Chapter 5
"Where are we going now?" Frank asked, making himself comfortable on the passenger's seat of the brothers' van. They had done and learnt everything could from the security officers, so Fenton suggested they leave.
"Home," Fenton answered, already anticipating what was coming next.
Frank looked at him with surprise in his eyes, "Home? Why? What we going to do there?"
"There you are going to change into dry and warm clothes, because you're all soaked through after lying on the cold ground under the rain. And then you're going to take medicine so not to fall sick," Fenton pulled the van out of the parking lot and onto the road and started toward Elm street.
Frank felt words fail him. Undoubtedly, changing into dry clothes was needed, but this could wait. "Joe and Chet are more important now!" he said to his father after a pause.
"The three of you are equally important to me now and so is your safety," Fenton replied. "Frank, I know you're going to protest...."
"Of course I am going to protest!" Frank interrupted him, knowing what he was going to say. "I am not going to sit and wait for the situation to be solved on its own!"
"It's not going to be solved on its own and I'll make sure of that! I just hope that you'll understand how much knowing that you're safe at home means to me right now, when Newman is not only somewhere around, but already has your brother and Chet."
"Well, first of all, I can be safe being where you are and helping you look for them," Frank argued firmly. "And secondly, I can take care of myself and make sure nothing happens to me!"
"Isn't it what Joe's always saying?" Fenton asked quietly.
Silence fell between them. Frank opened his mouth to argue, but the closed it, having to agree with his father unreservedly. Joe indeed was always saying that – where was he now?
"But-but Dad," Frank finally said, calmer and quieter. "Dad, I can't sit at home and wait. I-I'll go mad if I do! I want to help."
"You are going to help! Listen to me. After I drop you off at home, I'll have to leave – I'll take some things and go to work on this with Collig, we have to draw a plan of action. But there's something you can do for me. I'll give you the files on Newman's victims. If you want, you can call your friends and work together, if their parents agree to let them come. It's all going to be new to you, so maybe you'll notice something important that seems nothing serious to me – something that'll tell us where to search for Joe and Chet."
Frank thought for a moment. This, of course, was better than nothing. But they had to seek out, not think of where to look for them.
"Agree?"
"Do I have a choice?"
Fenton sighed, "Frank, don't be mad at me. It's enough he has two of them, I don't want anything to happen to you, too."
"I understand, Dad," Frank said. "But I'd rather be looking for them."
"Without a good idea where to look you're just going to waste your time."
Frank fell silent, thinking. There should be something they could do to rescue Joe and Chet before it's too late. He sighed, "This is just so crazy," he said, lowering his head. "So stupid and unfair."
Fenton put a hand on his shoulder, his eyes still on the road. "We'll get through this," he said. Laconically, lamely – he knew. But he couldn't say anything else. To tell Frank it's going to be alright – he couldn't promise it; to face the truth would mean giving up....
Frank found no words to reply to that. He sighed and looked out of the window at the row of accurate houses that flew past them as they continued to ride in silence. The first raindrops hit the windscreen, soon the storm would break. Frank felt gloomier at the thought. Wherever Joe and Chet were, he prayed they weren't cold and wet.... However would it matter if they were in agony?.... Frank threw his head back and closed his eyes, hoping his father wouldn't notice tears in his eyes.
The house stood dark and gloomy in the rain, and Frank was glad to find himself inside. But despite of the light from the lamps and warmth, he still couldn't shake off the feeling of how cold and oppressive the emptiness without Joe was.
Fenton went to his study while Frank went upstairs to change into dry and warm clothes. He deliberately avoided looking at the door that led to his brother's room for he knew it would tear him apart and minutes later came back downstairs into the living room. Sighing, the teen picked up the phone and called Phil. He hated to do this, but without anyone he'd drive himself mad in the empty house, thinking about Joe.
"What??" Phil exclaimed at the news. "Both of them? Oh my...." No sound came from the other side of the line for a few moments. "Frank.... How are you holding up?"
"Am I really?" Frank chuckled bitterly. He didn't have the heart to ask him to come over and help him read the files on Newman's victims.
"Do you want me and the other guys to come?" Phil asked, as if reading his mind.
"I'd really appreciate it," Frank replied, grateful he didn't have to say it out loud.
"We'll be there ASAP, hold on there," Phil said and hung up.
Frank out the received down the moment his father went out of his study with a pile of folders in his hands, "I'm going away now," he said to his son. "You called anyone?"
Frank nodded, "They'll be here in no time."
"Good. Turn the alarm on, okay? And be careful," Fenton said, looking him in the eyes. "I know you can take care of yourself, but still.... Call me if anything, okay?"
"You too," Frank said, watching him put on his coat. "When will you be back?"
"I don't know," his father replied. "As soon as we come up with an idea, I guess."
