Chapter 2: Dead Men don't Pay Their Bills

"This is without a doubt the dumbest idea you've ever had!" A harsh whisper came through Frank's in-ear communication device. The nearly twenty-five year old detective smiled cheekily, even though he knew his brother couldn't see him.

"You're just jealous because Dad doesn't want you playing dress-up while Van's on maternity leave." Frank retorted. His younger brother could only yawn involuntarily in response. "See, it's for your own good." The dark haired Hardy brother was dressed in a navy blue coverall and was toting tool bag. Even though he didn't have a search warrant, he knew of a loophole that would allow him to find the evidence he needed to help his client's case.

"Is their signal still scrambled by the way?" he asked as he limped up the reclaimed cobblestone sidewalk that lead to their client's home. Finally free of the use of a cane from the broken femur he endured over a year ago, Frank was still left with a slight limp that that was more pronounced the more tired he got. But he was using his injury to his advantage today, and along with a three-day growth of facial hair, his scruffy appearance would make the perfect cover for the operation he had in mind.

"Got it covered, they put in the call to North Cast about eight o'clock this morning." Joe confirmed from his position in the surveillance van.

"It's quarter after nine now! Perfect! Nora won't leave for her yoga class for a few more minutes, so she'll be able to invite you in to check out the internet reception. And it's Wednesday, Magdalena won't be back from the grocery store for about fifteen minutes, so she can witness you leave." Frank's client, Vic Halstead, said excitedly as he walked with Frank to the service entrance of his former home.

The two arrived at the rear of the stately home and Frank rang the doorbell. An attractive, slender woman with a fashionable haircut and well-manicured nails answered the door.

"Mrs. Halstead? Hi, I'm Terry from North Cast…" Mrs. Halstead's eyes raked over Frank's appearance and despite his efforts to appear less than attractive, Nora must have liked what she saw. She stood there in the doorway with a hand on one hip and her back arched slightly to put emphasis on her best "assets."

"Oh! Thank G-d! I was right in the middle of a purchase on Amazon when the damn thing blinked out on me! I tried restarting the computer, resetting the WiFi, nothing!"

"Well I'll be glad to take a look at it Mrs. Halstead." Frank said politely. Nora waved him in and closed the door just before Vic could enter. This did not deter Vic in the least as he passed on through, a less than amused look on his face.

Nora was dressed like she was prepared for a yoga session. She was sporting a pair of black knee-high yoga pants, and a racer back style top that accentuated her ample, gravity-defying breasts.

"I got her those when she turned 29. Nothing wrong with the set she had." Vic grumbled and they followed her up the grand staircase and into the formal study. Vic let out a sigh. Not much had changed about his homey, comfortable study other than a fine layer of dust covering anything in the room that had belonged to him. Nora must not want Magdalena cleaning or snooping around in there since he'd left.

They had shared the space during their marriage. Vic had even purchased a second desk and computer so that Nora could manage her work-from-home cosmetics business. Nora never claimed to be very computer savvy, so Vic pretty much had access to all of her office equipment whenever a problem came up, with just one caveat, he did not possess the key to her filing cabinet. Even when tax season rolled around and he needed her financials so he could file her taxes for her, Nora would never go into the cabinet while Vic was home. He would find the papers on his desk later in the evening when he got home from work. "That should have been my first red flag." Vic had said bitterly.

While Vic had been grumbling Frank had noticed a few things as they walked through the house that weren't adding up. If Nora was supposed to be leaving her yoga class soon, where was her rolled up yoga mat Vic had described? Or her gym bag that he said she'd always set out by the back door before she left?

Nora pulled out her office chair and allowed Frank to set about tapping on the keyboard to check out the computer's set-up.

"So," Nora began as she leaned over Frank and rested a hand on each shoulder, "are all North Cast technicians as cute as you?" Frank wanted to maintain an air of professionalism, but he also knew he'd get nothing accomplished if he played into her flirtations.

"Oh shit! Is she flirting with you?" Joe snickered into the mic. "But seriously Frank, you've got to get her out from under your ass so you can work!" Frank closed his eyes for a moment to steel himself for what he was about to say next.

