Frank watched as the mammoth dog came closer. Any second now and it would jump on him playfully, the way it always did when she was off her leash and Frank was alone.
Fenton, aware of the dog's disposition toward his sons, hurried around to the other side of the truck and stopped a few feet away from Frank, ready to take the weight of the dog on himself and keep him away from Frank.
"Come here, Sweetheart," Fenton urged the dog to turn her attention away from Frank. "Want to play?" he coaxed, sweat popping out on his forehead.
Sweetheart came closer, her eyes still locked on Frank as drool spilled from the bottom of her mouth. Fenton jumped in front of Sweetheart as it came closer. He locked his arms around the Saint Bernard as he fell backward.
Sweetheart obviously didn't care that she had missed her target for she began bathing Fenton's face in slobber.
"Sweetheart!" shouted Mrs. Feldman. "Oh my," she gasped as she ran up to Fenton and her dog. "I'm so sorry," she apologized, clipping the leash to the monster's collar. "She slipped out the door as I was going in with the mail."
Mrs. Feldman pulled on Sweetheart's leash with all her might as she backed away from Fenton. "That's quite all right," Fenton replied as he got to his feet. "At least she's friendly," he added with a smile.
Sweetheart tugged at her leash wanting to go to Frank but Fenton took hold of her collar to help Mrs. Feldman keep her away. "Would you mind taking her back inside for a little while?" Fenton asked. "There's a problem with this truck and the police are on their way."
"Don't you mean a wrecker?" Mrs. Feldman corrected him with the lift of a brow.
"Not for this problem," denied Fenton without elaborating as he released Sweetheart's collar.
"Oh," she mouthed. "Oh!" she gasped realizing how close Sweetheart had come to making the problem worse. "Of course! I'm so sorry," she apologized again as she turned and headed back to her house pulling Sweetheart along with her.
"That was close," said Frank.
Fenton nodded. "I'll have to ask Laura to make her a pie or something," he said. "We don't want to alienate our neighbors."
Frank shook his head. "The Feldmans are nice," he told his dad. He and Joe had interacted with them more that their dad had. "Mrs. Feldman's father was a police officer in Los Angles," Frank informed him. "I'm sure she isn't surprised by what goes on in this neighborhood."
The roar of approaching sirens drowned Frank's voice out. In no time at all the block was sealed off and the truck was being inspected. A member of the bomb squad expertly maneuvered his hand so that Frank could release the handle and leave the immediate area with his father.
Over an hour later the bomb squad and police, except for Chief Collig who remained behind to talk with the Hardys over coffee, had left the area. Even the truck had been impounded and taken to headquarters.
"Frank, why don't you check out Mayhem's old address?" suggested Fenton. "Maybe you can find something to tell you where he might have gone." Frank nodded his acquiescence. "I'll go to the university and sift through his office and lab." Fenton ended.
"Here," Frank said, pulling out the keys from Dean Ravelson. "This one is to Mayhem's lab," he showed his dad the correct key.
"Thank you," Fenton acknowledged, taking the set of keys.
"And I will call Laura if Forensics comes up with anything conclusive," Collig put in. He scowled, wishing there was more he could do. "I would like to be kept informed on your investigation?" he requested.
"Every twenty-four hours," Fenton promised.
"Be careful," Laura said, grasping Frank's arm as he stood up to leave. "He will probably be after you next."
"No, he won't," Frank denied with conviction.
"Why are you so sure?" Fenton demanded, his brown eyes narrowed on Frank speculatively.
"I..uh..." Frank stuttered, not wanting to betray Joe's confidence.
"Frank, if you know something that's going on then you need to tell us," Fenton pushed; then used his trump card. "Joe's life could depend on it."
"I think Mayhem may have hypnotized or brainwashed Joe, and Craig, into believing something," Frank answered a bit hesitantly.
"What?" Fenton demanded sharply.
"Joe thought..." Frank broke off again and looked warily at Chief Collig.
