Part 2 of this thief story line. Thank you so much for all your kindness about the last chapter. I hope you enjoy this one just as much.

Frank was fuming as he left the principal's office. He paced up and down the corridor.

"How dare he," Frank growled. "We are doing everything we can to get Joe to trust adults and he is undermining everything!"

Callie watched him, unable to look away.

"You really care about him, don't you?" Callie observed.

Father stopped pacing. It was a reminder that Callie was there. The last thing he needed was for her to conclude the Hardy family were volatile and dangerous, that maybe Joe really did deserve to be sent to a reform school.

"He's my brother," Frank said, as calmly as he could.

"But you would… You'd do anything for him."

"Of course."

Callie managed a smile.

"He's lucky to have you."

"Well, he won't have me there if I can't prove his innocence," Frank said. "Watkins doesn't get it. Sending Joe away isn't going to help him. He needs to be somewhere he is loved and accepted, somewhere he doesn't have to prove anything. He's a good kid who was used and tricked by bad people. He needs to be shown he can be a good person without being made to suffer for it."

Callie took a step toward Frank, resting a hand on his arm.

"We're going to fix this," she vowed.

Frank forced himself to nod. He was desperate to believe her because if he didn't, Joe was going to have to fight to remain in the Hardy house and Frank wasn't sure Joe necessarily had the conviction he belonged there to fight hard.

He would just have to fight for him.

Frank led Callie to the computer suite, glad to find the place was empty. He sat down at one of the computers, working quickly. Callie watched him, trying to come up with ways they could prove Joe was innocent.

"Maybe if we can track one of the phones…" Callie began.

As much as Frank hated to shoot down the idea, he was forced to. Watkins would simply claim any of the missing phones not found somewhere Joe would have put them had either been stashed there to throw him off the scent or else that Joe had sold it on to someone. And Frank knew whoever was found with whichever stolen phone they tracked would be sure to know that Joe had been accused and make sure to implicate him in whatever cover story they cooked up.

But he had thankfully already had an idea. Within a few moments, he was turning to Callie, showing her his computer screen. He had accessed the school's computer system, bringing up rows and rows of photographs.

"These are all the pictures taken for people's student IDs," Frank explained.

Callie frowned. She asked Frank how he had gotten hold of them.

"I have some experience getting past firewalls," Frank told her.

It didn't seem to calm Callie at all. She said she couldn't imagine Watkins was going to be very happy to know Frank hacked his computers.

"He never needs to find out," Frank told her. "We are just using these so we can work out who you saw. Watkins isn't going to accept you accusing someone other than Joe after seeing you with me but if we can identify the guy you saw, we can gather evidence against him."

Callie nodded her approval, admitting she could see the logic in the idea. Frank grinned. He gestured towards the computer screen, telling Callie to take a look. There were seemingly endless rows of photographs of pupils, their names listed below them. Callie scrolled down slowly, studying each blond young man intensely.

She caught sight of Joe's picture, saw the way Frank bit his lip when he spotted it. Stopping, Callie found herself staring at the photograph of Joe. He was scowling, his features looking a lot sharper than the boy she had met in the principal's office. There had been healing bruises too. Callie guessed the photograph had been taken not long after Joe had come to live with the Hardys. That still made it a very recent picture but the leaps and bounds Joe had made in his recovery... Callie wondered if Frank realised how remarkable it was, how remarkably he and his brother were.

"We'll fix this," Callie said.

Frank nodded mutely. Then he told Callie to keep going through the pictures. She stopped abruptly toward the end of the list.

"That's him!"

Frank darted to her side.

"Martin Viktors?" he clarified.

Callie nodded, assuring Frank she would have known his superior expression and Roman nose anywhere.

The accusation rang true to Frank. Martin Viktors held a complicated place in the social structure of Bayport High School. He wasn't well-liked by any extent of the imagination but he seemed to rule over the popular crowd with an iron fist. No one wanted to cross him. He was the sort of intelligent that made him very, very gifted at knowing just how to pursue a person with maximum damage. People who got in his way or slighted him found themselves humiliated and socially isolated.

"He's not going to have any problem with letting Joe take the fall for him," Frank growled through gritted teeth.

"Then we need to build a case against him and fast."

Everyone else was in lessons. Frank had suggested Callie go and join them but she had refused. She had said she would rather stay with Frank, help him prove Joe was innocent.

"I owe him that much. I'm the reason he's in this mess," Callie reasoned as the two crept through the corridors.

Frank knew there was no way they were going to get a hall pass to allow them out of lessons so they needed to do all they could to avoid teachers.

"It wasn't your fault," Frank reassured her as he stopped beside a locker. "You thought you were helping. I get it. And Joe will understand too. All of this is Watkins' fault. If he really wanted this solved and not just an excuse to punish Joe, he would have shown you pictures of the students like I did and seen who you pick out."

