Kacey Arnold is your wife?" Joe asked.

Kenneth nodded. "Arnold is her maiden name as well as her pen name. She kept it when we got married because she was already using it when writing for the Tribune."

"Why do you think that she might have information to lead us to our cousin?" Frank asked.

"You mean the warden didn't tell you? She interviewed Rich Herringbone on several occasions."

Joe looked excited for just an instant before the feeling disappeared. "Unfortunately, Mr. Clarke, experience has shown us that the chances of Herringbone having told your wife about a pre-meditated kidnapping are slim to none."

"But surely he may have told her something about where he used to live, the town he was born in or where he grew up. Perhaps he took your cousin to one of those places." Kenneth suggested.

Frank shook his head. "The police already have all of that information and are checking into those leads now. Joe's right. It's unlikely that Kacey knows anything."

Kenneth stared at them with a look of frustration. He then turned his back to them and folded his arms. "Well aren't you going to at least ask her what she found out in the interview? I thought detectives always follow up on any leads they are given."

Frank and Joe glanced at each other quizzically, each thinking the same thought. "Mr. Clarke, excuse us for prying, but you seem a little too interested in tracking down this Herringbone yourself." Frank suggested.

"Yes, and when his name came up during questioning, you did get rather upset." Joe reminded him.

The stern look faded from Kenneth's face and he shoved his hands into his pants pocket. He paced around the room a bit before turning back to the boys. Taking a deep breath, he began.

"Your instincts haven't lied to you. I didn't exactly give the police all of the information I have." As Joe and Frank perked up, Kenneth began to tell the rest of his story. "I went to work at Fishkill to pay off my debts. That part is true enough. But I could have had a dozen jobs in New York City that would have probably paid more. About four weeks before I went to work at the prison, Kacey began to make coming home at 2 and 3 a.m. a nightly habit. This was the same person who had, up until that point, always insisted that she was out of the office by 6."

"Go on." Frank prompted him.

"She explained that it was because of this documentary she was working on. As you can imagine we ended up having a huge fight over it. I couldn't see a news report taking up that much time. I began to suspect an affair. So one morning when she left, I followed her. I was relieved that she actually went to the prison. I sat outside in a friend's car all day that day, waiting to see when she would come out. She finally emerged at 9:00 p.m."

"That must be some story. It certainly sounds like she's putting enough time into it." Joe replied.

"That's what I thought, too." Kenneth confirmed. "She explained that she was writing an article each day about a different prisoner. I'm normally not much of a reader but I decided that these must be some great articles that she is putting out, as much time as she spent doing interviews. So one day I grabbed a copy of the paper to take a look at her current article. It was on spring fashion trends."

There was a pause before Joe asked, "What is a prisoner going to know-or say-about spring fashion trends?"

"About as much as one would know about the best Broadway musicals-or the best caterers to choose from in New York-or the most popular museums to visit. She wasn't writing about prisoners, her articles covered entertainment and culture!"

"What did you do, Mr. Clarke?" Frank asked.

"First, I called the editor of the newspaper. He confirmed that Kacey had been assigned to write a piece about the prisoners, but that the story was printed weeks before. He also mentioned how much he missed her since she had gone to part-time work."

Frank was beginning to catch on. "So you found it really strange that a part-time worker had a ten to fifteen hour shift every day."

"Exactly." Kenneth replied. "When Kacey got home that night, I asked her about her work. She described her workday as usual, one full of prison interviews and long commutes. That confirmed that something was up, but I just went along with everything that night. The next two days, I borrowed my buddy's car again and followed her. Both days she did go to the prison where she remained the entire days. It was during the time in the car those days that I came up with a plan to work at the prison in order to find out for myself why she was there."

"Weren't you concerned that she would find out that you were there?" Frank asked.

Kenneth nodded his head. "Concerned that she would see me there yes, but I wasn't concerned that she would realize my own long hours away from home. She was spending far too much time on her own interests to keep up with me. Too make a long story short, I got the job at the prison in video surveillance, watched my wife's every move while she was there, and noticed she was spending an awful lot of time with Herringbone-and enough interaction between them to realize a relationship had developed. When I confronted Herringbone about her one day, he didn't realize who I was, and began telling me that they had developed feelings for one another."

Kenneth hung his head. "It's hard for me to believe that Kacey would be an accomplice to a kidnapping, but the more I think about it, the more suspicious it seems." He looked back up at the boys. "She kicked me out of our apartment on Dogwood Circle in New York just 3 days before Herringbone escaped. It looks as if she knew what was going to happen. I love my wife, but I'm afraid that if I give too much information to the authorities, they might have her arrested, but at the same time I'm too afraid for her safety to just let things play out without stepping in."

