The day Hallie arrives at Crabapple Farm, the entire household begins a gradual descent into chaos. Of course, all of the Beldens do their best to accommodate their houseguest, including inviting her to BWG activities. However, Trixie's usually good-natured, amiable demeanor seems to have evaporated, and Mart often notices her watching with a jealous stare as Hallie chats with the other Bob-Whites.
But if Mart is to be completely honest, Trixie isn't the only one who's jealous. As much as he tries to ignore it, he can't help but feel irritated at the way Hallie looks at the Dan, how she always tries to sit near him or otherwise engage him. It's ridiculous, Mart knows, that he wants Hallie to just leave Dan alone, but he can guess as to why he feels annoyed.
Dan is his best friend, but his importance as a figure in Mart's life does not conclude there. When the two of them met, Dan was the first person in quite some time to view Mart as an individual, not merely as an extension of his family or a companion of his siblings. In short, his friendship with Dan restored Mart's sense of self, granted recognition to Mart's independence. Truly, due to these aspects regarding singularity, their bond was unique, Mart reasoned. Their friendship was founded on the basis of identity and truth of self and chock full of intellectualism. Thus, it could be soundly compared to the brotherhood of Percy Bysshe Shelley and Lord Byron, or the companionship between Ralph Waldo Emerson and Henry David Thoreau.
His own jealousy is natural, Mart concludes, but it should be put aside to allow Dan happiness with Hallie, if that is, in fact, how events come to pass.
But if there is any romance between Dan and Hallie, it's short-lived. Completely without warning, Dan vanishes, the only clue left behind a knotted handkerchief containing Julianna's wedding ring.
With the girls occupied with wedding preparations and trying to ensure their own troubles don't dampen Julianna and Hans's joy, the BWG boys join Regan, Tom, and Mr. Maypenny for three days of searching for Dan through the preserve. They find nothing to indicate where Dan has gone, no trace of him whatsoever. The complete lack of any type of even hint renders the situation eerie to Mart, almost as if Dan never existed in the first place.
"Where do you think he's gone?" Mart asks Jim as they unsaddle their horses after the final night of searching.
Jim rubs his forehead wearily. "I don't know. But even though Dan stole Julianna's ring, I think he had a good reason for it. I trust Dan— I don't think he would have gone anywhere if he didn't think it best for everyone involved."
Though Jim's faith in Dan heartens him, there's a knot of anxiety in Mart's chest that tightens with each passing day Dan isn't found. Sometimes people go missing, teenagers especially, and no one ever finds them again. They simply become a figure in posters and old photographs, with the only true recognition perhaps an occasional spotlight during Unsolved Mysteries . Is that going to be the ultimate outcome for Dan, to exist only as a memory and an eternal question?
Instantly after Dan's disappearance, the summer days become suddenly cloaked in a smothering blanket of heat and humidity. Despite the moisture-filled air, the days lengthened into weeks, the sweltering climate wearing on with no respite or rain. The heatwave inspires looming fear that when storms finally do arrive, it will be on the day of the wedding. Thus, there's a scramble to finalize weather contingency plans as the likelihood for their enaction increases, creating even further tasks to be tackled prior to the wedding.
Moods in the Belden house deteriorate in negative correlation to the expansion of their schedules. The lack of air conditioning at Crabapple Farm, built prior to the invention of central air, doesn't help. Mrs. Belden valiantly tries to alleviate the gloom, keeping the refrigerator and freezer steadily stocked with cool refreshments. But with Bobby's strange behavior, Trixie and Hallie's ongoing rivalry, and the family's combined stress about the wedding, in addition to worry for Dan, all the peppermint ice cream in the world can't raise their spirits.
In spite of the days being packed with wedding arrangements and managing any surrounding issues that arise, the weeks leading up to the ceremony seem to stretch out before Mart for an eternity. A deep part of him aches whenever he thinks about Dan, and when Mart eventually does manage to temporarily put Dan out of his mind, he's just somehow reminded of him again. One sunny morning, he's spreading sunblock on his arms in preparation of spending the day gathering the strawberry crop with his siblings for the farmers' market. Just as he judges his coverage sufficient and caps the bottle, Mart's suddenly reminded of Dan's fair Irish complexion that he takes great pains to shield from the sun.
