hardy boys fan fiction
CLASSIFIED SECRETS
hardy boys nancy drew fan fiction
by

Cherylann Rivers

Chapter 17
hardy boys fan fiction

THE CHAPTERS

INTRO

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

Joe ran quickly to the door, opened it up, and went crashing immediately into his father. Sodas went flying as Fenton stumbled back, the wind knocked out of him. Joe, who had run full speed, tripped over his father and landed with a thud, right in the middle of the spilled soda. With an audible groan, he realized that not only were his jeans soaked, but he’d have a pretty nasty bruise on his left arm from taking a dive. Still, he ignored his own prediction and went quickly to his father, helping him up.

"Dad! Are you okay?! I thought you were kidnapped.!"

Fenton stared in disbelief at his younger son for a moment. He then looked down at his new shirt, stained purple because Joe had insisted on a grape soda. He was silent for a moment.

Joe waited expectantly.

Then, his father exploded.

"JOSEPH! What on earth are you doing? Have you lost your mind? Has the blonde in your hair finally seeped down and stolen all valuable brain cells?"

Joe’s jaw dropped. "Aw, dad, I’m sorry, but…"

"But what? What are you sorry for? Was it the running like a maniac, or the almost sending me very quickly back down a flight of stairs, or was it that you had insisted on grape soda, which you wanted OPEN and on ice, that doesn’t come out?"

"Dad!"

"I’m waiting!"

Joe took a deep breath. "Dad, Frank and I heard a noise from downstairs. A truck was squealing away. You had come from that direction, and you were gone awhile, so we figured that you might be in trouble. Maybe you were kidnapped or something."

"Who on earth would kidnap me?!" This was one explanation of Joe’s that even he found farfetched.

Joe blushed. "I don’t know."

Fenton sighed deeply. He loved Joe, but his son drove him crazy sometimes. "Joe, no one kidnapped me, okay, unless they wanted some soda and thought I looked like the vending man."

"But you were gone so long!"

"Yes, Joe, because normal people like your brother and I accept things like Pepsi or Coke and don’t care for gourmet soda. I had to find some."

"Oh. But there was some guy with a paper…"

"Oh, yes. Him. Well, Joe, you see, I was trying to get some papers you didn’t have, and the lobby downstairs had some back issues. The guy came to deliver today’s papers, albeit a bit late. He asked me if I was looking for some old issues, and I said yes. We started chatting for a few minutes. He then realized he was REALLY late on his next run and had to speed out of there. He left, but forgot his delivery receipt. The lobby owner ran out after him."

Joe tried to fight his embarrassment. "Um, I guess maybe I over-reacted a little. Of course, you see why I was concerned."

Fenton rolled his eyes. "Sure, son. Whatever makes you happy to believe. Well, I guess we better get started. Let’s go. I have to change first, though, and, from the looks of it, you should, too!"

With that, he walked into the room, followed closely by Joe.

About 15 minutes Later, both Joe and Fenton were changed, and were sitting on the bed with Frank, the Personals ads spread out in front of them. Since there were many ads and each one was unique, they had decided to start with the most recent of them.

Fenton tried to clear his head. It had been a long few months for him. Although he did care about this case, he was terribly concerned about his own. He kept repeating the Latin motto in his head, "Praemonitus praemunitus,/ Sic semper tyrannis Ad corda, which he knew meant, "Be forewarned and forearmed; thus always to tyrants. To the heart." Involuntarily, his mind flashed to the hundreds and hundreds of people who had been killed all over the world, and he felt the queasiness return to his stomach. He had never felt so frustrated by a case, and he was beginning to feel personally responsible for these victims. If only he could work faster….

"Dad? You okay?" Fenton snapped out of his reverie when he heard Frank’s voice. He looked at his eldest son, who looked like he was struggling with his last bit of energy to work on this case. He felt a twang in his heart at once. He shouldn’t have let Frank be released from the hospital. He just had a bad feeling about it. Glancing at Joe, he caught the same look of concern on his face. Still, if Frank was going to try, then it was up to him to make it as easy as possible.

"Yes, son. I’m sorry. I was distracted thinking about my own case. I… never mind. I just hope that maybe seeing an entirely new case will give me ideas for my own."

Frank nodded thoughtfully. "Well, there are some similarities."

Fenton looked up.

