"Joe, you’re driving me crazy here."

Joe turned and looked at his brother blankly. "I haven’t said a word."

"Exactly! And it’s driving me crazy! Talk to me, Joe. What’s going on in that little mind of yours?" Frank cried out in exasperation. "I know you’re upset about Vanessa. You have every right to be. But this isn’t like you. This total silence. What’s going on? What are you thinking?"

Joe stared out the window for a moment at the passing scenery. "That’s just it. There’s so much going on I feel like I don’t know which way is up. How did those drugs get in my gym bag? How did those drugs get into ME? Was there someone else in the apartment with us last night? If so, how did he get in? And why? Did he stab Vanessa?" Joe’s voice grew soft. "Or did I?"

"You did NOT stab Vanessa." Frank said vehemently. "And we’re going to prove it."

"You mean you’re going to prove it." Joe corrected him. "I won’t be allowed anywhere near this case. Which means I get to sit around all day and wonder if Vanessa will live or die and if she does am I the one who killed her." He finished leaning his head back against the headrest and closing his eyes.

Frank felt the anger rising inside him at what Joe was going through and wished he knew who to direct it at. Unfortunately, Joe was right about being allowed to work on the case. And without work to distract him, Frank knew Joe would drive himself crazy worrying about Vanessa and pondering the endless scenario’s of exactly how she was attacked and what role he might have played in it.

‘There has to be some way to keep him involved…’ Frank thought, racking his brain, finally coming up with a temporary solution.

"You hungry?" Frank asked casually, glancing at the clock on the dashboard. It was almost dinnertime – very close to the time Joe had ordered pizza the previous evening.

"No." Joe replied, dejectedly. "Lost my appetite."

"Are you sure?" Frank pressed. "Sure you wouldn’t like to stop by Prito’s? Maybe pick up a pizza?" He asked glancing at his younger brother. ‘Come on, Joe, don’t make me have to spell it out for you.’

"Right." Joe snorted. "What if the guy who delivered the pizza is working tonight? Collig would haul me back in for witness tampering or something."

"I don’t know about that. I’m sure if the Chief didn’t want us talking to the guy, he wouldn’t be shy about calling and telling us. Besides, I’m kinda hungry. I could really go for a pepperoni pizza." Frank said casually. "And if the delivery guy is there, maybe I could strike up a conversation with him. Seeing as how you’ve suddenly taken a vow of silence…"

The light bulb finally clicked on and Joe turned to his brother excitedly. "Maybe he saw something! Saw someone coming or going or hanging around outside the building! Yes! Frank, you’re a genius!"

"So I’ve been told." Frank joked. "Let’s just hope he’s here." He finished, turning into the parking lot of Prito’s and pulling into an empty space.

They entered the restaurant, immediately coming to an abrupt halt. The lobby was quickly filling up with hungry patrons who were eager to dig into the best Italian food in Bayport. Looking around, Frank saw Tony Prito near the bar area talking to one of the servers in earnest. The olive skinned young man with dark brown hair and even darker eyes was a childhood friend, who never hesitated to jump in and help when Frank and Joe needed assistance.

"Two?" A bright voice asked Frank, although when he turned to look at the hostess, the young woman’s eyes were obviously glued to his brother.

"We’ll just sit in the bar, thanks." Frank smiled, taking Joe by the elbow and steering him towards a small table in the bar.

Glancing back over his shoulder, he saw the girl with brown hair and green eyes was still staring at Joe. ‘How does he do that?’ Frank shook his head chuckling to himself, becoming serious again when he saw that Joe hadn’t even noticed the girl’s attention – a sure sign his mind was occupied with more serious matters than flirting.

Noting that Tony had seen them come in, Frank leaned back in his chair and perused the menu, knowing Tony would come over as soon as he got a break. A few moments later, a young man appeared next to their table and took their order, attempting to make small talk with Joe, who was less than responsive.

"Sorry, Brad." Joe finally apologized, being acquainted with the young man from the frequent trips he and Vanessa made to Prito’s. "I’m a little out of it today."

"Yeah, I have days like that myself." Brad commiserated, as he left promising to return shortly with their drinks.

"I doubt that." Joe mumbled.

"Hey, guys!" Tony greeted them, pulling up a chair. "How’s Vanessa doing? And how are you holding up?" He asked, looking at Joe.

