J.M.J.

Author's note: Thank you for reading! I'd especially like to thank everyone who has left reviews! The next chapter will be up tomorrow. God bless!

June 29 – Thursday

Frank and Joe were up as soon as it was light again the next morning. They had realized that chances to read through Eli's journal were going to be much less often than they liked, and so they were determined to read us much as they could before anyone else got up and they would have to get to work.

"It sounds like Eli came here of his own volition," Joe commented after a little while. "He wanted to get away from the rest of the world."

"This place is peaceful," Frank admitted.

"I'll take the hustle and bustle of civilization any day," Joe grumbled.

Frank chuckled, but then he turned his attention back to the journal. "He also says he scuttled his boat. So much for that idea. It's kind of sad. If we're right about how he died, he probably would have survived if he could have taken his boat back to Hawaii and gotten help."

"Yeah, and if the same happens to any of us, we won't be able to use his boat to get help ourselves. Not that we'd have to wait for an emergency to use it." Joe turned the page. "No mention of any girl yet. I guess we don't know for sure that there's any girl to mention."

"Right, but if there is, it sounds like she came separately from Eli. If we could find out how she got here, it could help us."

They continued reading, but there was nothing of importance in the next several pages. It was only an account of Eli's early days on the island, which sounded as if they were happy and content ones.

Joe was glad to close the journal and start getting breakfast. The more he thought about Eli and their predicament, the more likely it seemed that they would all die on this island. What did it matter if the island had any secrets? If they didn't get home, the answers to the riddles wouldn't help them.

HBNDHBNDHB

There was something completely incongruous about sitting at a picnic table on the beach under the bright Hawaiian sun with the ocean stretching out in front of her and people on all sides swimming, surfing, and sunbathing, while talking about investigating the kidnapping of some of her best friends. At least here, in these surroundings, it was impossible to believe all the dark things that had been haunting Nancy's imagination the last few days. They would find the boys. Everything would work out. She was sure of it. As she watched the five men who were sitting with her, she thought Don was the only one who looked like he shared her confidence. Fenton, Sam, Jack, and Mark Larson all had grim looks, like they were expecting the worst.

"Lieutenant Hikialani was able to tell me what they found in the car," Fenton began the discussion. "It was empty and it apparently was not running at the time it went over the cliff. However, the license plates and registration all matched and confirmed that it was the car that the boys rented."

"Between that and the story from that guy who saw the tow-truck, it defiinitely sounds like the boys were kidnapped and then the car was dumped over the cliffs," Mark said.

"That's what it sounds like," Fenton agreed. "Unfortunately, if there were any clues in the car, Hikialani wasn't able to tell me about them. I'd be surprised if there were any, though."

"What about those arrest reports that Hikialani gave you?" Jack asked. "Did you learn any more about them?"

"Sam and I stayed up most of the night reading through them," Fenton said. "They've all at least been suspected of being hired killers, but they're all out of jail at the moment, one way or another. Sam and I will follow up on them, since it seems like the best lead we have. I think you could help us, Mark."

Mark nodded.

"What are the rest of us going to do?" Nancy asked.

"Mark and I were working on that yesterday," Sam said. He explained the idea to have Nancy and Don tail Brock Garret. "It will be risky," he finished, "but we can minimize the risk if you're both willing to use disguises. We'll also have Jack follow the two of you but keep out of sight. He'll just be close enough to be on hand if anything goes wrong. Hopefully, the tail won't have to last long. All we need is some hint as to who might be financing Brock's career."

"Hold on," Don spoke up, his face redder than it had been a few minutes earlier. "You mean, you want Nancy and me to trail him together?"

"Yes, if you're willing," Sam confirmed.

Don stole a glance at Nancy, who wondered if she was blushing as much as he was. She had done a lot of things to solve cases, but ordinarily she would have drawn a line at this. It was too cruel—to Don, to Ned, and possibly to herself. But this wasn't just any case. Frank, Joe, and the rest were her friends, and they needed to be found as soon as possible.

"I'm willing," she said.

"Hold on," Don objected. "What exactly are we going to be doing? I mean, do we have to pretend like we're together, together?"

