“Any idea who tried to run you down?” Frank asked as he and Joe made their way upstairs.

“No,” Joe answered. “But he was driving a little green coupe and if you see it now, it doesn’t have a back windshield.”

“I’m sorry,” Frank said as the two reached Joe’s room. “About last night.”

“Forget it,” Joe said before Frank could continue.

“Where were you?” Frank asked.

“I went out to Langley’s,” Joe answered. “I wanted to ask him some questions about Benson.”

“The curator?” Frank demanded, his eyes widening in surprise. “Why him?”

“If it wasn’t Sorrel or Terrance behind the theft, then I thought it must have been Langley but the more I thought about it, one other person came into my mind,” Joe explained. “He had access and we didn’t even run a background on him.”

“You know, you’re right,” Frank said thoughtfully, helping Joe onto the bed. “Are you sure you’re going to be all right?”

“Yes,” Joe answered, smiling. “A good night’s sleep and I’ll be right as rain. That is,” Joe scowled, “if dad doesn’t kill me.”

“Don’t worry too much about it,” Frank said, trying to comfort his brother. “I know dad is mad but I don’t think he’s mad at you.”

“I hope you’re right,” Joe said as the phone rang.

“I’d better get that,” Frank said. “I think dad went for a walk to cool down.”

Frank picked up the receiver. “Frank?” Sam’s voice came through after Frank said hello. “Sorry, I didn’t get back to you sooner,” he apologized. “I had trouble getting through to my contact.”

“No problem,” Frank assured him.

“There’s a five million dollar insurance policy on the Renoir through Lloyds of London,” Sam informed Frank. “It’s the only policy in existence on the painting and the policyholder is the Bayport Museum although the beneficiary is one Steve Langley.”

“Makes sense,” Frank said. “The museum gets to keep the painting so they are responsible for it but since Langley owns it he would get the money if something happened to it. Thanks Sam,” Frank said. “You’ve been a great help.”

Frank hung up and went back into Joe’s room where he found a pajama clad Joe climbing into bed. He told Joe about the insurance policy.

Joe frowned. “I guess it could have been Langley who tried to run me down,” he said. “If we could find the car we’d know for sure.”

“Have you had dinner yet?” Frank asked, remembering Joe had skipped lunch.

“No,” Joe replied. “I’ll get something later,” he promised, closing his eyes. “I really need a nap.

“Okay,” Frank agreed, planning on bringing Joe some soup in a little while. “Sleep well, baby brother,” he said softly and turned the light out.

The next morning Joe entered the kitchen and took his seat with some trepidation. His leg was much better and his headache had vanished but he feared the punishment he expected from his father.

Laura set Joe’s plate in front of him before taking her own seat. Fenton had told her about Joe last night but, unlike Fenton, she had been extremely angry with Joe for not telling her. She began eating her breakfast without her usual greeting.

Laura had given Frank the same cold shoulder when he had come down to breakfast. He and Joe hadn’t told her because they didn’t want her to worry but he understood why she was upset. She hated it when things were kept from her, especially when that something involved the welfare of one of her children.

Joe looked from Frank who sat playing with his food to his mother who sat taking small bites and refusing to look at anyone, to his father who was devouring his pancakes like nothing was amiss. “Okay,” Joe said, putting both palms down on the table. “Let me have it.” Right now, he would take any punishment just as long as things got back to normal.

“How could you?” Laura demanded, glaring at Joe. “You should have told me about Marie’s family.”

“It’s not Marie’s fault,” Joe retorted defensively. “She doesn’t have any idea what her dad is involved in.”

“But you do!” Laura shouted angrily. “I know Sorrel insisted you keep dating his daughter,” she continued. “Frank told us about it at dinner last night. But you should have let me know when it started. What if she had gotten mad at you? They could have killed you!”

Fenton winced at the last part. What he was about to say would not go over well with his wife but there was no alternative. “Laura’s right,” Fenton informed his sons. “She should have been told. I should have been told,” this last part was said with a frown at Frank.

