J.M.J.

Author's note: Thank you so much for continuing to read! Thank you especially to ErinJordan, MargaretA66, max2013, Candylou, and angelicalkiss for your reviews on the previous chapter! Will Vanessa be making an appearance? At this point, I don't think she will. I could change my mind, but I think there's enough going on in the next two books that I really don't need to throw another wrench in things by introducing Vanessa. Hopefully, that isn't a disappointment to anyone. Now, I had planned for this chapter to be an epilogue, but honestly, I don't see any reason why it can't simply be a chapter, so I'm calling it chapter 11 instead. It is the final chapter, however, so without any further ado, enjoy!

Chapter XI

It was ten days after the hostage incident. Frank was recovered enough to be stir-crazy, and so he had gone on a drive with Callie. Joe was sitting on the front porch of the Hardy house, picking at some grass while he thought things over once again. His thoughts were interrupted by the rhythmic clip-clop of horse hooves on pavement.

He looked up to see Iola approaching astride the back of her horse, Jackson. Joe grinned in amusement and went down the front walk to meet her.

"Did you ride all the way from your house?" Joe asked. "That's seven or eight miles. I'm not even going to ask how long that took."

Iola laughed. "You don't want to know. But you know, I've got a long way to go before I get cleared to drive a car, so I figured I've got a reliable means of transportation."

"Hmm. In that case, we'd better be putting up a hitching post in front of the house."

Iola flipped the reins in her hands as she looked down. "I wasn't sure you'd want me coming around often enough for that to be practical."

Joe also looked away a moment before looking back and saying, "What makes you think that? No matter what's happened between us, you're still one of my best friends."

"Thanks. Here, help me get down from here, would you?"

Joe helped Iola down from the horse's back. Jackson ground-hitched, meaning that if his rider left the reins dragging on the ground, he was trained not to move from the spot, so there was no need to tie him up. Joe then helped Iola walk up to the porch. The exertion tired her, but Joe was impressed by how little help she really needed.

"You've made a lot of progress. That's great," he told her as he helped her sit on the steps and then sat down next to her.

Iola nodded, trying to disguise that she was breathing hard. "It's better than I hoped I'd be able to do for a long time. I don't know if I'll ever be able to walk completely normally again." She crooked a smile. "You know something funny? I'm okay with it if I don't. It wouldn't make me worth any less."

"Of course not. You're a lot braver about it than I would be, though."

Iola grinned. "I serious doubt that, but I also sincerely hope it never gets tested." She looked down at her hands. "I wanted to…talk…about a couple of things. I know we really haven't talked since we…"

"Broke up?" Joe finished the sentence for her.

"Yeah, since we did that." Iola shook her head. "It's been such a crazy couple of months, but after last week…I know I should have come to see you sooner. I haven't even asked how you are."

"I'm okay. They didn't really hurt me."

Iola looked at him intently. "There's more than one way of hurting a person, you know."

"No symptoms of traumatic stress, for me anyway, if that's what you're getting at," Joe replied. "These things don't really get to me that way. Probably one too many knock out blows to the head. Knocked something loose."

"That seems like a pretty benevolent side effect," Iola teased before growing serious again. "What way do these things get to you?"

Joe shrugged. "They tend to make me think about stuff. Which I've probably had one too many knocks on the head for that, too."

"Joe, could you be serious for five seconds here?" Iola requested. "Look, I've been thinking a lot, too, since last week, about us."

Joe nodded slowly. "Yeah, that's definitely one of the things I've been thinking about. You know, I wonder how things would be different if I'd gotten up the nerve to ask you out a lot sooner than I did."

"Do you think we'd still be together?"

"Maybe we wouldn't have even lasted as long as we did, and maybe things would have been a lot less friendly between us when it all fell apart."

"What makes you so sure it would have fallen apart?" Iola asked.

"Because we want different things out of life. That's why we decided to call it quits, anyway."

"True." Iola sighed. "I wish there was a way you could shut off your feelings, though. They keep making me second guess myself. Like maybe since I still feel the way I do, we should try to make it work."

Joe shook his head. "It takes more than just feelings to make a relationship work. Do you know how many actual conversations like this we've had in the past year?"

"Two. This one and the one where we broke up. You're right, but why couldn't we try harder?"

