HDA - Classified Secrets by Cherylann Rivers Introduction

Vanessa Bender stood outside the airport in Florida, waiting for a limousine to pick her up. This is ridiculous, she thought for the umpteenth time that day. As soon as she had boarded the plane from Bayport, her initial excitement had turned into feelings of apprehension. Who had she been trying to kid? As bizarre as this whole situation was, she couldn’t deny any longer the fact that she still loved Joe. She couldn’t even blame him for wanting be wih Iola. After all, Joe was her first love, and if something ever happened to him, and she then had a chance to make it right again, she knew that she would try. Now, here she was, getting ready to meet some complete and random stranger, in the hopes that he’d fill Joe’s shoes. What was I thinking?, she couldn’t help but to ask herself. Vanessa sighed. She must have been suffering for a case of temporary insanity. Well, she thought, I’ll just have to meet this guy, thank him, and be on my way. At least I got a mini vacation out of it!

Vanessa scanned the airport waiting area and then realized that she honestly had no idea what she was looking for. How would the limo driver even know who she was? She, herself, had no idea if there was

particular size and color limo that she should be looking for. Maybe a big pumpkin coach will come and get me, she thought wryly, and then smiled at the absurdity of this all once again. Vanessa decided that she’d had enough. She turned around and headed back towards the ticket area, where she would try to schedule a flight home. It was then that she saw it.

Out of the corner of her eye, Vanessa caught a huge sign being held that said, simply, "Princess Vanessa." A man in a uniform of all white was smiling brightly in her direction, holding the sign in one hand and a bouquet of roses in the other. He was attracting a lot of attention from passers- by who were looking at him in wonder and with puzzled expressions. "Vanessa!" he called out in her direction. Vanessa felt her face turn bright red. "How embarrassing!" she cringed, never being one to call attention to herself. Still, with reservation, she slowly headed in his direction.

As soon as she arrived, the flowers were handed to her, along with a little crown. Vanessa was mortified. She looked at the driver, who looked impeccable in his uniform, complete with gold buttons and cufflinks. She looked down at her own sundress, and felt out of place immediately.

"Welcome!" he said, smiling brightly. "The Prince would like to extend his greetings and his regret at not being able to meet you here himself. Come, shall we be going?"

This is too much! Vanessa thought. This guy must really either be a Prince, or he sure thinks he’s one! Vanessa felt the old excitement return to join the butterflies already in her stomach. She couldn’t help but to think that Joe would love this—what a mystery! Then again, he’d probably love it a lot more if it wasn’t her involved in this particular scenario. She wished she knew where Callie was—she’d love to tell her about this. Callie wouldn’t believe it.

"Um, thanks. Do you know where we’re headed?" she asked the driver.

The smile never left his face. "I better, eh?"

Vanessa nervously laughed. Still, she wanted to be as informed as possible, just in case anything went wrong. So, she persisted. "Yes, that’s true, but… can you tell me?"

"Yes, I can, but I won’t. The Prince has requested that everything be kept a secret. You’ll find out everything you need to know, all in due time. Now, please, it’s time to go." With that, he opened the back door.

Vanessa began to get an uneasy feeling. This guy was being both elusive and, if Vanessa wasn’t mistaken, a bit forceful as well. Still, it seemed legitimate enough. It wasn’t like this guy hadn’t ever picked up other girls the same way. And, the chances of her being kidnapped in broad daylight with all of these other witnesses in plain sight, was pretty unlikely. So, with a bit of hesitation, Vanessa boarded the limo.

As soon as she did, she felt instantly ill at ease. From the outside, it looked as though there were a lot of windows, but on the inside, she saw that it wasn’t the case. They must have been for show only, because the inside was without windows all together. Vanessa began to feel her heart beat loudly as the limo began to move. Although she knew it wasn’t smart, she tried to open the door. She couldn’t. It was locked. She also realized she couldn’t see into the front —apparently, there was some wall blocking the front and the back of the car.

Having nothing else to do, Vanessa looked around. As scared as she was now becoming, she couldn’t help but to notice that everything in the limo was done with style. There was a bar, a television set, and lighting all around. Vanessa glanced at the crown in her hand. She was no expert, but it certainly looked real. She then noticed a box on the opposite side from where she was sitting. It had her name on top. Hands trembling slightly, she opened it. Inside there was a beautiful dress, high -heeled shoes, and white gloves. "Wear these, my potential princess, on our first meeting tonight" the card read.

