Note: Thank you to SnowPrincess88, TinDog, EvergreenDreamweaver, hlahabibty, Hero76, max2013, Red Hardy, Caranath, ulstergirl, Guest, and hbndgirl for your reviews since the last chapter. You've all made me smile and I sincerely appreciate you all and everyone who takes the time to review, especially, but also to read and follow. Almost to the halfway point of the story!

The Secret Spaces

Chapter 13

Joe rubbed his temples and tried to concentrate on the file in front of him. There were countless names; it would take forever to get background info on all of them, and time was not on his side.

"Joe?" One of the Bayport officers approached him, a somber look on his face.

He stood up."Is Collig okay?" Joe asked, concerned.

The young officer nodded. "He is. We wanted to update you about another breaking development. It concerns your father."

Joe felt his face drain of color. "What's the matter with my dad? Where is he?" He fought back the sinking feeling in his gut.

Officer Merkel met his eyes. Over the years, they'd gotten along well and had become friends, being close to the same age and of very similar temperament in terms of loving to party while still taking their jobs seriously. He'd even attended Joe and Vanessa's wedding, and Joe knew he would give him any news straight and without superfluity. "Pat," Joe begged. "Come on. What do I need to know?"

Pat Merkel looked down before meeting his friend's eyes. "Joe, your dad is missing."

"What?" Joe cried, dumbfounded. "Frank told me this morning he was with a few FBI officers and they were checking some GPS info from Van's phone. How-"

"That's true," Pat answered. "This is what we know. Your dad was with FBI agents Smith and Clara. They located the cell phone belonging to Vanessa at an abandoned fire house in Fishkill, about an hour and a half from here. About 20 minutes ago, we received a call from Special Agent Smith. He had just regained consciousness. His gun is missing. So is Special Agent Clara and your father. At this point, we just deployed two patrols from the State Police and another two from the FBI to go to the firehouse."

Joe closed his eyes and took a deep breath before talking. "How the hell did my dad and an FBI agent disappear?" he questioned. "Was anything left behind?"

Pat nodded. "Yes," he said slowly. "Vanessa's cell phone was left. She wasn't there. Anything else, we don't know yet. Joe, I promise, man, to keep you informed. You know you can always call me. Anything you need."

Joe tried to think.

"Call Frank, buddy," he went on. "You need him here. Want me to make the call?"

"I don't even know where he is," Joe said slowly. "We had a bit of a blowout earlier. I'll text him."

Pat nodded. "Let me know if you don't get him. I don't know what's going on, but my advice would be to keep in touch with your family at all times. We already sent patrols to your mom's house."

His mom? Why hadn't he thought of that?

Pat gave him a quick squeeze on his arm. "We're trying to cover anything that you can't physically get to. We WILL find Vanessa. But we need the Hardy brains now to help us. Concentrate, Joe. Technology can do a lot, but we need to know what we're looking for. Hang in there, buddy."

With a final reassuring smile, he turned and left.

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He couldn't think; not yet. He texted his brother. "Dad missing. FBI agent down; another missing. CALL ME."

Literally the second he hit the send button, his phone started ringing. "That was fast," he muttered.

"Hey-" he began, and was surprised when it was his best friend, Biff Hooper, on the line, and not his brother.

"Hey, man," Biff said. "How you holding up?"

Joe tried to breathe evenly. "Not great," he answered honestly. "Dad's missing now."

"What?!" Biff asked, incredulous.

"I know," Joe answered. It was strangely comforting to hear from Biff in the absence of his brother, his father, Vanessa, or Callie.

Biff was silent for a minute. "Joe," he began, "I'm calling for two reasons. One, you know I'm here to help. I'm not the brightest guy, but I'm pretty good at kicking ass." Joe snickered in spite of himself. That was one of the more self-actualized statements he had ever heard, and he was grateful for his friend's unwavering loyalty.

"You're not always an idiot," Joe managed.

"Neither are you," Biff quipped back and Joe laughed in spite of himself.

"Touche."

"Listen, there's another reason. I'm not sure if this means anything, but I think you should know," Biff went on, and Joe's senses were immediately heightened.

"What's going on?" he asked, alert.

Biff hesitated. "This morning I got a package on my doorstep. I didn't think anything of it, really. I opened it up and there was a TV magazine with the cast of Criminal Hunters on it. I saw Johnny in the center and I knew it right away."

Joe inhaled deeply. "Was anything else in the package?" he asked.