"Find them," Frank asked.
Instead of answering, Fenton just pulled him into a hug, patted him on a shoulder and disappeared into the night. Suddenly Frank felt very alone in helpless, standing in a big, quiet and empty house. And it scared him. Joe was the main source of noise here; if anything happened to him, depressing silence would settle in....
"Come back to us," he pleaded into the quietness. "Alive. And in one piece," he added, staggered by how a common saying sent chills down his spine.
A few minutes later the doorbell went off. Biff stood close to the door, under the overhang, a heavy shower on the background.
"Phil called," he said, coming inside and taking his damp coat off. "The other guys should be here in moments. How are you, buddy?"
Frank shuddered his shoulders, sighing. "Want tea or something?" he offered to change the subject.
Tony and Phil arrived five minutes later and joined the two in the living room where Frank told them about the day's events.
"Oh man," Tony muttered when Frank had finished. "They're in huge trouble, aren't they? But the police is attached to this, right?"
"The problem is," Frank said, lowering his head, "that it's too dark to send officers to search for them. Besides, it's stormy," as to prove himself right, he glanced out of the window where jets of rainwater were rolling down the glass. "Dad and the Chief are 'drawing a plan of action' now," he finished, annoyance and despair in his voice.
"But we can't waste time, can we?" Phil asked quietly, watching Frank with horror in his eyes. "Because they don't have it, do they?"
"How much time has passed since they were kidnapped?" Biff asked.
Frank looked at his watch which read 8 in the evening, "3 and 1.5 hours accordingly," he said, his voice wavering. There hours were more than enough to cut their fingers off....
"Frank?" Tony called, knowing what was on his mind. "Did anyone ever manage to escape from him?"
Frank shook his head, leaning back in his armchair, "No one."
What seemed scary was turning into terrifying now. The four sat in silence, in awe-stuck state of minds for a few moments before Tony finally spoke, "But we're not going to sit like this, are we? Frank, what does your father always say about the most precise criminals?"
"They make mistakes anyway," Frank replied, a barely visible smile on his face. What had he done to deserve his friends? "Dad wants us to look through the files on Newman's...victims...to see if we can spot anything that can lead us to where he is keeping Joe and Chet."
"What are we waiting for, then?" Biff asked.
"I'll bring them," Frank stood up from his place. On his way to his father's study he couldn't stop the inner voice that was screaming at him inside – "how much time have you already lost??"....
"Where are we going now?" Frank asked, making himself comfortable on the passenger's seat of the brothers' van. They had done and learnt everything could from the security officers, so Fenton suggested they leave.
"Home," Fenton answered, already anticipating what was coming next.
Frank looked at him with surprise in his eyes, "Home? Why? What we going to do there?"
"There you are going to change into dry and warm clothes, because you're all soaked through after lying on the cold ground under the rain. And then you're going to take medicine so not to fall sick," Fenton pulled the van out of the parking lot and onto the road and started toward Elm street.
Frank felt words fail him. Undoubtedly, changing into dry clothes was needed, but this could wait. "Joe and Chet are more important now!" he said to his father after a pause.
"The three of you are equally important to me now and so is your safety," Fenton replied. "Frank, I know you're going to protest...."
"Of course I am going to protest!" Frank interrupted him, knowing what he was going to say. "I am not going to sit and wait for the situation to be solved on its own!"
"It's not going to be solved on its own and I'll make sure of that! I just hope that you'll understand how much knowing that you're safe at home means to me right now, when Newman is not only somewhere around, but already has your brother and Chet."
"Well, first of all, I can be safe being where you are and helping you look for them," Frank argued firmly. "And secondly, I can take care of myself and make sure nothing happens to me!"
"Isn't it what Joe's always saying?" Fenton asked quietly.
Silence fell between them. Frank opened his mouth to argue, but the closed it, having to agree with his father unreservedly. Joe indeed was always saying that – where was he now?
"But-but Dad," Frank finally said, calmer and quieter. "Dad, I can't sit at home and wait. I-I'll go mad if I do! I want to help."
"You are going to help! Listen to me. After I drop you off at home, I'll have to leave – I'll take some things and go to work on this with Collig, we have to draw a plan of action. But there's something you can do for me. I'll give you the files on Newman's victims. If you want, you can call your friends and work together, if their parents agree to let them come. It's all going to be new to you, so maybe you'll notice something important that seems nothing serious to me – something that'll tell us where to search for Joe and Chet."
Frank thought for a moment. This, of course, was better than nothing. But they had to seek out, not think of where to look for them.
"Agree?"
"Do I have a choice?"
Fenton sighed, "Frank, don't be mad at me. It's enough he has two of them, I don't want anything to happen to you, too."
"I understand, Dad," Frank said. "But I'd rather be looking for them."