"Whatever it is, it will not go beyond this room," Collig promised.
"Joe thinks he's a...a werewolf," Frank finally spit it out. "And I'm pretty sure Crag did too," he continued ready to talk once he had gotten over the initial hurtle. "Joe, and Craig from what I've heard, started acting weird after encountering Mayhem. Neither of them trusted him and they both started reading about werewolves before they disappeared."
"Son, just because Joe took an interest in werewolves doesn't mean he thinks he is one," Laura said calmly. "I was really into vampires in my teens but I never believed they actually existed let alone thought I was one!"
"But Joe told me he did," Frank explained. "I even scratched him to prove he wasn't." Collig lifted a brow. "The scratch didn't heal. I think I convinced him Mayhem and Anderson were playing with his mind but..."
"Anderson?" Collig snapped, his brows drawing together.
"Yeah. I think whatever Anderson did to him that night reinforced whatever idea Mayhem planted in his mind," Frank answered, his brown eyes hard.
"You could be right," agreed Fenton. He had never seen Joe as shaken as he had been the morning they had rescued him from the cellar where Anderson and Aliem had held him captive.
"I'll have Anderson's place searched again," Collig declared. "And I will question him myself." He looked at Frank. "Don't worry, I won't say anything about Joe thinking he's a werewolf."
"But if he does believe it, how are we going to convince him he isn't?" Laura demanded in a trembling voice.
"Wait until the next full moon and prove it to him," stated Frank. "If we can stop Mayhem from doing any more damage, that is. I think Joe may be having doubts about it now."
Chief Collig left about five minutes later and Frank headed outside to the van. His cell went off before he had time to start the motor.
"Frank," Callie's voice came through. "Vanessa just stopped by and we were wondering if you and Joe wanted to go to the beach. That is, if he's feeling any better?"
"Joe was kidnapped last night," Frank informed her. "Mayhem chloroformed him and took him before I got home last night."
"Mayhem? Are you sure it was he?" Callie demanded. Hadn't Frank thought Joe was off base about suspecting him before?
"I'm sure," replied Frank. "The truck he stole was parked down the street and a bomb attached to it this morning. He had to of known dad and I would check it out."
"So he's trying to kill you and keep Joe?" Callie asked, perplexed. "That doesn't make any sense."
"It's complicated," Frank admitted but didn't elaborate. "I'm on my way to his old place now to see if I can find anything. I'll call you later."
"No! Wait!" Callie shouted before he could disconnect. "Come by and pick us up," she ordered. "Three sets of eyes are better than one."
"Are you sure?" asked Frank. "Mayhem isn't stable. It could be dangerous."
Callie looked at Vanessa who had a determined look in her eyes as she gave a curt nod. "We're sure," Callie stated, leaning away from Vanessa now that Frank had finished talking about Joe. "We'll be waiting outside."
***
Joe's stomach growled before he opened his eyes. He tried to move but found himself chained to the bed. He yanked on the chains and turned with a snarl as Mayhem unlocked his cage.
"Breakfast," Mayhem said cheerily.
"Don't you have to work?" Joe demanded grumpily.
"You are my work," Mayhem replied smiling down at Joe. "Now, open wide and take a bite," he said, holding a sausage biscuit out to Joe.
"Aren't you afraid I'll bite you?" Joe snapped.
"Now, why would you do that?" Mayhem demanded in amusement. "Without me to take care of you, you would die down here and if you are anything like Fang and Goria," he added glancing over at the two wolves, "you would die of starvation pretty quick. Did you know that they consume twenty pounds of raw meat, each, a day?"
Joe gave a low growl of frustration but took a huge bite of the sausage biscuit. Soon, Joe had devoured the large breakfast Mayhem had brought him and Mayhem set the empty tray on the floor.
"What did you do with Craig?" asked Joe wondering what his own fate was going to be.
"Ah, yes, tragic," replied Mayhem with a frown. "Jonathan got lose and came after me. I I had to kill him but I wasn't too upset because Jonathan had already gotten close enough to Craig to turn him. Just a scratch, like you, but it was enough."