"Yeah," Joe cut in. "In our case, the maniac leaves behind those Cinderella slipper insignias, and in yours there’s that Latin thingy."

Fenton excused Joe’s vocabulary mentally, but he had to admit his sons had a point. He began to feel the old excitement return about working on cases. Already, he began to feel better about the potential for new ideas to form.

"That’s true, Joe. Hmmm."

"Dad," Frank interjected, "I know you’re still working on the case and all, but what was that inscription ON, anyway? Can you tell us? Maybe we can help you. I know it’s classified, but.."

Fenton looked at Frank with consideration. "Well, son, we think it’s… a heart, if you can believe that. It’s not the typical Valentine’s Day candy heart shape, but more like what an actual heart looks like. Whomever these terrorists are, they clearly want to leave a trail, to claim responsibility. They’re clever, though. Do you know what a nuisance it was to figure even that clue out? A heart is an odd shape. It’s got different passages and chambers and shapes. That took a while."

"Oh. Well, maybe after we look into this case, we can help you out," Frank replied earnestly. Fenton smiled gently at his son. The last thing Frank needed was another case. He’d be lucky to get through this one with his health in tact. Quickly, he reached over and rubbed his son’s hair affectionately. "Maybe," he replied.

Joe was getting anxious. "Dad, um, we can try to help you, but I’d really like to start on this one, okay? Just because—well, you know—Vanessa and all."

"Okay, son. I know. Let’s go." He gave Joe a reassuring smile, and together, all three took a look at the most recent ads.

There were several more ads prior to this, but the thee detectives decided to focus on these in particular because they had run the longest and with the most repetition, and they were the most recent.

Joe was getting agitated, as he thought of the possibility of Vanessa being associated with any of this. "I don’t get it! This makes no sense!"

Fenton attempted to calm him. "Joe, you’re a good detective, and you know as well as I do that cases are like puzzles, and the challenge is getting the pieces to fit. You’re actually lucky in this instance. Your man- or woman- certainly left a substantial amount of that puzzle. We just have to find out how they go together. So, what’s the best way to solve a puzzle?

Frank perked up. "I do it from the outside in. You know, do the border, the solid part, first. Then, I look for the more complicated parts."

"Yes! Exactly!"

"What?!" Frank and Joe asked simultaneously.

"Do what Frank says. Look at the pieces that are easy first. What do all four of these ads have in common?

The boys scrutinized each ad.

"Well," Joe said finally, "There are a few things. Each one appears to contain a similar format, although the information changes. You have that ‘SWM seeking SF’ which I assume is ‘single white male seeking single female.’ Then, you always have the repetition of ‘Prince Charming’ and ‘Cinderella’ and that ‘secret chambers of the heart thing.’ "

"All that does look consistent."

Fenton was trying to work this out, although it was puzzling him, too. "Boys, where did the attacks take place, and in what order, in the high schools? We may have to go back to go forward."

Frank furrowed his forehead in thought. "Joe, wasn’t it Texas, North Dakota, California, and then New York and Florida?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Hmmm." Fenton stiffened. "That pattern is obvious, boys. What is it?"

Joe actually got it first. "Oh…" he groaned. "Each sector is in a different part of the U.S., and by going in this manner, the whole U.S. is represented. That was stupid," he sighed. "If I’d have seen that earlier, then we could have predicted the next hit." Joe was angry at himself.

"Don’t feel bad, Joe. I didn’t see it either," Frank tried to console his brother. Joe just shook his head.

"What else do you know, boys? Come on. Anything."

"We, um, know the names of the high schools," Frank said.

"That doesn’t matter," Joe interjected.

"Joe, you never know what matters in a case. Clearly, these are all related."

Joe knew his father was right. He was beginning to get anxious. At last, they had gotten a clue! "All right. Let’s see. Texas- Stockton West Maynard; North Dakota- Oakton; California- Music Academy at Los Angeles; New York- Elmwood; Florida- Dayton High School."

They all stared at the list Joe had written. Fenton and Joe were about to throw it away and start in another area when they heard Frank gasp.

"Are you okay?!" Joe asked quickly. Frank’s face was drained of color. Still, he covered his head with his hand and groaned. "Oh, Joe. How could we have missed it?"

"Missed what?" Fenton asked, concerned about Frank’s appearance. "Are you feeling well, son?"

