Disclaimer: Father, I must admit that my last confession was quite a few chapters ago... I don't own any of the Hardys, or...that's about it I think. How can I show my repentance?

A/N: okay, I'm gonna ignore the fact that no one reviewed the last chapter (it wasn't that bad was it?)

Anyway, here's the next one, and I think it's actually coming to the last couple of chapters now. Then I'll have finished my first story! Yay:D

okay, I'll shut up now...

'Where's your mask?' the man asked, quickly glancing at the woman in the passenger seat before turning his eyes back to the road as he guided the van through the town.

'I don't know,' she responded flatly, 'he must have pulled it off when I got up or something.'

'I must be getting weak,' she murmured after a pause, 'why didn't I just shoot them? That's not like me.'

'You were holding George. You wouldn't have been able to get both of them.Wait – you're telling me you don't have a backup plan?'

The redhead smiled. 'I always have a backup plan,' she told him softly, 'I'm just worried that it's too slow acting.'

'You poisoned him?' he grinned. 'That must have been difficult. However did you pull it off?' he asked sarcastically.

'Well, I was cooking his dinner the other night...' her voice trailed off into a chuckle as he joined in.

'This fabric is useless,' the CSI muttered to herself.

She had spent the last hour inspecting every inch of the ski mask Sam had brought her. As she had expected, the soft material didn't hold any prints and was probably going to bring them no closer to finding the gunman than Fenton telling her he was left handed.

She turned it inside out and suddenly her opinion changed as she smiled and reached for a pair of tweezers.

She heard the door click shut as someone quietly came into the lab. 'Rachael? You wanted to see me?'

'Yeah, hang on Hardy,' she murmured, carefully pulling away her discovery and holding it up for him to see. 'What does that look like to you?'

The detective came closer. 'A hair?' he hazarded.

'A wonderful source of DNA,' Rachael corrected, dropping it into an evidence bag.

'It was a woman?' he remarked, looking at the length of it, 'she was strong. Did they find the gun?

'Two. I'm guessing one's yours?'

'Yeah, I forgot to pick it up. Don't make me a suspect, okay?'

'If you stay on my good side,' she teased.

The doctor walked into the waiting room and looked around. The only person inside was a blonde haired teenager. I can't tell her... maybe her mother's gone to get something to eat.

However, after almost five minutes had passed and no one had come to join her, he went over to her.

'Are you here for Alexander Castelle?' he asked.

The girl looked up and nodded. 'How is he?'

The look on his face told her what he was going to say before he said it.

'He's – he's – dead?' she choked, searching his face for any sign that she was wrong.

'I'm very sorry, we did what we could.'

'But – how? He just passed out, it was the stress, because of what happened.'

'We found traces of poison in his system. It was too late.'

Georgina stared at him, instantly sure she knew who it was. Poison? She couldn't...she wouldn't...she's not that bad – is she?

'Are you okay?' the doctor asked kindly, sitting beside her.

Joe sat up at the sound of someone coming into the house. Must be dad, he thought, glancing at the clock on his bedside table, about time. It's gone midnight, and he's not even got a case as an excuse.

'Oh, hi,' Sam grinned, looking round when he heard the boy behind him, 'I didn't mean to wake you.'

'You didn't... I thought you were dad. Where is he?'

'He had to go somewhere. He's not going to be back for a while.'

'And he sent you to babysit,' Joe nodded knowingly, seating himself at the dining table and resting his chin on his hand as he watched his companion passively.

Sam looked up as silence enveloped them. 'Okay...first you refuse food and then you don't speak for a full minute. If you're not going back to sleep, I have to ask; who are you and what have you done with the real Joe Hardy?'

The boy smiled ruefully, turning his gaze on the counter top as he rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably.

'Come on,' Sam said softly, trying to lock his gaze, 'you know you can talk to me. What's up?'

Joe shrugged, and sighed. 'It feels...wrong. Working by myself. We're supposed to be a team, me and Frank, you know what I mean?'

'You two have been through a lot together,' Sam remarked. 'You don't think-?' he didn't want to say it out loud, but he had a feeling that it was exactly what the boy was thinking.

'That I can't do it alone?' he grinned as he decided to try and make light of it 'who's going to find me when I get kidnapped? It's got to happen, it always does. I almost feel as if this can't be solved until I do.'

'Well unless this...Georgina decides to hold you hostage to stop you from talking, I don't think there's much danger of that. Wait – Castelle? Blonde kid?'

'Yeah, what about her?'

'I just saw her. That's actually where your dad is. We found -' he continued to relate what he had seen and had been told by Fenton about the recent events, and by the end of his narration Joe knew what he had to do.

