"I’m a WHAT?"

Frank Hardy was astounded – and disbelieving. He stared at his younger brother as if he saw horns sprouting from the blonde waves. Indeed, he might have been less surprised if he had seen Joe had grown horns.

Joe had been waiting for him outside his last class, and the younger Hardy had pounced on his elder brother and started talking immediately. Frank, mesmerized by what Joe was saying, found himself trotting along towards Joe’s next class, heedless of where his next class might be! He halted their progress for a moment, though, to stare at Joe, then shook his head and started on again. "I’m a dead ringer – by the way, I don’t like that term in this context! – for this Elliott Pembroke guy?"

Joe nodded vigorously. "According to Vanessa, you look enough like this Pembroke to be his twin brother. She figures that Emily fixated on you because of that. Or – well, it might be the coin on the chain. If that’s what brought her back, so to speak, and it belonged to Pembroke and he’s the one who killed her…well, it might have been the last thing she saw!"

Joe paused on the sidewalk and swung his backpack around to reach inside. "I had Van send this to the library computer, and I printed it out there; I didn’t want to take time to run home and get it off yours. Look at this!" He shoved a sheet of paper at Frank, a black-and-white copy of an old newspaper photo, evidently. The picture was grainy and old-fashioned, but it clearly showed a young man with handsome, chiseled features, dark hair, and dark eyes. A man who, taking into account differing styles of dress and hair, was a mirror image of the elder Hardy brother.

Frank frowned, staring down at the picture. He could see the resemblance, easily. "I look more like Elliott Pembroke than I do like dad," he breathed. "If this is the guy who killed Emily, then no wonder she’s coming after me! I didn’t know ghosts could get confused by appearances, but…well, heck! What are we going to do about THIS?"

"I’ve no clue," Joe admitted. "My persuasion skills seem to have fallen flat when it comes to that witch!"

"Ghost, not witch."

Joe snorted. "She may be a ghost, but she’s got witchy tendencies all the same."

"Well, she was murdered. She has a right to feel a little put-upon. We just have to figure out some way to convince her that it wasn’t ME who did it!" Frank’s dark eyes twinkled a little; this idiotic conversation with Joe was inexplicably making him feel better. "Okay," he continued, taking a deep breath. "We may have solved the puzzle of who murdered Emily, but that doesn’t help at all in the mystery of the people staking out the lighthouse. I’m sure they didn’t have anything to do with it! We should definitely get back out there later today and see if we can pick up some more clues about that."

"Ideally, they’d be there when we arrived," Joe grinned.

"You know, I don’t like the fact that Cherise is suddenly out of town, when there’s a very good possibility that people are going to be trying to rip off the lighthouse," Frank commented somberly, as they walked into the Science building, where Joe’s next class was located.

"What…do you think she was lured out of town on a pretext, to leave the lighthouse more vulnerable?" Joe queried. "Or – aw jeez, Frank, you don’t suppose she’s in on it, do you? And left on purpose?"

Frank shook his head and shrugged. "I don’t know what I think, right now; I just know that it seems awfully suspicious. I’d feel better if we could actually confirm that she was called out of town."

"I wonder if there’s some way we could check?" Joe pondered the question. "Maybe we could call the Historical Society again, and get Cherise’s home address…." He heaved a doubtful sigh. "They probably wouldn’t give out that information, though. Why didn’t we get it from her before?"

"You sure you don’t? She might have given it to Vanessa, you know. And if worst comes to worst, we could have Megan try calling and asking for it; people always trust her," Frank added, grinning a little.

"Van may have it, true. Or at least a home telephone number, and we could work backwards from that." Joe sounded a little more hopeful. "I’ll ask her."

They parted ways at Joe’s classroom door, and Frank walked to his own class – knowing he was going to be late, but unable to care a great deal. He had a larger problem to solve…just how to convince Emily that his name was NOT Elliott Pembroke!

*****

It shouldn’t be so hard to find your way around a community college campus! Matt Eckersley fumed to himself, as he turned around and backtracked yet another time. Intending to meet up with Frank and Joe after their last classes, he’d figured he had plenty of time – but now he was late, and getting later, for he kept becoming lost in the labyrinth of streets and walkways which mysteriously ended in parking lots he didn’t want, or smack up against buildings. The directions Frank had left him earlier in the day had looked simple enough, but obviously Matt’s skills at navigating anything other than the streets of New York City were lacking!

