An hour later Joe was finished mowing. Frank was still asleep, so Joe took his shower as quietly as he could, then went back downstairs. Fenton was wrapping up some loose ends on a case in Southport, and his mother was outside, so Joe had the house to himself for the moment. He glanced around, then went into the dining room and sat down at the piano. He’d been so busy the last few months that he hadn’t had time to play and he missed it.

He played through some of his favorites, then pulled out the music for Gershwin’s "Rhapsody in Blue". He was determined to play the entire thing someday and he had parts of it almost memorized. But there were still places he was having trouble with. He became so engrossed in the music that he failed to hear his parents come in. They both decided to leave him alone, and let him relax.

Across the street at the Nickerson home, a late model gold Grand Am GT pulled into the driveway. A young man stepped out and stretched, then a pretty blonde-haired girl got out. "Ned, it’s even better than the pictures!" she remarked as she joined him in front of the car.

Ned slipped his sunglasses off and took a good look at his new home. "I guess it’ll do." He dodged a playful punch from his companion and the two went inside. "Mom, Dad! I’m home!" he called out.

Becka came running down the stairs and hugged her brother tightly. "How did you get here so soon? We didn’t expect you until next week!"

Ned pulled away from his sister and hugged his parents, then Alan. "I got done early and decided to surprise you."

Mary Nickerson smiled at her son, then hugged the young woman beside him. "Hello, Nancy. It’s good to see you."

Nancy hugged her back. "It’s good to see you to."

"Where’s my room?" Ned asked, interrupting. "I have a lot of stuff to unload."

"Up the stairs on the left"

Ned ran up the stairs with Nancy right behind him. Becka followed. The guestroom was at the head of the stairs. Alan’s room was next to the guestroom, on the back side of the house. Ned’s room faced the front of the house. The first thing he said was, "This color has got to go!" He looked around at the lavender walls and grimaced, then turned to his mother. "We’re going paint shopping tomorrow after church."

"Alright," she agreed. Ned didn’t say anything else, so she left him alone.

Nancy put her arms around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder. "Are you OK?" she asked softly.

Ned sighed. "Yeah. I guess it’ll take some getting used to. Especially not having you around."

Nancy squeezed him. "We’ll make it." She turned him around and kissed him. "Let’s get that car of yours unloaded."

Ned smiled at his girl, and two hours Ned deemed his room livable. Nancy left to settle her things in the guestroom, and Becka sprawled across Ned’s bed. "How’s Bayport?" he asked as he began setting up his computer.

"I’m starting to like it. The beach is only a mile away. All the people I’ve met so far are nice." She twirled a strand of hair around her finger and gazed out the window.

Ned turned around to look at his sister. "And?" He raised an eyebrow. "Surely you have a guy stashed around here somewhere."

"Sort of. He lives across the street."

"Do I get to know his name?" Ned turned back to his desk, waiting for an answer.

Becka sat up. "Oh, I don’t know. It’s kind of a one-sided thing right now."

"Really?"

Becka nodded. "His girlfriend dumped him last Saturday. His brother says he’s taking it pretty hard."

"You still haven’t told me his name, my dear little sister."

"His name’s Frank Hardy."

Ned froze. When his parents had told him they were moving to Bayport, Connecticut he had failed to connect the Hardy brothers. Bayport was where they’d grown up. Ned slowly turned and stared at his sister. "Frank Hardy?"

Becka nodded, not understanding why Ned was so upset. "Yeah, Frank Hardy. What’s wrong with that?"

"What’s wrong with it?" Ned repeated. "Becka, they’re trouble-magnets! People try to blow them up!"

Becka’s eyes narrowed. This was not like Ned. "And how do you know that?"

"Nancy knows them, Beck. Every time she’s with them she almost gets killed or seriously hurt. They’re dangerous!"

"As far as I know no one has ever died dating a Hardy," Becka shot back.

"That’s where you’re wrong, sis. Joe’s first girlfriend, Iola Morton was killed by a bomb meant for them." Ned crossed his arms and stared at his sister. There was silence.

"How do you know that?" she finally asked.

He sat down on the bed next to her. "Frank told me when I went with Nancy to Padre Island on spring break that time."

"Oh."

Ned put his arm around her. "I just don’t want you to get hurt."

"I know." Becka stood to leave. "But you better get used to them being around, because we’re all going over to their house at four."

"You’re kidding!"

Becka shook her head. "Fraid not. And Mom really likes Mrs. Hardy." Then she disappeared.

