When it all Goes Wrong Chapter 14: We All Fall Down, a hardy boys/nancy drew fanfic

Thanks to Fluffykitty12 and God. Reviews welcome.

Chapter 14 We All Fall Down

POV Frank

In a bad mood. I hate hospitals as much as Joe. I just don't show it.

Dad's cell phone rings.

"Hardy," Dad growls.

"What do you mean the beach cottage foundation isn't solid?" Dad shouts.

Dad listens silently, but I can feel his blood pressure rising.

"How could the shooting compromised a load bearing wall? We're talking about bullets, not cannonballs!" Dad shouts. "I don't care if your gut is telling you to knock it down! My gut is telling me to hire a new contractor!"

I smile. Dad and Joe have the same amount of patience – none. But Dad hides this when Joe is around. Unfortunately, I don't get the same treatment.

"Stick in a few supporting beams! How should I know how many? I'm not an engineer!" Dad shouts.

"What do you mean you have to jack up the cottage and pour a new foundation! Get the engineer out there ASAP! Tell me what he says!" Dad shouts and disconnects.

"I'd rather get shot than remodel," Dad mutters.

I drive Dad to the beach cottage where his car is parked. Dad spends the whole time on his cell phone, calling in favors from every contractor and engineer he knows.

I cherish the silence in my car after I drop Dad off. Still hate myself for having to be rescued by Harrison – the Wonder Rookie. Why couldn't anybody else have saved me? Maybe I would have preferred to be injured or killed.

Ten minutes later, I pull Joe's Mustang halfway into my condo driveway. Only halfway because Mr. Greene is shouting at Joe on my front porch.

"…breaking rules!" Greene shouts.

I quickly get out of the car.

"What's going on?" I ask.

I stand between Greene and Joe. My brother is pale and leaning against my porch railing. Clear signs Joe is not up to dealing with Greene.

"Your brother is violating Section Four of the Homeowners Agreement!" Greene shouts.

"Translation?" I ask Joe.

"He wants them to go to the pound," Joe says and nudges his head to the left.

Two thin cats sit in my expensive L.L. Bean deck chair. The orange cat sleeps, while the black cat puffs up and hisses.

I half smile. I'm reminded of me and Joe. My brother can and does sleep anywhere, anytime. I am always on guard trying to protect him from dangers way beyond my control.

Joe and I don't have a leg to stand on. Pets are prohibited at Fox Run. It's one of the reasons I moved here. I figured less stress and less mess.

An animal control truck pulls up. I cringe. The Bayport Animal Shelter is a kill shelter. Last week a newspaper article said the shelter was overcrowded.

A man in a dirty uniform, whose nametag reads Ralph, gets out of the truck. He chomps on a cigar.

"Here for some cats," Ralph says.

"Not happening," Joe says. "They belong to me."

"No pets are allowed at Fox Run!" Greene shouts. "I'm the HOA President! I wrote the bylaw!"

"Look, I'm a trained professional," Ralph says to Greene. "Butt out."

Greene gives him the evil eye, but is quiet.

"If these are your cats, why are they so thin?" Ralph asks.

"I got them today," Joe says.

Reading between the lines, I realize Joe found the cats five minutes ago - tops.

"What are their names?" Ralph asks.

Joe's left eye twitches. It only happens when he lies. Trust me, that twitch has won me a lot of money on poker night with Joe and the guys.

"The black one is Batman," Joe says.

I snicker. Joe has loved Batman ever since he was a kid. He's even accused me of being like Batman. Hey, wait a minute…. ***

"Tang is the orange one," Joe says. "Named him after my Mustang car."

"So you can control them, right?" Ralph asks.

"They're cats," Joe says. "Nobody controls them."

"Look, if they hurt anybody my job is history," Ralph says. "I've got five weeks 'til I retire with my full pension. You pick them up or I take them in. Your choice."

"OK," Joe says. His left eye twitches.

Joe takes a slow step toward the cats. He reaches out to pick up Tang. Batman hisses.

