His head lay on something soft and pliable which allowed him to relax back into it and be warm as ever; even if it did still ache slightly, it wasn’t enough to keep him awake. Frank tugged his blanket and bedspread further up over his shoulders, then sighed and shut his eyes tightly, firmly intending to return to sleep immediately.

There was something I needed to do. The thought nagged at the back of his mind. It was something fairly important. Important or not, whatever it was, was no match for the siren call of sleep, and Frank was quite willing to succumb….

"Frank? You getting up?" The intrusive voice came from somewhere in the vicinity of his bedroom door. Frank merely burrowed further into his pillow and tried to ignore it. "Come on, Frank, I know you’re awake. Get up. We have to get going. We have work to do – important work."

Frank frowned and opened his eyes the merest slit, just enough to send a full-wattage glare in his younger brother’s direction. "Go away," he rasped, before closing his eyes again.

Instead of going away, Joe resorted to more invasive tactics. The overhead light was flipped on, and Frank groaned, putting his arm across his eyes to block out the brightness. He’s not playing fair – Mmmoooooommmm, Joe’s being mean! He would have shot another glare in Joe’s direction if he’d thought it would do any good, but years of experience told him it was of little use.

And Joe was right – he did have things to do. He remembered now. Such as turning in that little sack of jewels he’d neglected to give to Jeremy last night…such as finding the missing Mallory Rutledge, who had somehow managed to elude capture and was still running around loose, ready, willing and able to cause more trouble for people – perhaps even for himself and Joe. Such as calling Megan, who no doubt was wondering why he wasn’t at school today.

Heaving a long, heartfelt sigh and giving Joe a reproachful look which the younger Hardy blithely ignored, Frank sat up and knuckled his eyes forcefully to clear them of sleep. He opened them and tried for another full-bore glare at Joe – just for effect, although it seemed to have none; Joe just smiled at him sweetly – and then reluctantly got out of bed and stumbled across the room towards the bathroom.

"I’m up, I’m up, see?" he announced. "You can leave now." He squinted blearily at his younger brother. "Why are you so perky this morning anyway? I thought you were recovering from hypothermia, or bubonic plague or distemper, or something."

Joe gave him a disparaging look. "Distemper, huh…" His grin surfaced. "I slept like a log – I feel like a million bucks! Figured I’d get in the Aztek, go and get…." His voice trailed off.

Frank turned to look back at him, and halted, keeping the door to the bathroom open when he saw the stricken look of realization on Joe’s face. The Aztek. Uh-oh. I’m not the only one being forgetful this morning, obviously!

Joe groaned loudly and slammed the doorjamb with his hand in frustrated fury. He winced as the blow jarred his hand. "My CAR! Dammit, I completely forgot about the Aztek! Shoot, now I’ve got to talk to the insurance people, and now I’ve got no car, and—"

"I already called our insurance agent, Joe." Frank heard his mother’s voice from the hallway. "He’s working on it. And Vanessa called, earlier, before you were up. She wants you to call her. Frank, Megan called as well. And breakfast – well, brunch, I suppose – is ready when you’re dressed."

"Thanks, Mom, you’re super!" Joe was gone in a flash, stopping to give Laura a brief hug in passing before darting into his room.

Frank heard him banging around in his room for a few moments, then the familiar words: "Hey, babe," as Joe reached Vanessa by phone. Grinning at his younger brother’s mercurial temperament – he’s up and down like a yo-yo! – Frank turned on the water for his shower.

Ten minutes later Frank emerged from the bathroom feeling more human, and at least a bit more capable of taking on a new day. Clean, shaved and teeth brushed, he puttered about a bit, selecting clothes for the day. Call Megan, call Megan, he reminded himself, and glancing at his wristwatch, tried to recall where she would be now. He didn’t want to interrupt her while she was in class. And he wasn’t really sure just how much detail he wanted to go into about the night before – but then, she’d already talked to his mother, and probably would hear about it from Vanessa, if she hadn’t done so already.

Dressed, Frank straggled downstairs to the kitchen and settled himself at the table, pleasantly surprised to find one of his favorite breakfasts. Scrambled eggs, along with Laura’s made-from-scratch pancakes. Orange juice, sliced bananas, bacon, and BOTH maple and chocolate syrup for the pancakes! All right!

"Happy birthday, honey!" Laura kissed his forehead as she poured his juice.

"Thanks, Mom." Frank smiled up at her. "I’d sort of forgotten it was my birthday!"

