Laura Hardy sat on the porch of Frank and Callie’s home watching the two young women who’d captured her sons’ hearts. Now that she’d actually spoken to Frank and Joe on the phone and was sure they were unhurt, her worry had lessened considerably. Callie and Vanessa’s, however, hadn’t. Watching them, Laura was reminded of herself decades earlier when no matter how often she spoke to Fenton on the phone after a dangerous assignment, she never truly believed he was okay until she could see him…touch him…hold him.

Seated next to her, Callie appeared calm at first glance but Laura recognized the signs. The slight but constant tapping of her left foot; the way Callie twisted her wedding ring almost continuously, pausing only to check her watch every few minutes. It didn’t matter that she’d talked to Frank an hour earlier and he assured her he was fine, she wouldn’t believe it until she could see for herself.

Vanessa, so much like Joe, couldn’t sit – or stand – still for even a second. She’d paced a constant path across the porch since they’d come out here to wait. Walk to the end of the porch, lean on the railing, look at the road and frown…. Walk to the other end of the porch, look at her watch, sigh heavily and repeat. Over and over and over again. Deep inside Laura felt immense gratitude for these two girls and the depth of love they had for her sons.

It had seemed an eternity and Laura was sure Vanessa had worn a permanent groove in the porch when they finally saw a Bayport patrol car appear down the street, slow as it approached the house and then turn into the driveway. Her sons were safely back home once more.

The second the patrol car had turned into the driveway, Vanessa was already jogging down the porch steps. When the rear door opened she broke into a run. Joe had barely emerged from the car when she sprinted the last few feet and, with a squeal of delight, literally threw herself on him, almost knocking him over. Laura smiled as Joe caught Vanessa, wrapping one arm around her waist and momentarily used the other to steady himself against the car. Within seconds, the two were locked in a passionate kiss, the rest of the world having already faded away.

Sending up a silent prayer of thanks, Laura was content to watch the reunion between Frank, Callie, Joe and Vanessa. Standing on the porch she smiled, struck by the drastic personality differences between the two couples.

Seconds later Frank maneuvered his way out of the car and pushed past an oblivious Joe and Vanessa, shaking his head resignedly as he did so. He caught Laura’s eye and smiled, letting her know he was okay, then immediately sought out his wife. Standing on the top porch step, Callie was staring at Frank as if she weren’t quite sure he was real; Laura could see the tears on her cheeks and her heart ached for the young woman, knowing exactly how she felt. With a few long strides, Frank quickly crossed the distance between them. He stopped in front of Callie and reached out, tenderly wiping away the tears with his thumb.

Laura felt her own eyes start to burn when she heard Callie choke back a sob as Frank took her in his arms, murmuring softly to her. Her arms snaked around his neck, she rested her head on his shoulder and they stood silently, content to simply be in each other’s arms again.

Seeing Fenton and Sam approach, Laura slid past the young couple and walked down the few steps, meeting her husband on the lawn. “They’re okay?” she asked him, glancing at their sons.

“Joe has a cut on his neck; other than that they’re fine,” Fenton replied.

Laura pursed her lips and eyed him critically then looked at Sam. “Is he telling me the truth?” she demanded.

Sam grinned but quickly shook his head. “Uh-uh, you’re not dragging me into this.”

“Chicken,” Laura muttered, but couldn’t help but smile.

“That’s me,” Sam agreed easily, “yellow to the end.”

“I don’t know about that,” Joe said as he and Vanessa joined them.

Laura saw a look pass between Joe and Sam, one that left her both chilled and thinking she somehow owed Sam a huge debt of gratitude. Vowing to get the full story from Fenton later on she approached Joe, arms outstretched. Always demonstrative and affectionate, Joe immediately scooped her up in his arms and hugged her tightly.

“You’re okay?” Laura murmured in his ear.

“Yup, fine,” Joe assured her, loosening his grip and stepping back.

“Of course you are,” she said dryly, releasing him and crossing her arms. “That explains the blood on your shirt and the bandage on your neck.”

“I think that’s my cue to leave,” Sam said quickly, taking a few steps backwards towards the idling patrol car.