Vanessa felt her eyes well up with tears. What had she gotten herself into? Who was this guy? She was too old to play dress up. She found herself prying that this wasn’t some sort of pervert, or someone who could hurt her. Vanessa looked around wildly . Music from Cinderella began playing in the background. There were no windows. The door was locked. Vanessa realized she was essentially in a moving tomb. Holding on to the crown tightly, she began to cry.

RING! RING! Joe Hardy heard his cell-phone go off but, as usual, he couldn’t find it. RING! Joe sighed, searching through the many pockets he had. RING! Finally, it was silenced. Joe threw his hands up in exasperation, realizing that whomever had called him probably had gone directly to his voicemail.

Joe and Iola were sitting in their hotel room, relaxing. About two hours ago, he, Iola, Callie, and Frank had tried to piece together some sort of pattern to the ads. Although they had agreed that the ads were certainly cryptic, Joe, himself, could find no rhyme or reason to why, exactly, they were worded in their particular manner. He was getting frustrated by this case, and now he was determined to crack it. No one messed with his big brother, and now this was personal.

Looking over at Iola, he smiled. As much as he had been thinking about Vanessa lately, he couldn’t deny the fact that he still loved Iola. He knew she was less than enthusiastic about him being on a case so soon after her return, but he could understand that. She had been though absolute hell, the extent to which he realized he’d never know. Not once had she brought it up, either, nor had she tried to make him feel guilty about it. Joe couldn’t stop himself from thinking that Iola would never need to make him feel guilty about what had happened. He’d always feel that way.

"Hey," he said to her.

He was trying to think of how to contact the authorities, in terms of who would be most likely to be able to catch this guy and also who would let him help. He would have discussed this more with Frank, but after a half- hour or so of looking at the ads, Joe could tell that Frank was beginning to feel the effects of the previous night. He knew his brother well enough to know when he was hurting and, although Frank was trying to hide it, Joe knew he was in pain and needed to rest. He left Callie there with Frank who, when he had left, had been gently stroking Frank’s hair as he drifted off to sleep. He knew he and Callie might never be best buddies, but after last night, he realized how deeply she loved his brother, and that was more than good enough for him. Of course, he’d never tell her that. So here he was, sitting back, waiting for a few hours before he’d go back and visit Frank and get things going on the case.

Iola walked up to him and hugged him. "Hey, yourself," she answered him.

Joe sat her down on his lap and wrapped his arms around her. "Thanks for coming today," he said to her.

Iola looked at him, and Joe knew something was wrong. "Are you okay?" he asked her, full of concern.

She kissed his forehead. "I’m fine. But Joe?" She hesitated.

"Yes?"

"I’m so sorry I wasn’t there last night. If it wasn’t for me, you could have been there with your brother. I was selfish. My needs came before your own, and I’m sorry. If, God forbid, Frank had been… I can’t even think it, Joe!"

Joe dreaded those words, as they reminded him of his absence the night before. Still, he was glad Iola had said something. This was the Iola he knew.

"Baby," he began, and then was hit with an instant pang as he thought of Vanessa. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind, thinking about what a mess his love life had become. Was it even possible to love two people so much at the same time? Frank would say no. Then again, Frank had only ever loved Callie. "Honey," he began again. "It’s not your fault. I can’t expect you to be involved in our cases. Never, ever again will I think of involving you. You deserve so much better than that. Than me…." Joe found himself choking at his last words, because, for the first time, he realized they were true.

Iola looked at him with compassion in her dark eyes. "Stop, Joe. That’s not true. I do think, though, that after this case is over, that maybe we should, you know, talk about some things." Iola smiled bravely.

Joe felt his eyes sting with tears again. He didn’t think he’d cried so much, or held back so many tears, in ages, and he felt vulnerable. He hated that feeling. "Iola," he said softly, looking into her eyes, "I love you. I really, really do. I can’t express to you what you’ve meant to me." He corrected himself. "What you mean to me."

Iola fought back her own tears and tried to stop her lips from quivering. "I love you, too, Joe. I know we’ll be alright. Together, we can get through this."

Joe clung to her tightly, and was about to kiss her when his phone started ringing again. Iola laughed. Joe loved to hear her happy, and he felt better as well.

This, time, though, he picked up his phone on time.

"Hello?"

"WHERE have you been?"

