''Sorry,'' Joe said softly. ''I didn't mean to worry you.'' He closed his eyes again, his head filled with the constant pounding of a beginning drummer.
''Open your eyes boy,'' Dobson ordered.
''But Dad, it hurts,'' Joe whined softly.
Dobson's eyes widened in surprise and he looked over at Darryl with a malicious smile. When he looked back at Joe, his face was filled with feigned concern ''You have to Son,'' he said. ''I need to make sure.''
''Sure of what?'' Joe asked, forcing his eyes to open and staring at Dobson innocently.
''Sure that you're all right,'' Dobson answered. ''You got hit pretty hard.''
''I did?'' Joe asked. ''When?''
''Just a little bit ago,'' was Dobson's reply. ''You and your uncle Darryl here were putting up the lawn furniture but something flew and got you in the head,'' he explained.
Joe looked over at Darryl. ''Thanks for getting me inside Uncle Darryl,'' Joe said gratefully, closing his eyes again. Soon, he was asleep.
Dobson took Darryl's arm and led him out of the room. Closing the door, he preceded Darryl downstairs. "Why did you leave the kid alone?" Billy asked the two as they entered the living room.
''He's awake,'' Darryl told Billy.
''So you killed him already?'' Billy demanded, his face breaking out in disappointment. ''I wanted to watch.''
''Change of plans,'' Dobson told him. ''Sit down,'' he told Darryl who was still standing. Darryl sat on the sofa, three feet from Billy. ''The kid's obviously got amnesia,'' Dobson continued.
''So we gotta wait until he gets his memory back to kill him?'' Billy asked.
''You lame-brain,'' Darryl snorted.
''No, we're not going to kill him,'' Dobson said. Billy's eyes widened in surprise. ''At least, not yet. We've already got Joe believeing I'm his father and you're his uncle,'' he added, looking at Darryl. ''Billy, you can be his uncle on his mom's side.''
''Huh?'' Billy asked, confused. ''Why?''
''Simple. What would hurt Fenton Hardy more then killing his son?'' Dodson asked.
''Having him hate him,'' Darryl guessed.
''Exactly!'' Dobson agreed, smiling.
''Starting in the morning, young Joseph will discover how much he hates the Hardys.'' He looked Darryl in the eyes. ''Can you break into the Hardy's and get some of Joe's things?'' Darryl nodded his consent. ''And be sure to get some pictures of all the Hardy's except for Joe. Some individuals of Joe would be okay,'' he added.
''I'm on my way,'' Darryl said, standing up. ''Come on Billy,'' he said.
''What do you need me for?'' Billy whined, not wanting to go out in the rain.
''A diversion,'' Darryl ansered.
As the two left, Dobson shook his head. It was hard to believe those two were cousins. He sat down on the sofa and started eating his sandwiches which he had brought back from Joe's room.
***********************************************************************
All was quiet at the Hardy house. Frank and Chet had returned with Chet heading to his own home immediately. Frank had gone inside and drank a cup of cocoa with his parents before going to bed. Frank lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, thinking of Joe. He wasn't tense but his body was ready for action. Sleep wasn't soemthing he would meet up with again tonight. He heard a noise outside. Jumping from his bed, he looked out the window but saw no movement. A moment later, his father's car sprang into life. The headlights clicked on and it began backing out of the garage.
Frank ran to his door and opened it. Shouting to his parents that someone was stealing the car, he raced downstairs, forgetting to put on his shoes. He hurriedly opened the front door, snagging the car keys from beside the phone where he had left them when he returned earlier, and raced to the van in his pajamas.
Billy drove the car just slow enough to allow Frank to keep him in sight. He hit the interstate and headed for Southport.
Frank had been gone for a good thirty minutes when the phone at the Hardy household rang. Fenton picked up the receiver on the second ring. ''Hello,'' he said, expecting to hear Frank's voice.
''Fenton Hardy, this is Officer Mike Perkinson with the Southport Police Department,'' the voice came through. ''I'm afraid there has been an accident.''
Fenton's face drained of the little color he had left, his hand gripped the receiver, turning his knuckles white. ''Frank?'' he whispered. He couldn't bare to lose both his sons.
''He's been taken to the McCullen Memorial Hospital,'' Officer Perkinson told Fenton. ''You should probably hurry.''
''Yes, of course,'' Fenton replied. ''Thank you,'' he added, hanging up.
''What's wrong?'' Laura demanded, fear in her voice and eyes.
''Frank's been hurt,'' Fenton croaked. ''We've got to go to Southport,'' he said, taking her arm and pulling her to the door. They had dressed earlier when Frank's shout had awoken them. Fenton closed and locked the door, and they climed into Laura's car and headed for Southport.
As soon as they drove away, a figure dressed in black from head to shoe, stepped from behind a tree and made it's way to the back of the Hardy house. A scant minute later, the door to the kitchen opened and the intruder entered the house.
The intruder walked into the living room and quickly found what he was after. He pulled a photograph album from the bottom of an end table and opened it. He flipped through the pages, removing a photo every now and then.
Finishing, he shut the album and put it back where he had gotten it. Then he went upstairs. He located two bedrooms which obviously belonged to two teen-aged boys. Choosing the messiest one, he entered in and took a few items which wouldn't be missed by anyone but their owner.
