“At lunch yesterday,” Chet explained. “After Joe went to sit by himself. Pete and Russ joined him and Pete passed around some brownies. What’s the big deal?” he demanded, as Biff scowled at him.

“The brownies,” Biff said, turning and looking at Frank. “That’s how Joe got the pot in his system.”

“He’s right,” agreed Phil. “We learned about it in health class this year, remember? Baking marijuana into brownies is one of the ways it can be ingested. The high isn’t as intense and it takes longer to hit which is why more brownies are consumed.”

“Plus the fact that marijuana makes the user hungry can lead to more of the brownies being consumed,” Frank added, his face marred by a scowl. “Those creeps! How could they do that to Joe? That would explain why the marijuana in his system was in various stages of breakdown. I bet they gave him more brownies at Pete’s.”

“Let’s go and pound them,” Chet snarled, slamming a fist into his palm.

“I’d like to,” Frank said, smiling at the thought. “But no,” he continued, logic still in control of his thought processes. “Pete may have given Joe the drugs but I don’t think he’s the one who stabbed Joe.”

“And Pete’s still in high school,” Phil put in. “I doubt he’s the supplier. He was probably just trying to draw Joe in.”

“And I offered him up on a silver platter,” Frank said derisively. “If I hadn’t said what I did Joe never would have left our table and Pete never would have moved in on Joe. Those guys go after kids who are loners or who seem to be having problems at home.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Chet said, putting a hand on Frank’s shoulder. ”You two have already made up, right?”

Frank looked away guiltily. “You mean Joe’s still mad about yesterday?” Chet demanded.

“No,” Frank answered with a sigh. “I screwed up again this morning. After Joe came out of his coma I...I asked him whom he had bought the drugs from.”

“After last summer?” Biff shouted in disbelief as he leapt to his feet. “How could you even think Joe would get into that?”

“I don’t know,” Frank admitted miserably. “I thought his being around all those dope heads might have...” Frank’s voice trailed off as he shrugged his shoulders in defeat.

“Relax,” Chet told him. “Joe knows you love him and he knows you’re not perfect. He’ll forgive you.”

“After you beg a little,” Biff predicted with a grin.

“Here’s the address,” Phil said, handing the computer print out to Frank. “Keep your guard up. Remember, he was trying to get Joe turned on at school. Something happened between school and the time Joe left Pete’s that changed his mind.”

“You’re right,” Frank said, his forehead creasing thoughtfully. “Pete already knows who our dad is and that we solve mysteries. So it must have something to do with his dad,“ he theorized.

“You really think his dad knows his own son is into drugs?” asked Chet a bit incredulously.

Frank thought about it and then shrugged. “It is a possibility.”

They arrived at Pete’s house to find Pete and Russell closing the front door. “I hope this isn’t a bad time,” Frank said, jumping out of the car before Chet had put it in park and racing up to the two boys before they had a chance to take off.

“We were just going to the park,” Russ said. “No big.”

“Did you want something?” Pete asked, trying to hide his annoyance.

“Yes,” Frank replied as Biff and Chet joined him. “My brother was stabbed on his way home last night. We wanted to ask you a few questions.”

“Stabbed?” Russell asked. Frank would swear his shock was real. “Oh man. Is he....”

“He’s alive,” Frank said. “He’s in the hospital.”

“We need to go and see him,” Russ said, looking over at Pete.

“Definitely,” Pete agreed. “Which hospital is he in?”

“He can’t have any visitors,” Frank hedged, not wanting to put Joe in any more danger. “He’s still in critical condition.”

“That’s rough,” Russ said. “Joe’s a cool guy.”

“Any idea who stabbed him?” Pete asked, watching Frank’s face closely.

“The police think he stabbed himself,” Frank admitted, his face revealing nothing. “He was on acid when it happened.”

“Joe?” Russ asked, his eyes widening. “He didn’t seem the type.”

“He’s not,” Biff said. “Which is why we think someone gave it to him without him knowing it.”

“And we were wondering if you saw anyone following Joe when he left here last night?” Frank quickly put in, noting Pete’s posture change to a defensive stance. They wouldn’t learn anything if he thought they were accusing them.

