J.M.J.

Author's note: Thank you so much for continuing to read! Thank you especially to MargaretA66, ErinJordan, max2013, Candylou, and angelicalkiss for your reviews on the previous chapter! This is the last chapter, so be sure to check out the author's note at the end for some announcements. Enjoy!

Chapter XXII

"So, what we saw and heard in that monastery—you knew it was there?" Biff's voice was incredulous as he asked the question that had been on his mind for the last several days since the incident had happened. Although the Hardys would be staying in Ziyou a little longer so that Fenton would have some more time to recover, Biff was headed back for Bayport the next day to be in the States in time for the start of the college year. He and Joe had taken the opportunity to go back to the mission and say good-bye to Fr. Janusz and Fr. Aleksander, as well as get some answers about the whole incident.

Fr. Janusz was sitting across the kitchen table from Biff and Joe, toying with a mug of tea. "We didn't know what was there. There were enough reports that it seemed likely there was really some kind of…activity there, and honestly, we shouldn't have let the two of you come along."

"You wouldn't have been able to stop us," Joe told him. "You said something about Fr. Aleksander being an exorcist. Like, in The Exorcist?"

Fr. Aleksander wasn't there. He was apparently traveling to one of the nearby villages with the third priest at the mission.

At Joe's question, Fr. Janusz chuckled slightly. "Yes, in a way. I've never seen The Exorcist, but I understand movies like that are usually not very accurate. Still, if we're talking about the idea, then yes, it's something like that."

Joe shook his head. He still was having a hard time reconciling what had happened with all his past experiences where everyone who had believed in a paranormal explanation for some occurrence had been proven wrong. "You people really take this stuff seriously?"

"After what you saw, don't you think it should be taken seriously?" Fr. Janusz countered.

"I think it should be left well enough alone," Joe replied.

"For you two, that's absolutely true," Fr. Janusz agreed. "Demons can only have as much power over you as you permit them, but they're also very clever and crafty. They can trick people into a lot more than you might expect. Giving them too much attention is a good way to give them an opportunity to do exactly that."

Biff shivered. "I can't believe I'm sitting here, having a completely serious conversation about demons. Why was that place haunted, anyway?"

"I don't know for sure, but it happens sometimes in places where very evil and especially violent things have been done," Fr. Janusz explained. "Such things open a door, as it's usually said. The mass execution of those monks certainly would explain it. But the combined power of all the demons is nothing compared to God's power, so there really isn't anything to be afraid of. The main thing is to be prudent and—you can roll your eyes at this if you want but it doesn't change the fact that it's the most important thing of all—pray. No matter what you're trying to do, you should pray about it."

"Oh, we're both Christians and we go to church most Sundays and all that," Joe assured him.

"Mm. Well, that's good. But I really can't overstate that it's important to pray the other six days of the week, too."

"After what we went through, I think you're probably right," Biff agreed.

HBHBHBHBHB

The Hardys spent another week in Ziyou after Biff left. It wasn't the most comfortable of times, especially for Frank, who realized that he still had to deal with the unresolved problem of what Jones had said to him just before she had been kidnapped. He put it off as long as he could, but then the night before their plane left, he asked Jones if she would like to take a walk.

There was awkward silence for several minutes at first. Then Jones said, "I sure hope this doesn't turn out like the last walk we took after dark."

Frank chuckled slightly, but it was more to humor Jones than because he felt remotely like laughing. "No kidding. Actually, I wanted to talk about that. About that walk, that is."

Jones licked her lips and looked at the ground. "Yeah, I figured we'd have this conversation before you left. Look, I'm really sorry about everything, Frank. It was selfish of me to ask you to come here. I wasn't thinking about Jim or his uncle or anything but myself, really. I just wanted to see you again."

"I thought when we broke up, we were on the same page," Frank said. "We both still wanted to be friends, but we didn't want to be more than that."

"Uh-huh." Jones made a face like she was trying to keep herself from tearing up. "That was true, for my part, but not because I was over you. It looked to me like you were much more interested in Callie than you ever had been in me, and I just wanted you to be happy." A tear escaped the corner of her eye. She brushed it away and tried to laugh about it. "Of all things, I would start tearing up. You probably think I'm some kind of over-emotional idiot weakling."

"Hey, feeling things strongly doesn't make you any of those things," Frank assured her. "It just makes you human."

"I don't see you crying."

"Yet."

Jones brushed away a couple more tears and took several deep breaths as she tried to steady herself. "All right. There's no point in dragging this out. Once and for all, Frank: do you love Callie?"

