"Can you park it in the garage while I get us checked in?" Fenton asked turning to hand Frank the keys as he motioned to the entrance of the underground parking garage.

"Sure, Dad." Frank replied, climbing into the drivers seat. Watching in the rearview mirror, he waited until the bags were unloaded and the trunk was closed and then pulled away.

As the group entered the hotel lobby, Callie, Vanessa and Joe couldn’t help but look around and be impressed by the plush surroundings of the five-star hotel. Pointing to an area off the main lobby, Fenton suggested they wait for him there while he checked in and retrieved their room keys. Taking a seat on one of the overstuffed couches, Joe alternated between watching Callie, Vanessa and his mother wander around "oohing" and "ahhing", and wondering why his father had been escorted into the manager’s office simply to check in.

Fenton Hardy followed Pierre Tableau, the hotel’s general manager into his office and took a seat as the man shut the door behind them. Tableau, a man in his fifties, with elegant gray hair and striking blue eyes, was dressed in an obviously expensive, impeccably tailored suit with silk tie and matching handkerchief in the breast pocket. Taking a seat behind his desk, he typed on the keyboard as he spoke to Fenton, pulling up the Hardy’s reservation.

"I understand your stay in Chicago will be trying, Mr. Hardy, and we will do everything possible to help alleviate the strain your family will be under." The man said tactfully.

"Thank you, Mr. Tableau. I appreciate that." Fenton replied.

The trial of Keith Rashman had gotten extensive press coverage, becoming the hottest topic in Chicago and was expected to garner unprecedented media interest. In the hopes of providing privacy and some kind of sanctuary for his family, particularly Joe, after the trial each day, Fenton had rented the Penthouse suite in what was considered the best hotel in Chicago. Once they returned to the hotel at night, the Hardy’s need not leave the suite at all unless they chose to. Everything would be provided for them, including a small private gym for use only by guests of the Penthouse suite. With the suite taking up the entire top floor of the hotel, Fenton hoped the isolation from the public and breathtaking views of the city would serve as a tranquil haven where they could all take refuge.

"I’ve made all the arrangements you requested when we last spoke. Your family will have the Penthouse Suite and will be isolated on the top floor of the hotel. Only my most experienced and trusted staff will be attending to your needs. My assistant, Gregory Koppenhaver, or myself will be available to you at all times. Please don’t hesitate to call on one of us if there is a problem or anything that doesn’t meet your expectations.

"Since you expect any calls from family or friends to be coming through on your private cell phones, all calls coming in for you through the hotel’s switchboard will be routed to my private line. Messages will be taken and delivered to you daily. No calls coming through our switchboard will be put through to your suite." Opening a drawer, Tableau pulled out an envelope and handed it to Fenton.

"There are six keycards in here. The Penthouse suite can only be accessed by private elevator. That elevator can only be activated with one of these keycards, which limits access to that floor to the guests and select staff. Only your family, Mr. Koppenhaver and myself have these cards. The staff that will be looking after you will come to Mr. Koppenhaver or myself for a keycard whenever they need access to the suite to clean or respond to your needs. It is impossible for anyone to gain access to that floor without one of these cards. Is there anything else you need at this time?"

"No thank you. It sounds as if you’ve covered everything. If you don’t mind, I would like you or your assistant to give my older son and I a tour of parking garage a little later on. We’d like to have an alternate exit or two we can use should it become unwise to use the main entrance. I’m sure once the trial starts the media will be ruthless and I know there is only so much you can do to keep them at bay if they are on public property."

"Of course. Just let me know when you and your son are ready and I will personally escort you through the garage and any other areas of the hotel that you would like to see."

"Thank you," Fenton said, as he stood up.

"I’m happy to do anything to make your family’s stay in Chicago a little easier. If you’re ready, I’ll escort you up to the suite," Tableau offered motioning towards the door.

Returning to the lobby, Fenton saw Frank had rejoined the group as he and Tableau approached them. Simply telling them that their rooms were ready, he indicated they should follow Pierre Tableau as he took up the rear.

"Dad’s got something up his sleeve," Joe whispered to his older brother as they walked across the ornately decorated lobby towards the elevators. "Since when do you need to meet the with manager to check in."

"I think you’re right, but whatever it is, he’s kept it to himself." Frank replied, growing more curious as they passed the main elevators and continued on to a separate elevator in a small alcove a little further away.

Looking up at the monitor above the doors, he noticed this one bypassed all the other floors, having only the letters ‘L’ and ‘P’ on the display. He noted there was no button to call the elevator and watched as Tableau inserted a keycard into a slot by the door. Immediately the doors opened revealing an interior that was just as classy and ornate as the lobby had been.

Standing aside, Frank waited until Laura, Callie, Vanessa and Joe had gotten on and then followed them. He caught his father’s eye once and raised his eyebrows in a silent question, but Fenton only responded with a Cheshire cat smile.

Once inside, Tableau inserted the keycard into another slot marked with a ‘P’. The doors closed and the elevator rose smoothly and quickly, making no stops until it had reached its destination. With a soft ding, the doors opened and everyone stepped off into a thickly carpeted hallway decorated with antique paintings, tables and chairs. Glancing at his mother, Frank decided she had been in on whatever his father had planned. While he, Callie, Joe and Vanessa took in everything with stunned surprise, Laura simply smiled and slid her hand into her husband’s grasp.

