"Thought you might like the company?" Frank hazarded an answer. He didn’t wish to alarm her by mentioning her mysterious visitors.

"Where’s Jack? I remember him leaving, earlier – hey, where’s Joe?" She frowned. "I almost remember something…or did I dream that too? Did Jack come in and wake me up?"

"Yes – well, he tried to wake you, April." Frank chuckled softly. "You told him to go away and let you sleep!"

"But why would he have wanted me to wake up? And I don’t believe you stayed here all day just because you enjoy reading old magazines and watching me sleep, Frank Hardy!" April reached for the controls on the bed and touched a button, elevating the head of the bed until she was sitting nearly upright. "Quit hedging. Where’s Jack, where’s Joe, and what is it that you aren’t telling me?"

Frank stood up and walked toward the window, giving himself time to frame a reply. Finally he felt he had an adequate response, and turned back to face April.

"Joe took Jack to the crash site. Jack wanted to see it for himself, but he didn’t want you left alone all that time, so I offered to stay here with you."

"You’re lying," April said calmly, although tears stood in her eyes. "Jack wouldn’t care two cents’ worth if I was here alone. He thinks I’m not a capable pilot, remember? I crashed his precious plane! He went to see it so he can find something to prove his point, didn’t he? Something that will show I was at fault!" The tears threatened to spill over, and she blinked furiously.

Oh no, that wasn’t where this was supposed to go! "April, that’s not true….Jack loves you; he cares about you a great deal, you know that." Frank handed April a tissue and smiled reassuringly at the girl…but the smile that curved his lips upward didn’t reach his eyes. Jack loves you, April…but right now he cares more about two packages of cocaine than the feelings of his little sister.

*****

Joe pulled the van to a halt near the Neon and got out. He walked slowly toward the two men, who had ceased their efforts to pry open the trunk, and were watching him warily.

"Having trouble?" Joe inquired, his voice deceptively mild.

"Yeah," It was the short, plump man who replied, shifting his cigar as he spoke. "Locked the keys in the trunk." He narrowed his eyes at Joe, trying to place him. "Don’t I know you from somewhere?"

"We met, briefly, yesterday." Joe smiled sweetly, blue eyes wide. "You said you were FAA investigators."

"The kids at the crash site!" The bigger man hissed the words. "What’re you doing here?"

Joe spread his hands, feigning innocence. "Just happened to be in the neighborhood."

"Ah, go on and get outta here, kid! This is none of your affair. Ernie, let’s get this thing open!" As the muscular man bent to apply the crowbar to the trunk lid once more, Joe’s mouth tightened. Still simmering with fury at Jack Wayne’s defection to criminal activities, Joe was in no mood to be cautious, and now he did something reckless in the extreme.

"Ernie, huh?" he drawled. "Well, if he’s Ernie, that must mean your name is Bert, right?" He laughed shortly. "You’re a long way from Sesame Street!"

"Why you little punk!" The big man turned scarlet with fury. "I’ll have you know the name’s Deke, not Bert!" His hand tightened on the crowbar. "You’ve got some nerve!"

"Wait a minute, Deke." Ernie caught his associate’s arm. He stared hard at Joe, who stared defiantly back. "Maybe you aren’t just a kid in the wrong place at the wrong time…maybe you know more than we thought." He stepped forward, and with a speed that belied his size and girth, seized Joe’s arm in an iron grip. "Just what did you and that other guy see at the crash, kid? What did you see…or more important, what did you take?"

Joe twisted his arm, attempting to pull free, but Ernie had a solid grasp on him, and despite Joe’s height advantage, the man didn’t let go. Instead, he added impetus to the twist, rotating the boy’s arm until Joe was forced to dip his shoulder to relieve the pressure. Ernie grabbed Joe’s arm with his other hand and yanked it behind his back, then pulled sharply upward. Joe gasped in pain and struggled to get free, but the element of surprise gave Ernie an advantage. He slammed Joe against the side of the car, hard.

"Talk!" he growled. Joe, momentarily dazed by the force of the blow, shook his head to clear it; unfortunately, Ernie and Deke took this as a refusal to obey.

"Tough guy, huh?" Deke set down his crowbar, grabbed Joe’s shoulder and whirled him about so that his back was against the Neon. "Hold onto him, Ernie." Without further preamble, Deke slammed his fist into Joe’s midsection, then immediately followed that blow with a second. Joe groaned and doubled over, but Ernie yanked him upright once more.