"Go on son, play the gay card. Her first ex-husband came out of the closet on her. She'll give you a pretty wide berth once she realizes she can't get anywhere with you. Besides, the only gay friends she's interested in having now are the ones she can go shopping with, and you don't look the part." Vic assured Frank. It always irritated Frank how intuitive these kinds of clients were, as if they were mind readers or something…

Frank felt a slender hand beginning to trail seductively from his shoulder down to his chest. He cleared his throat and went for it.

"Actually yes. I think that's once of North Cast's hiring practices. You should see some of those guys. Nerdy and sexy?" Frank whistled lowly. "Wouldn't mind tapping a few of those assess myself." Inwardly Frank cringed, but his comment did achieve the desired effect. Nora took her hands off Frank as if he was scalding hot.

"Oh, huh, that's good to know." Her voice shook with embarrassment and she began to back out of the room. "If you hear some bumping around, my housekeeper is due back any time with the groceries and my yoga instructor is coming by for my lesson. We'll be down in the workout room in the basement if you need anything. Otherwise just leave your bill on the kitchen counter and Magdalena will let you out."

Mrs. Halstead left the room so Frank could get to work. When he was sure she was at least down on the first floor Frank reached into his tool bag and pulled out a small leather pouch. He fished out a pick and a tension wrench and went to work releasing the lock on Nora's oh-so-private filing cabinet.

"Would you mind keeping a lookout for your wife or Magdalena, Mr. Halstead?" Frank quietly asked the client, but Vic seemed distracted, and if it were possible, the older man's face looked like it was flushing red. "Mr. Halstead!" Frank hissed. Vic shook himself and nodded.

"It's Nora we've really got to worry about. Magdalena has been with me for years. I now feel like she tried to drop hints about Nora so many times, and I was just too blind to notice."

"Yeah, but Magdalena can't see you like I can. If she catches me going through Nora's things she'll raise an alarm regardless." Frank reminded Mr. Halstead. "And please, whatever you do, don't go down to the basement once her "instructor" gets here. You don't need to put yourself through that, and if we find what we're looking for anyway, she'll get her just desserts in the end. Okay?"

Vic's shoulders slumped. He nodded in agreement and floated through the study's wall. Frank rolled his eyes and continued to fiddle with the lock until he heard the satisfying click of the lock releasing and popping forward. Frank quietly pulled the top drawer open and began thumbing through file after file.

"Bingo!" He whispered when he found about three different life insurance policies, all stating that Nora Morgan Ingram Halstead would be the sole beneficiary of a collective one point five million dollars upon the death of one Victor Author Halstead. But the insured's signature was obviously a blatant forgery. Vic had already led Frank to his office in town to view documents with his actual signature on them. The state of New York had very specific guidelines for taking an insurance policy out on spouses, one being that the spouse had to be made aware and consent to the policy, and the other that a notarized signature be present on the document. Oh boy, some poor schmuck was about to find themselves in deep shit for notarizing these forgeries.

Frank took digital photographs of all the documents. He closed the drawer carefully and began to check the second drawer. Nothing noteworthy there, just some files labeled "Marabelle Cosmetics Orders: October, Twenty eleven", "Marabelle Christmas promotion: Twenty twelve"… but what was that grey looking box way in the back?

"Frank, you've got company! Some muscle-head just pulled up to the front entrance and he's letting himself in with a key." Joe alerted the older Hardy. Frank quickly snapped the file drawer's lock shut and stuffed his pick kit back into the tool bag. He faced the computer monitor and opened a few windows to look busy just in case someone stuck their heads in.

Thankfully all seemed quiet, he could detect a few voices coming from the first floor, but then all went silent until he heard another door open. A heavily accented feminine voice was grumbling in the kitchen. Something about she was getting too old for this shit, and that stupid whore was young enough to bring in her own damn groceries, the arthritis in her back and shoulder were killing her, and there was no way in Hell she was cleaning up after those two if they fucked in the gym again, she didn't get paid enough for that!

"Oh! Magdalena? There's a tech from North Cast upstairs working on the internet." Frank heard Nora shout from another part of the house. "And Ramon and I are starting our yoga session, make sure the North Cast guy leaves the bill on the counter before he leaves!"

