For a second, they froze, staring at each other. Then Megan turned about, ran a few steps and yanked open a door. "Cleaning closet," she hissed, beckoning the Hardys frantically. "Quick!"

Frank and Joe moved fast, sneaker-clad feet silent on the carpeting. Frank shoved Joe in first, then Megan; he slipped in and silently pulled the door shut, just as they heard footsteps approaching their hiding place. They stood perfectly still, in total darkness, waiting.

To his horror, Frank realized that whoever the person was, he or she was stopping right beside them! He breathed shallowly through his mouth, trying to be totally silent. Behind him, he could feel Megan holding her breath, rigid with tension. There was the clear sound of keys jingling, a lock clicked, and then the footsteps proceeded into the room right next to their closet and a door closed.

Frank let himself relax a little, panting to catch his breath. Megan exhaled softly and took a deep breath. From the depths of the darkness behind them, came a soft, pain-filled whisper:

"Damn!"

Frank turned on his penlight, cupping the head with his fingers so that only the tiniest bit of light leaked through. "What’s wrong?" he breathed, turning just a little toward his brother.

"Something’s jabbing me in the back, right where I got hit Friday night…and Megan’s standing on my foot." Joe replied, barely audible. He was gasping a little; obviously he wasn’t kidding about hurting.

"Don’t move for just a second." Frank let a little more light through, and they surveyed their quarters. A mop pail and mop – which was what Joe had encountered – a large push-broom, and boxes and packages of paper goods: paper towels, bath tissue, Styrofoam coffee cups. "Okay, now we can shift." With the interior of the closet visible, they were able to move slightly apart. Megan inched her way forward, removing her foot from Joe’s, and he heaved a sigh of relief.

"Thanks. You’re little, but not that little!" He rubbed his back gingerly, where the mop had pushed in.

"I’m sorry!" she hissed. "I couldn’t see a thing!"

Through the walls of their prison, they could now hear someone talking. The voice was somewhat muffled, but Megan cocked her head, listening.

"That sounds like Ted Crowley." she whispered.

"What’s he doing here at 3:00 in the morning?" Joe wondered. "Wish we could hear what he’s…." his voice trailed off. Frank followed his brother’s intent gaze, and found he was staring at the box of coffee cups. "It’s not a stethoscope, but…"

Luckily, the box was already open. Frank reached down and eased two of the cups out. He handed one to Joe, and the two boys silently set the cups against the shared wall, then leaned to press their ears against the other end. Once again holding his breath, Frank listened intently. As Joe had said, it wasn’t a stethoscope, but the words were a little clearer now.

"…You’re going to have to search that house again! It’s got to be somewhere in there! Wright didn’t have time to hide it anywhere else; it has to be in his house!….What?….No, I don’t think his wife or girl have found it; if they had, they might have gone to the police with it…Well, I don’t give a rip about that – so she’s seeing some guy, is there a problem with that?….Huh?…Hardy? Those brats of Fenton Hardy’s?….Oh, hell! Put a tail on them, then and see what’s up. And get back into Wright’s house soon, and find that tape!" There came the audible bang of a receiver being slammed back into its cradle, and the voice was reduced to barely-heard mutterings, accompanied by the sounds of desk drawers being yanked open and shut.

Frank put his cup back into the box. "Come on," he breathed. "We’ve got to get out of here, now!" He eased the door open, tiptoed out, and headed around the corner, closely followed by Megan and Joe. Miraculously, the elevator stood open; they dived in and hit the button for the first floor.

When the doors opened, the three dashed for the front doors. Megan checked to be sure they were unlocked and the alarm turned off, before she shoved the push-bar down. They darted toward the lot where the Hardys’ van was parked, running as silently as possible.

Both Frank and Joe had their keys out. Frank went to the driver’s side, swiftly unlocking it, while Joe did the same with the sliding side door. As Frank jumped into his seat and put the key in the ignition, Joe picked Megan up bodily, tossed her across the seat, and flung himself in after her.

"Floor it, bro!" he gasped, and slammed the sliding door.

Frank already had the gears engaged, but he didn’t ‘floor it,’ instead he drove sedately across the parking lot and out into the street. Once there, he switched on the headlights and continued at a normal pace through the nearly-deserted streets. When he was several blocks away from the industrial park, he pulled the van over and parked.

