Disclaimer: I do not own the Hardy Boys or any of the canon book characters, and am making no monies from this story. Any Original Characters belong to the author(s).

This story was originally written in the early 2000s. There are many technological differences from today's world. Co-written with RokiaHDA, who wrote back then under the name of Aspen.

Ides of August

By EvergreenDreamweaver and RokiaHDA

Chapter 26

The three teens were shocked by Mr. Hardy's words, and immediately all of them tried to pick up the pace even more. Megan tucked her camera away and settled down to marching up the trail at a steady rate of speed; Vanessa stepped behind Joe, and put her hands against his back, ready to give him a little extra shove, should he need it.

Joe was already feeling the pull of fatigue, and he knew he wouldn't be able to make it to the top without stopping to rest a few times, but he was determined to go as far and as fast as he could, so as not to slow them down. One foot in front of the other…Frank's in trouble – got to get to Frank!….It's a good thing I had a couple of days to recover from getting hurt on Mount Rose…Oh, man, my head's starting to hurt again – never mind, it doesn't matter; we've got to get to Frank! But what's the whole story? Dad hasn't said, and there's no time now to get it from him, we need breath for climbing, not talking….

By the time they reached the top of the trail, they had been forced to stop for a breather more than once, and not only for Joe's benefit. They made the last few hundred feet with Fenton's arm securely about his son's waist, and Vanessa and Megan alternately tugging each other along. Once in the car, Fenton headed as fast as he could for the hotel.

"Let's grab a few things, just in case we have to stay in Reno again tonight," he advised, pulling into the parking lot at Caesars. "I'm going to give Lieutenant Hunt another call," he added, flipping open his cell phone as he hurried into the hotel, followed by the anxious teens. They hastened to the elevators, and to their rooms to pack, and in less than ten minutes were grouped again by the rental car.

"I got hold of Lieutenant Hunt." Fenton got in last, slamming the car door, and immediately starting the engine. "He got the same information I did."

"What information, Dad?" Joe asked.

But his father was quiet, and didn't answer him. He merely put the car into reverse and backed out of the parking space, then slammed it into Drive and shot out into the street, heading for Reno, Nevada, once again. Joe was in the front passenger seat now, and Megan and Vanessa huddled silently in the rear.

"Dad – what information?" Joe demanded impatiently, but Fenton was obviously distracted; Joe's question wasn't penetrating his concentration.

As they passed the now-familiar landmarks in the Tahoe area, Fenton was withdrawn and silent. Occasionally his lips moved, but no sound emerged; a clear sign to Joe, at least, that he was putting clues together and working through a problem. He was concentrating hard, paying the minimum attention to the road, and a worried frown puckered his forehead.

Joe looked back at the girls and shrugged. Then he tried once more. "Dad, if you'll tell us what's going on and what the problem is, maybe we could help you with it," he suggested gently.

Fenton sighed sharply. "I am an idiot. I am a complete idiot. I'm a total idiot. To sum it up, I'm a complete and total idiot. Again."

Joe shook his head. "Dad, you're not an idiot, and whatever it is, you're being too hard on yourself." Soft murmurs of agreement came from the back seat.

"I'm not being too hard on myself," Mr. Hardy stated grimly.

"Dad, what did Sam say to you that's got you so worked up?" Joe persisted.

"Sam had good luck looking into the conglomerate," Fenton said. He was careful to keep his eyes on the road. "I mean, it didn't take him much time to find out who the head is. And then he went a little deeper, because what he'd found out seemed to be a public smokescreen – the information that the conglomerate wants the public to find. A public statement that the conglomerate is owned not by one individual, but by a team of individuals, all with common interests and goals. It doesn't list the goals, of course. And a conglomerate, which as you know is a team of different kinds of businesses – they call them diversified – that have formed together, usually to help profit margins for all of them."

"Thanks for the business lesson, Dad," Joe said in a dry voice. "Could you please just get on with what Sam said?"

