Disclaimer: We do not own the Hardy Boys or any of the canon book characters, nor do we own the Sentinel or any of the canon television characters, and are making no monies from this story. Any Original Characters belong to the author(s). Co-written with Talefeathers of the HDA.

For those of you who are not familiar with The Sentinel's characters, we hope this will be a pleasant introduction to them for you. For those of you who are already acquainted with Blair, Jim, Simon and the others – enjoy! Trying to fit these four stories into two different story arcs [Hardy Boys and The Sentinel] just barely worked. Band of Brothers and Welcome to Cascade take place before September Song [Hardy universe] begins, and any time after The Perfect Partner [Sentinel universe]. Missing Persons happens right after Fanfare for June [Hardys]; A Matter of Public Record takes place any time between Death on the Fourth of July and February Flirtations [Hardys], and before Remodel and Rebuild [Sentinel].

This particular story was written in 2007. Technology does not match today's levels.

Missing Persons

A Hardy Boys/Sentinel Crossover Story

By EvergreenDreamweaver & Talefeathers

Chapter 7

Bruno Muscaletti hummed happily to himself as he made his way through the massive building known as Lincolnshire Tower. He was looking forward to the warm words of praise he was bound to receive when he showed Darius his prize. He shifted the weight on his shoulder carefully. Even Miss Bobbi would approve, he was sure of that. He hadn't had to dump this one in a car trunk, as he had that pesky private detective that had been trying to find Bobbi. Neither Darius nor Bobbi had seemed to be very happy about that fact – that he'd stuffed the investigator in a car trunk after smacking him over the head. In fact, Miss Bobbi had called it...what was it she'd called it? Ah, yes. Bruno smiled to himself. She'd said it was 'blatantly criminal.'

Bruno's smile turned a little dreamy as he contemplated Darius' beautiful girlfriend. She sure was pretty – and smart, too. Darius was lucky to have found her. And they both would be delighted that he had grabbed this kid who was slinking around and trying to find a way into the Tower; after all, he had heard Bobbi telling Darius about the two boys and how they'd been bothering her, asking questions. Trying to find the detective, apparently.

Darius wanted Miss Bobbi happy, and therefore Bruno wanted her happy, so anything that bothered her, he was pleased to remove. He frowned slightly. Except that she didn't seem awfully happy about him nabbing the detective in the first place. But she'd get over it, he was sure.

Bruno swung open the door and entered the large storage room where Darius and Bobbi were sitting with a broad smile on his face. His grand entrance, however, was spoiled when Bobbi shot to her feet and emitted a horrified shriek:

"BRUNO!"

"Yes, Miss Bobbi?" Confusion filled his voice. "What's wrong?"

"Bruno..." Bobbi fought for composure. Perhaps she was mistaken, and that wasn't another person slung over the bodyguard's shoulder. Or perhaps there was a perfectly logical explanation... "What do you have there?"

"It's one of those kids that was pestering you," Bruno explained, frowning. Wasn't it obvious? "I found him in the parking garage, slinking around, so I guess he must have followed you here. I didn't see the other one, but he's probably around too. I grabbed this one while I had the chance." He carefully eased Joe's limp body to the floor.

"You grabbed him?" Bobbi shouted. "You GRABBED him? Why in heaven's name would you do that, you...you...idiotic Neanderthal?"

Bruno looked from the incensed Bobbi to Darius, surprised to see the grim expression on his old friend's face and not the look of approval he had anticipated. "He was asking questions about you, and pestering you, Miss Bobbi," he reminded her. "Just like that detective guy." Sensing that this answer wasn't sufficient, he ventured, "I thought that's what you wanted. That's what we did last time."

"Last time! Last time was a mistake, you overfed, under-brained buffoon!" Bobbi screamed. She made an inarticulate sound of fury and disbelief, and then whirled on her still-silent boyfriend. "He's worse than a damned cat bringing home mice!" she hurled at Darius.

Darius tried to hide his smile at this accusation; it wouldn't do to let Bobbi realize he found the situation amusing, and he did realize that this was going to cause worse problems for them – but still... But Bobbi was sharp-eyed, and saw it despite his best efforts.

