HDA - Death on the Fourth of July by Sparks & Evergreen Chapter 5

"After lunch, Linda went…wherever it was that Linda went." Mrs. Hardy went on, speaking quietly, but with soft amusement in her tones. "I had a class to go to, and then went on to the public library, because I needed to check out a couple of books. I stayed there and studied. And that’s where I spent my afternoon. I had no idea what was going to happen later…."Linda Whittier was never one to leave things to chance. She wanted Laura to secure Fenton Hardy’s help in her campaign to make her father acknowledge Marco Scarpetti’s worth, to make "Judge Daddy" admit that Marco was inherently worthy of marrying her. She immediately started putting things in motion to get the results she desired.

"Hey, Hardy! Phone!" the desk sergeant bawled, as Fenton Hardy walked through the precinct station house’s main lobby. The rookie cop was surprised. Who could be calling him, especially here, at work? He nodded his thanks to the sergeant, and picked up the indicated line.

"Hardy here." He tried his best to sound businesslike and calm.

"Officer Hardy?" The voice was soft and feminine, and somehow familiar. "This is Linda Whittier. We met this morning, in my father’s chambers at the courthouse. Do you remember?"

"M-miss Whittier? Y-yes, I remember." Fenton stammered. "Linda Whittier, right?" he emphasized the name.

"Yes, it’s Linda." A small ripple of laughter. "I understand you met my sister Laura a bit later. I heard about it at lunch. It’s because of that meeting that I’m calling, actually. I wanted to apologize for Laura’s behavior. She usually isn’t so – so…"

"Snobbish?"

"Well…I was thinking of saying ‘haughty’ but I suppose snobbish would fit. She’s had a lot on her mind lately; she’s very busy with her classes."

"Classes?" Fenton mentally kicked himself; couldn’t he do anything except repeat what Linda was saying?

"Yes, she’s a junior at City College of New York. Which brings me to the second reason I called."

"A second reason?" Another mental kick.

"Yes, I need a favor. I’m supposed to pick her up at the public library in ten minutes, and I still have to run an errand for Daddy. I hate to impose, but I thought possibly you might…?" Linda left the sentence dangling suggestively.

The young man nervously cleared his throat. "Uh – well, I did just get off duty. But I’m not sure at all that she’d want to see me. Especially not after I spilled coffee all over her. I ruined her blouse, more than likely."

"That old rag?" Another ripple of laughter came across the wires. "She’s been looking for an excuse to get rid of it. Believe me, she’d much rather you pick her up than for me to leave her stranded. She can’t stand waiting on me, and I always seem to run late…."

Fenton suffered a sudden qualm. He was taking the squad car home tonight. How would Miss Laura-Haughty-Whittier feel about being picked up in a black-and-white?

"Well—if you’re sure she wouldn’t mind me picking her up, I’d be glad to do it."

"Of course she wouldn’t mind! Now, you know where the library is, right?"

"I came out of the library right on time, and stood there on the steps, waiting for Linda to arrive." Laura said. "I was used to her being late – she was almost always late. But she always had a plausible reason for it."

When the NYPD squad car swept across her field of vision, Laura noted it, but paid no special attention. Although a police car arriving at the library was somewhat unusual, it wasn’t unheard of. She kept scanning the vehicles moving past, hoping to spot Linda.

BEEP! BEEP!

Laura jumped, startled, and looked toward the sound. The horn-honk had come from the police car. She glared…and then froze. "Ohhhh, no!" she muttered to herself. "This is absolutely not happening! This time Linda’s gone too far." Resolutely, she turned away and stared in the opposite direction.

"Miss Whittier?"

Laura ground her teeth and refused to turn her head.

There was the sound of a car door being opened and shut. "Miss Whittier? Laura? Your sister asked me to pick you up here – she was delayed, and didn’t want you to have to wait for her…." Fenton Hardy’s voice trailed off uncertainly in the face of Laura’s icy demeanor.

Given the choice of standing there and looking foolish or getting in a squad car with an earnest young policeman, Laura decided she’d rather go home than stand on the library steps all evening. She didn’t want to take a taxi, and she knew Linda was quite capable of leaving her there for hours – all in a good cause, of course!

