hardy boys fan fiction
TRIAL BY FIRE
hardy boys nancy drew fan fiction
by
PiperMerlyn
Chapter 16
hardy boys fan fiction
THE CHAPTERS
"Well?"
"Well what?"
"Where is he?"
"Where's who?"
"Adrian, I'm not in the mood."
"Hell, neither am I. But visuals help."
Ian Ramsey stared at the drummer, then groaned. "Where---is---Marcus?" he asked slowly, like he was talking to a young child.
"He took off."
"Took off where?"
"Ah, ah, ah." Savannah shook her head as she came into the parlor. "That's grammatically incorrect. It's took off what."
"Ha, neither of you endured English for five years. You're both wrong," said Erick, coming in right behind her.
Ian frowned. "Five years? You only went to college one semester."
"He failed nineth. Anybody seen Joe?" said Ethan, poking his head in the doorway.
Erick scowled over at his brother. "That's not true. Mom wanted me held back. She didn't think I was ready for high school."
"Sure. Keep telling yourself that."
"Nineth grade is high school," said Ian.
"Yeah. Now."
Ian looked from Erick to Ethan, then back to Erick. "Now? When was it not high school?"
"In Louisiana, 1978," said Kari. "That was when sixth grade was moved to junior high and nineth was moved to high school."
"Now that's screwy. Why not leave everythng right where it was?" asked Ian.
"When did school boards and governments not do something screwy," said Adrian, still engrossed in his magazine.
"Now that's scary," said Savannah.
"Yeah," grinned Erick. "He actually made sense."
"This has been fun. Such a in-depth discussion is so rewarding. Has anybody seen Joe?"
Ian glared at him. "Keep it up, Ethan, and you'll be doing the Wedding March a cappella."
"Now that's virtually impossible," Savannah pointed out."
Ethan grunted. "Thanks for all your help. I'll look for him elsewhere."
"Touchy, touchy," muttered Ian.
"Aw, cut him some slack. He's getting married in the morning," said Adrian.
"Not morning," said Erick, sounding peeved. "The middle of the night."
Kari shook her head. "All of you are such babies. Dawn usually means sunrise."
"So? The only people who get up at that ungodly hour are farmers and fishermen." Erick plopped down in a chair, disgruntled. "Why do you think I didn't become a farmer or a fisherman?"
"Don't like raw fish," asked Adrian.
Ian ripped Adrian's magazine out of his hands, rolled it up and bopped the drummer on the head. "Err, wrong answer." He held both hands up, one still holding the rolled up magazine. "And....survey says?"
Savannah cocked her dark head to one side, thoughtful. "He's lazy?"
"Hey!"
"Yes! Number one answer."
Kari laughed. "What's number two?"
"He's lazy?" suggested Ian.
"Why aren't the lot of you rehearsing?" Carl Dixon in his faded khakis and workshirt looked out of place in the elegant parlor.
Ian slapped his palm against his forehead. "I knew I was forgetting something."
"Where's Marc?" asked Carl.
"Gone," answered Erick.
"Where?"
Adrian shrugged. "We were gonna ask you. I wonder if there have been a rash of UFO sightings lately."
Ian shook his head. "UFOs? What have you been reading, young man?" he asked, unrolling the magazine and opening it. His frown faded and he let out a low whistle as he turned the magazine sideways and let it fall open to its center.
"Let me see," said Erick, bouncing to his feet.
Savannah recognized the cover now that she could see it. "Oh no you don't."
Ian had a dazed look on his face. "Miss March would give Ares a heart-attack."
Kari sighed and looked at Carl. "Should we postpone rehearsal? Ian's going to be awhile."
"Can't rehearse anyway," said Savannah, sighing as Erick lookd over Ian's shoulder. "Marc's not here."
"And no one knows where he went?" asked Carl, shaking his head.
"Well, an hour ago, he was having a conniption fit," answered Kari with a shrug. "Casi borrowed his Harley again."
"Yeah, if she wasn't his sister, he'd probably have called the cops," said Erick, distractedly.
Carl rolled his eyes. "If she does it again, he probably will."
Adrian snatched the magazine out of Ian's hands. "Mine."
