Author's Note: Once again, thank you so much to everyone reading and following this story! I would especially like to thank BMSH, max2013, and EvergreenDreamweaver for your reviews on the last chapter.

Chapter XIV

Fifteen years earlier

As soon as he had seen the body, Mitchell Johnson had instantly become a no-nonsense police detective, taking everything in hand. The change had surprised Carson a bit, since Johnson had seemed such an easy-going sort of person before that. More than that, though, stumbling on what was obviously a murder had interrupted their investigation of the Moriare brothers and that frustrated Carson. It hadn't been until hours later when they had finally left the apartment building, and Johnson had offered to give Carson a ride home.

"I don't get it," Carson said as they drove toward his apartment. "Couldn't you have had someone else investigate that? We wasted the whole afternoon."

"I don't think so," Johnson replied. "Besides, Fenton radioed in that he had picked up the Moriare brothers' trail and was following them. He's bound to have found out something."

"But aren't we supposed to be working on that case, too?" Carson asked. "Why spend so much time on this other case?"

"Because the minute I saw that bathroom, I knew this was the handiwork of the same murderer," Johnson told him. "The scene screamed Sherlock Holmes. Not so much as the other one, sure, but it was pretty much unmistakable all the same."

Carson looked over at him from the passenger seat in bewilderment. "What's so Holmes-ish about a guy drowned in a bathtub?"

"Nothing – it would be much more Holmes-ish for it to have been a pool." Johnson smirked a little. "This case – oh, boy. It's like a dream. I mean, the murders are awful and all, but this is why I first wanted to be a cop. I grew up reading Sherlock Holmes and Agatha Christie and Father Brown and all the rest. To be actually solving a series of crimes based on Sherlock Holmes stories –"

"Okay." Carson wasn't sure whether to be amused or a little alarmed at the officer's enthusiasm. "But what was it that made this so obviously Holmes?"

"The seeds," Johnson said. "Didn't you see the seeds?"

"Yeah," Carson said slowly. "There were some seeds on the sink. What about it?"

"They were orange seeds." Johnson said it like he was making a grand revelation. "And there were five of them. And the guy had been drowned." When Carson merely stared at him blankly, he went on, "It's what happened in one of the stories – 'The Five Orange Pips.' In it, the KKK murders three guys, but before they do, they send them each five orange seeds in the mail. The first guy to get murdered is found drowned in a pool in his garden."

"Wait. You're not saying we're dealing with the KKK and the Irish Mob, are you?" Carson asked, alarm in his voice.

"Hmm." Johnson mused over the possibility. "That would be something. But I doubt it. It seems to be pretty solidly a mob connection. I don't know if you caught the name of the guy who got killed, but he was Kyle Norris. At one time, he was practically Devin Matthias' right-hand man. He got replaced later by another guy, so we think. Brian Donahue."

"So the Moriare theory still holds up," Carson observed. "At least, it does if Norris had anything to do with Randy Moriare's murder."

"He may or may not," Johnson admitted. "He hasn't been so thick with Matthias for ten years, as far as we know. Even so, we don't think they severed their connection altogether."

NDNDNDNDND

When they arrived at the Drews' apartment, Carson invited Johnson to come up and have supper with his family. Johnson, being a bachelor and not much of a cook, gratefully accepted. However, it wasn't Kate who greeted them at the door. Instead, it was Carson's sister Eloise.

"I'm certainly getting a lot of time in with Nancy these days," Eloise teased Carson, "what with you and Kate always needing a babysitter. I'm not complaining, though. Once you move back to River Heights, I won't get to see much of Nancy at all."

"Where is Kate, anyway?" Carson asked her. "She didn't have to work today."

"She said she had some errands to run," Eloise replied. "Apparently, she had a bit of a long list, and she thought she could get through it faster if she left Nancy at home. Oh, there was a phone message for you. A Lieutenant Hardy wanted you and Sergeant Johnson to meet him at his house. He said that even if he wasn't there, his wife could explain."

"Well, I guess it's a good thing you talked me into coming up here for dinner, even if I'm not going to get any now," Johnson said as he and Carson headed back down to his car.

NDNDNDNDND

The Hardys lived in a comfortably-sized duplex that even had a little bit of a front lawn. Carson and Johnson were ushered inside by a woman who introduced herself to Carson as Laura Hardy. They were no sooner inside the door than a blond two-year-old boy came toddling toward them as fast as he could, saying, "Uncle Mish! Uncle Mish!"

He was followed a few seconds later by a second boy who was about a year older with dark hair. The two boys each grabbed hold of one of Johnson's legs and hung on giggling as he took a few steps around the room.

"You two are getting too heavy for this," he jokingly complained, pretending to have a harder time walking than he really was.

Carson watched the scene with a grin until Laura went to collect her two sons. "Come here, Joe. Let go, Frank. Stop bothering Uncle Mitch."

"It's no bother," Johnson assured her as the two boys unwillingly allowed themselves to be peeled off him.

"I'm sure not," Laura said distractedly. "They should have better manners than all of that, though."

"We got your husband's message to meet him here," Carson told her, feeling that she wanted to get down to the business at hand.

"Yes," Laura replied. "He should be here any minute. You see, there's someone watching the apartment."

