"Perhaps." he admitted with some reluctance. "But why would she do something like that?"

"Bella is afraid she might have been so depressed over Marco’s death that she took her own life." she said softly. "I could understand that. Linda loved Marco almost…frantically, I guess you could say. You remember, surely?"

Mr. Hardy nodded. "I remember. And it’s not out of the realm of possibilities. Con said he’d fax a complete report of the medical examiner’s findings to me; it’s probably in the den now." He took a few steps in the direction of the den, but halted as his younger son appeared from the kitchen.

"Hey, Dad." Joe grinned at his father cheerfully. "Did you hear about our houseguest?"

"I certainly did." Fenton commented. "I’m anxious to meet her."

"So am I," Joe said, which caused Fenton to frown in bewilderment. "We haven’t exactly met…yet."

At that moment, a door upstairs opened and shut, and a small figure began to make its way down the stairs. Seeing the three people grouped in the hallway, Bella paused halfway down, blushing with shyness.

"Bella dear, come and meet someone – two someones." Laura invited, extending her hand. "This is my husband, Fenton Hardy – your uncle. And this is your cousin Joe, Frank’s younger brother. Fenton, Joe, meet Bella Scarpetti."

Bella came down the rest of the stairs and held out her hand to Mr. Hardy. "How do you do?" she murmured. Then she turned to Joe. "Hi, Joe. I’m sorry about what happened earlier." she said, flushing even more rosily. "I don’t usually lash out at complete strangers like that." She averted her gaze in embarrassment. "I hope I didn’t hurt you."

Joe’s lips twitched slightly. How to say ‘no you didn’t’ without making her feel silly, that’s the problem here. "Nothing that won’t heal," he said aloud, and let his smile show. Apparently he had said the right thing, for the uncomfortable flush faded from her cheeks, and she smiled in return. Joe was struck anew by her attractiveness. She reminded him of someone…not just Linda or his mother, but someone else. Who does she make me think of…? "Hey, you’re ‘Tinkerbelle,’ aren’t you?"

She recoiled as if he’d struck her, and went white. Joe, appalled at her reaction, began to stammer an apology, but after a moment she held up both hands to silence him.

"Yes – I guess I am. That’s what my mother called me, anyway. It was her pet name for me; no one else ever called me Tinkerbelle."

"I’m sorry – I’m really sorry; I didn’t mean—"

"It’s all right. It’s nice to hear someone say it." Bella managed a smile. "You can call me that if you want to." It’s better to have you call me that than never to hear it again…never again…. She bit her tongue hard, using the pain as a distraction to stop the tears from flowing.

Salvation arrived in the form of Frank Hardy, yanking open the front door and admitting a wave of warm air. Seeing his family grouped in the front hallway, he stopped on the threshold in confusion.

"What’s up?"

"Introductions." Joe informed him laconically. "Now everyone knows who everyone is."

"Hi Dad," Frank greeted his father warmly. "Hi Bella; did you have a good rest?"

"Yes, I did; thank you." she replied somewhat stiffly. Everyone fell silent for a moment, unsure of what to say next.

"I need to check that fax of the medical examiner’s report," Fenton broke the silence, and was just exiting when Bella spoke again.

"Is that – the report on what my mother – died from?" she asked hesitantly. Mr. Hardy stopped and turned back to face her.

"That’s right, Bella," he said gently. "Do you want to know what it says?"

"More than that. I want to see her. I’ve got to see her!" she added, seeing their reactions. "I didn’t see Daddy after he…died." Frank and Joe, not having heard about Marco’s death, exchanged quick, horrified glances. "Mom thought it would upset me too much to see him. But because I didn’t – I guess my imagination went into overdrive. I had nightmares for weeks afterwards." Bella gazed into each sympathetic face in turn. "I want to – say goodbye." she finished.

"All right Bella, I’ll take you." Fenton said gently. He retraced his steps into the hallway. "Let’s go right now."

