Hello I want to thank you all for leaving me wonderful reviews, following, favorites, or just reading along, you are awesome. and to my beta reader thank you for your help with my story you are awesome. Here is my next chapter hope you like it. And there is some rough language towards the end. let me know your thoughts.

A Brother's Revenge Chapter 5

"The gun is missing."

Pete whirled back around at the gun case his eyes zeroed in on the empty spot. He turned around back at the Hardys. He raked a hand through his hair. "I could've sworn I turned it in. " He began panic riddled in his voice., "It's not here. Oh Shit. This isn't good...losing a gun is not good... Chief Collig...h-he helped me get this job after the incident. I need this job."

"That's the least of your worries?" Joe snapped. He was trying hard not to panic, but he lost it. "You were supposed to turn the gun it. Frank gave it to you! How can you be so freaking careless!"

He pointed an accusing finger at Pete. "Frank's being accused of murder and its all your fault!" It was taking everything in him not to leap over the counter and beat the living hell out of Pete.

Pete's eyes widen. "Murder." He gasped taking a step back from the counter.

"Joe stop. That's enough." Fenton reprimanded him. As calmly as he could manage without losing his temper, he pulled Joe back from the counter.

"But Dad..."

"Take a step back, calm down before you say anything else." Fenton cut him off.

Hearing the serious tone in his father's voice, Joe did as instructed. He took a step back to cool his temper, his eyes never leaving Pete. Both of his hands were clutched around his crutches furiously at his side.

Turning his attention back to Pete, Fenton calmly said, "I'm sorry about that Pete. Our emotions are all over the place at the moment."

"No actually, I'm the one who should apologize. Joe's right it's my fault. I've been under a lot of stress lately. " Pete swallowed a lump in his throat. He carefully stepped up to the counter.

"Money has been tight because of my medical bills. I refuse to go on disability, because I don't want charity. On top of that, Linsey informs me that she's pregnant. My son Trevor is starting first grade in the fall. He wants to play soccer, he's excited about it. I want to make sure he is happy and has everything he needs."

He shook his head rapidly. "losing that gun..." Then he stopped and looked at Joe then Fenton. "What did Joe mean about Frank being accused of murder?"

Remaining quiet, Joe stood where he was glaring at Pete.

Fenton really didn't want to bring this up just yet, but thanks to Joe's outburst he had no choice. He lowered his voice and began to explain to him of the murder of Jack Hayden this morning. And about the same gun in question. "The police believed it's the murder weapon found at the crime scene with Frank's fingerprints on it." He finished feeling disgusted by the idea.

"Oh my God, you mean," Pete gulped nervously. "Frank stole..."

"No!" Joe shouted cutting him off from finishing that sentence. He took a step forward but Fenton restrained him.

"Joe, I didn't mean...to accuse Frank." Pete apologized stepping back. "It's just how else could the gun have ended up at the crime scene?"

"Simple. Someone else took it." Joe countered back. His temper still festering inside of him. He added, "Just so we're clear Frank didn't do it."

"Fenton, I'm sorry, I..." Pete stuttered.

Fenton held up his hand to stop him. "Okay let's all take a minute to calm down." Fenton intervened, Even though he felt the need to defend Frank and to yell at Pete for what he was implying. He had to keep things calm and rational.

"Pete, why don't you take us back to June 19th?" He suggested quickly taking charge of the matter. "Frank handed you the gun after he was done with it, correct?"

"That's right he was running late, I told him I'd take care of it."

"Okay think back. You had the gun in your hand, What did you do with it?"

Pete took a few minutes to think. "Um after Frank had left. I brought the gun back here." He placed his hand on top of the counter. Then his eyes widened. he said excitedly, "Now I remember, as I came in here to put the gun away there were two guys just coming down the left hallway of the locker rooms. They were arguing and things started to escalate because one of them raised his fist at the other one.'

Pete looked regrettably at Fenton. "I must have laid the gun on the counter to deal with that situation. I forgot about it." He shook his head. "That was careless and stupid of me to do that. Like I said, I'm under a lot of stress."

"Careless and stupid, you got that right." Joe scoffed rolling his eyes.

"Joe." Fenton said with a sigh. He noticed the security camera on the wall above the counter. "Let's find out exactly what happened to that gun."

Joe and Pete followed the detective's gaze up at the security camera. "Of course." Pete gasped.