Mission accomplished, the intruder took the photos and items and retreated out the kitchen door, making sure to lock it behind him.
''Open your eyes boy,'' Dobson ordered.
''But Dad, it hurts,'' Joe whined softly.
Dobson's eyes widened in surprise and he looked over at Darryl with a malicious smile. When he looked back at Joe, his face was filled with feigned concern ''You have to Son,'' he said. ''I need to make sure.''
''Sure of what?'' Joe asked, forcing his eyes to open and staring at Dobson innocently.
''Sure that you're all right,'' Dobson answered. ''You got hit pretty hard.''
''I did?'' Joe asked. ''When?''
''Just a little bit ago,'' was Dobson's reply. ''You and your uncle Darryl here were putting up the lawn furniture but something flew and got you in the head,'' he explained.
Joe looked over at Darryl. ''Thanks for getting me inside Uncle Darryl,'' Joe said gratefully, closing his eyes again. Soon, he was asleep.
Dobson took Darryl's arm and led him out of the room. Closing the door, he preceded Darryl downstairs. "Why did you leave the kid alone?" Billy asked the two as they entered the living room.
''He's awake,'' Darryl told Billy.
''So you killed him already?'' Billy demanded, his face breaking out in disappointment. ''I wanted to watch.''
''Change of plans,'' Dobson told him. ''Sit down,'' he told Darryl who was still standing. Darryl sat on the sofa, three feet from Billy. ''The kid's obviously got amnesia,'' Dobson continued.
''So we gotta wait until he gets his memory back to kill him?'' Billy asked.
''You lame-brain,'' Darryl snorted.
''No, we're not going to kill him,'' Dobson said. Billy's eyes widened in surprise. ''At least, not yet. We've already got Joe believeing I'm his father and you're his uncle,'' he added, looking at Darryl. ''Billy, you can be his uncle on his mom's side.''
''Huh?'' Billy asked, confused. ''Why?''
''Simple. What would hurt Fenton Hardy more then killing his son?'' Dodson asked.
''Having him hate him,'' Darryl guessed.
''Exactly!'' Dobson agreed, smiling.
''Starting in the morning, young Joseph will discover how much he hates the Hardys.'' He looked Darryl in the eyes. ''Can you break into the Hardy's and get some of Joe's things?'' Darryl nodded his consent. ''And be sure to get some pictures of all the Hardy's except for Joe. Some individuals of Joe would be okay,'' he added.
''I'm on my way,'' Darryl said, standing up. ''Come on Billy,'' he said.
''What do you need me for?'' Billy whined, not wanting to go out in the rain.
''A diversion,'' Darryl ansered.
As the two left, Dobson shook his head. It was hard to believe those two were cousins. He sat down on the sofa and started eating his sandwiches which he had brought back from Joe's room.
***********************************************************************
All was quiet at the Hardy house. Frank and Chet had returned with Chet heading to his own home immediately. Frank had gone inside and drank a cup of cocoa with his parents before going to bed. Frank lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, thinking of Joe. He wasn't tense but his body was ready for action. Sleep wasn't soemthing he would meet up with again tonight. He heard a noise outside. Jumping from his bed, he looked out the window but saw no movement. A moment later, his father's car sprang into life. The headlights clicked on and it began backing out of the garage.
Frank ran to his door and opened it. Shouting to his parents that someone was stealing the car, he raced downstairs, forgetting to put on his shoes. He hurriedly opened the front door, snagging the car keys from beside the phone where he had left them when he returned earlier, and raced to the van in his pajamas.
Billy drove the car just slow enough to allow Frank to keep him in sight. He hit the interstate and headed for Southport.
Frank had been gone for a good thirty minutes when the phone at the Hardy household rang. Fenton picked up the receiver on the second ring. ''Hello,'' he said, expecting to hear Frank's voice.
''Fenton Hardy, this is Officer Mike Perkinson with the Southport Police Department,'' the voice came through. ''I'm afraid there has been an accident.''
Fenton's face drained of the little color he had left, his hand gripped the receiver, turning his knuckles white. ''Frank?'' he whispered. He couldn't bare to lose both his sons.
''He's been taken to the McCullen Memorial Hospital,'' Officer Perkinson told Fenton. ''You should probably hurry.''
''Yes, of course,'' Fenton replied. ''Thank you,'' he added, hanging up.
''What's wrong?'' Laura demanded, fear in her voice and eyes.
''Frank's been hurt,'' Fenton croaked. ''We've got to go to Southport,'' he said, taking her arm and pulling her to the door. They had dressed earlier when Frank's shout had awoken them. Fenton closed and locked the door, and they climed into Laura's car and headed for Southport.
As soon as they drove away, a figure dressed in black from head to shoe, stepped from behind a tree and made it's way to the back of the Hardy house. A scant minute later, the door to the kitchen opened and the intruder entered the house.
The intruder walked into the living room and quickly found what he was after. He pulled a photograph album from the bottom of an end table and opened it. He flipped through the pages, removing a photo every now and then.
Finishing, he shut the album and put it back where he had gotten it. Then he went upstairs. He located two bedrooms which obviously belonged to two teen-aged boys. Choosing the messiest one, he entered in and took a few items which wouldn't be missed by anyone but their owner.
Mission accomplished, the intruder took the photos and items and retreated out the kitchen door, making sure to lock it behind him.