3 HARDYS & A PRINCESS

by

PiperMerlyn

Chapter 9

The Chapters

INTRO

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

EPILOGUE

After saying good-bye to Rachel, Rick and Jordan and promising to visit sometime soon, Joe, Frank and Rory got into the brothers' van, Joe behind the wheel. Frank looked in the back seat at Rory. "It'll be okay."

Joe snapped his fingers. "We should call Dad, let him know how things went down."

Frank nodded and pulled out his cell phone but someone tapping on his window made him jump and he nearly dropped the phone. He rolled down the window to see Sloane smiling politely. "I shall follow you, all right?"

"Sure."

"I have a map. If we get separated along the way, I'm sure I'll find my way. See you later." She sketched a wave and walked away.

Frank rolled his window and glanced at Joe. "I know what you're thinking."

Joe grunted. "Only I'm allowed to do that." He started the van. "What am I thinking?"

"That you'll conveniently lose her on the expressway."

"Frank, I am shocked you would think I would think that." Joe grinned and backed out of his parking space. "Since when did you learn to read minds?"

Frank grinned. "Maybe I've been taking lessons from Leigh."

Joe rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. I thought Lynn said it was something you can't learn." He gave Frank a pointed look. "Hmm?"

"Just keep your eyes on the road, bro." Frank glanced back at Rory. "He's such a kidder."

Rory managed a faint smile and wrapped her arms around her backpack. "I hope Ella behaved herself. She can be a holy terror sometimes."

"I wouldn't say a holy terror, maybe just a terror." Joe glanced at Rory via the rearview mirror. "She only asked a million and one questions."

Rory seemed to relax into her seat. "Just a million and one? She's lagging behind then."

Frank settled deeper into her seat. "Rory, are you okay?"

Rory's faint smile faded away. "Oh God, it was so horrible. I--" She shuddered and gripped the backpack even tighter. "He was wearing a helmet and mask, one of those dirtbike racing helmets."

Joe and Frank shared a look. "Darth Vader," muttered Joe.

Rory frowned. "I can see Ella seeing it that way. She's a big Star Wars fan."

Frank shifted in his seat. "You said  him, you're sure it was a man?"

Rory gave him an odd look as if his question didn't make sense. "Of course I'm sure." She took a deep breath. "He was wearing all black leather, skin tight, yeah."

Frank glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the warehouse and then slid a glance at Joe. "How  tall was the shooter? As tall as your uncle, your mom, you?"

She gave him another puzzled look and frowned. "I...was in the stairwell, looking down....I think he was as tall as Uncle Larry." She swallowed hard. "Uncle Larry was around five foot eleven if I'm not mistaken."

Frank frowned and dialed a number on his cell phone. "Dad....It's good, Dad, she's with us and there's an Interpol agent on our tail...Dad, we have a little more info. The guy was wearing black leather and a racing helmet, not a mask like Darth Vader. He may have been on a motorcycle rather than driving a car.....We will....Um, I will. Okay, Dad, bye."

"What?" asked Joe as he steered onto the expressway.

"Um, Dad seems to think Agent Willoughby's a guy."

Joe let out a hoot of laughter. "Oh boy, will he be surprised." He looked over at Frank. "Why is it, you didn't warn him?"

Frank shrugged. "Well, I really didn't think of it until he hung up."

Joe nodded. "Right. Hmm, wonder how that tea party went? Wonder what he's doing right now?"

                                                          ***

"That was beginner's luck," said Ella, archly, tossing her ponytail back over her shoulder.

Fenton Hardy arched an eyebrow at her. "I beg to differ. I've won six races now."

Ella grunted and stuck her nose up in the air. "Only because I let you."

"You did not. We both went into the ice water on the second  set."

Suddenly, Ella giggled. "You looked funny as an ice cube."

Fenton grinned at her and wondered what his sons would think if they could see him now, sitting on the floor in his sock feet playing Mario Kart. "So did you."

"But you looked funnier. Why'd you pick him to play?"

"Isn't the name called Mario Kart? Shouldn't I be Mario?"

Ella thought about it for a moment. "Hmm, but wouldn't that mean I like Peaches because I like peaches? I don't like peaches."

It took Fenton a few seconds to follow her logic and he shook his head. "You like Peaches because she's the only girl and a princess to boot."

"She's not wearing boots."

Fenton didn't quite sigh and then he saw her expression. He laughed. "Ella!"

She giggled again. "I got you, didn't I, Mr. Hardy."

"Yeah, you did." He shifted on the floor and stretched out his legs, wincing as both knees popped rather loudly.

Ella's hazel eyes went wide. "What was that?"

"I'm older than I look," said Fenton, throwing  a wink at her.

Her eyes went wide and she stared at him. "You are?"

There was a moment of dead silence and then Fenton cleared his throat. "Well, are we racing or are we racing?"

"That's the same thing," said Ella, giving him an arch look. "And I'm going to beat you this time."

Fenton grunted. "Yeah, right. I'm on a winning streak."

"Beginner's luck, that's all it is." Ella crouched down as they started the first race of the third set. The game had four sets of races, four races to a set, each race track unique in some way--either it was a normal racetrack with obstacles or it was a race on a beach or ice or now, on a dirt  track that seemed to twist in on itself and make you dizzy.

Fenton watched her for a moment, flashing back to how Joe had crouched down like he was actually racing. A part of him ached that he'd missed some of those moments in the past, of watching his sons be boys and just play because he was so busy working.

