"Sir, Frank Hardy and Chet Morton are here," the sergeant at the front desk buzzed Chief Madison in his office.

"Send them through," replied Chief Madison, looking across his desk at Fenton Hardy.

"Dad, Tandem's working with some guy named Cunningham," Frank said entering Madison's office. "We went to his place but didn't have enough time to check it out."

"Was anyone there?" Madison demanded, his green eyes narrowing on Frank.

"No," answered Frank. "It's a run-down house at the end of a cul de sac, but the locks on the place are new. Too, there were peanut shells near the woods. Sarah Jameson said Tandem liked to crack his own. I'm betting Tandem is somewhere in the woods near there."

"Possible," agreed Fenton.

"What evidence do you have that they are working together?" inquired Madison. After talking with Fenton Hardy he was itching to nab Tandem but he couldn't get a search warrant for Cunningham's residence without just cause.

Frank told him what the secretary at Yasmine had said. "That isn't enough for a warrant," Madison said with a scowl.

"How about having the place watched?" suggested Fenton.

"I don't have the man power for twenty-four hour surveillance of the place," Madison replied regretfully. "But I can arrange for a night watch."

"That would help," Fenton said gratefully to the chief before turning to look at Frank. "Tandem rented a helicopter in Southport," he informed his son. "The charter service reported it as stolen this morning when it was not returned. However, two of Chief Madison's men found the abandoned chopper not far from town."

"Any sign that Joe was on it?" asked Chet.

"Forensics found fingerprints that matched Joe's via the FBI's database," Madison informed him. "That was why I called Fenton and asked him to meet with me today."

"Any leads?" asked Frank, his eyes sparking with hope.

"The pilot, Aaron Lawrence, lives in town," Madison informed the group. "Lived, I should say," he amended. "His place was deserted when we went to arrest him." He held up a hand to ward off any questions until he finished. "We did find an envelope delivered to Lawrence's address but it was addressed to a Paul Michaels."

"Michaels is alive and helping Tandem!" Frank practically shouted.

"It looks that way," concurred Fenton with a tight set to his lips.

"But is he doing it willingly?" asked Chet. "I mean, didn't he help turn Tandem in before?"

"No," denied Fenton. "He just refused to experiment on live subjects. I think it is time to have a talk with his sister."

"Does she live near here?" asked Chief Madison.

"No, but she may have heard from him," Fenton explained. "I'll have Jack fly me over," he continued. "But I will be back tomorrow afternoon at the latest," he promised. "In the meantime, check out the woods behind Cunningham's," he instructed the youths. "But be careful."

Frank and Chet left the station and returned to Cunningham's road, parking behind a thicket of trees and overgrown weeds. They hiked through the woods in silence, avoiding both words and the twigs that scattered the path before them.

"It's getting dark," Chet whispered a few minutes later.

Frank nodded his agreement. The trees above were so close that their leaves blocked the sun and the earth they now trod was littered with a lime green moss. Frank kept his head turned forward but his eyes continually darted around, trying to find some indication that a human had been this route before but all he observed was nature at its finest. Ants crawling on the trees and caterpillars chewing lazily on leaves were only part of what he saw. Blue jays darted here and there and occasionally a bee would buzz close by his ear before continuing on its journey to the next bush of Rhododendron.

"Shh!" hissed Frank, stopping. He had heard something.

"It's them," whispered Chet, his lips close to Frank's ear.

Frank nodded as the muffled voices penetrated the air. "I think so," he said. "Wait here."

Chet grabbed Frank's arm and shook his head. "You can't take them alone."

"I'm just going to get close enough to listen," Frank assured his buddy. "These may not even be who we are looking for." Chet released his grip and watched as Frank crept closer to the voices.

"I don't like it," a rich baritone was saying. "You should never have gone to Bayport. Hardy wasn't after us. He didn't have a clue where you were."

"What are you worried about Paul?" demanded Tandem. "Everyone thinks you're dead."

"But if Hardy finds you then he will find me," Paul whined. "You know, I don't understand why he's going to so much trouble. You only took your file. That doesn't warrant the manhunt he has started."

"I took a bit more than that," Tandem said, grinning wickedly.

Frank's fist tightened but he kept quite. There would be plenty of time to take Tandem down after he rescued Joe.

"What do you mean?" Dr. Michaels demanded.

"Hardy's son was there," Tandem confessed. "And he was exactly the kind of boy we need."

"Was?" Michaels jumped on the verb.

"Yes, was," acknowledged Tandem completely oblivious to the effect his words were having on the hidden youth only a few feet away. "The kid put up a fight when I tried to drug him and he fell out of the chopper somewhere between Richmond and here."

"He's dead?"

"He would have to be at the height we were traveling," Tandem replied. "Besides, if by some miracle he did survive the fall he would be dead anyway. It was a wooded area and the Appalachians have their fair share or better of mountain lions and bears."