Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

Thursday morning dawned sunny and pleasant, almost cool enough for long sleeves. Cassandra opted for a hand-knitted lavender twin set and a broomstick skirt in a matching lavender floral pattern. She slipped on comfortable tan moccasins. With Morocco being a predominately Muslin country, she knew that skimpy shorts and tops were frowned on, but she wasn't about to start wearing the native djellaba.

Before leaving her hotel room, she reserved passage on a flight to Marrekech leaving that afternoon, then asked the front desk for the best places to eat. Then she slipped her room key and some money into a small pouch that hooked onto the inner waistband of her skirt. She'd traveled often enough to be cautious.

Casi left her hotel room, decided to eat right there in the hotel restaurant, then with a straw hat covering her auburn braid, she left the hotel. Rabat was an old city full of mosques and minnerettes alongside modern office buildings, a mixture of old and new. The air was scented with the ocean and industry and felt fresh and cool. Casi took a deep breath and smiled. Regardless of why she was there, she loved waking up in a new place. She decided to go exploring before she had to focus on why she was here.

She wandered through the noisy, busy marketplace, a souk, eying gorgeous hand-woven rugs and beautifully patterend fabrics. Casi stepped up to a carpet booth, studying colorful rugs, wondering if she should risk buying one. She noticed the carpet seller, a dark-skinned raven-haired man of indeterminate age, watching her hopefully. She moved to touch a rug when she felt it, right between her shoulderblades. Someone was watching her.

Casi moved from the stall, noticing absently the carpet seller's face fell as she left, to another that had hand-carved wood framed mirrors. She gazed from one to another until she found one hanging at the angle she needed. At another stall some distance behind her, stood a man with sandy hair cut very short. He had on dark sunglasses and was hunched over in the middle of bargaining with the seller over what looked to be a bolt of cloth. He had on a lightweight blazer over a snug-fitting white T-shirt and tight jeans that emphasized his long muscular legs. Casi noticed the cowboy boots looked like snakeskin and there was an angular bulge under his blazer.

She studied him a moment longer. Was she being paranoid or was there reason to worry? She'd made no secret she was going to Morocco. She felt a tug on her skirt and she looked down. A little boy, clad only in ragged denim cutoffs, grinned at her, revealing a gapped tooth smile. He rambled off something fast Arabic and raised up one clenched fist. Casi shook her head at him and looked back in the mirror. The man was gone. The little boy tugged on her skirt again and repeated what he'd said. This time he opened his hand and Casi pulled in a hard shocked breath.

"He said you dropped it," said a male voice directly behind her.

No. She didn't. Slowly, she took the silver chain, letting the pearl dangle in the still air. She'd been a fool to bring the pearl. But she hadn't taken it from it's box since she'd packed yesterday. "Thank you."

The man said something to the boy who bowed low and ran off. He reached around, touched the pearl, gently letting it rest in his palm briefly. "You're lucky he didn't take off with it. It must be worth a small fortune."

Casi's grip tightened on the chain and she turned around. Up close, she saw the man was taller than she'd realized. A golden beard covered the lower portion of his face and she could now see the outline of the shoulder holster clearly. "Yes..well, thank you. I'd better go."

"Yes, of course. Can't be too careful these days." He moved to the left to let her pass.

Casi nodded, trying to place his accent. It was from the southern U.S. but there was something different about it. "Thank you."

He smiled and touched the pearl with one finger, starting a pendelum effect. "You're very welcome."

Casi forced herself to stay calm. He was just trying to be helpful. He's got a gun, argued her common sense. Get the hell away from him. "Excuse me."

"May I escort you, ma'am? Save you from the three-foot-tall ruffians?"

Casi cleared her throat, frozen in place as he touched the pearl again. "That's okay, I'd hate to put you out."

"On the contrary, I'm finished here. I have the rest of the day free." Suddenly, he took the necklace from her hands and undid the clasp. "Here, let me put this on, so you don't lose it."

Before Casi could say no, he slipped the chain around her neck, letting the pearl rest just above the neckline of her top. Casi swallowed hard, ready for the sudden wrenching displacement and blacking out. But nothing happened. The man looked at her, concern on his face. "Are you okay? You went white for a second."

