Fenton Hardy hung up the phone and sighed. Laura was mad at him again. She wanted him to spend more time with the boys. He'd tried telling her that these cases were very important, and this is how he would get a reputation as a detective, but she wouldn't listen. He'd only started out as a private investigator a few years ago, and his reputation was building, but he still needed to take these cases, or his reputation could go as quickly as it had come. Laura disagreed. She thought that now that he had a reputation, he should spend more time with his boys. They were 6 and 7- 7 and 8?- and growing up fast.

'But I need to take on these cases, ' Fenton thought to himself. 'I'll have plenty of time with the boys once my reputation is secure. Laura's just upset because I've been busy lately.' Even so, Fenton decided to finish this case quickly. He had been away a lot recently, and it wasn't unfair of Laura to want him at home.

A few days later, Fenton had wrapped up his case. With the evidence he had collected, the man would be jailed for sure. He wanted to surprise Laura and the boys, so he didn't call to tell them the case was closed. Instead, he took a taxi home, figuring the cost was worth it for the look of surprise on Laura's face. On the way there, he leaned back and closed his eyes. He couldn't wait to see his family again. The taxi came to a halt, and he opened his eyes.

Fenton paid the taxi driver and walked up to the front door. The house was dark and quiet. This made him suspicious. 'It's not even eight o clock yet. Not even the boys would be in bed.' He silently opened the door, one centimeter at a time. Not a sound.

Quietly, Fenton walked into the living room. His attention was immediately drawn to a piece of paper on the coffee table. Laura took pride in keeping their house clean. She wouldn't have left a random piece of paper on the table unless it was important. Quickly, he strode over to the table and snatched off the piece of paper. 'Come to Warehouse 9 immediately. You are being watched. Do not contact anyone, or your family dies.'

Fenton growled in anger. Someone had dared to kidnap his family! He had to go to the warehouse, and he couldn't bring any back up. He had to get there now. They had said immediately, but who knew how long ago that was. Fortunately, his car was sitting in the garage. Hastily, afraid that he may already be too late, he got in his car and drove to Warehouse 9. He fought his urge to speed over there, knowing he could not afford to waste any time, and if he was fined for speeding, that's what he would risk.

Finally, Fenton arrived at the warehouse. "I'm glad you arrived." said a menacing voice from inside the building. " Come inside and take a seat." Fenton warily went inside and looked around. The building was dark, and looked to be empty, except for a single wooden chair, with a spotlight trained on it. He sat down on the chair.

"Good. Very good." said the voice. Suddenly, cuffs came out of the chair and wrapped around Fenton's arms and legs, holding him in place. Fenton struggled, but soon realized escape was impossible. When he stopped struggling, a well dressed man in his 30s stepped out of the shadows. "Remember me?"

Fenton did remember this man. Jack Welsh had been suspected in several kidnapping cases a few years ago, but nothing could be proved against the millionaire. "What do you want with my family?" Fenton snarled.

Jack Welsh smiled. "Temper, temper! Don't worry Fenton, your family aren't harmed- yet. I just wanted to talk."

"About what?" Fenton was still angry.

Welsh opened his mouth in mock surprise. "About your family of course!"

"You don't know anything about my family!"

"Oh, I know a lot more than you think."

Fenton remembered now that one of the unusual parts of the kidnappings Welsh had been suspected of, was that the victims, usually children, were followed for weeks, or even months, before being kidnapped.

"I probably know more about your children than you do, in fact. Try me. Ask me anything about them." Welsh smiled in expectation.

Fenton decided to play along with his game. The longer he could stall, the more likely help could come. "What are my children's names?"

"Please. I expected something much more challenging. Your sons are Franklin Andrew Hardy and Joseph Irving Hardy. Ask something else. "

"What are their ages?"

"Your older son is 7, and your younger son is 6. Ask something else."

Fenton remained silent. He knew he should ask more, to stall, but he couldn't bear to play this man's game any longer. Welsh's smile grew wider. "Don't you know anything else about your darling children? My, my, what a disappointment. I suppose I'll have to tell you something about them. I even brought videos, but we'll get to those later. First, I'll tell you a few things about Laura, Frank, and Joey. But mostly about the boys."Did you know, for instance, that Joe has been told that he could be on the baseball team next year? Both of your boys are very good at baseball, and Joe will probably follow Frank onto the team. And Frank? He's moved up a belt in karate. Not that you would know that, because you aren't there."

"I am there! I'm there when they need me!"

"Fristly, I'd like to point out that maybe you should be there when they don't need you. Then, I'd have to say, are you there when they need you?"

"Of course I am!"

"Really? Then why aren't you there when your sons have nightmares? You're not there when your wife cries herself to sleep. You aren't there when your sons get into fights at school. Don't they need you then?"

