After almost thirty minutes, Angelic finally spotted someone who looked like they might be in trouble with the authorities. She picked up her soda and strolled over to him. "Mind if I join you?" she asked, sitting down without waiting for a reply.

"Well, now. It isn't often I get the company of such a sweet young thing," the greasy looking character leered at her.

"Save it," she advised, her green eyes hard. "I have a proposition for you."

"And what would that be?" he asked, not really interested, but finding her amusing.

"How would you like to make around ten thousand dollars? Cash?" she asked.

He narrowed his brown eyes on her and leaned forward in his chair. She had definitely sparked his interest now. "What did you have in mind?" he asked. "I'm an honest guy," he added with a little laugh.

"I will give you three thousand dollars now to purchase a Bowflex, deliver and set it up. On completion, I will give you an additional seven thousand dollars. But..." Angelic stopped and held up a hand as he was about to ask something. "No questions. And you can't tell anyone about what you see in my home."

"No questions and silence," he said, looking at her speculatively. He was wondering what this crazy chick had going on. "And all I have to do is buy a Bowflex and take it to your place and set it up?" Angelic nodded.

"Doesn't sound illegal," he commented, watching her eyes for some sign of a trap. "Okay," he finally agreed. "Give me the three thousand and tell me where to take it."

Angelic pulled out thirty one hundred dollar bills and laid them on the table, pushing them over to him she told him the address. "I'll expect delivery in two hours," she said, standing up.

"You got it, Sweets," he said, finishing his coffee and standing up. He left the diner before she did.

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Joe looked up from his magazine when he heard the basement door open. Expecting to see Angelic enter, he was stunned to see a large man lugging a heavy box into the room. The man came to a stop when he saw Joe imprisoned in the cage.

Starting with a chuckle, the man erupted into gales of laughter. "Well, well, well," he said, wiping his eye. "If it isn't pretty boy Hardy."

Joe's gaze narrowed on the man's face. "Arnie Benton," Joe said, recognizing the two-bit crook. He had seen his face enough in the mug shots down at police headquarters. "What are you doing here?"

"He's delivering a present for you," Angelic told him, coming from behind Arnie, smiling although her eyes were stormy. She unlocked the cage. "Set it up in there," she ordered.

Arnie shrugged and entered. He started unpacking the Bowflex at once. Joe sat on his bed, wondering what Angelic was going to do with Arnie. Judging from the way she was shooting venomous looks at the man's back, he had the feeling it wasn't going to bode well for Benton. Joe knew there was no way Benton would help him, but he still felt he had to warn him about Angelic.

Joe looked at Angelic. "Um, could I have a snack?" he asked.

"Wait until our guest leaves," she replied.

"But I'm starving," Joe said, giving her the sad look he used on Vanessa when he wanted her to agree with him.

"Ah, go get the whiny baby something," Benton said. "I'll make sure pretty boy doesn't go anywhere."

"I'll have to lock you in with him," Angelic said.

"That's okay," Benton replied. He grinned. "You're one smart cookie, you know that?" he continued. "Locking him up and putting the leg bracelets on him. He ain't going nowhere."

"No, he isn't," agreed Angelic, smiling. "Just stay away from him while I'm gone," she ordered. "He's mine."

"I won't lay a finger on him," Benton promised.

After Angelic had left, Benton looked over at Joe and snickered. "I bet your old man is having fun trying to find you," he said.

"My 'old man' is on vacation," Joe informed him. "He doesn't even know I'm missing. Look, you have to watch out for Angelic," he continued.

"Whoa, hold up," Benton demanded, looking at Joe in surprise. "You're warning me? About her?" He burst out laughing. "Kid, it should be the other way around."

"She's already killed one person that I know of and she has tried to kill more," Joe said seriously. "And she doesn't like you."

"Oh yeah, what makes you think that?" Benton asked curiously.

"She's obsessed with me," Joe told him, blushing as Benton broke out laughing again. "Why do you think she has me in here? Dressed like this?" he demanded. "Why is she giving me things like a workout station and fixing me snacks on request?"

"Look kid, whatever she wants to do with you is her business. I won't say a word. But you sure do look funny dressed like a girl," he added, snickering.

