By the time Frank had put the van into park and gotten out, Chief Pennington was already at the front door of the house. One of the other two officers had gone around to the back and a third had gone to the side in case the occupant tried to slip away.
One minute after Frank joined Chief Pennington at the front door it opened to reveal the officer who had gone around to the rear. "The back door was open, Sir," reported Sergeant Conroy.
"Let's search the place," Pennington ordered. "Remember, we are looking for Joe Hardy or Boris Mayhem or anything that could prove they were here."
The house had obviously been lived in and there was ample evidence of Mayhem's habitation but nothing to place Joe there until the basement was discovered.
Sergeant Conroy was the first to reach the bottom of the steps; his eyes automatically drawn to the contrast of red against white behind the bars of a cage. "Sir," he said, turning to the chief and partially obstructing the view. "Perhaps Frank should wait upstairs," he suggested.
The chief took one look at Frank's determined expression then gave a slight nod to Conroy to indicate he should step aside. The sergeant set his lips together in a thin, disapproving line and stepped aside. The others stepped down from the stairs and stared in horror at the blood soaked bed.
"No," whispered Frank who began to tremble.
Pennington placed a hand on Frank's shoulder. "Easy, Son," he said softly. "It may not be Joe's." Frank closed his eyes, swallowed, and nodded. Pennington could be right he thought. It could be Craig's blood.
"Don't touch anything," Pennington ordered. "It's time to call in Forensics."
Frank returned to the van and sat down to wait for the Forensics team to arrive. He sat there for a few minutes fighting to bring his emotions under control. When he had arrived home to find Joe missing the previous night he had been angry and filled with guilt for not trusting Joe's instincts about Dr. Mayhem. Now, all he felt was terror and helplessness.
Sure, the blood could have belonged to Craig but his gut instinct was screaming at him that it was Joe's blood all over the cot in the basement. He was certain that Craig was already dead even though his body hadn't been found. He couldn't see any other reason for Mayhem needing Joe. Or did he need Joe? There was so much blood.
Frank shivered and took a deep breath then pulled out his cell phone and called home. "Mom," he greeted her when she answered.
"Frank, did you find him?" Laura demanded anxiously.
"No," he admitted. "I am at the place where they were," he continued. "But it's going to be awhile. I probably won't be home until late."
"All right," acknowledged Laura fighting to control the tears that threatened. No matter how many times one of her children had been kidnapped, each time felt like the first and this time she heard something in Frank's voice she hadn't heard before and it terrified her. "Be..be careful," she pleaded.
"I will," he promised.
"I love you," she told him before he could hang up.
"I love you too," he returned then said goodbye and hung up as the chief exited the house and headed his way.
"I'm going back to the rental agency," Pennington informed Frank. "I thought you might want to come with me while the Forensics team do their thing."
"Please," agreed Frank at once, grateful for something to do.
When they arrived at the realty agency they found Paul Langley, the chief realtor and owner of General Realty, had returned. "Chief Pennington, what can I do for you?" Langley inquired as the chief and Frank entered the office.
"We're here about the house you rent to Boris Mayhem," Chief Pennington said. "The one at 4349 Blayne Drive."
"Is there some problem?" Langley inquired, caught completely unaware.
"Didn't Mr. Blevins tell you that we had to have a search warrant to obtain the address earlier?" asked Frank looking over at Blevins who ceased his movements at the copier at Frank's question.
"No," Langley answered. "But then, I've only arrived and haven't had a chance to actually talk with him."
"Dr. Mayhem is a suspect in a kidnapping," Chief Pennington told the agent. "We've just been to the house and he was there but is no longer. We would like to see all the information you have on Mayhem," he requested.
"Of course," Langley agreed at once. "What was the address again?" he inquired, sitting down at his computer.
"4349 Blayne Drive," the chief repeated.
Langley typed it in. "Aaron," he said looking over at Blevins. "This is yours," he stated. "You should be able to tell the police everything they need to know."
"He knows everything about this residence?" asked Frank his eyes narrowing on Blevins.
"Of course," Langley replied proudly. "It's one of the reasons we're the best realty company in the state. We know each address, person, and everything about the property that we handle."
"So your agent wouldn't have to spend several minutes searching through a file for an address?" Pennington inquired, his gaze focusing on Blevins who was beginning to look like a cornered rat.
"That is correct," Langley acknowledged.
"Mr. Langley, do you have a way of tracking phone calls made from your office?" asked Frank with a sick feeling in his stomach.
"Yes, we do," Langley affirmed. "Each phone number is logged so we can keep track of our expenses and the time spent on each client. Why?"
Chief Pennington moved to Blevins' desk with his gun drawn. "Mr. Blevins, I hereby place you under arrest for suspicion to being an accessory to kidnapping and for obstructing an investigation."
"What?" Langley gasped as Pennington began reading Blevins his rights.
"We will need your log," Frank told Langley. "And we still need everything your agency possesses on the property on Blayne Drive."
