Frank frowned as he looked at the bathroom door that connected his room to Joe’s. It hadn’t been all that long ago when Joe had entered his rebellious phase. Frank shuddered as he remembered the events that had led to Joe being placed in rehab for heroin addiction. Frank remembered Joe saying he would never do drugs because he knew he had a family that was there for him. But had they been?

After Joe returned home things pretty much got back to normal and their dad, Fenton Hardy, a famous private investigator who had gotten his start as an officer with the New York City Police Department, had left a week after Joe’s return to take a case for the government. Their mom had resumed her duties with the Red Cross and he...Frank sighed. I haven’t made brother of the year either.

Frank knew Vanessa had left first thing this morning with her mother to go to a cartoon convention in California. He should have been more considerate. He should have taken Phil’s advice and gone after Joe at lunch instead of waiting. But then, Frank thought, most of us are seniors. It will do Joe good to make friends with people in their junior year. At least that way, Joe wouldn’t be alone next year.

Frank’s forehead wrinkled as he stood up; stretched; and headed out his door and downstairs. Did Joe think about his senior year? Was that why he had gotten so angry then turned so mellow? He realized he shouldn’t take his bad mood out on those around him? Frank gave himself a mental shake. Stop worrying. Joe’s fine.

“Is Joe home yet?” Frank asked, entering the living room.

“No” Fenton replied, frowning when he looked at his watch. “It’s almost eight o’clock too.” He looked over at his wife who used the remote to turn off the TV. “Did he say how late he was going to be?”

“He just said he’d been invited for dinner and would be home shortly after,” Laura answered. “I wish I had gotten Pete’s phone number.”

“We could look it up,” Frank suggested.

“I tried,” Laura admitted. “But there are about one hundred Barlow’s in Bayport and I don’t know Pete’s father’s name.”

“I’ll head down to Mr. Pizza,” Frank decided after a moment’s thought. “Someone there should know where Pete lives or at least his dad’s name.”

“Good idea,” approved Fenton. He had become overly concerned about his youngest son since seeing him comatose due to a drug overdose the past summer. He still felt guilty because the night Joe had been abducted from their home was the night Fenton had grounded Joe and forbid him to accompany Frank and himself on an assignment. Had Joe gone with them he would have been safe. He never would have felt the pangs of withdrawal.

Fortunately, Joe’s withdrawal was swift because he had not become mentally dependent on the drug. Joe still believed he hadn’t been addicted because of this. He insisted there hadn’t been enough time. But Fenton knew the physical addiction was just as swift as the mental and he recognized the symptoms. Granted, he hadn’t been around Joe much while he was in rehab. At first, he wasn’t allowed and later Joe had chosen to try and find the men responsible on his own and pushed his family away making them think he was really addicted but Frank had insisted on going in undercover to look out for Joe only to learn the truth.

“Call as soon as you find out anything,” Fenton ordered, looking at Frank through worried eyes. This past summer had brought home the reality that he was not immune from the fears that plagued parents. Just because his sons knew the dangers didn’t mean they couldn’t be drawn in.

“I will,” Frank promised. He headed toward the front door and opened it. He stepped outside but stopped short of closing the door when he saw a police car turn the corner and pull to a stop in the road in front of the house.

Tall and graying Ezra Collig, Bayport’s Chief of Police, exited the driver’s side and headed up the walkway. Frank remained where he was, recognizing the look on Collig’s face as one he used when he had bad news to impart.

“What’s wrong?” demanded Frank when Collig came to a standstill on the porch in front of him but never spoke.

“Let’s go inside,” Collig said, his voice a bit gruff.

Frank did an about face and entered the house with the Chief at his heels. “Joe, is that you?” Laura asked, hearing the footsteps as they neared the living room.

“No, mom,” Frank answered, entering the room.

“Ezra!” Fenton said, surprised to see him with Frank. “Is there something I can help you with or is this a social call?” he asked, standing up.

“Neither, actually,” Ezra said. He took a deep breath. “I came here because of Joe.”

“I knew it!” exclaimed Frank, his brown eyes worried. “Is he okay?”

“No, he’s not,” Ezra replied gravely. “He’s in critical condition at Bayport General.”