"I’ll come too." Frank opened the front door and gestured for Bella and his father to proceed. I brought you home from the police station, after all. I didn’t realize what it was going to turn into, but I feel like I’m responsible.

* * * * *

Frank, Bella and Mr. Hardy stood silently in the viewing room. The basement morgue of the Bayport police station was a grim, forbidding place. Of the three, Fenton was the only one with even the most remote acquaintanceship with the place. Frank had been there once – Bella, never.

A shrouded body on a stainless steel table….The assistant coroner slowly pulled back the sheet, revealing Linda Scarpetti’s head and shoulders. Frank steeled himself for the shock of seeing the image of his mother lying on that table. But he knew it had to be worse for the girl standing beside him. Instinctively, he put his arm around her slender waist, hoping to offer some slight comfort.

Bella shuddered convulsively, her face pale. She stared at the form on the table for a long time, then she twisted slightly and buried her face in Frank’s broad chest. "That’s not my mother…."

Frank frowned, and glancing sideways, saw the same confusion on his father’s face as he felt on his own. What was Bella saying? Of course it was her mother; his parents had already made a positive ID…. "Bella…?"

"That’s just an empty shell where my mom used to be." Her voice was muffled against his shirtfront. "I’ve never seen her so still – so pale. She was always full of life – so energetic. Even at her lowest, right after Daddy died. She was a whirlwind of activity. Always on the move, making sure everyone else was all right…." She shuddered again, and Frank tightened his comforting grip.

Fenton motioned for the sheet to be replaced. "Frank, take Bella upstairs to the lobby, please. I’ll be right there."

Frank nodded, and guided her toward the door. He didn’t think his new-found cousin could take much more, and he hated to see her in so much pain. "Come on, I’ll get you something to drink." Numbly silent, Bella allowed herself to be guided towards the elevators.

Upstairs, Frank found Bella a place to sit in the summer-heated lobby, then went to the soft-drink machine and purchased a can of 7-Up. Returning to her side, he popped the top and held it out to her. "Here."

She shook her head. "If I drink that right now, it will just come right back up." she gulped.

Frank nodded. "There seems to be a lot of that going around," he commented, trying to lighten the mood – and then realized that Bella wouldn’t have the slightest idea what he was referring to. She didn’t know April Wayne. He offered the 7-Up again. "Just a sip," he encouraged gently. Reluctant but obedient, she took the can and sipped a tiny amount. When that sip seemed to be willing to stay down, she tried another.

For most of the ride back to the Hardys’ home Bella huddled in on herself in the back seat of Frank’s Saturn, withdrawn and silent. Only as they neared the Hardys’ home again did she seem to come out of her shell the least bit.

There were two more cars parked near the big stone house, when Frank pulled into the driveway. One of them was a red Jeep Wrangler; the other – the sight of a blue Accord made Frank grin and his dark eyes light with pleasure. "Hey, look who’s here!" he exclaimed, shutting off the engine and opening the driver’s door.

Bella blinked in confusion. Now who do I have to meet? Mr. Hardy courteously opened her door and took her hand to help her from the car, then gently propelled her toward the house. She followed in Frank’s wake, still confused, but acquiescent.

Inside, she followed her cousin to the family room, where Joe and two girls were lounging. Frank bounded over to a recliner chair and reached to pull the occupant to her feet. "Megan! What are you doing here?"

Watching, Bella found herself smiling in empathy and pleasure. The girl Frank was hugging so enthusiastically was tiny – shorter even than Bella herself – with tumbled coppery curls; and she was returning the hug with apparent enthusiasm, despite nearly being engulfed in the tall Hardy boy’s embrace. But almost immediately, she freed herself and smiled in Bella’s direction.

"Hi. I’m Megan Wright. I’m a – friend – of Frank’s." She cast a teasing glance in Frank’s direction. "Joe told us about his new cousin….It’s nice to meet you, Bella. I’m really sorry about your mother." Nothing in Megan’s gentle aqua-blue eyes betrayed the fact that she had been the one to make the grisly discovery the previous day, but Frank squeezed the hand he still held, comfortingly.