"Better talk, kid. Deke’s not real patient." he advised.

"No – way!" Joe gasped, then cried out as Deke punched him a third time in the stomach. Blindly, he kicked out at his assailant’s legs, but missed, and felt himself slammed against the little Neon once more. His head snapped back and struck the car with considerable force. Pain radiated through his skull, and his vision went dark.

Don’t…pass out, Hardy! Stay…conscious! Joe fought the darkness, feeling more blows hitting his body but unable to do anything to defend himself. Suddenly, however, he was released and thrown violently to the asphalt. Joe lay stunned, curled around his aching stomach and gasping for breath. Above him, Deke raised the crowbar, preparing to strike.

"Deke! Leave him alone!" Jack Wayne was shouting as he ran across the parking lot. "What do you think you’re doing, you blamed idiot?"

"Who is he, Wayne? What’s he doing around here, anyway?" Deke demanded. "We saw him and another guy at the crash site in the woods yesterday, and now he’s nosing around here!" He lowered the crowbar, but kicked Joe in the side, hard enough to make the boy cry out again.

"He called Deke ‘Bert,’" Ernie explained his partner’s rage. "You know, like Bert and Ernie on that kid show. Deke didn’t like that."

"Well you can’t go around beating up people just because you don’t like their jokes." Jack said. "He’s just a punk kid; he doesn’t know anything." He took Deke’s arm and pulled him away from Joe. "Besides, I have what you’re looking for in my office….Come on, leave him be."

"I thought you didn’t know where the stuff was, Wayne!" Deke growled. "Earlier today you said you didn’t have it."

"I – okay, I admit it; I was trying to pull a fast one." Jack spoke rapidly, still urging the two men toward his office. "I changed my mind. I don’t want any trouble, okay? No trouble with you – for me or for my sister."

Joe lay sprawled on the pavement, attempting to recover. Although he had been unable to speak, his hearing had been unimpaired, and he had heard Jack’s words very clearly. He’s giving them the cocaine! Damn him, how can he do this? Very cautiously, Joe tried to sit up, but the pain coursing through his body made him slump down once more. He heard returning footsteps and voices, and forced himself to lie still, listening.

"We’re square now, right?" Jack was asking. "You’ve got what you wanted, and you’ll leave me and my sister alone?"

"Yeah," Ernie grunted. "You made it harder on yourself, Wayne, by trying to double-cross us. We’ll remember that in the future."

"There isn’t going to be any ‘future’," Jack said coldly. "I did what you wanted and now I’m done."

There was no reply. Joe heard car doors open, slam shut, and an engine start; then the sound of a vehicle driving away. Then footsteps approached, and Jack was kneeling beside him.

"Joe? How badly are you hurt?" Jack put a hand on his shoulder and gently attempted to turn Joe onto his back.

"Leave me alone," Joe groaned. He was aching and furious; furious because Jack had turned over the drugs; furious that he had let Ernie get the drop on him; furious because Jack had been the one to save him from the beating being administered by Deke. "You slimeball, how could you do it? How could you have just given – Ahhh!" He gasped in pain as he pushed himself to a sitting position, trying to shrug off Jack’s hand.

"I gave them what they wanted to stop them from hurting you," Jack snapped. "Maybe you would rather I’d just let them beat you to a pulp? Would that have been better?"

"Yes," Joe gritted his teeth against a fresh wave of pain. "Yes, it would have been better. Now just go away, Jack. Go count your money, or something."

Jack didn’t respond in words. He simply stood, then put his hands beneath Joe’s arms and heaved the boy to his feet. He supported him until Joe was able to stand on his own, then walked him to the van and waited while Joe climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

"Did you hear what I told them, Joe?" he said finally, over the sound of the motor. "I told them that it was over. This is the end of it." Jack turned and walked away, back toward his office.

Joe stared after him. "Yeah, Jack?" he murmured. "What about the next time?"

Sparks and Evergreen don't own the Hardy Boys characters, they belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation, We've just borrowed them for an adventure or two. We will put them back when we're done with them. We do claim copyright to the original characters and themes in this story. Please do not borrow them without the expressed permission of the authors.