"Yes," Frank said. "I'm sorry, Jones, but…"

Jones held up her hand. "There's nothing to be sorry about. That's great. There's no guessing games here. We both know exactly where the other one stands. I'm glad you and Callie are happy."

Frank felt tears threaten his own eyes and he stoically tried to fight them back. "But are you?"

The question didn't meet with an immediate response. Jones kept her eyes on the ground in front of her and hugged her arms to herself. "I don't know," she finally admitted. "I think I will be, in time."

"I really don't know what to say," Frank replied.

"Yeah. I guess this is weird and awkward." Jones shook her head as if she was trying to shake the tears away. "You probably didn't want to hear all this. I'm sorry. I'm being so pathetic here, and this is probably the last time we're ever really going to talk."

"Why would it be that?" Frank asked.

"Because it doesn't work to try to be just friends now. Can't you see that? It's too hard. I'm never going to move on as long as there's some part of me telling me I don't have to."

Frank shoved his hands in his pockets. "If that's what you want, then I'll honor it, but never is a long time. I don't think we'll never see each other again, and maybe when we do, enough time will have passed that it won't be so hard."

"Maybe. You can believe that if you like and if it's helpful to you, but for my part, I think this should be good-bye." Jones tried to smile. "Good-bye, Frank. I hope you'll always be happy. And thanks for getting me out of that kidnapping thing. Would you say good-bye to Joe for me, too? I don't think I'd better try seeing you off tomorrow."

"Okay. I can do that," Frank agreed. He shook her hand. "Good-bye, Jones. I won't forget you, even if we don't meet again, and I hope you can find someone who can make you happy."

Jones nodded briefly, blinking away the tears, before she reached up and kissed him on the cheek.

HBHBHBHBHB

"This is it, I guess," Jim said as he and the Hardys stood in front of the Fenghuang airport the next morning. "Thank you for solving the mystery."

"You're welcome," Joe assured him on behalf of the others. "Are you sure you're all right, though? What are you going to do now? I mean, I wouldn't really want to go back to working with Wanda at the mission after the way she acted, even if that's what Jones is going to do."

Jim looked off toward the horizon before answering. "Yes, I am all right. I do not think I will go back to the mission. I can find a job, and maybe, in a little while, I will try contacting my parents again. I can never agree with what they did, but they are my parents. I should at least talk to them."

"Are you sure?" Frank asked. "I mean, with the things they did…" He didn't finish the sentence.

"I think you're right to try, Jim," Fenton said after a moment's pause. "But be careful. Don't let them hurt you."

Jim smiled slightly. "I am not made of glass, Mr. Hardy. I will be all right."

Time was running short, so there was no chance for further discussion. The Hardys said their good-byes and headed into the airport. A couple of hours later, they were on their way back home to the United States and Bayport.

HBHBHBHBHB

It was a long flight, and so they were all groggy and tired and a little grouchy when they finally landed in Bayport. Even so, it cheered them to enter the baggage claim area and see Laura, Callie, and Aunt Gertrude waiting for them.

Frank was the first to rush to them. He gave Callie a kiss and a hug first, before allowing his mother and aunt to practically smother him with hugs. Callie chuckled at the sight.

Fenton was moving more slowly because of his injury, and Joe walked with him. That left Laura and Aunt Gertrude to come to them once they had finished greeting Frank.

"Are you sure you're all right, Fenton?" Laura asked after kissing him and tightly hugging both him and Joe. "I've been so worried ever since the boys called to tell me what had happened."

"I'm okay," Fenton assured her. "I'm looking forward to some time off, but I'm okay. The doctor would have never let me come home if I wasn't."

"As if anyone could stop you, even if they have common sense on their side," Gertrude said, shaking her head, although there was a fond smile on her face for all her attempts to appear disapproving. "We'll probably have to tie you down to keep you from taking on another case before you're fully recovered."

Fenton chuckled. "You might have a point there."

Gertrude gave an exaggerated sigh of frustration before turning her eye on Joe. "And what about you? Frank comes back with a broken hand and Fenton comes back half-killed. What horrific injuries have you forgotten to tell us about?"

"None," Joe replied, glad that the cuts and bruises on his face were mostly healed now. "I was completely careful the entire time."

"More like lucky, I suspect," Aunt Gertrude retorted.

Joe's only response was to grin.

Laura put one arm about her husband and the other around Joe. "Let's get you all home now. Lucky or not, you all look like you could use some rest."

"You can say that again," Joe agreed.

"Um, Mrs. Hardy," Callie spoke up, "since there isn't much room in your car, I could give Frank a ride home. And Joe," she added, as if it was an afterthought.