He looked at Joe speculatively. "I suppose Craig's death can be blamed on legend," he continued. "Allegedly, only a silver bullet can kill a werewolf. And while that does work, the legend fails to tell that the silver bullet method only holds true when the man has already morphed into the wolf. As a man, he can still die. Craig managed to get hold of a scalpel in the basement of my house and cut himself," Mayhem explained. "He bled to death before he could transform."
"None of this makes any sense," said Joe. "The moon wasn't full the night I got scratched, if I even did," he added. "So how did it heal so fast? Frank scratched me yesterday and it hasn't healed."
Mayhem's smile returned. "Ah, but I have in my possession something than can effect the change even when the moon is not full. It was still on campus when Craig was hurt and I didn't get it back to my house in enough time to prevent his demise."
"What?" Joe wanted to know.
"It's a rock from the moon," Mayhem answered. "A gift from NASA several years ago. So you see, now I don't have to worry about losing you. I will just measure your vital signs until you are almost too weak to survive then allow the moon rock to work its magic.
"I need to find out how long it takes for you to heal while you are under the moon's influence and then I want to find out how lifeless you have to be before the moon loses some of its healing powers," he ended.
"But if you do that, you might actually kill me," Joe tried to reason with him. "Then you wouldn't have any werewolf."
"Ah, but I have samples of you blood," Mayhem told him. "Should you die, and at some point I am sure you will but hopefully that won't be for several months, then I will simply find someone and inject your blood into him or her."
"But what if it isn't the blood that turns them?" argued Joe as Mayhem removed a knife from a sheath around his leg. "I'm the one who bled when I got scratched. Not Craig or Jonathan, or whichever one it was."
"Hmm," Mayhem commented, pausing thoughtfully. "You aren't as dumb as I thought you were. An interesting theory and one I shall have to check out. But don't worry, I shan't let you get too far-gone just yet. There are many experiments I wish to perform. This is but one," he ended and brought the knife down with force into Joe's abdomen.
Fenton, aware of the dog's disposition toward his sons, hurried around to the other side of the truck and stopped a few feet away from Frank, ready to take the weight of the dog on himself and keep him away from Frank.
"Come here, Sweetheart," Fenton urged the dog to turn her attention away from Frank. "Want to play?" he coaxed, sweat popping out on his forehead.
Sweetheart came closer, her eyes still locked on Frank as drool spilled from the bottom of her mouth. Fenton jumped in front of Sweetheart as it came closer. He locked his arms around the Saint Bernard as he fell backward.
Sweetheart obviously didn't care that she had missed her target for she began bathing Fenton's face in slobber.
"Sweetheart!" shouted Mrs. Feldman. "Oh my," she gasped as she ran up to Fenton and her dog. "I'm so sorry," she apologized, clipping the leash to the monster's collar. "She slipped out the door as I was going in with the mail."
Mrs. Feldman pulled on Sweetheart's leash with all her might as she backed away from Fenton. "That's quite all right," Fenton replied as he got to his feet. "At least she's friendly," he added with a smile.
Sweetheart tugged at her leash wanting to go to Frank but Fenton took hold of her collar to help Mrs. Feldman keep her away. "Would you mind taking her back inside for a little while?" Fenton asked. "There's a problem with this truck and the police are on their way."
"Don't you mean a wrecker?" Mrs. Feldman corrected him with the lift of a brow.
"Not for this problem," denied Fenton without elaborating as he released Sweetheart's collar.
"Oh," she mouthed. "Oh!" she gasped realizing how close Sweetheart had come to making the problem worse. "Of course! I'm so sorry," she apologized again as she turned and headed back to her house pulling Sweetheart along with her.
"That was close," said Frank.
Fenton nodded. "I'll have to ask Laura to make her a pie or something," he said. "We don't want to alienate our neighbors."
