Hardy Boys Fan Fiction at the HDA - Brain Child

"Are you sure you don't need any help with that?" Vanessa asked, turning to look at Callie who was in the middle of preparing what smelled like an absolutely fantastic dinner.

"Van! I'm fine. REALLY," she emphasized. "Go relax."

"I feel I should be doing something, you know? Just sitting here makes me go stir crazy," Vanessa responded with a sigh. Still, she listened to Callie and sat back against the chair in the kitchen.

"Okay, Joe," Callie kidded. Then she turned more serious. Facing Vanessa, she responded, "You've been through enough already. Relax, take it easy… try not to THINK about anything."

Vanessa, comforted, smiled and absently reached for some chocolates that Callie had out on the table.

"Hey!" Callie laughed. "The one thing you CAN do for me is to save your appetite. This isn't an easy meal, chickie." With those words, Callie turned again to the stove and began adding ingredients to the pot.

"I'll make room," she responded, and watched as the back of Callie's hair flew side to side as she shook her head in mock disapproval.

Looking at her best friend, Vanessa couldn't help but to feel a wave of gratitude overcome her as she thought about having such a special person in her life. After the attack on her and Joe last week, Vanessa had been scared—terrified, really—to return back to the apartment that she shared with Joe. What had happened to her was bad enough, but the thought of what could have happened was enough to make her eyes tear automatically and her body start to tremble. Those ideas, along with the terror of almost having lost Joe, made her apartment the last place she wanted to be.

Callie had sensed it at once, because she had approached Vanessa in the hospital, presumably after speaking with Frank, and offered for them to come live at their house until their lease was up in two months. She had been flabbergasted and deeply touched at the gesture, but unsure of what to do, how to respond. After all, Frank and Callie were in the midst of preparing for a wedding, planning a honeymoon, getting a house ready and working two full time jobs. The last thing they needed was for extra guests who would take even more of their time.

Unable to help a small smile from creeping to her lips, she recalled the conversation in vivid detail. Joe had been in the hospital for a few days and was starting to recover, and, as always, she had been by his side, unwilling to leave him for even a moment. That's when Frank and Callie had come in and cornered them.

"So what would you guys think about coming to stay with us for a while?" Frank asked, after he and Callie had seemingly gone to great lengths to make small talk. The question had been totally unexpected, leaving her and Joe no time to think about what they would say. THAT, she later realized, had been the desired effect.

"Uh…" Vanessa stammered, and Joe cut in with, "What are you talking about?"

Frank continued. "Well, we figured that you might not want to go back to your apartment with... everything."

Joe, as shocked as Vanessa, answered, "Oh." Clearly, and understandably, he hadn't yet processed the "after" effects of the attack. As he looked at Vanessa, though, she could see that it had just dawned on him what his brother was referring to, and he was at a loss.

"Actually, that's just part of the reason," Callie cut in. "To be honest, we need some help around the house. I'm not living there full time—well, not officially," she stopped to squeeze Frank's hand, "And there's a lot that we still need to do. When Joe feels better, he could help Frank with the painting. And you, Van, could help me with the decorating. I'm still not too sure of what style I should make the living room."

Vanessa felt tears in her eyes. Callie had impeccable taste, and Frank could paint the whole house by himself in a week. She had no words…

Seeing Vanessa and Joe shocked into silence, Frank carried on. "Absolutely! In fact, there's a lot more work than even painting that needs to be done. We still have to talk about bachelor party #4…" he winked at Callie.

"I… I guess," Joe had managed. He would need help when he got out of the hospital, at least for a few weeks. More importantly, though, he just realized the hell it would be putting Vanessa through to return. Again, he was awed by his brother's, and Callie's, kindness.

"But…" Vanessa began, but was silenced by Callie. "No 'buts'", she interjected. She spoke quickly with a small nod of encouragement from Frank. "Actually, we're the ones who should be thanking YOU. I mean, it'll be great to have you guys around to help out and everything. I'll go get your stuff now—with Frank. Come on!" She grabbed Frank's hand. "We'll stop by after dinner tonight—after we get some friends to help move your stuff to our place. Who knows? Maybe I'll keep that nice sofa you have! BYE!" With a wave, Frank and Callie left.

Alone with Joe, they slowly turned to look at one another in understanding of the incredible favor that they'd just been granted.

"They're amazing," Vanessa managed.

