Chapter 3 - The Cover
Fenton Hardy escorted the haggard dean to his car and returned to the study to find his two sons on the couch, huddled together with their heads down, quietly muttering something to each other. He made his way back to his own chair behind the desk and the two immediately stopped talking, confirming his suspicion that they definitely knew something he didn't.
"Quite the lucky timing that this case has arrived to coincide with the free week you two have from school," he observed mildly, watching the two of them.
"That's what we were just talking about too, dad," Joe piped up immediately with a bright grin. "Isn't it just great?"
Of course, they had already made up their minds to dive right into the case as he knew they would. The case involved children who were not much older than Frank and Joe, and it made sense that the two would be able to insert themselves into this group more easily than an adult could. Following in his footsteps, his sons had solved a lot of cases already by themselves and he was proud of their accomplishments. He had taught them the ropes, they had learned a lot on their own and he trusted them to handle themselves. And, just as Mr Thornton had stated, he had to agree that they were the best choice for this assignment.
But he was their dad first and just like any parent, he worried, especially when he had to knowingly send his boys into dangerous situations. Despite all the guarantees from the dean and the security team, he knew that things went wrong more often than not, and his boys got caught in the middle.
He absolutely hated it when they got hurt.
Inhaling deeply, he brought his mind back to focus on the two hopeful gazes that were centred on him, waiting for him to give the go-ahead. He smiled. He would do that after he got some answers from his suddenly very secretive sons.
"It is," he agreed pleasantly. "Before I agree to this, however, I have some questions for the two of you."
Joe's grin lost a fraction of its brightness and Frank's eyes narrowed slightly. He had learned over the years that those two signs meant his boys were getting ready to go on the defensive. It confirmed his earlier hunch when he had seen them react to the name of the man from the security team.
"What do you wanna know?" Joe asked innocently.
"Well, for starters, how do you know this Gray character?" he got straight to the point.
The two exchanged a quick glance. An entire conversation took place within that half a second. Fenton suppressed a sigh. While he was glad beyond words that his sons were so close to each other, sometimes it was a nightmare when he had to be their parent.
"We met him during our last case," Frank shrugged.
He waited patiently for them to elaborate.
"Said he was from New York," Joe added, adopting the same nonchalant tone his brother had. "He was investigating Al-Rousasa… Like internal affairs or something."
"Internal Affairs and the Secret Service," Fenton muttered. "Two very distinctive and different branches in different law enforcement units. He seems to get around."
"He wasn't very keen on sharing about himself the few times we came across him," Frank added.
It sounded plausible. They weren't lying, he knew that. But they weren't being entirely truthful either. Their silence told him that it was all he would learn from his sons about the enigmatic Mr Gray. Well, he had other contacts where he could get more information about the man. Pushing the matter away to be dealt with later, he brought up his next, more important concern.
"Joe, how are you, really?"
It was obvious to him and Laura that their youngest hadn't been doing that well lately. The death of his girlfriend had hit him hard. He wasn't sure whether letting them go out on a case by themselves all the way to New York was a good idea this early.
"I'm fine dad," Joe replied, after another meaningful glance at Frank.
"Your mom and I know you've been having trouble dealing with what happened. We are worried about you, especially after what happened there at Morton's," he said.
Laura had told him about the call she had received from Mary Morton, about the close call his sons had had with a freak storm along with her husband and Chester. Then they had shown up there again only three days ago in time to save their son from drowning in the creek. Then there was their concern about the place being haunted, of all things.
"What do you mean?"
"Chet's mom called your mom," he told them, earning more shuffling and secretive looks.
"It's just that Iola's death was hard, dad," Joe admitted quietly. "We kinda hung around at Chet's to talk about stuff, and the things that happened, well, we have no idea, just the right place at the wrong time I guess…"
"As for finding Chet," Frank said when Joe trailed off. "That was actually us being in the right place at the right time."
"Yeah, we don't know what happened," Joe added. "It was freaky, both times. But we met Chet yesterday in school. He said things were back to normal again, they had the pastor visit them a few times too."
"Do you want to talk to somebody, Joe?" Fenton had to ask. It was good that they had each other to talk to. But Frank wasn't a grief counsellor and if Joe didn't feel comfortable talking to him or Laura, he had to find someone his son was willing to get help from.
"Frank and I spoke to Father Hendricks a few days ago," Joe said softly.
"You met the pastor?!"
Joe ducked his head at Fenton's outburst. Out of anyone he could have spoken to, Fenton had not expected Joe to go to the pastor.
"According to him, grief manifests in strange ways," Joe murmured, his gaze fixed on a spot on the floor. "He said that praying for the dead helps and that we were always welcome if, you know, needed to talk or something."
"Did speaking to the pastor help?" Fenton asked gently. Joe looked apprehensive, probably because of the way he reacted. He didn't honestly care who he was talking to as long as it helped him.
"Yeah," Joe replied. "I've been sleeping well and everything," then he pointed at Frank. "Ask him."
"He does," Frank nodded.
"You know you can talk to us too if you need anything, right?"
"Yes, dad, thanks," Joe looked up and gave him a small, genuine smile. "But I'm fine, truly."
Fenton believed him. Maybe this case would be the distraction his sons needed to get their heads back in the clear all the way. Although it was a very unconventional, and oftentimes dangerous hobby, his sons were good at what they did.
