By the time they got in the car, Joe’s mood had swung back to sullen and brooding and the weather – overcast, spitting rain and unusually cool for mid-summer – did nothing to improve it. While his injuries weren’t serious Frank knew they were at the very least, uncomfortable and that combined with the still unresolved standoff with their father that morning, Frank could easily see Joe was feeling generally lousy. As a result, the drive to the docks was made mostly in silence save for the radio, although Frank wasn’t too sure it was going to survive the trip. Every time a commercial or a song Joe didn’t particularly care for came on, the younger Hardy would savagely push the buttons until he came across something he found at least tolerable. A few times Frank thought he was going to push the radio right through the dashboard. When they finally arrived Frank turned to his brother as Joe opened the door and started to get out of the car.

“Hey, Joe… When we get in there let me do the talking, okay?”

Joe slowly turned to him, glowered angrily for a moment, muttered, “Yeah, fine, whatever,” and got out, slamming the door so hard the car shook.

“Hey, easy on the car!” Frank snapped as he got out and caught up with Joe. “You know, you need to talk to Dad – calmly – and clear the air about all this.”

In response, Joe shoved his hands in his pockets, slouched his shoulders and kept walking – and Frank knew he’d hit a nerve. ‘Okay, well at least he’s thinking about it!’ Frank thought, taking comfort where he could.

After asking for directions, they finally found the company’s main office at the far end of the dock behind the large containers that held the cargo offloaded from the huge tankers that pulled into port each day. Frank approached the receptionist, identified himself and Joe and asked to speak with someone in Personnel. A few moments later a man in his early forties with light brown hair and a beard approached them.

“I’m Greg Davies, Director of Personnel,” he introduced himself, shaking hands with the Hardy brothers. “How can I help you?”

“Thanks for seeing us, Mr. Davies. I’m Frank Hardy and this is my brother Joe,” Frank said. He glanced around the almost empty reception area but thought it best not to take any chances of being overheard – both to protect the privacy of whomever owned the car and to make sure they didn’t give away any details of the case. “Maybe we could talk somewhere a little more private?” he requested.

“Uh, certainly,” Davies said, sounding anything but. “This way.” He led them through a maze of hallways to a small office, directing Frank and Joe to the only two chairs before closing the door and sitting behind his desk. “Now… what can I do for you?”

“Well,” Frank began, leaning forward slightly. “We’re private investigators assisting the police in trying to catch a group of thieves. At one of the robberies, the getaway car had a parking sticker from Sampson Shipping. We also have a partial license plate with the letters ‘ZRT’ which we traced to a Danny Pacheco. We were hoping you could tell us if Mr. Pacheco works here and if so could we talk to him?”

Davies looked from Frank to Joe and back again, a stunned expression on his face. “Are you saying one of our employees is a thief?”

“No, not at all,” Frank replied smoothly. “We just need to talk to him. Ask him a few questions so that we can rule him out.”

Davies sat back and chewed on his lower lip for a moment, debating the request. Then he turned to his computer and tapped a few keys. He stared at the monitor for a moment and then stood up. “I’ll be right back,” he said and abruptly left the office.

Joe turned to Frank and raised his eyebrows. “Okaaaaay…”

“Maybe he went to get the guy,” Frank suggested.

“Yeah, or maybe he went to warn the guy.”

“Ever the optimist,” Frank muttered, deciding he really didn’t like it when Joe was in one of his rare bad moods.

Several minutes later the door opened and Mr. Davies walked in trailed by a young man in his mid-twenties with dirty blonde hair and sullen blue eyes.

Frank glanced at Joe in a silent question asking if Joe recognized him at all. Joe frowned in disgust and shook his head no.

“Danny Pacheco, Frank and Joe Hardy,” Davies said, “they want to talk to you for a few minutes.” He turned to leave then stopped and looked at Frank. “Let me know when you’re done.”

“Will do,” Frank nodded as Davies left and closed the door behind him.

Danny eyed them suspiciously as he leaned against the desk and crossed his arms over his chest. “So who are you and what do you want?”

“I’m Frank Hardy. This is my brother Joe,” Frank said simply repeating what Greg Davies had already said. “We just wanted to ask you a few questions. Where were you last night?”

