HDA - Where Troubles Melt by Cherylann Rivers Introduction

“Well, that was a success,” Joe Hardy said sarcastically to Iola Morton as he sat next to her in the cab. They had just come back from the home of Robert Smith, one of the computer experts on the team of thieves. He hadn’t been surprised that when attempting to speak with Smith’s wife, she had been totally uncooperative Despite lying about his last name, she had given no information as to her husband’s whereabouts, and she continued to deny that she had spoken with or been in contact with him.

Iola glanced at Joe, and tried to cheer him up. She said, “Joe, try not to be discouraged. I mean, we knew right off the bat that this woman is obviously protective of her husband. If she has heard from him, she wouldn’t tell us. That’s what you do for someone, you love, I guess. I’d do it for…” She cut herself off, right before she completed her thought. Blushing, she realized that had been too close.

Joe turned to Iola, sensing that she was about to tell him something important. Still, he could tell by the look in her eyes that she wasn’t about to go any further with what was on her mind. Despite this, he decided to re-play their trip to the Smiths before they arrived at the Butler ’s. “Iola?” he began. “I understand what you’re saying about the wife being protective of the husband. But there was just something… I don’t know… weird, about her reaction when we first came. I mean, it’s nothing she said or did, but I … never mind. This probably sounds like Greek to you.” He gave her a tight smile. Only Frank would normally know how to help prod him along in his thoughts, and Frank, unfortunately, was not really in the picture at this point.

To his surprise, Iola didn’t give up on him. “No, Joe, I know what you mean. It’s almost like she knew…” Iola paused, searching for the right words.

Joe picked it up instantly, as if he could read her mind. “Yeah! Its almost like she knew we were lying, didn’t she? She almost seemed to enjoy telling us that nothing was her son’s fault, but that … you know… he would get his revenge someday.” Joe became animated. He had forgotten how nice it was to have someone with whom he was so deeply connected to help him along.

Iola gave him a small grin. “Yup—I got that feeling, too.” She wrinkled her nose at him playfully. “Feel better now?” she asked.

Joe laughed. “Yeah, I do. I guess we’re almost at Shelley Butler’s home. Maybe we’ll have more concrete luck there. Well, at least I hope so. I mean, the guy’s dead, and I really don’t see the point of checking this out. But you know Frank….” Joe’s voice faltered as he realized what he’d said. Even he didn’t know Frank anymore. He missed working with his brother a lot. Even more, he missed just having him around.

Iola noted the change in Joe’s demeanor, and knew she had to cheer him up. They were almost at the house. “Well, Joseph, there’s no harm in checking things out. Besides, you can walk away knowing something from this stop.”

Joe, curious, looked at her. “What’s that?” he asked.

Iola replied with a straight face, “Well, in this case, the butler definitely did not do it.”

Joe burst out laughing, the momentary lapse into melancholy temporarily forgotten. He loved Iola’s corny sense of humor; that was one bond that they shared that very few people could understand, much less tolerate. Reaching over to her, he impulsively gave her a hug. “Thanks. I needed that,” he said to her.

Iola hugged him back. As they pulled away from each other, their eyes momentarily met, their lips only inches apart from each other. There was a heart-stopping moment when time seemed to stand still. Their faces tilted towards each other, they slowly moved in each other’s direction.

“HONK!” The loud noise caused them to jump apart from each other, both of their faces flaming red.

“We’re here, people,” the cabbie muttered in a grouchy fashion. “Um, uh… thanks,” Joe said, fumbling for money. “Can you please wait here? This shouldn’t take long.”

“Yes. Hurry, please,” he responded.

Joe jumped out of the cab, Iola following behind him. He could feel his heart beating a mile a minute. Oh, God, what was I thinking? he asked himself, angrily. Luckily, nothing had happened between them, but Joe knew that wasn’t an excuse. Had it not been for the cab driver, something would have happened. Joe clenched his hands tightly. He would not cheat on Vanessa; he loved her so much. Rubbing his temple as he walked up to the Butler home, he realized that he would have to clear his feelings for Iola up once and for all, before he got himself into a lot of trouble.

Iola, trailing behind, held back tears. She felt humiliated and ashamed. She liked Vanessa, and she wouldn’t hurt her. Despite her feelings for Joe, she knew it could never work out with them; not now, at least. Even though Joe was giving her mixed signals, she knew she couldn’t fall into that trap. Besides, she thought warily, I’m probably giving off some mixed signals myself. Nervously, she clutched her purse, needing something, other than Joe, to hold onto.

