HDA - Classified Secrets by Cherylann Rivers Introduction

Fenton Hardy was apprehensive as he headed up the elevator to Frank’s room in the hospital with his youngest son. When Joe had picked him up at the airport, he looked like he had been ready to snap. It took quite a few minutes of Fenton trying to calm him before he spilled the whole story to him, up to and including the latest development with Vanessa Bender. Fenton always considered himself to be a reasonable and level-headed person, and he wasn’t so sure that either Joe or Callie Shaw were correct in their suspicions about Vanessa. He, personally, thought that this entire case that his sons were working on was a bit of a stretch; however, he realized that they may, in fact, be onto something, and it was up to him to help them out. Besides, his own case was becoming unbearable. Each day, it seemed, he was watching terrorist attacks and innocent people die all over the world, and neither he nor the top officials and investigators in the world could seem to crack the case. He had decided to help his sons because he needed a break—something to concentrate on that was different. Maybe that brief overlap in time would help him to gain some new insights into his own case, and help to avert yet another disaster.

As the elevator stopped at Frank’s floor, both Joe and Fenton stepped out. Fenton grabbed his son’s arm.

"Now, Joseph, I don’t think it’s a wise idea to mention the argument that you had with Callie to Frank right now. It would be an extra stress that he wouldn’t need."

Joe clenched his fists, but tried to control himself. Despite the long ride to and from the airport, he was still angry about the whole situation, and growing increasingly worried about Vanessa’s potential involvement. He couldn’t believe what Callie had done to him. "Whatever," he mumbled to his father.

Fenton held him back again, and turned Joe around, so that he had to meet his eyes. "No, Joe, it’s not ‘whatever.’ This is your brother’s health we’re talking about here, and I won’t stand by and let you compromise it."

Now Joe’s temper began to get the best of him. "Well, you know what, dad? What about Vanessa’s health? What about the fact that Frank knew all about Callie’s idea in the first place, and never told me? Huh? Maybe someone should lay it on the line for Frank and let him know not only what Callie is like, but what brothers are supposed to be for. You know—loyalty, HONESTY, things like that."

"Calm down!" Fenton said to his son, in a quiet, but firm, voice. "Frank is your brother, and you have absolutely nothing to say about him not being the best older brother you could possibly ask for. Maybe he made a mistake. Maybe he didn’t. But no matter what he did, I am quite certain he used his best judgment for you. Joe, you almost lost Frank two days ago. Think about that. Is it worth it to get mad at him? Because if he had been hurt just a bit more badly, you’d be thinking very different thoughts right now.

Leave it alone."

Joe swallowed the lump in his throat. His father was right. He was still mad, more-so at Callie than Frank, but Frank would always be his brother and his best friend. It didn’t mean, though, Joe had to think, that when Frank was feeling better, he wouldn’t let him have it about Callie and being honest.

"All right, dad. Let’s go."

"Thank you, Joe," Fenton told his son, and putting an arm around his shoulders, they headed for Frank’s room.

When they arrived, Joe found his brother sleeping. He was still amazed at how pale Frank looked, and a thousand thoughts floated through his mind at once. Frank should be home right now. He had less than a month of school left, the prom was next week, and baseball season was finishing up. Frank should be enjoying what was left of high school, not lying here in a hospital bed. Again, Joe was filled with feelings of guilt and his personal responsibility in having Frank end up here. He looked at the floor.

Fenton, meanwhile, went to Frank’s bedside and kissed the top of his head. He hated to see his sons, either of them, in any pain, or being hurt as a result of an investigation. There were times that he regretted having his sons follow in his footsteps, although he always had complete faith in their abilities. Still, to see your own flesh and blood hurting… it was a sight he could never get used to.

Minutes later, Frank stirred slowly. Opening his eyes, he immediately saw Joe, and was surprised to find his father there as well. The last thing he remembered was talking to Callie before he had drifted off to sleep.

"Hey, dad. What are you doing here?" Frank sat up determinedly, curious to find his family there.

Fenton smiled. "Well, son, I heard you ran into some difficulties down here, so I thought I’d check on you. I just can’t leave you alone, can I?"

Frank saw his father’s smile, but he also saw the concern in his eyes as well. "Dad, I’m okay, really. I just have to take it easy for awhile. Besides, the doctor wanted to keep me for observation, but I convinced him to sign me out today. How’s your case going?"

"Frank, my case is unfortunately not going well at all. Joe called me and told me about your case, so I thought I’d get a fresh perspective and come here and try to help you out. I understand that you have some of these "Prince Charming" ads back at the hotel. Joe and I can run and get them, and then we’ll come back here and discuss them."

"No way!" Frank objected. Joe and Fenton looked at him, surprised. "Look, we need to get to the bottom of this, and I’m not going to sit around here all day while this guy, whomever he is, is plotting his next high school target. No one else needs to die."

"No one else WILL die," Joe said, quiet but determined.

Frank looked at his brother. "Is something bothering you?" he asked him.

Frank caught the look that his father shot at Joe. "What’s going on?"

