Biff Hooper was angry.  He was angry at the black truck for driving them off the road; he was angry at Davis Getty for picking right now to finally try and include him in something – his timing couldn’t have been any more off; but mostly he was angry at his best friend for not only calling him on what he had done and was going to do, but for threatening to call his father.  And even worse, in his mind, making him break the sacred trust Davis had bestowed on him when he told Biff where he could buy beer without anyone batting an eye!

Once Joe told his father, and Fenton saw to it that the vendor was shut down, Davis and his friends were going to think Biff had ratted them out!!

The problem was he didn’t know what to do.

He was stuck between a rock and a hard place.  Joe was his best friend but Davis offered him a chance to get past just being one of the crowd he already hung with….The Getty gang was a step up!

And then once he got in, Biff would convince them that his other friends were worthy too.  Starting with Joe!

“Biff?”  Iola’s voice broke his musing and he glanced up. He had been sitting at the table staring into a cup of hot coffee while Chet had gone outside to finish securing the barn against this torrential thunderstorm.  “Telephone.  It’s Joe’s dad.”

The petite, dark-haired girl held the phone out for him, and Biff hesitated, looking at it like it might bite, as all he could think was, Joe’s already told…

“I don’t think Mr. H. likes waiting,” Iola said, wondering what was up with Biff.  Nodding, and swallowing back the knot that rose from his stomach, he took the phone.

“Hey, Mr. Hardy…I can explain,” the words tumbled out, but Fenton cut him off.

[It’s okay Biff, Joe’s already told me everything.  I just wanted to know if you called the police yet.  It’s very important for them to know about things like this.  It’s pretty serious stuff.]

“Yeah it is,” the teen admitted gloomily, wondering just how his father was going to kill him, when he got home. The accident, Ross Hooper would have no problem with; the beer…now that was another story.

Although he enjoyed the drink himself, the elder Hooper had more than let his son know how much he frowned on underage drinking. Ross’s younger brother had been killed by a drunk driver when Biff was a baby, so it instilled a very strong ‘responsible drinking’ advocate in the older man.

[Have you told your father yet?] Fenton was saying [If not I can call him for you.].

Biff was a bit surprised.  “Joe hasn’t told him yet?”

[No, I don’t think so…he came home, told me what happened and then went upstairs for a shower.  Was he supposed to?]

“No, I just thought he might.”  Biff’s heart pounded loudly in his chest…. Joe hadn’t told his father yet…maybe he could still do some damage control…!

“Actually, Mr. Hardy,” he continued, “Can you let Joe know I’m going to explain everything to my Dad myself…so he doesn’t have to worry about it.”

[Okay….Biff, are you sure you’re all right? You sound a bit off?]

“I’m doing better by the moment. Thanks, Mr. Hardy. Tell Joe I’ll talk to him later!” And then Biff hung up the phone – he still had a chance. It was all in the wording….

* * *

Fenton hung up the phone and frowned.  Something was definitely odd about Biff’s behavior.  But before he had a chance to reflect, the phone rang again and he picked it up.

It was Police Chief Ezra Collig, and the investigator stifled a groan when he heard his voice, knowing that his plans for doing nothing today had just changed.

* * *

Lily dropped Frank off outside his house with a promise to call him later. His heart soared – what a day this was turning out to be!

First he comes home from the hospital; then Lily shows up. They go in search of a missing Joe and end up hanging out on top of Cliff Heights.  And the topping on the cake was that she had asked him if he wanted to do something later tonight.  Go see a movie or something.

He, Frank Hardy, actually had a date with Lily Getty!

Even the rain did nothing to dampen his mood!

 Whistling, he opened the front door and went into the house.  Joe was just coming downstairs, and Frank smiled at him, tousled his hair as he passed and then continued on up the stairs.

Joe froze, turned around and watched his brother with a concerned look on his face. The older boy hadn’t even noticed the scratches on his face…that wasn’t like his brother – Frank noticed everything!!

And he hadn’t grilled him about what had happened earlier….

Okay, he wondered, who are you and what have you done with my brother?

Turning around, he chased the other teen up the stairs and followed him into Frank’s room. “How’s your head?” he asked a moment later.

“Wonderful,” came a vague sort of reply as Frank flung open his closet door and started to rummage through it.

“What are you looking for?” Joe had to ask.

“For something nice to wear tonight,” came the reply.

“Excuse me?” Joe’s voice was incredulous and a bit shocked sounding.  “Something nice to wear?  Since when did you care what you wore to Mr. Pizza’s?”

“Oh yeah…Mr. Pizza’s.”  Frank turned around and looked at his brother, an apologetic expression on his face.  “Actually, Joe, about that….Can you catch a lift with Hooper again?  I won’t be going with you guys tonight, I have other plans.” His tone sounded contrite but that was about it.

The fifteen-year old crossed his arms, ignored the pain in his chest from doing so, and fixed his brother with a penetrating glare.  “What’s up?  Am I on everyone’s ‘not cool to hang out with’ list today?”

Frank looked at him oddly, having no idea what his brother was talking about.  Finally he just shrugged and turned back to scrutinizing his wardrobe; quickly deciding he needed a new wardrobe!

“It’s not that kiddo, it’s just…I have a date tonight.”  He sounded casual enough, surprising himself, considering the number of butterflies in his stomach right now!

