Joe followed Seth down the stairs into the basement of the building, to a door marked ‘Records.’ Seth opened the door and walked in, flipping the light switch just inside the door as he did so. Entering the large room, Joe saw filing cabinets lining three walls with row upon row of shelving taking up the center of the room. Each row of shelves contained cardboard boxes of evidence. On either side of the door was a large conference table.

“Have a seat,” Seth told him, pointing to one of the tables as he disappeared down a row of shelving. Less than a minute later, he returned, placing one of the large boxes on the table in front of Joe. “Why don’t you start looking through that and I’ll get the file.”

Seth disappeared once more, this time towards the back of the room. As Joe began pulling items out of the box and putting them on the table, he heard the sound of a file cabinet drawer being opened and then closed a few seconds later. Seth returned to the table, dropping into the chair next to Joe and opening the manila folder in his hands.

As Seth looked over the file, Joe neatly laid out the contents of the box: a baby blanket, a worn but unsoiled disposable diaper, a Onesie™, a pacifier and a tiny knit cap. Fingering the plastic bag holding the small yellow cap, Joe was suddenly overwhelmed with the thought that his son might have worn it. He marveled at how tiny it was, his eyes drifting back to the blanket and the little outfit – how anything could be that small!

Staring at the items, Joe’s thoughts wandered – what had the baby looked like when he was born? Did he have a head full of hair – brown like Jodi’s? Blond like Joe’s? Or that light sandy brown color, like Todd? Were his eyes a mirror image of Joe’s – vibrant, electric blue? Or the more pale, translucent blue of Jodi? Maybe they were more similar to Todd’s, whatever that color was. Joe had never gotten close enough to the other boy to notice.

“Joe?”

“Hm, what?!” Joe asked, startled out of his daze by Seth’s voice.

“You okay?” Seth asked, peering at him closely. “You were about a million miles away.”

“Sorry. Yeah, I’m fine,” Joe straightened up, putting the plastic bag back on the table. “I assume this is what the baby was wearing when he was turned over to Akins,” he said waving his hand over the items.

“Mm-hmm,” Seth agreed. He handed a piece of paper over to Joe, summarizing it as Joe began to look it over. “Renault’s statement. Says he and his wife were having breakfast and heard the sound of crying. He thought it was one of the feral cats that lives in the woods around there and went out to see if it was hurt. He followed the sound down the driveway and found the baby, wrapped in a blanket, near his truck. He took the baby into town, and turned it over to Akins.

“Not too much else here,” Seth frowned, looking over the few other papers in the folder. “Akins’ report. He searched the grounds, didn’t find much of anything.”

“He didn’t search the house? Didn’t bring Renault in for questioning?” Joe said angrily.

Seth looked over the report again. “If he did, he didn’t put it in the report. He may not have bothered if he believed Renault’s story.”

“Not very thorough,” Joe muttered, his expression dark.

“True, but not much we can do about that now,” Seth shrugged. He scanned the report, picking up where he’d left off. “Akins turned the baby over to Child Protective Services and started searching for the parents. Contacted the sheriffs in all the neighboring counties…” He looked at Joe and raised an eyebrow, a touch of sarcasm in his voice. “Obviously, he wasn’t able to find them. After the required waiting period, the baby was declared a ward of the state and put up for adoption.” His voice faded as he scrutinized another document.

“What is it?” Joe asked.

“Birth certificate.”

“May I?” Joe requested, holding out his hand, nodding his thanks when Seth handed it over.

Trying to keep his hands from shaking, Joe stared at it. Slowly his eyes traveled over the document to the bottom. Neatly typed in the space where the father’s name should be were two words that ripped at his heart. “Father Unknown”.

“This could be helpful,” Seth murmured, holding another piece of paper aloft. “Results of a DNA test.”

“Wha-what?” Joe stammered, his mouth suddenly dry.

“Akins would’ve ordered one immediately, just in case he did find the parents,” Seth continued, unaware Joe had suddenly become so unnerved.

‘A DNA test?’ Joe thought, feeling both relieved and terrified all at the same time. ‘I wouldn’t have to wait until we find him to know for sure…but I can’t just walk into a hospital or doctor’s office and ask them to do a DNA test on me!’ He glanced at Seth out of the corner of his eye. ‘And how would I explain to him my sudden need to get tested?’

