Fenton's face lost all its color. "S-stolen?" he stammered, his tongue thick with fear.
Wood glanced up at his personal assistant, his eyes narrowing as he took in the pallor of 'Jeff King's' face. "Is something the matter?" he inquired coolly, waiting for Fenton's answer.
"N-no, sir." Fenton managed to reply. "It just seems like a lot of things to happen all at once." he ad-libbed.
"Indeed." Wood said ironically, in full agreement. "I want you to find every chop shop in and around Bayport." he ordered. "I will personally deal with them. Get the key to the rental car from Billy."
"Yes, sir." Fenton replied, turning and leaving the office. He raced down the stairs and into the kitchen, where he encountered Billy. "Mr. Sweeney?" he inquired, lifting an eyebrow.
"No longer a nuisance." Billy replied with a significant look.
"Mr. Wood has requested I return the rental." Fenton said then, and waited while Billy pulled a set of car keys from his pants pocket.
"The rental company's name is on the ring." Billy stated. "Bayport's the nearest location. You'll have to take the bus, or a taxi, back."
"No problem." Fenton said cheerfully, swinging the keys around his finger twice before capturing them in his palm. "I have to go there anyway."
Billy nodded. "The police, I'm afraid, won't be much help." he told Fenton, figuring out his reason for going to Bayport. "But Andrew Vance might be of some assistance. For a price." Billy added, and gave Fenton the phone number.
"I'll call as soon as I have something." Fenton said as he left.
Outside the Burnsville city limits, Fenton stopped at a pay phone, only to discover it was out of order. Deciding not to waste any more time, he got back into the rental and continued his trip, not stopping until he reached an empty parking space only yards from the entrance to the police station.
"I need to see Ezra Collig." Fenton announced, when he reached the front desk.
"The chief's not seeing anyone now." the sergeant on duty informed him. Word had come down that the chief had finally fallen asleep, and wasn't to be disturbed for any reason.
"It concerns the man responsible for killing his wife." Fenton insisted, knowing this information would get him through the barrier.
"Go on up." the sergeant instructed, then used his intercom to announce the impending arrival of someone with info on Ginger's murder, to Ezra's new second-in-command.
Upstairs, Thompson met Fenton, his expresssion of expectant excitement vanishing when he realized who the visitor was. "What's up?" he asked.
"Wood's car really was stolen." Fenton informed him, his voice harsh with suppressed emotion. "He doesn't have the boys. Whoever stole the car must have them!"
Frank struggled with the ropes binding him until his wrists and ankles were raw and bleeding. He hadn't heard any sound from Joe for a long time, and he thought he must have either passed out or fallen asleep. It seemed like they had been moving for hours, and Frank wondered if the car would ever run out of gas. He could hear more noise now, than when they had first started. Horns were blaring, and the sound of multiple engines could be heard; even an occasional backfire.
The car they were in slowed down to a crawl. After several minutes at this speed, the car made a sharp right turn, then another, and then came to a stop. Frank heard the driver's door open and slam shut a few seconds later.
Sound echoed in the trunk, as a crowbar was used to pry the trunk lid open. Frank blinked as light assaulted his eyes.
"What the hell?" shouted one of the three men who were looking down at the two little boys. "Get them out of there!" he ordered the other two men, his violet eyes shooting angry fire.
A muscled man with a snake tattooed on his bicep leaned in to lift Joe out. Frank began fidgeting wildly, and the man who had been about to lift him out, stopped and reached for his gag. "No screaming, kid." The man warned, the words coming out with a lisp as he removed the gag from Frank's mouth.
"Don't hurt him!" Frank begged, gazing at the tough-looking man with slicked-back hair who was scooping Joe up.
"I'm not gonna hurt him, kid." the man promised, straightening up with the unconscious boy in his arms. He turned and shot a questioning look at the man in charge. "Where shall I take him, Boss?"
"Take 'em to the office." the boss instructed.
