Part of the Family
Chapter Seven
by hbwgonnabe
"Joe Hardy," Sorrel said in a low voice as he rose to his feet. "Another son of Fenton Hardy?"
Marie's eyes narrowed on the two males as Joe drew himself up straight and made eye contact with her father. "Yes, Sir," he answered. "I guess I had better leave," he added.
"NO!" Marie shouted in protest, her hazel eyes widening.
"Of course not," Sorrel agreed. "You must stay for lunch. Honey," he said, turning to his daughter. "Go tell Andre we're ready for lunch to be served."
Sorrel waited until Marie had left the room then turned back to Joe. "My family is separate from my work," he asserted. "My daughter knows only that I run a large corporation. It will stay this way."
Joe did not respond to the thinly veiled threat in his tone. Instead, Joe met his eyes and asked a question that a braver man might have thought twice about. "Did you take the Renoir from the museum last night?"
Sorrel stared at Joe in shock. This is it, Joe thought. Frank always said I would go too far one day.
"Did I take it?" Sorrel asked, finally. "The Renoir?" Joe nodded his head once. "The Renoir I wanted?" he asked, seemingly unable to believe what Joe had asked him. Again, Joe gave a curt nod. "This is outrageous!" Sorrel thundered, his face turning red as Joe leaned back in surprise at the sudden change in demeanor. "How dare..."
"Daddy!" Marie snapped, coming back into the room.
"I'm sorry, Pumpkin," Sorrel said, trying to calm down. "But I have just had some distressing news. The Renoir I was trying to purchase for your grandmother was stolen."
"How did you find out?" Marie demanded, looking at him suspiciously. She hadn't heard the phone ring.
"Your young man just informed me," Sorrel told her.
"How do you know?" she asked curiously, directing her gaze at Joe.
"My brother and I are detectives," Joe informed her. "The curator asked us to find the thief and return the painting."
"He did?" Sorrel exclaimed, perking up. "Wonderful!" he put an arm around Joe's shoulders and smiled, revealing a set of perfect teeth. "You and your brother find the Renoir and return it to the museum. I will keep working on Mr. Benson. I am sure we can come to an agreement on a purchase price."
As he finished speaking the doorbell rang. "I'll get it," Marie said. "Too bad it's Roxton's day off."
After Marie left, Sorrel removed his arm from Joe's shoulders. "To answer your question," he said. "I did not take the Renoir. I don't know who took it but I do want it. For the record, young Hardy, I do not give stolen merchandise to my family."
"I never said you did," Joe pointed out. "I only asked if you had taken it. You are a suspect."
Sorrel broke out laughing at Joe's audacity. "You have guts, young man. I will give you that." He quit laughing and turned serious. "About my daughter..." he began.
"She won't hear anything from me," Joe promised. "I like your daughter," he continued. "But I'm no fool. I believe it would be for the best if I just left."
"Perhaps you should leave," Sorrel agreed, unaware Marie had just walked in followed by three men. "It is better that you end it now before problems arise."
"No!" Marie screamed. "I hate you!" she shouted at her father before turning and fleeing from the room. Seconds later they heard her bedroom door slam.
Sorrel looked over at Joe, a frown marring his features. "You do realize that since her mother died, she has been the sole light of my life," he said.
Joe nodded as he listened to Sorrel but glanced nervously at two of the men who had entered the room: Greg Maxwell and Steve Piers. Both were suspected of being hit men for the mob although no evidence had ever come to light.
"There is only one course of action that can be taken," Sorrel continued, not paying attention to the evil anticipatory smiles of the men who were looking at Joe. "You will date my daughter until she returns to boarding school."
"No!" Joe protested, as shocked as the men by the door. "It will only create a lot of problems for everyone."
"He's right," Maxwell put in, stepping forward. His green eyes raked over Joe with contempt. "He's Hardy's son for crying out loud."
"Enough!" thundered Sorrel. "I will not have my daughter hurt." He looked into Joe's eyes with his own hard blue ones. "Find the Renoir but stay out of my business," he warned. "However, if you do interfere in matters that do not concern you, you may wish you had never been born."
