HDA - Where Troubles Melt by Cherylann Rivers Introduction

"She’d be out in a second, anyway," Joe contended, but Frank had already left and was almost at Callie’s door. Joe turned to Vanessa, who was sitting in the passenger seat, with a grin. "Well, I hope he’s in a better mood for the rest of the day," he joked with her.

"I’m sure he will be, as long as Callie’s here," Vanessa said back. The two sat back and waited for Frank and Callie to begin the journey to Philadelphia.

Frank felt nervous as he approached Callie’s. She had felt so terribly the day before, and there was no way that she would be in any shape to take a long car ride that would last who knew how long. The thought of watching her suffer in any way was becoming more and more unbearable each time he thought about it. Hesitating, he knocked at the door.

Within seconds Callie appeared, a bright smile on her face. She was dressed in a loose-fitting black sweater -set, a jean skirt, and black sandals, and wore her long hair in a low pony-tail. Somehow, with just a little bit of make-up, and the right clothing, she managed to look perfectly healthy. Only the closest observer could detect her weight loss or the swollen bump on the back of her head. She looked beautiful. Frank was speechless.

"Hey," she said, smiling at him, and giving him a kiss. "Ready to go?" She headed for the doorway.

Frank stood in her path, and Callie looked up at him, questioningly. "Um, Frank? You’re blocking the way, and patience has never been Joe’s strong suit. Come on—let’s go!"

"Joe can wait."

Callie met his eyes. She really didn’t feel like having this conversation now. Patiently, she asked him, "Is there something the matter?"

Frank sighed. How could he tell her everything he was feeling? All he could manage was "I… I don’t think you should go. You were so sick yesterday! This might not be good for you, and I… well, I just want you to be okay. Don’t be angry with me."

Callie looked through the door, and saw Joe and Vanessa laughing about something. She took the quick moment to meet Frank’s gaze, and felt her heart melt when she saw the concern, the love, and the fear he had for her all reflected there.

Softly, she spoke, as she reached up and gently touched his cheek. "Oh, Frank. I could never be ANGRY at you for caring. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you now. I’m okay today, and I’ll continue to be okay as long as I physically and mentally can be. PLEASE, don’t feel sorry for me. Obviously, there’s something very wrong here, whether it’s… cancer... or not, I really don’t know. I CAN tell you that I can’t let whatever it is beat me, and that means I have to live my life the best way I can, every day—the way we all say that we’re going to, but so few of us really ever do."

Callie pulled back and looked at Frank, and saw him struggling to be calm. She knew him too well. What others would perceive stoic silence Callie knew to be Frank’s attempt to stay in control of his emotions. It really broke her heart to watch him in so much turmoil and pain. She looked at the floor. She wanted to believe her own words- and she needed Frank to believe them- but a large part of her wanted to sink to the ground and just cry. Still, she couldn’t do that.

"Okay," Frank managed, clearing his throat. "I just… wanted…" He couldn’t find the words again.

Callie stepped into his arms, and felt him embrace her tightly. She rested her head against his chest, and could feel his ragged breaths. "I know," she whispered, gently.

Slowly, she broke free of his arms and, eyes shining with tears, she found herself smiling again. "You’re okay, Hardy, you know that?" She laughed, softly, and blinked back the tears. "Let’s go. Your brother must be going stir crazy by now."

Frank, choked up himself, forced a weak smile in return, and nodded. Reaching for Callie’s hand, he held it tightly as they headed to the car.

The ride to Radley in Philadelphia proved to be a nice time after all. Frank watched silently as Callie laughed and joked around and even got into a silly singing contest with Joe and Vanessa over who knew the most words to the songs on the radio. Joe won, but that didn’t even seem to phase Callie, who just looked happy to be with friends. How does she do it?" he mentally asked himself. "How does she hide all of this?" Still, in that moment, Frank made a choice. He could either give into the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him, in which case he still had no control over the situation, or he could try and really be normal, and to enjoy this time that he had with Callie, while she was still happy and healthy. It didn’t take him long to make his decision.

As they arrived outside the Eliot Jewelry store, he perked up a bit. "Van? Callie? You guys can wait here while Joe and I check this out. It might take a little while, though."

Joe shot his brother a look in the rearview mirror. Those were the first words Frank had spoken on the trip, minus the occasional "no," or "uh huh." Callie was acting perfectly normal. This whole thing was getting bizarre.

