"What happens then?" Laura inquired softly.
Joe shrugged. "I don't know…"
"Joe, you think you can show us all the moves on this chessboard?" Frank asked.
Joe shrugged. "I guess."
"All right," Frank replied, rising from his seat. "I'll call dad's cell to see if I can get him to tell us anything more."
Joe nodded, studying the board intently and moving the pieces around to get a feel for it again.
Picking up the cordless phone from the living room, Frank dialed their father's emergency contact number from his room. Frank let the phone ring for 12 times before he decided his father was probably never going to pick-up. Groaning, he rejoined Joe in the living room.
"Got it?" He asked Joe, hopefully.
"I think so. You remember two days ago, you and I were at Mr. Pizza with Tony and Callie?"
"Yeah," Frank answered solemnly. "What about it?"
"You stepped out for a long time and when we went after you, we found you outside-unconscious."
Frank shook his head. "I still don't know what happened that day…it was weird. I thought I heard someone calling my name, I went outside and the next thing I remember I'm at home in bed with a bump on my head."
"Well based on the postmark on these letters, the move I have down is "Rook D 6."
"Meaning?"
"The opposing side lost a pawn."
Frank's eyes widened slightly. "You mean…"
"I think there may be some kind of correlation between the moves on this chessboard and all the weird stuff that's been happening this week."
Frank looked gravely back at his brother. "The object of chess is to take the other player's king, right?"
Joe nodded. "Of course."
"Well, if this is some kind of demented game of chess someone is playing with us, which one of us is the king?"
Joe thought about it for about a minute. "It's got to be you. You were the one they've been after. Today for example, the car was trying to hit you."
Frank shook his head. "I don't think so. I mean I admit that the two of us are probably pieces on this chessboard too…but I don't think either of us are the king."
"Then who do you think is?"
Frank sighed. "Dad."
***
Joe slammed the phone down on the receiver-hard.
"Drat! Where could he be?" He asked no one in particular. Whirling, he saw Frank's face etched in concern. Despite his own distress, he sought to alleviate some of Joe's with a quiet:
"It's all right, Joe. I'm sure he's okay."
"You don't know that…"
Frank nodded. "I don't, but dad's capable of taking care of himself. I'm sure he's just too busy to pick up the phone right now."
Joe nodded distantly, wishing he would believe Frank's words.
"It's late Joe, why don't you go to sleep," Laura Hardy added, helpfully.
Joe gave her a wane smile and nodded. "Sure. I do feel kind of tired." Just before turning to make his exit, he faced Frank again.
Frank waved him away. "I'll get to bed soon too, don't worry." Nodding, Joe ascended the stairs and disappeared from view. A quiet clicking sound informed everyone that Joe had entered his room.
Laura looked to her elder son, her tiredness clear in her small, blue eyes.
"You get some rest soon too, all right? I'll go to bed now too," Pecking her son on the cheek, she quickly disappeared into the master bedroom.
Frank fell onto the sofa, snatching the phone and dialing Callie's number. After two rings, a sleepy voice answered.
"Callie? Sorry to be calling so late."
There was a pause and a yawn. "I was waiting for your call. What's up?"
Frank told her everything he knew so far starting from their father's disappearance to the strange letters to the chess moves correlating with certain "accidents" he was having.
"That's awful. Who would do such a thing to you guys…and your father?" Callie asked, shocked.
"I don't know Cal, I just don't know…" Frank replied a bit helplessly.
"Don't worry. I'm sure between you and Joe, you'll figure it out."
Frank smiled. "Thanks Callie."
"Anytime. Hey, you know it's eleven o'clock already?"
Frank laughed. "It's a Saturday. Don't tell me it's past your bedtime all ready?"
"Wise guy," Callie replied, affectionately.
Frank laughed again. "Okay, I won't keep you up. Good night."
"Good night." Callie told Frank back. He waited for the usual click before replacing the phone on the receiver.
Frank fell back onto the sofa and flipped through some random magazines. At around midnight he began to drift in and out of sleep. He was awoken abruptly by the sound of something snapping. He didn't have time to clear his blurred vision before he felt a strong hand clamp firmly on his arm and then over his mouth.
Instantly he began struggling, causing the heavier man to lose his balance and nearly trip over the coffee table. There was a muttered curse and then he heard:
"Frank...calm down, it's just me," a familiar voice hissed. Slowly, the hand was removed and Frank sucked in a breath.