Chapter Seven
by hbwgonnabe
"Joe Hardy," Sorrel said in a low voice as he rose to his feet. "Another son of Fenton Hardy?"
Marie's eyes narrowed on the two males as Joe drew himself up straight and made eye contact with her father. "Yes, Sir," he answered. "I guess I had better leave," he added.
"NO!" Marie shouted in protest, her hazel eyes widening.
"Of course not," Sorrel agreed. "You must stay for lunch. Honey," he said, turning to his daughter. "Go tell Andre we're ready for lunch to be served."
Sorrel waited until Marie had left the room then turned back to Joe. "My family is separate from my work," he asserted. "My daughter knows only that I run a large corporation. It will stay this way."
Joe did not respond to the thinly veiled threat in his tone. Instead, Joe met his eyes and asked a question that a braver man might have thought twice about. "Did you take the Renoir from the museum last night?"
Sorrel stared at Joe in shock. This is it, Joe thought. Frank always said I would go too far one day.
"Did I take it?" Sorrel asked, finally. "The Renoir?" Joe nodded his head once. "The Renoir I wanted?" he asked, seemingly unable to believe what Joe had asked him. Again, Joe gave a curt nod. "This is outrageous!" Sorrel thundered, his face turning red as Joe leaned back in surprise at the sudden change in demeanor. "How dare..."
"Daddy!" Marie snapped, coming back into the room.
"I'm sorry, Pumpkin," Sorrel said, trying to calm down. "But I have just had some distressing news. The Renoir I was trying to purchase for your grandmother was stolen."
"How did you find out?" Marie demanded, looking at him suspiciously. She hadn't heard the phone ring.
"Your young man just informed me," Sorrel told her.
"How do you know?" she asked curiously, directing her gaze at Joe.
"My brother and I are detectives," Joe informed her. "The curator asked us to find the thief and return the painting."
"He did?" Sorrel exclaimed, perking up. "Wonderful!" he put an arm around Joe's shoulders and smiled, revealing a set of perfect teeth. "You and your brother find the Renoir and return it to the museum. I will keep working on Mr. Benson. I am sure we can come to an agreement on a purchase price."
As he finished speaking the doorbell rang. "I'll get it," Marie said. "Too bad it's Roxton's day off."
After Marie left, Sorrel removed his arm from Joe's shoulders. "To answer your question," he said. "I did not take the Renoir. I don't know who took it but I do want it. For the record, young Hardy, I do not give stolen merchandise to my family."
"I never said you did," Joe pointed out. "I only asked if you had taken it. You are a suspect."
Sorrel broke out laughing at Joe's audacity. "You have guts, young man. I will give you that." He quit laughing and turned serious. "About my daughter..." he began.
"She won't hear anything from me," Joe promised. "I like your daughter," he continued. "But I'm no fool. I believe it would be for the best if I just left."
"Perhaps you should leave," Sorrel agreed, unaware Marie had just walked in followed by three men. "It is better that you end it now before problems arise."
"No!" Marie screamed. "I hate you!" she shouted at her father before turning and fleeing from the room. Seconds later they heard her bedroom door slam.
Sorrel looked over at Joe, a frown marring his features. "You do realize that since her mother died, she has been the sole light of my life," he said.
Joe nodded as he listened to Sorrel but glanced nervously at two of the men who had entered the room: Greg Maxwell and Steve Piers. Both were suspected of being hit men for the mob although no evidence had ever come to light.
"There is only one course of action that can be taken," Sorrel continued, not paying attention to the evil anticipatory smiles of the men who were looking at Joe. "You will date my daughter until she returns to boarding school."
"No!" Joe protested, as shocked as the men by the door. "It will only create a lot of problems for everyone."
"He's right," Maxwell put in, stepping forward. His green eyes raked over Joe with contempt. "He's Hardy's son for crying out loud."
"Enough!" thundered Sorrel. "I will not have my daughter hurt." He looked into Joe's eyes with his own hard blue ones. "Find the Renoir but stay out of my business," he warned. "However, if you do interfere in matters that do not concern you, you may wish you had never been born."