Joe stared at Frank. Slowly, but evenly, he stated, "Nothing. Let’s just say this case is personally effecting me at this point. You never know, Frank. Someone who you care about could be killed by this guy. That can’t happen."

Frank, thinking that Joe was referring to him, responded, "I know, Joe. It’s okay."

Joe met Frank’s eyes. "It has to be."

Frank was puzzled, but said to his father, "Dad, why don’t you and Joe go to the lobby and pick up today’s paper? I already convinced the doctor to let me go, as long as I promised to get checkups when we get home and to try and take it easy. " Frank smiled. "I said I’d TRY. Anyway, I’ll get changed, and you can come and get me in a few minutes."

Joe wasn’t crazy about the idea, but he followed his father out anyway. Frank was still way too weak to be let out, and Joe knew that it was a bad idea. There was no way Frank could keep up with him at this point, and he honestly didn’t want him to. However, he knew that once Frank made up his mind, it would be difficult to stop him. Joe had no choice but to give in.

Fifteen minutes later, Fenton and Joe returned, and found Frank dressed and ready to go. Again, Joe got a bad feeling about this. Frank’s shirt was un-tucked, totally uncharacteristic for him, but necessary now. Joe could just make out heavy bandaging around Frank’s waist, and he saw that Frank’s breathing was more ragged than it should be. Frank also had a huge brace around his right knee, preventing him from moving his leg. He was pale, and had dark circles under his eyes. Joe hated, hated seeing him this way.

Fenton didn’t like it, either. He spoke hesitantly. "Frank, are you sure…."

"Yes!" Frank cut him off, obviously not wanting to get into a confrontation.

"Okay, then," Fenton replied stiffly. "I’ll pull up the car. Joe, get your brother’s crutches, and I’m sure he’ll need a wheelchair to get downstairs. I’ll meet you in a few minutes. Here- look at today’s paper while you have time." With those words, he left.

Left alone with his brother, Joe didn’t speak for a minute. A nurse came in and dropped off the wheelchair. Joe refused her offer to help Frank, saying that he’d take care of it.

"Let’s go," Frank said quietly.

Joe bit back his retort. Frank was being ridiculous, jeopardizing his own health for no reason. Still, Joe decided not to be argumentative—at least, not yet. "Okay, big brother," he said. "Let me help."

Joe came around to Frank’s side, and gently put an arm around his waist to help him up. He noticed immediately that Frank gasped for air, trying to be quiet, and instinctively reached for his right side. Joe tried to ignore it. He helped Frank into the wheel-chair .

"Do you want to see today’s paper? We may as well look at it while we’re waiting for your nurse to come and take you down."

Frank nodded, and whispered, "Open it up."

Joe noticed that Frank’s hands were trembling, and that he was trying to control his breathing. He had enough. "Frank! No way! Just no way!!! You’re in no shape to get out of here. Maybe, MAYBE in few days, they should think about letting you go. You were shot and had an operation. You lost a lot of blood, and … "

"Joe!" Frank retorted. He looked up at Joe with glassy eyes, but with eyes that were determined. "I’ll take that chance, okay? I’ll have plenty of time to rest when this case is over. Right now, we can’t afford to not do anything."

"I can handle it alone!" Joe argued back.

"Yeah, just like I could."

Joe froze. "You blame me for this, don’t you?" he asked Frank, stunned.

"What?! No, of course not. All I’m saying is that we’ve got a lot on the line right now and, let’s face it, we’re not as good alone as we are together." He paused, and then weakly added, "I need you to help me, Joe, not to fight me. Please."

Joe reached down for the paper, fighting the feeling of dread that was beginning to overwhelm him. Not only had he managed to convince himself that Vanessa was definitely in danger, but he had a bad feeling about his brother’s health as well. "All right, Frank. I don’t like it, and you better tell me if you’re too tired or too weak or in any pain. Don’t be macho."

Frank laughed softly at that. "Look who’s talking!"

"Just do it!"

"Okay, okay. Now show me the paper."

The brothers flipped to the Classifieds section and, sure enough, found today’s ad. Again, this one was slightly different from the rest, but remained the same in many aspects. They stared at the ad together.

"SWM seeking SF.

Prince Charming is looking for his FINAL, real princess!!!

This is it, ladies!!!!!

520 flowers surrounding you

12 times of 12 you set off fireworks in my heart

Let’s have a parade, for you’ll light up my life!

Believe in secret chambers of the heart.

Are you my Cinderella?"

"This still doesn’t make any sense!" Joe sighed, angrily. "We need to get answers, and all we get is dead end!"

Frank reached over and gave his brother a quick squeeze on the shoulder. "I think we need to see what dad has to say about this. We also need to look at a bunch of these things together. It’s strange. Some parts are always the same, and other parts change daily or weekly. I mean, clearly, that’s got to mean something."

"Yeah, but what?"

"Well, little brother," Frank answered him back. "That is exactly what we’re going to find out as soon as we get back to the hotel."

Joe met Frank’s eyes, and thought of Vanessa. "We most certainly will, Frank. There’s no option here."

With those words, the nurse entered, and Frank and Joe left the hospital, eager to break this case at last.

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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.