"Of...of course," Langley agreed. "But that will have to be photocopied."
"That will be fine," Pennington said. "Thank you." He turned to Frank. "Wait for the information while I run this guy in. I'll be back soon."
When Pennington returned an hour later he informed Frank that Blevins had confessed to warning Mayhem someone was looking for him.
"Figures," replied Frank with a scowl. "Mayhem's been paying rent on that place for ten years for his sister who only uses it for a couple of months out of the year."
"Did you get a permanent address for the sister?" inquired Pennington as he and Frank got into the squad car.
"There wasn't one," answered Frank. "Since Mayhem was the person paying the bills they only kept his address on file and the last address was for his place in Bayport."
The two returned to the house in silence. "Sir, Forensics have finished and returned to the station," Officer Conroy reported. "I asked some of the neighbors about this place. They all confirmed that a man fitting Boris Mayhem's description was seen driving a blue Chevy van in the area."
"Good work, Conroy," Pennington congratulated him. "Have you searched the house yet?"
"Negative, Sir," was the response. "I was just getting ready to."
"I'll help," Pennington said and led the way inside.
Frank went straight for the basement. He was positive Joe had been kept there and he knew if there were a lead that it would be down there. Frank froze in surprise when he reached the last step. The place was empty and clean.
"Forensics took everything," Conroy told Frank from behind. Frank turned to look at him. "I'm sure the chief will let you know the results as soon as he does."
"You're right," agreed Frank. "And Forensics will do a thorough job and I'm not really allowed to help with the search anyway," he admitted ruefully.
Frank returned upstairs and waited for the police to finish. Fortunately, it didn't take long for it seemed, apart from the basement, Mayhem had only occupied the kitchen and one bedroom.
With a sigh of relief, Frank climbed into the van and followed the police back to headquarters. He hated waiting and yet that was all he had been doing since his arrival in Southport.
At the station, Chief Pennington left Frank in his office while he went to the Forensics lab to check the status on the investigation. When he returned he was carrying a stack of papers almost four inches thick.
"Well?" demanded Frank eagerly.
"It's too soon," Pennington told Frank who seemed to crumple before his eyes. "However," he added causing Frank to perk up with interest. "These are photocopies of the papers taken from the basement. I do want these back," he stressed. "But you may take them home and go over them. I will call you just as soon as I get the results from Forensics," he promised.
"Thanks," said Frank standing up and taking the stack of papers. "For everything," he added as he left the station.
Frank headed back to Bayport at maximum speed. He didn't have to wait for the report to tell him what he already knew: that had been Joe's blood and if he weren't dead already, he soon would be.
One minute after Frank joined Chief Pennington at the front door it opened to reveal the officer who had gone around to the rear. "The back door was open, Sir," reported Sergeant Conroy.
"Let's search the place," Pennington ordered. "Remember, we are looking for Joe Hardy or Boris Mayhem or anything that could prove they were here."
The house had obviously been lived in and there was ample evidence of Mayhem's habitation but nothing to place Joe there until the basement was discovered.
Sergeant Conroy was the first to reach the bottom of the steps; his eyes automatically drawn to the contrast of red against white behind the bars of a cage. "Sir," he said, turning to the chief and partially obstructing the view. "Perhaps Frank should wait upstairs," he suggested.
The chief took one look at Frank's determined expression then gave a slight nod to Conroy to indicate he should step aside. The sergeant set his lips together in a thin, disapproving line and stepped aside. The others stepped down from the stairs and stared in horror at the blood soaked bed.
"No," whispered Frank who began to tremble.
Pennington placed a hand on Frank's shoulder. "Easy, Son," he said softly. "It may not be Joe's." Frank closed his eyes, swallowed, and nodded. Pennington could be right he thought. It could be Craig's blood.
"Don't touch anything," Pennington ordered. "It's time to call in Forensics."
Frank returned to the van and sat down to wait for the Forensics team to arrive. He sat there for a few minutes fighting to bring his emotions under control. When he had arrived home to find Joe missing the previous night he had been angry and filled with guilt for not trusting Joe's instincts about Dr. Mayhem. Now, all he felt was terror and helplessness.
Sure, the blood could have belonged to Craig but his gut instinct was screaming at him that it was Joe's blood all over the cot in the basement. He was certain that Craig was already dead even though his body hadn't been found. He couldn't see any other reason for Mayhem needing Joe. Or did he need Joe? There was so much blood.
Frank shivered and took a deep breath then pulled out his cell phone and called home. "Mom," he greeted her when she answered.
"Frank, did you find him?" Laura demanded anxiously.
"No," he admitted. "I am at the place where they were," he continued. "But it's going to be awhile. I probably won't be home until late."
"All right," acknowledged Laura fighting to control the tears that threatened. No matter how many times one of her children had been kidnapped, each time felt like the first and this time she heard something in Frank's voice she hadn't heard before and it terrified her. "Be..be careful," she pleaded.
"I will," he promised.
"I love you," she told him before he could hang up.
