"Anything?" Frank asked as his dad entered the living room later that evening.
"No," answered Fenton. "You've worked out a code with your friends for emergencies, correct?" he asked. At Frank's nod he continued. "Call Callie and have her gather everyone at Mr. Pizza," Fenton instructed. "I'm sure the CIA is monitoring our phone as well as watching the house and if we try to take an active role in looking for Joe they will try to prevent it."
"I understand," Frank said. "It's time to let the CIA take control and try to relax with my best girl," he said with a grim set to his lips.
"Be careful," Laura cautioned.
"Don't worry, Mom," Frank said, kissing her cheek. "The worst that could happen is I get arrested for interfering with their investigation."
Frank called Callie who spread the word. At eight p.m. Frank left the house and drove to Callie's where he and she climbed into the back floorboard of Mr. Shaw's car in the garage. A few minutes later Mr. and Mrs. Shaw left the house with music floating from an upstairs room where the light had been left on and the window open.
The Shaws drove downtown, stopping the car only long enough for the teens to scamper out and into the darkness of an alley before continuing to a restaurant on the outskirts of town. Frank and Callie watched their taillights disappear around the corner ahead as another car approached then hurried to the corner and made the turn without even stopping for the stop sign.
"CIA?" asked Callie as she and Frank exited the alley.
"Yes," Frank answered. "Come on," he said, taking her hand and pulling her along. "Let's get to Mr. Pizza."
They arrived to find Biff, Phil and Tony Prito sitting around a table with four vacant chairs. "Perfect timing," came a silky voice from behind Frank.
Frank turned around and saw Joe's girlfriend, Vanessa Bender, accompanied by Chet Morton. "Any word yet?" Vanessa asked, her blue-gray eyes clouded with worry.
"Not yet," Frank answered, wrapping an arm around the lithe blonde's shoulders. "But we will find him," he added, squeezing her shoulders comfortingly as the four joined the other boys.
"You're not working?" Frank asked Tony in surprise.
"I'm on break," the olive-skinned youth replied, his dark eyes watching Frank in concern. "But tomorrow I'm taking off," he continued. "The guys told me what happened and I have a petty good idea how we can help."
"How?" asked Callie curiously. She had been racking her brains trying o figure out what the pow wow was for but hadn't been able to come up with any ideas.
"The shovels," Phil answered. Tony had already presented his theory before the others had joined them. "Those goons obviously needed them for something and since they didn't get them at the mall..."
"Then they had to buy them somewhere else or steal them," Tony ended.
"That's it exactly," Frank said, grinning as he sat down. "Dad's already checked all of the other places that sell shovels and no one matching Hamby's or Stevens's description has bought any. Matter of fact," he continued, "no one has bought any that wasn't a regular customer of the establishments they were purchased from."
"Stolen?" Chet asked. "Not from the stores," answered Frank. "Dad wants us to ask around, beginning the search around the mall, to see if anyone has had any shovels stolen. He believes that if one were actually stolen then there is a good chance Joe is being held close by."
"Makes sense," Biff said. "I guess. We can't start tonight, though. Most people who leave their tools easily accessible are farmers and they normally go to bed early."
Frank scowled. "I know," he said. "I just wish there were something else we could do. I don't like waiting."
"What about the car?" Chet asked.
"Stolen," Frank answered miserably.
"Sir, you need to see this," Agent Schroeder said, handing an envelope to Agent Blaine. "It was hand delivered to the Hardy's mailbox. I'm sorry but the deliverer got away. There were no prints and the paper is standard notebook."
Agent Blaine opened the envelope and removed a folded piece of paper and a photograph. The picture was of Joe Hardy, bound and gagged lying in a darkened area on what appeared to be a dirt floor.
Blaine unfolded the paper. His eyes narrowed as he read the contents. He refolded the paper and returned it and the photograph to the envelope before giving them back to Schroeder. "Get it to our handwriting analyst," he ordered. "And place Fenton, Laura and Frank Hardy in protective custody."
