J.M.J.
Author's note: Thank you so much for reading! Thank you especially to Candylou, MargaretA66, ErinJordan, max2013, angelicalkiss, and caseykam for your reviews on the previous chapter! As always, there are several great theories in those reviews, but it would be spoilers to say which ones exactly. I do want to apologize for taking over a week to post. It's been a crazy week, to say the least, but a good one. Except…well, my sister's dog went missing. A friend found him, but he had spent the night with this elderly man who lives by himself and doesn't have much and I think he was a little disappointed that someone came to claim the dog. So now, happy as I am that my sister's dog is home safe, I'm really wishing this guy could get a dog that he could keep. Anyway, that's totally off-topic, other than that one of the reasons I couldn't get to revising this chapter sooner was because I was out looking for the dog. I hope you enjoy it! God bless!
Chapter VI
Joe had only just gotten home and reassured his mother and Aunt Gertrude that he was all right when he saw Chet's car pulling up in front of the curb. He mentally braced himself. He wasn't sure exactly what Chet wanted to talk about, but as far as he could see, there was nothing more to say. In any case, he didn't want his aunt realizing that there was such a rift between them. He really didn't need a lecture right now. He hurried outside so he could steer his friend away from the house.
That was when he saw that it wasn't Chet. It was Iola. Joe blinked a couple of times and then he rushed forward to help her out of the car.
"Hi, Iola," he greeted her. "I thought it was Chet following me."
Iola put on a faint smile. "I guess I can't blame you for that."
"Are you supposed to be driving?" Joe asked an instant before realizing that that was a blunt way of putting a sensitive question. "I mean…"
"I know what you mean," Iola replied patiently. "Technically, I haven't been cleared to, but I can, and I need to talk to you right away. I couldn't say what I need to over the phone. I'm so glad you're home. Is anyone else home? I think we'd better talk in private."
Joe studied her face for a few seconds before he decided that she wasn't trying to reopen the question of their relationship. "We could talk in the lab, unless there are too many steps."
Iola shook her head. "No, that should be perfect."
The Hardy house had been built in the days before it was in style to attach the garage to the house, so the garage stood separate. It was really an old barn that was left over from when this part of Bayport was still countryside. It had two stories, and Frank and Joe had long ago converted the upper story into a sort of crime lab. Back in their amateur detective days, they had kept files, equipment, and anything else related to mysteries in there that they didn't want to keep in their rooms. As Joe climbed the stairs behind Iola to make sure she didn't get too tired, he reflected that it had been over a year since he had last been up there. For that matter, it was probably over a year since anyone had been.
Joe paused at the top of the stairs to take it in. Everything was covered in a layer of dust and there was no laptop in the usual place on the desk, but otherwise it was exactly as he remembered it. Being there again brought back such a poignant flood of memories that Joe could almost imagine that he heard the echoes of himself and his brother and their friends as teenagers, discussing some case or laughing over a joke.
"Are you all right, Joe?" Iola asked, noting the wistful expression on his face.
That roused Joe back into reality. "Oh. Yeah. It's been a while since I've been up here."
"It hasn't changed much," Iola noted.
Joe smiled bitterly. "It's about the only thing that hasn't."
Iola tried to dust off one of the chairs with her hand before she sat in it. "Are you all right? I mean, with Black Rose being back and Evangeline and everything."
"It has been quite a day." Joe scratched the back of his neck. "Maybe not quite as bad a day as Phil had."
"What happened to Phil?"
"That's right. You weren't there." Joe folded his arms and went to look out the window as he explained that Darcy had been murdered and how Phil had gotten involved in it all.
That only confused matters more as Darcy furrowed her brow. "Who's Darcy? A friend of yours from California?"
Joe rubbed the bridge of his nose and continued rubbing it as he spoke. "A 'friend' isn't exactly how to describe it."
An alarmed look crossed Iola's face. "If she was more than that, I'm really very sorry. I understand. I can't even imagine losing someone who you feel that way about like this…"
"Please, Iola," Joe cut in. "You're going to make me gag. I'd rather date a crocodile than Darcy."
"Oh."
Joe looked up, realizing how taken aback Iola was by the statement. "I'm sorry she was killed, really, and for all her problems, I know she was trying to make some changes in her life, but I had no romantic interest in her whatsoever. You don't have to worry about that."
"I wasn't exactly worried," Iola lied.
Fortunately for her, Joe simply went on. "She potentially had a lot of enemies, so as Frank pointed out, it's not exactly a surprise. The thing is that the only person we know of for sure who would have wanted to kill her is Angelo Beretta, so if we could investigate the murder, we might get some clues to Angelo. Except the police out there won't tell us anything straight out because of the whole thing with our reputations being destroyed. So we're pretty much back to square one. Anyway, if you were thinking that I had some kind of feelings for Darcy, it's not like that at all. But you didn't know about that, so it can't be what you came to talk about."