"No," Sam assured him. "You'll need to adopt different personas than your real ones, but we don't care if those personas are brother and sister, cousins, friends, whatever."

Don scratched his head, clearly trying to buy himself time. Nancy felt sorry for him. They had only broken up because Don was moving away. A part of Nancy had wanted to try long-distance dating, but after a little time, she was glad they hadn't. But Don must have taken it harder than Nancy did. He would respond if she texted him, but he never texted her on his own. Nancy had moved on, but Don apparently was still single. If he still felt the same way toward Nancy that he always had, this plan would be hard for him whether they were pretending to be a couple or not.

"I can do it by myself," Nancy offered. "Honestly, it might make more sense for me not to have a guy along if I'm going be pretending to be fangirling over a male celebrity."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Fenton replied. "In a case like this, as much back-up as possible is important."

"I'll go along," Don said quickly. "When do we start?"

"Brock isn't set to arrive in Hawaii until tomorrow, so there's not much you can do before then," Mark said. "That is, besides getting your disguises ready."

"We'll work on that the rest of the afternoon then," Nancy replied.

HBNDHBNDHB

Later that evening, Nancy was lying on her bed in her hotel room, talking to her best friends, Bess Marvin and George Fayne, on the phone. She had gathered up everything she needed for her disguise, including washable hair dye, since she didn't want to actually dye it. She had also gotten enough for Don. They would both be blonde and would allow the implication to be that they were brother and sister. That would be the easiest for both of them, not that it would be easy at all.

"But you don't even have any proof that the people who killed this Mark Larson guy's brother has anything to do with what happened to the Hardys and their friends," Bess was pointing out. "And you don't really know that Brock Garret even has anything to do with that case. It seems like kind of a stretch to be taking the time to investigate him."

"You don't think Mr. Hardy is trying to keep you off the main case to make sure nothing happens to you, do you?" George asked.

"I don't think he'd play a trick like that on me," Nancy said. "He knows I can take care of myself."

"Just like Frank and Joe," George muttered.

Nancy sighed. "I hope we can find them soon."

"Partly because of this undercover assignment?" Bess asked.

"You're picking up that I'm not exactly thrilled about it?" Nancy countered wryly.

"Hanging out with your ex while fangirling over some actor," George said. "It really sounds like the kind of thing you like to do."

"I should have gone with you," Bess said. "I might not be much good at snooping, but fangirling over Brock Garret is something I could handle."

George scoffed. "Have you ever even watched any of his movies?"

"Well, no," Bess admitted, "but I have seen the memes. You know, the one with the penguin?"

"Please don't remind me," George replied with a groan. "Why didn't Ned go with you? I mean, it might be just as well that he didn't, all things considered, but…"

"To tell the truth, I've been wishing I had taken him up on his offer to come," Nancy said. "But he's got a summer job and he couldn't just ask for indefinite time off from it, so he would have probably lost it, and he needs to save up if he's going to be studying abroad next semester."

"George, how many other guys do you think would let their girlfriend go to Hawaii with her ex to search for her other ex?" Bess asked.

"Frank isn't my ex," Nancy protested. "We went on one date. When we were fifteen, and we've been friends ever since. Anyway, you can tease me about it after we find Frank and the rest."

"Okay, I'm sorry," Bess replied, sounding contrite. "I just mean that Ned is very trusting."

Nancy could easily imagine that what Bess meant to say was that Ned was too trusting, but she brushed it off. "Which is a good thing," she said, "considering that we both can trust each other."

HBNDHBNDHB

The boys had unanimously agreed to take it easy that afternoon. Frank and Joe took the chance to continue reading Eli's journals and Tony had wanted to use the time to catch up on his own journal. For the other three castaways, however, "taking it easy" quickly devolved into boredom. Phil went back to working on the problem of how to hang the door, now that he and Tony had repaired it with driftwood they had found. Chet and Biff weren't having as much luck finding something to occupy their time. They fell to looking through Eli's chests again to see if they had missed anything the first time.

Biff picked up one of the fiction books that were still in their chest. "I wonder if Eli's taste in books was any good."