She turned to Officer Hardy and forced a smile. "Thank you. It’s very kind of you to do this."

With a smile that lighted his whole face and made his brown eyes glow, Fenton swept open the passenger door of the black-and-white, and gestured for Laura to enter. "At your service, Miss." After she was seated, he gently closed it, then rounded the back of the car and got into the driver’s seat.

Laura glanced around at the accoutrements that made this vehicle a police car rather than a private one. "I feel like I’ve been arrested!" she commented, not entirely joking.

Fenton laughed. "If I was arresting you, I’d have put you in the back seat – behind that little wire mesh fence!"

She couldn’t quite bite back her laughter. "I don’t think I’d like being back there." She reached to fasten her seat belt, and books cascaded off her lap onto the floor. "Oh darn it!"

"I’ll get them." The young officer unsnapped his own seat belt and leaned to scoop up the books. " ‘Under the Lilacs’? You don’t see too many people reading that; usually it’s just ‘Little Women’. I liked ‘Eight Cousins’ best, myself."

Laura blinked in surprise. "You’re familiar with Louisa May Alcott?" she blurted, and blushed. "Excuse me, that sounded rude, I know." Inside, she was thinking: Well! There may be hope for you yet!

"I read a lot," Fenton said mildly. He handed her the books and re-fastened his safety belt. "I read everything I can get my hands on. Even Louisa May Alcott." He put the car into gear and eased away from the curb. "What classes are you taking?"

"I’m majoring in literature." she replied. "This is a class on 19^th Century Women Authors."

"Is it interesting?" he asked.

"Very much," Laura answered. "But I don’t want to bore you by talking about it."

"I’m not bored – but I want to say something, before we get too far afield. I’m sorry I mistook you for your sister, earlier today. Now that I’ve met you both, I won’t make that mistake again." He gave her a quick glance before returning his attention to the surrounding traffic. "I didn’t think it was possible for there to be two girls as pretty as you in the building."

Laura found herself blushing and at a loss for words. Why had she thought this young police officer boorish and disgusting? She tried frantically to frame a response, but Fenton was continuing.

"Now that I’ve met you both, I won’t make that mistake again. You two may be twins, but I think your eyes are a deeper shade of blue…and you have a softer smile."

"Wow!" Joe murmured, ostensibly to Vanessa, but loud enough for the others to hear. "I never knew Dad could reel off a line like that!"

"Now we know where you get it," she answered – and grinned as both Joe and Fenton turned exquisite shades of red.

"Laura, how can you remember all this, after so many years?" Fenton demanded, not sure he was pleased with where the conversation seemed to be going.

She smiled at him. "I just can."

"Look, I’m really sorry about spilling that coffee on you. Please, won’t you allow me to pay for the dry cleaning?

"It really isn’t necessary." Laura couldn’t believe she was saying those words. It was her favorite silk blouse, for heaven’s sake! But she said them, just the same.

"Then will you at least let me make it up to you by allowing me to take you to dinner? There’s a wonderful little Italian restaurant near here that the guys at the precinct have been talking about—"

"Italian restaurant?"

"Yes," Fenton put all his considerable charm into his voice. "We could discuss 19^th century literature…."

"So I went to dinner with him." Laura said, smiling across the room at her husband. "And he managed not to spill anything on me. And we talked about literature…and music…and his career as a policeman…and what it’s like to have a twin sister." The smile dimmed, as Laura’s words recalled to her the quiet figure lying on the kitchen floor. Tears began to roll down her cheeks once again.

"Oh, Mrs. Hardy – please, don’t cry any more!" Megan leaned to hug her tightly, and Joe turned around from his seat on the floor and laid his head in her lap as a gesture of comfort. Laura smoothed his blonde hair gently, and dabbed at her streaming eyes with a tissue.

"I’m sorry, but remembering her then, and seeing her now – it’s difficult not to." Laura gulped. She wiped her eyes again, then summoned a smile for her listeners. "I’m okay now."

"Please go on with the story, Mom." Frank leaned past Megan to make the request. "It’s fascinating…."

