J.M.J.

Author's note: Thank you for continuing to read! Thank you especially to everyone who reviewed the previous chapter: DusktoDawn21, Candylou, ErinJordan, max2013, Bkworm4life4, and angelicalkiss! I really appreciate your support and comments.

Chapter XVI

The Broken Key

"It's only been a week, and this has already been the weirdest school year ever," Sally Marsh declared as she dramatically sprawled on Callie Shaw's bed and covered her eyes with one arm. "First, I get suckered into joining a cult and then some creep starts stalking me."

"I don't see why the police haven't caught him yet," Iola commented. She, Callie, and Sally had gathered in Callie's room to talk. "He sounds clumsy about it."

"They probably will if he shows up again," Sally said. "As a matter of fact, I guess I've only actually seen him twice. But I feel like he's following me all the time."

"But I thought you said he barely even tried to hide the other times you saw him," Callie reminded her. "If he was following you all the time, I would have thought you would have seen him more than that."

"Well, I guess that is a point," Sally conceded. She shivered. "Let's not talk about it. It's too creepy. Anyway, there's other things to think about. Like, have either of you ever been in love and he didn't even know you were alive?"

Callie and Iola glanced furtively at each other while Sally still had her eyes covered. Sally was a friend and they liked her well enough, but she tended toward the boy-crazy side and that got annoying sometimes.

"We've all had one-sided crushes," Callie pointed out mildly.

"I don't mean a crush," Sally insisted. "I mean being really, truly in love."

"Well, then, no," Callie said. "I've always felt that you had to actually know a person to really love them, and it's kind of hard to get to know someone if they don't know you're alive."

"Hmm. Fair point," Sally conceded. "But you've barely even ever dated anybody, Callie. Why not?"

Callie reddened. Crushes and love and all that sort of thing wasn't something she was very comfortable talking about to anyone. "Well, um…I don't know."

Sally sat up. "Oooh. There is someone, isn't there? But he's dating somebody else. Let me guess. I'll bet it's Jerry Gilroy."

"Uh, no, and let's change the subject," Callie said, feeling partially suffocated. She'd hate to have Sally guess right and then tell somebody and have the same thing happen to her as had happened to Iola. It would be extra ridiculous, considering…Well, it would be ridiculous.

"No!" Sally protested. "I'll get it right. Just you wait and see. But I need to think about it carefully. In the meantime, how about you, Iola? Have you talked to Joe yet?"

It was Iola's turn to redden this time. "No. I'm starting to think he's really not that interested in talking about it to me. Which…Ugh. I don't know what I'm going to do, besides strangle Lisa one of these days. You know a lot of the guys at school, Sally. Do I really have some kind of reputation for being a flirt? Do you think that's why Joe isn't interested in me?"

"You? A flirt?" Sally scoffed. "That Lisa needs her head examined. Everyone knows there's only one guy for you."

"They do?" Iola asked, her face paling a little. She wasn't sure which was worse.

"I think most of the girls in school don't really care," Callie interjected.

"Oh, come on, Cal," Sally replied. "How can you be a teenage girl and be so naïve about what teenage girls care about?"

"Well, maybe it's because I don't think this is really helping anyone," Callie said. "It's none of anyone's business but Iola's who she's dating or wants to date, just like it's none of anyone's business but mine whether I currently have a crush on anyone. So, could we just get off the subject of boys?"

"Okay," Sally agreed. "Sorry. I didn't mean to upset either of you. I just…Well, okay, if we're getting off the subject of boys, let's get off it. What else do you want to talk about?"

"I don't know," Callie replied. "Plans and dreams for the future?"

"My plans and dreams for the future definitely involve a certain tall, blond, muscular, ridiculously handsome boy," Sally began, "but I have been thinking of a few other things."

"Oh, really?" Iola asked skeptically.

"Really," Sally assured her. "I'm going to be a journalist. I'm going to reform the world of journalism so that it's just about telling and not writing sensational news or anything like that. I can see it now: Sally Marsh-Hooper, the greatest journalist of the twenty-first century."

"Sounds great," Callie told her. "We could definitely use someone to reform the world of journalism."

"Okay, now you, Callie," Sally said. "You're going to marry your mysterious crush and what else?"

Callie chuckled nervously. "I seriously doubt my mysterious crush would ever marry me."

Sally waved her hand. "This is dream time. Anything can happen. You know what they say: Shoot for the moon, because even if you miss, you'll land among the stars."

"Okay," Callie said. "I guess I could dream about it, but I still doubt it would ever happen. As for other plans and dreams…I want to be an artist, but I know that's not very practical either, and I just don't know what else I'd even like doing."

"What did we just say about practicality?" Sally asked. "Seriously, you two, the more impractical the dreams, the better. If you want to be an artist, you do what it takes to become an artist. Okay, now, Iola, complete and total honesty and no worrying about impracticality."

