‘Biker Conway and Joe Hardy are friends?’ he thought miserably. ‘How the heck was I supposed to know he hung out with that hoodlum?’

While never outwardly showing any sign of fear, Steven and his friends always gave Biker Conway and his gang a wide berth. He might not be the brightest bulb in a circuit, but Steven Miller knew enough not to bully someone who wasn’t easily intimidated. That thought brought him back to his current problem – Joe Hardy. The kid thought nothing of jumping into a fight he had no chance of winning to protect someone he cared about. Apparently he wasn’t easily intimidated either, something Steven wished he had known before going as far as he did with the threats.

Pulling into his driveway, Steven sat glumly looking at the house, making no move to get out. He had no desire to face his father and have to explain what had happened after school. He shivered knowing exactly what his father’s reaction would be.

‘Our first big game is tomorrow night. Maybe he’ll go easy on me,’ Steven tried to console himself, knowing that winning football games was more important to his father than anything – even him. At least that would make him stop short of doing anything that could prevent Steven from playing.

Resigning himself to his fate, Steven finally got out of his pick up and trudged toward the front door….

*****

Edward Miller stared at his son for several seconds before he finally exploded, his face crimson with rage. "You targeted JOE HARDY?!" he bellowed.

Steven backpedaled quickly knowing what was coming, but he wasn’t fast enough. He winced painfully when his father’s hand lashed out and cuffed him hard, catching him on the ear and cheek. It was quickly followed by a brutal shove, pinning Steven against the wall. He literally bit his tongue to remain silent, knowing a cry of pain would only infuriate his father more.

"JUST HOW STUPID ARE YOU?!" the elder Miller screamed, nose to nose with his son.

Edward drew his hand back, preparing to hit the boy when Steven flinched involuntarily. He smiled in spiteful satisfaction, apparently happy to know Steven was still terrified of him.

Releasing Steven with a final shove, he paced furiously, stopping every few seconds to glare hatefully at his son. Passing by the desk, he picked up a book and threw it at Steven, barely missing the teen’s face. Seemingly oblivious when the heavy book hit a crystal vase, shattering it to pieces, Edward resumed his verbal attack.

"Do you know who his father is?! Fenton Hardy…FENTON HARDY!! A private investigator! A former New York City cop, for God’s sake!! Even an idiot like you should know what that means! The man can’t be threatened, bought or paid off to keep quiet!"

Steven cringed as his father reached out and grabbed him by the jacket, yanking him forward until they were only inches apart.

"You darn well better hope you haven’t gone and done something I can’t fix," Miller’s voice was low and threatening. "We’re predicted to win the state football championship this year. When we do, I’ll be the only high school coach in state history who has won it five years straight. If you’ve screwed up my chances because you were too DUMB to do your homework on the incoming freshmen before you started terrorizing them…" he never finished, letting the unspoken threat hang ominously in the air.

Steven felt the color drain from his face, knowing his father never made idle threats. Hoping his father couldn’t see him shaking with fear, he was actually relieved when the older man roughly pushed him away.

"Get out of my sight. You make me sick!"

Turning, Steven raced from the room and up the stairs. Running into his bedroom he shut and locked the door. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Steven picked up his pillow with shaking hands, clutched it to his chest and cried.

*****

Joe leaned forward his eyes fixed on Callie. "Before I tell you my plan, what did you find out in these interviews you did this afternoon?"

"You mean aside from the fact that Steven and his buddies are the epitome of ‘dumb jock’?" she rolled her eyes. "Since students who participate in sports have to maintain a certain G.P.A. to stay on the team, I asked him if it was difficult keeping his grades up. I played on his ego, wondering how hard it was to be the star quarterback on the best team in the division and still find time to study. He gave me some garbage about how other students are so in awe of him they’ll go out of their way to ‘help’ him with his studies – particularly when it comes to exams."

"Did he say anything that could implicate him? Anything at all about forcing students to steal tests for him?" Joe asked excitedly.

"No, nothing," Callie replied, a little deflated. "He talked around it, did a lot of hinting that he could get almost anything he wanted, but never came right out and said anything specific."

