J.M.J.

Chapter V

Sunday, April 25

Frank, Joe, and Callie were back in Southport first thing the next morning. On the entire ride there, Joe was waiting for some opportunity to make a wisecrack about Frank and Callie, but the opportunity never arose. He wanted to make it at just the right time for maximum effect, and he could bide his time about such matters when the need arose.

They met Phil at his dormitory, but Tony had texted that they should meet him at the church, where he had gone to the six-thirty Mass in order to make time for plenty of detective work. When they arrived there, they found two other people waiting with Tony. They were a young man and a young woman, both of Italian descent, like Tony was. The woman was unfamiliar, but the Bayporters recognized the man at once.

"Mario!" Joe said as he climbed out of the driver's seat. "What are you doing here?"

"Going to Mass," Mario Beretta replied with a teasing glint in his eye.

Joe rolled his own eyes. "Yeah, obviously. I mean, what are you doing in Southport?"

"Oh, that," Mario said as if he honestly hadn't understood the question, although his grin gave him away. "Well, when we hadn't heard from you yesterday afternoon, Belle talked me into driving up here last night and seeing how everything was going." He gestured to the young woman. "You remember me talking about my sister, Isabella? I don't believe you met her."

"No." Frank held out a hand to her. "I'm Frank Hardy. It's nice to meet you."

"You, too," the woman replied, shaking his hand in turn. "And please, everyone calls me Belle."

The others also introduced themselves, after which Tony said, "I ran into these two completely by coincidence. I haven't told them about yesterday yet. I figured you guys would want to do that."

"We'd like to hear it first-hand, but we're not completely in the dark." Mario tapped a newspaper that was under his arm. "Actually, there are three things I was hoping to tell you guys when we met up with you. First, thanks. Sounds like you've done a lot better than I was hoping. Second, sorry. It also sounds like your meeting with Angelo didn't go so well, to say the least. Finally, what the actual heck?" He unrolled the newspaper and held it up so the Bayporters could all read the headline. It was the Southport Daily Chronicle, and the headline read:

HARDY BOYS HOT ON TRAIL OF SOUTHPORT SLAYER

"Oh, great," Frank groaned.

"I knew that reporter was trouble," Joe added as he read the tagline which revealed the author as Kelly Alston.

"Oh, it gets better than that," Mario said. "It says that you guys already had a run-in with the 'Southport Slayer' yesterday. Apparently, your main suspect is a guy named Angelo who managed to get away, but a reliable eye-witness quotes Joe here as saying, 'If it's the last thing we do, we swear we're going to get this guy.'"

Belle chuckled. "Please tell me that wasn't a real interview."

Joe snatched the paper away from Mario. "No, of course not. I mean, I might have let it slip a little that we were here on a case, but I never said anything like that."

Tony scoffed. "You let it slip 'a little'?"

Joe shot him an annoyed look, but Frank was already trying to put together the pieces that had led up to this story.

"Hold on," he said. "You did say something like that. After Angelo got away from you, you told Allison that we'd find him. Maybe not in quite so dramatic words, but you did say something along those lines."

"But Kelly Alston wasn't around then," Joe protested.

"No, but a lot of other people were," Frank pointed out. "One of them might have been this 'reliable eye-witness.'"

"Who's Allison?" Belle asked.

"That must be the one piece of information this so-called 'news' story doesn't give," Callie commented as she read the article over Joe's shoulder. "A good thing, too. The poor girl doesn't need her name dragged through the mud in public on top of all her other problems."

"Apparently, she's Angelo's girlfriend," Frank explained. "We don't have the whole story yet, but it sounds like they had some kind of fight and she went to her brother for help. Angelo followed her there and, well, the brother wound up in a coma."

Mario winced. "I was hoping he wasn't in anything too deep like that. But I guess, honestly, deep down I figured he probably was. What's this guy's name and is he all right?"

"Marshall Given," Frank said. "He's in the hospital. I don't know how he's doing."

"What about this Allison? Was she hurt?" Belle asked.

"No," Frank said. "At least, not too much, I don't think. She had a black eye so someone must have hit her."

Belle looked up at Mario and he nodded. "Do you think she'd want to see us? I'd like to talk to her if it's possible."

"I couldn't say for sure," Frank replied. "She's probably at the hospital again. We could go and see. She's pretty much our only hope for leads to Angelo, anyway."

The group set out, dividing into three cars this time, since Mario and Tony each had their own. Joe almost made a joking offer to go with Tony and Phil so that Frank and Callie could have his car to themselves, but he decided against wasting his chance on something as mundane as that.