"You think this is FUNNY?" she screamed, focusing her formidable ire on her boyfriend. "Well, tell me what's so funny about having to keep two people tucked away and hidden – and now we've got two counts of kidnapping to face! There's barely enough room for the four of us down here, tomorrow's Monday and the building will be full of people, and we don't dare go back to the hotel, and now Bruno keeps dragging more helpless captives in? Just what are you planning on doing about this, Darius Sutherland? Tell me that!"

Rico, drawn by the sound of raised voices, left the room where he had been guarding Fenton and came in to see what all the ruckus was about. His eyes lit up in pleased appreciation when he saw the crumpled form lying at Bruno's feet. "Hey, you got us another one!"

"ARRRRRGGGGGHHH!" Bobbi clenched her fists and advanced on Darius. "They're YOUR friends," she yelled. "You take care of this!"

Darius thought quickly. "Okay," he announced. "Bobbi, you're right that we can't stay here any longer. We can't risk them being found. Bruno, you probably shouldn't have hit this kid and brought him in, but it's too late now; we're stuck with him." He pulled his wallet from his pocket and extracted a slip of paper and a key. "My cousin John said I could use a vacant rental house of his while I was here, if I needed to. I hadn't thought there'd be any need for it, but I guess it's a good thing after all. We'll go there. Rico, get Mr. Hardy blindfolded again and ready for transport. Bruno, take the kid and go with Rico – go out that back way into the underground parking. My car's there." He once again fished in his pocket and handed Rico a set of car keys with a rental agency tag. "Cuddles, let's get things picked up in here so no one knows we've been here."

Obediently the other two men moved to do as Darius requested; Bobbi silently began gathering up the detritus of their impromptu stay in the basement storage and physical plant areas of Lincolnshire Tower. But the girl's silence didn't last long.

"Darius," she said as she stuffed paper cups into a plastic bag, "why can't you just get rid of those two incompetent morons? You don't need bodyguards; you're a stockbroker! And they are causing more trouble than any of this is worth! I don't see why you brought them along out here anyhow!"

Sutherland sighed. "I know," he admitted. "But Rico and Bruno have been my friends since we were about six years old. They lived on the same block I did. We played together. They stuck up for me when some bigger kids hassled me at school. They grew up thinking that it was their job to look out for me – and now, you, by extension. I don't like it any better than you do, what they've done, and what they saddled us with – but I can't just abandon them, Cuddles; I just can't!"

"You're a big boy now, Dar – you can fight your own battles without those two!" she reminded him.

"Maybe so, honey, but they don't see it that way," he said, and refused to discuss it any further.

#####

Frank patiently waited for Joe to check in again. He was used to this, for Joe, more often than not, was the late arrival at their meetings. He always had a perfectly good excuse for it; it wasn't like he dawdled or forgot about the time – but it was just a bit – well, make that more than a bit – irritating at times. He looked at his watch and frowned. Ten minutes seemed a little excessive, even for Joe. Hope he didn't run into any trouble! He pulled out his cell phone and checked it, just in case he hadn't felt the vibration if Joe had called or text-messaged him. Nothing new. And surely Joe would have called him, if he'd discovered a way in, or clues to their father or Bobbi or the guy who was driving her around. Right?

Fifteen minutes. Frank wasn't irritated any more, he was worried. This wasn't like Joe at all; he took their sleuthing seriously. Pulling out his phone once more, Frank dialed Joe's cell number and waited tensely. C'mon, Joe, answer! ANSWER, damn it! But after a few rings it switched over to voicemail. Clenching his teeth, Frank snapped his phone shut and returned it to his pocket. Okay, little brother, time to do a little checking up on you in person! He set off for the other side of the massive building, wishing that Lincolnshire Tower wasn't quite so big. It was probably going to take him five to ten minutes just to get to where Joe had been positioned!

Joe had had the side where the underground parking garage entrance was located. This offered a whole lot more chance to spot their quarry – and a whole lot more chance to be spotted by someone as well. If it had been any other time than a Sunday evening in summer, Joe could have kept concealed more easily, hidden in the constant comings and goings of a busy downtown office building, but tonight he would have been in constant danger of exposure.

Frank reached the parking entrance and looked around, hoping to spot his brother. "Joe? Joe!" he hissed, and then repeated it, slightly louder: "Joe!"

There was no response to his urgent hail.

