Disclaimer: I do not own the Hardy Boys or any of the canon book characters, and am making no monies from this story. Any Original Characters belong to the author(s).

Note: This story was written in 2003, so technology was not as advanced as it is today. People still used landlines, and texting, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and Snapchat were still in the future or in their infancy. Co-written with RokiaHDA, who wrote back then under the name of Aspen.

Thank you, Cherylann, BMSH and Max2013 for the feedback.

Ghost of November Past

By EvergreenDreamweaver and RokiaHDA

Chapter 4

With an exclamation of dismay, Cherise LeGault got to her feet and stepped around her desk, hurrying to the older woman's side. Joe and Vanessa rose also, turning towards the two.

"Ellen, please, clarify what you just said," Cherise requested. "What do you mean, the lighthouse was broken into?" She glanced at the listening Joe and Vanessa. "This is Mrs. Ellen Waiford, one of the Society's secretaries," she explained briefly. "Ellen, go on, please. Did something happen to the lens? Was it broken?"

"No, no, no." Mrs. Waiford shook her head in denial. "We just got a call from the security firm that handles the alarm system at the Stone Point lighthouse. Someone has violated the security; one of the alarms has gone off. The police are on their way there right now."

Cherise gave a little sigh. "I suppose I should go out there and see what's going on," she said ruefully. "Someone from the Historical Society should meet with the police, after all." A small frown creased her forehead. "Are they sure it wasn't just Mr. Carter, the caretaker?"

"I suppose it might be," Mrs. Waiford conceded, "and if it is, they'll find out soon enough. But it shouldn't be – after all, Mr. Carter knows the codes for the alarms, and the passwords, and such, and he hasn't set off the alarm before. Oh dear, this is so upsetting…." The woman's voice, which had settled to conversational levels, now rose again, in her agitation.

"Mrs. Waiford, why don't you go sit down for a bit?" Cherise firmly shooed the secretary towards her office. "Maybe a glass of water…" In a few moments she returned, the rueful smile still curving her lips. "I'm sorry about this; I'm going to have to cut our talk short, and go out to the lighthouse, I'm afraid."

"That's okay; we understand," Vanessa assured her. "Does this sort of thing happen very often?"

"No, not usually," Cherise replied, taking her coat from the coat rack in her office and slipping it on. "There are four rather nice-sized houses built on Stone Point, within sight of the place, and the neighbors have always been good about keeping an eye on the lighthouse." A smile lighted her face. "Don't worry, I've notified them that there are going to be people poking around and getting data for a report; they won't call the police if they see you there."

"Cherise, could we maybe go out there with you? Maybe we could be of some help – for whatever went wrong." Joe made the suggestion with a hopeful uplift of his brows. When Vanessa caught his eye, he gave her a covert wink.

Cherise looked uncertain for a moment, then shrugged her shoulders. "Why not? That way I can show you where things are while we're out there, and we won't have to make a separate trip later."

"We'll meet you there," Joe promised, and tugged Vanessa towards the front door. "Grab your umbrella, Babe," he advised, plucking his own from the stand, "and let's get moving!"

#####

Since the route from the Historical Society to the lighthouse took them very close to Elm and High, Joe and Vanessa decided on a quick detour – for two reasons. The first was to pick up Matt Eckersley. Alerted by a hasty call, Matt packed up some of his equipment in a smaller carry-case, and was waiting just inside the front door when Vanessa pulled the Jeep to a stop in front of the Hardy home.

The second reason was a practical one – they decided to switch over to Joe's Aztek, which would more readily fit three people plus camera equipment. Although Vanessa made a few disparaging comments about the condition of the vehicle, she was doing it mostly in fun…there wasn't really as much mud as she implied!

Matt climbed into the back seat, stowing the camera case securely on the floor behind Joe's seat. "I am like so totally jazzed about going to this place already!" he bubbled. "Even if it is raining!" Prepared for the weather, Matt was clad in a long, trench-coat type jacket and a broad-brimmed leather hat which slickly shed the rainwater. "I've got two waterproof cameras with me – I had a feeling the weather was going to be nasty! – and some really cool lens filters.…I'd love to get some rainy night shots of the lighthouse tonight – talk about a mood piece! I didn't think we'd get out there so soon, dude!" He smacked Joe on the shoulder lightly, his patented hyena grin in evidence.

