Hardy Boys Fan Fiction at the HDA - Brain Child

The next morning, Frank, Joe, Callie, and Vanessa met up with Fenton at the police station. Despite the police protection surrounding all of them, Frank and Joe felt better having the girls with them at all times. After all, the last time Vanessa had been alone with a cop she had almost been killed. Worse yet, that very cop was turning into a prime suspect in the case. The girls would, they knew, at least be safe within the police station walls, even if Joe and Frank couldn't keep a direct eye on them.

Although they had promised Officer Jacobs only to reveal to their father what he had told them, that plan fell through almost immediately when Frank spoke with Fenton on the phone last night. As soon as Fenton heard about Daley, he insisted on notifying Collig. It was, he emphasized, the only way to fairly question Daley with any just cause whatsoever. Fortunately, Fenton also agreed to speak with Officer Jacobs who, albeit reluctantly, agreed to inform Collig of what he knew.

As Nancy came through the door upon being called in by Collig, the group was, once again, complete. This scene was becoming all too familiar for all of them… rounds of questioning that seemingly led nowhere. Still, for everyone's sake, they had to at least continue to try to get answers. They remained quiet while John Daley, a good half an hour late, entered the room, without a lawyer or any union representation. As it was his day off, he came in plain clothes, and sat down, calmly.

He surprised everyone by speaking first. "Morning," he said. "Chief Collig called me in this morning because he told me that you all had some questions for me. I hope you notice that I am here by myself, willingly, and that I want to help you in any way I can. So—go ahead. I have a pretty good idea of what you want to know, but I'll wait for you to ask; I don't want to incriminate myself or anything."

Fenton took a long moment to stare at John Daley, whose face was totally neutral and devoid of any affect. That's weird, he noted quickly. Most people give themselves away immediately as either innocent or guilty. This guy is clearly a master of control. The phrase that had just entered his mind transitorily stuck. A master of control.

Taking a moment to acknowledge everyone at the table, Fenton gave each one a brief nod. They had all done additional homework, had researched every angle of this case, had re-interviewed witnesses… everyone had a part to play at today's meeting. THIS was it; they had to get some sort of break in the case.

Taking a deep breath, Fenton began. "Good morning," he replied, careful to mimic Daley's neutrality. "I'm Fenton Hardy, and this is Nancy Drew." He gestured towards her. "You already know Chief Collig, and of course, Frank and Joe." He again pointed at each one individually.

"Joe!" Daley said with a smile. "It's good to see you here—awake and alive."

Joe was torn. He didn't trust this guy; on the other hand, he had no reason – YET—not to, and he HAD saved his life. "Thanks," he finally managed. "It's good to be alive."

"Officer Daley," Fenton began, but was cut off at once.

"Call me John," he said. "If you want to know all about me, we ought to be on a first name basis, huh?"

He's smug, Fenton noted, as did everyone else. Why?

"Okay, John," he replied, meeting Daley's eyes. They were such a dark shade of brown that they almost looked black. "I'm going to be real direct here. We all have a lot of questions and we're hoping that you have some answers for us. I assume you know your Miranda rights and that you're willingly here to answer all questions freely and on your own accord with no legal representation."

"Sure," Daley replied, coolly.

"Okay then," Fenton replied. I'll play it his way. He crossed his arms. "Let's start with why you're here. We understand that Jimmy Dee, who is currently incarcerated for the rapes of three women and the murders of two, is really "James Daley." He's your brother."

Not missing a beat, John nodded. "Yes, he is."

"Well, why the HELL didn't you tell me that, Daley?" Collig cut in, fuming. "I never would have allowed you to take part in a case—as a protector for the victims, no less—if you were related to the accused!"

"That's why I did it, boss," John answered, coolly.

"Did WHAT?" Now Collig was angry. His officers were like his children, and this was the ultimate betrayal. He felt confused and mortified, like he'd been played as a pawn in some sort of game.

John shrugged. "Listen, someone had to look out for my brother; you know, make sure he was treated fairly and all. What harm did it do anyone? As a matter of fact, if I recall correctly, I actually saved Vanessa Bender and Joe Hardy's lives. I think you should be thanking me, not getting on my case."

"What the hell?!" Joe barked angrily. "You might have saved my life, yes—but it's your fault that it was in jeopardy to begin with! You LEFT the apartment, allowing Hughes to get in!" As soon as he said it, he KNEW it was true. Somehow, Daley had ALLOWED Hughes to get in. Joe needed a moment to process the thought.

Daley smiled. "Come on, now—you don't honestly believe that I'd let an old friend come in to hurt anyone, do you? And let's call Hughes what he is—or—was. I know that everyone here knows about my past, thanks to Jacobs. But I'm cool with that. It's no big deal, really. It's over."