"No," Iola agreed. "Although it's not much better. Lisa came to our place just a little bit ago. You know that Black Rose is back, obviously, and about the roses on Tony's grave and all of that. Lisa thinks it's a threat against her. She says she's been followed the last couple of days.."
Joe took a second to process this information and then he chuckled dryly. "Oh, this is great. I love this. We've got Evangeline, we've got Angelo, we've got Darcy, and Black Rose, too, and now Lisa's worried she's a target. She's probably right. Oh, yeah. This is definitely not more than one person can take. What's going to be next: that crazed serial killer rising from her grave to finish the job? Oh, how could I forget? We've also got Gomez thinking that the Illuminati is after us."
"What?" Iola asked. "Who's Gomez?"
Joe was pacing back and forth now, using his hands to emphasize each word he said. "Yeah, I really didn't need anything going right in my life right now. That's so boring, when you can have every problem you can possibly imagine staring you right in the face. The rate this day is going, we'll probably get invaded by aliens or the earth will get hit by a meteor. Except I'll survive, one way or another. I'd probably be the only one."
"Joe, would you cut it out?" Iola interrupted. "What's the matter with you? This isn't about you and it is like you to feel so sorry for yourself."
Joe stopped his pacing and flopped into one of the chairs. "Sorry. I think that's about the only skill I have left, though, unless being a complete and total failure is a skill."
"Hmm. Well, if those are your only two skills, then it's almost a shame that you're so bad at them. Lisa wants to know what she should do."
"How should I know?"
"You do have some experience with this kind of thing," Iola insisted.
"You mean like when I got Tony killed?"
"Joe, that wasn't your fault."
Joe threw his hands in the air as he stood up again. "I could have saved him, twice over! If it's not my fault, then I don't know whose it is."
"Probably Angelo's."
"I could have stopped him," Joe insisted. "If I just would have had a weapon, and been ready to use it."
"You know, guns don't solve everything and you don't have to carry one as a detective."
"Yeah, and when you don't, you wind up getting innocent people killed. At least, you do when you're dumb enough to go up against unscrupulous killers without a way to defend yourself." Joe shook his head, feeling tears dangerously close. "I said I couldn't carry a gun because I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I ever had to use it. Now I get to live with the fact that Tony's dead because of me."
Iola got up and went to him, placing a hand on either one of his arms. "Joe, it's not your fault. You did what you thought was right in the moment. You couldn't have done anything else."
"It should have been me," Joe said, "I would have rather it was me. If I could have traded places with Tony, I would have." A tear escaped his eye and rolled down his cheek, but he was close to being past the point of caring what Iola thought.
Iola wrapped her arms around him and embraced him. "Tony wouldn't have wanted that, you know. Since you lived, it must be because you've still got something to do." She looked up at him and realized how close together they were. They could have kissed if they had wanted. Iola only entertained that thought for a moment before pushing it aside. This wasn't the time. There probably never would be a time for that.
The thought occurred to Joe, too, and so he gently disentangled himself from the embrace and took a few steps back. "I don't know what I could do."
"You can help Lisa for one thing."
He sighed. "I'll need to talk to Frank about it, in any case."
HBHBHBHBHB
Fenton lowered his binoculars and rubbed his eyes, wishing that that could make him forget what he had just seen. He couldn't believe he'd been reduced to this. There was a time when he would have never considered taking a job like this, but there were bills to pay and he couldn't afford to dip too far into his savings. If he didn't take what investigative jobs were available, he'd have to try to find another job. He raised the camera instead and snapped a couple of pictures. That should be enough to satisfy the client.
"I think we're done here," he said quietly.
"Thank goodness for that," Sam Radley said as he started the car. "I'm looking forward to getting back to Bayport. Hopefully, this will be the last job like this."
Fenton shook his head gloomily. "Not unless things change for the better quickly."
"We've both got more important things to be doing than gathering proof for some guy that his wife's got a boyfriend," Sam grumbled.
"Maybe, but none of those cases technically have a client who will pay. Believe me, I wouldn't take a job like this if I had any other choice."
"I know." Sam shrugged as he signaled to turn right. "I guess it wasn't as bad as it could have been. Nothing R-rated, but evidence enough. The client will get his divorce, the wife will get her name smeared, they'll both be remarried inside a year, and everyone can pretend they're happy."
"You sound awfully cynical about the whole thing."