Joe reached out and held her hand. "YOU'RE amazing," he answered, quietly, taking in everything that had just occurred. "And I need you to be okay. At Frank and Callie's—no harm can come to you there. You'll be safe; and that's all that matters to me. Period. Besides," he added, a small glimmer in his beautiful blue eyes, "I am one HELL of a painter."

"Van?"

Vanessa jumped up, snapped out of her reverie by Callie. By the concerned expression that she wore, Vanessa knew that Callie was concluding that she had been thinking of the attack.

"Sorry, Cal. I'm okay." She reached for Callie's hand and gave it a squeeze. "I just—I was thinking of what a wonderful friend you are. You and Frank, both."

Callie smiled and reached over, giving her friend a hug. "Friend? You're family. AND… family doesn't need to be grateful or reflective or anything else unnecessarily. What they do need to do," she added with a laugh, "Is to stop eating my chocolate!!!"

Vanessa rolled her eyes and, right in front of Callie, opened the wrapper on a Hershey's kiss and plopped it into her mouth. She smiled.

"Oh, my," Callie said in amazement. "You really ARE the female Joe."

Vanessa was about to respond when she heard the doorbell ring.

"Are you expecting anyone?" Vanessa asked.

"No," Callie answered. "But I'll check it out."

Arriving at the door, which she always kept locked, Callie looked out the peephole. Although she saw no one, she did see a nondescript box with a UPS label affixed to it. At once, she had a sinking feeling in her stomach. It had been far too fast for someone to have rung the doorbell, left a package, and disappeared.

Still, she and Frank had been receiving lots of housewarming gifts and well wishes for the wedding. Hating herself for being so paranoid, she slowly opened the door.

"Hey!" someone called from the side of the door as she almost tripped over him.

Callie jumped, and thought she was having a heart attack.

The UPS deliveryman stared at her apologetically. "Sorry, ma'am," he said. "I didn't mean to startle you."

Letting out a deep breath and covering her heart involuntarily with her hand, Callie noticed at once that the reason she hadn't seen him was because he had moved to the side of the door to tie his shoelace. Picking up the box, he handed it to her.

"Sorry again," he repeated. "Vanessa Bender?" He read the name on the box.

"No…no," Callie responded, getting her bearings. "Callie Shaw."

The man looked confused. "Oh," he said. "I have a package to be delivered to one Vanessa Bender at this address. The sender's name is Andrea Bender." He went to check his notepad again.

"I'll take it," Callie answered, relieved. "Vanessa's inside. It's the right address." Still, by instinct, she asked to see the man's identity. She'd been with Frank long enough to know the basic rules of safety, even if other people thought it was odd. With a slightly surprised look, the man shrugged, took out his card, and handed it to her. Thanking him, she looked it over before handing it back. Signing her name for the delivery of the box, she thanked the man again, and turned to go into the house.

"Cal?!"

Callie jumped again as she noticed Vanessa eagerly looking out to see what was taking Callie so long.

"Coming," she managed, thinking silently, I must be going crazy. Everything's making me nervous!

Once inside, Vanessa pounced. "Where were you? Why did it take you so long? Who was that?" The attack had left her, much to her own dismay, nervous anytime a doorbell rang.

"I was outside, talking to the UPS man, and I got this package. It's from your mom."

"Oh! Cool!" Vanessa smiled at last. "It must be the new sweaters that she said my aunt bought for me when she was in New York last month." She went to open the package.

At once, Callie felt sick. "Van? Bring that package to the door—now."

"Why?" Vanessa queried, puzzled.

"Just do it!" Callie responded, opening both the inside and the screen doors and indicating for Vanessa to hand her the box.

Puzzled, Vanessa did as Callie asked. She walked to the door, and Callie grabbed the package steadily and paced, quickly, away from the house. Vanessa followed at her heels.

"Cal? What's wrong?" Vanessa pleaded, worried.

"Get back," Callie said evenly, feeling beads of sweat on her forehead.

"What's the matter?"

Callie was afraid to move and stopped suddenly. She'd had a bad feeling when the package first arrived. She'd ignored it. Then, the package looked somehow oddly shaped to her, but she'd ignored the feeling once again. Finally, when Vanessa said that her mom had sent her a sweater, Callie KNEW that something was wrong. There had been no reason for Andrea to send Vanessa anything; she lived only 20 minutes away. Worse yet, that package was NOT shaped like a sweater.

