J.M.J.

Author's note: Thank you for continuing to read! Thank you especially to Candylou, MargaretA66, ErinJordan, max2013, and caseykam for your reviews! It's a funny thing, but writing is the one area of life where I'll take an accusation of being evil as a compliment, caseykam. ;) I hope you all enjoy this chapter! God bless!

Chapter IV

At first, all Joe could do was stare at the flowers in his hand as if he couldn't comprehend what they were. In reality, he did comprehend it; he comprehended it all too well. He started to laugh, staggering back a step until he was leaning back against his car. The flowers slipped out of his hand and landed on the pavement of the parking lot.

Maria and Katherine stared back at him, clearly unsure what to think. Then Maria stooped to pick up the flowers again. Biff held out a hand to stop.

"Hold on! I've run into these things before," he said. "Last time, they were poisoned."

"Poisoned?" Katherine repeated, looking at her hand as if she expected it to be changing color or covered in sores.

Biff looked at Joe, who was still chuckling. "Do you think they might be poisoned?"

"Probably, the way this day is going," Joe replied. He noticed Katherine's dismayed expression and quickly added, "No, I doubt they're poisoned. The other time, it was fast-working. You and Maria would already be having symptoms if they were."

Katherine breathed a sigh of relief, but Maria bent over again to pick up the flowers with a miffed air.

"I don't see what's so funny about any of this," she complained.

"Nothing," Joe admitted. He was beginning to recover himself a bit. "Nothing at all. It's just…" In spite of himself, one last ironic chuckle escaped him. "It's not enough that Angelo is still running around out there somewhere, Evangeline got out of jail, and the entire town thinks my brother and I are practically murderers. Oh, no. Now Black Rose has to turn up again, just for good measure." Any progress he had made in recovering from the shock was lost. He turned around and leaned against the car's roof, burying his face in his arms.

Chet glanced at him in concern and then at Biff, who also seemed to be at a loss. Then Chet looked back at the girls again. "Uh, maybe you should take those flowers to the police and show them."

"Maybe we'd better," Maria agreed. She was also staring at Joe.

Katherine, however, darted forward and grasped Joe's elbow. "Joe, what's the matter with you? You promised that if we ever needed help, we could come to you."

Before Joe could make some kind of self-deprecating reply, Biff stepped in. "Of course, you can. What Chet meant is that you should go to the police, too." He grabbed Joe by the shoulders and started pushing him around to the passenger side of the car. "The Hardys will get right on it, too. You say you found the flowers on Tony's grave?"

Katherine nodded. "Are you okay, Joe?"

"I think he's coming down with a cold," Biff replied. "Nothing to worry about."

"Come on, Kate; we'd better go," Maria said, her tone cooler than usual.

The girls returned to their car and drove away.

"Now I've done it," Joe commented as he watched them go. "Now they think I'm some kind of idiot, too."

"You are putting on a pretty convincing act," Chet commented.

"I'm driving you home, Joe," Biff said. "You can go on home, Chet. I'll just walk to my apartment from the Hardys'. It's not too far."

He practically shoved Joe into the passenger seat and then trotted around and climbed in the driver's seat. Chet started to say something, but Biff shook his head.

"No arguments," he said as he closed the car door.

"Biff…" Joe said.

"I don't want any arguments from you, either." Biff moved to turn on the ignition and realized he couldn't. He held out a hand toward Joe. "Keys."

Joe handed the key over. "I'm not going to argue, but could you take me to my dad's office instead? I need to tell him about this."

Biff considered it for a moment. "Well, okay. Are you sure you're up for it, though. You don't look so good."

"I'll be fine."

When they reached Fenton Hardy's office, Joe saw right away that his father's car wasn't parked in its usual place. The office was locked up and no one was around. That wasn't so unusual these days. Fenton and Sam always locked up when they were both out, which happened frequently. They used to have a receptionist who could keep the place open when they weren't there, but she had quit when popular opinion had turned against the Hardys and they hadn't been able to find a replacement.

"Do you want me to take you home after all?" Biff asked as he looked through the windshield at the darkened windows.

Joe fished around in his pocket. "I've got a key. I'll wait for Dad to get back here."

"Are you sure?" Biff asked. "I can wait here with you. Maybe you shouldn't be by yourself right now."

"I'm fine," Joe assured him again. "You can go."

"Let me rephrase that. You should not be by yourself right now and I'm not going anywhere."

