Disclaimer: I do not own the Hardy Boys or any of the book characters.

Thanks once again to Wendylouwho10 for reading over this for me!

Rating/Setting: Rating is T. Setting is kinda blue spine and AU. Joe and Iola are 16, Frank and Callie are 17.

Authors' Notes: Thanks to those of you reviewing! You're pretty sparse, so I wanted to say thank you!

Chapter Eleven

Quite a few people took notice when the Hardy brothers and their dates entered the gym. Frank's black suit with white shirt and red satin tie looked decidedly elegant with Callie's dress causing many to think they were the best looking couple at the dance. Joe's less formal tan dress pants with white shirt, black tie, and navy overcoat gave him an Oliver Queen look that suited him well. Iola's dark sky blue dress went well with his color scheme and as she had planned, matched his eyes perfectly.

Joe was still in a bit of shock that Iola was with him at the dance. Using his crutches, he moved to a spot near the wall where he placed them carefully. Turning to Iola, he said, "Can't very well dance with those."

Iola grinned and then frowned, "But you're sure your leg is okay."

After pulling off his coat, Joe draped it over a chair back at a table nearby. "The doctor has okayed me doing non-strenuous activity. I think slow-dancing fits the doctor's orders." Hearing no more concerns from Iola, he took her hand and headed onto the dance floor. As he took her in his arms, he closed his eyes and rested his cheek against her hair. Inevitable flitted through his mind.

.**********.

Joe was feeling on top of the world when he and Frank made it home. His leg was a little stiff and he was limping slightly but any pain was insignificant.

Laura and Fenton watched the boys as they went upstairs to their rooms. "You didn't tell them," Laura observed.

Fenton kept his eyes on the retreating backs of his sons. "No. They were both in such good moods. Obviously the dance was successful and I see no reason to tell them bad news that they can't do anything about."

Laura wrapped her arms around Fenton. "This just proves you have a kind heart beating inside that tough investigator's exterior."

Returning the embrace, Fenton gave Laura a soft kiss on the lips. "Don't tell anyone."

"My lips are-" Her words were silenced by her husband's kiss. "Sealed," she replied breathily once he finished the kiss.

Fenton laughed and held her tight.

"You don't think anything else is going to happen to them regarding this case, do you?"

He kept Laura in his embrace as he replied. "I hope not, but the robber knows Joe's name and mine. It would be easy to figure out where we live. He hasn't shown any inclination to kill anyone or attempted anymore kidnappings. But you know me. I can't rule out anything." He wished he could tell her that everything would be all right. But until the man in the black jacket was behind bars he couldn't do that.

.**********.

The following Saturday morning the boys were having cereal at the table and talking about the previous evening. Joe had shared with his parents that he and Iola were now dating and the mood was jovial between the boys but they could tell something was bothering their parents.

"Is something going on, dad?" Frank asked pushing his empty cereal bowl to the side.

Fenton refilled his coffee mug and turned to lean back against the counter, holding his cup in both hands. "I'm afraid there was another robbery last night." Fenton noticed the immediate tensing of his younger son.

Joe quickly swallowed the bite of toast that he had just taken. "Was there a stabbing?"

Fenton nodded. "Right bicep. The police aren't sure if it's because he wiped the blood on the right sleeve of his previous victim or just a coincidence. He wiped the blood from this one on the left bicep."

"Was there any mention of Cupid?" Frank asked with a careful glance toward his brother.

"Not of Cupid but of Hardy."

"What?!" Both boys asked at the same time.

"The robber in the black jacket told the victim that he's still looking for Hardy." This concerned Fenton. He had been hoping that once Joe was out of the way, that all the trash talking would have just been that: trash. Over and done with, but the robber seemed to want him to continue to look.

"Were there any other clues? Any leads? Any reason why they chose the restaurant they chose?" Joe was spitting out the questions quickly.

"Unfortunately not. However, the list of knife purchasers has almost been exhausted. I just have two to go."

"You'd tell us if you found something?" Joe asked.

"Of course," Fenton replied.

"Is there anything we can do?" Frank asked.

"Just be careful. There's no reason to think that the robbers will do anything against us. But since he has brought my name up again, I'm just asking that you stick together when you're out and be vigilant."

"We will, dad," Frank said. Joe remained silent.

.**********.

Tuesday, Fenton called Detective Collins. "I've got a lead."

"Which one?"

"Claude Eriksen. He's currently in Vermont. He's moved five times since he bought the knife twenty years ago which is why it's been a little difficult tracking him down."

"So what else did you learn?" Collins asked.

