Frank raced across the room and grabbed the arm of the attempted assassin. Without missing a beat the man dropped the needle and brought back his other arm. The hand transformed into a fist and he let it fly at Frank's jaw.
Frank crashed back and fell to the floor. Waking at the unexpected commotion Joe saw the intruder and reached out. He yanked the mask from the man's face. The room was too dark for a good look but Joe did glimpse a square jaw line and a clean-shaven face before the culprit turned and fled.
Joe got out of bed and went to his brother. Frank, unhurt, glared at Joe. "Back in bed, now," he ordered in a firm but quiet voice. Recognizing the tone as one their father used when he brooked no argument, Joe hurried back to bed and pulled the quilt up to his waist.
"Are you all right?" Frank demanded, once again on his feet. He came to stand beside Joe.
"Never touched me," Joe assured him. "Unlike some," he couldn't resist adding.
Frank gave him a sour look. "What are you doing here?" Joe asked curiously.
"I couldn't sleep," Frank replied with a shrug not wanting Joe to know how worried he had really been. Joe was always teasing him about worrying too much but Frank knew it was times like these when there was no such thing as too much.
"Going to call the nurse?" asked Joe although he knew Frank wouldn't because he would get kicked out.
Frank shook his head. "The guy is long gone," he said. "I'll just stay here and make sure he doesn't come back," he added sitting down in the recliner and leaning back.
"But if he's long gone, whey would he come back?" Joe asked cheekily. Frank shot him another dark look. Joe smothered a laugh and lay back. He told Frank what the guy had looked like beneath the surgeon's mask.
"I'll keep an eye out for him tomorrow," Frank promised, yawning. Joe waited until Frank had fallen asleep then slipped out of bed and covered Frank up with his sheet. He returned to bed and pulled his quilt up. Turning on his side, he fell asleep.
A nurse came into the room a little later to check on Joe and frowned when she saw Frank sleeping in the chair. She started to wake him but then realized it probably wouldn't do any good. She had worked at this hospital for eight years and knew from experience even if she ordered Frank to leave he would just sneak back in. She went over and quietly touched Joe's wrist, looking at her watch. A minute later, she was gone.
When Joe woke up the next morning Frank was just exiting the bathroom with his disguise in place. "Be careful," Joe cautioned him. He couldn't help worrying about his brother being in a den of criminals without backup. Frank lifted a brow and gave Joe a grin that clearly said he should practice the sport himself.
Not long after Frank left, Joe was surprised by two visitors: Biff and Annie Hooper. "Happy belated birthday," Joe greeted Annie as she entered the room followed by her cousin.
"Thanks," she replied, smiling at him.
"Tony called last night and told me what happened," Biff said. "How are you doing?"
"Better," Joe answered, grinning up at him. "I knew I hated mushrooms for a reason."
"Tony said to tell you he gave your dad the list but he didn't think it would be of much help. One pepperoni pizza was sold to a Todd Dylan and picked up at four-fifteen."
"But since Principal Dylan was in the gym with us at that time then it couldn't really have been him," Joe finished for Biff. "I wonder if someone remembers who picked up the pizza," he added thoughtfully.
"Here, find out," Annie said, handing Joe the phone from the table beside his bed.
Joe took the phone and dialed the Prito's home phone number. When Isabel, Tony's younger sister by four years, answered, Joe asked to speak with Tony.
"He isn't here," Isabel told Joe recognizing his voice from the countless times he had called or come over. "He went with your dad somewhere this morning," she explained. "But he should be at the restaurant by ten."
"Thanks," Joe said preparing to hang up.
"Joe!" Isabel called loudly to stop him from disconnecting.
"Yes?" Joe asked, concern lining his voice at the frantic tone that registered in her voice.
"I'm glad you are all right," Isabel told him in a rush then hung up before Joe could respond.
"I guess Dad already thought of it," Joe said, hanging up the phone and giving it back to Annie who returned it to its proper place.
"When do you get out of here?" asked Biff.
"Sometime this afternoon," Joe answered. "Coach Anderson is going to kill me for not showing up for practice," he added glumly.
"Isn't your mom going to let him know what happened?" Biff asked in surprise.
"Sure," Joe replied. "But you know Anderson. He's worse than Coach Harmon," he added referring to the boys' football coach.