I used to be able to get around in L.A. just fine! Like it was my own back yard…well, duh, it was my own back yard. And I don’t have any trouble with New York! Maybe it’s a small town thing….Maybe I should have taken that left turn in Albuquerque! He grinned, remembering the quote from favorite Bugs Bunny cartoons, when he was growing up. Okay, admit it, Eckersley – not just growing up – his favorite now, too. He always watched Bugs Bunny.

THERE it is! Made it! Finally spotting a small sign which read ‘Student Union,’ Matt parked in the nearest lot and hastened towards their meeting place. So, he was twenty minutes late. At least he hadn’t gotten hopelessly lost and had to call Frank or Joe for help. He saw the two of them, lounging near the entrance doors to the building, grinning teasingly at him.

"Uh – hey, dudes." Matt tried on a sheepish grin of his own. "Sorry I’m late, I like got really turned around – took a wrong turn somewhere, and it took me awhile to find my way back. So, what’s up?"

"That’s what we’re going to talk about," Frank informed him. "Come on, Joe’s car has the most interior room, and we don’t want to talk where we might be overheard, even here. So let’s go sit in his car while we do this."

They went to the Aztek and settled in; Joe in the front passenger seat, turned to face Matt and Frank behind him.

"We’ve got a feeling, Matt, that someone’s going to rob the lighthouse," he began. "Well, we sort of wondered about that before, but we’re getting more and more convinced about it. We’re not sure if it’s someone after the lens – which weighs a ton, and would be almost impossible to steal, admittedly…or after those lost jewels – which, of course, no one has been able to find, for decades!"

"Okay…." Matt waited for further enlightenment.

"So here’s what we’re going to do…."

*****

"Frank, you going to be okay?" Joe voiced the question quietly. He was worried about his older brother, more worried than he cared to admit. After outlining his plans for investigating the lighthouse to Joe and Matt, Frank had been abnormally silent. Not that he’s ever a chatterbox, Joe admitted to himself, but he’s quiet even for Frank. After their talk, Frank had excused himself, saying he wanted to make a phone call - to Megan.

Psyching himself up, Joe thought. Steeling himself for the ‘battle’ he’s expecting to come. Checking in with Megan beforehand...just in case. Usually, Frank ended a conversation with Megan looking happy and relaxed, but not this time. This time, although he smiled automatically at Joe, it looked definitely forced. "Is everything okay with Megan?"

Frank nodded reassuringly. "Megan’s fine. Sorry – it’s just…the dream. I can’t seem to shake the feeling I’m being watched all the time."

Joe grinned encouragingly. "You’re just getting paranoid in your old age, big brother. Your birthday’s coming up, and you know what happens to people when they get older…paranoia becomes rampant after the age of twenty—" he ducked, just in case Frank decided to swat him. But Frank didn’t make the effort.

" ‘Just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean someone isn’t out to get you,’" Frank quoted softly. But he summoned up a wan smile, to Joe’s relief. He was glad to see his attempt at humor was at least a little bit appreciated!

"Seriously, bro, I’m a little freaked too," Joe admitted, sobering. "Emily’s not just after you anymore – although you’re still her main target, I think – she’s also after me…and by extension, Matt. And I don’t like it all that much!" He glanced over to where Matt waited, lounging against his pickup. Matt had been very polite about accepting the Hardys’ frequent private discussions, Joe thought. He wondered if they were being very fair to young Mr. Eckersley, not mentioning – or at any rate, not emphasizing! – the fact that Emily was extending her homicidal hatred to anyone associated with Frank! "Frank….Hey, you sure about this? You want to pull the investigation off?" he queried. "Or Matt and I could go alone, and—"

"No." Frank shook his head firmly. "It’s one thing to be paranoid; it’s something else to give in to it, and I’m not going to. I am going with you to Stone Point, and we are going to figure out what’s going on, and who’s trying to rip off the lighthouse, if that’s what they’re trying to do. If Emily shows up – again – I’ll just have to survive the experience. And," he added dryly, "try to convince her that she’s got the wrong person. There must be some way to convince her. I’ll think of it when I’ve got the chance."