"Sure, that sounds like a great idea," Frank said. He hoped he wasn't being too obvious, but then it wasn't like anyone in his family was unaware of how he felt for Callie, even if he had yet to say it bluntly.

Joe picked up his bag from where it was sitting next to him. "Thanks for the offer, Cal, but I'll ride with Mom and Dad, if it's all the same to you."

Callie's grateful smile told him that that was what she had been hoping he would say. They walked out to the parking lot together, and then went their separate ways to the cars. Gertrude had insisted on carrying Fenton's bags for him. At first, Fenton put up a feeble struggle, but in the end, he had no choice but to agree.

When they reached the car, Laura helped Fenton into it while Joe and Gertrude stowed the bags in the trunk. Gertrude put Fenton's in first and then waited while Joe hoisted his own in, noting with satisfaction that there was no painful hitch in his movements.

"So," she said, with her arms folded. Joe froze, wondering if he had done something that was about to earn him a lecture. "I understand you not wanting to be a third wheel with Frank and Callie," Gertrude went on, "but why would you have to be a third wheel? Where's Iola?"

"Oh." Joe had been hoping it would be a question that would allow him to relax a bit, but it wasn't. "She's, uh, in Texas. She had to leave early to get to school and settle and everything. I knew she would be able to be here."

"Mm-hmm." Gertrude frowned. "You two aren't having any trouble, are you?"

"Trouble? Of course not. We're both just busy and don't get the chance to see each other as much as we'd like."

Gertrude shook her head. "If you're too busy to make time for each other, then take it from me, you're not going to be able to work things out."

The dire prediction stung, all the more so because the same suspicion had been growing in Joe's mind. Even so, he tried to brush it off. "Ah, don't worry about us, Aunt Gertrude. If it's meant to be, it'll work out."

"Maybe, but sometimes what's meant to be needs work to make it happen."

"Why, Aunt Trudy," Joe said in a teasing tone, "you sound like you're talking from experience."

"And if I am, it's because I know you don't want to make the same mistakes I did," Gertrude retorted. "If you want to hold onto her, Joe, you might think about taking this seriously."

"Yeah, I will," Joe replied, dropping his teasing tone.

HBHBHBHBHB

At the same time, Frank and Callie were making their way to her car. Frank had a rolling suitcase, so he was able to convince Callie to let him manage it himself. However, when it came to putting it in the trunk, he had to allow her to help.

"Does your hand hurt much?" Callie asked as she closed the trunk lid. She eyed the temporary sling in which Frank's right arm was encased.

"A little, now and then," Frank admitted, "but it'll be all right. I might be stubborn sometimes, but I'm not stupid. I'll take care of it."

"I'm glad," Callie said. "Macho guys who would rather die than go to the doctor probably usually wind up doing exactly that." They both chuckled and then Callie added, "You still never did tell me how it happened."

"Yeah, well, that's not really all that important," Frank replied. He looked down at the asphalt. "I'll tell you about it later, but there's something else I need to tell you first: thank you."

"Thank you?" Callie repeated with a confused shake of her head. "What do you mean? I didn't do anything."

"You did a lot more than I realized at the time." Frank took her hand in his good one. "You knew that Jones still had a crush on me, and you trusted me enough to let me go anyway."

Callie's cheeks reddened slightly. "Oh. That wasn't so very much. If you really care about me, then I can trust you in any situation, and if I can't trust you, then clearly you don't feel the same way I do." She looked up and met his eyes. "What happened?"

"Nothing, except that I learned that maybe I am a little stupid, after all, for not realizing that might be the case. She thought it would be best if she and I never saw each other again. I don't know that we have to go that far, but if that's what you're more comfortable with, then that's okay with me."

Callie paused for a few seconds and then she said, "I'm not going to put a leash on you, Frank. Like I said, either I can trust you completely, or I can't at all. I won't say who you can and can't be friends with. Jones is a good person, and for my part, I'll always consider her a friend."

"You're amazing, Callie," Frank said. He felt like his heart might burst just looking at her. Then he leaned in and kissed her. It was a long kiss, and even after it ended, they remained holding one another as Frank said softly, "I love you."

HBHBHBHBHB

Laura woke up early the next morning. It was only half past four, but she found she couldn't get back to sleep. For several minutes, she lay propped on her elbow, watching Fenton slumber next to her and thanking God that he and the boys had come home in one piece once again. A lump caught in her throat as her eye fell on the bandages pasted over Fenton's wound, reminding her of how close she had come to losing him. Yet Fenton seemed to be all right. His chest was rising and falling slowly and rhythmically as he slept untroubled. Laura quickly thanked God for that, too, and then she got up carefully, trying not to wake him.

