Chapter I

"I can't believe you guys come all the way to San Francisco and order a burger and fries, just like we were back in Bayport."

"Good burger and fries." corrected Joe Hardy around a mouthful of fries. He glanced over at the plate in front of pretty blonde Callie Shaw. "What's that mess you're eating?"

"Crab salad and sourdough. San Francisco is known for its sea food and its sourdough bread."

"Among other things." Frank Hardy, Joe's older brother and Callie's boyfriend, was thumbing through a guide book while sipping his soda. "We could see Ghirardelli Center tomorrow. Good shopping. That should please one of us." he smiled at Callie.

Joe groaned. "Great. What else?"

"There's Candlestick Park. That should please you. It's in the rest of Golden Gate Park, though, so that'll probably call for a whole day. There's a lake and a Japanese Garden -

"What about beaches?"

"There's a beach, too. Though I don't know how warm it'll be."

"Night life?"

"Haven't gotten there yet."

Joe held out his hand. "Let me look."

"When I'm done. This Science Museum looks interesting."

Joe rolled his eyes. Callie shook her head. "You know, Joe, there's no point in going to San Francisco if you're not going to see San Francisco. The beaches and the dance clubs probably aren't that different from anywhere else."

"Easy for you to say. You brought a date. I didn't."

"It says here you can get a nice panoramic view of San Francisco from Coit Tower." Frank continued, oblivious.

Joe rolled his eyes again. "A dull date, but a date."

Callie reached for one of Frank's fries. "Shows you don't know everything about him." Callie knew that Joe had recently broken up with his steady girlfriend, Vanessa Bender, and was feeling at loose ends. Iola Morton, his first love, had died in an explosion from a terrorist bomb, and Callie sometimes wondered if Joe would ever love anyone again the way he had loved her. Of course, Joe and Vanessa were both quick tempered and might still patch things up, but seeing her and Frank together must make him feel lonely sometimes. So she added kindly, "Besides, there's no reason you can't meet some cute girl in an Art Gallery or on a harbor tour. Girls love that stuff."

Joe, having finished his own fries, also reached for one of Frank's. He chewed thoughtfully. "You've got a point."

"I know what you guys would enjoy." continued Callie, reaching for another fry. "A trip to Alcatraz. Since you're so into crime busting. How often do the ferries leave - Frank!"

Frank dropped the guide book with a start and half rose, glancing around rapidly. Joe had also leapt to his feet, pushing his chair back and taking a defensive stance. "What? Where - ?"

But Callie was staring down at her palm. "Your bracelet!"

"Argh! Is that all?" Joe resumed his chair. "For pete's sake, Callie! My heart!"

"It fell on the floor. You could have lost it."

"Oh." Frank's ears reddened. "The catch is loose. I haven't had a chance to get it fixed. With one thing and another."

Callie knew that "one thing and another" referred to the boys' frequent involvement in detective work. Lately, it seemed as though they'd been involved in one mystery after another, and had decided to come to San Francisco for some rest and relaxation. Their father, Fenton Hardy, a private investigator of international renown, had arranged for them to perform a courier service to make their airfare more affordable, and Callie's ticket had been a gift from her parents.

Callie laid the bracelet out on the table. She had given it to Frank for his birthday. It was an identification bracelet, with "Frank" engraved on one side, and "Love, Callie" on the other. Frank wasn't really very comfortable wearing it, but he knew it meant a lot to Callie, so he bit the bullet.

Callie examined the clasp. "Probably broke it in a fist fight with some thugs. I know a few tricks to hold it until you can get it repaired. Hand me that butter knife, will you?" Frank silently handed her the knife. Joe grinned at his elder brother's discomfiture.

"There you go." Callie tested the clasp, then slipped it around Frank's wrist and fastened it. Frank's ears were crimson. Joe's grin broadened.

"That's right, Callie. Can't have him wandering around loose."

Callie tossed her blonde hair back and gave him a frosty look. Frank pointedly picked up the guide book again and checked the table of contents. "Alcatraz. Let's see."

Joe reached for another fry. "That sounds pretty cool."

"Looks like the ferries leave every fifteen minutes from Pier 41." He absently swatted Joe's hand away from his fries and picked one up himself. "Pier 41 is at Fisherman's Wharf, near Ghirardelli Center. We could do both of those tomorrow. And look, there's something about a fort - cool it, Joe, you had your own fries."