"No," Biff replied."Nothing. The weird thing is-"

"There's a weirder thing than that?" Joe asked warily.

"Yeah," Biff replied. "Prito and Morton got the same damn thing. They didn't want to bother you or Frank, with everything going on. And I mean- well, it's just a magazine."

Joe's mind went into overdrive. "No one else? Phil? Liz? Anyone?"

"Nope- I already checked that."

"Okay- listen. I'm in Manhattan. I'm going to call over to the Bayport PD. Collig is here, but I know the second in command. I'm going to see if we can get an officer over there and to Chet's and Tony's- to pick up the magazines. I'm going to assume you never got smart and put security cameras in front of your apartment, right?"

Biff laughed. "Remember, I'm the idiot most of the time."

Joe managed a small smile. "You did the right thing, Biff. Thanks for letting me know."

"Call me- seriously- if you need any help at all. I'm here for you, bro. We all are."

Joe nodded and fought back tears again. "I know, man. Thanks."

He hung up.

Immediately, he texted Pat, who promised to get in touch with the Bayport PD. He texted his mom and told her to be careful. And then, despite the absence of his brother, he sat down and started to think.

He flipped through the files and started scribbling anything he could think of that provided new information, even if he had no idea what, if any, was important.

Why was agent 1 taken but not the other? Where is dad?

Name of screenwriters and editors?

Get FBI to look into fire that supposedly killed Cotnig. Was he the only one who was presumed dead? Circumstances of fire?

Collig Grate

Frank's Bayport idea

Magazine- WTH?! Tony, Biff, Chet- today

Criminal Hunters

People murdered- woods; dehydrated; shot.

That last one gnawed at him.

He stared at the list, so consumed with his thoughts that he barely noticed that Frank had not written back. Two hours passed. He looked down at his phone, noting the "message not delivered" sign flashing.

"Great," he muttered. Where the hell was Frank? He wouldn't have gone to the wooded areas of Bayport alone, would he? WOULD HE? All of a sudden, he knew it was true. Frank's recklessness and hopelessness from this morning should have told him that he would have done something stupid like that. It would certainly explain the message not being delivered. Frank's acting like he normally would have was really shaking him up. Why was Frank the one blindly chasing some unlikely idea and he was the one who was scrutinizing reports? The world felt upside down.

He was mad at himself for not realizing it earlier. He called Pat, told him to call over to the Bayport PD again, and asked him for a ride back to Bayport. Something was really off here. He fought back panic. How he could handle this alone? He didn't have his dad or Vanessa there. He couldn't call Callie. Biff, well intentioned though he was, as well as Tony or Chet, wouldn't be of much use here. He never felt so alone.

"Get it together, Hardy," he chastised himself. "You need to do this." It was getting later-4:00. They'd be back to Bayport by 6:00, and it would start to get dark by then. Plus, as if Mother Nature was against him, tomorrow night a blizzard- in MARCH- was supposed to hit.

As he waited for Pat, he looked at the list again. And then, clear as day, he started to see it.

"Oh my god," he whispered.

1. Chet, Biff, and Tony were not important, but Anthony, Biff, and Chet WERE= ABC

2. Ezra Collig= Electric Current

3. Fenton Hardy=Fire House; Fishkill

4. Callie's cell= Chelsea

5. And, above all, Criminal Hunters=Collig and Hardy

At once, he realized he was dealing with a madman, but a brilliant one. This man was all about patterns, secret spaces in between the lines. The murder of innocent people; the kidnapping of his dad, Van, Cal, and Johnny; they were all orchestrated together- must have been in the works for years as he waited for the perfect opportunity of the show to carry it all out. And all of this- all of it- to get back at Ezra Collig and Fenton Hardy, to torture his father by destroying his family. There were more pieces missing, but he had started to put them together, and he would figure them out.

Joe suddenly felt a calmness descend over him. Okay- this guy liked games, but so did he. And he was good at them; rarely ever lost. And he didn't plan on starting now.

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Callie sat down and closed her eyes, snuggled against Johnny for warmth, but it wasn't helping at all. They were sharing one jacket, though he insisted on her wearing it most of the time.

Callie fought back tears. She hated being weak like this. Her entire life, she had always worked out and been in good shape. In college, she had started self-defense courses, and, in the years after, she continued to run, work out 5 days a week, and take yoga. It was fun staying physically active, and she and Frank had found yet another thing in common that they loved, often going on runs or hikes together. When she had first gotten pregnant, she had been lucky that she didn't really suffer from terrible morning sickness. Really, through the fifth month, she'd been able to stay pretty active.

