By evening's end, Morris had given the police the name of the man who had gone out of his way to frame Joe. It was Anthony Brown, an escaped convict who had been in Mr. Pizza the night Joe had been griping about Roger Billings. He had followed Joe when he left, prepared to catch him in a lonely spot and do him in because it had been Fenton Hardy's fault in the first place he had been sent to prison, but when he had seen Joe toss his necklace away, an evil idea had begun to take root. He found the necklace then called an old acquaintance of his, David Morris, to find out if he knew someone who could do a little mechanical job for him.
Morris, unbeknownst to Brown, recorded all his phone calls in case a matter arose and he could use the recording for blackmail. It was the tape of his phone call that Morris gave the police. The tape was not admissible in court but since it was being used, along with Morris' testimony, to clear Joe and not convict someone, it was enough to clear Joe of the attempted murder charge. By six am, Joe was a free man, only he didn't know it. As for Brown, he had been recaptured five months previously and was continuing to serve out his sentence of life without parole in a prison in upstate New York.
Frank and Fenton left the judge's home with the papers for Joe's release and drove home to pick up Laura. She was ready when they arrived and ran outside, pulling the door shut and locked behind her. She climbed in the car and they were off.
Fenton took the papers to the warden who told Fenton he would have to call for validation. "I know," Fenton replied, his excitement about getting his son back causing him to fidget. When he knocked the pencil holder and it's contents onto the floor, the warden looked at Fenton.
"Look, it's going to take about an hour to make the call and get Joe ready to go," the warden told him. "Why don't you go back out and wait for him? I promise, he'll be through the front gates as soon as possible."
"All right," Fenton agreed, scowling at the delay.
The warden smothered a smile as he picked up the phone. Poor man, he thought, his smile fading. With all Joe's been through in here, his problems are just beginning.
"Happy Birthday, Little One," Pierce whispered in Joe's ear as his eyes began to flutter open.
"Oh yeah, the first of many," Joe replied a bit sarcastically.
It had taken a lot of time and effort on Pierce's part but he had finally managed to reawaken the youth to life. Joe was bitter but considering his family's betrayal, that was to be expected. Joe had, however, come to accept his life as it was.
Joe stretched as Pierce sat up. "Want breakfast or do you want to stay in bed awhile?" Pierce asked. Since it was Sunday, Joe could linger in bed as long as he wanted.
Joe bit his bottom lip and appeared to give the question serious consideration. "Since it is my birthday," Joe said slowly, looking at Pierce through half-closed eyes. "I think a nice, leisurely day in bed would be wonderful."
"A leisurely day in bed?" Pierce asked, a slow seductive smile forming as he reached out and pushed a lock of hair from Joe's face. "And, what, exactly, would you like to do on your nice leisurely day in bed?"
"Guess," Joe said giving him a wicked grin. Pierce looked down at the young man. It amazed him how close he and Joe had become. After all the things he had done to Joe...forced Joe to do, he had forgiven him and accepted him and yet, he still refused to go see his own family who arrived faithfully every Sunday afternoon.
"Break it up, you two," ordered a guard, coming to a stop in front of the open cell.
"Get lost," Pierce growled, not looking away from Joe. "It's Sunday and his birthday. We're staying here."
"Well, Hardy's got a real birthday surprise," the guard said. "One I'm sure he'll like better than loafing around with you all day."
"Yeah, and what's that?" Pierce snarled.
"He's been cleared of all charges," the guard replied. "Clean out your locker, kid," he continued. "You're going home."
Joe looked over at the guard. This was something he had not expected. "How?" he demanded. "Did..." Joe stopped speaking to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. He had to force the words past his lips. "Did my father or brother have anything to do with it?"
Joe had to know. If they had cleared him then that meant they had believed him. They must have been trying to let him know. That was why they kept coming; kept sending the letters he had trashed instead of opening. Why had he been too stubborn to read them? Too self-centered to go and see them?
"No," the guard said. "Some guy made a plea bargain," he told Joe, not seeing the light which had lit his eyes briefly vanish. "Come on," the guard ordered.
"Can I have twenty minutes?" Joe asked, ignoring Pierce's surprised gasp.
"If you want," the guard replied. "But have your locker empty," he added, walking away.
"Why?" Pierce asked, looking down with a worried frown into Joe's sad eyes.
"You're the only one who cares anything about me," Joe told him, the lost, lonely little boy excruciatingly evident in his tone.
"How can you say that after the way I treated you?" demanded Pierce.
"You took your hatred of Fenton Hardy out on me," Joe said. "But when you found out the truth about what was going on, you started being nice to me yet you had no reason to do so."
"You hate your family but you don't hate me?" Pierce asked, a mixture of wonder and confusion on his face.
"I don't hate them," Joe corrected him. "I don't care about them one way or another. They betrayed my trust. You didn't. You did exactly what you told me you would do and when you stopped, it was only to be nicer to me. I am very grateful to you. You made me feel again; want to feel again. You've given me a chance at life. Something I didn't want. Something I didn't believe I even deserved."
