I don't own the Hardys or their friends but I do own the others.

In The Grip Of Grace

Chapter 1

Frank Hardy lay on his bed, hopelessness rising and falling with every breath he took. He listened as his aunt called him for lunch, but he didn't care. He had no interest in lunch or anything else this world had to offer. His life had become empty the second his baby brother had died two months ago. Two months ago his life wasn't the greatest, what with his father, Fenton Hardy, the world famous private investigator turning out to be a psychopath. For some reason his dad had gone off the deep end and had made it his mission to make his life a living hell. At first it was little things, and he would get beaten for no apparent reason. Then his grades at school suffered from that and his dad physically punished him as he saw fit. Then he had started molesting him. That one had thrown him, for he didn't understand where that had come from at all. He had started taking amphetamines to keep himself going to pass his exams so his father would leave him alone. He'd contemplated on running away, but the thought of leaving Joe was too much to even think about. Joe. The mere thought of his name seared pain in his heart as he thought about his beloved baby brother. It was so intense at times he actually considered suicide. He kept reliving that last moment of Joe's life over and over in his mind like a broken record.

"Hello, son," a menacing voice reverberated through Frank's hospital room.

A startled yell came from Frank's lips. How the …?

"We didn't get to finish what we started." The man who was walking towards him with blood all over himself, laughed evilly.

Just then Joe came bouncing in with news of Phil, but came to an abrupt halt when he seen who was there.

"Dad!"

Frank had seen his dad bring his hand up with a gun in it and terror seized his heart as he realized what was about to happen.

"Joe!"

He barely registered his dad mumbling something and swiftly running out the door. He'd jumped out of the hospital bed and ran over to his brother and took his hand. He saw the wound in the side of his head. There was blood everywhere. He'd never been so frightened in his life. Not even his dad had made him feel as scared as losing the one person that meant the most to him in the world. Time stood still for what seemed like hours, but all too soon medics and doctors rushed in to take his brother away from him and he'd not even gotten to say good-bye. In a split second Joe was gone and his life was over, never to be the same again.

Frank rolled over onto his side, suddenly feeling a lot older than his nineteen years. His Aunt Gertrude, a strong and strict, matronly woman, and also his dad's older sister, by ten years, had silently come up the stairs and was now brushing the dark brown strands of hair off his forehead. Even though she was strict, she was very fond of her nephews. Frank's tear-stained cheeks told her that he had yet again been thinking of his brother.

She looked over at a framed photo of a young sun-bleached blond haired boy with a beautiful smile and deep sapphire blue eyes that was sitting on Frank's bedside table. The secret she carried about his brother was one she adamantly believed was the right choice to be made at the time. She sadly shook her head. She thought about telling Frank everything so many times, but… no, it was best this way. There would be nothing but burdens to bare if the truth were known. As stubborn and strong willed as she could be, she just couldn't see how to bring her nephew out of this deep depression. She barely got him to eat, and getting him out of the house was next to impossible. The only times he would go out was if she physically couldn't go anywhere. But she wanted him to get his life back, finish with his studies at Bayport Community College, and have some resemblance of a normal life. She knew her brother was out there but he hadn't made contact with them in the last couple of months. It was frightening to think he could show up at any moment to start reeking havoc again. But she didn't know what else to do. There had been a history of insanity in their family from their father's side, but the only one it affected had been Fenton. He had shown signs of it when he was a little child, hurting and killing little animals for the fun of it. But by the time he had grown up and on his own Gertrude thought he'd out grown it. And didn't think anything of it…till now. But she wouldn't let that stop her from helping her nephew back from this dark place she knew he was in. She wanted to get Frank out of the house before his dad showed up so he'd be safe. She didn't want him ending up like his mother and brother. Victims of circumstance.

She looked back down at Frank and seen he hadn't moved.

"Frank, you need to get out of this bed and come down and eat something."

"I don't want anything." he said, as he turned back over.

"Frank, starving yourself to death is not the answer."

Frank whipped his head around so fast that it startled his aunt, and she backed up a step.

"The answer? To what? If I died today it would only serve to bring me to Joe that much faster."

"Franklin Hardy! You can't be serious. You have your whole life ahead of you and you need to get out there and live it."

"Why? Joe's not here. He's not alive." Frank cried.

"I know you miss him hon. We both do…"

"No!" Frank interrupted. "It's not the same. He was apart of me. He's gone now and that part of me is gone too."

He looked seriously at his aunt with such intensity that it made her feel inferior.

Gertrude just shook her head resignedly and turned around and walked out, clearly frustrated. She stopped at the doorway putting her hand on the doorframe.

"I'll be gone for the weekend again. I'll be back Sunday night. Don't forget to put the alarm system on. And for heaven's sake try to eat something. I've made up meals for the next two days for you in the freezer. All you have to do is heat them up." she waited for a response and when she got none, she shook her head again and went down stairs.

