"Mom, can I go to Phil's?" asked six-year-old Frank Hardy, running into the kitchen where his mother and year younger brother sat at the table stringing beans.
"You may," Laura said, smiling at the adorable brown-headed boy who resembled his father. "His mother called me a little while ago and said Phil was going to ask you."
Frank's brown eyes lit up as he looked into his mother's blue ones. "Thanks!" he said and took off through the backdoor without another word.
"Can I go too?" asked Joe, looking into his mom's eyes with matching blue ones.
Laura reached over and ruffled Joe's blond locks. "You may," she agreed. "But only if it's okay with your brother."
"Thanks!" Joe shouted, running out the door.
Joe saw Frank at the end of the street. "Hey!" he shouted, following Frank across the street when Frank never stopped. "Wait up!" Joe shouted louder. "Mom said I could go with you!"
Frank stopped at the next crosswalk and turned around. He glared at Joe with hard brown eyes and a scowl on his face. "Go home!" he ordered the younger boy.
"No," refused Joe stubbornly. "Mom said I could go with you to Phil's."
"I don't want you to go with me," Frank cut him off. "I'm six years old. I don't want some baby following me everywhere I go."
"But..." Joe tried to speak again, his blue eyes reflecting the hurt he felt but Frank never gave him a chance.
"Go home!" ordered Frank again, turning and walking further away. "And stop following me everywhere I go!"
"No!" Joe refused, catching up to Frank again.
"Leave me alone!" Frank shouted at him, turning around and glaring at his brother. He threw his arms up in the air in frustration. "Why do you even have to be here?" he demanded. "Why couldn't I have been an only child?" He turned again and took off for Phil's at a run, leaving Joe alone almost three blocks from home.
Joe watched Frank until he was out of sight before turning around. He started walking, looking at the ground and using the back of his hand to swipe at his eyes.
"Hey, little fella." Startled, Joe stopped and looked up when a pair of shoes stepped into his line of sight. "What's wrong?"
Joe sniffed and wiped his eyes again. "No...nothing," he said. He wasn't supposed to talk to strangers but the man was wearing a policeman's uniform and he knew it was okay to talk to them. After all, his daddy used to be a police officer until last year when he had become a private investigator and moved his family to Bayport.
"It's not nice to fib," the officer said, falling to one knee so he could look into the child's face. "I'm Officer Greely," he introduced himself. "What's your name?"
"Joe," Joe answered.
"Well, Joe, how can I help you if I don't know what's wrong?" Greely asked kindly.
Joe looked into the man's pale blue eyes thoughtfully. Deciding his dad would not be proud of him if he didn't, Joe told the officer about following Frank and about Frank saying he wished he were an only child.
"I'm sure he didn't mean it," Officer Greely said, pushing a lock of blond hair away from Joe's eyes.
"Yes, he did," Joe insisted, fresh tears sliding down his cheeks.
"Tell you what," the officer said. "Why don't we go get you an ice cream cone?" he asked, standing up and smiling down at Joe. "That will make you fell a little better."
"I can't," Joe replied. "I have to go home."
"But I can't let you go home still sad," Officer Greely said. "How would it look if one of Bayport's finest couldn't help a young man in distress?"
"I'm not wearing a dress!" Joe shouted indignantly.
Officer Greely laughed. "Distress," he repeated. "It means in trouble or, in your case, troubled," he explained. "I know," he continued. "Why don't we go the payphone on the next block and call your parents?" he suggested, pointing to another crosswalk in a different direction from where Joe lived.
"Okay," agreed Joe and gave the officer his phone number.
Officer Greely took Joe's hand in his and they crossed the street. "Why don't you look at the pretty flowers while I call your mom?" he suggested. Joe walked away as the officer picked up the phone.
A couple of minutes later Officer Greely hung up the phone and walked over to where the woman selling the flowers was talking to Joe. "Your mom said it would be all right," he told Joe. "Ready?" Joe put his hand in the officer's and together the two walked down the street toward town.
Two blocks down, Officer Greely came to a stop beside a white four-door car. "We'll drive the rest of the way," he told Joe, opening up the passenger door for him.
"Why aren't you driving a police car?" asked Joe curiously.
"It's an unmarked police car," Joe was informed. "Now climb in," Greely ordered. "We don't want to keep you too long or your mother might get upset."
Joe climbed in the car and buckled up as the officer got in on the other side. Joe watched with anticipation out his window as they passed the various houses and businesses on the way to the shop but when they passed the ice cream parlor, Joe began to get nervous. "You passed it," he complained.
"There's a new place just another mile ahead," the officer informed Joe calmly. "It's okay," he added. "I told your mother that I was taking you to the new one."
Joe sat quietly and continued to watch outside. He didn't know how long a mile was but they had been driving a long time and had left town were now on the highway. "I changed my mind," Joe said. "I don't want any ice cream."
"Sure you do," the officer returned.
"No, I don't," insisted Joe. "I want to go home."
"If you're sure?" Greely asked, casting a sidelong glance at the youth.
"Yes, please," Joe replied politely.
"Okay, then," agreed Greely.
"Are we going to turn around now?" asked Joe when they kept going.
"No."
"Why not?" Joe wanted to know. "This isn't the way home."
"It's the way to my home," Greely informed him. "You're going to be living with me from now on."
***
"Hello, Patricia," Laura said when Phil's mom answered the phone.
"Hi, Laura," Patricia returned. "Thank you for letting Frank come over. Phil's been so hyper today I was ready to pull my hair out."
"You're more than welcome," Laura replied with a laugh. "I was just calling to make sure the boys got there okay."
"Boys?" queried Patricia.
"Umm-hmm," Laura answered, a ball of fear growing inside of her. "Joe followed Frank out of the door. Even if he didn't catch up to him, Joe should be there by now."
"Frank's been here for about fifteen minutes," Patricia said. "But I haven't seen Joe."
"Oh God!" Laura moaned fearfully. "Put Frank on, please?"
"Hold on," Patricia told her then stepped out onto the back porch. "Frank, your mother is on the phone. She wants to talk to you."
"Great," grumbled Frank, standing up and looking down at Phil with a scowl. "I probably have to go back home now because I wouldn't let Joe tag along." Frank walked slowly across the lawn and up the steps.
Patricia led the way inside and handed Frank the telephone. "Frank, have you seen your brother since you left here?" Laura demanded, trying hard not to reveal the panic she felt.
"Yes, ma'am," answered Frank. Laura breathed a heavy sigh of relief. "But I sent him back home," he added, causing her to grip the phone so tight her knuckles turned white. "I wanted to play with Phil without having to watch out for Joe," he explained.
"Did..." Laura began but had to stop and swallow because her throat was extremely dry. "Did you watch Joe come home?" she asked him.
"No, ma'am," Frank answered.
"Did he follow you all of the way?" she asked desperately.
"No," Frank said. "We were in front of Mrs. Bumgarner's house when I left him."
"Okay, dear," Laura said in a trembling voice. "Would you please put Mrs. Cohen back on the phone now?"
"Are you mad at me?" asked Frank.
"No, dear," Laura said. 'Disappointed,' she thought. 'But not mad.'
"Laura?" Patricia was back on the phone.
"Can you keep Frank there for awhile?" asked Laura.
"Sure," agreed Patricia at once. "He can stay the night if you need him too?"
"Thank you," said Laura. "But I will pick him up later. I'm sure the police will want to talk to him."
"You really think something's happened to Joe?" Patricia asked fearfully.
"I hope not," Laura answered. "But I've got to try and find him now. Thanks," she said and hung up.
Laura exited the house and called out to Colleen Mills, their next door neighbor. "Colleen, would you please keep an eye out for Joe?" she asked. "And if he shows up, hang on to him?"
"Surely," agreed Colleen. "Is there a problem?"
"Joe was supposed to go to the Cohen's but he never showed up," Laura admitted. "I'm going to look for him."
"Don't worry," Colleen said, smiling. "He probably just got sidetracked. You know the attention span of a five-year-old."
"I hope you're right," said Laura, the worried frown never leaving her face.
Laura stopped at every house between her's and the Cohen's and asked about Joe but no one had seen him about today. Walking into the Cohen's backyard, she had never felt so scared in all of her life.
"Mom, what's wrong?" demanded Frank, running up to her. He had seen her coming and the look on her face upset him to say the least.
"I can't find your brother," Laura told him truthfully.
"He didn't go back home?" asked Frank. Laura shook her head. "I bet he's just hiding," said Frank. "I kind of made him mad."
"How?" asked Laura, hoping that was exactly what Joe was doing. Frank bit his bottom lip. He didn't want to tell his mom what he had said to Joe but he knew he didn't have a choice so he let it all out.
"You said what?" Laura gasped in shock.
"I said I wished I were an only child," Frank admitted. "I just wanted some time to do things without that baby hanging around," he explained. "Anyway, that's probably why he's hiding. He just wanted to get me into trouble for not letting him come with me."
"Maybe," Laura said, not wanting to waste time arguing or lecturing. "But you know where he would hide if he were hiding, right?" she asked. Frank nodded. "Will you show me?"
Frank bit his bottom lip. Sure, he wanted to hang out with his friends instead of his brother but to tell on him or give away his secrets, that was just something a guy didn't do.
Laura could tell Frank was torn between loyalty to his brother and her so she arranged a compromise. "How about if I walk with you close to where you think he might be and then you can go check while I wait?"
"Okay," Frank agreed with the plan. "See you later," he told Phil, taking his mom's hand and pulling her away.
"Thanks!" Laura shouted to Patricia who was watching from the porch.
"Good luck!" Patricia shouted. "Let me know if we can help," she volunteered hers and her husband's services.
Frank led his mom to a large tree on Phil's block and stopped. "Wait here," he told her then ran past the tree and into some bushes. He came back out a few seconds later. "Not there," he announced.
Their next two stops were after they had crossed the first street heading back home but Joe wasn't at either of those places. Scowling, Frank led his mom back to their street. He had hoped Joe was hiding on the block he had left him on but since he wasn't, Frank was going to have to take a chance on his mom discovering their secret hideouts close to home. Frank went for the first place all set to tear into Joe once he found him.
Thirty minutes later, Frank came out from under the back porch and shook his head at his mother. "Maybe at the next one," she said hopefully.
"That was the last one," Frank informed her. "He musta found a new hiding place."
Laura began shedding silent tears. "Go on inside and wash up," she instructed Frank. "I need to make a phone call," she added, following him up the steps and into the house.
"Momma, don't cry," Frank begged, silently vowing to make Joe pay for upsetting their mother this much.
"It's okay, dear," Laura told him, trying to smile at him. "Run along, now."
As Frank ran up the steps to the bathroom, Laura picked up the phone and called the Bayport Police Department. "My name is Laura Hardy and I live at five seventy one Elm Street," she identified herself. "My five-year-old son has been missing for over an hour and I've looked all over the neighborhood."
***
"Fenton!" called out Detective-Lieutenant Ezra Collig as he started down the steps outside of the police station.
Fenton Hardy, a man in his middle twenties and recently resigned from the New Your City Police Department, had just exited the building prior to Ezra and was on his way to a green sedan parked across the street when he heard his friend call to him. He stopped and turned to wait; his detective instincts kicking into overdrive as Ezra neared. "What is it?" Fenton demanded. "What's wrong?"
"Laura just called," Ezra informed him. "Joe's missing."
Joe's missing. The words called forth a wave of terror as Fenton remembered the last time his son was missing. On Joe's fourth birthday he had taken Laura and the boys to the carnival. They were almost ready to go home when Frank had begged for one more ride on the roller coaster. Joe hadn't wanted to go so while he accompanied Frank on the ride, Laura had taken Joe into the funhouse where he had gotten separated from her. When Fenton and Frank got off the ride they had gone to the funhouse in time to hear Laura's terrified voice telling the carney at the entrance that Joe was missing.