“Why?”

“Just answer the question!” Joe snapped.

“No!”

‘Great, two Alpha males!’ Frank thought wearily. He knew Joe had to be hurting today even if he wouldn’t admit it. Add that to his fight with Fenton, his worry about Vanessa and frustration at not finding the ring yet and Joe’s already limited supply of patience was just about non-existent. Seeing the situation was rapidly deteriorating, Frank regained Danny’s attention. “Look, your car was seen in the alley behind Sal’s Pizza last night immediately after it was robbed. We are working with the police to try and solve the robbery – and a few others.”

“So, what – you’re accusing me of robbing the place?!” he yelled, incredulous.

“We just want to rule you out, that’s all,” Frank responded smoothly. “That’s why we need to know where you were last night.”

Danny glared silently for a moment, then finally replied. “Hangin’ out with my buddies.”

“Where?” Frank asked.

“I told you, with my buddies!”

Frank wasn’t sure yet if Danny was involved and trying to cover it up or just being a pain in the ass. “They’ll vouch for you?” he asked, trying a different tack.

“Yeah.”

“So you were no where near Sal’s last night?”

“No.”

“So you have no idea how your car ended up in the alley?”

Danny looked at his nails, bored, and shrugged. “I have two roommates. Maybe one of them ‘borrowed’ it.”

Frank could almost hear Joe finally snap at Danny’s attitude. “That car almost ran me down last night!” Joe yelled. “And one of the guys gave me this!” Joe snarled, pointing to the bandage on his head, then yanked up his shirt sleeve savagely, adding “And this!”

“Well if you were there, maybe you’re the one who robbed the place!” Pacheco shot back.

Joe swore under his breath and started forward as did Danny and Frank found himself sandwiched between the two of them. ‘So much for letting me do the talking,’ he thought, shaking his head in annoyance and then muttered, “Back off, Joe,” giving his brother a gentle shove as he looked at the other man. “Look, we’re just trying to figure out what’s going on, that’s all,” Frank said diplomatically.

Pacheco stood his ground for a moment, glaring at Joe with the youngest Hardy returning the look with equal venom and then finally took a step back.

“Two buddies and I went to Atlantic City last night – one of them drove! We got back just in time to clock in this morning.”

“Yeah, right,” Joe snorted in disgust but Frank eyed the man closely. He did look like he’d been up partying and drinking all night. And other than the car, which could have been driven by anyone, they had no real evidence he was at the scene of the crime. He could be telling the truth Frank mused, realizing they probably had all the information they were going to get for the moment. Right now they needed to check his alibi – and not antagonize him any more!

Frank spotted a pad of paper and a pen on the desk. Reaching for them he asked, “Can you write down the names of your roommates and friends and their contact information? And what casinos you hit last night?”

When Danny simply stared at him Frank added placatingly, “Once we talk to them and they confirm your story, we can officially rule you out as a suspect.”

As Danny snatched the paper from him and began writing, Frank could practically feel Joe’s angry glare on his back and wondered if it would leave a burn. They waited silently while Danny scribbled the information down and handed it to Frank.

“Thank you,” Frank said folding the paper and putting it in his pocket as he pushed Joe towards the door.

“Hey!”

Frank stopped and turned around.

“If you find out who’s been ‘borrowing’ my car let me know so I can beat the crap out of him!” Danny said.

Frank nodded, nudged Joe again and they left.

*****

Slouched down in the passenger seat, Joe spent most of the drive back to the office staring out the window… and thinking. He replayed the fight with his father, and Frank’s blunt and truthful assessment, over several times in his mind and kept coming back to the same conclusion – he owed his father an apology. He had been wrong the previous evening in not sticking to the agreed upon plan; he’d compounded that mistake by not coming clean with his father immediately. And this morning, when he’d stalled and tried to put off the inevitable a little too long instead of sucking it up and taking responsibility and Fenton found out on his own, Joe tried to defend his actions – actions that he’d already admitted to himself had been wrong.

When Frank pointed out the reasons for Fenton’s seeming overreaction, Joe had felt like a heel. And like a pretty lousy excuse for a son. Over the years even when Joe gave his father good reason to be angry with him or disappointed in the choices he made as he had last night and today, Joe never, ever doubted Fenton’s love. It was total and unconditional even when Joe felt he didn’t quite deserve it… like now. So by the time they arrived back at the office, Joe was anxious to make things right with his father.