"You'll get your chance for the eerie night shots," Vanessa informed him, peering through the windshield up at the lowering sky. There was a dusky twilight feel to it; the sun was there, it was supposed to be shining, but it was being thoroughly eclipsed by the heavy clouds. "Not only is it pouring, but it's going to be darker than normal, because of the cloud cover. You might get a chance at catching this odd light effect – although it'll be gone once the sun actually does go down, of course."

"Cool!" Matt sighed blissfully and settled into his seat. "That's even better! Talk about the totally awesome pics I can do – hey, will the light be on, d'you think?" he inquired abruptly. "The lighthouse light, I mean?"

"No clue," Joe answered, "I don't know if they run it all the time, or not. I sort of gathered that it's more used for special occasions now."

"Or when there are really bad storms," Vanessa reminded him. "Maybe it will be on tonight."

Matt emitted another blissful sigh and grinned again. "Dude! We're gonna score for sure, man!"

###

They drove through the outskirts of Bayport and beyond, to the ridge where Stone Point lighthouse was located on a rocky outcropping which extended into Barmet Bay. Joe spotted a group of people clustered near the structure, and parked as close as he could; the three got out and approached them.

Cherise LeGault was talking to two uniformed policemen, all three of them huddled beneath umbrellas. Another man was standing to one side, looking thoroughly drenched and unhappy as the rain pelted down onto his bare head. Yet another man stood apart, holding an umbrella over his head.

"Joe – Vanessa." Cherise's smile of welcome was a bit uncertain. "It took you longer to get here than I thought it would." She glanced questioningly at Matt.

"We stopped to switch cars," Joe explained, "and to pick up a friend who's going to be helping us with our report. Miss LeGault, this is Matt Eckersley; Matt, Cherise LeGault, of the Bayport Historical Society."

Matt nodded, and extended a cordial hand. "Nice to meet you."

Cherise smiled at him, shaking hands, and then turned to Joe. "It wasn't a break-in after all," she explained. "Mr. Baker," she indicated the unhappy-looking gentleman who was getting so very wet, "had car trouble. He came to the lighthouse thinking he could get warm and dry – and ended up setting off the alarm."

"Why didn't he just go to one of the houses?" Joe asked in a low tone. "Why come to the lighthouse?"

"I don't know," Cherise admitted. "I didn't think to ask him that."

The two police officers moved to talk to Mr. Baker, who appeared to be gratified for the shelter of their umbrellas.

"Come on," Cherise beckoned Joe, Vanessa and Matt towards the lighthouse itself. "Let's get in out of the rain, and I'll start getting you acquainted with the place." She led them to the door, and keyed in a code on the touchpad mounted beside it, then unlocked the door and ushered them inside.

"Well, here we are." Cherise flicked a light switch. They were standing in a small room which contained the bottom of a circular staircase which spiraled its way upward through the lighthouse. "There's not a lot to see here – not really much in the lighthouse itself. Just this room, the stairs going up, and the lens room itself. Of course, there's also an outer walk area – outside the glass. That's there so that caretakers can clean the glass, that sort of thing."

"Can we go up?" Vanessa was moving towards the staircase, eyes wide in anticipation.

"Sure, come on." Cherise led them up the curving stairs. Around, around, around…finally, they gained the room at the top where the gigantic lens was mounted.

"Wow!" Joe stared up at it. He hadn't realized just how big these things actually were! "It's gotta be ten feet wide!" Vanessa stood open-mouthed; Matt was already digging into his case for his camera, muttering to himself.

Cherise smiled proudly, pleased by their reactions to 'her' lighthouse. "This is a Fresnel lens. They were first created by a Frenchman, Augustine Fresnel, in 1822. That's F-R-E-S-N-E-L, Vanessa, despite the pronunciation." She pronounced it Frey-nell. "This particular lens was made in 1882. It was shipped over from France, and installed here in 1884." Still smiling, she paused, waiting while Vanessa madly scribbled notes, then went on. "The cost, at that time, was $12,000 – an incredible amount then."

"How big is it?" Joe asked, craning his neck.

"Twelve feet," Cherise replied proudly. "It has over one thousand prisms, and weighs about three tons."

"Three TONS?" Matt popped his head out from behind his camera. "Whoa, that is one large piece of glass, dude!" He disappeared again, without waiting for a reply, and resumed snapping pictures.

