The Unsolved Case –by Rae Prite
Chapter 1
A girl aged fifteen stood on the sidewalk staring at a white clapboard house on the corner of Elm and High streets. The house was beautiful –well set back from the street, with dark green shutters and flower beds in full bloom. Her sapphire blue eyes looked at the house number above the garage, and then down at a scrap of paper she was holding, wondering if she had done the right thing when she had bought that bus ticket earlier that day.
The memory of her best friends Mitch and Charli enveloping her in a hard, tearful hug before leaving that morning was playing on a permanent loop in her mind: "Don't forget to write!" Charli called after her as she climbed onto the bus. She turned in time to catch Mitch's hands move in those old gestures that made Mitch, well, just good old Mitch. She had smiled sadly at her old friends, wondering if she would ever see them again.
Now she shook her head, and swiped at her eyes trying to refocus on the task at hand. She took several deep breaths to summon her wits. After she readjusted the heavy backpack she was carrying she started up the driveway, her fears racing through her head faster than drivers going around a NASCAR track.
What if I wrote the address wrong? I suppose I could look it up in the phonebook, but it might not be listed. What if they're not home, what do I do then? Go back? NO! No, I can't do that. I would shoot myself in the head before I went back there. And what if they don't believe me? They'll probably think I'm nuts, and call the nearest hospital, asking about runaway mental patients. And what am I supposed to say to them anyway? Sigh... Well, I guess I'll find out soon enough, but still...
She paused on the walkway, a few feet from the front porch and clutched her mid-section, feeling a brief but raw pain in her stomach that suddenly hit her hard. OW! God, that hurts! It's weird, but I've been feeling this pain a lot lately, Her mind realized. I don't know why though... I hope it's just nerves. Ouch! Sigh, All right now... don't you even think of quitting when you've come this far already. Darn it, you're tougher than that!
She straightened her shoulders, and lifted her head a bit higher, in an effort to make it seem that she was completely calm and collected, before she stepped onto the front porch. It wasn't big, but it had a few hanging plants with bright pink flowers –pansies she thought- as well as a small white bench next to the railing on the left side of the door.
Glancing briefly at the plants, she felt a small smile on her lips, while her eyes glowed in appreciation. She had always loved flowers, since she had been a little girl. Though these weren't the daisies that she loved so dearly, she still liked the cheerful effect these had on the landscape.
Reluctantly turning, she faced the door. As she raised her hand, though, the questions came at her again; with more force this time. A voice suddenly made itself be heard over the ruckus: So what? At least she can say she tried, instead of wondering what would have happened! This effectively silenced the mentally tormenting subject, for the moment anyway.
She took another deep breath, and let her hand hit against the dark green door a few times to announce her presence. Her heart beat wildly in her chest, as she awaited her fate. Five minutes were passed in agony, and she wondered again about those insistent questions that had been bugging her moments before, but she stubbornly pushed them aside, and knocked a little louder on the door this time.
Two more almost unbearable minutes passed...
Great! Just peachy, that's what this is! She thought miserably, feeling that no one was home. This was a stupid idea from the start. Okay, now comes plan B; Watch out Chicago! Here comes your next biggest hit!
She started back toward the street, wondering how much money a bus ticket to the "windy city" from this suburb of New York was going to cost her. She might just have to stay here for a bit and look for a job. Wonder if there are any places that need a waitress, or singer, who's a little short for, ahem, "eighteen".
Even as the thoughts went through her head, she heard the door open behind her. Turning, she saw a young man standing there, looking curious, and just a smidge exasperated.
He was definitely what she would categorize as handsome. He looked like he was at least 19, maybe even 20, but she couldn't be sure. Dark brown, almost black hair was accented by warm chocolate colored eyes. He had a lean build, with a chiseled Grecian-like chin, accompanying a six-foot-one frame.