One member of a gang he and his partner, Sam Peterson, had been tracking had kidnapped Joe. The men used Joe as a hostage to keep him from working on the case. Even now with Joe once again missing, he had to smile when he thought of how his four-year-old son had tricked his captors and locked them in the basement of the house they had been using as a hideout. Joe had locked them in and then used the phone to call the police and tell them the phone number. It had taken less than an hour to trace the number and locate Joe and the men but it had seemed like an eternity. Long enough for Fenton to decide to quit the police force and move his family out of the big city and into a small town where they would be safe. Or so he had believed.
"Fenton," Ezra said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Let me drive." Ezra knew that Fenton valued his family above everyone and everything. There wasn't anything he wouldn't do for his wife or sons. It was with this knowledge that he knew Fenton, although seemingly calm, was about to fall apart.
The two men climbed into Ezra's car and hurried to the Hardy home. "Fenton!" Laura screamed, running down the steps and throwing herself in his arms after he exited the vehicle. "Joe's gone!"
Fenton hugged his wife tight. "Where's Frank?" he demanded, fear he might lose both sons surfacing.
"Inside," Laura answered. "Joe was following Frank to Phil's but Frank sent him back home only....he never came back," she explained, fresh tears gliding down her cheeks.
"Stay here," Fenton told her. "We'll find him." He and Ezra searched the neighborhood, calling out Joe's name and enlisting the aid of some of the people who were home, but Joe was nowhere to be found.
With a heavy heart, Fenton followed Ezra back to Elm Street. Ezra called Dispatch and put out an alert for Joe then escorted Fenton inside. "The chief is getting in touch with the FBI," Ezra informed Fenton and Laura. "They will be here soon."
***
"I want to go home!" demanded Joe stubbornly even though his eyes were filled with fear.
"We are home," Greely informed Joe, pulling to a stop in the drive of a modest ranch house. Greely unbuckled his belt then reached over and released Joe before opening the door and getting out, pulling Joe along with him.
Joe began pulling away but Greely gripped Joe's arm tightly, causing the youth to wince. "Stop it!" Greely ordered.
The front door of the house opened and a woman with short blond hair and hazel eyes looked at Joe in delight. "Oh, Roger," she breathed. "He's wonderful!"
"Let...me...go," Joe growled, pulling harder with each word.
"That's enough, Jonathan," snapped the woman, looking at Joe sternly. "Stop fighting with your father."
"He's not my daddy and I'm not Jonathan!" Joe yelled at her as he was herded inside and into the living room. "My name is Joe Hardy and I want to go home!"
"Your name is Jonathan Andrew Greely and you are home," said Roger, tossing the police cap on the sofa.
"Dear, you had better get rid of that uniform," the woman told him.
"You're right," he agreed. "I'll change and then take it to the woods and burn it."
"Good," she applauded the suggestion. "I'll show Jonathan to his room."
"What about dinner, Sarah?" Roger inquired.
"I'll put it on as soon as you leave," Sarah promised. "It should be done by the time you get home."
"You're not a real cop?" Joe asked although he already knew the answer.
"No," Roger answered. "I'm a teacher."
"Come on," Sarah said, taking Joe's hand only to have him yank it away. He took off running for the front door but Roger caught him and picked him up and slung him over his shoulder.
Smack! Joe's butt screamed as Roger's palm landed on it firmly. "Hold still," Roger ordered Joe who was kicking and wiggling. Smack!
Joe whimpered but quit struggling. "Now, mind your manners and stop throwing a tantrum," Roger ordered. "I don't want to spank you but I will if you give me a reason too. Understand?"
"Yes," Joe mumbled, his emotions taking over. When Roger set him back on the floor, Joe was crying.
"Now, go with your mother," Roger ordered. "She has worked hard getting your room ready."
Sarah took Joe's hand and kissed her husband briefly on the lips. "Thank you," she said.
"You don't have to thank me," Roger told her. "I promised you a family when we got married," he said. "Just because I can't get you pregnant doesn't mean I'm not going to keep my promise."
Sarah led Joe upstairs to a bedroom that had been lovingly done for a little boy. It was light blue in color with a captain's bed in the center. A bookcase against the wall held several children's books as well as a few toys. In the floor by the bed was a Hot Wheels racetrack with a dozen cars and trucks sitting neatly in a row beside it. A table in the corner of the room held Lincoln logs and there was a toy chest a few feet to the left of that.
"I hope you like your room, Jonathan," Sarah said to Joe. "Your father and I hope you will be very happy here."
"My name is Joe!" Joe shouted at her, not in the least bit impressed with the room. He would rather play in the dirt with Frank than stay here and have all the toys he could. "And I want my mommy and daddy!"
"I am your mother," Sarah said, moving a lock of blond hair from Joe's forehead.
"No, you're not," insisted Joe. "You're a mean old lady and he's a horrible man. I want my mommy and daddy!"
"Jonathan!" Sarah snapped, her face hardening. Had she thought this was going to be easy? "Watch what you say," she ordered him. "You will not refer to your father or me as mean and you will call us mom and dad."
"No!" Joe resisted stubbornly, glaring at her. He was no longer afraid; just mad!
"Jonathan!" Sarah repeated sharply.
"My name is JOE!"
"You will answer to Jonathan and you will address me as Momma and Roger as Daddy," she repeated firmly. "Or you will stay in your room without any meals until you do." Sarah made sure Joe couldn't get out through the window then left Joe alone, closing and locking the door behind her. She would give him time to think about what she said.
***
Frank sat in the kitchen sipping his soup that was a bit too hot. For the first tine he could remember, he had been left to eat dinner alone. He frowned as he looked at the grilled cheese sandwich beside his soup. This wasn't a normal dinner, he thought. Those were family times when his parents would sit with him and Joe and ask them about their day or tell them about a case their dad had just finished. But tonight, Joe wasn't home and his parents were in the dining room, sitting around an empty table talking to the three men in suits who had invaded the house. The last time so many men had been around with Joe gone, he had been sent to stay with his aunt in an apartment with two other men and one woman. His aunt had said it was a safe house but Frank didn't know why because he hadn't found anything different about it to make it safer than his own home.
Frank let his spoon plop into his soup and got up from the table. No one had wanted him to be in the dining room while they talked but that didn't mean he couldn't listen in.
"When the kidnappers call," Agent Boone was saying, "try to keep them on the line as long as possible. The longer the call, the better the chance we will have to locate it's origin."
"What if they don't call?" Laura asked fearfully. "What if he ran away and got hurt? Or what if...what if whoever took him has... killed him?" she demanded, crying harder than ever.
Fenton put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. "Don't even think that," he ordered, kissing her forehead. "The kidnappers will call," he said with conviction. He didn't believe Joe had run away. They would have found him or someone would have seen him. "They are just waiting so we will be more worried and will be willing to do whatever they ask."
"But we aren't rich," Laura argued. "And you just finished your last case."
"True, I'm not working on anything right now," Fenton agreed. "But it could be someone I made angry while I was on the force," he said then bit his tongue when Laura's eyes widened.
"Someone took him for revenge?" she screeched. "They will kill him!" she wailed and began sobbing harder than ever.
Frank backed away from the door and sat back down. He picked up his spoon and stirred his soup, not paying any attention to the mini-whirlpools he was making. He was in shock. He thought Joe was hiding but the grown-ups all thought Joe had been kidnapped. Or worse.
Frank dropped his spoon again and bolted from the kitchen. He reached the bathroom connected to the downstairs guestroom barely in time to throw up what little he had eaten in the toilet. It was his fault. He knew it and he was sure the adults knew it too. If only he had let Joe go with him or at least walked him back home, then Joe would be here and his mom wouldn't be crying.
Frank flushed the toilet then went upstairs to the room that he shared with Joe. He sat down on the bed and looked at the mess Joe's side of the room was in. He had toys strewn everywhere and normally this irked him a little but right now, he missed hearing Joe's laughter. He missed Joe begging him to play. He missed Joe wanting to crawl in bed with him because he was afraid of the wind. He had wanted to be an only child but now that he might actually be one, the thought was depressing. Frank started crying. 'Joe looks up to me,' he thought. 'And I let him down.'
Frank got down on his knees by his bed and put his hands together like his mother had shown him. "God, momma says You listen when we talk even though we can't hear Your answers. So please, give me my brother back. I didn't mean it when I said I wanted to be an only child. If You do give him back, I promise I'll be the bestest big brother in the world. Thank You, God. Amen."
***
"Jonathan?" Roger asked, opening the door to Joe's room after he had returned from the woods. "Dinner is ready."
Joe sat cross-legged on the bed with his arms crossed, where he had been since Sarah had locked him in, and glared at Roger. "My name," he said slowly through gritted teeth, "is Joe."
"Your call," Roger said. "Goodnight, Son," he added, getting ready to close the door.
"I'm not your son!" Joe shouted, reaching behind him and grabbing the pillow. He hurled it at Roger's retreating back with all the force he could muster.
Roger froze with his hand on the doorknob. He turned slowly then pushed the door closed. "We do not throw things in this house," he said quietly.
Joe looked into Roger's hard eyes and swallowed fearfully. "I am your father whether you like it or not and you will treat me with respect. Do I make myself clear?"
"My...my daddy is Fen...Fenton Hardy," Joe stuttered, afraid but not giving ion.
"Go pick up the pillow and take it back to the bed," Roger ordered Joe.
Swallowing a lump that had lodged in his throat, Joe uncrossed his legs and got off the bed. He walked over to where the pillow lay in the floor and picked it up with his eyes never leaving Roger's face. He went back to the bed and laid it down.
"This is your first offense so I'm going to let you off this time," Roger told Joe. "But make no mistake," he continued. "Anything your previous family would not put up with, neither will we. Punishments will include, but not be limited to, spankings and groundings. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Sir," Joe answered, his blue eyes losing some of their defiance.
Roger sat down on the bed and pulled Joe close to him. With one hand on each of Joe's shoulders, Roger looked him in the eyes. "I know this is hard on you. It's hard on us too," he admitted. "But for all of our sakes, we have to accept each other and do our best to be a family."
"But..." Joe started to object but quieted down as Roger squeezed his shoulders.
"You are never going back and the sooner you can accept that the happier you will be," Roger continued. "I, personally, don't see why you want to go back anyway. Your brother didn't want you."
Joe shook his head, his blue eyes turning sad although he didn't cry. "We do want you," Roger told him. "Very, very much. So please, give us a chance?"
"But I want my mommy," Joe replied pitifully.
"Sarah is a good wife and she's going to be a great mom. You'll see," Roger told him, releasing Joe's shoulders and pulling the youth onto his lap. "Just give her a chance."
"I can't go back?" Joe asked, looking up into Roger's face.
"Never," answered Roger firmly. "Jonathan?" he asked when Joe remained quiet.
"Can...can I still be Joe?" Joe asked softly.
"A compromise?" asked Roger. "If we call you Joe, you will call us mom and dad?" Joe winced but nodded his acceptance. "It's a deal," Roger agreed and gave him a little hug. "Now, how about dinner, Son?"
"Yes, da..daddy," Joe stuttered.
***
"Hi, Sweetie," Laura said, entering the boys' bedroom a little later. "You didn't eat your dinner," she said.
"Is Joe coming back?" Frank asked, looking up into his mother's face with soulful brown eyes.
Laura took a deep breath and sniffed to hold back the tears as she sat down beside him. "Of course he is," she said, pulling him into her arms and kissing the top of his head.
"I'm sorry," Frank said, pulling back from her. "I...I didn't mean for him to get gone. I didn't mean it. I don't want to be an only child," he told her, crying. "I want Joe back."
"We all do, Son," Fenton said, entering the room and kneeling down on the floor beside the bed where Frank sat. He reached up and brushed a stray strand of hair from Frank's forehead when he turned to look at him. "And you don't have to apologize," he continued softly. "It isn't your fault."