Chet grimaced. "It feels a little creepy, going through a dead guy's things and using them."

"I guess," Biff conceded, "but he probably wouldn't mind. And if he would mind, under the circumstances, then he wouldn't be the kind of guy that I'd care what he thinks."

"I still really wish the first thing that we did on the island wasn't to find a dead body," Chet said.

"Well, the first thing we did was happen to find a fresh stream before we thirsted to death," Biff pointed out. "Then we found a cabin we could live in with a bunch of supplies that we'll need to survive. It was only after that we found the body. I'd say if there were any omens going on, it sounds like good omens. But I don't believe in omens, anyhow."

"I don't know." Chet frowned. "How do you know they aren't real? I mean, the whole 'scientifically it's impossible' thing doesn't really hold up, because science is just studying the concrete universe, and omens and stuff like that are supernatural, so science doesn't have anything to do with it."

"Huh?"

Chet shrugged. "I've read a lot about this kind of stuff."

Biff nodded slowly. "Uh-huh. That makes sense. Anyway, I don't know anything about how to prove anything scientifically, but I do know that if you hear an owl hooting outside your window, you're supposedly going to die, and I've heard an owl before and I haven't died."

"Well, how long ago was it?"

"When I was, like, five."

Chet frowned. "Well, just because not everything that's supposed to be an omen really is one, doesn't mean none of them are."

Biff shook his head skeptically and went back to searching through the trunk. At the bottom, he found a mostly-intact roll of string. "I wonder what Eli used this for."

"I don't know. But what's the real difference between religion and what people call superstition?"

"Dude, you're going to have to ask Plato or somebody about that. I've got no idea." Biff tossed the roll of string from one hand to the other. "Did Tony say that if we happened to find some string, he'd take it?"

"I think so. But, see, so-called 'superstition' is just more primitive religion, without all the doctrines and stuff," Chet went on, following Biff out the door as the latter went to find Tony. "And it really does come true sometimes. If it was all a bunch of nonsense, then people would have figured that out a long time ago."

"Maybe they did," Biff replied.

"But how can you argue in favor of religion but against superstition?" Chet persisted.

Biff shook his head. "Why do you want to believe in superstitions so much?"

Chet furrowed his brow. "I don't know. I guess…I don't, really, but what if it is true?"

By this time, they had reached where Tony was sitting on his rock, diligently writing in his journal. He looked up when he heard them coming, and Biff held up the roll of string.

"We found this for you," he said.

"Hey, great!" Tony replied with more enthusiasm than the others had expected. "Thanks!"

Biff handed it to him and then asked, "Do you think that since we found a dead body here almost first thing, that means we're going to have bad luck or something?"

Tony raised his eyebrow quizzically. "Uh, no."

"But how can you be sure?" Chet insisted.

"Because that's not the way things work," Tony replied. He paused. "Wait. You actually think it might?"

"I don't know," Chet said. "Biff thinks I'm being superstitious, but what if all those things that get discounted as superstition are actually true?"

"Oh, well…" Tony paused uncomfortably.

"I mean, what's the difference between believing in that and believing in religious stuff?" Chet asked.

"It…depends on what religion you're talking about." Tony looked down at his notebook. "They're not all the same, at all, so asking general questions about religion doesn't get you very far. Some religions are superstitious. But being superstitious isn't the same as believing in supernatural things. It's thinking that if you do such-and-such or say such-and-such, you'll make something happen. Basically, you're controlling God."

"How's that any different than praying?" Chet persisted.

Tony shifted his position slightly and pretended to be very interested in studying the edge of his notebook. "You can be superstitious about praying, actually, when you think that if you say the words in just the right way or just the right time, what you're asking for will definitely happen. But when Christians who understand what they're doing pray, they understand that what they're asking for might not be for the best, so it might not happen. I wouldn't put any stock into superstitions, guys. It's dangerous."

"How?" Biff asked. "I'm not saying I believe any of it—I don't—but how could it be dangerous?"

"Because trying to control things that are out of your control usually ends up with those things controlling you," Tony replied.