Casi took a deep breath. "I---" Sensations came fuzzily...a dusty game of kickball at dusk...getting a new sister....a cozy sunken den with Native American art.....a son...."I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." Casi took a step back, away from the man. "Yeah, I have to go. Thanks again."

He shrugged, stuffed his hands in his jeans' front pockets. Casi had the errant thougth that if he tried to his hands completely in the front pockets, the seams would split apart right there in the middle of the souk. "Anything for a fellow American," he said nonchalantly.

Casi gave him a sharp suspicious look, startled from trying to make sense of those jumbled sensations. Everyone always said she had a faint Irish accent. She swallowed hard. "I need to go."

"Of course." He watched her walk away, her gait stiff as if she suspected he was other than he appeared. He pulled his hands out of his pockets and absently scratched at his left hand. No matter how many times he was on assignment, he felt naked without that ring. And here lately, it made him feel even guiltier.

Maybe he should quit. He'd been thinking about it more and more these days, every time he missed another game or a school play. He started walking for the nearest exit, his hands clenching as anger and resentment flooded through him. This was the last time he'd let his sister talk him into something. He exited the souk and got into his rental car. Behind his sunglasses, his green eyes were hard and cold as ice. "And I can promise you that," he muttered.

***

Casi didn't look back until she got to her hotel room But instead of feeling relieved, she froze in the hall. The door to her hotel room gaped open. A part of her wanted to go down to the front desk, demand a new room. But another part of her resented the fact that the man in the souk had unnerved her. Had he broken in? Or was the intruder still in there?

Sudden anger washed over her at the intrusion. Hitching up her skirt, she stepped forward with her right foot, shifted her weight, then kicked the door wide open with her left foot. Casi waited a moment, then entered the room. A quick check told her what she already suspected. The intruder--the man at the souk?--was gone. But he'd most definitely been there. Her suitcase lay on its side on the floor, clothes dumped on the bed.

In a clear spot on the unmade bed was the box for the pearl. Uneasy, Casi lifted the lid with her left foot before getting closer. Inside was only a calling card. Casi moved closer, pulled the card out. Two rosebuds crossed at the stems was on the front with the words Charms and Potions. Frowning, Casi flipped it over. Only three words were there: It has begun. Down in one corner were the initials L.R.

Angry, Casi ripped the card into small pieces and threw them in the trash can. Lilith Raven's little stunts didn't faze her. With jerky furious motions, Casi repacked her suitcase, not bothering to fold anything. That's when she noticed it. The short set she'd worn yesterday was gone. What was Lilith going to do with her clothes? Put a curse on her? Casi snorted and finished packing, stopping now to fold things. Don't be ridiculous, she told herself. No such thing as curses. She zipped up the suitcase, gathered her purse and left the room.

After checking out, she hailed a taxi for the airport. She'd rather wait there for her flight than anywhere else. She killed time, wandering several times through the airport gift shop and reading year-old magazines, some only looking at the pictures since it was written in Arabic. Finally, her flight was called and she heaved a sigh of relief.

Casi risked a second to watch her baggage disappear along the cargo belt, then headed for her flight gate. Lilith's machinations had knocked her good humor right out of the country. Last night, it had been more of an adventure. Now she was angry. She knew she had taken the short set off to bathe and had set it right beside her suitcase. It was one of her favorite summer outfits, cool, comfortable and stylish. Maybe she was really going over the edge but did Lilith take the short set? But what really made her angry was her answer to the question of why.

Casi knew Joseph MacKensey all too well. If he even halfway thought that Raven had kidnapped her---and wouldn't that be the first thought that hit his brain if he suddenly received a package, her shortset enclosed?--he'd definitely go ballistic, risking whatever assignment he was on...risking his life.

Casi forced herself to smile as the friendly stewardess greeted her in Arabic, French, and English. She let the smile fade the minute she was in her seat by the window. With Lilith's maliciousness, her plans had changed. This was no longer just an adventure or to aggravate a certain blue-eyed blond. She had to get to Marrekech and let Joe know she was okay. Before Lilith played him for a fool. Without thinking, she touched the pearl. Sensations washed through her---feelings, jumbled images that made no earthly sense. The sensations faded when she let go of the pearl. As the plane taxied down the runway and lifted off, Casi closed her eyes and wrapped her left hand around the marble-sized pearl and felt her surroundings fade away.....