"I'm a growing boy, I need a lot of fuel." Joe struck a weightlifter's pose to show off his linebacker's physique. Though at six foot he was an inch shorter than Frank, he was a good ten

pounds heavier, and all of it was muscle. Frank shook his head and grinned in spite of himself as he pushed his plate across the table to his younger brother. Joe grinned back. Though Frank was dark haired where Joe was blond, and lean where Joe was broad, when they smiled, the family resemblance was strong.

Callie reached into her purse and pulled out a pad and pen. "Okay. What we need now is an itinerary. We should go through and decide what we absolutely have to see, and then what we'd like to see, time permitting."

Joe groaned. "You two are too much. You really know how to turn a vacation into a tour for senior citizens."

"Come on, Joe," said Frank, beating him to the last french fry "We'll split time. See some sights by day, do dance clubs by night. What do you say?"

Joe considered. "Sounds okay."

Callie was reading over Frank's shoulder. "San Francisco Opera." she sighed. "Wouldn't it wonderful if we could go see an opera here?" Frank and Joe's eyes met in mutual horror.

Frank cleared his throat. "Um. Let's see what time permits. We're not here for that long."

It was a little after six when Frank slipped out of the hotel and headed down to the Bay. The entire city was shrouded deep in fog, and he had trouble seeing even a foot ahead. He hesitated when he reached the beach and stared hard to his left.

The desk clerk had told him that that was the way to The Golden Gate Bridge and Fort Point, but you'd have a hard time proving it by him. With a shrug, he started his jog anyway.

He'd tried to rouse Joe to go with him, but Joe had groaned and retreated under the covers, demanding to know if he had any idea what the word "vacation" meant. Frank smiled to himself. He could hear the gentle lap of the ocean to his right, punctuated by the cries of the gulls. Maybe by the time he started back some of the fog would have lifted and he would actually be able to see something. As it was, there were occasional, astonishing breaks where the fog suddenly gave way to reveal a momentary view, like some horror movie effect. Frank made a mental note to drag Joe with him tomorrow. He'd get a kick out of it - always assuming he'd be awake enough to enjoy it.

Either the fog kept the locals inside or the hour did, because Frank met no one else on his jog, and the desk clerk had remarked that it was a fairly popular route. Squinting, he thought he could just make out the curve of the shoreline in the distance. The Golden Gate should be there somewhere, but darned if he could see it. He paused for breath, bending to rest his hands on his knees. When he straightened, he saw that there was a bright orange girder barely a foot from his face. He moved closer to study it. The Golden Gate? Must be. And probably all he was going to see of it this morning, too. He leaned against it for a moment, enjoying the sound of the surf and the gulls and the low bellowing of the fog horn. After a moment, as his breathing settled, he became aware that those were not the only sounds. Someone - maybe ten feet away from him - was having a heated conversation.

"I said I don't trust him, Jerry! I wish we were out of the whole thing, money or no money!"

"Gabby, honey, you've got to calm down. Cobra's all right - a little weird, maybe, but he knows he can't do it without us. He'll stay in line."

"Oh, sure, Jer - and what about after we've done it? What does he need us for then? Did you ever think of that? What makes you think he's going to stick with this three way split idea?"

"Because it's neater. It's less trouble. In the end, it's safer. You gotta trust me, baby. I know what I'm doing."

"Do you, Jerry?" the woman's voice became tearful. "Do you? I sure hope so, because I have a real bad feeling about this." The last word broke on a sob and Frank winced and shifted uncomfortably. He was suddenly in the awkward position of unintentionally eavesdropping, and unsure of how to tactfully withdraw without being heard.

"Three days, Gabby. You just gotta trust me for three days and everything's gonna be fine. It'll be just you and me in Rio or Caracas with more money than we've ever dreamed of. Come on, baby, trust me?"

Frank struggled with himself. His detective's curiosity was aroused, but he knew he should probably move away now, while they seemed so deeply involved. He stepped cautiously out from behind the girder, backing away quietly. He was almost at what he considered a safe distance to turn and jog away, when the fog played one of its peek-a-boo tricks. Without warning, it dissolved right in front of him. He was fully exposed.