"H-how do you do?" Bella whispered. She was instinctively drawn to this charming girl with the soft voice and beautiful eyes. And she’s obviously where Frank’s interest lies. I guess he’s not on the make after all….

"And this is my girlfriend, Vanessa Bender." Joe said. He rose from his seat on the couch and tugged on Vanessa’s hand. Bella blinked as the model-tall Vanessa uncoiled long legs and got to her feet. "Vanessa, my cousin Bella Scarpetti."

"Hi Bella," Vanessa may have looked intimidating to the younger girl, but her smile was as friendly and unassuming as Megan’s. She brushed back a strand of ash-blonde hair. "I’m sorry about your mom too."

"Thank you." Bella swallowed hard; sympathy was difficult to take at the moment, with the image of Linda lying on the table engraved in her mind.

"Tinkerbelle, are you okay?" Joe murmured softly, stepping closer to the little blonde. She nodded; didn’t try to speak.

Luckily for everyone, Laura entered the room just at that moment. "Joe, I seem to remember a remark about volunteering to grill the hamburgers. The charcoal’s ready."

"Work, work, work, that’s all I ever do around here…" Joe pivoted and headed out of the room; he let his voice trail off as he headed for the patio, dragging Vanessa after him.

* * * * *

Bella accepted her plate with a wan smile. She didn’t want to hurt Joe’s feelings, but she wasn’t really in the mood for food. The 7-Up Frank had made her drink earlier had stayed down, but she felt as if a fist were closed about her throat; forcing hamburgers and pasta salad past that invisible fist was going to be difficult. She lifted her hamburger and took a tiny bite, chewing it carefully. For all she tasted, it might as well have been sawdust. I already hurt Joe by hitting him…. I don’t want to hurt his feelings by not eating his hamburgers. And if I don’t eat, people will worry about me. I don’t want to make them worry…. If I can just make it through dinner, I’ll be fine….

If the others noted Bella’s lack of appetite, they didn’t comment on it, and her silence was masked by the laughing chatter going on. She found herself smiling at some of the jokes: Joe’s wisecracks and Vanessa’s dry put-downs of them; Megan’s contagious ripples of laughter; Fenton’s deep chuckles. It was relaxed and friendly and non-threatening; it was what Bella needed just then: family. An adored only child of doting parents, she had known love all her life; love freely given and accepted. But this larger group, with its ebb and flow of intermixing personalities, was a fascinating thing for her to watch. And the fact that Laura looked and sounded like Linda was unnerving…but comforting, too.

When dinner was over and the dishes cleared away, they reassembled in the family room. The jokes ceased; it was time for serious business, and they all knew it. By tacit agreement, Megan and Vanessa were included in this case from the start; they had earned the right by virtue of their presence the day before. Fenton sat in his favorite chair, and Laura a second recliner. Bella curled into a corner of the sofa, and Frank and Megan joined her; Joe and Vanessa occupied the love seat, his arm draped loosely about her shoulders.

Mr. Hardy cleared his throat and displayed a sheaf of papers. "I have here the detailed results of the medical examiner’s autopsy." He glanced briefly at Bella. "The cause of death was kidney failure due to arsenic poisoning." He waited for the startled gasps to subside, then continued. "There was arsenic throughout her system and tissues, and symptoms of extended arsenic exposure."

"Are you saying someone poisoned my mother?" Bella demanded, her voice shaking. "Deliberately poisoned her?"

"Well, the coroner calls it ‘death by unnatural causes’. But that’s the gist of it, yes." Fenton said bluntly.

"Who would want to murder my mom?" she quavered. "My parents didn’t have any enemies. Everyone loved them. My dad had lunch served for the homeless once a week, at the restaurant – and his staff is wonderful. My mom was the same way. Nobody would want to hurt them!"