Joe eyed him dubiously. "Riiiiight. Well, whatever." He motioned towards the Aztek, and beckoned to Matt. "Let’s go."

 

As they drove towards Stone Point, Joe watched Matt surreptitiously as the other young man sat in the front passenger seat, fidgeting with the camera strap about his neck, his nerves obvious. Matt wasn’t Matt any more than Frank was Frank, right now, Joe mused. All the bounce and sparkle and enthusiasm had been leached away, and Matt was quiet and grimly determined. Am I acting differently myself? If he’d considered mentioning the ‘Emily factor’ to Matt, to add to the potential dangers of meeting up with the strangers who kept hanging around Stone Point, Joe continued his thoughts, he sure wasn’t going to now! Matt had enough on his mind without bringing Emily back into the equation! I’ll just have to hope that nothing bad happens and Emily keeps her distance while we try to figure out who the ‘watchers’ are!

"You know, Eckersley, we’ve got it easy," Joe said aloud. "Frank’s plan might be a little nerve-wracking, but really, only for him. He’s the only one at risk." He twisted his head around and looked into the back, where the only sign of his brother was the suspiciously lumpy-looking blanket on the floor behind the front seats.

"Suppose you’re right, dude."

They were silent once more, as Joe drove towards the lighthouse. "I wonder where I can park, to make this work?" the younger Hardy said, at last. "I’ve got to find someplace where the bad guys – and yes, I’m sure they’re bad guys – aren’t going to see Frank. Or the whole plan’s blown before we even get started!" He glanced over at Matt again. "You ready?"

"As I’ll ever be," was the subdued response.

"Yep, me too…." Frank’s soft, muffled voice came from beneath the blanket where he huddled.

"Okay, we’ve got it all straight, right?" Joe turned into the lighthouse driveway. "I’m going to check out that hidden room again. Matt, you’re going to walk around taking pictures and generally being a nuisance to anyone who’s trying to break in, or keep watch on the place. And Frank’s going to sneak inside, and then find a place to hide." He paused, frowning. "That is, if that caretaker, Carter, isn’t around. For a part-time caretaker, he sure seems to be around there a lot!"

"You think he’s up to something, man? The jewels, maybe?"

"I don’t know what I think," Joe admitted with a small laugh, "but whatever it is, whether it’s an unhealthy interest in the historic jewels, or just a case of taking his job awfully seriously, if he’s around there tonight, he’s going to put the kibosh on our scheme!"

"Seriously, dude!" Matt agreed, nodding vigorously. "But it’s the best we can come up with, so we’ll have to go with it."

Joe was immensely thankful to see no other cars, when they reached the lighthouse, not even the car which they’d spotted over the past few days. And there was no sign of the boat, in the calm waters of the Bay. If their quarry was around, they were keeping out of sight…or perhaps they’d moved on! Joe wasn’t sure whether that pleased or irritated him.

"Looks like it’s all clear, Frank," Joe murmured. "But let me look around a little bit before you get out. Let’s not take any unnecessary chances."

"Who are you, and what did you do with my younger brother?" came in muffled tones from the back seat.

"Very funny." Joe was tempted to stick out his tongue, but realized it would do him no good; Frank wasn’t able to see him at the moment. "Matt? Go ahead and do your thing. And make it look natural, okay? If there’s someone hanging around that we can’t see, you’ll blow it, if you look like you’re nervous about something!"

"I AM nervous," Matt complained. "But I’ll try to calm down, dude, and look natural," he added, with an attempt at his usual grin.

I wonder if he’s regretting coming out here to help us, or is rethinking the whole ‘adventure’ thing? This trip hasn’t been all that much fun for him. Joe shook his head a little – what he wanted right now was for Matt to be careful, and to stay out of the way when he needed to – to not take unnecessary risks! Well, he wanted him to accomplish his decoy tasks too, of course…that went without saying.

Joe pulled the car almost parallel with the lightkeeper’s cottage and parked as close as possible, heedless of the regulation parking spaces. This would allow Frank a straight shot, crawling or crouching low, from the Aztek’s back door to the front door of the cottage. He turned off the engine and opened his door.