She went down to the kitchen and brewed some coffee before she sat down to think for awhile. She had only taken her first sip when she heard Fenton ask from behind her, "Is there enough for another cup?"

Laura jumped to her feet. "Fenton! What are you doing up? You shouldn't be walking around with your injury."

"I know, but the doctor said I could move around a little." Fenton slid into one of the kitchen chairs. "I woke up and you weren't there and…" He trailed off.

"I'm sorry." Laura poured another cup of coffee and set it in front of him. "I tried not to wake you up."

"It wasn't you that did." Fenton grimaced as he swirled the coffee in the cup.

Laura sighed. "I thought you were all right. You seemed like you were."

"I'm not so sure I ever will be." Fenton chuckled humorlessly. "I hate being afraid to go to sleep, especially with so many weeks ahead of me when I'll have to sleep. Joe found out, by the way. He's probably told Frank. They must think I'm a basket case."

Laura reached out and took his hand. "They don't think any such thing. The boys think the world of you. They always have, and I'm sure they understand. You're only human, Fenton, and there are some things no human being can deal with on their own."

"So you still think I should look into counseling?"

"It couldn't hurt."

Fenton shook his head. "I don't want to tell some stranger all my problems"

"I know, but if it helps, it would be worth it." Laura squeezed his hand. "Please think about it. Even if it's not for yourself. You know, if the boys keep on doing detective work, they'll probably be where you're at someday. They need to know that there's nothing to be ashamed of in getting help when you need it."

"That's almost not fair," Fenton protested, although there was a hint of a smile around his mouth. "When you put it that way, it makes it pretty tough to keep refusing."

"Then you'll think about it?"

"I'll think about it." A shadow passed over Fenton's face. "You know, you're usually right, Laura, but I hope you're wrong this time."

"About the counseling?"

"No, about Frank and Joe. I hope neither one of them every has to go through something like this."

Laura got up and went to put her arms around him, kissing his forehead. "You're going to be all right, honey. We can beat this."

HBHBHBHBHB

The days passed quickly after that. There was a lot to do with getting ready for another year of college at Clairmont, and Frank and Joe were finding that most of what they wanted to do was to merely rest. Even so, by the night before they were to leave, they had everything packed and all the last minute details squared away.

It was nearly one in the morning and Frank flopped on his bed with his clothes still on. He told himself he was just going to get a few minutes of dozing in before he changed. After all, it was a bit of an ordeal changing clothes one-handed and around the much more intense cast that he had on his hand now after his surgery.

His moment of dozing was rudely interrupted by his door swinging open. Frank shot up out of bed as if he had been caught doing something wrong. Then he realized the intruder was only Joe.

"Don't you ever knock?" he grumbled in irritation.

"I did knock, but you ignored it," Joe defended himself.

"Oh." Frank sat back down on his bed. "You need something?"

Joe sat on the floor. "I couldn't sleep. I just wanted to talk."

"Couldn't we talk tomorrow? We share an apartment after all."

Joe propped his chin up on one fist. "Well, yeah, but I'll probably be able to sleep tomorrow night. And I don't know."

"You don't know what?" Frank shifted position, trying to wake himself up again. Clearly, he wasn't convincing Joe to go anywhere anytime soon.

"There are a few things about this latest case that I feel like we need to talk about."

"At one o'clock in the morning?"

Joe grinned. "Come on, you've got to start the school year off right. Pull your first all-nighter of the semester."

"The semester hasn't technically started and I'm not pulling an all-nighter, so whatever you want to say, you'd better say it." Frank yawned.

"To start with, there was that monastery. I never did tell you what happened there. It might not be the best thing to talk about in the middle of the night, though, come to think of it."

That woke Frank up a bit since he had been wondering about that very thing. "What did happen? Black Rose must have done a great job of rigging it up to have you so spooked about it."

"Alyssa said that Black Rose didn't rig the place up to look haunted. They didn't use it at all, except as a convenient red herring to lead us to," Joe replied.

"And you believe Alyssa?"

"In this case, yes." Joe bit his lip. "There's no natural explanation for it. It's hard to explain, because I don't know how to describe the feeling I had the whole time I was there, and that was the most convincing part. It wasn't like anything I've ever felt before."

"Black Rose might have been pumping some kind of drug or something into the air," Frank pointed out. "Just enough to put visitors off-balance and get them into a suggestive frame of mind."

"It wasn't a drug. It was absolutely unmistakable, and you'd know that if you felt it. Then there were the sounds. I won't bother explaining about that, because that one's easy enough to explain. There was the blood, too. It was like something out of that book we had to read in junior year English literature. Uh, Hawthorne…"

"The House of the Seven Gables?" Frank asked.

