Chapter 1:
Joe's Dream
'Where am I?' Joe thought, looking around. Last he remembered he and Frank were chasing after a pair of smugglers.
He listened and could hear children laughing. He went toward the sound and saw two little boys running and playing. One had brown hair and the other blond. The blond was younger than the brunette. Joe soon came into realization of the scene. 'That's me and Frank as kids!' he thought, watching as a background of the park and another little boy melted in. 'That's Chet!'
A car drove up to the park and stopped, someone watching the kids from the back passenger's seat with the window rolled down. 'I don't recognize him…' Joe thought, moving closer to the car. The man watching opened the door and he and two other large men came out. 'I don't like this.' Joe moved to stand in front of them and was taken off guard as they passed right through him. No one seemed to see, hear, or sense him.
The children stopped playing as the men approached them. "Fenton Hardy's boys?" the leader asked. He had brown hair and blue eyes. He was well built but not as heavily muscled as his companions.
"What do you want?" the little Frank asked, standing in front of his little brother. The leader smirked and made a signal. The two large men moved in and picked the boys up easily, despite their struggling.
"You!" the leader shouted at the retreating Chet Morton. "Tell Fenton Hardy that if he wants to see his sons alive again, then he'll have to come to the old fishing docks tonight alone, got it?" Chet looked back and nodded helplessly, continuing for the Hardy's house.
'Why am I seeing this?' Joe thought. He watched as the younger forms of Frank and himself were tossed into the back of the car and it drove away.
"No!" Joe yelled, bolting up in bed. He was sweating bullets and it took him a few seconds to realize his head was pounding.
Frank started and almost fell out of the chair he'd been sleeping in next to Joe's bed. He looked at his brother, who was holding his bandaged head. "Joe?" he asked cautiously.
"Frank?" Joe groaned painfully. "What happened?"
"While we were chasing the smugglers we ended up losing them in the park. One of them came up behind us and hit you in the back of the head with the butt of his gun. I would have gone after him, but you were bleeding pretty badly and I let him go to call dad and an ambulance."
"Wait, did you say we were in the park?" Joe's eyes widened.
"Yeah…" Frank answered.
"Do you…do you remember us getting…something happening to us in the park when we were kids?" Joe asked.
"No," Frank said. "We played there a lot, but nothing ever happened." If it wasn't the middle of the night and if the lights weren't out Joe would have noticed that Frank had a look of insincerity in his eyes.