"Mr. Hardy, turn around!"

Fenton focused on the game and saw he'd hit the wall, spun around and was now heading in the wrong direction. A strange little creature was holding a neon sign flashing 'You're going the wrong way' while waving a flag. "Oh, silly me, must have dozed off."

Ella blinked. "Wow, you must be old if you need to take naps during the day. Granddaddy does that a lot."

Fenton didn't quite groan. "So how old is your grandfather?"

"He's ancient. He's got really thin white hair that sticks up in all sorts of ways and he smells like, um, what's that stuff called? It stinks."

Fenton had no idea what she was talking about but took a stab in the dark. "Ben-Gay?"

Ella nodded. "Yeah." She wrinkled up her pert little nose. "Ugh."

"Where is he?"

"He lives in Florida with Granny. We go once a year and see them and go to Disney World."

Fenton kept his eyes on the game. "Do you enjoy visiting them?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her nod, her own eyes glued to the TV screen. "Yeah. Granny always sneaks me dessert even when Mom---" Her voice trailed off and her kart veered into a dirt wall, bounced off and sat there, it's wheels spinning. "I miss her," she said, her voice sounding shaky.

Fenton paused the game and looked at her. "Ella.."

She launched herself at him, burying her head into his chest. "I miss her," she mumbled, sobbing.

Fenton wrapped his arms around her and felt her small body shake with her sobs. He held her close as she cried and rested a cheek on her hair. Poor little thing, he thought, as he sat there. How horrible a sight to live with, seeing your mother shot down.

Finally after a long time, she sat back and looked up at him, her face wet with tears. "I thought I was all out." She sniffed. "I got your shirt wet again."

"It'll dry," said Fenton, smoothing loose strands of hair from her face. "Don't worry about it."

"I k-keep crying on you and--and J-Joe...you w-won't want me to come back."

"Oh, Ella, you're welcome to come anytime. You still need to meet my sister, remember?"

She managed a small grin. "Yeah." She glanced over at the TV. "Can we turn the game off? I'm tired of  it."

"Of course." Fenton reached over and switched off the Playstation. "How about a snack?"

Ella grinned. "Sounds good. What is it?"

"I don't know yet. Why don't we go raid the kitchen?"

Her grin widened. "But it's your kitchen, Mr. Hardy."

"I know, that makes it even more fun to raid." He nudged her and she stood up and then graciously tried to help him to his feet.  He didn't quite sigh as she hindered more than helped. He finally made it to his feet and reached out a hand to her. "Come on. I think I know where my wife stashes her chocolate," he added with a wink.

"Ooh, I love chocolate."

Fenton smiled down at her. "Me too." He led the way into the kitchen and proceeded to look through the cabinets when an odd noise made him stop. He looked around toward the front of the house and then at the back door--both were locked, he had made certain only a few hours ago.

Ella inched closer to him. "What was that?"

Fenton frowned, thinking of the gun he kept in the house, stored in a gun safe in his study. He glanced at the cabinet he'd been looking through and saw there was a space down under the last shelf. "Get in."

Ella shivered. "I  c-can't. No, please, no."

Suddenly, Fenton remembered she'd hid in the coat closet when her mother and uncle were shot. He crouched down in front of her. "I need you to do this for me, Ella. I need you to stay hidden."

She stared at the small space and swallowed hard, her hazel eyes huge in her small tear-streaked face. "B-but what if I hear gunshots?"

Fenton took a deep breath. "It'll be okay, Ella. Please."

She shuddered and crawled in past the small basket full of light bulbs and twist-ties for garbage bags. It was cramped in the cabinet and she had to scrunch up to fit. She angled her head to look up at Fenton and he wanted to yank her out of there and just comfort her at the tears filling her eyes. "It'll be okay," he whispered, pushing the door almost closed.

He walked to the hallway and strained to listen for anything but he heard nothing. He took a step back and grabbed the phone, intending to dial 9-1-1 but when he put the receiver to his ear, he saw there was no dial tone.

Fenton cursed under his breath. His cell phone was upstairs and his gun was in his study. He thought about Ella's call to her friend.  Had her friend's phone been tapped? Had his? He narrowed his brown eyes and walked out into the hallway. He still didn't hear anything, no voices, no sounds. The house was unnaturally quiet.

He heard something shatter just then and went still, trying to locate the sound. His eyes widened as he realized it had come from Gertrude's room. He darted down the hallway in his sock feet and raced into the living room and into his study. As fast as he dared, he got the gun and loaded it, then looked out of the study. Gertrude's door was still closed, so he ran for the stairs.

He was halfway up when he heard the doorknob turn. Fenton dashed up the remaining steps and into his bedroom. He grabbed his cell phone and dialed the police department and then darted into the bathroom. "Ezra...Intruders, in the house. I think they came through Gertrude's side window...No sirens, Ezra." Fenton warned as he tried to listen for sounds of the intruders coming up the stairs. He'd already told Ezra the entire situation, so wasn't surprised when the police chief asked about Ella. "She's in the kitchen, in that cabinet by the refrigerator....I asked her to. It was hard for her, because she hid in the closet when her mother was killed....I don't know. We'll figure that out once she's safe....If it means keeping her alive, I'll do what I have to."

Fenton switched the phone off and put it in his pants' pocket. He wasn't about to let Ella get hurt.

Let the author know what you think of this story

Home   Library   Authors   Rogue's Gallery   Vehicles   Chums   Message Board  Rap Sheet  Links  Contact

Disclaimer