As mentioned in the revised author's notes in Ch 1, Bayport is in New Jersey (I think...) and may still possibly have some New York elements in it. Thanks again to Chromde for pointing that out.
Once again, I do not own the Hardy Boys.
Enjoy!
Fenton closed his eyes, trying to understand what Laura was going through. It was an impossible task, however. He had just explained to her ATAC. About Frank and Joe's habit of disappearing for days on some kind of "field trip" or "contest" were actually missions that saved lives. How Frank truly lived out his last moments, and about the killer who still walks among the public.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Her voice was strong, despite the tears running down her cheeks. "He was my son, dammit!"
"I didn't want to drag you into the mess," he said quietly. "It would have been better that way."
"Better for who?" The words hung in the air. "For me, or for you?"
Fenton couldn't find the words to respond, so he sat quietly on his seat on the couch.
"Frank said it was better for you not to find out about what a monster he would become by joining Project AA." Joe's voice shattered the silence, and both parents looked up at their blonde son.
"What do you mean?" Laura asked.
"He didn't want to be remembered as a killer. He wanted to be remembered as Frank." Joe sat down on an armchair. "We talked about it the day before he left. He told me that if he died, to not tell you anything. He wanted you to remember him as your son, Mom, not as a killer."
Laura got up from the couch, and walked over to Joe. His head was hanging down, tears in his eyes from the last memory of his brother. She hugged him, as if trying to lift the burden off his shoulders.
"There's something else," he mumbled, taking some papers out of his pocket. "I found two pages from Frank's journal."
Fenton took them, and quickly read the words before handing them over to his wife. "Where did you find them?"
"One was on Frank's bed. I thought he might have taken all of his other journals, but today…" Joe looked at the window briefly. "The girl. She's been stalking me. She left lunches in my locker, and today she gave me the other one with a concert ticket."
The PI frowned. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"You were preoccupied with your work. I thought that… you needed some space."
"Joe, this is the kind of thing that should be told, no matter what we're doing," Laura said. "We can't let this go on."
"No," Fenton agreed. His mind was reeling in all of the information. "Joe, we found Frank's remains."
"What?!" Joe shot out from his seat, startling his mother. "Where? How?"
"The killer delivered them," Fenton admitted. "He's playing some kind of sick game by killing off people associated with ATAC, and he threatened to kill you unless I stay out of it."
"So Snake is trying to kill me?" Joe asked, his voice a little shaky.
"Yes. I think the 'Snake' Frank mentioned is the one who killed him, and wants to kill you."
Joe's face paled at the idea. "Dad, you have to solve this case."
"But Joe-" Laura protested.
"Mom, we have to find Frank's killer. It's better to risk my life and catch him instead of letting more people die." The blonde boy began to pace around. "If he contacted Dad and threatened him, then he knows Dad can catch him. He probably doesn't have any clear way to get to me-"
"Yes he does! The stalker," Laura pointed out. "What if the stalker and Snake are working together?"
"It's possible," Fenton agreed. "But we can't be sure. We have to track down one to get to the other."
"That should be easy," Joe joked. "The stalker follows me around all the time."
"We don't know for sure, Joe. But as for now, I don't want you anywhere by yourself. There's safety in numbers." Fenton walked over to the phone. "I'll try to get some agents on this matter. We have to stop them both before it gets out of hand."
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The house was empty, which didn't disappoint her. In fact, she was quite happy with the development.
She had memorized the whole house by now. Her footsteps were silent as she approached the back door. The key slipped in with ease, and the door opened, as if inviting her in.
Her work was easy. At one point, she stopped and wondered why she was doing it in the first place.
For Joe, she reminded herself. I need to protect Joe.
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His friends had willingly agreed to help him out. Chet, Biff, Tony, Callie, and Phil had worked out a way so that the blonde was with someone at all times.
Joe had apologized continuously throughout the first few days, but they waved it off. Callie had responded with "It's either us helping, or you getting kidnapped or something. Trust us, it's better this way."
That's what they thought, at first.
It had been three days since the system had begun, and Joe was walking to school with Callie and Phil.
"You okay?" Callie asked, noticing the dark circles under Joe's eyes.
"I had a nightmare," he admitted. "It kept me up half the night."
"Frank, right?" Phil said softly.
