Um… Gee… Please read the warning. It's a serious warning. I'm not sure if the first review was serious or not.

Warning: This story includes as an on-going sub-plot an incestuous homosexual relationship between Frank and Joe Hardy. This chapter contains strong sexual content and suggestive language.

-o-o-o-

Chapter 2: Mr. and Mrs. Quito

"Frank! Dinner's on!"

"Ok! I'll be right there."

The dining area next to the kitchen, at one end of the living room, was large enough to hold a table and four chairs. Joe was just pouring the beer into glasses when Frank walked over carrying a stack of papers.

"I found quite a lot of stuff on Mr. August Quito." Frank waggled the papers. "He has more failed businesses than a dot-com venture capitalist."

"Oh yeah?" Joe took his seat and began serving himself. "What kind of business?"

"All kinds. It's sort of suspicious, if you ask me. Where does he keep getting the money to start another business when the previous one fails?" Frank sat down and sipped his beer. "I mean, look at this." He shuffled the papers for a moment and then shoved a sheet toward Joe. "Three years ago he started a dry cleaning business. It failed after six months. Less than a month later, he starts a sandwich shop and it fails after two months. He went through a ten year span like this."

Joe studied the sheet thoughtfully. "That is weird. Does he have a business right now?"

"Yeah. In fact, his current business is actually successful, by his standards. He's owns a hardware store in River Heights. But he bought the business from the previous owner."

"Where'd he get the money for that?"

"I can't figure that out." Frank flipped through the papers. "As near as I can tell, he didn't have a business for a couple of years before he bought the hardware store. He bought it about the same time he married Estelle Winters."

"Did she have money?"

"No. And her ex, Thomas Winters, was a high school counselor. He had close to nothing when they divorced and she made sure she got all of it."

"So Quito has been able to come up with money pretty much whenever he needs it," Joe said.

"That appears to be the case."

"If you ask me, he's either a crook or he's laundering money for someone."

"Which means he's a crook," Frank concluded.

"Yeah," Joe agreed. "We should go talk to him."

"We'll need a reason."

"Let's use the truth," Joe grinned. "We can tell them we're looking for Nancy. That might shake something up."

"Possibly." Frank held up his fork. "This dinner is very good, by the way. You're a much better cook than I am."

"You bet I am!" Joe winked at him. "You can do the dishes."

"Sounds fair."

"And I'll warm up the bed."

Frank laughed. "Already planning Round 2?"

"And maybe Round 3, too!"

-o-o-o-

In the morning, Frank called the Quito house. He was just finishing the call when Joe came out of the bathroom still damp from his shower.

"Did you get hold of someone?"

"I talked to the maid," Frank replied. "She said Mr. Quito had already left for work and Mrs. Quito was still in bed. But she said if we show up around 10am, Mrs. Quito should be up." Frank grinned. "I don't think the maid likes her mistress. She said I could show up earlier if I felt like it and she would just wake Mrs. Quito."

Joe frowned. "That doesn't sound like a woman worried about her missing child."

"No it doesn't. Let's go talk to her while her husband's not there. Then we can corner Mr. Quito at work."

"Sounds like a plan. You better hop in the shower. I'll whip something together for breakfast."

"Ok."

The Quito house on the edge of River Heights was large and lavish. A six-foot brick wall with wrought iron decorations on top encompassed three sides of the property, enclosing an extensive garden. The fourth side, facing the street, was closed off by an elaborate wrought iron fence, but the heavy gate at the foot of the driveway stood open. Frank drove up to the house and stopped in the circular driveway, which contained a small fountain at the center.

"Good lord!" Joe exclaimed. "I feel like I just stepped into Beverly Hills."

"It does seem a little elaborate for the neighborhood, doesn't it?"

"Just a little."

They walked up to the front door and rang the bell. The maid who answered the door looked Hispanic, but her accent was slight.

"May I help you?"

"Hi, my name is Frank Hardy and this is my brother Joe. I called earlier about speaking to Mrs. Quito."

