Disclaimer: I do not own the Hardy Boys or any of the books. OCs are mine.

Thanks to my Editor: Wendylouwho10 who read over the story for me and made content suggestions, helped with the flow, and provided some spelling/grammar corrections. The corrections were a bonus and not required when I asked for her assistance, so I take full blame for any typos. Thanks Wendylouwho10 for making my story better!

Rating/Setting: Rating is T. Setting is AU. It is part of my story arc that begins with Frank and Joe in elementary school and progresses to this point where the boys are 18 and 16 with Joe turning 17 during this story. To understand this story, you need to read "Taken" definitely and "Recovery" would be highly recommended.

Author's Notes: Okay, so there's no Joe or Frank in this story, but it's vital to the rest of the story. ;-)


Chapter Eleven

Quebec City, Saturday morning…

It was 5:00 a.m. and Fenton couldn't sleep. Finally, he sat up in his bed and said, "I give up. I'm taking a shower." As he stood, he muttered about what it meant to be talking to yourself before the sun was up. After taking a hot shower and dressing, he sat at the desk in his hotel room with his computer. It was in the process of booting up with various screens coming to life. Fenton's thoughts were a little scattered. He moved to the small coffee maker that was in the room and put on a pot of coffee to brew. It wasn't even 6:00 a.m. and the hotel breakfast didn't start until then. He'd eat then and then head to the local police station where the investigation was being coordinated. But for now, he'd look over his notes and the evidence that had been gathered. Things weren't adding up and when things didn't make sense in some sort of fashion, it made Fenton nervous. Why the rash of sightings now? Everything pointed to Marilyn and Rachel being here. There were people who would swear that the photo of Marilyn matched a woman they had personally seen. But she had always been so careful. For her to suddenly disregard her carefully guarded whereabouts wasn't logical. He opened a file and scanned all the pictures that had been gathered so far. Somehow this woman has managed to not have her face clearly photographed without having on a scarf, a brimmed hat, or large sunglasses. It's almost as if she wants to be seen but not recognized. What would be gained by this? Why would she do this?

The coffee maker beeped and Fenton left the desk to get a cup. In his haste, he managed to spill some on his shirt. "I bet that's going to stain," he said out loud as he put down the cup and unbuttoned his shirt. After changing into another, he carefully took a few sips and was heading back to the computer when his cell phone rang. "Hardy."

"It's Gilroy. Come on down to the station, we have another sighting."

Fenton poured the coffee into the sink and closed up his laptop. "When? Where?" he asked as he loaded the machine into his bag.

"It was last night but we just found out this morning," Fenton stopped and grabbed his coat. Shrugging into it, he said, "Any chance she'll revisit the place today?"

"Unfortunately, no, but the clerk who was working last night and this morning said that the woman indicated she'd try to find the product at another store the next day. She had been looking for a certain kind of face cream and the store didn't have it. It was an unusual brand for the store and that's why the clerk remembered her so clearly."

As the room door closed behind Fenton, he asked, "Do any of the stores she's been to before carry the cream?"

"Yes, and we plan to stake out the two stores today."

"I want to be in on that."

Fenton could almost hear the smile in Chris Gilroy's voice as he responded, "Wouldn't dream of keeping you away."

Smiling himself, Fenton entered the elevator and punched the lobby level, "Glad to hear it. Do you fellas have any breakfast there by any chance?"

"Coffee and Danish."

"Perfect," Fenton replied. "I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

"See you then," Gilroy replied and hung up.

"Let this be the day," Fenton said to himself as the door to the elevator opened.

2:00 p.m.

Fenton drummed his fingers on the table where he sat. It was a pastry shop across from one of the stores that sells the face cream that Marilyn wanted. He'd been here for seven hours and he'd eaten a number of pastries and drank way too much coffee. His leg was bouncing under the table, much like Joe's did when he was agitated. He smiled. It was another trait that he shared with his son although it usually took coffee to bring it out in him where Joe just needed to be agitated.

The agent across from him was silent as he watched the opposite direction on the street. Fenton's thoughts turned to what had occurred since the sightings began. He still needed to figure out what was going on. So he began making a mental list about the events: attention was focused on Quebec City, more sightings of Marilyn, detailed interaction between Marilyn and clerk, he had been holed up in this pastry shop for the whole day. The words 'increased sightings' and 'whole day' ran through his mind several times. He was here and not at home. His chest tightened. He wasn't at home and his boys were on a survival campout where cell phone service wouldn't be good.

