Killing Joe
Chapter 4
Someone was shaking him and his head hurt something fierce – that was all Joe knew as he slowly regained consciousness. He tried to move his hands to bat the hand away, already forming a sharp retort for Frank, but he couldn't. His hands were bound behind him, and as he opened his eyes, he focused on the unfamiliar face framed by greasy dark hair and piercing brown eyes – Cletus.
"So much for this being a dream," he muttered, closing his eyes for a moment, relieved when the 'hillbilly-wannabe' stopped shaking him.
"Git up," Cletus growled, looking down at him from the opened back door of the truck.
"Why?" Joe demanded as he took stock of his situation. He was lying on his side on the floor in the back of his rental SUV, bound hand and foot. His clothes were still damp but he was no longer as cold as he had been; now he was just uncomfortable and stiff.
"'Cause we want to go shopping," came a gravelly reply.
'Oh yeah,' the blond teen thought sourly, 'can't forget about Norton.'
"Don't let me stop you," Joe grumbled as he opened his eyes again and then gingerly flexed his jaw. 'An ice pack would be nice,' he decided, 'for both my jaw and the back of my head!'
Norton snorted in response. "Geez Cletus, we got ourselves a bona fide funny man!"
Cletus prodded Joe, none too gently, with the shot gun. "We want money."
"What the hell do I look like?" Joe demanded, his blue eyes narrowing angrily, "a flipping Money Tree? Go rob a bank or something!"
"Nah, this way is better," Cletus – obviously the brains of the operation – turned to Norton. "Take his shoes and socks and untie him. I'll sit in back in the back seat with him 'case he gets any funny ideas."
"My shoes and socks?" Joe repeated, wondering what was up, but he was ignored.
"Park in front of the bank machine and I'll get out with him. You keep the engine running," Cletus finished even as Norton was already moving to carry out his instructions.
"Hey!" the blond teen cried out indignantly as he was unshod, "what's the big idea!"
"It's in case you get any smart ideas," Cletus explained, "like trying to run away. This'll slow you down enough for me to get a good shot." His dark brown eyes narrowed hatefully on Joe. "Understand now?"
"Yeah." Joe winced as he sat up, his hands and ankles now untied and beginning to tingle painfully. He wondered how long he'd been out as he glanced through the windows of the truck and saw they were now stopped on a desolate roadway. Not familiar with the area anyway, the Bayport teen had no idea where they were.
Cletus took something out of his pocket – Joe's wallet – and the younger Hardy got a sinking feeling. No wonder they'd taken him, he realized, as he saw his dark-haired abductor open the wallet and fish out a blue bank card. They needed him.
"You're going to empty the account for us," the gun-holding carjacker told him, his face twisted in a crooked smile. 'He has a rather big nose for his face,' Joe almost snickered out loud at the odd thought that crossed his mind, but didn't. Instead he scowled, really not wanting to give these guys his hard-earned money! Christmas was only a season away and he'd been planning on actually buying nice gifts this year instead of the socks he normally gave out!
But he also knew that wasn't such a bad idea either; once his father and Frank realized he was missing, they would immediately check for any activity on his bank account and be able to at least trace him to whatever godforsaken town these guys had targeted. So he sighed and nodded his head. "Whatever. But don't expect much."
"Oh come on," Cletus snorted, "rich kid like you is bound to have a pretty penny in his savings."
"Rich?" Joe snorted, "oh boy do you have the wrong guy!" He frowned as he got a good look at Norton, "Are you wearing my sweater?" And sure enough, Norton was! In fact, Norton was wearing all of Joe's clean clothes – the clothes the blond boy had intended on changing into when he'd been jumped!
"Yeah, hope you don't mind," Norton said, modeling the outfit for his captive, "kinda convenient that we look alike, eh? I can be you for a bit!"
"We look nothing alike," Joe refuted. And he was right, of course.
"You both got blond hair – that's close enough," Cletus said, motioning with the gun for Joe to move into the back seat and put his seatbelt on.
"What, Cletus?" came Norton's indignant reply as he sat down in the driver's seat and then swiveled around to look at his friend, "You saying I'm not pretty like him?" He slued a glance towards Joe.
"I am saying you both got blond hair, that's all," Cletus said with exaggerated patience, and Joe got a feeling that Norton was NOT the brightest bulb in the pack!
"Well, my feelings are hurt," Norton whined as he turned around in the seat and started the truck. "I've always prided myself on being the looks of the operation, and if I ain't got the looks, what have I got? Nothing!"
Joe had to look out the window, as he bit his lip so hard trying not to laugh, it hurt! Neither of these boys could be in any way considered anything more than plain and rather nondescript. 'Well, except for Cletus's big nose', the young sleuth amended, and then sobered as the truck began to move. Did his father know he was missing yet? Because as entertaining as these two hicks were, they were also dangerous, and the seventeen-year-old had no doubts they would kill him in a heartbeat when he'd worn out his usefulness….