"Dad?" Joe had left two messages on his dad’s cell phone, telling him about Frank and asking for his advice on their case. Normally, he wouldn’t have bothered his father, especially when he was working on his own case, but this case needed to be solved, and fast. The more minds working on it, the better.

"Yes, of course, dad."

Uh oh, Joe groaned. He could tell he was in trouble.

"Joseph, you can not leave me messages on my cell phone like that. You almost gave me a heart attack! Is your brother okay? Is he…"

"Dad, he’s fine." Joe proceeded to tell his father all about what had transpired.

He was met with silence on the other end.

"Um, dad?"

"Yes, I’m here."

"Did you listen?"

"Joseph, OF COURSE I listened. I’m not in a good state of mind right now. You call to tell me that my eldest son was almost killed, and that now, as we speak, he’s lying in a hospital bed having been shot twice."

"But…"

"And then," his father continued, "You tell me that yet another high school has been hit with Meningitis, and more kids are dead, and that you know they’re all connected to some sort of ad in the paper."

"Well, yeah, but…"

"That is somehow connected to Cinderella and her glass slipper."

"Yeah, dad, but…."

"Joseph, do you know how crazy this sounds?!"

Joe sighed. "Dad, look. I know it sounds crazy, but it happens to be true. We figured that part out. Now, we need to find the pattern. Do you think I would bother you for no reason? I couldn’t take it if someone else died because of me, because I didn’t do something on time."

"Check to local papers to find out if there’s a way of tracing who sent in the ad. Someone had to pay for it."

"Did that. Nothing. Anonymous check was sent."

"Well, then, do the same thing for at least a few of the national papers."

"Did that. Same thing."

"Did you check the computer files from Con or anyone on the force to see if there was an escaped or newly released prisoner noted for a Cinderella fixation?"

"Yup."

"What about mental institutions?’

"That, too."

"Have you checked wealthy land areas, in terms of who would have the resources to even come up with something like this?"

"I’m working on it."

"And still nothing?"

"No." This game of twenty questions was getting to be too much for him. He appreciated his dad’s help, but he and Frank had been at this a long time and knew the basics. What he needed was the extra advice.

The line was quiet for a minute. Joe was about to speak when he heard his father’s voice. "Joe, I don’t like the fact that this guy- or girl- leaves these "slipper" insignias around. You know I’m working on a totally different case, but we have the same problem here, and I haven’t got any answers, either. This is quite worrisome."

"How is your case going?"

"Not well."

"I’ve heard about it. Canada this time, huh?"

Silence. "Joseph, I’m coming home tomorrow. Let me help you with your case. Maybe it’ll give me some ideas of my own."

"Um, you can’t do that."

"Why on earth not?"

"Well, we’re kind of in Florida, don’t forget."

Joe heard his father exhale, loudly. "Fine. I’m coming to Florida, then. Meet me tomorrow at noon, and don’t take your time about it, as usual. I want to see you and your brother immediately. By the way, that’s just the two of you, and not Iola Morton or Callie Shaw. And yes, I know Frank is in the hospital, so you will pick me up and then we’ll go there, okay?"

"Yeah. Um, thanks dad."

"Don’t thank me yet. I haven’t done anything." He paused. "And Joseph?"

"Yeah?"

"Please try to stay out of trouble until I see you again. Get all the papers you possibly can with the ads for me. I’m doing this not only to help you and the kids in the high schools, but potentially to save thousands of lives on my own case. I hope you realize the terrorist attacks are in North America now. That means…"

Joe gulped as the implications of his father’s words hit him. "That means the U.S. could be next."

"Yes, son, it does. Please be careful."

"I will."

"Love you."

"Love you, too," Joe said, blushing because Iola could hear every word on his end.

"Don’t be late!"

"I won’t." With that, he heard the dial tone.

"What could happen here?" Iola asked.

"Um, nothing. My dad’s coming down tomorrow."

"Oh. Well, he should help, right?"

"I hope so."

Then, looking into Iola’s eyes, he whispered, "Now, where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?" With that, he took Iola in his arms and covered her lips with his own.

He couldn’t help but want to protect her knowing his father’s warning, and he wanted to warn Vanessa as well. However, if he had leaned one thing, it was to live in the moment, and, as he kissed Iola, that was exactly what he was doing……..

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Disclaimer

The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation, The authors have just borrowed them for an adventure or two. The authors promise to put the boys back when they are done with them. The authors do claim copyright to the original characters in this story. Please do not borrow them without express permission of the authors.