"Aw, come on, Adrain," said Erick.
"Not if you value your life," said Savannah, shooting him a glare.
"It's a common misconception," stated Ian, his dazed look fading. "Due to the false histories portrayed by television and cinema, didn't you know Ares liked ugly women."
Kari rolled her blue eyes. "Yeah, right. And Zeus was monogamous."
"That's like saying Medusa was pretty," agreed Savannah.
Carl threw his hands up in the air. "If I'd wanted a lesson in Greek mythology, I wou ld have gone back to school." He shook his head again as he turned to leave. "God help me, I'm surrounded by post-adolescents."
Ian watched their manager leave. "He was in a good mood."
"Yeah, Mr. Congeniality himself," said Erick, sarcastically.
"Kind of makes you wonder what he's up to."
"Probably planning the tour from hell."
"So his real name is Mephistopheles?" asked Savannah, grinning.
Ian groaned and looked over at her. "You've been listening to the Police again."
"Like that's a crime," said Adrian.
"Well, in my opinion, it is," said Erick.
Savannah gave a very unladylike snort. "Like your opinion matters."
"Ouch," muttered Ian. "Now who's touchy?"
Adrian held onto his Playboy magazine tightly, and stood up. "I think Marc had a good idea. Let's vamoose."
Erick crossed his eyes at Adrian, prompting Savannah to slap his arms. "Stop that," she said.
Erick ignored her. "Marc's not here," he told Adrian.
Kari sighed. "He means---" She shook her head. "Never mind."
Slowly, they exited the parlor. Ian sidestepped Kari and patted her shoulder. "You're on the right path at last."
"What path?"
"That all of us are hopeless. Welcome to the club."
"Of course, it's all a matter of opinion. The guys are the hopeless ones," said Savannah as she and Kari left.
Ian frowned as they walked away. "Hey!"
***
"Hey, is anybody home?"
"Shh. Just because you're related, doesn't mean you can be rude."
"God, where's the camera? There's something about Castle MacFairlaigne at springtime that takes your breath away."
"Apparently, it's something every season. I take it when you retire it won't be in Naples." The slam of a car door echoed in the lazy afternoon air.
"Mother, where is it?"
"Ah, fancy meeting you here."
"Ho, wouldn't be a major event, now would it?"
"Weren't we here just a few weeks ago?"
"You weren't here. I was here."
"I was here for the reception."
Casi grinned and leaned out of the window of the tower room. "Hey!"
A tall man, his sunstreaked dark hair looking shaggy, looked up, startled. "Saint's preserve us, girl, you'll fall out of that tower yet."
"Oh be quiet, Uncle Richard. I've been doing this for years." Casi waved at the crowd of relations getting out of rental cars and stretching kinks out of joints. "Hey, everybody."
Everyone waved back as Casi ducked back into the room, hurried out and down the stairs. She entered the foyer just as Catherine opened the double front doors. Thirteen-year-old Kyra Wolfe burst in. "Cat, hey, congrats!"
Casi grinned as she joined her sister. Catherine ruffled Kyra's short bob of golden hair. "Hey, yourelf, squirt."
"Squirt?" Kyra drew herself up to her full height. "I'll have you know I grew three inches over the winter. See, I'm almost as tall as you, Hiya, Case."
"Hi, Kyra, looking good."
"Where's the blushing bride?" Richard MacFairlaigne strolled in, a very well-equipped Nikon camera hanging from a strap slung over his shoulder. "Ahh, there you are, my girl." He put his hands on his hips. "Now what in God's name is wrong with a double wedding?"
"Hush, Richard." His wife came up behind him and smiled. "As you recall, we couldn't make it to Donovan's wedding anyway. Hello, Catherine, Cassandra."
Casi hugged her aunt. "Hi, Aunt Dria. Who's keeping an eye on the reserve?"
Richard grunted. "Gotta trust the offspring sometime."
Alessandria shook her head. "We also scheduled our next two safari groups after the twenty-second, so Marysa and the boys won't be overwhelmed."
"I take it you don't trust anyone else for the task?" asked Ashton Wolfe, a big blond bear of a man with a booming voice, as he came in.
Richard shrugged. "A big-game reserve is a little different from a logging company, Ash."