At that time, though, she had started feeling very weak; had gone to the hospital because she had started spotting a lot. She and Frank both had been nervous wrecks. Finally, she was diagnosed with anemia and with Placenta Previa, which essentially meant that it was vital for her to take prenatal vitamins, to take extra iron, and to cut way back on activity, including work, which was why she was going out with still eight weeks left to go in her pregnancy. It also meant that she would probably have to have a c-section, and that she very well might be put on bed rest. But that she could deal with all of that, as long as her baby was going to be okay. That, she knew, was a major part of the reason that Frank was always so worried about her.

But since she had been taken with Johnny and Vanessa, it couldn't have been worse timing. She was incredibly weak, malnourished, and dehydrated. She was horrified that she was starting to spot again, and she was exhausted and so cold; plus, the constant walking was taking its toll on her.

She wiped back a tear. Someone had thrown her into a van, punched her, kicked her violently- she had never been treated so badly, and she still felt the awful pain in her knee and back. Plus, she had been trying hard to ignore it, but she had begun to feel cramping in her lower back and stomach and had prayed that it wasn't the start of labor. She hadn't told Johnny; but she knew. And it was killing her. It was too soon.

She literally didn't think she could make it much longer.

"You okay, honey?" Johnny asked.

She felt another cramp come on and held her breath, body tensing automatically in pain. She squeezed Johnny's hand tightly as the contraction passed. Before she could answer, another, more powerful pain ripped through her, and she reached for her lower back, unable to stop a cry from escaping her lips. Good god- what was she going to do?!

She saw Johnny's eyes go wide. "Oh, no. No no no," he whispered to her. "The baby?"

Callie just nodded as she caught her breath. She needed help desperately. She needed Frank with her. Above all, she realized, she needed a miracle. She might die, probably was going to die, but not her baby. No- not her baby. Life couldn't be that cruel.

She heard Johnny suck in his breath. He kissed her forehead. "I made you a promise," he said as he held her closer. "I told you that you'd be okay. I'm going to get you help, honey. Let me think of what to do. Just- hold on, okay? Please-Hold on."

Callie, exhausted and in terrible pain, just buried her face against his chest and cried.

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Vanessa carried on. Almost two long, unbearable days of aimless wandering. She was hungry; she didn't think she could have been colder. Her body ached. And as horrible as the days had been, the nights- they had almost done her in. She had never been so scared in her life.

It was getting dark again. She was so thirsty, too, but the awful cold at least gave her that to concentrate on. Her hands were numb; her feet were getting there, too. She had gone much, much slower than she thought she would have, and tried to mark her path as best she could. She broke branches, scattered leaves, continued to carve her initials into trees along the path.

She couldn't make a damned fire. It always looked so easy in the movies, but she had nothing. Sometimes she felt as though she were starting to hallucinate; she was certainly dizzy. The only thing that kept her going was the thought that she had to help Callie and Johnny, and Joe- always Joe. The minute she wanted to give up, she kept glancing at her ring. While she didn't know why this was happening, she did know for sure that Joe would be looking for her, and she was bound and determined to leave him every clue she could think of.

She fought back tears. What she wouldn't give to be in his arms right now…

It was getting dark again and the shadows danced around, mocking her. Every noise was amplified. She went to sit down when she heard it- a voice in the distance calling her name; footsteps approaching rapidly. Oh, God! The scarred man was coming for her- he was hunting her down and trying to kill her.

She screamed and started running, half tripping in her attempt to get away, but he was getting closer. "Help!" she started sobbing, "Please!"

She heard her name called in the distance, but the sound was getting close- and now it was getting dark. Within ten minutes, she sensed that he was close by, hearing footsteps running. "No!" she screamed.

He was no more than 100 feet away from her, and she continued to scream, giving into panic, as she took the knife from her pocket. He was behind her in the darkness, and she swung wildly towards him with the knife, just missing his head.

He grabbed her and crushed her to him. "Vanessa! Vanessa!" he called. "It's me- it's Frank. You're okay now. Everything's okay!"

She managed to look up, and, sure enough, there was her brother- in- law, her friend, looking down at her in utter disbelief. She broke down in sobs and collapsed against him, clinging to him with every ounce of strength she had left.

She was safe.