CHAPTER 2
Frank walked into his room and surveyed everything. He checked his valuable possessions and noticed they weren't taken. His computer was still here, even his stereo, and trophies. He entered the bathroom that adjoined with his brother's room.
He groaned when he realized it was impossible to tell if Joe's room was ransacked.
"What happened to your room? Are you upset over something?" Joe's voice suddenly echoed from the bathroom. He was carrying a plate full of sandwiches on one arm, a jar of chocolate chip cookies on the other, and a carton of milk on his hand.
"Someone's ransacked my room," Frank replied, eyeing the food Joe was holding. "Don't you have enough from lunch today?"
"Hey, I'm a growing boy," his brother complained. Then he grew serious. "I can't believe someone ransacked your room. You're one of the nicest guy on earth, unless of course you're keeping secrets from me…" Joe raised his eyebrows questioningly with a grin.
"Yeah, right," Frank mumbled. "Maybe Aunt Gertrude had heard something while she was here this afternoon, or morning…"
Gertrude Hardy was their father's older sister. Their mother, Laura, was visiting a distant relative in Scotland. Fenton Hardy, their father, a private detective, would be home this evening from his trip from New York.
"Didn't see her in the kitchen, but the alarm was turned off. That would mean she's out for a short time," Joe replied and shrugged. "So, what about my room? Is it ransacked, too?" he asked, stepping through the doorway.
"You're asking me?" Frank asked incredulously. "Your room looks ransacked everyday."
Joe propped the food on a pile of scattered papers on his desk. "Nope, I don't think it's ransacked," he said, after giving his room a brief glance.
"I think I better call the police, though I doubt they would get any prints," Frank said and went to the nightstand and picked up the receiver. "We also better check if there's any force entry on the doors or windows," he added before pressing the buttons.
"I'll check on it," Joe volunteered, munching the sandwich that he was holding. In a flash, he was out of the room.
Frank quickly made the call, and then went back to his room. He noticed the windows were tightly shut. That would mean the intruder came through the door. The drawers from his desk looked as if they were searched. His clothes, and underwear were strewn all over the floor from the dresser and the closet. Even the mattress on his bed was pulled out. He was displeased to see his bookcase was a mess. A book on his desk caught his eyes.
"The intruder went through the back door. I saw a few scratches on the knob. No other rooms were ransacked, though," Joe reported when he entered Frank's room a few minutes later. "Is anything missing?" he asked, surveying the room carefully.
"Not that I see right now. I have to check after I get my room cleaned up," Frank told him, frowning at the mess. "But I have a feeling someone was searching for something. I don't know why they even bother to look through this coloring book," he explained as he picked up the book from his desk. It was the first prize that he had won when he was in the kindergarten. For Frank, it was his memento of his first achievement during his pre-school years.
"Um, actually, I did that – the book, I mean," Joe replied, sheepishly.
Frank raised his eyebrows questioningly. "I'm already dreading to hear your explanation."
"Well, uh, Vanessa and I were discussing something about your…creative talent the other day," Joe grinned mischievously. "So, I showed her your coloring book to see how…um, creative you are."
Before Frank could retort, Joe was already out of the room in a flash. Frank sighed. Sometimes he felt like strangling his brother until he begged for mercy. Are younger brothers always this…nosy?
The police came five minutes later. As usual, Con Riley was questioning them. Con was a good friend of the Hardys from the Bayport Police Department. He glanced at Frank's room. Then he patted the pocket of his blue uniform jacket for a pen as he flipped his notebook open.
"So, are you on a case right now?" Con Riley started asking, finally finding the pen that he was searching for.
"No," Frank replied. He stepped aside to give way for other police officers to enter his room after showing them the marks on the back door.
"No?" Con Riley looked at them incredulously. "Are you sure? I know you two have a knack to stumble on cases wherever you go."
"He's telling the truth, Con," Joe affirmed. "Unless someone's very upset over Frank's immaculate room." He grinned.
The police officer sighed. "Well, let me know if you find out anything," he told the boys.