Fenton closed his laptop that was on the table. "I'll call for a replacement. I've got to go," he told the startled agent in front of him. Pulling his coat on and slinging the bag over his shoulder, he ignored the calls from the agent behind him. Fenton reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone and never broke stride on his way to the parking garage. Pressing the speed dial for Gilroy, he didn't even wait for the agent to say his name. "Chris. I've got a gut feeling. I'm going home. I think the sightings are a just a ruse to keep me away from my family."

"Why do you think that? Do you have anything to go on?"

"Just my gut and instincts as a father," Fenton said as he reached into his other pocket and rummaged around for the rental car's keys.

"You've got to have something to go on," Chris prodded further.

"It's just odd that suddenly we've had all these sighting but without a clear picture of the woman." Fenton could see the car now. "It's brought me here and my sons are off camping this weekend in an area where cell phone service is spotty."

"Fenton-" Gilroy began.

"I know," Fenton said before Gilroy could continue. "I'm not asking for you to send agents. I'm just calling to say that I'm going home to check on my sons. If this is a ploy to draw me away-" Fenton stopped speaking as he couldn't finish that sentence. "I'm at the car. I'll call you later when I know the boys are all right."

"Understood. I'll call you when we catch her," Gilroy replied.

"I hope you do, because that will mean she's far away from Joe." Fenton tossed his bag into the backseat and got in. He'd make some calls to check on flights on his way to grab his things from the hotel. If there wasn't a commercial flight to Wilkes-Barre, and he was afraid there wouldn't be, he'd charter a private plane. By the time he reached the hotel he had determined that a commercial flight wasn't going to work. There were no direct flight and most flights required more than one connection and would take him over six hours if everything was on time. He didn't have time for that. He had a private charter service hired and they would be ready to taxi in one and a half hours. He had plenty of time to grab his things and to contact Sam and Laura.

Once he was at the airport, he called Sam and gave him what he had. Sam had seen Fenton's gut reaction be on target more times than it was off target. He was going to go pick up Laura and the two of them would head to Wilkes-Barre together to Whitaker's State Park. If Fenton was lucky, he'd arrive at the park only an hour or so after Sam and Laura.

Fenton looked at the clock, the charter service told him they'd be ready in an hour. He drew a deep breath and called his wife. Laura hadn't argued at all but said that she'd contact the park service and see if they could check on the camp and she'd be ready to ride with Sam when he arrived. When Fenton hung up, he sat back in the cushioned chair that faced a large picture window that showcased the small planes that were available for charter. Usually, he found the scene to be comforting and interesting. Today, he could only think about the minutes slipping by. They were minutes he'd never get back. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back and prayed they weren't minutes he'd regret.

.**********.

When Laura hung up with Fenton, she immediately looked up the park number and asked for a ranger to go check on the campsite. After providing her number, she hurried to change her clothes and get her firearm. She was on the porch waiting when Sam drove up. They had been driving for about a quarter of an hour when the park service called back to say that the van was in the parking area and that the camp looked fine. There was nothing out of place but the boys weren't there. They had left a note asking the boys to check in at the ranger station when they returned. They counseled Laura that the boys had selected an area that had only one other camping group and it was in the opposite direction of their camp. She had thanked them for their assistance and hung up.

"I've got a bad feeling about this, Sam," Laura said as she stared unseeing at the road in front of her.

"Me too, Laura. Are you going to call Fenton?" he asked while looking out his side window as he merged onto a major highway.

Laura looked at her phone. It would only knot her up more inside if she called Fenton. "I'd told him I'd call when I knew something." Pressing the text button, she said, "I'll let him know we're on our way and that the rangers say the camp and the van look okay."

"I guess that's about all there is to say," Sam said as he set the cruise control for over the speed limit.

After sending the message, Laura looked over at Sam's phone that was sitting in the console. It had a mapping program up and it was showing their progress toward the park. We're still an hour and a half away. What will we find? Will we be in time? Heavens, I wish Fenton were here. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the headrest. Watching the map program would only serve to give her a headache.

About half an hour later, her phone buzzed indicating an incoming message. She read it and looked to Sam. "Fenton says they've just taken off. It will take him two hours to get to Wilkes-Barre. He'll call us when he has a vehicle."

Sam nodded and Laura closed her eyes after another look at the map program. They were still an hour away.

About an hour later they were only fifteen minutes from the park. Laura's phone buzzed and she looked at the screen. "Can you pull over Sam? I missed a call. Must be the spotty cell phone coverage in the area." As Sam pulled off into a gas station parking lot Laura accessed her voicemail. Her face went white as Sam looked at her in concern. Pulling her phone from her ear, she pressed the speakerphone button and Marilyn Laird's voice could be heard.

