J.M.J.

Chapter XXV

Thursday, May 13

Time seemed to pass by in a blur for Frank. He was vaguely aware of people moving around him in the hospital waiting room. A lot of them were people he knew. His parents were over in one corner of the room. They would occasionally speak to one another in low voices, but for the most part, they just sat there, holding onto one another. Callie was sitting next to Frank with her hand on her arm, but she had fallen asleep with her head on his shoulder. Frank was tired, too, but he didn't allow himself to sleep. He felt, somehow, that his vigilance would keep the worst from happening and that if he allowed himself to fall asleep, he would wake to a nightmare that he would never escape from.

Aunt Gertrude had gone off somewhere. Frank wasn't sure where. He hadn't even seen her go. Mario and Belle had wandered off, too, but that wasn't so surprising. They didn't know any of the Bayporters well and they probably felt a bit like they were intruding. Phil was pacing up and down impatiently, or else he was trying to distract himself from thinking about anything that had happened. Tony was simply sitting with his face buried in his hands, much as he had been ever since Pearson…well, for several hours now. Sam had his arms crossed and looked as if he was deep in thought. Frank wasn't sure where the Mortons were at. Iola had been taken into one of the rooms to be examined, but surely that couldn't be taking this long.

What was taking so long? They had been told hours ago that Joe was being rushed straight into surgery. In fact, that had been even before Sam had brought Frank and rest here and long before the Mortons had arrived with Laura and Aunt Gertrude. It was probably good news that they hadn't heard anything. If something had gone wrong, they probably would have been told right away, and if everything was going right, there wouldn't be any updates. Still, why did it have to take so long?

Callie let out a gasp in her sleep and snapped awake, clutching Frank's hand. After a moment of looking around, she relaxed a little, but she still trembled.

"You okay?" Frank asked her.

Callie nodded. "Yeah. It's just…I can't stop seeing it."

"I know." Frank tried to give her an encouraging smile, but he could have used some encouragement himself. He had never seen anyone get shot before. He had never even been present when someone had died. And this…it had been so sudden and violent…Frank shuddered himself.

"Frank." Callie nudged him and nodded toward Frank's parents. Without either Frank or Callie noticing, a doctor had approached Fenton and Laura and was talking to them quietly. From the looks on their faces, Frank guessed at once that it was good news, but he got up and hurried over to find out with Callie by his side. The doctor looked questioningly at them, but Fenton nodded that it was all right if they heard.

"As I was saying," the doctor went on, "the surgery went very well. Of course, Joe has been through a huge trauma and we'll need to keep him in intensive care for several days, at least."

"Can we see him?" Laura asked.

"Yes, but only two at a time and only for a total of fifteen minutes. He's not fully awake yet."

Fenton and Laura looked at Frank questioningly.

"You two go ahead," Frank told them. "I'll see him a little later, I guess."

Fenton and Laura went with the doctor, while Frank mused over the bit of news he had received. It sounded hopeful, but he could still feel that knot of worry in the pit of his stomach.

"Well?" Frank jumped at hearing Phil's voice right behind him. "Sorry," Phil went on, realizing he had startled Frank. "What's the news? Is it good or bad?"

"Good, I guess," Frank replied. "He's out of surgery and it went well. They still don't know for sure." He shook himself. "Say, why don't we go get something to eat or some coffee or something?"

"Okay." Phil went over to Tony. "Hey, you want to go get something to eat?"

Tony shook his head. "No, thanks. Maybe later."

"Are you okay?" Phil asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just not hungry right now."

"I don't know that any of us are too hungry, but it doesn't do any good to just sit here and keep stewing over it."

Tony rubbed his eyes. "Ugh. Do you think she would have done it if I hadn't taken the spark plugs out of her car?"

"Is that it?" Phil asked. "You're feeling bad about her? Huh. You must be a better person than I am, because I can't feel sorry for her in the least."

"Besides," Callie added, "it wasn't like you forced her to do it. We had to try something to stop her, and we all thought it was a good idea. We didn't know she was going to do that to get out of being caught."