Frank shook his head. "The Feldmans are nice," he told his dad. He and Joe had interacted with them more that their dad had. "Mrs. Feldman's father was a police officer in Los Angles," Frank informed him. "I'm sure she isn't surprised by what goes on in this neighborhood."
The roar of approaching sirens drowned Frank's voice out. In no time at all the block was sealed off and the truck was being inspected. A member of the bomb squad expertly maneuvered his hand so that Frank could release the handle and leave the immediate area with his father.
Over an hour later the bomb squad and police, except for Chief Collig who remained behind to talk with the Hardys over coffee, had left the area. Even the truck had been impounded and taken to headquarters.
"Frank, why don't you check out Mayhem's old address?" suggested Fenton. "Maybe you can find something to tell you where he might have gone." Frank nodded his acquiescence. "I'll go to the university and sift through his office and lab." Fenton ended.
"Here," Frank said, pulling out the keys from Dean Ravelson. "This one is to Mayhem's lab," he showed his dad the correct key.
"Thank you," Fenton acknowledged, taking the set of keys.
"And I will call Laura if Forensics comes up with anything conclusive," Collig put in. He scowled, wishing there was more he could do. "I would like to be kept informed on your investigation?" he requested.
"Every twenty-four hours," Fenton promised.
"Be careful," Laura said, grasping Frank's arm as he stood up to leave. "He will probably be after you next."
"No, he won't," Frank denied with conviction.
"Why are you so sure?" Fenton demanded, his brown eyes narrowed on Frank speculatively.
"I..uh..." Frank stuttered, not wanting to betray Joe's confidence.
"Frank, if you know something that's going on then you need to tell us," Fenton pushed; then used his trump card. "Joe's life could depend on it."
"I think Mayhem may have hypnotized or brainwashed Joe, and Craig, into believing something," Frank answered a bit hesitantly.
"What?" Fenton demanded sharply.
"Joe thought..." Frank broke off again and looked warily at Chief Collig.
"Whatever it is, it will not go beyond this room," Collig promised.
"Joe thinks he's a...a werewolf," Frank finally spit it out. "And I'm pretty sure Crag did too," he continued ready to talk once he had gotten over the initial hurtle. "Joe, and Craig from what I've heard, started acting weird after encountering Mayhem. Neither of them trusted him and they both started reading about werewolves before they disappeared."
"Son, just because Joe took an interest in werewolves doesn't mean he thinks he is one," Laura said calmly. "I was really into vampires in my teens but I never believed they actually existed let alone thought I was one!"
"But Joe told me he did," Frank explained. "I even scratched him to prove he wasn't." Collig lifted a brow. "The scratch didn't heal. I think I convinced him Mayhem and Anderson were playing with his mind but..."
"Anderson?" Collig snapped, his brows drawing together.
"Yeah. I think whatever Anderson did to him that night reinforced whatever idea Mayhem planted in his mind," Frank answered, his brown eyes hard.
"You could be right," agreed Fenton. He had never seen Joe as shaken as he had been the morning they had rescued him from the cellar where Anderson and Aliem had held him captive.
"I'll have Anderson's place searched again," Collig declared. "And I will question him myself." He looked at Frank. "Don't worry, I won't say anything about Joe thinking he's a werewolf."
"But if he does believe it, how are we going to convince him he isn't?" Laura demanded in a trembling voice.
"Wait until the next full moon and prove it to him," stated Frank. "If we can stop Mayhem from doing any more damage, that is. I think Joe may be having doubts about it now."
Chief Collig left about five minutes later and Frank headed outside to the van. His cell went off before he had time to start the motor.
"Frank," Callie's voice came through. "Vanessa just stopped by and we were wondering if you and Joe wanted to go to the beach. That is, if he's feeling any better?"
"Joe was kidnapped last night," Frank informed her. "Mayhem chloroformed him and took him before I got home last night."
"Mayhem? Are you sure it was he?" Callie demanded. Hadn't Frank thought Joe was off base about suspecting him before?