"Okay," Iola said, squaring her shoulders. "I can do that. I want to be a dancer and travel all over the world performing. And even when I'm not dancing, I still want to travel. I want to see everything there is to see the world. Not just the big, touristy places, either. I want to see all of the hidden and unknown beautiful things there are in the world."

"That's more like it." Sally nodded approvingly. "We're all going to be famous and successful and—even though we'd be fine on our own—we're going to marry our true loves and we'll all live happily ever after."

She got up to whirl around in emphasis, but she paused as she glanced out the window midway through her whirl. "There he is! It's him!"

"Who?" Iola asked, jumping up to look out the window.

"My stalker!" Sally said.

Callie joined the other two at the window. There was only one person on the street below, so there could be no doubt who Sally was indicating, but both Callie and Iola froze in confusion. They knew this man.

"There's got to be some kind of mistake here," Callie said. "That's no stalker. That's Oscar Smuff."

"He's a friend of yours?" Sally asked incredulously.

"Well, no," Callie admitted. "As a matter of fact, he's, well…"

"He's super annoying," Iola interjected. "He's some kind of wannabe detective who's always trying to interfere in the Hardys' cases. I remember one time…Anyway, he might be a weirdo, but he's not that kind of a weirdo. There must be something more going on."

"I don't think so," Sally insisted. "I'm calling the police." She took out her cell phone and began dialing the number.

"I'm going to find out what he's doing," Iola announced.

She dashed out of the room with Callie close behind her. As soon as they were outside, both girls began calling, "Mr. Smuff! Mr. Smuff!"

The wannabe detective started at the sound of his name and turned to look at the girls in alarm. He was a short man in his mid-thirties and not in very good shape. Nor was he particularly inconspicuous, since he was dressed in a tweed coat and hat, despite the current fashions and the late summer heat.

He frantically waved his hands at the two girls. "Shh! Do you want to give me away?" he hissed as soon as they were closed enough to here.

"Give you away?" Callie asked. "Are you following someone?"

"Yes," Smuff whispered, his voice still agitated, although it had a touch of pride in it now, too. "It just so happens to be a suspect in a very important case. Now, go away, before you call attention to me."

Callie and Iola glanced at one another.

"This suspect wouldn't happen to be a girl about our age, would it?" Iola asked.

"A girl?" Oscar Smuff repeated. "No. It's that guy over there." He pointed at a man down the street who was looking straight at the trio. Smuff muttered something under his breath before he added, "Now look what you did! He's seen us!"

The man locked eyes with the girls. Most of the time, Smuff's "suspects" were innocent bystanders stuck in a case of mistaken identity by the incompetent amateur detective. However, any idea that such was the case with this man was quickly evaporated when the man turned on his heel and started to run.

"Hey, stop!" Iola shouted, impulsively taking off after him.

Callie tended to be more cautious by nature, but she only hesitated a second or two longer. She couldn't let her best friend go charging into possible danger without back-up. Smuff began running as well, but the two younger and more athletic girls soon outpaced him. Even Callie couldn't begin to keep up with Iola, who kept in excellent shape between her dancing lessons and being on the Bayport High cross-country team. Iola was the only one who started closing the gap on their quarry, who seemed to be unsure exactly how to proceed as he would momentarily hesitate at a street corner.

The strange man made a right turn and continued down the street. Iola rounded the corner a few seconds later and was just in time to see the man getting into a car. He paused and looked at her as he did and then he jumped inside, but Iola saw something fall as he did, though she could tell whether the man had dropped it or it had fallen out of the car. Whichever it was, the chase was over as the car sped off. Iola knew that even if she and Callie ran back to get Callie's car, they didn't have a chance of catching the suspect now. All she could do was memorize the license number and go to pick up whatever had been dropped.

She found the item easily. It was a keychain with one single key on it that had been broken in half. She held it for a few seconds, panting to try to recover her breath, as she wondered what the point of this broken key was.

HBHBHBHBHB

At the same time, in another part of Bayport, Joe was still struggling to catch his breath after his close encounter with a criminal. By this time, the police had arrived and had asked most of their questions. It was Captain Olaf who was doing most of the questioning, while Officer Con Riley was recording the interview.

"And after you tackled Sam Radley to the ground, what did you do?" Olaf asked.

"We landed in the shrubbery by the porch," Joe explained. "Almost as soon as the shots happened, though, I heard a car roar off. I figured it was the assassin's, so I looked up and the car was gone. Then all three of us got in the house as quick as we could. Mom and Aunt Gertrude were already there, since they had been working inside the house."

Olaf nodded. "Anyone else have anything to add?"

Everyone in the room replied in the negative. In addition to Joe, the group gathered there included Laura, Gertrude, Sam, and Mario. The shooting had happened nearly half an hour ago by now, but Sam was the only one who really looked like he was getting over the surprise.