Callie sighed and nodded. Still, she found herself looking away. She felt guilty. Regardless of what Frank said, she couldn't shake the feeling it was her fault.

Her attention was drawn back to Frank when she heard a strange metallic scraping and shifting. She studied him, seeing Frank was fiddling with the lock.

"What are you doing?" Callie demanded.

Frank turned to her as if it was obvious.

"Picking the lock. This is Martin Viktors' locker and these things are hardly Fort Knox. And if I can find one of the stolen things in his locker, I can prove he is behind the thefts."

Callie shook her head, saying it would prove nothing. All that would happen would be that the principal would accuse Frank of helping Joe with the thefts because he was breaking into lockers or accuse him of planting the evidence.

"This investigation needs to be above board or else both you and your brother are getting expelled."

Frank grimaced. He knew Callie was absolutely right. He knew his father would say the same thing too. But his younger brother needed him and Frank didn't want to waste time playing by Mr Watkins' rules when Joe was in trouble.

He turned his attention back to the lock, determined to pick away at it. Callie sighed, turning away to keep watch. Her words played around in Frank's head. He wished he could forget them.

Because she was right. She was absolutely right.

With a defeated sigh, Frank let the lock drop back down against Martin's locker.

With Martin Viktors in lessons, Frank and Callie spent the time before lunch break planning out how they were going to get him to confess. Frank gave Callie a crash course in all she might need to know about Martin. He was in Joe's year and was no doubt delighting in the fact Joe had been accused of crimes he had committed. He didn't play sports at all himself but he went around with a gang of sour-faced thugs from the school's football teams to serve as the brawn to his brains. And there was no mistaking it: Martin Viktors was very, very smart.

It was Frank who made the first move. He approached the table Martin and his entourage was sitting at. Iola and Chet glanced at him as he went past. Frank assumed they had heard the news, were wondering if there was anything they could do to help. Frank sent them a glance to warn them off getting involved. He didn't need them messing up his carefully made plan.

"Hide your stuff," Martin smirked as he saw Frank approaching. "There a Hardy about."

Frank ignored the laughter from Martin's thugs. A few of the boys were in Frank's year and Frank wasn't keen on the idea of tangling with them but he would if needed. Especially for Joe's sake.

"And you'd know all about stealing, wouldn't you, Viktors?" Frank said venomously.

He didn't normally make jabs like that. That was more something Joe did. But Frank wanted Martin to understand that he knew and that he was not at all happy about him letting his brother take the fall.

"I think we should talk outside," Frank said.

Martin scoffed.

"What makes you think I am going anywhere with you?"

"Because right now, I am willing to settle for my younger brother not getting expelled for something you did. But if I am unable to prevent that, I intend to give my brother the pleasure of watching you doing community service alongside him."

Frank finished his statement with a very dark smile. Martin shifted uncomfortably. He cleared his throat, glancing toward his friends as if trying to see if they had noticed how much the look on Frank's face had affected him.

"We can talk outside. But only because I don't want people to see me associating with a criminal like you."

Frank took Martin out into a corridor. He didn't bother taking him far from the cafeteria, just far enough away that it was just the two of them.

"I know what you did," Frank said. "And I know you aren't cruel enough to think Joe deserves this after everything he went through."

Frank didn't know that. In fact, he was sure Martin was overjoyed that Joe was suffering. Martin didn't like Joe at all. Frank could come up with a few reasons why Martin had taken against his brother so firmly. Joe was better looking and a lot of girls had noticed. He had managed to draw a good group of friends around him while Martin was left with the people he intimidated into tolerating him. And, perhaps Joe's most egregious slight, Joe got attention.

It wasn't always good attention - in fact, it very often wasn't - but it was still attention and Martin couldn't handle the fact that people might be more interested in hearing about Joe than about him.

"Tell Watkins you're the thief," Frank ordered.

Martin raised an eyebrow.

"And why would I do that?"

"Because it's the right thing to do," Frank tried. "And then you can get what you deserve."

"Oh, so you think thieves should be punished?" Martin pressed.

His tone alone made Frank realise it was a trap. And he easily worked out what the trap was. Because Joe was a thief. And, yes, he was being punished in the form of community service. But the crimes Joe had been involved in, the ones he had committed, it should have been a far more serious sentence than the community service he had ended up with. Frank knew Martin would take a sadistic pleasure in getting him to say Joe should had been punished more severely even if that was not what Frank meant.

"I think people who steal when they have other options should be punished. People who don't have a choice should be helped. And my brother never got a choice. His entire life was messed up by the sort of monsters I hope you never have to encounter. You stealing people's phones because it's fun or you want the money to buy video games… That's nothing like what Joe went through."

"Maybe your brother just missed it. It must be so hard having to be a goody-two-shoes all the time now he's living with you and your lot," Martin returned.

