He hailed a cab and instructed the driver to take him to the Roosevelt Hotel. Whereas winter had already gripped Russia in a chokehold, New York was still in fall this late November day. The flight from London had been crowded, and the JFK airport terminal just as crowded. All thanks to that stupid American holiday of Thanksgiving.  

As the cab moved slowly through congested Manhattan traffic, the passenger frowned in disgust at all of the holiday window displays, the twinkling lights, and the shoppers. Oh the shoppers! There were so many of them, everywhere it seemed, carrying bags and hurrying from one store to another.  

Ridiculous! he thought. And utterly absurd.  

After what seemed like hours, the driver stopped in front of the hotel. He paid the man, checked in, retreated to his room and powered up his laptop. He had a town to familiarize himself with. And a family. The Hardy family to be specific.  

Surely he could get to Semyon through Mrs. Laura Hardy.  

***  

Frank Hardy rolled over on his back and stretched. A slightly off-key rendition of “Jingle Bells” was coming from the bathroom, and he laughed quietly. The Monday after Thanksgiving always brought the Christmas season with it in full force. It was the brothers’ favorite time of year, especially Joe.  

A smile stole across the young man’s face as thoughts of his first American Christmas came forward. Joe and his parents had made it a truly magical event.  

“You are going to start getting the Christmas decorations out aren’t you?” came Joe’s voice from the bathroom. 

“Yes!”  

The inside of the Hardy household was decorated room by room throughout the week, and that weekend would take them Christmas tree shopping and he and Joe would put the lights up on the house. Then the baking and gift-wrapping began.  

“And the Mortons’ party is on Friday night,” Joe reminded as he opened the door, a grin on his face. “I hope it snows!”  

“Just remember who has to shovel this year.”  

Joe growled at his brother then disappeared into his own room to finish getting ready for classes. Frank was recovering quickly, but shoveling snow was not something he could yet do. His weight was slowly climbing back to normal, but he still tired easily and slept quite a lot. Frank himself was very anxious to start back to classes in January.  

 

The week flew by and Friday night arrived almost before they were ready. Old and new friends gathered at the Morton farm. Joe had gotten his wish and a light dusting of snow covered everything. While the adults gathered inside, the group of college-aged friends tramped through the woods and fields, laughing, talking and singing, and occasionally tossing tiny snowballs at each other.  

Callie and Frank decided to climb up into the old tree house and watch the moon come up.  

“What happened between you and Joe?” Frank asked as they sat down.  

“Vanessa called me right after I got home and told me what had happened. I cried all night.” Callie nestled her head against Frank’s shoulder. “When he got back, I went to your house. Joe was in your room, crying. I just sat down next to him and told him I’d been an idiot, that I had no right to try and come between the two of you.”  

She paused a moment and sighed, her breath steaming out in a cloud of mist. “He told me about Stefan and what you were like the first time he saw you. That made me feel about an inch high thinking about how I treated him in high school.”  

“Aunt Gertrude once told me you were jealous of how close we are. Is that true?”  

“Yes. I was so very jealous. I always wanted an older brother, and the way Joe adores you made me realize exactly what I didn’t have.”  

Frank slipped his arm around her. “I’m very glad you’re working it out.”  

Callie looked up to find the man of her dreams looking down at her oh-so-tenderly. “Me too,” she whispered.  

***  

Stefan closed the silver box on the back wall of the Hardy home and smiled. The security system was top-notch, but not enough to keep him out. He’d successfully bypassed the system and if he was careful, they’d never know he’d been there.  

He too was skilled at picking locks and in less than fifteen seconds he slipped through the back door. Deciding to leave the lights off, he pulled a small flashlight from his pocket and moved slowly through the house. He was in the kitchen and he went through the kitchen into the dining room, noting the staircase that came out in the kitchen. Straight across the hall from the dining room was the living room. After making sure the drapes in that room were closed, he entered it.  

The first thing he noticed were the numerous framed pictures scattered throughout the room. Everything from school pictures to candid shots to family portraits. Most of them were Semyon and that Joe person with various other people. Stefan shook his head and snorted in disgust as he mounted the stairs.  

The first door on the right was a guest room, so he moved to the left side of the hall and chose the door farthest from the stairs. Jackpot! He smiled. Semyon’s room The desk lamp was on, so Stefan pocketed his flashlight and sat down on the bed. The room was done in shades of blue- Semyon’s favorite color. Another picture of he and Joe sat on the nightstand.  

Stefan’s eyes roamed around the room and came to rest on a small set of display shelves. The shelves held half a dozen small nutcrackers painted in the Russian style, a little trinket box, and two sets of matroishka dolls. The blue and yellow set had the same simple design as his own green and orange set. But the second set was far more elaborate and contained a multitude of colors. Stefan stood and walked over to the shelf, picking up one of the dolls.  

Holding the doll, this tangible connection to his mother, made him wonder briefly if Semyon missed her as much as he did. But the thought was just that- brief. He refused to let it stay in his mind. He can’t possibly miss her as much as I do.  

His attention was then drawn to a little stuffed bear sitting on the chair in the corner. Lifting the bear from its seat, he put it on the top shelf of the closet and moved on to the next room. Joe’s room obviously.  

“Don’t you know how to clean your room?” Stefan voiced his question out loud. Stefan himself couldn’t stand clutter of any kind. The room met Laura’s approval, but Stefan didn’t know that. Nothing in the room caught his interest so he finished looking around upstairs then returned downstairs.  

After a walk-through of the master bedroom he planted a listening device in the kitchen to accompany the one he had placed in Semyon’s room, and then slipped back out the way he’d come. He had plans to make.  

***  

Frank changed into his flannel pajamas and barely beat Joe to the bathroom to brush his teeth. It had been a wonderful evening, mostly spent with Callie. They had talked some, but mostly just enjoyed each other’s company. He was very glad to see Callie making a genuine effort to get along with Joe. The two had made a lot of progress, but still had work to do.  

He went back into his room and noticed the dolls had been moved on their shelf. The larger set was out of order. “That’s odd,” he said to himself as he put them back. “I don’t remember moving them.”  

“Talking to yourself is a bad sign, Frank,” Joe commented from the bathroom. “Especially when I can’t understand it.”  

Since returning from Russia, Frank’s usual under-his-breath talking to himself had morphed into Russian instead of English, earning him more than a few swipes from his brother when he forgot to switch back to English!  

Frank didn’t respond, he was too busy looking around his room. He had the distinct impression that someone had been in there.  

Joe poked his head through the door. “Everything okay?”  

Since Frank couldn’t quite put his finger on it, he nodded. “Yeah, just tired I guess.”  

“You don’t have to come to the game tomorrow.” Joe leaned against the doorframe and watched Frank as he got under the covers.  

A huge yawn popped the older boy’s jaw. “I just might take you up on that.”  

“G’night, Frank.” Joe turned off the overhead light as Frank settled into his pillow. Then he turned off the bathroom light and returned to his own room.  

 

Stefan smiled. “I’ll see you soon, little brother.”

The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The authors 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.