Joe Hardy stared expectantly out into the dark, churning waters of the ocean below. His gaze traveled upward, to the twisted metal of the broken guard railing, then back down to the jagged rocks and slowly receding tide. Sliding his gaze along the shoreline, he stopped to watch the rescue crew working furiously to extricate the small blue convertible from the water. Or what was left of the small blue convertible. As a fireman from below gestured at one of his crew from above, the grinding winch began to turn. Chains slowly pulled the remains of the little blue car from the water. Joe winced as it emerged.

What on earth had she been doing out here at this time of night? he wondered. She wasn't supposed to leave until Saturday. She had decided to come to Bayport to spend spring break with Frank. Everything had been going so well, until tonight. Joe sighed and stared out at the wrecked car. The front end had crumpled in upon itself and the windshield was entirely gone. Joe felt a stab of grief at the thought that she might not have survived. Sure, they had their differences. But she was still his friend.

"I'm sorry Fenton," Joe heard Chief Collig tell his father. "They haven't found a body. The windshield appears to have been broken from the inside. I'm betting she was thrown from the car as it went over."

Joe looked up. "That's impossible. She always wears her seat belt."

Chief Collig frowned. "Sorry, Joe. Doesn't look like she did tonight. Maybe she

was distracted by something. All I can tell you is that there is no body in the car, and it appears she was thrown out. We have to hope that the tide didn't wash her out to sea."

"The 911 call you got? Did anyone mention seeing someone thrown from the car?" Joe asked.

"Sorry, Joe. All the man said was that he'd seen a small car lose control on the curve, smash through the guard rail, and go over the cliff. He didn't stick around for questioning. Apparently he told the emergency dispatch that he was behind on his run and would lose his rig if he was late with one more shipment. We'll try to track him, of course. But don't expect much. He called from a pay phone at a rest stop 2 miles from here."

Joe fought to keep the tears from falling. This just couldn't be happening. Why would she be out in a storm at this time of night? Was this his fault? After all, they'd fought this evening. She'd been preoccupied all day, and he convinced her to share what was bothering her. The little bombshell she dropped caught him completely off guard, and he reacted badly. Told her what a mistake she was making - a mistake that would ruin everyone's lives. He knew he upset her. He hadn't really been thinking clearly. She commented that if she had been Callie, he wouldn't have acted this way. He'd retorted that he most certainly would've. He didn't want to see Frank waste his life on any girl who thought only of herself.

It's not that he didn't like her. Sometimes she aggravated him; but that was just because he was jealous of how quickly Frank seemed to forget he existed when she was around. He'd been like that with Callie too. Finally, Joe had realized that Frank was a one woman man and he, Joe, would have to adjust. Secretly, he hoped that Frank would one day marry her. Just not any time soon. They were all too young to be planning for stuff like that. He repeated the comment on wasting Frank's life; then followed it up with a "this conversation never happened" remark. Oh, and the warning not to mention this to Frank. The look on her face could've shown no less hurt than if he'd slapped her. He'd wanted to take what he'd said back, but pride wouldn't let him. He'd simply walked away from her, leaving her to deal with this alone.

And now she was gone. And he might have been responsible. Why else would she have been out on this stretch of highway, during a storm, in the middle of the night, if she wasn't going home? Going home because of something he'd said. Joe felt as if a giant weight had settled on his chest and he struggled to breathe.

"I'm going to need to contact her family" Chief Collig was saying. "Do you have a number, Fenton?"

Fenton Hardy looked haggard. He stood looking out at the water silently for a moment. "Yes, I do. But I'll make the call. I've known Carson Drew for a number of years. If someone is going to wake him up in the middle of the night to tell him his only child has died, I'm going to do it. But you're going to have to give me an hour or so to figure out how. This is going to be the hardest thing that I've ever had to do in my life."

Joe looked over at his dad. Suddenly he felt much older than his 20 years. "No, it isn't, Dad."

Fenton looked at his son. "What do you mean?"

"Telling Nancy's dad will be the second hardest thing. The hardest will be when we break the news to Frank."