"Yes it is," Frank replied. "He's little. I should have walked him back home or let him go with me."
"Then you might both have been taken," Fenton said. "It wasn't your fault."
"No, it was mine," Laura told him. "I should never have let either of you go so far without supervision."
"This is a safe neighborhood," Fenton said. "All the kids run loose. This isn't your fault either."
"Then whose fault is it?" demanded Frank.
"The only person we can blame is the person who took your brother," Fenton told him. "And we will find him and get your brother back."
"And punish the people who took him?" Frank asked.
"They will go to prison," promised Fenton. "Now, it's getting late. Why don't you go take a bath and get ready for bed?"
"I can't sleep," Frank vetoed the idea.
"Why not?" Laura asked.
"Joe isn't here," Frank answered, looking over at Joe's empty bed.
Laura squeezed him tight. "You can sleep with us," Laura told him. She didn't think she or Fenton would get any sleep that night but she would feel better having Frank with her.
"Okay," Frank said, standing up. Laura got up and went with Frank into the bathroom to get the bath water ready.
"How is she?" Ezra asked as Fenton came back downstairs.
"She's holding up," Fenton replied, frowning. "But Frank's blaming himself."
"That's ridiculous!" Ezra said. "He's just a little boy too. If they had been together they probably both would have been taken."
"I know," agreed Fenton. "We have to get him back," he added, looking at Ezra through haunted eyes.
***
"This is getting us nowhere!" growled Fenton the next afternoon. "Why haven't they called?"
"Mr. Hardy, please," said Agent Boone calmly. "Until we hear from the kidnappers there isn't anything we can do."
"Maybe there isn't anything you can do," Fenton said. "But there is something I can do." He stood up and called out to his son who was sitting in the living room pretending to watch a cartoon. "Frank, let's go for a walk."
"Fenton?" Laura objected.
"It's okay," he told her. "You wait here in case the kidnappers call. I am going to go with Frank around the neighborhood. Maybe we'll find something."
Agent Boone watched sadly as Fenton and Frank left the house. It was always worse for a man involved in some manner of law enforcement because they knew exactly what was going on and how little they really could do to help.
"Son, I want you to show me exactly where you left your brother," Fenton said. "And we'll start searching from there."
"You think he is hiding after all?" inquired Frank in surprise. "All night long?"
"No," Fenton admitted. "But I think if we start over, we might find some kind of clue."
Frank took his dad to the area where he had left Joe alone. "I'm sorry," Frank said, aware of how far from home they actually were at this point. "I'll never leave him again. Honest."
"I know you won't," Fenton said, ruffling Frank's hair. "Come on," he said. "Let's start asking around."
A few minutes later, Fenton crossed the street to the west instead of back toward the house. "Why are we going this way?" asked Frank.
"Because your brother might have gone this way," Fenton said.
"Because he got lost?" asked Frank.
"Maybe," Fenton answered. It was possible Joe had gotten lost trying to return home but he knew that even if he had something had happened to him after that otherwise, he would have been returned home or at least taken to the police station.
"Excuse me," Fenton said, as he and Frank approached a woman wearing a floral skirt and a yellow shirt who was sitting behind a flower stand. "Where you here yesterday by any chance?"
"Yes, Sir," the woman replied. "I'm here every day during the spring and summer."
"Did you see a small boy, five years old, with blond hair and blue eyes here yesterday?" Fenton asked.
"He's my brother," Frank added.
"Why, yes, I did," the woman admitted. "I was getting ready to close up for the day when he and a policeman stopped by here. The officer used the phone and then told the little boy that his mother said it was okay."
"Said what was okay?" asked Fenton.
"I don't know," the woman replied. "Why? Is something wrong?"
"Very much so," Fenton replied grimly. "My wife never received a call from anyone yesterday and our son never returned home."
"Oh no!" gasped the woman, lifting a hand to her lips. "And to think a police officer did something to a little boy."
"What did the officer look like?" asked Fenton.
"Blue eyes and dark blond hair," the woman said. "When he said it was all right with the boy's mother, I thought perhaps he was the boy's father."
"What else?" inquired Fenton. "How tall was he? What was the name on his uniform?"
"Richard Grimes," she said after thinking about it for a moment. "He was about the same build as you too. Maybe an inch taller," she added.
"I'm going to call the police," Fenton said. "They will want to talk to you."
***
"Joe, honey," Sarah said, reaching out and touching Joe's shoulder. "You need to eat your lunch."
"I'm not hungry," Joe replied, not looking at her.
"But you hardly touched your dinner last night and you didn't eat breakfast this morning either," she objected. "You're going to get sick if you don't eat something."
Joe started crying silently but didn't speak. "Joe," Roger said. "Eat your lunch."
"I'm not..."
"I don't want to hear it," Roger informed him. "Eat your sandwich if nothing else," he ordered.
Joe picked up the peanut butter and jelly sandwich and took a bite. It tasted like cardboard but he forced himself to eat it and finished his milk. "May I be excused now?" he asked, not looking at either of the adults.
"No," Roger replied. "We are going for a drive after Sarah and I finish."
"I don't want..."
"Stop it," commanded Roger. "You are a part of this family and you will participate in family outings."
"Yes, Sir," Joe replied softly.
"And stop crying," Sarah added. "If you will just try you'll have a good time. I promise."
"Why did you bring me here?" Joe asked. "Why won't you let me go home?"
"I brought you here because your real family didn't want you anymore," Roger told Joe.
"No," Joe refused to believe him. He shook his head frantically. "That's not true! Only Frank..."
"Your brother told you he wanted to be an only child because he had heard your parents say they wished they had stopped after one child," Roger continued to lie to Joe. "They didn't want you either. We do. They knew that. Your daddy told me to dress like a cop to get you to talk to me when I picked you up."
"No," Joe whispered, his blue eyes wide with shock.
"Yes," Sarah told him, laying a hand on his arm. "Baby, please? We want you to be happy. They didn't want you but we do. Please, give us a chance?"
"I...I..." Joe broke off and burst into tears. Sarah pulled him into her arms and held him, saying soothing words and patting his head gently as he sobbed. It wasn't long before he fell asleep.
Roger got up and took him from her and carried him to his room and laid him on the bed. He kissed the top of Joe's head. "We'll go on our outing after you've had some rest," he whispered, not sure if the child could hear him or not. "Sleep well, Son."
***
"Fenton, this is Officer Grimes," Ezra introduced the officer with him to Fenton later that evening at the Hardy home. Officer Grimes was a man in his late twenties with jet-black curls and brown eyes who stood a good three inches shorter than Fenton.
Fenton's face fell. "Someone broke into my house and stole one of my uniforms two weeks ago," Grimes informed Fenton. "Ezra told me about your son. I'm so sorry."
"Was anything else taken?" inquired Fenton.
"Yes," acknowledged Grimes. "My television, and some money that I had lying on the dresser. But that was pretty much it."
"Any leads on who broke in?" Fenton inquired, thinking the items were taken just so the police wouldn't think it odd that the uniform was taken.
"None," Ezra answered. "There weren't any fingerprints and the intruder entered through the kitchen door after breaking a window and unlocking the door. It happened while Grimes was working."
"Did your wife see anything?" asked Fenton.
"I'm not married," Grimes answered.
Fenton turned to Ezra. "I want to talk to the chief," he said. "I want to handle the break-in."
"Are you sure?" Ezra asked.
"Whoever broke into Grimes' place also kidnapped my son," Fenton said. "If I can find out whom, then I can find my son."
"When do you want to start?" Ezra asked. He had already cleared it with Chief McIntosh because he had an idea Fenton would want to handle the investigation.
"Now."
***
"Hi, Joe," Sarah said, entering Joe's room later that afternoon. "How are you feeling?"
"Okay, I guess," Joe replied sadly.
"Want to go for that ride now?" she asked him. "Wouldn't it be nice to get out of the house for a little while?"
"Yes, Ma'am er...mom," Joe replied. He still didn't feel comfortable calling her mom but it was becoming obvious he didn't have a choice. If his own dad had told Roger to dress like a police officer so he would trust him, then he guessed Roger was telling the truth. His family didn't want him.
Sarah took his hand and led him downstairs. "We're ready, honey," Sarah told Roger.
"Wonderful," Roger said smiling. "Where shall we go?"
"Let's take him to meet my parents," suggested Sarah. "Would you like to meet your new grandparents?" she asked Joe.
"Yes, please," Joe answered, giving her a shy smile.
"Run on out to the car and get in the backseat," Roger told Joe.
"Okay," agreed Joe and moved ahead of them out the front door.
"Sarah, are you sure?" Roger demanded. "They know we don't have any kids."
"I told them we were adopting," Sarah informed him.
"What if they recognize him?" Roger asked. "You know his picture is going to be in the paper."
"My folks don't read the paper," Sarah told him. "Mom says there's too much bad news and with Dad's bad heart she doesn't want him reading it. It will be okay," she assured him.
"Okay," Roger agreed. "Make sure he's buckled in."
***
"Where are you going?" Frank asked his dad as he started to leave the house.
"You remember what the lady told us about the police officer that was with Joe?" Fenton asked Frank. Frank nodded. "Well, the uniform the man was wearing was stolen," Fenton informed Frank. "If I can find out who stole the real Officer Grimes' uniform then I can find out who took Joe."
"And bring him home?" asked Frank.
"Of course," Fenton replied.
"Tonight?" asked Frank.
Fenton sighed and picked Frank up into his arms. "I doubt it will be tonight," Fenton admitted honestly. "But I am not going to quit until I find your brother," he added. "I promise."
"Can I help?" asked Frank.
"You can make sure your mother eats something," Fenton told him. "She is going to get sick if she doesn't."
"I'll make her eat something," promised Frank. "If she's sick then she won't know when Joe gets home," he reasoned. "And then Joe will feel even worser for not being here."
"You are entirely right," agreed Fenton, sitting the youth back down. "And please, stay inside while I'm gone?"
"I will," promised Frank. "And Daddy," he added, tugging on his father's arm as he turned to leave. "Tell Joe I'm sorry and I love having him for a brother when you find him?" he asked when his dad turned to look at him.
"I will, baby," Fenton said, bending down and giving Frank a hug and kiss before leaving.
***
Fenton drove to the police station and was allowed access to all the information and evidence gathered by the Bayport police force concerning the break-in and robbery at Grime's address. After reviewing the report that had been filed he looked through the evidence and sighed. There wasn't much to go on, but he would do his best. He left the police station a determined man.
It was nearing nine o'clock when Fenton reached Grimes' neighborhood but instead of being deterred, he found it to be a positive thing because more people were at home at this time of evening. Pulling out the composite picture made from the flower vendor's description, Fenton began knocking on doors and asking people to look at the picture.
An hour later, Fenton was losing hope. He knocked on yet another door. "Hello, my name is Fenton Hardy," he greeted the person who answered the door. "I'm a private investigator and I am looking into the break-in that occurred in this neighborhood a few weeks ago. I was wondering if you could take a look at this picture and tell me if you have seen this man or someone who resembles him in this area?"
"Sure," agreed the gangly young man, accepting the piece of paper from Fenton. "Yeah, I've seen him."
"Where?" inquired Fenton, his heart racing with newfound hope.
"Down the street," the man informed Fenton. "He was getting into a white Camry."
"Can you tell me anything else about the man or the car?" Fenton inquired. "Anything at all?" he demanded, his desperation showing through.
"First case?" asked the man, grinning at Fenton. "You seem all excited."
"No," denied Fenton. "This man abducted my son yesterday."
"Oh, geez. I'm so sorry," the man returned. "Let me think," he said, closing his eyes. "I've got a photographic memory but it helps to close my eyes when I try to remember," he explained.
