HDA - Where Troubles Melt by Cherylann Rivers Introduction

At Chet’s house later that evening, Joe Hardy was sitting quietly at a picnic table in the backyard. To most people, he would have appeared perfectly content. However, Vanessa noticed immediately that he wasn’t acting like his normal self.

"Joe? Are you alright?" she asked him quietly. Normally, Joe would have been out playing volleyball or badminton with the rest of his friends, or dancing and clowning around. At the very least, he would have had a full plate of food. It wasn’t hard for Vanessa to see that he was acting out of the ordinary.

Sheepishly, he turned to her. "Sorry, Van. I guess I’m just a little pre-occupied right now. Was it that obvious?" He hadn’t meant to bring Vanessa or anyone else down, but he simply couldn’t concentrate on having fun, knowing what his brother was up to.

She smiled at him, and placed her hand over his. "Well, it’s obvious to me, but I don’t think others would notice." She looked around, and then turned back to him. "Is there anything you want to talk about? I mean, we could chat here, or go back to my place. Whatever you’d like to do."

Impulsively, Joe leaned over and kissed Vanessa’s cheek. "I wish I could tell you, Vanessa, but I really can’t. Not now. Would you be mad- if I headed back to my place? I’m not really in the mood to socialize tonight."

"Sure, hon, anything you want," Vanessa answered him. "I understand."

Joe looked into her eyes and gave her a tender smile. "You’re the best, do you know that?" he said softly to her. He watched as she smiled and blushed slightly. He meant it, too. Vanessa was a real rarity. She was always there to listen to him and to offer him advice, but she never pressured him to talk when he couldn’t. More times than he could remember, Vanessa’s ability to let him cool off had saved him a lot of agitation and trouble. He was reminded again of how much he loved her.

"Ahem." Joe and Vanessa found themselves looking up in the direction from which the noise had come. Joe felt his heart beat a little quicker in nervousness as he looked at Iola Morton, Chet’s sister and his ex-girlfriend, about whom he still cared very much. Although they weren’t together any longer and the split was amicable, he still felt a bit awkward in her presence, especially in situations where he was also with Vanessa.

It was Vanessa who spoke first. "Oh, hi Iola," she said in a friendly voice without the least bit of malice. Joe shook his head in wonder at the amount of class Vanessa consistently demonstrated. "I’ll let you speak with Joe. It’s nice to see you again." She stood up to leave.

Iola found herself swallowing back the lump in her throat. Although she had broken up with Joe, the truth of the matter was that she still loved him, very much. She had known, though, that he was in love with Vanessa, and in order not to hurt him, and to ensure that he hadn’t been with her out of guilt, she had pre-empted a break-up, and had been secretly heart-broken when he had chosen Vanessa over her. She refused to let Joe know any of this, however, and was trying to deal with the pain on her own. Still, when she looked into his bright blue eyes, it felt like time had gone back, and the wound was as fresh as ever.

Putting on a forced smile, she tried to sound a lot more chipper than she really was. "No, no, Vanessa. Don’t leave. I just wanted to give Joe a message."

Joe raised his eyebrows. "I have a message?"

Iola nodded. "Yeah, your brother called. I don’t know why Frank isn’t here, but he apologized. I guess he’s with Callie, since she’s not here, either. In any event, he asked for you to come home as soon as you could. Apparently, earlier today there was a robbery of Yeats Jewelers in town, and I think Frank was somehow involved. He didn’t give me a lot of info, but he did say he wanted to talk to you as soon as possible about it. So- um- I guess you can call him or just go home."

Joe was surprised. Frank was involved in a robbery? Bayport was one of the safest places to live that he could think of. "Is Frank all right?" he asked, standing up.

"He’s fine," Iola replied softly.

Joe let out a breath he had just been holding. "I… I guess I’ll head home then." He looked apologetically at Iola. "I hope you don’t mind I’m cutting out early. Tell Chet I’m sorry. I…" He stumbled for words. "I guess I’ll talk to you soon. Can you call Frank back and tell him I’m on the way?"

Iola bit her lower lip, and then nodded. "I did already, Joe. I knew you’d go right home. Good luck." With that, she turned away.

