I called Eddie first thing in the morning and he agreed to meet us at a nearby diner. I grabbed a shower, relieved to see the last of the blue dye washing out, then after getting dressed, I roused Joe. “Hey, baby brother, up and at ‘em.”

“G’way. Too early for noise.”

“Come on, Joe, we’re meeting Eddie in half an hour.”

“I’d rather meet Jenna. Go on without me.”

I yanked the covers off of him. “Get up.”

“Give me back my covers.”

“No.”

Joe sighed and sat up. “You are a slave driver.”

I shrugged. “Whatever. Go grab a shower.”

Joe grunted and got out of bed. He got some clothes and headed for the bathroom only to come out two seconds later. “Your hair – it’s back to normal.”

“Yes, and I’m feeling good. Hurry up.”

Joe muttered something and went back into the bathroom. While I waited for him, I repacked my duffle. My knee was still sore and I had a slight limp but I knew it would work itself out in a little while. The hot shower had eased the soreness, although I had a spectacular bruise.

Joe came out, his blond hair wet and without a trace of orange. He was dressed but didn’t look happy about it. “All right, wherever we meet him, there’d better be food.”

I rolled my eyes and we left the hotel room. Joe followed me down to the parking garage where the bikes were and we left. The diner wasn’t far but it was a little hole-in-the-wall place not many teenagers frequented. Eddie was already there.

Joe stared. “Eddie, wow, looking good, dude.”

Without the bandana, Eddie was like a totally different person. His hair was neatly combed and instead of skateboard gear, he was wearing a button-down shirt and khaki pants. “Hey, guys.”

I sat down at the booth. When the waitress came by, Joe ordered breakfast. I asked for a little something but Eddie didn’t want anything. “I guess you’re wondering why Carter had wanted Ollie dead.”

“The thought did cross our minds,” said Joe.

Eddie sighed. “Here’s our theory. Ollie may have resented Carter for becoming a hero after the accident in 1990. Some of the papers barely mentioned Ollie’s awards and reputation in the skateboarding community. They focused on this young resourceful paramedic, fresh out of school. He was a poor kid from Philly who worked a bunch of jobs to pay for medical school...an everyday hero who saved a man’s leg and looked good in photographs.”

Joe and I nodded. Eddie waited until the waitress gave us our breakfast and left. Then he went on. “Okay, years later, Ollie has his skateboarding shop. He probably forgot all about the kid who got famous from his tragedy. Then one day Ollie buys the evening edition of the Freedom Press and there’s that same paramedic – and he’s a big hero again. So what does Ollie do? Well, we traced his phone records and found out that he called information and got Carter’s number. He called Carter, talked for two minutes and then dialed up the Freedom Press.”

“Maxwell Monroe told us that Ollie left a message at his office,” I said. “He wanted to talk to the reporter about Mr. X.”

“Ollie obviously suspected Carter Bean,” said Eddie. “We believe he called Carter on the phone to question him or accuse him – or maybe just harass him. Either way, Carter felt threatened. Ollie had to be silenced. So Carter stole some medication from the hospital and slipped a fatal dose in Ollie’s coffee.”

Joe wolfed down his breakfast. “Okay, that explains Ollie. How did you know we were meeting Mr. X at midnight in Love Park?”

“I was at the party last night. When I saw you two and your pal leave, I asked Jenna where you were going. She told me Love Park. So I headed in that direction.”

Joe finished off his milk and shoved his empty plate away. “Well, you came just in the nick of time.”

Eddie shrugged. “Hey, you managed to knock Landry off balance enough to do something stupid. I was just returning the favor.”

“So he really was just trying for revenge on skateboarders?” I asked.

“Looks like it. He had all the hardware to make another bomb. Apparently it was hidden in the half-pipe. It was on a timer and was set to go off right before Jacobson finished his second run.”

Joe shook his head. “Sick.”

Eddie got to his feet. “Hey, see you guys around.” He sketched a wave and was gone.

I finished my breakfast and we headed back to the hotel. We finished packing our stuff and went downstairs to check out. As we were leaving, we found Jenna and Chet waiting in the lobby. Jebediah Green was with them.

“Jeb, how are you feeling?” asked Joe.

“Not bad. Just a little sore. So how are you guys?”

I shrugged. “We’re good. Thanks for sending us those clippings. They helped us figure out who Mr. X was.”

“Ah, yes. The Maniac Medic,” said Jeb, holding up a copy of the Freedom Press. “That’s one twisted dude.”

I nodded as Joe moved off a little ways with Jenna. They swapped pieces of paper and I figured it was email addresses. I told Jeb and Chet good-bye. Chet and his dad were heading home tomorrow, so we would see him later.

Jenna came over to wish us a safe trip home. She hugged both of us and gave Joe a kiss on the cheek. I rolled my eyes and straddled my ‘cycle. “Come on, Joe, we have to head home.”

“Okay, okay. See you later, Jenna. We’ll try to make it to Atlantic City later this summer.”

She grinned. “Sounds good.”

We put on our helmets, waved good-bye and headed for the Interstate. The ride home was a nice way to unwind after what we’d been through. The sky was blue and clear and our motorcycles just ate up the highway.

In a couple of hours, we roared into our hometown and turned down the street to our house. Suddenly, I remembered and made a u-turn. I motioned Joe to follow me. He held up his hands in a ‘Do-what?’ gesture but I kept going. He followed me all the way to the Bayport Auto Garage.

Joe pulled off his helmet and sighed. “That would have been difficult to explain. Leave in a van, come back on ‘cycles.”

“Hey, guys, enjoy your ride?” asked Butch as he met us at the door. “Van’s back here, ready to go.”

“Thanks, Butch.” We loaded the bikes in the back of the van and got in front. Joe shifted in his seat. “Feels weird.”

I nodded. I still felt like I was riding the motorcycle. “You know, we can’t hide the ‘cycles for ever.”

“Yeah, but we’ll try to break it to Mom and Aunt Gertrude gently.”

We waved good bye to Butch and headed home. We parked in the driveway and got out. I tried not to limp as I made it to the door.

We walked inside to find Aunt Gertrude busy taking down curtains. She glanced over at us. “Well, about time you two made it home. I have a job for you.”

I shared a look with Joe and sighed. Home sweet home.

The End

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Disclaimer

The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The authors have just borrowed them for an adventure or two. The authors promise to put the boys back when they are done with them. The authors do claim copyright to the original characters in this story. Please do not borrow original characters without express permission of the authors.