***

Joe MacKensey peered through the binoculars at the stately building across the street. Almost as large as the king's palace in Rabat and faced with smooth white plaster over brick, it was surrounded by fruit orchards and flower gardens and a five-foot stone wall topped with two more feet of iron latticework. Tarik Hadad had built it for his family and now three generations later it was headquarters for the family business both legal and illegal. Two men dressed in desert camoflauge guarded the wide front gate. Joe lowered the binoculars and glanced at his brother. "What do you know about Shakira?"

Jon shifted in his chair and sighed. "She's drop dead gorgeous in a Paula Abdul-Yasmine Bleeth kind of way."

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

Joe groaned. "What else?" he asked turning from the window. He'd met his brother at the souk, a neutral place, then they had come here to this old warehouse. The room they were in might have once been storage but now it was empty save for a card table, several metal chairs and old magazines.

Jon shrugged. "Once a week, she goes to the cemetary to visit both her father's and brother's graves. She thinks they're dead."

"Could be all for show, too. What about the house? Any activity?"

Jon shook his head. "That house has been watched since we found out Shakira had moved back here. Nothing."

"What about underground?"

"Underground what? Nothing but sand. Can't tunnel through sand, scientific fact."

"I'll scientific fact your ass. What about under the sand?"

"Is that a trick question?"

"Who comes and goes?" asked Joe with a sigh. His brother was in rare form this morning.

Jon muttered something about younger brothers being royal pests very colorfully for all of two seconds. "The maid," he said finally. "Shakira's personal advisor."

Joe arched an eyebrow. "Personal advisor?"

"Reads the cards, gazes in the crystal ball, all that new-age mind shit."

"It's not shit."

Jon glanced at him, then nodded. "I forgot about her."

"What did you ever have against Yolanda?"

"She was way into that junk. Almost pulled you into it, too."

Joe grunted. "She only read for me twice."

"That stuff'll rot your brain. Past lives, Tarot, psychics, hah, bunch of fakers if you ask me."

"Was I asking you?" Joe peered through the binoculars again. "Anyway, it came true."

"What did?"

Joe took a deep breath, thinking not so much of Yolanda but Casi's Aunt Lyra. "Remember when Dad and Mom took us on that safari?"

"All too damn well. Stupid trip was ten years too late. You realize with all the crap that went on, the least of which you nearly got yourself killed, we never even went on safari?"

"But you saw lions and---"

"And tigers and bears, oh my," retorted Jon, sarcastically.

Joe rolled his eyes and set the binoculars on the window sill. "Shut up and let me finish."

His brother saluted. "Yes sir!"

"Yolanda read for me the night before we left." He pointed a finger at his brother. "And I hadn't told her yet."

"Didn't you have somelame nickname for her? Yo-yo? No, that wasn't---"

"Shut up while you still can. According to the spread---"

"Spread? What spread? I don't see any---"

Joe glared at him and when he shut up, still wearing a goofy grin, he continued. "According to the spread, she said I was about to take an eye-opening trip across water."

Jon grunted. "No, really?"

"Shut up. She also said that the trip would change my life."

"Oh sure."

Joe glanced over his shoulder out the window. "It did. I met Casi there."

"Little Casi MacFairlaigne? Didn't she like save your life?" Suddenly Jon jumped to his feet. "I know. You called her Yoda." Jonathon snapped his fingers and nodded. "Yeah, Yoda hooked you good."

Joe frowned. "Do you think anyone would mind if I beat you senseless?"

"Don't touch the face. You touch my face, I breaka yours."

"Not since fifth grade."

Jon shrugged and headed for the door. "Hey, you did that all to yourself. Like I would've chased you up a tree. Do I look like a cat?"

Joe followed him out into the hallway, then closed the door. "That was why I climbed the damn tree. You weren't coming up after me."