Frank was then lifted out of the trunk, and the two boys were carried into the office by the men. Joe was placed on top of a desk, while Frank was set in a chair.
The 'boss' entered the room, tension giving a kick to his high blood pressure so that his ears were redder than his hair. "What's wrong with him?" he asked Frank, indicating Joe.
"He must've got banged around too much." Frank guessed. "His dad hit him, before he stuffed us in the trunk." he added. Just then, his stomach growled loudly.
The boss smiled faintly at that. "Tell Bob to run out and grab something to eat for these two." he ordered the tattooed man.
"We want to go home." Frank stated firmly, after the man had left.
The boss exchanged a look with the other man. "What were you two doing in that trunk?" he asked.
"His dad kidnapped us." Frank replied truthfully.
"Why would his dad have to kidnap him?" the boss asked curiously, his brow wrinkling.
"Cause we're 'dopting him!" Frank answered with pride.
"Why?"
"Cause his dad beat him up." Frank replied with a child's simplicity. "Can you untie us, please?" he begged.
The boss nodded to the chubby man who had carried Frank in, and he set about untying Frank, while the boss untied Joe.
Joe moaned, and moved his head sideways. Once he was free, Frank stood up, intending to go to Joe's side, but his legs refused to support him, and he fell to the floor.
"Easy, Tiger." Chubby said, helping Frank back into the chair. "He's going to be all right; don't worry." He looked at his boss. "What are we going to do?"
"I don't know." the boss admitted, shaking his head. "Stay with him." He turned and walked out the door.
"Boss, Drecker's here." One of the boss's henchmen approached with the news. "He's in a snit."
"He's not the only one." the boss muttered, striding over to where Jonathan Drecker waited, staring at a blue Lincoln Continental with a look of pure horror on his face.
"Roberts, you moron!" Drecker shouted, as the boss approached. "This car?"
"What?" Harry Roberts demanded. "You asked for a blue Lincoln Continental - we got you a blue Lincoln Continental!"
"I wanted it so it could be rigged to explode in place of Wood's Continental!" Drecker fumed. "Harry, you really screwed up this time!"
"Why? This car-" Harry began, but Drecker cut him off.
"Because this IS Wood's car!" he screamed.
"This?" Harry's eyes went wide with shock for the second time in thirty minutes. "You said he lived in Burnsville. Jimmy grabbed this one in Bayport!"
"He was in Bayport for the night." Drecker ground out. "And while I was at his place, someone broke in, drugged me, and snatched the diamond."
"Just you?" Harry asked.
"I had already knocked out Sweeney, and Wood's new P.A." Drecker told him.
"This puts another twist on the thing." Harry commented. "But there's more, Dreck." He crooked his finger at Drecker, and led the way into the office.
"What the hell?" Drecker shouted. Joe, who had regained consciousness and was sitting up, nearly backed off the desk when he saw Drecker. "You kidnapped Wood's kid?"
"Both boys were in the trunk." Harry told him.
"In the...what?" Drecker's voice went subdued. He wanted to be surprised at Harry's words, but he wasn't. He had known Wood too long. He looked at Frank. "What's your name?"
Frank, remembering Joe's reaction to this man, remained silent.
"Look kid," Drecker attempted to reason with the boy. "We can't take you home if you won't tell us who you are."
"Joe, too?" Frank demanded, looking into Drecker's eyes.
"Joe's going home too." Drecker assured him, although he had no idea who this 'Joe' was. "Now, what's your name, and who are your parents?"
"Frank Hardy." Frank answered. "My daddy is Fenton Hardy."
Harry and Drecker exited the office, leaving the two boys under the watchful eye of Chubby.
"Who's this 'Joe' person he's talking about?" Drecker demanded.
"Must be the other kid." Harry said, with a shrug of his shoulders. "Frank did say they were adopting him."
"That explains it!" Drecker said mysteriously.
"Explains what?"
