Frank finished the task his father had started and filed the new folders in the file cabinet. Next, he made a copy of the list of contacts he and his dad had made so that each of them would have a copy and placed his dad's copy beneath the computer keyboard. He folded the original and put it in the pocket on the front of his shirt.
He turned off the light and exited the office as he heard the kitchen door open. Dad must be back, he thought and picked up his pace. He slowed down again and whipped out his cell phone when it began to ring via the little song Joe had programmed into it.
"Frank, I should be home in about thirty more minutes," his father's voice came through. "Wait for me."
"What?" hissed Frank coming to a complete standstill between the living room and the dining room. If Dad's still at the station, who just came in the kitchen?
Before Frank could make up his mind on what he should do the kitchen door opened and Biff Hooper was framed in the entryway between the dining room and the kitchen. Frank let out a sigh of relief and his eyes flew automatically to the clock on the wall. Just enough time for his friends to have driven straight from school.
Frank held a finger to his lips then motioned for Biff to go back into the kitchen. "Frank?" Fenton asked, his voice thick with concern.
"Sorry, Dad," apologized Frank "I almost tripped over the jacket Biff left here the other night."
"Hmm, Joe should really return it," Fenton replied knowing Frank was sending him the message that reinforcements were there.
"Right," agreed Frank. "I'll see you in thirty minutes," he added and disconnected as he entered the kitchen.
"Spill," ordered Phil who was leaning against the counter near the door.
"How did you get in?" asked Frank curiously.
"It wasn't locked," Chet informed him.
Frank frowned. "We could have forgotten to lock it," he said, his forehead scrunched up.
"But doubtful," Callie put his thought in vocal form.
Frank nodded. "Phil, you, Callie and Vanessa look around in here for listening devices. The rest of you, let's search the place and make sure no one is here, but be quiet because some of the rooms are bugged."
Ten minutes later everyone was gathered back in the kitchen. "Nothing in here," Phil informed Frank.
"I guess we did just forget to lock the door," Frank admitted with a rueful grin. "Thanks for coming over."
"Tell us what's happening," Vanessa demanded, her pretty face showing wrinkles from the worry she was feeling. "Have you heard from Joe's kidnappers?"
"Yeah, " put in Chet. "Any leads?"
"No, we haven't heard from Joe's kidnappers," Frank said. "But we did hear from Joe. Well, Callie's mom did anyway," Frank amended.
"What?" gasped Callie, her brown eyes widening in shock.
Smiling, Frank told everyone about Joe's phone call to Mrs. Shaw. "Why would he call us?" Callie asked in puzzlement.
"Because he knew our lines were bugged and you're our closest neighbor whose number he knew?" Frank suggested with a shrug. "At any rate, dad's at headquarters now trying to get an address to go with the phone number."
"So Joe should be home in time for school tomorrow?" Vanessa asked, her gray eyes lighting up.
"Unless they move him before we can get there," Frank agreed. "And if they do, then we have a few leads to check out and for those we may need your help," he added, his lips dipping at the corners as the thought that they might not get Joe back took up residence in his mind.
"Just let us know," Phil said to the agreement of all.
"Dad should be here in a few minutes," Frank said, glancing at his wristwatch.
"Then we'll leave," Biff said. "Let us know as soon as you two get back. With or without Joe," he added.
Not long after his friends left Frank heard a car out front and looked out the window. He saw his dad pull into the garage and went to the garage via the kitchen to greet him.
"Well?" he demanded as his father got out of the car.
"The number belongs to a Mort Kline in Colorado," Fenton informed Frank. "He works for the CIA."
"Someone in the CIA is on Morrison's payroll?" demanded Frank in disbelief.
"No," answered Fenton. "Morrison must have put the number on the phones where Joe is being held in case he did get loose and manage to get a call out."
"Then we're back to nothing," said Frank angrily, pushing the door to the kitchen back open and leading the way inside.
"We still have the contacts from the files," Fenton said following Frank through the kitchen and into the dining room.
"Oh, I finished that," Frank said, pulling the paper from his pocket and turning around to look at his dad as he continued walking backwards into the living room. Before he had a chance to fold the paper he felt something crash down on the back of his head. As he fell to the floor, his dad came face to face with two of Morrison's goons.