"Maybe, but if hadn't taken the spark plugs out, the police still would have caught her," Tony insisted. "They were five minutes away. They would have met her on the road."

"And then she might have tried to shoot her way out with them," Frank pointed out. "Then someone else might have gotten killed. She certainly wasn't going to let herself get taken alive."

"Maybe," Tony conceded, "but I still can't help feeling I had a hand in her dying."

"Then we all did," Callie told him.

Phil shook his head. "I don't think so. We didn't know what she was going to do, and we certainly intend for her to do that. We aren't any more responsible for her death than if…" He paused to think of a suitable analogy. "Than if she had been behind us on the highway and we were going the speed limit and she decided to pass us anyway and wound up crashing. It wasn't yours and any of our faults, and anyway, someone as despicable as that isn't worth wallowing in guilt over."

"She was still a human being, Phil," Tony retorted. "She didn't stop being one just because she happened to be a horrible one. If we pretend she wasn't just because of the way she thought and the things she did, are we really any different than she was?"

"Yes, and it's simple. Her victims didn't choose the conditions that made her think they were subhuman. She chose to be the way she was. Her victims weren't hurting anyone; she definitely was. Besides that, there's a world of difference between killing innocent people for ideological reasons and not crying over a death you couldn't have prevented in any case of the person doing the killing."

Tony hesitated. "Yeah, I guess. I just need some time to get past this."

"We all do," Callie agreed. "Let's just let it be for the moment, okay?"

That was something they could all agree to, at least until Durant arrived, insisting that he had to take their statements that day, while the incident was still fresh in their minds.

The rest of the day went by in a sort of haze. It was partly that the hours ticked by so interminably slowly that time didn't seem to matter anymore, but it was mostly that it felt like everything had changed and Frank wasn't sure what to do now.

It helped when, hours later, he was finally allowed to see Joe, although it was only for a few minutes. When he went in, Joe had his eyes closed, and Frank thought he was asleep at first. Then Joe opened one eye.

"About time you showed up," he commented.

"I would have come sooner, but that doctor was pretty insistent that you shouldn't have too many visitors."

"Yeah, except for Durant. He didn't have any problem letting him in here to question me. Don't think I gave him anything too helpful."

Frank chuckled wryly. "Yeah. He seems to be enjoying his new position. Now that Hodgefield is out of the picture, though, I'll bet Osmund gets reinstated as chief."

"Mm-hmm. Say, where's Iola? Are they going to let me see her?"

"Tomorrow, probably," Frank told him. "She needs to rest, too. She's been through a lot."

"She's okay, isn't she?"

"Yeah. She's just tired and overwhelmed." Frank sat in the chair next to Joe's bed. "Say, Joe."

"Huh?"

"I…" Frank struggled to find the right words. He wanted to tell him something of how frightened he'd been of losing his little brother, how terrifying it had been, standing at the edge of a cold and empty world without Joe and not knowing whether it was going to be a reality or not, but somehow everything he thought of sounded ridiculously sappy. "I'm really glad you're going to be okay."

"Yeah. Same here." Joe closed his eyes for a few seconds. "You know, it's a funny thing."

"What is?"

Joe paused. He didn't know how to say what he was thinking either. He couldn't remember much from earlier, when he had been shot. It was hard to believe that it had only been about twelve hours ago. It felt more like an age, even though Joe had been unconscious for most of it. He remembered finding Iola and Pearson coming out of nowhere and talking. He remembered thinking she was insane. His dad had been there, because he remembered him being at his side. Joe had been worried Iola for some reason, but he couldn't recall what it was now. It was all very muddled, and woven into it, like a golden thread that didn't quite match in a tapestry, was something else. Not really a memory; more an impression. Yet he had some faint awareness of having been somewhere or seen something or heard something that wasn't part of normal, day-to-day life. It was like waking up from a dream that you can't quite remember but only have the vaguest impression that you had a dream and perhaps some hint of some brilliant colors or an impression of a still scene that you know your waking eyes had never seen. Maybe it was just a dream. That was certainly what Frank would think, so there wasn't much point in bringing it up to him. "I guess your mind plays tricks on you when you've been shot and had ana…aneste…"

"Anesthesia?" Frank offered.