"Yes, but-"

"But what? You're too busy? Laura isn't too busy to read with Frank and Joe every week. Frank isn't too busy to help Joe with his schoolwork. Joe isn't too busy to make Frank come out and play. You're the only one that's too busy."

"I've got a job! I need to work, to get money, so we can eat, and have a place to live!"
"You need to work so hard that your family never sees you?"

A pause in the argument, then Welsh spoke again. "I've got a video I'd like you to see." He was still smiling nastily as a video began to play.

Frank and Joe, in Joe's bedroom. It's late at night, and Frank is sitting beside Joe, with his arm around him. Joe is crying. "What's wrong, Joey? Why aren't you asleep?" Frank says softly.
Joe leans further into his brother's embrace, still crying. Frank waits patiently until Joe's tears start to abate. " Daddy still isn't home." Joe whispers sadly. "He didn't even call. Mommy said he would. Mommy said he would call to tell us good night." Joe turns to look at Frank, his eyes filled with tears. "Does Daddy even love us any more?"

Frank sits still for a moment, thinking. "Mommy loves us. She tells us every night." he says steadfastly. Joe's eyes light up. "Oh yeah. I'd forgotten." he says excitedly. Frank adds something else. "I love you, little brother, even if Daddy doesn't anymore. Don't forget that." Joe grins, then lies back down on his bed and closes his eyes. "I love you big brother." Joe murmurs, almost asleep. Frank smiles. "I love you too little brother." He tucks the covers around Joe, then leaves the room.

Jack Welsh's voice rang out in glee. "Your sons don't even think you love them. And I think they are right. How could any loving parent spend so much time away from their children? Do you know how, Hardy?"

Fenton couldn't say anything. How could he have spent so much time away from his family? He couldn't answer, because there was no answer.

"Nothing to say? Then I'll have to suppose you really don't love your sons, or even your wife. If that's the case," said Welsh, raising his voice over Fenton's protesting, "If that's the case, then I'll take them away." The smile dropped from his face. "One word from you," he snarled, " and I'll kill them instantly. Got that? Not. One. Word." Fenton nodded slowly. "Good." The smile reappeared on Welsh's face.

Welsh motioned towards the edge of the room. Fenton could just barley see a door there. Laura stepped out of the door, and into the light. She looked anxiously at him. Fenton wished he could ask if she was alright, but it was more than their lives were worth.

Welsh's smile widened as he looked at her. "As you can see, you are both uninjured. Now, Mr and Mrs Hardy, enjoy your last moments together. Soon, I will be taking one of you off with me, and I won't be sending a forwarding address." Laura remained silent, though her eyes widened in horror. "Step aside, Mrs Hardy, the boys need to be here too." Laura stepped aside, still not making a sound.

Frank stepped into the room next. Frank still had a calm, serious, though slightly worried, look on his face, and Fenton marveled at how he could keep his calm, even in the midst of all this. "Ah, the little genius." Walsh said. "Hardy, did you know that Frank here has been accepted into a special program for young scientists this summer? I don't suppose you would."

There was a long pause. Clearly, they were waiting for something. Welsh's smile darkened. "Get the kid in here!" he shouted.

There was a short delay, then Joe Hardy was pushed into the room and tumbled into Frank's arms. Joe looked gratefully at his brother, then glared at Welsh. Fenton almost laughed at the amount of scorn on that little face. Welsh ignored it, and smiled at Joe. "What a stubborn little boy! Kicking the shins of my guards is no way to make friends you know."

"I don't wanna make friends!" Joe shouted, despite Frank's frantic attempts to keep him quiet. " I wanna go home!"

Welsh chuckled at the outburst, then looked over at Fenton. "Wave goodbye to your kiddies now. Oh that's right. You don't care!" He laughed loudly as Laura, Frank, and Joe were led outside, then he walked outside after them, still laughing maniacally, leaving Fenton tied up in the warehouse. Fenton closed his eyes in shock. They were gone, they were all gone. He couldn't even go after them! Why hadn't he spent time with his family while he could? Now they were gone!

Fenton felt someone shaking his shoulder. "Hey dude, you're here. Pay up." he opened his eyes to find a taxi driver staring at him. "Dude, it's getting late, I want to go home. Just pay up already, so I can leave."

In a daze, Fenton paid the driver and got out of the taxi. Had it really just been a dream? He stood there on the curb outside his house, watching. Laura had left the windows open, and he could see her in there with the boys, eating dinner. He wished he could be in there with them. Then he realized, he could. With a smile on his face, Fenton quickly strode up the path, and opened the door. "Surprise!" he shouted. Instantly, he was assaulted by his two sons and his wife. It was good to be home.