An hour later the phone rang, but by the time Frank went out into the hall to answer it, it had stopped ringing. He looked at the number on the caller ID and didn't recognize it. He looked at the name and found it to be a business number. The Stratford Clinic. He frowned at the name. Why would some place like that be calling here? Then he thought about his dad. Maybe he'd gotten help after all. He was about to call the number back when he heard a knock on the front door. He slowly made his way down the stairs, wondering why he was even bothering. He didn't care who it was, much less what they wanted. Most of his friends had moved away to Montana, something about a new life - a new start…he couldn't remember, and at the time he just didn't care.

He opened the door to find Tony Prito standing there. He'd been the only one that hadn't left with the rest of their friends because he wanted to help his dad finish up the season working at their restaurant, Prito's Pizzaria.

"Hey, Frank. How you doin'?

Frank just shrugged his shoulders.

"Hey, Tony."

"Can I come in?" Tony asked, when Frank hadn't made a move to offer him to enter the house.

Frank hesitated a second before shrugging again and let the door swing open wider.

"What do you want?"

Tony entered the house and flashes of Joe laughing, smiling, being afraid and joking came flooding back to his mind. He swallowed the lump in his throat and couldn't imagine the hell Frank had to be going through. He cleared his throat before answering, trying to dissipate the gloom in his own heart.

"I thought I'd stop by and let you know that I'll be leaving this weekend to go to Montana with the rest of the gang." he paused for a second before continuing. "And also to offer you to come with me."

"Did my aunt send you here?" Frank asked suspiciously.

"No, Frank. Just asking for a driving partner so I wouldn't have to go alone." Tony lied. Secretly he did have an ulterior motive. He thought maybe a move would be just the thing to get Frank back in the world of the living. Not to mention that his friends all missed him.

Frank started to answer, but then the phone rang again. He went over and picked up the receiver and looked at the caller ID. Again it was the Stratford Clinic. It was an out of state number. He pushed the talk button.

"Hello, this is the Hardy residence."

"May I speak with Gertrude Hardy please?" a cheerful female voice asked.

"This is her nephew, Frank. Can I help you?" he was now thoroughly intrigued how his aunt had anything to do with a clinic out of state. Was there something wrong with her? Was this where she was going every weekend?

" I would like to leave her a message if I may."

"She isn't in and won't be back till Sunday evening. What's the message?"

"Oh dear, well, that won't be necessary. She must have already left to come here. Sorry to have taken up your time…"

"Why would my aunt go there? Is there something wrong? What kind of a clinic is this? Is she alright?"

"Sir, I don't have the authority to answer those questions. I'll just talk to her when she gets here."

"But I have the right to know what's going on." By this time Frank was getting frustrated.

"Sir, you have every right to know but it is not my place to tell you."

"Then who's is it? What's this about?"

"It's about the person who she admitted here, but I really don't have any authority…"

"Wait! What person?" Frank asked, perplexed.

Before he could ask any more questions the female voice had said her good-byes and hung up. Frank pulled the phone back and looked at it as if it would give him his answers.

"Who was that?" asked Tony.

Frank turned slightly and looked at Tony, then back at the phone.

"Uh… I'm not sure. They wouldn't tell me." he answered as he hung up the receiver. "But I plan on finding out." he said as he headed for his dad's office to look up the clinic on line.. Tony followed after him and watched with a certain awe in the way Frank's detective instincts took over with out him even knowing about it.

Frank sat down in the chair behind the desk and booted up the computer. When it was ready he logged into the clinic's website and both he and Tony looked at the screen dumbfounded. The screen pulled up a webpage called The Stratford Clinic. It was a fairly new building that was set back in the outskirts of a town in southern Michigan. It was mostly white with marbled pillars out front and green sculptured shrubbery around the building with a manicured lawn and a circular drive with a beautiful view of the wooded forest behind. It would have seemed like a nice place except that there were bars on all the windows on both levels. The paragraph under the picture had a description of the place and how the setting was in the best quiet atmosphere for their residents. What captured Frank's attention most was that it was a place for mentally handicapped people, and the rehabilitation programs had an astounding 56 success rate.

Tony looked down at Frank, who was still sitting in the chair. He could tell Frank's mind was going at an alarming speed trying to figure out the meaning behind all this.

"What do you think this means?" Tony asked him.

Frank's heart was pounding in his ears. Something was telling him that he had to get there, and fast. "I have to go." he said, as he stood up.

"Wait. Can I come with you?"

Frank looked at his friend for a moment. "Thought you were leaving this weekend."

"Well, you know me, when the Hardy's are into a good mystery…." He immediately regretted his words when he saw Frank's face fall somewhat. "Oh, Frank, I'm sorry. That was insensitive of me."

"Well, if you're going, get your sorry ass out the door." he said with a smirk. "Let me get my coat, it might be chillier up there."

Frank took the stairs to his room two at a time. He knew something was up but he didn't know what. He had a feeling it had to do with his father. He didn't know why. Nor could he explain it. But what he was about to find out would change his life again.