"Yes, let's." Finally, Joe thought this could be the break they'd been waiting for. Hopefully we'll find out who stole that gun. And Frank will be cleared.

Pete took them to a small security room, he went over to a monitor and a keyboard on a table in the center of the room. Fenton and Joe right behind him.

On the monitor they could see the screen was split in five different sections of the building. Section 1 showed a room that looked like a bowling alley with lanes and partitions separating each one at the head. The actual range itself. Section 2 was the front lobby, section 4 showed the left hallway that led to the locker room. And in the middle was section 5 the part that showed the counter where you sign in and the gun cases.

They watched as Pete hit a few keys. He pulled up footage on the center monitor on the corner of the screen marked June 19th, the time was 3:00 pm. In Section 5: There they saw Harry sitting lazily at the counter cleaning his left ear with a pencil and wiping it on his shirt.

Eww, Joe thought in disgust. Then the plump man picked up a soda can and took a large gulp of the drink before putting it down, then he wiped his mouth with his shirt sleeve and picked up a magazine. He looked at his watch and got on his feet and tucked the magazine under his arm and headed out of the room.

How that man got to be a cop, Fenton shook his head, he'll never know.

"Okay...mental note have a talk with Harry." Pete said slowly, "Let's move on shall we." Next they saw a dark haired young man in blue jeans and a red long sleeve shirt with the sleeves pulled up to his elbows walk in the room.

"There!" Pete pointed to the screen, "There's Frank."

Fenton and Joe lean closer sure enough it was Frank. they watched him walk up to the counter as Pete stepped in behind it cleaning up Harry's trash. After that he greeted Frank and then Frank began signing the log and Pete handing him the gun from the gun case. Then the two headed for the double doors out to the range.

They saw Frank with Pete next to him shooting off a few rounds. After he was finished Frank and Pete walked back to the counter to turn in the gun.

Joe watched closely as his brother handed the gun to Pete and leaves the room.

A few seconds later, Pete walked over to the counter with the gun. "And there's the two guys I was telling you about." He pointed.

Fenton and Joe saw the two young men coming out of the locker rooms in a heated argument then at one point one of the men whirled around and raised his fist at the other guy. Pete hearing the commotion puts the gun on counter and goes over to stop the fighting. Fenton's eyes went back to the gun on the counter.

They had to do a double take, because of what they saw next. With in seconds a dark haired figure his face was away from the camera he picks up the gun off of the counter and rushes out of the room.

No can't be. Joe said under his breath. He couldn't take his eyes off the screen. "Is there any way to make this any clearer."

"No, I'm sorry." Pete replied regrettably. "This is about as good as it gets."

Damn. Joe cursed under his breath. He glanced over at his father he too couldn't take his eyes off the screen either. The dark haired figure was wearing the same clothing Frank had on.

Fenton suddenly felt sick to his stomach. Dear God please tell me it's not true. "Dad, what do you think?" He heard Joe ask him.

"I don't know." Was all Fenton could manage to say. He straightened up and began thinking of what to do next.

As a father he didn't want to do what he was about to do especially when it involves his son. It hurt him to the core of his heart to even think of Frank as a suspect. However as a detective that is what it looked like. He knew what had to be done. He had no choice. And he knew he was going to get resistance from Joe. Again there was no choice. He took a breath and with a strong and steady voice. "Pete can you make two copies of this?"

"Yes of course."

Joe straightens up looking at Fenton strangely. "Two, why do you need two?"

Here we go, he thought. "One so we can try to get the footage enhanced so we can see the person more clearly." Fenton paused to prepare himself to say the next part. "And two to give to Chief Collig as evidence."

Then he counted to himself one, two, three..."What!" That was the reaction he was expecting from Joe, and Joe didn't disappoint.

"Dad you can't!" Joe shouted. He stabbed a finger at the monitor. "That guy is not Frank!"

Joe didn't understand this. How could his father do this. "You can't give this to the Chief. This makes Frank look even more guilty. We are supposed to be proving his innocence, not get him convicted! What that hell are you thinking!"

"I'd suggest you lower your tone right now." Fenton said biting back his temper. "I don't want to do this, but I have to. It's the right way. Joe, we can't withhold evidence."

"The right way, oh in other words, you mean the legal way." Joe argued. "That is why you're doing this. You're telling me, you're throwing Frank your own son under the bus, for your so-called justice system."

"No that is not what I'm doing. I do believe Frank is innocent." Fenton replied his temper simmering. "I don't believe he committed murder. But until we can get the footage enhanced. This is what we're looking at."

