Road to Heaven
Chapter Seven
Frank fell out of bed as an explosion ripped through the still air. He quickly got to his feet and raced to the window. Looking down, he saw the garage on fire. Racing out of his room, he nearly collided with his mother who had also been awakened by the explosion. "Call the fire department," he ordered her, running down the stairs. "The garage is on fire."
When Frank reached the garage, he heard coughing from within and knew immediately why his brother hadn't joined him on his mad dash outside. "Joe!" Frank shouted, running into the burning garage.
There was Joe, coughing like mad, as he held a fire extinguisher and tried to aim it at the flames. Frank came over and took the extinguisher from Joe. He aimed it at the flames and sprayed until it was empty. Then he pulled off the tee shirt he had slept in and finished beating out the embers.
Joe was on his knees coughing so Frank pulled him up and, placing one of Joe's arms over his shoulders, he wrapped an arm around Joe's waist and half carried him outside into the fresh air. Frank fell to his knees in the yard and eased Joe onto his back.
Joe's coughing gradually ceased as fresh air coursed through his lungs. He lay, gulping the air in as a fire truck arrived on the scene followed by an ambulance, and a police car. Laura came running down the porch steps as Joe sat up.
"Are you okay?" Laura aksed anxiously looking back and forth between her two sons.
"I'm fine, thanks to Frank," Joe said, smiling gratefully up at his brother.
"Any time, baby brother," Frank said, smiling back, even though his forehead was wrinkled with worry lines. The paramedics came over and checked Joe out. Declaring him fit, they left the scene.
"What happened?" Con asked as he came over to the Hardys. Before anyone couls answer he looked down at Joe. Smiling, he said, "It was a relief to hear you were okay."
"You read the report?" Frank asked.
Con nodded. "It's still my case," he replied, getting serious. Then he brought the subject back to the present. "What caused the fire?" he asked.
"And the explosion?" Laura asked.
"I couldn't sleep so I decided to change the oil in the van," Joe told them. "When I got under the van, I found a bomb attatched tot he steering. I must have triggered the timer on it when I closed the door after getting a flashight out. Anyway, it had less than two minutes on it, so I disconnected it for the van. I was going to toss it outside in the empty lot across the street but when I got up, I tripped over the oil and dropped it in the pan I use to change the oil. It exploded and the pan and some rags caught fire."
Joe made a grimace and looked up at Frank. "The light from the explosion affected my vision for a bit but I grabbed the fire extinguisher and was trying to aim it when you got there."
"Who would have put a bomb on your van?" Laura asked in concern, looking at Joe to make sure he was okay as Frank offered him a hand and pulled Joe to his feet.
"Whoever killed Kenny," Frank replied. "Con, do you have some pictures to go with those names you gave me yesterday?"
"I do," Con admitted. "I also found out all I could about Craig Wallace. You can come down to the station and look the file over," he offered.
"Let's go," Joe said, neglecting the fact Frank was still in his pajama pants.
"After breakfast," Laura told him sternly. "Would you like some?" she asked Con who thanked her for the offer but declined.
Joe cleaned up the garage and checked to make sure there were no more surprises and no more surprises and no damage to the van while Laura prepared breakfast and Frank went to get dressed.
During breakfast, Frank and Joe discussed the case, planning to pay a visit to Charlie Andrews after they stopped in at headquarters.
"Please be careful," their mother begged, worried, as always, when her sons began an investigation.
"We will," Frank promised, kissing her on the left cheek as he left the house.
"Don't worry, we know what we're doing," Joe assured her, kissing her right cheek as he followed Frank outside.
At the police station, Officer Binnet handed Frank a file Con had left for them. They stook a seat and read through everything Con had been able to gather. Finishing, they put everything back in order, returned the file, and prepared to leave.
"Wait up!" Con shouted at Frank and Joe as they started to leave. "I found a picture of Craig," he told them, holding out a photo. There was a boy, about eighteen years old, wearing the same clothing Kenny had given Joe to put on after his shower. He had sandy blond hair and blue eyes. He looked like he weiged slightly more than Joe and could have been a little taller. "Kenny was probably so nice to you because you reminded him of his own son," Con surmised.
Joe shook his head. "We don't look anything alike," he denied.
"No," Con agreed. "But you're both young and, according to Craig's roommate, you and Craig could have been soulmates."
