J.M.J.
Author's note: Thank you for reading! Special thanks to all of you who have left reviews! The next chapter will be August 31. God bless!
August 27 – Sunday
The service was still about ten minutes from starting at one of the little community churches in Butte when Fenton strode up to one of the ushers. He was in a much calmer mood than he had been the night before after listening to the recording. After his initial shock had passed, he had been about to go straight to the Stanleys' house and demand answers from Roger. Jack had managed to persuade him to wait until he was in a more conducive mood for thinking. Fenton was grateful now that he had. He wanted to confront Roger with a clear head.
The only problem was that the Stanleys hadn't been home when he and Jack had arrived to knock on their door. They stopped at a neighboring house—it was over a mile from the Stanleys' house, but it was the closest one they saw—and the people there told them that the Stanleys always went to the Sunday service at this particular church. Fenton was hoping that they hadn't arrived yet so that he could speak to them outside without having to ask them to come out.
When the usher saw Fenton approaching, he smiled broadly and held his hand out. "Welcome! Welcome! We're always happy to have visitors. Is this your first time here?"
"Actually, I'm here to see someone in particular: Roger Stanley or his parents. I was hoping you could tell me whether they're here yet or not," Fenton explained as the man continued enthusiastically shaking his hand.
"You're visiting the Stanleys, eh?" the usher asked. "Wonderful people. Some of our most regular attendees, too. You know, a lot of people don't understand how important it is to come to church every single Sunday. Everything else in life demands more time than this, and church is the most important thing you can do, but a lot of people suddenly find they can't spare one hour for God out of their entire week. Do you go to church regularly?"
"When I can," Fenton replied distractedly. "Are the Stanleys here?"
"I haven't seen them yet." The usher checked his watch. "The service is about to start. You can talk to them afterwards so you don't miss anything. You'll like our pastor. He doesn't water anything down. No sir."
"I'd much rather wait and talk to them as soon as they come," Fenton insisted. "Could you please point them out?"
"If that's the way you want it. You won't have much time to talk, though. The service is starting in ten minutes. Our pastor is giving a series on 'Hope in the Midst of Hopelessness.' It's too bad you haven't been here the last three weeks. Those were sermons you wouldn't want to miss. I think they record them and put them all up on the church website. After you hear the one today, I'm sure you'll want to check the others out."
Fenton nodded vaguely, watching for anyone who might be the Stanleys. Finally, a car stopped in the parking lot and a family got out. The parents were in their mid-thirties, with three children under the age of ten. The usher pointed them out and identified them as the Stanleys.
"Are you sure?" Fenton asked in confusion when he didn't recognize the man. "Roger Stanley?"
"That's right," the usher said. "He's been coming to this church since he was a baby, so I should know him."
Fenton rushed down the church steps toward them. "Excuse me," he said. "Are you Roger Stanley?"
"Yes," the man said. "Do we know you?"
"No. I'm a private detective. My name is Fenton Hardy." Fenton wasn't really all that surprised as he studied Roger's face. He was about the same age as the man from the restaurant, but otherwise, there were virtually no similarities.
"Am I in some kind of trouble?" Roger asked. "I've never had a detective looking for me before."
"No, you're not in any trouble," Fenton assured. "You might not even be the person I'm looking for. Are there any other Roger Stanleys that live near here?"
"There might be, but I don't know of any," Roger said.
"You own a ranch outside Beaver Spring?" Fenton asked.
"My parents do."
"Do you know Brock Garret?" Fenton asked.
"Say! Are you looking into that?"
"Into what?"
"Brock," Roger clarified. "You know, him being involved in all that crime and those murders…Wait. You said your name's Hardy? Isn't that…"
"Yes," Fenton interrupted him. "And yes, I'm investigating that. I heard that he may have contacted you shortly after he left for Hollywood."
Roger shook his head. "I never heard from him again after that. Once he got his big break, he must have thought talking to us poors from Beaver Spring was beneath him. I feel kind of bad saying it now that he's dead, but it's…"
"Now that he's what?" Fenton cut him off.
"Didn't you hear about that?" Roger asked. "It was all over the news. He got released from jail and not two hours later, wrecked his car and was killed. Everyone's saying that he was probably murdered."
Fenton was silent for a few seconds as he tried to process this information. It didn't take him long to regain his composure. "Thank you for your time. I hope I didn't make you late for church."
He hurried back to the car where Jack was waiting and reported these latest developments to him.
"So now we've got to decide whether we're going to look for the fake Roger Stanley, follow up this Mexico lead, or try to find Garret's killers," Fenton concluded. "At least we're not out of leads anymore."
"I don't think we'd be welcome on the Garret angle," Jack replied.
"Probably not," Fenton agreed. "That still leaves two leads. We're going to need some help."
HBNDHBNDHB
The Drews and Hannah were just sitting down to a late morning brunch after church when Carson's phone rang. He was always getting business calls at every hour of the day, and he had to be discerning which to answer and which could wait until business hours. However, when he saw that it was Fenton Hardy calling, he didn't hesitate to answer.
"I just heard an interesting piece of news about Brock Garret," Fenton said after the preliminary greetings.
"I know," Carson replied. "We heard it yesterday straight from Hikialani. I don't know if you've gotten your information from the news, but they're not as sure that it was really Garret as the media is making it out to be. Hikialani said he would let me know when they learn for sure. I tried to call you to tell you, but I couldn't get through on your phone. I called your house and Laura told me that you were back in Montana again. Did you learn anything there?"