Fenton waited silently for the man to speak. "The car had a little dent in the driver's door and there was an air freshener shaped like a leaf hanging on the rearview mirror. I didn't see the tag number but there was a bumper sticker that said something about Tomlin Elementary School on it," he added, opening his eyes and looking into Fenton's brown ones. "Oh, and the guy was wearing a pair of brown cords and a white button-up shirt with the top two buttons undone."
***
"So, Joe, how did you like your grandparents?" asked Roger when they returned home.
"They are nice," Joe replied.
"Your mother and I were very proud of you tonight," Roger continued. "You behaved very well."
"Thank you," Joe replied politely.
"For a reward, how about some ice cream before you take your bath?" asked Sarah.
"No, thank you," Joe answered. It was ice cream that had gotten him into this mess. He didn't think he would ever want ice cream again!
"Then how about a bedtime story after your bath?" Roger asked.
"Yes, please," Joe replied.
"Go give your father a hug and then we'll get you in the tub," Sarah ordered Joe.
Plastering a smile on his face, Joe went up to Roger and hugged his neck then returned to Sarah and let her lead him upstairs. Roger watched them retreat and frowned. Joe was by far too polite to have accepted them as his parents yet. "But in time," he murmured. "In time." He only hoped it was before Joe had to attend school. It would look funny if his son were home schooled when his father taught first grade.
***
Two hours later, with Joe asleep in his room, Sarah and Roger turned out the lights and went to bed. Less than fifteen minutes after falling asleep, they were awakened by noises coming from Joe's room. "No," Joe mumbled, tossing and kicking his cover onto the floor. "No!" he screamed, still in the throe of his night terror.
Roger and Sarah came running into Joe's room and saw him thrashing about. Roger flipped on the light as Sarah ran to the bed and tried to awaken Joe.
"No!" Joe shouted as Sarah touched him. "No! No! No! Please don't make me go!" he screamed through a flood of tears.
"Shh!" Sarah said, pulling Joe into her arms. "It's okay, baby. No one is going to make you go anywhere."
"No!" screamed Joe, struggling against her embrace. "Mommy! " he shouted. "Daddy!"
"We're right here, Son," Roger said, sitting down on the bed beside Sarah and reaching for the distraught boy.
"No!" Joe shouted again, wide awake now. "I want my real mommy and daddy!"
"They didn't want you," Roger reminded Joe, trying to get him to calm down. "Your daddy asked me to take you."
"LIKE HELL I DID!"
***
Fenton checked with the rest of the houses in Grimes' neighborhood but no one else was able to be of any help. Returning to his car he considered going home to tell Laura and Frank about his new lead but vetoed the idea hoping, instead, he could locate Joe first. He knew he should let Agent Boone know but the father in him was telling him that the FBI would go strictly by the book and he wasn't sure that was the best thing for his son at this point.
He started the car and headed for Tomlin. Almost an hour later he came to a stop in front of the Tomlin Police Department and went inside. After introducing himself and showing his credentials to the sergeant at the front desk, Fenton was escorted to the office of Detective-Sergeant Peter Nelson and told to wait.
"Mr. Hardy?" Nelson inquired, entering his office a couple of minutes later.
Fenton stood to greet the man. Nelson was a full six foot two with broad shoulders, dark brown hair and deep green eyes. "Sergeant Nickelson said you were working on a kidnapping?"
"My son," Fenton admitted. "This man abducted him yesterday afternoon." He handed the composite to Nelson. "He was seen a few weeks prior to the abduction driving a white Camry with a leaf air freshener and a Tomlin Elementary School bumper sticker on it."
"I'll see what we can come up with," Nelson promised, leaving the office.
The detective returned to his office in less than an hour with a search warrant in his hand. "One of our men recognized him," he informed Fenton. "His name is Roger Greely and he teaches first grade at the elementary school here."
"Let's go" Fenton said, his impatience getting the better of him.
"I think it would be best if you remained here," Nelson said, frowning at Fenton. Even though he detected a hardness in the man he was the boy's father and that could lead to trouble.
"Absolutely not," refused Fenton. "Look," he continued, running a hand through his mane of wavy brown hair. "I used to be a detective-lieutenant with the New York City Police Department," he said. "I do know how this type of operation is handled. Joe is my son," he stressed. "The only way to prevent me from accompanying you is to arrest me."
"All right," Nelson gave in, realizing immediately that Hardy was not bluffing. "But you stay behind me."
"Agreed," concurred Fenton. "Can we go now?"
Nelson and Fenton met up with two more officers outside. "I want you two on the backside of the house," Nelson ordered the men. "Remember, Grimes is a respected member of this town and this search warrant means he is a suspect only. There is no proof of his guilt." Nelson looked at Fenton as he said this. Fenton rolled his eyes but remained quiet.
By the time they reached the Greely residence it was well after ten p.m. and all the lights were out. "I guess they went to bed early," Nelson commented to Fenton as they got out of the unmarked car.
Fenton grabbed Nelson's arm and pointed to the driveway where the Camry was parked. It fit the description he had been given down to the leaf shaped air freshener. Nelson's face hardened. He had been hoping that Hardy's information was wrong but the description fit perfectly. The two walked up to the front door. Nelson raised his hand to knock but paused as the lawn near them lit up with the glow from a window where a light had been turned on.
Fenton hurried over and peered in the window. "Joe," he whispered. He raced back to the front door and kicked it open before Nelson could prevent him. He raced inside to the room with a light emanating from it and came to a full stop in the doorway. He heard Greely tell Joe that he had asked him to take Joe away and...he snapped.
"LIKE HELL I DID!" thundered Fenton, barging into the room with Nelson and the other two officers on his heels. He grabbed Greely up by the collar of his shirt and brought back his right fist. In a move swift as lightening, he hit Greely in the face with a force so strong the man went crashing into the wall after tripping over the racetrack on the floor.
His eyes so dark they were almost black, Fenton advanced on him again only to be stopped by Nelson and one of the officers. Fenton started to shake them off and go after Greely again but was stopped by one word from the child on the bed.
"Daddy?"
Fenton spun around, his eyes softening and tearing up as he looked at the little boy he loved so much. "Joseph," he said softly moving forward as he was released.
"No!" Sarah snarled, jumping up and standing between Fenton and Joe. "Stay away from my son!" she screamed at him.
Fenton's eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared. He had never hit a woman before but he was more than willing to start with this one.
Nelson snapped an order and Sarah was pulled roughly from Fenton's sight. Fenton fell to the bed beside Joe as the Greelys were read their rights.
Joe looked up into his daddy's eyes, his own scared and filled with pain. "Baby," Fenton whispered, reaching out and touching Joe's cheek. "Are you okay?"
"You...you told them to take me away," accused Joe,
"No, baby," denied Fenton. "Never. They lied to you."
"They did?" Joe asked, his eyes reflecting a glimmer of hope.
"Of course they did," Fenton said, pulling Joe into his arms and squeezing his so tight that Joe could barely breathe. "I love you so much," he said. "Your mother, nor I, ever want you to be away from us."
"Frank does," Joe sadly, hugging his father back and not complaining because of the tight grip.
"No, he doesn't," Fenton told him, kissing the top of Joe's head. "He told me to tell you that he was sorry and he didn't mean what he said."
"Really?" asked Joe.
"Really," Fenton answered. He kissed Joe's forehead. "I love you, Joe," he said.
"I love you too, Daddy," Joe said, giving his dad a tenuous smile. "Can we go home now?" he asked. "I don't like it here."
"Me neither," Fenton concurred in a conspiratorial whisper. He stood up and carried Joe outside.
"I suppose you want to get your son home as soon as possible," Nelson said. He had followed the two outside.
"Please," acknowledged Fenton. "I will come back and press charges tomorrow," he added as another patrol car arrived on the scene.
"Wait here," ordered Nelson. He went to talk with the officer who exited the vehicle. When he returned, he had the officer with him. "Officer Bryant will return you to the police station," Nelson said. "I will expect you tomorrow afternoon?"
Fenton nodded. "Thank you," he said gratefully, hugging Joe again. Nelson smiled as father and son moved away. He had thought Hardy was too hard a man when he had first met him but now he could see it had been a charade to keep anyone from knowing how terrified he had been. As he watched Fenton Hardy get into the squad car he had the feeling that this was one young detective that was going to set the world on fire.
***
Fenton pulled to a stop in his driveway on Elm Street and got out. He opened the rear door and unbuckled Joe who stirred but did not awaken. He lifted Joe out and enjoyed the warmth that he knew came from knowing his son was safe and where he belonged. As Fenton climbed the steps to the front door, the screen door opened and Agent Boone stood silhouetted in the doorway.
Boone opened the screen for Fenton to enter with Joe. "Tomlin PD called Bayport PD and they called us," Boone said, smiling at Fenton. "You did good."
"I had too," Fenton stated without pride or modesty.
"Laura and Frank are asleep upstairs in your room," Boone informed him. "I haven't told them about Joe. I thought it would be best if they could see for themselves."
"Thank you," Fenton replied gratefully.
"Anytime," Boone replied. "We've moved all of our equipment out already so we won't have to bother you again."
Fenton held Joe tucked safely on one arm with Joe's head resting on his shoulder as he locked the door after the agent had left. He went into the kitchen, turned on the alarm, then carried Joe upstairs to the room he shared with his wife.
He considered waking them up but he knew how tired Joe was and could see the effect the past 36 hours had had on his wife. Even Frank looked dead to the world. No. He would not awaken them. He kicked off his shoes and laid Joe down on the bed gently beside his older brother before lying down on Joe's other side and falling asleep.
The next morning, Frank tried to raise his arm but something heavy was lying on it. He opened his eyes to see what was pinning him down. "JOE!" Frank shouted, throwing his free arm around his brother. Joe moved slightly, freeing Frank's other arm that Frank promptly threw around Joe, giving him a tight hug.
"Joe," gasped Laura, sitting up as Fenton opened his eyes. "Baby!" she screamed, pulling both Joe and Frank, because he hadn't yet released his younger brother, into her arms. She sat there crying. Fenton reached out and brushed a tear from her cheek.
"You should have wakened me," she said, glaring accusingly at her husband.
"Joe slept the entire trip home," Fenton told her. "He was exhausted."
"Where were you?" demanded Frank, releasing Joe as his mother released them.
"Tell everything," commanded Laura of Fenton.
"The policeman wasn't a policeman," Joe said. "He took me home with him."
"What?" demanded Laura.
"Greely, a teacher at Tomlin Elementary, kidnapped Joe to make him his son," Fenton explained.
"He saided daddy told him to dress like a policeman so I would go with him," Joe said softly.
"Your father would never do that!" Laura told Joe. Surely he didn't believe that?
"Greely obviously stole Officer Grimes' uniform because he knew children are taught to trust the police even when they are taught to avoid strangers," Fenton said.
"He saided you didn't want me," Joe said, looking at Frank accusingly.
"I'm sorry, Joe," Frank apologized earnestly. "I didn't mean what I said 'bout wanting to be an only child. I like having you around. And I promise, I will never, ever say anything like that ever again," he continued. "You'll see," Frank said, putting an arm around Joe's shoulders and looking into his blue eyes with an intensity that startled their parents. "I'll take care of you. I'm going to be the bestest big brother ever!"
"Honest?" Joe asked, tilting his head sideways and looking at Frank as if he didn't quite believe him.
"Honest," Frank repeated the word solemnly.
"But what if your friends don't want me hanging around?" asked Joe.
"Then they aren't my friends," Frank answered promptly. "You come first. Now and forever."
Joe looked at Frank for a brief instant more and, deciding to believe him, broke into a huge grin and hugged Frank as tightly as he could. "I won't have any friends that don't like you either," he promised.
"Deal," Frank said, taking Joe's hand in his and shaking it.
Laura lifted a hand to her mouth to stop herself from making a sound as she shed tears of relief and joy. Something good had come from all the horror of the past two days. Her sons had truly bonded and she had a feeling that it was a bond that, although would be tested, would never be broken.