"Matt," he spoke up, clearly, "I’m going over to the other side, to take another look at that secret room we found. And no," he added, in a lower tone, "I’m not going to go anywhere near that stupid trunk!" Or the armoire, either. With my luck, Emily could probably lock me inside the armoire, too!

"Do you want me to go with you, dude? You know, take some pictures of the room? I didn’t have the chance, last time we were here." Matt was playing his part with ease, all signs of nerves forgotten. Joe smiled.

"Nah, that’s okay. You can take some later, maybe. Right now, I’d rather you finished with the house."

"Okay, your wish is my command, master." Matt got out and headed for the cottage, leaving his door ajar.

Joe walked around to the far side of the lighthouse, but again, saw nobody. Were they wrong about all this? Well, there was always the possibility that the thieves – pirates? – were hiding out on the other side of the Bay, beyond eyeshot. Joe peered out across the gray waters, but saw no sign of the mysterious boat. Either the bad guys weren’t using it today – or they hadn’t arrived yet – or, worst scenario, they’d already left!

Satisfied that no one was in the area, Joe proceeded to walk back to the car, and opened the back passenger door. He retrieved his backpack from where it lay on the back seat, leaving the door open while he paused to watch Matt open the front door of the lightkeeper’s cottage…and very carefully didn’t watch as Frank moved in a rapid crouch from the Aztek to the cottage, and disappeared inside.

Part one, accomplished. Now, on to part two.

Figuring Frank and Matt were situated and on their own, Joe returned to the grassy area below the lighthouse once again, and searched out the hidden entrance to the secret room. Cautiously, he pulled up the turf, and steeled himself as he prepared to descend the ladder. The last time I went down here, I got locked in a trunk and nearly suffocated! What kind of idiot would go back on purpose? My kind, obviously. Joe Hardy, poster boy for Idiots-R-Us. He took several deep breaths in an attempt to calm his nerves; finally he felt ready to go. He scampered down the iron rungs of the crude ladder, and reached the hard-packed dirt floor below.

Reaching into his backpack, Joe pulled out a flashlight and switched it on. He crept silently down the short hallway to the little room at the end, panning his light around the walls and ceiling as he did so. To his utter surprise, when he reached the secret room, something had changed: the armoire and chair remained, but the trunk was gone!

"Now where the heck did that go?" he pondered. "Who’d take an old trunk – and why? Mr. Carter? Why would he want to move it?" He supposed it was possible, but he could think of no logical reason for it, and he noticed that the armoire was still there…ooooops!

The armoire, which had been tightly closed before, was standing half-open …and there appeared to be clothes hanging out of it, which most definitely hadn’t been the case previously! Joe cautiously pulled it fully open, then hastily stepped back – not wanting to risk getting shut in! After a moment, when nothing happened, he took a deep breath and moved closer once again. Using the utmost care, he moved the items of clothing he found – Emily had been seriously upset by him tampering with her clothing, last time around, and he didn’t want to risk setting off another visit and possible temper tantrum by his least-favorite apparition!

This is really strange, he thought, as he continued to move things, searching through the large piece of furniture. It looks like someone went through this recently. I know I didn’t open it when we were here last, and I’m positive Frank or Matt didn’t, either. We weren’t here long enough, at first – and I’m pretty sure they didn’t take time to mess with the armoire, when they were rescuing me! He looked around again, but could see nothing suspicious or out of place in the center area. A sudden thought made him turn the flashlight around the room, searching out the corners….

He was taken by surprise – as he turned towards the back corner of the room, Joe heard a noise behind him. Half-expecting it to be Emily, he started to swing about, wondering what she might look like caught in a flashlight’s beam. Transparent? Translucent? Would it startle her? He sensed something brushing against him, and before he could complete his turn, felt a glancing blow to his head. Blinking to try and clear his suddenly-graying vision, he fell to the ground, and the flashlight slipped from his grasp, sending white beams gyrating wildly around the room.

Abruptly, the light disappeared, and all was darkness.

The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The Hardy Boys Fan Fiction authors of the Hardy Detective Agency 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 original characters without express permission of the authors.