Witness to Murder

"Now, there's something to die for." Joe Hardy's blue eyes sparkled as he looked down the aisle of the restaurant.

"A pepperoni pizza?" his older brother Frank joked. But he knew Joe was Jooking at the waitress, and she was worth a look.

Ever since nineteen - year - old Annie Shea had started working at Mr. Pizza, plenty of guys had tried to get her to go out with them. But Joe Hardy was the only one who had caught her interest.

Girls always liked Joe Hardy. Six feet tall, blond, well-built, seventeen-year-old Joe attracted girls the way a magnet attracts iron filings.

His brother Frank also caused girls to turn and stare. But Frank Hardy had a steady girl — Callie Shaw—and he wasn't interested in anyone else.

Joe smiled at Frank. "Can you believe I'm going out with Annie, big brother? Eat your heart out. When I'm around, she can't even see you." "Maybe she just prefers children," Frank said, and grinned slyly. He took every opportunity to remind Joe that he was a year younger. "Sure you can handle a gorgeous woman of nineteen, Joe?"

"I'm trying, I'm trying." Joe returned his brother's grin.

Annie Shea was stunning. She was tall, had a great figure, and looked wide-eyed and innocent, as if she didn't know that all the guys in Mr. Pizza were looking at her. When she caught Joe's eye, she broke into a smile that reached up to her dazzling hazel eyes. Her coppery hair billowed about her shoulders as she approached the boys with their order.

She set the special pizza on the small warming lamp. Then she served a slice to each of the boys while continuing to smile at Joe as if there were no one else in the room.

"I hope I'm the only one you smile at." Joe reached for Annie's hand, but she was too fast for him. She spun around with a laugh and scurried back to the kitchen, ignoring Frank completely.

Frank was glad to see his brother so happy. Joe looked as if he were really in love, for the first time since Iola Morton's death.

Before he could shut it out, a flash of memory sent Frank back to the explosion. An explosion caused by a terrorist bomb placed in the boys' car. The death trap had been set for the Hardys, but Iola had accidentally walked into it—and died in their place. Frank thought of the grim days following the incident, the days when Joe hadn't uttered a word. His brother had become a stranger, full of cold, hard rage and guilt.

"Hey, Frank." Joe waved his hand in front of Frank's eyes. "Don't take it so hard. I'll give you some of my tips on women if you want. You're never too old to learn new tricks."

Frank took a sip of his soda, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat. "What do you know about Annie, Joe? This pizza job's temporary, right?" He watched Joe deliberately wrap strings of cheese over the tip of his slice of pizza.

"I told you already," Joe said, obviously annoyed. "She comes from out of state. She had a bad experience with an old boyfriend, and her family didn't amount to much." He stopped his staccato delivery and raised his shoulders once.

"But that's all over now," he finally said. "She came to Bayport to make a new start. She likes to hear about my detective work. She even said she'd like to try being a detective. Nothing wrong with that, is there?" Joe had put an end to the discussion. Frank knew that his brother wasn't going to share any more right then.

He also knew Joe resented being grilled about anything, especially a girl he obviously wanted Frank to like. But Frank didn't feel comfortable with Annie. When she was around, his antennae went up. Something about the girl felt wrong.

Frank tried to ignore these feelings. He was a man of logic, a man of facts. But there it was — he just didn't trust her. Probably he needed a rest. Probably they both needed a rest. Ever since that incident with Iola, he and Joe had been involved in one case after another.

Joe, especially, had gone about their cases with a passion and iritensity that sometimes worried Frank. He'd be glad to see his brother relaxed and happy again, Frank thought as he watched Annie toss a wave at Joe from across the room. Joe was concentrating on his pizza and didn't see her, so Frank waved back for him. But Annie frowned and quickly turned away when she noticed Frank.

Frank reached for a slice of pizza and tried to concentrate on the food.

