A/N: Thanks for the reviews, Leya and Virtute! I appreciate the comments on pacing. I want to make the case seem like it's unfolding naturally (with Frank and Joe not really knowing what the heck is going on yet), so I force myself to try and maintain a realistic pace. And, as far as brotherly teasing goes...that's my favorite stuff to write. I love banter...especially between these two guys. They make it easy. Thanks again to everyone who is reading! I appreciate it and hope you enjoy this chapter.

Chapter 12

The museum lobby had been transformed. Tiny white lights were strung everywhere, giving off a sparkling glow. Round tables filled the space, covered with white tablecloths and Scottish tartan. A string quartet at the far end of the room was playing background music, lending an elegant touch to the festivities.

"Oooh, Joe, this is so pretty," squealed Heather, clinging to his arm as she looked around her.

Joe grinned. "I figured you'd like it."

"I do," she replied. "Everything is so elegant."

Frank stepped up beside his brother. "Know where we're sitting?"

"No. I guess we're supposed to mingle first." Joe looked around, then tapped Frank on the arm. "I think we need to check in."

Frank nodded as he saw a small line forming by a table near the main entrance. He steered Callie in that direction.

She leaned into him as they took their place in line. "I can't believe someone was actually murdered here."

"Yeah." Frank's lips tightened into a thin line. "And so far he's gotten away with it."

Callie patted his arm. "You'll get him. You always do."

Frank chuckled. "I'm glad you're so confident."

"Hey, I haven't worked for your dad for this long and not learned a thing or two about the Hardy family. You won't give up until you find him." She turned her head and then sucked in her breath. "Who is that?"

Frank, Joe and Heather all turned in the direction of Callie's gaze to see Emily Clark walking across the room. Her gown was an icy mint green, which made her own emerald eyes a brilliant color. It was cut in a halter style with a beaded v-neckline and cinched waist that hugged her curves perfectly. Her hair was pulled back in an elegant, non-structured up-do that allowed a few wavy tendrils to escape, framing her face.

"That's Emily," Frank said in a low tone.

"She's beautiful," Callie breathed.

Joe swallowed hard as he watched her cross the lobby, a bright smile on her face. Who was she smiling for? Her date, obviously. He watched, his gut churning, to see who it was she greeted. She stretched her hands forward, reaching for someone in a tuxedo. He saw her lean forward to hug...Brian. Brian from the home for mentally disabled adults. Joe watched as the young man, blushing furiously, tried to slip a wrist corsage on Emily. She helped him with the elastic band, then admired the flowers and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. The kid looked like he was on cloud nine.

Emily slipped her hand through his arm and led him over to a group of adults across the room. Joe felt his stomach hit the floor. Brian was her date. He momentarily closed his eyes as the enormity of what he'd done washed over him. Feel like a moron now, you moron?

Heather tugged on his arm. "Joe, we need to get our name tags."

As Joe turned to her, he caught Frank's eye. His brother shook his head and mouthed, "I'm sorry."

Joe let out a deep sigh. He'd blown it big time and he knew it. And, there wasn't a darn thing he could do about it now.

OOOOOoooooOOOOO

Emily glanced across the lobby and caught the Hardy brothers out of the corner of her eye. Wow, those two can really wear a tux. She took a deep breath. Okay, put your eyes back in your head, Emily. Hostesses at museum parties don't have drool running down their chins when they greet the guests.

She spotted the pretty blonde hanging on Joe's arm and felt her heart contract in her chest. He brought a date. She watched the way the blonde touched him. Possessively. He brought a girlfriend. She felt tears stinging her eyes. I'm so stupid. What on earth made me think he was interested in me? He must have a hundred girls who want to go out with him. Just in this room alone. She mentally shook herself. Good grief, I need to pull myself together. You don't want a boyfriend, remember? That's the last thing you need right now. What do you care if Joe Hardy has a girlfriend? It has nothing to do with you. He's just a detective investigating Professor Ayres' murder. Nothing more.

Emily kept trying to convince herself of that as she pasted a happy smile on her face and touched Brian gently on the arm. "Joe and Frank are here. Do you mind if we go say hello to them?"

"Sure. I like them," Brian replied. "Let's go." He took Emily's hand and half dragged her across the room. "Hey, Joe!" he called out.

Joe turned around as Emily and Brian approached. He steeled himself for the impact as Brian stuck out his hand and shook Joe's vigorously. "Hey, Brian."

Brian turned to his left. "Hi, Frank," he said with a big grin.

"Hi, Brian, good to see you here." Frank gave him a friendly cuff on the shoulder.

"Guess what guys?" Brian continued. "I've got the prettiest date at the whole party." He pulled Emily forward.