"Yeah, that one, with the blood oozing out of the walls. Only interesting part of the book. Anyway, that was what was literally happening here. Well, I don't know that the blood was coming out of the walls, but it was all over them, and it was fresh and warm and wet, until I touched it. Then it instantly dried up like blood that's forty years old should."

"It could have been some chemical reaction between the blood and the walls that was preserving it, or maybe it was just a trick of the light," Frank said.

Joe shook his head. "That's what I thought at first, too, but it was definitely fresh and it definitely immediately dried up. But that wasn't even the worst part. We heard Jones calling our names. Biff's and mine, that is, not yours."

"How did she know which ones…" Frank paused as he realized what he was supposed to be picking up. "Jones was never at the monastery. She said they had her at that nightclub and then moved her to the palace."

"Exactly. But it was her voice, and I saw her, too. At least, it looked like her. It did not act like her and it stopped sounding like her after a little while."

"An impersonator, maybe? I know it sounds far-fetched, but it wouldn't be the first time we ran into something like that."

Joe shook his head. "Definitely not." He described the whole incident, although the entire time, it was making him feel creepy-crawly, as if the creature was sitting right behind him and he'd see it if he turned his head.

Frank listened carefully, but also incredulously. When Joe finished, he hesitated. "I don't know. You said you passed out or this person knocked you out. You don't really know what happened after that. It still could have been a Black Rose person. I mean, we've heard some pretty crazy haunting stories, and no matter how convincing they were, there was always a natural explanation."

"Not this time," Joe insisted. "You know I'm not gullible when it comes to this kind of thing. I've always been right there with you, playing the skeptic for every reported haunting. This was real. I'm sure about it. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it, and to tell the truth, that's why I couldn't sleep tonight."

Frank sighed. "Joe…I know it's a cliché, but it's true: there's no such thing as ghosts. Even if there was, what are you going to do about it? It's not like you can dispel ghosts."

"I know. I guess I've got to find some way to live with it. In some ways, not thinking about it is the easiest."

So that was it, Frank thought. Joe was here for a distraction. Frank set right to work in thinking of one. "Speaking of Alyssa and whether to believe her or not, what did you think about what she told us?"

"You mean, about not crossing Black Rose's path again?" Joe shrugged. "It's not exactly a big surprise. It's not like they haven't tried to kill us the other times we've run into them."

"Do you think they'll specifically come after us now?"

"Maybe. Whether they do or not, I don't think we've seen the last of them," Joe replied.

"No, I don't think so," Frank agreed.

Author's note: Fini. Thank you so, so much for reading! I so appreciate it and the thought that you've maybe enjoyed reading what I've written is so exciting to me. Thank you especially to everyone who has left reviews throughout the story or who will leave them in the future! There is literally no better way to support and encourage an author than reviewing their work, even if you can't give a completely positive review. Charitable critiques show far more interest in a writer's work than polite but insincere compliments, so don't ever be afraid to give me some constructive criticism when you think I need it. And of course, it goes without saying that honest, positive reviews are always very, very appreciated. So thank you all again!

I know I'm leaving this story off a little ominously. There's definitely potential for things to go very wrong. So it's probably not super fair to leave you in suspense for a long time, but I'm afraid I'm going to. My plan is to start posting the next story in September. The reason for this is because I want to take a little break from writing fanfiction for a little while to catch up on some other things. Then, after my break, I want to try my hand at writing for a different fandom. I think it will be good for me as a writer to break things up and work with some different characters and different genres for a little while before I get stale (if I haven't already).

What the delay absolutely does not mean is that I'm unsure where this series is going. My plans for three more stories after this one are still set, although books 6 and 7 have swapped places. I will be writing the story I meant to be #7 next and the one meant to be #6 after it, so if I seem to think that I'm working on the seventh part of the series in the next story, that's why. I can't seem to get it into my head that that one is now #6. Anyway, in accord with ancient tradition, I will now announce the title of the next book. **Dun, dun, dun** The next book will be called:

Blaze of Glory

I won't give many details regarding what it's about, except for two things. First off, I expect it to be a bit shorter than most of the other stories have been in this series. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised at all if it comes out about the same length as Four Strangers, which was approximately half the length that all the following stories have been. Second, it's a far more character-driven story than any that I've had in this series so far. In fact, the mystery has taken such a back seat to the character development that it's not even really a mystery anymore, although it still has a lot of action and may possibly turn out to be the most intense story yet in this series.

So, once again, I cannot thank you enough for all your support. I hope you've enjoyed this story and I hope to see you all again for the next one. Until then, may God bless you all!

~Elizabeth Joan