When Frank arrived home, he parked his mother's car in the garage and entered the house through the kitchen door. Everything seemed very quiet. Mom must be in the den, using the computer, he thought, and proceeded to walk in that direction. As he passed by the living room, however, he glanced in, and saw Laura lying on the sofa, apparently sound asleep.
Slightly surprised – for it wasn't all that late – Frank took a couple steps into the room, moving past the breakfront which stood against one of the walls. Vaguely, he sensed that he was needing to step around it carefully; it seemed to be protruding into the room more than it customarily did. It didn't register with him that someone could be hiding behind it…until he felt a crashing blow to the back of his head, and fell to the floor, unconscious!
Some time later, Frank opened his eyes, and slowly became aware that he had a throbbing headache. He automatically tried to lift a hand to rub his head – and realized that he was unable to do so. He was bound securely to a chair…one of the dining room chairs, he noted dimly, and there was a gag tied across his mouth. Turning his head to look around, he saw he was in the living room, and to his horror, saw another chair, back-to-back with his own. Seated in it, bound and gagged just as he was, was his mother. From the little Frank could see, she was either asleep or unconscious, her head drooping forward.
Suddenly, Frank took in the fact that the air in the room was filling with smoke, and with shock, he saw that the living room drapes were on fire! He struggled frantically with his bonds, trying to loosen them, but to no avail; they were securely tied, and the knots were nowhere near his hands. He began to cough, for the fire was spreading, and the acrid smoke becoming thicker.
From where he was sitting, Frank could see the clock on the wall, and knew that he'd been unconscious for nearly an hour. Where was Joe? Why hadn't he returned home yet? Joe, come on – come on, little brother, I need you really, really bad right now! Frank concentrated hard; he didn't believe in psychic links, but at this point anything was worth a try, and there wasn't anything else he could do! He coughed again, harder, the sounds muffled by the gag, and heard his mother doing the same. She was evidently conscious, for he felt her struggling against the ropes, but like him, Laura could do nothing to free herself.
As if in answer to his urgent thoughts, Frank heard a noise at the front door, then a muffled shout, and seconds later, Joe and Phil burst into the room. Phil darted over to them, and started untying Laura, while Joe dashed for the kitchen to get the small fire extinguisher kept there.
"Hang on, Frank; I'll get you in a minute…" Phil panted, jerking at the cords holding Mrs. Hardy to her chair. Joe returned, and started spraying the fire with the extinguisher, but the flames were already too far advanced to be contained. The extinguisher was soon emptied, and still the fire grew, licking at the walls next to the window. Joe flung the canister down and ran to free Frank, as Phil helped Laura to her feet and assisted her to the front door.
"Here – almost got it…" Joe had grabbed not only the fire extinguisher from the kitchen, but a sharp knife as well, and he quickly slashed the cords holding Frank, then helped his brother stand.
Frank staggered and nearly fell, dizzy from the smoke and the earlier blow to the head. Joe pulled Frank's arm across his shoulder, then half-walked, half-carried him to the door. Fresh air hit their faces, and both boys gasped in relief. As they stumbled down the porch steps, the scream of a siren sounded, and a fire engine roared to a stop in front of their house.
Stan Axemeyer came running out of his house and seeing Laura sitting on the ground with one of the boys' friends, rushed over to see if she was all right, as firefighters leaped from the engine, and in what seemed like merely seconds, had their hoses connected to a hydrant, and were inside the house, spraying water on the fire. A police cruiser and a paramedics' truck swept up behind the fire engine.
Phil beckoned the EMT's over as they emerged from their vehicle. Joe guided Frank to a seat beside his mother, and then stepped back to let the paramedics work. Both Mrs. Hardy and Frank were given supplemental oxygen for a few minutes, and the bump on Frank's head was examined, but neither one was actually hurt, and they both shook their heads in refusal when the medics suggested they go to the hospital and be checked over.
"Is there anything I can do?" Stan Axemeyer hovered anxiously about, watching the Hardys, and the fire crew. Laura assured him that they were essentially unhurt, and needed nothing, so Stan returned to his own house, looking back and shaking his head in disbelief over his neighbors' woes.