“I’m sorry,” Joe apologized. “It’s not that I was trying to keep it from you....either of you....I just didn’t want mom upset when there wasn’t anything we could do about it.”

“But there is,” Fenton declared. Laura’s gaze went from Joe to her husband and she narrowed her eyes suspiciously. He took her hand and gave it a squeeze, attempting to reassure her before he spoke.

“You have to break up with Marie,” Fenton declared.

“He can’t!” Frank shouted in alarm. “Sorrel....”

“Sorrel will abide by this decision,” Fenton stated with certainty. “He can’t want Joe and his daughter to be seeing each other any more than we do. You will tell him it was my decision,” he ordered Joe.

“She’s only going to be in town for another week,” Joe protested. “Can’t we just....” he broke off at the thunderous expression on his father’s face.

“Am I to understand that you want to date Sorrel’s daughter?” Fenton demanded his brown eyes locking with Joe’s blue ones.

“No,” Joe denied causing Frank to momentarily relax. “I want to date Marie. She just happens to be Sorrel’s daughter.”

Frank groaned and leaned back in his seat. Joe had been getting off easy but if his father’s response to Joe’s words was any indication that was about to pass.

“A technicality that will be ignored,” Fenton spoke slowly and firmly. “You may take your mother’s car and go to Sorrel’s this morning.”

“What about school?” Joe tried to stall.

“When you bring your mother’s car back, she will take you to school,” Fenton said. “Or perhaps you need me to go with you to Sorrel’s?”

“No,” Joe said, frowning as he stood up. “I can do it.”

“Aren’t you going to eat breakfast first?” Laura asked.

“I’m not hungry,” Joe replied, leaving.

“Dad,” Frank commanded.

“You are just as guilty as Joe is for keeping this from us,” Fenton interrupted whatever Frank was about to say.

“But....”

“You should have told me when I called,” Fenton snapped. “Finish your breakfast and go to school. Your mother and I will tell you and Joe what your punishment will be this evening.”

“Yes, sir,” Frank replied, putting the fork full of pancake in his mouth. He swallowed, realizing his mom’s usually delicious cooking now tasted like cardboard. He stood up and took his plate to the sink.

Neither Fenton nor Laura spoke, well aware of the reason Frank had lost his appetite. Besides, Laura was anxious for Frank to leave so she could have a few choice words with Fenton for sending Joe to Sorrel’s on his own.

***

Joe slowed down as he neared the outskirts of town. He had the feeling he was being followed. Joe reached up to a push a lock of hair from his eyes and his hand brushed the small bandage placed over the stitches. Of course I’m being followed, Joe realized. Not for long, though. He was relieved that he would no longer be under the protection of the mafia but saying goodbye to Marie was still one task he dreaded. Although he had only known her for a few days, he had fallen in love with the twinkle in her eyes and the fierce protectiveness she had displayed for him. If only her father wasn’t Sorrel, he knew his parents would have loved her.

Joe’s thoughts came to an end when he saw a blue Mercedes along the side of the road. He was surprised to see the museum’s curator standing beside it.

Benson looked up as Joe approached and waved his hands in the air to get him to stop. Joe parked the car behind Benson’s and got out. “What’s wrong?” Joe asked.

“I’m not sure,” Benson replied. “I thought rentals were more reliable. I was on my way to work and the car just started jerking. I pulled off to see if I could find anything wrong although, I must admit, I know very little about cars. Anyway, when I tried to start it back up, it wouldn’t.”

“Let me take a look,” Joe offered, going to the front of the car. It sounded like the fuel line to him. “Can you try and start it up?” he asked, looking at the motor.

“Of course,” agreed Benson, but instead of complying he hit Joe in the back of the head with a heavy flashlight.

Joe fell forward but didn’t lose consciousness. He tried to regain his balance and move but before he could, the flashlight struck him again. Joe fell onto the lukewarm motor unconscious.

The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The authors have just borrowed them for an adventure or two. The authors promise to put the boys back when they are done with them. The authors do claim copyright to the original characters in this story. Please do not borrow original characters without express permission of the authors.