Ten minutes later, Cletus, fed up with Norton's continued sulking over his 'prettiness,' exhaled loudly in frustration and snorted, "For the love of God, Norton. You are so blindingly beautiful it hurts to look at you! Now would you just shut up and drive, you're giving me a headache!"
ooooooOOOOOOoooooo
Tom Oakes looked up from a desk load of paperwork as a big mountain of a man filled the office door. He smiled as he recognized his good friend, and town doctor, Hiram Meredith.
"Hey Hiram," the sheriff greeted the other man.
Six-foot-four and of ample girth, the doctor tipped his head in a wordless greeting. The black bag he carried looked comical in his ham-sized hands.
"Patient's in the cell," Oakes said, already standing to lead the way, "little boy's got a sore paw."
"Aww, is that all," the doctor smirked, "hardly worth a visit is it?"
The sheriff snorted. "Oh, this one is a real piece of work. Shoved his younger brother off Sheila Bridge and then came back for coffee, acting like nothing happened."
Hiram shook his head. "What's with the young people today?"
"I dunno," his friend shrugged and then paused as he reached to open the door to the small holding area. "You can ask his father, though, when he gets here a little later."
"You going to let him see the boy tonight?" the doctor asked, sounding a bit surprised.
The sheriff grinned. "Have I ever?"
A smile spread across the big man's face. "Nope, but I thought you might have been going soft in your old age."
Oakes just chuckled as he led the man towards the lone occupant of the Sheila Flats jail.
ooooooOOOOOOoooooo
Frank had almost dozed off when he heard the two men coming down the short hallway. He opened his eyes and glanced at them but gave no other indication of being very interested.
"Doctor's here, son," Sheriff Oakes told him, and the eighteen-year-old hid his shock at seeing the size of the man who dwarfed the lawman. He shook his head and snorted:
"Gland problems, huh?"
The doctor's face darkened and the sheriff just shook his head. "And no manners to boot. I think the wrong brother went over that bridge."
Stifling an almost immediate retort, Frank shrugged and said nonchalantly as Oakes unlocked the cell and let the doctor in, "Find him yet?"
"Nope," the lawman said, equally indifferent, "Don't 'spect we will. That river has a nasty habit of keeping whatever it takes."
A chill ran down Frank's spine but he hastily brushed away the dark thoughts that crowded his mind. 'Joe is all right', he silently insisted.
"If you'll excuse us, Tom," the doctor said, addressing the sheriff, "I'll take a look at this young man's hand and then be on my way. It shouldn't take very long."
"Holler when you're done," the sheriff said, and then fixed the teen with a stern look as he was leaving. "And you be nice to the doctor, son."
After the red-haired man had disappeared back into his office, Dr. Meredith smiled at Frank, "Okay now, let me take a look at your hand."
"Sorry about the gland comment," the teen said after a moment. Although it was part of the tough guy cover Frank was using on Oakes, he still didn't like saying it.
"Ah, that's okay," the doctor said, brushing off the apology.
"You know the sheriff long?" Frank asked after a moment as the man eyed his bruised hand. He was fishing to see if the doctor might be involved in all this.
"Long enough," the big man grunted as he turned around and opened his black bag. "Busted your hand on your brother, I'd assume?"
Frank just nodded.
"That boy musta had a pretty hard jaw," Hiram continued as he brought out some antiseptic spray, sprayed it lightly over the knuckles and then proceeded to wrap them loosely in a white bandage. A definite case of overkill, Frank thought, but he never commented on that.
"Something like that," he just said.
"Well I'm all done," Dr. Meredith said, straightening up and away from the teen.
"Thank you," Frank said, glancing down at the white bandage and then up at the doctor.
The man gave him a small smile as he picked up his black bag. He looked towards the hallway and then back at Frank. "Look kid, just take it easy on the sheriff, okay? Don't give him any trouble and he'll take care of you nicely, got it?"
"What do you mean 'he'll take care of me nicely'?" Frank asked warily.
"I mean," the doctor said, leaning over and lowering his voice, "if you want this all to go away, he's the man who can make that happen." And then moving away from Frank, the doctor yelled, "TOM! I'm done in here!"
The sheriff immediately returned and let his friend out. Frank watched them leave, a thoughtful look on his face. So the doctor did know what his friend was doing…
Shaking his head at how blatantly corrupt this place was, the teen lay back down on the bunk and let out a weary sigh. He'd had enough of it here now.
'At least Joe has some magazines to read,' he thought, thinking of how well they'd stocked the small shack, 'and snacks.' Smiling, he amended, 'well he would have had snacks, but I'm sure they were the first thing to go when he got there!'
Resigned to a long bout of waiting, Frank closed his eyes. 'I shoulda just let Joe kill me after all…it would have saved me from being bored to death!'
He wondered for a few moments about what his brother was doing at this exact moment and then gave up, deciding that whatever it was, it would certainly be more fun than he was having right now!
