A/N: Thanks for the reviews, Leya and Virtute! I love feedback! LOL I'm glad you liked Con and Joe, Leya. It was fun to write. I like Con and wanted to include him somewhere in the story. And thanks, Virtute, for your comments about Emily. I'm not into completely helpless girls either. And I'm glad you thought Joe was funny. I love writing banter between them...their personalities make it easy, so there will be lots more of that coming up. And I really hope you enjoy Fenton in this chapter. He's one of my favorite "Hardy Boys" characters. And, just a heads up for all readers...this is based on the 70s TV show canon...so Laura Hardy is again for reading!

Chapter 21

Fenton Hardy paused as he descended the stairs the next morning. He sniffed the air. Bacon. Don't tell me Frank and Joe are cooking?

He chuckled as he opened the front door and grabbed his newspaper off the porch. He sniffed the air again. That smells like something is baking. Something really delicious. Something with cinnamon. The boys don't even know where we keep the cinnamon let alone how to cook with it.

A puzzled expression on his face, he wandered into the kitchen. Standing behind the counter was a beautiful, dark-haired young woman he'd never seen before in his life. His expression changed to one of astonishment. The girl looked up and smiled at him. Gorgeous. Fenton realized his mouth was hanging open and quickly shut it. "I-I'm Fenton Hardy."

"Emily Clark", she said, still smiling. "Nice to meet you."

"You too," he replied, moving toward her.

"I hope you don't mind that I took over your kitchen."

"No, not at all. Whatever you're making smells wonderful." He took a seat on a stool in front of the counter. Okay, Fenton, this is one conversation you've neglected to have with the boys, but you should have seen it coming. Frank is twenty-two. Joe is twenty-one. Why didn't occur to you that they might want to bring a girl home to spend the night?

"Would you like some coffee?" Emily smiled at him as she filled a mug and set it in front of him.

"Yeah, that'd be great." He returned the smile as he added a teaspoon of sugar and stirred it with a spoon. She looks more like Joe's type. Breathtakingly beautiful. "So Emily, are you a student at Bayport?"

"Yes, I'm majoring in Art History and French."

Frank, Fenton thought. Definitely Frank. "Wow, that sounds interesting. How did you meet my son?"

"He needed to attend a cultural experience for his Humanities class and didn't want to sit through an opera." She gave him a dimpled smile as she sliced some coffee cake and set it on a plate. "He thought a tour of an art exhibit would be less painful."

Joe. That would be Joe. "This looks delicious," Fenton said as she set the plate down and handed him a fork. "Do you like to cook?"

"Love it," she said, her eyes lighting up. "I don't have much opportunity at school. No time. So, when Frank and Joe brought me here last night and I saw your kitchen, I couldn't resist."

Fenton choked on his coffee. "Frank and Joe?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Is it too hot?" Emily's voice was full of concern.

"No, no, it's fine. Very good, actually." He cleared his throat. "Um, did you say Frank and Joe brought you home?"

"Yes," she smiled. "They're both so nice, Mr. Hardy. You must be very proud of them."

Not right at moment, Fenton thought dryly.

OOOOOoooooOOOOO

Joe groaned and glanced at the clock on his bedside table. Eight-thirty. He yawned and sniffed the air. Aunt Gertrude must be cooking bacon.

Wait a minute, Aunt Gertrude went to Southport to spend some time with her friend. Which could only mean...Emily. Joe jumped up quickly and looked around the room. Grabbing a pair of sweat pants from the back of a chair, he hastily pulled them on. He reached for a t-shirt as he stepped into the bathroom. He brushed his teeth and splashed cold water on his face before exiting and bumping into Frank in the hallway.

"Emily must be up." Frank had already showered and was dressed in jeans and long-sleeve polo shirt.

"Yeah," Joe mumbled, silently cursing himself for not rising sooner. He tried his best to straighten his hair.

"Which probably means Dad is, too." Frank headed downstairs, followed by Joe. He paused at the swinging doors leading to the kitchen. "This should be interesting," he said with a grin.