When they arrived at the hospital, they found Allison in the waiting room. She was alone and sitting with her heads in her hands. The newcomers looked at one another, as more than one of them suspected that Allison had probably received bad news. Nevertheless, Joe boldly stepped forward and the others followed him.

"Hey, Allison," he greeted her.

Allison looked up. The bruises on her face were even darker today and her expression looked even emptier. "Hi."

"How's Marshall?" Joe asked.

Allison took a deep breath. "No change. He's still unconscious. The doctor said that there's a possibility he has some brain damage, but we won't know for sure until he wakes up. If he wakes up." She buried her face in her hands. "Everything's so terrible right now. Why did all of you come back here, anyway?"

"To see if you were all right and talk to you," Joe told her. "There's someone who wants to meet you."

Allison looked up again and this time she took her first real look at everyone in the group. Her gaze fell on Mario and she shrank back, probably noticing the family resemblance to Angelo. "Who are you? What do you want?"

Mario was about to reply, but Belle beat him to it. She hurried forward and sat in the chair right next to Allison. "My name's Belle, and this is my brother Mario. Angelo is our older brother."

"He never mentioned having siblings." Allison shrank back even further.

"No, probably not," Mario agreed. "We haven't seen him in five years."

Allison relaxed slightly. "Oh? You don't get along, then?"

"No, but we do want to find him," Mario said.

"Well, I can't help you with that. He's gone and that's okay with me. Oh, but I've got such a mess to try to sort out. And now Marshall…Even if he does recover, he's going to have to go to jail, isn't he?"

"That depends on what he did," Frank said.

Allison let out a long breath. She hesitated, but then she shook her head. "I'm going to have to tell, aren't I? I guess you need the whole story. The police have been saying that something happened to David Ferris, too. Ugh. This couldn't get any worse."

Belle patted her hand. "It's okay. We're all here to help you, first and foremost. You're right that the police need to hear the whole story, but if you'd rather not tell all of us, that's okay, too."

"No," Allison said. "I'd rather tell you and have you tell the police. I…I don't think I'd have the nerve to actually tell them." She paused and looked at the group. "But maybe it would be better if I only told you girls."

The others agreed to that, and the boys all backed off, although more than one of them was practically dying of curiosity to know what she had to say.

"Marshall and I are actually step-siblings," Allison began explaining. "Marshall's biological father…Well, that's a long story and it doesn't really matter. The only important part of it is that we're less than a year apart in age. We wound up in foster care at a young age and we were moved around so much that we never really had any friends. Everyone just pitied us. That's how we got into this mess in the first place. You see, after Marshall turned twenty-one, he…he started buying alcohol for this group of underage kids. They didn't have anyone else to buy it for them, so they all hung around him for that. I know it's illegal and he's going to have to go to jail for it…"

"I wouldn't worry too much about that," Callie consoled her. "In this state, the worst they can do to you for buying alcohol for minors is a year in jail and a fine. It's not like he'll be in jail for the rest of his life."

"That's better than I was thinking, but I still don't know what I'm going to do." Allison looked down at her hands. "See, I met Angelo about four months ago. I introduced him to all Marshall's friends. Of course, they liked Angelo better than Marshall. He started getting them into even worse trouble. Marshall never liked him and kept telling me to break up with him, but I…just couldn't leave him. Then, a few days ago, I found out that I'm, uh, pregnant and I guess Angelo isn't interested in starting a family." Her face was very red at this point and she didn't dare look at either of the other girls.

Belle's face had gone white, but Callie thought it looked more like anger than anything else. That idea was confirmed when Belle said, "That miserable…He just left you? Wait till I get my hands on him."

Allison shook her head. "I just never want to see him again. I don't know what I'm going to do. I can't raise a kid on my own."

"You don't have to do it all on your own," Belle replied. "We'll help. Uncle John and Mario and me. We'll help in any way you want us to."

"And if there's anything I can do," Callie added.

Allison almost smiled for the first time since Callie had met her. "That's sweet of you. But I don't even have a job or a home. And…well, lots of people offer to help, but most of them don't come through."

"Except for Marshall, right?" Belle asked.

"Yeah."

"That's because he's family, but we're basically family now, so you can count on us." Belle tapped her food a few times in thought. "A place to stay won't be too hard. You're always welcome with us, of course, but if you'd be on your own, we can help you with the expense until we can find you a job."

"Nobody wants to hire a pregnant woman. Especially a single one."

"It's a tough problem," Belle agreed. "But I've got an idea. Wait right here."

She hurried off, leaving Callie and Allison alone. The two girls sat there awkwardly for a moment or two, neither one knowing what to say. Then, finally, Allison asked, "We did you and your friends come to Marshall's apartment yesterday? I've been meaning to ask."