"True, true." Ashton glanced at Casi. "Is Lyra coming?"
Casi shook her head. "She and Sam are tending shop. Jareth and Zoe are supposed to be here tonight."
Oriana, a slim woman with long dark hair, came in. "Ash, Kyra's looking for her makeup kit. Where'd you stash it? Hello, Casi, Cat."
"Good Lord, I keep saying she's too young for that stuff."
"Aw, Dad," protested Kyra.
Oriana sighed as he went to look for the makeup kit. "He doesn't seem to understand that all the girls wear it nowadays."
Casi patted her arm. "All fathers go through a denial stage. They don't want their little girls growing up."
"Maybe," said Richard. "And then some of us totally skip that stage."
"Oh, really." Alessandria's Italian accent grew stronger. "Why don't you let Marysa date?"
"She's too busy to date."
"And who's fault is that?"
"Not mine. Marysa has eyes only for that Kincaid boy anyway."
Alessandria arched one dark eyebrow. "That's not the same Kincaid boy she wanted to bash in the head the other night, is it?"
"That sounds familiar," whispered Catherine, to her sister.
"You hush," Casi whispered back.
"I thought I heard voices." William MacFairlaigne came out of his study. "Richard, I see you survived another year on the dark continent."
"Ah, brother, it's no longer the mystery-filled land Burroughs conveyed in his stories and considering all the trips you made over the years, you should damn well know that."
William grinned at his younger brother. "Really, Richard, you're getting testy in your old age."
"Ha!"
"Here, Kyra, happy?"
"Oh, you found it. Thanks, Dad."
"Who else is coming?" asked Oriana.
"Jareth and Zoe, I believe. Lucian and Morgana can't come, it's the start of their season and the inn's booked for months," answered Catherine. "Although I think Dannon and Raven were coming."
Casi shook her head. "They can't miss any more school."
Oriana patted her youngest daughter's shoulder. "Now do you understand?"
Kyra gave a huge sigh. "Yes, mother."
"What about Mike?" asked Richard.
William shook his head. "Only if she can catch a late flight. Her travel agency's always busy this time of year. She and James couldn't make it to Donovan's either."
"Inconsiderate, if you ask me. What's wrong with June?"
Casi turned to see her Aunt Alyssa walk in. "Aunt Lyssa, you made it." She gave her mother's sister a bearhug.
Alyssa smiled. "Couldn't miss this. So where is Ally?"
"Here. Hey, sis."
The two sisters--with the same dark auburn hair and fair skin--could pass for twins themselves. They hugged each other and Alyssa sighed. "Mom and Dad are coming on a later flight. Dad lost the tickets."
Catherine shook her head. "Gramps would lose his head if it wasn't attached. I've finally figured out why Mom's so scatterbrained."
"Excuse me?" said Alannah archly.
Casi laughed. "And here I thought it was because Mom was an archeologist and a professor."
Alannah snorted. "Very funny."
The entryway became crowded with luggage--the Wolfes and the Cantwells, Alyssa and Lucas--were staying on through Sunday while everyone else would be leaving after the reception Wednesday. Ashton Wolfe shook his head and gestured to several suitcases. "Really, Kyra, we're just staying a few days, we're not moving."
"So who's Kincaid?" asked William. "He wasn't there last time we were there."
"Liam, you haven't been there in five years," answered Richard, sardonically.
"Well, it's one thing to drag teenagers on a trip but once they get a job and such, it's like pulling eye-teeth just to get them to call."
"That's not true," protested Casi. "I call."
"Not exactly, sweetheart. We usually call you," said Alannah.
"So where's the future husband?" asked Lucas Cantwell. "Don't tell me we scared him away."
Catherine rolled her eyes. "Hardly, Uncle Lucas. He's from a big family too."
"God help us, then, we don't need that many in-laws."
"Shush, Richard," said his wife. She turned to Catherine. "So do you have everything? It's tradition, you know."
"Yes, Aunt Dria. Something borrowed, Mom's wedding dress; something blue, the turquoise earrings of mine."
"Something old," added Casi. "Gran's veil. I can't believe it lasted alll these years."
"It's real Belgian lace, not tulle," explained Catherine.