It was Callie who spoke first after that. "Listen, Frank, my friend used to go to school near here. Why don’t Vanessa and I take the car and we can pick you up in two hours or so? There’s some great shopping down the street, not too far from here. This way, we don’t wait and we’re happy. You can investigate, and you’re happy, and then, well, you’ll make us even happier by buying us dinner tonight!"

Vaneessa laughed. "Great idea, Cal!"

"Okay, then," Joe responded, handing the keys to Vanessa. "Two hours—and don’t be late!"

"Look who’s talking!" Vanessa responded back.

Joe stuck out his tongue at her, and hopped out of the car. Frank followed, giving Callie a kiss on the cheek before he left.

Once on their own, Joe thought about asking Frank about his odd behavior, but decided against it, for the moment. They had a case to concentrate on, and right now, that had to be their first priority. They had spoken briefly with their father regarding the possible connection of this jewelry heist to the one in Bayport, and Fenton had put in a few phone calls that allowed the boys access to speak with the policemen who were investigating the crime. Fenton happened to be an old friend of the Police Commissioner’s, who had allowed the boys to use his name to get some pull.

They walked up to one of the officers, and Joe spoke first. "Excuse me," he said, politely. "My brother and I are investigating a possible connection to this robbery and another robber, and we were wondering if we could ask you a few questions."

The officer smirked at them, and Joe sighed inwardly. He knew what was coming next; almost inevitably, with the exception of the Bayport Police, this was the initial reaction that they got. "Investigators, eh? You’re a bit young to play policeman, don’t you think?" He shook his head, and the smirk disappeared. "Get out of here, kids. There’s a serious investigation that’s taking place here, and you are interfering with official police business."

Joe felt himself getting angry here, and felt the color rise to his cheeks. He was about to tell the officer a nice place to stick official investigative reports when he heard Frank speak up. Frank was soft-spoken and non-confrontational by nature, so when he did make a point, people generally tended to listen to him. Joe remained silent and listened.

Frank began, "My name is Frank Hardy and this is my brother, Joe. We are on official police business as well. Our father is a private investigator, formerly of the NYPD. But, if you’d like further confirmation of the fact that we’re entitled to ask questions and to be here, I’m sure Commissioner Jones would be happy to verify that for you. Call him. I have his number right here." Frank whipped out an address book, ready to produce the number.

The officer looked startled. "I’ll be right back," he muttered, and stalked away.

Joe turned to his brother and nodded approvingly. "Not bad, Frank."

Frank smiled. "I try."

Within minutes, another officer approached the brothers, apparently having spoken with the initial one. This one was much more accommodating. "Well, boys, I hear that you’re on a case from the Comish. How can I be of assistance to you?"

Joe was agitated by the little respect he and Frank got until they actually solved cases. He planned to solve this one now, but couldn’t resist prodding the officer. "Well, sir," Joe began, "The behavior of the gentleman who was just here was really disappointing. I‘d hate to have to report him to Mr. Jones. I…"

He was cut off by Frank. "I think what my brother means to say is that although the kind officer wasn’t initially helpful, we appreciate the security procedures that you have in place and the fact that you follow protocol. We’ll- ah- be sure to pass that on to Mr. Jones."

Joe went to give his brother a dirty look but, to his surprise, Frank’s tactic worked, and the officer was now more vociferous than ever. "Well, now, I appreciate that," he began. "How can I help you? You know, anything the Comish wants, we try to get."

Frank suppressed a smile. "We’d just like to know a few things."

"Shoot," the officer replied.

Joe cut in. "When did the robbery take place? I mean, what time?"

The officer replied, "Around 11:30 this morning, son."

"And no rubies were stolen?" Joe continued.

"Nope- only amethysts. They’re valuable, but not as valuable as say- diamonds or something like that."

"There was no attempt to break in to the safe, or to steal anything other than the amethysts?" Now it was Frank who spoke.

"No- that’s the unusual part about this case."

"And there was a hostage?" Joe asked.

"Yep- the little girl. She’s fine, thank the lord."

Frank was puzzled. He and Joe were doing their usual questioning routine—establishing facts they already presumed to be true before moving on to new ones. It helped to establish the credibility of the witnesses and the veracity of the earlier reports. Still, Frank was looking for a more direct connection.

