Taking a Chance Chapter 8

The Mystery Expands

Joe and Nancy spent the next two days going over and rejecting various plans for how to approach James Fleming before they settled on one idea. It was a slim chance at best but the rest seemed to dangerous, impossible or flat out stupid. They wanted to feel James out, to give Frank a chance to tell them whether or not he was deep undercover without blowing his cover if that was the case – or to figure out if Frank had amnesia or something else. Whatever it ended up being, they didn't want Frank harmed in the process. The important thing was to keep him safe.

Nancy ran several searches on her computer that gave them more information on James Fleming. According to her report, he was 22, married a little less than eighteen months to Diana Patrelli and working for a corporation in St. Louis as a trouble-shooter/computer expert. While Nancy worked on the personal angles concerning James Fleming, Joe checked out the Modark Horizons Corporation.

"Sheesh," Joe told Nancy as they neared the end of a busy workday on Sunday evening. "This is convoluted and then some."

"What'd you find?" Nancy looked up from her computer screen. She swiveled the chair in which she sat so she faced Joe a little better.

"Well, Modark Horizons is owned by Regions International – you've heard of them, right? The company that's been doing all of that humanitarian work in Asia after the typhoon? Regions International, however, is a private owned company – it has never gone public and it's owned by six different individuals. Five have equal shares of exactly 10 each. The sixth, however, has a full 50 ownership, making him the owner, more or less, of the whole organization. I suppose the other put up money to help with start-up or something and get 10 of the profits in return for their initial help but I haven't been able to find out much about that."

"What's the guy's name?" Nancy asked curiously as she slid her chair around to look at Joe's monitor.

"Reevers," Joe said. "Jouquin Jorges Reevers."

Nancy made a face at that and frowned. "That name's familiar for some reason."

"Not to me," Joe admitted. "I don't even think he was mentioned in those reports about the help the company sent to Indonesia and the like. And, the other weird thing is that, except for his ownership of the company, I can't find out anything about Jouquin Jorges Reevers at all."

Nancy slid her chair back to her computer and typed in the name, including any alternate spellings that she could figure out but, as had happened with Joe, she found out nothing more he had.

"That's odd," she admitted. "Someone that rich would be in the spotlight quite a bit, whether he wanted it or not. There'd be pictures or reports on him, wouldn't there?"

"I'd think so," Joe agreed. He sighed as he propped his head on a hand and drummed his fingers on the desktop, frowning at his computer. "It doesn't make any sense at all, Nancy. Does this really matter anyway?"

"I don't know," Nancy leaned back and stretched, arching her arms over her head before she turned back to Joe. "Maybe it doesn't. I just can't help but think we should know as much as we can before we go try to find Frank."

Joe looked back at the picture sitting beside his computer on the desk. It was his brother's face, the same smile, and the same silly dimple in one cheek. Joe touched the picture again.

"You know," Joe looked up at Nancy. "I keep thinking if he's really undercover he wouldn't have let his picture be available like it was. I mean, he would know we'd come look eventually if we found out he was alive and if he wanted to stay hidden… no, that's too weird. I'm losing it here, Nan."

"Well," Nancy smiled. "Let's get something to eat, get some sleep and get back to work tomorrow."

"Agreed," Joe shut down his laptop and got up again, walking with Nancy out of the den and down to the kitchen where the Drew's housekeeper, Hannah Gruen, was stirring something in a pot.

"That smells great," Joe said to Hannah.

"Dinner's in fifteen minutes," Hannah said. "You have a few minutes to wash up. Is your case going all right?"

"We're running in circles mostly," Nancy admitted. "But we'll be leaving tomorrow to do some legwork."

Hannah nodded, distracted, as she continued to stir the pot. Joe and Nancy went to wash their hands and then helped to set the table before they settled down into their seats. Hannah served them a hearty, rich, beef stew along with fresh corn muffins from the oven and Joe dug in with gusto.

"This is great, Hannah," he said enthusiastically after a few bites. "I haven't had stew in a long time."

"I remembered it was one of your favorites," Hannah admitted with a little blush to her cheeks. "Enjoy."

Joe's cell phone rang halfway through the meal. He excused himself from the table and walked into the living room to take the call.

"This is Joe Hardy," Joe answered.

"Did you find it helpful?" a low-pitched voice on the other end said.

"What?" Joe asked, confused. "What's helpful?"

"The package!" the voice insisted. "Was it helpful? Do you believe me when I say you don't know everything about your brother's death? Or, rather, is that non-death?"

Joe sighed. "It was sort of helpful," he said. "And very mysterious. And if I find out your playing games with me and my family, I'll hunt you down and bury you."

"Tsk, tsk, Mr. Hardy," the voice chided him. "You don't think I would do something like that? Be gentle and you may receive more help just like what you got. You do want more help, don't you?"

"I want to know who you are!" Joe insisted. "And why you're doing whatever you're doing."

"I'm righting a few wrongs, Joe," the voice was friendlier. "I'm helping the oppressed and downtrodden."

The voice paused but Joe said nothing.

"I owe you and I owe Frank," the voice continued. "I can't tell you who I am – that's not allowed. But I can help you as much as I can.

"My last bit of advice is this – be very careful. The people behind all of this are more powerful than you can possibly believe. If you do the wrong thing or make the wrong move, it will mean the end for both you and Miss Drew. Do you understand?"

"I understand," Joe's mind raced as he considered the possibilities. Who was this man and what were his motives? Writing wrongs and helping the oppressed made him sound like a hero from a comic book story. And while there were several people whom he and Frank had helped, who was this one?"

"Talk to you later."

And then the other man was gone, leaving Joe holding a dead phone. Joe hit a button on his phone and walked back into the dining room. He told Nancy about the call and what was said and Nancy looked no less mystified.

"Maybe it's someone who really can't identify himself," Nancy said. "But we already knew to be careful, didn't we?"

Joe nodded. "Definitely."

A ringing doorbell interrupted them again and Joe looked over at Nancy and Hannah. "Are you expecting anyone? George or Bess maybe?"

Nancy shook her head. "They're out of town," she said.

Joe got up and cautiously approached the door. He opened it carefully and suddenly his voice rang out.

"What are you doing here?"