Joe emptied his pockets and then submitted to a quick pat down and finally stood while the metal detecting wand hovered over him, sweeping from head to toe.

“Okay,” the guard said and then pressed a button. There was a loud buzzing and a set of barred doors opened allowing Joe to enter what was essentially a barred cubicle. The door closed behind him and locked with an ominous click. Only then did an identical door in front of him open.

“This way,” another guard said, jerking his head.

Joe kept his eyes straight ahead ignoring the shouts, catcalls and obscenities being shouted at him by the inmates housed in the state penitentiary. He’d been here before on occasion to question suspects so he knew the drill – don’t look at, reply to or otherwise engage any of the prisoners. Thankfully the walk to the visitation room was short and they were standing outside the closed door in less than a minute.

The guard opened the door and stepped inside, waiting until Joe walked in. “I’ll be right outside the door,” he said to Joe, before throwing a warning glance at the man already seated at the table. Walking out of the room, he closed the door behind him.

Joe stood for a minute eyeing Dylan Bradford guardedly. When Dylan had first requested a meeting with him, Joe had immediately vetoed the idea, stunned at the nerve of the man. But the request had ignited a fire under Joe’s inquisitive nature and one question soon dominated his every thought – Why? What could Dylan Bradford possibly have to say to him? Joe had waited several days, assuming the burning need to know would pass but it didn’t and so he grudgingly agreed to the meeting. Pulling out a chair he sat down and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Okay, I’m here…whaddya want?” Joe’s voice wasn’t quite as indifferent as he’d hoped, his insatiable curiosity almost giving him away.

Dylan looked him straight in the eyes. “I want to apologize…and to thank you.”

Joe raised his eyebrows but said nothing. Of all the scenarios he’d come up with as to why Dylan wanted to meet with him, that had never entered his mind.

Dylan fidgeted a little bit, though it seemed less like nerves and more as if he were just trying to gather his thoughts. “Your girlfriend…fiancée…I’m sorry. I saw the look in her eyes when I grabbed her.”

Joe stiffened, his curiosity gone. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, his voice like ice.

Dylan looked at him – stared at him – and Joe saw something in his eyes. A look he’d often seen reflected in the mirror…. Dylan knew. He knew what it was like to sit back and watch, helpless, while someone he loved more than anything in the world suffered, tortured by terrifying memories he’d never be able to erase. He knew what it was like being powerless to stop the suffering; and that knowledge came from personal experience.

“My girlfriend, Tanya, when she was fourteen her mom started working third shift and her bastard of a stepfather took a liking to her…for the next three years.”

Joe held his gaze, feeling sick – and enraged.

“Yeah,” Dylan said having recognized the look. “My thoughts exactly. About a month after we started dating I found out…and beat the crap out of him.”

“Good,” Joe murmured.

“And the next day her mom kicked her out. Said it was all her fault.”

Joe’s eyes grew huge, unable to fathom first, a parent failing to protect their child and then blaming that child when the truth finally came to light.

Dylan shrugged. “In hindsight it was for the best. She was only seventeen and suddenly on her own but it got her out of that house and away from him.”

Joe shifted uncomfortably. “And he never…”

“No,” Dylan said swiftly. “I made it absolutely clear – if he even looked at her again, the next time I would kill him. And if he ever does, I will – without hesitation.”

“I hear ya,” Joe said darkly.

“Yeah… So, your fiancée…I’m sorry, man. Really, really sorry.”

Joe sat back a little stiffly. Unfortunately he could relate very well to Dylan on one level; on another level however, he was not ready to forgive him for what he’d put Vanessa through. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

“Is she…how’s she doing?” Dylan asked uncertainly.

“Better,” Joe said curtly.

“Good, good,” Dylan muttered, shifting nervously, avoiding Joe’s eyes for a moment before looking at him again. “Ya know, I almost gave it – the ring – back the very next day…”

“Why didn’t you?” Joe demanded, shocked at the confession.