Frank raised his eyebrows questioningly at this remark. "Craig was impulsive and rash," Joe frowned, "but always willing to do anything to help out someone in need," Con finished, smiling at Joe. "He liked race cars, girls and horror flicks and he was a star athelete in high school."
"Who was his roommate?" Joe asked, planning on finding out how Craig got involved with drug dealers in the first place.
"Terry Mikeal," Con answered. "His address is 1417 Sneedham Drive, apartment 702. He's nineteen, with blond hair and with a blond mustache," Con added.
The boys thanked Con and left the station. "Let's go pay a visit to Terry before we see Andrews," Joe suggested as they climbed into the van.
"You must be reading my mind," Frank replied with a sideways glance at his brother in the passenger seat. He started the motor and they were off. Twenty minutes later, they pulled on to Sneedham Drive. Frank parked the van and they got out and made their way to the apartment building.
"Doesn't look much, does it?" Joe asked, wrinkling his nose in distaste as he looked at the eight story brick building. The entry way had no door and graffiti covered the lower walls. Half the windows on the bottom three floors had been broken and the place held the unmistakable odor of one which had been recently fumigated.
"Stay alert," Frank ordered Joe, silently agreeing with him. His gaze had not only taken in the building's appearance, but also the appearance of some rough looking characters standing off to the side of the building. One of whom had a long beard and long hair. Frank thought this could be one of the man who had killed Kenny the night before.
"Check out the groupies on the left," Frank whispered to Joe, his lips barely moving. Joe's eyes moved in the direction Frank had told him, although he remained facing the building's entrance.
"Gotcha," Joe whispered back, recognizing the profile Frank had given Chief Collig the previous evening.
They went inside and climbed the stairs to the seventh floor. "Can you imangine a fire in this place?" Joe asked Frank as they arrived at Terry's apartment.
"No way out," Frank replied, remembering the rusty fire escape outside.
Joe knocked on the door. When it opened, he was so surprised that he crashed backward into Frank, who fell backwards into the railing. The railing, needing repair like everything else in the building, cracked under Frank's weight. Frank fell back into the empty void.
Chapter Seven
Frank fell out of bed as an explosion ripped through the still air. He quickly got to his feet and raced to the window. Looking down, he saw the garage on fire. Racing out of his room, he nearly collided with his mother who had also been awakened by the explosion. "Call the fire department," he ordered her, running down the stairs. "The garage is on fire."
When Frank reached the garage, he heard coughing from within and knew immediately why his brother hadn't joined him on his mad dash outside. "Joe!" Frank shouted, running into the burning garage.
There was Joe, coughing like mad, as he held a fire extinguisher and tried to aim it at the flames. Frank came over and took the extinguisher from Joe. He aimed it at the flames and sprayed until it was empty. Then he pulled off the tee shirt he had slept in and finished beating out the embers.
Joe was on his knees coughing so Frank pulled him up and, placing one of Joe's arms over his shoulders, he wrapped an arm around Joe's waist and half carried him outside into the fresh air. Frank fell to his knees in the yard and eased Joe onto his back.
Joe's coughing gradually ceased as fresh air coursed through his lungs. He lay, gulping the air in as a fire truck arrived on the scene followed by an ambulance, and a police car. Laura came running down the porch steps as Joe sat up.
"Are you okay?" Laura aksed anxiously looking back and forth between her two sons.
"I'm fine, thanks to Frank," Joe said, smiling gratefully up at his brother.
"Any time, baby brother," Frank said, smiling back, even though his forehead was wrinkled with worry lines. The paramedics came over and checked Joe out. Declaring him fit, they left the scene.
"What happened?" Con asked as he came over to the Hardys. Before anyone couls answer he looked down at Joe. Smiling, he said, "It was a relief to hear you were okay."
"You read the report?" Frank asked.
Con nodded. "It's still my case," he replied, getting serious. Then he brought the subject back to the present. "What caused the fire?" he asked.
"And the explosion?" Laura asked.
"I couldn't sleep so I decided to change the oil in the van," Joe told them. "When I got under the van, I found a bomb attatched tot he steering. I must have triggered the timer on it when I closed the door after getting a flashight out. Anyway, it had less than two minutes on it, so I disconnected it for the van. I was going to toss it outside in the empty lot across the street but when I got up, I tripped over the oil and dropped it in the pan I use to change the oil. It exploded and the pan and some rags caught fire."
