“Is your brother home?” Mr. Getty continued, “I really need to talk to the both of you.”

Frank shook off his shock, mildly amazed at how uncomfortable this man made him. It took him another moment before he could find his voice.  “May I ask you what you want?” He deliberately didn’t answer the question. It was none of his business where Joe was.

“I want to talk about my daughter of course, “Mr. Getty said, giving Frank a charming smile.  “May I come in?”

“Actually I don’t think that would be a very good idea,” the teen told him.  “I don’t even think you should be here.  We’re witnesses for the prosecution and you – your children are the accused.  I’m sure lawyers or something need to be present.”

“A shrewd young man – I can easily see why my daughter is so smitten with you,” the senior Getty’s smile grew wider, showing blazingly white teeth.  All the better to eat you with, Frank mused, almost smiling at the bizarreness of the thought.  “However, I am really trying to avoid unpleasantries such as lawyers and things.”

“Frank?”  The sound of his father’s voice behind him brought the teen immeasurable relief and even before he could say anything, the detective was moving swiftly towards them. “What the hell are you doing here?”  Apparently he recognized Darius Getty too!

Unfazed, the other man met Fenton’s glare.  “I came to talk to your sons – and you, of course.”

“Of course,” Fenton patronized and then continued, “You have nothing to say that we want to hear.  Good—” He started to close the door but Darius put his hand up, stopping it. The two men stood eye to eye.

“This concerns my family. You will hear me out,” Mr. Getty said.

Frank instinctively took one step back to stand behind his father as he felt the animosity level shoot through the roof. He watched his father carefully, seeing his face darken with rage, and knew the detective was fighting to control his temper.

“Getty—” Fenton actually growled, but the other man continued, cutting him off.

“I am not an unreasonable man. I am willing to compensate your family in any way you see fit, to keep this ‘civil’; and in exchange all I ask is that your sons put the blame squarely on the shoulders of the one whom it belongs to, and not drag my daughter into this. Lily cannot go to prison – it will destroy her and I refuse to stand by and watch that happen to my child if I have any power to stop it…and I do.”  He took out his checkbook and looked expectantly at the shocked Hardys.  “Name your price.  I am a reasonable man.”

Frank backed up another step as his father’s face turned an interesting shade of purple, and it seemed to take the detective a few moments to find his voice, but when he did, it was low and deadly; the likes of which the teen had never heard before, and it sent cold shivers coursing down his spine.

“If you are a reasonable man, than I am not!” Fenton spat.  “I want that ‘child’ of yours to pay for this – but not with your money.  She not only instigated the savage attack on my younger son, behind Mr. Pizza’s, three nights ago, but she stood there and watched as not one, not two, not even three – but four older boys beat the crap out of him; left him lying by a dumpster like someone’s trash. That was my child.”  The detective’s dark brown eyes were almost black with barely controlled rage as he continued, “Then, if that wasn’t bad enough – your son kidnapped him. He was knocked out and left to almost freeze to death in dank, dark cellar before they tried to bury him alive or threatened to shoot him!  So you’ll excuse me if you find my sympathy towards your ‘daughter’s’ plight, lacking – greatly.”

Mr. Getty opened his mouth to say something but Fenton continued, “I am very curious though, exactly whose shoulders are you expecting us to lay this blame, if not your children’s?”

Frank was surprised to find himself shaking slightly as he heard the venom in his father’s voice, even as he was wondering the same thing.  Who did Mr. Getty think was to blame?

“Davis, of course.”

* * *

Fenton was sure he had misheard; was this man doing what he thought he was doing: picking one child over another? For one brief moment, he tried to put himself in Darius’ position but couldn’t – he loved both his sons and could never imagine selling Frank out to save Joe!

The words were out of his mouth even as he thought them: “You bastard!”

Not even blinking at the other man’s animosity, Mr. Getty just said, “You know how boys are, Mr. Hardy; you have two of them. Davis has always resented his sister and now he’s used your son – sons – to punish her.  Lily doesn’t deserve to go to jail—”

Fenton cut him off.  “You’re very right, Getty, jail is not what she deserves.  But unfortunately that is all we have to offer her right now!”

Frank finally saw something in the other man’s face – a flicker of emotion, anger – the first sign that he was being affected by anything the investigator was saying.  Slowly the smile worked itself loose as Darius snorted, “I thought you were a smart man, Hardy.  I guess I’ve been sadly mistaken. You still don’t get it, do you? I will do whatever it takes to make sure Lily isn’t tainted by this – and even if it does come to a trial, no one in their right mind is going to believe that such a beautiful young flower is capable of masterminding any of these atrocities!  What they are going to see is a jealous brother…one willing to go as far as trying to drown her while her new boyfriend and she were out for a pleasant day on the bay. They’ll hear about Davis’ anger and fits of violence, punctuated by the beating he gave your younger son – and no one will believe Lily could be involved in such a thing.”

“You’re deluded Getty,” Fenton scoffed, “The police have the statements from the other two boys and my sons—”

“Young males driven by hormones,” Darius taunted, “of course they’d blame everything on Lily!  They wouldn’t want to implicate their friend – further testimony to Davis’ intimidating, controlling nature.”