Cherise chuckled and continued dispensing information. "It's called a 'first-order' lens. Absolutely the best of the best, as far as lighthouse lenses go."

"If the lens is that big, that heavy," Joe asked in puzzlement, "how – WHY – would anyone worry about it being stolen? Wouldn't it be next to impossible to do it?"

Cherise sighed, the smile momentarily disappearing from her face. "Joe, if thieves want something badly enough, they'll find a way to take it. I've read of other Fresnel lenses being stolen, all over the United States, and still others vandalized so that they aren't worth anything. This one here in Bayport is one of the few that is still functioning and usable!"

Matt lowered his camera again. "Cherise, what do they use to light it?" he asked curiously.

"Well, back in the old days, it was a lamp, with five wicks which were arranged concentrically." Cherise's smile had returned again, along with her enthusiasm. "The lamps were fueled with sperm whale oil, or lard. When kerosene was discovered, it replaced the whale oil and lard—"

"The whales appreciated that!" Joe murmured to Vanessa, who giggled softly.

"—and eventually, incandescent light bulbs replaced the kerosene lanterns," Cherise concluded. "Of course, eventually that sort of did away with having to have a light keeper on the premises at all times. The lights didn't have to be lit each night or snuffed each morning. They could use timers on the switches instead."

Matt put away his camera, and Cherise led the little group back down the dizzying circles of steps, to the ground floor once again. They retrieved their umbrellas, and set out for the lightkeeper's house. It was a short walk; Cherise explained that there actually was an entrance from the house to the lighthouse proper, with a passageway between, but at the moment, it was padlocked, so they couldn't use it.

"We'll have to go through the front door of the house – oh, yes?" She broke off her explanation, as one of the police officers approached.

"Miss LeGault, we're going to take Mr. Baker back to his car now, and wait for a tow truck. Will you be all right here?"

"Of course I will. I'm going to finish a quick tour for these people, and then head back to town myself," Cherise replied warmly. "Thank you so much for coming."

The officers departed in their patrol car, Mr. Carter the caretaker resumed his duties, whatever they were, and Cherise led Matt, Joe and Vanessa into the lightkeeper's cottage.

"Cottage" was hardly the word for it, they found. This was no little shed, no decrepit hovel. It was actually quite a large house, two-storied, with several decently-sized bedrooms, a comfortably large kitchen and main room, and closets aplenty. There was still furniture in place; it looked as if it would be an enjoyable place to live. Cherise mentioned that it was more or less used as a museum, with period displays upstairs.

Matt took out a camera once more, and checked it over. "Is it okay if I wander around outside and take some shots?"

"Sure, Matt, go ahead," Joe replied absently, and Matt flashed him a quick grin before darting back out the door. Joe hurried to catch up with Vanessa and Cherise, who were doing a quick tour of the whole house.

"Well, there it is," Cherise announced, when the walk-through was completed. "Here is a set of keys for you. You and your friends can have pretty much complete run of the place. You're getting free access because so many people vouched for you," she added, with a slight warning tone in her voice. "Do please be careful not to damage anything, won't you?"

"We'll be very careful!" Joe vowed. "The only ones who should be here are Vanessa and me, Matt, and my brother and his girlfriend. And they're pretty responsible people!" he grinned. "Can we drop by the Historical Society tomorrow and pick up those copies of the documents you were going to give us?"

"I can do better than that," Cherise told him. "If you're going to be here tomorrow, I'll bring the documents to you. I often stop by; I don't mind the drive, even in the cold rain."

"We won't be here until late afternoon," Joe told her. "I'm playing in a football game earlier, and it starts at noon. But we'll come after it's over. How does 4:30 sound?"

"I can do 4:30," she nodded agreeably.

"Great, we'll plan on that, then."

Vanessa had been looking out the window. "Joe, do you suppose Matt's still out there trying to take photos?" she fretted. "It's raining so hard…"

"I suppose he must be, unless he got in the car; he didn't try going back into the lighthouse, because he would have set off the alarm again," Joe replied. "If he was smart, he's in the car."

Vanessa opened the door and put her head out, listening…frowning, both in worry and in concentration. "I thought I heard something….THERE! I knew I did!" She whirled towards Joe. "Joe, come on! There's something wrong with Matt – he's yelling for help!"

The information on the Fresnel lens was obtained at: www. lanternroom misc/ freslens. htm.