Joe made a grimace and looked up at Frank. "The light from the explosion affected my vision for a bit but I grabbed the fire extinguisher and was trying to aim it when you got there."
"Who would have put a bomb on your van?" Laura asked in concern, looking at Joe to make sure he was okay as Frank offered him a hand and pulled Joe to his feet.
"Whoever killed Kenny," Frank replied. "Con, do you have some pictures to go with those names you gave me yesterday?"
"I do," Con admitted. "I also found out all I could about Craig Wallace. You can come down to the station and look the file over," he offered.
"Let's go," Joe said, neglecting the fact Frank was still in his pajama pants.
"After breakfast," Laura told him sternly. "Would you like some?" she asked Con who thanked her for the offer but declined.
Joe cleaned up the garage and checked to make sure there were no more surprises and no more surprises and no damage to the van while Laura prepared breakfast and Frank went to get dressed.
During breakfast, Frank and Joe discussed the case, planning to pay a visit to Charlie Andrews after they stopped in at headquarters.
"Please be careful," their mother begged, worried, as always, when her sons began an investigation.
"We will," Frank promised, kissing her on the left cheek as he left the house.
"Don't worry, we know what we're doing," Joe assured her, kissing her right cheek as he followed Frank outside.
At the police station, Officer Binnet handed Frank a file Con had left for them. They stook a seat and read through everything Con had been able to gather. Finishing, they put everything back in order, returned the file, and prepared to leave.
"Wait up!" Con shouted at Frank and Joe as they started to leave. "I found a picture of Craig," he told them, holding out a photo. There was a boy, about eighteen years old, wearing the same clothing Kenny had given Joe to put on after his shower. He had sandy blond hair and blue eyes. He looked like he weiged slightly more than Joe and could have been a little taller. "Kenny was probably so nice to you because you reminded him of his own son," Con surmised.
Joe shook his head. "We don't look anything alike," he denied.
"No," Con agreed. "But you're both young and, according to Craig's roommate, you and Craig could have been soulmates."
Frank raised his eyebrows questioningly at this remark. "Craig was impulsive and rash," Joe frowned, "but always willing to do anything to help out someone in need," Con finished, smiling at Joe. "He liked race cars, girls and horror flicks and he was a star athelete in high school."
"Who was his roommate?" Joe asked, planning on finding out how Craig got involved with drug dealers in the first place.
"Terry Mikeal," Con answered. "His address is 1417 Sneedham Drive, apartment 702. He's nineteen, with blond hair and with a blond mustache," Con added.
The boys thanked Con and left the station. "Let's go pay a visit to Terry before we see Andrews," Joe suggested as they climbed into the van.
"You must be reading my mind," Frank replied with a sideways glance at his brother in the passenger seat. He started the motor and they were off. Twenty minutes later, they pulled on to Sneedham Drive. Frank parked the van and they got out and made their way to the apartment building.
"Doesn't look much, does it?" Joe asked, wrinkling his nose in distaste as he looked at the eight story brick building. The entry way had no door and graffiti covered the lower walls. Half the windows on the bottom three floors had been broken and the place held the unmistakable odor of one which had been recently fumigated.
"Stay alert," Frank ordered Joe, silently agreeing with him. His gaze had not only taken in the building's appearance, but also the appearance of some rough looking characters standing off to the side of the building. One of whom had a long beard and long hair. Frank thought this could be one of the man who had killed Kenny the night before.
"Check out the groupies on the left," Frank whispered to Joe, his lips barely moving. Joe's eyes moved in the direction Frank had told him, although he remained facing the building's entrance.
"Gotcha," Joe whispered back, recognizing the profile Frank had given Chief Collig the previous evening.
They went inside and climbed the stairs to the seventh floor. "Can you imangine a fire in this place?" Joe asked Frank as they arrived at Terry's apartment.
"No way out," Frank replied, remembering the rusty fire escape outside.
Joe knocked on the door. When it opened, he was so surprised that he crashed backward into Frank, who fell backwards into the railing. The railing, needing repair like everything else in the building, cracked under Frank's weight. Frank fell back into the empty void.