This isn't going to end well. I step between Joe and the cats.

Batman glares at me. I glare back.

"Actually, Batman is my cat," I say. I walk behind the chair and pick up the cat by the scruff of the neck – like his mother would. I hold him in the air. The cat tries to scratch me, but his claws just paddle the air.

"We're still getting to know each other," I say over the cat's hissing.

Joe takes his cue and picks up the still sleeping Tang.

I place Batman on the deck chair and step away quickly before I need stitches.

Bats glares at Joe who holds the sleeping Tang.

"Do the cats have licenses?" Ralph asks.

"Uh….no, I just got them," Joe says.

"Pay $25 a cat and they're yours," Ralph says.

"Uh Frank, I'm a little short," Joe says.

I sigh and take $50 out of my wallet. I hand it to Ralph.

"NO ANIMALS ARE ALLOWED!" Greene shouts. He moves toward the cats. The thin black cat hisses. Tang keeps sleeping in Joe's arms.

"If they have licenses, they ain't my problem," Ralph says as he pockets my money.

"Do we need to fill out some paperwork?" I ask.

"Nah, we're good," Ralph says. "I'll fill it out when I get back to the shelter."

Sure you will. I just bribed a public official. Dad would be so proud.

"These aren't his cats! I found them in the bushes! They're wild! No animals are allowed at Fox Run!" Greene shouts. Spittle flies out of his mouth.

"Not my problem," Ralph says. He climbs into the animal control truck and leaves.

"I am evicting you!" Greene shouts as he leaves. "I'm going to the HOA office to start the paperwork!"

"Sorry," Joe mumbles.

"Actually, I'm impressed. I've lived here four years with no problems," I say and put my arm around Joe's shoulder to help him inside. "You're here two hours and I'm getting evicted."

"Wanna be really impressed?" Joe asks. "I was only awake ten minutes. I woke up cuz Greene was outside screaming. Came out and found the cats."

"Incredible. Your ability to find trouble never ceases to amaze me. We're not keeping them," I say.

"Look on the bright side, maybe the hitman will kill us, before Greene can evict us," Joe says.

He walks inside with Tang. Bats hisses at me, jumps off the chair and follows Joe inside.

I run my hand through my hair. A professional hitman is trying to kill us. We don't have time for this drama.

"I repeat, we're NOT keeping them," I say. "Nothing you say will change my mind."

Joe's eyes get a puppy dog look. That look has landed us both in a lot of trouble in the past. I try to hold firm.

Unfortunately, I remember the first time Joe used "the look." He was three years old. We were decorating the Christmas tree.

"Daddy, me put angel on top?" Joe asked.

"Sure," Dad said with a smile. He lifted Joe to the top of the Christmas tree.

I felt mad. Putting the angle on top was my job. Or it had been. Joe stretched out his arms and shoved the angel over the top branch.

I'll never forget what happened next.

"Now Fwank do," Joe said. He pulled the angel off and threw it down to me.

Why do I always remember stuff like this at the worst possible times? Like now.

"If I'm evicted the HOA gets my condo," I say. "I'm out $700,000. It's not happening. Nothing you say will change my mind."

"They're brothers," Joe says.

I swallow hard. Of course, they're brothers….who look and act nothing alike.

"How do you know?" I ask.

"Cause they take care of each other," Joe says. "Tang keeps Bats out of trouble."

"How? He's slept the entire time I've known him," I say.

"Tang is a calming influence," Joe says.

"No, Tang is an unconscious influence," I say.

I know Joe is hurting when he lays on my leather couch without complaining. Tang jumps up, curls up on Joe's stomach and falls asleep. An odd purr like a weed whacker – only louder – fills the room.

"That cat sounds like it's going to explode," I say. "Can you mute it?"

"Shut up Frank," Joe says and yawns.

Bats perches on top of the couch like a scary gargoyle keeping watch. At least nothing else can go wrong. Maybe I'll take a nap while I still have a house.