Ned fell back on his bed and stared at the ceiling. "What did I do to deserve this?"

Joe put his arm around Vanessa as they sat on the swing. She rested her head on his shoulder. "What was wrong with Frank yesterday?" she asked softly.

Joe sighed before answering. "I found him coming out of the bathroom. He must’ve gotten sick. After we got home he went straight to sleep and stayed asleep until a couple of hours ago. Then he came downstairs and scared the living daylights out of me!"

Vanessa giggled. She could just imagine Joe jumping up and almost freaking out. "What were you doing?"

"Working on the Rhapsody. I didn’t hear him come up behind me." Vanessa was the only person outside his family that knew Joe still played the piano. She also shared his love of old jazz and Gershwin tunes.

"How are you holding up?"

Joe pushed with his foot to get the swing moving. "I’m OK. I think. Frank still hasn’t figured out how to tell the rest of the gang, though. I think Callie’s reaction scared him."

Vanessa sat up. "Speaking of Callie."

Joe rolled his eyes. "Oh, brother!"

Vanessa slapped his leg and he put on his hurt puppy dog look. Vanessa smiled cheekily at him. "I called her this morning. A guy whose voice I have never heard answered the phone."

"She told Frank she’d met someone else already. Maybe it was him." Joe scooted out of his girlfriend’s immediate reach.

"That’s what I thought, too, Mr. Detective." Vanessa followed him and settled against his shoulder again. "He sounded older though. It was kind of strange."

"Van, can we talk about something less depressing?"

Vanessa looked up into Joe’s sapphire blue eyes. "Like what?" Joe just smiled as he bent his head to kiss her.

At that moment, Frank cleared his throat. Joe looked up and glared at him. Frank just grinned. "Mom wants to know if you cleaned the grill."

"Yes. I scrubbed the grill. Even Aunt Gertrude would deem it clean!"

Frank nodded and raised one eyebrow. "I’m impressed, little brother."

Joe threw one of the swing’s pillows at his brother. Frank dodged it and went back inside. He’d been standing there long enough to hear what Vanessa had said about Callie. "I will not cry," he whispered fiercely to himself as he went up the stairs.

He sat down on the sofa in the playroom. It hadn’t been a real playroom in years, but the name had stuck. The boys used it when their friends were over, and for watching movies. The TV cabinet held a state-of-the-art DVD system. Frank’s acoustic and electric guitars were in there also.

Frank leaned back and sighed. In spite of what he’d told himself, he could feel tears burning in his eyes. He forced his mind to think about something besides Callie. This last week had been one of the worst of Frank Hardy’s life. He hadn’t thought this many bad things could happen to one person in less than a week. Even a Hardy! I’ve sure picked a lousy day to fall apart! he thought bitterly.

Frank wandered into his room and started a chess game on his computer, but he found himself unable to concentrate. He abandoned the game, not even bothering to save it. He went back to the playroom and picked up his guitar. He adjusted the strings a little and tuned it, then started playing. He hadn’t played in far too long, and he felt himself relaxing. That finally worked. He found himself concentrating more and more on what he was playing, and less on Callie and his leukemia.

Laura could hear him in the kitchen. Frank hadn’t touched his guitar in months. Both boys had been so busy lately. "Maybe this is a good thing," she remarked as Fenton walked into the kitchen.

He out his arms around her from behind. "Why is that?"

Laura leaned back into her husband’s arms. "We’re all going to have to slow down. Especially the boys. They need a break, Fen."

"I could use a break from globe-hopping too." Fenton turned his wife around and kissed her, ignoring the doorbell.

Joe finally got up to answer it when he realized his mother was ignoring it. He found the Nickersons waiting on the front porch. He opened the door wide to let them in, then his mouth dropped open when he saw Ned.

"Staring is rude, Joe," Nancy told him as she gave him a hug.

Joe came to his senses and hugged her back. "Sorry. I guess I didn’t put two and two together when I heard Nickerson and River Heights."

Vanessa came up behind him. "He’s having a prolonged lapse of brain function. I’ve heard it happens every year after finals." Joe gave her a dirty look and she smiled sweetly at him.

Nancy laughed. "I can believe that. You must be Vanessa."

Vanessa smiled at Nancy. "And you must be Nancy Drew."

Nancy nodded, the turned to Joe. "Where’s Frank?"

"Upstairs."