"Yeah, that stuff." Joe yawned.

"Maybe you'd better get some sleep. The doctor said I was only supposed to be in here a few minutes anyway. I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

"'Kay." Joe closed his eyes once more and tried a little longer to think, but it was hard work and after several minutes, he gave it up and drifted off to sleep.

HBHBHBHBHB

Friday, May 14

Iola hadn't slept much the night before. She couldn't quite believe she was safe. Everything that happened seemed like a dream, and she couldn't even make up her mind whether it was a good dream or a nightmare. Once morning came, she found it easier to believe that it was all real. Her parents and Chet were still there and it was a beautiful day.

She was a bit nervous about visiting Joe. Everyone assured her that he was doing well, but there was a nagging in the back of her mind that couldn't quite let her believe it. To her relief, he was awake when she came in.

"Hey." She closed the door behind her and wheeled herself next to his bed. "How are you doing?"

"Never better," Joe replied.

Iola chuckled slightly. "I guess it was a dumb question."

"No. I'm serious. I'm so glad you're okay."

Iola blushed and reached up for his hand. Her wheelchair was a bit low and the hospital bed was a bit high so that the angle was awkward, but she ignored that for the time being. "Thank you."

"It's nothing. It's not like I was going to sit around and do nothing."

"It's not nothing to me. You saved my life, and you almost died doing it. If you would have, I never could have forgiven myself."

"That's…not exactly the idea," Joe said, unsure how to respond exactly.

Iola almost laughed, but since there were tears in her eyes that she had to brush away with her free hand, it clearly wasn't out of mirth. "I don't know what I would have done, I guess. I'm just glad I don't have to find out. I love you, Joe."

"I love you, too."

HBHBHBHBHB

Friday, June 18

"Hey, Dad? Frank?" Joe looked around the house for any sign of either his father or his brother. He made an odd picture in a dress shirt that was buttoned but not tucked in, blue jeans, no shoes, a tie that had been knotted into something that bore no similarity to how it should have been tied, and his hair uncombed, although he had the comb in one hand.

The first person he met was his mother. "Joe, what are you doing? You know you're not supposed to be moving around too much."

"It's been a month, Mom. I'm fine. Just as long as I don't move the wrong way." As he was saying it, he dropped the comb and unthinkingly bent over to pick it up. Halfway down, he winced. "Like I just did."

Laura scooped the comb up. "Do you need to sit down?"

"No, I'm fine, really." The pain had only been a momentary thing and it was already gone again. "What I really need help with is this stupid tie."

"That's not the only thing you need help with." Laura began trying to undo the knot that Joe had gotten into the tie. "Surely you don't think you're wearing blue jeans to graduation."

"I'll change," Joe promised reluctantly. "I don't see why I need to dress up for graduation. The gown is going to cover all my clothes up anyway."

"Graduating from high school happens to be a big deal." Laura finished tying his tie correctly as she said it.

"Most people manage to do it."

"Well, you very nearly didn't," Aunt Gertrude said as she walked past. "Goodness, Laura, you're not going to let him wear that!"

"You know, I wasn't really planning on going to graduation like this," Joe pointed out. "But a guy can't get dressed all at once. It takes a couple minutes."

"Yes, but usually a guy doesn't come out of his room while he's only half-dressed," Gertrude rejoined. "Besides, you need to be leaving in fifteen minutes, at the latest."

Joe looked at his phone. "Oh, shoot. It didn't think it was that late. How long does it take to iron a graduation gown?"

Gertrude threw her hands up in frustration. "I'll take care of that. You finish getting dressed. At least comb your hair and brush your teeth."

"Yes, ma'am." Joe threw her a mock salute before heading back to his room.

