45.
Fairplay, Colorado
Frank Hardy drive the Yukon down Highway 9 into the small town of Fairplay. The suspected area where Sharpton had kept a hideaway and where Mr. Hardy strongly suspected might be where Sharpton had stashed millions in cash and securities. In the passenger seat sat Fenton Hardy himself. Sitting behind him was Tiffany Blake.
Frank looked over to his father. They had been going from place to place, showing photos of Sharpton in hopes someone in the small town might be able to identify him and give them a lead. So far that day they had stopped at half a dozen assorted businesses and shown the criminal's photo to various locals.
"Where next, dad?" Frank asked. Fenton Hardy had been attempting to cover as many places along the way as possible. He pointed ahead to a small place off on the left side of the road.
"Let's try that, son. The place that says Brown Burro Café." He said. Frank nodded. Tiffany poked her head up between the seats.
"Will we be eating here?" She inquired with a curt tone. "you guys have already teased me with three restaurants already." She looked at Frank, who in turn shot his dad a glance. Fenton Hardy had always been a study in patience. He could have likely gone all day on the half dozen energy bars he had stashed in his parka. But in interest of keeping this peaceful he gave his son a short nod of approval. Frank cleared his throat.
"Yes, babe. All that you can eat." He said. Tiffany gave a half smile.
"Well, it had better be good, Frank." She said. As if Frank had any possible control over the quality of food that the place would have. Mr. Hardy shot his son a sideways glance. The more he got to spend time with Tiffany, the more he seemed perplexed with his son's choice of companion. Mr. Hardy made it a point to not interfere with his son's romances. But up until recently he had never really had to worry given that Callie had been Frank's steady. Fenton Hardy had his own opinions about the collapse of that relationship. But again, chose to keep his opinions to himself and extend Frank the respect to make his own choices.
"I'm sure it will be fine, baby." Frank said. He knew Tiffany hadn't eaten since the night before and had a bit of an attitude when she didn't eat in a timely manner. Though for his money, Frank had wished Tiffany might have kept her outspokenness to herself when his father was present.
Frank pulled the SUV into the parking lot of the small eatery. The trio got out and walked across the parking lot and into the small restaurant. The interior was rich with pine tables and booths and hand-hewn support beams to give it a rustic feel. There were half a dozen patrons and what appeared to be two employees. A middle-aged waitress with dark hair, and an older man of about sixty looking up from behind a grill.
Fenton Hardy nodded as they walked to the counter. The waitress looked over to them.
"Hey there. Feel free to sit where you like." She said gesturing to the counter, table or booths. They chose a booth on the end and sat down. Tiffany slid in next to Frank on one side. Fenton Hardy sat across from them. The waitress came over and set down three menus.
"Can I get you folks a drink?" She asked. Frank and Fenton gestured to Tiffany. Tiffany had been studying the drink menu and looked up peevishly when discovering there was no real flavored coffee drinks.
"Hot tea and a Coke, please." She said. The waitress nodded.
"Coffee." Fenton Hardy said softly. Frank nodded.
"Make that two, please." He said. The waitress nodded and walked off to get their drinks. Tiffany took out her phone and started looking at it. Luckily there was a weak signal where they were at, so she went about checking her social media.
Frank looked to his dad.
"So, what do you think so far, dad?" He asked. Fenton looked thoughtful for a moment.
"Well, so far no one has recognized Sharpton's photo. This either means that he kept a pretty low profile when he came up here, or he wore a disguise. Hard to say which. Small town folks are usually good at recollecting strangers." Frank nodded his agreement.
"Well, all we need is one good break." He said. A moment later the waitress returned with their drinks and to take their order.
"Here ya go, folks. Now what can I get ya?" She asked. Frank looked over to Tiffany. She had been looking at the menu, though not finding exactly what she wanted. She sighed and looked up.
"I would like an omelette. But prefer a sweet one." She said. The waitress looked over her bifocal glasses at Tiffany questioningly.
"A sweet omelette?" She asked. Tiffany rolled her eyes and sighed. Then looked up.
"Yes. Sweet! You add a little sugar to the egg mix, and omit the pepper. You fill it with preserves, finely chopped nuts and fresh berries. Then dust with confectioner's sugar. Then spoon a warmed tablespoon of cognac on it and flambé. In my presence of course. Understood?" she asked with a forced look of sincerity. The waitress nodded to her slowly.