Fenton couldn't believe how unaffected this guy was, and he suddenly had a very bad feeling, which he couldn't yet place, that Daley was far more involved in things somehow. He didn't like having to question and think about something new, even if it was just a feeling, at the same time, but that was exactly what he was going to do.

"Joe, I'm going to cut you off here," Fenton said. "We'll get back to where you were going in an instant, but let's start from the beginning, shall we?"

"Go ahead," Daley responded. Fenton noticed at once that it was a challenge, not an invitation. Immediately sitting up straighter, Fenton prepared for battle. The tension in the room became increasingly thicker.

"Why don't you come out with it, Daley," Fenton began. He would now use his last name; a first sign of the power struggle.

"What would that be?" Officer Daley asked.

This is a damned game to him, Fenton noted, getting angry himself. If there was one thing he could generally control, it was his temper. He needed to in order to function. Looking up, he saw Daley's smile and felt ill at ease. He's knows he's getting to me, Fenton thought, and immediately forced himself to look—to feel—in control again. He couldn't—they were dead even.

"What do you know about your brother's involvement in the case?" he started.

Daley burst out laughing. "Ah," he replied. "The great Hardy family—along with company—can't figure out even the most basic thing. This is kind of fun, actually."

Frank noted the appreciative look Daley gave Nancy along with his comment and felt his own temper begin to rise. Nancy shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Then something clicked with him… what WAS it?

"Enough with this nonsense!" Collig shouted. "Say what you need to say, Daley, or I'll—"

"You'll what?" Daley asked, so calmly, so chillingly, that the moment seemed to stand still. He then went on. "Let's face it. You have nothing on me. You have no legal reason to keep me here. I just wanted to help you out, that's all." He plastered a grin on his face. "But for my own amusement, I'll listen to you—I'll even answer your questions. And Chief?" He looked directly at Collig. "My resignation starts when I leave this room."

"You can't resign- you're fired!" Collig shouted back, furious beyond words.

Somehow, Daley had managed to ignite a fire in everyone's eyes with his icy responses and demeanor.

"You can't even do that," Daley responded, almost bored. "There's no legal basis and I could easily fight and win the right to hold onto my job. What would you say? 'I didn't like the guy- he made a fool of me'? I don't think that would stand up in court."

"You son of a---" Collig began, but was grabbed by Fenton.

"Don’t let him get to you," Fenton whispered fiercely in his friend's ear.

"Such bad language. Really, how… unprofessional," Daley countered.

Collig was about to teach this guy what unprofessional really was…. But he knew if he did that, then Daley would win. Storming away from Fenton, he clenched his hands… and sat down.

Looking at Daley, Fenton knew he'd met his match. This guy was smart… but maybe he was too smart for his own good. Although he had no reason to believe anything at all that Daley would say, he had a feeling that if he could keep him talking, then maybe – maybe—he'd hurt his own cause.

Having nothing else to go on—Daley had been right, there—Fenton opted for the truth. He didn't care if he LOOKED like a fool to Daley; he knew he wasn't one.

Looking directly in his blackish eyes, Fenton leaned forward. "Okay, Daley. You've got me. You said you'd play along for me, so I'm going to ask you questions, and I hope you'll help me out."

"That's it?" Daley asked. He looked almost disappointed.

"That's it." An idea crossed Fenton's mind. "I mean, of course you KNOW we have nothing on you. I mean, YOU didn't do anything, right? It was all your brother. So tell me—why don't you walk out the door right now? You're a free man." He raised his eyebrows in cool expectation.

Daley didn't move. Bingo! Fenton thought. He wants to play a game. He wants me to know that he did something and to know I can't prove it. His actions have just admitted guilt. But to what? We really have nothing. He waited, wanting to see if Daley called his bluff.

He didn't.

"What do you want to know?" Daley asked, for the first time looking the slightest bit unsure.

"What do you want to tell me?" Fenton asked, trying to make Daley feel as though he was in control. He thinks I know more than I do, Fenton realized with a start.

"You said you wanted to start from the beginning," Daley replied. "So I assume you know about Leslie Smith." His mouth twitched a bit at the name.

"We're not in the habit of getting dirt on rape and murder victims. We try to focus on the CRIMINALS," Fenton answered, directly.

"She was a bitch," Daley said, and Fenton noticed at once the strange, almost possessed look Daley got in his eyes. He knew her! He knew Smith!

"Watch it!" Collig stormed, but stopped immediately once he looked at Fenton. It took a moment, but Collig realized he was about to witness Fenton's genius in action. From the look of it, his sons weren't far behind.

"Your brother knew her," Fenton answered, inferring it from the response. "And so did you."

Daley chuckled and shook his head. "Yeah, you know—my brother had all these problems with chicks growing up. He was always real sick and they treated him like shit. Then he met her, you know? She was real pretty. Just when he was thinking about getting serious with her, she DUMPS him—just like that. Said it wasn't him, it was her-- damned clichéd line. Had to teach her a lesson."

