Joe’s mind was racing.

He’d continued trying to call Pharaoh but the phone just kept ringing and ringing. 

The more he thought about it, the more uneasy he became.  It wasn’t like the older boy not to answer his phone.  He once told Joe that it felt more like an extra arm or leg than an electronic device. 

Joe’d even tried calling the house, but there was no answer there either – and that was when he knew for sure something was wrong, really wrong; there was always someone at that house!

Never a fan of flying under the best of circumstances, the teen had to resist the temptation to do something drastic to calm his nerves…. As if the flight itself wasn’t bad enough, this would be the first time he went to the island as himself, just Joe Hardy. 

Looking at his watch, which was still set on Bayport time, Joe knew it would be very early, local time, before he got to the house, so he decided he’d better call his parents now before his nerves were totally shot.

No use putting it off – they’d be even less impressed about this if he didn’t and they found out he wasn’t at school!

Joe shuddered at that thought – they’d been burying him too much recently as it was!

His first instinct was actually to call Frank, but remembering his brother’s current mood, he decided it’d be better to hold off on that right now…because as soon as the older boy found out where Joe was going, he’d insist on going with him.

Not because of anything other than the fact that he felt responsible for Joe.  And that isn’t what he wanted.  If Frank was going to go with him, he wanted it to be because Frank really wanted to, and not just because he felt Joe couldn’t do anything right!

Part of him told him he was being unreasonable, but Joe was hurting more then he cared to admit over what had happened this morning.

* * *

His mother answered the phone, breathlessly, after the third ring, “Hello!”

“Are you okay?”  Joe asked, instantly worried.

“Oh yes, sweetie, I was in the garden…is anything wrong?”  she asked, wondering why Joe was calling her during his lunch break.

“Well no…I don’t think so,” the teen started slowly, “but I did get a weird call from Pharaoh….He needs me to come over, right away!”  It was almost the truth.

Laura was torn; she knew how Joe felt about Pharaoh, and that he would want to rush right over, but she also worried that that might not be such a good idea in light of everything that had just happened.

“Well honey, why don’t you wait until your dad gets home and we can talk about it…” and then she paused.  “Joe…sweetie…are you on a plane??” 

“Err…well yes, as a matter of fact.  Mom, it’s important!  Look don’t worry, I should be back in a couple of days, the weekend at the latest!  Just tell Dad and Frank, okay?  And tell them not to worry, I’ll be with Pharaoh and that’s just as safe as being at home,” he told her, failing to see the irony of that statement. 

Laura recognized the determined tone in Joe’s voice, and it was too late to argue with him now that he was on the plane, anyway.  She sighed.  “Okay…just be careful, and call as soon as you get there, or if you need anything.  But I am warning you now…Joseph Paul Hardy, if you do not call me…or are not home by Saturday evening – at the latest! – I will send your brother after you.” 

Joe laughed, told her he loved her and hung up.  He felt a little better - at least he’d bought some time and he hadn’t really lied.

Pharaoh had asked for his help….

* * *

By the time Frank got home, he really needed to talk to Joe.

When Tony told them that Joe had been at the cemetery, it brought back a surge of emotions about his own insomnia and need for graveside solace when he thought his brother was dead.

Frank just wished Joe would come to him, like he used to whenever things got to be too much – he didn’t understand what had built this rift between them.

“Is Joe in his room?” he asked his mother as he hung his coat and started up the stairs, but her voice stopped him.  “No…Frank, he’s gone away for a couple of days.”

When she didn’t elaborate, Frank pressed, “Where’d he go?”

“When he was at school this morning, he got an urgent call from Pharaoh and left   immediately…but promised he’d be home no later then Saturday.” 

Frank froze.  So Joe did go to school this morning….Frustrated, he ran a hand across his face.  Why didn’t Joe tell him about the call or ask him to go with him??

But thinking back to the morning, the older boy sighed.  Maybe if he’d calmed down a little and waited to go to school with Joe, then he would’ve been there when Pharaoh called.  Then he’d know exactly what was going on! 

If something was wrong, Joe wouldn’t tell their mother because she’d worry, but if Frank had been there, it would have been pretty hard to hide it from him.

Laura recognized his stricken look.  “Frank, he assured me that everything was all right, he just said that Pharaoh needed his help right away.”   Her next comment didn’t make him feel any better, either, “And he did say that he’d be just as safe with Pharaoh as he would be at home.” 

“Does Dad know yet?”

“No, but he should be home any minute.”

Frank grabbed a glass of milk and sat down to wait.  He wanted to hop on the next plane and go after Joe, but he decided to see what his father thought, maybe he knew something Frank didn’t.

* * *

Joe tried to call once more and this time, after the third ring, he heard a click. 

Heartened, he expected to hear Pharaoh’s voice, but instead he heard nothing. 

Quickly redialing, he was surprised to get a message telling him that the caller was not available – someone had turned off the phone! 

If Joe could have gotten out of the plane and pushed it from behind to make it go faster, he would have. 

Damn it, he thought, why didn’t I take the Concorde?!  Even with having to get a connecting flight, I would have gotten there faster.

* * *

Fenton Hardy stared thoughtfully at his dark-haired son.  God, he looks like me, he thought before making a decision.

“I think it’s time you went on a vacation – you’ve been under a lot of stress lately and look like you could use the rest.”

Frank was puzzled, where’d that come from?

His father, enjoying the look on his face, continued, “Take the next flight out, but don’t tell your brother.  Keep a low profile but stay around just in case he needs your help.  I’d go myself but I really need to try and tie up this case I’m working on.”

“So would I, sweetie,” “cut in his mother, “but we are already understaffed at the center, due to that horrible flu that’s going around.”

“So,” continued his father, “ask one of your friends to go with you.  I’ll make the arrangements and talk to your school.”