“Not so fast,” Frank stopped him, approaching the group with Callie close to his side. He took a moment to hug Laura and reassure her that he, too, was fine and then looked at Sam and Fenton. “How did you know where we were?”

“And exactly what was going on?” Joe added curiously.

“Callie, Vanessa, Phil and Biff came by the house right after you took off,” Fenton began, nodding at Joe, “and told me the whole story.”

“You said you couldn’t go to your dad or the police,” Vanessa shrugged at Joe, “you never said we couldn’t.”

“That’s my girl,” Joe grinned, planting a kiss on her cheek.

“Thanks, but it was all Phil’s idea.”

“That still doesn’t explain how you knew where we were this morning or what was going on,” Frank interrupted. “I mean you knew every detail, right down to the bom-” He stopped, but not quickly enough.

‘Bomb?!’ Laura’s eyebrows shot up and she watched, intrigued, as Joe shot his brother a withering look, tilting his head towards Callie, Vanessa and her. Immediately Frank snapped his mouth shut and his cheeks flushed red.

“That doesn’t explain how you knew about everything else,” Joe finished for him.

Fenton opened his mouth to speak but Sam held a hand up, stopping him before he could utter a word. Laura watched, curiosity piqued, as Sam silently pulled out his wallet, rummaged in one of the pockets and came up with a carefully folded five-dollar bill. “I think this is yours,” he said, eyes twinkling, as he offered the bill to Joe.

“Mine?” Joe looked at him, thoroughly confused.

Sam grinned, faked a stumble forward and threw an arm around Joe’s shoulders. “How ‘bout we go out for a little drinky, hmmm? We could…bond! Over a beer...” he said earnestly, patting Joe’s chest.

Joe gasped, his eyes growing huge. “That was YOU?!”

“Yup,” Sam replied. He plucked something from the underside of the collar on Joe’s shirt and then held up the tiny bug he’d planted on the youngest Hardy.

“I’ve been wearing that thing for two days?!” Joe asked, incredulous.

“Mm-hmm,” Fenton said then looked reprovingly at his son. “And I think we need to have a little talk about your language, young man…”

Joe was puzzled for a moment and then flushed a deep crimson, mumbling, “Well how was I supposed to know anyone was listening?”

Whoops of laughter filled the air as Laura looked towards the heavens… ‘Thank you…’

*****

The following evening found Frank seated at the dinner table at his parents’ house for Laura’s weekly ‘family dinner’. It was something she had insisted on for almost a year now and Frank had to admit he enjoyed it – spending time with his family outside of work, just because they genuinely wanted to be together.

“So did any of those bozos talk, Dad?” Joe asked, leaning back comfortably and resting an arm across the back of Vanessa’s chair. Fenton had spent most of the day at the police station watching and listening as Secret Service agents questioned the men who’d almost pulled off the perfect crime.

“Actually one of them did. Prior to this, he’d only had minor offenses. Faced with hard time in a Federal prison he was more than happy to turn on his buddies for a more lenient sentence.”

“So who were they?” Frank asked. “Anyone we put away before, figuring they could kill two birds with one stone? Steal millions of dollars and frame us for it at the same time?”

Fenton wiped his mouth with a napkin and placed it on the table next to his now empty plate. “Actually, no. They’d known the train would be coming through here – they had a contact in a low level job at the Federal Reserve – so they’ve been planning this for a while. They wanted a distraction, one that would throw suspicion on someone else and buy them time to get away. Once they’d chosen the location for the heist, they started doing research to find a ‘local’ that had skills they could use and that they could blackmail.” Fenton stopped and smiled at Laura who was refilling his coffee cup. He waited for her to fill her own and Frank’s and return to her seat, then continued. “They found out that you,” he tilted his cup towards Frank, “had extensive knowledge and experience with explosives. Their original plan was to kidnap you and Callie.”

“Callie?!” Joe exclaimed as Frank instinctively slipped a protective arm around his wife.

“What good would I have done them?” Callie asked, puzzled.

“A bargaining chip,” Fenton shrugged. “To force Frank to build and detonate the bomb. Then they’d planned to kill both of you and leave your bodies at the scene, hoping that by the time the authorities put all the pieces together, they’d be long gone.

