Upon hearing his youngest son, Fenton wasted no time abandoning the van. He quickly entered the building with Albert on his heels and was at the door of the apartment in no time.

"Frank? Joe?" Fenton called, panic in his voice.

"Back here, Dad." Joe responded from a rear door.

Fenton and Albert snaked around the overturned furniture and made their way to the back room. Once they arrived, they found Frank sprawled on the floor with Joe bent over him.

"Frank!" Fenton exclaimed, bending down next to Joe and whipping out his cell phone. He was on the verge of calling 911 when Frank reached up and placed his hand over the phone.

"I'm okay, Dad." He announced, showing Fenton his torn shirt and scraped arm where the bullet grazed him.

"Are you sure?" Fenton asked, hugging his son in relief. "But who…."

He trailed off as he looked over and noticed a woman in the corner who was broken down in tears. Battered and bruised, she sat on the floor with a gun to her side as Kenneth untied the rope that bound her feet.

"Dad that is Kacey Arnold." Joe said, jutting a chin toward her.

"I'm so sorry." Kacey wept as her feet were finally untied. "I didn't mean too, I was so scared. I thought…..I thought he was coming back."

Fenton would have liked to give the woman a chance to calm down but knew that they couldn't afford the luxury. "Ma'am? Who did this to you?"

"My boyf-" she began then paused, looking at Kenneth. "A man named Rich Herringbone. He was a prisoner I had interviewed at Fishkill Correctional Facility. He had recently escaped and came here…."

"Do you know anything about Michelle Ingraham?" Fenton interrupted, a growing dread telling him that time was of the essence.

"She was just here. Rich, he took her with him." Kacey wept.

Frank and Joe were anxious to hear the whole story, but it would have to wait. "Where were they going?" Frank asked.

"I don't know." Kacey replied. "I wish I did, but I don't. He couldn't have gotten far, though. Michelle was very weak and could barely walk as it was."

"What kind of car did he drive?" Fenton pressed as Albert felt his jaw involuntarily clench.

"He didn't drive a car. He was using cabs." Kacey wailed.

"Perhaps he took your car?" Joe suggested.

Kacey shook her head. "I have a van, but it's in the shop."

Fenton quickly assessed the situation. "Frank, you're hurt. Stay here and get more information from Mrs. Arnold. Joe and I will try to find out what has happened to Michelle. Albert, stay with Frank."

"No Fenton, I am going with you." Albert sternly replied.

"It could get dangerous." Fenton stated quickly.

"Fenton, that's my daughter out there, and it's already dangerous."

Fenton didn't have time to argue. "Just keep your head." He commanded as he dashed out of the apartment with Joe and Albert on his heels. He steered the trio down the hallway when a lady sprinted out of a neighboring apartment and grabbed him! Instinctively, all three went into a protective stance.

"Oh thank goodness. Are you the policeman?" She asked, making assumption of Fenton in his suit and tie.

"No, ma'am. Now if you'll excuse me…" Fenton began.

"Please stay with me until they get here." She pleaded, holding fast to Fenton's jacket. "This awful man just burst into my apartment and stole my Persian rug right off the floor. I'm afraid he'll come back"

Fenton tried to pull away and quickly explain that he had more pressing matters when his cell phone rang. "What now?" Fenton complained whipping the phone out.

"Hardy? Meadows here." Detective Meadows explained. "I have some odd information for you that seems unrelated to the case, but I thought it might be worth mentioning. We just got two separate reports from Dogwood Circle of theft. One was a Persian rug and the second was for a red sedan."

Fenton's eyes lit up. "Meadows, I'll have to explain the details later, but there's a good chance Michelle could be in that sedan. Please put out an APB for it."

"As we speak." Meadows replied. "I'll go out on patrol myself. Good luck, Fenton, and please be careful."

"Thanks." Fenton replied, hanging up. He glanced at Joe and Albert. A familiar sickening feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. He knew that the events over the next hour, while could simply be a continuation of the search, would most likely end in either victory or tragedy.