"There were two robbers? And one getaway car? Are there any leads on that?" Come on, Frank thought. Tell me what I’m looking for.

"Well, son, you’re right about all of it. Two robbers, one car- an unusual one. Some old man identified it to us as an Oldsmobile—Toronado, I think. It was a popular car back in the day. The license plate began with a "T"—that’s all we got."

Joe sucked in his breath. There it was again! Now there was a definite connection between the cases. Finally, he asked, "I know it’s unlikely, but were there any fingerprints found?"

"Nope- they both wore gloves. Still, I’ll give you my personal number in case we get any more developments." He smiled at them.

"We really appreciate that," Frank responded.

A few minutes later, Frank and Joe sat at a little booth next to the jewelry store sipping cans of soda, as they waited for their girlfriends to pick them up. Both were excited about the connection, although they were a bit perplexed at this point.

Frank finally turned to Joe. "Joe- let’s say that dad’s right, and that the guys who are doing this are the same ones that he put away to prison a long time ago. What were their names again? Oh yeah. Ramses and Butler died, and Smith and Wilkins escaped. Anyway,…"

Joe stared at his brother. "Frank? That’s kind of a long shot, don’t you think? Come on!"

Frank sighed. "Stop ruling things out before we can, Joe. I’m speaking hypothetically here. You know as well as I do that weird things can happen on cases. That’s all I’m saying."

"Go on," Joe said, before taking another swig of his soda.

"ANYWAY, if it’s true, and they want revenge against us, what’s the deal? I mean, I was IN the store where the robbery took place in Bayport. I was fine. Then, the robbery takes place here—far away from New York. And amethysts? What have they got to do with rubies?" Frank furrowed his brow in concentration.

"That’s why I said it was a long shot," Joe replied back sarcastically.

Frank shook his head. " I think…"

"I know what you think," Joe interrupted. "You think that the next thing we need to do is to look up jewel collectors in the area, and any crime history that they might have. Guess what? While you’ve been going off the deep end these past several days, I’ve already done that. Nothing, Nada. Zilch."

"Oh," Frank said, surprised. He hadn’t thought that Joe would think to do that.

"I also think we should watch national coverage for any more heists of this pattern, and get on the Toronado and Totowa search. Well, regional coverage at least."

"I agree." Frank was impressed.

"Now…" Joe said, finally smiling. "That I am sure you are impressed with my abilities, promise me that you’re going to start acting normally again and that—you know—the thing with Callie will be put on the backburner for a while."

Frank swallowed hard. He wasn’t sure how to respond to that. "Well, Joe—Callie has to come first. She always will. But- I’m willing to concentrate on the case first before Callie and I find out the news."

Joe’s eyes widened. So it was true! Callie was pregnant! He felt the color drain from his face, although he tried to keep his composure.

"Oh- oh. So- ah- you don’t know yet?" He asked, hoping against hope.

"Not for sure, Joe." Joe watched his brother clench his hands and struggle to keep calm. ‘But it doesn’t look good. The doctor is fairly certain. We’ll know in a week. I can’t believe this is happening. It’s so—horrifically unfair. What will I do, Joe?" Frank looked devastated.

Joe put an arm around his brother’s shoulders. "I guess… see what Callie does- what she wants to do." He looked pointedly at his brother, who seemed to catch his drift. "There’s always hope, you know. When someone’s in… trouble... you have to do the best you can for her. Don’t let it ruin your whole life, though. There are ways to deal with this."

Frank looked at his brother, the pain apparent in his eyes. "How can you say that Joe? I--- she’s everything to me."

Joe thought that comment was odd, but he let it slide. "Well, don’t worry- I won’t say anything," he promised.

"Thanks," Frank replied, sadly.

Just then, the girls pulled up. "Hope in!" Vanessa sad, laughing. "You wouldn’t believe the stuff we got today!"

As the boys climbed into the car, Vanessa continued to talk ."Yeah, there was some good shopping to be done today. Things were expensive, though. We didn’t get any good deals."

Callie chimed in. "I’d go so far as to saw we got pretty rotten deals!" she quipped.

Joe looked at his brother in the back seat of the car, who already had an arm secured tightly around Callie’s shoulders. "Yeah, bad deals tend to happen a lot, even if you have good intentions." It was all he could think to say.

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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.