Laura's eyes became a little misty as she watched him go. What Gertrude had said was true: this day had very nearly not happened at all. To be sure, throwing it out so casually, Gertrude was probably meaning that there had been a little bit of a fight to get the school to let Joe graduate after missing so many weeks of school right at the end of the year. His teachers had graciously allowed him to catch up on his own time and take his finals later. Even so, the school had been reluctant to let him walk at graduation without having finished his schoolwork.

However, all of that didn't really matter. The last month had taught Laura that there were a lot of problems that weren't so big after all when all was said and done. She had come so close to losing her baby and all her instincts as a mother were telling her that she shouldn't have let him go, she should have kept him at home. Iola still would have been saved. Frank had pieced the mystery together on his own, and he had the good sense not to go after Pearson alone.

But, Laura reminded herself, she hadn't known what would happen. Nobody had. She didn't even really know what would have happened. After all, Joe had been the one to discover where Pearson was holding Iola. Fenton and Frank might have learned who the serial killer was, but maybe they wouldn't have learned where she was until it was too late. The only one really to blame was Pearson herself.

And that was the problem. If Laura could blame herself or Fenton or Joe, they could just learn their lesson and go forward without ever having to go through this again, but none of them could have prevented it absolutely. There would be other criminals and Fenton and Frank and Joe would track them down and no matter how careful they were, something like this was bound to happen again.

"Ready for inspection," Joe announced, coming down the stairs once again, this time in his good clothes. "What do you think, Mom?"

Laura smiled. "You look very handsome."

"Thank you. I was thinking the same thing, if I do say so myself." Joe smirked teasingly.

"You would. You'd better go see if your Aunt Gertrude has finished with that graduation gown yet."

"Oh, right. After everything that's happened, the principal will lose it if I show up without a gown."

He raced off, but he had no sooner left the room than Fenton entered it.

"Are you ready to go?" Fenton asked Laura. "We're going to be late if we don't leave right about now."

"I'm all ready. Joe's the one holding us up." Laura paused. "Fenton, I suppose Gertrude tried pretty hard to talk you out of being a police officer."

Fenton grinned at the memory. "She certainly did. Why?"

"I was just thinking…I suppose it's too late to try to talk Frank and Joe into some nice, safe jobs, like doctors or bankers."

"With their luck, they'd wind up treating the godfather of a mob or their bank would get robbed a couple of times a year."

Laura rolled her eyes good-humoredly. "Yeah, I guess you're right there. It just would be nice if they at least didn't go looking for trouble."

Fenton patted her hand, taking on a more serious tone. "I know. It's hit me pretty hard. Really hard. I'd be perfectly happy if they had some other interest besides detective work. But as it is, they not only have an interest in it, they have a talent for it. If there was ever anyone who was born to be a detective, it's our sons. We can't take that away from them without breaking them. In the long run, that would be even worse."

"I suppose so." Laura smiled softly. "I am rather proud of them."

"I may be biased, but I think we have a lot of reason to be proud of them." Fenton winked at her.

HBHBHBHBHB

The graduation went perfectly, with all the due ceremony and the usual motivational commencement speeches. Afterwards was a reception, and it was there that things started getting noisy and feeling more like a party. Biff, Chet, and Jerry Gilroy were graduating as well, and along with Joe, they insisted on Phil taking a couple dozen pictures of them in various overdramatic poses with their diplomas, while at the same time he had to juggle all four of their phones and alternate taking pictures with each of them. Callie and Iola were nearby, practically doubled over in laughter, and even Frank couldn't help chuckling. Tony probably would have enjoyed it more if he hadn't been a little on edge. His sister, Lisa, was graduating, too, and it was putting a strain on both of them to pretend that they got along.

"Okay, guys, enough," Phil said finally. "I don't even know whose phone is whose anymore."

"Mine's the one with the Superman case," Biff declared, reaching for it.

"Yeah, I remembered that one," Phil replied dryly.