"I'm sure," replied Frank. "The truck he stole was parked down the street and a bomb attached to it this morning. He had to of known dad and I would check it out."
"So he's trying to kill you and keep Joe?" Callie asked, perplexed. "That doesn't make any sense."
"It's complicated," Frank admitted but didn't elaborate. "I'm on my way to his old place now to see if I can find anything. I'll call you later."
"No! Wait!" Callie shouted before he could disconnect. "Come by and pick us up," she ordered. "Three sets of eyes are better than one."
"Are you sure?" asked Frank. "Mayhem isn't stable. It could be dangerous."
Callie looked at Vanessa who had a determined look in her eyes as she gave a curt nod. "We're sure," Callie stated, leaning away from Vanessa now that Frank had finished talking about Joe. "We'll be waiting outside."
***
Joe's stomach growled before he opened his eyes. He tried to move but found himself chained to the bed. He yanked on the chains and turned with a snarl as Mayhem unlocked his cage.
"Breakfast," Mayhem said cheerily.
"Don't you have to work?" Joe demanded grumpily.
"You are my work," Mayhem replied smiling down at Joe. "Now, open wide and take a bite," he said, holding a sausage biscuit out to Joe.
"Aren't you afraid I'll bite you?" Joe snapped.
"Now, why would you do that?" Mayhem demanded in amusement. "Without me to take care of you, you would die down here and if you are anything like Fang and Goria," he added glancing over at the two wolves, "you would die of starvation pretty quick. Did you know that they consume twenty pounds of raw meat, each, a day?"
Joe gave a low growl of frustration but took a huge bite of the sausage biscuit. Soon, Joe had devoured the large breakfast Mayhem had brought him and Mayhem set the empty tray on the floor.
"What did you do with Craig?" asked Joe wondering what his own fate was going to be.
"Ah, yes, tragic," replied Mayhem with a frown. "Jonathan got lose and came after me. I I had to kill him but I wasn't too upset because Jonathan had already gotten close enough to Craig to turn him. Just a scratch, like you, but it was enough."
He looked at Joe speculatively. "I suppose Craig's death can be blamed on legend," he continued. "Allegedly, only a silver bullet can kill a werewolf. And while that does work, the legend fails to tell that the silver bullet method only holds true when the man has already morphed into the wolf. As a man, he can still die. Craig managed to get hold of a scalpel in the basement of my house and cut himself," Mayhem explained. "He bled to death before he could transform."
"None of this makes any sense," said Joe. "The moon wasn't full the night I got scratched, if I even did," he added. "So how did it heal so fast? Frank scratched me yesterday and it hasn't healed."
Mayhem's smile returned. "Ah, but I have in my possession something than can effect the change even when the moon is not full. It was still on campus when Craig was hurt and I didn't get it back to my house in enough time to prevent his demise."
"What?" Joe wanted to know.
"It's a rock from the moon," Mayhem answered. "A gift from NASA several years ago. So you see, now I don't have to worry about losing you. I will just measure your vital signs until you are almost too weak to survive then allow the moon rock to work its magic.
"I need to find out how long it takes for you to heal while you are under the moon's influence and then I want to find out how lifeless you have to be before the moon loses some of its healing powers," he ended.
"But if you do that, you might actually kill me," Joe tried to reason with him. "Then you wouldn't have any werewolf."
"Ah, but I have samples of you blood," Mayhem told him. "Should you die, and at some point I am sure you will but hopefully that won't be for several months, then I will simply find someone and inject your blood into him or her."
"But what if it isn't the blood that turns them?" argued Joe as Mayhem removed a knife from a sheath around his leg. "I'm the one who bled when I got scratched. Not Craig or Jonathan, or whichever one it was."
"Hmm," Mayhem commented, pausing thoughtfully. "You aren't as dumb as I thought you were. An interesting theory and one I shall have to check out. But don't worry, I shan't let you get too far-gone just yet. There are many experiments I wish to perform. This is but one," he ended and brought the knife down with force into Joe's abdomen.