Jury Duty
A Hardy Boys fanfic
By Time Guardian
Chapter 3
Fenton Hardy sat in his hotel room in Washington DC and pondered his meeting with his contacts. He had been working a specific angle on a case as a favor to an FBI friend who wanted low key assistance.
Judging by his contact's conditions for the meet he was going to this evening, it was leaving him a little more paranoid than he cared to admit.
Fenton sat on his bed, buttoning up the last of his buttons on his shirt when his cell phone trilled a familiar tune. It was one he had set to notify him if his wife or sons were trying to reach him. He also had an agreement with them that if he was off on what he called 'important' work, that he was only to be called in case of an emergency. With a muttered curse, he grabbed for his cell phone where he had laid it on the side table beside the bed.
He answered the phone and spoke quickly. "I leave for an informant meeting in five minutes. This had better be good."
Fenton heard a sigh. He had learned his son's mannerisms enough to know the owner of the sigh. "Joe, what's wrong?"
"Dad, it's complicated, and I know you are working on something of your own. The short of it is that Frank is in some serious trouble, and I need some information on somebody that was the subject of a federal trial about a year ago," Joe replied, his words coming out in a rush.
Fenton's breath caught. Despite his work as a police officer and private detective, despite having connections with at least half a dozen government agencies, he was a father first and foremost. "I can hop a plane and be back there tonight."
Joe was quick to cut him off. "No, dad, we've got it under control for now. I've got Vanessa, Chet, and Callie helping me right now, and we have uncovered quite a bit of information. There is one name we uncovered that I remembered hearing before because I remember you telling me about it before. It was a man, last name Bellamy?"
Fenton took a breath and quickly thought back to a year ago. That name was ringing warning bells for him. "Let's see, if I remember right, his name was Richard Bellamy. He was accused of racketeering and suspected of being part of a mafia. He's bad news, Joe. When the authorities caught up with him, he was planning to have the courthouse blown up where his trial was being held."
Time was running out if he was going to meet his informant on time. "Listen, Joe. I have to meet with my informant now. Just say the word and I will get back there ASAP, but promise me that you will keep me informed on an hourly basis."
"You know I will, dad. Take care and be careful."
"You too, Joe."
It went against every instinct he had, but Fenton reluctantly shut off his cell phone and grabbed for his jacket. If he hurried, he could just make it to the rendezvous point before his informant did.
--
Frank pondered his options, and realized that they didn't amount to much. The jury room he was in amounted to little more than an oversized conference room. There was an oblong table made out of some type of dark wood in the center supported by two large wooden legs on either end, surrounded by cushioned office chairs that looked like they had seen better days.
Over in the corner opposite from the door stood the storage lockers where the bailiffs secured the juror's belongings. Luckily enough the lock on the unit was standard enough to where he could pick it quickly and retrieve his phone. In the opposite corner was a table filled with bottled water and snacks.
Well, at least I know that I won't starve to death, he thought.
Checking his watch, Frank realized that only an hour had passed since he made the initial phone call to Joe. The sound quality of the room was quite good, considering the age of the building in general. What he wanted to do was find a way to find out more about this Bellamy character that was threatening the judge.
Let's see, we have a drop ceiling like the average industrial office building, there's the vent just above the storage lockers, hmm.
There was barely enough room for Frank to climb above the lockers to get an ear near the vent. If he was lucky enough, maybe he could hear what was going on from the courtroom and-
His thoughts were cut short when he heard a noise at the door leading out to the courtroom.
Frank froze in his tracks. He had barricaded the door as best he could with a few of the chairs that had been around the conference table, but he knew that wouldn't hold anyone for long if they were curious enough.
He looked around wildly, knowing full well that he needed an idea and fast. Great, what do I do now?
--
Another burst of inspiration, and I offer up a cliffhanger to boot. It's a short chapter, but I wanted to focus on Fenton's reaction to this mess, along with giving you a glimpse of the room Frank is in now.
~Hides behind rock~ I updated quickly this time because I had some free time, but things are getting busy job wise. I'll be back with a new chapter as soon as I can.
Edit: I apologize. I rushed this and I realize that now. I made a correction to an omission I made on the table description.