Joe rolled his eyes as he tried to move past Frank. His brother held out his arm to stop him. "Wait," he whispered. "Let's listen to the infamous Fenton Hardy do some master detective work."

OOOOOoooooOOOOO

"So, Emily," Fenton said with a smile, as he stirred his coffee. "Have my boys been treating you well?"

"They're so nice," she replied. "I don't know what I would have done last night without them." She bent her head down as she chopped a green pepper. "Joe saved my life."

"Saved your life?"

"Some maniac broke into my house," she explained, hastily wiping away a tear from her eye. "I don't know what he was after. I called Joe and he and Frank came right away."

"Did they catch the guy?"

She shook her head. "He got away. The police couldn't even find him." Emily sighed. "I was so scared. Joe was nice enough to invite me to stay here." She looked up. "I hope that's okay."

"Of course," Fenton reassured her. "You can stay as long as you like." He winked at her. "Especially if you cook."

Emily giggled. "Do you like omelets?"

"Love them."

OOOOOoooooOOOOO

"Is Dad flirting with her?" Joe was incredulous.

Frank grinned. "You'd better get in there if you want to hang onto your woman."

"Unbelievable," Joe muttered as he burst through the swinging doors and into the kitchen. "Morning, everyone."

Emily smiled at him and Fenton turned, raising an eyebrow in his youngest son's direction.

"Dad, I see you've met Emily." He stepped behind the counter and put his arm around her shoulders possessively. "Did you sleep okay?" he asked her.

"Yes, thank you. I felt very safe here." She turned and gestured to Fenton. "And I've been having a lovely conversation with your father."

"Yeah, I heard." Joe turned around to see the coffee cake on the counter and bacon being kept warm in the oven. "Wow, this looks great."

"Smells great, too," Frank added as he stepped into the room. "You didn't have to do this."

"I wanted to," she insisted. "After all you've done for me, the least I can do is make you breakfast."

"I'm not objecting," Frank said. "It's far better than what we would have had."

"Great." Emily smiled. "Then tell me what you want in your omelet and we can get started."

While Joe was putting in his breakfast order, the telephone rang and Frank stepped across the room to answer it. After a short conversation, he returned to the kitchen counter. "That was Con," he announced.

"Oh, really?" Joe handed Emily a plate with the green pepper she'd chopped. "What did he have to say?"

"The house has been cleared. They didn't find a lot of evidence, except for the piece of glass Emily stabbed the intruder with. They're taking that to the lab."

Joe nodded. "So, then what we need to do is go back there after breakfast and see if we can figure out what our bad guy was looking for."

"How will you do that?" Emily wanted to know.

"Well, first let's start with anything you may have brought home from work," Frank said. "We have to assume that with what happened at the museum, this guy thinks you have something that could be damaging and he wants it back."

Emily's eyes widened. "You mean, you think it was the murderer who attacked me last night?"

"We would have no way of knowing that," Joe spoke up, glaring at Frank. "He could have been after something that belonged to one of your roommates."

"B-but he saw me. He knew it was me and he asked me specifically where it was." Emily's eyes clouded. "I have no idea what he was talking about though."

Joe ran his hand up and down her arm reassuringly. "It's okay. I don't want you to worry. We're going to get this guy. I promise."

OOOOOoooooOOOOO

Emily hesitated as she watched Frank open the door to her house later that morning and step inside. He turned around. "I'll walk through and make sure it's okay first if that will help."

"I-I'm sorry. I feel like such a baby."

Joe patted her back reassuringly. "Don't be ridiculous. What you're feeling is perfectly normal."

"I'll check things out. You two wait here." Frank walked through the front door and headed toward the bedrooms while Joe led Emily inside.

She stopped and looked around the mess that had been her living room. Joe watched as her eyes touched on every object, her distress growing visibly.

"Everything's all right back there," Frank said. "I'll just check the kitchen."

"The kitchen," she whispered, her expression growing more fearful. She stepped toward Joe and unconsciously slipped her hand into his. "I-I don't know if..."

"You don't have to go in there right now," he said gently.

"It's just that I can still feel him grabbing me. He wanted to hurt me. He would have if you–"

"Emily, it's okay. I'm here now." He squeezed her hand. "I'll keep you safe."

