Fenton entered the sheriff's office with the teens following close behind him. Sheriff Tanner looked up from his desk as they entered and took in the tense set of the man and the sadness on the boys' faces. He rose to greet them. "Hello gentlemen. What can I do for you?" he asked.

"We're here to find my son," Fenton stated, stepping up to shake the sheriff's hand but dropping his own when the sheriff kept his hands by his side and just looked at him in suspicion.

"Your son?" the sheriff repeated.

"His name is Joe," Fenton began. "We have reason to believe he is somewhere in the vicinity, or at least within a thirty-mile radius," he amended.

"What does he look like?" inquired the sheriff with a distinctive tightening of his jaw.

"He has blond hair and blue eyes and is seventeen years old with an athletic build," Fenton answered. "But ..."

"And you have proof?" inquired the sheriff. "Solid evidence that he is your son? A passport? A birth certificate? Pictures?" he demanded. There was no way he was going to let Joe go with anyone again without hard evidence. He had made that mistake once before and it had nearly cost the boy his life.

"Exactly what is your problem?" demanded Fenton angrily. He had had enough of the sheriff's antagonistic attitude.

"Blond hair and blue eyes?" countered the sheriff. "Your son? Doesn't look anything like you, I suppose?"

"Do you know to whom you are talking to?" inquired Phil, stepping forward.

"I don't care who I am talking too," the sheriff snapped. "I have received no missing person's report on a blond-headed, blue eyed teenager. If he is this man's son and he is missing, perhaps you would care to tell me why a report was never filed?"

"Because he isn't missing," Fenton rasped, his face paling at the attack. "He's dead. He was abducted from our home several days ago by a mad man. We recently found out Joe fell out of the helicopter he was being transported in somewhere in this area. We are here to find his body and bring him home for a proper burial."

The sheriff looked into Fenton's face long and hard. "Do you have any pictures of you together?" he demanded. He still wasn't going to give up Joe without proof. Farkas had been an excellent actor.

When the sheriff asked his last question everyone in the room reached for their wallets. Chet pulled out a picture of Joe, Frank, Callie and Iola who had posed together for a group portrait and handed it to the sheriff first. Sheriff Tanner looked at the youths in the picture. Yes, the blond boy was Joe and the other boy looked a lot like the man before him. "Who are these people?" the sheriff asked.

"My sister Iola, Callie and Frank and Joe," Chet answered. "My sister dates Joe."

"And Frank is my eldest son," explained Fenton, showing the sheriff a picture of Joe, one of Frank and then another of them together. Like any proud father, he had several photos in his wallet of his children.

Sheriff Tanner sat down, ignoring the other pictures being offered him. "And what is your name?" he asked, handing the pictures back to their respective owners.

"My name is Fenton Hardy," Fenton answered. "I'm a private investigator. Now, will you please..."

"Dad!" Frank's excited voice interrupted his father. Fenton and the boys turned to look at Frank who had just entered the sheriff's office with Joe held firmly beside him by the arm.

"Joseph!" Fenton rasped, his mouth falling open and his eyes bulging out. He reached Joe in less than a second and pulled him into a tight embrace. "I thought you were dead," he whispered, moving one arm up and pulling Joe's head close to his neck.

Joe stood stiffly. He realized this man was probably his father: his real one. But he felt uncomfortable with a stranger holding him. "What's wrong?" Fenton asked, leaning back and looking into Joe's blue eyes.

"He has amnesia," Frank answered before the sheriff could.

"Don't worry, baby," Fenton told Joe. "We'll take you home and..." he broke off when Joe broke free from him and moved to the sheriff's side. "What's wrong?"

"I'm afraid I am going to need a little more proof than a few photographs before I allow you to take Joe away," Sheriff Tanner said.

"Farkas claimed to be my father but after he got me home he tried to kill me," Joe explained before any of the newcomers could interrupt. "The Fairbanks aren't going to let me go with just anyone claiming to know me again."

"How could you let him go with a stranger?" Frank demanded of the sheriff.

"Farkas knew about the small birthmark on my foot," Joe explained. "Of course Dr. Donovan had told him but we didn't find that out until later."

"You don't have a birthmark on your foot," Fenton said with a scowl. "You have a burn mark from where you were kidnapped by a serial killer. He tortured you some before we found you. That mark was made by a cigarette."

Joe gave a half-smile. "It kind of looked like a burn mark to me," he said.

"And who are the Fairbanks?" asked Biff curiously.

"They found me and took care of me," Joe answered. "Roger Fairbanks is a doctor and his wife, Rachel, is a nurse. They and Spirit, their daughter, have been looking after me since they rescued me from the cave-in."

"Cave-in?" exclaimed the Bayporters.