As soon as Vanessa had handed her the box, Callie heard it. The faintest tick, tick, tick … it was barely discernible. But she'd heard it. And she had no idea when it was set to go off. She didn't have time to warn Vanessa. Dropping the package away from the house, she grabbed her friend's hand and yanked it. "RUN!" she shouted.

It was drowned out by the deafening roar of the explosion….

*****

Across town, Charlotte Schwartz, just recently released from the hospital herself, looked down at the frame containing a picture of her boyfriend. Blinking back tears, fighting the haunting images that just wouldn't go away, she raised a hand to her mouth and bit down on her finger… hoping that somehow the pain of the moment would erase every other ache of the past. Again, the swarm of memories came fighting to the surface. About to get lost in them, she was immensely grateful when she heard the doorbell ringing….

*****

Back at the police station, a concrete division of labor had just been established. Going round the table to confirm everyone's specific tasks, they all felt better that something was finally going to get done.

Joe, because of his weakened condition, was relegated to performing basic research, much to his dismay. His job was to sort through the seemingly endless files that Chief Collig had procured on the cases. Specifically, he was to examine the family and friends of Roger Timms and Charlie Hughes, and see what he could come up with. Although he was upset that he couldn't actually be in the field, he understood the necessity of examining every last detail—and then examining it again. Normally, this was Frank's line of work. But somehow, seeing the name of Charlie Hughes again, he felt the familiar adrenaline begin to pump through his veins. Determined to know every last detail about this man who had attacked Vanessa, and him, he slipped a finger under the envelope flap and began to research. This time, he knew, the stakes were too high not to care about minutia.

Frank had the decidedly difficult task of researching every last bit of information he could find about the rapist—the murderer—Jimmy Dee. His Master's in Forensics was going to come in handy here, he knew. He was bound and determined to make sure that no evidence had been tampered with, no DNA sample compromised, that could have fingered the wrong guy. He was almost as eager to find out about Dee's background. Too many questions were left unanswered. It just didn't make sense for a guy with no real major criminal history to suddenly become a violent offender. It HAD happened before… but Frank was slowly beginning to nurture the gut instinct that he'd always had, but chose to ignore. This case was personal. He'd almost lost his brother; had come close to seeing Joe once again destroyed by the possibility of something happening to Vanessa.

Somehow, for some strange reason, things always seemed to happen to his brother, and he always, one way or another, got spared. Maybe it was because he thought a bit more carefully than Joe, tended not to follow his instincts; then again, Joe's instincts had probably saved them both far more times than he cared to admit. Still, watching his brother in physical pain over the years had been hard. Watching him in emotional and mental pain had been almost unbearable. He didn't know if he could have survived, and carried on so gracefully, if something had happened to Callie, as it had with Iola and almost with Vanessa. Big brother protectiveness almost overwhelming him, he sat down to think…. To do what he did best.

Nancy and Chief Collig had divided the tasks of re-interviewing any witnesses, checking the security breaches in the apartment and at work, and revisiting the scenes of the crimes in order to find any overlooked evidence. It was a tedious job, but a necessary one. Collig, motivated by the thought of his daughter and haunted by the look in Joe Hardy's eyes, knew it was worth his job to see if – maybe—they had the wrong man. And Nancy, knowing she had to leave on good terms with everyone, diligently dedicated herself to helping her friends.

But it was Fenton who had the envied—the feared—position. He would interview Jimmy Dee. All his years of experience had taught him that there was a great chance that Dee wouldn't even speak with him. That was fine. He was looking for expressions, body movement, how eyes betrayed the emotions behind masks on faces, that he was after. If Dee was lying, if he had something to hide, at the very least Fenton would know it. That was worth more than any "evidence" to the contrary.

"Are we ready folks?" Collig asked, looking at the eager faces around him.

Seeing the nods of agreement, he was about to leave when his phone suddenly rang.

Exasperated, he picked it up. "Collig," he huffed into the phone.

Nancy, Fenton, Frank and Joe all watched as Collig's face went from red to stark white as he listened to the voice at the other end of the phone.

"What's the matter?!" Joe asked, jumping to his feet. At once, he knew it wasn't good.

Clicking the cell phone shut, he could barely meet the eyes of Joe and Frank Hardy, and he KNEW that Fenton was right about this case after all.

"There's been an accident…"

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Disclaimer

The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The Hardy Boys Fan Fiction authors of the Hardy Detective Agency 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 original characters without express permission of the authors.