Easy now girl, he's got to be taken if he's that good looking! Besides, he's too old for you... and there is that other small possibility you know. She tried not to stare anywhere but his face, which she literally had to look up to since she was only five foot six and he was around six feet.
His hair would be the same color of mine, if mine weren't a little more golden in places, and a little wavier... The absurd thought came and went so fast that she wondered if she had thought it at all.
"I'm sorry it took so long to get to the door. I told my brother to go get it, and he told me to buzz-off, and, well, ahem- Can I help you miss?" His voice had a reserved but pleasant quality that seemed to make him very approachable, and the slightly embarrassed looking smile made the fifteen year olds stone heart melt a little.
She found herself smiling back at him as she walked back up the driveway to stand in front of him.
"I hope that you can. I'm looking for Detective Fenton Hardy; does he live here?" She held her hands behind her back, crossing her fingers.
The older teen smiled a little knowing smile, as he replied. "Yeah he does. I'm Frank; Fenton Hardy is my dad. Is there something he can help you with?"
Oh yes, yes, YES! She exulted silently. Okay, play it cool, don't scare the nice young man now. She admonished herself silently.
"I was hoping I could talk to him about...uh, something important. Is he available?" She hesitated, not sure if she really had the guts to do this now that she was here. Come on, you can't chicken-out when you've come this far! She told herself sternly.
Frank looked apologetic as he replied, "I'm really sorry miss, uh-"
She blushed with embarrassment as she replied. "Oh, I'm sorry… My name is Beth Taylor, well, Bethany actually, but I like to be called Beth a lot better." She smiled, and shrugged.
"It's nice to meet you Beth. Like I said, I'm really sorry, but my dad is out of town right now, and he's not supposed to be back until late tomorrow night at the soonest."
Beth's smile faded away, her shoulders drooped and the hopeful glint that had been in her eyes completely disappeared. "Oh, I-I see. Well, umm, thank you for your time, and I'm sorry to have bothered you." Beth smiled at Frank, but the smile didn't make it to her eyes.
She spun around, fully intending to run down the street before she burst into tears. But then, fate...
"Hey you know if you want, you could come inside, and maybe my brother and I could see if we might be able to help you." Frank said quickly, feeling his heart reach out for this young girl that just seemed to be able to scream without any words, "I need help. I wasn't dealt a fair hand, and I need someone to help me out a jut little."
Beth looked back at him, a confused expression contorting her features. "What? You? I-I mean... Look, I don't mean to be rude, but...how can you help me? You're just a kid like me." She folded her arms over her chest and cocked a doubtful eyebrow.
Frank grinned. "Well, my brother and I have both solved cases on our own, as well as helped my dad out with a few of his investigations since we were little. We're kind of famous around here, and considered detectives in our own right; so I guess you could say that we're replacements for when dad's not available." He shrugged.
Beth must have still appeared dubious, since Frank quickly added, "Look, I know you don't have any reason to take my word for it. After all, I don't have a badge to show you, just my word; but it wouldn't hurt to give it a shot, would it?"
Beth was still about to say, 'no thanks,' but then she peered into Frank's eyes. They were such deep brown eyes, that looked so sincere and kind and oddly familiar. They had this glint in them that said, in so few unspoken words, 'Trust me, I can help. I know I can.'
"I- I guess that would be okay... As long as I wouldn't bother anyone, that is." Beth looked at Frank as if this was her last ditch effort at getting out of the whole situation.
Frank smiled warmly, making Beth feel she had known him her whole life. Or, maybe more like in another life altogether, she mused silently.
"Well, if we work at it, we might be able to bother my younger brother for being such a pain about answering the door..." Suddenly the smile turned a little devilish and he cocked an eyebrow as he added, in a lower tone, "You wanna see if we can?"
This time Beth couldn't help herself and she snorted out right at the older boy's antics. She nodded her head, helpless to the fact that she still couldn't make a noise other than giggling, as she followed Frank into the house.
Well, if nothing else, this will be a very entertaining evening, Beth thought with a smirk.