CHAPTER 9
"Anyone home?" Joe Hardy called for the second time when he got back from school.
He went to his room and dropped his backpack before going to Frank's room. It was empty. Then he went down to his father's study. Empty.
"Mom? Aunt Gertrude?"
Silence.
"Where's everyone?" he wondered out loud to himself.
Then he went to check the answering machine. No messages.
He sat behind his father's desk, and began thinking. Frank would have to be back by now after going to Liz's house, he thought. A sudden apprehension went over him. Could Morris have kidnapped him again? But Frank doesn't have the chip, yet. Does he?
A flash of movement outside the window caught his eyes. Joe jumped out of his chair and went to the windows. Someone was lurking outside the house, crouching behind the thick shrubs. He couldn't make out the face. The person was wearing a black hooded sweatshirt, and jeans – and carried a black backpack.
Joe waited a little longer, wanting to find out what the person was doing. After a few moments, the lurker came out behind the shrubs, still crouching, before dashing toward the back of the house.
Joe quickly ran to the kitchen. He flung the door open, surprising the person, who was crouching in front of the door.
The person scrambled to his feet before running away, but Joe was already leaping out, and tackled him to the ground.
"Let go! Joe, it's just me!" the person cried, struggling against Joe's grip.
Joe stopped, and stared at the person in shock. "Liz?"
He quickly helped her to get up, realizing she wasn't going to run away. She brushed off the dirt on her clothes, but still hadn't removed the hood.
"I need to talk to you, but not here," she said casually, but Joe could detect the urgency in her voice.
"Okay, come inside," Joe told her, motioning toward the door.
Both of them entered the door in silence.
"Do you want anything to eat, or drink?" he offered.
"No, thanks." She was sitting down at the kitchen table.
"So, what's this all about?" he asked curiously.
"I need your help," she began nervously. "I heard you and your brother are detectives – and your Dad, too," she added quickly.
"Is it about you being a suspect of industrial espionage?" he guessed.
She nodded quickly. "But I didn't do it. He set me up," she rushed on.
"Whoa, slow down. What are you talking about?" Joe held up his hand to signal her.
Liz took a deep breath. "Okay," she said, massaging her temple. "It all started a year ago. I used to work with EDevices in Boston for five years. Anyway, last year, I was involved in a project. My boss, Mr. Garcia told us…I mean, all five of us that were involved in the project, to design a prototype for his client. We were told the project should be…um, hush-hush, that sort of thing."
Joe nodded silently.
"So, anyway, Craig, my other colleague, and I were assigned for the embedded programming part, because that's where our expertise were."
"Your boss didn't tell you who his client was?" Joe prompted.
"He just told us it was a request from the military." Liz shook her head. "We only were given the outlines, the milestones, and the specifications of the project from our client."
"What are you supposed to design?" Joe asked.
"A chip."
"A chip?" Joe breathed. Warning bells rang in his head. "What does the chip supposed to do?"
Liz hadn't a chance to reply when the shrill of a phone broke the conversation, startling Liz.
"Wait here," Joe said and rushed to answer the phone.
"Hey, Joe. It's Phil. Is Frank in?"
"No, I don't know where he is." He heard Phil muttered something.
"Okay, can you do me a favor?"
"What kind of favor?"
"Could you bring the project board that I've given Frank here. I've got to do some tinkering."
"Gee, I don't think Frank had done anything on it, yet," Joe hedged. Then he could hear some voices in the background.
"Don't worry about it. I just wanted to demonstrate how the propeller works to someone."
"Okay. I'll be there in five minutes," Joe promised and hung up the phone. Then he walked back to the kitchen.
"I've got an errand to run. I think you should follow me," Joe told Liz. After what had happened last night, he wasn't going to let Liz ran away again.
"Where are we going?" she asked anxiously.
"Phil's house," he replied and went upstairs to Frank's room. He headed for the desk, where a pile of electronic boards lay on top. Joe took one board from the top of the pile and placed it into an empty electrostatic-proof bag. Frank had told him once not to carry unprotected board anywhere because it might damage the components on the board, or to ground himself from any electricity that might flowing in his body before handling the board.
"Let's go," Joe told Liz a minute later when he descended the stairs.
Both of them piled up inside the van after Joe had locked the house.
"You told me you worked as an…embedded system programmer?" Joe asked, starting a conversation as he pulled the van out of the driveway.
"It's some sort of hardware programming. I got interested in programming after I've watched my Dad worked on his computer – he was a system software programmer," she explained. There was a wistful look on her face when she talked about her father.
"So, you only deal with…uh, microprocessors?" Joe wasn't sure if that was the right term.
Liz laughed. "You got that right for someone who isn't into electronics. We deal with anything that uses microprocessors – not for general-purpose type," she explained.
"What's the difference with your Dad's work?" he couldn't help asking.
"He wrote programs that manage the operating systems for a computer. I think you get the picture," she told him.
"Uh-huh, but you seem can do both when you worked at school," Joe commented.
"Hey, I grew up with my Dad. So, I learned a thing or two," she gave a wry grin.
"I…I've heard of your father's disappearance," he began uncomfortably, unsure on how to approach a subject that could be sensitive to her.
"So, maybe the police thinks he's already dead, but I'm still not going to give up searching for him," she replied.
Joe was shocked to hear the determination sound in her voice. She still believed her father was alive after all these years. But then he could understand why she wouldn't give up. Should I not give up, too?
"What do you think happened to him?" he asked gently.
"I don't know," she shrugged. "All I know, he went to work as usual – nothing peculiar about that, I went to school and came back like always. By dinnertime, he still hadn't come back. He never missed his dinner. So, I got worried and called his office, but his colleague told me he left the office as usual."
"He didn't have any enemies, did he?"
"Not that I know of."
A minute later, they arrived in front of Phil's house. Joe parked the van in the driveway.
Phil answered the door when Joe rang the doorbell. He looked surprise when he noticed Liz.
"What's she doing here?" Phil asked quizzically.
Liz looked slightly nervous.
"It's a long story, Phil," Joe replied. "Anyway, here's the board." He handed the black plastic bag to his friend.
"Would you like to come in or something? Bruce is here, too," he told them.
"Bruce?" Joe knitted his brows.
"Bruce Prescott. He's the new guy in my class," Phil quickly explained.
"Oh, that Bruce. Sure, why not," Joe said before Phil led them to the basement, where he had converted into his own lab.
"Hi, Bruce," Joe greeted the tall boy casually.
"Hi," Bruce replied back with a smile. His smile faltered when he caught sight of Liz. "Hey, aren't you the same one in the paper today?" he asked her. "Elizabeth Bishop?"
Joe could see Liz stiffened uncomfortably. He turned to Bruce. "Don't worry, Bruce. She won't bite you," he said, trying to lighten up the mood.
"Well, okay, if you say so," Bruce said, still looking doubtful.
"Wow! What a nice setup!" Liz exclaimed when she walked around Phil's lab that was filled with a couple of terminals, a few soldering equipments, tools, and other gizmos. "You even have Unix on your system."
"Uh, yeah, I guess," Phil mumbled. He looked as if he wasn't sure what to do with a compliment. He just looked down, taking his time pulling out the board from the package.
Joe couldn't help chuckling.
"Is that the board?" Bruce asked with interest, and carefully picked it up from Phil's hand.
"Oh, but Joe, I think –" Phil couldn't continue when the room suddenly grew hot and filled with smoke.
Liz looked alarmed. "The room's on fire!"