"Yep." She said, then looked to Frank who was squirming a bit in his seat. He coughed briefly and looked up.
"Uhm, the special will be fine. Thank you, ma'am." He said quietly. Fenton nodded and smiled.
"I will also have the special, please." He said. The waitress smiled to the two men.
"Got it, thanks!" She said and made her way back to the kitchen. A moment later they heard the voice of the cook.
"What the Hell is that?" he was apparently asking the waitress. Fenton looked at Frank silently and raised an eyebrow and cracked a half smile. They glanced over at Tiffany briefly who was transfixed on her phone, apparently oblivious that her meal request had caused a stir.
Frank forced a smile, somewhat embarrassed with it all. He cleared his throat to break the silence and took a photo out of his pocket.
"I think I will show this picture of Sharpton around in here and see if anyone recognizes it." He said getting up. Mr. Hardy nodded his approval. Frank excused himself.
Fenton Hardy looked over to his son's girlfriend who had been intensely entering text.
"Tiffany?" He asked. "I trust that you have not be advertising where we are by telling anyone in a text of our location? It's very important that none of Sharpton's associates or anyone else has any idea where we are." Tiffany rolled her eyes and looked up.
"Of course not, Mr. Hardy. Do you think I am stupid or something?" She asked. Fenton Hardy pursed his lips a moment, then cleared his throat.
"Oh, not a bit. But it's just important you don't mention our whereabouts to anyone. And since you use social media so much, I was just making sure." He said. Tiffany who had just dumped about six tablespoons of sugar into her tea looked up somewhat annoyed. She picked up her phone and flipped it on.
"Well, of course I didn't mention a thing. I will prove it." She said opening up her Facebook app. She flashed the screen to show Fenton Hardy and she scrolled down the page. "See, look. I didn't write a think abou…". Fenton Hardy interrupted her when his eye caught sight of something.
"Wait a minute!" He said pointing to the phone. Scroll back up. Tiffany again rolled her eyes and took her finger and slowly scrolled her feed up. A moment later Fenton Hardy pointed to a photo that Tiffany had posted that morning. His eyes grew wide! "What...what is that?" He asked incredulously pointing to a pic. Tiffany, perplexed turned the screen to look at the photo that Mr. Hardy had pointed to. It was a selfie pic Tiffany had taken next to Frank at a public park they had stopped at earlier.
"It's a pic of me and Frank. What's the big deal? She asked. Fenton closed his eyes for a moment to maintain composure.
"You told people where we were!" He said. Tiffany looked confused.
"I didn't tell anyone anything. It's just a pic, dude." She said, thinking he was taking the thing way too seriously. Mr. Hardy blinked repeatedly. He was unsure if he was irritated because she had just called him 'dude' or that she was oblivious to the obvious tip off in the photo. He pointed to the photo.
"Tiffany…Look off to the side in the photo. What do you see?" He asked. Tiffany sighed and turned the pic to look at it again. Upon closer examination Tiffany bit her bottom lip. Then slowly turned her head to look at a most disgruntled Fenton Hardy. In the photo, right next to Frank and Tiffany was a sign reading 'Welcome To Fairplay Colorado'. Apparently, Tiffany had failed to notice the sign at the park which got included in the selfie she took that showed a sign in the park that clearly identified where they were at! Tiffany looked at Mr. Hardy, she was clearly alarmed.
"OMG!" She said. Fenton Hardy took a deep breath and shook his head.
"Did you just really say that irritating piece of chatroom vernacular rather than simply say Oh My God? You just said an abbreviation verbally?" Fenton Hardy asked. Unsure which was more irritating. That hours ago, Tiffany had basically geotagged their location for anyone to see, or that she had just spoken to him in internet slang abbreviation speak. Tiffany flashed a brief smile and turned a bit red.
"OM… I mean oh my God, I am so sorry. Oh my…" Then she looked up as a thought struck her. Fenton Hardy noted her expression.
"What now?" He asked.