"Well, there's nothing he can do about it," Annie asserted.
"Except make me practice longer every day to make up for it," Joe amended her statement.
The two Hoopers stayed for a little while longer, leaving when a nurse arrived with Joe's breakfast. Joe frowned at the runny eggs and burnt toast but dug in anyway. He was famished and even this was better than nothing.
When Frank arrived at Braun Enterprises the dour secretary looked up at his entry then ignored him. Relieved, Frank headed down the hall to his designated working area. He passed by an open office door and saw Chet finishing up.
Seeing no one else in the vicinity, Frank slipped inside and shut the door. "How did it go?" asked Frank.
"This is hard work," Chet grumbled. "I'm exhausted."
"You've been at it since I left yesterday?" Frank demanded in surprise.
"No," Chet denied. "I walked into town and had dinner and caught a movie. Then I had a snack before coming back here," he informed Frank. "But there are twenty offices here and four bathrooms plus that sourpuss's working area and I have to get them all cleaned in eight hours."
"I know," Frank said. "And we really appreciate your help."
"Too bad Joe had to practice yesterday and today or he could have gotten a janitorial position here too," moaned Chet.
"Joe's not practicing today," Frank informed him. "He's in the hospital."
"Why? Chet demanded, immediately contrite. "What happened? Is he okay?"
"He's fine," Frank assured his robust friend and filled him in on the events of the previous evening.
"I pulled some papers out of the trash in a couple of the offices," Chet told Frank. "Every office has a shredder but in these two the shredders weren't working."
"Good job," Frank congratulated him. "Can you run them by the hospital and let Joe have them?" he requested. "Maybe we will get lucky." Chet promised to do as asked and Frank slipped out of the room and continued down the hallway to his area.
Chet finished up and left East Bridge, hitting Billy Bob's drive-thru on his way out of town. He drove straight to the hospital and made his way up to Joe's room. "Hey, how are you feeling?" he asked as he entered the room.
"Bored," Joe answered, looking at the bag Chet was holding curiously.
"Well, maybe this will ease the boredom," Chet said, grinning as he set the bag down on top of Joe's legs and opened it up. He pulled out the papers he had salvaged from the offices at Braun and told Joe where he had attained them.
"I'm going home now," Chet said, trying unsuccessfully to smother a yawn. "Sorry."
"Don't be," Joe said. "You have had a long night. Go home and get some sleep. I'll see you later."
Laura returned to the hospital at a quarter after two. "Hi, Sweetie," she greeted her son who sat anxiously on his bed wearing the clean jeans and shirt Frank had thought to bring with him the night before. "The doctor has already been in to see you?" she asked.
"No," Joe admitted. "But I've had my vitals checked and my blood pressure taken. All that's left if for the doctor's signature."
"But most patients wait until after I release them to get dressed," said Dr. Bates, the Hardy's family doctor, with an indulgent smile as he entered the room behind Laura.
Joe shrugged and gave him a sheepish grin. "I've got a lot to do," he admitted.
The doctor frowned but kept quite as he checked Joe out. Finished, he looked at Joe's chart. "You said you have a lot to do," he commented. "Like what?"
"School and practice," Joe answered. Not to mention a mystery to solve, he added silently.
"What kind of practice?" the doctor inquired.
"Gymnastics," Joe informed him.
"Will that be a problem?" Laura asked, her blue eyes filling with concern. She knew how much Joe wanted to compete but if it was going to put him at some kind of risk then she would forbid him to participate.
"I don't think so," Dr. Bates answered, smiling when he heard Joe's relieved sigh. "But I want you to limit your practice to an hour."
"An hour?" Joe exclaimed with blue eyes wide in protest.
"You can have two practice sessions a day but only for an hour at a time," Dr. Bates affirmed. "If you experience any light-headedness or nausea you are to go straight to the hospital."
"For how long?" inquired Laura.
"At least until Wednesday," was the reply. "Joe will have to come back for another blood work up to make sure all the poison has left his system. If it has then he can go back to his normal routine after that."
"Great," Joe grumbled. "But can I leave now?"
"You can," agreed Dr. Bates, signing Joe's release form and handing it to Laura. "But I need to see him Wednesday and then again two weeks after that. Just for a follow up," he added so as not to alarm her any more. "Take this to the nurse," he instructed. "And you wait for a wheelchair," he added quickly to Joe. "It's policy."