“No,” Frank shook his head, speaking for the first time in minutes, hardly believing that any father could turn on a son like that, even one like Davis!  “If anyone was being intimidated by anyone it was Davis by Lily—”

“And you,” Mr. Getty ignored what Frank said, as he turned his attention on the teen, “you and your brother.  You’re the worst!  Lily cared about you – trusted – you!  And how did you repay that? By turning your back on her when she needed you the most!”

“Wha- what are you talking about?”  The teen was stunned.

“Did you ever ask Lily what happened in that horrid little pizza place when you went to the bathroom?”  Darius didn’t wait for Frank’s response.  “Well I did – and she told me.  She told me that while you were gone, your warped little brother made a pass at her—”

“What?!”  A completely shocked Frank heard his father roar. 

Mr. Getty ignored him and continued.  “Yeah – a pass!  And when she called Davis, all upset, he and his friends decided to teach the boy a lesson. The kid got off lucky.  If I’d been home at the time, you would have needed a shoebox to pick up the pieces!

“So go ahead and be stupid, press on with this ludicrousness and all you’re going to do is ruin the reputations of your own sons—”

Fenton’s fist was moving before Frank even saw his father draw back for the punch.  It connected with Darius Getty’s jaw, knocking him flat on his ass.

“Get the hell out of my sight,” the detective snapped, “you piece of shit! You sad, pathetic excuse of a human being!”

Mr. Getty scrambled to his feet, holding his jaw.  When he got a couple of feet away, he threatened Fenton, “You’re going to be sorry about all this, Hardy!  Assault – that is what this is!  Assault!  You’ll be hearing from my lawyer!!”

Fenton took two steps towards him, causing Darius to retreat even further.  “Bring it on.”  His voice was so cold, Frank shivered.

The two men locked gazes for one long moment and then Darius Getty was gone, scurrying down the walkway towards his overpriced automobile.  Only then did Frank’s father turn to him. “You okay, son?”

The teen nodded, rendered absolutely speechless by both what he’d heard and what he’d seen.  Finally, as he felt his father’s hand rest on his shoulder, he just shook his head.  “He’s nuts, crazy – they’re all completely insane!” 

As Biff’s car finally pulled in front of the house, parking in the very spot Darius Getty had vacated, Frank looked at his father in concern.  “Dad, you’re not going to get in trouble over this, are you? I mean for decking him?”

Fenton shook his head and smiled warmly at his son, even as he flexed his fist.  “Nah. In order to press any charges he’d need to explain what he was doing at our house to begin with – and getting punched on your ass after trying to bribe and then threaten a witness isn’t anything he’s going to want to go tête-à-tête about. Besides,” he added, attempting to lighten the mood, “Your old man has contacts. Pretty damn good ones too if I do say so myself. So why don’t you go take off with Biff, and if Mr. Getty does come any where around you or your brother, call the police, immediately.” He pulled out his own cell phone and passed it to his son.  “I’ll have a new phone for you later today.”

Frank took the phone and nodded, at his father.  “Don’t worry,” he vowed, his face determined, “that guy isn’t getting anywhere near Joe…or me.”

His father smiled in acknowledgment and then went back in the house.  Frank heard the door closing as he trotted down the walkway to a waiting Biff.

* * *

The detective watched out the window as Biff’s car pull away from curb; a grim expression on his face. As he thought about the look on his son’s face just before he left, he shook his head and smiled tightly.  “Oh Getty,”  he muttered, “I really do hope you aren’t stupid enough to try and talk to Joe—”

And then he turned away from the window and strode across the room to his office.  He needed to call Collig and tell him about this run-in.  He really was not expecting any trouble from Getty about that punch but he still wanted to tell his old friend, and to arrange for a restraining order – next time Getty showed up, if he did – Fenton would legally be prepared!

* * *

As soon as they arrived at the farm, Frank looked around for his brother, frowning slightly when he saw him sitting on the veranda swing.  Kid should be indoors, he thought as he started to walk towards him, it’s too chilly for him to be sitting outside today!

* * *

Joe was still sitting in the swing when he saw Biff’s car pull up. Iola was inside making him a cup of hot chocolate, and to get him a blanket since he insisted on staying outside with them while they worked. The smile on his face faltered only a moment when he saw his brother get out of the passenger seat – he had really hoped not to see Frank for a while yet, as he hadn’t had a chance to sort out how he wanted to deal with this.

He wanted to talk to Frank but knew it would make him feel worse. The teen was also afraid of what his brother might say when they did speak.  Maybe Frank would brush him off as being overly sensitive and not take him seriously.  At one time Joe would have never had these doubts, but now – well, now things had changed.

Joe saw Frank make a beeline towards him; leaned his head against the swing, and closed his eyes.  He hoped Iola hurried back out; not only because he was getting cold, but he was also sure that Frank would not talk to him about anything beyond superficialities if anyone else was around.

And then he let out a sigh of relief when he heard a familiar voice call out “Hi, Frank” and knew he’d gotten a reprieve.  Callie Shaw had just arrived!