"Well…uhm… there is this other photo you might find objectionable as well." She said. Tiffany, sheepishly looked down at the phone and flipped on another photo. With hesitation, she showed it to Mr. Hardy. Fenton Hardy looked down at it. It was a photo from this morning as well. This one was a photo of Fenton and Frank Hardy together showing the photo of Sharpton to some strangers in the park and a caption below it read: 'Frank and his Dad working. BORING!' Fenton Hardy, again looked at Tiffany with an incredulous expression! He took several deep breaths. He was typically a calm person, even under the most stressing of conditions. But couldn't help but be flustered by this recent revelation. He gestured to Frank to get his attention and summon him back to the table. Frank saw his dad and walked back over to the table. He sat down and saw his father was not appearing to be his usual calm and collected self.
"What's up, dad?" He asked noticing his stress. Mr. Hardy gestured towards Tiffany.
"Show him." He instructed her. Tiffany slowly turned to Frank and showed him the photos in question. Frank immediately looked wide eyed. He turned to look at his father who was clearly offering him an expression that begged the question 'You traded Callie in for her?'
Frank tilted his head down towards the table and ran his rigid fingers along his forehead and back into his hair. He took a deep breath. He looked sideways to Tiffany.
"Delete them!" He said firmly. "Like right now, please!" Tiffany sighed and picked her phone back up.
"Oh fine. You guys didn't say nothing about posting photos. You just said not to mention it to anyone." Fenton Hardy bit his lip and then took a deep breath.
"Well…Tiffany," He started with a forced calm tone. "in this case a photo is worth a thousand words. Maybe even a million words." Frank shot her a glance.
"Or maybe even more accurately a hundred million, and I Don't mean words." He said. Mr. Hardy, wide eyed and purse lipped, nodded his agreement and pointed to Frank who had basically just alluded to the fact that Frank had essentially meant a hundred million dollars.
Tiffany nodded slowly as she picked up on what Frank had said.
"Oh, right. The treasure!" She said. Fenton Hardy rolled his eyes.
"Tiffany, it's Not a treasure. They are stolen funds and securities. We have been employed to track down these funds by the authorities and insurance carriers." Frank looked at her, interrupting his father.
"Did you get those photos deleted?" He asked. Tiffany rolled her eyes and nodded.
"Yes, Frank. All deleted." She said. Frank nodded.
"Thank you!" he said with a grumble in his voice. Frank and Fenton Hardy sat there for several moments, not saying anything. Doing their best to remain composed in light of the security breach.
A moment later an older, thin man of about sixty-five. With grey hair and whiskers and a plaid shirt came up to them.
"Excuse me, gents." He said. "But the other table of people over there said you were showing a photo around. Said you were looking for someone. I thought you would come over to my booth, but then you walked back over to your table." He said to Frank. "I'd be happy to take a peek. I run the small hardware store down the street goin on fer bout 40 years now. I think I know most everyone up here in Fairplay." Frank smiled. He saw the old timer earlier and was going to approach him before his dad summoned him back to the table.
"Yes, my name is Frank. And we were just looking for an acquaintance," he said as he took Sharpton's photo out of his back pocket. He handed it to him. "Have you seen this man before, Mr…?" Frank asked. The old man smiled.
"Sorry, my name is Sam Hopkins." He said studying the photo. "But sure! I've seen this fella." He said. "I'm almost positive but the man I know has a mustache and combed his hair a bit different than in this photo." Mr. Hardy stood up and offered his hand with a smile.
"Mr. Hopkins, my name is Fenton Hardy." He said. The old timer offered his hand and nodded. He looked at Mr. Hardy intently for a moment.
"You be the famous detective?" He asked. Mr. Hardy nodded. It was not uncommon for him to be recognized due to his many years of service in solving some of the most famous cases over the last thirty years.
"Well, yes. Thank you. A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hopkins. Can you tell us anything about this fellow in the photo?" Hopkins nodded, then gestured towards his booth.
"Come over here gentlemen. My coffee is getting cold." He said. Fenton nodded and followed him. Frank started to stand and looked over to Tiffany.
"Stay here and eat. We will talk to him." He said. Tiffany gave Frank a droll look.
"Fine. But if your dad is that easy to recognize then I am not sure why you guys jumped all over me." She said somewhat indignantly. Frank turned as he exited his seat.
