Frank rushed down the corridor until his path was blocked by people. "Excuse me," he said, trying to push his way through the crowd. "I know first aid."

"Too late for that," one man said, shaking his head and grabbing Frank's arm to halt his progress.

Too choked up to speak, Frank jerked his arm loose and backed away from the mob of people.

"Easy," came a familiar voice as he backed into someone.

Frank spun around and gasped in relieved surprise. "You're okay," he said, grabbing Joe and giving him a quick hug. "Who?" he asked, inclining his head toward the crowd.

"Harrison," Joe replied. "He came to make sure I flipped the right panel switch."

"I don't see how Steve saw through your disguise," Frank said in puzzlement. "I didn't even recognize you."

"I doubt he did," Joe stated. "He was really mad at Harrison. He may have called someone to rig it to electrocute him after Harrison had left the room to check on me. That man has one bad temper."

"You'd better get over there and check out the place," Frank advised him. "Harrison may have known what Steve was doing and had him killed for that reason."

Frank waited in the corridor for the ambulance after Joe had departed. He watched the crowd of people hovering nearby and tried to find one who would fit a description of one of the bank robbers Joe had given.

A little bit later, an ambulance arrived with the police. Frank spotted Sergeant Con Riley as he walked down the corridor. Con was an old friend of the Hardys and he would let Frank know if the wiring had been tampered with.

Frank waited until the crowd had dispersed before going over to the brown-haired, brown-eyed officer in his mid-twenties. "Con," Frank said in a low voice so as not to attract the attention of Mr. Thompson who was talking with one of the officers.

Con turned around, looked at Frank, and gave a little smile of resignation. "I should have known," he said, taking in Frank's disguise. "You know, your voice is a dead giveaway?" he asked.

"Only to people who know me," Frank countered.

"What do you know about this?" Con asked, lifting an eyebrow in question. Frank quickly brought Con up to date. "I can't let you go back there, but I will call you tonight with what I found out," Con promised. "And I expect you to keep me posted," he added.

Frank nodded and returned to his office to pick up where he had left off. A short time later, Joe returned. "Find anything?" Frank asked, a little surprised to see him so soon.

"In a way," Joe said. "By the time I got back there, Steve had cleared his desk out."

"Maybe he thinks the police are on to him about Harrison's murder," Frank suggested.

"Or maybe he knows I am free and can identify him," Joe added.

"Or maybe, he didn't want to take a chance of anyone snooping through his stuff and just took it with him and left early for the day," Frank said, frowning. "I guess we will find out later," he added with a shrug of his shoulders.

"I did find a slip of paper with an address on it caught in the back of his top drawer," Joe said, handing the paper to Frank. "We should check it out."

"Right after work," Frank agreed.

"Can't," Joe said and told him about his invitation to Shandra's.

"What about Iola?" Frank asked, mentioning Joe's girlfriend.

"This is strictly business," Joe told him, frowning. "She may know something about what's going on here."

"Maybe," Frank said. "But why do you think she's involved? Weren't your abductors all male?"

"Yes," Joe agreed. "But she does work here and any lead will help."

Frank shot Joe a look that said he wasn't buying Joe's explanation before turning back to his computer. "I found out what Steve is working on," he told Joe. "It's a program that would print up data on anyone who came within range of the video camera connected to the satellite Hanover created."

"How could it do that?" Joe asked.

"It starts with the picture and accesses all files at it's disposal. And since it's a computer, it can interface with all computers until it has attained the data," Frank explained.

"What if someone came in but didn't look like themselves?" Joe asked.

"In disguise, like us, you mean?" Frank asked with a grin. "If no picture can be found, then the computer runs an analysis on facial structure. Failing that, there is a mechanism to check the fingerprint which is run through hospital databases so that even if the person did not have a criminal record, they could still be identified."

"How does it get the fingerprint?" Joe asked in awe.

"I'm not sure," was the reply. "Steve was still working on that. I think, though, the print may be taken through some type of device which will be connected to the door and hooked up to the satellite as well."

"Sounds complicated," Joe remarked.

"It is," Frank agreed.

"Have you found out how they're clearing the tapes?" Joe asked.

"No," Frank said, frowning. "I've been checking for a virus but I can't find anything."

"Keep looking," Joe suggested, standing up. "I'd better get a move on before I get fired," he added, heading toward the door.

After work, Joe met Shandra at her car. "Nice set of wheels," Joe commented, looking at the '57 Chevy in almost mint condition.

"I love old cars," Shandra admitted, grinning at Joe before unlocking the door.

"Me too," Joe told her. "I had a Woody last year," he added, climbing in.

"Had?" she asked after she had gotten in and closed her door.

"Yeah. I found it when I was vacationing last summer. It was really beat up. It needed everything," he smiled, remembering the fun he had. "I like to fix them up but I can't afford the parts, so I made a deal with a collector. I fixed it and he paid for all the parts and gave me a bonus for the work."

"It's great when you can make money doing something you enjoy," she said a bit wistfully, starting the engine and driving to the gate.

"Don't you like what you do?" Joe asked.

"It's a living," she said, shrugging her shoulders and giving a faint smile.

"What would you rather be doing?" Joe asked.

"I've always wanted to be an actress," she replied.

"How did you get into accounting?" Joe asked. "I don't see any relation."

"There isn't one," she responded with a grimace. "My parents felt I needed a solid career so they convinced me to get something I could fall back on in case my acting career never took off."

"What happened?" Joe asked, still wondering how she managed to become a full time accountant.

"As soon as I got my CPA, my dad called my cousin who pulled a few strings and I ended up at Thompson Security. The pay's excellent but the hours don't lend themselves to auditions," she said.