"I know you will." She sighed deeply and Joe watched her shoulders stiffen as she steeled herself from within. "Okay, let's get to work."

He smiled at her. "It'll be all right."

Frank re-entered the living area. "What do you say we start with the bedroom? I noticed Emily's was the only one disturbed."

She paled. "That means he knew which bedroom was mine. So, he's either a friend of mine or he's been stalking me, right?" She stared at Joe, her eyes wide. "Oh my gosh, I can't trust anyone."

He turned and rested both of his hands on her shoulders. "You can trust us. Me and Frank."

She stared into his eyes and nodded. "I know. I do. I do trust you." She tried to smile. "Thank you. I know I must look like a complete ninny. I don't mean to."

Joe slipped his arm around her waist. "You don't. Now, let's get to the bottom of this, okay?"

They walked down the hallway and Joe paused as he peered into another bedroom before he reached Emily's. "Who lives here?"

"Oh, that's Kate and Julie's room. They're doing study abroad in Paris this semester. They'll be back in January."

They continued down the hall to the bedroom Emily shared with Stacey. She stepped through the doorway and gasped. Just about everything she owned had been turned upside down, opened, spilled or rummaged through. "It will take me weeks to clean this up."

"No, it won't," Joe assured her. "We're here to help."

Frank stood at the entrance to her room, a pensive look on his face. "You know what I've noticed? He's after paper."

"What?" Joe asked.

"Look at her desk." Frank pointed to the old-fashioned secretary in the corner. "All the drawers are opened, but only if they could have held paper. The rest of the stuff is messed up, but it's just been pushed out of the way. All those folders have been rummaged through. The same thing with the living room. He only went through the bookcase and anything else with piles of paper on it. The rest of the stuff was damaged because it was in his way."

"So, you're saying he was looking for a document of some sort?" Joe clarified.

"Something written down." Frank walked over to Emily's desk. "Look at this middle drawer. If he were looking for a key or something like that, this would be messed up more. Clearly, the guy opened it, didn't see any paper and moved on. The files are spread out all over the place. Those were searched."

"You're right," Joe said slowly. "And whatever it is, he thinks you have it, Em."

"I wish I knew what it was," she said. "I'd gladly give it back if that meant whoever is doing this would leave me alone."

"Well," Frank said, a thoughtful expression on his face, "let's start going through all this stuff. Maybe we can find whatever it was he couldn't."

OOOOOoooooOOOOO

Having finished straightening the top of Emily's desk, Joe turned to retrieve some items that had been dumped out of her dresser drawers. He righted the drawer nearest him and began sorting through the clothing that lay closest to it. Lace. He was holding handfuls of lace. Slowly he separated the items. Panties. Very tiny, very sexy panties. He swallowed hard as he glanced across the room where Emily was browsing through a file folder.

He thought she must have felt his gaze on her, because she looked up, then burst out laughing. "Oh, sorry. You don't need to put away my lingerie. I can do that later."

Joe gave her a wicked grin. "So these are yours."

"You discovered my secret," she smiled, "I'm a girly-girl at heart. I love lacy things." She picked up papers that had been strewn near her and put them back in the file.

"Hmm," he remarked laying her undergarments gently in the drawer. "What do you know? I love lacy things, too."

Emily hung her head, and Joe could tell she was trying to hide the blush creeping up her cheeks as she reached toward another pile of scattered papers.

Frank interrupted the conversation as he entered the bedroom with an accordion file in his hands. "Emily?"

"Yeah?" She scrambled to her feet.

He held up the file. "This is museum stuff, right?"

She nodded.

"Do you keep anything else from the museum here in the house?"

"Um, no, not usually." She walked down the path she and Joe had managed to clear in her bedroom. "I try to get all my work done there. Why?"

"Well, it's obvious to me in the way your intruder went over this file that it contained some stuff he was interested in."

"What do you mean?" Joe asked, walking toward his brother and taking the papers he was holding.

"This was spread out neatly on top of the television. He was looking for something in here...carefully," Frank explained.