"Dad?"
Joe shrugged. "I don't know…"
"Joe, you think you can show us all the moves on this chessboard?" Frank asked.
Joe shrugged. "I guess."
"All right," Frank replied, rising from his seat. "I'll call dad's cell to see if I can get him to tell us anything more."
Joe nodded, studying the board intently and moving the pieces around to get a feel for it again.
Picking up the cordless phone from the living room, Frank dialed their father's emergency contact number from his room. Frank let the phone ring for 12 times before he decided his father was probably never going to pick-up. Groaning, he rejoined Joe in the living room.
"Got it?" He asked Joe, hopefully.
"I think so. You remember two days ago, you and I were at Mr. Pizza with Tony and Callie?"
"Yeah," Frank answered solemnly. "What about it?"
"You stepped out for a long time and when we went after you, we found you outside-unconscious."
Frank shook his head. "I still don't know what happened that day…it was weird. I thought I heard someone calling my name, I went outside and the next thing I remember I'm at home in bed with a bump on my head."
"Well based on the postmark on these letters, the move I have down is "Rook D 6."
"Meaning?"
"The opposing side lost a pawn."
Frank's eyes widened slightly. "You mean…"
"I think there may be some kind of correlation between the moves on this chessboard and all the weird stuff that's been happening this week."
Frank looked gravely back at his brother. "The object of chess is to take the other player's king, right?"
Joe nodded. "Of course."
"Well, if this is some kind of demented game of chess someone is playing with us, which one of us is the king?"
Joe thought about it for about a minute. "It's got to be you. You were the one they've been after. Today for example, the car was trying to hit you."
Frank shook his head. "I don't think so. I mean I admit that the two of us are probably pieces on this chessboard too…but I don't think either of us are the king."
"Then who do you think is?"
Frank sighed. "Dad."
***
Joe slammed the phone down on the receiver-hard.
"Drat! Where could he be?" He asked no one in particular. Whirling, he saw Frank's face etched in concern. Despite his own distress, he sought to alleviate some of Joe's with a quiet:
"It's all right, Joe. I'm sure he's okay."
"You don't know that…"
Frank nodded. "I don't, but dad's capable of taking care of himself. I'm sure he's just too busy to pick up the phone right now."
Joe nodded distantly, wishing he would believe Frank's words.
"It's late Joe, why don't you go to sleep," Laura Hardy added, helpfully.
Joe gave her a wane smile and nodded. "Sure. I do feel kind of tired." Just before turning to make his exit, he faced Frank again.
Frank waved him away. "I'll get to bed soon too, don't worry." Nodding, Joe ascended the stairs and disappeared from view. A quiet clicking sound informed everyone that Joe had entered his room.
Laura looked to her elder son, her tiredness clear in her small, blue eyes.
"You get some rest soon too, all right? I'll go to bed now too," Pecking her son on the cheek, she quickly disappeared into the master bedroom.
Frank fell onto the sofa, snatching the phone and dialing Callie's number. After two rings, a sleepy voice answered.
"Callie? Sorry to be calling so late."
There was a pause and a yawn. "I was waiting for your call. What's up?"
Frank told her everything he knew so far starting from their father's disappearance to the strange letters to the chess moves correlating with certain "accidents" he was having.
"That's awful. Who would do such a thing to you guys…and your father?" Callie asked, shocked.
"I don't know Cal, I just don't know…" Frank replied a bit helplessly.
"Don't worry. I'm sure between you and Joe, you'll figure it out."
Frank smiled. "Thanks Callie."
"Anytime. Hey, you know it's eleven o'clock already?"
Frank laughed. "It's a Saturday. Don't tell me it's past your bedtime all ready?"
"Wise guy," Callie replied, affectionately.
Frank laughed again. "Okay, I won't keep you up. Good night."
"Good night." Callie told Frank back. He waited for the usual click before replacing the phone on the receiver.
Frank fell back onto the sofa and flipped through some random magazines. At around midnight he began to drift in and out of sleep. He was awoken abruptly by the sound of something snapping. He didn't have time to clear his blurred vision before he felt a strong hand clamp firmly on his arm and then over his mouth.
Instantly he began struggling, causing the heavier man to lose his balance and nearly trip over the coffee table. There was a muttered curse and then he heard:
"Frank...calm down, it's just me," a familiar voice hissed. Slowly, the hand was removed and Frank sucked in a breath.
"Dad?"