"Wow," said Kyra. "It must be pretty."
"It is. And something new is my garter."
"What's a garter?" asked Kyra.
Casi smiled. "In the old days when women wore silk stockings instead of pantyhose, they wore fabric covered elastic to hold up the stockings. The garters got to be really frilly and fancy."
"Now it's what the guys throw." Donovan came up to the group.
Wondered what all the racket was. Hey, Kyra."
"Hey, D.K., sorry I missed your wedding. I had a dance I had to go to."
"Dance? You? How old are you?"
"Thirteen."
He shook his head, teasing her. "What's the world coming to?"
She grinned. "Oh hush, D.K."
Ashton took a deep breath and sighed. "Same room assignments?"
Alannah grinned. "Don't tell me you forgot, Ash. You were here a month ago."
"Yes, I was, wasn't I. Now which room is it?"
Alessandria patted Oriana's shoulder. "They say the mind is the first to go."
Oriana's goldbrown eyes widened. "Really? I'd always heard..." She leaned close and dropped her voice to a whisper.
Alessandria laughed. "Now I'd wager that that's true."
Richard frowned. "What now?"
Alessandria shook her head. "You wouldn't want to know, dear."
"But I would," said Kyra. "What, Mom?"
Oriana sighed and looked at Alannah. "Thirteen is such a trying age."
Alyssa cocked an eyebrow. "For you or her?"
"I heard that," said Kyra with a pout.
Ashton chuckled and hefted two suitcases. "Who do you think?"
Casi headed for the door, motioning for Kyra to come with her. Once outside, the good-natured bantering faded to a dull roar. "Come on, Kyra, let's take a walk."
Kyra shuffled behind her, arms folded across her chest, head down, her eyes focused on the ground. "Mom's still a little upset."
"That much I gathered." Casi turned to look at her. "About what?"
Kyra sighed and stared off at a row of rosebushes that marked a property line. "The night of the Valentine Day's dance, I stayed over at Staci's house. Our curfew was eleven. But Staci's mom was out on a date with her boyfriend." She sneaked a glance at Casi who nodded for her to go on. Kyra sighed again. "Staci and I didn't go straight home. To her house, I mean. Staci's boyfriend Paul said there was a party at his place. He said his brother could come get us and take us over there."
Casi looked over at the old homestead, barely visible at this angle. "Come on. You can finish telling me at the old ruins."
"I thought it would be fun," said Kyra as she followed Casi around the castle's east tower. "No chaperones, no parents. I didn't know Paul's brother Ronnie knew Terry Newell."
"Who's he?"
"This dude who got expelled permanently from high school for dealing drugs. He's sixteen and mean-looking. It was a dope party."
Casi stopped walking and turned to look at her. "So Oriana's upset about the fact Staci's mom wasn't chaperoning you to begin with, then you two go to another party---"
"I didn't do any drugs, Casi. I'm not that crazy."
"I didn't say you were. Too stubborn, maybe, or too reckless..." Casi's voice trailed off as she felt a frisson of deja vu. She cleared her throat. "But not crazy."
"She won't let me talk to Staci or go to her house anymore."
"Can't say I'm surprised. And you're grounded?"
"For six weeks," muttered Kyra, looking quite miserable.
Casi took her by the shoulders, made Kyra look at her. "You scared her, Kyra. Probably scared Ashton too." She pulled her into a bearhug. "You have to be careful these days."
Kyra lowered her eyes. "When I found out that Ronnie knew Newell I was so scared. He didn't like me much, told Ronnie he didn't like outsiders coming to his parties."
"Did you tell your parents that?"
"No."
Casi let go of her, but not before tucking her blond hair behind Kyra's ears. "Maybe you should. Terry Newell sounds dangerous."
"Will you come with me? Shana acted like a totally righteous angel when she found out. She's told me some of the stunts she's pulled and yet she acted as if I'd screwed up so bad I should be locked in the basement."
"The older we get, Kyra, our memories get highly selective. Sometimes too selective," she added, thoughtfully. "Come on, let's go talk to Oriana and Ashton, so you can be happy at least while you're here."
"Did I really screw up that bad?"
