"Hello, Vanessa?" Frank guessed, recognizing his brother’s ex-girlfriend’s voice. "Is that you?"

"It’s me, Frank." Frank raised his eyebrows. First she seemed nervous, now she sounded relieved. "Is Joe around?"

"Yes, he is. You wanna talk to him? I could-"

"No! I want to talk to you, Frank! We-We’re still not talking," Vanessa was saying softly. Now Frank was surprised. Through the corner of his eyes Frank glanced at the direction of the living room and saw that Joe was already unwrapping the gift. At last Joe’s come to his senses, he thought in satisfaction. For one second, he thought Joe wouldn’t accept Vanessa’s gift. It could be just what the two needed, for them to get back together. Joe needed Vanessa right now.

"Gee, Vanessa, I’m sure he would like to talk to you." Frank smiled. He turned around and lowered his voice a notch so that Joe wouldn’t listen in to the conversation. "After he’s finished unwrapping your gift, of course."

"Actually I wanted to ask you about-" Then there was a pause. A very long pause.

"Van?" Frank couldn’t understand Vanessa’s silence.

"What gift?"

As soon as the two words left her mouth, Vanessa heard an explosion, no, not an explosion, more like a pop, like cork popping off an extremely gaseous champagne bottle. Suddenly Frank gasped loudly and her heart jumped crazily as Frank let out a shout. Before she could say anything, she heard a loud thud at the other end and instantly the connection broke off.

Vanessa stood stunned with the phone in her hand, not comprehending what had just happened.

"Frank? Frank, what’s wrong? Answer me!!!"

But the only thing that answered her desperate cries was the monotonous dialling tone, frighteningly ominous after such a commotion beforehand and it truly struck a bolt of fear into her heart. And what made it all more frightening was that Frank had shouted Joe’s name before she got disconnected. And what was it Frank had said about a gift?

Something’s wrong, she thought frantically. Something’s wrong with Joe!!!

With a slam, Vanessa banged the phone down and picked it up again. With a shaky finger she punched in the Hardys’ number again and with a racing heart, she waited fearfully for the line to connect but when it did, she slammed the phone down again. All she got was a busy tone.

Darn, Vanessa cursed silently. She didn’t take longer than a second to decide what to do. Grabbing her jacket, she ran out of her room with the keys to her car in her hands. A few seconds later, the front door downstairs slammed shut.

"Joe!!!!!!"

Frank dropped the phone and ran, his heart thundering in his chest as the sound of someone coughing grew louder and louder. He could no longer see Joe, meaning that Joe was either outside-or he was down.

The sight that awaited him at the living room took his breath away. Joe was lying unmoving on the carpeted floor between the couch and the coffee table, his eyes closed. Lying just a mere foot away from him was a metal container, much like the ones you can find in supermarkets, but what struck Frank for one second as strange was the puffs of whitish cloud billowing out from it. His bafflement was immediately replaced by horror when he caught a whiff of the fumes, which immediately seized his chest. The fumes enveloping Joe were so thick they swirled over his head and Frank realized that Joe was suffocating.

"Joe!!!" Frank coughed violently, and his eyes started watering. Whatever the thing was, it was a killer. Damn, he should have known this was coming, Frank thought as he dropped down on his knees next to his brother. Frank held his breath painfully as he slid an arm under Joe’s chest and around his body. With all his might, he pulled Joe up and dragged him away from the deadly fumes, every breath he took stabbing his lungs like a thousand knives. Joe’s head lolled lifelessly against his chest and Frank’s heart pounded crazily in terror when he tried not to imagine what the fumes were doing to Joe.

After laying Joe down gently a few metres away from the canister, Frank dashed to the kitchen and came back with a water hose connected to the pipe. He no longer cared whether it was the right thing to do; he recognized the pungent and sharp fumes of hydrochloric acid, highly corrosive and deadly. And the clear fluid leaking out and eating away at the fibres of the carpet confirmed his suspicion. Frantically, he leaped onto the sofa and as the water spurted from the hose in great torrents diluting the acid, he kept glancing at his brother who was deathly still and showing no signs of life. He was painfully aware of each precious second ticking by and the moment he was sure no more fumes were coming out from the container, he threw the hose down.

Not even bothering to turn the water off, Frank kicked the hose away and as it writhed and twisted like a snake, spurting water to every direction, Frank leaped down to his brother’s side. Joe’s face was deathly pale. Frank pressed two fingers against the side of Joe’s neck. No pulse! Frank’s heart jolted. No, this isn’t happening!!!

Frank immediately administered mouth-mouth resuscitation to his brother and with every breath he blew down Joe’s throat he prayed. Come on, Joe, breathe. Joe’s chest rose with every breath of air and then it fell. When it didn’t rise again, Frank blew harder. He pumped on Joe’s chest harder.

