Buckteeth’s Motel. Jacob Kenzer was staying at one of Bayport’s friendliest bed and breakfast’s, owned by a man called Albert who was either cursed or blessed with his buckteeth. Weary of wearing braces, Albert decided to turn his trademark buckteeth and friendliness into subtle advertising for the inn his father left behind. It was doing well- the whole town knew of Albert and his excellent service. An endearing nature plus an unforgettable look, earned him more regular customers. They became the best form of advertisement for him, spreading the word that ‘It’s definitely more worth it to stay in Buckteeth’s Motel rather than Bayport Meridian even for the rich,’ around.

Naturally, his motel was the first place Fenton asked to see if Jacob Kenzer was putting up at and Albert, being his longtime friend, was very forthcoming with information. He said the cop from New Orleans kept asking people about the serial killing that had plagued Bayport until Frank and Joe helped the FBI crack it. Fenton was not around then and he had tried to rush back when trouble hit Bayport but duty called and he knew his sons were just as good, if not, better than him. Together, they had a combined IQ that was off the charts.

Albert too said the cop seemed to scowl a little when he was nothing but full of praises for Joe. Then Albert asked about Joe and Fenton said his younger son was fine.

Albert grunted over the phone. “Fine? Saw him once a few months back in some morbid pub playing some freaking morbid song."

“And what were you doing in that morbid pub listening to the freaking morbid song my morbid son was playing?”

“Dragging my own daughter’s ass out of the morbid place! You know I ran into some Satanic cults in my misguided youth... but now I’m a God-fearing man. I’m afraid for her sometimes you know, with that no good boyfriend of hers. You should take your son out of there too.”

The motel was not one of those sleazy kinds. In fact, it was extremely family-friendly. The well-maintained playground in a sprawling backyard was never lonely for the company of little children. It was clean, cozily furnished and Buckteeth’s Motel served a mean dish of mashed potato. The secret was in the sauce and Albert swore he never used those instant potato mixes.

The room’s door was answered after the third knock. Jacob Kenzer stood in the entrance all dressed up in a seedy brown suit and with a cigarette dangling from the side of his lips. Fenton was not on familiar terms with NOPD though he hoped that his history as a member of the NYPD would cause Kenzer to find some kindred spirit in him.

“Fenton Hardy.” Jacob Kenzer drawled, recognizing who he was before he made the proper introduction. “I’ve done homework, not to mention your fine, eldest son looks a hell of lot like you.”

Fenton smiled as amiably as he could. “And you must be Vanessa’s father. I’d like to talk to you about circumstances surrounding her death and I hope you’ll give me your time.”

Kenzer narrowed his eyes at Fenton but soon, he broke into a smile, though mirthless, it was nevertheless still a show of openness albeit the cynicism at the side of his lips. “I will. There are many things I want to ask you too. You drink beer?”

“I do.”

“Then let’s talk at the pub.”

The two men made their way to the pub downstairs and Fenton quietly observed his suspect. Jacob Kenzer was a man with confidence and a devil-may-care attitude. Yet, his brown eyes were overcast with blatant grief. Looking at him, Fenton felt sorrow and empathy. Often, when he thought of Joe, he imagined the same look would be in his eyes.

How long was it since he last spoke properly to Joe? He could not remember. He wished he could and he wished earnestly he would soon have another chance to banter with his younger son who always had the most irreverent and funniest things to say about everything. He was not lying when he said Joe would always be his sunshine boy. Joe added a more than a few laugh lines on his face since he was born- laugh lines that were slowly fading away and only his younger son’s jokes could draw them in again.

Vanessa’s really gone for Kenzer. But I have another stab at it. I will not lose my precious boy to madness. Will not. He will laugh again and we will laugh along with him.

They took a seat at the end of the counter and Kenzer ordered a can of Foster while Fenton asked for Carlsberg. The bartender fulfilled their orders and went to attend to a few others who were already in the pub so early in the afternoon.

“You’re going to tell me your son had nothing to do with her death.” Kenzer spoke first. Fenton poured out the smooth, golden drink into his frozen mug and took a swig.

“He did not. He went to jail for it though, do you know that?”

“Yes. If he did it, he should stay in there until Armageddon.” Kenzer replied bitterly. “I’m not as lucky as you. You have three kids. I had only one and Andrea wouldn’t let me near her. I missed out on her baby years, her childhood and her early adolescence. I missed out on the golden moments but she was such a lovely girl. When she knew about my existence, she went down all the way to New Orleans to look for me. Jack, her mother’s husband, committed suicide. She loved him a lot but she was willing to accept me into her life. The first time I embraced my daughter whom I thought I had lost forever, I’ll never forget it. I’ll never let the person who killed her get away with murder too… I don’t mince my words.”

Kenzer did not apologize for his lack of tact in the beginning and Fenton could hardly fault him. Suspicions were high and he too felt intense anger at the person who killed Vanessa for it landed Joe in the murky waters of despair.

“I’ve lost my son too.” Fenton stated. Kenzer snorted and drank his beer.

“You didn’t. He’s still here unless he died and the newspapers did not report it.”

“I’m running out of patience. I’m here to tell you that my son did not do it and if you’re the person who’s pulling all those pranks on him, stop it. I will get you if you did it. If you pushed my son over the edge, I will never let you off. Your grief is understandable and I can empathize…”

“Empathize! Bah! He didn’t die! He had this huge fight with my daughter and she turned out dead with a hole in her head! Tell me straight in the face that it’s so entirely possible he did not do it! Pranks to hurt him? No… I’m a law-abiding citizen. I’m a policeman, like you once were. Your son, if he’s guilty, belongs in jail. The truth cannot be hidden and you cannot save him the second time round!”  