"The only thing you're guilty of is poor judgement, Kyra. This time you just got lucky." Casi took the younger girl's hand and started back to the castle, an odd feeling coming over her. Had she been that daresome at that age? As they walked back, she forced herself to see her actions over the years from a parent's point of view. Dear God, no wonder everyone was so overprotective. It's a wonder she'd survived high school herself.
***
"There you are."
"Where?" Marc looked around the game room.
"Do you realize you're over an hour late for rehearsal?"
"So?"
"Actually, it was for the best. Ian was otherwise occupied anyway," said Savannah.
"Doing what?"
"Drooling," answered Kari.
"I was not."
"Drooling over what?" asked Marc, curious.
"I'll have you know there's now a minnow pond in the parlor," said Erick.
"My God, I hope not. That rug is over fifty years old," said Marc. He looked from Erick to Kari. "Over what?"
"Adrian's Playboy magazine. According to Ian, Miss March is to die for."
"Not die. Fall for. You wouldn't want to waste a moment with her."
"Shut up, Erick," said Savannah. "Keep it up and I'll kill her."
"But technically, it's not her fault she's gorgeous. It's the male hormones to blame," said Erick.
"Then I'll just kill you."
"Not the winning argument, there," said Ian, shaking his head.
"Like I'm a lawyer," muttered Erick.
"I thought we were going to rehearse," said Marc.
"Where have you been?"
Marc shrugged. "Riding my Harley."
Ian's blue eyes widened. "No. Did hell freeze over?"
"Casi corrupted him."
"How could a sister corrupt a brother?
"You don't want to know."
"Let's not even go there," said Penny.
"So where's Adrian's naughty magazine?"
"Oh no you don't," said Kari. "We have to rehearse."
"There you are."
"I already said that, C.D."
Carl sighed. "Kari, where's your synth? Erick has to play the Wedding March."
"I'd rather play it on guitar."
"And I believe that was a unanimous vote for....No." said Ian.
"Fine. God, I swear, no more weddings."
"Except your own?"
"Don't get Vannah's hopes up."
Savannah grunted, decidedly unladylike. "As if."
Carl groaned. "Erick."
"Okay, okay." Erick went over to the empty corner where their instruments were set up for practice.. He programmed in the rhythm, the drum beat and assorted instruments. Kari, who'd walked over to him, opened her mouth to protest but Erick shook his head. "Ah, ah, ah. Not a word."
"But---"
Erick splayed his hands on the keys and began to play with the volume at maximum. Everyone clapped their hands over their ears and Carl's shout could barely be heard over the noise. "Stop!"
"What?" Erick frowned. "Not enough bongoes?"
Marc sighed and shook his head. "I guess it was really just a damn fluke, our success." He glared at Erick. "God, man, this isn't some tribal mating dance. It's the Wedding March!"
"And your point is?"
"You've just been unelected to do the Wedding March," snapped Marc.
Erick grunted, glaring at Marc for a full minute. "My God, it's about time."
Carl looked like he was about to go spastic. "What?"
Ian shook his head, disparagingly. "Don't you get it, C.D.? He's been doing all this brain-dead shit to get out of doing the March."
Carl groaned. "Ever heard of the word, no?"
"Not that I recall," said Erick, looking rather unrepentant.
Marc sighed and looked at Carl. "Can't Kari play it and we record it and just play it back at the appropriate time?"
"You think Cat and Ethan will go for that?" asked Savannah, giving Erick a glare.
"Wouldn't hurt to ask," said Ian. "Of course someone could have said something days ago."
Erick grunted. "Oh shut up."
***
The doorbell rang as Casi started up the stairs. With a sigh, she reveresed direction and answered the door. "Hey, Jareth and Zoe. We weren't expecting you till tonight."
Dark-haired Jareth shrugged and loosened his tie. "Caught an earlier flight than planned."
Zoe set down her small carry-on. "Hello, Casi."
Casi gave her a hug, touching her smooth short cap of hair. "Hey, Zoe, you cut your hair."
Zoe's dark brown eyes twinkled. "One of those PMS days."
Casi laughed. "Ah, I understand perfectly."
The woman smiled, the lime green slip dress and wrap enhancing her mocha colored skin. "I had a time calming Jareth though."