“But while researching Frank, they stumbled on information about Joe. When they realized how close Frank and Joe were and that Joe also had certain ‘skills’ they could use, they changed the plan, knowing they could play the two of them off each other.”

“Nice guys,” Joe muttered darkly.

“One thing I found interesting.” Fenton leaned forward, elbows on the table. “They were telling the truth in that had everything gone according to plan, that second bomb never would have gone off. The guy who was with you,” he nodded at Joe, “was going to deactivate it once he got word that Frank had finished loading the money into the SUV. But Sam and I moved in before that happened, so it started automatically.” He looked at Joe, his voice heavy with regret. “Sorry, son.”

Joe shrugged. “Hey, it all worked out in the end. That’s what matters.”

“Well, they did want you both alive and unhurt to take the fall,” Fenton continued, looking at both his sons. “Since Joe really had gotten all the materials to build the bombs, and Frank had sabotaged the tracks forcing the train to stop and built and detonated the bomb on the train, every shred of evidence tied them directly to the theft.” He shrugged matter-of-factly. “Why would the authorities even bother looking for anyone else?”

Vanessa stared open-mouthed for a second then blurted out, “But what about the money?! They wouldn’t have had it on them!” she gestured to Joe and Frank. “How would they explain that?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time criminals had stolen money and hidden it. It would be assumed the boys stashed the money somewhere intending to retrieve it later.”

“When?!” she cried out angrily. “They’d be in prison!”

“Maybe,” Fenton agreed. He was trying not to smile and Frank assumed he was amused at Vanessa’s indignance on Joe’s behalf. “But even if they’d been convicted, they probably would only have gotten a few years. First offense, no one got hurt, there was little more than property damage and theft of money that was destined to be destroyed anyway,” he ticked off the points on his fingers. “Essentially a ‘victimless crime’. Some people would say it was worth a few years in prison if, when they were released, they had millions of dollars waiting for them.”

“Well that’s just ridiculous,” Callie said, looking more than a little peeved that someone would think that of her husband. “Who would possibly believe they’d commit a crime like that!”

“Actually, a lot of people would,” Frank said. “Fenton Hardy’s sons gone bad? It’d be sensational. People would eat it up. And by the time we could prove it wasn’t us – if we could prove it wasn’t us – the real criminals would be in some foreign country whose government was happy to look the other way for the right price and our reputations would be ruined. The perfect crime.”

A somber silence began to settle over the room as everyone thought about what could have happened, but Joe quickly broke it. “But we foiled them! Well…Dad and Sam foiled them,” he corrected with a grin. “And the good guys win – again – as it should be!”

Frank chuckled, curiously watching a look pass between his wife and Vanessa. “See?” Vanessa grinned at Callie as if they were sharing an inside joke. Twining her fingers through Joe’s she added cryptically, “Unstoppable.”

*****

Frank wandered aimlessly around the backyard as dusk fell. He could hear voices floating out from the house, but blocked them out, preferring instead to listen to the voices from the past…two little boys laughing, playing…loving. He hadn’t slept well the night before, plagued by dreams of his and Joe’s ordeal, always with a very different – and much grislier – ending. He shivered for a moment despite the warm summer evening, as a very vivid image flashed through his mind: the one where Sam hadn’t been able to get the bomb off Joe in time….

Frank shook his head almost violently to dislodge the image as his stomach lurched for a second. He stopped next to the giant oak tree, running his hand over the thick trunk. Looking up at the sturdy branches, he could almost see the tire swing Fenton had hung there when Frank and Joe were children. He and Joe used to spend hours pushing each other on the swing and playing in the tree fort that had long since been dismantled. They’d built it one summer, with Fenton, and it was one of the most vivid and cherished memories Frank had from his youth.

His gaze slowly swept over the yard, landing on the neat row of ‘privacy’ bushes, several yards past the tree. There used to be a tall wooden fence, pockmarked with a multitude of small holes, where the bushes now stood. Laughing softly to himself, he recalled the day Laura had found Joe, then a teenager, using the tire swing and the fence for target practice. For months, unbeknownst to their parents, Joe would stand at the opposite end of the yard with a B.B. gun and shoot through the tire, hitting a target he’d nail to the fence. As his skill improved, the target would get smaller and smaller. It had laid the foundation for the expert marksman Joe had become…until the day Laura came home early, found him shooting at the fence, and put an immediate end to his homemade target range.

