into details but she spoke of Jack’s perpetual depression which was worse when he suddenly became paranoid and suspicious of everything and everyone. He always felt like he never had Andrea’s love and had never measured up to her expectations. Ness was kinda like his salvation- they were very close. Imagine Jack’s shock when he chanced across one of the letters Jacob sent to Andrea. They had a huge fight and Jack became extremely difficult to live with after that. Andrea wanted a divorce but Jack would only agree to it if he had custody of Ness. That was when Andrea dropped the bombshell- that Ness was Jacob’s. The shock to both Ness and Jack was enormous. Jack shot himself the night after. The divorce never materialized. After a year, when Ness recovered from her own deep depression over Jack’s death, she went out on her own to find Jacob and acknowledged him. But it took a long time before she could let go of the guilt for she kept thinking that it was she who killed Jack because she was not his biological daughter. The guilt was why she attempted suicide ten times when she was fourteen. Andrea never spoke to Jacob again after Jack’s death. The guilt was overwhelming for her. And so ends this little story."

Frank sucked in a deep breath. He never knew about that. There was definitely more to everyone than meets the eye. Joe patted his brother’s shoulder and nodded almost wisely.

"We all have our crosses to bear. That’s where we are going to." Joe pointed to a row of shop houses to their left and Frank saw that it was a functionally designed clinic that Joe narrowed his aim at. Fear gripped him and he grabbed his brother’s hand hard.

"Joe, are you sick? We can go to our family doctor and he can get you a referral if needed…" Frank cast a worried glance at Joe who pursed his lips and knitted his brows. After a momentary silence, Joe shook his head.

"Yup. Family doctor. Then everyone will know before I’m ready to tell them. Trust me on this one, Frank. I know what I’m doing." Joe raised a hand to stop Frank’s further protests. Without waiting for Frank, he unbelted and climbed out of the Mustang, making his way across the road to the clinic’s entrance. Frank watched his brother’s diminishing figure for a moment, his heart twisting with frustration and resignation all at once. Deciding it was useless to pursue the matter since Joe had literally walked away; Frank went after his brother who, upon his arrival at the clinic, was already at the nurse’s counter taking a number.

***

What can be wrong with him? It’s definitely not a simple cold… damn you, Joe! Damn your stupid mind telling you to hide things from me!

Frank paced up and down the clinic- the screechy sounds of rubber soles against smooth tiles earned him the ire of two patients, an old man and a girl about fifteen years old with too much make-up and too little clothes. The nurse, a woman with one of the sharpest noses Frank had ever seen shushed him up countless times but he couldn’t help being restless. Joe was inside for quite sometime and with each tick of the cheap alarm clock on the counter, Frank’s paranoia increased in intensity.

He heard the sounds of a door opening at last and froze in mid-stride. Joe walked out and stopped by the entrance, holding on to a slip of folded, computerized paper. The only time Frank received those letters from a doctor was when he went for some blood or urine test and his deductions palpitated his heart with such ferocity that it was ready to explode from worry.

Clutching the piece of paper very tightly, Joe shrugged and gave Frank a very hesitant smile. He made no attempt at movement and was suddenly caught in a spell-like trance as he giddily held on to the wall for support. His red eyes told Frank too much bad news and the trance was broken when his lips quivered. Frank, stunned for a moment, collected himself, knowing it was pertinent that he be strong, and rushed over to his brother’s side. Leading Joe gently out by the shoulders, he gestured at the nurse to wait a while for the payment. Until he had his shaking brother seated safely in the Mustang, he hurried to the counter to settle the bill.