SNOWY WINTER'S CHILL

By PorscheDsgn

Chapter Two – When Hope Is Gone

The Bayport Galleria Mall, standing three stories tall and some 100,000 square feet was a popular hanging area for the local Bayport youth. Recently remodeled on the outside, the façade was constructed of high-end brick and stone, interlacing along all sides with huge columns at each corner. There were four branches leading off from the main section, heading to the foundation stores – JC Penney, Sears, Macy's and Tribolone.

Mr. Pizza was located on the branch nearest the Sears, down the hall three doors with both an inside and outside entrance. Joe squeezed into a parking place that someone was leaving, locked up and raced inside, ignoring other shoppers who gave him confused or annoyed looks while he burst through doors without bothering to hold them for people behind him. Time meant everything at the moment; if he didn't hurry he was going to lose his brother for good.

I've already lost too much time, Joe thought bleakly. I should have been here already instead of being angry and pouting because of what Frank said this morning. I should have known, damnit! I should have known!

A near cacophony of Christmas music – currently Jingle Bell Rock – heralded his entrance into the mall itself and Joe stood for a moment, trying to get his bearings in the midst of a throng of people that filled the mall. Christmas shoppers, intent on this weekend's deals, were flocking into Sears as if nobody else mattered and Joe shot past them, and heading directly for the front entrance of Mr. Pizza. The blonde-haired youth stopped in the entrance and saw a very crowded restaurant. He felt guilty for tearing Tony away from his customers who sat waiting for service. Sighing he turned away and saw Tony running toward him, waving a hand.

"Joe!" he called. Tony stopped near Joe. Tony still wore his Mr. Pizza apron over dark slacks and a tan polo shirt. He looked tired and weary and dejected.

"Searched all over, best I could in a few minutes," Tony said. "No sign of Frank anywhere. I think we should contact security."

Joe nodded helplessly. He moved away from a family of seven who wandered past, shouldering others out of the way in their haste to get into Sears. Tony and Joe ducked into Mr. Pizza and Tony led Joe into the back office where Tony did most of his work for the restaurant.

"I'm going to go look some more," Joe said. "Why don't you call security while I'm gone? I have my cell on me. Call me if you hear anything."

Tony nodded in agreement, brushing a hand through his dark hair. He put a cap back on top of it, keeping the locks tamed. Good-looking and Italian, Tony was one of the best friends the Hardys had; Joe knew his friend would do everything he could to help find Frank.

Joe went back out into the crowded corridor and headed back toward the elevators and escalators. He peeked into each store as he went by, checking to make sure Frank had not ducked inside of one in an attempt to elude the men following him but, beyond a swarm of shoppers filling each store to near capacity, Joe saw no sign of his older brother.

It was near the elevators he got his first hint of a clue. He saw a young woman with dark hair, wearing jeans and a black cashmere coat, gesticulating wildly to a security guard who stood nearby, listening patiently to the woman's near shouts. Even over the overly loud Christmas music he heard brief snippets of the conversation coming from the young woman.

"Dragging…off…" he heard. "Down service… there…"

She was pointing to a service tunnel door that was right across from where they all stood.

"Dark haired," Joe heard. "Fighting like crazy. Tried to help but… me… wall…"

The woman rubbed a shoulder, showing that she had hit the wall fairly hard.

Joe ignored the rest of it. He shot for the door and threw it open, entering a long corridor that was much more austere and quiet than the main halls had been. A service corridor that led to the backdoors of all of the businesses in this part of the mall, Joe knew it also was one of the few that led to an outside entrance. Fearing he was way too late to do anything to help his brother, he raced down the hallway, ignoring shouts of protest from the few workers he saw lingering in the corridor. He burst through the doorway at the end of the white-painted hall and found he was standing beside a circular driveway, where supplies were picked up and dropped off by truckers who delivered to the mall.

Joe looked around in fear and saw two workers standing nearby, taking a smoke break in the cold winter Bayport air.

"Did you see two guys coming out where with a younger guy? Dark-haired, wearing…" Joe squeezed his eyes shut, trying to remember what Frank was wearing that morning. "Dark blue jeans, a washed denim shirt and a tan parka? He would have been fighting them."

The two boys denied seeing the men but they said they did see, or rather hear, something strange. "There was a silver sedan parked out here, one of those large ones. And I could swear I heard something thumping inside of the trunk of the sedan but I couldn't hear a voice or anything. It was pretty strange."

"Did you get a license plate? Did you see anything?" Joe asked urgently as he hoped for a clue of any kind whatsoever.

"No," the other smoker said with a puff of air and smoke streaming from his mouth. "The plate was covered with mud; you know what the roads are like right now. The whole car was pretty dirty, with salt and stuff. The plate was pretty hidden."

Joe sighed forlornly and looked away.

"Did something happen?" one of the boys asked curiously. "Was there something in the trunk?"

"Yeah," Joe said softly. "My brother."

Joe heads back to the entry into the building but can't open the door. One of the boys provides a key and the door opens just as the security guard Joe saw earlier was about to step through.

"What's going on?" the guard demanded. "Do you work here?"