“You know if we can get a DNA test on the mother, it’d be a whole lot easier to get those adoption records unsealed,” Seth proposed, excitement in his voice.

“What do you mean?” Joe asked.

Seth gave him a strange look before answering. “This wasn’t an open adoption. Those records are sealed. And they aren’t going to just open them up because six years later some woman comes forward claiming to be the kid’s mother on nothing more than hearsay.”

“Right, right. Of course,” Joe stammered. He did know, but he’d let his emotions get in the way and hadn’t thought that far ahead. “If only it were that easy, huh?” he tried to cover his error with a joke.

‘Come on, Hardy, get a grip!’ Joe chided himself, unprepared for the thoughts and emotions that had come over him upon seeing the clothes the baby had been wearing the day he’d been given away. Trying not to let the disappointment show on his face, he gestured toward the paper Seth was holding. “I can call the client tonight and have her go for testing as soon as possible.”

“That’ll be a big help. If we have proof she’s the mother, they’ll have no choice but to unseal the records. Still,” he frowned, “even if they can rush the test results it could take up to a week before we get them. Longer if they don’t think it’s an ‘emergency’.”

“But there are still some leads we can follow up on while we’re waiting,” Joe suggested, having no desire to sit around doing nothing for a week or more. “We know the baby was turned over to CPS, but where did he go from there? An adoption agency? A foster family? An orphanage? Maybe we can find out and go talk to the people involved. Lay some groundwork for when the test results do come in.”

“Good idea,” Seth nodded his approval. Glancing at his watch, he frowned. “Unfortunately it’s too late to do anything now. We’ll have to wait until tomorrow to get started.”

Joe glanced at a clock on the wall and sighed unhappily, agreeing with the sheriff. As they packed up the evidence and returned it, and the folder, to their proper places, Seth asked, “Got any plans for dinner?”

“None,” Joe replied.

“The local diner isn’t much to look at but the food is great,” Seth offered. “My treat.”

“Thanks,” Joe smiled. “I’d like that.”

The two men left the Records room, turning out the lights and locking the door behind them. As he climbed the stairs, Joe pushed down the confusing feelings seeing the tiny baby clothes had ignited, knowing he’d have to make a more concerted effort not to let his emotions cloud his judgment – and wondering if that were even possible.

*****

Vanessa walked into the apartment and closed the door behind her. Leaning against it, she gazed around the living room and sighed. She hated it when Joe was away. More often than not, he arrived home from work before she did and that fact only accentuated the sadness she was feeling now, standing alone in the apartment. God, how she missed him! Had he been home now instead of out looking for Jodi’s son - ‘Their son?’! Vanessa thought and shivered – she’d be wrapped up in his arms right now. The image of Joe laughing and smiling with a woman and a little boy she couldn’t quite make out flashed across Vanessa’s mind, obliterating the brief sensation she’d had of being in Joe’s warm embrace, and her eyes began to burn.

Pushing herself away from the door, Vanessa swiped at her eyes as she walked down the hall to the bedroom, recognizing that she was drained and exhausted. Dropping her things on the bed, she stared at the small bag from the local pharmacy that fell out of her purse. Early on in the day, she had resigned herself to spending the night completely and totally alone for the first time since…

Vanessa wrapped her arms around herself and shuddered, pushing the memories as far down as she could. As much as she didn’t want to be alone, she knew she couldn’t face anyone close to her and Joe and still be able to keep his secret. Normally she would stay with her mother, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to look Andrea in the eye without giving something away. She and Andrea had always been extremely close – the result of her being the only child of a single mother! Staying with her until Joe returned wasn’t an option.

Callie was usually her ‘back-up’ when her mother was away and Joe went out of town; but tonight Frank would be there, and facing him would be even harder than dealing with her mother. It would take him only minutes – if that long – to know she was hiding something; something that involved Joe. Staying with them was definitely out, as was staying with Laura and Fenton Hardy, which she had done on occasion. Having lived with three detectives for so long, Laura would catch on that something was bothering Vanessa but she’d never press the issue if Vanessa didn’t want to talk about it. But Vanessa was very close to Laura and considered her a second mother; the thought of accepting her unconditional love while keeping something so important from her…Vanessa just couldn’t do it. Aside from having to explain why she was staying with Joe’s parents instead of her own mother….