At the doorway, Joe mumbled, “Let me handle this,” as he continued to look at the ground. He couldn’t meet Iola’s eyes.

“Mmm hmm,” he heard her murmur in response.

After a few moments, the door was opened by a woman in her mid-thirties.

“Mrs. Butler?” Joe questioned, getting himself together.

“Yes? Can I help you?”

Joe took a deep breath. Okay, this didn’t look horrible so far. At least she hadn’t kicked him out yet. Slowly, he began. “Mrs. Butler, my name is Joe…” He paused, remembering that he hadn’t even bothered to make up a name. “Um, Bender. Joe Bender.” Joe sighed. Well, at least Vanessa would have been happy, as stupid as he sounded at the moment.

The woman raised her eyebrow. “Yes, Mr. Bender?” she asked.

“I’m terribly sorry to bother you, ma’am,” he began. “I’m with the Boston College Sentinel, and we’re thinking about doing a story on your husband’s … career… before his untimely death. We were thinking about taking an angle that your husband was unjustly killed by prison officials, and we’d appreciate it if you could talk to me about it for a few moments.” Joe hoped she would buy that story, as he tried to make it appear that he was on her side.

The woman laughed. “Mr… Bender, was it? My husband is very much alive. However, my brother is here. I mean, he was here.”

Joe blushed. “Sorry about the mistake,” he muttered.

She smiled again. Iola watched her, and couldn’t shake the bad feeling she was getting watching this woman’s reaction to Joe. It was the same bad feeling that she had gotten when they had been at the Smiths.

“Look,” the woman said, suddenly turning hostile. “There’s nothing I want to tell you that I’m sure you don’t already know, or think you know.” She looked pointedly at Joe, and he got the feeling that there was some hidden message in her words. She went on. “My brother isn’t here now, and I suspect that you’re here due to the recent national robberies that have taken place that follow the same pattern as those that my brother once committed. I suggest that you see the people who are…in this world… they’d have better answers for you.”

“B… but…” Joe stuttered, looking for the right words.

She met his eyes, and he knew- he just knew- that she wasn’t telling him the total truth about something. He let her finish, though. “You want a clue, a nice, HEARTY one? A few days ago, a man came in to take some of Shelley’s old literature books, out of the blue. He also took the gold medallion that Shelley was wearing when he died. He was a friend of Shelley’s, apparently. Isn’t that strange?” she said, sardonically. “And here you were, wondering if you’d get any information whether I’ve been in touch with Shelley’s friends who made it out. The answer to that is a resounding ‘no.’ But ponder the book thing- somehow, I have a feeling you like playing detective.”

She slammed the door.

Joe turned to Iola. “Do you think…” he began.

Iola answered him before he could complete the thought. “Yeah. I don’t know how or why, but that woman, and the Smith woman, knew exactly who you were.”

Joe’s face turned stony. Turning to Iola, and guiding her back to the cab, he said, “They sure did. Why else would she tell me that about the books? And offer to give me a ‘hearty’ clue, which is so close to my last name?”

Iola added to the thought. “And why else would she say that you liked to play detective?”

Joe sighed, as he opened the door to the cab for Iola. He tried not to think about what had almost taken place there before. “I really don’t know what’s going on, Iola, but I do know one thing.” He hated to say it, but he had to. “I need to speak to my brother, because I need his help on this.”

Iola was concerned. “I think that’s a good idea, Joe, but do you think he can concentrate on anything, with the engagement and the pregnancy and all?”

Joe met her eyes. “Which you DON”T know about,” he reminded her.

Iola was insulted. “I said I wouldn’t talk, Joe, and I won’t. Thanks for the trust, though. I appreciate that.”

“Iola, I’m sorry,” he said. He didn’t need to fight with her, too.

Iola’s frustration and anger, as well as her hurt, surfaced as they drove away. “Joe,” she said, “You better watch who you alienate from your life. I think you should talk to Frank, maybe Vanessa,” she choked out the name, “but not to me, since obviously you can’t or won’t trust me.”

“I said I was sorry,” Joe said, surprised.

Iola glared at him as she fought back tears. “Oh, okay,” she said, sarcastically. “I guess we should kiss and make up then.” She turned away.

Joe, shocked and guilty, had no response, either.

Waiting to meet up with Frank and Callie, the two rode in silence back to the hotel.

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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.