"I’m not sure if we’ll be able to do much celebrating today," Laura went on, looking a little concerned. "There’s an awful lot of things that have to be done today, with all that happened last night – and of course, your dad’s not home. He’s due back tomorrow, though. Do you think we could hold off on a birthday dinner until then? Would you mind?"

"I don’t mind," Frank assured her. "You’re right, I’m going to be busy today. And I’m not sure I could stay awake for a celebration tonight anyway; I want to hit the sack early!"

"You really think you’re all right?" Laura pinned him with an assessing gaze.

"I’m fine, Mom. I’ve got a little bit of a residual headache from last night’s bang on the head, but other than that, I feel just fine."

Shambling footsteps announced Matt’s arrival in the kitchen; he was dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, but rubbing his eyes sleepily and looking as if he’d rather be in bed.

"Matt – you okay? You didn’t have to get up, you know." Frank was a little worried about his friend. "Why didn’t you stay in bed and sleep awhile longer?"

"Nah, I wanted to get up." Matt yawned and sank into a chair. "I had some really weird dreams this morning, and I’d just rather not risk any more, ya know? Besides—" he sniffed inquiringly. "I thought I smelled pancakes." Matt’s grin spread across his face as he spied the plateful on the table. "No way am I going to sleep through pancakes, dude! Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I’ve had homemade pancakes?"

"Nope." Frank chuckled. Laura, laughing too, swiftly set a plate and silverware in front of Matt.

"YEARS, man! Phil can’t make ‘em, and I certainly don’t cook ‘em, and Macey – well, let’s just say that I don’t love Macey for her culinary skills!" Matt reached for the pancakes and moved several to his plate, then added butter and a generous helping of maple syrup. "This is awesome, Mrs. H!"

A few minutes later, Joe appeared. Surveying the scene, he grabbed a plate and fork, then swept up half the remaining pancakes. Smirking, he snagged the chocolate syrup just as Frank was reaching for it.

"Hey!"

"Sorry, bro, you snooze, you lose." Joe held the syrup container just out of reach for a moment, then handed it back with a laugh. "Here you go, happy birthday. Vanessa says so too."

"Dude, it’s your birthday? I remember you saying it was coming up, but I didn’t know it was today! I’da gotten you something, if I had – Happy Birthday, man!"

"Don’t worry, Matt, I didn’t get him anything either," Joe quipped, stuffing a forkful of pancakes into his mouth.

"That’s nothing new," Frank observed with a smile, and got up to pour himself a cup of coffee.

"Hey!" Joe protested with his mouth full. "I always get you something!"

"Uh-huh. Socks. An occasional tie. Once I remember you gave me shoelaces." Frank held up the coffee pot, brows lifted inquiringly. Seeing both Joe and Matt nod with enthusiasm, he poured two more cups.

"It’s the thought that counts?" Joe ventured hopefully.

Frank laughed. "Maybe it is, since that’s your lame excuse for lame presents." He sat down again, dodging as Joe whapped him on the arm.

"Mom," Joe turned his attention to his mother, smiling his most beguiling smile. "Can I borrow your car? Since mine is still at the bottom of the bay? And what did the insurance agent say, anyway?"

"Yes, I suppose so," his mother replied. "One of the investigators is going to meet you at the lighthouse today; hopefully they’ll get your car fished out of the water fairly quickly. Maybe it won’t be a total loss, honey."

"There’s a police statement for them to check too," Joe reminded her. He turned to Frank and Matt. "We all need to give those, remember?"

Laura nodded her understanding, and poured herself another cup of coffee. Matt nodded as well, his mouth too full to speak. Frank didn’t bother; he was too busy snagging the last of the pancakes and drenching them in chocolate syrup.

Ah, now this is a birthday breakfast! Or, it will be, if I can keep Joe from hogging all the bacon! Forestalling Joe’s attempt to corral all the bacon, Frank took a couple of slices and chewed industriously on one while he thought about the day’s activities. I have to go to the police station, and give a statement about last night. I have to give the jewels to someone – Con, I suppose. Won’t he be surprised!? I should go out to the lighthouse; Joe might need a hand with all the stuff for his car.

His thoughts were interrupted by Joe’s abrupt departure. The younger Hardy pushed back his chair, grabbed a set of keys to Laura’s car from a hook near the back door, and was gone, yelling back, "Gotta run! Happy Birthday, Frank – come by the lighthouse later, okay?" Frank smiled and shook his head, and returned to his breakfast.

When he was finally finished, Frank got up and went over to his mother, who was putting things away and loading the dishwasher. "Thanks, Mom," he said, kissing her cheek fondly. "That was a great breakfast! I’d better get going. We have to run by the police station; I need to talk to Con." He paused to give her a keen look. "You’ll be okay here?"