They started down the old metal stairs. Jon snorted, turned around and went down backwards to look up at his brother. "Why would I when all I had to do wait for you to come down?" He shook his head and turned around to see where he was going. "Not precisely in that manner, though."

Joe shrugged as they reached the ground floor. "I paid for that prank big time."

Jon opened the outside door and held it while Joe went on through. "You didn't learn your lesson, though. Even with your leg in a thigh-high cast, you were pulling pranks."

"Because Mom wouldn't let you retaliate."

"Not against you at that moment in time." Jon started walking down the sidewalk, toward the spot he'd parked the car.

"You know, that cast itched like crazy," said Joe, after making sure the door was shut and locked since his brother hadn't when he pulled it closed. "And hot that summer, man. I never wanted to go through that again."

"At least baseball season was over."

"Not the tournament. Man, Coach Danson, I recall, was pissed."

"Only because you had a serious problem with friendly competition. You just had to outdo me on homeruns, not to mention out-pitch me."

"Problem? What problem? My arm was better than yours. From climbing all those trees."

"Oh, so that's it. So, you should be thanking me." Jon stopped at the car, a wide grin on his face.

Joe went around to the passenger side and reached for the door. "For what?"

Jon shook his head. "That's what's so charming about you. Such effusive gratitude."

Joe frowned, ready to reply when he saw it sitting in his seat. It was a box about twelve inches long, eight inches wide and four inches deep wrapped in brown paper. Joe looked around, to see if anyone seemed to be watching the car. Jon bent down to look inside. "What the hell is that?"

Joe noticed that there was a name scrawled on top. Trevor Macklin. "Apparently, it's for me." He reached inside the open window and picked up the box, surprised at how light it was, almost as if it were empty. Joe put the box to his ear but didn't hear anything ominous, shook it but nothing rattled.

Jon cleared his throat and got into the car. "Get in. Then we'll see what it is."

Joe nodded and got into the car. Curious but uneasy, he unwrapped the box and opened it. Nestled on tissue paper was something in a pale pink and white gingham. His heart squeezed painfully as he lifted the fabric out of the box. It was a long vest, now crumpled and soiled. It was scented with the soft smell of apples. Joe found the hands holding the vest were shaking and his chest was hurting. He realized vaguely that he needed to start breathing again. Oh God...no.

Jon saw the shocked look on his brother's face. "Hey....Mack...you look like you've seen a ghost."

"She's here."

"Who? Raven?"

"No. Casi."

"Casi? As in Casi MacFairlaigne?" Jon frowned, clearly mystified. "What would she be doing here?"

"She followed me."

Jon studied his brother for a moment. "How do you know?"

"She was wearing this the last time I saw her, at the reception."

Jon shook his head, puzzled. "Wait a minute, I thought this was your partner's wedding."

Joe still stared at the vest and just nodded. Jon's frown deepened. "If it was Ethan's wedding, why would Casi be at his reception?"

Joe blinked and looked over at his brother. "Because Ethan married her sister."

Jon looked at Joe for a long moment, then at the vest. "But why would Casi follow you here? How on earth would she even know where you were going?"

Joe took a deep breath. "I may have let it slip out."

"Damn it, Mack..." began Jon, then realized he was in no position to lecture right now. He jabbed the key into the ignition and started the car, then pulled out of his parking spot. "So why on earth would Casi send you that? Is it hers?"

Joe gave a jerky nod. "She was wearing it yesterday....when I said goodbye." He took another deep breath. "And Casi didn't send me this."

"Then who?"

"Raven. She has Casi."

"Now wait a damn minute. Where'd that leap in logic come from?" he asked, veering into the nearest parking lot. He screeched to a halt in an empty spot, then looked at his brother. "Tell me."

Joe looked like he would have rather punched him but finally sighed. "Last year....Casi took me in. After Bryce....after Gail had had enough of me."

Jon frowned, not quite expecting that beginning. "I know you kind of zoned out for awhile and stayed at Jody's. Then you went to Casi's in Boston?"

"No. She lives in Provincetown now."

Jon stared at him. "No way. That is too weird."