Joe decided no amount of arguing was going to change his friend's mind, so he had to let it be. They got out of the car and Joe unlocked the office.

It was quiet and peaceful inside. The reception area had hardwood floors and an electric fireplace that gave it a warm feel in contrast to the frosty weather outside. Joe would have liked to sit down by the fireplace, but anyone walking by could have seen him, and he didn't want to deal with anyone wanting to come in. It wasn't likely it would be a potential client, after all. If anyone came by, it would most likely be to complain about the dangers of private detectives taking the law into their own hands.

So instead, Joe went through the door behind the receptionist's desk, with Biff trailing along behind him. There was a short hallway with four offices off it. Fenton and Sam used one each, while one of the others was used for a computer that had a wealth of data encrypted on it and file cabinets with hard copies of even more data and the other housed tools, disguises, and other things that came in handy on investigations. Joe went into his dad's office. There was a couch in there, complete with a pillow and a blanket since it was often used for short naps when Fenton was there late into the night working on an investigation.

Joe looked at Biff. "If you don't mind, I wasn't kidding when I said I was tired earlier."

"Why would I mind?" Biff returned.

Joe closed the blinds on the window and lay down on the couch. "It's not that I'm going to go to sleep," he replied. "I just need to close my eyes for a minute."

"Sure," Biff said as he sat in Fenton's desk chair.

Within seconds, despite Joe's protestation to the contrary, his breathing steadied and he fell fast asleep.

HBHBHBHBHB

About an hour later, Frank and Officer Burns had found a quiet place to take their lunch break. They had both brought lunch that day and it was too cold to be tempting to stir out of the patrol car if it wasn't necessary, so they were content to park the car and eat there.

"So, are you about ready for Christmas?" Officer Burns asked casually.

"To tell the truth, I haven't given it a lot of thought," Frank admitted. It was hard to feel festive with Eva hanging over their heads, but even before she had reemerged, it had been hard to be in the mood for Christmas. Tony's death had seemed to take all the joy and meaning from such things.

"I guess that's understandable, under the circumstances," Burns said sympathetically. "I know you probably don't feel like celebrating, but don't let it slip away entirely. I know after my old partner, Tom, was killed, I had a hard time for a long time after that. You know, when someone loses a family member, everyone can empathize and kind of understand how it feels, but some people don't seem to understand how hard it is to lose a friend."

"It's not just that," Frank said slowly. "I mean, that's bad enough, but I also…"

"Blame yourself," Burns finished for him.

"Yeah. I guess it must be pretty obvious."

"Only because I felt the same way after Tom was killed."

Frank glanced at his partner. "I didn't realize that. You know, Tom Collig is a big part of why I decided to become a police officer."

"Really? Usually an officer getting gunned down for the mere fact that he's a cop isn't the most persuasive example for others to want to put on a badge."

"I know, but Tom really believed in what he was doing, enough that he died for it."

"Enough that I doubt he would have quit when the going got rough," Burns added pointedly.

Frank sighed and turned to look out the window. "I know, I know. Trust me, I don't want to quit. If I did, I would have done it by now."

He didn't want to explain again why he was considering it, and he knew he didn't have to for Burns' sake. Burns already knew all the reasons that Frank had to give. It was more for his own sake, to convince himself, that Frank prepared to go over it again. However, his phone rang before he started. It was his mom calling, and he knew that she would never call while he was on duty unless it was an emergency. That pushed all other thoughts out of his mind for the moment.

"I'd better take this," he told Burns as he accepted the call. "Hello?"

"Frank, it's me," Laura said, giving evidence that she was upset, since ordinarily, she wouldn't have given such a confusing identification or dispensed with a greeting. "I'm sorry to call you while you're working, but Joe was supposed to be home from work over an hour ago, and he's not here. I've tried calling him, but he won't answer his phone. I don't know what to do. Your dad and Sam are out of town, following up some kind of lead. I don't think it has anything to do with this whole Evangeline Moretti-thing, but I am worried about Joe."

"Okay." Frank's instinct was to offer his mother some kind of comfort, but her report worried him, too. Ever since he had come back from California, Joe had been extra careful to let someone know where he was, probably more to keep them from worrying than because he was worried himself. This wasn't like him. "I'll see if I can find him."

"Let me know as soon as you do," Laura requested.

Frank hung up and told Burns about the situation. "There are only a handful of places I can think of where Joe might have gone," Frank finished. "The most likely one would be my dad's office. Would you mind if we stopped by there to check?"