“I’ll ask Tony,” Frank said immediately, relieved by his father’s suggestion.  He knew that Tony was busy, but given the demographics of the area, Italian-blooded Tony would be an asset to help blend in. 

“Remember Frank, there is probably nothing wrong, so give Joe a wide berth.  I don’t want him to think we don’t trust him, I just want you to be close by…well, just in case.  I’ll talk to Mr. Prito, maybe Chet or Biff can help out in Tony’s absence.”

* * *

Tony was elated; it had been a long time since he had been to the Mediterranean.  Aldo Prito, although a little concerned about Tony missing school, decided that a vacation might be good.  And having known the brothers for a long time, the affable father was quite fond of them and felt Fenton was making a wise decision.

So three hours later, Tony met Frank at the airport with his passport.  Just as Frank saw his olive-skinned friend, his cell rang.  It was his father.

[Son, can you do me a little favor before you board your flight?]  Fenton asked.

Frank detected a hint something in his voice and he became a bit wary.  He recognized the tone…it was the same tone Joe used when he was up to something!

“Sure,” he said hesitantly.

“I’ve sent a few extra things to the airport that I thought you could use.  They’re waiting for you at the lost and found.”   Fenton hung up before Frank could hear him laughing.

Curious, he and Tony headed towards the back of the airport. 

The older Hardy boy was so engrossed in trying to figure out what he was going to do once they got to the island that he ran into a tall blond-haired young man. 

He started to apologize to the young man when he stared at him surprise – it was Biff Hooper!  He was standing there holding an overnight bag in one hand, and a plane ticket in the other.

“Biff what are—”  his voice cut off when he also saw Chet and Phil standing there, each holding their own bags and plane tickets.

“When I called your Dad to see how Joe was doing, he told me what was going on….So I decided that I could use a vacation as well,” grinned Chet.

“Me too,” piped Biff, “once I heard you guys were trying to hog all those beautiful beach babes, I was in – although I’ll admit, it did take your dad to help get me off on good behavior,” he retorted, as he was still grounded for a few more days.

“And me,” finished Phil, “heck, you’re my lab partner; I’m not going to do the Chapter 8 experiment by myself – it looks too dangerous!!”  He rolled his eyes for emphasis.

Frank laughed and shook his head, realizing that these were the “extra things” that his dad had sent to the airport.  And then he turned to Biff.  “What makes you think there’s going to be beautiful beach babes?”

“Two things.  First, because I’ve already been there…provided, it was under less-than-ideal circumstances, but I do remember seeing a beach or two.  And secondly, because…aren’t there always?”  His pale blue eyes twinkled merrily and his mirth was infectious!

Amid the out roar of his friends’ laughter, Frank managed to just hear the final boarding call for their flight.  The boys took off for the overseas gate at full tilt.

* * *

Joe wasn’t feeling as jovial as the other boys, who would be getting off at the same terminal a few hours after he did.  It was very early in the morning and he was now bordering on exhaustion. 

All he wanted to do was get to the house, beat some sense into Pharaoh, and get some sleep.  Although right now, he was not too particular in what order those things happened. 

Looking around the near empty terminal, the teen wished he’d gotten through to the house so they could have, at least, sent a car for him – what was going on??

Although it was still dark, the early morning air was warm, and Joe breathed in the wonderful smell of the ocean as he looked around for a taxi.  It was a small terminal but he was sure that there would be at least one taxi around.

A long sleek black limo pulled up next to him, the driver got out, opened up the back door and smiled at him, “Joe Hardy?”

Confused, he hesitated only a moment before getting into the open door, what did he have to lose?

The driver got back into the car and pulled away from the curb.  “Plythe House?” the man asked to verify whether or not Joe was going there directly or via some other stops.

Just as I thought, Joe surmised, it was some sort of stupid prank.  After all, who else would send a car for him?

Feeling relieved, Joe said, “Yes, please,” before he laid his head back against the seat and was asleep almost immediately.

* * *

In what seemed like a second later, Joe awoke to the familiar sound of the black gates of the estate swinging open, and gasped when he saw the house – he’d forgotten just how impressive it was….And he’d only been gone a couple of weeks!  The sun was just rising, and the house was silhouetted, large and majestic against the morning sky.

As the limo was pulling to a stop, Joe knocked on the window to have the driver lower the privacy screen.

“Yes?” asked the man in a soft Mediterranean accent.

“Who sent you to pick me up?”  Joe asked.  He wanted to know if there were going to be any surprise visitors in the house. 

“Nobody,” the driver replied.  When Joe looked confused, his face broke into a wide friendly grin.

“We have standing orders to monitor all passenger manifests for Joseph or Joe Hardy or Remus Plyth.  A limo is to be immediately dispatched to meet you when you arrive.  Mr. Pharaoh has had this arrangement since your departure.  Good day, sir.”

As the screen slid back up, Joe was impressed.  He felt like royalty.

However, this feeling was soon dismissed when he opened the large oak door and entered the front hall.  Although he no longer lived there, Joe still felt like it was his home, and it never even occurred to him to knock. 

A smell of gardenias wafted past his nose, and he paled for a moment as he remembered the last time he had smelt that perfume was the night when Andreya had tried to seduce him….Hastily shoving that memory aside, he called out loudly, “Hello?  Anyone home??”

It was early but this was the house that never slept.

As Joe’s voice echoed through the house for one brief minute, he thought that it must have been deserted.  But then he heard the sound of a door closing towards the back of the house – the kitchen. 

Hoping it was Pharaoh but worried that it might have been a prowler, Joe quietly made his way towards the kitchen and pushed open the door…and was immediately under attack….

By a small, dark skinned old woman wielding a wooden spoon!!