J.M.J.

Author's note: Thank you for reading! Thank you especially for reviewing! The next chapter will be up tomorrow. God bless!

July 13 – Thursday

Sunrises came early on Barmet Island. At least, the nights seemed short. There was no real way to know exactly when the sun rose when they had no clocks. In any case, Chet was still sleepy as he kindled the fire to make breakfast, hiding a yawn behind his hand. There had been little sleep that night, and Chet was beginning to feel that things would never improve.

He was still yawning and attempting to wake up when Tony ambled out of the cabin, looking just as tired and miserable as Chet felt. "Morning," Tony said as he plopped next to the fire.

"Yeah, unfortunately." Chet yawned again.

Tony smiled humorlessly. "You know what today is?"

"What?"

"Three weeks and one day since we landed here."

"Is that all?" Chet grumbled. "It feels like it should be three months instead of three weeks."

"I know what you mean." Tony sighed, but it turned into a yawn. "If Frank's fever keeps up much longer, we're going to have to figure out a better schedule for keeping watch. We're all getting too worn out."

"Right." Chet stared moodily at the fire. "I don't know if we can keep this up much longer no matter what."

HBNDHBNDHB

The Drews' flight landed a little after noon. Bayport had a small airport with only one luggage carousel, where they met Fenton. Nancy thought he looked a bit more collected than he had the last time she had seen him, but he seemed grayer, both in hair and face. He smiled a little wryly as he greeted her and her father, shaking both their hands.

"Hopefully, this is all a false alarm," he said. "I don't know what the FBI have on Mark Larson, but maybe they don't intend to bother the rest of us."

"It won't hurt anything to be prepared," Carson pointed out.

"In any case, I think we'll know a little more this evening," Fenton explained. "Mark's wife and daughters will be arriving then. I have a feeling that April Larson might have some more information about this whole thing. I can't think of any other reason why Mark would be so insistent that they come here."

He gave the Drews a ride back to his house. Nancy couldn't help thinking how much more somber this was than the last time she had been in Bayport, with Frank and Joe bantering with her the entire drive back to their house. It was hard to believe that was only a little more than a month ago.

When they arrived, Nancy and Carson gave their condolences to Laura and Gertrude, since they hadn't been able to do so in person yet. Nancy also gave Laura two loaves of home-baked bread that Hannah had sent, along with Hannah's regrets that she couldn't send any more substantial food on the plane.

"There wasn't any need to send anything at all," Laura said, "but I am grateful. I'll call Hannah and thank her."

"I haven't asked Sam or Jack to come until later, when Mrs. Larson arrives," Fenton explained. "It seems like a better use of time to wait for everyone to be here before we start trying to figure this out, especially since none of us here have any new information."

Carson nodded. "I'd agree with that. Of course, there are some basic legalities we could go over, but that can wait as well. It might be just as well for Mrs. Larson to hear about that, too, since her husband is the only one who is definitely in trouble so far."

"That will give you and Nancy a chance to relax a bit," Gertrude said. "We have the guest room and the room over the garage. They're both ready, although I wasn't sure which of you would want which room."

"I'll take the one over the garage," Nancy volunteered. "I'm more used to it."

The Hardys' garage was actually an old barn that had stood there since before this area was part of town. It had an upper story which the Hardys had converted into two rooms. One was a small crime lab, which also doubled as storage for all the paraphernalia that the Hardys had collected in the course of their various investigations. The other was the guest room in which Nancy usually stayed whenever she had come to visit the Hardys.

Nancy knew the way, so there was no need for Gertrude to show her, but the woman insisted that it was the polite thing to do. Nancy noted that Gertrude kept her eyes downward as they went through the crime lab. Nancy found it a bit hard to look at, as well. After all, Frank and Joe had been the last ones to handle almost everything in it.

"I hope you'll be comfortable in here," Gertrude said as she opened the door to the guest room. "I'm afraid it's not our best room."

"It's always been perfect before," Nancy assured her.

"Yes, well…" Gertrude paused and sniffed. "I would like to apologize to you, Nancy."

Nancy had been about to unzip her carry-on bag, but instead she looked up at Gertrude in surprise. "For what?"

"I never exactly…approved of your friendship with Frank and Joe," Gertrude replied. "It always seemed to me that you were playing some kind of game with Frank. I'm starting to see now that that couldn't have been the case."

Nancy's cheeks had reddened slightly. This was one of those apologies that the offense wasn't revealed until it was apologized for, which made for a confusing mix of emotions. "It's all right," she said as graciously as she could. "I know that there are rumors. It doesn't matter now."

"Well, I am sorry," Gertrude said. "I'll let you alone now."

"After I unpack, I think I'll go for a walk, so I might not be here if anyone's looking for me," Nancy said. "I'm tired from sitting in the plane."

She didn't unpack completely before she set out walking. It felt a little strange, walking around Bayport by herself. As many times as she had been here, she had never done that before. Frank or Joe or both of them had always been with her the other times. It was much lonelier than she expected to be here without them. And she was still confused and taken aback by Aunt Gertrude's apology and the revelation that there was yet another person who hadn't been willing to accept that she and Frank were friends, nothing more or less.