"Ah, babe," Pierce said, his eyes misting up.
Joe reached up and stroked his cheek. "One last time, hmm?"
Morris, unbeknownst to Brown, recorded all his phone calls in case a matter arose and he could use the recording for blackmail. It was the tape of his phone call that Morris gave the police. The tape was not admissible in court but since it was being used, along with Morris' testimony, to clear Joe and not convict someone, it was enough to clear Joe of the attempted murder charge. By six am, Joe was a free man, only he didn't know it. As for Brown, he had been recaptured five months previously and was continuing to serve out his sentence of life without parole in a prison in upstate New York.
Frank and Fenton left the judge's home with the papers for Joe's release and drove home to pick up Laura. She was ready when they arrived and ran outside, pulling the door shut and locked behind her. She climbed in the car and they were off.
Fenton took the papers to the warden who told Fenton he would have to call for validation. "I know," Fenton replied, his excitement about getting his son back causing him to fidget. When he knocked the pencil holder and it's contents onto the floor, the warden looked at Fenton.
"Look, it's going to take about an hour to make the call and get Joe ready to go," the warden told him. "Why don't you go back out and wait for him? I promise, he'll be through the front gates as soon as possible."
"All right," Fenton agreed, scowling at the delay.
The warden smothered a smile as he picked up the phone. Poor man, he thought, his smile fading. With all Joe's been through in here, his problems are just beginning.
"Happy Birthday, Little One," Pierce whispered in Joe's ear as his eyes began to flutter open.
"Oh yeah, the first of many," Joe replied a bit sarcastically.
It had taken a lot of time and effort on Pierce's part but he had finally managed to reawaken the youth to life. Joe was bitter but considering his family's betrayal, that was to be expected. Joe had, however, come to accept his life as it was.
Joe stretched as Pierce sat up. "Want breakfast or do you want to stay in bed awhile?" Pierce asked. Since it was Sunday, Joe could linger in bed as long as he wanted.
Joe bit his bottom lip and appeared to give the question serious consideration. "Since it is my birthday," Joe said slowly, looking at Pierce through half-closed eyes. "I think a nice, leisurely day in bed would be wonderful."
"A leisurely day in bed?" Pierce asked, a slow seductive smile forming as he reached out and pushed a lock of hair from Joe's face. "And, what, exactly, would you like to do on your nice leisurely day in bed?"
"Guess," Joe said giving him a wicked grin. Pierce looked down at the young man. It amazed him how close he and Joe had become. After all the things he had done to Joe...forced Joe to do, he had forgiven him and accepted him and yet, he still refused to go see his own family who arrived faithfully every Sunday afternoon.
"Break it up, you two," ordered a guard, coming to a stop in front of the open cell.
"Get lost," Pierce growled, not looking away from Joe. "It's Sunday and his birthday. We're staying here."
"Well, Hardy's got a real birthday surprise," the guard said. "One I'm sure he'll like better than loafing around with you all day."
"Yeah, and what's that?" Pierce snarled.
"He's been cleared of all charges," the guard replied. "Clean out your locker, kid," he continued. "You're going home."
Joe looked over at the guard. This was something he had not expected. "How?" he demanded. "Did..." Joe stopped speaking to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. He had to force the words past his lips. "Did my father or brother have anything to do with it?"
Joe had to know. If they had cleared him then that meant they had believed him. They must have been trying to let him know. That was why they kept coming; kept sending the letters he had trashed instead of opening. Why had he been too stubborn to read them? Too self-centered to go and see them?
"No," the guard said. "Some guy made a plea bargain," he told Joe, not seeing the light which had lit his eyes briefly vanish. "Come on," the guard ordered.
"Can I have twenty minutes?" Joe asked, ignoring Pierce's surprised gasp.
"If you want," the guard replied. "But have your locker empty," he added, walking away.
"Why?" Pierce asked, looking down with a worried frown into Joe's sad eyes.
"You're the only one who cares anything about me," Joe told him, the lost, lonely little boy excruciatingly evident in his tone.
"How can you say that after the way I treated you?" demanded Pierce.
"You took your hatred of Fenton Hardy out on me," Joe said. "But when you found out the truth about what was going on, you started being nice to me yet you had no reason to do so."
"You hate your family but you don't hate me?" Pierce asked, a mixture of wonder and confusion on his face.
"I don't hate them," Joe corrected him. "I don't care about them one way or another. They betrayed my trust. You didn't. You did exactly what you told me you would do and when you stopped, it was only to be nicer to me. I am very grateful to you. You made me feel again; want to feel again. You've given me a chance at life. Something I didn't want. Something I didn't believe I even deserved."
"Ah, babe," Pierce said, his eyes misting up.
Joe reached up and stroked his cheek. "One last time, hmm?"