"It's out." One of the firefighters came over to the little group on the lawn, to report. "There's some smoke damage to the walls, but mostly what was burned was the draperies. It's going to reek to high heaven, but it's habitable. How did it start, anyway?"
Officer Lennet, of the Bayport Police, had joined the Hardys and Phil, as well. Middle-aged, with thinning black hair and brown eyes, Lennet was a bit on the heavy side, but still in good condition. He got out his notebook and jotted notes as the Hardys related what they could about what had happened. Laura told them she really had been napping on the couch before Frank's arrival, and had awakened to find a cushion being pressed over her face, cutting off her air supply until she lost consciousness.
"It was lucky that Joe came home when he did," Lennet commented, snapping his notebook shut. "Otherwise instead of facing an arson charge, whoever did this would be up for murder!"
"Luck had nothing to do with it." Joe growled. "I came home because Phil and I read the newest chapter of Truth and Consequences." But Officer Lennet had already turned away.
"I was online for about half an hour after you left," Mrs. Hardy said. "And there weren't any new chapters posted then."
"And I came straight home, after I picked up Mom's car." Frank said. "That only leaves a window of maybe 20 minutes. Until now, the chapters have always been posted before things happened. Not this time. Why the change?"
The paramedics left, followed by the fire truck, which roared down the street, its engine making nearly as much racket as if the siren had been used. Detective Garner, who had come along with Officer Lennet, waved at the Hardys and got into the squad car with Lennet. The police departed, and the Hardys and Phil were left standing on the front lawn by themselves.
"Let's go in and face it." Laura sounded resigned, and she led the way towards the front door with grimly set features. But things weren't quite as bad as they might have been. Although things were soaking wet from the firefighters' hoses, and the wall was scorched and blackened with soot, it looked to be easily repaired. Laura looked about her ordinarily-neat living room and sighed wearily.
"I'm going to bed," she said. "I'll work on cleaning up the mess tomorrow." She bid Phil goodnight, kissed Frank and Joe, and went upstairs.
"Let's go in and see what it says on the story site," Joe suggested, and the three boys headed into the den. The computer was still on, and Frank looked enquiringly at it.
"Mom always turns it off when she's done." he noted. "Do you suppose whoever hit us and started the fire also turned on the computer?"
Phil sat down and reached for the mouse. After a moment, he frowned. "Guys…another computer has been accessed from here."
"Can you access it again?" Frank demanded eagerly.
"Yup…just a minute…." Phil's fingers moved surely over the keyboard. "There. Hmmm, apparently that computer is still logged on. Whoever the culprit is must not have been able to return home and disconnect." He clicked the mouse again and again, exploring the files on the computer which had been accessed from their own. Finally, he leaned back and looked up at Frank and Joe. "It's your web master." he said. "That last chapter posted was done from here!" Phil began looking for something which might reveal who the web master was, but abruptly, he was cut off.
"I forgot!" Joe said. "I'd better tell Mom to cancel her credit card! And see if the company can tell us when the charge for the services was posted."
"Huh?" Frank stared at him uncomprehendingly.
Joe, however, was already heading towards the stairs, hoping his mother was still awake. It fell to Phil to explain what had happened with Mrs. Hardy's credit card being charged for the site fees. Frank was incensed, but realized there wasn't anything they could do at the moment, other than cancel the card.
Phil was checking out the message board now, looking for more comments featuring the Hardys. He read silently for a few minutes, then sat back. "Look." he said quietly. "I've noticed something. All the posts that mention you guys by name have the same style of writing. No mistakes: no dangling participles, no spelling errors, no chat-speak. It's kind of like that chapter that Joe and I read."
Frank stared at his friend. "Go back to the story." he commanded.
Phil was right. All the chapters were written the same way – perfect grammar, perfect sentence structure, no slang.
"Theory time," Frank said grimly. "Whoever is posting about Frank and Joe is also the writer of the story about Fletcher and Jeremy, and is also the person in charge of the site!"
Joe came back downstairs. "Mom's fit to be tied," he announced cheerfully. "She called the credit card company right away, and they've canceled the card, and are removing the charges for the site fees."
"Let's call it a night." Frank sighed. "I've got a headache, and I want some sleep. Phil, I'd offer to let you sleep here, but everything smells like smoke. So I'll run you home." He got to his feet and headed for the door, followed by Phil.
