The List
Chapter Ten
Callie was feeling better and more composed by the time they arrived at the police station. Mr. Hardy had just finished his conference with Chief Collig and was getting ready to leave as Frank and Callie arrived.
Frank told him about Callie's visitor. "And nothing was taken?" he asked, a frown on his face as he puzzled over the situation.
"Nothing," Callie stated. She looked at Frank. "I know you are worried about Joe," she said, Frank having told her about the suicide pact on the way over. "Why don't you go on home?" she suggested. "I can get a cab home."
"That won't be nessecary," Con said, coming in. "I can run you back home and check the place over before I leave," he offered.
"That would be great!" Callie told him, secretly relieved.
Frank and Mr. Hardy pulled into the drive side by side and got out. "What did Chief Collig say about the pact?" Frank asked as they neared the house.
"He's going to alert the other families," Mr. Hardy answered. "And he suggested we find a psychiatrist for Joe."
"That's all?" Frank demanded.
"Juat not to leave him alone," Mr. Hardy added.
Mr. Hardy unlocked the front door and saw the movie still playing.
"Joe?" Frank called out. "Mom?"
"What's that smell?" Mr. Hardy demanded, a look of terror coming over his face as he rushed into the kitchen with Frank on his heels.
"Joesph!" Mr. Hardy shouted, rushing forward and pulling him away from the oven. "Turn off the gas!" he ordered Frank, pulling Joe into a fireman's carry and going to the kitchen door. He unlocked it and carried Joe outside.
He laid Joe on the ground and checked for breathing. He wasn't. He felt for a pulse. It was faint, but there was one. He began mouth-to-mouth as Mrs. Hardy came running up the street. Frank joined them in a moment. He had phoned an ambulance and opened the windows.
Joe started coughing and Mr. Hardy put his hands beneath Joe's shoulders and lifted him to a sitting position. "Easy, Son," Mr. Hardy said gently, gripping Joe's shoulders to hold him steady.
"Wh...what happened?" Joe asked, dazedly looking around.
"Perhaps, you should tell us," Mr. Hardy said.
Joe looked at the faces of his family and saw more than the usual concern there. He wasn't sure, but they looked hurt--almost betrayed.
"I was watching the movie and then someone threw a cloth over my face," Joe said slowly, remembering what had happened. "It was the thief from the jewlery store," Joe said. "I blacked out. I don't remember anything more," he added.
"What?" Joe demanded, seeing Frank look away and tears in his mother's eyes. "Dad?" Joe turned to his father, but even he looked like he didn't believe him. "What?" Joe asked again.
"No more lies," Mr. Hardy said. "We know what's going on. We just don't know why," he added, his voice breaking.
"Well, that's more than I know," Joe said a little bitterly. Someone had just attacked him and his own family didn't believe him. "What's going on?" he demanded.
"Come on, baby brother," Frank said, holding out a hand to help Joe to his feet. "Let's go inside. The gas should be cleared out by now."
"Not until you tell me why you are all acting this way," Joe refused, as the sound of the siren grew louder.
"Are you feeling okay?" Mr. Hardy asked.
"Do you care?" Joe countered, still confused about their attitude.
"Is that what's wrong?" Mrs. Hardy asked, tears falling from her eyees. "You think we don't care about you? Oh, honey, we love you so much," she continued without giving Joe a chance to speak. She knelt down and pulled him to her. "How could you think we don't care?"
Joe would have answered her, but an ambulance pulled up. "Where are the police?" Joe asked, looking up at Frank.
"I didn't call them," Frank answered, his sad eyes looking at Joe.
"But someone just tried to kill me!" Joe shouted in disbelief.
"Easy, Son," said Mr. Hardy as the paramedics came rushing over. Mr. Hardy told them about finding Joe in the gas filled house, unconscious.
"We had better take him to Bayport General," one of the paramedics said, looking Mr. Hardy in the eyes.
"But I'm fine now," Joe argued.
"You need a doctor to check you out," Mr. Hardy said, allowing for no more argument.
Joe went in the ambulance and the rest of the Hardys closed the windows and locked the doors before starting for the hospital.
"Why did they want Joe to go to the hospital?" Mrs. Hardy asked. "He seemed fine."
"I told the dispatcher it was an attempted suicide," Frank told her.
"Psychiatric evaluation," Mr. Hardy said. "We have to face it. Joe has a problem and he needs professional help."