Joe bit his lip and stood up. "Iola, if what you're getting at is that you want to get back together, I can't. Not now. I've got too much to sort out right now. I know that sounds like an excuse and…" He paused as he saw Iola's eyes growing red-rimmed and his shoulders sagged. "I'm sorry."

Iola brushed at her eyes before any tears could escape. "I know. I just don't understand. Don't you feel anything for me at all?"

Joe ran his hand through his hair. "Of course I do. How could I not? It's just…We're not the same kids we were when we started dating, and most of how we've changed, we've done that separate from each other. It's…It's like when a tree trunk splits and it might still be the same tree, but the only way to put the trunks back together is to break them off."

Iola was trying to focus on not crying. That was the last thing she wanted to do. For a long time, she had had an unfounded fear that Joe was only dating her because he felt sorry for her. She didn't want that to become a reality. So the natural thing that came to mind was to try to make light of the situation. "That's very…philosophical of you."

Joe noticed the slightly nasally tone and he knew that Iola was struggling. "And corny, I know." He forced a laugh that didn't convince either of them. Then he sighed. "Look, Iola, I'll always consider you one of my best friends. I hope you'll always think of me the same way. The thing is I don't really know what I want anymore. There's a lot of stuff that's happened in the last few years. Some you know about and some you don't. I need some time to sort through things, finish college…Yeah, you've heard all that before. It's obviously not good enough."

"No, it's not," Iola agreed. "Just tell me the truth: did I do something to hurt you? Are you angry with me?"

Joe hesitated. "I'm not angry with you about anything. Definitely not. But there have been times—a lot of times, actually—when I needed someone to talk to and you weren't there. I know it wasn't intentional and I know I've done the same to you probably more often and for worse reasons. We hardly ever see each other. We'd have to change a lot for this to work."

"That's true." Iola thought back over the last few years and everything she had been through. It had been her parents and Chet and Callie and other friends she had made in the meantime who had been there for her through it all, hardly ever Joe. He was always somewhere else, investigating some mystery or in college or some other obligation…or dealing with his own problems. It tore at Iola's heartstrings to know that, in addition to the troubles she knew about, Joe had been through other hardships that she had no idea about. In any case, she hadn't been there for him through any of it. She heaved a long sigh. "I suppose it's no use saying I could change? But I shouldn't have even asked that."

"If anyone should change, it should be me," Joe insisted. "But that's a moot point. It's just that, at the end of the day…"

"It was just a crush, and then a routine," Iola finished for him, the realization occurring to her almost as she said the words. She took in a deep breath. "In other words, it was all a misunderstanding."

"Iola, I…" Joe tried to protest, but Iola held her hand up.

"No, I finally understand. It's okay. I'd rather know the truth than keep on wondering. And while we're being honest, maybe it was the same for me, too. It just felt safe and secure and predictable." She shook her head, trying to shake away the tears that were gathering. "I'm sorry. I should have seen it before now. Really, I've just been using you this whole time, haven't I?"

"Hey, it goes both ways," Joe replied. "It's okay, honestly."

HBHBHBHBHB

Joe went right up to his room after that. He was tired and even felt a little bit like sitting down and crying. Of course, that was barely more than a half-formed thought in the back of his mind, but he definitely felt the need to be alone for awhile. He dozed off a bit, but before he fell asleep entirely, he heard a soft knock on his door.

"Come in," he responded reflexively, despite the fact that he really didn't want to talk to anyone right now. He sat up and smoothed his hair down.

It was his dad who entered his room, looking a little sheepish. It was an attitude Joe had only seen in his father once before, and so it was easy to guess what was on his mind.

"Are you doing okay?" Fenton asked.

Joe shrugged slightly. "Yeah, I guess so, considering. Iola and I are still broken up, but that's all right."

Fenton looked a bit surprised. "Do you want to talk about that? You know, talking things over really does help, I've come to find out."

"Yeah, but I don't want to right now."

"Okay, well…What I really wanted to say was that I owe you an apology."

Joe's eyebrows rose in confusion. "For what? You didn't break us up."

"Of course not. I'm sorry about last week."