End
"You may," Laura said, smiling at the adorable brown-headed boy who resembled his father. "His mother called me a little while ago and said Phil was going to ask you."
Frank's brown eyes lit up as he looked into his mother's blue ones. "Thanks!" he said and took off through the backdoor without another word.
"Can I go too?" asked Joe, looking into his mom's eyes with matching blue ones.
Laura reached over and ruffled Joe's blond locks. "You may," she agreed. "But only if it's okay with your brother."
"Thanks!" Joe shouted, running out the door.
Joe saw Frank at the end of the street. "Hey!" he shouted, following Frank across the street when Frank never stopped. "Wait up!" Joe shouted louder. "Mom said I could go with you!"
Frank stopped at the next crosswalk and turned around. He glared at Joe with hard brown eyes and a scowl on his face. "Go home!" he ordered the younger boy.
"No," refused Joe stubbornly. "Mom said I could go with you to Phil's."
"I don't want you to go with me," Frank cut him off. "I'm six years old. I don't want some baby following me everywhere I go."
"But..." Joe tried to speak again, his blue eyes reflecting the hurt he felt but Frank never gave him a chance.
"Go home!" ordered Frank again, turning and walking further away. "And stop following me everywhere I go!"
"No!" Joe refused, catching up to Frank again.
"Leave me alone!" Frank shouted at him, turning around and glaring at his brother. He threw his arms up in the air in frustration. "Why do you even have to be here?" he demanded. "Why couldn't I have been an only child?" He turned again and took off for Phil's at a run, leaving Joe alone almost three blocks from home.
Joe watched Frank until he was out of sight before turning around. He started walking, looking at the ground and using the back of his hand to swipe at his eyes.
"Hey, little fella." Startled, Joe stopped and looked up when a pair of shoes stepped into his line of sight. "What's wrong?"
Joe sniffed and wiped his eyes again. "No...nothing," he said. He wasn't supposed to talk to strangers but the man was wearing a policeman's uniform and he knew it was okay to talk to them. After all, his daddy used to be a police officer until last year when he had become a private investigator and moved his family to Bayport.
"It's not nice to fib," the officer said, falling to one knee so he could look into the child's face. "I'm Officer Greely," he introduced himself. "What's your name?"
"Joe," Joe answered.
"Well, Joe, how can I help you if I don't know what's wrong?" Greely asked kindly.
Joe looked into the man's pale blue eyes thoughtfully. Deciding his dad would not be proud of him if he didn't, Joe told the officer about following Frank and about Frank saying he wished he were an only child.
"I'm sure he didn't mean it," Officer Greely said, pushing a lock of blond hair away from Joe's eyes.
"Yes, he did," Joe insisted, fresh tears sliding down his cheeks.
"Tell you what," the officer said. "Why don't we go get you an ice cream cone?" he asked, standing up and smiling down at Joe. "That will make you fell a little better."
"I can't," Joe replied. "I have to go home."
"But I can't let you go home still sad," Officer Greely said. "How would it look if one of Bayport's finest couldn't help a young man in distress?"
"I'm not wearing a dress!" Joe shouted indignantly.
Officer Greely laughed. "Distress," he repeated. "It means in trouble or, in your case, troubled," he explained. "I know," he continued. "Why don't we go the payphone on the next block and call your parents?" he suggested, pointing to another crosswalk in a different direction from where Joe lived.
"Okay," agreed Joe and gave the officer his phone number.
Officer Greely took Joe's hand in his and they crossed the street. "Why don't you look at the pretty flowers while I call your mom?" he suggested. Joe walked away as the officer picked up the phone.
A couple of minutes later Officer Greely hung up the phone and walked over to where the woman selling the flowers was talking to Joe. "Your mom said it would be all right," he told Joe. "Ready?" Joe put his hand in the officer's and together the two walked down the street toward town.
Two blocks down, Officer Greely came to a stop beside a white four-door car. "We'll drive the rest of the way," he told Joe, opening up the passenger door for him.
"Why aren't you driving a police car?" asked Joe curiously.
"It's an unmarked police car," Joe was informed. "Now climb in," Greely ordered. "We don't want to keep you too long or your mother might get upset."
Joe climbed in the car and buckled up as the officer got in on the other side. Joe watched with anticipation out his window as they passed the various houses and businesses on the way to the shop but when they passed the ice cream parlor, Joe began to get nervous. "You passed it," he complained.
"There's a new place just another mile ahead," the officer informed Joe calmly. "It's okay," he added. "I told your mother that I was taking you to the new one."
Joe sat quietly and continued to watch outside. He didn't know how long a mile was but they had been driving a long time and had left town were now on the highway. "I changed my mind," Joe said. "I don't want any ice cream."
"Sure you do," the officer returned.
"No, I don't," insisted Joe. "I want to go home."
"If you're sure?" Greely asked, casting a sidelong glance at the youth.
"Yes, please," Joe replied politely.
"Okay, then," agreed Greely.
"Are we going to turn around now?" asked Joe when they kept going.
"No."
"Why not?" Joe wanted to know. "This isn't the way home."
"It's the way to my home," Greely informed him. "You're going to be living with me from now on."
***
"Hello, Patricia," Laura said when Phil's mom answered the phone.
"Hi, Laura," Patricia returned. "Thank you for letting Frank come over. Phil's been so hyper today I was ready to pull my hair out."
"You're more than welcome," Laura replied with a laugh. "I was just calling to make sure the boys got there okay."
"Boys?" queried Patricia.
"Umm-hmm," Laura answered, a ball of fear growing inside of her. "Joe followed Frank out of the door. Even if he didn't catch up to him, Joe should be there by now."
"Frank's been here for about fifteen minutes," Patricia said. "But I haven't seen Joe."
"Oh God!" Laura moaned fearfully. "Put Frank on, please?"
"Hold on," Patricia told her then stepped out onto the back porch. "Frank, your mother is on the phone. She wants to talk to you."
"Great," grumbled Frank, standing up and looking down at Phil with a scowl. "I probably have to go back home now because I wouldn't let Joe tag along." Frank walked slowly across the lawn and up the steps.
Patricia led the way inside and handed Frank the telephone. "Frank, have you seen your brother since you left here?" Laura demanded, trying hard not to reveal the panic she felt.
"Yes, ma'am," answered Frank. Laura breathed a heavy sigh of relief. "But I sent him back home," he added, causing her to grip the phone so tight her knuckles turned white. "I wanted to play with Phil without having to watch out for Joe," he explained.
"Did..." Laura began but had to stop and swallow because her throat was extremely dry. "Did you watch Joe come home?" she asked him.
"No, ma'am," Frank answered.
"Did he follow you all of the way?" she asked desperately.
"No," Frank said. "We were in front of Mrs. Bumgarner's house when I left him."
"Okay, dear," Laura said in a trembling voice. "Would you please put Mrs. Cohen back on the phone now?"
"Are you mad at me?" asked Frank.
"No, dear," Laura said. 'Disappointed,' she thought. 'But not mad.'
"Laura?" Patricia was back on the phone.
"Can you keep Frank there for awhile?" asked Laura.
"Sure," agreed Patricia at once. "He can stay the night if you need him too?"
"Thank you," said Laura. "But I will pick him up later. I'm sure the police will want to talk to him."
"You really think something's happened to Joe?" Patricia asked fearfully.
"I hope not," Laura answered. "But I've got to try and find him now. Thanks," she said and hung up.
Laura exited the house and called out to Colleen Mills, their next door neighbor. "Colleen, would you please keep an eye out for Joe?" she asked. "And if he shows up, hang on to him?"
"Surely," agreed Colleen. "Is there a problem?"
"Joe was supposed to go to the Cohen's but he never showed up," Laura admitted. "I'm going to look for him."
"Don't worry," Colleen said, smiling. "He probably just got sidetracked. You know the attention span of a five-year-old."
"I hope you're right," said Laura, the worried frown never leaving her face.
Laura stopped at every house between her's and the Cohen's and asked about Joe but no one had seen him about today. Walking into the Cohen's backyard, she had never felt so scared in all of her life.
"Mom, what's wrong?" demanded Frank, running up to her. He had seen her coming and the look on her face upset him to say the least.
"I can't find your brother," Laura told him truthfully.
"He didn't go back home?" asked Frank. Laura shook her head. "I bet he's just hiding," said Frank. "I kind of made him mad."
"How?" asked Laura, hoping that was exactly what Joe was doing. Frank bit his bottom lip. He didn't want to tell his mom what he had said to Joe but he knew he didn't have a choice so he let it all out.
"You said what?" Laura gasped in shock.
"I said I wished I were an only child," Frank admitted. "I just wanted some time to do things without that baby hanging around," he explained. "Anyway, that's probably why he's hiding. He just wanted to get me into trouble for not letting him come with me."
"Maybe," Laura said, not wanting to waste time arguing or lecturing. "But you know where he would hide if he were hiding, right?" she asked. Frank nodded. "Will you show me?"
Frank bit his bottom lip. Sure, he wanted to hang out with his friends instead of his brother but to tell on him or give away his secrets, that was just something a guy didn't do.
Laura could tell Frank was torn between loyalty to his brother and her so she arranged a compromise. "How about if I walk with you close to where you think he might be and then you can go check while I wait?"
"Okay," Frank agreed with the plan. "See you later," he told Phil, taking his mom's hand and pulling her away.
"Thanks!" Laura shouted to Patricia who was watching from the porch.
"Good luck!" Patricia shouted. "Let me know if we can help," she volunteered hers and her husband's services.
Frank led his mom to a large tree on Phil's block and stopped. "Wait here," he told her then ran past the tree and into some bushes. He came back out a few seconds later. "Not there," he announced.
Their next two stops were after they had crossed the first street heading back home but Joe wasn't at either of those places. Scowling, Frank led his mom back to their street. He had hoped Joe was hiding on the block he had left him on but since he wasn't, Frank was going to have to take a chance on his mom discovering their secret hideouts close to home. Frank went for the first place all set to tear into Joe once he found him.
Thirty minutes later, Frank came out from under the back porch and shook his head at his mother. "Maybe at the next one," she said hopefully.
"That was the last one," Frank informed her. "He musta found a new hiding place."
Laura began shedding silent tears. "Go on inside and wash up," she instructed Frank. "I need to make a phone call," she added, following him up the steps and into the house.
"Momma, don't cry," Frank begged, silently vowing to make Joe pay for upsetting their mother this much.
"It's okay, dear," Laura told him, trying to smile at him. "Run along, now."
As Frank ran up the steps to the bathroom, Laura picked up the phone and called the Bayport Police Department. "My name is Laura Hardy and I live at five seventy one Elm Street," she identified herself. "My five-year-old son has been missing for over an hour and I've looked all over the neighborhood."
***
"Fenton!" called out Detective-Lieutenant Ezra Collig as he started down the steps outside of the police station.
Fenton Hardy, a man in his middle twenties and recently resigned from the New Your City Police Department, had just exited the building prior to Ezra and was on his way to a green sedan parked across the street when he heard his friend call to him. He stopped and turned to wait; his detective instincts kicking into overdrive as Ezra neared. "What is it?" Fenton demanded. "What's wrong?"
"Laura just called," Ezra informed him. "Joe's missing."
Joe's missing. The words called forth a wave of terror as Fenton remembered the last time his son was missing. On Joe's fourth birthday he had taken Laura and the boys to the carnival. They were almost ready to go home when Frank had begged for one more ride on the roller coaster. Joe hadn't wanted to go so while he accompanied Frank on the ride, Laura had taken Joe into the funhouse where he had gotten separated from her. When Fenton and Frank got off the ride they had gone to the funhouse in time to hear Laura's terrified voice telling the carney at the entrance that Joe was missing.