When they arrived at the hospital, they were told Joe was physically no worse from his ordeal, but a psychiatrist was with him now and they should have a seat and wait.
Almost an hour later, a man in his late thirties entered the room. He approached the Hardys. "Fenton Hardy?" he asked.
Mr. Hardy stood up. "Yes?"
"I'm Dr. Castram," the man introduced himself. "I was asked to evaluate Joe after his attempted suicide."
"And?" Frank asked anxiously. He and his mother had joined Dr. Castram and Mr. Hardy.
"Are you positive it was an attempted suicide?" the doctor asked.
Mr. Hardy told Dr. Castram about the note with signatures which had been found. "Why?"
"Joe was very open and answered all my questions," Dr. Castram informed them. "Then he told me about a person dressed in black attacking him tonight. I pointed out that he didn't need to tell me anything but the truth. He gave me a funny look and asked what I had meant by the remark. So I told him I knew he had tried to kill himself. He asked why I thought that, so I told him that was what his family had told the dispatcher. He looked shocked, then refused to say anything after that. Not one word," the doctor stressed.
"He's probably in shock to discover you knew he had tried to kill himself," Dr. Castram continued, after neither of the Hardys said anything.
"Can you help him?" Mr. Hardy asked.
"I'm not taking new patients," Dr. Castram answered. "But Dr. Steve Spencer is an excellent psychiatrist," he said, taking out a notepad and pen and writing down the man's name and phone number. "You can call him and set up an appointment."
"Can we see Joe now?" Frank asked.
"Yes," was the reply. "I'm going to sign his release form now. I do suggest, however, that you not leave him alone until he does get help. Not even to go to the bathroom. I know it sounds drastic, but it could keep him alive," he added as he walked away.
The Hardys went back to where Joe was still sitting in a chair where Dr. Castram had left him. Joe looked up at his family as they came in. His eyes were filled with hurt and he looked like he might cry.
"Hi, honey," Mrs. Hardy said, going over and putting a hand on his shoulder as she started to lean down and kiss him, but he jerked away.
"Joe?" Mr. Hardy asked.
"How could you?" Joe demanded softly, looking up and staring Frank in the eyes. "How could you think I would do that?"
"Joe, we know," Frank replied, tears spilling down his cheeks.
"Know what?" Joe demanded. "Why don't you tell me what you think you know?"
"Son," Mr. Hardy said gently, sitting down in the chair beside Joe's. "We found out why they put you in the Creative Expression class," he began.
"What?" Joe demanded, completely lost. "What does that have to do with anything?"
Mr. Hardy explained the purpose of the class and why he had been put in it. "So you think I'm nothing more than words in a textbook?" Joe asked, wounded. "Because I fit some--some pattern, you think I'm no longer the same person I was before school started?"
"Joe, listen..." Mr. Hardy began.
"No! You listen!" Joe interrupted hotly. "I am the same now as I was last year and the year before. And so are you!"
"Us?" asked Mrs. Hardy, taken aback.
"Yeah," Joe said. "I may have all the attributes of a classic suicide case, but I have something they obviously didn't."
"What?" Frank demanded.
"A family who cares and loves him no matter what. See, I do know you. It wouldn't matter what I did, I know you'll always be there for me. And as long as I know that, I'll never be alone. And loneliness is a big factor in suicide," he added.
"How do you know?" Frank asked, his expression curious.
Joe told them about the girl in the alley with the pills and how they had belonged to her brother and how he just needed someone to talk to. "But I don't know what I did with the pills," Joe said. "I lost them, then just forgot about them."
Mrs. Hardy looked releived to hear about the pills, but Frank and Mr. Hardy still looked shaken. "Then why did you sign that suicide pact?" Mr. Hardy demanded.
"What?" Joe almost screamed, his eyes going wide.
"Don't deny it," Frank told him. "It had your name in your writing."
"I never!" Joe erupted.
Mr. Hardy told him what the note said. "I never signed anything like that!" Joe insisted again.
"It had your name on it and Craig Sommers and Paula Michaels," Frank told him, wishing he could believe Joe, but still not convinced Joe was being open.
"Were there any other names on the list?" Joe asked, a thoughtful expression on his face.
"Fred Perry, Ralph Hayes..." Frank continued.
"And Aaron Wissel and Tim Wyman," Joe finished for him.
"You did sign it," Frank said sadly.
"Kind of," Joe admitted.