Mr. Pizza, located in the Bayport mall, was always busy, and that day every booth was jammed. But even through the drone of voices and the clatter and thud of dishes, Frank heard the pay phone near the door jingle. A guy at the nearest table answered it. Frank watched as the guy put a hand on Annie's arm to stop her.

For a moment she stood still, with a puzzled look on her face. Then she delivered the order she was carrying and returned to answer the phone. Turning her back on the crowd, she cupped the palm of one hand over her ear and held the phone to the other. "Now, that's popular," Frank said. "What is?" Joe had his back to the pay phone. "Getting calls on the pay phone where you work, especially at lunchtime." Frank nodded in Annie's direction.

Joe turned around. "Strange. Annie doesn't know anyone in Bayport. She lives alone." Annie appeared to be arguing with someone on the other end of the line. The longer she talked, the more agitated she became. Finally she hung up and stood rigid for a moment, her shoulders hunched over, her fingers pressed to her forehead.

Spinning around, she started toward the Hardys' table. Her dead white face was in stark contrast to her flaming hair. For a second, Frank caught a glint of excitement—but then all he saw was fear, filling Annie's beautiful hazel eyes.

Joe half rose from his chair. "Something must be wrong," he said, his eyes narrowing as Annie hurried to their table.

"Joe, you have to help me." Annie sounded desperate.

Joe stood up and took the girl's arm. "What's wrong, Annie?"

"Wait here until I tell Tony I'm taking off." She started to remove her apron but stopped to address Joe again. "Say you'll help me."

"Sure, Annie. We'll help," Frank assured her.

Annie's eyes flitted to Frank and then immediately back to Joe. She grasped Joe's hand and leaned in toward him. Despite her obvious fear, there was something like excitement in her eyes. "Just you, Joe, please." Her voice was a frantic whisper. "Please!" Tossing her apron on Joe's chair, she strode to the order counter.

Tony Prito, the manager of Mr. Pizza and one of the Hardys' best friends, tried to tell Annie that it wasn't a great time to take off, but she wouldn't listen. She pushed past him and dashed into the kitchen. She returned with a black purse slung over her shoulder and rushed to the front of the restaurant.

Joe motioned Frank to sit back down. "Stay here, Frank. I know you don't like Annie. If she needs help, I'll help her."

Joe dashed out of the restaurant, following in Annie's wake. Frank was left, openmouthed and surprised at his brother's attitude.

Joe had to hustle to catch up to Annie, who was halfway to the mall's outdoor parking lot.

"Annie, wait up. You have to tell me what's going on. I can't help you if I don't know what kind of trouble you're in."

Annie whirled around and took hold of both of Joe's arms, staring at him with shining eyes. "Joe, you'll think I'm awful."

"No, I won't, Annie. Tell me. Who was that on the phone?" "Phil Sidler."

Joe's hands clenched into fists. "The creep who — "

"My old boyfriend. Now that I've met you, Joe — well — Phil was the worst mistake I've ever made in my life." "That doesn't matter now, Annie — " Annie kept holding tight to Joe's arms, as if he offered the security she needed. "Yes, it does, Joe. He's here. Phil found out where I'm working. He says he's coming to get me, and take me away with him."

Before Joe could object, she continued with greater insistence. "I didn't tell you that he's insanely jealous. He'd fight a guy if I even looked at him because he was so possessive. I — I can't take it, Joe. It's starting all over again, and I don't know what to do."

Joe took Annie in his arms and smoothed her soft hair. "Annie, please don't worry. I'll protect you from this creep."

"Take me home, Joe, will you? Oh, my clothes," she said, snapping her fingers. "I'm not ' thinking straight. You get the van while I go back inside. I left my clothes. I can't let Phil find me. I just can't!"

Joe took off to get the van. He'd take Annie home, then come back for Frank. Frank would be mad, but Joe didn't care. His big brother was getting altogether too critical lately, acting as if he had to take care of Joe. As if Joe couldn't think for himself to choose a girlfriend. When Frank started telling Joe who to go out with, he needed to cool his heels. Joe smiled at the idea..