"Anyway, Sam did some more digging…." Fenton was still hedging.

"Dad! For sweet Pete's sake, would you just tell us what Sam found out?!" Joe shouted, his patience finally at an end.

Fenton sighed and went on, in a tight, jerky voice. "The head of the conglomerate used to be a man named Aaron – Aaron Cameron Doncaster," he said. "He's the brother of Lloyd Doncaster, the man who supposedly works for the resort just down the way from the Grand Tahoe. Aaron Doncaster got into major trouble with the law, and was supposed to go to prison eight years ago, for fraud, extortion, theft, and manslaughter – he was sentenced to serve a 25-year prison term, but he disappeared. As they do sometimes, they gave him a 'date to report' – I find that highly unusual, considering what he was convicted for, but I have a feeling he had a few people in his pocket. Right after that, he supposedly drove his car off a cliff immediately following the trial, and was declared dead…they never found a body, though, so the case wasn't completely closed. Now, I say 'used to be' in charge because of that – but I have a feeling he's still in charge of it. I think he cleaned up his act, changed his name to Cameron Jacobs, and used some of the money from his old conglomerate to buy the Grand Tahoe Resort – and several other businesses in the South Tahoe region."

Joe was beyond stunned at these revelations, and he whistled softly. Megan and Vanessa were silent in the back seat, listening avidly, but making no comments, trying not to interrupt.

"So…all along, this man who should be in jail, has been running around free," Joe said at last, leaning his head against the window. His headache was growing worse again, but he didn't want to admit it; not now! "That must be why he killed Evan Reed," he realized. "He didn't need the trouble that Reed was creating for him. If the police investigated, and looked too closely at him, they might find out who he really was!"

Suddenly, Joe sat upright, his blue eyes snapping, headache temporarily forgotten. "And he's running around loose!" he repeated. "Dad, do you think Cameron Jacobs is going to try to kill Frank again?"

"He has to," Fenton said grimly. "All this time, he's been worried that Frank saw him kill Reed. He has to try to eliminate Frank, even though Randall Claremont was arrested for it. If there's any chance at all that Frank saw who murdered Reed, then everything Doncaster – or Jacobs – has worked for, is down the tubes. And that," he concluded, "is why I am in such a hurry to get back to the hospital. Frank needs protection!"

Joe glanced into the back seat. Both girls were wide-eyed with shock, and Megan had gone paper-white. Her sprinkling of freckles stood out like new pennies.

"I thought Frank was safe, now that the person who'd tried to kill him was in jail," she gulped. "But he's not – he's not at all…." She set her teeth into her lower lip hard, trying to stop its quivering.

"Honey, we'll do our best to make sure nothing happens to him." Fenton glanced into the rear-view mirror to see Megan's face, and sought for something to take her mind off her fears. "Joe, take my phone off – thanks. Hand it to Megan…Megan, try to call Laura, if you would – Vanessa left her cell phone with her."

A few moments later, Megan snapped the phone shut. "No answer," she reported in a flat, dead voice. "All I got was voice messaging."

"Try to call the hospital then," Fenton instructed her. "You'll have to call directory assistance."

Joe felt the car speed up noticeably, and tightened his seat belt. He heard Megan talk to directory assistance and then heard her read off a number out loud; he turned slightly and saw that Vanessa was writing it down on a pad from her bag. Megan dialed another number on the phone and spoke in low tones, asking to be connected with Frank Hardy's room – but there was no answer to the phone there. She hung up again, obviously more nervous than she had been before. Joe settled back in his seat again.

This high-speed run up Mount Rose would have been fun, he thought, if we weren't so worried about Frank. He closed his eyes for a few minutes, and leaned against the window once more, trying to rid himself of the increasing headache. He knew he could take some of the pain reliever the doctor had prescribed for him, but he didn't want to be fuzzy-headed when they arrived in Reno. What if they needed to leap into action right away? Nope…better to go without it…. Without meaning to, Joe dozed off to sleep, lulled by the warmth of the sun streaming through the window where his head rested.