"I am cynical. They hadn't been married a year. They didn't even try." Sam shrugged again. "Oh, well. I guess it's nothing personal against them. I just don't like getting in the middle of things like this."
Fenton glanced at him. He could guess what was really bothering his friend. "How are Ethel and the kids doing out in Colorado?" he asked pointedly.
"They want to come home. Just about every time I talk to Ethel now, we argue about it. I don't blame them, but I can't take the chance on them getting caught in the crossfire when Evangeline makes her move."
"If she makes her move."
"Oh, she'll make it," Sam asserted darkly. "I don't have any doubt about that. I just wish she'd hurry up and get it over with."
"She might not do anything," Fenton insisted. "Or she might take her time about it. It could be months or even years. It's impossible to say with her. It might be that making Ethel and the kids wait it out away from home will be for nothing."
"I can't take the chance."
"You know, as much as you'd like to, you can't always keep your family perfectly safe without suffocating them." Fenton's voice grew quieter as he came to the end of the sentence. He wasn't sure whether he was talking more to himself or to Sam. Then he cleared his throat. "But I don't blame you. If there was anywhere I thought my family could be safe, I'd be trying to convince them to go there."
The conversation lulled after that. The whole business of spying on that young bride carelessly breaking her vows practically before they had left her lips had dampened their spirits, and the mention of Evangeline drooped them even more. A few months ago, if Evangeline had been paroled, they would have been able to find someone who would give them updates on what she was doing and where she was at. Now the best they had was a restraining order guaranteeing that she would be arrested if she came anywhere near them, not that she would mind breaking another law if she intended to finally enact her revenge.
Sam headed the car back to Bayport. It was dark, and the clouds veiling the sky made it darker still. Even the headlights of the car didn't seem to cut through the darkness as far as usual. There was a light fog. Snowflakes began to hit the windshield. It was going to be a long drive home.
It was shortly before midnight and they were still an hour from Bayport when Fenton's phone rang. He looked at the screen before answering it. It was an unfamiliar number. He wasn't positive right off, but he thought it was a Boston number. He immediately became apprehensive and his greeting as he answered it sounded more suspicious than friendly.
"I'm sorry to bother you so late, Mr. Hardy." It was a female voice; not Evangeline's. "I wouldn't, but it's an emergency. And…and at the very least, you ought to be warned." The voice cracked slightly and the woman drew in a shuddering breath, as if she was trying hard not to cry.
"Who is this?" Fenton asked.
"Oh, right. This is Belle Beretta. You know, Mario's sister?"
Fenton had only met the girl briefly a handful of times, but he tried to match up the voice on the phone to what he remembered. That seemed to check out, as did the Boston phone number. Last time he had talk to Mario, Mario had mentioned that his sister and uncle still lived in Boston. "What's wrong, Belle? Has something happened?"
"Yes. It's Mario. It's…terrible."
Fenton tense even more, fearing the worst. "What happened?"
"They don't know for sure. The police, I mean. The best they can figure out is that Mario was at his apartment and someone got in. They're not sure if he let the person in or they broke in. Anyway, they…they stabbed him several times. They didn't kill him. He was able to call 9-1-1, but he had passed out before the paramedics got there." Belle paused to steady her shaking voice. "He's in surgery right now. They're not sure…" She trailed off, evidently not wanting to voice the uncertainty.
"When did this happen?"
"An hour ago; a little less."
Fenton looked at his watch, making a note that that would have made the approximate time eleven p.m. "You said at his apartment. In Philadelphia?"
"That's right. I've been here visiting. I've been worried with that Evangeline person being out of jail, so I wanted to be close by, even thought he didn't want that. We compromised, so I wasn't staying at his apartment. I've been staying with a friend who has an extra room at her place."
"It's too soon for the police to have any ideas, I suppose. At least, any that they would have shared with you," Fenton said, thinking out loud.
"They don't need ideas," Belle protested. "We already know who did this. It was Evangeline. Who else could it be?"
"You're probably right." Fenton frowned into the darkness, avoiding Sam's questioning looks. If it was a couple of months ago, he would have just called the Philadelphia police and gotten the information from them, but if they were like most other police departments, they wouldn't tell him anything now. "All right, Belle, you're probably safe, especially if it was Evangeline. She wouldn't have any interest in you now, if she ever would have. Still, just to be safe, stay close to that friend you say you're staying with. Let me know as soon as you hear anything more."
Belle seemed hesitant to hang up the phone, but she didn't have any more information on the attack. Fenton gave her a few more reassurances as well as he could, but they sounded flat and empty in his own ears. Finally, he ended the call. Sam gave him another curious glance.
"What was that about?"
"The beginning of the end, I think. It looks like Evangeline has made her move."