Casi rolled her eyes. "Not surprised there."
Jareth shed his suit coat. "I heard that, cousin. I liked Zoe's hair the length it was."
Zoe sighed. "So where's Cat?"
"Upstairs parlor. We're scheming for Kari's birthday party. Come on. Jareth, the guys are somewhere."
Jareth Saxon grunted. "I should've stayed home."
Zoe gave him a gentle shove. "Don't be so down. Go find Donovan, he'll cheer you up."
Jareth arched an eyebrow. "Maybe you're right. I do need to talk to him."
Casi motioned him to go on to the study and watched until he was out of sight. She turned to Zoe. "Okay, what is it?"
"Trouble at work. Managerial problems, I think. I don't know the last time Jareth got a decent night's sleep."
"That bad?"
Zoe shrugged. "I don't know. He hasn't told me much. Only that he wouldn't wish the manager's position on his worst enemy."
Casi nodded. "Donovan says that too. Come on. Either my brother will cheer him up---"
"Don't even say it. When is Kari's birthday?" asked Zoe as they headed upstairs.
"Today. With the wedding and all, it almost got past us."
"I'll say. So how's Catherine?"
Casi led the way to the upstairs parlor. "Fine. She hasn't gotten the jitters yet."
"Ha. I didn't get mine at all, until our wedding night anyway. Of course Mother says I was in shock my entire wedding day."
"I was at your wedding, Zoe. You looked perfectly in control to me."
Zoe's dark eyes twinkled. "You think?"
"Zoe!" Catherine jumped up from the chair she'd been sitting in as they walked into the parlor. "We weren't expecting you till tonight."
Zoe hugged her. "Got lucky, I guess. Hello everyone."
"So what did we decide?" asked Casi, as everyone greeted Zoe individually.
Brittani shrugged. "Why have two parties? Couldn't we just start out with Cat's bachelorette party, then boom! We have Kari's party, complete with strippers."
Alannah cleared her throat. "Where would you find the strippers?"
"One-eight-hundred Chippendale?" suggested Alyssa, a smirk on her face as she looked at her sister. When Alannah tried to swat her arm, she moved out of the way.
"If only it was that easy." Alessandria looked around the room. "Does anybody watch Geraldo? Or Springer?"
Alyssa rolled her eyes. "Not even. Those are so staged."
"Can't But I tape them every day," answered Oriana.
"You watch talk shows," she asked, directing her question to both Oriana and Alessandria.
"It's less expensive and painful than some of the other types of addictions," said Alessandria. "Anyway, the Chippendales were on Geraldo. Eight gorgeous hunks in nothing but g-strings."
Alyssa looked over at her. "Aren't you married?"
"So? Doesn't hurt to look."
Alannah shook her head. "Poor Dria, finally got bored?"
Casi shared a wide-eyed look with her sister, then grinned at the turn the conversation had taken.
Alessandria snorted. "With what? Or should I be assuming who?"
"Happens sooner or later," commented Oriana.
"Oh, that's a cheerful thought for someone to have when someone else is getting married tomorrow," said Zoe, only half-joking.
"The wedding's tomorrow. Oh God."
Casi rolled her eyes. "Cat, stop. You freak and all our plans go to hell in a handbasket."
Catherine grunted. "Yeah, right."
"Anyway," said Brittani. "Technically, the wedding's only fourteen hours away."
"Thank you so much."
Zoe looked at Casi. "What were you saying about jitters?"
Casi grinned. "You hush."
***
Joseph MacKensey set down his glass. "So why did you go into politics?"
Grant Peters shrugged. "It was the only avenue open to me, to give me freedom to do what I want. Being with the Drug Enforcement Agency made me realize just how pernicious drugs were in this country. How many millions are addicted, how many thousands die every day from overdoses or complications. I had to do something."
Joe stared at the half-empty glass, slowly running his fingers up and down the tumbler's outer surface. "So was all the campaigning worth it?"
Grant leaned forward, rested his elbows on the table and sighed heavily. "What the hell do you think, Joe? For every committee, there are ten subcommittees and fifteen mini committees on committees. Politicking is nothing more than a matter of who you know and how much you're willing to fork over."