Lost in memories, Joe barely heard him. "Ethan showed up, apparently on assignment, an assignment that was connected to a local robbery which Casi was already halfway involved in..." Joe forced himself to tell the rest of the story, how Lilith had gotten hold of Casi, the rigged shotgun....He shuddered. "That's why I know Raven has her now."

"Joe---"

"Shut up, big brother. And stay out of this."

"So I'm supposed to stand by and let yourself get killed? Hell, no."

Joe glared at him, then put the vest back in the box and tossed the box into the back seat. "You're volunteering?"

"Why not? What else is there to do? Besides tracking down Shakira and stopping the Hadads, I can't think of a single thing."

Joe let out an explosive sigh. "Damn it, I'm not an idiot. I know that it would risk everything to..."

Jon cleared his throat rather loudly, interrupting him. "Did you ever wonder why the hell I was so pissed when Wilder said Sydnei would be working with me?"

Joe found it hard to concentrate on his brother's words. "You didn't want a woman partner?"

"Which would make me a sexist pig." Jon shook his head, turning serious. "I didn't want to work with her because I knew I'd fall for the first second I let my guard down, I'd be in over my head. My God..." He cleared his throat. "Black hair, green eyes...she was beautiful and tough."

Joe looked over at his brother, remembering the tragedy, his brother's pain. "I'm sorry."

Jon shrugged. "Our time was cut short. But, God, the time we had."

"So you don't regret it?"

"Regret it? I have tons of regrets..." Jone glared out the windshield. "Someone once said it's better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all."

"I think that was Poison."

Jon started up the car again and backed out, heading for his hotel. "Yeah, despite the glam stuff, they were pretty good."

"That was only in the eighties. They were one of the all time best bands. Aside from Sorcerer, that is."

Jon seemed to snap out of the funk he was in. "Hell no. Rolling Stones."

"They are so ancient."

"They can still rock."

Joe looked disgusted. "They're as old as Dad."

"So? Some things get better with age. A fine wine---"

"Don't you dare compare a fine wine to those old geezers." Joe shook his head. "Anyway, Black Sabbath rules."

"And how old are they?"

"Younger than Jagger."

"Yeah, right."

***

"Please adjust your seats to the upright position."

Casi's eyes flew open and she winced at the sudden glare of lights. She didn't remember falling asleep but she remembered the disjointed dream. She glanced down and saw her hand was still holding the pearl. Uncurling one finger at a time, she slowly let the pendant drop against her skin. It wasn't a dream, she realized with a faint shudder. It had felt like memories, some not her own. That had never happened before, she thought as the plane began to descend. The last time she had passed out, completely. Donovan had even said it was like a trance or something. So why this time, was it different?

It troubled her and kept her distracted the entire time she was disembarking, claiming her luggage and searching for a taxi. She was still distracted, after leaving the airport. It had been the taxi driver who'd suggested the hotel she was at now. It seemed comfortable and inexpensive. The staff was attentive and the room she got was clean and pleasant.

With a sigh, Cais leaned forward to look out the second-story window. The Hotel Imperial Borj faced the medina--or square--only a short block away. She watched an old sedan, rust spots on trunk and hood, rips and slashes in the vinyl roof, pull up in front. From the angle she had, she saw the driver's head and shoulders but not his face. The light brown hair was in a buzz cut and for a second Casi thought it was him. Had he followed her?

If it was him, he didn't have his gun. Today he wore faded jeans, white and threadbare at the seams and a glaring orange T-shirt that actually hurt her eyes. And today, instead of boots, he wore beach sandals. Something in the way he walked, told her it wasn't the same guy. He bent down to look in the car, resting one hand on the roof, the other on the frame of the door. Glinting in the sunlight was a chrome and leather watch on his right wrist.

Casi frowned. The guy in Rabat had worn his watch on his left wrist, she'd seen the buckle when he'd reached around to touch the pearl. But his gun had been holsterd on his right side, meaning he was probably left-handed. She leaned forward until her forehead touched the window pane to get a better look. The orange T-shirt hung loose to his hips but she could see a bulk at his waist in the back. It was no stretch of the imagination to see the outline of a pistol grip.