Callie began to explain, which of course necessitated explained about Frank and Joe being amateur detectives. That proved to be an interesting enough topic to Allison that she listened intently and seemed to forget her own troubles for the moment. For her part, Callie didn't mind talking about Frank at all, and the two girls began warming up to each other.

HBHBHBHBHB

The boys, meanwhile, were waiting more or less impatiently to hear what Allison's story was. They spent a little time catching up with Mario, since it had been so long since any of them had seen him, but they were all distracted and didn't get very far.

Joe spotted Lieutenant Durant coming down the hall and he jumped up to go and see if the officer had anything new to report. Durant muffled a grin when he saw him approaching.

"Ah, good, you're still in town," he said. "I've got a lot of other cases you and your brother could take over for me."

Joe wrinkled his forehead. "I thought you didn't turn over cases to teenagers."

"Yeah, so did I, but apparently our local paper didn't get that message. I assume you saw the paper this morning."

By this time, Frank had come over as well. He let out a nervous chuckle. "Yeah. That was something, wasn't it?"

Durant chuckled wryly. "I'm not sure what it was, exactly, but it was definitely something. He's had a lot of talks along these lines with Ms. Kelly Alston of the Southport Daily Chronicle, but Chief Osmund will have another talk with her, once he gets done fielding phone calls from irate citizens who don't like how Ms. Alston says the Southport PD does business. Hopefully, this mess won't cause you too much trouble."

"I don't see what trouble it can really cause," Frank said. "I mean, I can see how it could be a problem for the police, but it shouldn't be too much trouble for us. No one even knows us here in Southport, and people in Bayport aren't really surprised when they hear we're on a case."

"Speaking of which, Chief Osmund talked to your Chief Collig this morning, after reading that story," Durant said. "He told me what Collig said. I have to say, very impressive."

"Is that all you're going to say?" Tony asked.

Durant's face was unreadable as he replied, "I think that says it all."

"Well, all I can say is that it's a good thing Angelo isn't really a suspect in the serial killer case," Phil commented. "Could you charge a member of the press for anything if they tipped off a suspect, especially in that serious of a case?"

"It would depend on the situation," Durant said. "It would probably be worth looking into, though."

HBHBHBHBHB

"I don't know about this, Iola," Chet said, looking from his sister to the horse and back again.

"Oh, come on," Iola insisted. "It's not like I'm going to try jumpseat or anything like that right off the bat. I just want to see if I can sit in a saddle."

"Yeah, but maybe you ask the doctor first. Or at least Mom and Dad."

Iola turned her head sideways and raised her eyebrows. "You know none of them would ever agree until I prove to them that I can do it. All they want is to make sure I don't hurt again, but I can't live my whole life trying to keep from getting hurt. I wouldn't succeed and I'd be miserable for all my efforts."

The brother and sister were in the paddock behind their house. It was the very place where Iola had been injured, and Chet had always had a funny feeling being there ever since then. Iola did, too, but she didn't want to mention it. Before her injury, she had always been a very active person. She'd been doing her best to take part in whatever she could, but of course there always had to be modifications that kept constantly reminding her of her situation. Then, a week before, she had read an article about a young woman who had been paralyzed in a car accident and had learned to ride a horse again afterward. Ever since then, Iola had been dying to try it herself, especially since riding horses had been something she had been doing since she was a toddler. The only hitch had been that she needed help, and she was having a hard time convincing Chet to help her.

"Well…" Chet shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He didn't want to see anything happen to Iola, but he couldn't blame her for wanting to do this. "I guess it would be okay if you promise not to make Jackson move at all." Jackson was Iola's horse.

Iola scoffed. "I'm not making any dumb promises like that. What would be the point? But I do promise to take it slow and keep him at a walk, this time anyway. Is that good enough?"

"I guess it has to be."

"Thanks!" Iola beamed at him. "Now, could you go get the saddle and bridle? We'll have to figure out a way for me to tack him up myself, but for now, you'll have to help."

Though he was still not completely willing, Chet went and gathered up the tack. Then he started tacking up the horse. Once that was done, he and Iola got into a bit of a debate over what would be the best way to get her into the saddle. Although Iola was thin and not too heavy, Chet wasn't sure he could lift her all the way up into a saddle. Iola suggested using a stepladder, but climbing up a ladder, carrying Iola, and trying to keep Jackson holding still all at the same time was a tall order.

It took so much concentration that the siblings completely missed hearing a car drive up in front of their house. If they'd heard it, they probably would have been afraid that it was their parents returning and that they would put a stop to this project (at least, Iola would have been afraid of that—Chet probably would have been relieved).