"Without a good idea where to look you're just going to waste your time."
Frank fell silent, thinking. There should be something they could do to rescue Joe and Chet before it's too late. He sighed, "This is just so crazy," he said, lowering his head. "So stupid and unfair."
Fenton put a hand on his shoulder, his eyes still on the road. "We'll get through this," he said. Laconically, lamely – he knew. But he couldn't say anything else. To tell Frank it's going to be alright – he couldn't promise it; to face the truth would mean giving up....
Frank found no words to reply to that. He sighed and looked out of the window at the row of accurate houses that flew past them as they continued to ride in silence. The first raindrops hit the windscreen, soon the storm would break. Frank felt gloomier at the thought. Wherever Joe and Chet were, he prayed they weren't cold and wet.... However would it matter if they were in agony?.... Frank threw his head back and closed his eyes, hoping his father wouldn't notice tears in his eyes.
The house stood dark and gloomy in the rain, and Frank was glad to find himself inside. But despite of the light from the lamps and warmth, he still couldn't shake off the feeling of how cold and oppressive the emptiness without Joe was.
Fenton went to his study while Frank went upstairs to change into dry and warm clothes. He deliberately avoided looking at the door that led to his brother's room for he knew it would tear him apart and minutes later came back downstairs into the living room. Sighing, the teen picked up the phone and called Phil. He hated to do this, but without anyone he'd drive himself mad in the empty house, thinking about Joe.
"What??" Phil exclaimed at the news. "Both of them? Oh my...." No sound came from the other side of the line for a few moments. "Frank.... How are you holding up?"
"Am I really?" Frank chuckled bitterly. He didn't have the heart to ask him to come over and help him read the files on Newman's victims.
"Do you want me and the other guys to come?" Phil asked, as if reading his mind.
"I'd really appreciate it," Frank replied, grateful he didn't have to say it out loud.
"We'll be there ASAP, hold on there," Phil said and hung up.
Frank out the received down the moment his father went out of his study with a pile of folders in his hands, "I'm going away now," he said to his son. "You called anyone?"
Frank nodded, "They'll be here in no time."
"Good. Turn the alarm on, okay? And be careful," Fenton said, looking him in the eyes. "I know you can take care of yourself, but still.... Call me if anything, okay?"
"You too," Frank said, watching him put on his coat. "When will you be back?"
"I don't know," his father replied. "As soon as we come up with an idea, I guess."
"Find them," Frank asked.
Instead of answering, Fenton just pulled him into a hug, patted him on a shoulder and disappeared into the night. Suddenly Frank felt very alone in helpless, standing in a big, quiet and empty house. And it scared him. Joe was the main source of noise here; if anything happened to him, depressing silence would settle in....
"Come back to us," he pleaded into the quietness. "Alive. And in one piece," he added, staggered by how a common saying sent chills down his spine.
A few minutes later the doorbell went off. Biff stood close to the door, under the overhang, a heavy shower on the background.
"Phil called," he said, coming inside and taking his damp coat off. "The other guys should be here in moments. How are you, buddy?"
Frank shuddered his shoulders, sighing. "Want tea or something?" he offered to change the subject.
Tony and Phil arrived five minutes later and joined the two in the living room where Frank told them about the day's events.
"Oh man," Tony muttered when Frank had finished. "They're in huge trouble, aren't they? But the police is attached to this, right?"
"The problem is," Frank said, lowering his head, "that it's too dark to send officers to search for them. Besides, it's stormy," as to prove himself right, he glanced out of the window where jets of rainwater were rolling down the glass. "Dad and the Chief are 'drawing a plan of action' now," he finished, annoyance and despair in his voice.
"But we can't waste time, can we?" Phil asked quietly, watching Frank with horror in his eyes. "Because they don't have it, do they?"
"How much time has passed since they were kidnapped?" Biff asked.
Frank looked at his watch which read 8 in the evening, "3 and 1.5 hours accordingly," he said, his voice wavering. There hours were more than enough to cut their fingers off....
"Frank?" Tony called, knowing what was on his mind. "Did anyone ever manage to escape from him?"
Frank shook his head, leaning back in his armchair, "No one."
What seemed scary was turning into terrifying now. The four sat in silence, in awe-stuck state of minds for a few moments before Tony finally spoke, "But we're not going to sit like this, are we? Frank, what does your father always say about the most precise criminals?"
"They make mistakes anyway," Frank replied, a barely visible smile on his face. What had he done to deserve his friends? "Dad wants us to look through the files on Newman's...victims...to see if we can spot anything that can lead us to where he is keeping Joe and Chet."
"What are we waiting for, then?" Biff asked.
"I'll bring them," Frank stood up from his place. On his way to his father's study he couldn't stop the inner voice that was screaming at him inside – "how much time have you already lost??"....