“No, I didn’t see anyone,” Pete said.

“Maybe your dad saw someone,” Russ suggested.

“Your dad?” Frank asked.

“Yeah, he was here. We both saw Joe out last night,” Pete answered truthfully although he was clearly annoyed with Russ.

“Hey, let us know when Joe can have visitors,” Russ said. “I’ll take him a Gundam comic.”

“Sure,” Frank agreed, a little confused. Gundam? What’s that?

“Sorry we couldn’t help,” Pete said, starting to move away from the door and getting Russell to follow him.

Frank, Chet and Biff returned to the car. “What do you think?” Chet asked Frank.

“Pete knows something,” Frank stated with certainty. “Russell may know about the drugs but I get the feeling he doesn’t know anything about what happened to Joe.” Frank stopped speaking for a minute. When he resumed he looked at Biff and then at Chet. “Would you guys follow Russell? Wait until he’s alone and then see if you can find out where he’s getting his supply?”

“We’ll do our best,” Biff promised.

“We’ll drop you off and then head to the park,” Chet said in full agreement.

“Thanks guys,” Frank said with a smile. “Call me later on my cell?” he asked. “Oh, but after four. I’m going to see Joe at two and no cell phones are allowed in the hospital.”

***

Frank arrived home just in time to catch a ride with his parents, to the hospital. They hit the drive-thru at Barney’s Burger Barn and ate lunch on the way, careful to leave no trace of catsup near their lips because they knew Joe was on a restricted liquid diet.

Fenton rapped lightly on the door to Joe’s room before opening it. He, Laura and Frank entered quietly and came to stand around Joe’s bed. Joe must have heard their breathing for his eyes flickered open. He took one look at them and scowled. “I haven’t taken anything today,” he said bitterly.

“We know,” Fenton said. “And we’re sorry.”

“I knew better,” Frank put in. “But, well, I thought maybe being around those people last summer did have some effect on you and...”

“And I’m just dumb enough to go out and get high,” Joe finished for him. The monitor above Joe’s bed began beeping louder.

“No,” Frank denied hastily. “Look, I was worried about you. The doctor said it had been in your system for hours, maybe even days. And you were acting so strange yesterday afternoon.” Joe’s monitor began to beep. “The brownies Pete gave you at lunch were laced with marijuana. He probably slipped more into your dinner last night.”

“He wouldn’t have had too,” Joe said, the beep becoming steadier. “When we got to Pete’s we pretty much polished off a dozen or more brownies between us.”

Fenton frowned as the door opened and a nurse came into the room. “You’re going to have to leave,” she said looking at the Hardys through hard blue eyes.

“A few more minutes?” Joe begged as she took his pulse.

“Very well,” she relented. “But if your monitor goes off again no more visitors for the rest of the day.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Joe agreed, smiling weakly.

Fenton waited until she left before asking Joe his next question. “You said the last thing you remembered clearly was leaving Pete’s. Did he give you anything to eat or drink before you left?”

“No,” Joe answered. “But his dad did.” His forehead creased thoughtfully. “I was getting ready to leave but he told me to wait. He left the room and Pete and I talked for a few more minutes until Walter came back and he gave me a brownie and an open soda to drink on my way home.”

“You didn’t think it weird that he opened the soda before giving it up to you?” asked Frank, wondering how messed up Joe had been before he had gotten the LSD.

“I didn’t think about it,” Joe replied honestly. “But I doubt it would have bothered me if I had. It was one of those glass bottles. Was I stabbed with my own knife?” he asked, seemingly out of the blue.

“What?” Frank and Fenton asked at the same time.

“I had my pocketknife when I left school,” Joe explained. “I had forgotten to take it out of my pocket the last time I wore them. So if I was stabbed with it then it had to have been Russ, Pete, or Walter who stabbed me.”

Frank went over to the locker at the side of the room and opened it up. Joe’s pants were hanging there but the police had taken his shirt. Frank went through Joe’s pockets and pulled something out. He held it up for his parents and Joe to see. It was Joe’s knife.