“Tanya,” he said simply. “I wanted to propose to her. That’s why I took it in the first place – not to sell it or anything. To propose…”

Joe wasn’t entirely surprised. Frank had figured that out almost immediately.

“But I kept seeing your fiancée’s eyes… How scared she was…” Dylan stopped for a moment, took a drink of water from the plastic bottle he’d been rolling between his hands and then continued. “I’d already decided to send it back – to the cops or that restaurant. The guy I whacked on the head seemed pretty chummy with her.”

“Yeah, he’s an old friend…a good friend,” Joe murmured still angry about Tony getting hurt but also intrigued, wanting to know more.

“Yeah, I figured he could get it back to her.” Dylan shifted and continued. “But when I picked Tanya up that night she was upset – I mean really, really upset.” His eyes darkened. “She saw him, that sonofabitch stepfather of hers, that afternoon.”

Instantly Joe leaned forward, his stomach lurching. “He didn’t—”

“No, no way,” Dylan shook his head forcefully. “He knows I’d kill him in a heartbeat. It was just a chance thing – she was out at lunchtime and saw him across the street. He didn’t even notice her. It still shook her up though – bad. And there was nothing I could do, you know, to make her feel better. I just felt—”

“Helpless,” Joe finished, knowing exactly how Dylan had felt.

“Yeah. Next thing I knew I had the ring in my hand and I was proposing.” Dylan smiled sadly at the memory. “Worked like a charm, too. She was so happy she was beside herself. Forgot all about him…. Man, she loved that ring.”

“I would hope so,” Joe said dryly. “It was one of a kind.” He nodded at the shocked look on Dylan’s face. “Yeah, I had it made special, just for Vanessa. I even helped design it.”

“Oh, man…” Dylan leaned his head back staring at the ceiling for a moment. “Geez, leave it to me to steal a one of a kind ring.” He looked Joe straight in the eye once more. “Dude, I really am sorry.”

“Yeah…so you’ve said,” Joe replied. He knew deep inside that Dylan really was sorry but it was still too soon…and he’d hurt Vanessa; in Joe’s book that was unforgivable.

After a few minutes of strained silence, Dylan cleared his throat and spoke again. “I also wanted to thank you.”

Joe’s eyebrows shot up questioningly. “For what?”

Dylan chuckled darkly and waved a hand around the room. “For this. I still have a hard time believing it myself but landing here – in prison – is probably the best thing that ever happened to me. And you’re the one who put me here. So thanks…”

Joe leaned forward, almost involuntarily, putting his elbows on the table. He wanted to hate this man – with a passion – but he was also curious. “I’m not following you.”

Dylan half snorted, half laughed. “Yeah, I’m not surprised. My mom gave me up when I was like seven. A kid didn’t fit into her lifestyle. And no one wants a seven year old. I grew up in the system.”

“So that gave you the right to steal what you wanted from hard-working people instead of working for it yourself?” Joe snapped.

Dylan’s eyes flashed and now he leaned forward. “I bet you grew up in a nice house, didn’t you? Had parents who put a roof over your head, made sure you had warm clothes in the winter and never let you go hungry, right? Hell, I bet they even loved you!” he snapped as if that were a bonus instead of a given. “And I bet you went to college, didn’t you? Probably on a scholarship. And whatever that didn’t cover Mom and Dad paid for, right? And it never once occurred to you not to expect all that, did it? Like it was a right instead of a privilege.” Dylan stared at Joe, darkly. “I don’t know why I ever thought you might understand. Your life was perfect,” he spat out.

While he agreed silently that Dylan made a point – maybe a lot of kids, Joe included, had taken those things for granted – painful memories of the last eighteen months mingled with the happy childhood memories. “Not quite as perfect as you want to think,” Joe replied, stonily. Verbally he had no intention of giving Dylan any more than that but he knew his eyes would betray him.

Dylan stared at him for a long moment and then shifted uncomfortably obviously reading something in Joe’s eyes – something that told him Joe’s seemingly picture-perfect life held some very dark secrets. “Okay, so we both have things in our closet we want to keep hidden.”