* * *

Callie parked the car and got out.  She was wearing her old clothes in anticipation of painting, and let out a groan when she saw Frank walking towards the farm house.  Shoot, she mentally chastised, how could I have forgotten he might be here!  Great, and me looking like a fashion magazine threw-up my outfit! Oh well…here goes nothing!  

Getting out of her car, she called out to the tall dark-haired teen as his foot hit the bottom step of the veranda, “Hi, Frank!”  Immediately he turned, saw her and flashed her the most heart-melting smile; Callie instantly forgot what she looked like!

“Hey Callie,” he said, his brown eyes smiling warmly, “I didn’t know you’d be here…not that I’m complaining,” he quickly added.

The girl smiled and brushed a stray brown hair from her equally brown eyes.  “I like to paint.”  Oh God, that was lame!

Frank laughed.  “Then you’ve come to the right place.  I hear there’s enough painting for everyone.”  His gaze turned towards the barn and then back at her.  “Yup, definitely!”

Callie laughed feeling strangely nervous around him, and then she said, “How’s Joe?” That was a safe topic – at least one she wouldn’t make herself sound too goofy on!

* * *

Frank glanced up at the figure sitting in the swing and saw Iola come out. She passed Joe a steaming mug of something and then wrapped a blanket around his shoulders, before sitting back down next to him.  He felt a bit better about things then.

“Looks like he’s doing good. Iola is certainly taking care of him,” he commented, a bit surprised to see that, actually.

“Yeah,” Callie got a faraway look on her face as she looked up at the two teens.  “I think it’s sweet that Joe finally realized about Iola…and he reciprocates.”

Reciprocates? Frank mused, not exactly a word you hear in too many 16-year-olds conversations. And then the rest of her comment sunk in and he actually gaped at her.  “Excuse me?”

The girl gave him an odd look.  “Yeah, you know ‘returns’ the feelings—”

“I know what it means”, Frank cut in, his normal politeness momentarily stunned by her revelation, “I just had no idea things – that they – I mean…” he blushed suddenly, at a loss for words and he heard her laugh.

“This has to be a first. I’ve figured out that your brother is a ‘chatty Cathy’ but I thought you were the smooth talker – aren’t you on the debate team?”

“Well yeah, usually – but…” Frank paused and looked at her.  “Hey, how’d you know I was on the debate team?  Been investigating me, or something?”  He was actually only teasing but when she blushed and turned away, he wondered if she was!

“Oh,” he said and then immediately jumped back to a less terrifying part of the conversation.  “I was just surprised because Joe never mentioned anything to me about him and Iola.  I guess that’s just proof of how out of touch I’ve become in such a short time. Thanks, by the way,” Frank added as almost an afterthought.

“For what?” Callie looked at him again, her color quickly returning to normal.

“For insisting on coming with me the other night; for calling the police like I asked you to when you saw Joe; and even more importantly, for saving us all from Lily. You were the real hero that night, Callie.”  He couldn’t look at her when he spoke, and chose to let his gaze roam around the yard, taking everything in.  Biff and Chet were lugging cans of paint out of the barn – obviously involved in a very amusing conversation if the laughter Frank saw wracking Biff’s muscular frame was any indication; although Chet was looking amazingly sober.  Tony had arrived, pulling in moments ahead of Phil, and both boys were just now getting out of their vehicles.  He saw Phil raise his eyebrows a bit when he noticed Frank and Callie; shrug and then walk with Tony towards the other boys, to give them a hand.  His gaze finally flickered to the young couple sitting on the swing, and lingered for a moment longer on the blond-haired teen, wrapped in a warm blanket.

“I really do mean it. Thank you.” His voice was husky as he turned back to look at her, and he watched in amusement as she flushed with embarrassment, again. She really is beautiful, he thought, surprising himself.

“Well it was the least I could do,” Callie finally managed to mutter.  “Lily kinda had everyone else neutered.”

Frank laughed softly.  He loved how she worded things. “Very true.” And then he commented, “I have to admit you really did surprise me. That kick – and then take-down, amazing!  I would have never figured you as a martial arts girl, though.  Or was it a lucky kick?”

Callie laughed, shook her head, and started to go up the stairs to talk to Iola and Joe.

“Hey, aren’t you going to tell me?” he called after her, and halfway up she turned, shrugged and then said casually:

“There’s a lot about me that you don’t know, Mr. Frank Hardy.”

She was almost at the top when his words, soft and teasing, floated after her…

“I know you’re not a brunette.”

Callie turned and looked back at him but Frank was no longer there. He was walking away and towards the other boys.

“Hey!” she called after him, hurrying back down the steps.  Frank stopped.  “How’d you know?” she asked, slightly breathless as she grabbed his arm and stood in front of him, blocking his way.

Frank just grinned at her.  “If there’s one thing I do know…it’s blonds!” Brunette’s not so much, he added to himself, thinking of Lily.

The girl just stared at him for a long moment and then shook her head and walked back towards the house again.  Inwardly she was very pleased – Frank Hardy had noticed her!  In fact, more than noticed her, he had seen right through her…

* * *

Joe watched the interaction between Frank and Callie with a wary look on his face.  Oh great, he thought, here we go again.