"Come on, Joe!!!!!" he yelled. "Breathe, damn it!!!"

Joe remained motionless, his face a frightening shade of grey.

No, I won’t let you die, Frank thought grimly. Not now, not like this.

Frank applied the mouth-to-mouth resuscitation all over again and as he feverishly worked to save his brother’s life, his eyes began to water.

"Come on, Joe, please, he begged silently. Please, breathe.

"Sir, this report just came in from the forensics," a young officer said, putting down a folder on Fenton Hardy’s desk. "Dr. Ridgewick said to pass it to you at once."

"Thank you, Danny." After the officer left, Fenton reached for the file and flipped through it. His eyes narrowed as he read through the first page. Then his eyes went wide as he went to the second. By the time he finished reading through the detailed report he was genuinely baffled. This doesn’t make sense, he thought in confusion. How could this be?

Fenton reached for the phone and stabbed on a button, his face tense as he waited for the line to connect.

"Danny, get through to the Swedish embassy. Ask them for the records for Tessa McCaffrey and Craig Henderson, yes, the exchange students and I want everything on the records, their personal details, family backgrounds, medical history, anything and EVERYTHING. And I want it now," he snapped.

After hanging up, Fenton stared down at the open file in front of him. This new information put a whole new light on the whole case. His mind racing, Fenton grabbed a pen and started scribbling furiously in his notebook.

Frank blew more air down Joe’s airway, aware of the tears threatening to spill. Joe had stopped breathing for nearly 3 minutes, which was long enough to cause severe brain damage due to lack of oxygen. Forcefully, Frank pumped hard on Joe’s chest, his own heart pounding like crazy.

Frank was on the verge of losing all hope when suddenly Joe let out a small cough. In his panic, Frank thought he’d just imagined it until Joe let out another one. Then another. And soon Joe was coughing violently, gasping painfully for precious air.

"Joe!!!" Frank shouted his brother’s name in relief, leaning down and helping his brother to sit up. He cradled Joe in his arms and Joe buried his head into Frank’s chest, trembling as a great cough after another racked his frame.

"Fra-annk…" Joe gasped out weakly.

"Shh, Joe, don’t try to talk," Frank admonished his brother gently. "Just concentrate on breathing."

Joe nodded, whimpering a little as he struggled to draw in his breath. Frank could see it was extremely painful for Joe even to suck in a little breath but he had to get all the fumes out of his system. Just then he heard the sound of engine zooming down the street, getting louder and louder and died as it stopped outside the Hardys’ home. Please let that be Dad, Frank prayed. Joe needs to go to the hospital.

"Frank, my chest-" Joe grabbed his chest weakly. "-it hurts."

"I know, Joe-Vanessa?"

Vanessa Bender’s eyes went wide as she caught the sight of Joe clinging to his brother for dear life in the middle of the living room. "What happe-"

"I need to use your car," Frank interrupted.

"What happened, Frank?" Vanessa asked right after Joe was rushed into the emergency room. Joe had had difficulty breathing again on the way to the hospital but thankfully they managed to get there in time. Vanessa was too worried about Joe to even care about her reservations of feelings for him. Seeing Joe like that-Vanessa was just thankful that Joe was still alive.

Frank sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes. "Where do you want me to start?"

Both of them sat down on the chairs in the waiting room and that was where Frank told her. Vanessa gasped when Frank told her what had happened to Tessa.

"Oh my God, Frank," Vanessa said dully, shaking her head in disbelief. "First those kids, then Craig, now Tessa?" Poor Tessa, she thought. As much as Vanessa disliked her, she wouldn’t wish this on anybody, not even her worst enemy. She could understand how upset Joe must be, and though it hurt her to admit it, she knew she wanted Tessa to be alright, for Joe’s sake, if not for her. The thought that Tessa could be dead churned her stomach. Two of the victims were people she knew. And would there be more?

"Who could have done this to Joe?" Vanessa asked loudly.

"And what could he-or she-possibly want from him?"

Frank was genuinely puzzled. He had thought the killer was after him, not Joe and now he wasn’t so sure anymore.

Frank was about to say something but suddenly his phone rang. "Hello?"

"Hello, Frank."

"Hi, Dad," Frank said tensely. How was he going to explain this mess to his father? "Dad, I-"

"Frank, where have you been? I tried calling home several times and no one answered-"

"Dad, we’re at the hospital."

"What happened?" Fenton snapped as he rushed into the waiting room of Bayport General a half hour later. Frank and Vanessa stood abruptly. "How’s Joe?"

Frank gestured toward the double doors of the emergency room behind him. "He’s still in there."