"So he’s not that dumb," Joe muttered.

"What about the rest of them?" Frank pressed.

"I asked them about the things you mentioned," she replied, smiling at Frank. "Without raising their suspicions, of course," she finished quickly, seeing Joe was about to interrupt. "I asked Jonathan if they did anything special to help the freshmen adjust. He laughed and said the seniors gave them special attention to make them feel welcome. Clayton and Mike said they put the freshmen through ‘special drills’ to get them up to speed with the rest of the team and to help build team spirit."

"What about breaking in freshman girls?" Joe asked impatiently.

"I asked if any of them had a steady girlfriend," Callie said as her expression became serious. "They laughed and looked at each other like they were sharing an inside joke. Steven said so many girls flirted with them and wanted to date a football player that they dated a lot of girls, especially freshmen, to help them feel welcome to the school, too," her voice dropped a little.

Joe watched Frank reach over and cover Callie’s hand with his own. ‘Man he’s got it bad,’ he rolled his eyes, stifling the urge to make a sarcastic comment.

"I did a little research at the library after I finished the interviews. I got on the Internet and read up on hazing, particularly in sports. The majority of the time the coaches are aware it’s going on. They usually look the other way so if it’s discovered, they can say with all honesty that they don’t know the extent of it; they thought it was just ‘boys being boys’," Callie explained.

"That fits," Frank concurred. "Coach Miller knows something’s going on. Heath’s mother went to the principal after Miller said he wasn’t man enough to play on the varsity team.HHHHHh"

"And afterwards things got even worse for Heath," Joe said with disgust. "Which proves Coach knows a lot about what’s going on all right, but as long as the team keeps winning he doesn’t care."

"So the question is, how do we stop Steven and his buddies? They’re smart enough to know just what to say so they don’t implicate themselves."

"A confession," Joe said leaning forward excitedly.

"Well if they didn’t confess to me, they certainly aren’t going to confess to you!" Callie said, annoyed with the younger Hardy’s arrogance.

"Oh yeah?! I can get Steven to confess tonight!" Joe snapped.

"Oh please! Your ego is bigger than his!" Callie shot back.

"Is not!" Joe yelled childishly.

"ENOUGH!" Frank exclaimed, his frustration with both Joe and Callie growing. "What is it with you two anyway?!" he demanded, looking at them in irritation.

Joe and Callie glared at each other silently, neither one responding to Frank’s question.

Exhaling loudly, Frank gave them both a warning look. "Joe, you said you had a plan, so let’s hear it."

Joe threw a final dirty look at Callie before focusing on his brother. ‘Maybe if I ignore her, she’ll go away,’ he thought dully. "I call Steven and say I’ve changed my mind. I tell him I’ll do whatever he wants as long as he promises to leave Iola alone. I’ll get him to repeat everything – how he wants me to convince you to steal test answers for him; which tests he wants the answers to; how he’s gotten other students to steal for him in the past."

Joe paused only long enough to take a breath, not wanting to give Callie any time to ridicule his idea. "I can get him to talk about breaking in girls, too, and the hazing. Maybe even get him to admit what he’s done to Chet and me. Shouldn’t be too hard since he loves to talk about himself."

Callie, who had been fidgeting restlessly as Joe laid out his plan, couldn’t keep silent any longer. "Even if you get him to confess to everything, what good does it do?" she said in exasperation. "It would still just be your word against his which doesn’t prove a thing."

"You want to record it," Frank interrupted her, having figured out the rest of Joe’s plan. He nodded approvingly at his brother and then turned to Callie. "We get everything on tape, the whole conversation," he elaborated, unaware of the smug looks Joe was throwing at Callie. "Dad has a recorder that’s so high tech it could probably even pick up Steven’s heartbeat. If Joe gets Steven to brag about everything he’s done, we’ll have a detailed confession, on tape, in his own words."

"That’s a big if," Callie mumbled, feeling as if Frank were siding with Joe against her.

"Not that big," Frank said proudly. "You’d be amazed at what my little brother can do when he sets his mind to it."

Joe beamed at the praise, catching Callie’s eye and making sure she understood that he had won this round in the war for Frank’s attention.