Fenton Hardy frowned as he drove back to his house.  He’d have to check his files but he was pretty sure he remembered who this guy was, and the number that was hand scrawled on the back of the card would verify it for him.

That was something he had started doing when he first became a private investigator.  He numbered his contact cards and then kept track of who had which number.  It might have sounded silly but it had actually been of great help on more than one occasion, and he was certain that this was going to be another one!

3 4 3 - those were the numbers on the back of the card found on the victim’s body.

Frowning, he pulled up in front of his house and pursed his lips. If he was right, then this guy had been dead for about seven or eight years now….It would certainly tie up one loose end.  But would it give him something new to go on?

“Hey Dad!” Joe’s cheerful voice broke his reverie, and Fenton smiled at his younger son and got out of the car.  Not seeing the brothers’ van in the driveway, he assumed Frank was still out.

“Hi, son,” he greeted Joe affectionately, and then shook his head at the mess the boy was in. Joe’s blond hair was disheveled, and he doubted there was any place on him that didn’t have grease or dirt. Thank goodness he was wearing overalls.  “Are you finished with Wilson’s truck yet?”  He knew the boy was going to change the oil on the vehicle today, for their elderly neighbor.

The seventeen-year-old might be a mess but he knew his way around vehicles in a way that made the older man envious…and proud.

“Yeah, just did--"  He grinned and then waited until his father was closer before saying anything else.  “Took a bit longer than I was expecting, though.  Mr. Fitz is in a talkative mood today.”  He rubbed his ears for emphasis.

“Ah,” Fenton laughed as he nodded knowingly and held the door open for his son.  “Well, I’m sure he was glad for the company.  It’s pretty lonely for him, even with Rufus.  His kids can’t come back to visit as much as he’d like them to.”

“I know,” Joe flashed him a smile, “and I don’t mind, really.  He’s a nice person.”

“So are you,” the detective told his son warmly, knowing that Joe never charged the old man for any service he did on the truck, not even for parts.

Blushing, the teen hurried upstairs to get a shower.

Fenton headed to his office; he needed to correlate a name with that number and get the key for the storage locker he and Sam Radley, his associate and partner, kept their old files in.

He used to keep them in his own attic, but after almost seventeen years of investigations, he had more old files than room. The sleuth knew he could start to destroy the oldest ones, but that required time to sift through them, and time was a commodity he didn’t have, particularly as he or Sam would have to go through each file, individually, to determine whether or not it might be still needed in an appeal or something.

Pulling open the file he kept the numbers in, Fenton ran his finger down the row until he found the one he was looking for. 3 4 3.

Looking across at the note he’d handwritten next to the word ‘TEX’, he scowled. He was right about who the corpse was…but he drew no comfort from it.

Damn, why’d it have to be him? he wondered, sitting down at his desk and sighing heavily.  Fenton had reconciled himself years ago to the decision he had made about this case.  But now Tex was back and so was his frustration, eight years old and simmering as hotly as it had back then.

He had been so close…but then he let go.  He didn’t regret the decision he’d made, only the need to have made it.

Putting the file back in the drawer and slamming it shut, Fenton remembered to grab the key and was halfway out of the office when the phone rang. Picking it up, he answered quickly, “Hardy Investigations.”

[Two fine young sons, Fenton, and a beautiful wife….How much is any one of them worth?] A voice the investigator didn’t recognize sneered.

“Who is this?” Fenton demanded, heatedly, immediately switching on the trace.

[Forget you ever knew him…or I’ll remember how well I know you…and your family] The line clicked as the caller hung up!

“Damn,” Fenton muttered as he glared at the phone - the call wasn’t long enough to track.

What the hell was that about? he wondered as he stood in his office for a while longer and pondered the cryptic call, and who were they talking about?

Shaking his head in frustration, a concerned frown marred his handsome face.  He wasn’t working on anything right now…was the caller talking about that body the jogger found in the park? The one still carrying his card…?

He thought again about the warning, and the words chilled him.

