Fenton grabbed the receiver as the message ended and dialed the hospital. "Room 422," he requested. After the fifth ring he disconnected and redialed. "Send someone to room 422," he ordered and slammed the phone down.
Frank ran from the room, snagging his jacket on his way out while his father made the call. By the time he had backed the car out of the drive, Fenton was running down the porch steps, pulling his coat on as he went. He jumped in the passenger side and Frank had his foot on the gas before his father had closed the door.
Reaching the hospital, Frank took the nearest free space. Rushing inside, he and Fenton ignored the elevator and ran up the steps, not stopping until the hit the fourth floor's landing. They rused to room 422 and halted in the doorway. Fenton inhaled deeply when he saw not his son lying still beneath the hovering doctor, but his wife.
"Mom," Frank whispered in fear from beside his father.
Dr. Lymbock turned around at the softly spoken word. "She's all right," he quickly assured the two Hardys. "She has been drugged."
"Where's Joe?" Frank demanded, his moth dry.
"Two men took him," the brown-haired nurse replied shakily.
"What two men?" Frank demanded, his voice coming out angry although it was worry and fear talking.
"They were dressed as orderlies," she replied. "They said Dr. Lymbock wanted Joe taken back downstairs for another cat scan."
"And you didn't question why he would need another?" Dr. Lymbock asked her.
"The stocky one said you mentioned seeing something that required another test to be sure," she answered.
"Dobson's men," Fenton stated, walking over to the phone by the bedside and picking up the receiver. He dialed a nine to get an outside line, then phoned the police.
Frank looked at the nurse as his father asked for assistance. "What did the two men look like?" he asked her.
"One was short and stocky with brown hair put back in a pony tail. The other was taller, maybe six foot tall, with dirty blond hair and a beard," she described them.
"Thanks," Frank told her and left the room. He took the elevator to the bottom floor and asked everyone he saw about the two men. Finally, one nurse replied she had seen the two men in question.
"Where?" Frank asked, his eyes brightening with the scent of a lead.
"They were leaving out the exit by the C garage," she told him.
"Was anyone with them?" he inquired urgently.
"A blond kid," she informed him. "They were carrying him. I asked if they needed help but they said he had been given something to keep him from throwing up and it had made him fall asleep."
"Did they say anything else?" Frank asked.
"Just that they were taking him home," she said, curiosity in her eyes as she wondered why he was so interested.
"Thanks," he told her, forcing a smile onto his face. "You've been a big help." He hurried to the C garage and came to a stop at the base of the stairs, looking around helplessly.
"Can't find your car?" asked an elderly gentleman leaning on a cane by the wall.
Frank turned to look at the man. "You shouldn't be out here," he said. "It's too cold."
"Nonsense," the man argued. "The wind doesn't reach this far back and a little cool air is good for you."
Frank smiled at the man. "How long have you been out here?" he asked.
"About fifteen or twenty minutes," the man replied. "Been visiting a friend. My daughter is supposed to pick me up up here in a few more minutes."
"Have yous seen two guys come out, carrying a third?" he asked the gentleman and gave a description.
"I sure did," the man said. "The two older ones put the one in the back seat of their car and they got in front."
"What kind of car?" Frank asked, his eyes glowing with delight.
"A beige and brown Cadillac," was the response.
"I don't suppose you got their license number?" Frank asked.
"Can't say as I did," the man admitted. "Why are you so interested in them anyway?" he demanded, looking at Frank suspiciously.
"The blond boy they were carrying was my brother," Frank told him, his eyes once again filling with concern. "They kidnaped him out of his room a little bit ago."
"Oh, my," the man said, his green eyes widening in surprise.
"Did they say anything?" Frank asked.
"They were talking about a boat," the man replied, concentrating. "The Gallena, I think they called it."
"Anything else?" Frank asked, grateful for the lead but wanting more.
"No," the old man replied, looking at a blue Nova that pulled to a stop in front of him and Frank. "That's all I heard," he replied.
"Thank you so much for your help," Frank thanked the man, pulling out a little notebook from his back pocket and a pen from his shirt pocket. He wrote down his name and home phone number. "If you can think of anything else they might have said, will you please give me a call?" he asked, tearing off the sheet of paper and handing it to the man.
"I'll do that," the man promised, going to the Nova and opening the door.
"Thanks again," Frank said as the man climbed into the car. As the car took off, Frank turned and went back inside the building and up to the fourth floor where he saw that the police had arrived. Going into room 422, he saw his mother beginning to stir.
"Joe," she whispered, turning her head to lok for him. "Joe," she said again, a bit louder this time. "Joe!" she shouted, coming fully conscious and sitting up with a start.
"Easy," Fenton said tring to calm her down.