"Just don't take a pic of all of us and post it on Facebook!" He said sternly. Tiffany rolled her eyes.
"Fine. But he already knows who you are. So, don't blame me if that old guy gets on his Twitter and starts tweeting away after you guys talk to him!" she said flatly. Frank walked over to join his father and took a seat in the old man's booth.
Mr. Hopkins stated he had owned the hardware store for many years. It was a spot where anyone who needed anything related would go.
"You might say I have a little bit of a monopoly on home and building items up here. Sure, if you want to drive a good hour or so you have other options. But I still give all of my customers up here a fair shake." He said taking a sip of his coffee. Mr. Hardy nodded and took out two different photos of Sharpton to go with the one Frank had already showed him.
"Please take a look at these, Mr. Hopkins. Then let me know if you are certain it is the same man." He said spreading the two other photos out on the table in front of him. Hopkins looked down at all three photos and studied them carefully. A minute later he looked up and gave a firm nod.
"Other than the mustache and little different hair, it's the same fella." He said and took another drink.
"When was the last time you saw him?" Frank asked. Hopkins rubbed his chin thoughtfully and looked up for a moment.
"Can't be certain of the exact day fer sure, but I'd say about a month, give or take a day or two." He said. Fenton Hardy smiled. This time line would make sense to him.
"Do you happen to have any record or where he lived or know anything else about him?" Mr. Hardy asked. Hopkins shrugged.
"Well, one thing I remember about Mr. Simms was that when he came out for things, it was usually a full shopping list full of stuff to fill his truck. He also always paid in cash with new bills. I remember that fer sure as one time he spent the better part of five thousand dollars and I had a heck of a time counting it. Bills sticking together and all." Mr. Hardy nodded.
"What kind of things did this Mr. Simms buy from you?" He asked. Hopkins gestured with his free hand and half shrugged.
"Well, lot of tools, lumber, tarps, eh, lots of things really." Frank had been writing down what Hopkins has listed. He looked up.
"Do you keep a record of customer's purchases?" He asked. Hopkins nodded.
"Sure. Though I'd have to look it up on the computer." He said. Mr. Hardy smiled.
"Could we impose and ask if you could do that for us?" Mr. Hopkins smiled.
"Not a problem, I reckon. Shop is just around the corner. He said. The Hardys smiled at his willingness to help.
"We do appreciate it, sir." Frank said. The three got up. Hopkins put a couple dollars on the table and looked over at the waitress.
"Thanks, Elsie. See ya for dinner." He said. The waitress smiled.
"See ya later, Sam." She said with a wave. Frank took a detour to their table and looked down at Tiffany who was picking at her food. She looked up.
"Frank, this food sucks! I want something edible." She said. Frank sighed.
"In a bit. We are on to something here and need to go around the corner and get some info. Meet us at the car in 20 minutes." He said. She looked peevishly at him. Then picked up her phone.
"Fine." She said flatly and began tapping away on her phone. Frank left the café and caught up to his dad and Mr. Hopkins. He led them down a side street and finally into a side entrance of a large brick building with the sign 'Hopkins Hardware and Lumber' on the outside. He led them into a large showroom filled with all types of hardware, tools and other building materials. He walked in back of the counter and smiled to a young man working on paperwork.
"Hey, Steve. Everything going ok?" He asked. The man nodded and smiled.
"All quiet, Sam." He said. Sam took a stool behind one of the computers and started looking through the system.
"Find you gents your info in a few moments." He said as he pushed his glasses up and started squinting at the computer screen. Frank smiled.
"No problem, sir. We appreciate it." He said. A few moments later, Sam smiled and found what he wanted. After hitting a few more keys he soon heard the sound of the printer starting to print the documents he sent to it.
"The information is printing now." He said. "Hope it helps you out." A moment later he took four pages of paper out of the printed and handed them to Mr. Hardy. Fenton Hardy studied the invoices carefully. He looked up.
"Indeed, a number of items. But what is interesting is that the address is just partial. It says Beaver Creek Road. But no house number." He said. Sam gave a half shrug.