"No," Joe said. "My name is Joe Hardy. I think my brother was kidnapped a few minutes ago."

The guard's jaw dropped agape and he stared over at the two smokers who nodded. "We didn't see the guy but we heard something from a trunk of a car. Could have been him."

"He called me earlier, telling me someone was following him!" Joe insisted as he fought for calm. He focused on the security guard's green shirt and tan pants, on the badge that marked him as mall security, on the nameplate that read "Victor".

"I don't suppose it was a joke of some kind?" the guard asked nervously. Young, maybe in his early twenties, he looked ill-prepared to deal with kidnapping attempts of any sort. "You know, two pals having a game on or something?"

Joe shook his head. "It was no game. He called me earlier and said someone was following him. He wouldn't make something like that up. We've been in too many serious situations for him to joke about it, trust me on that."

The guard studied him for a minute. "Do I know you?"

Joe shrugged. "I've been in the paper a few times, that's all. I think we should call the police. Detective Con Riley. Can we do that?"

The guard nodded and led the way back inside of the whitewashed hallway. They walked at a more sedate pace than Joe went the first time, though he was fighting himself to keep from urging everyone to hurry up. Time was of the essence now; if they didn't find Frank soon…

Don't go there, Joe. Don't go there. You're going to find Frank and he's going to be okay and that's that.

They stepped out into the sound and sight filled hallway and Joe followed the security guard out of the wing of the mall they were in, into the main section. Joe knew they were near one of the mall's three or four candle shops; he smelled the very strong scents of pine, cinnamon and other scents from a front display in the store. He saw a large crowd ahead of him, gathered around the center area where Santa held court, waiting to talk to the long line of children who wanted to pass along their wish lists. Joe wanted to leap over the fences that led into Santa's workshop to beg the jolly elf to bring his brother back for Christmas.

I don't need anything else, Joe thought as he struggled not to break down. Just Frank. Now.

Joe caught sign of one of the elves, dressed in a green tights, a short green tunic and a jingle-bell laced green cap. She waved to him, winking, but he ignored her in favor of keeping up with the security guard. He fought his way past the lines of children and parents waiting somewhat patiently for their turn with Kris Kringle but finally made it past the crowd.

They walked down nearly to the other side of the mall to the main office area to the security office. Joe collapsed into an offered chair as the security guard took up the phone to call the Bayport Police department. Joe wanted to yank the phone out of the security guard's hands to demand help but he managed to keep things under control and calm, at least inwardly.

Stay calm, Joe thought. Stay calm. Keep it under control. That's what Frank needs right now.

Joe looked around the small office, fitted with two small, cheaply manufactured micro-density fiberboard desks and cheap looking plastic laminate over each. Each desk held one computer and a single phone and Joe wondered how come the security guys got what was basically a pit to work in while the rest of the mall was decked out to the nines and then some. Even the walls were austere; the only things on them were billboards with several flyers and notices tacked to them. Some were 'look out for' notices on shoplifters and thieves who had worked the mall before. Others were sets of rules the security guards were to follow when out in the mall itself and standard procedures for dealing with thieves, shoplifters and rowdies. He turned his gaze away as the guard hung up the phone.

"I spoke to Detective Riley," Victor said. "He's on his way. He asked you to please stay put until he gets here."

Joe nodded but pulled out his cell phone. He frowned when he saw he couldn't get a signal in here and he turned to Victor. "Can I use your phone to call my dad?" he asked.

The guard nodded and turned the phone around to face Joe. Joe dialed a familiar number and was grateful when his father answered immediately.

"Dad, this is Joe," Joe said as soon as his father piped up with a cheery hello. "We've got a major problem."

"What is it son?" Fenton Hardy asked. Joe relaxed under his father's mellow baritone tones and took a deep breath.

"I think Frank's been kidnapped," Joe said. "He called me earlier and said someone was following him. I… didn't take it seriously at first. We had a huge fight this morning and I wasn't in the mood to talk to him, I thought he was trying to fake me out. Then I realized he wouldn't, not that way and I called him back. He was supposed to go to Mr. Pizza, to hang out with Tony until I got there but he never made it."

Joe's father let out a loud breath and Joe felt his heart pick up speed again.

"I'm in Clover City," Fenton said after Joe finished explaining about the hunt and about the sedan that they thought Frank was carried off in. "It will take me at least an hour to get there. You stay put and give your statement to Con. I'm going to check the voice mail at home and see if we've gotten any demands yet. I don't want you going out to do anything stupid, Joe. Got it?"

Joe nodded then cleared his throat. "Got it Dad. No stupid stuff."

"Let me go. I'll call you when I'm almost there. Tell Con I'm on the way."

"I will," Joe agreed. "Hurry, okay?"

"Okay. Bye."

Joe hung the phone up and sat back in the uncomfortable plastic seat. Waiting was not his strong point and never had been. A man of action, he liked doing.

The security guard picked up the phone and made a few more phone calls while Joe fidgeted. He read the rules of conduct hanging on the billboard. He read the flyers. He was on his way to counting ceiling tiles when Con Riley walked into the room.

"Joe," he said grimly as he settled on the edge of the desk. "What happened?"

Once again, Joe Hardy explained.