"We’re trying to be inconspicuous, remember? If I’d peeled out of there like you wanted me to, everyone within blocks would have heard it." He glanced in the rear-view mirror at the back seat, then turned around to view it more closely. "And if you don’t want me pulled over for a questionable morals check, Joe, get up off of Megan."

Cheeks aflame, Joe raised himself to a sitting position, glad for the dimness of the van’s interior. Megan stayed flat, and for a terrifying moment he was afraid he’d hurt her when he tossed her into the seat. "You okay, Megan?" he asked, putting a tentative hand on her back.

She was shaking, and Joe’s concern increased – and then he realized she was laughing, giggling so hard she was unable to speak. Finally, she sat up, tears of laughter streaking her face.

"I’m – I’m fine – that was – " the giggles bubbled again, and the boys found themselves grinning in response. "that was absolutely incredible! I can’t believe we got away with it." Her laughter was contagious, and both Joe and Frank began to chuckle, then laugh harder. For a minute or two, nearly hysterical shrieks filled the van. Finally, Megan managed to control her giggles. She brushed wet streaks from her cheeks with her fingers and tossed back her curls. "You two really try to live up to your reputations, don’t you?"

Frank sighed with relief. "Not on purpose! Jeez, Megan, you had us scared for a minute."

"Yeah," Joe chimed in. "I thought I’d killed you or something, flinging you on the seat like that."

"I’m tougher than I look," she reassured him. She reached for the seat belt, to buckle in. Joe considered snuggling into the seat beside her, but a glance at his older brother made him change his mind. He wriggled between the front bucket seats and buckled himself into the passenger seat.

"Whaddya say we go get a pizza?" he suggested. "Breaking and entering always gives me an appetite."

"Joe, it’s after 3 a.m." Frank protested. "Nobody’s open at 3 a.m. Besides, I want to go home and go to bed."

"Spoilsport," Joe sulked. However, he had to admit Frank was right; nothing was open. Megan reached forward and patted his shoulder sympathetically.

"It’s okay, Joe," she said. "We’ll get pizza some other time."

As Frank drove to Megan’s house, they talked of plans for the next day.

"We can develop those photos tomorrow morning – I mean, this morning." Joe said. "And you could come over in the afternoon and we’ll start going over the files. Say, would you mind if we brought in some reinforcements? My girlfriend Vanessa’s got a pretty good eye for reading files."

"Of course not," she replied. "Bring a whole troop, if you want to."

"It’s not just the files, now." Frank interposed. "Crowley said something about your dad having a tape, Megan. That’s what whoever-it-was was searching for when your house was broken into. And it sounds like they may do it again." He thought it better not to mention Crowley’s instructions to have Megan – and them – tailed, or the fact that he and Joe had already been identified; at least not right now.

"A tape," Joe muttered. "Audio tape? Video tape? Duct tape? Scotch tape?"

"Don’t get carried away," his brother admonished affectionately. "It’s got to be either audio or video."

"I’ll start looking as soon as I get home," Megan promised.

"Don’t do that." Joe said. "Like Frank said, it’s after 3 a.m. Get some sleep."

"I suppose you’re right," she admitted. As if mentioning sleep had triggered something, she yawned, deeply, and all three of them broke into laughter once more.

"Call me tomorrow, and we’ll set a time for you to come over." Frank told her, when they pulled up in front of Megan’s home. She nodded sleepily, and slid across the seat.

Joe leaped out and pulled the sliding door open for her, and she got out, yawning again.

Frank, moving quickly, yanked open his door and hurried around the back of the van to take her arm. "You’re practically asleep on your feet," he chided, guiding her toward the front door. "Get in there and get to bed."

"Okay – I – I will," she mumbled through another yawn. Then, as she unlocked the door and Frank turned to go, she caught his arm. "Frank?"

"Hmmm?" he said, turning back.

"Thank you." Megan went on tiptoe, reached, caught the back of his head, and pulled downward. When he was within reach, she pressed her lips against his for a brief moment, then released him. "Thank you so much. Good night." Then she was gone, and the door clicked shut.

Frank stood frozen, still feeling the kiss. It was only when Joe shook his arm impatiently that he snapped out of his daze. The two boys walked silently back to their van, climbed in, and drove home without exchanging another word.

"You okay, bro?" Joe asked finally, as he swung the van into the Hardys’ driveway.

"Hmmm? Oh, yeah – yeah, I’m fine." Frank replied. Joe glanced over, considered Frank’s bemused face for a moment, then grinned wickedly. Goodbye, Callie – and good riddance!