Under The Influence
Chapter 25
Fenton Hardy sat perched on the edge of the recliner, Frank having reacquired his seat on the couch next to Joe. He'd been listening to Joe's detailed explanation of his proposed plan, concealing his amusement at Frank's continuous doom-and-gloom side commentary.
Leaning forward, Fenton placed his elbows on his knees, resting his chin in his folded hands as he considered Joe's strategy. The ticking of the clock on the mantel resonated through the room in a steady rhythm, adding to Joe's anxiety and resulting in more fidgeting than usual which in turn annoyed his brother to no end. Fenton shifted slightly, his chin now supported in a "cradle" made by his thumbs as he tapped his forefingers together thoughtfully. After what seemed an eternity, Fenton sat back in his chair, crossing one leg comfortably over the other and announced his decision.
"I hate it."
"Yes!" Frank crowed triumphantly, giving his younger sibling an 'I-told-you-so!' look.
Chuckling to himself, Fenton watched his younger son, knowing Joe was about to launch into what he was sure would prove to be an animated and engaging argument defending his idea. Torn between the entertainment such an argument would provide, particularly with Frank's added 'insights', or saving Joe from any further stress, Fenton passed up the opportunity to watch his sons at their bantering best.
"But we don't have much choice," Fenton finished his announcement, laughing out loud at the stunned looks he got from both his sons.
"You agree?" Joe finally asked, still looking a little bewildered.
"Yes, Joe, I agree with you," Fenton replied, turning serious once more. "We're all going on the assumption that eventually Vanessa will wake up and tell us what happened that night in great detail. We have to remember that she suffered a pretty serious concussion. Even when she fully regains consciousness, there is no guarantee she will even remember what happened.
"If that's the case, Ryan could get off with a slap on the wrist, if that much. He can't even be charged with breaking and entering since Joe probably opened the door for him. Even if that hair forensics found in the closet turns out to be his, all it proves is that he was in the apartment at some point."
"But if it matches the DNA found on Joe and Vanessa, that would prove…" Frank began excitedly but quickly ran out of steam.
"That would prove he was there and had contact with both of them. There's no crime in that. By the time Ryan was even found, whatever injuries Vanessa or Joe may have inflicted on him could be healed, leaving no proof that whatever contact they had was violent in nature. If neither one of them could remember what happened, Ryan could easily make up any number of scenario's to cover himself and logically explain it all away."
Leaning forward again, Fenton reached out and rested a hand on Frank's knee. "I don't like putting Joe in danger any more than you do. But most of the legally obtained evidence we have right now points to Joe. The only prints on the knife are his and Vanessa's. He was holding the knife when the police arrived. We all saw that. He went after Con with the knife when he tried to get near Vanessa. The blood test confirms a large quantity of LSD was in Joe's system that night. Still more LSD was found in his gym bag. And Vanessa identified him as her assailant in front of Collig and Riley, which may or may not make it to court. We need a confession. There's just no getting around that." Sitting back, Fenton fixed his gaze on Joe. "I do want to make a few minor changes in your plan, though."
"Sure, Dad. Whatever you think is best," Joe readily agreed. Hearing all the evidence against him laid out so matter-of-factly made Joe all the more determined to follow through and get a confession out of Ryan no matter what he had to do.
"We won't be able to get any official help on this, but I don't want Frank trying to keep track of you alone. Too many things could go wrong. I'd like you to call your friends and ask them to help keep tabs on you," Fenton explained, turning to Frank.
"Tomorrow, Joe can start going out by himself. Hopefully that will draw Ryan out. I doubt he'll go after Vanessa again anytime soon…although he'll have to do it eventually. He needs both Joe and Vanessa out of the picture to get his hands on that money." He shook his head, never having understood how one person could kill another for money – or any reason other than self-defense.
"I'd like you to have one of your friends with you at all times." Fenton focused on Frank again. "Can you call Biff, Chet, Tony and Phil tonight and see if they can help you?"
"Absolutely. They'll jump at the chance to help out," Frank nodded enthusiastically, feeling a little better knowing he would have help in keeping Joe safe.
"If Ryan does grab you," Fenton looked at Joe, "I can call the police and report your kidnapping. With a little bit of luck, they'll arrive in time to hear you goad Ryan into making a full confession."
With a yawn, Fenton looked at his watch, then stood up and stretched. "I take it you two can handle it from here?"
"We've got it covered, Dad," Frank replied.
"When you're done making the arrangements with your friends, get some sleep. You'll need to be alert tomorrow. We can't afford to make a mistake on this."
Glancing at his younger brother, Frank agreed wholeheartedly.
oooOOOooo
The following morning Frank and Chet sat in the driveway of a neighbor a few houses down from the Hardys. The beat up old Camaro Chet and Joe had spent most of the spring and early summer restoring was Chet's pride and joy. While the body of the car left a lot to be desired, they had recently finished work on the engine and everything else under the hood, ensuring no one would be able to out run them.
"Here he comes," Frank murmured to a napping Chet.
Cracking an eye, Chet saw Joe walk down the driveway, breaking into a slow jog when he hit the street. Chet waited until Joe got to the end of the block, before starting the engine and pulling out into the street. Despite staying far enough away from Joe so as not to arouse suspicion, Frank and Chet saw nothing unusual as they tailed Joe on his five-mile run to the beach and back. Dropping Frank back at the Hardy home, Chet made sure he knew when his next "shift" began before departing for home.
Joe's afternoon trip to the mall, with Frank and Phil watching his every move proved just as uneventful, leaving Joe to wonder if his plan had been such a good idea. Trying to keep his brother's spirits up, Frank reminded him this was only the first day and was relieved when Joe laughed at Frank's hopeful comment that the following day would result in Joe's abduction.
The next morning Joe left for a visit to the gym, content in the knowledge that Biff, as manager of the gym, would be watching his every move inside while Frank kept watch from the parking lot. Halfway to his destination, Joe's cell phone rang. Picking it up, Joe glanced at the caller ID and saw his brother's cell phone number.
"Hey, Big Brother, what's up?" Joe asked.
"You've picked up a tail," Frank replied tersely.
"Which one?" Joe asked glancing in the rearview mirror.
"Dark green Ford Taurus. Two cars behind you."
"Got him."
"I doubt he'll try anything until you get to the gym. Too many witnesses. I'll call Biff and give him a heads up. Be careful, Joe," Frank warned, concern clearly evident in his voice.
"You too," Joe said, disconnecting the call.
As Frank predicted, Joe made it to the gym with no problem. He could feel the adrenaline rush as he got out of his car and retrieved his new gym bag from the trunk. Almost expecting to be grabbed, Joe was a little surprised when he made it through the front doors of the gym without being accosted. Walking up to the desk, he handed his membership card to Biff, who swiped it through the computer then reached behind him, picking a locker key off the pegboard and handing it to Joe.
"Frank called a few minutes ago," Biff said quietly. "He thinks Ryan might be waiting until you leave to make his move. Frank is going to wait in his car. I'll keep you covered in here."
Joe nodded in agreement, taking the key from Biff, and heading to the locker room. Walking back through the lobby on his way to the weight room a few moments later, Biff waved Joe over to the desk.
"Frank called. Ryan is sitting in his car in the parking lot watching the front door," Biff said breaking into a grin. "Don't wear yourself out, buddy. It looks like when you leave here, you're going to be kidnapped!"