Monday, September 25, 2000 (12:30 am)

       Frank sprang to his feet, and crawled out from under whomever had fallen on top of him.  He sniffed and smelled the scent of sweat mingled with a slight flowery smell.  He reached ahead of him and came into contact with cloth, probably the back of a shirt. Frank held his cane carefully in one hand, ready to use it if he needed to.  He reached out in front of him again, lashed out and heard a startled scream when he came into contact with something, this time flesh.  The scream confirmed what he thought earlier; this person was a girl.  He reached out and grabbed the arm he had hit earlier and dragged her back to her feet again.

       “Who is it?” he demanded, making no attempt to sound friendly.  Inside he was shaking again.  He hated being blind.  There was no getting around that simple fact.  He hated it.  He might have to cope with it.  He might have to accept it, but he would never like it. 

       “A-Anna,” Anna Phillips sounded very shaky and half in tears.  Frank cursed silently and shook his head as he released her arm.  He felt his way back to the couch he had been sleeping on without offering Anna a seat.  She sounded like she was crying but Frank couldn’t find it in himself to feel very sorry for her.

       Anna sniffled a few times, very loudly, over-playing her need for sympathy and attention for her bruised ego.  Frank sighed; being friendly to Anna Phillips at whatever time it was at night was not in his make-up right now.  He knew he was being selfish, knew that he felt whatever problems she had could not even come close to Frank’s own, but he couldn’t seem to help himself there either.  He wanted to push her out the front door and tell her to come back when she grew up.

       “So what are you doing here?” he asked when he thought he could be civil.  He heard footsteps from above and knew that Anna’s scream had woken half, if not all, of the other people in the house.  He heard low murmurs as well and his father’s distinctive voice talking to someone upstairs.

       “I…” Anna started and let out a sob before she started again.  “Th-those m-men c-came after me ag-gain.  I-in my r-room.  They s-said I didn’t do well en-nough.  Th-they…”

       Her voice trailed off and she started to cry again.  Frank managed to keep from rolling his eyes and worked up an ounce of sympathy for her.  She might be telling the truth after all; he doubted it, but she might.  She might have information on the men who attacked or poisoned Joe.  If she could provide that information, he could be sympathetic.  He worked his way forward, using his cane to find obstacles like the coffee table in front of the couch.  He pulled her along with him, sitting her down in what he hoped was the chair beside the couch.  He sat down on the couch and pulled his blanket back over his bare legs.  It was darned cold outside.  Anna still sounded as though she was crying.  She touched Frank’s hand and held tightly to it.  Frank sighed but resisted the urge to pull his hand free. 

       “Go ahead,” Frank encouraged her.  She should just get the whole tale out, whether it was true or not.  She held his hand more tightly, as if trying to find courage to say what she had to say next. 

       “Th-they s-said they were g-going to m-mess up m-my f-face,” Anna whispered, as though she was barely able to speak.  “S-said they h-had to s-send a cl-clear message.  A c-clear message to J-Joe and t-to you.  I…”

       Her voice trailed off as footsteps came down the stairs, by the sound of them, more than one pair.  Frank didn’t bother to turn; whoever it was would let him know.  He felt someone slid onto the couch beside him and knew it was Samantha when she kissed his cheek and murmured something to him in a sleepy voice.  He smiled at her and touched her cheek.  She snuggled up close to him and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.  He pulled his other hand free of Anna’s.

       “So, young lady,” Frank heard his father say in a surprisingly civil voice.  “Would you like to tell me what brings you out so late at night?”

       Frank’s father sounded like he was standing right over Anna by the proximity of his voice to where the chair sat.  He heard Mandy whisper in their father’s ear, it sounded like Anna’s name.  His father was using his best ‘interrogate the interloper and make them surrender’ voice.  Frank settled back in his chair, more than happy to allow his father to take over the ‘interrogation.’

       “I-I was just t-telling F-Frank,” Anna stammered.  “I w-was attacked in m-my r-room tonight.”