"Okay, Fenton, I got both copies for you." Pete announced after a few minutes handing Fenton two CD cases.

"Thank you Pete." Fenton said looking down at the discs' in his hand. With a heavy heart Fenton looked back up at his son he put a hand firmly on his shoulder. "Go outside and wait for me."

"Dad, I'm sorry I didn't mean to yell and be disrespectful," Joe apologized, acting ashamed of his actions. He pleaded in tears. "Please don't give the Chief the other copy."

Fenton swallowed the lump in his throat, pushing his emotions aside. "Go outside."

"Fine." Joe said heatedly. "But, If this gets Frank convicted, I'll never forgive you." Then he turned around and headed for the door.

FJFJFJFJFJFFJ

Monday that afternoon, Con entered the cell block carrying a fast food bag and a soda. He stopped until he came to Frank's cell. He spotted the older Hardy boy dressed in an orange jumpsuit sitting on the floor with his knees up to his chest and his arms around them. He had the saddest look on his face.

The officer's heart went out for him. Frank shouldn't be here. He's a good guy. He didn't deserve this. God the truth had to come out some how. Frank didn't commit murder.

He took a breath. He opened the cell and stepped inside. Not wanting to startle him, "Frank." He gently called to him.

Frank looked up at him and gave him a half smile.

"How are you doing?" Con noted his eyes were red and swollen as if he'd been crying.

"Peachy."

Con just nodded. He crouched down next to him. "Well hey, I thought you might be hungry. Brought you a cheeseburger and fries. And here's a soda." He sat them on the floor in front of Frank.

Frank just glanced at them. "Thank you, but, I'm not hungry."

"Oh come on, you have to eat something, I know the food here isn't all that great, that's why I went out and got you this. You got to keep up your strength." Con encouraged him. "Besides I don't want Joe thinking we're not taking care of you."

"Oh no, we wouldn't want to do that," Frank murmured. "Can't disappoint Joe."

He reached in to the bag and took out a French fry. He popped it in his mouth chewing it slowly and cast his sad eyes at the floor. "Although I've been doing that a lot lately."

Unclear of what to make of the comment, Con raised a brow. "I don't think that's true. That kid thinks highly of you. You're his hero. He's going to stick by you no matter what."

"That's just it." Frank said taking another fry out of the bag. "I'm not a hero. Joe puts me on such a high pedestal. I mean he once told me that I out rank Spider-Man."

Con just smiled at the comment letting Frank continue, "I try to live up to the expectation of what he wants me to be. But I'm not that person anymore. I'm tired of letting everyone down. Joe, my parents, Callie, P-hil...," His voice trail off. He stopped eating and threw a fry back into the bag. Then announced, "I'm tired, I don't want to do this anymore. I think I'm going to lay down."

"Okay, just make sure you eat something." Con said slowly taking it as his cue he got to his feet.

Frank got to his feet and laid on his bed and closed his eyes shutting the world out. Con stepped out of the cell closed the door. He looked back at Frank he didn't know exactly what was going on with him, but, his gut instinct told him not to leave him.

He took his phone out of his backpack and started texting Fenton. "Frank needs you."

FJFJFJFJFJFJF

"Good evening, I am Cynthia Fletcher of NBN Bayport news. With the latest..." A young, female anchorwoman said from behind the news desk. "A body was found early this morning in a ditch along Shore Road."

"The body was identified as 57 year old Jack Hayden a former teacher of Bayport High school. Sources say the man was on trial for allegedly attempted murder and abuse charges just two weeks ago, but the trial was later declared a mistrial do to complications and lack of evidence."

"It as also been reported that authorities do have the murder suspect in custody 18 year old Frank Hardy son of Detective Fenton Hardy...'click'

The dark haired figure turned off the television grinning from ear to ear. He stood by his bed and began stuffing his red shirt and jeans into a garbage bag. Then went over to the closet open the door and threw the bag inside.

"DAMN!" A man's voice roared from the living room. The dark haired figure jumped at the sound of objects being thrown and glass shattering to pieces. "FUCK YOU FRANK HARDY YOU'RE A DEAD MAN!"

The dark haired figure kept the grin on his face, very pleased with that outburst from his uncle he ran a hand through his hair before closing the door and went over to the bed. He laid down on his pillow with his hands clasped behind his neck lost in his thoughts looking up at the ceiling. Paybacks a bitch.