"Oh yes, sir. I answered the phone." There was a hint of mischievousness in the maid's smile. "Please come in. I just took Mrs. Quito her coffee. I'll tell her you're here." The maid held the door open and stepped aside so they could enter. "Please go through there into the parlor." She pointed to a wide arched opening on their left.

"Thank you."

The maid closed the door and immediately started up the wide curving stairs that rose from the back of the entry hall. Joe stopped and looked up at the high vaulted ceiling, from which a large crystal chandelier hung.

"That thing must be a bitch to dust."

Frank laughed. "I bet it is." He led the way into the parlor. "This is pretty fancy for River Heights."

"It seems a lot to afford on the profits from a single hardware store, too. Are you sure that's the only business he's got going right now?"

"The only legitimate one." Frank met Joe's eyes and lifted an eyebrow. "But right now, I'd give even money that he's got something dirty on the side."

Joe nodded in agreement.

They waited nearly fifteen minutes before Mrs. Estelle Quito made her appearance. She was clearly enjoying the roll of the wealthy lady. She floated into the room in a chiffon robe with her long blond hair swept up into an artful spill of curls on the top of her head. She held out a perfectly manicured hand.

"Good morning, I don't believe I've made you're acquaintance." Her manner of speech sounded affected.

Frank clasped her hand briefly. "We haven't met, Mrs. Quito. We're sorry to bother you so early, but we're hoping you'll be able to help us with something."

Estelle put a hand to her chest. "Me? How can I be of assistance to you?"

"Mrs. Quito, I understand your daughter is missing and you hired Nancy Drew to find her."

"Have you been speaking to the police?" For a moment, Estelle dropped her affected manner.

"No, ma'am. I'm afraid we know nothing about your daughter's case," Frank lied smoothly. "We're friends of Nancy. I'm afraid Nancy is now missing and we were hoping something you might have told her would give us a clue where to look for her."

"Miss Drew is missing?" Estelle stumbled to a chair and collapsed into it. "No wonder I haven't heard from her! The last thing she told me was that she was planning to speak to my ex-husband. I know he's the one who has my daughter. There's no where else she would go." Estelle's voice became harsh and accusing.

"Have you and your ex-husband fought about your daughter recently?"

"I hardly ever speak to Thomas. But Jolene told me he wanted to take her to Europe this summer. I refused, of course. Jolene attends a year-round school."

"So you think perhaps they went anyway."

"Yes, I do! And once he has her out of the country, I know he won't bring her back. All this time he's pretended not to care about his visitation rights! I know he's been planning this. It's just the sneaky sort of thing he would do!"

Joe and Frank exchanged a quick look.

"Did Nancy say anything else? Anything you discussed with her might be helpful."

"No, there was nothing else." Estelle spoke quickly and Frank watched her with narrowed eyes. "We just talked about Thomas and Jolene."

"Ok. I guess we'll have to work from that. Thank you for taking the time to speak with us, Mrs. Quito."

"Are you detectives too, Mr. Hardy?"

"No, just friends of Nancy," Frank lied again. "We don't know that her disappearance has anything to do with your case; we're just following up on everything she's been doing recently. Thanks again for your time."

"You're welcome, Mr. Hardy." She offered her hand again and Frank took it. "Why don't you give me your number? If I think of anything, I'll call you." She fixed her large blue eyes on Frank's face and smiled coyly.

"Uh, sure." Frank told her the number and they retreated to the front door.

Outside, Joe lifted an eyebrow at Frank. "I think she was flirting with you just then."

"I think so too." Frank frowned. "What kind of woman whose child is missing flirts with a stranger in the parlor of the house she shares with her second husband?"

"A very self-centered one. If she was my mother, I think I'd run away too."

"Yeah. The police may have a point." Frank started the car. "Let's go talk to August Quito. I'm starting to get a really bad feeling about this."

"Me too."

-o-o-o-

River Heights Hardware was a thriving business. The big parking lot out front was nearly filled and dozens of patrons went about their shopping inside. Frank and Joe approached one of the clerks as soon as they entered.

"Is the owner of the store, Mr. Quito, available?"

"I think he's in his office. It's in the back." The clerk pointed. "Go through the swinging doors at the end of Aisle 7. His office is on the right side, marked 'Private'."