Chapter Ten
Callie was feeling better and more composed by the time they arrived at the police station. Mr. Hardy had just finished his conference with Chief Collig and was getting ready to leave as Frank and Callie arrived.
Frank told him about Callie's visitor. "And nothing was taken?" he asked, a frown on his face as he puzzled over the situation.
"Nothing," Callie stated. She looked at Frank. "I know you are worried about Joe," she said, Frank having told her about the suicide pact on the way over. "Why don't you go on home?" she suggested. "I can get a cab home."
"That won't be nessecary," Con said, coming in. "I can run you back home and check the place over before I leave," he offered.
"That would be great!" Callie told him, secretly relieved.
Frank and Mr. Hardy pulled into the drive side by side and got out. "What did Chief Collig say about the pact?" Frank asked as they neared the house.
"He's going to alert the other families," Mr. Hardy answered. "And he suggested we find a psychiatrist for Joe."
"That's all?" Frank demanded.
"Juat not to leave him alone," Mr. Hardy added.
Mr. Hardy unlocked the front door and saw the movie still playing.
"Joe?" Frank called out. "Mom?"
"What's that smell?" Mr. Hardy demanded, a look of terror coming over his face as he rushed into the kitchen with Frank on his heels.
"Joesph!" Mr. Hardy shouted, rushing forward and pulling him away from the oven. "Turn off the gas!" he ordered Frank, pulling Joe into a fireman's carry and going to the kitchen door. He unlocked it and carried Joe outside.
He laid Joe on the ground and checked for breathing. He wasn't. He felt for a pulse. It was faint, but there was one. He began mouth-to-mouth as Mrs. Hardy came running up the street. Frank joined them in a moment. He had phoned an ambulance and opened the windows.
Joe started coughing and Mr. Hardy put his hands beneath Joe's shoulders and lifted him to a sitting position. "Easy, Son," Mr. Hardy said gently, gripping Joe's shoulders to hold him steady.
"Wh...what happened?" Joe asked, dazedly looking around.
"Perhaps, you should tell us," Mr. Hardy said.
Joe looked at the faces of his family and saw more than the usual concern there. He wasn't sure, but they looked hurt--almost betrayed.
"I was watching the movie and then someone threw a cloth over my face," Joe said slowly, remembering what had happened. "It was the thief from the jewlery store," Joe said. "I blacked out. I don't remember anything more," he added.
"What?" Joe demanded, seeing Frank look away and tears in his mother's eyes. "Dad?" Joe turned to his father, but even he looked like he didn't believe him. "What?" Joe asked again.
"No more lies," Mr. Hardy said. "We know what's going on. We just don't know why," he added, his voice breaking.
"Well, that's more than I know," Joe said a little bitterly. Someone had just attacked him and his own family didn't believe him. "What's going on?" he demanded.
"Come on, baby brother," Frank said, holding out a hand to help Joe to his feet. "Let's go inside. The gas should be cleared out by now."
"Not until you tell me why you are all acting this way," Joe refused, as the sound of the siren grew louder.
"Are you feeling okay?" Mr. Hardy asked.
"Do you care?" Joe countered, still confused about their attitude.
"Is that what's wrong?" Mrs. Hardy asked, tears falling from her eyees. "You think we don't care about you? Oh, honey, we love you so much," she continued without giving Joe a chance to speak. She knelt down and pulled him to her. "How could you think we don't care?"
Joe would have answered her, but an ambulance pulled up. "Where are the police?" Joe asked, looking up at Frank.
"I didn't call them," Frank answered, his sad eyes looking at Joe.
"But someone just tried to kill me!" Joe shouted in disbelief.
"Easy, Son," said Mr. Hardy as the paramedics came rushing over. Mr. Hardy told them about finding Joe in the gas filled house, unconscious.
"We had better take him to Bayport General," one of the paramedics said, looking Mr. Hardy in the eyes.
"But I'm fine now," Joe argued.
"You need a doctor to check you out," Mr. Hardy said, allowing for no more argument.
Joe went in the ambulance and the rest of the Hardys closed the windows and locked the doors before starting for the hospital.
"Why did they want Joe to go to the hospital?" Mrs. Hardy asked. "He seemed fine."
"I told the dispatcher it was an attempted suicide," Frank told her.
"Psychiatric evaluation," Mr. Hardy said. "We have to face it. Joe has a problem and he needs professional help."