"He no longer has the knife. He gave the knife to his son, Adam. He's currently estranged from his son and doesn't know where he is, but he did tell me that he has hazel eyes and is left-handed."

Collins was silent on the other end for several seconds. "Did you probe further?"

Fenton bristled slightly. "No. That's why I'm calling you. I told Eriksen that the BPD had a few questions for him and I got the best times for you to call." This time Fenton paused for a moment. "I hope you'll do me the courtesy of letting me sit in when you call."

"It's the least I can do." There was a pause. "It's late in the day; did he say we could call back tonight?"

"No. He's available tomorrow morning though, 8:00 a.m."

"Be at the station at 7:30 and we'll make the call together. I'm going to run a check on Claude and Adam Eriksen and you can check the file tomorrow morning when you get here."

"I'll be there," Fenton responded and hung up. He wasn't waiting for the report tomorrow morning. He'd do some checking on his own through his sources and get a jump on things. The boys were home and doing homework. He wanted to get some information before he went to them with the limited amount that he had.

An hour later a knock sounded on his door.

"Dad?"

Fenton clicked off the page he was on and turned to the door. "Yes, Frank?" Frank's eyes went from his father's face to the screen showing only the desktop. Fenton knew that he hadn't fooled his son.

"Mom says that it's time to eat." His eyes went back to the screen. "Did you find something?"

Fenton paused and that was all that it took for Frank to be certain.

"You said you'd tell us," Frank said quietly.

"And I plan to. I just have limited information right now…." His voice trailed off.

"It's not good is it?"

Fenton closed his eyes and leaned back in the desk chair swiveling it slightly. "No. But then I didn't expect it to be great news." Opening his eyes, he continued. "Ask your mother to fix me a plate and bring it here." He held up his hand. "Not you or Joe. Eat. Give me an hour and I'll talk with both of you."

"Okay," Frank said and left the room closing the door behind him.

Fenton spun the chair around to the desk once again and clicked on the minimized window. A window sprung to life on the screen and Fenton stared at the mug shot of one Adam Eriksen. Twenty-five years old with two convictions: one involving a stabbing and another for petty theft. There were also several arrests for burglary and one for stalking but all lacked the evidence to prosecute. It was noted in a report from last year that Eriksen practically taunted the police indicating that he thought their skills were lacking.

It made sense now that Eriksen wanted to put his skills up against Fenton. The detective steepled his fingers in front of him as he looked at the screen. Eriksen hadn't counted on an extremely observant sixteen year old detective. It wasn't Fenton's skills that had given them this information; it was Joe's. Thank God Eriksen doesn't know that, Fenton thought with some relief.

Fenton looked away from the screen when a knock sounded again at the door. This time it opened to the concerned face of Laura Hardy who was carrying a tray of food.

"Frank said you wanted a tray in here." She sat it on the corner of the table. "I didn't fix you much." She reached over to put a hand on his shoulder. "When you closet yourself up you usually don't have much of an appetite." Her eyes went to the man on the screen. "Is that the man that kidnapped Joe?"

"Yes."

"You're going to find him and make sure he doesn't hurt our boys." It was a statement and not a question and Fenton smiled.

"I'm doing my best. With Joe's information we have a face, a name, and a trail to follow. I will do everything in my power to keep our boys safe."

Laura smiled. "I know you will. Now eat some and please call the boys in as soon as you can. Their restlessness is going to drive me crazy."

Fenton nodded and picked up a sandwich and turned back to his computer. "I'll call them in soon."

.**********.

Thirty minutes later, Fenton called Frank and Joe in. The two teenagers sat in the standard stiff office chairs that Fenton had in his home office. After providing them with the background information, Joe leaned forward and asked, "Why didn't all the charges stick? How did he get off?"

"Only circumstantial evidence and in some cases he had an alibi."

Frank snorted. "Probably somebody he paid off."

"Or an accomplice," Joe added.

Frank's eyes lit up. "Yeah, maybe the same guy he's with here!"

"I've considered that," Fenton said. "I'm going to look up the young man listed as his alibi and see where he is. But first, I'll meet with Collins to call Adam Eriksen's father."

"And then what?" Joe asked as he looked over at the picture on the screen.

"This is still a police investigation and I'll see what Detective Collins suggests." When the brothers went to interject, Fenton raised his hand. "I won't do anything to jeopardize this investigation. I'll listen to what Eriksen says and then hear Collins out before going off on my own. End of discussion."

"Yes, sir," Frank replied.

"Joe?"

"Sure, dad," Joe said but his eyes remained on the picture of Adam Eriksen.