Joe looked over at Frank. A confirming glance was Frank's agreement to share further evidence with Kenneth. Joe took a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and showed it to Clarke. "Mr. Clarke, does this mean anything to you?"

Kenneth stared at the sketch of the Oakley boot print. "Looks like an Oakley. Pretty popular brand of boot. I know a lot of people who have them."

"Including your wife?" Joe prompted.

"Yes, I remember spending an entire day in the city looking for her boots. Not many retailers carry her size, a five."

The statement immediately dismissed the footprint as having belonged to Kacey. Joe then produced the second piece of evidence-the keycard.

They didn't have to ask any questions. Kenneth's face immediately fell when he saw it. "Where did you get this?" He asked.

"Why don't you tell us what this key unlocks first?" Frank suggested, the look on Kenneth's face all too clear that he recognized the card.

"It looks just like the one that unlocks my apartment-the one in New York."

Fenton Hardy, having finished his talk with the Chief arrived home to find an argument going on. "I won't let you do it!" Gertrude insisted.

"What's going on?" Fenton asked, almost bumping his sister with the door. Albert and Gertrude wore matching expressions of anger, Gertrude standing just in front of the door while Albert stood with his coat on, waiting for her to move out of his way.

"Fenton, I've been hiding for seventeen years, for the sole purpose of protecting myself and my daughter. Now my daughter..."

"OUR daughter." Gertrude emphasized.

Albert glanced at her before continuing. "...is in danger, and it is obvious that until I come out of hiding and face Herringbone, she is going to stay in danger."

With that Albert attempted to wind his way around Gertrude once again before being stopped by Fenton this time. "Albert, we will find her. Just give us a little more time. It's not going to do the boys and me any good to have to look for you too, or worse yet, for you to end up dead. If that happens, Herringbone will have no reason not to kill Michelle too.

Albert absorbed this new information before throwing his hands up in the air. "I'm sorry but it is so frustrating to just sit around and do nothing!" With that he sat down on the sofa and rubbed his face with his hands. As Gertrude sat down to console him the telephone rang. Fenton picked it up.

"Dad! I'm glad you're home. I think we may have a significant lead." Fenton listened with interest as Frank relayed all the information to him that had been exchanged in their conversation with Clarke. "Kenneth is going to the apartment with me and Joe now." He finished.

"Not alone. If what Clarke is saying is true then there is a very real possibility that Herringbone- and Michelle- may be there. Where are you now?...Okay just sit tight, I'll meet you in 5 minutes."

"What's happening?" Albert insisted as the conversation ended. Fenton brought Michelle's parents up to date and explained their next move. "I'm coming with you." Albert announced.

"Considering that Michelle may be there, that might not be a bad idea." Fenton confirmed. As she watched her brother and her husband rush out the door, Gertrude folded her hands in silent hope.

The drive to New York City had afforded everyone enough time to be clear on the details. Once they arrived at Dogwood Circle, the plan went into place. They had decided that the best way to gain access to the apartment was for Kenneth to make Kacey believe that he was there to reconcile with her. Albert and Fenton were staying behind in the van to listen to the events through the hidden microphone under Kenneth's shirt, while Frank and Joe stood nearby with a two-way radio to their Dad, ready to come to Kenneth's aide if needed.

"Okay, he's ringing the doorbell." Fenton relayed to his sons as he listened to the sounds from Kenneth's microphone. After a few moments of silence, Kenneth knocked on the door. Fenton and Albert heard what sounded like a muffled struggle. "Kacey?" Kenneth yelled. Fenton and Albert listened as it sounded like Kenneth was trying to break down the door.

"Boys, you may want to get in there and see what's going on." Fenton instructed them. He watched as Frank and Joe rushed for the main entrance to the apartments, all the time listening as Kenneth continued to bash the door.

"What's going on?" Fenton heard Frank ask as they neared Kenneth.

"Listen." Kenneth replied. Fenton couldn't make out what they were hearing but he decided it must be significant when Frank and Joe joined Kenneth in breaking down the door.

"What's happening boys?" Fenton asked into the two-way radio, panic seeping into his voice.

His only response was the sound of the door giving way. "This place is a disaster." He heard Kenneth say. "Watch out, all the furniture has been turned over."

Fenton and Albert listened to the sounds of breaking glass and crumpling paper as the trio was obviously walking through a mess. They then heard the sound of an interior door being opened.

"Boys, answer me!" Fenton insisted.

The only response Fenton got was a gasp, followed by a gunshot.

But the last thing he heard was the most chilling of all.

It was Joe, screaming Frank's name.