"I've got a question," Con Riley spoke up. "How did you know the assassin was aiming at Sam, Joe? Couldn't he have just as easily been aiming at Mario, or even at you?"

Joe blinked. "Yeah, I guess so. It was just a hunch, a lucky guess. I'm glad I was right."

"Were you, though?" Riley asked. "When you shouted at Sam, you might have startled the assassin and made him miss his aim. Let's take another look at where the bullets hit."

The whole group went outside, and the officers instructed the three witnesses to stand where they had been when the shots had been fired. Several other officers were still outside and helped with the experiment, including taking measurements based on approximately where the car had been parked and keeping the curious neighbors out of the way.

They were still in the middle of this when Frank came home. "What's going on here?" he asked, hurrying up to the porch.

Joe explained, much to the annoyance of Olaf, who was trying to keep the teenager in place so that they could continue the measurements.

"Wouldn't it be just as easy to put a mark where each of them were standing?" Laura suggested.

"Yeah, well, I guess so," Olaf grumbled. "Go get some tape, Riley."

Once this was done, the Hardys, along with Sam and Mario, were able to stand back and talk more freely.

"I certainly missed a lot," Frank commented. "This blows Dad's theory that Black Rose is just after something Mario has."

"If it's something they think I know, they're wrong," Mario insisted. "I don't know anything. Even if I did, after fourteen years, they'd be a little late in trying to silence me."

"That's a good point," Sam conceded.

"If you ask me," Gertrude interjected, "this killer is after exactly what he or she said they were after in that note they left in poor Mitch's apartment. They're out for revenge."

"Hold on," Frank objected. "That doesn't quite hold up, either. If they're really out for revenge, they would have made it more personal, like they did with Mitch. This was more like an attempted hit than an attempted revenge killing."

"Besides that, I didn't get a good look at the person in the car—honestly, I didn't see them at all—but it couldn't have been Evangeline Moretti or Eva Moriare or whatever she's calling herself now," Joe said. "She was too far away to aim and fire a shot based on sound and anyway, she couldn't have driven away then. So, even if this is about revenge, we're back to the same old problem: who would want revenge on Dad, Sam, Mitch, and Mario? I could see Dad and Mitch or Dad and Sam, since they've worked on cases together, but Sam and Mitch have never worked a case together, and Mario doesn't fit in with any of them."

"It has to be the Moretti case," Sam insisted. "That's the only thing all four of us have in common. I'll admit, I was banking pretty heavily on Evangeline being our culprit, but Joe's right. She couldn't have fired those shots, and I don't know that she'd hire someone to do it for her. It's not impossible that she might have hired someone, but that takes a lot of money, way more money than a kid who grew up in the foster system and then checked out as soon as possible—a disabled kid, no less—would be likely to have."

Laura tapped a finger against her chin. "There's another factor in all this, too. Black Rose is definitely in the area and up to something. What if they're working with Evangeline? She has some ties to them, in a way. It's not impossible that she could have made some deal with them."

"That's a good idea, Mom," Joe said. "I'll bet you're onto something."

The conversation was cut short by Joe's cell phone ringing. He froze when he saw that the call was from Iola. With everything going on, he had put off the inevitable talk he would have to have with her all week, although he couldn't really use the excuse that he didn't have time. This phone call was probably to tell him that Iola was done waiting and the conversation was going to have to happen now.

"I'd better answer this," he said, backing away from the others. "Hello?" He spoke fairly quietly. He didn't particularly want anyone to overhear.

"Hi, Joe, it's me," Iola said, sounding excited. "You'll never guess what just happened to us. I think we found a clue to that whole School of Thought-Black Rose thing."

"What?" Joe asked. This was not at all what he had been expecting. "What happened?"

Iola told the story, ending with who she had found the broken key that the suspect had dropped. "We talked it over with the police when they got here, which didn't take very long since Sally had called them. We all came to the conclusion that the guy Smuff was following was probably the one who was actually following Sally—of course, Oscar Smuff had that figured all along, according to him—and it would be just coincidental if he wasn't mixed up in School of Thought. Besides that, Callie and I both got a pretty good look at him, and we think he's the same guy who was heading up the School of Thought meeting."

"What happened to the key?" Joe asked.

"We turned it over to the police. There wasn't really anything else we could do with it. But I did take a picture of it first. I can text it to you."

"That'd be great," Joe agreed. "In fact…Aw, I almost forgot. We're still technically off the case. Although after what happened today, Mom and Dad might agree that we're really not in any more danger working on the case than sitting around at home. Text me the picture anyway. Worst case scenario, I can give it to Dad at least."

"Sure," Iola agreed. "I'm not exactly sure how what happened is going to convince your parents that you and Frank are in any danger, though."

"Oh, yeah, actually I was talking about something else. You're not the only one who had some excitement today."