"Why Wood grabbed the other boy." Drecker clarified for him "He's very possessive. If someone is trying to take his kid away, even if he can't stand the sight of him, Wood will not only do whatever it takes to get his son back, he'll do anything in his power to hurt whoever tried to take him away."
"If he's so possessive, why are you trying to take over the action here in New York?" Harry inquired bluntly. "Aren't you afraid it'll come back on you?"
"I was going to eliminate him." Drecker said calmly. "That's what the Lincoln Continental was for. He goes to Bertha's Bistro once a week. I was going to load the car with explosives, and trade cars while he was at dinner, putting the detonator on the motor after the exchange. But now-" the forced calmness in his voice evaporated. "-there's no way to pull it off, because YOU STOLE HIS CAR!"
"This nightmare just keeps getting worse." Ezra said an hour later as he and Fenton waited for FBI Agent Dalrymple to arrive. Fenton had phoned the FBI after waking Ezra and bringing him up to date. Ezra had sent two of his men to return the rental car, so that Fenton could have the time to make his phone call.
Agent Rathbone from Internal Affairs had been called, but he was investigating a lead on Burnsville's Chief Greer, and was unable to come to the meeting in Bayport.
Fenton began pacing, while Ezra remained seated behind his desk. Ezra's eyes were bloodshot, and the shadows beneath them made him look ill. Fenton felt a surge of guilt as he looked at his friend, sitting there and staring at the wall, his back stiff.
There came a sharp rap on the door, and it opened immediately after, the newcomer not waiting for permission to enter. Mitch Dalrymple came in, his muscular frame not disguised in the least by the blazer he wore over his dress shirt. The man's hair was thick, but messy, looking as if it were constantly rumpled by a nervous hand. His gray eyes were hard as he came to a stop in front of Ezra's desk.
Fenton brought his pacing to a standstill beside Ezra's desk, instinctively knowing something was very wrong.
"We put a tap on Wood's phone after your call last night." Dalrymple snapped. "Less than twenty minutes ago, he received a phone call demanding one million dollars for the return of Jeffrey Wood."
Wood glanced up at his personal assistant, his eyes narrowing as he took in the pallor of 'Jeff King's' face. "Is something the matter?" he inquired coolly, waiting for Fenton's answer.
"N-no, sir." Fenton managed to reply. "It just seems like a lot of things to happen all at once." he ad-libbed.
"Indeed." Wood said ironically, in full agreement. "I want you to find every chop shop in and around Bayport." he ordered. "I will personally deal with them. Get the key to the rental car from Billy."
"Yes, sir." Fenton replied, turning and leaving the office. He raced down the stairs and into the kitchen, where he encountered Billy. "Mr. Sweeney?" he inquired, lifting an eyebrow.
"No longer a nuisance." Billy replied with a significant look.
"Mr. Wood has requested I return the rental." Fenton said then, and waited while Billy pulled a set of car keys from his pants pocket.
"The rental company's name is on the ring." Billy stated. "Bayport's the nearest location. You'll have to take the bus, or a taxi, back."
"No problem." Fenton said cheerfully, swinging the keys around his finger twice before capturing them in his palm. "I have to go there anyway."
Billy nodded. "The police, I'm afraid, won't be much help." he told Fenton, figuring out his reason for going to Bayport. "But Andrew Vance might be of some assistance. For a price." Billy added, and gave Fenton the phone number.
"I'll call as soon as I have something." Fenton said as he left.
Outside the Burnsville city limits, Fenton stopped at a pay phone, only to discover it was out of order. Deciding not to waste any more time, he got back into the rental and continued his trip, not stopping until he reached an empty parking space only yards from the entrance to the police station.
"I need to see Ezra Collig." Fenton announced, when he reached the front desk.
"The chief's not seeing anyone now." the sergeant on duty informed him. Word had come down that the chief had finally fallen asleep, and wasn't to be disturbed for any reason.
"It concerns the man responsible for killing his wife." Fenton insisted, knowing this information would get him through the barrier.