Fenton rubbed his face wearily. He had grown tired of this. Countless times he had stood in this place, at the very same spot, worrying, fidgeting, waiting anxiously for news. Sometimes he even played with the thought of moving to someplace nearer the hospital since his family seemed to be spending a lot of time there, either as the patient or the worrier. "What’s wrong with him now?"

Frank sighed again. Like his father, he was tired too. He was tired of psychos going after his family and hurting the people he loved. "Someone tried to kill him, Dad."

For the second time that night, Frank recounted what had happened, not leaving a single detail out. Fenton’s face went pale at how close he’d come to losing his son. Who could have done it?

"Who could it be?" Vanessa was the one who voiced his question out loud. She was just as puzzled as the Hardys. Was the attack even related to the murder case they were investigating? Whoever it was, he or she knew Frank and Joe well, at least well enough to know about Vanessa and Joe. And the signature on the envelope, which she had picked up on the way out of the house, bore great resemblance to her own, and it sent a chill down her spine to know that someone had apparently kept an eye on them, on her. To think that someone had framed her to get to Joe was infuriating. But as furious as she was, she couldn’t help feeling a little afraid. And Vanessa Bender hated being afraid.

"Mr Hardy?" A female voice called from behind them. The ER had apparently paged Dr Hudson, Joe’s trauma doctor to take a look at Joe.

"How’s my brother, Dr Hudson?" Frank asked anxiously. "Is he alright?"

"At the moment, his condition is still critical and he gave us quite a scare in the ER just now-" Dr Hudson gave a little smile as Frank’s face turned pale. "- But he’s been stabilised and we’re taking his X-rays right now to see if there’s further damage to his lungs caused by the fumes, just to be on the safe side. We’re putting him on oxygen and we’d like to keep him overnight for observation, if that’s okay with you, Mr Hardy. I seriously recommend it."

"By all means, Doctor, go ahead as long as Joe recovers," Fenton said, "So will he be alright?"

"I don’t see why not. Though I have to say he came very close to losing his life. If Frank hadn’t been there…I shudder to think of what might have happened," the doctor said. "But I suggest you wait for a while before going up to see him. He’s still very weak and he really needs his rest."

Frank was relieved. At least Joe was going to be okay. And that was all that mattered right now. For a moment when Joe had stopped breathing he thought that his nightmare was coming true. But it didn’t and Frank couldn’t thank God enough for that.

"What?" Frank nearly choked on his coffee. He simply couldn’t believe what his father was saying. "You’re kidding!" The three of them were sitting in one table at the hospital cafeteria. After ordering some coffee and pastries, they had sat down and the discussion hadn’t gone very far when Fenton decided to break the news to Frank and Vanessa.

Vanessa’s reactions were the same as Frank’s. "But how can that be?" She asked, her blue-grey eyes wide with disbelief.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute, I-I’m trying to see if I’m getting this," Frank said, raising his hand. He gazed at his father intensely. "Dad, the other day you said that the blood found at the crime scene was Tessa’s."

Fenton Hardy nodded gravely, waiting for his son to continue.

"And then you found out that the blood was two weeks old," Frank said slowly. "Meaning the blood was stale?" Fenton nodded again.

"And now you say the blood was not Tessa’s at all?" Frank narrowed his eyes

Fenton nodded again. "Actually it was Tessa’s blood. The real Tessa McCaffrey."

"Wait, I don’t understand." Now it was Vanessa’s turn to interrupt. "What do you mean the real Tessa McCaffrey?"

Fenton took a deep breath. He leaned down sideways and picked up his briefcase. A while later, he handed a few bulky folders to Frank and Vanessa.

"The blood found at the crime scene matched the blood type of Teresia McCaffrey, who happened to have the blood type AB and this is stated in the records…her medical records and certificates which the Swedish embassy had cooperatively obtained for us. When we discovered that the blood was actually stale, meaning it was older than it looked, we came to the conclusion that it couldn’t possibly belong to Tessa so we looked into the matter and this is what we found out."

Fenton took put another folder from his briefcase and put it on the table. "This is the data of Bayport High students who had donated blood for the blood drive in the past two weeks. Tessa was one of them."

In dismay, Frank realized what his father was getting at. "A different blood type."

"The Tessa you knew had blood type O."

The figure in black stood watching from afar, and icy-cold eyes narrowed. The plan had failed again, just like it had the other day. Hmm, maybe I’m losing my touch.

It was just a matter of time before the famous Hardys work out all the clues. It surprises me that they’re taking this long, though. I’ve given them enough clues to shame all serial killers of my time but still they can’t figure it out. And it’s right under their noses!!!

Hmm, maybe I haven’t lost my touch after all. With a little shake of the head, the figure let out a laugh and heads from the nearest tables turned. An evil eye and the heads quickly turned back to their previous positions.