Joe told everyone what he had been through since regaining consciousness in the Fairbanks's home. "I would love to meet the Fairbanks," Fenton said when Joe had finished. "I owe them a lot for taking care of you."

"You will be meeting them," the sheriff said. "Joe is officially in their custody until his real family is found or until his memory returns. And that means, until you can provide me with a birth certificate and a more extensive photographic library, then Joe will not be going home with you anytime soon."

Fenton pulled out his cell phone and dialed home. Laura answered on the second ring. Without giving her time to speak, Fenton began. "Joe's alive but has amnesia," he informed his wife. "The sheriff wants proof that we are Joe's family before we can take him. Call Jack and have him fly you down here. I'll pick you up at the airport. And bring Joe's birth certificate, his passport, and a photo album with pictures of him growing up."

"Thank God," Laura breathed. "I'll call you as soon as I get in touch with Jack and find out our ETA," she promised. "Can I talk to him?" she asked a bit hesitantly.

Fenton held the phone out to Joe. Joe looked at it with hesitation but finally took it. "Hello?"

"Baby," Laura's voice reached his ears and he could hear the love even in the solitary word. "I love you. I'll be there as soon as I can. Oh, baby. I'm so relieved," she broke off, too overcome to continue.

"Mom?" Joe asked.

"Yes, baby?" Laura said with bated breath. Did he remember her?

"I'm glad you're alive," he said cryptically before giving the phone back to his father.

"We'll explain when we see you," Fenton promised Laura. "Just hurry down here."

Sheriff Tanner looked at Fenton with respect. "You accepted my terms well," he complimented him.

"How can I fault someone for looking after the welfare of my son?" he asked simply. "Now, when do we get to meet the Fairbanks?"

"Here's the address," Sheriff Tanner said, writing it down on a slip of paper and handing it to Fenton. "I'm afraid you will have to wait until tonight. The doctor is on duty today."

"That's okay," Frank said. "We can try and jog Joe's memory while we wait."

"No," the sheriff stopped him from going to Joe's side. "I'm going to run Joe out to the Fairbanks. You will have to wait until they are home before you can go."

"That's not fair!" Frank objected.

"I'm sorry," Tanner replied, not backing down. "I'm not taking any chances with Joe's welfare. You will have to wait."

"They get home around six," Joe told Frank. "You don't mind waiting, do you?"

"Of course I mind!" erupted Frank. "But only because I've missed you. I understand," he continued. "I want you to feel safe with us. With me. If waiting a few hours will make you feel more comfortable, then I'll wait."

"There is a motel just down the street," the sheriff told Fenton. "Even if your wife does make it here this afternoon it will probably be too late for you to return tonight."

"We'll go and take care of the accommodations, then," Fenton said. "But expect us at six," Fenton said. "But, I think your friends will scope the town while we meet the Fairbanks. We don't want to overwhelm them, or you."

"Thanks," Joe said, smiling at his father.

XXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXx

Joe hurried inside the Fairbanks's house when the sheriff dropped him off, anxious to share his news with Spirit.

"How do you feel?" Spirit asked him after he had finished. "Does this man feel like your dad? What about this Frank? Do you feel that you can trust him?"

"I don't know," Joe replied miserably. He sank back on the sofa. "I wanted to trust Farkas and Jerry so much that I tried even though I suspected something was wrong. What if I just want it too much?"

"But why would these people be faking it?" asked Spirit logically. "There isn't any mystery floating around here."

"That we know of," Joe said. "According to Frank, I was kidnapped from home by some mad scientist named Tandem."

"You said he had photos?" Spirit reminded him.

"Yeah," Joe acknowledged. "And Laura, my mom, is supposed to bringing more photos, and a couple of other things to prove I'm really their son."

"Then don't borrow trouble," Spirit told him. "If they can provide proof then they are who they say they are...your family. And maybe being with them, and going home, to your real home, will bring back your memory."

"But what if it doesn't?" Joe asked, looking at her worriedly. "What if I never remember? I'll be in a strange town with a bunch of strangers."

Spirit gave a small laugh. "And that is different from now, how?" she asked.

Joe glared at her. "You know how it is different. I trust you and your parents. I don't know those people."

Spirit went over and hugged him. "If you don't want to go, you don't have too," she told him. "Mom, nor Dad, will let them take you if you don't want to go and I doubt the sheriff would either. Regardless of their proof. It's up to you. Just remember that."

"I know one thing," Joe said. "When I do leave, I am going to miss you and your parents a lot."

"Don't you worry," Spirit told him. "You will always have a place here. And when, if, you do leave, you can come back and visit. And you had better call and write."

"I will," Joe promised, smiling.