Author's Note: This is a little low-key after the last chapter, but I wasn't up to writing the confrontations and so I left them in the planning stages and a little bit of downtime is due the detectives, right?

Also... not sure about the charges and jail times. A little internet research got me those, but how accurate that is... debatable.

Plans to Get through the Night

"I think someone owes me an explanation," Carson Drew began, getting everyone's attention on him as he did. "There are an awful lot of people in my house all of a sudden, and I don't remember being told I was having this much company."

Nancy winced as she saw her father in the doorway. All of their voices must have woken him as well, and she found herself in the uncomfortable place of having to own up to her lies of omission. She knew better than to do it, but she'd just wanted a bit more time to investigate before she admitted to him how bad things were with Frank. She could always say she thought Hannah already told him, right?

"I'm Fenton Hardy," the boys' father said, and Carson nodded. She figured he had already recognized the man from the newspaper articles and his file, but he let Fenton go on without interruption. "My sons Frank and Joe. I haven't gotten all the details yet, but I believe I have your daughter to thank for Frank's life."

Carson frowned, turning to Nancy. She swallowed, knowing this story was overdue. "I told you Barron implicated Frank in his attack—and I'd already had a few... encounters with him that made me a little suspicious. Turns out they were about his father and the situation he and Joe were in, but they looked like something else at the time. I followed Frank to his foster home, and when Bess told me how upset Joe was about Frank missing their scheduled meeting... I took a look around the store and found Frank. I got him out and did what I could for his injuries."

"We now think that Frank's social worker may have put him in the path of a killer deliberately," George added, shaking her head. She still seemed pretty angry about that, but Nancy knew how strongly George felt about bullies, and this was worse than leaving a couple kids in the hands of bully. Marasco wasn't just abusive. He was a killer, and Frank wasn't the only one who could have died at his hands—Bess had been in his grasp and Joe, too.

"We'll have to see about her in the morning," Fenton said, shaking his head. "Right now, we can't do much. I know we'll have to go to the authorities, but I wish we had more to go on. King's books aren't enough to stop any of this, and even with what happened to Frank—"

"First degree assault could carry a term of twenty years," Joe said, but Frank just shook his head. "Well, it could. It should. He could go away for a while."

"More like... third... and five years at most," Frank muttered, closing his eyes.

Nancy winced, but she did almost agree. Since Frank had been in a foster home, it would be treated more like a domestic assault, which did fall under a lesser degree in assault charges, one that as Frank said would only carry about five years in jail.

"But he threatened Bess, too," Joe said. "If George hadn't hit him with her car—"

"Marasco will... use that against... us," Frank said, shifting in the bed. "Attorney... twist it around."

"I'm afraid I'd agree with that," Carson said. "A good defense attorney will try and make Marasco out to be the victim. He'd claim Frank started the fight. Marasco may have hurt him, but in defense. Then with George hitting him with a car..."

Bess groaned. "What are we going to do? If Marasco gets away with this, he'll get out and come after us all. This time he will kill Frank."

"Not if you we can tie him to the body," Nancy said, and everyone stared at her. She met Frank's gaze. "You were sure that you saw blood in Marasco's store, right? You suspected he'd just finished killing someone. That blood won't have gone away. If we had a body for the police to tie to Marasco's store, add in what you know of when that blood was on the floor... Maybe even get a forensic anthropologist give expert testimony about wounds a man like Marasco would leave behind on a body... Then maybe we could get him for this murder."

"Sounds logical," Carson said, though with an edge in his voice. Her father was not happy about any of this.

"Only one problem with that," Joe said, looking at his brother. "We have no idea who Marasco killed, do we?"

"No," Frank answered, hand on his side as he tried to ride out a bad wave of pain. He hadn't seen anyone at Marasco's store that could have been the victim. He'd forgotten to ask Nancy about it, but he didn't think that she would have seen the victim, not when the body was already gone by the time Frank walked into the store room. Now that they suspected Hausler, it seemed more likely that Marasco had never been married, so it wasn't likely to have been his wife—though he'd avoided the folder on Marasco when looking over his father's files, so he wasn't sure. "I didn't see a body... or hear any voices. I walked... into the backroom... saw blood... tried to leave. Marasco grabbed me. Rest... you know."

Carson Drew looked about as unhappy as Frank's father did. Still, Fenton wasn't a world famous detective for nothing. He met the other man's gaze and held it. "I think we can both agree that we want to get the kids out of this mess without anyone else getting hurt—"

"Dad, no," Joe said, shaking his head. "You're not going to turn yourself in just to get these guys off Frank. Then you'll end up dead, and we'll be back where we started from—only worse."

Frank poked his brother. "Mom and Gertrude... alive... just... out of contact because... Dad asked."

Joe made a face. "Well, on the one hand, that's a relief, but on the other hand, it pisses me off."