"Oh." Joe paused and then gestured for his dad to sit next to him. "It wasn't your fault. I should be apologizing. I didn't do what you told me and I could have gotten us all killed. I did almost get myself killed. If it wasn't for Mom…" He shook his head and would have gone on, but Fenton didn't let him.

"No. I shouldn't have asked you to do that." Fenton sat down with a sort of exasperated gesture, but Joe got the definite impression that his exasperation was not directed at Joe. "I spend so much time worrying about you and Frank and forgetting that you're not children anymore and then in the next breath, I forget you're not professionals. I've never prepared you for something like that, so I shouldn't have asked it of you."

Joe looked down at his hands. "What should have you done then? Go along with my stupid plan? I see now that it was stupid and desperate and you couldn't have gone along with it. As for preparing me…What could have you done differently? You've always taught me that human life is invaluable and that the only time it's ever permissible to…to end a life is when there's no other way to protect yourself or another person. You've never said it directly, that I remember, but I'd have to kind of stupid to not figure it out for myself that I might sometime find myself in a situation where I'd have to defend myself. I've always wondered whether I'd be able to do it, but now I know, even if I wasn't going to be the one to pull the trigger. What could have you really done to prepare me?"

"I suppose there really isn't any way to prepare someone for that," Fenton admitted.

Joe gave him a curious look. "Dad, have you ever killed anyone?"

For a moment, Fenton stiffened and then he nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I have, and I'm glad that's not a burden you have to carry. I hope you never will."

"I think I can safely say I won't," Joe said, "but then, in this line of work, if I can't or won't defend myself, I probably don't have a very long life expectancy. You know, I've been thinking, for the first time in my life, that maybe this isn't what I want to do with my life. I'm not saying I'd give up detective work altogether. I really can't picture that. But maybe I need to keep my amateur status."

"What would you do instead?"

"I don't know. I'd have to think about that more. I've been thinking I'd switch majors or maybe even switch colleges altogether. Who knows? I would get a different job, too, obviously. I don't know. I just want to shake things up and see if maybe I could be happy doing something else after all."

Fenton nodded. "That sounds like a good plan."

"It doesn't bother you if I don't follow in your footsteps?"

"Of course not. It's your life and you have to live it."

"Then it also wouldn't bother you if I made some other decisions that, well, aren't exactly how you've done things?"

Fenton raised one eyebrow slightly. "What do you mean by that?"

"The ghost thing…" Joe began.

"Right. The ghost thing," Fenton repeated. He was at a loss to explain what had happened to Joe in that abandoned monastery, but he wasn't willing to concede that it was ghosts. "You're not going to become a professional ghost hunter or something? I might have to take back what I just said about that."

Joe chuckled slightly. "No. Nothing like that. I just still want to make some kind of sense of it, you know? I've looked at what different people say about and talked to different people, and I've never really gotten a satisfactory answer. Some scientific sorts say absolutely no way, it's all your imagination, whatever. Other people have different ideas about energy and whatnot, and then there are the more classic ideas that they're spirits, but there's a lot of disagreement about how that would work and why. I get it that for the most part, it's something we just don't know a whole lot about, but I've never really been one to take 'I don't know' for an answer."

"No, you certainly aren't. What are you getting at?"

"Those priests back there in Asia, they did seem to know what they were doing. And I've talked to Tony about it all. He didn't really have a complete answer because it's not really something he's studied, but what he did say seemed to hold water. Tony said that, starting in the fall each year, his church has classes, and I think I'd like to attend them."

"About ghosts?"

"No, about their religion in general, but it might get me some answers. I don't know exactly what would come of it."

"Mm-hmm." Fenton nodded. "Again, that's your decision to make. I do hope that you'll keep going to church throughout your life and keep believing in God, but it doesn't really matter to me which church you go to."

"Okay. Good. Thanks, Dad. And about last week…It's okay."

Fenton surprised him by giving him a hug, but Joe didn't mind. In fact, for the first time in a long time, it felt like everything was going to be okay.

HBHBHBHBHB

Laura was trying to read in the living room while Fenton talked to Joe. She was a bit worried about all her boys, but she was glad that in recent years, they seemed to be learning the value of talking things through. Maybe everything would be all right.

She jumped up as soon as she heard Fenton coming down the stairs and she ran to him. "Is he going to be all right?" she asked.