As it turned out, it wasn't the Mortons, but rather Sally Marsh, a classmate of Chet's. She must have heard Chet and Iola talking because she came sauntering down to the paddock and called out to them. Iola frowned slightly when she saw her. She and Sally used to be fairly good friends, but in the last year or so, they had drifted apart. Either Sally was getting sillier and shallower or Iola was becoming mature enough to realize how silly and shallow Sally had always been. Whichever it was, Iola was none too pleased to see her.

Chet, on the other hand, was too pleased to see her. Sally was very pretty (and also an incorrigible flirt), and Chet was one of the dozen or so boys who were always vying for her attention. As soon as he realized that Sally was there, his face reddened and Iola could tell just by looking at him that he'd be tongue-tied.

"Hey, there," Sally said, making her voice deeper.

"Hi," was Iola's polite but unenthusiastic greeting.

"Uh, hi…hi," Chet said, earning himself an eye roll from Iola.

"What are you two up to?" Sally asked. "Oh, can I ride? I adore horses."

"Well, uh…" Chet began.

"I'm going to try riding, actually," Iola interrupted. "At least, I will as soon as I can get into that saddle."

Sally's eyes widened slightly. "You? Isn't that a little dangerous?"

"Jackson's a calm horse. I'll be fine."

"He's a tall horse, too. How are you going to get up there? Although, I suppose a big, strong man like Chet could lift you up there."

Chet swallowed hard. "Yeah, yeah. No sweat. I mean, I can. Come on, Iola."

Although Sally's presence was still unwanted by Iola, the incentive was just what Chet needed to lend him the extra strength to life Iola up high enough that she could scramble onto the saddle using her hands. Finally, she was seated astride the horse and Chet helped her put her feet in the stirrups.

"Okay," Iola said. She was feeling less secure than she expected. "Maybe I will just stay still for a little bit."

"You're marvelously brave," Sally said. "Though I've noticed before now that it runs in the family." She darted a look at Chet who looked like he couldn't believe what was happening.

As for Iola, she was starting to feel sick. She knew Sally didn't really have any interest in Chet; he wasn't her type. Sally was always going after the tall, handsome, muscular guys, not anyone as roly-poly as Chet. The only reason she'd be laying it on Chet this thick was because she wanted something, although Iola wasn't sure what it could possibly be.

After a minute or two, she decided to give walking a chance. She clicked her tongue, and instantly Jackson started forward at a slow, smooth pace. If Iola had expected Chet to walk beside her and help her if she started losing her balance, she was disappointed. His only interest at the moment seemed to be talking—or rather stammering—to Sally. It annoyed Iola, but she tried to ignore it as she concentrated on keeping her balance.

At first, all went well, and Iola began to even relax just a little. Then she tried turning Jackson slightly to the right. Somehow, the shift in direction caused her to lose her balance and she started slipping. She couldn't hold herself on with her legs at all and there was only so much she could do with her hands, so she slid right off and landed on the ground. Jackson stopped and turned his head to look at her, as if he didn't understand what the problem was.

"Uh, a little help here?" she called.

"Oh!" Sally practically screamed as she and Chet came running over. "What happened? Are you okay?"

"I knew something like this would happen," Chet added.

"So did I," Iola agreed. "I fell off. When you ride horses, you fall off sometimes. It's not a big deal. I'm not hurt. I just can't get up and get back in the saddle."

"I'd better leave you two alone," Sally said. "I'm afraid this is my fault since I was distracting Chet. I'll see you both at school tomorrow. And, Chet, I'll be looking forward to Friday."

As she hurried off, Iola looked up at Chet. "What's on Friday?"

"Can you believe it?" Chet asked dreamily. "She asked me out on a date."

Iola raised her eyebrows and turned to watch Sally leaving. She was definitely up to something, and Iola made up her mind right then to figure out what it was.

Author's note: Whew! I'm glad to have this chapter done. It gave me some trouble, including being way longer than I wanted it to be. Maybe that makes up a little for it being several days later than I wanted it to be, too. Thank you for reading! And especially, thank you to everyone who has reviewed the previous chapters and who will review this one! It really means a lot to me, even if it is just to say that you're reading and enjoying. And you were right about Allison, angelicalkiss. I was wondering if anyone would make that connection. I know there's a lot going on and none of it seems to have to do with the serial killer directly, but that will change before too long. The serial killer will make his entrance and some of the smaller side stories here will actually get wrapped up to make room for that one, or at least begin to be wrapped up. Most of them are here to set up for Frank and Joe to get mixed up in the serial killer case. You'll see how that all plays out. Until next time, God bless!