"What in the world is going on here?" They heard Aunt Gertrude's voice exploded as she ascended the stairs. "I was only gone for a few minutes to refill the gas, and when I got home, I see all those hammer and saws. I can't even park my own bucket in the garage!"
Frank and Joe looked on with amusement. They knew how much she loved watching old detective and spy movies, and she would use the slang that she had newly learned as much as she liked.
"Frank's room been ransacked, Aunt Gertrude," Joe supplied.
"That's preposterous. It couldn't have been while I was in the house, I would have heard something," she declared.
"So, someone knew you were going out, and entered the house while you were gone," Frank said thoughtfully.
"That would mean whoever it was had been watching the house," Joe added.
"Are you really sure you're not on a case?" Con Riley asked exasperatedly.
"If we found out we're on a case, we'll let you know," Joe told Con good-naturedly.
"You better," Con reminded him with a stern look. "I think I'll go and check what they have found out." He jerked his thumb toward Frank's room that was still examined by a couple of forensic experts.
"Aunt Gertrude, you didn't go anywhere else today?" Frank asked.
"Just my usual grocery shopping, other than that, no," she replied.
"So, they could have entered during that time, too," Joe surmised.
"Well, we'd better get going now," Con Riley came over a few minutes later. "We didn't find any prints there."
"Thanks, Con," Frank replied, as the policeman descended the stairs.
When the police had gone, Joe turned to Frank. "Looks like you have some major cleaning up to do," he smirked.
"This is just not my day," Frank sighed, massaging the bump on his forehead, a reminder of this morning's event.
"You'd better put some ice on that," Aunt Gertrude told him. "I'm just glad no one's hurt. Now, I better prepare the dinner." With that, she left and headed to the kitchen.
"How about if we ask the neighbors if they had seen something?" Frank suggested when their aunt was out of earshot.
Joe shrugged. "Sure."
They spent a few minutes asking questions to their neighbors, but all of them didn't see anyone suspicious hovering nearby the Hardy's house.
"Tough luck," Joe remarked as they walked back to their house. "Let's hope it doesn't happen again. It might be a random burglary or something."
"I guess so," Frank agreed quietly.
***
"Have you decided anything on the scholarship?" Phil Cohen asked Frank the next morning in school during the break. He unlocked his locker and stowed his books inside.
"No, not yet. I didn't have time. I've got to clean up my room for hours," Frank replied. So far, he had checked none of his things were missing from his room.
"What gives?" Phil asked in surprise.
"We got a little break-in last night," he answered simply. "So, you decided to take the offer?" he asked, changing the subject.
"No, I've decided to see how it goes first. I've heard something about EDevice –"
"Hardy? Frank Hardy?" A tall blond guy, with broad shoulders, and a pair of pale blue eyes suddenly interrupted the conversation.
"Yes?" Frank looked quizzically at the boy.
Frank had seen the guy before in his class. A senior. He had just transferred here a week ago. But Frank vaguely remembered his name. Burt? Brad?
"Bruce Prescott," the guy supplied, flashing a white smile.
"Hi, Bruce." Frank shook his hands. Then he quickly introduced Phil to Bruce.
"Sorry to interrupt you, but the principal wants to see you in his office. ASAP," Bruce told Frank.
"Just him?" Phil asked.
"That's what he told me." Bruce shrugged. "He was looking kind of upset over something."
Everyone in the school knew about the principal's short fuse.
"It's probably not related to the project," Frank told Phil. "I guess I better go," he added reluctantly as he quickly placed his books inside his locker.
"Don't forget we need to discuss the project," Phil reminded him.
Frank gave a wave before moving away.
When Frank entered the office a few minutes later, he couldn't help noticing some of the office staff kept giving him dirty looks. He wondered what was going on. This doesn't look good, he thought in apprehension.
Even the atmosphere around him was tense when he stepped into the principal's office. The middle-aged man looked as if he wanted to swallow Frank alive.
"You wanted to see me, sir?" Frank asked, bracing himself.
"That's right, Mr. Hardy. I don't know what games you're playing here, but from now on, you're being suspended from school!"