"Alright then," he said, sliding the file Thornton had given him over the desk's smooth surface towards them. They both broke into identical grins as Frank grabbed the file quickly, possibly before he could change his mind.
"I meant what I said," he reminded his sons as they made to leave. "That university sounds like a gruesome place to be these days."
"We'll be fine dad," Frank said, hugging the file closer.
"We have five days and a weekend in the end, dad, that's seven days," Joe put in. "More than enough time to mingle with some kids and find dirt, then we pull out."
"You'll check in with me every day," he reminded them of the rules as he always did when they took over a case. "And watch each other's backs."
"Don't we always?"
-o0o-
Their dad made the call to inform Mr Thornton that they'd take the case on the same evening and a car was sent for them on Saturday morning, bright and early, driven by Arthur Gray himself. He passed them two more files over his shoulder as they got in the back in lieu of a greeting.
"What are these?" Frank asked, taking one for himself and passing the other to Joe.
"Your cover stories."
"Franklin Castellanos," Frank started to read out loud. "Born on November 24th, son of Felix and Loretta Castellanos… sounds Spanish."
"Felix Castellanos is a private investor whose family immigrated to the States three generations ago," Gray answered his query without turning his head. "He's an extremely rich, private man, keeps to himself and nobody knows exactly what he has invested his considerable wealth in. You two are his only sons who are on a fact-finding tour to see if Lincoln college fits your needs and wants so that you can enrol in the next semester."
"Awesome!" Joe laughed. "We are rich kids. Also, we share a birthday according to this cover. Joseph Castellanos was born exactly three minutes and forty-five seconds after Franklin. Why twins?"
"The Saunders kids themselves are twins, I'm sure Thornton filled you in on that–"
"Yeah," Frank said. "We read the file you sent for us with him."
Gray's eyes darted to his rearview mirror before focusing back on the road again. Frank thought he seemed a bit disconcerted by Joe's query. Or maybe it was the group whose safety and security he was responsible for, that he wasn't very comfortable with, Frank wasn't sure.
"They have a certain fascination towards twins," Gray said slowly, stressing the word as if he found this quality of theirs a touch disturbing. "There are two more pairs in their inner circle, and they've recently recruited one more from the college. We figured you'd have an easier time getting closer to them if we sent you in as a pair as well…"
Frank read the rest of the bio quickly and silently. According to it, he and Joe were fraternal twins, turning twenty in the coming winter. They were interested in becoming criminal defence lawyers, which seemed like an act of rebellion on the surface for the only sons of a businessman. Or it could be taken as a foresightful career choice if one was paranoid enough about wealthy, secretive families.
"I guess I'm getting a dye job," Joe huffed, irritated. "Look, they already edited a photo to see what I'd look like. At least they are not making me wear contacts."
He suppressed a grin at the image of the two of them. Joe was pretty attached to his looks and Frank understood his brother's consternation over the fact that they had decided to go with Frank's appearances rather than his own. Dark hair matched the cover story that they were of Spanish descent.
"These bios are very thorough," Frank observed, turning his attention away from his pouting brother to the spy. He was pretty sure they were done by a professional behavioural analyst. Every detail was chosen for a reason, and there were addendums on each and every aspect of their individual covers, explaining in detail the reasons for those choices. "I mean, it says Franklin's zodiac sign is Libra, and he's calm, quiet, often unemotionally logical and obsessed with maintaining equilibrium–"
"Sounds like you alright," Joe cut him off with a snicker.
"Joseph shares the same sign and personality traits," Frank levelled a look at his brother and said evenly. "Guess who's going to have to work for it?"
"Why are these particulars so important?" Frank asked Gray while Joe continued to read his own file, muttering under his breath.
"I'm sure you'll understand once you get to meet these kids," Gray replied. "They are strange, unlike any other kids of the same age I've ever known. They are silent, hardly ever use their phones and are not at all obsessed with the things you might expect a couple of twenty-year-old, good-looking girls would be into, you know,"
"What do you mean?"
"They don't wear makeup, not into fashion like nice clothes or shoes, and they have no interest whatsoever in boys," Gray rattled off, sounding genuinely confused. "Instead, they read ancient Latin manuscripts, speak to each other in some kind of ASL derivative most of the time and they have this habit of staring at people…"
"Staring at people?" Joe repeated when the spy went silent.
"Yeah, in the eyes, as if they could see through your soul or something," Gray shuddered.
Frank exchanged a puzzled look with his brother. It seemed hilarious that the enigmatic Mr Arthur Gray seemed to be this intimidated…scared of two eccentric girls. But when you added the incidents that had been happening at Lincoln College and the spreading rumours regarding the unusual behaviour of the girls and their social circle, Frank had to admit that it painted a rather troubling picture.
"Why is the Network interested in them anyway?" Frank inquired. "Have they done anything illegal that caught your attention?"
"Nothing solid," Gray admitted with a sigh. "But there is circumstantial evidence, suspicions and some not very reliable eyewitness accounts. When you put them all together, something very concerning emerges…"
"Can you tell us about it?"
"I have to," he let out a long, weary sigh. "Seeing as we're sending you in to find out more about it."
"Well, Mr Gray, there's nothing but endless hours and empty roads before us," Joe said, grinning, enjoying the spy's obvious reluctance. "And we're all ears."