“What?” Joe was absolutely stunned.  “What? How?  When did this happen? I was only gone a couple of hours!!”

“Well,” Frank said, finally settling on black jeans and a cream colored sweater.  He had already been told the cream looked good against his complexion – dark hair and dark eyes – “after you and Biff left this morning, Lily Getty came by to apologize for the stairs thing—”

“Stairs thing?” Joe wondered if his face was going to be permanently set on ‘incredulous’ after this conversation!  “She pushed you, I hardly call that a ‘thing’!”

“She was falling— oh, never mind about that Joe. It’s not important anymore. The important thing is that when she found out you and Biff were missing, she immediately offered to drive me around to look for you,” Frank explained, sitting down on the bed and stretching out.  He was more tired than he cared to admit.  “But anyway, little brother, can we finish this later?  I really could use a nap.”  He punctuated the statement with a yawn.

Joe scowled at him for a moment and then left the room.  He was not at all pleased about this development!

* * *

Ross Hooper was a big man, although as his sixteen-year-old son already topped six foot, it was no surprise to see his sire was almost 6’4” and heavily muscled.  A former competitive weightlifter, the big man still worked out and kept his forty-year-old body in impeccable condition.

With a blond buzz-cut, square jaw and pale icy blue eyes, he could be very intimidating when he wanted to be.  But right now his formidable features were laced with concern as he gave his son a tight hug and only let go when he heard Biff gasp.  He had driven out to the Morton farm to pick the teen up himself, when he heard about the accident.

“Son,” he said, pulling away and appraising him for damage, “You had me worried.  When you told me about the accident…” he broke off and then smiled, “but you’re not looking too bad.  Is it safe to assume, Joe got off as lucky?”  He liked Biff’s best friend, feeling that he was a good influence on his son.  Biff had always been big for his age, and when he was younger, this size advantage had started to lean him towards bullying tendencies.  Ross never condoned it, but it was hard to police all the time.  However, after Biff met Joe, he noticed a marked change in his son. Now, instead of bullying smaller kids, Biff was often their champion.  And Ross was very proud of him for it.

Biff nodded; his face unnaturally tense.  “Like me.  Scratches and a nasty seat-belt bruise.”

“You’re both very lucky then,” the older Hooper remarked, extremely relieved that both boys had worn their seatbelts, as he had stopped by the accident scene on his way to the farm and seen the state of the car.  Biff and Joe were lucky not to have been killed.

“Yeah, um….Dad, I need to talk to you about something,” Biff admitted, “something important.” He licked his lips nervously.

“Okay son, we can talk on the drive home. You go say good-bye to your friends while I start the car.”  Ross was already halfway out the kitchen door as he spoke.

Moments later, the Hoopers pulled away from the farmhouse and started the drive home.

Biff decided it might be better to tell his father about the beer while the senior Hooper was driving; that way he couldn’t throttle him and drive!  And he’d probably settle down a bit by the time they got home…

“What did you want to talk to me about, son?” Ross asked after a few moments of driving in silence.

Biff bit his lip and sighed. He looked out the window, to avoid his father’s gaze and spoke softly, “There’s a case of beer in the trunk of the car.”

“What?” Ross glanced over at his son, “A case of beer?”

“Yeah,” Biff said, looking at his father and rushing through his explanation, hoping speed would help, “but it isn’t mine!  Sure, I bought it, but I did it for someone else ‘cause I’m big enough so I wouldn’t’ be ID’d…. and I know its wrong but…oh Dad, I’m so, so sorry….”  His eyes shone brightly as he fought to keep from crying. He was too old for tears, he told himself, big boys don’t cry!

His father didn’t say anything for a few minutes, but Biff saw his jaw clench as he digested the disjointed explanation that his son tried to give him.

“I am so sorry,” Biff whispered again.

Finally he heard his father sigh.  He shook his head.  “I am very disappointed in you, Allan. You know how I feel about underage or irresponsible drinking…” he paused, “but I also do understand the amount of pressure that’s on a kid these days.  You’d do anything for your friends…to fit in…to be liked.  It still isn’t right, son, and I am very angry with you for not using better judgment; however, I also appreciate you coming clean with this.  I know it couldn’t have been easy…. And I’ll take care of it.  Just promise me one thing, though?”

Biff nodded, he’d promise his father the moon right now. It hadn’t escaped his notice that his dad used “Allan” instead of the affectionate knick-name that Ross himself had started calling Biff when he was a toddler – and this was enough to make him realize just how seriously this was affecting him.  “Anything, Dad.”

“Promise you won’t do anything this stupid again?” Ross asked, “Even if you weren’t planning on drinking the beer yourself, giving it to another friend, another minor, could have ended in tragedy.  Just remember that, okay?”

“Oh I will, Dad,” Biff promised, “And thanks for understanding.”

Ross Hooper reached across and rubbed the top of his son’s head in affection. “I do understand, Biff.  Better than you might even realize.”

Then turning his attention back on his driving, Ross made up his mind.  He’d let Biff off at home and then he’d drop by the Hardy house.

He needed to talk to Fenton Hardy.  Biff hadn’t come out and said it in so many words, but the senior Hooper read between the lines. It was Joe’s beer….