One member of a gang he and his partner, Sam Peterson, had been tracking had kidnapped Joe. The men used Joe as a hostage to keep him from working on the case. Even now with Joe once again missing, he had to smile when he thought of how his four-year-old son had tricked his captors and locked them in the basement of the house they had been using as a hideout. Joe had locked them in and then used the phone to call the police and tell them the phone number. It had taken less than an hour to trace the number and locate Joe and the men but it had seemed like an eternity. Long enough for Fenton to decide to quit the police force and move his family out of the big city and into a small town where they would be safe. Or so he had believed.
"Fenton," Ezra said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Let me drive." Ezra knew that Fenton valued his family above everyone and everything. There wasn't anything he wouldn't do for his wife or sons. It was with this knowledge that he knew Fenton, although seemingly calm, was about to fall apart.
The two men climbed into Ezra's car and hurried to the Hardy home. "Fenton!" Laura screamed, running down the steps and throwing herself in his arms after he exited the vehicle. "Joe's gone!"
Fenton hugged his wife tight. "Where's Frank?" he demanded, fear he might lose both sons surfacing.
"Inside," Laura answered. "Joe was following Frank to Phil's but Frank sent him back home only....he never came back," she explained, fresh tears gliding down her cheeks.
"Stay here," Fenton told her. "We'll find him." He and Ezra searched the neighborhood, calling out Joe's name and enlisting the aid of some of the people who were home, but Joe was nowhere to be found.
With a heavy heart, Fenton followed Ezra back to Elm Street. Ezra called Dispatch and put out an alert for Joe then escorted Fenton inside. "The chief is getting in touch with the FBI," Ezra informed Fenton and Laura. "They will be here soon."
***
"I want to go home!" demanded Joe stubbornly even though his eyes were filled with fear.
"We are home," Greely informed Joe, pulling to a stop in the drive of a modest ranch house. Greely unbuckled his belt then reached over and released Joe before opening the door and getting out, pulling Joe along with him.
Joe began pulling away but Greely gripped Joe's arm tightly, causing the youth to wince. "Stop it!" Greely ordered.
The front door of the house opened and a woman with short blond hair and hazel eyes looked at Joe in delight. "Oh, Roger," she breathed. "He's wonderful!"
"Let...me...go," Joe growled, pulling harder with each word.
"That's enough, Jonathan," snapped the woman, looking at Joe sternly. "Stop fighting with your father."
"He's not my daddy and I'm not Jonathan!" Joe yelled at her as he was herded inside and into the living room. "My name is Joe Hardy and I want to go home!"
"Your name is Jonathan Andrew Greely and you are home," said Roger, tossing the police cap on the sofa.
"Dear, you had better get rid of that uniform," the woman told him.
"You're right," he agreed. "I'll change and then take it to the woods and burn it."
"Good," she applauded the suggestion. "I'll show Jonathan to his room."
"What about dinner, Sarah?" Roger inquired.
"I'll put it on as soon as you leave," Sarah promised. "It should be done by the time you get home."
"You're not a real cop?" Joe asked although he already knew the answer.
"No," Roger answered. "I'm a teacher."
"Come on," Sarah said, taking Joe's hand only to have him yank it away. He took off running for the front door but Roger caught him and picked him up and slung him over his shoulder.
Smack! Joe's butt screamed as Roger's palm landed on it firmly. "Hold still," Roger ordered Joe who was kicking and wiggling. Smack!
Joe whimpered but quit struggling. "Now, mind your manners and stop throwing a tantrum," Roger ordered. "I don't want to spank you but I will if you give me a reason too. Understand?"
"Yes," Joe mumbled, his emotions taking over. When Roger set him back on the floor, Joe was crying.
"Now, go with your mother," Roger ordered. "She has worked hard getting your room ready."
Sarah took Joe's hand and kissed her husband briefly on the lips. "Thank you," she said.
"You don't have to thank me," Roger told her. "I promised you a family when we got married," he said. "Just because I can't get you pregnant doesn't mean I'm not going to keep my promise."
Sarah led Joe upstairs to a bedroom that had been lovingly done for a little boy. It was light blue in color with a captain's bed in the center. A bookcase against the wall held several children's books as well as a few toys. In the floor by the bed was a Hot Wheels racetrack with a dozen cars and trucks sitting neatly in a row beside it. A table in the corner of the room held Lincoln logs and there was a toy chest a few feet to the left of that.
"I hope you like your room, Jonathan," Sarah said to Joe. "Your father and I hope you will be very happy here."
"My name is Joe!" Joe shouted at her, not in the least bit impressed with the room. He would rather play in the dirt with Frank than stay here and have all the toys he could. "And I want my mommy and daddy!"
"I am your mother," Sarah said, moving a lock of blond hair from Joe's forehead.
"No, you're not," insisted Joe. "You're a mean old lady and he's a horrible man. I want my mommy and daddy!"
"Jonathan!" Sarah snapped, her face hardening. Had she thought this was going to be easy? "Watch what you say," she ordered him. "You will not refer to your father or me as mean and you will call us mom and dad."
"No!" Joe resisted stubbornly, glaring at her. He was no longer afraid; just mad!
"Jonathan!" Sarah repeated sharply.
"My name is JOE!"
"You will answer to Jonathan and you will address me as Momma and Roger as Daddy," she repeated firmly. "Or you will stay in your room without any meals until you do." Sarah made sure Joe couldn't get out through the window then left Joe alone, closing and locking the door behind her. She would give him time to think about what she said.
***
Frank sat in the kitchen sipping his soup that was a bit too hot. For the first tine he could remember, he had been left to eat dinner alone. He frowned as he looked at the grilled cheese sandwich beside his soup. This wasn't a normal dinner, he thought. Those were family times when his parents would sit with him and Joe and ask them about their day or tell them about a case their dad had just finished. But tonight, Joe wasn't home and his parents were in the dining room, sitting around an empty table talking to the three men in suits who had invaded the house. The last time so many men had been around with Joe gone, he had been sent to stay with his aunt in an apartment with two other men and one woman. His aunt had said it was a safe house but Frank didn't know why because he hadn't found anything different about it to make it safer than his own home.
Frank let his spoon plop into his soup and got up from the table. No one had wanted him to be in the dining room while they talked but that didn't mean he couldn't listen in.
"When the kidnappers call," Agent Boone was saying, "try to keep them on the line as long as possible. The longer the call, the better the chance we will have to locate it's origin."
"What if they don't call?" Laura asked fearfully. "What if he ran away and got hurt? Or what if...what if whoever took him has... killed him?" she demanded, crying harder than ever.
Fenton put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. "Don't even think that," he ordered, kissing her forehead. "The kidnappers will call," he said with conviction. He didn't believe Joe had run away. They would have found him or someone would have seen him. "They are just waiting so we will be more worried and will be willing to do whatever they ask."
"But we aren't rich," Laura argued. "And you just finished your last case."
"True, I'm not working on anything right now," Fenton agreed. "But it could be someone I made angry while I was on the force," he said then bit his tongue when Laura's eyes widened.
"Someone took him for revenge?" she screeched. "They will kill him!" she wailed and began sobbing harder than ever.
Frank backed away from the door and sat back down. He picked up his spoon and stirred his soup, not paying any attention to the mini-whirlpools he was making. He was in shock. He thought Joe was hiding but the grown-ups all thought Joe had been kidnapped. Or worse.
Frank dropped his spoon again and bolted from the kitchen. He reached the bathroom connected to the downstairs guestroom barely in time to throw up what little he had eaten in the toilet. It was his fault. He knew it and he was sure the adults knew it too. If only he had let Joe go with him or at least walked him back home, then Joe would be here and his mom wouldn't be crying.
Frank flushed the toilet then went upstairs to the room that he shared with Joe. He sat down on the bed and looked at the mess Joe's side of the room was in. He had toys strewn everywhere and normally this irked him a little but right now, he missed hearing Joe's laughter. He missed Joe begging him to play. He missed Joe wanting to crawl in bed with him because he was afraid of the wind. He had wanted to be an only child but now that he might actually be one, the thought was depressing. Frank started crying. 'Joe looks up to me,' he thought. 'And I let him down.'
Frank got down on his knees by his bed and put his hands together like his mother had shown him. "God, momma says You listen when we talk even though we can't hear Your answers. So please, give me my brother back. I didn't mean it when I said I wanted to be an only child. If You do give him back, I promise I'll be the bestest big brother in the world. Thank You, God. Amen."
***
"Jonathan?" Roger asked, opening the door to Joe's room after he had returned from the woods. "Dinner is ready."
Joe sat cross-legged on the bed with his arms crossed, where he had been since Sarah had locked him in, and glared at Roger. "My name," he said slowly through gritted teeth, "is Joe."
"Your call," Roger said. "Goodnight, Son," he added, getting ready to close the door.
"I'm not your son!" Joe shouted, reaching behind him and grabbing the pillow. He hurled it at Roger's retreating back with all the force he could muster.
Roger froze with his hand on the doorknob. He turned slowly then pushed the door closed. "We do not throw things in this house," he said quietly.
Joe looked into Roger's hard eyes and swallowed fearfully. "I am your father whether you like it or not and you will treat me with respect. Do I make myself clear?"
"My...my daddy is Fen...Fenton Hardy," Joe stuttered, afraid but not giving ion.
"Go pick up the pillow and take it back to the bed," Roger ordered Joe.
Swallowing a lump that had lodged in his throat, Joe uncrossed his legs and got off the bed. He walked over to where the pillow lay in the floor and picked it up with his eyes never leaving Roger's face. He went back to the bed and laid it down.
"This is your first offense so I'm going to let you off this time," Roger told Joe. "But make no mistake," he continued. "Anything your previous family would not put up with, neither will we. Punishments will include, but not be limited to, spankings and groundings. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Sir," Joe answered, his blue eyes losing some of their defiance.
Roger sat down on the bed and pulled Joe close to him. With one hand on each of Joe's shoulders, Roger looked him in the eyes. "I know this is hard on you. It's hard on us too," he admitted. "But for all of our sakes, we have to accept each other and do our best to be a family."
"But..." Joe started to object but quieted down as Roger squeezed his shoulders.
"You are never going back and the sooner you can accept that the happier you will be," Roger continued. "I, personally, don't see why you want to go back anyway. Your brother didn't want you."
Joe shook his head, his blue eyes turning sad although he didn't cry. "We do want you," Roger told him. "Very, very much. So please, give us a chance?"
"But I want my mommy," Joe replied pitifully.
"Sarah is a good wife and she's going to be a great mom. You'll see," Roger told him, releasing Joe's shoulders and pulling the youth onto his lap. "Just give her a chance."
"I can't go back?" Joe asked, looking up into Roger's face.
"Never," answered Roger firmly. "Jonathan?" he asked when Joe remained quiet.
"Can...can I still be Joe?" Joe asked softly.
"A compromise?" asked Roger. "If we call you Joe, you will call us mom and dad?" Joe winced but nodded his acceptance. "It's a deal," Roger agreed and gave him a little hug. "Now, how about dinner, Son?"
"Yes, da..daddy," Joe stuttered.
***
"Hi, Sweetie," Laura said, entering the boys' bedroom a little later. "You didn't eat your dinner," she said.
"Is Joe coming back?" Frank asked, looking up into his mother's face with soulful brown eyes.
Laura took a deep breath and sniffed to hold back the tears as she sat down beside him. "Of course he is," she said, pulling him into her arms and kissing the top of his head.
"I'm sorry," Frank said, pulling back from her. "I...I didn't mean for him to get gone. I didn't mean it. I don't want to be an only child," he told her, crying. "I want Joe back."
"We all do, Son," Fenton said, entering the room and kneeling down on the floor beside the bed where Frank sat. He reached up and brushed a stray strand of hair from Frank's forehead when he turned to look at him. "And you don't have to apologize," he continued softly. "It isn't your fault."