Frank breathed in deeply. He wasn’t feeling well at all, actually, but he was more upset about what he had just discovered. "Dad, I’ll be okay. Look! SWM- Stockton West Maynard!"

Joe was shocked. "This … person.. has been announcing all along that the cases are related! I can’t believe it!"

"There’s more," Frank added, weakly.

"What?" Then Joe saw it. "Oh, no. S-O-M-E"

"Day," Frank added. "Someday. The names of the school spell out ‘Someday."

Fenton was perplexed, but proud of his sons. "That is EXCELLENT boys. I can’t believe you saw that."

"Well, dad, if you didn’t tell us to look there, we wouldn’t have," Joe added. Then, in panic, a thought hit him. "Dad! Frank! IF Vanessa is next"

"That’s a very big IF," Fenton reminded his son.

"If she is," he continued, "Then she’d be in Bayport. How would that fit in to the puzzle? Would it? I mean, if it doesn’t , then Vanessa is fine." Joe suddenly needed to find this out.

"I don’t know," Fenton said. "Someday Bayport. Would that make sense?"

"Not unless someone has a personal grudge against us, and that wouldn’t make sense based on this series of incidents," Frank replied quietly.

"Someday Bay? I guess that could be like a symbolic body of water or something" Joe thought out loud.

"Nah- Well, at least, I don’t think so."

"Good!" Joe said, relieved. "Then Vanessa has to be fine."

Frank had been quiet. At once, he spoke. "Unless…"

"Unless what?" Joe asked, feeling dread return to his stomach.

"Well, unless it’s something like Someday ‘B’ or something like that. Like, for example, that this organization or person will ‘someday be’ in power or something."

Joe felt sick. That sort of made sense. He began to feel nauseated. He swallowed, hard.

Fenton agreed, and now he was serious. If Vanessa was involved, and Frank’s theory was true, then he had to act fast. "You know, Joe, Frank’s idea makes sense. It could also be the beginning of a new word. In either case, in the next few minutes, I’m going to make a call to both Bayport High School, and to the Police Department. Joe, I’d keep trying Vanessa. I think I should do that now."

Both Joe and Fenton got up to move. Frank stopped them. "Dad, we’ve gotten so wrapped up in this that we’ve forgotten that we didn’t even get to the inner pieces of the ads yet. There’s probably much more info in the ‘interior’ of the puzzle. We didn’t even look at the hard stuff."

Fenton bit his lip. "Frank, You’re absolutely right. I don’t think this can wait, though. Why don’t you give me and your brother about 20 minutes or so, and then we’ll come right back and try to figure the rest of this out. I’ll use my cell phone outside."

"Me, too," Joe agreed, and the two were out the door.

Left alone, Frank fought back the steady pain that was getting increasingly worse in his side and tried to breathe evenly. He was ignoring the pain as best he could, but it was getting to be pretty bad. He wanted to take the pain pills he’d been given, but he knew he couldn’t adequately concentrate if he took them. Frank was also upset at having missed these clues, these secrets buried in the classified section of the papers, and he couldn’t help but to get a bad feeling that even more lay in store.

Fighting frustration and pain, Frank slowly stood up and leaned against his crutch. Since he had to raise his arm to get the crutch under it, each time he used it he felt a slight tearing pain in his right side. Still, he knew he had to get out of the room for a few minutes before Joe and his dad returned.

Limping slowly, each breath an effort, Frank made his way to the door and the hallway. He wanted to see the one person he knew could make him feel better, and the talk about Vanessa and Joe’s earlier fight made it seem even more necessary than before. He hadn’t wanted to wake her by calling if Joe had honestly told the truth before. So, slowly and weakly, Frank made his way to Callie’s room, expecting to see his girlfriend. He knew he could confide in her, and maybe, just maybe, she could help him.

However, when Frank arrived, he knocked repeatedly, discovering no one was there. "That’s odd," he muttered, disappointed.

By the time he arrived back at his room, and sat back down on the bed, Frank suddenly realized WHY she wasn’t there, and tried to fight back the anger that was now mixed in with pain. "That’s right! Joe told me he fought with her, but he didn’t tell me what happened." Frank instantly grew worried, but sat down, fighting back the anger. "He’ll tell me as soon as he gets back, though!" Frank whispered.

He closed his eyes, fighting the elements working against him, and hoping that this day wouldn’t get any worse. He waited.

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