That thought didn't make for very good consolation when she saw a car slow down and pull over next to her on the street in her peripheral vision. Anyone else would have thought nothing of it, but Nancy was in a suspicious frame of mind. She glanced at it and met the eyes of the driver: Callie Shaw.

Callie switched off her car's ignition and then got out, hurrying around the hood to get onto the sidewalk. "Nancy? I didn't expect to run into you here."

"Hi, Callie," Nancy said, her cheeks reddening again as it flashed through her mind what Callie might be thinking. "I'm just in town…visiting. Callie, I'm so sorry."

"I know. Thank you." Callie reached out to embrace Nancy, her eyes watering as she did so. Then the girls stepped apart, and Callie wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry for you, too." Noting the momentary confusion on Nancy's face, Callie quickly added, "I know they were your friends, too."

"Thanks," Nancy said, making a mental note that Callie was definitely the classiest person she had encountered recently.

"You're just here visiting?" Callie asked. "I thought, maybe, you had a lead or something."

Nancy shook her head. "I'm afraid not. At least, not yet. We're not giving up."

"Is there any way I can help?" Callie asked. "I really don't want the people who did this to get away with it. It just wouldn't be right, not for Frank and Joe, of all people."

"I know," Nancy agreed. "If I learn anything, I'll let you know. That is, if I can talk about it. Some parts of this are turning into a legal mess. That's the main reason why Dad and I are here."

Callie nodded slowly. "Are you going to be in town long?"

"I don't know, actually. It depends on a few factors that are out of my control."

"If you are, and if you want to, I'd like to spend some time with you, while you're here," Callie said. "I feel a little bad that we've never gotten to know each other at all."

"We should," Nancy agreed.

HBNDHBNDHB

April Larson, her daughters, and her niece arrived early that evening. Fenton had gone to meet them at the airport, although he was still feeling a little suspicious and uncertain about the whole thing. It wasn't hard to spot the woman and girls, since he had seen their picture in Mark's office. April must have also seen pictures of Fenton, because as soon as she saw him, she began walking toward him.

"Mr. Hardy?" she asked when she was near enough.

Fenton nodded, and then told her that calling him by his first name would be fine.

April smiled slightly in acknowledgement and then introduced herself. "These are my daughters, Krissy and Gina, and this is my niece, Kelli."

Krissy and Gina were blonde like both their parents, with the former being about twelve and the latter about seven. Kelli, on the other hand, was about the same age as Krissy and clearly favored her Pacific Islander heritage from her mother's side. The girls seemed too shy to say much to Fenton, beyond a timid greeting.

"We're very grateful for you for helping us," April went on. "I hope we're not putting you out too terribly."

"Not at all," Fenton assured her. "It wasn't any trouble finding that house for you to rent. I can take you straight there, if you want."

"I would appreciate it very much," April replied.

They gathered their luggage and then followed Fenton to his car. Once they were inside, Gina leaned forward from the back seat where she was sitting with the other girls.

"Can we talk now, Mom?" she asked.

Fenton cast April a questioning glance, to which she responded with a thin smile.

"I didn't actually tell the girls they couldn't talk," April explained. "I just told them to be careful what they say. I think we'd better wait until we get to the house to explain everything, though."

All three girls were suddenly much more talkative now that there was no need to watch themselves. They plied Fenton with dozens of questions about what it was like to be a detective. As Fenton answered their questions, he couldn't help feeling a bit of remorse. If he hadn't encouraged his sons in their detective work, would they be here now? It might not have made any difference. Anyone might have accidentally witnessed a murder and been made a target because of it.

"Detective work can be pretty dangerous, you know," he told the girls.

"Sure," Kelli agreed, "but think how much more dangerous the world would be for everybody if there were no detectives or police officers."

They reached the rental house a few minutes later and went inside. Once there, April suggested that the girls choose which bedrooms they wanted.

"Mark and I don't want them to hear all of this," April explained once the girls were out of the room. "They might accidentally give something away, or someone might try to get it out of them, which would be even worse. I also don't think we should have any more contact after this unless it's absolutely necessary."

"All right. What exactly is going on?"

"My husband managed to learn that the man whom your sons and the other boys saw apparently get murdered likely was named Reese. Mark has some contacts in the government, and he was able to learn that this man was staying at that motel and rented the car under an assumed name."

"That's not easy to do for someone who doesn't have the right skill set or connections," Fenton noted. "Was he a criminal of some kind?"

"Yes, he was involved in organized crime, but that's not all. He was arrested and made a plea deal that he would testify against several high-profile members of his organization. As part of his plea deal, he was put in the Witness Protection Program."

"Ah. I'm beginning to understand now," Fenton said. "No wonder the FBI didn't want any unauthorized persons involved."

"Right," April agreed. "That's all my husband was able to learn. I suspect the arrest was to keep him quiet."

"No doubt, although it would be nice if our own government didn't resort to tricks like that," Fenton said. "In that case, they probably will leave the rest of us alone."

"Probably, unless they realize that I passed the information along to you."

"What organization was Reese involved in?" Fenton asked.

"I don't know the name, although they primarily operate on the West Coast. They have been known to come in as far inland as Montana to dispose of people who could make trouble for them. Mark said you'd know what to make of that."

A flash of understanding lit Fenton's eyes as he nodded. "I certainly do."