Joe felt sad. Iola still knew him so well, and he couldn’t help but to get the feeling that despite their friendly exchange, there were still a lot of unresolved issues. Still, he couldn’t worry about them now. He turned to Vanessa, but she just reached over and gave him a hug. "Well, you were going anyhow," she quipped. "Go ahead. Someone’ll give me a ride home later. I hope everything is okay."

Giving her a quick kiss, he replied, "Me, too," before heading to his car.

Less than 20 minutes later, Joe arrived at his house and rushed through the kitchen door. At once, he saw Frank sitting at the kitchen table with their father, who was also, by trade, a well-known private investigator. On more than one occasion, the boys turned to their father for advice. Sometimes, as on their last case, they worked as a team and their cases overlapped. Joe could only assume from the distraught look on his brother’s face and the serious one on his father’s that they were talking about the robbery. He was correct.

"What’s going on, Frank?" he asked, sitting next to his dad at the table. "I got here as soon as Iola gave me the message that you called."

"I think you did the right thing, son," Fenton replied. "Frank was involved in a robbery today. I think he should tell you about it."

Over the next 15 minutes or so, Frank related everything that had happened earlier today. Joe was amazed at his brother’s timing, or lack thereof. This DID seem to be an unusual case, totally out of the norm for a heist of any import. At the conclusion of Frank’s story, Joe let out a low whistle. "Well, Frank, it seems like we have a case here. Just be thankful, though, that you weren’t hurt."

Fenton looked at his eldest son. "I’ll second that."

"So what do you think, dad? I assume that Frank filled you in before I got here. Any suggestions?" Joe asked his father.

"Actually, yes,’ Fenton replied. "Joe, just before you got here, I was about to ask Frank to come down to my office with me. As soon as Frank told me what happened, I became suspicious. Come down. I’ll tell you why."

Joe looked at Frank and shrugged. He noticed that Frank appeared distracted, and made a mental note to talk to him privately. The brothers followed their father to his office, walking past their aunt Gertrude, who, tight-lipped, stared after them. Notoriously, aunt Gertrude did everything in her power to dissuade her nephews from getting involved in cases, no matter how many times they had proven capable of handling themselves. She obviously suspected they were on another case now.

Unable to resist the opportunity to tease his aunt, Joe smiled brightly and said, "Auntie! Dad needs our help vacuuming in the office. We’re calling it the case of the determined dust balls!"

"Joseph!" his father replied sternly.

Joe laughed, leaving his aunt behind with an outraged expression on her face.

In the office, Frank and Joe took a seat on the couch as their father booted up the computer. He turned to them. "Boys, obviously, you’ll need to speak to the police to see what they found out about today’s robbery. However, there’s something you should know, although I can’t say for certain if this has anything to do with it."

Frank met his father’s eyes. "What, dad? Anything would be a help at this point."

Fenton exhaled slowly. "As you know all too well, I’ve been busy with this terrorist group investigation for awhile." Joe nodded. Their last case had involved the very group about which their father was speaking. "So, I haven’t had much time to spend on other matters. When Frank told me about the unusual nature of this case- it took place in daylight, there was no attempt at a safe break- in, the thieves only wanted rubies- clearly, that sparked my interest."

"Do you know of ruby thieves?" Joe asked excitedly.

Fenton looked startled, then laughed. "Of course not, Joe! If I did, the case would be fairly simple, wouldn’t it?"

Joe blushed, and mumbled, "I guess so." He hated sounding stupid, but sometimes his emotions got the better of him. Actually, that happened a lot.

Fenton continued. "What I was going to say is that almost four years ago, there was a major case that I cracked involving robberies that were going on in the entire New York area. Granted, these followed the more usual patterns, but they always took place in daylight, which is unusual. Anyway, these guys were very difficult to follow. They always took a hostage as well, usually a small child, but, thankfully, no harm ever came to the child."

"That sounds a lot like what happened today," Frank said, and Joe was surprised at the intensity of Frank’s voice as he hung onto each word coming from their father.

"Yes, that’s what I thought," he responded.

"But, dad, you said that you cracked the case," Joe added, still not sure of where this was going.

