"But how would they know about the tournament?" Phil asked.

Joe thought for a minute, working his bottom lip between his teeth as he did so. "Whoever it is would have to at least have help on the inside," he admitted. "So we need to check out the relatives of people involved who may have something against Braun Enterprises."

"Only one problem with your theory," Phil pointed out. "Braun Enterprises isn't getting any negative publicity. None of the accidents have been linked to the tournament."

"That could be because the tournament was just decided on," Joe said. "Advertising for it should start no later than tomorrow."

When they reached the Hardy driveway Biff tooted his horn and kept driving. Tony's car followed Biff's van down the street and out of sight.

Fenton Hardy met the boys in the foyer. "Phil, your mother called," Fenton said. "Your uncle was in a car accident and is at the Southport Hospital. I told her I would send you home to go with her and your dad as soon as you got in."

"Thank you, Mr. Hardy," Phil said, looking worried.

""Don't worry," Fenton said to Phil. "Your mom said he wasn't in serious condition. A broken leg and arm and some bruises."

"That's good," Phil said, with a sideways glance at Joe. "Maybe I should call. They won't mind if I stay here while they go."

"No need," Fenton said, smiling at the boy whose loyalty was obviously torn at this point. "I am going to be here the rest of the evening."

Joe thanked Phil and passed on his wishes for his uncle a speedy recovery. After Phil left, Joe sat down on the sofa next to his father and told him about his theory. "You could be right," agreed Fenton. "I had Crumpler look over the contract and he said that the schools have an advantage over Braun Enterprises if they don't cancel the tournament."

"What kind of an advantage?"

"If Braun backs out then they have to donate three million dollars worth of computer supplies to the schools," Fenton informed Joe.

"But they couldn't afford to do that," objected Joe in surprise. "Could they?"

"Not if they get a lot of negative feedback," Fenton said. "The accidents will make the headlines as soon as the tournament begins being advertised. And if one of the contestants actually gets killed..."

"Then the parents would demand the schools boycott the company," Joe guessed.

"And any businesses that receive their supplies from Braun as well," Fenton added. "It could ruin the company entirely."

"What about the wording in the contract?" Joe asked, remembering what Frank had said about their father wanting to get it checked out.

"That was where it was mentioned that Braun would have to give the schools the merchandise," Fenton said.

"Oh. Has Frank called yet?" Joe asked.

"No," replied Fenton. "But don't worry. He did say he might not be home until eleven."

"Yeah," Joe acknowledged with a sigh. "I don't like him doing this alone," he said. "Anything could happen to him."

"Relax," Fenton instructed his youngest son. "Chet goes in at eleven. If Frank hasn't shown up we will call Chet's cell and have him see what the hold up is with your brother."

Joe still looked depressed so Fenton tried again. "Why don't you run upstairs and shower and change?" he suggested. "Then take a nap before dinner. That will give me time to start checking out your theory."

"I'm not tired," objected Joe.

"You just got out of the hospital yesterday," Fenton told him with a stern look. "I don't want you overdoing anything."

"Yes, Sir," Joe grumbled rising from the couch and leaving.

Fenton watched Joe head upstairs then went into the kitchen to turn the alarm on. He kissed Laura's cheek and told her he sent Joe to his room to rest until dinner was ready. "I'll be in my office if you need me," he added. He left Laura and went upstairs where he heard the shower in the boys' bathroom running as he passed by.

Flynn's stomach rumbled and Matthews glanced at his watch. "I didn't realize how late it was getting," he said, looking over at Frank. "You can call it a day," he said. "But meet me in my office when you get here tomorrow afternoon," he ordered.

"Yes, Sir," agreed Frank. Frank left the room and returned to Matthews's office for his briefcase before heading out. He looked at his watch as he neared Curtis' office: eight-thirty.

"Hello," Frank said, coming to a stop in front of Curtis' open door.

"Who are you?" Curtis demanded, looking at Frank curiously from beneath his cowboy hat.

"Frank McGuire," Frank introduced himself. "I just started working here yesterday." Curtis nodded but said nothing. "I'm basically an intern here," Frank said, trying to get the man to talk to him. "And I want to learn everything I can. What do you do here?"

Curtis looked at Frank with a frown. "I'm in charge of keeping this place clean," he said. "Now, if you don't mind, I have work to do."

Dismissed, Frank continued outside. He climbed in the car and drove to the gas station down the street. There, he removed his cell phone and called home.

"Dad, I need you to run some background checks for me," Frank said and listed the men he had talked to earlier.

"Way ahead of you," Fenton said. He told Frank about Joe's theory.

"Not bad," Frank said, admiration for his younger brother evident in his voice. "Found anything yet?"

"No," Fenton admitted. "But I have looked up the principals and the superintendent so far. I am going to start on the employees, beginning with the names you just gave me, next."

"Great. I'll be home in about an hour," Frank said. "Save me some dinner?"

"We'll wait on you," promised Frank. "I'll run down and let your mother know. Be careful," he added before disconnecting.

Fenton left his office and headed down the hallway toward the stairs, surprised to hear the shower in the boys' bathroom still going. Worried, Fenton opened the door to Joe's room and went inside.

His worry turned to fear when he tried to open the bathroom door but found it locked. "Joe!" he shouted, banging his fist on the door. No answer; just the continual hiss of the shower mingled with what sounded like water hitting a tiled floor.

Fenton stepped back and, eyeing the door like an enemy, gave it a hard kick. The door banged open, splintering the frame. "NO!" Fenton screamed in horror seeing Frank's hairdryer, plugged into the wall and turned on, tumble off the toilet toward the tub.