"I’m okay." Joe shrugged. "Wish I could say the same for Vanessa." He replied, gazing down at the table.

"Callie called all of us this morning and let us know what happened." Tony explained, referring to the Hardy’s tight-knit group of friends. "For what it’s worth, Joe, there’s no way you did it. No way." Tony said forcefully, shaking his head for emphasis.

"Thanks." Joe smiled at his friend.

"Anything I can do to help?" Tony asked hopefully. "Collig was here earlier with Con Riley. They wanted to talk to Davis – he’s the guy who delivered your pizza last night."

"Actually, we were hoping to talk to him ourselves." Frank interjected. "Is he still here?"

"He just left on a couple of deliveries, but he should be back before you finish eating." Tony explained, a sudden loud crash from the kitchen causing him to cringe. "Oh, geez, not again. We have a new server who’s all thumbs. I swear if she drops one more dish, Dad will fire her on the spot." Tony said, hurriedly getting up and heading for the kitchen. "I’ll be back." He called out, waving his hand.

Once again, Joe lapsed into silence, his thoughts bouncing between worry for Vanessa and guilt that he might have actually been the one who had hurt her. Subconsciously, Joe ran a hand over the bruises and scratches on his face, remembering the bruises and broken fingernails on Vanessa’s hand. If he concentrated, Joe could almost feel the softness of Vanessa’s skin as he had held her hand earlier in the afternoon. Wearily, Joe moved his hand upward rubbing his eyes.

"You okay?" Frank asked softly.

Joe looked up almost startled, having gotten so lost in thoughts of Vanessa he’d momentarily forgotten he wasn’t alone. "Sorry." Joe replied with a wan smile. "I know I’m not good company today."

"I think that’s understandable." Frank sympathized as Brad reappeared at the table bearing a large pepperoni pizza. After leaving and returning with fresh drinks, Brad left the brothers to enjoy their dinner.

As Frank had expected the meal was eaten in silence, even though he noted Joe barely finished one slice of pizza. Just as they were finishing up, Tony came back to the table. "Davis just got back. We’ll have another round of deliveries for him in about ten minutes. Is that enough time?"

"Should be." Frank replied, pulling out his wallet and throwing a few bills on the table. "Is there somewhere a little more private we could talk?" He requested, eyeing the people that were now crowded into the restaurant.

"You can use the office. This way." Tony said, already making his way towards the alley that led into the kitchen.

Frank and Joe found they had to dodge servers with trays of steaming food as well as busboys carrying bins of dirty dishes, almost running an obstacle course through the alley and kitchen area, finally emerging into a quiet hallway behind the kitchen. Stopping at a door on the right, Tony opened it, leading the Hardy’s inside.

A young man of about eighteen with wavy, light brown hair was sitting in a chair, nervously fingering the keys in his hand. His hazel eyes looked slightly larger than normal behind the wire-rimmed glasses he wore, although Frank wasn’t sure if that was due to the strength of the prescription or the anxiety at having been called into the bosses office twice in one day.

"Davis this is Frank and Joe Hardy. Guys, this is Davis Rennig." Tony made the introductions, and then took a seat on the edge of the desk.

"Hi". Davis said looking at Joe nervously. "D-does this have anything to do with why the cops wanted to talk to me this morning? Tony said you guys were private investigators."

"Yes, it does." Frank said, smiling at the teenager, hoping to make him feel a little more at ease. "Do you remember delivering a pizza to my brothers apartment last night?"

"Yeah." He eye Joe warily once more before breaking into a smile. "You’re a good tipper."

Joe shook his head and grunted a reply, but couldn’t contain a chuckle.

"Can you tell us exactly what happened from the time you pulled up to the apartment building until the time you drove away?" Frank asked.

"Sure, I guess so. I pulled up to the building, checked the order, pulled the pizzas and got out of the car. Then I went up to the front door and rang the buzzer. Some guy answered…you?" He looked at Joe questioningly.

"Yes, it was me." Joe confirmed.

"You asked who it was. I told you I was delivering the pizza’s you ordered and you buzzed me in. Told me to take the stairs to the second floor, turn right and you were the last apartment on the left." Davis continued, becoming more relaxed as he spoke. "I knocked on the door, you answered, took the pizza’s, paid me and I left." He finished with a shrug.