"Do you ever think about quitting and following your dream?" Joe wanted to know.

"Frequently," she replied with a sigh. "I'm saving up. As soon as I have enough to support myself for a year, I'm resigning."

"Good luck," Joe told her. "I hope you make it big."

She glanced sideways at him. "You don't think I'm crazy?" she asked him seriously.

"No way," Joe denied with a shake of his head. "I'm a firm believer in being happy with what you do. Besides," he added with a shy grin. "When you become famous, I can say I knew you when."

Smiling, Shandra pulled off the highway and eased onto a tree-lined street. "Nice area," Joe commented, looking at the Victorian style houses they were passing.

"I know," Shandra admitted. "My cousin rents me the basement of his house. I've got two bedrooms, a living room, kitchen, and a full bath. Wait until you see it. I couldn't believe a basement could be so big."

"What's your cousin's name?" Joe asked.

"Jim Simmons," she answered. "He works at Hanover Industries. He's the one dad contacted when I got my degree in accounting. Jim arranged my job at Thompson." Shandra pulled into the fourth house on the right. Joe checked the address as they pulled in. It matched the one on the page he had found in Steve's desk!

"Do you hang out much with your cousin?" Joe asked casually.

"Not really," Shandra replied. "We generally have dinner together once a week and sometimes we'll play cards or Scrabble if it's raining, but that's about it."

She parked the car and got out. Joe followed her to the back of the house where there was an entrance into her basement apartment.

"Have a seat," she said, gesturing toward a pale blue sofa near the wall in the living room. "I'll put the casserole in the mike and be with you in a jiffy." Joe sat down on the sofa as she left the room. As soon as she was out of sight, Joe reached into the sofa to see if he could find anything to tie in with the case.

All he came up with was a comb and some change. He quickly stuffed it back in and looked beneath the cushions. He found nothing. Not knowing how much more time he had, he replaced the cushions and sat back, leaning one arm over the top of the sofa. Shandra returned less than a minute later.

"It won't be fifteen minutes," she promised Joe. "If you don't mind, I'm going to change before dinner. I hate wearing my work clothes at home," she told him.

"Me too," Joe said. "Take your time," he told her, watching her cross over to the bedroom.

After the door had closed behind her, he got up and went over to the desk which stood in the corner. He pulled out each drawer and gave the contents a quick going over. Then he searched through the papers on the desk. Finding nothing of interest, he began looking under all the furniture. He had just finished his unfruitful search and returned to the sofa when Shandra returned wearing faded blue jeans and a gray tee shirt.

"Come on," she said, coming over to Joe and taking his hand. She tugged on his hand as she backed up. Joe rose and together they went into the bedroom. "For a basement apartment I couldn't believe how spacious this place is," she told him.

Joe took in the four-poster bed, chest, dresser, stereo, vanity and desk with a small shake of his head. "This is three times bigger than my bedroom," he admitted in awe.

She led Joe into the second bedroom. "This one is almost as big as yours," he said. "Do you have a roommate?"

"No," she denied. "This is for guests. Now for the bathroom," she said walking over to a door, which connected the two bedrooms.

"Speaking of which," Joe said with a sheepish grin. "I need to wash up if that's okay?"

"Of course," she said. "I'm sorry. I should have thought of it before. Go ahead and when you are done, come into the kitchen."

"Sure thing," Joe agreed, smiling at her. After she left, he made a search of her bedroom. He had almost given up when he saw a crumpled sheet of paper behind the waste can. He never took time to look at it, but went to the bathroom to clean up. When he was done, he went into the other room and looked around. Finding nothing, he made his way through the dining room into the kitchen.

"I'll take the Jacuzzi," Joe said as he went inside the kitchen. He was referring to his favorite part of the bathroom.

"Isn't it great!" Shandra agreed with a huge smile. "Feel free to use it," she said with a not so shy glance at Joe.

"Um, thanks," Joe said. "Can I help?"

"You can set the table," she told him, opening the cabinet and getting out some salad oil. "The plates and glasses are in the first two cabinets and the silverware is in the third drawer on your right."

Joe set the table while she finished tossing the salad. They chatted about old cars throughout the dinner and discussed the Oscar awards as they did the dishes.

Meanwhile, Frank had finished his day at Thompson Security and gone home. There he had a bowl of soup and a bologna sandwich for dinner then went upstairs and fed some data to his computer. Then he had pulled up a map on his monitor and located the address Joe had found. The owner was Jim Simmons, who had lived there for over three years and worked at Hanover Industries.

Wondering if this was the same Jim who had been involved in the bank heist, Frank headed downstairs. After leaving his father a message telling where Joe had gone and where he was going, he left.

Frank arrived at 1411 Medcliff Drive in just under an hour. He drove past it and parked his car. He crossed the street and walked until he was opposite the house. He was trying to think of a way to get inside when a red-headed guy and a girl with brown hair made their way from the back of the house to the front door. Frank watched as the door opened and his brother and Shandra went inside.

Frank crossed the street and went to a window in the front yard where a light had been turned on. He was grateful the shrubbery was large enough to hide him.

Peering in, he saw Joe, Shandra and another man roughly six feet tall with black hair. They were all seated at a table and a fourth person, with brown hair and a mustache was walking towards a desk on the far side of the room.

Frank was moving to get a better view of him when he heard the rustle of shrubs as they were being pushed aside. He turned his head to see what had caused the noise and found himself facing the barrel of a gun.

"Come on out friend," ordered a gruff voice. "Nice and slow and you may get to live a little longer."