Joe nodded. "He was dying right in front of me… and… and I couldn't help or…"
"You feel useless," Callie concluded. "You think you could have stopped his death, but you did nothing."
Joe nodded again. "I could have been with him, I bet. If I pushed-"
"Joe, stop it," Phil said. "Frank probably wouldn't want you with him. He was probably very happy that you two were separated."
The words startled the blonde. "Why?"
"Because he knew you were hundreds of miles away, safe from the killer. He knew that you would live, and that some day, the bastard was going to be caught and face justice. And that was probably enough." Phil put an arm around Joe. "Trust me on this."
Memories started awakening in Joe's mind, as he recalled the last face-to-face conversation he had with his brother. "This is to protect you, little bro."
He nodded slowly as the school came into view. "I guess so."
"It'll be okay, Joe. You'll be fine."
"Sure…" Something within him told him differently, but he decided not to worry his friends with the idea at all.
The day had passed in its usual grace, with the boring classes taking a longer time while the interesting classes disappearing into the past. By the time the last bell had rung, Joe was more than ready to leave the building behind.
He opened his locker, to find a plush doll sitting on the bottom of the metal container. It closely resembled him, with one very noticeable difference. A small dagger had gone through the chest of the replica.
It sat on a piece of paper. When he was sure no one was looking his way, he pulled it out and read it silently.
The only thing I can feel somewhat certain of is that Joe's safe. Snake is too busy watching over me to manage to get to Bayport and go after Joe. Hawk assures me that Joe has no place in their plans, but I can't trust Snake to keep his word.
I watched Snake kill a man today. I didn't want to, but something inside of me made me. I saw how he works, and how he has little care for the blood he spills. Not one person he has killed has any value to him. It's like it's a hobby.
Why didn't I do anything? Why didn't I try and stop Snake?
I'm glad I haven't talked to Joe for a week now. He doesn't deserve to have a brother like me. He doesn't need to know I might become a killer, too.
Underneath his brother's neat handwriting, a single message had been written.
If the only way I can protect you is to kill you, I'll do it. With love, your Guardian Angel.
"'Guardian Stalker' is more like it," Joe mumbled, pocketing the paper. Maybe he could pull of fingerprints later-
"Joe!" Chet's voice interrupted the rest of his thoughts.
"What's up?" Joe placed his books in his locker, hiding the doll from view.
"I found this in my locker!" His friend held out a doll that resembled him, with a blade smaller than the dagger going through the middle. Attached to the blade was a piece of paper. Joe is mine. Touch him and suffer the consequences.
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Snake waited next to Hawk on the building edge. "You started already?"
"We can't afford to waste much time, Snake. Someone will thank us, one day."
"Who? Frank?"
She didn't answer, and Snake didn't encourage her to. Instead, they sat in silence for a minute.
"How soon do we need those files?" Hawk asked, looking down on the streets below.
"Soon. They know we're getting closer to the truth." He smirked. "I'm going to make another call to Fenton soon. He could actually be of some help."
"Are you going to leave him a trail?"
Snake pulled out a credit card from the pocket of his jacket. "Never really liked these things, but they do have their advantages."
"I already used that thing."
"For what?"
"This." Hawk pointed to the streets, where a prim woman was walking at a very fast pace on the sidewalk. She took no care to her surroundings, and everyone seemed to be repelled from her like invisible magnets.
As she took one more step, the woman suddenly fell onto the concrete. The people around her stared, as some rushed forward to see what was wrong.
"Her coffee taste was a bit odd. Some flavor you would have to special order for," Hawk said, standing up.
"Interesting." Snake closed his eyes. "Would you like me to get you anything?"
"Some gelatin and fruit juice. We ran out." Before walking away, she added, "And some rope and blades. I rather not try to get them back from those kids."
"I'll keep that in mind." Snake continued to watch the scene below him, as the group around the woman looked away in dismay, all hope lost. The assassin couldn't help but smile. There had been no bloodshed, but Hawk had efficiently started the paper trail. The question was if Fenton would find it.
"My dad's the best PI there ever was!"
He remember that phrase from what seemed like years ago. Frank didn't know the truth back then when they first met. He had hope within him, something Snake had to break down in order to show Frank the true side of life.
Snake got up, and left the scene to continue on without his gaze. There were always other times. Besides, there was still a fish to bait and a job to be done.