Fenton's heart was beating wildly in his chest. He hadn't remembered to check on Jim's health record. Had Frank? And then, normally cool, confidant Daley was starting to look different, to speak differently; he wasn't even using complete sentences. He was being purposefully vague, and a feeling of horror was beginning to sneak up on Fenton.

"WHO had to teach her a lesson?" he asked. His mind was whirling. Now it made sense. The first victim, Smith, was STABBED, a far more personal killing than later shootings.

Daley just smiled.

Fenton, startled, jumped back.

"No," he whispered as pieces of the puzzle began swarming around him.

"You mean…" Joe could barely breathe.

"I don't mean anything," Daley responded.

"No!" Joe yelled, pounding his fist on the table. "That's impossible!"

"What is?" Daley responded smugly.

"NOW it makes sense!!!!" Joe gasped in horror. "YOU had access to the security tapes at Van's work—at our HOME! You—you knew HUGHES!" It was all he could do to stop himself from flying over the table.

"So?" Daley asked.

"Oh my God!" Nancy cut in. "When we looked at the evidence, Timms was killed by a blow to the head. Physically, your brother couldn't have done it!!!" She raised a hand over her chest. "And when I spoke with Charlotte, she distinctly remembers that – the monster who did this to her was strong, not sick—and TALL!" She stared at Daley, who stood close to 6'2", and tried to catch her breath as light dawned on her. "And according to Vanessa's initial police statement, she said you had a bad cough. Were you—were you trying to disguise your voice?!" She couldn't believe her own ears.

Collig paled as the implications of what was being said began to hit him. "My GOD!" he bellowed. "When the report came back that Joe Hardy had been shot with YOUR bullet, I didn't think anything of it."

"WHAT?" Fenton and Joe cried together.

Collig turned to them. "I didn't even think to mention it!" he went on. "If there were gunshots fired, who cares where they came from? I thought it was self-defense! And you KNEW Hughes! Of course you did! You probably contacted him. But not from your cell phone! NO- you're too smart for that. From some random pay phone in Bayport. DAMNIT! You DID let him in. But then…" Collig was speaking so fast that he could barely process what he was saying, "You KILLED him. And TIMMS! You killed them both!!! WHY?!"

"Wait," Frank spoke up, thoughtful, in direct contrast to the madness that was unfolding before him. Yes, everything was making sense, but still- there were too many holes. He tried to work though his thought process.

"There are a few things that do make sense, but still some things that we can't overlook." He met Daley's eyes, who seemed to be watching everything unfold with a mixture of uncertainty and amusement. Frank felt a chill when he looked into Daley's eyes. The eyes. One of the holes. He'd worry about that in a moment.

"Let's see what else we know, Daley," Frank spoke. "Your brother was never a violent criminal. The idea that he would suddenly become a rapist and a murderer wouldn't make sense, even if you're trying to make a case that he had motive because Leslie Smith dumped him."

As Frank spoke, Joe swore he could see the wheels turning in his brother's head.

Frank continued. "IF you had a criminal past, it never showed up. That doesn't mean you're innocent; it just mean you never got caught. ESPECIALLY," Frank pressed on, "If you had a fall guy."

Frank got out of his seat and slowly started pacing the room. Almost unconsciously, they all, including Daley, followed him with their eyes.

"Yes," he began, the puzzle pieces beginning to come together. "If you killed Hughes and Timms, no one would testify against you. THAT'S why Nancy mentioned to me in the report that Hughes seemed startled to see you when you were in Joe's apartment, according to Vanessa's memory and testimony. You set him up, didn't you? You used Vanessa as bait so he could 'have' her. You tempted a desperate man, knowing you'd come back—and kill him. Then you made it seem like it was all an accident with your ridiculous donut story that seemed too crazy to be true --- so much so that no one would even think you were so stupid as to use that for an excuse!"

Joe could barely contain his fury, but was still mesmerized at his brother's calm demeanor and methodical thought process

"So now you're rid of Hughes and Timms," Frank went on, running a hand through his hair. "Somehow, you got your brother to confess to the rapes of Leslie, Mandy and Charlotte, and the murders of Leslie and Mandy—but he didn't do it, did he? You set him up, and he allowed himself to be set up—that's why he drove directly towards the cops. You raped Mandy and Charlotte alone, though- didn't you? But you left no DNA evidence. Then…" Frank was growing more and more agitated, "you had to try and CONTROL the rest of the victims. Because rape, you know, isn't about sex—it's about POWER. As a result, you tried to control Vanessa and Charlotte through fear, for no other reason than your own perverse pleasure. You sent the packages! And you had no alibi, either—but you set it up so that no one would notice and we'd all be too focused on Jacobs to care!"