Fenton put an arm around her and they walked back into the living room again. "I think he's going to be just fine." He shook his head slowly. "You know, we've got some kid there."

Laura smiled. "I think both our kids are pretty all right, just like their father."

"Personally, I think they take after their mother more. You know, you've been through a lot, too."

"I know." Laura leaned her head against his shoulder. "I just try not to think about what could have happened."

"See what I mean?" Fenton kissed her on the temple. "You know, maybe you and I need to go somewhere together, spend some time when it's just the two of us."

"I'd like that."

HBHBHBHBHB

The waves were breaking on the base of the cliffs beneath Shore Road. It was the perfect time for looking out over Barmet Bay, with the sinking sun to their backs and the water glimmering in the late afternoon light. Frank and Callie sat in the front seat of Callie's car, watching the scene without saying a word.

Then, finally, Frank spoke up. "You know, I'm probably not going to get the chance to see that alien movie in theaters now."

A grin tugged at the corners of Callie's mouth. "You're not missing anything."

"I know. I don't even really care. I was just remembering how that was one of the things I thought of back there, in the jewelry store." Frank shook his head. "Funny, the things you think of in situations like that."

"I know," Callie agreed, turning to look at him, studying every detail of his face. "There were a lot of things I thought about that we might never get to do. Silly little things that weren't really important in themselves. It's just that I didn't want to miss the chance to do them with you."

"Exactly," Frank said. "I did a lot of thinking in there, when I wasn't sure I was going to make it out, and afterwards, too." He was so close to saying it, but he didn't seem to be able to get his tongue to cooperate.

"Yes?" Callie said finally, trying to prompt him to go on.

"I love you, Callie, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you." Frank took her hand. "Would you marry me?"

"Yes. Yes!"

Callie leaned over and they kissed. It was a long kiss and even when it ended, they remained with their foreheads resting against each other.

"I'm sorry I don't have a ring," Frank said finally.

"Don't worry about that," Callie assured him. "We can get one later. When would you like the wedding to be?"

"I'd like it to be tomorrow," Frank replied, "but I guess that doesn't leave a lot of time to get ready."

"No. I suppose the most sensible would be to wait until we're both graduated, but that's still almost a year away."

"We don't need to wait that long. I'm going to graduate after the fall semester, after all. But there is one thing that we should talk about first."

"What?" Callie was beginning to feel a little cramped leaning the way she was, and she pulled back slightly.

"I've been thinking for a while now that I'd like to be a police officer," Frank explained. "I think it would be good to not work for my dad for a little while, give myself a chance to be a little more independent. Then, too, it wouldn't be forever. I'd probably eventually go back to being a private detective, but I think the experience of being an officer would help a lot there. It would mean that even after I graduated, I wouldn't be able to have a regular job for a few months, so maybe it would be wisest to wait until next summer. Of course, if you don't want me to do this…"

Callie shook her head. "No, it's all right. It's a dangerous job, but no more dangerous than what you already do, and it would keep you home in Bayport or wherever we decide to live, so that part would be perfectly all right."

"You wouldn't mind the uncertainty of being married to a police officer, or a detective, for that matter?" Frank asked.

"I'd be married to you, and that's the main thing. I'd worry, yes, but I'd be okay."

Frank leaned over and kissed her again. "Callie, you are one in a million."

"I love you, Frank."

"I love you, too."

Author's note: I want to offer one final thank you to anyone reading this because it probably means you read this entire story from start to finish and I really, really appreciate that. If you have left reviews as you've read, a very big thank you for that! If you haven't, it's not too late. I'd love to hear what you thought of the story.

So, now that this story is finished, you're probably wondering what's next. I'm still on track for two more stories after this one. I'm really excited about the last two. They're what I started writing this series for. Because of that, I really want to make sure I get them right. That means that I won't start posting the next one until I've at least written a good portion of it, so I'm thinking it will be sometime after the new year. I wish I could be more specific than that, but I really can't. One thing I can be specific about, though, is the title. It will be Fallen Angel. You might have a few guesses already from that what might happen, in which case, I'd be interested in hearing them. ;)

Have a Happy Thanksgiving! And in case I don't post anything before then, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! God bless you!