Fenton nodded. "I can't blame either of you for being upset, but we will get through this. And I wasn't talking about announcing I was alive, not yet, anyway."

Nancy turned to him. "You want to confront the social worker first. If she admits that she put Frank there on purpose, you could get her to roll over with what she knows, and if that isn't enough, she might even agree to a sting operation."

"And there is still the option of Mr. King," Bess added. "Mrs. King has health problems and he's got two kids. Maybe he would be willing to testify if he can get witness protection and help for her."

"I don't know," Joe said. "He seems pretty selfish to me."

Frank lifted a hand, and Nancy took the hint. "And there's also Barron. He accused Frank, which means he's involved somehow—we suspect a gambling problem. He's also scared—someone did attack him in his lab—so he might be persuaded to talk. We have more than one option here, and even if they're not enough on their own, maybe in combination, it's enough."

"I certainly hope so," Drew said, giving Frank a look. "You should be in the hospital."

"Fine," Frank said, and just about everyone snorted in disbelief.

"I agree with Mr. Drew," Fenton said. "You should be in the hospital. I understand why you didn't risk it before, but as soon as we can, we are getting you to a doctor."

Frank rolled his eyes. If this was going to kill him, it would already have done it. He would like to speed up the healing of his ribs and make it easier to breathe, but no doctor was going to fix it miraculously. He just needed more time.

"Seems like someone doesn't like that idea."

Fenton looked over at Drew. "Well, both of my sons are pretty darn stubborn, and neither one of them has liked the doctor much, not since they were little and getting shots. It just got worse when they got older and started getting in real trouble. It's a good thing their mother isn't here. Seeing Frank like this would take a few years off her life."

Frank managed a smile. "And if Aunt Gertrude was here..."

"Don't remind me," Fenton said with a grimace. "I love my sister, but she's... something else. She's not going to let me forget this anytime soon, that's for sure."

"None of us will, I suspect," Drew said, looking around the room. "Well, I can't offer much more than the couch since our guest room is already occupied, but you're welcome to it, Mr. Hardy. Since there's nothing we can do until morning, we may as well get some rest. Then we can start putting all of these plans into motion."

"I agree," Fenton said, and Frank watched the two of them leave the room.

"Our fathers are getting along," Joe said to Nancy, frowning. "I'm not sure I like that very much."

Nancy shrugged. "It might be for the best. Dad has connections your father can use to help us set up the various stings we'll need, and we'll have this resolved soon."

"Besides, if Nancy's dad and your dad didn't get along, that would make things very awkward for her and Frank," Bess teased, elbowing Joe. His eyes widened, and Frank bit back a curse. Nothing had happened between him and Nancy besides some strange almost flirting, but knowing his brother, Joe would never let him hear the end of it.

"This is the best breakfast I've ever eaten," Joe said, stuffing another bit of pancake into his mouth. Bess smiled at him, while George looked like she thought he was a pig at best. He didn't mind. He wasn't really out to impress George. Impressing Bess, on the other hand, he liked doing, and it was almost too easy. "Thank you, Hannah."

"You're welcome," Hannah told him, putting another stack on his plate and making herself his new favorite person. "Go ahead and eat up."

Joe did. He'd been looking forward to more of Hannah's cooking. The woman was amazing, better than most people he knew, though if he said that to his mother or aunt, they'd both be pretty upset. He didn't have any plans to tell them—he wasn't that stupid—but he knew he would be comparing every dish he got to what Hannah would have made. The only shame of it was that Frank couldn't enjoy any of this. That thought that almost made him lose his appetite. "I just wish Frank was up to eating with the rest of us."

Hannah clucked her tongue, chiding him. "Don't worry about your brother. I'll see to it he gets plenty of food, just like the rest of you. We'll take good care of him."

"I know," Joe said. He took another bite of his food. It was good, and things were looking up. Their father was alive, they had a plan—three of them, actually—and Frank was doing better. Some of the bruises looked worse, but that was how healing worked, and Joe was trying not to let that get to him. "I am going to miss this cooking when we go home."

Bess frowned. "I hadn't really thought about that before. You will be going back to Bayport, won't you? That's half a country away."

"Relax, Bess," Nancy said, touching her friend's arm. "They're not leaving this instant. For one thing, Frank isn't ready to move—and definitely not to fly. For another, I don't think any of the Hardys would leave before arrests were made. There's still time to work things out—like how to keep in contact."

"I think Bess might be afraid of the long distance part," George said. She looked at Joe. "What about you? You think you can handle it?"

Joe smiled. "For the right girl, definitely."

"And is Bess the right girl?" George pressed. Joe got the feeling she was rather protective of her cousin. "Because if she's not, you better admit it right now. If not, and you break her heart—"

"You'll run me over?"

George smiled. "Maybe."