"I sunburn easily. Five minutes in direct light, and I look like a Zeltron," Dan once protested in response to Mart's teasing about "Dan the vampire." They'd been washing the Belden vehicles, and Dan made certain to methodically apply sunscreen to every inch of visible skin despite their close contact with water.
Determined to "holp," his older brother wash the cars, Bobby was present, delightedly joining in on Mart's jibes, likening Dan to the titular character of Danny Phantom .
And Dan responded in the most nuanced and diplomatic way he could: turning the hose onto full power and blasting them both with the spray of water.
A smile plays on Mart's face at the memory as he exits the house and stands on the front porch, looking out into the distance, but it leaves his face as the happy memory flees his mind.
Never has Mart been more grateful for Trixie's detective chops as when just after the ceremony, she realizes the similarities between Dan's disappearance and now Hallie's. At Jim's encouragement, she phones the police, urging them to check the Glen Road Inn. The police do so immediately, more because, Mart suspects, Molinson wants to prevent the BWGs from becoming embroiled in any criminal plots, rather than actual faith in Trixie.
However, Trixie's theory proves correct, and in less than ten minutes, phone calls from the police summon Regan and the Beldens to the hospital. Hallie is released almost immediately, with instructions to rest and rehydrate. Dan will have to remain at the hospital for a longer amount of time, and only Regan, his blood relative, is allowed to see him at this point.
Still, an enormous weight is lifted from Mart's shoulders. With Dan back, everything that was wrong in their lives will return to normal.
Or so he thinks. Several days later, he's proven incorrect.
"Dan doesn't want anyone to visit him in the hospital?" Mart balks.
He's standing in the kitchen of Crabapple Farm, chopping watermelon for Bobby, who he's supervising. The rest of the Beldens are out and about, with Trixie in particular shirking her babysitting responsibilities in favor of spending the afternoon at the Wheeler lake with Hallie, Honey, and Diana.
Jim shrugs helplessly. "That's what Dad and Mother said. He made an exception for my parents, and also Regan and Mr. Maypenny. And I guess he'd have to allow the police to come see him so he could give a statement. But otherwise . . . I guess he's just not up to seeing anyone."
"I guess," Mart echoes, still stunned. He can't help the jab of hurt, either, but he quickly pushes it aside; it's not his pain that matters at the moment. "Hang on." He grabs a spoon from the silverware drawer and lifts the bowl of watermelon, carrying it into the family room. Mart hands the bowl to Bobby, who's plunked down by the coffee table, his eyes riveted on the television screen, where the G.I. Joe cartoon is playing.
Mart returns to the kitchen. "What else do you know?"
Jim hesitates. "Well, Dad and Mother have been very keen to hear the details of the investigation, and they've made a decent amount of donations to the police department in the past few years. So I've been able to overhear some of the theories from when the police drop by to speak with them."
"So why did those criminals shut Dan in that hotel room?" Mart questions. "What could have possibly been the explanation?"
With a grimace, Jim begins. "Those criminals were drug dealers. They were around my age. Basically, they're three rich kids from the city who became involved in selling drugs because of the amount of money they could make."
"Big money is the tradeoff for a short lifespan, as far as dealing is concerned," Mart comments.
Jim nods in agreement. "That's part of it. They were hiding out down here because they screwed up some drug deal in the city. The Manhattan police picked them and found the drugs on them, and the dealers were arrested. But they're technically minors, not to mention from wealthy and well-connected families, so they made bail."
"Arrested for possession with intent to distribute, but they were released on bail?" Mart shakes his head in disbelief. "I've seen news stories where people get eighty years for being found with a dimebag of pot."
"Well, I guess those people in the news stories don't have the friends that these guys did," Jim remarks. "Anyway, the perps decided to get away from the city, so they came down here to hide out. They didn't want to draw too much attention to themselves, which is why they tried to threaten Bobby into supplying them with food. And they were also worried about money— so when one of them noticed Julianna with her ring, he began lurking around, trying to find the right opportunity to steal it."
"That frog hunter Bobby saw," Mart realizes. "He was trying to steal the ring, so Dan stole it before he could get to it."