Laura laughed. "Sweetie, I’m home alone a LOT, you know! Where did all this protectiveness come from? Scoot along now, and get your work done. I’ll see you this evening. Don’t forget to ask Megan to come for dinner tomorrow night, all right?"

"I won’t forget," Frank promised. "You about ready, Matt?"

"Yeah, dude, but gimme a minute to change clothes!" Matt pushed back his chair and started from the room, then turned back for a second. "Thanks again for the great breakfast, Mrs. Hardy!"

A short time later Frank and Matt parked in a visitor parking lot adjacent to the police station, and went inside. With the ease of long familiarity, Frank led the way to Con Riley’s cubicle, where they found the police detective sitting at his desk, frowning over paperwork.

Without preliminary, Frank calmly sat down in the visitor’s chair. Matt hovered behind him, looking slightly uncertain.

Con looked up from the form he was filling out. "Please, make yourself at home, Frank," he said sarcastically.

"Hey, I thought you wanted to take my statement about last night." Frank gave him a sweet smile. "You going to, or not?"

"When I have time I will." Riley returned his attention to the paperwork on his desk, although his mouth twitched a little.

Matt, somewhat incredulous at Frank’s flippant exchange with the detective, rolled his eyes, but exchanged impish grins with his friend. If Frank thought he could get away with being this sassy to a police officer, who was he to tell him to stop, after all?

"Con, I’ve got something to give to you," Frank said then. "I had them last night, but by the time we were rescued, I forgot about them." He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a leather pouch, worn and cracked with age. He laid it on Con’s desk.

Riley eyed it curiously. "What’s this?" He lifted the bag and tugged at the stiffened cord holding it shut. When he got the pouch open and peered inside, his dark brows shot up in shock. "HOLY COW!" he gasped. "Where did you get this?"

Frank grinned again. "In that cave where we were being held last night. They were tucked into a little niche in the rocks – behind the skeleton." He grimaced a little, remembering Erik’s demise. "I think they’re the French treasure that Cherise LeGault told us about," he explained to the dumbfounded Riley. "Legendary jewels that disappeared somewhere in the early 1900’s. They didn’t have anything to do with the skeleton that was there, other than that they were hidden behind it."

"That is so creepy," Matt chimed in softly. "To think of that crazy-sick light keeper stashing them there and never saying anything about the bones!"

"The jewels are supposed to be cursed," Frank added, dark eyes sparkling wickedly, and watched Con hastily return the gems to their pouch. "Con, I think that’s what the thieves were after all along," he continued more seriously. "There was a magazine article about them that came out not too long ago. It makes more sense than anyone actually trying to steal the prism lens – jewels are sturdy, portable, and worth more than the lens, without all the fuss involved!"

Con nodded and leaned back, his eyes still fixed on the innocuous-seeming little pouch on his desk top. "Okay," he sighed, "let’s have the statements, then."

Matt offered to let Frank go first, and gratefully accepted Con’s offer of another cup of coffee while he waited for his turn. Frank went with Riley into one of the interrogation rooms, and waited while the detective set up the tape recorder. Then he set about describing to Con what had occurred the previous night.

Frank was meticulous and detailed, but he did omit one small item – the way the shackle keys had gotten in their possession. "The wind was blowing quite hard, and it blew the keys to where Joe could reach them," he told Con. There was absolutely no way he was going to mention Emily to Con Riley! Con was open-minded and fair, a good friend, and pretty understanding, but Frank had the feeling that if he started talking about ghosts – homicidal, helpful, whatever – the police officer would be calling for the men in white coats immediately!

When they were through, Frank thanked Con for his time, and then spent the next quarter-hour drinking police station coffee and waiting while Matt went through the same procedure. He wasn’t worried about Matt spilling the beans about Emily; they’d already discussed that aspect on the way downtown!

"Con," he asked, when Matt was finished and they were ready to leave, "Has Joe been by today?"

Riley nodded affirmatively. "He was here earlier, but one of the other officers took his statement; I didn’t talk to him, other than to just say ‘hi.’ Now," he squared his shoulders, "you’re done; get outta here. I have real work to do." His smile removed the sting from his words. "Listen up, Frank, you guys try to stay away from pirates, treasure, and damp caves in the near future, huh?"

Frank grinned cheerfully. "We’ll do our best. Oh – any word on Mallory Rutledge, Con?"

"Nope," Riley shook his head, "but we’ll get her eventually."

When they reached the Saturn, Frank slid behind the wheel but didn’t start the motor; instead, he pulled out his cell phone. "I want to give Megan a call," he told Matt. "She should be out of class right now."