A few minutes later, Joe woke with a start, realizing that the car had abruptly changed speeds – first he was going really, really slowly, and now we're going faster and faster….

"Dad, what's wrong? What's going on?" Joe looked over at his father.

Fenton didn't look at him, he was dividing his attention between the road and the rear-view mirror. "We're being followed," he said tersely. "I was just checking to make sure, but the other car doesn't seem to want to go anywhere else; it's sticking right with us." He scowled. "I don't have time to mess with them….Megan, call Lieutenant Hunt, will you please, and tell him about this?" He thought for a moment, and then recited the number for her to dial.

After a few minutes, Megan was speaking to someone who identified himself as Hunt. She informed him of the situation, and described the car, aided by whispered comments from both Vanessa and Joe, who were peering out of the car windows at their pursuer.

"He says to just keep going, and he'll get right on it," Megan relayed to Mr. Hardy, after a brief pause.

Fenton nodded tightly, still keeping an eye on the mirror. "Tell him thanks."

The car kept on at its steady pace, and Joe dozed off once more, despite the anxiety of the moment. He didn't wake up again until they reached Reno's city limits, and Fenton swung the car into a sharp turn.

"Did we lose it?" Joe rubbed his eyes with his fists and turned to look behind them.

"I think so," his father responded. "I just hope that whoever was driving it didn't know we were heading for the hospital, otherwise we'll end up having to deal with them there!"

When Fenton parked the car in the hospital lot near Washoe Medical Center, the four of them climbed out of the vehicle, and hurried into the building, taking the too-familiar route to the room where Frank should be resting. All were anxious now, as if dreading the worst, and they nearly ran down the corridor and swept into Frank's room.

To their surprise and shock, the bed was empty, and neither Frank nor Laura was in the room! Fenton turned on his heel and rushed out to the nurses' station, demanding to know the whereabouts of his wife and son.

"Why, I believe they went up to the sunroom on the seventh floor," he was informed. "Frank was feeling quite a bit better this morning; he was in good spirits and getting restless, so Dr. Singh okayed it. Yes, his mother went with him," she added, with a smile. "Dr. Singh said his arm wound is mending well, and the only IVs he's on now are the antibiotics – and he'll switch him to oral antibiotics tomorrow."

Joe sagged against the desk with a sigh of relief, which was echoed by the girls; and the worried lines in Fenton's face relaxed. They thanked the nurse and headed for the elevator at a more sedate pace, feeling much better.

But when they emerged from the elevator, and followed the directions given to them by the nurse, they saw that the whole area seemed to be in turmoil. An orderly ran towards them as they approached the sun room, and asked if they were possibly Frank Hardy's family.

"Yes, we are," Fenton admitted, his voice going tight and tense once more.

"Well, sir, we don't know exactly what happened, but he's missing!" the orderly said in a worried tone.

Running footsteps echoed in the corridor, and Laura dashed up to them, looking frantic. "Fenton – oh, thank God you're here! I left Frank in the sunroom a little bit ago, while I went down to the gift shop to get him a couple of things…when I came back he was gone!" She clutched her husband's arm with frantic hands. "I didn't leave him alone – Cameron Jacobs came to visit him, and I just had to get away from that man for a little bit; he's just too much! – and he offered to stay with Frank, and everything seemed all right—"

Fenton felt himself go pale – Cameron Jacobs! He knew he should have gotten hold of her earlier! "Darling – Laura, darling – Jacobs is the one behind all of this!" he told her. "He's the one who's been trying to have Frank killed, all this time. He's the one who killed Evan Reed. Honey, it wasn't the Claremonts, at all!"

Laura gasped and went pale, putting her hands to her face. "And Cameron Jacobs has Frank!"