"They're going to kill him!" she shouted, terrified. "He..he said they were going to take him away and kill him and we would never find the body!" she wailed, bursting into tears.
Frank ran from the room, snagging his jacket on his way out while his father made the call. By the time he had backed the car out of the drive, Fenton was running down the porch steps, pulling his coat on as he went. He jumped in the passenger side and Frank had his foot on the gas before his father had closed the door.
Reaching the hospital, Frank took the nearest free space. Rushing inside, he and Fenton ignored the elevator and ran up the steps, not stopping until the hit the fourth floor's landing. They rused to room 422 and halted in the doorway. Fenton inhaled deeply when he saw not his son lying still beneath the hovering doctor, but his wife.
"Mom," Frank whispered in fear from beside his father.
Dr. Lymbock turned around at the softly spoken word. "She's all right," he quickly assured the two Hardys. "She has been drugged."
"Where's Joe?" Frank demanded, his moth dry.
"Two men took him," the brown-haired nurse replied shakily.
"What two men?" Frank demanded, his voice coming out angry although it was worry and fear talking.
"They were dressed as orderlies," she replied. "They said Dr. Lymbock wanted Joe taken back downstairs for another cat scan."
"And you didn't question why he would need another?" Dr. Lymbock asked her.
"The stocky one said you mentioned seeing something that required another test to be sure," she answered.
"Dobson's men," Fenton stated, walking over to the phone by the bedside and picking up the receiver. He dialed a nine to get an outside line, then phoned the police.
Frank looked at the nurse as his father asked for assistance. "What did the two men look like?" he asked her.
"One was short and stocky with brown hair put back in a pony tail. The other was taller, maybe six foot tall, with dirty blond hair and a beard," she described them.
"Thanks," Frank told her and left the room. He took the elevator to the bottom floor and asked everyone he saw about the two men. Finally, one nurse replied she had seen the two men in question.
"Where?" Frank asked, his eyes brightening with the scent of a lead.
"They were leaving out the exit by the C garage," she told him.
"Was anyone with them?" he inquired urgently.
"A blond kid," she informed him. "They were carrying him. I asked if they needed help but they said he had been given something to keep him from throwing up and it had made him fall asleep."
"Did they say anything else?" Frank asked.
"Just that they were taking him home," she said, curiosity in her eyes as she wondered why he was so interested.
"Thanks," he told her, forcing a smile onto his face. "You've been a big help." He hurried to the C garage and came to a stop at the base of the stairs, looking around helplessly.
"Can't find your car?" asked an elderly gentleman leaning on a cane by the wall.
Frank turned to look at the man. "You shouldn't be out here," he said. "It's too cold."
"Nonsense," the man argued. "The wind doesn't reach this far back and a little cool air is good for you."
Frank smiled at the man. "How long have you been out here?" he asked.
"About fifteen or twenty minutes," the man replied. "Been visiting a friend. My daughter is supposed to pick me up up here in a few more minutes."
"Have yous seen two guys come out, carrying a third?" he asked the gentleman and gave a description.
"I sure did," the man said. "The two older ones put the one in the back seat of their car and they got in front."
"What kind of car?" Frank asked, his eyes glowing with delight.
"A beige and brown Cadillac," was the response.
"I don't suppose you got their license number?" Frank asked.
"Can't say as I did," the man admitted. "Why are you so interested in them anyway?" he demanded, looking at Frank suspiciously.
"The blond boy they were carrying was my brother," Frank told him, his eyes once again filling with concern. "They kidnaped him out of his room a little bit ago."
"Oh, my," the man said, his green eyes widening in surprise.
"Did they say anything?" Frank asked.
"They were talking about a boat," the man replied, concentrating. "The Gallena, I think they called it."
"Anything else?" Frank asked, grateful for the lead but wanting more.
"No," the old man replied, looking at a blue Nova that pulled to a stop in front of him and Frank. "That's all I heard," he replied.
"Thank you so much for your help," Frank thanked the man, pulling out a little notebook from his back pocket and a pen from his shirt pocket. He wrote down his name and home phone number. "If you can think of anything else they might have said, will you please give me a call?" he asked, tearing off the sheet of paper and handing it to the man.
"I'll do that," the man promised, going to the Nova and opening the door.
"Thanks again," Frank said as the man climbed into the car. As the car took off, Frank turned and went back inside the building and up to the fourth floor where he saw that the police had arrived. Going into room 422, he saw his mother beginning to stir.
"Joe," she whispered, turning her head to lok for him. "Joe," she said again, a bit louder this time. "Joe!" she shouted, coming fully conscious and sitting up with a start.
"Easy," Fenton said tring to calm her down.
"They're going to kill him!" she shouted, terrified. "He..he said they were going to take him away and kill him and we would never find the body!" she wailed, bursting into tears.