CHAPTER 2

Frank wiped the sweat off his brow. He couldn't believe how hot it was. He pulled what he hoped were the last weeds out of the flowerbed and stuffed them into the trash bag.

"You look like you could use this."

Frank turned, smiling. Standing beside him was his wife Mackenzie, her wavy light brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. She wore a light blue sleeveless T-shirt and tan shorts. She held out a tall glass of iced tea.

"Thanks," said Frank before gulping down half the glass.

"Thirsty were we?"

"And hot!" Frank pressed the cold glass against his face. "Why am I the only one sweating? Aren't you hot?"

"Yes I am…girls don't sweat, we perspire." Mackenzie playfully fluttered her eyelashes.

"You know I've heard that." Frank smiled as he watched Mackenzie take the trash bag and put it in the trash can. "So are we done working on the yard? I could use a shower then veg. on the couch."

"I have a confession to make…I've already freshened up, so I guess…you're off the hook!"

"Oh really?"

With a squeal of laughter Mackenzie ran inside the house, Frank chasing after her. He easily caught her around the waist. Turning Mackenzie so she was not facing him, Frank set his now empty glass on the end table by the sofa, then rested both hands lightly on her waist. Mackenzie tilted her chin up to give Frank easy access to her lips, letting out a soft sigh when he kissed her.

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Freshly showered and changed, Frank joined Mackenzie in the kitchen for a light lunch.

"Is Joe coming by today?"

"Probably not. He should be renewing his detective license right about now." Frank took a bite out of his chicken salad sandwich.

Mackenzie took a sip of her tea, staring intently at him. She nibbled on a potato chip. "Frank, I need to know something but I'm not sure how you'll take my question."

Noting the concerned expression on her face, Frank reached out to take her hand. "What's wrong, Mac?"

"I guess I still haven't gotten over what happened with…"

"Oh honey…I'm really sorry that you had to go through that. I should have been more honest with you about my past life…"

"I understand why you hadn't…and I don't blame you for what happened. I'm just afraid that…with your brother back home to stay and he and your dad working together that…well, that you'll want to go back…"

"I'm not going to lie and say that I don't feel a little left out. Working with Dad had always been a dream of ours. I have to admit that I feel a little jealous of Joe but…that's not for me anymore. I like…no, I love teaching. I love seeing the looks on my students' faces when they learn about a piece of history they never knew." Frank squeezed Mackenzie's hand, reassuring her that he meant what he said.

"Okay," Mackenzie let out a sigh. "But what if Joe or your father asked for your help…would you?"

"Yes, I would." Frank looked worriedly at Mackenzie, but then she smiled.

"I knew you were going to say that and I'm glad you did. As much as it scares me, especially if someone wants to get revenge…I don't want you to feel that you have to stand on the sidelines if Joe or your father were in trouble. I would never hold you back, Frank. I hope you know that."

"How did I get so lucky to have you in my life?"

"I don't know…but you still have to mow the lawn."

Frank laughed then leaned closer to give his wife a kiss.

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"I hate Mondays," Joe mumbled in frustration as he parked the rental car across the street from the police station. He had arrived at the former Longfellow Elementary school, which was now a Continuing Education building, for his test only to find out that the testing had been moved to the Bayport police station.

"Well at least I won't have far to go to renew my gun license."

"Talking to yourself, Hardy? That doesn't bode well if you're going to carry a gun."

Joe turned to find Con Riley standing behind him, a hug grin on his face.

"Hi Con – or should I say Chief?"

"Joe, if you call me 'Chief' I'll deck you! For some reason, ever since I got this promotion all my friends started to treat me differently!" Con shook his head. "What are you doing here so early anyway?"

"I'm here to get my detective license. The testing was moved over here…seems they found an asbestos problem at the school."

"I heard about that…didn't know they were closing the school already. Come on I'll help you find where they're doing the test."

The test was being held in the sub-basement. Joe took the elevator and quickly found the room. He arrived just in time, so he slid into the first empty chair he could find. Sitting next to Joe was short chunky man with thinning brown hair and a limp moustache. Sitting on top of the table was a green soft felt hat. Something about the hat struck a chord in Joe's memory. Shaking his head, the blond-haired Hardy couldn't believe it was the same hat. There must be two just alike.

"That's a very interesting hat you've got," whispered Joe.

"It belongs to my dad. He gave it to me for luck," the man whispered back. "So far it's not working very well. This is my third time up here."

"Well, you know what they say…the third time's the charm!"

"I hope so." The man shifted in his seat as the test was being passed out.

"Junior, I see you're back…again." The man distributing the tests sneered down at Junior. Joe recognized him; he had been a sergeant with the Bayport police.

"Hi, Sergeant Owens," greeted Joe.

"Joe…I thought you looked familiar! How are you? What are you doing here? I thought you were working with the Justice Department."

"I was…did. I had enough and decided to come back home. Dad and I are going to open up our own agency."

"Just you and Fenton – what about Frank?"

"Excuse me, but did you say his name is Joe? As in Joe Hardy?" asked the chunky man.

"That's right Junior, this is Joe Hardy. Joe, allow me to introduce you to Junior…Oscar Smuff, Jr." Sergeant Owens grinned wickedly. "I'd be careful while taking your test, Joe. Junior's eyes tend to…wander."

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Two hours later Joe was at the gun range, still reeling from finding out that Oscar Smuff actually had a son. He couldn't wait to tell Frank and his dad! Con was checking Joe's score.

"You're really good with that gun," said Con. "Oh, before I forget again…there's a new city policy. You need to have a physical. If you want to use your regular doctor that's fine but I need the results before I can hand out your detective license."

"No problem, Con. I have to take one for the medical insurance that Dad wants us to use when we get the agency started. I'll just ask if I can have a copy."

"Is Frank going to…?"

"No, he's going to stick with teaching. I'd like him to come work with me and dad, but…" Joe shrugged. "Say Con – did you know Oscar Smuff has a son?"

"You mean Oscar Junior? Yeah, I found out the first time he failed his test. 'Daddy' came in screaming that his son was treated unfairly!"

"That sounds like Smuff."

"If you thought Smuff was clueless…let's just say the apple didn't fall far from the tree!" Con rolled his eyes upward.

"You didn't tell Frank about him did you?"

"No, I don't think so…I don't think Fenton knows either but I could be wrong."

"Well I hope not! I can't wait to tell them! See you later, Con!" Joe sketched a wave, cackling with glee.

END OF CHAPTER

Disclaimer: The Hardy Boys are owned by Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer syndicate and are only being temporarily borrowed for a little run. They will be returned in … mostly … 1 piece when this is done.

A reminder: Please see Copagirl's profile (which I promise to add more information to as I have a chance to do so).

Enjoy!