"I'm going to call Vanessa." Joe reached for the phone. "I want to make sure she's okay, and that she wasn't attacked too."
The next day, Frank rose early, feeling much better. His headache was gone, and when he went downstairs, he found that much of the smoky odor had dissipated, thanks to the windows which had been opened the night before. He went into the den and turned on the computer.
He was still sitting in front of the monitor when Joe and Laura came downstairs. Laura fixed breakfast, and the three ate, then set to work to clear up the mess in the living room. A couple of hours' hard work had the room looking much better, and Laura consoled herself with the thought that they had needed new drapes anyway.
Frank and Joe checked in the garage for paint which matched the walls, but what was there wasn't nearly enough to cover the smoke-stained walls.
"Nothing to do but go to the hardware store and get some more," Frank remarked, and jotted down the name of the paint, to be sure they got the right one. He and Joe were just preparing to leave for the store, when Laura called to them from the den.
"Frank! Joe! Another new chapter has been posted!"
The boys bounded in, and sat down in front of the desk. As they accessed the story, Joe began to grumble.
"We're doing exactly what the writer wants, you know – we're visiting the site over and over and over, to see if something new is posted. Look! See that?" he growled. "Pop-ups! That means Mystique has already started making money off the things that are happening to us!"
To his surprise, Joe found that Frank wasn't sharing his indignation. Instead, his older brother was grinning widely, and reaching for his cell phone, which was sitting on the desk. Frank punched digits and waited patiently for the call to be answered.
"Phil? It's Frank – what's wrong, you sound….Oh. Sorry – yeah, I know, I know; we interrupted that project you were working on, and you needed to finish it, but – hey, listen! The mystery site has advertisements popping up!" He grinned wickedly, listening to Phil's reply. "Thanks, we owe you!" he said, and ended the call.
"Okay, what was all that about?" Joe demanded.
"Well, first off, Phil had to stay up all night to finish the project we interrupted;" Frank ticked items off on his fingers. "And second, and more importantly – he can trace who the advertisers are paying by hacking into their systems. He's off and running!"
The boys and Laura settled down to read the latest chapter. According to Mystique, Fletcher had rescued his mother and Jeremy from the fire.
"Wrong again!" Joe growled. "It was Fletcher in the fire, not Jeremy!"
"Shhh." Frank waved him to silence. "I'm reading."
The chapter went on; Fletcher was determined not to let anyone else try to hurt his mom or little brother, but the antagonist – unnamed as yet – had other ideas. A trap was set for Fletcher. The next time he left the house, he would be the recipient of a poisoned dart. The chapter ended with Jeremy making Fletcher stay home because they have uncovered the plot against them, and Jeremy going to the store to get items needed to repair the damage caused by the fire.
"Right!" Frank snarled. "Where would our assailant get a poisoned dart? And if he thinks I'd let you go to the store by yourself, he's crazy!"
Mrs. Hardy was looking at her sons with a worried frown. "I don't like the idea of either of you risking yourselves." she said. "I have a better idea. Why don't you call Chet, and see if he can pick up what we need and bring it over?"
Frank's scowl lightened, and Joe laughed. "Mom, you're the greatest! You've outwitted the evil Mystique!" He picked up the phone and dialed Chet's number, and their friend readily agreed to help them out.
"I've been dying of curiosity about the fire!" Chet announced. "It's on the front page of the newspaper!"
Curious, Frank checked the site message board again, and found that already another note had been posted, relating the events in the story to Frank and Joe Hardy.
"I sure wish I knew who was doing those messages!" Joe grumbled, reading over Frank's shoulder.
"But we do!" Frank turned to him, surprised. "Oh – wait a minute, you were upstairs with Mom last night when Phil and I found the link between the messages and the story! Wait'll you hear!" Quickly, he told Joe and Laura what he and Phil had discovered.
"What do you say we go and visit Ms. Westerman, your English teacher." Frank suggested, then.
"Why?" Joe asked.
"Well, whoever is in charge of this site obviously has it in for her, otherwise she wouldn't have been attacked twice – and she is in the story, after all! Maybe she knows who it is." Frank reasoned.
But before they could set out, Laura vetoed the idea.