He turned off the light and exited the office as he heard the kitchen door open. Dad must be back, he thought and picked up his pace. He slowed down again and whipped out his cell phone when it began to ring via the little song Joe had programmed into it.
"Frank, I should be home in about thirty more minutes," his father's voice came through. "Wait for me."
"What?" hissed Frank coming to a complete standstill between the living room and the dining room. If Dad's still at the station, who just came in the kitchen?
Before Frank could make up his mind on what he should do the kitchen door opened and Biff Hooper was framed in the entryway between the dining room and the kitchen. Frank let out a sigh of relief and his eyes flew automatically to the clock on the wall. Just enough time for his friends to have driven straight from school.
Frank held a finger to his lips then motioned for Biff to go back into the kitchen. "Frank?" Fenton asked, his voice thick with concern.
"Sorry, Dad," apologized Frank "I almost tripped over the jacket Biff left here the other night."
"Hmm, Joe should really return it," Fenton replied knowing Frank was sending him the message that reinforcements were there.
"Right," agreed Frank. "I'll see you in thirty minutes," he added and disconnected as he entered the kitchen.
"Spill," ordered Phil who was leaning against the counter near the door.
"How did you get in?" asked Frank curiously.
"It wasn't locked," Chet informed him.
Frank frowned. "We could have forgotten to lock it," he said, his forehead scrunched up.
"But doubtful," Callie put his thought in vocal form.
Frank nodded. "Phil, you, Callie and Vanessa look around in here for listening devices. The rest of you, let's search the place and make sure no one is here, but be quiet because some of the rooms are bugged."
Ten minutes later everyone was gathered back in the kitchen. "Nothing in here," Phil informed Frank.
"I guess we did just forget to lock the door," Frank admitted with a rueful grin. "Thanks for coming over."
"Tell us what's happening," Vanessa demanded, her pretty face showing wrinkles from the worry she was feeling. "Have you heard from Joe's kidnappers?"
"Yeah, " put in Chet. "Any leads?"
"No, we haven't heard from Joe's kidnappers," Frank said. "But we did hear from Joe. Well, Callie's mom did anyway," Frank amended.
"What?" gasped Callie, her brown eyes widening in shock.
Smiling, Frank told everyone about Joe's phone call to Mrs. Shaw. "Why would he call us?" Callie asked in puzzlement.
"Because he knew our lines were bugged and you're our closest neighbor whose number he knew?" Frank suggested with a shrug. "At any rate, dad's at headquarters now trying to get an address to go with the phone number."
"So Joe should be home in time for school tomorrow?" Vanessa asked, her gray eyes lighting up.
"Unless they move him before we can get there," Frank agreed. "And if they do, then we have a few leads to check out and for those we may need your help," he added, his lips dipping at the corners as the thought that they might not get Joe back took up residence in his mind.
"Just let us know," Phil said to the agreement of all.
"Dad should be here in a few minutes," Frank said, glancing at his wristwatch.
"Then we'll leave," Biff said. "Let us know as soon as you two get back. With or without Joe," he added.
Not long after his friends left Frank heard a car out front and looked out the window. He saw his dad pull into the garage and went to the garage via the kitchen to greet him.
"Well?" he demanded as his father got out of the car.
"The number belongs to a Mort Kline in Colorado," Fenton informed Frank. "He works for the CIA."
"Someone in the CIA is on Morrison's payroll?" demanded Frank in disbelief.
"No," answered Fenton. "Morrison must have put the number on the phones where Joe is being held in case he did get loose and manage to get a call out."
"Then we're back to nothing," said Frank angrily, pushing the door to the kitchen back open and leading the way inside.
"We still have the contacts from the files," Fenton said following Frank through the kitchen and into the dining room.
"Oh, I finished that," Frank said, pulling the paper from his pocket and turning around to look at his dad as he continued walking backwards into the living room. Before he had a chance to fold the paper he felt something crash down on the back of his head. As he fell to the floor, his dad came face to face with two of Morrison's goons.