Burns looked at his watch. "We've still got fifteen minutes left of our lunch break. We might as well go and see."

"Sorry to cut your lunch break short."

Burns shrugged. "Don't worry about that. This is more important."

It only took about five minutes to drive to Fenton Hardy's office. Frank was relieved to see Joe's car parked in front of it. While Burns waited in the patrol car, Frank went inside. He was puzzled to see that it was dark and silent inside.

"Joe?" he called questioningly.

Immediately, Biff appeared in the hallway leading to the offices. "Am I glad to see you, Frank."

"Where's Joe?" Frank asked.

Biff pointed toward Fenton's office. "He's asleep."

"No, I'm not," Joe replied sleepily. He came to the doorway, rubbing his eyes.

"What are you doing here?" Frank asked.

Joe blinked at him sleepily. "Waiting for Dad. What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you. You have Mom half worried to death, not going home and not answering the phone."

That startled Joe into more wakefulness. He scrambled to reach for his phone and he whistled when he saw the time and the half a dozen missed call notifications from his mom. His phone had been on silent.

"I didn't think I'd been asleep that long. I'll text her right now."

While Joe was typing out a text, Frank leaned against the doorway. "It doesn't sound like Dad's going to be back any time soon. Mom said he and Sam had to leave town. I don't know for how long."

Joe sighed. "Great. Just when I needed to talk to him in person." He looked up at his brother. "Frank, something's happened."

"I was picking up on that. What is it?"

Joe told him about the roses that Maria and Katherine had found. Frank groaned and ran a hand through his hair.

"That's just great," he complained.

"It seems kind of funny to me," Biff spoke up. "I thought Black Rose only ever used, well, a black rose for a calling card. What does the white one mean?"

"I don't know," Frank admitted. "It might be some kind of threat. You said the white one was withered."

"That could have just been because the white one was real," Joe said. "I don't think the black one was. They could have been lying out there a few days."

"Possibly," Frank agreed. His phone started to ring again and he looked at the screen. It was Phil calling. Whatever it was could probably wait, so Frank shoved his phone back into his pocket. "That could have been their plan, though. The real one would wither and the fake one would last."

Joe's phone began to ring then. "It's Phil," he said, looking at the screen.

Frank frowned. "He just tried to call me, too."

"Something must have happened." Joe answered it and immediately put it on speaker.

"Joe, I'm glad you answered. I just tried to call Frank, but he didn't pick up," Phil said.

"I know," Joe told him. "He's right here. Biff, too. You're on speaker."

"Okay." Phil sounded uncharacteristically flustered. "Guys, um…Darcy's been murdered."

Both Frank and Joe were struck speechless by that announcement.

It was Biff who broke the silence by asking, "Who's Darcy?"

The Hardys turned to stare at him.

"You don't remember?" Joe asked. Darcy had had such a central role in the case with Angelo and with Tony that it seemed impossible that Chet and Biff hadn't heard her name, even if they didn't remember her from the time they had met her a couple of years earlier. In any case, Joe had no desire to explain that whole sordid story right now.

Neither did Frank. Instead, he asked, "Are you sure about that, Phil?"

"Yes," Phil answered. "Captain Gomez had me identify the body. I don't know why. He knows who she is. Was. Anyway, it happened last night, probably."

"But are they sure it's murder?" Frank insisted. "You know, did try to kill herself once."

"It's definitely murder," Phil asserted. "When, uh, I went to identify her, I barely recognized her. She'd been beaten up."

"Are there any suspects?"

"Gomez didn't say. He didn't tell me anything, except that they were sure it was murder. He asked me a lot of questions, like when I'd last seen her or heard from her and if I knew of anyone who had a grudge against her."

"Besides her ex-boyfriend and the guy that she humiliated, that is," Joe said.

"Yeah." Phil paused for a second. "You don't suppose Gomez will think that Joe or I had anything to do with it?"

Frank weighed this for a few seconds. "I doubt it. I'm sure the thought has crossed his mind, but he can't do anything without proof. And he's a good cop. He doesn't want to just make an arrest; he'll want to find the actual murderer."

"I still don't like being a suspect," Phil said.

"Who does? What did you tell him, as far as suspects, that is?"

"I didn't have anything to tell him," Phil insisted. "I don't know who would want to do a thing like this."

"Angelo," Joe said promptly. "She said he threatened her before. It had to be him."