She sighed. Did he wear the shoulder holster only when he wore jackets and blazers? Well, it made sense, she thought, can't dress the same way all the time. But the blazer and jeans, even the T-shirt had looked brand-new but this guy was wearing very lived-in clothes. Somehow, to Casi, the images or impressions just didn't mesh.

He straightened up and disappeared into the hotel before she could get a glimpse of his face. Casi stayed where she was, listening for the sound of footsteps outside her door. But a few minutes later, the man came back out, a yellow legal-size envelope in one hand. He handed the large envelope to whomever was in the car but didn't get in. With his left hand, he gestured to the hotel and the sun flashed on a faceted yellow stone in a silver band on his left hand. It wasn't a wedding ring, she noted, it looked like a class ring.

She watched him shake his head emphatically and gesture to the hotel again. Then he nodded and made a come-on gesture. Casi watched his shoulders tense up and she realized he was arguing with the person in the car. He flung his left hand out toward the hotel a third time, then slammed the driver's side door so hard the car actually rocked on its springs. He walked around the trunk to the passenger side and yanked open that door.

He leaned down, said something, then shook his head and thumped the roof of the car with his fist. Then slowly, he raised his head and looked directly at her. Casi stared. Despite the mirrored aviator sunglasses, he looked very familiar. His jaw was clean-shaven and squared. She knew him but the hair and the sunglasses threw her off. Who was he?

She pressed her forehead to the window again to get a better look and he grinned up at her. He said something to the person in the car and laughed. Then he waved to her like an old friend and pushed the sunglasses up on his head. Casi sucked in a hard, stunned breath. Then she scrambled to her feet and bolted out of the room.

***

Jonathon nudged his sunglasses back into positon. "Why would I lie?"

"Because it's too good to be true. And we both know things that seem to be too good to be true usually are." Joe heard his brother heave a sigh and steeled himself for another argument. But a slim figure in a long skirt and sweater distracted him. She was hurrying down the steps toward the car in a familiar way that made him go weak with worry. Then she spoke and he thought he was hearing things.

"Hey."

"Hey, yourself," said his brother. "Long time no see."

"Yeah. What's it been, two years?"

"Three. Jody got married in '93."

Joe heard Jon thump the roof again but didn't move. Please, God, don't let this be a dream.

"Speaking of weddings....how'd your sister's go?"

"Great. They went to Acapulco."

It registered somewhere in his befuddled brain that Ethan hadn't said where they were going."

"Nice place."

"Yeah."

In the conversational lull, Jon thumped the roof again. Joe gave a start and got out of the car. If this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up. He straightened up and saw her looking fresh and safe and once again his brain jumped in before his heart. "What are you doing here?" slipped out before what he'd wanted to say.

Casi glared at him. "Hello to you too."

"No squabbling in public, kids," lectured Jonathon, grinning like he was really enjoying this.

"Shut up," said Casi and Joe at the same time.

Jon chuckled. "It would be better to do this in private. Less people watching."

Casi and Joe both looked at him, startled, then Joe nodded. Jon winked at Casi. "He's a little cranky. Jet lag, probably. He beat me up last night."

"I did not."

"What do you call shoving a cooler in my stomach....a sign of affection?"

"Shut up."

"You hit him with a cooler?"

"He was thirty minutes late."

"Remind me to be punctual."

"I wouldn't worry. It's probably only if you're half an hour late it's the cooler. Now fifteen minutes, it's just a lunch box. Ten minutes---"

"Shut up, big brother."

Casi grinned. "Okay, privacy you want, privacy you got. I'm in Room 2114."

Jon looked up at the hotel, then looked around. "All of us trooping up there is bound to catch someone's eye. Cafe' Argana."

Joe groaned. "Not again."

"But you said privacy. Wouldn't that be too public." Casi decided to wait until later to ask Joe why not again.

Jon nodded. "The car. We'll drive around."

Casi climbed in the back, brushing off the faded and cracked vinyl seat before she sat down. "I take it upscale's not your image?"

Jon just grinned as he got behind the wheel. Joe got in the passenger seat and closed the door. "I told you not to follow me here."

"I didn't promise anything."