Joe crossed his arms over his chest and snorted softly. Sitting back, he stretched his long legs out under the table comfortably.

“Look, the point I’m trying to make is, all my life all I ever wanted was the same things other kids did. The things kids like you, who weren’t a ward of the state that nobody wanted, took for granted. As much as growing up in the system hardened me, I was still naïve about some things. I still thought I’d get the same shot at college that other kids did. Hell, all I wanted was trade school. But once I hit eighteen I was no longer a kid and they basically tossed me out with nothing more than “Good luck” and a pat on the back.” Dylan spread his hands, questioningly, a bitterness in his voice. “Why is it so bad to want more than some crap minimum wage job? I just want to make a decent living. Support me and Tanya and maybe a kid or two. That’s all.”

Joe chewed on his lip, not sure what to say. He could see where Dylan was coming from and on some level actually felt sorry for him; but that still didn’t justify what he’d done.

“And that’s where the thanks come in,” Dylan continued, this time with a begrudging smile. “I never wanted to be a career criminal. Hell, I never wanted to be a criminal at all. And thanks to you now I don’t have to – not anymore. I pled guilty and I’m cooperating completely. I’m gonna testify against the other guys when they go to trial. I know you still might not believe me but I didn’t want to steal from anyone. I just wanted to go to trade school – become a certified, trained mechanic. Then I could get a decent paying job and get Tanya the hell away from this town and all the bad memories that go with it. But there was no way I could save enough for school making minimum wage…. I really do have a conscience. I know it was wrong but I just didn’t see any other way out.”

“But now?” Joe pressed, still not sure how being in prison solved Dylan’s problems.

“For starters, I truly am sorry. I told the cops and the judge that and I gave all the money back.”

“You still had it?” Joe blurted out.

“Dude, I just told you – I was saving for school!” Dylan replied actually sounding a little insulted and Joe had to keep from laughing out loud.

‘The guy steals money and saves every penny so he can go to school, get an education and a good job to eventually give up his life of crime and work for a living like the rest of us…I think I’ve heard everything now!’ Joe bit his lip and forced his attention back to Dylan and his explanation.

“I had all of it in a safe deposit box. I gave the key to the cops the night I was arrested.”

“What about the other guys?”

Dylan rolled his eyes. “Losers. They already blew their take on chicks, booze and drugs.”

“So how does all this help you?” Joe asked, spreading his hands helplessly.

Dylan smiled, genuinely this time. “Did you know they offer classes on just about everything in here? Even auto mechanics… This,” Dylan waved his hand around, “is my ticket out. The right way, this time.”

Joe couldn’t help but grin. “So you’re gonna take classes?”

“Already started,” Dylan said, sitting back and mimicking Joe’s relaxed posture. “This is my first offense and I actually have a decent public defender who helped me cut a deal. I already pled guilty, returned all the money and agreed to help the prosecution. I’ll testify against the other guys when they go to trial and in return I get two years in minimum security.”

“I bet that doesn’t make you too popular in here, though,” Joe observed.

Dylan shrugged, nonplussed. “I’ve been on my own pretty much my whole life. I had to learn how to watch my own back a long time ago. I mind my own business, take my classes and keep my nose clean. If I can do that for ten more months, they’ll put me on work release for my last twelve months. And by the time I’m out of here I’ll have my certification. If I can get an apprenticeship, when I complete it, I should be able to get a good job. Me and Tanya can finally get out of this hell hole of a town and never look back.”

Joe nodded thoughtfully. Dylan seemed sincere and for that he was glad. But the mention of Tanya’s name brought up a troubling thought – one Joe couldn’t shake. “How is Tanya?” he asked hesitantly. “I mean…does her stepdad know you’re in here?”

Once more Joe saw a look he’d often seen in his own eyes – fear that he couldn’t protect the woman he loved – and knew Dylan had been having the same thought. “I don’t know and that scares me. I know I put the fear of God into him but I’m not sure it’s enough to keep him away from her if he knows I can’t get to him.”