They followed the manager halfway down the hall where he came to a stop at a set of heavy, dark oak double doors. Once again using the keycard, he unlocked the doors and swung them open with a flourish. What followed was a guided tour of the luxurious and elegant suite. Its floor to ceiling windows in virtually every room boasted a stunning view of downtown Chicago on one side and the breathtaking sight of Lake Michigan on the other.

The main living room had a large entertainment center, with wide screen TV, and the most up to date video game console. A large selection of DVD’s, game cartridges and CD’s were available for use. Each of the four bedrooms had it’s own private balcony, large private bath with Jacuzzi and dressing area, a king size bed and sitting area complete with a desk and computer.

The large dining room contained a table that could comfortably seat ten that looked out over the city. The fully equipped kitchen gave guests the option of preparing their own meals should they not want to leave the suite or be bothered by room service. At the other end of the suite stood the library and sunroom. A small, fully equipped private gym was just down the hall from the suite.

Once the tour was concluded and Pierre Tableau had bid the family goodbye, everyone scattered to more thoroughly check out all the amenities. As Joe began to follow Vanessa, Fenton called him back. Sitting on the couch next to his father, Joe became a little overwhelmed, knowing full well why his father went to the enormous expense of procuring this private suite.

"Joe, I know this trial is going to be difficult for you at best. I wanted to make sure you had somewhere to come back to that would hopefully offer you a little peace of mind. We’ve got everything we need right here so if you never want to leave this suite except to attend the trial, you don’t have to." Fenton explained.

Joe stared at his father, a little lost for words. "I don’t know what to say, Dad. Thank you doesn’t really seem like enough."

"You don’t need to thank me. I honestly can’t imagine how hard it’s going to be for you and anything I can do to make it a little easier, well, I’m more than happy to do."

Joe smiled and nodded at his father, unable to speak over the lump in his throat.

"And you know if you need to talk…about anything…I’m here. So is Frank. Please don’t try and keep everything inside. It’s okay to be nervous. And scared. Just remember you’re not alone. Okay?" Fenton reached out and squeezed Joe’s shoulder.

"I’ll remember," Joe promised.

"Good. Let’s go join the others and see just what kind of goodies this place really has," Fenton smiled. As Joe smiled back at him, Fenton hoped it wouldn’t be the last one he would see for the foreseeable future.

*****

An hour later, Frank, Joe and Fenton were seated in the office of District Attorney Peter Handling, a man in his early fifties with salt and pepper hair and intense blue-gray eyes. Although several Federal Prosecutors were assisting him, Handling would be the lead attorney on the case. With the opportunity to make a large dent in the most violent and notorious organized crime family in Chicago, the Federal and state agencies quickly agreed to work together in the hopes it would increase the odds of getting a guilty verdict. Keith Rashman was the main reason no one ever challenged the authority of this syndicate, who ruled Chicago’s underworld without question. If they could get him behind bars permanently, it would be a giant first step in bringing down the entire organization.

Sitting around the large conference table, Frank stayed close to his younger brother keeping a close eye on him. As Handling reviewed the details of the trial, the witnesses that would be called and the questions they would be asked, Frank could see Joe retreating further and further into himself. It was common knowledge that defense attorney Matthew Barning intended to try and prove Rashman was temporarily insane at the time he abducted Joe however the details as to how he would accomplish that had been heavily guarded.

"I have no idea what specific tactics he’s going to use." Handling explained, as he turned to look directly at Joe. "My guess is rather than trying to attack you or your testimony, he’ll try just the opposite. He’ll probably come across as very sympathetic and concerned for you. He won’t want the jury to see him or Rashman as ‘the bad guy’. No matter what he says or does, Joe, try and remain neutral at all times. If you get angry with him that could push the jury towards him out of sympathy. If you show any indication that you even remotely accept whatever concern he shows for you, the jury may think that you believe him so it would be okay for them to believe him."

Joe nodded his understanding hoping he could do what the DA was asking of him. At that very moment, his heart was pounding in his chest and his stomach was tied up in knots at the thought of coming face to face with Keith Rashman again. Yet he appeared outwardly calm and in complete control, at least to Handling.

"I’m going to ask you to describe every single thing Rashman did to you in graphic detail in order to get the jury’s sympathy and keep it. The judge is allowing all of the photographs Rashman took to be entered into evidence and I’m going to ask you to walk the jury through all of them. I’ll be honest with you, Joe. It’s going to be hell for you." Handling said, watching Joe’s reactions carefully.

"I’m ready." Joe said simply, his voice neutral.

Exchanging a glance with his father, Frank could see Fenton was just as worried as he was. Joe was an expert at hiding his feelings from strangers, but he had never been able to fool his family. And at that moment, they knew Joe was walking a tightrope and trying desperately not to fall off. Joe was worried about the effect his testimony would have on Laura and Vanessa, his own reaction to having to face Keith Rashman again and the uncertainty of whether he really could get through a graphic accounting of every detail of the torture and abuse he’d spent the last six months trying to forget without losing his sanity. Should any one of those things be knocked out of its delicate balance, it could easily push Joe off that tightrope and into a world of fear and depression he might not be able to escape from.