"It's a kilt," Joe said stiffly, trying without much success to maintain some of his dignity.

"Kilt smilt. If it looks like a skirt, it's a skirt. I always knew you were a sissy," he added with a sneer as Angelic returned with a tray.

After Angelic opened the cage and gave Joe his snack, Angelic watched as Benton gathered the cardboard and other items and toted them from the basement. She reached up and rubbed Joe's cheek affectionately then left without saying a word, locking Joe back in.

Upstairs, Benton laid the trash down on the living room floor. "Okay, Sweets," he said. "I'll take my other seven grand now."

"Of course," she agreed, walking over to the desk against the far wall. She opened a drawer and reached inside. But instead of taking out any cash, she pulled out a revolver and aimed it at Benton's chest. "You shouldn't have made Joe feel bad," she said, pulling the trigger.

Joe dropped the cracker he held in his hand as a gunshot sounded throughout the house. Feeling sick, he set the tray down and went into the bathroom. He knew without even asking that Angelic had just killed Benton and he also knew it was becuase of him.

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"Sullivan's," Chet read the name above the door of the establishment. "Do you really think they can help us find Angelic?"

"It's a long shot," Frank replied, his mouth set in a grim line. "But right now, it's all we have."

He, Chet and Phil entered the building and were greeted by an aging man with gray hair and a gray mustache. He wore a red plaid kilt with a matching scarf covering half of his chest over a white shirt. "And how may I help ye lads this day?" he asked, his green eyes shining bright as he smiled at the three youths.

"Hello, Mr. Sullivan," Phil greeted the man. "We were hoping you could help us. We're looking for a girl and the only lead we have is part of one of your receipts."

"Why are you looking for the lass?" Sullivan queired. He felt his clients' information should be kept confidential, but not only did he know Phil well, he had recognized Frank as one of the Hardy boys who solved mysteries.

"She kidnapped my brother," Frank informed him. "I'm..."

"Frank Hardy. Yes, I know," Sullivan said. "I've read about you and your brother often. I will be glad to help in any way I can," he volunteered.

Frank gave a description of Angelic both as herself and as Jeanine. "You mean this lass actually changed her appearance to get your brother?" he demanded in shock.

"She isn't stable," Chet informed him.

"No, no. She certainly doesn't sound so," agreed Sullivan. "Yes, she has been in. Several times as a matter of fact. She put in a special order which I finished two days ago."

"Has she picked the order up yet?" asked Frank.

"She has," admitted Sullivan. "Less than twenty minutes after I called her."

"You have her number?" Frank asked, excited. Finally, they had a lead they could trace.

"I do," Sullivan said, then motioned for the boys to follow him into the back of the shop. "I keep files on all our special orders." He rummaged through the top drawer of a file cabinet. "Here it is. Angelic Deveraux. She paid by check."

Sullivan handed the check to Frank. "You haven't cashed it yet?"

"I do my banking on Mondyas," Sullivan informed him.

Frank pulled a little notebook from his pocket and copied down the address and phone number on the check. Handing the check back, he thanked the man.

"You think it is going to bounce?" Sullivan asked, his forehead wrinkled. It was a hefty sum and would be a major loss.

"I'm sure it won't," Frank assured him. "She may be a mental case but she is rich."

"Then she isn't crazy. She's eccentric," Sullivan corrected with a small smile.

"Not this time," Frank disagreed.

The boys thanked the man for his help and left the store. "Now where to?" Chet asked.

"The police station," Frank said. "They can get this address checked out quicker than we could and probably get an address to go with the phone number if it is different."

Forty minutes later, the three boys were sitting in the office of Chief Collig waiting for results. "You should try and get hold of your father," Collig told Frank. "He should know about Joe."

"If this doesn't pan out, then I will," Frank promised. He was confidant that at last they had found something tangible to work with.

As soon as Frank finished speaking, there was a knock on the door and Con opened it and entered. He shook his head. "The address is for her attorney. He takes care of all the financial ins and outs of her estate. And the cell number wasn't traceable. It's a Tracfone. Pay as you go."