He followed Frank into the office and when Frank veered to the right and the hallway that housed their offices, Joe headed left. Apparently sensing Joe’s change of direction, Frank turned and looked at him.

“You coming?” Frank asked, waving down the hall.

Joe thought for a moment then slowly shook his head. “You go ahead. There’s something I need to do. I’ll be there in a minute.” He turned and walked down the hall towards Fenton’s office, missing the smile of approval on his brother’s face.

Joe’s pace slowed as he approached his father’s office, stopping just inside the open doorway. There was no sign of Sam and Fenton was hunched over his desk, absorbed in paperwork, oblivious to Joe’s presence. Joe watched him for a moment and then tentatively approached.

“Dad?”

Fenton looked up questioningly but said nothing.

Joe stopped a few feet in front of Fenton’s desk, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “I…uh…I… I wanted to apologize. For last night… and this morning. I’m supposed to be an adult and a professional and in the last twenty-four hours I haven’t acted like either. I’m sorry I didn’t follow the plan. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you everything last night, sorry I worried you, sorry I scared you…” Joe let out a frustrated exhale, his shoulders slumping. “And I’m sorry I’m an idiot. I’m just really… sorry.” He turned to leave and was halfway to the door when Fenton’s voice stopped him.

“My son isn’t an idiot.”

Joe immediately felt the tension drain from his body. He let out a soft chuckle and turned halfway around. “You sure about that?”

Fenton leaned back in his chair and smiled. “Yes, I’m sure. He’s passionate about what he believes, he does everything to extremes, and despite the fact that he’s matured a lot in the past several years, sometimes he still thinks with his heart first, especially when it involves someone he loves.” Fenton clasped his hands and leaned forward slightly, staring at Joe. “And if that’s the worst thing he does, I’m proud to call him my son.”

…..

Fenton saw the flush in Joe’s cheeks as he came back and sat in one of the chairs in front of the desk. Fenton stared at him for a moment, able to see both the little boy Joe had once been and the young man he’d become, and he was torn. Joe had always been fiery and emotional, almost from the day he was born. His gut instincts were almost always dead on target and he got the job done even when he flew by the seat of his pants.

While Fenton wanted – needed – Joe to stop and think before he acted, he also didn’t want to crush his son’s spirit. Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, Fenton reflected on how much Joe had matured since his teens, when it seemed he was always ruled by his heart and emotions. Becoming an adult he seemed to learn how to control those impulses – unless it involved someone he loved. Then the stakes became too high and Joe reverted back to throwing caution and common sense to the wind and letting his heart lead the way.

“I’m sorry, Dad,” Joe said again. “I know I was wrong last night.” He sighed heavily and shook his head in disgust. “You know just when I think I’ve grown up, I go and make some bone-head stupid move like that. And when it’s all over and I look back on it all I can think is ‘What were you thinking?! Why did you do something so stupid?’ ”

“Why?” Fenton repeated, leaning forward. “Because your heart is in the right place. Sometimes too much so. When someone you love is involved you put so much more pressure on yourself to solve the problem – immediately! When in fact that’s when you should be taking a little extra time to make sure you’re doing everything safely and by the book.”

“Yeah, well I know that up here,” Joe said, pointing to his head, “but when I start thinking from here,” he put a hand on his chest, and then shrugged helplessly, “I don’t know, it’s like I get blindsided. All I can think of is someone I love is hurting and I want to fix it, right now. And all my common sense and all the things I know I should do go out the window.”

Fenton smiled inwardly. Family and the people he loved had always been more important to Joe than anything in the world. ‘Hmmm…’ Fenton thought, as a light bulb suddenly came on and he wondered why he hadn’t thought of this angle before. He and Joe had had similar conversations in the past yet he’d never been able to hit on the one piece of advice that Joe could latch on to. ‘Maybe that’s the key. Have him put himself in our shoes…’

“Well,” Fenton began, “Maybe the next time it happens,” he stopped and grinned, “because we both know it’s going to happen again - you can look at it from our perspective.”