"Yes Miss Nora!" the housekeeper called back, then muttered a few other unsavory expletives in Spanish that she was sure Nora couldn't hear or understand.

Frank worked the lock back open and proceeded to pull the second drawer out a little further. He reached in his bag for a pair of latex gloves and then carefully extracted the grey box from the drawer. Inside there were small glass bottles of what looked like sea salt, until Frank got a better look the labels. "Sodium cyanide." he hissed.

"Vic?" Frank called quietly, "Vic, are you still with me?" Mr. Halstead's head and shoulder appeared through the office's rich wood paneling. He looked pissed off, but his ire did not seem to be directed at Frank.

"What did you find son?" Vic asked gruffly while the rest of his form entered the room and glided over to where Frank was sitting.

"I found the insurance policies you suspected, but take a look a this." Frank held up a bottle so that the ghost could see it better.

"Salt?"

"Sodium cyanide. Did Nora handle your food a lot near the end?" Vic nodded, though he still hadn't put two and two together yet.

"Yes. The doctor had me on a low sodium diet. So Nora got that salt substitute to flavor my food with. When I had my heart attack they restricted my diet to no sodium, so Nora snuck some of my salt substitute into the hospital for me … Oh. That bitch!" Frank just shook his head and took more pictures.

"Well, we now have probable cause for the judge to issue a search warrant, as well as a motive and means. State's attorney is going to love this."

With enough documented evidence to turn over to Conrad Riley at the State's Attorney's office, he knew the well-connected attorney could expedite a search warrant from the judge. Then Bayport's Chief of Police, Erza Collig, and his boys in blue would be knocking on Mrs. Halstead's front door by this time tomorrow morning. Frank was careful enough to put everything back in it proper place, lock the filing cabinet and began to fill out a bogus service bill. Mid way through filling out the bill he stopped to signal his brother.

"Joe? You awake buddy?" Frank asked. He heard a muffled yawn and the clearing of a throat.

"Yeah, I'm here and I'm awake, barely. Are you almost done in there?" Joe returned drowsily.

"Yep. How about unscrambling that signal for me and let me check the connection, then I'm out of here."

"You've got it brother." Joe tapped on a couple of the keys on the laptop he had inside the van and checked back in with his brother.

"How's it now?"

"Works like a charm." The older Hardy answered quietly as he performed a quick connectivity check. A look into Mrs. Halstead's browser history sent up red flags in Frank's brain. Searches had been made on how to set up overseas accounts, travel websites to Europe, hotels, etc. Nora Halstead was a possible flight risk! It was a good thing Vic's spirit had contacted Frank before too much time passed or the "black widow" and her boy-toy would have been long gone, laughing the whole thing off while soaking up the sun on some exotic beach. Frank backed out of the system and left everything as he found it.

"I'm packing it in and heading to the kitchen to drop off the bill." He whispered to Joe. Frank looked around the room. There was still no sign of his client. Frank sighed heavily, packed up his equipment and headed for the kitchen with the false invoice.

He didn't see anyone in the kitchen at first as he laid the slip of yellow paper on the counter, other than the fact that the industrial sized refrigerator's door was open. Frank assumed Magdalena was still putting the groceries away.

"Dejaré la Sra. Halstead de aquí. Bueno Señora Magdalena?*" But it wasn't Magdalena, or anyone who would look like a middle-aged housekeeper who stepped back from the cover of the big refrigerator door.

Instead a very tall, very sweaty, and very attractive man closed the stainless steel door. There was something eerily familiar about Ramon as he sauntered over to the kitchen counter that made a thrill of fear shiver down Frank's spine.

"Magdalena's in the laundry room, but I'll let Nora know you're done." The dark haired man said smoothly as he came even closer, placing a chilled bottle of water on the counter. Frank smiled, nodded, and as he turned away from Ramon to open the back door and broad hand splayed out on the door at eye level, stopping Frank in his tracks.

"You know, Nora was right. For a computer geek, you're kinda hot. Even if you do play for the other team." Frank grimaced at the yoga instructor's crude words. He'd had to deal with his share of homophobic comments and reactions since he'd come out of the closet back in college, but what the taller man said next shocked him.