"We don't know that for sure," Frank cautioned him. "There could have been any number of other people. She was a defector from Black Rose, and they don't let defectors live for long. She was working as a hooker and quit, so someone might not have been happy about that. For that matter, while she was doing that work, she could have gotten involved in or witnessed things we have no idea about and that someone might want to keep her from talking about. We don't know very much about her family or background, so there could be some motive there. And then, that city isn't exactly the safest place to live. She could have simply been a random victim of someone who didn't have anything personal against her."

"Well, that narrows it down to a few thousand people, most of whom we have no idea who, specifically, they would be." Joe folded his arms. "The only one we do know are Angelo and Phil and me."

Frank raised an eyebrow. "We know right now it wasn't either of you two."

"Yeah, but does Gomez know?" Phil asked.

"Well, for that matter, he might as well suspect me," Frank pointed out. "I have just as much a motive as either of you would."

Joe scoffed. "As if you would…" He paused, stopping himself just before he said something he knew he would regret. Instead, he quickly finished the sentence by saying, "As if you would kill someone."

Frank narrowed his eyes. He knew that wasn't what Joe had been going to say, but he didn't call him out on it with Biff right there and Phil on the line.

"What are you going to do about it?" Phil asked.

"I think we'd better stay out of it," Frank admitted. "We've got our hands full enough between Angelo and Eva, and now Black Rose being back."

"But what if Angelo is the murderer?" Phil asked. "Investigating this might help you track him down. Or if it's Black Rose, it could help stop them."

"That's true," Frank conceded. "I suppose I could give Gomez a call and see if he'll tell me anything. It'll have to be after I get off work, so it'll be a few hours."

"I suppose he'd talk to you more readily than me." Joe stuck his hands in his pockets and looked at the floor.

"He might not talk to me, either," Frank pointed out.

Phil had no further details to offer, and so the call was soon ended.

"So, who is Darcy?" Biff asked.

Joe looked pleadingly at Frank. He'd explained several times what had happened with Darcy several years earlier, and he didn't want to go through it again.

"We'll tell you another time," Frank told Biff. "If it's all right, Joe and I need to talk privately for a minute."

The brothers went back into Fenton's office, and Frank closed the door. "Are you okay, Joe?"

Joe didn't answer right away. When he did, it wasn't a direct response to Frank's question. "Earlier, on the phone, I was going to say, 'As if you would care what Darcy did to me,' but I know that's not fair. I'm sorry."

Frank scratched his chin. "I probably deserve it. Look, Joe, I've said it before, but I'm sorry for treating you like…like an incompetent civilian or something."

"You don't have to apologize for treating me like what I am."

"Would you accept an apology for treating you like an annoying kid, then?"

"I was acting like one."

Frank sighed in frustration. "This is why I hate apologizing to you. All you do is make excuses for me." He was about to add that he needed to get back to work, but Joe stopped him.

"Frank?"

"What?"

Joe took in a deep breath and closed his eyes. "I really don't know what to do. With my life, I mean. I feel like I'm wasting it with what I'm doing now, but nothing I do works out. I'm only twenty-one, and somehow I've messed my whole life up already."

Frank crooked a slight smile. "You're not in jail or mixed up with a gang or anything else illegal and you don't have any problems with drugs or alcohol or gambling, so I'm failing to see how exactly you've messed your whole life up."

"I also dropped out of college, had to move back in with my parents, can't find a job that I can stand working or that pays decently, and…" Joe was going to mention his break-up with Iola, but he decided that was too raw a wound to throw in so casually. "…And nobody in this town will give me the time of day anymore."

"Then why don't you go back to college? Go in a different town. That will solve everything you just mentioned."

Joe shook his head. "There's more to it. I just…I don't know what to do. Besides, I can't do anything right now. Not with everything that's happened in the last few days."

Frank checked his watch. His lunch hour had ended and he and Burns would be in for some trouble if they went too far over it. "I know. It's not the greatest time to be trying to figure that out. Look, Joe, why don't you come over for dinner tonight? I'll think about it until then and I can tell you what Gomez says."

"Are you sure you want me to come?" Joe asked sullenly.

Frank stepped forward so he could put his hands on his brother's shoulders. "I don't know about you, but I'm sick of this…whatever you want to call it between us. We've both apologized and accepted apologies. The one thing we haven't done is actually try to just get over it. Maybe if we both acted like we had forgotten the whole thing, we really will."

"Well, okay then. We can try," Joe said, but he didn't sound convinced.