"More than I wanted to know." Fenton's voice was strained. "Carson, I know I've already asked a lot of you and Nancy, but I could really use your help again."
"Just tell me what you need."
Fenton began telling Carson what he had learned, while the lawyer listened without interrupting. Nancy and Hannah watched his face, trying to guess what news Fenton was relaying. They could tell from the way Carson's jaw tightened and didn't relax that it couldn't be particularly good news.
The first thing he said was, "I want a copy of that file. It would be risky to send it digitally. Make another copy onto a USB drive and mail it. Send it one day. We'll work on the rest. And, Fenton, be careful. Nancy's had some thoughts on this case, too. It's starting to get hard to see what we know with certainty and what not." He then explained Nancy's theories and conjectures that she had confided in Carson the day before.
"What's going on, Dad?" Nancy asked once he had hung up.
Carson pushed his plate back, suddenly finding he wasn't very hungry. "Fenton had someone give him some things in a very roundabout and obvious way. There were several things indicating that might be some connection between what happened to the boys and the cartel that Fenton was investigating. Frank's pocketknife was also there."
"How would have someone gotten that?" Hannah asked.
"I assume when he was captured." Carson paused. "That wasn't all. There was also a USB drive with an audio recording on it. The recording was apparently of those two sailors, Coswell and Sherman, reporting the murder to the person who hired them."
Nancy caught her breath and Hannah clapped her hands over her mouth.
"And he listened to that?" Hannah asked in horror.
"Yeah."
"So there isn't any doubt about what happened?" Nancy asked slowly.
"I didn't think you had any doubt," Carson said gently.
Nancy glanced down. "No. Do they know who hired those men, then?"
"Unfortunately not. But we don't know for sure that the recording is what it sounds like it is," Carson said. "I don't trust it, not when it was handed over to Fenton that way."
"Are you saying it's fake?" Nancy asked.
"We don't know for sure," Carson replied, emphasizing the words. "All I know is that this case is looking more and more like nothing is quite the way it seems. It wouldn't hurt to check it out. I don't suppose George would know how to do that."
"I can ask her," Nancy said.
"Thanks. That's not actually what Fenton was asking us for help with, though," Carson went on. "He found these items in some covered corral out in the country. He was directed there by someone claiming to be a friend of Brock's who had seen Reese attempt to escape. He gave his name as Roger Stanley, but when Fenton tried to talk to Roger Stanley again, he found that he was a different person. He wants you and me to try to find this phony Stanley and find out what he was up to."
"What's Mr. Hardy going to do?" Nancy asked.
"He's going back to Mexico." Carson shook his head. "I hope it's not a trap."
HBNDHBNDHB
It was an ongoing internal debate with Tony on how to run the Sunday services. For his own part, he would have liked to make them more Catholic, since that was what he knew and was comfortable with. Trying to make them more non-denominational felt a lot like watering things down, but at the same time, he didn't want to be overbearing and just annoy his friends. Not a Sunday passed that he didn't wish that he had refused this assignment. His compromise with himself was to pray in his own way beforehand by himself and focus the service more on reading from Scripture, if he was permitted the chance.
While he was praying, he had the feeling someone was watching him from behind. He turned and saw Katina standing there, looking at him. For a few seconds, he hesitated, unsure what to do. He didn't want to frighten her again, but he also didn't want to ignore her in case she needed something. But as he looked at her, he could see that she was tensing up. He let out a long breath, decided that it might be best not to pay particular attention to her, and then slowly turned again to his original position and resumed praying.
As he did, he continued having the pricking sensation that Katina was watching him. However, when he finished and looked back again, she had left. Tony stood up and went back to the cabin.
"Hey, guys! It's time!" he called.
Chet was the first to come. "We really need a church bell," he commented. "That would be a more dignified way to call us all to church than just yelling for us. It's about like calling people to dinner by saying, 'Come and get it'."
"If you can find a bell, I'll use it," Tony replied.
"Hmm. I might just have to do that," Chet mused.
The Hardys and Biff arrived a few minutes later, but before they started the service, Tony told the others about seeing Katina.
"At least she's still hanging around," Frank commented. "We didn't lose all the ground we gained with her."
"Or else we're starting to gain it back already," Joe added.
Whatever the case was, Katina didn't put in another appearance during the service. Afterwards, however, while the boys were eating breakfast, she crept up to them. They tried to play it cool, neither startling her nor discouraging her, which was a delicate balancing act, and they weren't at all sure that they were successful. At least Katina didn't run away again.
She sidled up to Tony, who stiffened as he tried not to do anything that might frighten her. Katina must have been able to tell that none of the boys were acting naturally, because she furrowed her eyebrows suspiciously. Nevertheless, she tapped Tony on the arm.
"Uh, hi," Tony said, trying to sound friendly.
"Hi," Katina replied with such seriousness that if she had been a native English speaker, Tony would have assumed she was angry with him.
She pointed to Tony's hand, and he saw now that she had something gripped in her right hand. Tony shook his head slightly, unsure what she wanted. Impatiently, Katina held her left hand out with the palm upward to demonstrate. Still uncertainly, Tony held his hand out the way she showed him. Katina pressed the item she had been holding into his hand and then scurried away into the trees.
Tony looked down at the object in his hand and saw that it was a familiar string of beads. "Hey…" he started to call after Katina, but then he stopped himself.
"What was that about?" Biff asked.
Tony shook his head. "I don't know. I made this with her beads, anyway. At least, I assume they were her beads. It disappeared a couple months ago."
"It's too bad we can't just talk to her," Chet commented. "It would make things a lot easier."