Joe pursed his lips and frowned in concentration for a moment. “How about if I paid him a visit then. Just to let him know that even if you’re on the inside now, that doesn’t mean there still isn’t someone on the outside watching out for her…at least until you get out.”

Dylan’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You – you’d do that for me?”

“I’d do it for her,” Joe amended but with a begrudging smile.

Dylan swallowed hard and Joe thought he saw a touch of moisture in the man’s eyes. “Thank you,” Dylan said hoarsely.

“What’s his name? And address if you know it,” Joe asked.

“Harvey Olson.” Dylan’s voice held a cold hatred Joe himself was very familiar with. “Eight-eighteen Tenth Street. It’s downtown near the crappy section of the waterfront.”

Joe committed the information to memory. “I’ll go see him this week and have a little…chat.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it…” Dylan said, “…for Tanya.”

Nodding, Joe stood to leave. He took a few steps towards the door but stopped and hesitated…thinking. Finally he looked back at Dylan. “When you’re ready for that apprenticeship, let me know.”

Dylan stared at him, puzzled and surprised.

“A buddy of mine owns a garage,” Joe explained. “He’s always looking for good mechanics. He might be willing to give you a chance…”

Again, Dylan’s eyes grew wide and he was momentarily lost for words. “I will…thank you.”

“Just don’t screw it up, okay?” Joe said with one final glance around the depressing gray room.

“Not a chance,” Dylan promised.

As Joe walked out the door, he thought it was a promise Dylan was going to be able to keep; after all he had the ultimate motivation…the love of his life waiting for him on the outside.

*****

Leaving the prison and walking back to his car, Joe felt very unsettled. The conversation with Dylan was really starting to sink in and the realizations that were now dawning because of it shook him to the very core.

Getting in the car Joe glanced up, checking the rearview mirror and stopped. For the first time in his life someone who could be a stranger was staring back at him. ‘What if…’ he thought, venturing into territory he wasn’t sure he wanted to see.

What if Dylan had been born the youngest son of Fenton and Laura Hardy? What if Dylan had been christened Joseph Paul Hardy? He would have enjoyed all the privileges that went with it – the complete and unconditional love of two parents who put their children above themselves…above everything. The security of a doting older brother who would do anything for him. The picture-perfect childhood where his biggest worry was how to wheedle his mother into letting him stay up past his bedtime.

What if Joe had been the one born to a drug-addicted prostitute? A woman who wasn’t even sure who the father of her child was. A woman who, after seven years, decided she had changed her mind. She put herself first and wanted to rid herself of the burden her son had become. A woman who threw a defenseless child to the wolves because she couldn’t be bothered anymore…

‘Seven…’ Joe thought, trying to remember himself at seven years old. It had been only one year since Tilghman’s men had grabbed him; he knew that now but at the time he had no idea. Thinking hard Joe tried to recall…had he known about it on some level back then? ‘No,’ he decided with relief and gratitude. The only thing he could recall about that time in his life was being a very happy, energetic carefree kid. His parents had been incredibly overprotective but at the time Joe didn’t even realize that’s what it was. All he knew was that he was getting a lot of extra attention from his mom and dad and he sucked it up for all he was worth.

At the age of seven Joe was reveling in being the center of his parents’ world and accepted and loved unconditionally by the older brother he worshipped. At the age of seven, Dylan Bradford was being rejected by his own mother in the most painful way possible. She tossed him aside, returned him like a sweater she decided she didn’t like anymore. He was completely alone left to fend for himself against the system that was now charged with raising him.

Joe knew it wasn’t because he was special or better than Dylan that their lives had turned out so drastically different. It was simply fate. He won that draw and Dylan got the raw end of the deal. The knowledge chilled him.

“There but for the grace of God go I,” he murmured to his reflection. He’d always thought he understood what the saying meant but today he actually felt it, each and every word striking a chord deep within his soul.