“I said he didn’t do it.” Fenton repeated quietly, staring icily at his own frosted mug of beer. He took another swig and stood up, knowing he was very angry inside, that he was listening to all those baseless accusations about Joe and he could not do anything about it. The fear that he might anger Kenzer and, if Kenzer was the culprit, cause the pranks to worsen forced Fenton to reluctant inaction. The next time round, Frank might not be there to intercept such malicious acts. The next round, Joe might take it too hard.

He stood up. “We have nothing else to talk about for now. Good day.”

With that, he started to leave with as much dignity as he could, feeling like a failure because he could not protect his son from being vilified.

“Your son was in jail for four months right? Word spread fast when you’re the son of the infamous Fenton Hardy. He got everything he deserved!”

Fenton spun around and stormed over to Kenzer. He hefted the slightly smaller man out of his seat and gave him a rude shove. Kenzer, lost for balance, teetered back but Fenton pulled him back into position again and landed a fist squarely on Kenzer’s jaw. This time, he let Kenzer crash onto the ground but it was not long before he pounced on the struggling man again.

Blow after blow he delivered, seeing the faces of Joe’s attackers in Kenzer’s. Those callous words rubbed salt on a father’s bleeding wounds and all the rage at those who hurt his son and stole his soul was unleashed in that one moment of uninhibited fury.

“Deserved it? Who are you to judge! To hell with you!” Fenton pulled the man up and shook him hard. Kenzer, bleeding from the nose and a cut on his cheeks made by Fenton’s wedding ring, laughed in his face. Even though still consumed by his rage, Fenton heard the sorrow in the laughter. Kenzer laughed hysterically until the laughter turned into tears of anguish and Fenton, realizing the mistake he made, was humiliated by his own wrath.

Anger. Anger caused Kenzer to sprout nonsense. Anger and sorrow, a most dangerous cocktail, brought many sufferings to people and Fenton had just given in to its damaging claws. If he put himself in Kenzer’s shoes, he knew he would not have fared better either.

He was a father, trying to protect his son. Kenzer was a father who thought he had failed to protect his daughter. He could understand, couldn’t he? He unclenched his fists and let Kenzer off.

“I’m sorry. But my son didn’t do it and neither does anyone deserve what happened to him.” Fenton spoke and it was then that Albert came rushing in. The young bartender was still rooted to where he was since brawls of this nature were uncommon in Buckteeth’s because everybody respected Albert enough to not want to cause trouble for him. It was a customer that brought Albert in to settle the fight.

“Easy Fenton… lay off…” Albert stared at the crying, middle-aged man. “He seemed punished enough as it is.”

“Sorry Albert. I don’t know what came over me. Help him to his room, will you? I’ll pay for all his medical fees.”

“You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t sue…” Albert commented, shaking his head. “Sheesh, what has befallen me lately? My signboard’s rotted with those dang autumn showers and now this. Old friend, go take a good rest at home too. I’ll tend to him, don’t you worry.”

“Thanks.” Fenton patted Albert on the shoulder and walked away from the mess he created, feeling as proud as a dog with its tail hanging in between its legs.

But no parent’s child deserves what my Joe went through. No parent’s child.

***

“Darling…” Fenton clasped his hands on his dozing wife’s shoulders and whispered softly into her ear, kissing the nape of her neck after. Laura woke up with a start and smiled wanly at him before leaning back against him from the chair she was sitting, grateful for the comfort he brought.

He wished, for her sake, he could provide her some solitude. Cleaning up after the brawl as best as he could, he hoped that she could not see any trace of his earlier fight, one he was terribly ashamed of, on him.

She would not be able to notice anyway. Laura was too anxious over their youngest son to notice anything else.

Fenton watched her rest a hand on Joe’s forehead- a habit of mothers to always think that when something was wrong with their children, the most likely ailment would be fever. She smiled when Joe slept soundly away, unaffected by her touch- his breathing just like a tired baby’s. Fenton pushed Joe’s secret down his chest though he would really like to unload it to her. Her sweetly sad smile bored a hole in his chest and he knew he could never tell her. He would never want to cause her more grief.

He gazed at the needle marks on Joe’s forearm and the hands of sorrow clutched his chest again- when would the dark gloom ever release his family?

“He’s sleeping… it’s easier to be here when he’s sleeping. Remember when he was fourteen? He was so rebellious and antsy all the time, listening to those noises he called music, scowling each time we asked him to do something. You tried to council him, guide him but he would always argue back. Once, he even came home with bright blue highlights in his hair and three earrings lining up his right ear. But when he slept, he was our angel again…” She smiled gently but with disappointment lingering at the sides of her lips. Fenton took her hand and rubbed his thumb over her knuckles.

“Thanks goodness the phase did not last long. He stopped being jealous of his brother and sister and learned to be himself. The ghastly hair was gone. He was Joe again.”

Laura nodded and beamed- her wet eyes shining. “He was a good boy. He knew that. We never gave up on him, we believed in him and he believed in himself soon. Will it work again this time? Our love, support and faith in him?” The sereneness vanished- anxiety and fearful apprehension arrested her smile.

Fenton leaned over and kissed her forehead. He wrapped his arms across her chest, giving her comfort while at the same time, needing some himself.

“It always works. It only takes time, tolerance, patience… even more than a few drops of tears…”

“You know it’s only bearable because I have you here with me.” She looked up at him and once again, brought him back to their youth, back to the time when everything was perfect and he knew no matter what happened, they would weather it through.

“Yes. You’ll always have me.” He promised resolutely and silently pleaded with his sleeping son to choose to heal.