This left Vanessa back at square one – alone and staring at the bottle of over-the-counter sleeping pills she’d purchased on her lunch hour. She’d already felt memories of Chris Taylor trying to push their way to the surface, but she’d been able to use work to distract herself enough that they never quite made it to conscious thought. Lying in bed tonight, alone, with nothing to think about but Joe and the possibility that he was searching for the son he’d had with another woman would be more than enough stress to pave a smooth road for those memories to return in force.

Reluctantly, Vanessa had acknowledged she’d never sleep without some kind of help tonight. Turning her back on the small bottle of pills, Vanessa changed out of her work clothes. Taking advantage of the unseasonably warm spring weather, she pulled on a pair of shorts and started to rummage around for a shirt. She stopped suddenly and turned towards Joe’s dresser. Slowly crossing the room, she opened one of the drawers and reached in, pulling out one of Joe’s t-shirts. Lifting it to her face, she closed her eyes and inhaled. She smiled and savored the scent for a moment before pulling it over her head.

Feeling a little better, Vanessa started back towards the kitchen but halfway down the hall something stopped her. All afternoon, thoughts of Jodi Renault had been hovering in the back of her mind. Standing in the middle of the hall she wondered, who was this woman? And why did she seem to have some kind of power over Joe to get him to do what she wanted? Jodi had been able to talk him into keeping secret the fact that they might have a child together. It seemed to Vanessa that Joe had given in awfully quickly, to her plea to keep the boy a secret from almost everyone.

Vanessa had accepted Joe’s explanation as to why that morning, and hadn’t pressed the matter but that was only because she could see how much just thinking about that time in his life had shaken him up. He’d talked about Iola’s death, and what he felt was his part in it, in a way he never had before; and it worried her. If this woman had ever cared about him, and she must have, given what had happened between them, how could she ask him to isolate himself like this from the people he loved? The people whose love and support he needed right now. And what had motivated Joe to acquiesce so quickly?

‘Guilt,’ she thought with a frown. Joe had felt completely responsible for the night he and Jodi had been together, feeling as if he’d used her. Although from what Vanessa could tell, Jodi had been a more than willing partner, needing little if any prodding. But guilt was a powerful motivator, especially for Joe. ‘He could turn guilt into an art form’, Vanessa thought sardonically. No wonder Jodi seemed to have him jumping through hoops for her. ‘Jodi…’ Glancing to her right, Vanessa peered into the darkened bedroom she and Joe had converted into an office.

Even as she told herself this was a bad idea, Vanessa couldn’t stop, as if some outside force were pulling her through the doorway. Automatically reaching for the light switch, she flipped it on as she hurried towards her desk. Taking a seat she quickly connected to the Internet, pulling up the Google website. Her fingers hovered over the keys, shaking, for a moment as she tried to talk herself out of this. ‘Why are you doing this? You’ll just drive yourself crazy!’

Vanessa ignored the little voice urging her to stop and typed in two words:

Jodi Renault

Less than a minute later she was looking at the website of the company Jodi worked for in New York City. Scanning the information, Vanessa realized Jodi was already extremely successful in her career as an architect. With the same voice screaming at her to stop, Vanessa clicked on Jodi’s name. When her company bio popped up, complete with picture, Vanessa gasped.

‘My God, she’s gorgeous!’ Vanessa thought, heartsick. She stared at the photo taking in the thick, shining mane of dark brown hair that framed Jodi’s face perfectly and cascaded in waves over her shoulders. Mesmerizing translucent blue eyes stared back at Vanessa and even though Jodi was smiling in the photo, Vanessa could see a hint of pain and loss on her face. Hearing Joe’s voice in her head, telling her of the troubled and painful life Jodi had lived until she was able to break free as an adult, Vanessa hated the sudden emotion she was feeling - pity for this sad and beautiful woman.

Shaking herself back to reality, Vanessa clicked the mouse once and returned to the company’s main page. Almost without realizing it, she reached for the pad and paper on the desk, jotted down the phone number and address of the company, and then closed the window. Standing, she walked out to the kitchen and leaned against the counter knowing she should eat something but not feeling very hungry at the moment. Rubbing her eyes tiredly, Vanessa mentally reviewed what was in the refrigerator, taking note of whatever sounded even remotely appetizing. Deciding a bowl of cereal would do just fine, she started to get out a bowl when the sound of the buzzer announcing a visitor made her jump. She frowned even as she started towards the buzzer. Who would be visiting her now?

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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.