"Thanks."

The office had a frosted glass pane set in it with the word 'Private' painted on it in large white letters. There was a light on inside and they could hear someone talking, although the words could not be distinguished. Frank knocked on the door.

"One minute!" someone called from inside. They waited and heard the conversation inside the room end. "Come in!"

Frank opened the door. "Mr. Quito?"

"That's me." August Quito stood up behind his cluttered desk. He was a good-looking man with wavy brown hair neatly trimmed above his ears and a clean-shaven face. He was the same height as Frank, but a little heavier in build. He looked like he worked out. He was dressed casually in a polo shirt and slacks. "What can I do for you?"

They stepped into the room and closed the door. "My name is Frank Hardy, Mr. Quito. This is my brother Joe. We're friends of Nancy Drew. We understand she was helping to look for your wife's missing daughter."

"That's right. Do you know something about that?" August regarded them with a faintly suspicious expression.

"Not about your stepdaughter. It's about Nancy. She's missing."

"Really?" August sank down in his chair with a surprised look on his face. "Since when? We just talked to her a few days ago."

"She's been missing for a few days."

"Wow! Were we the last ones to speak to her?" August leaned forward and folded his arms on his desk. "I had no idea."

"We're not sure. We're just trying to retrace her steps to see if something she was involved with might have something to do with her disappearance."

"Well, I'll certainly help in any way I can. Nancy seemed so professional. She certainly helped put my wife's mind at ease." August rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I think she was planning to get in touch with my wife's ex-husband." Then he shrugged apologetically. "That's really all I can remember right now. You might try asking my wife. She may remember more."

"Thanks, Mr. Quito. We'll do that. We appreciate any help we can get."

"I hope you find her. I'd feel terrible if something happened to her because she was helping us." August's eyes slid to Joe and he looked the young man up and down with a faintly lustful smile. "Forgive me for asking, but have you ever been a model, or maybe considered a modeling career? You have the looks for it: slender and beautiful. Your type often appeals to both men and women." He licked his lips quickly.

"No," Joe replied shortly. "Modeling doesn't interest me."

"Too bad. I have connections. I could probably get you in."

"Thanks anyway."

"Oh well." His eyes moved reluctantly back to Frank. "Was there anything else?"

"No. But if we think of anything, can we call you?"

"Sure." August's eyes went back to Joe. "Call me anytime."

Outside the office, Joe shuddered. "That man gives me the creeps!"

"I know what you mean." Frank frowned. "No wonder Nancy didn't trust this couple. My instincts are totally twigged. Something's going on here and I don't like it."

"We need to find Thomas Winters. We need to find out if Nancy talked to him." Joe glanced back toward the office. "Do you think he knows more about Nancy than he's saying?"

"I'm not sure. Let's go back to the apartment. I want to do some more research. We can also try to find out if Thomas Winters is back in the country."

"Ok." As he climbed into the car, Joe shuddered again. "What is it about me that makes people want to get into my pants? Because I'd swear that's what he was thinking."

Frank smiled at him. "He said it. You've got that kind of look."

"Maybe I should gain some weight."

"I don't think it would help."

"Damn!"

"Would it make you feel better if I said I like the way you look?"

Joe chuckled. "I suppose that's a good thing since you're the one person I do want trying to get into my pants." Joe pursed his lips. "But now I'm wondering if August Quito is bisexual."

"Or just plain homosexual and he married Estelle to hide it. She did come on to me."

"True. But that would rule out the possibility of child abuse being the reason why Jolene ran away."

"If she did run away."

"Right."

Frank sighed. "We've been looking into this case for less than a day and it's already getting all twisted up. I'm really starting to worry about Nancy."

Joe nodded. "So am I."

-o-o-o-

Back at the apartment, Joe immediately headed for the kitchen. "I'm going to make some sandwiches. You want a beer?"

"Yeah, thanks." Frank settled in front of the computer in the corner of the living room. "I'm going to Google August Quito again. There has to be something I missed the first time."

"Why don't you Google some of his failed businesses? Maybe a name will pop out."