       Frank heard a derisive tone then and knew that had come from Vanessa who sounded like she stood near the television at the other end of the room.  Frank held back a smile; he wasn’t going to antagonize his brother’s girlfriend but she was not hiding her impatience at all, even from him.  He looked back in the direction of where Anna sat; she was being very quiet all of a sudden.  Too much attention?

       “And who attacked you?” Fenton Hardy asked, prompting Anna to continue when she hadn’t said anything for almost a minute.  Frank leaned his head on top of Samantha’s, his eyes half-closing.  He was sleepy too.

       “It was… it was the ones from earlier…” Anna whispered.  “They came into my room and th-threatened to c-cut me… s-said they w-wanted to send a clear m-message to… to Frank and Joe… that if they h-hurt me, Frank and J-Joe would never bother them again.”

       Frank did not need to see his father’s face to know that his father was exceptionally dubious about what Anna said.  All his father said was ‘hmm,’ a noncommittal sort of sound that Frank recognized all too well.

       “And why, exactly, are these boys threatening you if they want Frank and Joe to leave them alone?  Wouldn’t it make more sense for them to go after Vanessa or Samantha?  Or Mandy?”

       There was no answer at first but finally, Anna answered, her voice slightly defiant, “They think Joe is my boyfriend.”

       “Ah,” Fenton said and Frank fought to hide a smile.  He knew that sound well too.  “And what would be the reason that they think you are Joe’s girlfriend, Miss Phillips?  Have you given them some reason to think that you might be dating him?”

       “No!” Anna protested.  “I’ve only spoken to him, you know, been a friend.  I know he has a girlfriend!  They obviously must have seen us together sometime and assumed or maybe assumed when he rescued me from them the first time.  I don’t know why they think I’m Joe’s girlfriend, I just know that they do!”

       “And so they broke into your room and tried to hurt you,” Fenton managed to sound scornful and doubtful all at once.  “And…? What then?  How is it you’re here?  How did you get away without being hurt?”

       “I kicked one of them,” Anna said, fiercely.  “I kicked one and then I just ran and I kept running.  I didn’t know where else to go.  I thought… I thought if I came here, I’d be safe here.  I don’t know why, it was just the only place I could think of.”

       Vanessa made another derisive sound and Samantha made an odd noise in Frank’s ear.  He knew that none of his friends believed her, not a single one of them.  Coming all the way out here to get away from her mysterious attackers? 

       “So,” Fenton continued.  “You got away but instead of finding a friend on-campus that would put you up for the night, you ran nearly four miles, in the dark, to this house and managed to stay out of the grasps of your would-be attackers.”

       “I… I didn’t think of that,” Anna sounded rushed and Frank wished he could see her face.  He’d have to ask Sam or Mandy later what she looked like.  She sounded like her hair should be standing on end on her head.  “I just wanted to be safe.  I know Frank and Joe are detectives, that you’re a detective.  I thought… I thought I would be safe here.  Why are you treating me like this?  They attacked me because of your sons, not because of anything I ever did!”

      

       Mandy blinked at that.  Anna looked frazzled, like someone had stuck her finger in a light socket.  Mandy still wore the clothing she had worn to bed, a pair of shorts and a t-shirt that had a picture of Leonardo DiCaprio on the front.  Mandy found herself playing with Connor’s hair as her father interrogated Anna.  Samantha was already half-asleep on Frank’s shoulder.  Vanessa looked ready to cross the room and rip Anna’s hair out, not that Mandy could blame her.  Mandy was ready to do it herself.

       Mandy looked up at her father when he straightened and crossed the room to the window that looked out onto Elm Street.  He turned again and looked back at Anna, his expression thoughtful.  He looked serious, almost grim, as if Anna had committed murder or worse.

       “What I know is that not parts of your story add-up, Miss Phillips,” Fenton said.  “I have been a detective for almost thirty years.  I listen to not only what you say but also what you’re not saying.  For instance, why did these men attack you the first time?  For instance, how did you happen to know where Joe and Frank live?  These little things make me a suspicious man, Miss Phillips.”

