Frank released the arm, grinning sheepishly as he turned to see Chet glaring at him. "Geez!" Chet complained. "A fellow comes to check on a friend and he nearly gets his arm ripped out of its socket."
"Sorry, Chet," Frank apologized. "I wasn't expecting you."
"Your mom let me in as she was leaving," Chet explained.
Frank knelt to pick up the papers he had dropped and Chet bent down to help. "Those the files?" Joe asked from the bed.
"Some of them," Frank answered. "I looked at the others but they have all been working for Demar for at least five years."
"It could still be one of them," Joe pointed out.
"True, but I don't want to waste all the ink in my printer," Frank said. "If none of these pan out, we'll go over the other files later," he said. "I'll copy everything on the disk."
"That will eat up your memory," Chet warned him.
"I have to return the disk," Frank informed him. "And I can delete the info after the case is over."
"Tell me about the case," Chet urged. "Iola called to let me know Joe was all right but she didn't know much about what you were into. Or, at least if you told her, she didn't have time to fill me in."
"Have a seat," Frank told his pal. Seventeen and stocky, Chet had a reputation for the biggest appetite on Bayport. Chet's brown eyes gazed at Joe's dessert hungrily as he sat down.
"Forget it!" Joe told him, shaking his head empathetically. "They're so afraid we'll gain weight, they won't let us eat at work."
Chet looked contrite. "Okay, give," he ordered, looking at Frank.
Frank told Chet about the sabotage and the missing models. "So you set Joe up as bait," Chet said when Frank had finished.
Frank winced, but nodded. "Kenny has already approached Joe with an offer that Demar would not appreciate."
"You want me to let Kenny think I might tell Demar?" Joe asked.
"That's a good idea," Frank approved. "But make sure I'm around when you do. I don't want you disappearing."
"Can I help?" Chet asked.
Frank glanced at Joe. Joe's eyes were thoughtful for a bit then they widened as inspiration struck. "How about a security guard?" he suggested. "With all that's been going on, no one would think it odd if Demar hired one more."
"Or even two," Frank added, turning to look at Chet. "You think Biff might want to help out too?"
"Two?" Joe asked. "That's really not necessary."
Frank refused to look at Joe but Chet could see the guilty look in his eyes and grinned. Frank wanted extra protection for Joe but didn't want Joe to know. "Actually, it is," Chet said, coming to Frank's aid. "One in the daytime and one at night."
"Let's see what you've got," Joe said, setting his tray aside and starting to get up.
"Stay put," snapped Frank, frowning at Joe. "If you want to go to work tomorrow, you're forbidden to get out of that bed until then."
"What if I have to go to the bathroom?" Joe asked.
"That's the only exception," Frank replied sternly.
"What if someone breaks in?" Joe demanded, crossing his arms and leaning back.
"Fine, but nothing else," Frank answered through gritted teeth.
"So if the house catches on fire I'm just supposed to lay here and..." Joe began, his eyes twinkling merrily.
"Joseph!" Frank growled, not seeing the teasing glint.
"Easy, Dad," Joe kidded, caving in. "I'll stay put. But can I please see their files?" he begged, holding out his hand.
Frank let out a sigh. He should have known Joe was teasing him. Chet laughed at the two, wishing he had a brother to kid around with. A sister just wasn't the same. Frank handed Joe and Chet some of the papers he held.
"Daniel Donaldson," Joe read aloud the name at the top of the sheet. "He's been modeling for almost five years but this is his first time modeling in the states. His name was Double D in Europe where he had several contracts until..." Joe broke off, his brow furrowing.
"Until?" Chet nudged him.
"Until his last contract was canceled almost nine months ago," Joe finished. "This is his first job since."
"Does it say why his contract was canceled?" Frank asked.
"No," Joe answered. "But it gives his permanent address as Gloucester."
"Hmm, Jeff Benatar was from there too," Frank recalled, looking through the papers in his hand and pulling his bio out. "And his last contract was canceled nine months ago."
"Is this his first job since?" Chet asked, looking at him.
Frank shook his head. "He actually had two more jobs in the mean time. One for the Simpson Department Store and one for DeGenea." The boys knew DeGenea was a line of cologne for men.
"So Danny knew one of the missing models before he started on this job," Chet said.
"He never mentioned it," Joe said.
"To you anyway," Frank said. "He obviously doesn't like you or he wouldn't have been asking questions about you."
"This Winfield guy is really something," Chet spoke up. "He's won several awards for his work."
"He live in Gloucester too?" Joe asked, quirking an eyebrow.
"Nope," Chet said. "He's from LA."
Before they could go over the other files Frank had printed up, the telephone rang. Frank went into the hall to answer it.
"Hello?" Frank said.
"This is Con Riley," Con's voice came through. "Frank?"
"Yeah," he acknowledged.
"You and Joe might want to meet me at the morgue," Con said.
"Why?"
"You're working on a case at Demar's Studio, right?"
"Right," Frank replied, his stomach getting a sinking feeling. Had more sabotage occurred in the short time they had been home?
"One of the missing models turned up," Con informed him. "Dead."
"But why do you want us at the morgue?" Frank asked, mystified. People had turned up dead that they were looking for before but they had never been asked to go to the morgue.
"I'm sorry," Con said. "You're going to have to see this for yourself. He's been, well...let's just say he doesn't look like he did before he was reported missing."