When they arrived at the hospital, they were told Joe was physically no worse from his ordeal, but a psychiatrist was with him now and they should have a seat and wait.
Almost an hour later, a man in his late thirties entered the room. He approached the Hardys. "Fenton Hardy?" he asked.
Mr. Hardy stood up. "Yes?"
"I'm Dr. Castram," the man introduced himself. "I was asked to evaluate Joe after his attempted suicide."
"And?" Frank asked anxiously. He and his mother had joined Dr. Castram and Mr. Hardy.
"Are you positive it was an attempted suicide?" the doctor asked.
Mr. Hardy told Dr. Castram about the note with signatures which had been found. "Why?"
"Joe was very open and answered all my questions," Dr. Castram informed them. "Then he told me about a person dressed in black attacking him tonight. I pointed out that he didn't need to tell me anything but the truth. He gave me a funny look and asked what I had meant by the remark. So I told him I knew he had tried to kill himself. He asked why I thought that, so I told him that was what his family had told the dispatcher. He looked shocked, then refused to say anything after that. Not one word," the doctor stressed.
"He's probably in shock to discover you knew he had tried to kill himself," Dr. Castram continued, after neither of the Hardys said anything.
"Can you help him?" Mr. Hardy asked.
"I'm not taking new patients," Dr. Castram answered. "But Dr. Steve Spencer is an excellent psychiatrist," he said, taking out a notepad and pen and writing down the man's name and phone number. "You can call him and set up an appointment."
"Can we see Joe now?" Frank asked.
"Yes," was the reply. "I'm going to sign his release form now. I do suggest, however, that you not leave him alone until he does get help. Not even to go to the bathroom. I know it sounds drastic, but it could keep him alive," he added as he walked away.
The Hardys went back to where Joe was still sitting in a chair where Dr. Castram had left him. Joe looked up at his family as they came in. His eyes were filled with hurt and he looked like he might cry.
"Hi, honey," Mrs. Hardy said, going over and putting a hand on his shoulder as she started to lean down and kiss him, but he jerked away.
"Joe?" Mr. Hardy asked.
"How could you?" Joe demanded softly, looking up and staring Frank in the eyes. "How could you think I would do that?"
"Joe, we know," Frank replied, tears spilling down his cheeks.
"Know what?" Joe demanded. "Why don't you tell me what you think you know?"
"Son," Mr. Hardy said gently, sitting down in the chair beside Joe's. "We found out why they put you in the Creative Expression class," he began.
"What?" Joe demanded, completely lost. "What does that have to do with anything?"
Mr. Hardy explained the purpose of the class and why he had been put in it. "So you think I'm nothing more than words in a textbook?" Joe asked, wounded. "Because I fit some--some pattern, you think I'm no longer the same person I was before school started?"
"Joe, listen..." Mr. Hardy began.
"No! You listen!" Joe interrupted hotly. "I am the same now as I was last year and the year before. And so are you!"
"Us?" asked Mrs. Hardy, taken aback.
"Yeah," Joe said. "I may have all the attributes of a classic suicide case, but I have something they obviously didn't."
"What?" Frank demanded.
"A family who cares and loves him no matter what. See, I do know you. It wouldn't matter what I did, I know you'll always be there for me. And as long as I know that, I'll never be alone. And loneliness is a big factor in suicide," he added.
"How do you know?" Frank asked, his expression curious.
Joe told them about the girl in the alley with the pills and how they had belonged to her brother and how he just needed someone to talk to. "But I don't know what I did with the pills," Joe said. "I lost them, then just forgot about them."
Mrs. Hardy looked releived to hear about the pills, but Frank and Mr. Hardy still looked shaken. "Then why did you sign that suicide pact?" Mr. Hardy demanded.
"What?" Joe almost screamed, his eyes going wide.
"Don't deny it," Frank told him. "It had your name in your writing."
"I never!" Joe erupted.
Mr. Hardy told him what the note said. "I never signed anything like that!" Joe insisted again.
"It had your name on it and Craig Sommers and Paula Michaels," Frank told him, wishing he could believe Joe, but still not convinced Joe was being open.
"Were there any other names on the list?" Joe asked, a thoughtful expression on his face.
"Fred Perry, Ralph Hayes..." Frank continued.
"And Aaron Wissel and Tim Wyman," Joe finished for him.
"You did sign it," Frank said sadly.
"Kind of," Joe admitted.