Joe watched from his hiding place for Ken to put in an appearance. He would draw the secretary away from the office and then Jeff would deal with the dean. His blue eyes sparkled when he saw Ken pulling double time to reach the office. Seconds later Ken left with Goodman following close behind. He glanced at his watch then back to the end of the hallway. There was Jeff. He would get the dean to accompany him to Steve's room on the other side of campus where Steve would be feigning being ill. Well, almost faking, Joe amended silently. Steve had gotten sick after eating the Jell-O surprise for dessert. Apparently, he had a history of a mild allergic reaction to pineapple.
Joe waited for Jeff and the Dean to leave then left his hiding place and crouched at the Dean's door. He turned the knob. Locked. Oh, well, thought Joe, he had expected this. He quickly pried the lock open with the nail file he had taken from his personal grooming items and slipped inside.
Joe skipped the secretary's section and headed for the Dean's inner sanctum. Spying the file cabinet in the corner he went straight for it. Pulling open the drawer where Scottsdale would be he began searching but found nothing.
"Where would he keep the personnel files?" Joe wondered softly. His eyes flew to the computer. Surely the Dean's computer wouldn't be infected with the spy ware.
He took a seat in front of the keyboard and began running his fingers swiftly over the keys. Soon he was staring at Scottsdale's file in awe. He checked his other teachers. They all had similar references. Joe decided to search for the school's mission statement. He found it without too much trouble and read it through with a mixture of shock, anger, hurt and curiosity.
Joe found it hard to believe that the students had no idea why they were there and yet he was living proof that knowledge of the schools' true missive was not a prerequisite for attendance. It wasn't right that the students didn't know what was really going on. What if they didn't want to pursue this particular career choice?
I do, Joe thought, wiping his fingerprints from the keyboard with his shirtsleeve. But even so, Dad didn't tell me about this place. He just sent me here. Joe erased all evidence of his trespass and left the office. Returning to the room he shared with Jeff he considered being the perfect student but quickly eliminated the idea because while he wasn't a slacker, he did hate to study. He also considered breaking the rules just so he would be expelled but then he might never find out why he had been sent here in the first place. He heaved a heavy sigh as he turned the knob and opened his door. He would just have to be himself and see where that took him.
For some reason, he now felt less angry with his father for sending him here. There obviously was a reason besides the one he had been given and that made him feel infinitely better but he couldn't help but wonder if Frank knew the truth. The thought depressed him more than his exile. If Frank had known and hadn't told him...Joe shook his head. No, he decided. Frank wouldn't betray me like that.
Laura looked out the front window for the tenth time in twenty minutes and saw what she had grown to expect to see...nothing. She glanced at her watch again then stalked over to the chair where Agent Blaine sat watching her. "They're over three hours late and haven't called," she declared. "Do something!"
"I'll call Chief Collig," Blaine replied.
"Can we go and look for them?" begged Laura.
"No, ma'am," was the reply. "Relax. If they are out there, they will be found."
Biting her tongue to keep from yelling at him, she gave him a look that would turn milk to cheese before turning on her heel. "I'm going to go make a pie," she declared.
"A pie?" a startled Blaine inquired.
"I cook when I'm worried," she replied.
Agent Blaine watched her leave the room. "Those Hardys must eat very well," he murmured with a shake of his head. He could only guess how often the lone woman had to worry over her three men.
Laura pushed the kitchen door open and stepped inside. She took two steps toward the counter but was jerked back as a hand clamped over her mouth and she was pulled back into a hard body that had been positioned behind the kitchen door.
"Not a sound," Hartley whispered in her ear as he pushed a gun into her side.
Joe waited for Jeff and the Dean to leave then left his hiding place and crouched at the Dean's door. He turned the knob. Locked. Oh, well, thought Joe, he had expected this. He quickly pried the lock open with the nail file he had taken from his personal grooming items and slipped inside.
Joe skipped the secretary's section and headed for the Dean's inner sanctum. Spying the file cabinet in the corner he went straight for it. Pulling open the drawer where Scottsdale would be he began searching but found nothing.
"Where would he keep the personnel files?" Joe wondered softly. His eyes flew to the computer. Surely the Dean's computer wouldn't be infected with the spy ware.
He took a seat in front of the keyboard and began running his fingers swiftly over the keys. Soon he was staring at Scottsdale's file in awe. He checked his other teachers. They all had similar references. Joe decided to search for the school's mission statement. He found it without too much trouble and read it through with a mixture of shock, anger, hurt and curiosity.
Joe found it hard to believe that the students had no idea why they were there and yet he was living proof that knowledge of the schools' true missive was not a prerequisite for attendance. It wasn't right that the students didn't know what was really going on. What if they didn't want to pursue this particular career choice?
I do, Joe thought, wiping his fingerprints from the keyboard with his shirtsleeve. But even so, Dad didn't tell me about this place. He just sent me here. Joe erased all evidence of his trespass and left the office. Returning to the room he shared with Jeff he considered being the perfect student but quickly eliminated the idea because while he wasn't a slacker, he did hate to study. He also considered breaking the rules just so he would be expelled but then he might never find out why he had been sent here in the first place. He heaved a heavy sigh as he turned the knob and opened his door. He would just have to be himself and see where that took him.
For some reason, he now felt less angry with his father for sending him here. There obviously was a reason besides the one he had been given and that made him feel infinitely better but he couldn't help but wonder if Frank knew the truth. The thought depressed him more than his exile. If Frank had known and hadn't told him...Joe shook his head. No, he decided. Frank wouldn't betray me like that.
Laura looked out the front window for the tenth time in twenty minutes and saw what she had grown to expect to see...nothing. She glanced at her watch again then stalked over to the chair where Agent Blaine sat watching her. "They're over three hours late and haven't called," she declared. "Do something!"
"I'll call Chief Collig," Blaine replied.
"Can we go and look for them?" begged Laura.
"No, ma'am," was the reply. "Relax. If they are out there, they will be found."
Biting her tongue to keep from yelling at him, she gave him a look that would turn milk to cheese before turning on her heel. "I'm going to go make a pie," she declared.
"A pie?" a startled Blaine inquired.
"I cook when I'm worried," she replied.
Agent Blaine watched her leave the room. "Those Hardys must eat very well," he murmured with a shake of his head. He could only guess how often the lone woman had to worry over her three men.
Laura pushed the kitchen door open and stepped inside. She took two steps toward the counter but was jerked back as a hand clamped over her mouth and she was pulled back into a hard body that had been positioned behind the kitchen door.
"Not a sound," Hartley whispered in her ear as he pushed a gun into her side.