"Brian, stop," Emily protested, a pink blush coloring her cheeks.

"Why? It's true."

Frank grinned. "Well, we won't argue with you there. Emily looks gorgeous."

"I'm sorry," she whispered under her breath.

"Don't be," Joe said. "We understand. And, he's right. You are definitely one of the prettiest women here tonight."

Heather gave Joe a hard nudge in the ribs.

"Uh, Emily, this is Heather. Heather Howell."

Emily nodded at her. "Nice to meet you, Heather."

Heather gave her a simpering smile. "You, too, Emily. I'm so happy to be here. Joe said this would be an amazing party and he's right."

"I hope you enjoy it. And, I hope you'll come back when the Scottish clans exhibit officially opens."

"Oh, I'm not much on museums," Heather said in a bored tone. "But I'm always up for a party."

"Well, I hope we can change your mind tonight," Emily said.

Heather shrugged and Joe looked at the floor.

"Um, Emily? I'd like you to meet Callie Shaw," Frank interrupted. "She's a good friend of mine. She works for my dad."

"Wow, I bet that's interesting," Emily said, extending her hand to Callie.

"It can be," Callie said with a smile. "Mr. Hardy has the same penchant for finding trouble as Frank and Joe."

"Hey, you can't say we don't come by it honestly," Frank protested.

"Well, I for one am really glad you do. They've been incredibly helpful around here," Emily said. "I don't know what we would have done this past week without them."

Before either Frank or Joe could respond, Brian grabbed Emily's arm excitedly. "Look, there's Duncan!"

Duncan MacLean appeared at the dais, and stood in front of a small podium with a microphone, poised to speak. Emily turned to the Hardys. "Excuse me, please. I need to go to work now. Thank you all for coming. And, very nice to meet you Heather and Callie," she called back as she hurried to the other side of the room, with Brian following her closely.

"Here," Frank said, handing Joe his nametag. "We're at table eight."

Joe sighed. "Yeah, okay."

He moved to head in that direction, Heather still clinging to his arm, when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see Stacey Kennedy, Emily's roommate, and her date, smiling at them.

"Joe, right?" Stacey asked.

"Yeah. Hi, Stacey, good to see you again."

She smiled. "You, too. Oh, this is my boyfriend, Eric Benson. Eric...Joe and Frank Hardy. They're the detectives helping with the museum murder case."

"Great to meet you," Eric replied, reaching out to shake their hands. "Emily was pretty shook up the other day when her office was busted into. She said you guys helped her out with that."

"Yeah," Stacey agreed. "Thanks for being there for her."

Joe had a stricken look on his face. "Wait...did you say your name was Eric?"

"Yeah, why?"

"And you're Stacey's boyfriend?"

Eric nodded. "Is that a problem?"

Joe shook his head. "No, I, I just heard Emily mention the other day that she would ask somebody named Eric to stay with her. I assumed she was talking about her boyfriend."

Eric and Stacey laughed.

"No," Stacey said. "She just asked if Eric wouldn't mind spending the night on the couch for a few days, since she was so upset over everything going on here."

"Which I was more than happy to do," he interjected.

Stacey smiled. "Emily doesn't have a boyfriend, Joe. She hardly even dates. She claims she's too busy with school and work, but I think she's a little afraid...after what happened, I mean."

Joe looked puzzled. "What happened?"

Stacey looked as though she'd spoken too hastily. "Um, I'm sorry. I've said too much. Listen, we'd better get going. Nice to see you again."

She hurried off with Eric to their table at the front of the room.

"Joe, can we sit down now?" Heather asked. "I'm starving."

"Yeah, sure." Joe led her over to their table and pulled out a chair for her.

"Oooh, shrimp cocktail," she squealed as she placed her napkin on her lap.

Joe didn't reply as he searched the room for Emily. He spotted her near the dais leading an older couple to their seats. Must be some of those wealthy patrons she was talking about, he surmised. He felt his heart sink as he watched her talking with them and laughing. How could I have been so stupid? Stacey's words echoed in his head. She hardly even dates...I think she's a little afraid after what happened. He sighed. What was Stacey talking about? And how can I find out?

OOOOOoooooOOOOO

Duncan tapped on the microphone from his position at the podium. "Is this thing on? Okay, good. Well, welcome ladies and gentlemen to our semi-annual dinner to honor our wonderful patrons and to celebrate the opening of our latest exhibit, 'The Legends and Lore of old Scotland'. My name is Duncan MacLean, and I am the assistant curator here at the Bayport Art Museum. This exhibit is very near and dear to my heart, because...in case you can't tell...I'm Scottish."