"I love you too," he returned then said goodbye and hung up as the chief exited the house and headed his way.
"I'm going back to the rental agency," Pennington informed Frank. "I thought you might want to come with me while the Forensics team do their thing."
"Please," agreed Frank at once, grateful for something to do.
When they arrived at the realty agency they found Paul Langley, the chief realtor and owner of General Realty, had returned. "Chief Pennington, what can I do for you?" Langley inquired as the chief and Frank entered the office.
"We're here about the house you rent to Boris Mayhem," Chief Pennington said. "The one at 4349 Blayne Drive."
"Is there some problem?" Langley inquired, caught completely unaware.
"Didn't Mr. Blevins tell you that we had to have a search warrant to obtain the address earlier?" asked Frank looking over at Blevins who ceased his movements at the copier at Frank's question.
"No," Langley answered. "But then, I've only arrived and haven't had a chance to actually talk with him."
"Dr. Mayhem is a suspect in a kidnapping," Chief Pennington told the agent. "We've just been to the house and he was there but is no longer. We would like to see all the information you have on Mayhem," he requested.
"Of course," Langley agreed at once. "What was the address again?" he inquired, sitting down at his computer.
"4349 Blayne Drive," the chief repeated.
Langley typed it in. "Aaron," he said looking over at Blevins. "This is yours," he stated. "You should be able to tell the police everything they need to know."
"He knows everything about this residence?" asked Frank his eyes narrowing on Blevins.
"Of course," Langley replied proudly. "It's one of the reasons we're the best realty company in the state. We know each address, person, and everything about the property that we handle."
"So your agent wouldn't have to spend several minutes searching through a file for an address?" Pennington inquired, his gaze focusing on Blevins who was beginning to look like a cornered rat.
"That is correct," Langley acknowledged.
"Mr. Langley, do you have a way of tracking phone calls made from your office?" asked Frank with a sick feeling in his stomach.
"Yes, we do," Langley affirmed. "Each phone number is logged so we can keep track of our expenses and the time spent on each client. Why?"
Chief Pennington moved to Blevins' desk with his gun drawn. "Mr. Blevins, I hereby place you under arrest for suspicion to being an accessory to kidnapping and for obstructing an investigation."
"What?" Langley gasped as Pennington began reading Blevins his rights.
"We will need your log," Frank told Langley. "And we still need everything your agency possesses on the property on Blayne Drive."
"Of...of course," Langley agreed. "But that will have to be photocopied."
"That will be fine," Pennington said. "Thank you." He turned to Frank. "Wait for the information while I run this guy in. I'll be back soon."
When Pennington returned an hour later he informed Frank that Blevins had confessed to warning Mayhem someone was looking for him.
"Figures," replied Frank with a scowl. "Mayhem's been paying rent on that place for ten years for his sister who only uses it for a couple of months out of the year."
"Did you get a permanent address for the sister?" inquired Pennington as he and Frank got into the squad car.
"There wasn't one," answered Frank. "Since Mayhem was the person paying the bills they only kept his address on file and the last address was for his place in Bayport."
The two returned to the house in silence. "Sir, Forensics have finished and returned to the station," Officer Conroy reported. "I asked some of the neighbors about this place. They all confirmed that a man fitting Boris Mayhem's description was seen driving a blue Chevy van in the area."
"Good work, Conroy," Pennington congratulated him. "Have you searched the house yet?"
"Negative, Sir," was the response. "I was just getting ready to."
"I'll help," Pennington said and led the way inside.
Frank went straight for the basement. He was positive Joe had been kept there and he knew if there were a lead that it would be down there. Frank froze in surprise when he reached the last step. The place was empty and clean.
"Forensics took everything," Conroy told Frank from behind. Frank turned to look at him. "I'm sure the chief will let you know the results as soon as he does."
"You're right," agreed Frank. "And Forensics will do a thorough job and I'm not really allowed to help with the search anyway," he admitted ruefully.
Frank returned upstairs and waited for the police to finish. Fortunately, it didn't take long for it seemed, apart from the basement, Mayhem had only occupied the kitchen and one bedroom.
With a sigh of relief, Frank climbed into the van and followed the police back to headquarters. He hated waiting and yet that was all he had been doing since his arrival in Southport.
At the station, Chief Pennington left Frank in his office while he went to the Forensics lab to check the status on the investigation. When he returned he was carrying a stack of papers almost four inches thick.
"Well?" demanded Frank eagerly.
"It's too soon," Pennington told Frank who seemed to crumple before his eyes. "However," he added causing Frank to perk up with interest. "These are photocopies of the papers taken from the basement. I do want these back," he stressed. "But you may take them home and go over them. I will call you just as soon as I get the results from Forensics," he promised.
"Thanks," said Frank standing up and taking the stack of papers. "For everything," he added as he left the station.
Frank headed back to Bayport at maximum speed. He didn't have to wait for the report to tell him what he already knew: that had been Joe's blood and if he weren't dead already, he soon would be.