Throwing caution to the winds, Frank began searching in earnest, checking every possible spot where Joe might have concealed himself to keep watch and softly calling his brother's name at intervals.

After fifteen fruitless minutes he knew he had a very bad situation on his hands. Joe was absolutely nowhere to be found. Frank leaned against a wall and pulled his phone from his pocket once more. He tried dialing Joe's number, with the same result: voicemail. Okay, only one thing to do, I guess. With shaking fingers he dialed another number.

"Sandburg." The voice was so clipped and terse that for a moment Frank thought he'd misdialed and gotten Jim Ellison instead.

"Blair? It's Frank – I'm really sorry to bother you, but..." Frank had to stop and swallow the lump that was forming in his throat, and try to steady his voice.

"Frank? What is it?" The curtness was gone; Blair sounded nothing but concerned and reassuring now. "Is something wrong?"

"Yeah...you might say that. Blair...Joe's disappeared!"

"Where are you? Still at the Tower?"

"Yeah – p-parking garage. But I'll – your car is parked in front; I'll go there—"

"We're at the precinct. Hang on. We'll be there in ten minutes." The connection cut off, leaving Frank listening to dead air space and feeling as if he'd suddenly been caught up in a whirlwind.

###

It was less than ten minutes when Ellison's blue-and-white pickup rounded a corner and nosed into the parking space directly behind the Volvo. Frank was sitting in the driver's seat of the car, his head bent and resting on his fists, which were tightly clenched on the steering wheel.

Jim and Blair both jumped from the truck and approached the car; Jim tapped gently on the window. Frank started, and looked up, then opened the door.

"I'm sorry to pull you off your job—" he began guiltily, "but I didn't know what else to do!" He climbed out of the car, surprised when Ellison wrapped a comforting arm about his shoulders.

"You did the right thing," the big detective said gruffly. "We told you to call if you needed us."

Sandburg nodded agreement, and he patted Frank's arm, offering comfort as well. "Tell us what happened," he requested softly, and then added, "Wait. Let's sit down," and opened the Volvo's doors again. Jim ushered Frank into the back seat and slid in beside him; Blair took the front passenger seat and twisted about to face the other two men. "Now," he resumed, "what happened?"

Haltingly, Frank told them of the surveillance he and Joe had done, of their inability to break into the building – both police officers chuckled grimly at that, and Ellison muttered 'Good thing, too!' – and of the man who had been smoking on the street corner. How he and Joe had contacted each other via text-messages as scheduled, and then Joe had missed the next check-in time.

"Could he have followed someone, seen something, something like that?"

Frank shook his head at Ellison's question. "He would have let me know," he stated firmly. "I know you think we're just kids, and maybe Joe comes off as being careless sometimes, but he – he was taking this seriously. It's our dad, after all...We both know the drill..." His trembling voice trailed off.

"Take it easy," Jim murmured. "I didn't mean to imply Joe was careless or not taking it seriously." He smiled a little. "I've seen him work, remember? When the building went down, in Bayport and we were looking for you and Daryl and Sandburg?"

Frank glanced up briefly and nodded, smiling as well. "Yeah," he said softly. "I guess you do know. So you know that he wouldn't have just gone off without signaling me. And I know it was something that came on him without advance warning, because the same thing applies. He would have at least dialed my number and left the line open, if he didn't have time to talk!"

Jim opened the car door again. "I'm going to take a look," he announced. "Frank, why don't you stay here? We'll be back in just a few. Chief, let's go." He took two steps and turned back. "Lock the doors," he ordered.

Frank didn't have the heart to argue. He locked the car doors and watched dully as the two detectives made their way across the street and disappeared around the side of the large building, then laid his head back against the seat and closed his eyes wearily. Why had he and Joe ever thought they could successfully stake out a huge office building by themselves? Why hadn't they gone together to investigate the man standing and smoking on the corner? Why hadn't they simply stayed together in the first place?

Once out of Frank's sight, Jim and Blair slipped automatically into Sentinel-Guide mode: Blair lightly grasping Jim's arm with his left hand while holding his service weapon in his right – just in case. Ellison cocked his head slightly, jacking his hearing up a few notches, and his eyes widened as he scanned for any signs of the missing Joe, or clues to where he had gone. Then his nostrils flared, and he murmured. "Well, he was in here."