Slowly Joe turned the key in the ignition as a mass of thoughts and emotions tumbled around in his mind, each one fighting for control. Relief, shame, appreciation, immense gratitude…and love. Pulling out of the parking lot, he began the long drive home, taking it much slower than he normally would, needing the time to think.

‘There but for the grace of God…’

It wasn’t that Joe never knew how lucky he was being born into such a close-knit, loving family. He had two parents who still adored each other and who loved their children more than anything in the world. He was blessed with an older brother who was also his best friend, watching out for him, protecting him…who would kill or die for him if it came down to that. Dylan’s comments made him realize that while he was truly grateful for his parents and his brother, he too often took them for granted, sometimes forgetting just how thankful he should be.

Just as unsettling was the thought that they had both grown up in the same town yet had seen it through such drastically different eyes. Joe loved Bayport and couldn’t conceive of living anywhere else in the world. It was home and represented family, warmth and safety. Dylan hated it, seeing only a town that held him down, turned on him and beat him into the ground every chance it got. While Joe often couldn’t wait to get home to Bayport, Dylan couldn’t wait to get out.

All these thoughts kept Joe company on his hour-long drive back to the office. Upon arriving he went straight to Frank’s office. He’d told Frank about Dylan’s request and had eventually gone to his older brother for advice, when it began to dominate his every thought. It was only after talking it out with Frank and getting his more logical and less emotionally invested perspective on it that Joe had finally agreed.

“So how’d it go?” Frank asked, leaning back in his chair.

Leaning against the doorframe, Joe thought for a minute, not sure he could really put the whole surreal meeting into words. “You know how Dad says that sometimes criminals are just good people caught in really bad situations? Like the only choices life gives them is bad, worse and worst?”

“Uh-huh,” Frank nodded.

“I think he’s one of those.”

“Really?” Frank responded, surprised, and Joe chuckled softly. This man had hurt Vanessa, mentally and emotionally, if not physically. Frank had probably been expecting a phone call from Joe saying he’d been arrested for assault and requesting bail money rather than a grudging understanding.

“Yeah, really. I mean he was wrong, one hundred percent wrong but…let’s just say he knows that and is willing to do the time and start fresh – and clean – once he’s released.”

“You think he means it?”

Again Joe thought carefully before answering but then smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I do…I really do.” He turned and started to leave but Dylan’s words swirled around him, holding him back.

“I’ve been on my own pretty much my whole life. I had to learn how to watch my own back a long time ago.”

While Joe had come to the realization that and he Dylan had more things in common than he’d originally thought, being all alone in the world and having to watch out for himself was not one of them. In fact if Joe was honest with himself, it was one of the things he’d always taken for granted. And it was time he did something about that, starting with his brother…

Turning back around, he leaned against the doorframe again. “Hey, Frank…”

“Hmm?” Frank looked up.

Joe smiled, feeling very grateful for the life he’d been given, dark secrets and all. “Thanks.”

One dark eyebrow rose in puzzlement. “For what?”

“For always watching my back,” Joe replied and then winked. “All things considered, I could’ve done a whole lot worse in the big brother lottery.”

Frank looked surprised for a moment and then chuckled softly, long ago having stopped trying to follow Joe’s sometimes seemingly random train of thought. “You’re welcome.”

Joe smiled again, genuine and heartfelt. “Just wanted you to know…I never say it, but I always appreciate it. Thanks, bro.”

This time Joe did turn and leave, recalling a few more of Dylan’s stark truths…

“I bet you grew up in a nice house, didn’t you? Had parents who put a roof over your head, made sure you had warm clothes in the winter and never let you go hungry, right? Hell, I bet they even loved you! And I bet you went to college, didn’t you? Probably on a scholarship. And whatever that didn’t cover Mom and Dad paid for, right? And it never occurred to you not to expect all that, did it?”

Rather than go to his own office, Joe headed straight for the house where he knew his parents were having lunch. He had a few more thank you’s that needed to be said…

THE END

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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.