Joe ducked and the bat swung over his head and crashed into the doorframe causing the wood to splinter. Frank reached out and grabbed the bat but released it quickly and doubled over in pain as a large foot rammed into his mid-section.
The intruder prepared to swing at Joe once more but with a low growl, Joe grabbed hold of it and pulled. The miscreant relinquished his hold and Joe fell into Frank causing both boys to topple to the floor. The intruder, sensing he was going to lose the battle if he remained, yanked the front door open and took off at a run.
"You okay?" Joe asked, rolling off Frank and getting to his feet.
"I'm fine," answered Frank. "Don't...!" he shouted to stop Joe from taking off after the masked man but he was too late. As soon as Frank admitted to being all right Joe had taken off in pursuit.
Frank got slowly to his feet. He was breathing but he hurt and he knew there was no way he could catch up with the intruder or his brother. He made his way into the living room and froze. His mouth tightened in anger as he saw his father bound and gagged to a dining room chair that had been brought into the room. Frank hurried over and pulled the gag from his father's mouth.
"Joe?" Fenton rasped through dry lips.
"He went after him," answered Frank, kneeling down so he could reach the ropes.
"That boy," Fenton sighed, shaking his head. He frowned when he saw Frank hold his stomach briefly before tackling the knots that bound his feet. "You're hurt," he commented.
"Just a bit," Frank admitted as he finished his task.
Fenton stood and led Frank to the sofa. He lifted Frank's shirt and inspected the growing bruise. "Sit down," he ordered.
"I'm okay," Frank objected.
"We'll let a doctor decide that," Fenton stated.
"I don't need an ambulance," Frank objected again as his father picked up the phone and began dialing.
"I agree," Fenton concurred. "I'll drive you. But I am calling the police."
While Fenton was on the phone Joe returned home. "I lost him," he informed his dad and Frank. "You okay?" he asked, looking at Frank quizzically when he never arose from his seated position on the sofa.
"We'll know soon enough," Fenton answered for Frank hanging up the phone and coming over. "I'm going to run him to the emergency room. You wait here for the police. If they have finished before we return you can meet us there."
"Okay," agreed Joe, frowning. He really wanted to go with Frank but knew better than to disobey a direct order from his father. "What are you doing back so soon?"
"I lost the trail," Fenton answered ruefully. "Come on, help me get your brother to the car."
"I don't need help," Frank objected.
"Too bad," Joe said, grinning at him. "Relax and enjoy it," he said. "You do this to me often enough."
"Oh, Hardy-har-har," Frank responded.
"Oh good," Joe said as he held onto the passenger door of the car as Frank buckled his seat belt and Fenton got in behind the wheel. "This shouldn't take too long," he added, looking at the police cruiser that had just pulled in front of the house. "I should be at the hospital in no time."
Frank just shook his head and grinned. He knew well how emergency rooms worked. His condition wasn't serious so he would most likely still be waiting to be seen when Joe did manage to arrive. And, after hours of waiting and possibly an ultra sound he would be released.
"Hi, Joe," Sergeant Con Riley greeted Joe as he walked up to the youth. "Where are they going?" he asked, staring after the Hardy's car.
"Frank got hurt," Joe answered.
"Bad?" Con demanded, snapping his head around and searching Joe's face with his sharp brown eyes.
"I don't think so," Joe replied. "But he's going to be sore for a bit."
"Want to tell me what happened while we wait for Forensics?" Con inquired.
"You'll have to talk to dad about that," Joe said. "Frank and I arrived during the last act," he explained then went on to tell what had happened upon their arrival home.
"Can you give me a description?" asked Con.
"Black ski mask, old blue jeans with a little rip below the left knee and a long-sleeve plain black tee shirt," Joe replied. "About two inches taller than me," he added, his forehead wrinkling in thought. "That's pretty much it," he ended with a shake of his head.
"Maybe the boys in Forensics can come up with something more," Con said as another squad car came to a stop behind Con's.
Joe stayed outside while the police did their thing. "I'll let you know what we come up with," Con promised Joe as he left almost an hour later.
Joe went back inside and made sure the windows and the back door were locked then returned to the front door and prepared to open it. He paused with his hand on the knob as the phone rang.
Gritting his teeth at the added delay, he picked up the receiver. "Joe?" his dad's voice came through the line. "Frank's fine. We're on our way home now."
"That's a relief," Joe said, relaxing.
"Are the police still there?" asked Fenton.
"They just left," Joe answered. "I was just on my way out the door when you called."
"Stay there," Fenton instructed. "We'll swing by the police station and give our statements then be right home."
"Okay," agreed Joe. He hung up the phone and turned to go back into the living room but stopped when the phone rang again.
Joe snatched up the receiver. "Hello?" he queried.
"Say hello to someone," a voice ordered. Seconds later, Joe gripped the receiver tightly as a familiar voice came over the line.
"Joe," Vanessa said his name.
"Vanessa? Where are you? Are you all right?" Joe demanded, hearing the fear in her voice.
"She's fine," the voice informed Joe. "For now. But if you want to see her alive again you will hang up the phone and exit your front door. At the foot of your drive is a van. You will get into the back and close the door. If you delay any after hanging up the phone the van will leave without you and your girlfriend dies."
