"Look, Frank, I need you to take the case!" my father exclaimed with clear frustration.

"But I can't solve it without Joe!" I argued.  I had been a few weeks since our argument and even at school people weren't asking about it, just staying away and giving us our room,"Wait, no I can, actually it's better if I do it without him."

I had so many conflicted feelings.  I didn't really want Joe to quit, but this way it would be less dangerous for him.  I didn't want my younger brother to get hurt.

"Look Franks, you're going to have to get over Joe.  I'm sorry.  So here's the case.  Mr. Henry Barstow, CEO of the huge company, Dig It."

"Dig it?"

"Shovels.  Anyway, his 13 year old son, James Barstow got kidnapped and I need you to find him.  According to a recent note that young James's father received, the child was kidnapped by a jewel crazed group called the Assassins that will do anything for riches and such.  I need you to find James before it's to late."

I smiled, this was going to be a breeze.

I walked out the door and out to the garage to get my motorcycle.  Rearing it up, I made sure that my iPhone was in my pocket, along with my notebook, magnifying glass, and fingerprint case.  You never know what you needed when off on an interview with the suspects parent.  Looking at the address my father had given me, I almost immediately surged out of the driveway, if not for the constant honking of the Queen.

I sighed desolately, then stopped my motor, and watched as my best friend Chet Morton pulled into the drive.

"Hey pal!  Have something to eat?" Chet asked, waving from the window.

"But that's not why you're here." I guessed, knowing what he wanted to talk to me about.

"Nothing gets past you guys.  Nothing." Chet's round moon-face fell and he watched curiously as I hopped of my motorcycle, pulled of my helmet and walked to his car door.

"Wanna go in the house?" I asked, assuming that this would be a long talk.

"Great!" Chet cried, whipping his chubby hands out of his pocket and grabbing them in the air,"Maybe Auntie made some pie."

"Aunt Gertrude?  No, but she made brownies." I said, watching as my friend immediately started running to the door.

Suddenly I heard a giant roar of the motor and saw Joe pulling in the drive.  I paused by the door to watch him.  He took off his helmet and rubbed a giant new scar on his face.  He didn't look to hot.

"Um... Joe?" I asked, actually and genuinely concerned for his face.  No not in the bad way, like in the 'OH MY GOSH WHAT DID YOU DO' way.

Joe turned to me, and I swear for one moment his eyes lit up, but in the same second they dulled,"Oh hi Frank."

"Chet's here." I said, realizing that the last thing my brother wanted to do right now was talk to me.

"Okay, tell him I said hi." Joe said, tossing his helmet on the shelf and side-stepping me to get into the house.

I sighed, what had I done?

Joe walked into the house and sat on the couch to watch TV.

I followed, but instead veered off to visit Chet in the kitchen, where Auntie seemed amused at the amount he was putting away.  I heard her mumble, 'boys these days eat to much'.

I smiled and pulled Chet upstairs to my room.

"Okay spill the beans!" Chet told me,"What's going on between you and your brother?  He's been doing less cartwheels around school."

"Oh, um... he hurt his wrist?" I tried to come up with a weak excuse instead of having to explain our argument.

"That's never stopped him before has it?" Chet pointed out.  I hated to admit it, but my best friend was right.  One time, Joe broke one of his wrists, so he just did cartwheels on the other side.  Crazy skill I tell you.

"Yeah, I guess." I looked around the room for a distraction, my eyes accidentally landing on my scratchbook.  I picked it up, and flipped through the various pictures.  Joe getting adopted.  Me winning the math competition for the U.S. Joe trying out for Olympic gymnastics.  Mom at the hospital with me.  Dad with his investigator license.  Auntie moving in.... Joe and I after we solved out first mystery.

And then everything came out.

I told Chet everything.

Everything.

"It'll be fine Frank." he told me, rubbing my shaking back.

Boy, I really hope it would be.