"Sure, dude, go ahead." Matt leaned back in the passenger seat and closed his eyes. "I’m gonna take a nap."

"About time you called," were Megan’s first words, and Frank chuckled.

"Caller ID takes all the fun out of this," he remarked.

"Never mind that, TELL ME what happened!" his girlfriend demanded.

Frank obliged, filling her in on everything which had happened the night before; his memory occasionally prodded by a soft comment from Matt. "Emily decided I hadn’t murdered her just in time," he noted. "But even without being her target, we almost bought it anyway! I’m glad you weren’t along, baby – no way do I want you in danger like that!"

"Maybe if I had been, you wouldn’t have been in danger like that," Megan commented dryly. "So what’s on for the rest of the day?"

"Well, I want to call the hospital and find out how Cherise is doing," Frank told her. "She was in pretty bad shape – although she did wake up before we left, last night. This morning, I mean. And we’re going to go out and join Joe at the lighthouse – they’re fishing his car out of the Bay."

"Thanks, baby. Oh, that reminds me, you’re invited over for a birthday dinner tomorrow night – if you wanna come, that is," he tossed off negligently.

"I think I could do that," she said thoughtfully. "Unless I get a better offer, of course – Frank, stop sputtering like that! Do you want to see me tonight?"

"I always want to see you," he responded fervently. "Maybe we could go out to dinner tonight, just the two of us."

"That sounds promising – I might like that. Although I assume you mean split a pizza? Or something equally romantic and high-class?" she teased.

"You keep it up and you’re buying, wherever it is," he grinned. "All right, sweets, I’ve got to go. Joe needs someone out there to hold his hand and commiserate with him over the loss of that Aztek!"

"Love you too – miss you!" Frank regretfully ended the call, and then was forced to whack Matt on the arm; his friend was chortling and making goo-goo-kissy-face noises.

"And I thought Macey and I were bad!" Matt snorted, and dodged another half-hearted smack aimed at his head.

They drove to Stone Point once again, and parked near the lighthouse. The lot was much fuller than usual, with vehicles of various official sorts parked there. Workers were already industriously dredging the bay, and had evidently been working for some time. Joe stood near, gazing sadly at the retrieved Aztek – water-logged and obviously ruined – which sat beside the lighthouse itself.

"Hey, bro."

"It’s totaled," Joe murmured forlornly. "Totally totaled. They mashed it up before they sent it over the cliff. And it looks like it got banged into the cliff and the rocks a few times, too."

"Hey, kiddo, I’m really sorry." Frank put a commiserating arm about Joe’s shoulders, but Joe shrugged him off.

"It was cursed, you know," he said disconsolately. "Totally cursed. Had to be repaired more times in six months than….Well, I’ll have to get a new car, I guess. The insurance should cover quite a bit of the replacement costs, although I guess I’ll have to load cargo for Jack for a few more months to pay off the rest. What do you think I should get?" he finished, looking from Frank to Matt.

"A tank!" Matt suggested, grinning.

"Excuse me, boys," a woman’s voice interrupted their conversation. Surprised, they turned to see a uniformed female police officer standing nearby. She had mousy brown hair mostly covered by a state patrol broad-brimmed hat, and wore mirrored sunglasses.

"Yes?" Frank said cautiously. "Can we help you?"

"Yes, I’m Officer Ann Cutter, from the State Patrol," the woman introduced herself. "I’m supposed to take a statement from you boys about the events which occurred here at the lighthouse lately. I’ve been working on a case which involves some rather ingenious thieves who try to steal eccentric items. Odd fancy plates, or large bells from church towers. I heard that there was some speculation that someone was after the lighthouse prism lens, which I understand is very pricey."

Joe shook his head, instinctively feeling wary. "I’m not sure," he hedged. "Personally, I think they were after something else, but we haven’t been able to determine what."

"Are you sure? Think hard," the woman persisted. "Did you find anything that thieves might be after, other than the lens? I understand that most of the objects in the light keeper’s cottage itself are more historical in value, rather than monetarily. Not worth that much, other than to historians and such. So the lens must be the only item of any value that someone might get a decent price for, on the black market. Correct?"

Frank was about to respond, when Joe, who had been staring rather hard at Officer Ann Cutter, suddenly put a hand in front of him and made an abrupt lunge toward the woman.

"It’s YOU!" he bellowed.

She instinctively jerked back, away from him – and then turned and sprinted for one of the state patrol cars. She was in it and driving away before the startled boys could react.

"Joe – what—"