"You're not having any fun either," Vanessa said, looking at Frank sympathetically. As much as she cared about Joe she knew Frank cared for him even more. She had learned that the bond the brothers shared was stronger than any she had ever seen and knew that whatever she felt, as madly in love with Joe as she was, Frank felt at least ten times worse.
Frank shook his head. "I didn't think so," Callie said with a long-suffering sigh. "Take us home," she said, standing up.
"But..." Frank began a feeble attempt to object but Callie didn't let him finish.
"It's okay," Callie quickly assured him with no ill feeling. "Vanessa and I have been fed and you and Joe can make it up to us later. And, uh...it better be worth the wait."
Frank jumped up and kissed her, ignoring the catcalls from his friends. "You're the best," he said after his lips left hers.
"I know," Callie agreed then looked over at Vanessa. "Want to stay with me awhile?" she asked. "We can watch a video and I can run you home later?" she offered.
"Sounds good to me," Vanessa agreed. When she had first started dating Joe she hadn't much cared for Callie, finding her a bit standoffish, but after getting to know her she realized it was more of a defense mechanism. Callie was a warm-hearted girl who cared deeply for all her friends but she was reluctant to show it.
The three teens made their goodbyes and left with Frank stopping at the counter to pay their bill. Twenty-five minutes later Frank pulled into the driveway surprised when a pair of headlights followed him and came to a stop directly behind him.
"You're home early," Laura commented as she and Fenton exited her Saturn.
"Yeah," agreed Frank. "Where have you two been?" he asked, his face marred by the beginning of a scowl.
Fenton's forehead creased as his lips titled down. Why was Frank mad? "We went out to dinner," he answered.
"We were going to see a movie too but there wasn't anything interesting playing," added Laura also looking at Frank curiously. "Where's Joe?"
"He left early," answered Frank. "He insisted on walking home."
"And you followed him?" asked Fenton in surprise. He, too, had been worried about Joe since his abduction by Aliem but to follow him home four blocks from the pizzeria seemed a bit much.
"No," denied Frank. "Callie, Vanessa and I stayed for dinner but....well, I was worried," he confessed.
"Then let's go in and see how he's doing," Laura suggested, leading the way to the front door.
"Sounds like he found a monster movie," Laura commented as they entered the foyer.
"Yes," agreed Frank, relaxing a bit as he headed into the living room where the TV was turned up a bit too loud. "Joe, would you please turn it down a little?" he asked entering the living room but stopping abruptly when he saw the plate of food and full glass of milk but no Joe.
"Joe?" shouted Frank. No answer. He walked over to the coffee table and put the tip of his finger in the glass of milk.
"It's warm," he informed his parents who had entered the living room. He spotted something caught in the back of the sofa and picked it up. It was a cream colored cloth and as he held it closer he was assaulted by a sickly sweet odor. He dropped the cloth and looked at his parents in alarm. "Chloroform," he stated.
Fenton pulled out his cell phone. "Don't touch anything," he ordered as he dialed police headquarters.
Frank left the room and ran upstairs to see if anything had been bothered although he feared whoever had been in the house had been after Joe and not anything pertaining to a case his dad had been working on.
"Well?" Laura demanded several minutes later when Frank returned downstairs.
Frank shook his head. "I don't think whoever took Joe even went up there," he replied.
"I found out how the person got inside," Fenton informed Frank and Laura. "The window in the guestroom was broken."
"But who was it?" Laura wanted to know. She didn't care how they had gotten in the house of if anything had been bothered. She wouldn't have cared if everything they owned had been stolen. All she was interested in was who had taken her son and when was she going to get him back.
Fenton scowled as he turned to look at Frank. He had no idea. "Mayhem, maybe," suggested Frank.
"Mayhem?" demanded Fenton narrowing his eyes on Frank as flashing blue lights permeated the sheer curtains between the drapes at the main window.
Frank gave a hesitant nod then told his father about Mayhem's disappearance and trying to run him down earlier in Elie's stolen truck. "But why?" Fenton asked, his forehead crinkled in thought. He remembered Joe's insistence that Mayhem was involved in their previous case and Frank's assurances that Mayhem wasn't and neither Anderson nor Aliem had made any mention of Boris Mayhem when questioned. Had Joe sensed Mayhem's unstable nature or had he perhaps done something to cause it to rise to the fore? Either way, Mayhem was obviously up to something. He only wished he could be positive it was Mayhem who had taken Joe. At least they would have a place to start.
Frank must have been thinking along the same lines. As his father went to the door to let the police inside, he headed out. "I'm going to check with the neighbors and see if anyone saw anything."
"Good idea," approved Sergeant Andrew Bryson, a man in his late twenties with curly black hair and a black mustache. His green eyes looked briefly at Frank before focusing on the one of the officers who had come with him. "Paisley, you start checking across the street and Frank can take this side."
"Yes, Sir," Paisley agreed and followed Frank down the front steps as Sergeant Bryson and another officer entered the Hardy home.
Frank had no luck with their closest neighbors who had been playing bridge with some friends all evening but at the next house Mr. Coleman was a bit more helpful.
"I didn't see anyone around your place," said Mike Coleman, his forehead creasing thoughtfully and bringing his bushy black brows together. "Except Joe as he was getting home," he amended. "But I did see this red truck drive through the neighborhood a couple of times. Nice and slow like he was looking for something."
"Did you see the driver?" asked Frank looking at him with interest.
"Just a glimpse," Coleman acknowledged. "A big fellow. Not strong looking exactly; just large. With lightly curly brown hair."