"Better get your Bat butt to the store," Joe says with a yawn. "Bats needs a litter box and cat food."

"What about Tang?" I ask.

"Bats shares with his brother," Joe says.

Bats glares at me from the top of my leather couch. I wonder if he ever wishes he were an only child. I do.

POV JOE – Three hours Later

Shouting wakes me up.

"Frank, that's great!" Dad shouts.

"What's going on?" I mumble.

"Frank broke this case wide open," Sam says. "He hacked into Staris' encrypted computer files and decoded them," Sam says.

"Does the name Ocalis ring any bells?" Dad asks.

"No," I say and yawn.

Tang is asleep on my stomach. Bats is still perched on the couch guarding Tang. Yeah, Bats is neurotic. Definitely Frank's cat.

The theme music from Star Wars fills the living room.

"Where's my phone?" Frank asks with a glare.

"How would I know?" I ask.

Not my fault I have time to kill and Frank leaves his phone lying around.

Frank's phone rings again. More Star Wars music fills the room.

Frank glares and stares at his phone which is partially covered by my pillow.

"How did it get under there?" I ask and try to look innocent.

"When you recover, I am going to kill you," Frank mutters.

Before he can follow through on his threat, I hit speaker on his phone and answer it.

"Hardy," I say.

"Yes, this is Sawyer Brown from the International Association of Detectives."

"Sawyer, what can we do for you?" Dad asks.

"You can present Frank with the Detective of the Year Award at our June conference," Sawyer says.

I smile… until I see Frank. He is closing down. He wore the same look the year after Callie left. That year and Iola's death were the two worst times of my life.

I still hate Callie for leaving Frank. After she left he shut out the world…and me. He put up a wall that took me a year to break through. And it looks like that wall has just gone back up.

"I don't want it," Frank chokes out.

"It's a new first for us….we've never had the son of a former recipient win the award," Sawyer says.

"Uh….dad," I say.

"I'd be honored to present the award to Frank," Dad says. "Let's talk logistics and I'll clear my calendar."

Dad walks outdoors with Frank's phone. My brother goes upstairs and slams a door. I'm guessing the home office. When Frank is upset, he buries himself in work.

"Joe, I'm going to run the information Frank found," Sam says. "You need anything?"

"No, maybe I'll grab some sleep," I say and fake a yawn. After I figure out what's wrong with Frank.

When Sam leaves, I spot my duffel bag leaning against Frank's leather couch.

I unzip it and find my clothes, a photo of Iola and my devo book. Nearby is a litter box and two filled food bowls. Frank's been busy.

Tang stretches, jumps down and eats some dry food. Bats jumps down, hisses at me and grabs a few quick bites of food. Then he jumps back on the couch and keeps watch. Tang keeps eating. Yeah, Bats is definitely Frank's cat.

I hold Iola's picture and stroke her face with my thumb. The day I took the photo, she randomly opened her devotional. "Hey, you're reading the devo for June 11 and it's February," I joked and kissed her long, black hair.

"I always open it to a random page," Iola said. "I figure God will guide me to what he wants to say."

"For you, Babe," I whisper and flip the book open.

"Trust me, and don't be afraid. Many things feel out of control."****

Yeah, that hits home. I'm homeless, wearing Frank's weird clothes and my body is a mess.

"Say yes to the ways I work in your life. Trust Me, and don't be afraid."****

OK God, I could use a little help here. No idea how to talk to Frank. Or how to get upstairs to his office.

I crawl across Frank's hardwood floor. Every bruise on my body protests. Why couldn't Frank have carpeting?

I force my hand on the second step and put my knee on the first step. Pain steals my breath. My plan is to climb the stairs fast – before the pain catches up to me.

I force my shaking body up five steps. When I stop, I'm lost in a world of pain. But Frank needs me. Every minute he's building a mental wall I may never break through. I have to find out what monster has invaded his mind.