Biff immediately started looking through the pictures with Chet hanging over his shoulder. Before long, they were both laughing till the tears came over their own antics.

"Say," Jerry said after he had had retrieved his own phone, "since we've got all you old and wise college students hanging around, how about some advice."

"What kind of advice?" Frank asked.

"Like what college to go to, what to study, that kind of thing," Jerry replied with a straight face.

"You haven't applied for college yet?" Phil asked, incredulous. "You're never going to get into any kind of decent college this late. You should have been doing that last winter."

"Oh, you're supposed to apply for college before you graduate?" Joe asked, keeping up the straight face. He had already been accepted into Clairmont College where Frank and Callie were going and he knew perfectly well that Jerry was all set to study engineering at a small but excellent school in New York.

"As if you hadn't already applied, been accepted, and registered for classes," Frank said, elbowing Joe.

As Joe and Jerry chuckled, Phil shook his head. "You guys are hopeless. It would serve you right if you got stuck going to Southport Community College."

"No thank you," Joe said. "I have had enough of Southport for one lifetime, thank you very much."

"I wouldn't recommend it, anyway," Tony interjected. "The faculty can be a little questionable. That's why I'm transferring to Bayport Community College."

"No kidding?" Biff asked. "That's where I'm going." He put his arm around Tony's shoulders. "It'll be just like old times again."

Tony ducked out from under his arm. "Yeah, just like old times."

"What about you, Phil?" Jerry asked. "Are you getting out of that place while the getting's good?"

"Actually, this whole thing has turned out for the best for me," Phil said. "My parents have decided that there's a time to go cheap and a time when spending a little bit of money isn't so bad. They're letting me transfer to Greenberg University."

"I've never heard of it," Callie commented.

"It's a privately owned Jewish college," Phil explained. "It's a little on the expensive side, but after everything at Southport, my parents are okay with that now. It's also in Montana, which I'm kind of excited about."

"It sounds like everyone's going to be scattered to the four winds," Iola said.

"That depends on where Chet's going," Frank replied. "You never have said, Chet."

Chet shrugged. "I haven't made up my mind. I think I'm going to take a gap year."

"At this point, it's just about either got to be that or starting in the spring semester," Phil said.

"Hey, Iola," Joe said, changing the subject abruptly. "How about a picture of both of us?"

"Sure," Iola agreed, but before the picture could be taken, someone came and started talking to her and Joe had to wait.

While everyone else was distracted, Callie tugged on Frank's elbow. "I'm afraid I've got to go. You know we're leaving to visit my Aunt Polly first thing in the morning. Would you walk me out to my car?"

"I'd be happy to," Frank replied.

They walked leisurely walked down to the parking lot. Neither of them wanted to get there too quickly, even though Callie's visit to her aunt would only last the weekend. Nevertheless, it only took a few minutes. They paused next to the car.

"You know, Callie," Frank said. He suddenly felt nervous, even though he had a pretty good guess what the answer to his question would be. "There was something we were planning on talking about once that case was over."

"Yes?" Callie said. She was glad it was dark so that Frank couldn't see the blush that had crept into her cheeks.

Frank took each of her hands in one of his. "Maybe, sometime this week, after you get back from your aunt's, I was wondering if you would like to go out on a date."

"I'd love to."

"Don't you want to know what we're going to do first?"

"It doesn't matter, as long as you're there."

"Great, because I was thinking about that new restaurant they put up, Captain Crab's with the indoor playground? They have a great deal on meals that come with a free toy."

"Um, maybe it does matter a little bit."

They both started laughing and that broke the tension.

"Then how about dinner at the Chinese place?" Frank said. "Wednesday night at seven?"

"Perfect."

"Or there's Reggie's or New Italy or…"

"Sounds like we're going to have to go on quite a few dates to cover all those places," Callie broke in.

"Would you like that?" Frank asked. He wondering if Callie could hear his heart pounding.

"I would."

Callie stepped just a bit closer to him and then, as if to seal their agreement, they kissed.

