Frank pulled the van into the garage and killed the motor. He eyed Joe's motorcycle, contemplating taking it out and parking it in the garage but decided to leave it. He grabbed his backpack from behind his seat and headed inside.
"Hi," Laura greeted Frank as he entered through the kitchen. "Dinner will be ready in half an hour."
"Great," he said, kissing her cheek. "Joe gone already?"
"Yes," acknowledged Laura. "He left around four-thirty. Tell your dad to wash up and come and set the table on your way through."
"Will do," agreed Frank. "Hi, Dad," he said, going into the living room.
"Hello, Frank," Fenton returned the greeting, lying the evening paper down on the coffee table and standing up. "I heard Joe got his motorcycle back."
"He did," acknowledged Frank. "Thankfully, that is the last of that association."
"I couldn't agree more," concurred Fenton.
"Oh, mom said to wash up and go set the table," Frank told him.
"Me?" Fenton asked, his brown eyes shooting wide in disbelief. "You were just in the kitchen."
"Yeah, but I've got trash duty tonight," Frank reminded his father. "So, since Joe's supposed to set the table and he isn't here..."
"I know, I know," Fenton laughed, holding up his hands in defeat. "One chore each day," he repeated the order his wife had decreed when the boys had gotten old enough to help out around the house.
Frank grinned and ran up the stairs. He dropped his backpack on his bed and sat down at his computer. He had just enough time to check his e-mail and print up the paper he had to turn in the next day.
After dinner Frank took out the trash then came in and helped dry the dishes. Soon, all three Hardys were seated in the living room trying to agree on what program to watch.
"How about that new forensics show?" suggested Frank as the phone rang.
"Hold that thought," Fenton told him, reaching for the phone. "Hardy residence," he acknowledged the caller.
"Fenton, this is Ezra," came the voice of Bayport's tall and graying Chief of Police, Ezra Collig.
"Hello, Ezra," Fenton said, his smile faltering. He heard a hint of anxiety in his friend's voice that bothered him. "Is there something I can help you with?" he inquired.
"Is everyone there?" Ezra asked.
"Except for Joe," Fenton answered, causing Laura and Frank to look over at him in concern. "Why?"
"Was he driving Laura's car by any chance?" Ezra asked instead of answering.
"Yes," Fenton said, starting to feel sick. "Frank had the van. Why?" he asked again more sharply. "What's wrong?"
"We found Laura's car abandoned off Shore Road," Ezra informed Fenton. "There was no sign of its occupant or of a struggle."
"How long has it been there?" Fenton snapped, his brown eyes clouding over with worry.
"We can't be sure," the chief replied. "When did Joe leave and where was he going?"
"Hang on," Fenton said as he put the phone on speaker. "Repeat that, please?" he requested.
Collig did so. "Joe had a date with Camille Lane," Frank told the chief. "He was going to pick her up at five." He gave the chief Camille's address.
"Joe was dating Judge Richard Lane's daughter?" Collig asked in surprise.
"Judge Lane?" inquired Fenton, growing even more concerned. "Isn't he presiding over the Kern case?"
"That's correct," acknowledged Ezra.
"And Piers returned Joe's bike to him today," Fenton said. "Tippoli may believe Joe's on Sorrel's side and was trying to pressure Judge Lane into letting Kern off."
"And snatched Joe to get at Sorrel," Frank put in.
"Or kill him," Laura gasped.