Megan reached for the younger girl’s hand and squeezed it gently. "Sweetie, that’s what I thought too – but someone did murder my dad, just the same."

Bella cast her a startled glance. "Your father—was murdered?"

"Yes." Megan nodded, and patted the small hand she held.

"Daddy’s death I could accept," Bella faltered. "The police said it was some punk looking for drug money, and Daddy got in the way….But what you are saying about Mom…." She turned towards Laura, her eyes beseeching. "You understand, don’t you? She was your twin sister!"

"I understand completely." Laura assured her. "I can’t imagine anyone wanting my sister dead, either. But the facts remain the same. Linda died of the results of arsenic poisoning – whether it was murder, or whether it was…self-inflicted."

Bella dropped her gaze to her lap. There it is again. They think she might have killed herself. Suicide – or murder? Who would kill her? Why would she have committed suicide? Because of Daddy? She wouldn’t have left…me – would she?

Frank leaned forward, past Megan. "Bella? Who does – did – your mom see on a daily basis?"

Bella reflected a moment. "Besides me, the only people she’s around constantly are the ones who work at the restaurant. But they’re like family!"

Mr. and Mrs. Hardy exchanged glances. With that family, that could be very dangerous! was the unspoken comment that ran between them. "Bella, speaking of family – what do you know of your father’s family?" Fenton asked quietly.

"Not much," she admitted. "Daddy was as close-mouthed about his family as Mom was about hers. I didn’t even know he had any living relatives until Uncle Dom showed up at his funeral."

Laura managed to conceal her sharply-indrawn breath. Uncle Dom? Dominic? Dominic Scarpetti? When she looked at her husband, she knew he was thinking the same thing. But Fenton didn’t show his shock; he continued with his quiet interrogation.

"How did your mother feel about that? About Dominic coming to the funeral?"

Bella apparently didn’t realize there was anything unusual in her uncle’s easy use of Dominic’s full name; the fact that Fenton knew it didn’t seem strange to her. "I don’t know that mom even realized he was there. I don’t think he talked to her at the funeral. He talked to me, though. He told me that there was a falling-out in the family when Daddy married Mom, and that’s why Daddy had never mentioned him." She blinked thoughtfully. "He said he’d like to make amends and get to know me better – but he didn’t want to cause trouble, so it would be better if he didn’t come around to see me when Mom was there. She’d been through so much already, with Daddy’s death."

Frank had been watching his parents closely; there was something going on between them; something more than what met the eye. They know something they aren’t telling the rest of us! He cast his mind back to the story Laura and Fenton had related the day before. Dominic must be involved with the "family" businesses of the Scarpetti clan. He looked over at his brother and caught Joe’s eye. Joe nodded slightly. He understood.

"I realize this is probably obvious," Megan made her suggestion in a tentative voice. "but if Linda was at the restaurant often, the most logical place for her to ingest poison is there. Despite what you say about the staff loving her and everyone being like family, there’s loads of opportunity."

"Megan’s right." Fenton commented, with an approving look at his son’s girlfriend. "The restaurant is the place to start looking for possible suspects."

"Mom was there nearly every day," Bella conceded. "And she almost always ate lunch there; sometimes dinner too."

"Who is there all the time – or most of the time?" Joe asked. "And who would have the best opportunity to slip something into her food?"

"Well…" Bella pondered a moment. "The chef – Enrico. He took over as head chef after Daddy died – the under-chefs; the wait staff. The maitre d. Alexander, the manager." Bella ticked them off on her fingers. "There are probably ten waiters and waitresses and busboys – and five chefs in the kitchen."

Joe groaned. "That’s a lot of people! And it might be someone who isn’t there all the time!"

"I think the restaurant is the logical place to start looking for a potential killer." Frank stated quietly. "And that means that we need to go there – work there. Be on-site."

"Can we get jobs at the restaurant, Bella?" Joe asked his cousin.

The little blonde considered the idea for a moment. "I suppose you could be a busboy," she said finally. "It gets pretty busy, especially in the evenings. Alexander would agree to it."