Taking the doctor's advice but refusing his offer to call someone to get her, George left the hospital and started to walk home, unmindful of the distance as she inwardly fumed over her stepmother's actions. She hardly even took notice of the darkness, which suited her mood perfectly at that moment.

'George! George! Hey, wait up!'

'What!' she snapped, spinning round.

Mark looked slightly taken aback and hurt by her reception, and took a step back. 'I had to talk to you...bad time?'

'What d'you want?' Get lost!

'You told me you stole that money from the school. What was it you were going to do with it?'

'Nothing, originally. Then when I came over I was going to ask you if you could help me use it for my dad – he -' her voice broke off as she choked and shook her head. 'It doesn't matter anymore.'

'Was he being blackmailed?' the boy asked, shielding his eyes as a car passed them with bright headlights.

She looked up, surprised. 'Yeah.'

'I think it was your stepmother. I just checked her out - do you know who she is?'

'Sydney Smythe?' Georgina hazarded, having no difficulty referring to her by her maiden name, having never accepted her as a Castelle in the first place. Just say it already.

'Sydney Markes.' Mark complied, 'She's a conman, Castelle. Her and her husband. She only married your dad to get at his money.' Maybe if you can't prove the attempted murder you can get her for bigamy.

Georgina remained silent for a moment as the new information sank in. 'That's why she killed him,' she breathed.

'He's dead?' No wonder you didn't want to talk. 'I'm sorry. But since she did manage to kill him...I'd be more worried about myself.'

'Nothing to worry about.' the girl's tone suddenly became icy, and the boy frowned. 'She's not going to be around that long.'

'What are you going to do?' he demanded, suddenly worried. Her father was dead, her mother was goodness knows where... 'please don't do anything stupid. Wait until you calm down, at least. She's not worth it.'

'Fine, you can come with me if you're so worried. My place first.'

'What's the matter?' Rachael asked as she worked at her computer, hearing the detective pacing behind her.

'Nothing...I don't know, it's just this guy. How does a respectable lawyer end up in that situation?'

'Hardy, it's not exactly uncommon for laywers to get blackmailed into losing a case.'

'Maybe, but – haven't you got anything yet? How long does it take to get a DNA match?'

'Too long, when you're in this kind of mood. Why don't you call – or go – to the hospital, see how he is? Don't forget, she was on her own. She might need someone.'

'I'll call,' he murmured, heading towards the telephone, 'she might not even still be there.'

After a short conversation with the doctor who answered, he put the phone down thoughtfully. 'He's dead,' he said quietly, 'poisoned. She's already gone – home, I hope.'

'And I think I know who did it too.'

Fenton moved to stand behind her and looked at the DNA results and the mug shots displayed. 'Sydney Castelle?' Uh-oh. No wonder Georgina didn't want to go home. 'I have to go,' he annnounced, 'thanks Rachael.'

'It sure is dark here,' the taxi driver remarked as Mark lingered to pay him, 'you kids sure this is the right place?'

The boy looked around. He had a point; all the neighbours' lights were out well, it is past midnight, they're probably asleep, the street was empty and even the streetlamps were off for whatever reason. As he looked round at the Castelle residence behind him, he saw that there was only one lone little lamp lit inside. If we're lucky, she's not back yet.

'No, it's the right place sir,' he answered, 'thank you.'

The taxi pulled away as he hurried after Georgina, who hadn't bothered to wait for him as she stalked up the path to the front door, her fists clenched. I've never seen her like this before. She's going to do something she's going to regret...maybe I should have called the police.

Georgina threw open the door and marched inside with Mark close behind her, who had given up trying to keep her out.

'Hello, Georgina.' her voice came out of the darkness.

The teenagers stopped in the doorway of the sitting room, looking at the dark figure next to the lamp that had spoken. She was partially blocking the light, and the shadows thrown off her reminded him of the way a storyteller holds a flashlight in front of his face to look more frightening.

His friend wasn't waiting to reminisce about campfire stories as she stalked over to the woman. 'How dare you-'

The rest of her sentence was cut off by a soft knock on the door announcing a new arrival.

'I saw the door open and I thought I'd-'

'Joe?' Mark exclaimed. Great, first George, and now he actually figures it out and turns up at what has to be the worst possible time. He looked back at the girl, then grabbed the boy's hand, intending to get him outside, but this plan was hindered by someone else.

A someone else that blocked the doorway.

A someone else that just so happened to be Sydney's real husband.

'Hi kids,' he greeted with a false smile, pulling out his gun. 'Why don't you go back in there? I think we need to have a little talk.'

'What's going on?' Joe asked as they preceded the man back into the sitting room, blinking as he snapped the overhead light on.

'You've got really bad timing, Hardy.' Mark muttered in reply.

A/N: is calling a woman a con'man' sexist? maybe I should have called her a conwoman... is that a word :P

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josie hardy