"Well, you see, Beaver Creek Road runs up outside of town along a creek, as you can guess has the same name. The creek itself goes up the mountain a way. The road does have some formal land owners with proper houses. But there are a number of old hunting cabins and the occasional homesteader who just settles in up there. They have makeshift cabins or shelters. No utilities to speak of. Kind of a place that some folks go to when they just want to be left alone. So, the fact he had no house number to give is not necessarily surprising." He said. Mr. Hardy nodded his understanding.
"Any other thing you can think of about him?" Mr. Hardy asked. Sam thought and slowly shook his head.
"Not really, sir." He said. He looked over to his assistant. "Steve, you remember the guy who lived up Beaver Creek. Named Simms? Middle aged man with mustache?" He asked. The younger man looked up from his writing for a moment.
"He's the fella would came in that one day and bought about five thousand dollars worth of stuff?" He asked. Sam nodded.
"Yeah, him." Hopkins said. Steve nodded.
"Yeah, he was hard to forget. I believe he liked to brag about fishing. Said he had a lake in his yard and was nice to go out every morning. Man, he told some whoppers. But never could show me a picture of any that he caught." He said.
Frank had been looking over the invoices and pointed down to one paper.
"Look! Fishing gear. Apparently one of his forms of relaxing. I am guessing we should be looking for a structure with a lake nearby." Frank said and looked up to Steve and Sam. "Are there many lakes up off Beaver Creek Road?" Same shook his head.
"I wouldn't say many. Maybe three that I can remember. One of them is Winter Lake and the fella who owns that property has a proper home and looks completely different. He has lived up here all his life and he wouldn't be the type to allow anyone to fish in Winter Lake anyway. He likes to keep it his own if you get my meaning. Not a guy who will share. A pity too. That lake is so big and full, a lot of folks would love to dip their rod into it." He said.
"What about the others?" Mr. Hardy inquired. Steve took out a pad of paper and started sketching on it.
"Will be easier for me to draw you a map. There are two others I know of that just kind of sit out there. I don't believe there is any homes near them. People have fished them occasionally, but there are other better places for the average person to go fish rather than go up Beaver Creek way." He said. He continued to sketch.
"Is Beaver Creek Road far?" Frank asked. Sam shook his head.
"Not at all. You just head down this side street and turn left on to 8th Street. Then take another left. That would put you on Bogue Street. Then take it going out of town and it turns into Beave Creek Road and goes on several miles and then just dead ends into areas that are too hard to navigate in a truck and no homes to go to anyway." Frank nodded and smiled. He looked down to Steve who was finishing his sketch. He looked up and pointed down.
"Now I can't promise these are the only lakes out there, but they are the two I am aware of from growing up here." Frank nodded again and offered his hand.
"Well, I do appreciate the info. Maybe this will help us find what we are looking for." He said. Mr. Hardy extended his hand to Sam Hopkins.
"I appreciate the help, Sam. And the discretion. I noticed you hadn't asked me anything about why we were inquiring." Sam gave a short smile and nodded.
"Well sir, I figure you are you here for a good reason and if you wanted to tell me what it was then you would have. Given the nature of your business I would be a bit foolish to ask and expect an answer. I will just wish you the best and if you need any other assistance, feel free to come see us again." Mr. Hardy nodded.
"Thanks again, Sam. And to you as well." He said nodding to his assistant. Steve smiled and gave a casual wave. Frank and Fenton Hardy left the hardware store and walked back towards where they parked the car. The found Tiffany leaning against the car, looking a bit irritated.
"About time!" She said looking down at her phone to check the time. "Did you get the information you needed?" She asked Frank. Frank nodded.
"We got a lead that we can go check out." He said quietly. Tiffany gave a hopeful look.
"So, you have a clue now to find the treasure?!" She asked rather loudly. Fenton Hardy cringed at this statement and stepped up to Tiffany and looked at her.
"Would you quit calling it the treasure!?" He pleaded, looking about the parking lot for signs of eavesdroppers. Tiffany rolled her eyes.
"Oh fine! Frank, did the old dude give you a clue about the missing hundred million dollars?" She asked impatiently.
Frank looked around the parking lot hoping no one had heard her. He hit the unlock button on the SUV and opened the door quickly for Tiffany and somewhat forcefully helped her into the back seat and slammed the door.
He turned to head towards the driver's side and saw the pained look on his father's face. The expression was worth a thousand words.
Frank nodded knowingly and walked to the driver's side and got in.