Frank crashed back and fell to the floor. Waking at the unexpected commotion Joe saw the intruder and reached out. He yanked the mask from the man's face. The room was too dark for a good look but Joe did glimpse a square jaw line and a clean-shaven face before the culprit turned and fled.
Joe got out of bed and went to his brother. Frank, unhurt, glared at Joe. "Back in bed, now," he ordered in a firm but quiet voice. Recognizing the tone as one their father used when he brooked no argument, Joe hurried back to bed and pulled the quilt up to his waist.
"Are you all right?" Frank demanded, once again on his feet. He came to stand beside Joe.
"Never touched me," Joe assured him. "Unlike some," he couldn't resist adding.
Frank gave him a sour look. "What are you doing here?" Joe asked curiously.
"I couldn't sleep," Frank replied with a shrug not wanting Joe to know how worried he had really been. Joe was always teasing him about worrying too much but Frank knew it was times like these when there was no such thing as too much.
"Going to call the nurse?" asked Joe although he knew Frank wouldn't because he would get kicked out.
Frank shook his head. "The guy is long gone," he said. "I'll just stay here and make sure he doesn't come back," he added sitting down in the recliner and leaning back.
"But if he's long gone, whey would he come back?" Joe asked cheekily. Frank shot him another dark look. Joe smothered a laugh and lay back. He told Frank what the guy had looked like beneath the surgeon's mask.
"I'll keep an eye out for him tomorrow," Frank promised, yawning. Joe waited until Frank had fallen asleep then slipped out of bed and covered Frank up with his sheet. He returned to bed and pulled his quilt up. Turning on his side, he fell asleep.
A nurse came into the room a little later to check on Joe and frowned when she saw Frank sleeping in the chair. She started to wake him but then realized it probably wouldn't do any good. She had worked at this hospital for eight years and knew from experience even if she ordered Frank to leave he would just sneak back in. She went over and quietly touched Joe's wrist, looking at her watch. A minute later, she was gone.
When Joe woke up the next morning Frank was just exiting the bathroom with his disguise in place. "Be careful," Joe cautioned him. He couldn't help worrying about his brother being in a den of criminals without backup. Frank lifted a brow and gave Joe a grin that clearly said he should practice the sport himself.
Not long after Frank left, Joe was surprised by two visitors: Biff and Annie Hooper. "Happy belated birthday," Joe greeted Annie as she entered the room followed by her cousin.
"Thanks," she replied, smiling at him.
"Tony called last night and told me what happened," Biff said. "How are you doing?"
"Better," Joe answered, grinning up at him. "I knew I hated mushrooms for a reason."
"Tony said to tell you he gave your dad the list but he didn't think it would be of much help. One pepperoni pizza was sold to a Todd Dylan and picked up at four-fifteen."
"But since Principal Dylan was in the gym with us at that time then it couldn't really have been him," Joe finished for Biff. "I wonder if someone remembers who picked up the pizza," he added thoughtfully.
"Here, find out," Annie said, handing Joe the phone from the table beside his bed.
Joe took the phone and dialed the Prito's home phone number. When Isabel, Tony's younger sister by four years, answered, Joe asked to speak with Tony.
"He isn't here," Isabel told Joe recognizing his voice from the countless times he had called or come over. "He went with your dad somewhere this morning," she explained. "But he should be at the restaurant by ten."
"Thanks," Joe said preparing to hang up.
"Joe!" Isabel called loudly to stop him from disconnecting.
"Yes?" Joe asked, concern lining his voice at the frantic tone that registered in her voice.
"I'm glad you are all right," Isabel told him in a rush then hung up before Joe could respond.
"I guess Dad already thought of it," Joe said, hanging up the phone and giving it back to Annie who returned it to its proper place.
"When do you get out of here?" asked Biff.
"Sometime this afternoon," Joe answered. "Coach Anderson is going to kill me for not showing up for practice," he added glumly.
"Isn't your mom going to let him know what happened?" Biff asked in surprise.
"Sure," Joe replied. "But you know Anderson. He's worse than Coach Harmon," he added referring to the boys' football coach.
"Well, there's nothing he can do about it," Annie asserted.
"Except make me practice longer every day to make up for it," Joe amended her statement.
