When the police finally finished with them, Joe went to the parking garage and pulled the car up to the stage entrance of the theater. Before they even made it on the road good, Frank was fast asleep, his head resting on Becka’s shoulder.

The trip home was made in relative silence, until Becka asked, "Are dates with you guys always this exciting?"

Vanessa laughed softly. "Most of the time! You should try going on vacation with them sometime."

"Yeah," Joe agreed. "We’re the only people I know who need vacations from our vacations!"

Frank woke up when they dropped Vanessa off, and talked quietly with Becka all the way back to Elm Street.

After Joe pulled into the Hardys driveway, Frank walked Becka home. They stopped on the porch while Becka looked for her house key. She pulled it out and stuck it in the lock, then turned to Frank. "I had a wonderful time, Frank."

Frank smiled. "I did too. Next time, I’ll try not to drag you into a murder investigation."

Becka returned the smile, and Frank found himself leaning down. He gently kissed her. "Goodnight, Becka."

"Good night." And with that, Becka slipped into the house.

Frank smiled to himself as he walked across the street and into the house. I definitely want to get to know this girl! he thought.

The brothers slept late the next morning. When they finally stumbled downstairs, the rest of the family was at church. Laura had left a note saying there was waffle batter in the fridge. Frank heated up the waffle iron, and they had a leisurely breakfast.

When the rest of the family returned home, Frank and Joe were grilled about their evening. The leading news story that morning was the death of Clancy Barrett.

"Are you going to get involved?" Fenton asked.

"Been there, done that, Dad," Joe grinned.

"Yeah. We’ve already solved the case and turned it over to Chief Peterson." Frank snatched the comic page out of Joe’s lap and settled down in the overstuffed chair in the corner of the room.

Fenton smiled and shook his head as he walked into his office. "Why does that not surprise me?"

The next Saturday, Frank and Joe received a visit from Detective Riggs.

"What brings you out here, Detective?" Frank asked when they were seated in the living room.

"I thought you might like to hear the motives behind the murder." Frank and Joe leaned forward in their seats as Riggs related what they’d learned from Evan Williams and Benjamin Whittington’s confessions.

"It seems Clancy Barrett and Kendrith Whittington used to be very good friends, and were roommates at Juliard. Then they fell in love with the same girl."

"Olivia Moreau," Joe stated.

"Right. Clancy ended up winning Olivia, and every major competition that he and Kendrith were in together. Kendrith apparently became very bitter about the whole thing, and lapsed into a suicidal depression. He dropped out of Juliard, and that’s when his father began blaming Clancy. He thought Kendrith would be the next Mozart."

"He committed suicide, right?" Frank asked.

Riggs nodded. "Olivia found his body, and the suicide note. In the note, he pledged his eternal love to her."

Joe sighed. "Poor guy. There’s more to life than girls."

Frank couldn’t resist. "Really? Since when?" That got him a slap on the leg.

Riggs chuckled, then continued. "Whittington was the one who pushed to get Clancy onboard for the revue. At this point, we think he’s been planning this for years. When he saw that Williams was taken with Ms. Moreau, he used that to his advantage. He knew that Evan’s parents owned a pharmacy in the area.

"He convinced Evan to get the poison from his parents’ pharmacy. Evan is one troubled young man. Whittington chose chloral hydrate, and systematically poisoned Mr. Barrett."

"That’s sad," Joe remarked. "Clancy was truly an artist on the piano."

Frank nodded in agreement. Joe owned a Gershwin CD that Clancy had recorded, and he was a gifted pianist. Riggs nodded as well, then told them about the evidence they’d found at Whittington’s townhouse.

The entire place was a shrine to Kendrith. Whittington had kept detailed notes of all of his plans, and would be convicting himself of the murder.

"I can’t help feeling sorry for Whittington though," Frank said. "His whole world must have shattered when his son died, and he shattered with it."

Riggs nodded in agreement. It was sad. Three great musical talents had been lost because of hurt feelings.

Two hours later, after Riggs had left, Joe wandered into the dining room and sat down at the piano bench. The opening strains of Rhapsody in Blue soon filled the house.

Frank settled down on the couch for a nap, wondering what their next case would be. And thankful that this performance of the Rhapsody would not end with a murder.

The End