"That's about the short of it," Jim affirms. "Actually, the only reason they held Dan captive is because he accidentally stumbled into their room when trying to make a delivery to Ella Kline for the wedding. They just panicked at the idea of someone discovering the three of them and their hideout and figuring out that they were wanted by the police. But they also didn't want to risk being charged with a crime more serious than drug dealing, so they just kept him there to prevent him from telling anyone. Something similar happened with Hallie."
Mart stared at Jim in disbelief. "But would Dan have recognized any of them? Did he know them?"
"Not as far as anyone knows." Jim shrugs helplessly. "Stress does strange things to people. I guess the perps were already nervous, and when Dan happened upon all three of them at once, they freaked out and thought he would connect the dots, as irrational as it was."
For a moment, Mart merely absorbs Jim's words in silence, and then he just shakes his head. "So, for Dan, it really was just a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time."
Jim sighs heavily. "Looks like it, yeah."
Almost a week passes with no further word of Dan or any from him; Mart's texts and calls to his cell phone go unanswered. Even though Dan's been found, Mart can't help but feel that with the radio silence, it's almost as though Dan was never located at all.
Frustrated by the summer's unpleasant shift to constant dreariness, Mart decides to take constructive action: he'll purchase Dan a homecoming gift. Supplying his father with money, Mart convinces him to purchase a deluxe pack of fireworks on final sale at the supermarket— he and Dan can set them off next year for the Fourth of July, or at midnight during New Year's. A quick visit to the used bookshop, and Mart has a handful of Marvel and DC tie-in novels, as well as the science fiction trilogy of Hellconia Spring , Summer , and Winter that Dan's been wanting to read.
He packs a backpack with these items, as well as a tin of the chocolate peanut butter bars for which Dan is willing to temporarily lift his ban on consuming excessive sugar. Then Mart saddles Strawberry and rides out to the Maypenny cabin. The earlier he delivers his gift, the better chance it can be waiting for Dan when he eventually does return from the hospital.
To Mart's resounding surprise, it's Dan who answers the heavy wooden door of the Maypenny cabin, leaving the screen door between them.
Rendered speechless, it's several moments before Mart can do anything but gaze at Dan in astonishment. And while he's fixated on Dan, he gleans various facets of Dan's appearance. Dan's usually ivory complexion seems almost gray and waxen, and the shadows beneath his eyes are deeper and darker than usual. The half-circles stand out in stark contrast to Dan's colorless face, giving the impression of bruises. Not that he's short on those, either: impressions of fingers are evident on Dan's pale neck, while scrapes and discolorations dot his features. Any further injuries are covered by Dan's jeans and long-sleeved black T-shirt.
"What are you doing here?" Mart finally manages.
"I live here," Dan responds flatly.
"Well—yeah," Mart stumbles in his reply, caught off-guard by Dan's coolness and oddly dispassionate tone. "But I didn't know you were out of the hospital. None of us did."
"That was deliberate," Dan informs him. "I didn't want any type of ceremony or celebration while I was there. I just wanted to heal in peace, and then leave."
"Um." Mart unslings the backpack from his shoulders. "I brought some stuff for you."
Dan looks down. "You can just leave it on the porch swing."
A brief silence commences.
"Okay, I'll do that." Mart sets his backpack on the porch swing and unpacks the novels, cookie tin, and fireworks. He turns back to Dan, opening his mouth to talk, but Dan beats him to it.
"Look, Mart." Dan seems oddly still when he speaks. "I know I wasn't around to get your calls during this week. I'm actually probably not going to be around to answer your calls for a while."
Mart's heart sinks to his shoes, and he nods in acknowledgement of Dan's words, but doesn't trust himself to speak as anger flares in his chest. He turns away, trying to subdue his emotions through reasoning: Dan is the person who's been hurt, and now Dan is making his own choices for his recovery. Mart needs to respect his boundaries.
All the same, the sound of the cabin door solidly swinging shut inspires a surge of frustration within Mart.
Weariness and disappointment washing over him, Mart trudges down from the porch back toward Strawberry. Perhaps a dozen fireflies glint in the gathering darkness around him, the few survivors of the summer session, giving one last hurrah before the close of the season.