"What are you picking up?" Blair kept his voice soft, knowing the Sentinel had his senses wide open.

Ellison grinned tightly. "One of those turkey-tomato-Swiss cheese sandwiches you made, that's what. And it's not you or me; we ate ours hours ago." He sniffed carefully. "And cigarette smoke. Fresh smoke, not stale."

"Can you follow it?" Blair asked excitedly. "Either one?"

"They're together," the Sentinel grunted. "And I'm going to assume Joe wasn't smoking!"

Slowly and carefully they moved across the cement flooring, Ellison concentrating on scent now to the exclusion of his other senses, so much so that Blair had to watch to make sure his partner didn't walk into something – such as a concrete pillar. The trail led them to a door – the door which opened onto the stairs.

"Damn." Blair holstered his revolver, tried the door and growled when it refused to budge. "Locked." He glanced up at Jim. "Got that handy-dandy electronic lock pick thing with you?"

Ellison shook his head. "No." He examined the door carefully. "And I don't know if it would work on this lock anyway. It may be dead-bolted on the other side, for all we know."

"We've got to get into the building, Jim! We know he was taken in there!"

Jim nodded, but shrugged a little. "And how do we convince anyone of that? Tell 'em I smelled him?"

Blair chuckled grimly. "We are so not going there, man."

"We can't get in until tomorrow," Jim pointed out, "And then the scent will be gone, overwhelmed by all the people coming and going. Damn! I wish we hadn't had to leave those kids on their own tonight!"

"We didn't have a choice," Sandburg reminded him. They began to slowly retrace their steps to the car where Frank waited. "We really shouldn't be here now, man; we've got stuff to do..."

"I'm going to tell Simon what's going on," Ellison decided abruptly. "It's getting to the point where we need to take notice of it officially. And once he knows that one of the Hardy kids is missing, as well as their father...well, someone else will probably get switched over to that case we started working tonight. Simon has a real soft spot for those kids."

"As if you don't?" Blair teased gently. "And as if I don't?" he added with a sigh. "Legally, we can't get involved until Joe's been missing longer," he reminded his partner. "And he's 18 now, not a minor any more...although I suppose the kidnapping angle..."

"That won't matter – Simon won't stop us from investigating. Damnit, I feel guilty, Chief; like I let 'em down somehow."

"I know. Me too. But what could we have done differently?"

"Split up and one of us stayed with them?"

"Jim, we were called out on a case. That took priority – and they were good with that, man; they were!" Blair shook the taller man's arm. "They understood; you know they did."

"I know that, buddy, but it doesn't make me feel any less guilty about it."

Blair scowled down at the pavement as he walked. "Jim – one good thing," he observed.

"What's that?"

"No blood."

Frank was watching for their return; he unlocked the doors and got out of the Volvo as the two detectives crossed the street. "Anything?" he demanded eagerly.

"We're pretty sure he was taken out of the parking garage up the stairs," Jim said, carefully omitting just how he had obtained that information. "But the stair door is locked."

Frank sagged back against the car, his face clearly showing his disappointment. "What happens how?" he asked. "Do we just...leave? Oh heck, you've got to get back to work, don't you?"

"I'm going to go back for a little while," Jim conceded, "But Blair's going to stay with you and go back to the loft." He stared meaningfully at his partner, smiling at Sandburg's wide-eyed look of surprise. "And I'll be along shortly. I'm going to have a few words with Simon about this – see if he'll let another team handle our case and pull Sandburg and me off."

"Jim, I...we didn't..." Frank heaved a tired sigh. "You shouldn't do that, and I know it – but I can't say I don't appreciate the offer. I just...I'm running out of ideas, here."

Blair slid into the driver's seat and took the keys Frank handed him. "See you at home, partner," he murmured to Ellison as he waited for Frank to get back in the car.

Jim gripped his shoulder briefly through the open window. "Later, Chief." He strode away towards his truck as Blair started the Volvo.

They had driven perhaps halfway back to the loft, both men maintaining a grim silence, when suddenly Frank groaned and put his hands over his face.

"What's wrong?" Startled, Blair nearly swerved into another lane. "Frank, man, what is it?"

"I just realized..." The words were muffled by Frank's hands. "I'm going to have to..."

"You're going to have to...?" Blair encouraged gently.

"I have to...call...Mom..."