"Go on up." the sergeant instructed, then used his intercom to announce the impending arrival of someone with info on Ginger's murder, to Ezra's new second-in-command.
Upstairs, Thompson met Fenton, his expresssion of expectant excitement vanishing when he realized who the visitor was. "What's up?" he asked.
"Wood's car really was stolen." Fenton informed him, his voice harsh with suppressed emotion. "He doesn't have the boys. Whoever stole the car must have them!"
Frank struggled with the ropes binding him until his wrists and ankles were raw and bleeding. He hadn't heard any sound from Joe for a long time, and he thought he must have either passed out or fallen asleep. It seemed like they had been moving for hours, and Frank wondered if the car would ever run out of gas. He could hear more noise now, than when they had first started. Horns were blaring, and the sound of multiple engines could be heard; even an occasional backfire.
The car they were in slowed down to a crawl. After several minutes at this speed, the car made a sharp right turn, then another, and then came to a stop. Frank heard the driver's door open and slam shut a few seconds later.
Sound echoed in the trunk, as a crowbar was used to pry the trunk lid open. Frank blinked as light assaulted his eyes.
"What the hell?" shouted one of the three men who were looking down at the two little boys. "Get them out of there!" he ordered the other two men, his violet eyes shooting angry fire.
A muscled man with a snake tattooed on his bicep leaned in to lift Joe out. Frank began fidgeting wildly, and the man who had been about to lift him out, stopped and reached for his gag. "No screaming, kid." The man warned, the words coming out with a lisp as he removed the gag from Frank's mouth.
"Don't hurt him!" Frank begged, gazing at the tough-looking man with slicked-back hair who was scooping Joe up.
"I'm not gonna hurt him, kid." the man promised, straightening up with the unconscious boy in his arms. He turned and shot a questioning look at the man in charge. "Where shall I take him, Boss?"
"Take 'em to the office." the boss instructed.
Frank was then lifted out of the trunk, and the two boys were carried into the office by the men. Joe was placed on top of a desk, while Frank was set in a chair.
The 'boss' entered the room, tension giving a kick to his high blood pressure so that his ears were redder than his hair. "What's wrong with him?" he asked Frank, indicating Joe.
"He must've got banged around too much." Frank guessed. "His dad hit him, before he stuffed us in the trunk." he added. Just then, his stomach growled loudly.
The boss smiled faintly at that. "Tell Bob to run out and grab something to eat for these two." he ordered the tattooed man.
"We want to go home." Frank stated firmly, after the man had left.
The boss exchanged a look with the other man. "What were you two doing in that trunk?" he asked.
"His dad kidnapped us." Frank replied truthfully.
"Why would his dad have to kidnap him?" the boss asked curiously, his brow wrinkling.
"Cause we're 'dopting him!" Frank answered with pride.
"Why?"
"Cause his dad beat him up." Frank replied with a child's simplicity. "Can you untie us, please?" he begged.
The boss nodded to the chubby man who had carried Frank in, and he set about untying Frank, while the boss untied Joe.
Joe moaned, and moved his head sideways. Once he was free, Frank stood up, intending to go to Joe's side, but his legs refused to support him, and he fell to the floor.
"Easy, Tiger." Chubby said, helping Frank back into the chair. "He's going to be all right; don't worry." He looked at his boss. "What are we going to do?"
"I don't know." the boss admitted, shaking his head. "Stay with him." He turned and walked out the door.
"Boss, Drecker's here." One of the boss's henchmen approached with the news. "He's in a snit."
"He's not the only one." the boss muttered, striding over to where Jonathan Drecker waited, staring at a blue Lincoln Continental with a look of pure horror on his face.
"Roberts, you moron!" Drecker shouted, as the boss approached. "This car?"
"What?" Harry Roberts demanded. "You asked for a blue Lincoln Continental - we got you a blue Lincoln Continental!"