Ramon leaned in close enough so that his warm breath tickled Frank's ear. "You know Nora and I were talking. If they're paying you by the hour, why not stay a little longer? We'll make it worth your while, I've always been a little bi-curious, and Nora gives amazing head." Frank stiffened there where he stood. Ramon had spoken into the ear with the communication device and he prayed for all he was worth that Joe had the good sense to stay quiet and stay in the van.

There had been quite a bit of role-reversal for the Hardy brothers in the last year and a half. Ever since Frank had been kidnapped, physically and mentally tortured twice in a year's time, Joe had become very protective of his older brother. Quite a shift in their previous fraternal dynamic. But Frank was determined to be able to stand on his own two feet again, and to return to the protective role he'd played all his life in his and Joe's relationship, especially now that Joe was a new father. And he had to get out of there as soon as possible so he could turn in the information he had on the murderous Mrs. Halstead.

"As fun as that sounds, I've already got another job lined up that I need to get to." Frank tried to push his way past the larger man. Apparently, Ramon was a man used to getting his way. He pushed Frank's right shoulder until the dark haired Hardy was pinned between the door and the sweaty instructor.

"Ah, come on…" He glanced down at the nametag on Frank's coveralls. "Terry. You can't tell me the idea of a few extra dollars and a morning of fun doesn't sound like a good idea to you?"

Frank was frozen. Suddenly, in his mind, he was in all the horrible places with all the horrible people that had made his nights during his recovery a living hell.

"Frank? Bro, do you need me? Give me a sign and I'm in there in second!" Frank heard his brother's voice in ear. That seemed to help snap Frank back to the here and now. Ramon had started to lean in with his mouth poised for a kiss. Frank placed his hands against the taller man's chest and pushed him back with more force than he intended. Ramon stumbled back clear to the other end of the counter, his lower back smacking against the granite countertop and causing the taller man to bounce, holler in pain and slide to the floor.

"I think I made myself clear enough! Not. Interested." Frank said forcefully. He'd put enough distance between them that before Ramon could stagger to his feet Frank had opened the back door and dashed out. He walked as steadily as he could before he reached the van and jumped into the driver's seat.

"Frank? Are you alright?" Frank didn't say a word as he turned on the ignition and put the car in drive. Joe clamored up to the front passenger seat. His brother's face was pale and he could tell he was trembling.

"Talk to me!" Joe said a little more sternly, but with the tone of concern.

"I'm fine."

"Famous last words." The blonde brother muttered. He could see Frank's lips tighten into a thin line. Fine. Frank was shutting down. Well, it was useless to get Frank to open up about what happened in the Halstead's home then and there. Frank would come around eventually, that was just how he operated, especially here in the last year or so.

Ten-thirty the next morning Joe received a call from Ezra Collig that Nora Halstead was under arrest and currently being booked on charges of first degree murder and insurance fraud. When he walked into Frank's office to relay the information, his older brother already had a peaceful look on his face.

"Collig just called. Nora Halstead…"

"I know." Frank sighed. "Vic's moved on."

"Well, that's a relief." Joe said as he sat down in the chair across Frank's desk.

"Yep." Frank gave his brother a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "One down, hundreds more to go."

"You're kidding, right? Hundreds?" But Frank raised his hands helplessly.

"I'm still trying to learn how to block them out Joe. I get together with that hippy-dippy therapist at least once a week. But I guess word has gotten around in the hereafter that there's a medium who's also a detective. It's like someone's knocking on the door almost all the time."

"Speaking of which…" Frank and Joe turned their heads simultaneously to see their father, Fenton, standing in the doorway with a stack of mail in his hands. "I'm glad you boys brought the Halstead woman to justice, but we need to switch our focus back to our living clients too. You two killed four days working on the Halstead case when we've got at least three new clients who have called and need to be interviewed. He slapped the white envelopes in his right hand into his left for emphasis.

"I don't mean to sound cold hearted boys. That Halstead woman needed to be brought to justice, no doubt about it. But dead clients don't pay their bills." With that Fenton Hardy turned away from Frank's office and walked into his own.

*Spanish: I'll leave Mrs. Halstead's bill here. Okay Ms. Magdalena?

Author's Note:

Told you this story would be slow going, but I hope it's worth it. Read and review if you please. And as always, thanks for your continued readership.