The two Hoopers stayed for a little while longer, leaving when a nurse arrived with Joe's breakfast. Joe frowned at the runny eggs and burnt toast but dug in anyway. He was famished and even this was better than nothing.
When Frank arrived at Braun Enterprises the dour secretary looked up at his entry then ignored him. Relieved, Frank headed down the hall to his designated working area. He passed by an open office door and saw Chet finishing up.
Seeing no one else in the vicinity, Frank slipped inside and shut the door. "How did it go?" asked Frank.
"This is hard work," Chet grumbled. "I'm exhausted."
"You've been at it since I left yesterday?" Frank demanded in surprise.
"No," Chet denied. "I walked into town and had dinner and caught a movie. Then I had a snack before coming back here," he informed Frank. "But there are twenty offices here and four bathrooms plus that sourpuss's working area and I have to get them all cleaned in eight hours."
"I know," Frank said. "And we really appreciate your help."
"Too bad Joe had to practice yesterday and today or he could have gotten a janitorial position here too," moaned Chet.
"Joe's not practicing today," Frank informed him. "He's in the hospital."
"Why? Chet demanded, immediately contrite. "What happened? Is he okay?"
"He's fine," Frank assured his robust friend and filled him in on the events of the previous evening.
"I pulled some papers out of the trash in a couple of the offices," Chet told Frank. "Every office has a shredder but in these two the shredders weren't working."
"Good job," Frank congratulated him. "Can you run them by the hospital and let Joe have them?" he requested. "Maybe we will get lucky." Chet promised to do as asked and Frank slipped out of the room and continued down the hallway to his area.
Chet finished up and left East Bridge, hitting Billy Bob's drive-thru on his way out of town. He drove straight to the hospital and made his way up to Joe's room. "Hey, how are you feeling?" he asked as he entered the room.
"Bored," Joe answered, looking at the bag Chet was holding curiously.
"Well, maybe this will ease the boredom," Chet said, grinning as he set the bag down on top of Joe's legs and opened it up. He pulled out the papers he had salvaged from the offices at Braun and told Joe where he had attained them.
"I'm going home now," Chet said, trying unsuccessfully to smother a yawn. "Sorry."
"Don't be," Joe said. "You have had a long night. Go home and get some sleep. I'll see you later."
Laura returned to the hospital at a quarter after two. "Hi, Sweetie," she greeted her son who sat anxiously on his bed wearing the clean jeans and shirt Frank had thought to bring with him the night before. "The doctor has already been in to see you?" she asked.
"No," Joe admitted. "But I've had my vitals checked and my blood pressure taken. All that's left if for the doctor's signature."
"But most patients wait until after I release them to get dressed," said Dr. Bates, the Hardy's family doctor, with an indulgent smile as he entered the room behind Laura.
Joe shrugged and gave him a sheepish grin. "I've got a lot to do," he admitted.
The doctor frowned but kept quite as he checked Joe out. Finished, he looked at Joe's chart. "You said you have a lot to do," he commented. "Like what?"
"School and practice," Joe answered. Not to mention a mystery to solve, he added silently.
"What kind of practice?" the doctor inquired.
"Gymnastics," Joe informed him.
"Will that be a problem?" Laura asked, her blue eyes filling with concern. She knew how much Joe wanted to compete but if it was going to put him at some kind of risk then she would forbid him to participate.
"I don't think so," Dr. Bates answered, smiling when he heard Joe's relieved sigh. "But I want you to limit your practice to an hour."
"An hour?" Joe exclaimed with blue eyes wide in protest.
"You can have two practice sessions a day but only for an hour at a time," Dr. Bates affirmed. "If you experience any light-headedness or nausea you are to go straight to the hospital."
"For how long?" inquired Laura.
"At least until Wednesday," was the reply. "Joe will have to come back for another blood work up to make sure all the poison has left his system. If it has then he can go back to his normal routine after that."
"Great," Joe grumbled. "But can I leave now?"
"You can," agreed Dr. Bates, signing Joe's release form and handing it to Laura. "But I need to see him Wednesday and then again two weeks after that. Just for a follow up," he added so as not to alarm her any more. "Take this to the nurse," he instructed. "And you wait for a wheelchair," he added quickly to Joe. "It's policy."