"Yes it is," Frank replied. "He's little. I should have walked him back home or let him go with me."
"Then you might both have been taken," Fenton said. "It wasn't your fault."
"No, it was mine," Laura told him. "I should never have let either of you go so far without supervision."
"This is a safe neighborhood," Fenton said. "All the kids run loose. This isn't your fault either."
"Then whose fault is it?" demanded Frank.
"The only person we can blame is the person who took your brother," Fenton told him. "And we will find him and get your brother back."
"And punish the people who took him?" Frank asked.
"They will go to prison," promised Fenton. "Now, it's getting late. Why don't you go take a bath and get ready for bed?"
"I can't sleep," Frank vetoed the idea.
"Why not?" Laura asked.
"Joe isn't here," Frank answered, looking over at Joe's empty bed.
Laura squeezed him tight. "You can sleep with us," Laura told him. She didn't think she or Fenton would get any sleep that night but she would feel better having Frank with her.
"Okay," Frank said, standing up. Laura got up and went with Frank into the bathroom to get the bath water ready.
"How is she?" Ezra asked as Fenton came back downstairs.
"She's holding up," Fenton replied, frowning. "But Frank's blaming himself."
"That's ridiculous!" Ezra said. "He's just a little boy too. If they had been together they probably both would have been taken."
"I know," agreed Fenton. "We have to get him back," he added, looking at Ezra through haunted eyes.
***
"This is getting us nowhere!" growled Fenton the next afternoon. "Why haven't they called?"
"Mr. Hardy, please," said Agent Boone calmly. "Until we hear from the kidnappers there isn't anything we can do."
"Maybe there isn't anything you can do," Fenton said. "But there is something I can do." He stood up and called out to his son who was sitting in the living room pretending to watch a cartoon. "Frank, let's go for a walk."
"Fenton?" Laura objected.
"It's okay," he told her. "You wait here in case the kidnappers call. I am going to go with Frank around the neighborhood. Maybe we'll find something."
Agent Boone watched sadly as Fenton and Frank left the house. It was always worse for a man involved in some manner of law enforcement because they knew exactly what was going on and how little they really could do to help.
"Son, I want you to show me exactly where you left your brother," Fenton said. "And we'll start searching from there."
"You think he is hiding after all?" inquired Frank in surprise. "All night long?"
"No," Fenton admitted. "But I think if we start over, we might find some kind of clue."
Frank took his dad to the area where he had left Joe alone. "I'm sorry," Frank said, aware of how far from home they actually were at this point. "I'll never leave him again. Honest."
"I know you won't," Fenton said, ruffling Frank's hair. "Come on," he said. "Let's start asking around."
A few minutes later, Fenton crossed the street to the west instead of back toward the house. "Why are we going this way?" asked Frank.
"Because your brother might have gone this way," Fenton said.
"Because he got lost?" asked Frank.
"Maybe," Fenton answered. It was possible Joe had gotten lost trying to return home but he knew that even if he had something had happened to him after that otherwise, he would have been returned home or at least taken to the police station.
"Excuse me," Fenton said, as he and Frank approached a woman wearing a floral skirt and a yellow shirt who was sitting behind a flower stand. "Where you here yesterday by any chance?"
"Yes, Sir," the woman replied. "I'm here every day during the spring and summer."
"Did you see a small boy, five years old, with blond hair and blue eyes here yesterday?" Fenton asked.
"He's my brother," Frank added.
"Why, yes, I did," the woman admitted. "I was getting ready to close up for the day when he and a policeman stopped by here. The officer used the phone and then told the little boy that his mother said it was okay."
"Said what was okay?" asked Fenton.
"I don't know," the woman replied. "Why? Is something wrong?"
"Very much so," Fenton replied grimly. "My wife never received a call from anyone yesterday and our son never returned home."
"Oh no!" gasped the woman, lifting a hand to her lips. "And to think a police officer did something to a little boy."
"What did the officer look like?" asked Fenton.
"Blue eyes and dark blond hair," the woman said. "When he said it was all right with the boy's mother, I thought perhaps he was the boy's father."
"What else?" inquired Fenton. "How tall was he? What was the name on his uniform?"
"Richard Grimes," she said after thinking about it for a moment. "He was about the same build as you too. Maybe an inch taller," she added.
"I'm going to call the police," Fenton said. "They will want to talk to you."
***
"Joe, honey," Sarah said, reaching out and touching Joe's shoulder. "You need to eat your lunch."
"I'm not hungry," Joe replied, not looking at her.
"But you hardly touched your dinner last night and you didn't eat breakfast this morning either," she objected. "You're going to get sick if you don't eat something."
Joe started crying silently but didn't speak. "Joe," Roger said. "Eat your lunch."
"I'm not..."
"I don't want to hear it," Roger informed him. "Eat your sandwich if nothing else," he ordered.
Joe picked up the peanut butter and jelly sandwich and took a bite. It tasted like cardboard but he forced himself to eat it and finished his milk. "May I be excused now?" he asked, not looking at either of the adults.
"No," Roger replied. "We are going for a drive after Sarah and I finish."
"I don't want..."
"Stop it," commanded Roger. "You are a part of this family and you will participate in family outings."
"Yes, Sir," Joe replied softly.
"And stop crying," Sarah added. "If you will just try you'll have a good time. I promise."
"Why did you bring me here?" Joe asked. "Why won't you let me go home?"
"I brought you here because your real family didn't want you anymore," Roger told Joe.
"No," Joe refused to believe him. He shook his head frantically. "That's not true! Only Frank..."
"Your brother told you he wanted to be an only child because he had heard your parents say they wished they had stopped after one child," Roger continued to lie to Joe. "They didn't want you either. We do. They knew that. Your daddy told me to dress like a cop to get you to talk to me when I picked you up."
"No," Joe whispered, his blue eyes wide with shock.
"Yes," Sarah told him, laying a hand on his arm. "Baby, please? We want you to be happy. They didn't want you but we do. Please, give us a chance?"
"I...I..." Joe broke off and burst into tears. Sarah pulled him into her arms and held him, saying soothing words and patting his head gently as he sobbed. It wasn't long before he fell asleep.
Roger got up and took him from her and carried him to his room and laid him on the bed. He kissed the top of Joe's head. "We'll go on our outing after you've had some rest," he whispered, not sure if the child could hear him or not. "Sleep well, Son."
***
"Fenton, this is Officer Grimes," Ezra introduced the officer with him to Fenton later that evening at the Hardy home. Officer Grimes was a man in his late twenties with jet-black curls and brown eyes who stood a good three inches shorter than Fenton.
Fenton's face fell. "Someone broke into my house and stole one of my uniforms two weeks ago," Grimes informed Fenton. "Ezra told me about your son. I'm so sorry."
"Was anything else taken?" inquired Fenton.
"Yes," acknowledged Grimes. "My television, and some money that I had lying on the dresser. But that was pretty much it."
"Any leads on who broke in?" Fenton inquired, thinking the items were taken just so the police wouldn't think it odd that the uniform was taken.
"None," Ezra answered. "There weren't any fingerprints and the intruder entered through the kitchen door after breaking a window and unlocking the door. It happened while Grimes was working."
"Did your wife see anything?" asked Fenton.
"I'm not married," Grimes answered.
Fenton turned to Ezra. "I want to talk to the chief," he said. "I want to handle the break-in."
"Are you sure?" Ezra asked.
"Whoever broke into Grimes' place also kidnapped my son," Fenton said. "If I can find out whom, then I can find my son."
"When do you want to start?" Ezra asked. He had already cleared it with Chief McIntosh because he had an idea Fenton would want to handle the investigation.
"Now."
***
"Hi, Joe," Sarah said, entering Joe's room later that afternoon. "How are you feeling?"
"Okay, I guess," Joe replied sadly.
"Want to go for that ride now?" she asked him. "Wouldn't it be nice to get out of the house for a little while?"
"Yes, Ma'am er...mom," Joe replied. He still didn't feel comfortable calling her mom but it was becoming obvious he didn't have a choice. If his own dad had told Roger to dress like a police officer so he would trust him, then he guessed Roger was telling the truth. His family didn't want him.
Sarah took his hand and led him downstairs. "We're ready, honey," Sarah told Roger.
"Wonderful," Roger said smiling. "Where shall we go?"
"Let's take him to meet my parents," suggested Sarah. "Would you like to meet your new grandparents?" she asked Joe.
"Yes, please," Joe answered, giving her a shy smile.
"Run on out to the car and get in the backseat," Roger told Joe.
"Okay," agreed Joe and moved ahead of them out the front door.
"Sarah, are you sure?" Roger demanded. "They know we don't have any kids."
"I told them we were adopting," Sarah informed him.
"What if they recognize him?" Roger asked. "You know his picture is going to be in the paper."
"My folks don't read the paper," Sarah told him. "Mom says there's too much bad news and with Dad's bad heart she doesn't want him reading it. It will be okay," she assured him.
"Okay," Roger agreed. "Make sure he's buckled in."
***
"Where are you going?" Frank asked his dad as he started to leave the house.
"You remember what the lady told us about the police officer that was with Joe?" Fenton asked Frank. Frank nodded. "Well, the uniform the man was wearing was stolen," Fenton informed Frank. "If I can find out who stole the real Officer Grimes' uniform then I can find out who took Joe."
"And bring him home?" asked Frank.
"Of course," Fenton replied.
"Tonight?" asked Frank.
Fenton sighed and picked Frank up into his arms. "I doubt it will be tonight," Fenton admitted honestly. "But I am not going to quit until I find your brother," he added. "I promise."
"Can I help?" asked Frank.
"You can make sure your mother eats something," Fenton told him. "She is going to get sick if she doesn't."
"I'll make her eat something," promised Frank. "If she's sick then she won't know when Joe gets home," he reasoned. "And then Joe will feel even worser for not being here."
"You are entirely right," agreed Fenton, sitting the youth back down. "And please, stay inside while I'm gone?"
"I will," promised Frank. "And Daddy," he added, tugging on his father's arm as he turned to leave. "Tell Joe I'm sorry and I love having him for a brother when you find him?" he asked when his dad turned to look at him.
"I will, baby," Fenton said, bending down and giving Frank a hug and kiss before leaving.
***
Fenton drove to the police station and was allowed access to all the information and evidence gathered by the Bayport police force concerning the break-in and robbery at Grime's address. After reviewing the report that had been filed he looked through the evidence and sighed. There wasn't much to go on, but he would do his best. He left the police station a determined man.
It was nearing nine o'clock when Fenton reached Grimes' neighborhood but instead of being deterred, he found it to be a positive thing because more people were at home at this time of evening. Pulling out the composite picture made from the flower vendor's description, Fenton began knocking on doors and asking people to look at the picture.
An hour later, Fenton was losing hope. He knocked on yet another door. "Hello, my name is Fenton Hardy," he greeted the person who answered the door. "I'm a private investigator and I am looking into the break-in that occurred in this neighborhood a few weeks ago. I was wondering if you could take a look at this picture and tell me if you have seen this man or someone who resembles him in this area?"
"Sure," agreed the gangly young man, accepting the piece of paper from Fenton. "Yeah, I've seen him."
"Where?" inquired Fenton, his heart racing with newfound hope.
"Down the street," the man informed Fenton. "He was getting into a white Camry."
"Can you tell me anything else about the man or the car?" Fenton inquired. "Anything at all?" he demanded, his desperation showing through.
"First case?" asked the man, grinning at Fenton. "You seem all excited."
"No," denied Fenton. "This man abducted my son yesterday."
"Oh, geez. I'm so sorry," the man returned. "Let me think," he said, closing his eyes. "I've got a photographic memory but it helps to close my eyes when I try to remember," he explained.