"God!" Nancy cut in. "That's how the boxes were charged to Jacobs' number!" she realized. "You were in close enough proximity, weren't you, to steal the credit card and to replace it. Then—you also stole his phone, didn't you?! That's why the dummy calls that your brother made reflected Jacobs' number, but never lasted more than a few seconds. You purposefully created a false paper trail!" Nancy could barely believe the genius—the sick mind—involved in all of this.

"But you never targeted Callie. Thank God you never had a chance!" Frank was furious.

Daley just smiled.

Joe felt his stomach drop. Frank didn't see it, but Daley had just admitted that something was up. He'd been late, hadn't he? Where WAS Callie? Joe stood up at once.

"There's just one problem," Daley said with a smile. "Although this has been a very interesting little speculation on your part, you have no proof of anything. You don't think my brother is going to verify your little idea, do you? I don't think he's capable of that, anyway."

What the hell does that mean? Fenton thought immediately,

"Furthermore, you have no confession from me—at all. You have no evidence. DNA shows my brother committed the crimes. I'm sure you know the logistics of that, Frank, don't you?"

He's taunting Frank, Joe realized again. Something in his gut told him it was intentional- why?

"It’s bothering you, isn't it?" Daley went on, happier and relaxed than he had been. "HOW could DNA be wrong? Before you speculate, let me assure you, and I realize you already know this—that my brother and I are not twins, identical or otherwise. Doesn't that blow holes through your little theory? Oh—and you know, IF I was still on the force, that I would protect your little Callie as I did Vanessa."

The color rose to Frank's face. He's playing him, Joe realized at once, but, before his protective nature could kick in, Daley turned to Joe.

"I was happy to protect Vanessa for you, Joe. I'm just sorry that she—that YOU – aren't grateful. You should hold on to her. I'd hate to see something happen to her like it did to—Iola, is her name?"

Joe stiffened. "You motherf—"

"Joe!" Collig cut in. Then he did the most painful thing he ever had to do in his life. "You're free to go, Daley."

"No!" Joe cried.

Fenton took a deep breath. "Yes, unfortunately."

"Good luck," Daley said, and left the room with a flourish.

Fenton looked around. He'd been played. Collig had been humiliated. Nancy had felt embarrassed. His sons were on the verge of total confusion, having been shaken to the very core. But Collig was right—there was no evidence, and not a damned thing could be done.

"I'll have him followed," Collig grunted, storming out of the room.

"I can't believe it! DAMN IT!" Frank called out, throwing the chair in front of him to the floor, furiously.

Joe looked out the window, at a loss. Then it hit him like a brick wall. Where had Daley just gone? Where the HELL was Callie?

Frank happened to look out the window, too, unconsciously following his brother's gaze.

Then he saw her. Callie was in the parking lot, seeming to be focused on a task at hand. She had looked straight at him, as if knowing he was there, and he could see there were tears on her face.

He didn't think. He followed his instinct to get to her, to find out why she looked so distraught. He didn't realize he was jogging now, as he left the building. Joe, on the other hand, did know, and paced right along with his brother.

The explosion was deafening.

It took Frank a moment to register the scene unfolding before him. For a moment, one sweet, transitory moment, it seemed to him that he was watching a scene from a movie unfold. It was too bright, too powerful, too surreal actually to be happening.

But it was.

And just as illusory as that moment was, reality came upon him even faster. Snapping back to his senses, he started to run, his feet carrying him faster than he ever thought possible. He felt his heart thumping in his chest; at the same time, he knew he was suffocating, unable to breathe. For once in his lifetime, he didn't think. Instinct took control. Sprinting fast-forward in slow motion, he saw himself heading towards disaster. And he didn't care. He had to reach her. Now.

*****

"Oh. God."

Joe watched his brother disappear into the fiery flames. Ten minutes ago…five… two…. the day had been still and silent, and everything that seemed to be of the utmost importance, things that had seemed life-altering, no longer mattered.

"This can't be happening." He felt the words emanate from his mouth. Then he could not talk. He could only run, praying that Father Time would grant him just a few minutes more.

He saw the bomb explode, the car disappear in a tornado of flame and shrapnel and glass. He saw her, going towards the car, keys in her hand, angry. Hurt? Resigned?

Images whirled in his mind as he chased after his brother. Had this happened before? Was it happening now? What was real and what was not?!

Finally, carried by some unnatural force, he caught him, diving on top of his brother, who immediately shoved him off. Had he always been this strong?

Flailing, he tackled his brother again. As they fought, fists swinging, he could barely discern him… all that remained was a ghost beneath him, covered in ashes, struggling, as he was, gasping for breath.

"Let… me… go."

It HAD happened before. He began to lose focus.

He broke out in a sweat, waiting for the nightmare to end, as usual.

But it didn't.

Only this time, he was on the other end.

And it was happening.

Again.

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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.