"No," answered Fenton. "You've worked out a code with your friends for emergencies, correct?" he asked. At Frank's nod he continued. "Call Callie and have her gather everyone at Mr. Pizza," Fenton instructed. "I'm sure the CIA is monitoring our phone as well as watching the house and if we try to take an active role in looking for Joe they will try to prevent it."
"I understand," Frank said. "It's time to let the CIA take control and try to relax with my best girl," he said with a grim set to his lips.
"Be careful," Laura cautioned.
"Don't worry, Mom," Frank said, kissing her cheek. "The worst that could happen is I get arrested for interfering with their investigation."
Frank called Callie who spread the word. At eight p.m. Frank left the house and drove to Callie's where he and she climbed into the back floorboard of Mr. Shaw's car in the garage. A few minutes later Mr. and Mrs. Shaw left the house with music floating from an upstairs room where the light had been left on and the window open.
The Shaws drove downtown, stopping the car only long enough for the teens to scamper out and into the darkness of an alley before continuing to a restaurant on the outskirts of town. Frank and Callie watched their taillights disappear around the corner ahead as another car approached then hurried to the corner and made the turn without even stopping for the stop sign.
"CIA?" asked Callie as she and Frank exited the alley.
"Yes," Frank answered. "Come on," he said, taking her hand and pulling her along. "Let's get to Mr. Pizza."
They arrived to find Biff, Phil and Tony Prito sitting around a table with four vacant chairs. "Perfect timing," came a silky voice from behind Frank.
Frank turned around and saw Joe's girlfriend, Vanessa Bender, accompanied by Chet Morton. "Any word yet?" Vanessa asked, her blue-gray eyes clouded with worry.
"Not yet," Frank answered, wrapping an arm around the lithe blonde's shoulders. "But we will find him," he added, squeezing her shoulders comfortingly as the four joined the other boys.
"You're not working?" Frank asked Tony in surprise.
"I'm on break," the olive-skinned youth replied, his dark eyes watching Frank in concern. "But tomorrow I'm taking off," he continued. "The guys told me what happened and I have a petty good idea how we can help."
"How?" asked Callie curiously. She had been racking her brains trying o figure out what the pow wow was for but hadn't been able to come up with any ideas.
"The shovels," Phil answered. Tony had already presented his theory before the others had joined them. "Those goons obviously needed them for something and since they didn't get them at the mall..."
"Then they had to buy them somewhere else or steal them," Tony ended.
"That's it exactly," Frank said, grinning as he sat down. "Dad's already checked all of the other places that sell shovels and no one matching Hamby's or Stevens's description has bought any. Matter of fact," he continued, "no one has bought any that wasn't a regular customer of the establishments they were purchased from."
"Stolen?" Chet asked. "Not from the stores," answered Frank. "Dad wants us to ask around, beginning the search around the mall, to see if anyone has had any shovels stolen. He believes that if one were actually stolen then there is a good chance Joe is being held close by."
"Makes sense," Biff said. "I guess. We can't start tonight, though. Most people who leave their tools easily accessible are farmers and they normally go to bed early."
Frank scowled. "I know," he said. "I just wish there were something else we could do. I don't like waiting."
"What about the car?" Chet asked.
"Stolen," Frank answered miserably.
"Sir, you need to see this," Agent Schroeder said, handing an envelope to Agent Blaine. "It was hand delivered to the Hardy's mailbox. I'm sorry but the deliverer got away. There were no prints and the paper is standard notebook."
Agent Blaine opened the envelope and removed a folded piece of paper and a photograph. The picture was of Joe Hardy, bound and gagged lying in a darkened area on what appeared to be a dirt floor.
Blaine unfolded the paper. His eyes narrowed as he read the contents. He refolded the paper and returned it and the photograph to the envelope before giving them back to Schroeder. "Get it to our handwriting analyst," he ordered. "And place Fenton, Laura and Frank Hardy in protective custody."