       Frank had no idea what happened next, though Samantha suddenly sat up and pulled her hand free from his.  He heard Anna gasp.

       “I came here because I thought you would help me!” Anna protested.  “I didn’t come here to get attacked again!  I’m sorry I ever bothered you!”

       Frank heard her move across the floor and he heard the front door open again. 

       “Anna, wait,” Mandy said to her.  “Come sit back down.  If you do want to help then you’re going to have to answer my dad’s questions and convince him.  That’s how his mind works.”

       “Never mind!” Anna said in a hostile voice.  “I know I shouldn’t have come here.  I thought I should warn you that those people mean business.  If they can break into my room, they can find you anywhere, they could even go after Joe in the hospital.  Let go of me, Mandy.”

       “I’ll drive you back, Anna,” Connor said with a yawn.  “Let me get my jeans and my jacket.”

       Frank heard him run up the stairs and he heard the door open again.  Anna grumbled under her breath, angry and upset.  She sure seemed to go from one extreme to another, going from mousy and shy to angry and defiant.  Connor bounded down the stairs again, keys jingling as he went to the door and took Anna back to her dorm.

       “That girl,” Fenton Hardy said after they heard Connor’s Blazer start and after he drove away.  “Is seriously disturbed.”

       “Oh, I don’t know, Daddy,” Mandy said to their father.  “She’s lonely and I think she tries too hard to get attention but she’s harmless.  She’s usually not quite so obvious, though.  I think she does have a crush on Joe and I know it drives you buggy, Van, but you have to admit it’s kind of funny how hard she tries.”

       “If she’s going to this extent to get a little attention, she’s deranged,” Fenton Hardy said.  “I think you should all try to just steer clear of her, if you can.  If she’s willing to disrupt a person’s sleep for attention, she may get even more desperate later.”

       “You really think she’s dangerous?” Frank asked his father.  He sort of thought of Anna as harmless, the sort of girl who cried when she saw injured birds or something.  “I mean, she’s Anna.  She’s one of those walking disasters you hear about but I never thought of her as someone to be afraid of.”

       “It’s just a bit of advice, son,” his father told him.  “I’m going back to bed.”

       “Me too,” Samantha said sleepily.   She kissed Frank on the cheek before she slid off of the couch.  “Good night, Frank, Mandy, Mr. Hardy.”

 

       “Ready to go?” Mandy asked Frank as she came into Frank’s class to walk him back to his dorm.  Early morning on Monday was not Mandy’s favorite time to be showing her face in any history class but she’d volunteered.  She looked up at the front of the room nervously as she saw Mister Peterman, one of the two World History professors at BU.   

       “I’m ready,” Frank slid out of his seat and easily picked up his book back that rested on the desk in front of him.  Mandy put Frank’s hand on her arm; she didn’t really like that shoulder method that Joe used most of the time.  Frank followed along behind her and she took care to get him past a couple of desks near the front of the room that had been moved out of the regular row.

       Mandy managed to get out without having to talk to Doctor Peterman. She was never sure why he made her a little uneasy.  She rather liked history in high school, at least when she wasn’t being forced to remember trivial detail about every war the United States ever fought against anyone.  She slipped them past the front and Mandy guided Frank toward the door that was closest to the path that would lead to Tauhausen. 

       “When did Connor get back last night?” Mandy asked Frank.  “I fell asleep.”

       “I don’t know, actually,” Frank said.  “He said hi when he came in but I didn’t ask him the time.  I was too sleepy myself.  He didn’t take much time bringing her back, though, because I don’t think he was gone that long.”

       “Do you have any more ideas on the case?” Mandy asked.  She had been thinking on them herself.  Mandy didn’t always have her brothers’ voracious appetite when it came to solving cases but she was always willing to lend a hand when they needed it.  She was much more interested in her art and in her archery than she was in the seemingly constant danger that surrounded a case either Frank or Joe was involved in.