The intruder prepared to swing at Joe once more but with a low growl, Joe grabbed hold of it and pulled. The miscreant relinquished his hold and Joe fell into Frank causing both boys to topple to the floor. The intruder, sensing he was going to lose the battle if he remained, yanked the front door open and took off at a run.
"You okay?" Joe asked, rolling off Frank and getting to his feet.
"I'm fine," answered Frank. "Don't...!" he shouted to stop Joe from taking off after the masked man but he was too late. As soon as Frank admitted to being all right Joe had taken off in pursuit.
Frank got slowly to his feet. He was breathing but he hurt and he knew there was no way he could catch up with the intruder or his brother. He made his way into the living room and froze. His mouth tightened in anger as he saw his father bound and gagged to a dining room chair that had been brought into the room. Frank hurried over and pulled the gag from his father's mouth.
"Joe?" Fenton rasped through dry lips.
"He went after him," answered Frank, kneeling down so he could reach the ropes.
"That boy," Fenton sighed, shaking his head. He frowned when he saw Frank hold his stomach briefly before tackling the knots that bound his feet. "You're hurt," he commented.
"Just a bit," Frank admitted as he finished his task.
Fenton stood and led Frank to the sofa. He lifted Frank's shirt and inspected the growing bruise. "Sit down," he ordered.
"I'm okay," Frank objected.
"We'll let a doctor decide that," Fenton stated.
"I don't need an ambulance," Frank objected again as his father picked up the phone and began dialing.
"I agree," Fenton concurred. "I'll drive you. But I am calling the police."
While Fenton was on the phone Joe returned home. "I lost him," he informed his dad and Frank. "You okay?" he asked, looking at Frank quizzically when he never arose from his seated position on the sofa.
"We'll know soon enough," Fenton answered for Frank hanging up the phone and coming over. "I'm going to run him to the emergency room. You wait here for the police. If they have finished before we return you can meet us there."
"Okay," agreed Joe, frowning. He really wanted to go with Frank but knew better than to disobey a direct order from his father. "What are you doing back so soon?"
"I lost the trail," Fenton answered ruefully. "Come on, help me get your brother to the car."
"I don't need help," Frank objected.
"Too bad," Joe said, grinning at him. "Relax and enjoy it," he said. "You do this to me often enough."
"Oh, Hardy-har-har," Frank responded.
"Oh good," Joe said as he held onto the passenger door of the car as Frank buckled his seat belt and Fenton got in behind the wheel. "This shouldn't take too long," he added, looking at the police cruiser that had just pulled in front of the house. "I should be at the hospital in no time."
Frank just shook his head and grinned. He knew well how emergency rooms worked. His condition wasn't serious so he would most likely still be waiting to be seen when Joe did manage to arrive. And, after hours of waiting and possibly an ultra sound he would be released.
"Hi, Joe," Sergeant Con Riley greeted Joe as he walked up to the youth. "Where are they going?" he asked, staring after the Hardy's car.
"Frank got hurt," Joe answered.
"Bad?" Con demanded, snapping his head around and searching Joe's face with his sharp brown eyes.
"I don't think so," Joe replied. "But he's going to be sore for a bit."
"Want to tell me what happened while we wait for Forensics?" Con inquired.
"You'll have to talk to dad about that," Joe said. "Frank and I arrived during the last act," he explained then went on to tell what had happened upon their arrival home.
"Can you give me a description?" asked Con.
"Black ski mask, old blue jeans with a little rip below the left knee and a long-sleeve plain black tee shirt," Joe replied. "About two inches taller than me," he added, his forehead wrinkling in thought. "That's pretty much it," he ended with a shake of his head.
"Maybe the boys in Forensics can come up with something more," Con said as another squad car came to a stop behind Con's.
Joe stayed outside while the police did their thing. "I'll let you know what we come up with," Con promised Joe as he left almost an hour later.
Joe went back inside and made sure the windows and the back door were locked then returned to the front door and prepared to open it. He paused with his hand on the knob as the phone rang.
Gritting his teeth at the added delay, he picked up the receiver. "Joe?" his dad's voice came through the line. "Frank's fine. We're on our way home now."
"That's a relief," Joe said, relaxing.
"Are the police still there?" asked Fenton.
"They just left," Joe answered. "I was just on my way out the door when you called."
"Stay there," Fenton instructed. "We'll swing by the police station and give our statements then be right home."
"Okay," agreed Joe. He hung up the phone and turned to go back into the living room but stopped when the phone rang again.
Joe snatched up the receiver. "Hello?" he queried.
"Say hello to someone," a voice ordered. Seconds later, Joe gripped the receiver tightly as a familiar voice came over the line.
"Joe," Vanessa said his name.
"Vanessa? Where are you? Are you all right?" Joe demanded, hearing the fear in her voice.
"She's fine," the voice informed Joe. "For now. But if you want to see her alive again you will hang up the phone and exit your front door. At the foot of your drive is a van. You will get into the back and close the door. If you delay any after hanging up the phone the van will leave without you and your girlfriend dies."