"We went to the Italian restaurant that your father had mentioned," Laura resumed her narrative. "As it happened, it was Romano’s – the place where Marco Scarpetti was one of the chefs. But despite Linda’s pressuring at lunch, and the fact that we were right there where Marco worked…I never mentioned the Scarpetti family that evening. I never even thought about it. After we finished eating, we sat there and drank coffee and talked – and talked – and talked some more. I found out Officer Fenton Hardy wasn’t the crude, obnoxious Neanderthal I’d originally dubbed him. And hopefully, he found out that I wasn’t quite as high-hat and snobbish and superior as he had thought me."

When Laura Whittier walked into her home that night, she knew she was in for a grilling from both her parents and from her sister. But for some reason, she didn’t much care. Her head was spinning from her evening’s experiences. She closed the front door and set her schoolbooks down on the hall table while she hung her coat in the closet.

"Laura?" A cultured, modulated voice floated through the hall, and in a moment, Isabelle Whittier appeared. She was a tall woman with blonde hair just beginning to go silvery; dressed in a long blue-velvet housecoat. "It’s ten o’clock, dear! Where in the world have you been all evening?"

"Hello, Mom!" Laura hugged her mother briefly. "I went out to dinner with someone. Linda set it up; didn’t she tell you?"

"Ye-e-s-s-s…" Isabelle’s tone indicated some doubt. "She said she thought you were going out to dinner, but I had no idea dinner would last this late. And who was it you were with?"

Laura sighed inwardly; this would have to be faced some time, but why did it have to be now? "Someone I met at the courthouse today – his name is Fenton Hardy. He’s a police officer for the NYPD."

"A police officer?" Isabelle sounded slightly shocked. "You don’t usually go out with police officers, Laura…." Somehow, she made it sound as if Laura had committed a grave social error.

"What’s this about going out with Fenton Hardy?" Judge Logan Whittier entered the hallway and kissed his daughter’s cheek. "You couldn’t find a better man to see, Laura; he’s going to have a bright career ahead of him! Fine fellow, fine fellow!"

"Logan – a policeman?" Isabelle was still protesting. "What do you know about him? Do we know his family?"

"Mother, I don’t need to know his antecedents or his pedigree to know that I like him!" Laura said irritably. "Now, since you reminded me that it’s late, I think I’ll go to bed. Good night, Daddy, good night, Mother." She hurried up the stairs, anxious to get away from parental discussions of her social life…but when she reached her room, another hurdle loomed: Linda.

"Laur! How did it go? Was it a complete horror show, or is he as nice as he is cute?"

"He’s very nice." Laura answered her twin with as much composure as she could muster. "We had a lovely dinner."

"I’ve been waiting and waiting all evening, to find out what happened!" Linda chattered excitedly, flopping onto Laura’s bed and watching her sister gratefully remove her high heels. "What did he say when you asked him to investigate Marco?"

"Marco?" Uh-oh, I forgot all about Marco! Laura thought. "Uh – it didn’t come up in the conversation, Lin…I’m sorry."

"What?" Linda nearly shrieked the word. Laura made a shushing gesture, and Linda dropped her voice, but an angry hiss was as effective as a shriek. "You were supposed to talk to him about Marco and the Scarpettis; that’s the whole reason I set up the date!"

"I’m sorry, but I just forgot about it!" Laura said defensively. "I’ll mention it tomorrow night, all right?"

"Tomorrow night?" Linda stared at her twin. "You’re seeing him again tomorrow?"

"That’s right." Laura smiled – the smile that Fenton had said was so soft and sweet. "We’re going to the symphony; I told him I had an extra ticket."

"That’s my ticket!" Linda screeched. "What happened to ‘Fenton Hardy, the uncouth, clumsy oaf’, anyway?"

Laura smiled whimsically. "Maybe I was just a little hasty when I said that. He’s not a total Neanderthal after all."

The sound of the doorbell chimes echoed through the Hardy home, jerking the six occupants out of their story-induced trance. They all looked around, startled, and Fenton rose to his feet and headed for the front door. "That will probably be the police." he said as he walked out of the room.