“Uh… I’m not sure I follow you,” Joe frowned.

“What if you lost the most important material possession you owned. Something that had so much personal and emotional value to you that you were devastated. And what if Frank was able to get it back for you – but he was seriously or permanently injured or even killed, in the process. Would it still mean that much to you? Would you be glad to have it back no matter what the cost?”

“No, of course not,” Joe shook his head adamantly.

“Exactly. And that’s how we feel, all the people you love you. You – and your life – are more important to us than solving any case or catching any suspect or retrieving any piece of jewelry… no matter who it belongs to or how much emotional value it has. Maybe next time you find yourself in a situation where it seems like a good idea to think with your heart instead of your head, you could take a few seconds to remember that and really weigh the options. Maybe it would help keep you on the right track.”

Joe was silent for a long moment, really thinking about what Fenton had said. Then slowly he smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I think I could try that.”

“Good,” Fenton replied. He leaned back again and then looked Joe in the eye and said, “You know, I owe you an apology, too.”

“Why?” Joe asked puzzled. “I mean let’s face it, I deserved everything you said this morning. Probably more.”

“Maybe,” Fenton frowned, “but I shouldn’t have said it in front of an audience.”

Joe snorted and rolled his eyes. “It was Frank and Sam. They’re not an audience, they’re family.”

“Still, I should have waited. Words can be more powerful than any weapon. They can open wounds that may never fully heal and once they’re spoken they can’t be taken back. I’ve always told you and your brother never to speak in the heat of anger yet that’s exactly what I did this morning. I should have waited until I was calmer – and then said what I had to say in private. I didn’t do that and I’m sorry, Joe.”

“Okay,” Joe smiled, “We both screwed up and we both apologized. We’re even.”

“Good,” Fenton smiled back, feeling much lighter than he had just a few hours earlier. “So, what did you and Frank find out?”

*****

Once Joe explained what he and Frank had uncovered at Sampson Shipping, the pace of the investigation picked up considerably. It was decided that he and Frank would check out Danny Pacheco’s alibi while Fenton and Sam would track down the roommates and see what information a basic background check might reveal. While they didn’t get all the answers they were looking for, the foursome made considerable progress and by the time nightfall came they all agreed to start fresh in the morning.

Joe arrived home shortly after Vanessa, who tried vainly to hide her disappointment that her beloved ring was still missing. They went through the motions of making and eating dinner, though neither one of them seemed to enjoy it much, poking at their food more than eating it.

After the table was cleared and the dishes washed, they settled in on the couch and pretended to watch t.v. They’d been sitting in silence for a while when Joe felt more than heard Vanessa take a deep breath and let it out slowly and haltingly. She picked up the remote and pressed the mute button.

“Joe?” she said softly.

Joe turned to look at her and as he had so often lately, saw her staring at her left hand disconsolately.

“Yeah?”

Slowly she looked up at him, her eyes shining with a mixture of relief and sadness. “Maybe we should just put in an insurance claim and get a replacement.”

“What?!” Joe cried out.

Vanessa stared at him looking scared and resigned. “Joe… you are more important to me than any ring could ever be, even one with so many memories attached. And the bottom line is he may have stolen my ring but he can’t ever steal my memories.”

She stopped and moved closer to him, taking his hand. “I do not want you to get hurt – or worse – trying to get the ring back. I’d never forgive myself…” she almost whispered.

“Look, Van…” Joe said, desperate to convince her not to give up. They had good leads now and they were getting so close! “Dad and Frank were right. What happened last night was my own stupid fault. I just acted without thinking but that will not happen again, I promise. We’re getting close and I know we’re gonna get him! We got a new lead – a partial plate and a parking sticker and that led us to a guy who’s given us even more leads! Van, please… don’t give up now. I’ll be more careful, I promise.”

Vanessa looked at him, her lips trembling up into a sad smile. “I don’t want anything to happen to you, Joe. Nothing is worth that.”

Joe wrapped his arm around her, pulled her close and held her thinking of the irony – hadn’t he said almost the exact same thing to her the night the ring was stolen and she hadn’t wanted to give it up? “Nothing will happen to me, Babe… nothing.”

Let the author know what you think of this story

email your positive feedback to hdafeedback@yahoo.com

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

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.