HBHBHBHBHB

The Hardys were one of the first families to leave the reception, as Fenton and Laura didn't want Joe staying out too late. As they were getting in the car, however, Joe decided he'd rather walk.

"Are you sure?" Laura asked. "It's only a few blocks, but I don't want you to strain yourself."

"The physical therapist said walking's a good thing," Joe said. "Anyway, I need to wind down a little and it's the last chance I'll ever have to walk home from high school."

"I'll go with him," Frank offered. "Make sure nothing happens to him."

The older Hardys agreed, and Frank and Joe started walking toward home. They didn't say anything until they had gotten out of the parking lot.

Then Joe asked with a smirk that couldn't be seen in the dark, "So, where'd you and Callie sneak off to?"

Frank could feel his cheeks turning red. "None of your business."

"Ah, sounds like there are some juicy details."

"Cut it out. You're supposed to be an adult now."

"As if I'll ever be." Joe paused and became more thoughtful. "Well, maybe it's not so impossible. Coming that close to dying does change your perspective on things."

"Yeah, and it's not always a bad thing," Frank commented.

"Well." Joe feigned indignation. "So you think I needed changing?"

"I wasn't talking about you. I was talking about me. You know, you kind of aged us all."

Joe nodded. "It's hard to believe it was only a month ago. Everything's turned out for the best, though. We didn't catch Rudger or Angelo, but Allison and David Ferris confessed to their part in everything and it looks like Hodgefield will get convicted. I think Mario and Belle are a little relieved that Allison was lying about being pregnant. That would have been awkward all the way around with her going to jail and everything now and who knows what the courts would have decided about a foster home for the kid."

"It's probably just as well. I've got to admit, though, this case has kind of…I don't know. Like you said, it changes your perspective on things."

"Uh-huh. How about we make a deal?" Joe suggested. "No more serial killers for a while. Let's just focus on nice, non-insane killer-type villains like armed bank robbers."

"Maybe the occasional industrial spy," Frank added.

"And don't forget buried treasures. It's been awhile since we've looked for one of those."

"Hmm. I wonder if there's any left around Bayport."

"Let's make sure there aren't by the end of summer."

"Deal."

Frank and Joe shook hands and laughed.

Author's note: Happy Thanksgiving! It was my goal to finish this book by December 1, and now I've even got it before Thanksgiving. Yay! Except, I'm going to miss working on this one. If you remember, I mentioned at the beginning that it had a rough start in life, but after reworking it a little, it turned into probably my favorite book I've written. All of you who have read it have certainly played a part in that, so thank you. Thank you also to everyone who reviewed, whether one chapter or all of them or somewhere in between: max2013, Candylou, angelicalkiss, Bkworm4life4, BMSH, MargaretA66, sm2003495, drogorath, ErinJordan, merryw, and Exactly. Your feedback, insights, guesses, and encouragement have all been a major factor of making the writing of this book so fun.

As for what's next, there is going to be a part 4 of this series (and a part 5, 6, 7, and 8 as I'm currently planning). Part 4 will be called, at this point, Decades of Deception. I may change my mind on the title. I've had a hard time picking one, so a change of mind is always possible. However, that's not the next book I'm going to write. I'm going to kind of take a vacation during December. I intend to check in with a couple of one-shots or otherwise short stories during that time, but for the most part, I'm going to take it easy and enjoy the Christmas season while I get caught up on some of my reading (yes, that includes finally catching up on your story, angelicalkiss!). In January, the plan is to write a shortish Nancy Drew story (the Hardy Boys will make an appearance but Nancy will be the main focal point). I know I said I was planning a Nancy Drew series, but things are a little up in the air with work and stuff and so I don't think right now is the best time to commit to another series. So that one will just have to wait, which will probably make it better in the long run. Then, after the Nancy Drew story, I'll get started posting Decades of Deception, although I'll probably do a little writing on it before that.

Once again, thank you so much for your support! I hope you've enjoyed the story!

God bless!

Elizabeth Joan