"Did you see anyone else while you were in the building? Anyone who looked like they didn’t belong?" Frank pressed, looking at Davis intently.

"No. Well, I mean I don’t think so." The boy replied, suddenly becoming uneasy at Frank’s steady gaze.

"What do you mean you don’t think so. Did you see someone else or not?" Joe demanded.

"Well, yeah I saw someone else. But he lived there. At least I think he lived there." Davis mumbled.

"Where did you see him?" Frank asked, trying to regain control of the questioning from his brother. Joe was not at all happy with this news and Davis was obviously getting very nervous.

"At the front door. I was going out when he was coming in, so I held the door open for him."

"You what?!" Joe exploded, advancing on the young man. "People are supposed to use their own keys to get in! Holding the door open for anyone who happens to be standing outside defeats the whole purpose of the security system!"

"I told you I thought he lived there!" Davis stammered, sinking down as if he were trying to become one with the chair.

"Why?! Just because he happened to be standing outside?!" Joe yelled. "If he lived there he would have had a key! He wouldn’t need you to hold the door open for him!"

"How am I supposed to know who lives there and who doesn’t? I was just trying to be nice!" Davis exclaimed, realizing it was the wrong thing to say as Joe lunged forward, grabbing the front of his shirt.

"You idiot! My girlfriend was almost killed last night!" Joe bellowed.

Instantly, Tony and Frank descended on Joe, prying his fingers loose from the now shaking teenager. "Joe, back off." Frank said firmly. "It was an honest mistake. Not very smart, but an honest mistake, none the less."

"Davis, you can go….NOW!" Tony urged, seeing Joe was not the least bit placated at Frank’s attempts to calm him down. Immediately, the young man launched himself out of the chair, a blur of movement as he fled the small office, slamming the door shut behind him.

Tony released his grip on Joe, while Frank kept a slight hold on his younger brother a few seconds longer, not trusting the fire still raging in his deep blue eyes. "Drop it, Joe. He’s just a kid who was trying to be polite." Still not letting Joe go completely, Frank turned to Tony. "Can you run out there and see if you can get a description of the guy?" He requested.

"Sure. Be right back." Tony agreed, disappearing out the door.

Once they were finally alone, Frank let go of Joe’s arm, but still watched him warily. Joe looked like a bomb that was ready to explode any second. Slowly, Joe took a few tentative steps towards the door.

"Joe…" Frank said warningly as Joe reached for the doorknob.

Stopping in front of the door, Joe raised his right hand, now balled into a fist and brought it down on the door with a dull thud. Not really a punch, but enough of an impact to release some pent up anger. Turning around, he leaned against the door and stared at his brother.

"Damn it, Frank, he let the guy walk right into our building. If he hadn’t…"

"If he hadn’t someone else would have done the same thing a few minutes later." Frank said gently. "Come on, Joe, how many times have we used the same ruse to get into a locked building."

Joe slumped against the door in defeat, and sighed. "I know. You’re right."

"Hey, at least we have a lead now. I can’t believe whoever that guy was actually lives in your building. If Davis can give us a halfway decent description and we can get a clear picture from the surveillance video, we might be able to ID the guy." Frank offered, trying to give Joe something positive to hold on to.

"Hey, could you let me in." Tony’s muffled voice floated through from the other side of the door. Stepping back, Joe opened the door allowing Tony to enter, noting the look of disgust on his friends face.

"Average height, average build, all dressed in black, and wearing a baseball cap." Tony said, not attempting to hide his disdain for the meager description. "Oh, but he said ‘Thank you’, so at least we know he’s polite."

"Some ID." Joe snorted in disgust. "Let’s go." He said, turning and leaving the office, calling out a half hearted thanks to Tony over his shoulder.

"Thanks for your help, Tony." Frank told their friend. "We really do appreciate it. Joe’s just…"

"Hey, no need to explain." Tony waved off the attempted apology. "If I were Joe, I’d be out for blood. I just wish Davis could have been more helpful."

"Oh, he was, believe me. Joe’s been eating himself up all day, thinking he’s the one who stabbed Vanessa. At least this shows him we can be fairly sure he and Vanessa weren’t alone in the apartment." Frank moved towards the door as he spoke. "I better go find him before you have one dead delivery guy on your hands."

"Call me if there’s anything I can do." Tony yelled down the hall after Frank.