"Not a chance, kids. Chet will be here soon with the paint, and the living room walls have the first priority this afternoon. Ms. Westerman is just going to have to wait."
Several hours later, with the living room walls wearing a fresh coat of paint and lunch having been eaten, Frank and Joe bid their mother goodbye and set out for Ms. Westerman's home.
Some time later, Frank opened his eyes, and slowly became aware that he had a throbbing headache. He automatically tried to lift a hand to rub his head – and realized that he was unable to do so. He was bound securely to a chair…one of the dining room chairs, he noted dimly, and there was a gag tied across his mouth. Turning his head to look around, he saw he was in the living room, and to his horror, saw another chair, back-to-back with his own. Seated in it, bound and gagged just as he was, was his mother. From the little Frank could see, she was either asleep or unconscious, her head drooping forward.
Suddenly, Frank took in the fact that the air in the room was filling with smoke, and with shock, he saw that the living room drapes were on fire! He struggled frantically with his bonds, trying to loosen them, but to no avail; they were securely tied, and the knots were nowhere near his hands. He began to cough, for the fire was spreading, and the acrid smoke becoming thicker.
From where he was sitting, Frank could see the clock on the wall, and knew that he'd been unconscious for nearly an hour. Where was Joe? Why hadn't he returned home yet? Joe, come on – come on, little brother, I need you really, really bad right now! Frank concentrated hard; he didn't believe in psychic links, but at this point anything was worth a try, and there wasn't anything else he could do! He coughed again, harder, the sounds muffled by the gag, and heard his mother doing the same. She was evidently conscious, for he felt her struggling against the ropes, but like him, Laura could do nothing to free herself.
As if in answer to his urgent thoughts, Frank heard a noise at the front door, then a muffled shout, and seconds later, Joe and Phil burst into the room. Phil darted over to them, and started untying Laura, while Joe dashed for the kitchen to get the small fire extinguisher kept there.
"Hang on, Frank; I'll get you in a minute…" Phil panted, jerking at the cords holding Mrs. Hardy to her chair. Joe returned, and started spraying the fire with the extinguisher, but the flames were already too far advanced to be contained. The extinguisher was soon emptied, and still the fire grew, licking at the walls next to the window. Joe flung the canister down and ran to free Frank, as Phil helped Laura to her feet and assisted her to the front door.
"Here – almost got it…" Joe had grabbed not only the fire extinguisher from the kitchen, but a sharp knife as well, and he quickly slashed the cords holding Frank, then helped his brother stand.
Frank staggered and nearly fell, dizzy from the smoke and the earlier blow to the head. Joe pulled Frank's arm across his shoulder, then half-walked, half-carried him to the door. Fresh air hit their faces, and both boys gasped in relief. As they stumbled down the porch steps, the scream of a siren sounded, and a fire engine roared to a stop in front of their house.
Stan Axemeyer came running out of his house and seeing Laura sitting on the ground with one of the boys' friends, rushed over to see if she was all right, as firefighters leaped from the engine, and in what seemed like merely seconds, had their hoses connected to a hydrant, and were inside the house, spraying water on the fire. A police cruiser and a paramedics' truck swept up behind the fire engine.
Phil beckoned the EMT's over as they emerged from their vehicle. Joe guided Frank to a seat beside his mother, and then stepped back to let the paramedics work. Both Mrs. Hardy and Frank were given supplemental oxygen for a few minutes, and the bump on Frank's head was examined, but neither one was actually hurt, and they both shook their heads in refusal when the medics suggested they go to the hospital and be checked over.
"Is there anything I can do?" Stan Axemeyer hovered anxiously about, watching the Hardys, and the fire crew. Laura assured him that they were essentially unhurt, and needed nothing, so Stan returned to his own house, looking back and shaking his head in disbelief over his neighbors' woes.
"It's out." One of the firefighters came over to the little group on the lawn, to report. "There's some smoke damage to the walls, but mostly what was burned was the draperies. It's going to reek to high heaven, but it's habitable. How did it start, anyway?"