       “I have this feeling…” Frank said slowly and Mandy gave him a curious glance.  He brow was creased slightly as he thought and his dark brown eyes, while seeing past, rather than at, Mandy, also held that same sort of curious light they always held when he had an idea about something.  “Well, I don’t know how good it is or maybe I’m wanting to see Doctor Rich behind every bush but, well… I want to see if there is any connection between Doctor Rich and this guy, this Pankovic.”
       “Why Doctor Rich?” Mandy asked.  “He’s out of the country, Con told us that yesterday.  I don’t think he could get back into the country without being arrested at the airport or at the dock if he takes a boat over.”

       “Well, it started off when I found out that the cure they used on Joe yesterday was something that Doctor Rich discovered,” Frank said.  “And that made me wonder, like the white powder he used to blind me, if he might have developed the poison that was used on Joe.  The doctor told me yesterday that it wasn’t like any poison he’s ever seen before and he knows it’s more chemical in nature than botanical.”

       “I remember that from something dad said when we were younger,” Mandy said.  “That normally people who developed poisons, whether it was accidental or on purpose, almost always develop an antidote, if an antidote is possible.”

       “Right,” Frank said.  “That’s what got me thinking.  That’s why I want to try to tie Pankovic to him.”

       “We’ll have Van run a search tonight,” Mandy suggested.  “Or maybe we could just ask Con to look for us.  He’s been fairly cooperative lately, so he might just look this up for us himself.  He knows what’s been happening and he’d love to get his hands on the man who poisoned Joe.”

       Frank frowned and Mandy wondered what her brother was thinking.  They made it past a tricky section of the sidewalk without either of them falling on their face while Frank continued to think. 

       “Oh, hey, Frank, hi, Mandy,” Mandy smiled up at Michael Richards and Jase Aleman.  Jase was the one who had spoken to them. 

       “How’s Joe?” Michael asked.  “Is he any better?”

       “He’ll be fine,” Mandy said without really answering Michael’s question.  “We had another scare yesterday but, really, he’s all right now.  I think he’s getting out of the hospital in a couple of days.  He’ll have to go home after that to rest for a couple more days.”

       “You know, we take Speech & Communication together,” Jase said, slowly.  “Would he want me to let him know what reading and assignments we have?  I’d be willing to bring any work in he gets done, if you think that’ll help.”

       “I’m sure it would,” Mandy said.  Her brother still didn’t like studying but he’d applied himself since coming to college and hated getting behind on assignments, if only because it meant more work later.  “If you could just write the assignments down and get it to me, I’ll pass them along to Joe.”

       “No problem!” Jase said with a grin.  “Anything to help.  How about I leave them in the office at Tauhausen, you can just ask for them there whenever you happen by and neither of us have to make an extra trip.”

       “Just give them to me,” Frank suggested. 

       “Even better,” Jase exclaimed.  “Makes it easier on all of us, don’t you think?”

       “Oh, man, we’d better get trotting, Jase,” Michael warned his friend.  “We’re running late.  See you both later!”

       Mandy smiled and waved as they walked away, then she continued her walk back to Frank’s dorm.

 

       Waking slowly and taking a little time to stretch out a kink in one shoulder, Joe slowly opened his eyes to stare over at the sunlight streaming through the curtain in his room.  His blue eyes fastened on the stream of light that provided illumination on that side of his room; the light from the hallway provided more than enough light on his side of the room but was not as fascinating as the small bits of flying dust floating in the bit of sunlight.  He blinked a few times to allow his eyes to adjust and then shifted positions again so that he lay more on his back rather than his side.  The heart monitor beside the bed was still attached to his chest and it beeped a slow, steady tone, telling him that while the rest of him felt like silly-putty, his heart was working along the way it should.

       Joe, if he was completely honest with himself, had no idea what he was doing in the hospital.  He thought he remembered something about the party and he thought he remembered feeling dizzy and ill but he couldn’t seem to remember more than that.  He frowned as he tried to force more memories to the surface of his mind.  He remembered seeing his mother and father at odd moments of fleeting consciousness and Frank and Mandy and Vanessa too.  He had no idea, still, what it all meant.  What had happened to him?  He felt weak, still, and knew if he tried to stand he would probably fall flat on his face.  An IV was attached to his left arm and he studied it, curiously.  It looked to be nutrition-in-a-bag, as he and his brother liked to call IV nutrients. 