Joe glared at her. "Donovan---"

"Donovan, hell. I don't appreciate that little tactic, either."

Jon glanced at her in the crooked rearview mirror. "By the way, the name's Jonah Kensington and this here's Trevor Macklin. Most folks just call him Mack."

"No Starsky and Hutch? Or Scott and Robinson?"

Joe blinked. "Who the hell are Scott and Robinson?"

Casi snorted. "Only the best tennis player ever and his dynamic and witty trainer."

Jon laughed. "Aka "I Spy"." He shook his head. "Used to think it would really be like that."

"Unfortunately, it's more like "Mission Impossible". I never cared for either."

Casi slapped his shoulder. "Shame on you. You missed all those exotic locales--they must've spent a whole season in Japan--and the adventures..."

Joe shifted in his seat and glared at her. "Got a package today." He pointed to the box on the back seat. "You might want it back."

"I didn't---" Realization hit her like a tidal wave. "Oh shit. She sent it to you? Damn, she didn't waste a second. One of these days I swear I'll kill her."

"You knew?"

"I was at the souk in Rabat very early this morning when I felt someone watching me. When I got back to my hotel room around eight, I found the room ransacked."

"And yet you still come here?" Joe's jaw was clenched and a vein throbbed in his temple.

"What? I was supposed to stay in Rabat?"

"Shit!" Joe exclaimed, slamming a hand against the dashboard. "When I told you not to follow me, it also meant that Morocco was off-limits to you."

"Morocco is not off-limits to me. I can go anywhere I want."

"Then go elsewhere."

"No."

"Casi--"

"Ah-ah-ah. You mean Mickie Donovan."

Jon chuckled but Joe saw no humor in it. "Excuse me?"

"You changed your name, I change mine."

Joe frowned. "This isn't a lark."

"I damn well know that. This isn't some Bond movie either. At least now you know the truth."

Jon glanced at his brother. "You never told me she was psychic."

"Shut up while you still can," warned Joe.

Casi grinned. "Brotherly love. I see such fine examples every where I go."

"Don't you start. Life's hard enough."

Jon grinned. "Go figure."

Casi leaned forward. "So what now?"

"Now you go home," retorted Joe, automatically.

"I just got here."

Joe glared at her. "Go home. It's not safe here."

"You're not my keeper. I can go anywhere I want."

Jon glanced from Joe to Casi via the rearview mirror. "I think this is a losing battle here. Of course, that's just my opinion. And it's not like I know everything. Of course---"

"Shut up," ordered Joe. "You're not helping."

"Since when did you ever want my help?"

"He's right. What are you going to do? Pack my clothes and tie me to a seat in the plane? That's about what you'd have to do, you know." Casi sat back and folded her arms across her chest belligerently. She gave a sharp nod. "Yep. That's what you'd have to do."

"Don't push me."

"Don't even think it, macho man. You even try that stunt and I'll have you arrested again."

Jon looked at Joe in mock horror. "Arrested? Again? Nooo."

"I don't know who to throttle first. You--or her."

Casi shook her head. "Oh no you don't. So how did it turn out in Cairo? Did the sky fall? Did the pyramids crumble? As I recall, I didn't go home then."

Joe sighed. "I don't want you hurt."

"Fine. I don't want you hurt." She looked at Jon. "When he got that package, he went ballistic, didn't he."

"To put it mildly," answered Jon, a grin in his tone of voice.

"That's not true--"

"He was ready to ditch the assignment and go after Raven, wasn't he," said Casi to Jon, ignoring Joe.

"--entirely," said Joe.

Jon smirked. "To put it mildly."

"Shut up, big brother."

Casi nodded. "I rest my case."

Joe mumbled something under his breath. Casi frowned and leaned forward. "What was that?"

"Never mind."

Casi sighed. "So....Jonah, does he pout often?"

"Only when he doesn't get his way."

Joe closed his eyes and shook his head. Casi grinned and winked at Jon. "And how old is he?"

"In people years or dog years?"

Joe groaned. "Shit. I know when I'm being railroaded." He turned around in his seat, his blue eyes hard as he pointed at Casi. "First sign of danger and you'll be on a plane so fast your head will spin."

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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.