Mayhem! Frank's mind screamed in triumph. He does have Joe, the horrible thought followed. Mayhem had already managed to brainwash Joe in the short time they had been together. What would Mayhem do now that there would be no interruptions and he didn't have to pretend to be other than the demented person he was?
Frank shook his head. "I didn't think so," Callie said with a long-suffering sigh. "Take us home," she said, standing up.
"But..." Frank began a feeble attempt to object but Callie didn't let him finish.
"It's okay," Callie quickly assured him with no ill feeling. "Vanessa and I have been fed and you and Joe can make it up to us later. And, uh...it better be worth the wait."
Frank jumped up and kissed her, ignoring the catcalls from his friends. "You're the best," he said after his lips left hers.
"I know," Callie agreed then looked over at Vanessa. "Want to stay with me awhile?" she asked. "We can watch a video and I can run you home later?" she offered.
"Sounds good to me," Vanessa agreed. When she had first started dating Joe she hadn't much cared for Callie, finding her a bit standoffish, but after getting to know her she realized it was more of a defense mechanism. Callie was a warm-hearted girl who cared deeply for all her friends but she was reluctant to show it.
The three teens made their goodbyes and left with Frank stopping at the counter to pay their bill. Twenty-five minutes later Frank pulled into the driveway surprised when a pair of headlights followed him and came to a stop directly behind him.
"You're home early," Laura commented as she and Fenton exited her Saturn.
"Yeah," agreed Frank. "Where have you two been?" he asked, his face marred by the beginning of a scowl.
Fenton's forehead creased as his lips titled down. Why was Frank mad? "We went out to dinner," he answered.
"We were going to see a movie too but there wasn't anything interesting playing," added Laura also looking at Frank curiously. "Where's Joe?"
"He left early," answered Frank. "He insisted on walking home."
"And you followed him?" asked Fenton in surprise. He, too, had been worried about Joe since his abduction by Aliem but to follow him home four blocks from the pizzeria seemed a bit much.
"No," denied Frank. "Callie, Vanessa and I stayed for dinner but....well, I was worried," he confessed.
"Then let's go in and see how he's doing," Laura suggested, leading the way to the front door.
"Sounds like he found a monster movie," Laura commented as they entered the foyer.
"Yes," agreed Frank, relaxing a bit as he headed into the living room where the TV was turned up a bit too loud. "Joe, would you please turn it down a little?" he asked entering the living room but stopping abruptly when he saw the plate of food and full glass of milk but no Joe.
"Joe?" shouted Frank. No answer. He walked over to the coffee table and put the tip of his finger in the glass of milk.
"It's warm," he informed his parents who had entered the living room. He spotted something caught in the back of the sofa and picked it up. It was a cream colored cloth and as he held it closer he was assaulted by a sickly sweet odor. He dropped the cloth and looked at his parents in alarm. "Chloroform," he stated.
Fenton pulled out his cell phone. "Don't touch anything," he ordered as he dialed police headquarters.
Frank left the room and ran upstairs to see if anything had been bothered although he feared whoever had been in the house had been after Joe and not anything pertaining to a case his dad had been working on.
"Well?" Laura demanded several minutes later when Frank returned downstairs.
Frank shook his head. "I don't think whoever took Joe even went up there," he replied.
"I found out how the person got inside," Fenton informed Frank and Laura. "The window in the guestroom was broken."
"But who was it?" Laura wanted to know. She didn't care how they had gotten in the house of if anything had been bothered. She wouldn't have cared if everything they owned had been stolen. All she was interested in was who had taken her son and when was she going to get him back.
Fenton scowled as he turned to look at Frank. He had no idea. "Mayhem, maybe," suggested Frank.
"Mayhem?" demanded Fenton narrowing his eyes on Frank as flashing blue lights permeated the sheer curtains between the drapes at the main window.
Frank gave a hesitant nod then told his father about Mayhem's disappearance and trying to run him down earlier in Elie's stolen truck. "But why?" Fenton asked, his forehead crinkled in thought. He remembered Joe's insistence that Mayhem was involved in their previous case and Frank's assurances that Mayhem wasn't and neither Anderson nor Aliem had made any mention of Boris Mayhem when questioned. Had Joe sensed Mayhem's unstable nature or had he perhaps done something to cause it to rise to the fore? Either way, Mayhem was obviously up to something. He only wished he could be positive it was Mayhem who had taken Joe. At least they would have a place to start.
Frank must have been thinking along the same lines. As his father went to the door to let the police inside, he headed out. "I'm going to check with the neighbors and see if anyone saw anything."
"Good idea," approved Sergeant Andrew Bryson, a man in his late twenties with curly black hair and a black mustache. His green eyes looked briefly at Frank before focusing on the one of the officers who had come with him. "Paisley, you start checking across the street and Frank can take this side."
"Yes, Sir," Paisley agreed and followed Frank down the front steps as Sergeant Bryson and another officer entered the Hardy home.
Frank had no luck with their closest neighbors who had been playing bridge with some friends all evening but at the next house Mr. Coleman was a bit more helpful.
"I didn't see anyone around your place," said Mike Coleman, his forehead creasing thoughtfully and bringing his bushy black brows together. "Except Joe as he was getting home," he amended. "But I did see this red truck drive through the neighborhood a couple of times. Nice and slow like he was looking for something."
"Did you see the driver?" asked Frank looking at him with interest.
"Just a glimpse," Coleman acknowledged. "A big fellow. Not strong looking exactly; just large. With lightly curly brown hair."
Mayhem! Frank's mind screamed in triumph. He does have Joe, the horrible thought followed. Mayhem had already managed to brainwash Joe in the short time they had been together. What would Mayhem do now that there would be no interruptions and he didn't have to pretend to be other than the demented person he was?