"Bella—" Laura reminded her gently. "You probably haven’t thought about this, but as both your parents are dead, it’s likely that you are the legal owner of Marco’s now. If you want to hire some new busboys, you can hire some new busboys! Alexander or no Alexander."

Bella’s blue eyes widened as she assessed this information. "I never thought about that!" she breathed.

"And I can check out the staff while I’m working." Joe announced smugly. Vanessa jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow.

"That doesn’t mean deciding who’s the prettiest waitress!" she warned him, and Joe threw her a hurt glance.

"What did your mother do there, are the restaurant?" Megan inquired. "She wasn’t in the kitchen, obviously. Why was she there every day?"

"She did all the bookkeeping." Bella replied. "She was in the back office most of the time. Everything was on the computer. Mom used a computer spreadsheet to keep the books. She always said it would take a computer genius to figure out her codes, after she got started."

Frank sat up straight, his dark eyes flashing with excitement. "The books! Financial records! There’s a possible reason for someone to want to hurt your mother, Bella! If she had found out something was going on with the restaurant’s finances…."

"But there wasn’t!" Bella wailed. "There wasn’t anything going on, I’m sure of it!"

"Hey, I didn’t mean – oh, nuts!" Frank cast a despairing glance around the room, seeking help. Fenton came to his rescue.

"It’s a place to start, Bella." the investigator said firmly. "You can bring Frank in as someone checking through the books and records on the computer and otherwise, prior to a formal accounting, since your parents are both – gone."

She nodded, and gulped down a sob. "Yes, I can do that." she agreed.

Frank looked over at Vanessa and grinned conspiratorially. "If I need computer help, I know where to find it." Frank suddenly recalled that he and Joe were already employed "And if we’re going to be in New York, I guess we’d better give Jack a call. I don’t know what he’ll do, with April out sick….oh heck, this is a problem!"

"I’ll call Jack," Joe offered, getting to his feet and reaching for the cordless phone on the table. He walked out of the room, punching numbers as he went.

"I might have a suggestion." Vanessa had been quiet for a time, listening intently to the conversation as it eddied around her. "If you want someone else working with you on the inside, that is."

"What’s that?" Frank asked her.

"I ran into Tony this morning, and he was mad as all get-out. There’s a new owner at Mr. Pizza, and apparently he’s decided to bring in his own staff. Tony’s hours have been cut way, way back. He’s looking for another job, but there isn’t much open right now in Bayport, and he doesn’t really want to work for his dad’s construction crew. I’ll bet he would do a nice job working at Marco’s – better than Joe, actually, because Tony has restaurant experience, and Joe doesn’t."

Frank glanced at Bella, who was looking a little bewildered at this new name. "Bella, Tony Prito is a friend of Joe’s and mine. He’s my age, and he’s been a manager at a place called Mr. Pizza for several years. As Van says, he’s more familiar with restaurant work than either Joe or I." He grinned. "And he’s worked with us on cases before – he’s a good guy to have on hand, and he’s got a mean right cross."

She smiled. "Then by all means, let’s see if he’d like to work for Marco’s."

"I’ll give him a call right now." Frank stood up and left the room, intending to get his cell phone. As he did so, Joe came back in, the phone cradled against his shoulder, evidently still holding conversation with Jack.

"Jack said he thinks April will be okay by day after tomorrow." Joe announced, then swung about to follow Frank. "He’d like us to work tomorrow morning, though, if we can….Frank? That work for you?"

"Sure!" came the shouted reply from his brother, followed by words addressed to someone else: "Hey, Tony? It’s Frank…."

Laura cleared her throat significantly. "So when do we leave for New York?"

Fenton stared at her in amazement. "We – as in you?"

"Why not?" she demanded. "I know New York like I was born there – because surprise, surprise, I was. And I’m not going to sit on the sidelines and watch while you three figure out what happened to my sister."