Officer Lennet, of the Bayport Police, had joined the Hardys and Phil, as well. Middle-aged, with thinning black hair and brown eyes, Lennet was a bit on the heavy side, but still in good condition. He got out his notebook and jotted notes as the Hardys related what they could about what had happened. Laura told them she really had been napping on the couch before Frank's arrival, and had awakened to find a cushion being pressed over her face, cutting off her air supply until she lost consciousness.
"It was lucky that Joe came home when he did," Lennet commented, snapping his notebook shut. "Otherwise instead of facing an arson charge, whoever did this would be up for murder!"
"Luck had nothing to do with it." Joe growled. "I came home because Phil and I read the newest chapter of Truth and Consequences." But Officer Lennet had already turned away.
"I was online for about half an hour after you left," Mrs. Hardy said. "And there weren't any new chapters posted then."
"And I came straight home, after I picked up Mom's car." Frank said. "That only leaves a window of maybe 20 minutes. Until now, the chapters have always been posted before things happened. Not this time. Why the change?"
The paramedics left, followed by the fire truck, which roared down the street, its engine making nearly as much racket as if the siren had been used. Detective Garner, who had come along with Officer Lennet, waved at the Hardys and got into the squad car with Lennet. The police departed, and the Hardys and Phil were left standing on the front lawn by themselves.
"Let's go in and face it." Laura sounded resigned, and she led the way towards the front door with grimly set features. But things weren't quite as bad as they might have been. Although things were soaking wet from the firefighters' hoses, and the wall was scorched and blackened with soot, it looked to be easily repaired. Laura looked about her ordinarily-neat living room and sighed wearily.
"I'm going to bed," she said. "I'll work on cleaning up the mess tomorrow." She bid Phil goodnight, kissed Frank and Joe, and went upstairs.
"Let's go in and see what it says on the story site," Joe suggested, and the three boys headed into the den. The computer was still on, and Frank looked enquiringly at it.
"Mom always turns it off when she's done." he noted. "Do you suppose whoever hit us and started the fire also turned on the computer?"
Phil sat down and reached for the mouse. After a moment, he frowned. "Guys…another computer has been accessed from here."
"Can you access it again?" Frank demanded eagerly.
"Yup…just a minute…." Phil's fingers moved surely over the keyboard. "There. Hmmm, apparently that computer is still logged on. Whoever the culprit is must not have been able to return home and disconnect." He clicked the mouse again and again, exploring the files on the computer which had been accessed from their own. Finally, he leaned back and looked up at Frank and Joe. "It's your web master." he said. "That last chapter posted was done from here!" Phil began looking for something which might reveal who the web master was, but abruptly, he was cut off.
"I forgot!" Joe said. "I'd better tell Mom to cancel her credit card! And see if the company can tell us when the charge for the services was posted."
"Huh?" Frank stared at him uncomprehendingly.
Joe, however, was already heading towards the stairs, hoping his mother was still awake. It fell to Phil to explain what had happened with Mrs. Hardy's credit card being charged for the site fees. Frank was incensed, but realized there wasn't anything they could do at the moment, other than cancel the card.
Phil was checking out the message board now, looking for more comments featuring the Hardys. He read silently for a few minutes, then sat back. "Look." he said quietly. "I've noticed something. All the posts that mention you guys by name have the same style of writing. No mistakes: no dangling participles, no spelling errors, no chat-speak. It's kind of like that chapter that Joe and I read."
Frank stared at his friend. "Go back to the story." he commanded.
Phil was right. All the chapters were written the same way – perfect grammar, perfect sentence structure, no slang.
"Theory time," Frank said grimly. "Whoever is posting about Frank and Joe is also the writer of the story about Fletcher and Jeremy, and is also the person in charge of the site!"
Joe came back downstairs. "Mom's fit to be tied," he announced cheerfully. "She called the credit card company right away, and they've canceled the card, and are removing the charges for the site fees."
"Let's call it a night." Frank sighed. "I've got a headache, and I want some sleep. Phil, I'd offer to let you sleep here, but everything smells like smoke. So I'll run you home." He got to his feet and headed for the door, followed by Phil.
"I'm going to call Vanessa." Joe reached for the phone. "I want to make sure she's okay, and that she wasn't attacked too."
The next day, Frank rose early, feeling much better. His headache was gone, and when he went downstairs, he found that much of the smoky odor had dissipated, thanks to the windows which had been opened the night before. He went into the den and turned on the computer.