"There's nothing important in it, though," Emily said. "It's just some mock-ups for publicity on the Scottish clans exhibit." She stood in front of Joe and watched as he leafed through the papers. "There isn't even anything missing."

"Maybe not," Frank said, "but it's a huge clue. Whatever this guy was looking for definitely has to do with the museum."

"But why me? Why would he think I have something?" Emily asked. "I don't even look at important documents there, let alone take them home."

"Maybe whatever it is you have, it's something you acquired accidentally," Frank mused.

"I'm not following you," Emily said.

"I mean, maybe you picked up something meant for someone else. Or someone gave you something meant for someone else," Frank explained.

"Well, I suppose that's possible," she said slowly. "I haven't come across anything though."

Joe began pacing the floor, lost in thought. "Whatever it was this guy was after, he hasn't found it." He looked up at Emily. "You heard him searching the house before he found you in the bathroom, right?"

She nodded.

"And when he grabbed you, he asked you 'where was it?'"

Emily shivered slightly at the memory. "Yes. He grabbed me by the hair and said, 'Now you're going to tell me where it is. We can do this the easy way or the hard way.'"

Joe looked at Frank. "So whatever he was looking for, he didn't find it in these papers."

Frank rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Emily, do you keep any information on the museum somewhere besides your office or here?"

"No, not usually."

Frank sighed. "Do you have another locker on campus, or anything like that?"

"No."

Joe noticed she was becoming visibly upset again. He put his arm around her shoulders. "Hey, do you by chance have some sodas here or something? I'm kind of thirsty after all that cleaning."

She smiled. "Of course. I'm sorry I didn't offer you both something sooner. Hang on, I'll be right back."

She started for the kitchen and paused at the door, the scene from last night vivid in her mind. She took a deep breath and forced herself into the room, her gaze focused only on the refrigerator. "You are not going to let this creep make you his victim forever," she whispered as she reached in and grabbed a pitcher of lemonade.

OOOOOoooooOOOOO

"What do you think?" Joe asked Frank when Emily left the living room.

"I think this guy is serious and he's not going to give up until he has what he wants," Frank responded.

"And he's pretty convinced Emily has it."

Frank nodded. "I think he knows she does, which means he was probably the one who inadvertently gave her what he's now looking for."

"Then we need to get her to tell us everyone she's spoken with or dealt with in regard to this Scotland exhibit," Joe said.

Emily stepped back into the room carrying a small tray with three tall glasses on them filled with lemonade and ice. "Here you go."

Joe hurried to her side to take the tray. She smiled up at him, her eyes shining. "I did it. I went into the kitchen all by myself."

It dawned on him what he'd just asked her to do and his stomach sank. "Oh, Emily, I'm sorry. I should have come with you. Or better yet, gotten the drinks on my own. What a jerk I am."

"No," she said, shaking her head. "I needed to do that. I don't want to be afraid all the time."

Frank stepped over and picked up a glass. "Good job, Em. And I don't think you should be afraid all the time either. But until this guy's caught, you do need to be extremely careful."

"And I don't think you should stay here either," Joe said.

"Oh." Her face fell. "Well, maybe I can bunk with some friends in the dorms."

"What are you talking about?" Joe asked. "You can stay with us."

"I couldn't," she said. "You two have done so much already. I-I can't just camp out at your house."

Joe handed her a glass and set the tray down. "I insist," he said, holding her gaze. "I want you where I know you're safe."

"But..." she protested.

"But nothing," he continued. "We live in a safe neighborhood, our house has a great alarm system, and my dad is a former NYPD detective. You can't get that in the dorms." He smiled at her. "You're staying with us. End of discussion."

Emily crossed her arms in front of her. "Do you always get your way, Joe Hardy?"

"No, he doesn't," Frank said with a grin.

"But this time I am," he insisted.

She gave him a sly smile. "This time. But don't expect me to give into you this easily again, mister."

"Go pack," Joe told her with a chuckle.

She set her drink on the coffee table and disappeared down the hall to her bedroom.

"She just gave into you again," Frank said in disbelief.

"It's about time," Joe sighed as he sipped his lemonade.