Over the years he had gotten his share of threats, either about his own welfare or too often - and more frighteningly - about his family’s. But this caller made an insinuation that was unnerving; an insinuation of familiarity….Or I’ll remember how well I know you…and your family…

“Damn,” he cursed again, and this time when he left the office he didn’t leave the house, like he had intended, he went upstairs to where he had just heard the shower turn off.

* * *

Joe was in a great mood.   Yeah, the oil change had taken him a lot longer than he had expected, and he ended up missing out on meeting his friends at Mr. Pizza’s for lunch, but all in all it had still been a nice day.

Mr. Fitzpatrick kept him well supplied with lemonade, sandwiches and pleasant conversation, and it helped take the teen’s mind off the impending start of the school year in just a couple of weeks.

Taking a quick shower, he debated what to do with himself.  Frank hadn’t returned from the airport yet and he had no idea if his brother was even coming straight back here or if he had plans with Callie or something.

That made him grin - what was Frank in such a good mood about? Did it have anything to do with his vivacious girlfriend?  One petite blond with big brown eyes certainly knew how to keep the older boy on his toes!

Although Joe knew he wasn’t one to talk.  His own girlfriend, Vanessa Bender, usually kept him on alert as well.  However he was on a reprieve right now as Vanessa and her Mom were gone to California until next week.

Thinking of Vanessa made him sigh; he missed her terribly.

He was just pulling on a pair of shorts when someone knocked on the bedroom door.

“Come in, Dad,” Joe said as he opened his drawer to look for a cool t-shirt to wear - the day was too humid for anything dark or heavy.

That had been the worst thing about working on the truck today - he’d had to wear his overalls, and they were like working in a sauna suit! The blond teen was sure he’d lost ten pounds today, working in this heat!

“How’d you know it was me?” Fenton asked as he opened the door and stepped into the ‘danger zone’ aka, Joe’s bedroom.

“Well a couple of things, actually,” Joe drawled out with a mischievous look, “but mostly because Frank took Mom to the airport and he’s not back…and I hadn’t heard you leave yet.”

“I could have left, or Frank could have gotten home, while you were in the shower,” Fenton pointed out as he watched his son run his fingers through his damp hair to try and restore it to some semblance of order.

“True,” Joe conceded, with a shrug, but then grinned at his father, “but if you were Frank, you’d never have knocked!”

“All right, you got me,” Fenton laughed and then added, “and you answered the question I was just going to ask you about where your mother and brother are.  Frank took your mom to the airport?”

“She’s gone to New York, that’s all I know,” Joe added as he went into the bathroom he shared with Frank to brush his teeth.  When he finished, he rinsed his mouth, wiped it and then glanced at his father who was still standing in his bedroom.  “I guess it’s on a need-to-know basis and you and I, father dear, obviously don’t need to know!”

Fenton nodded, distractedly, realizing he’d have to wait until Frank got back, or Laura called, to find anything further out about this unexpected trip.  He just hoped nothing was wrong. Laura didn’t usually up and go away like this.  Not voluntarily anyway.

So instead he asked his son, “What are your plans for the rest of the afternoon?”

Joe shrugged.  “Hanging out here, I guess, until Frank comes home. That’s pretty much about it.”

Fenton was still thinking about the phone call.  Although he was sure he was overreacting, he decided that he didn’t want Joe hanging out around the house by himself.

“Any idea when Frank’s going to be back?” he asked his son.

“Nope,” Joe admitted, “and he left his cell on the bed.  I tried calling it before I took a shower,” he added by way of explanation.  While he and Frank were close, they respected each other’s privacy and didn’t just wander into the other’s rooms while they were gone, without a reason.

The detective contemplated that for a moment and then asked, “I’ve got to go to the storage room to get a file, wanna come?”

“Sure,” Joe said, delighted to be asked along.  He was hoping that maybe his father had another case that he’d need his and Frank’s help on!

“Good, grab your sneakers, I’ll be in the car,” Fenton said, pleased that his son was enthusiastic about going with him.  He might be overreacting about all this, but if nothing else it would afford him some alone time with his younger son.

Scribbling a quick note for Frank, Fenton tacked it on the fridge and then went outside to wait for Joe.