"Laura, it’s much too dangerous. We don’t know who or what we’re up against." her husband warned her. And we’re dealing with the Scarpetti "family," I’m sure of that! "What if someone saw you and assumed you were Linda – and came back to finish the job?"

"Then that person is the one we’re looking for." she answered smartly.

Before either Joe or Fenton could come up with a sufficiently quelling response, Vanessa offered her opinion.

"I think Mrs. Hardy’s right. She sits back and watches you guys charge off into danger every time you are on a case. It seems to me she has a right to be in on this."

"But it’s not—" Joe began, only to be overridden by Megan’s soft tones.

"It wouldn’t look as strange for her to be there as for you anyway. Linda was her sister."

Now Bella chimed in. "I guess since Mom came to you for help, she’d want you involved. And I can solve the living arrangements. You can stay at our – at my – house. It only makes sense, anyway…since you’re my mom’s sister."

Fenton threw up his hands, both literally and figuratively. "I give up!" he exclaimed. "We’ll try to leave tomorrow afternoon, when Frank and Joe are done with their jobs at Wayne’s World." Laura exchanged triumphant glances with the two older girls, pointedly ignoring her son’s and husband’s irritation.

"Aunt Laura…?" Bella looked over at Mrs. Hardy and spoke with some hesitation, after a moment. "You said that…you’d gotten a message on your answering machine…from my mom."

"That’s right, we did. Three messages." Laura answered gently.

"Could I – could I listen to them? I want to hear her…just once more." Bella’s eyes filled with tears and she blinked rapidly.

"Oh darling!" Laura bit her lip, undecided. "Are you sure?"

"No." Bella shook her head. "That is, I’m sure I want to – I’m not sure I can make myself do it, though. But I’d like to try."

"All right." Laura glanced about the room; taking the hint, her husband, Joe, Megan and Vanessa all got to their feet and departed, making various excuses.

"I’m going to help Frank talk to Tony…" that was Megan, giving Bella a quick hug as she spoke.

"The grill needs to have the cover put back on." Fenton strode out of the room without looking back.

"We’re going to get a drink of water." Vanessa offered, and disappeared kitchenward, dragging Joe after her.

Bella smiled sadly at Laura. "They’re all so – tactful – aren’t they?"

"Yes they are." Laura fussed with the answering machine a moment. "All right, here they are. But Bella – you can stop any time you want to, you know."

When the final words died away in the quiet room, Bella was sitting on the couch with tears slipping silently down her cheeks. Laura went to her, and hugged her tightly.

"You can see now why we are so worried that something was going on."

"Yes," Bella gulped. "Who is the ‘him’ that she kept talking about? Who was she so afraid of?"

"That’s what we’re going to find out." The deep voice from the other side of the room made both women jump; Fenton was standing there with a frown creasing his forehead.

Bella slowly rose to her feet. "I think I’d like to go upstairs and go to bed now." she murmured. She flushed, as Frank, Megan, Joe and Vanessa all came into the room. "I’m sorry – but I – it’s been kind of a long day…."

"Of course, honey." Laura gave her a warm smile. "Go ahead." The others murmured their good nights, and Bella left quickly, her back straight and her shoulders tense once more.

"Maybe I should go with her—" Mrs. Hardy began.

"No." It was Megan, speaking with unaccustomed authority. "I’ve been watching her all evening. She’s putting up a good front, making everyone think she’s all right, but she isn’t. She’s ready to crack, but she doesn’t dare do it with us around. She reminds me of myself after Dad died. I couldn’t give in and break down – really break down – unless I was by myself. Bella needs that time as well. Leave her be."

"I thought she was taking things pretty well, overall." Joe observed. "She hasn’t cried all evening…and that visit to the morgue must have been rough."

"It was." Frank’s comment was simple, but his tone chilled his listeners.

"She hasn’t let herself." Megan stated with finality. "She’s controlling all that emotion – she’s shoved it down beneath necessities and civilities. But it’s there. Trust me…it’s there."

No one doubted her.