Nancy looked at Ned and smiled as if to say ‘don’t worry’, then went upstairs. Ned took a deep breath. He and Nancy had had a long talk about Frank Hardy earlier. Now he just had to remember everything she’d told him when Frank came down the stairs.

Nancy saw Frank sitting on the sofa, a guitar in his hands. He was playing something softly. Nancy knew he played, but she didn’t know he played that well. "Hi, Hardy," she said.

Frank looked up in the direction of the voice. He smiled. "Hey, Drew! What brings you here?"

She went into the room. "Not much. No case or anything like that."

Frank just nodded and didn’t say anything. Nancy watched him closely, her detective instincts taking over unbidden, and knew that something was wrong. "Something wrong, Frank?"

She saw a muscle in his jaw twitch as he stood and put his guitar away. "Callie and I-." But he couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence.

"Broke up?" Nancy asked gently. Frank nodded. "I’m so sorry, Frank."

He forced a smile. If I don’t perk up, I’m going to have a lot of explaining to do! he told himself. "I’ll get over it, Nan. Don’t worry." The two went downstairs and Frank led the way out back. He and Ned saw each other at the same time, and Frank instantly realized what was so familiar about Becka. She looked like her brother.

Joe put his arm around Frank’s shoulder. "Don’t worry, bro. I didn’t figure it out, either."

"That really makes me feel better, Joe," Frank shot back as he sat down.

Joe just grinned, then turned back to the grill. He could feel the tension between Ned and Frank, as usual when Nancy was around. This is bound to be an interesting summer! Joe thought to himself. Soon, though, the tension eased as Ned relaxed and Frank kept his attention off of Nancy.

Joe, however, was making faces at the grill and calling it names because it refused to light. Fenton noticed and fought the urge to laugh at his younger son. "Having trouble, Joe?"

"This Kingsford charcoal refuses to act like it’s supposed to!" Joe growled at the grill, then went to the garage for the lighter fluid. After returning and dousing the charcoal with the fluid, he struck a match and dropped it in, grinning devilishly, as if to dare the charcoal to defy him again.

The charcoal lit with a whoosh and flames shot up into the air. Joe jumped back and tripped, landing flat on the back. Through the haze in his head, he could hear the others laughing. Frank offered his hand to Joe, who took it and pulled himself up. "Don’t you think you’re overdoing it a little?" Frank asked, still smiling.

Joe dusted himself off and looked Frank square in the eye. "I’ve only just begun. Wait till you see my encore!"

"It better not have anything to do with the house!" Laura eyed her youngest son knowingly. His fascination with matches was legendary in Bayport. He had once managed to set one of the Morton’s fields on fire when he and Chet had gone "camping". Another round of laughter broke out as Joe played innocent.

"Who? Me? Set the house on fire?" He put on his most innocent face and batted his eyes at his mother.

Laura looked heavenward. Joe’s first experience with matches had set the laundry room on fire. She then scrutinized his face intently. Joe felt his face heating. "What?"

"Just making sure your eyebrows are still there." Laura sat back down as Joe’s face finished turning red. In the process of setting the laundry room on fire, he had also burned his eyebrows off. Frank and Chet still took great delight in teasing him about it when his pyromaniac tendencies showed.

Nancy found herself watching Frank closely the rest of the evening. He looked worn and tired. She knew there was more going on than just Callie breaking up with him. But she also knew that she wouldn’t find out just what was wrong unless Frank wanted to her to know. And he clearly did not want her to know.

Ned noticed, and finally leaned over to whisper in her ear. "You’re supposed to be watching me."

Nancy responded in the same teasing tone Ned had used. "I’ve seen nothing but you for the last two weeks. My eyes need a break." The she kissed him.

"Oh, brother!" Joe groaned dramatically.

Nancy looked at him and narrowed her eyes playfully. "You have no room to talk, Casanova."

Joe held up his hands in mock surrender. "Guilty as charged, milady." He then slipped an arm around Vanessa’s shoulders and pulled her close. Laura chose that moment to send Joe to the garage for the mosquito candles.

He reluctantly went for them, going around the back way. The sun was just slipping below the horizon, so he flicked on his penlight to keep from tripping. The beam landed briefly on something shiny and Joe stopped. He bent over to get a closer and his eyes widened. It was a spray paint can.

Joe went into the garage and pulled the high-powered flashlight out of the van. He then went back outside and shone it around. He swept it over the wall of the garage and gasped. On the wall, written in gold letters were the words: "You’ll never be safe".