"You sound more cynical than last time I saw you."
"Yeah, well, the Capitol does it to you."
"Why don't you quit?"
"Because I am f inally making progress in these last few years. Maybe nothing on the grand scale, but progress nonetheless." Grant took a deep breath. "And, believe it or not, you've been instrumental in that progress."
Joe downed the last of the whiskey he'd helped himself to and thunked the glass down on the table. "Me?"
"Why do you think you keep having to track down Hadad's nefarious offspring?"
Joe glared at him. "So...should I be thanking you or plotting your demise?"
"As usual, you exaggerate, cousin."
"Excuse me? Because of you, Lilith's been after me." Joe's fingers tightened on the glass. "Because of you, however indirectly, Bryce is dead."
Grant stared at him. "Wait a damn minute, Joe.."
"No. You wait. Lilith was the sniper that night. She told me."
"She was taunting you. You said yourself---"
Joe shot to his feet. "Shut up, Grant." Very deliberately, very slowly, his muscles tight with anger, grief, and tension, he let go of the glass before he relinquished to the urge and threw it across the room---or at Grant. He stared at the table, forced himself not to look at his cousin. "I used to think Jack's manipulations were annoying enough," he said in a hoarse voice. He shook his head, still wouldn't look at Grant. "You win first prize."
Grant stood up. "Joe..."
"No. Don't say another word."
Grant shook his dark head, his blue eyes concerned. "I never sent you anywhere. That was Jack."
"But you dropped the damn hints, I'm sure. God, Grant, Bryce's only crime was knowing me. Look where it got her." He reached for the glass. It would feel so right to throw the glass, to hear it shatter, the shards glittering everywhere. Joe felt his chest grow tight with grief and he forced his hand away from the tumbler. "She didn't deserve to die."
"No one does."
"Raven does." Joe took a step back from the table. "And I'll be the one to kill her."
"Vengeance gains nothing."
"Someone once said, 'A desk is a dangerous place from which to view the world.' He was right." He took another step back.
Grant frowned. "What do you mean?"
Joe finally looked at his cousin, his blue eyes haunted and full of unshed tears. "She was a good person, worked at a medical clinic, cared for stray animals. Now she's gone. And I hold you responsible. You, and Jack....and...." He felt a tear roll down his cheek. "And me."
"Joe, no."
Joe shook his head, no longer seeing his cousin or their surroundings. Instead he saw Bryce falling aginst him, her brown eyes glazed over, blood staining her white peasant blouse. "I should've known better..." The words came out as if they'd been ripped from his very soul. "I should've known....should've expected retaliation..."
Grant moved around the table quickly, reached out a hand to touch Joe's shoulder. "Joe..."
Joe knocked his hand away, with more force than necessary. "Don't tell me it was just an accident," he said angrily. "Don't you dare try to say it was just random chance. Just...don't say a damn word."
Grant swallowed hard, then looked away. "For what it's worth," he said hoarsely. "I'm sorry."
"Sorry? You think that'l make it all better? She died because she was close to me. She died because of the fact that my job is fatal." Suddenly, Joe spun around and stalked toward the double doors. "Now, maybe, you'll understand why I haven't married. Why the hell would I go through that again?"
Grant studied his cousin for a long moment. "God would never be that cruel to let it happen again."
"You think so, do you?" Joe walked to the entrance, stopped at the door, his hand on the bar that opened the door. "I can't go through that again."
"Joe.." began Grant, following him to the doors.
Joe shook his head and oepend the door. "Don't do me any favors. I don't need your help."
Grant watched him leave and took a deep breath, watching as the afternoon sun glinted off the windshield as Joe pulled out of the parking lot. Without thinking, he splayed his hand against the cool glass of the door, as if he could grab Joe and bring him back. Was Joe right about Bryce's death? That he had caused it?
Staring at the outdoors, the sunlight looking washed out coming through the smoked glass doors, Grant tried a deep cleansing breath. Had he caused the ambush himself? Grant leaned foreward until his forehead touched the glass. Oh God....
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Disclaimer
The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The Hardy Boys Fan Fiction authors of the Hardy Detective Agency 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.