Frank glowered. He summoned every ounce of frustration he had toward the situation, toward Martin, toward Watkins. He needed Martin to think he was winning, to think that all skill and intelligence was being suppressed by rage.

"My lot? You're lucky I don't march you down to Watkins' office and make you confess!" Frank growled.

"How do you really think that is going to go, Frank? You think I'm going to roll over and tell Watkins some tale about me stealing everything so you can get your brother off the hook? He'll know you forced me into it and then there will be no more Hardys left here."

Frank snarled. He turned on his heel, stalking down the corridor.

The snarl was a cue for Callie to move out of hiding. She walked past Frank in the corridor, glancing warily at him.

"What's his problem?" Callie asked as Frank moved out of sight.

Frank immediately stopped when he turned down the corridor, making sure he couldn't be seen. He wanted to see exactly how it played out.

"He wants me to take the blame for the crimes his brother committed," Martin said. "Probably had his phone recording in his pocket, trying to trick me into confessing. Loser."

Callie hummed her agreement.

"You know I know it was really you, right?" Callie said. "I mean, I'm the one who saw you."

Martin frowned at her. Frank watched from his hiding spot. He could see the teenager was trying to work out what Callie was going to do with that information.

"Don't worry," Callie said. "I'm not about to tell anyone. I mean, Joe Hardy might not have been the one stealing from people's lockers but he is a thief and I don't want to go to school with someone like that. I mean, you did the school a favour getting him thrown out."

Martin smirked.

"They're throwing Joe out?" he clarified gleefully.

Callie nodded. She placed a hand on Martin's arm.

"And the school is going to be better for it," Callie said. "You're the sort of person I want to be going to school with. Smart. Resourceful... Handsome."

Frank raised an eyebrow, wondering if Callie might have been laying it on a little too thick. But one glance at Martin told Frank he was happily lapping it up.

"Can you tell me how you did it?" Callie asked.

"Did what?"

"Steal the phones. Please. It must be so difficult."

Ego inflated, Martin agreed. He told Callie how he had started it when he had begun faking injuries to get out of gym class. People had been leaving their phones in their bags so he'd been taking them out, making sure that the bags looked untouched so no one realised until later on.

"But the real stroke of genius was stealing the keys from the janitor."

"You did that?" Callie gasped. "How?"

Martin was all too happy to tell her. He described noticing that the janitor had a set of master keys for all the lockers, how he'd gotten a few of his friends to block some of the toilets to distract the janitor then he'd made his way to the janitor's office. After that it hadn't been hard to get hold of the keys.

"And because the janitor doesn't want to get in trouble, he didn't tell anyone about the keys going missing."

"That's so smart," Callie gushed. "And then you framed Joe?"

"Well, Hardy getting punished for it is just the icing on the cake. But I knew he would be a suspect. And I had been thinking about shifting blame his way. You simply did it before I could."

That was a lie. Frank could tell. Martin was trying to make himself sound cleverer than he actually was, trying to make it sound like he really knew what he was doing. Frank could understand it. After all, Callie was very pretty.

He was sure plenty of guys were eager to show off for her.

"Wow, an honour to have such a talented thief among us," Callie said. "Just don't break into my locker."

"Never," Martin vowed.

Callie gave a light laugh, telling Martin she would see him around. He told her he was looking forward to it. Then Callie made her way down the corridor toward Frank. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, grinning as she showed Frank it was still recording.

"Here's your proof."

Watkins glowered as he listened to the recording Frank and Callie had made.

"He confesses to everything. And I reckon the janitor would be able to back up his story," Frank said. "At the very least, I would like to see the janitor search his locker."

Watkins' scowl only intensified, saying that the janitor had lost his set of keys to the lockers. Joe grinned at his brother.

"How do I know you didn't threaten him into confessing?" Watkins tried.

"Because I wasn't even there," Frank said.

"And I think, listening to the recording, it doesn't take a detective to work out how they got him to confess," Joe smirked.

He praised Callie's skill and bravery, loudly announcing he did not believe he had the mental fortitude to be able to stand flirting with someone like Martin Viktors. Callie bit back laughter as she thanked him.

"You said you needed proof. We brought you a confession. Either you take it or you search Martin Viktors' locker. Because if you continue to insist Joe did this, I am taking the recording straight to the police and mentioning that you almost slapped one of your pupils earlier today."

Watkins knew he was beaten. He sat back in his chair, eyes playing over the three of them. He was trying to give off an air of confidence, seem like he knew exactly what was going on but it was obvious he was floundering. He knew there was no way of winning.

"I'll accept the confession," Watkins said. "But I hope you can be mature about this situation with Martin Viktors. Last thing I need is for there to be a war between you and him."