Soon the trio arrived outside, making their way toward the van. As they neared it, they saw two women consoling a teenage girl.

"Now, now. It's going to be okay." One woman said.

"But I worked all summer to earn the money for that car." The girl wept. "I flipped thousands of burgers, and for what?"

"Excuse me." Joe cut in. "But are you the one that reported the stolen car?"

"Yes." The girl babbled on, telling her story to any sympathetic ear. "I had just returned from the market and was taking some groceries in that my mother had asked I pick up. The market took longer than I expected, making me late for work. I left the car running so that I could just dash outside after I dropped off the groceries and be on my way to work. But when I got outside, a man was driving away in my car."

"Did he have a young woman with him?" Albert asked.

The girl shook her head. "He was the only one in the car."

Fenton was confused when one of the women spoke up. "I'm sure you'll get your car back in one piece, Heather. He probably just wanted to use it to get away with Mrs. Henderson's Persian Rug."

"Persian rug?" Joe pressed.

"Yes. I was standing here in the front yard waiting for my daughter to drop off my grandson. I saw the whole thing." The woman continued. "The man came out carrying a huge rolled up rug. It must have been heavy because he really struggled when he put it in the trunk. Of course, I hadn't ever met Heather until a few moments ago, so I did know it wasn't the man's car until after he'd left and she came back outside and started looking for it."

"Thank you." Joe shouted back as the trio climbed into the van, leaving the dazed women wondering why apparent bystanders were so interested in the theft.

"In the rug." Albert mused as Joe steered the van sharply onto the street.

"He rolled her up in the rug didn't he?"

"It would seem that way." Fenton replied as he dialed Meadows' number.

"She couldn't even walk, and it would be too obvious to carry her out thrown over his shoulder. That's why he stole the rug."

Fenton knew he was probably right but attempted to console Albert. "Don't jump to conclusions. He kidnapped Michelle and he wasn't going to take the chance of anyone seeing her. He could have simply made her hide inside the rug."

"I hope you're right." Albert replied.

"Meadows? Fenton Hardy." Fenton spoke into the phone. "Any word on that sedan yet?"

"It's only been five minutes, Fenton." Detective Meadows replied. "But we have several officers on patrol, including myself."

"Can you give me the license plate number and a description of the car?" Fenton asked. He then took a pen out of the console and began to jot down information. "Please let us know if you hear anything." He said before hanging up again.

"Which way should we go, Dad?" Joe asked.

"Because Herringbone kidnapped Michelle from right in front of our house, it's obvious he knows where we live, and from what had just taken place, it's safe to assume that he knows that we know what is going on. I'm sure he has already concluded that Albert has been in contact with us as well. Since things are starting to get hairy for him, and since his goal is Albert, I would say to get on the interstate and head home. I could be wrong, but if I'm right, there's your mother and Aunt Gertrude to think about."

As Joe guided his van to the interstate and made his way onto the ramp, Fenton dialed the Bayport Police Department. He gave Chief Collig an overview of the unfolding events and asked that he send some officers over to the house.

No sooner had he hung up than the phone rang again. It was Detective Meadows.

"Hardy, great news. The car has been spotted."

"Where?" Fenton asked anxiously."

"On I-87, headed toward Bayport, near exit 53."

"They're near 53." Fenton relayed to the others.

"That's about 10 miles ahead of us." Joe said.

Meadows overheard Joe. "Fenton, I know there's no point in stopping you, but if you see them, keep a respectable distance, at least until we know what our next course of action will be."

Fenton hung up without responding. He looked first at an anxious Albert, and then at his son. He then looked at Joe's right foot.

"I can't go much faster, Dad." Joe replied. Fenton looked at the speedometer and was surprised to see that the speedometer was already hovering just past a hundred miles per hour.

"Keep it up." Fenton ordered.

Joe allowed himself a slight smile. The race was on!