I force myself up the last five stairs. I crawl down the hall. Slowly, I grab a bookcase and use it to get to my feet. I grit my teeth and take a minute to regain control. Silently, I crack open the office door. Frank sits with his back to me absorbed in the stuff on his computer screen.

"We need to talk," I say, bracing myself on a table in Frank's office.

"Not now," Frank growls. He keeps his eyes on the computer screen.

This is bad. Just like how it was after Callie left.

I need a Plan B. Walking across the room and forcing Frank to speak is beyond my physical capabilities.

Hey God, I could use a little help here.

I open the mini fridge in Frank's home office. Apples, yogurt and bottles of water. I grab a bottle of water, uncap it and hold it over an expensive looking computer thing.

"We talk now, or I kill this ….. what is this?" I ask.

"Expensive," Frank says and turns back to his computer screen.

Ignoring me is never wise. I pour water on the expensive hardware.

The machine fizzles, smokes and dies

Frank's computer screen goes blank.

"Are you crazy!" Frank shouts.

Shouting is good. If I get Frank mad enough, he'll crack.

"I was tracing information on the hitman trying to kill us!" Frank shouts.

"You broke your promise," I say.

"What promise?" Frank asks.

"You're shutting down again," I say. "You are hiding up here because something happened when Brown called about the award."

I hold the bottle of water over another expensive looking computer component. I let a single drop of water fall on its plastic computer case. "Now you spill or I spill. Your choice."

"I'm not talking," Frank says and runs a hand through his hair.

"I know. Last year I waited a year for you to talk," I say. "I can't do that again Frank. It hurt too much."

I mean it.

"How did you get up here?" Frank asks, trying to distract me.

"Super powers," I say and let one drop fall on the computer case. "Now spill. You freaked out when the phone rang. Why?"

"Feel like I don't deserve the award," Frank mumbles. "You got hurt and I shut you out. Accepting an award feels fake."

"Getting hurt is part of the job. You were a good detective. You deserve the award," I say. "But you sucked as a brother. It won't happen again, right?"

"Right," Frank says, but I can see the wall is still up.

"What else?" I ask.

"Scared you'll die when we're working a case," Frank whispers.

His honesty stuns me.

"Ever think if you weren't such a great partner, I'd already be dead?" I whisper.

"What?" Frank asks.

"You are what's kept me going," I say. "I've done the math. One of us dies first or we go together. I don't want to be the one left behind. After Iola died, you were the only thing that kept me sane. If you're not here…."

"I'm here," Frank says.

Which is good because my body gives out. I crash into the computer desk. It collapses. I land on the floor with a bunch of shattered computer stuff.

"Joe!" Frank shouts.

"I'm good," I whisper.

"Sure you are," Frank says.

He carefully helps me to my feet. With his arm around my shoulder, Frank helps me to the nearest bedroom – his.

"Call Doc Tager," I mutter as I collapse on the bed.

"Ambulance," Frank says.

"Paper, rock, scissors," I say. "Or I don't eat anything."

Frank puts out his fist. He always chooses rock. I put out a flat palm – paper.

"I win," I mutter.

"I hate you. And paper, rock, scissors is not a good way to make important decisions," Frank says.

"Hi Doc, could you take a look at Joe?" Frank says into his cell phone. "He fell."

I lie on the bed with my eyes closed.

"Hey, stay awake until I know you don't have a head injury," Frank says. "How many fingers?"

"You have 10 fingers," I say with my eyes closed.

"Look, there's something I need to tell you," Frank says. "The hitman said he fired numerous kill shots at us, but they were all deflected. According to him, we should be dead. Do you know what happened?"

"Be strong and courageous," I whisper. "Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go."*****

Frank pulls back the bedspread to cover me.

"How did you short sheet my bed? You can't even walk?" he asks.

"Super powers," I whisper.

*** See the stories written at the hardydetectiveagency online. Can't remember which story offhand. Sorry, but there are plenty of good ones.

**** Jesus Calling by Sarah Young

***** Joshua 1:9