Fenton sighed. "I did, son. There were four people involved, and they became very rich and were successful until I was able to get them by discovering their pattern. Working from Buffalo down , each town that they hit was effectively one hour later than the next one, and 45 miles apart. These guys are amazing—they’re very smart, specialists in computer systems and fine jewelry. By breaking the pattern, we were able to catch them."

Frank asked at once, "So they’re in jail now. Hoe does that effect this case?"

"Because, son, they’re not. Two years ago, all four escaped from a maximum security prison by rigging alarms and jamming computer systems. There was a near riot as other prisoners attempted escape. Two of the men, Chris Ramses and Shelley Butler, died in the attempt. Ramses was known as "the wizard" because of his genius with computers. The second, Butler, was a literature scholar. He’d often mastermind plans based on ideas he got from the classics. Interestingly, both bodies of the men were burned beyond recognition when some of the other prisoners started fires to serve as a smokescreen. Several other prisoners died in the same fashion. They only identified the men by the jewelry that they wore- gold medallion pendant necklaces. Let me show you what I’m talking about."

With that, he typed in a code on his computer, and the pictures of Ramses and Butler and two other men came up. Frank stared at the picture, with Joe peering over his shoulder. All four seemed very average looking and didn’t appear to have any distinguishing characteristics, at least from the picture he was looking at. They all appeared to be of average height, but Ramses and Butler were dark haired, and Wilkins and Smith were fair. Other than that difference, they looked totally normal.

"Okay, so what happened to the other two?" Frank then questioned.

"That’s the thing. We don’t know. They were never found. Their names are Robert Smith and Jeremy Wilkins. Smith is a whiz on computers as well, and Wilkins was an architecture buff. All four are ivy league graduates. Well, they were. I guess they decided a life of crime was more rewarding. They were never found. I never would have thought of them again, since I worked with many others for six months and found no clues. But – this case just reminded me of them for some reason."

Joe couldn’t resist quipping to his brother, "Ivy League? Makes you rethink Princeton, huh?"

Frank shot him a dirty look, and Joe immediately became quiet.

"Boys, there IS one more thing that you should be aware of." Fenton faced his sons with a serious expression on your face. "When I brought in the men to be charged, they were angry- very angry. They had succeeded for so long, they thought they were invincible. Upon their sentencing, they swore revenge on me and my family, and promised that if they were ever to escape, they’d come up with the world’s most amazing heist and, along the way, enact their revenge. Of course, I didn’t think anything of it, BUT if this is the same group, they’re probably even more enraged now that their two friends have been killed. I can’t ask you not to take the case boys, or even tell you that this has anything to do with it, but I can tell you to be very careful." He looked Frank and Joe in the eyes. "Because if it IS them, boys, they’re out to cause a lot of trouble."

Fenton went to leave his office. "Keep me abreast of what’s happening. Maybe I can help." He disappeared behind the door, which he shut behind him.

Joe turned slowly to his brother. "What do you think? Do you want to take this case?" Personally, Joe had been forward to relaxing, but he had to admit the case held his interest. As he looked at the expression on Frank’s face, he knew the answer before Frank opened his mouth.

"Yes. I need to take the case, Joe. If you don’t want to help, that’s fine. But like I told you before, I need to do this for Callie." His voice held a mixture of sadness to it that Joe hadn’t heard in a while.

"Frank?" he asked, placing his hand gently on his brother’s shoulder. "You know I’m with you if this is what you want to do. But can’t you get Callie..." He hesitated, still not believing he was saying this."….another ring?"

Frank looked at Joe, and Joe was shocked when he thought he saw tears in his brother’s eyes. "What’s the matter?" he asked, alarmed.

Frank stood up and cleared his throat, blinking his eyes rapidly and turning from Joe. A moment later he faced him again. "No, Joe, I can’t. She... she would want this one. I also want to spend as much time as possible with her when I’m not directly on the case, okay? I’m sure you understand."

Joe had no idea what to do or say. "Um- yeah, sure I understand. Look, Frank, can you talk about what’s happening with Callie yet?"

"No," Frank whispered. "I can’t. You know as much as I do." Visibly upset, he turned and left the room.

Joe raised his hand to his head and rubbed his temple. He was utterly confused about Frank’s behavior. "Then you must not know much, big brother," he said to himself, and followed Frank out of the office.

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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.