He waited for the low chuckles of the audience to die down before continuing. "We would like to invite you to enjoy your meal, and then, as you can see, we have some of the artifacts from the exhibit on display here in the main lobby for you to examine at your leisure. Thank you again for coming. We appreciate your support."

Frank turned to Joe. "Looks like the cursed charmstone is one of the featured items on display tonight. I wonder whose idea that was?"

"Cursed charmstone?" Callie asked. "Sounds like there's a story there."

Frank smiled and began to relate what happened in Emily's office and the shipping room and Duncan's response as the waiters began coming around the room with green salads.

"Wow," Heather inserted. "You guys really have to put up with some weirdoes, don't you?"

"Part of the territory," Joe replied, as he smiled his thanks to a waiter.

"That would kind of get on my nerves," Heather said, spearing her lettuce with a fork.

"Speaking of getting on my nerves," Frank began. Joe kicked him in the shins roughly and Frank chuckled.

"Well, it looks like Duncan isn't taking any chances with security tonight," Joe said, changing the subject. "He's got all the guards who work here on duty."

"No kidding," Frank agreed. "I wonder if that's to help the people attending feel safer, too. Emily mentioned that quite a few regulars to this event have called and cancelled."

"You mean because of Professor Ayres?" Callie wanted to know.

Frank nodded and gestured towards the empty seats at their table. "These people aren't here. And Emily said this dinner has always been a sell out before."

"You know," Joe said thoughtfully, munching on a lettuce leaf, "maybe that's an angle we need to look at more closely."

"People wanting the museum to fail?" Frank asked.

"Yeah. What better way to do it than scare away patrons and contributors?"

"You've got a good point," Frank agreed. "Let's start checking that out tomorrow morning."

Heather pouted. "Oh, I was hoping maybe we could go skiing, Joe. There's supposed to be snow in the mountains."

"Sorry, I'm on a case," he told her. "In fact, even being here tonight is part of my job."

Heather sighed as she picked up her water glass. "What happened to you, Joe Hardy? You used to be so much fun in high school."

"He grew up?" Frank suggested, smiling when Callie shot him a warning glance.

"Well, just because you're a grown up doesn't mean you have to get all responsible," Heather huffed.

"Actually Heather, I think that's exactly what it means," Frank countered, stifling a laugh as he felt Callie's foot nudge his own.

Heather opened her mouth to say something, but stopped as the room was suddenly plunged into darkness. A confused murmur arose from the crowd that grew into pandemonium when a gunshot echoed throughout the cavernous lobby.

Joe grabbed Heather's hand and yanked her down under the table. "Stay here and don't move," he ordered.

"What? Why? What's going on? Was that a gun?" Heather's shrieking questions continued at a non-stop pace.

"Stay down, Cal," Frank said, in a low voice. "We'll be back."

Heather clutched at Joe. "Where are you going? Don't leave me, I'm scared."

"It's okay. Just stay here and be quiet."

"Heather, come here," Callie said in a low voice, taking the girl's arm and holding onto it.

Frank and Joe pushed their chairs around their dates as they huddled underneath the table. "We'll be back," Joe assured them.

"What do they think they're doing?" Heather wailed.

"Shh," Callie hissed. "It's their job. Now sit here and be quiet."

OOOOOoooooOOOOO

"I need to find Emily," Joe said to Frank as they tried to make their way to the front of the lobby.

Another shot splintered the air, followed almost immediately by the sound of breaking glass. Frank and Joe hit the floor and began crawling toward the dais amid the screams and shouts of frightened guests.

Joe's mind was a jumble of thoughts. Who is doing this? What are they after? Who are they after? And the one thought over-riding them all...Where is Emily?

"Joe, we need some lights," Frank called to him over the din. "I'm going to try to make my way to the breaker. I saw the box the other day at the bottom of the basement stairs."

"I'm going to get Emily," Joe shouted back.

"Be careful," Frank warned him.

"You, too."

Joe continued in the direction of the dais, trying to listen for Emily's voice through the din around him. As he bumped into the edge of the platform, he raised himself halfway up. "Emily!" he shouted.

OOOOOoooooOOOOO

Frank crept slowly towards the marble stairs leading to the museum basement. He paused, listening for any sounds that might give away the location of the gunman. Not hearing anything he moved forward more rapidly until he reached the staircase. He listened again, then crouching, hurried down the stairs.

Moving his hands along the wall, he finally felt the large metal breaker box. It was open. Frank quickly began flipping the levers, hoping the lights were going on upstairs. As he reached for the last group of switches, he felt something hard strike him on the back of his head, and his world went black just as the lights came on.