The door opened and Frank and Joe were herded inside. "Now suppose you tell me why you're looking for me?" asked the man who held a gun on Frank.

"Because I think you're my father," Joe said, looking at the tall, athletic, blond-headed, blue-eyed man. Davis looked over at Joe.

"Who's your ma?" he asked, looking at the blond-headed youth.

"I don't think you know her," Joe said. "She was one of the women you raped about eighteen years ago."

"Look kid," Davis snarled, stepping up to Joe. "I don't know whether you're going to be disappointed or relieved, but I have never forced myself on any chick. I've never had to," he added egotistically.

"You're lying!" Joe spat at him.

"Why would I lie?" Davis laughed. "You came where you don't belong and weren't invited. You're gonna die," he added with another laugh.

Joe and Frank looked around. There were scales and little plastic bags everywhere. Lying on the table and in boxes which were lying open, were substances which looked as innocent as baby powder and fresh oregano, but both boys knew they weren't.

Joe swallowed and looked back at Davis. He grinned and motioned for Frank and Joe to precede him into the back. Before they had taken three steps, the front door burst open and armed officers came rushing inside. Four more came in through the back. Davis reached for Frank but the thug who had held a gun on Joe grabbed his arm, twisted it behind his back and shoved him against the wall. "Surprise," he said. "You're under arrest."

Frank and Joe breathed sighs of relief. "I was wondering how you could have his address on file and he could keep all this stuff here," Frank commented to the undercover officer.

"How did you know we had his address on file?" he asked. "Who are you?"

"I'm Frank Hardy and this is my brother, Joe," Frank said, slowly pulling out his wallet and showing his I.D.

"I'm Officer Hawkins," the man introduced himself, giving Davis over to another officer. He looked at Joe. "If you're Hardy's son, why did you tell Davis he might be your father?"

Frank told the officer about his mother having been raped and Joe just finding out.

"I don't know what you're going through," Officer Hawkins said to Joe. "But Fenton's a good man. He brags about both of you every time he comes to the station. And remember," he added, "there are a lot of kids who don't even have a father."

After a visit to headquarters, Frank and Joe grabbed some dinner and returned to the hotel. Frank called home and told his father about Davis' arrest.

"Are you ready to come home now?" Fenton asked Frank after he had finished talking.

"No," Frank replied. "We still have to check out Whitman's story."

"Can I speak to Joe?" Fenton asked.

After a prod from Frank, Joe took the receiver. "Hi," Joe said uncomfortably.

"Son, I love you," Fenton said softly. Joe, unsure of what to say, kept silent. "Be careful," Fenton said when he received no response from Joe. "Both of you."

"We will," Joe promised and said goodbye. Hanging up the phone, he sat silent while tears rolled down his cheeks. Frank sat down beside him and pulled him close.

"I don't know how to act around him anymore," Joe said, sniffing.

"I know," Frank said, smoothing Joe's hair back as he rocked him comfortingly. "But he does really love you," he added, realizing it was true. He thought of all the times his dad had been there for Joe. Not just for the times Joe had been seriously hurt, but also for the Little League and Varsity games, his first trip to the dentist, his first heartbreak.

"Remember when we were investigating the car thefts and you had a motorcycle accident?" Frank asked. Joe nodded. "Mom assured Dad you were alright but he dropped the work on his case and came rushing home to see for himself."

"I guess," Joe said. "But how can he love me?" he asked, fresh tears streaming down his cheeks. "My father hurt mom."

"It wasn't you," Frank said firmly. "No one would hold someone accountable for what their parents did," Frank said, smiling down at Joe. "You didn't."

"Huh?" Joe asked confused.

"You never blamed Jennifer when her father tried to kill you," Frank reminded him.

"I couldn't," Joe said. "She never had anything to do with it."

"Exactly."

"Oh," Joe said. "I see your point." He sat up straight and wiped the tears from his eyes. "I guess you think I'm pretty pathetic," he said, looking at Frank.

"Just human," Frank responded with a grin. "Go on and take the bathroom first," he added, giving a big yawn. "I say we call it a night."

Joe reached over and gave Frank a hug. "Thanks," he said, then stood up, gathered his pajamas and toothbrush and headed for the bathroom. When he returned Frank left to get ready for bed and Joe called Vanessa.

"So are you coming home now?" she asked after he told her about Davis' arrest.

"Not just yet," he said. "We have a little more to do here."

"But you just told me you were okay with your dad," Vanessa said, puzzled.

"I am, or at least, I think I am," Joe said. "But I still need to know who my real father is."

"Why?"

"I don't know," Joe responded hesitantly, thinking about why it seemed so important to him. "I think it's so I can see if I am like him."

"You aren't," Vanessa promised him.

"I need to be sure," he insisted.

"I understand," she said softly. "I hope you find him soon," she added. "Your mom is really upset."

"What do you mean?" Joe asked.

"She's called at least half a dozen times this afternoon to see if I've heard from you," Vanessa explained.

"Maybe I should call her," Joe said.

"That would be a good idea," she agreed.

They talked until Frank came out of the bathroom and then Joe hung up and told him what Vanessa had said about their mother."

"I wonder why Dad didn't say anything," Frank wondered out loud, as Joe dialed home.

After nine rings, Joe hung up. "They must have gone out," he told Frank.

Frank looked at his watch. "Probably a movie," he said, agreeing. "It's early yet, but I'm beat."

"Me too," Joe agreed. "Night," he added, pulling down the spread and climbing into bed.

"Night Joe," Frank said, doing the same.

At five o'clock the next morning there was a loud knock on the door. Frank got up and checked the peephole. Seeing two uniformed police officers, he opened the door.

"Frank or Joe Hardy?" one of the officers asked.

"I'm Frank Hardy," he identified himself. "Is something wrong?"

"You and your brother are under arrest," the officer said, stepping inside and forcing Frank against the wall.

"What for?" Frank demanded, as the other officer went to where Joe sat on the bed trying to take in what was happening.