"You mean like a partner or something?"

"Yeah."

"Good idea. I'll try that."

Frank fell silent as he tapped away at the computer. Joe joined him a short while later with a plate of sandwiches and two beers.

"You never did mention how you managed to buy beer. Last time I checked, twenty is still underage for buying beer in this country."

Frank laughed. "I have connections. A few months ago, one of Dad's new group buddies succumbed to temptation and bought beer. He felt guilty about it though and asked Dad to get rid of it for him. I took it off Dad's hands and told him he should tell his buddy to just bring it to me if it happens again and I'll dispose of it for him. Fortunately for us, he's got no will power, so he buys the beer every week and just brings it to me. Apparently, it makes him feel better."

"He doesn't drink it?"

"No, he just buys it."

"That's weird."

"You remember what Dad was like when he first went on the wagon."

"That's true. He developed a few odd quirks."

"Yeah, just a few," Frank chuckled. "Hey, this is interesting." He pointed at the monitor. "That's the third time I've seen this name: Walter Surrey."

"Who is he?"

"I don't know. Let's see what Google says." Frank typed in the name. "Whoa! Look at that!" He sat back as the screen filled up with hits.

"Half of those references are indictments!" Joe exclaimed.

"More than half." Frank reached for the mouse. "Let's see what we've got."

After a half-hour of reading, Frank sat back and turned to Joe. "Walter Surrey has got to be involved in organized crime. Nobody gets indicted that many times and never gets convicted of anything."

"Damn right!" Joe agreed. "And he and August Quito go way back. But how come Quito has never been indicted for anything? He must have been laundering money for Surrey with all those failed businesses."

Frank nodded. "I agree. But somehow, he has always managed to keep his nose clean."

"Maybe he has something on Surrey."

"That's an interesting thought." Frank stared at the monitor for a moment. "I need to think about this for awhile. I need to do a little mental digesting."

Joe grinned. "Let's go to bed. You do your best thinking there."

"So you keep telling me." Frank put the computer in standby and followed Joe into the bedroom. "What if," Frank began as he undressed, "Walter Surrey is skimming money and hiding it by supposedly investing in these 'legitimate' businesses that subsequently fail? He could hide a lot of money by juggling the books and then take a huge tax write-off when the business goes belly-up."

"Skimming money from whom, though? The mob? That's pretty dangerous." Joe crawled naked onto the bed on his hands and knees and looked over his shoulder at Frank. "This has been going on for at least twenty years. It's hard to believe they could get away with it for that long."

"Yeah." Frank retrieved the lubricant from the nightstand and got behind Joe. "Normally, one launders money earned illegally to make it look legal, but what if they're doing just the opposite? What if they're siphoning money out of these legitimate businesses and using it for illicit purposes?" He began applying the lubricant slowly and Joe let out a soft moan. "It's not uncommon for a new business to fail. If there aren't a lot of outside investors wondering what happened to their money, no one is going to look that closely at the books. And if the few investors they have are more interested in the tax write-off than the profits, no one's going to say a thing."

"That makes sense. But then what are they doing with the money?"

"I have no idea."

"Why don't you think with your dick for a while? Maybe it will come to you."

"You just want to get fucked."

"Living alone with you like this is turning me on."

"I can't argue with that. I've had a hard-on since you first walked in the door yesterday." He grasped Joe by the hips and rammed himself in with a firm thrust. "You always feel so good."

With a deep groan, Joe dropped onto his elbows and rested his forehead on one arm. "You think I feel good? You should feel it from my end. The harder your cock is, the harder you get me and I'm really hard right now. Ah!"

"Don't come too soon!" Frank groaned. "I'm ready for a nice long fuck."

"Ohh!" Joe gasped and his body shuddered. "Sorry! I couldn't wait. But keep going. I've got another one building up."

"You youngsters!" Frank gasped. "You never hold on long enough to savor the arousal."

"Get me off again and I'll be happy to savor the third one!" Joe grunted. "Just keep fucking!"

"You're gonna owe me two more after dinner."

"Always happy to pay my debts, big brother."