Each of the teenagers understood the principal's intentions. He was going to ensure Martin knew exactly who had led him to being caught, perhaps even encourage him to take revenge.

"Just warn him he'll lose," Joe said.

Watkins let out a snarl. The disgust and fury on his face as he regarded Joe made Frank's blood boil.

"Or perhaps you will show the world your true colours? Prove you don't belong in a place like this, surrounded by good people. Trust me, boy, I'm not some naive fool like the rest of them. I know exactly what you are and I know exactly what you deserve. I'm not going to let another pupil at this school suffer because your sentimental father believes you're still the little boy who died. I-"

Frank slammed his hand down on the table. The principal jumped.

"Joe, could you wait outside, please?" Frank asked.

Joe frowned. He glanced between Frank and Watkins.

"Are you sure?"

"I won't be long," Frank assured his brother.

Joe lingered for a second more. Then he nodded. He moved out into the hallway, Callie going to join him. Frank waited until the door closed to turn back to Watkins.

"You look like you have something to say, Mr Hardy."

"I do," Frank said. "I don't know exactly what your game is but I have my suspicions. I am willing to give you the benefit of the doubt right now because you are by no means the biggest threat in my brother's life right now. But the benefit of the doubt still makes you a prejudiced monster who looked at a child who was abused and neglected and acted like it was his fault. You shouldn't be the principal of this school. You shouldn't be the principal of any school. And the moment you become the biggest threat to my brother's happiness, I am going to make sure your career is over."

Frank reached down, picking up the brochure for Red Woods Reform School. He held it up in front of Watkins.

"I'm burning this," Frank vowed. "And if you ever, ever bring my brother into this office for something he hasn't done again…"

He offered the principal a final glare, turning on his heel. He stalked toward the door.

"Don't you want to finish that threat?" Watkins asked.

Frank stopped dead.

"Your brother would have. And I am sure the people after him would have."

Frank turned slowly.

"Actually, no. I don't think the people after him would have made a threat at all. I'd recommend not burning that brochure, Mr Hardy. Might be a useful clue if your brother does ever go missing."

Joe was waiting outside for Frank as asked. Frank tried not to be pleasantly surprised by that. A small part of him had feared he would walk out of the office to find Joe had bolted and needed to be found.

"Come on," Frank said, trying to force away his anger at Watkins and muster up a smile. "Let's get you home."

Joe nodded, beginning down the corridor with Frank. He glanced toward his brother.

"I'm afraid Callie had to shoot off. It's a pity. She seemed nice. I approve."

"You approve? Of what?" Frank asked.

"Of Callie," Joe said.

There was something mischievous about his tone that made Frank grin. It was the sort of moment that made the entire day worth it.

"And why would I need you to approve of Callie?" Frank asked.

"I am sure you can work it out, given how you are such a masterful detective. But if you need a clue…"

Joe lifted a hand to his mouth and began making exaggerated kissing noises against it.

"Shut up, Joe," Frank groaned playfully.

Joe smirked.

"You wanted a younger brother. Now you must accept the endless teasing about girls."

"Two words," Frank said, meeting Joe's eye. "Iola Morton."

Joe's eyes widened for a second.

"I plead the fifth," he returned.

Frank shook his head, pulling his brother close. He felt Joe stiffen with panic for a moment before Joe relaxed, clapping Frank good-naturedly on the back.

"Thank you," Joe said, looking up at his brother.

Frank just grinned back.

"What are brothers for?"

Frank couldn't sleep. Joe had asked that they not talk to their parents about what had happened. Frank had hated the idea but he had decided to respect Joe's wishes. Still, he was going to subtly suggest to their father to look into Mr Watkins when Fenton returned from his current trip to New York.

Still, Frank was shaken. He couldn't stop himself from laying awake in bed, listening for Joe's footsteps in the corridor. He was terrified if he nodded off he would wake up to find Joe had run away.

Unable to sleep, Frank resolved to work. He picked up the Red Woods Reform School for Wayward Boys brochure. Thoughts of it raced through his mind. What at Watkins said when he had been leaving the office. Was the Red Woods Reform School really a place Mr Mauve sent the boys he had kidnapped? It made no sense. No criminal would have that much power over a real school, right?

But maybe it didn't really exist? Maybe that was a cover story so Mr Mauve could abduct boys like Joe.

Frank searched the name up online. A website came up. Frank scrolled through it, haunted by the images he was seeing. It seemed like it had been designed for the sole purpose of pushing Joe away from people who would love and protect him and into the hands of dangerous criminals.

But the website checked out and Frank took the address. He searched for it, bringing up satellite images.

The school really existed.

Frank felt an anger swelling up inside him.

Watkins had lied. He had tried to use a real, genuine danger against them. Frank knew he had to prioritise stopping Mr Mauve but Watkins was definitely the next on his list to be taken down.

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