"I wanted it so it could be rigged to explode in place of Wood's Continental!" Drecker fumed. "Harry, you really screwed up this time!"
"Why? This car-" Harry began, but Drecker cut him off.
"Because this IS Wood's car!" he screamed.
"This?" Harry's eyes went wide with shock for the second time in thirty minutes. "You said he lived in Burnsville. Jimmy grabbed this one in Bayport!"
"He was in Bayport for the night." Drecker ground out. "And while I was at his place, someone broke in, drugged me, and snatched the diamond."
"Just you?" Harry asked.
"I had already knocked out Sweeney, and Wood's new P.A." Drecker told him.
"This puts another twist on the thing." Harry commented. "But there's more, Dreck." He crooked his finger at Drecker, and led the way into the office.
"What the hell?" Drecker shouted. Joe, who had regained consciousness and was sitting up, nearly backed off the desk when he saw Drecker. "You kidnapped Wood's kid?"
"Both boys were in the trunk." Harry told him.
"In the...what?" Drecker's voice went subdued. He wanted to be surprised at Harry's words, but he wasn't. He had known Wood too long. He looked at Frank. "What's your name?"
Frank, remembering Joe's reaction to this man, remained silent.
"Look kid," Drecker attempted to reason with the boy. "We can't take you home if you won't tell us who you are."
"Joe, too?" Frank demanded, looking into Drecker's eyes.
"Joe's going home too." Drecker assured him, although he had no idea who this 'Joe' was. "Now, what's your name, and who are your parents?"
"Frank Hardy." Frank answered. "My daddy is Fenton Hardy."
Harry and Drecker exited the office, leaving the two boys under the watchful eye of Chubby.
"Who's this 'Joe' person he's talking about?" Drecker demanded.
"Must be the other kid." Harry said, with a shrug of his shoulders. "Frank did say they were adopting him."
"That explains it!" Drecker said mysteriously.
"Explains what?"
"Why Wood grabbed the other boy." Drecker clarified for him "He's very possessive. If someone is trying to take his kid away, even if he can't stand the sight of him, Wood will not only do whatever it takes to get his son back, he'll do anything in his power to hurt whoever tried to take him away."
"If he's so possessive, why are you trying to take over the action here in New York?" Harry inquired bluntly. "Aren't you afraid it'll come back on you?"
"I was going to eliminate him." Drecker said calmly. "That's what the Lincoln Continental was for. He goes to Bertha's Bistro once a week. I was going to load the car with explosives, and trade cars while he was at dinner, putting the detonator on the motor after the exchange. But now-" the forced calmness in his voice evaporated. "-there's no way to pull it off, because YOU STOLE HIS CAR!"
"This nightmare just keeps getting worse." Ezra said an hour later as he and Fenton waited for FBI Agent Dalrymple to arrive. Fenton had phoned the FBI after waking Ezra and bringing him up to date. Ezra had sent two of his men to return the rental car, so that Fenton could have the time to make his phone call.
Agent Rathbone from Internal Affairs had been called, but he was investigating a lead on Burnsville's Chief Greer, and was unable to come to the meeting in Bayport.
Fenton began pacing, while Ezra remained seated behind his desk. Ezra's eyes were bloodshot, and the shadows beneath them made him look ill. Fenton felt a surge of guilt as he looked at his friend, sitting there and staring at the wall, his back stiff.
There came a sharp rap on the door, and it opened immediately after, the newcomer not waiting for permission to enter. Mitch Dalrymple came in, his muscular frame not disguised in the least by the blazer he wore over his dress shirt. The man's hair was thick, but messy, looking as if it were constantly rumpled by a nervous hand. His gray eyes were hard as he came to a stop in front of Ezra's desk.
Fenton brought his pacing to a standstill beside Ezra's desk, instinctively knowing something was very wrong.
"We put a tap on Wood's phone after your call last night." Dalrymple snapped. "Less than twenty minutes ago, he received a phone call demanding one million dollars for the return of Jeffrey Wood."