As punishment, Joe had to take down the fence and plant the neat row of bushes in its place in addition to being grounded for a week. Frank would sometimes come out and sit in the tire swing, sipping cold lemonade and watching his younger brother labor under the hot summer sun, offering ‘helpful’ advice and throwing in an occasional ‘I told you this was going to happen.’ None of which Joe appreciated at the time, but they both laughed about now.

Leaning against the tree Frank rubbed his arms as the memory faded, replaced by a montage of bloody images from his dreams. He stared at one bush in particular, focusing and breathing deeply, willing the vision of his dead brother to disappear. It had been too close the day before…much too close….The gut-wrenching fear that Joe was dead, killed by Frank’s hand, began to re-emerge despite his efforts to will it away…

“Frank?”

Frank snapped his head to the left, grateful for the sudden distraction; grateful that it was Joe. “Yeah?”

“You okay?” Joe asked concerned. “You’ve been out here by yourself for a while now.”

“Just…remembering,” Frank replied without really answering, his gaze sweeping the yard again.

Joe’s expression changed as he too looked around the yard with a fond smile. “Anything in particular?”

Frank grinned and pointed towards the bushes. “The fence,” he said simply and Joe immediately groaned. “Hey, I told you you’d get caught sooner or later,” Frank laughed.

“Yeah, well you enjoyed it just a little too much when I finally did!” Joe huffed. “Remember when you fell out of the tree?” he asked, reaching out and touching the rough bark.

Frank nodded, gazing up through the thick branches.

“And then I fell out the next day,” Joe continued.

“That’s some selective memory you’ve got there,” Frank arched an eyebrow.

“What? I did!” Joe exclaimed.

“No, I fell…you jumped!”

Joe reddened slightly. “Yeah, I guess I did. But it was all your fault,” he finished poking a finger at Frank.

“What?!” Frank cried out. “You purposely jumped out of the tree – all by yourself! How is that my fault?”

“Simple,” Joe replied. He shrugged and leaned against the tree, smiling. “That was the summer my big brother hero worship was on steroids. I wanted to do everything you did. Everything! You fell out of the tree…I fell out of the tree.”

“You jumped!” Frank repeated now laughing out loud.

“Semantics,” Joe waved his hand dismissively. “Bottom line, you had a sprained wrist so I wanted one too.”

“Oops,” Frank smiled. “I think you over achieved.”

“You’re telling me,” Joe muttered, then shrugged good-naturedly. “Hey, at least I didn’t get in trouble for it.”

“I guess Mom and Dad thought six stitches in your head, a concussion and a night in the hospital was punishment enough!”

“And Mom wouldn’t let me do anything but sit on the sidelines and watch you and the guys play for over a week!” Joe complained, though he smiled fondly as he did so.

“You never jumped out of a tree again,” Frank pointed out, jabbing Joe in the side with his elbow.

“Yeah, I learned my lesson that time.” The two brothers fell silent as they both stared at the place that held so many happy memories for them. “We had a really great childhood, didn’t we?” Joe finally said, softly.

“Yeah,” Frank replied smiling. The image of two small boys laughing and playing appeared for a moment, wavered slightly and then faded away. “We did…”

“Well,” Joe said, pushing himself away from the tree and taking a few steps towards the house. “Dessert is just about ready. That’s why I came out here. I was sent to retrieve you so we better get back inside before they send out a search party.” He was walking backwards now and even in the dim light of twilight, Frank could see the mischief dancing in his eyes. “Because, I mean really…we disappeared from a simple scavenger hunt! Who else besides us could do that?” Joe laughed as he turned and jogged up the steps of the deck and disappeared into the house.

Frank smiled feeling immensely grateful, knowing things could have turned out so, so much worse. ‘No one, little brother…no one but us,’ he thought. Laughter floated out of the open windows and screen door and Frank quickened his pace, knowing there was no place he’d rather be than with the people who meant more to him than anything in the world – his family.

The End

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Disclaimer

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.