       “Oh, good, you’re awake,” the light in the doorway faded when a nurse poked her head into the room and saw him staring up at the ceiling.  “Let me go get the Doctor, he wanted to look at you as soon as you woke up.”

       She disappeared again and Joe continued his ruminations and continued trying to put together his memory.  He was in the hospital.  He was attached to a heart monitor and an IV bag.  He had obviously been here for at least a day, maybe longer, because his memories since coming here were filled with fleeting images of seeing people but not all together.  He must have been half unconscious anytime he woke up enough to notice someone in his room.

       Doctor Carlisle came into his room a moment later and pulled a chair up beside Joe’s bed. 

       “Good to see you with us again, Joe,” the doctor told him in a friendly voice.  “You gave us all a bit of a scare, you know.”

       “What happened?” Joe asked him.  His voice sounded husky, like he hadn’t used it in awhile.  “Was I sick or something?”

       “Or something,” the doctor said.  “You were poisoned, Joe.  The poison was deadly, one of the worst I’ve seen.  The only thing that saved you was an antidote I knew about that was supposed to work on such things.  You’re going to find that you are considerably weakened for a while.  That’s one reason we still have you attached to the heart monitor.  Your heart is holding steady at 60 beats a minute but if it gets up near a hundred or lower than 50, we’re going to want to take a further look at you.”

       Joe looked up at him in disbelief.  Poison?  He couldn’t believe it.  Someone had tried to poison him?

       The doctor busied himself with going over Joe’s chart and reading out the latest vital signs taken by the nurses.  Joe still couldn’t believe that he had been poisoned.

       “We’re going to keep you here for a couple more days,” the doctor told him.  “I want you to have a little more strength back before we send you home.  You won’t be going back to school until next Monday, at the earliest!  We’ve been feeding you IV nutrients but I want you to try to eat a light meal later and I want you to sleep as much as you can.”

       “All right,” Joe said, slowly.  “If that’s what you want.”

       “It is,” Doctor Carlisle smiled at him.  “Why don’t you go ahead and get some sleep now.”

       “All right,” Joe nodded in agreement.  He settled back and closed his eyes but doubted that he would be getting to sleep anytime soon.  He didn’t really feel sleepy right now.  He was too concerned about the whole idea of being poisoned to rest. 

       Still, a few minutes later, he found his eyes getting droopy and very shortly after that, he was sound asleep again.

 

       Joe woke partially later, when he thought he heard someone in his room.  It was much later than he thought, though.  As he tried to blink the sleep out of his eyes, he saw that his sunbeam from earlier was gone and had been replaced by semi-darkness.  He realized that the shade had been pulled on his window and the curtain closed but he could still see that it was somewhat light outside. The door to his room was closed, too and he frowned at that, trying to remember what was wrong with it.

       He turned a moment later when he sensed someone touching his arm but saw a nurse holding a syringe, her silhouette displayed against the backdrop of the shaded window.  He frowned quizzically, sensing that there was something wrong with this whole thing, but he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around what it might be.

       A few minutes later he suddenly figured it out.  If someone was giving him a shot or putting medication in his IV, why were they trying to do it in the dark?  They should have turned on the light!  He reached out to grab the nurse or whoever it was but his arm wouldn’t move.  It felt like lead and about a hundred pounds heavier than it should have been.

       Suddenly, he started to gasp as he felt a massive pain in his heart and he convulsed, heavily.  He thought he heard someone whisper to him, and he cried out in agony as his heart monitor began to beep wildly.

       As darkness passed over him and he heard someone shout out Code Blue, he knew that the nurse had mentioned something about a father… and then he fell into the darkness that wanted him for its own.

The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. I've only borrowed them to play with for a while but I promise to return them whenever I've finished with them.  (I make no promises as to condition, that's entirely up to them).  I promise, I'm only writing for fun and I'm not making a single dime off of this (unless you count personal fulfillment).