He was still sitting in front of the monitor when Joe and Laura came downstairs. Laura fixed breakfast, and the three ate, then set to work to clear up the mess in the living room. A couple of hours' hard work had the room looking much better, and Laura consoled herself with the thought that they had needed new drapes anyway.
Frank and Joe checked in the garage for paint which matched the walls, but what was there wasn't nearly enough to cover the smoke-stained walls.
"Nothing to do but go to the hardware store and get some more," Frank remarked, and jotted down the name of the paint, to be sure they got the right one. He and Joe were just preparing to leave for the store, when Laura called to them from the den.
"Frank! Joe! Another new chapter has been posted!"
The boys bounded in, and sat down in front of the desk. As they accessed the story, Joe began to grumble.
"We're doing exactly what the writer wants, you know – we're visiting the site over and over and over, to see if something new is posted. Look! See that?" he growled. "Pop-ups! That means Mystique has already started making money off the things that are happening to us!"
To his surprise, Joe found that Frank wasn't sharing his indignation. Instead, his older brother was grinning widely, and reaching for his cell phone, which was sitting on the desk. Frank punched digits and waited patiently for the call to be answered.
"Phil? It's Frank – what's wrong, you sound….Oh. Sorry – yeah, I know, I know; we interrupted that project you were working on, and you needed to finish it, but – hey, listen! The mystery site has advertisements popping up!" He grinned wickedly, listening to Phil's reply. "Thanks, we owe you!" he said, and ended the call.
"Okay, what was all that about?" Joe demanded.
"Well, first off, Phil had to stay up all night to finish the project we interrupted;" Frank ticked items off on his fingers. "And second, and more importantly – he can trace who the advertisers are paying by hacking into their systems. He's off and running!"
The boys and Laura settled down to read the latest chapter. According to Mystique, Fletcher had rescued his mother and Jeremy from the fire.
"Wrong again!" Joe growled. "It was Fletcher in the fire, not Jeremy!"
"Shhh." Frank waved him to silence. "I'm reading."
The chapter went on; Fletcher was determined not to let anyone else try to hurt his mom or little brother, but the antagonist – unnamed as yet – had other ideas. A trap was set for Fletcher. The next time he left the house, he would be the recipient of a poisoned dart. The chapter ended with Jeremy making Fletcher stay home because they have uncovered the plot against them, and Jeremy going to the store to get items needed to repair the damage caused by the fire.
"Right!" Frank snarled. "Where would our assailant get a poisoned dart? And if he thinks I'd let you go to the store by yourself, he's crazy!"
Mrs. Hardy was looking at her sons with a worried frown. "I don't like the idea of either of you risking yourselves." she said. "I have a better idea. Why don't you call Chet, and see if he can pick up what we need and bring it over?"
Frank's scowl lightened, and Joe laughed. "Mom, you're the greatest! You've outwitted the evil Mystique!" He picked up the phone and dialed Chet's number, and their friend readily agreed to help them out.
"I've been dying of curiosity about the fire!" Chet announced. "It's on the front page of the newspaper!"
Curious, Frank checked the site message board again, and found that already another note had been posted, relating the events in the story to Frank and Joe Hardy.
"I sure wish I knew who was doing those messages!" Joe grumbled, reading over Frank's shoulder.
"But we do!" Frank turned to him, surprised. "Oh – wait a minute, you were upstairs with Mom last night when Phil and I found the link between the messages and the story! Wait'll you hear!" Quickly, he told Joe and Laura what he and Phil had discovered.
"What do you say we go and visit Ms. Westerman, your English teacher." Frank suggested, then.
"Why?" Joe asked.
"Well, whoever is in charge of this site obviously has it in for her, otherwise she wouldn't have been attacked twice – and she is in the story, after all! Maybe she knows who it is." Frank reasoned.
But before they could set out, Laura vetoed the idea.
"Not a chance, kids. Chet will be here soon with the paint, and the living room walls have the first priority this afternoon. Ms. Westerman is just going to have to wait."
Several hours later, with the living room walls wearing a fresh coat of paint and lunch having been eaten, Frank and Joe bid their mother goodbye and set out for Ms. Westerman's home.