Johnson at once went to the window and peered through the blinds. "Is it that silver Ford?"

"Mm-hmm." Laura nodded. "They've been parked there for hours and there's always two men in it."

"Shouldn't we go talk to them?" Carson asked.

"Not until we know a little better what's going on," Johnson replied. "Can I use your phone, Laura? I'm going to check on that license number."

As he was dialing the number, Carson pulled the blinds a few inches to the side so that he could see out. A silver four-door Ford stood across the street and a little way up. Carson could see two men sitting in the front seat, but it was too far away to see anything of their features. While he watched, another car pulled up in front of the Hardy apartment and Fenton Hardy got out of it. Johnson was just hanging up the phone when Hardy came in the door.

"Are you all right, Laura?" Hardy greeted his wife who came to embrace him amidst ecstatic shrieks of "Daddy! Daddy!" from the two toddlers.

"I'm all right," Laura assured him. "A little scared, I'll admit, though."

"Fenton," Johnson said, "I checked on the license number of that car."

Something in his tone made everyone else feel apprehensive. Even Frank and Joe settled down and seemed to be wondering what the grown-ups were worried about.

"Does it belong to either of the Moriares?" Hardy asked.

Johnson shook his head. "No. I guess they're clever enough to realize that it wouldn't be such a great idea to use their own car to spy on a cop. Besides, if my suspicions are right, they were too busy a couple hours ago."

"Then whose is it?" Carson was growing impatient in waiting for Johnson's revelation.

"It's registered to Jack Garnier," Johnson replied.

Hardy put a hand to his forehead with a groan. "That's just great."

Carson shook his head in confusion. "I must be missing something. Who is Jack Garnier?"

Hardy and Johnson exchanged glances. "He's an enforcer for the local mob family," Johnson explained. "At least, pretty well everyone in law enforcement around here know that he is, although we can't prove anything."

Carson whistled. "What are we going to do about it?"

Before either Hardy or Johnson could answer, the doorbell rang. All four adults froze, but then the two police officers hurried forward. Johnson looked through the window to the right of the door and nodded at Hardy.

"Laura, take the boys into the back bedroom," Hardy said. "Carson, you might want to get out of sight, too."

As Laura hustled her sons out of the room, Carson contented himself to remain behind the half-wall dividing the living room and the dining room. Johnson stood to one side of the door with his gun drawn, while Hardy slowly opened the door.

"Lieutenant Hardy?" The man's voice came from the other side of the door. "I think you already know who I am."

"What do you want, Garnier?" Hardy asked.

Garnier held his hands away from his body. "I'm not armed. I left it in the car."

"With your friend?" Hardy added.

"Right," Garnier replied. "Just some insurance. I want to make a deal with you."

Hardy and Johnson glanced at each other, and then Hardy asked, "What kind of a deal?"

"I'll hand you Devin Matthias's successor," Garnier said.

"And what do you want in return?" Hardy continued.

"Protection," Garnier told him. "I happen to know that there's someone gunning for me. I don't even care so much if you put me in prison, as long as you keep me away from these people."

"What people?" Hardy asked.

Instead of replying, he handed the detective an envelope. Hardy glanced at what was inside, and then opened the door and let Garnier in. As soon as he was inside, Hardy handed the envelope to Johnson. Carson stepped forward now, and Johnson showed him the contents of the envelope – five orange seeds.

"All right," Hardy said. "Say what you have to say."

"Since Matthias bought it, there's been some turmoil among his followers." Garnier seemed nervous as he looked at each of the three men in turn. "Norris was one of the most likely to get Matthias's position, but I hear he got it just this afternoon. Now it's just between Brian Donahue and Earl O'Riley. If you can bag those two, it'll all fall apart."

"Can you prove a connection between Donahue and O'Riley and the mob?" Carson asked.

"Who're you?" Garnier demanded. "Never mind. I've got the evidence, all right. You've just got to keep me away from these people who're knocking everybody off."

"Do you know who they are?" Hardy asked him.

"Yeah. You remember the Moriare murder case a few years back?" When Hardy nodded, Garnier continued, "That was the mob's doing. Matthias ordered it. Moriare's kids are crazy. They're not going to stop until everyone who had anything to do with it is dead."

"And what did you have to do with it?" Hardy inquired.

Garnier's eyes shifted nervously. "The Moriare kids don't think about that. It doesn't matter. All I know is I'm next."

"And how do you know that?" Hardy asked.

"Those seeds." Garnier pointed at the envelope. "Norris got an envelope just like that right before they bumped him off."

Just then, the phone began to ring. Hardy looked at it, but he hesitated before he picked it up. After he had listened to the person for a few minutes, he handed the phone to Carson, saying, "It's for you. It's your wife."

"Kate?" Carson said into the phone. "What is it? How did you know I was here?"

"Eloise told me," Kate replied, her voice sheepish. "Carson, don't kill me, but I've gotten myself into some trouble."

Present day

"Well? Do the Hardys know anything?" Carson asked Ned, who had just hung up from his call.

"Not a thing," Ned replied. "Joe acted like he didn't know anything at all, and Frank said he hasn't talked to Nancy since earlier today and she didn't say anything then."

Carson looked out into the darkness, wondering where in it his daughter was.