Slipping his key into the lock on the driver's side, he was about to step into the van when he heard Annie scream quite nearby. "Joe, help me!"

He spun around and saw a sleazy-looking blond guy holding Annie. It looked as if she were shouting at him. All at once she jerked loose, turned, and dashed back toward the mall. The guy lunged out, grabbed a handful of blouse, and pulled Annie behind a row of cars.

Annie screamed again. "Joe, help!"

"Help, Joe, help me!" She sounded like the voice in the recurring nightmare that so often robbed him of sleep. It was Iola's voice, calling out to him from a roaring ball of fire as the car exploded.

Joe clenched his teeth so tightly that he could feel his jaw muscles jump.

But this wasn't Iola screaming for him. It was Annie. Annie needed help! After jumping into the van, he twisted the key and the motor roared to life. He backed up, screeched to a stop, swung around, and headed for the two figures. He would pull Annie into the van and take off before her attacker could follow them.

Ahead, Joe could see Annie twisting to get away from the blond, skinny man. He had her by the arm, but Annie was strong and quick. She slipped from his grasp and stepped toward the oncoming van. The man threw himself forward and got one arm wrapped around her waist.

Bending over, she kicked back and caught his shin with the heel of her shoe. He held on, and the force of her kick sent them both reeling backward, out of sight between two cars. "Joe!" Annie screamed. As Joe started to slam the brake down, the man flew out from between the cars—right into the hood of the van.

Joe finished stomping the brake. The van bucked, and Joe flew forward, his forehead violently hitting the windshield. Through the glass, for one split second, Joe was face-to-face with the man and his grotesque expression of surprise. Then a sickening thump sounded as the man's body was tossed into the air as if it weighed no more than a rag doll.

"I think someone was killed!"

"That new girl who works here." Two people coming into Mr. Pizza were buzzing with excitement.

Frank sat for a second, immobilized. Killed — someone was killed? Annie — something had happened to Annie. Or Joe. Leaping to his feet, Frank slammed his chair onto the floor and dashed outside, pushing people out of his way.

In the parking lot the light atop an ambulance slowly revolved, throwing regular flashes of red light onto the crowd of curious onlookers. Moving closer, Frank saw the Hardys' black van at the center of the confusion.

"Joe!" he shouted. Frank pressed through bodies until he was close enough to spot his brother. He caught his breath and forced himself to speak normally. "That's my brother," Frank explained to an officer who was holding him back.

Joe Hardy was standing dazed beside the van, cupping a cold compress to his forehead. Two police officers were talking to him. One of them was Officer Con Riley, a friend of the Hardys. His expression was intense and professional as he questioned Joe.

Scanning the scene quickly, Frank saw two paramedics loading a body onto a gurney. Annie Shea, practically hysterical, was standing nearby with a policewoman on one side and a policeman on the other.

"Joe, what happened?" Frank asked quietly, nodding a hello at Con Riley.

not sure." Joe slumped against the fender of the van, continuing to hold the compress to his forehead. He took a deep breath and tried to answer Frank's question.

"Annie screamed for help. Just as I got to her, that guy — she says his name is Phil — flew right in front of the van." Joe grabbed Frank's arm. His eyes pleaded for help. "Frank, I couldn't stop in time. I couldn't help hitting him. Is he—all right?"

Con Riley shook his head grimly. "He's dead, Joe. I'm afraid you're going to have to come to the station. We'll need to go over the whole story."

"Annie?" Joe started toward the girl, but Frank grabbed his arm.

"She's all right, Joe, but I think she's on the verge of hysterics. Let the officers help her. They're trained to deal with this sort of thing."

Frank didn't want Joe going to Annie. Joe was in big trouble, and Frank couldn't help thinking that it was Annie Shea who had gotten him into it, accidentally or not.

There was nothing to be gained by staying at the scene. The police took the van—and Joe—to the Bayport police station. Frank went with them, taking advantage of the time Joe spent filling out forms to call his father.