"…to have missed you. But maybe it's best this way. You're too far away to help them anyway." Her laugh was heard. "Sorry, I'm rambling. Let me get to the point. Find the map and you'll find your boys." The call ended.

"We need to call Fenton," Sam said. "Can he access your voicemail?"

Laura was having a tough time concentrating on Sam's words but she thought carefully. "No, but I can send it to him. Can you call him while I'm doing that?"

"Sure."

As Laura went through the process of forwarding the VM, she heard Fenton's voice as he discussed the situation with Sam.

"… continue on to the camp. No matter what, we'll need that map and that's where it has to be. She knows that's the first place we'll look." Fenton's voice was calm and assured.

"Right," Sam responded as he sat the phone in the console and pulled back onto the road.

"Laura's message has just come through. I'm going to listen to it and then we'll make a plan." Fenton paused. "Laura, are you okay?"

"No. I'll be okay when I have Frank and Joe with me. That's when I'll be okay." Her voice didn't waver although she felt sheer terror on the inside. She needed to put her anxiety aside if she was going to be any help to Sam.

Fenton listened to the message and they made a tentative plan as there wouldn't be cell service in the park. If they could, they'd call Fenton back after getting the map so that he'd have a direction as well. It all depended on how much time they felt they had once they had the map and where they had to go. Marilyn would feel that she had a good two hours before Laura or Sam could get to Whitaker's. That's how much time she would feel she had to do what she wanted to do without interference. She wouldn't be expecting them this early, and that was their best bet to get the boys back alive.

6:00 p.m.

Sam's car is going to need a new suspension, Laura thought as the car hit another pothole on the lightly used gravel road that they were on. An hour and a half before they had found the map that Marilyn had mentioned. It was laying right next to Joe's sleeping bag in his tent. After looking over the map, Sam had said it was going to take them between an hour and an hour and a half to get there and that would be speeding to a parking lot in the game lands and them jogging from that parking area to the place marked on the map. As they stood in the boys' campsite, she had told him to set the pace and she'd keep up. She was breathing heavy when they got back to the car and had to catch her breath before she could call Fenton. But then, she had to wait to get out of the park to get service again. When she had reached Fenton, she sent him a picture of the map. He would be landing in an hour. He wasn't going to alert the FBI until he was on the ground. The last thing they wanted was for the FBI to go in with guns blazing and he didn't want to be in the air and unable to do anything. Sam and Laura agreed.

Now she and Sam were almost at the parking area that was closest to the location marked on the map. Her mind returned to the bizarre message that Marilyn had left her. Why did she do it? Laura thought back to the magazine cover that Marilyn had sent Joe months ago. That 'message' wasn't just for Joe, it had been sent to manipulate the whole family. And who would be more upset about that kind of a message than me? The flowers, the text, each contact was meant for all of them. Each one saying, 'I'm going to take him from you and you can't stop me.' Marilyn has been toying with us for months and now she's poised to twist a knife in each of us. Laura closed her eyes for a moment as Sam hit a particularly bad pothole but then opened them as she played Marilyn's scenario in her head. Joe dies. Frank can't stop it and might even be there to witness it. Fenton is lured away and isn't there to save the son he promised to protect. And herself. Given clues to where her sons are but too far away to do anything to stop Marilyn. Laura clutched the handle over the window. If she succeeds… No. I won't let her. But the thought was there. If Marilyn were successful in killing Joe, it could destroy her family.

Finally they were at the parking area. The only other vehicle was an SUV. Sam looked inside and shook his head. Nothing was there. Surveying the lot, they could clearly see there were two trails that had been recently used leading away from the main road. After consulting the map, they decided that Sam would take the trail that most likely led to the top of the escarpment and Laura would take the trail that went to the bottom. She would try to find her way to the point that would be in the path from the boys' camp to the spot marked above the escarpment. Both of them felt that one or both of the boys were being forced to travel across the park and to the game lands as part of a hunt. Laura's blood ran cold at the thought. On the way to the parking lot, Laura had voiced her fear to Sam and he had concurred with her. Most likely it was Joe that was being hunted across the forest. And what could make him participate in a hunt? A threat to his brother. Both Sam and Laura checked their weapons and their cell phones. Laura's had no service and Sam's had one bar but when he pressed the call key, a dial tone didn't register. Each grabbed a flashlight from the trunk. They would be on their own, but both agreed that if either heard a gunshot, they'd head in that direction.

"Hopefully we'll find them before it gets dark," Laura said as each headed down their path. She would stop Marilyn's plan. She wouldn't let her family be destroyed. This is why she had gone back to the shooting range. This is what she was prepared to do. She'd protect her boys with her life.