Fenton waited silently for the man to speak. "The car had a little dent in the driver's door and there was an air freshener shaped like a leaf hanging on the rearview mirror. I didn't see the tag number but there was a bumper sticker that said something about Tomlin Elementary School on it," he added, opening his eyes and looking into Fenton's brown ones. "Oh, and the guy was wearing a pair of brown cords and a white button-up shirt with the top two buttons undone."
***
"So, Joe, how did you like your grandparents?" asked Roger when they returned home.
"They are nice," Joe replied.
"Your mother and I were very proud of you tonight," Roger continued. "You behaved very well."
"Thank you," Joe replied politely.
"For a reward, how about some ice cream before you take your bath?" asked Sarah.
"No, thank you," Joe answered. It was ice cream that had gotten him into this mess. He didn't think he would ever want ice cream again!
"Then how about a bedtime story after your bath?" Roger asked.
"Yes, please," Joe replied.
"Go give your father a hug and then we'll get you in the tub," Sarah ordered Joe.
Plastering a smile on his face, Joe went up to Roger and hugged his neck then returned to Sarah and let her lead him upstairs. Roger watched them retreat and frowned. Joe was by far too polite to have accepted them as his parents yet. "But in time," he murmured. "In time." He only hoped it was before Joe had to attend school. It would look funny if his son were home schooled when his father taught first grade.
***
Two hours later, with Joe asleep in his room, Sarah and Roger turned out the lights and went to bed. Less than fifteen minutes after falling asleep, they were awakened by noises coming from Joe's room. "No," Joe mumbled, tossing and kicking his cover onto the floor. "No!" he screamed, still in the throe of his night terror.
Roger and Sarah came running into Joe's room and saw him thrashing about. Roger flipped on the light as Sarah ran to the bed and tried to awaken Joe.
"No!" Joe shouted as Sarah touched him. "No! No! No! Please don't make me go!" he screamed through a flood of tears.
"Shh!" Sarah said, pulling Joe into her arms. "It's okay, baby. No one is going to make you go anywhere."
"No!" screamed Joe, struggling against her embrace. "Mommy! " he shouted. "Daddy!"
"We're right here, Son," Roger said, sitting down on the bed beside Sarah and reaching for the distraught boy.
"No!" Joe shouted again, wide awake now. "I want my real mommy and daddy!"
"They didn't want you," Roger reminded Joe, trying to get him to calm down. "Your daddy asked me to take you."
"LIKE HELL I DID!"
***
Fenton checked with the rest of the houses in Grimes' neighborhood but no one else was able to be of any help. Returning to his car he considered going home to tell Laura and Frank about his new lead but vetoed the idea hoping, instead, he could locate Joe first. He knew he should let Agent Boone know but the father in him was telling him that the FBI would go strictly by the book and he wasn't sure that was the best thing for his son at this point.
He started the car and headed for Tomlin. Almost an hour later he came to a stop in front of the Tomlin Police Department and went inside. After introducing himself and showing his credentials to the sergeant at the front desk, Fenton was escorted to the office of Detective-Sergeant Peter Nelson and told to wait.
"Mr. Hardy?" Nelson inquired, entering his office a couple of minutes later.
Fenton stood to greet the man. Nelson was a full six foot two with broad shoulders, dark brown hair and deep green eyes. "Sergeant Nickelson said you were working on a kidnapping?"
"My son," Fenton admitted. "This man abducted him yesterday afternoon." He handed the composite to Nelson. "He was seen a few weeks prior to the abduction driving a white Camry with a leaf air freshener and a Tomlin Elementary School bumper sticker on it."
"I'll see what we can come up with," Nelson promised, leaving the office.
The detective returned to his office in less than an hour with a search warrant in his hand. "One of our men recognized him," he informed Fenton. "His name is Roger Greely and he teaches first grade at the elementary school here."
"Let's go" Fenton said, his impatience getting the better of him.
"I think it would be best if you remained here," Nelson said, frowning at Fenton. Even though he detected a hardness in the man he was the boy's father and that could lead to trouble.
"Absolutely not," refused Fenton. "Look," he continued, running a hand through his mane of wavy brown hair. "I used to be a detective-lieutenant with the New York City Police Department," he said. "I do know how this type of operation is handled. Joe is my son," he stressed. "The only way to prevent me from accompanying you is to arrest me."
"All right," Nelson gave in, realizing immediately that Hardy was not bluffing. "But you stay behind me."
"Agreed," concurred Fenton. "Can we go now?"
Nelson and Fenton met up with two more officers outside. "I want you two on the backside of the house," Nelson ordered the men. "Remember, Grimes is a respected member of this town and this search warrant means he is a suspect only. There is no proof of his guilt." Nelson looked at Fenton as he said this. Fenton rolled his eyes but remained quiet.
By the time they reached the Greely residence it was well after ten p.m. and all the lights were out. "I guess they went to bed early," Nelson commented to Fenton as they got out of the unmarked car.
Fenton grabbed Nelson's arm and pointed to the driveway where the Camry was parked. It fit the description he had been given down to the leaf shaped air freshener. Nelson's face hardened. He had been hoping that Hardy's information was wrong but the description fit perfectly. The two walked up to the front door. Nelson raised his hand to knock but paused as the lawn near them lit up with the glow from a window where a light had been turned on.
Fenton hurried over and peered in the window. "Joe," he whispered. He raced back to the front door and kicked it open before Nelson could prevent him. He raced inside to the room with a light emanating from it and came to a full stop in the doorway. He heard Greely tell Joe that he had asked him to take Joe away and...he snapped.
"LIKE HELL I DID!" thundered Fenton, barging into the room with Nelson and the other two officers on his heels. He grabbed Greely up by the collar of his shirt and brought back his right fist. In a move swift as lightening, he hit Greely in the face with a force so strong the man went crashing into the wall after tripping over the racetrack on the floor.
His eyes so dark they were almost black, Fenton advanced on him again only to be stopped by Nelson and one of the officers. Fenton started to shake them off and go after Greely again but was stopped by one word from the child on the bed.
"Daddy?"
Fenton spun around, his eyes softening and tearing up as he looked at the little boy he loved so much. "Joseph," he said softly moving forward as he was released.
"No!" Sarah snarled, jumping up and standing between Fenton and Joe. "Stay away from my son!" she screamed at him.
Fenton's eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared. He had never hit a woman before but he was more than willing to start with this one.
Nelson snapped an order and Sarah was pulled roughly from Fenton's sight. Fenton fell to the bed beside Joe as the Greelys were read their rights.
Joe looked up into his daddy's eyes, his own scared and filled with pain. "Baby," Fenton whispered, reaching out and touching Joe's cheek. "Are you okay?"
"You...you told them to take me away," accused Joe,
"No, baby," denied Fenton. "Never. They lied to you."
"They did?" Joe asked, his eyes reflecting a glimmer of hope.
"Of course they did," Fenton said, pulling Joe into his arms and squeezing his so tight that Joe could barely breathe. "I love you so much," he said. "Your mother, nor I, ever want you to be away from us."
"Frank does," Joe sadly, hugging his father back and not complaining because of the tight grip.
"No, he doesn't," Fenton told him, kissing the top of Joe's head. "He told me to tell you that he was sorry and he didn't mean what he said."
"Really?" asked Joe.
"Really," Fenton answered. He kissed Joe's forehead. "I love you, Joe," he said.
"I love you too, Daddy," Joe said, giving his dad a tenuous smile. "Can we go home now?" he asked. "I don't like it here."
"Me neither," Fenton concurred in a conspiratorial whisper. He stood up and carried Joe outside.
"I suppose you want to get your son home as soon as possible," Nelson said. He had followed the two outside.
"Please," acknowledged Fenton. "I will come back and press charges tomorrow," he added as another patrol car arrived on the scene.
"Wait here," ordered Nelson. He went to talk with the officer who exited the vehicle. When he returned, he had the officer with him. "Officer Bryant will return you to the police station," Nelson said. "I will expect you tomorrow afternoon?"
Fenton nodded. "Thank you," he said gratefully, hugging Joe again. Nelson smiled as father and son moved away. He had thought Hardy was too hard a man when he had first met him but now he could see it had been a charade to keep anyone from knowing how terrified he had been. As he watched Fenton Hardy get into the squad car he had the feeling that this was one young detective that was going to set the world on fire.
***
Fenton pulled to a stop in his driveway on Elm Street and got out. He opened the rear door and unbuckled Joe who stirred but did not awaken. He lifted Joe out and enjoyed the warmth that he knew came from knowing his son was safe and where he belonged. As Fenton climbed the steps to the front door, the screen door opened and Agent Boone stood silhouetted in the doorway.
Boone opened the screen for Fenton to enter with Joe. "Tomlin PD called Bayport PD and they called us," Boone said, smiling at Fenton. "You did good."
"I had too," Fenton stated without pride or modesty.
"Laura and Frank are asleep upstairs in your room," Boone informed him. "I haven't told them about Joe. I thought it would be best if they could see for themselves."
"Thank you," Fenton replied gratefully.
"Anytime," Boone replied. "We've moved all of our equipment out already so we won't have to bother you again."
Fenton held Joe tucked safely on one arm with Joe's head resting on his shoulder as he locked the door after the agent had left. He went into the kitchen, turned on the alarm, then carried Joe upstairs to the room he shared with his wife.
He considered waking them up but he knew how tired Joe was and could see the effect the past 36 hours had had on his wife. Even Frank looked dead to the world. No. He would not awaken them. He kicked off his shoes and laid Joe down on the bed gently beside his older brother before lying down on Joe's other side and falling asleep.
The next morning, Frank tried to raise his arm but something heavy was lying on it. He opened his eyes to see what was pinning him down. "JOE!" Frank shouted, throwing his free arm around his brother. Joe moved slightly, freeing Frank's other arm that Frank promptly threw around Joe, giving him a tight hug.
"Joe," gasped Laura, sitting up as Fenton opened his eyes. "Baby!" she screamed, pulling both Joe and Frank, because he hadn't yet released his younger brother, into her arms. She sat there crying. Fenton reached out and brushed a tear from her cheek.
"You should have wakened me," she said, glaring accusingly at her husband.
"Joe slept the entire trip home," Fenton told her. "He was exhausted."
"Where were you?" demanded Frank, releasing Joe as his mother released them.
"Tell everything," commanded Laura of Fenton.
"The policeman wasn't a policeman," Joe said. "He took me home with him."
"What?" demanded Laura.
"Greely, a teacher at Tomlin Elementary, kidnapped Joe to make him his son," Fenton explained.
"He saided daddy told him to dress like a policeman so I would go with him," Joe said softly.
"Your father would never do that!" Laura told Joe. Surely he didn't believe that?
"Greely obviously stole Officer Grimes' uniform because he knew children are taught to trust the police even when they are taught to avoid strangers," Fenton said.
"He saided you didn't want me," Joe said, looking at Frank accusingly.
"I'm sorry, Joe," Frank apologized earnestly. "I didn't mean what I said 'bout wanting to be an only child. I like having you around. And I promise, I will never, ever say anything like that ever again," he continued. "You'll see," Frank said, putting an arm around Joe's shoulders and looking into his blue eyes with an intensity that startled their parents. "I'll take care of you. I'm going to be the bestest big brother ever!"
"Honest?" Joe asked, tilting his head sideways and looking at Frank as if he didn't quite believe him.
"Honest," Frank repeated the word solemnly.
"But what if your friends don't want me hanging around?" asked Joe.
"Then they aren't my friends," Frank answered promptly. "You come first. Now and forever."
Joe looked at Frank for a brief instant more and, deciding to believe him, broke into a huge grin and hugged Frank as tightly as he could. "I won't have any friends that don't like you either," he promised.
"Deal," Frank said, taking Joe's hand in his and shaking it.
Laura lifted a hand to her mouth to stop herself from making a sound as she shed tears of relief and joy. Something good had come from all the horror of the past two days. Her sons had truly bonded and she had a feeling that it was a bond that, although would be tested, would never be broken.
End