J.M.J.

Chapter III

Saturday, April 24

There was a little murmur and ruffle of indignation and confusion as the door slammed in the Bayporters' faces. Joe immediately began pounding on the door again.

"Mrs. Ferris!" he called. "I don't know who you've mixed us up with, but we're not here to hurt anybody!"

It was no use. The door wasn't opened again nor was there any response from inside.

"Well, that was rude," Tony commented. "What do we do now? We can't break her door or anything."

"No, of course not," Frank agreed. "Maybe we could get a police officer to come back with us. She might trust us that way."

"It's probably the only way," Phil agreed, "but do you think we could get a police officer to help with something like this?"

Frank shrugged. "We can try. We don't have anything to lose."

They piled back into Joe's car and he drove down to the police station that they had spotted earlier. There was something about the lobby that reminded Frank right away of the Hardys' living room at home. Maybe it was the incongruence of the clean, swept floor and the chairs in the lobby that were mostly arranged with the two chairs that were cock-eyed and the coffee stain on the wall and the pamphlets that were all mixed up on the front desk itself. It was like someone was working hard to keep it tidy and respectable but somebody else didn't care, much the same as Frank's mother and Aunt Gertrude tried to keep the Hardy house in order, only to find it a hopeless task with Joe around.

The officer at the desk was in uniform, but he had the top button undone and his uniform was a little ruffled. He was also a bit on the pudgy side, but far from the stereotypical fat policeman. He was currently busy trying to sort the pamphlets out, but the stacks he was putting them in weren't much more orderly than they had been before.

There was also a civilian woman at the desk, or so the Bayporters guessed her to be. She was wearing business attire with a short jacket, knee-length skirt, and heels. She was talking to the officer, but he didn't seem to be paying all his attention to her, since he was continuing to rearrange the pamphlets. Whatever they were talking about, the Bayporters didn't hear, since the moment they opened the door, both dropped their conversation and looked up.

"Can I help you kids?" the officer asked.

"Maybe," Frank replied. "We've got a kind of unusual thing to ask. My name's Frank Hardy and this is…"

"Oh. Hardy," the officer interrupted him. "I didn't realize you were coming today. The chief must not have, either, since he's not here. Lieutenant Durant's around, though. He'll talk to you, I'm sure."

"Um, there's some kind of mistake…" Frank started to say, but the officer immediately made a call over an intercom for Lieutenant Durant to come to the front desk.

"He'll be right here," the officer explained.

The woman gave the teenagers a knowing look. "Frank Hardy, huh? You're one of those teenage detectives from Bayport, aren't you?"

"Well…" Frank started, unsure what to say since he had no idea who this woman was.

"Sure he is," Joe spoke up. "Not just him, either. I'm his brother, Joe."

"Oh, excellent." The woman glanced at the officer. "So these are the ones."

The officer cleared his throat. "I wouldn't…I mean, no comment."

The woman laughed and then turned on Joe. "Do you have a suspect yet?"

"Well, sort of. We know exactly who we're looking for, anyway…" Joe began, but Frank elbowed him in the ribs.

"A suspect for what?" Frank asked. "Who says we're here on a case?"

"It's a reasonable deduction, don't you think?" the woman replied. "You're a bit young to be taking on a case this big, aren't you?"

Joe scoffed. "Age doesn't make you a good detective. Experience does, and we've got plenty of experience in cases like…"

"Are you a reporter?" Frank broke in.

"That's right," the woman confirmed. "Kelly Alston of the Southport Daily Chronicle, only a story like this might get a little bigger."

"A story like what?" Tony spoke up.

"A story like the Southport Police Department turning over the investigation of such a serious crime to a bunch of teenagers. What's your name? This is your chance to see it in the national news."

"I don't get why this is such a big deal," Tony said.

Frank held up a hand to quiet all his friends. "Look, Ms. Alston, I don't know what you're talking about, but it's clearly a mix-up of some kind."

Just then, a man in his mid-thirties came into the room. He was wearing plain clothes, but his bearing and manner were more in line with a police officer than the uniformed one at the desk. He seemed to take in the whole scene at a glance, which settled finally on Kelly Alston.

"Are you here on business?" he asked her.

Kelly gave him a smirk. "Yeah, but I think I just wrapped it up. You're gonna love the morning edition of the Chronicle." With that, she flounced out the front door of the station.

"Uh, lieutenant," the desk officer said, "these kids here say their name's Hardy."

The newcomer, presumably the Lieutenant Durant that the other officer had called, wheeled around to look at them. He had a good poker-face, though, and he quickly covered up his surprise. "I'm Lieutenant Durant. Can I help you kids?"

"Maybe," Frank said. He was feeling more confused by the moment the longer this went on. "My name's Frank Hardy, and this is my brother, Joe. These are our friends: Callie Shaw, Tony Prito, and Phil Cohen. We're from Bayport, but we drove up here today to try to locate somebody."

"Hold on," Lieutenant Durant said. "You're from Bayport? Are you Fenton Hardy's kids, by any chance?"

"Yeah," Frank confirmed.

"Did he send you up here? I've got to say, that's a weird way to conduct an investigation."

Frank shook his head. "There's some kind of communication gap going on here."

"I'll say," Tony muttered under his breath.

"Well, then, let's try to clear it up," Durant said. "Let's head down to my office in case anyone else walks in."
He led the way to a small office that would have felt cramped even with fewer people in it. Tony, Phil, and Callie diplomatically decided to wait in the hall and let Frank and Joe sort out what was going on.

"Okay," Durant said, sitting down. "Here's our side of this. Just yesterday, our chief of police here in Southport contacted your father to see about retaining him on an on-going investigation. Is that what you're here about?"

"No," Frank said. "I wonder why Dad didn't say anything about it."

"That must be what he was being so hinky about yesterday," Joe commented. When both Frank and Durant gave him questioning looks, he went on, "When I told Dad we were heading up here yesterday, he was all like 'Southport? You sure about that? That's a really dangerous place, and I guess it's okay, but go straight there and straight back and don't get mixed up in any other cases.' I guess he doesn't want us involved in whatever case you want him to help out on. Speaking of which, what kind of case is it?"

Durant let out a long breath. "I'd rather not discuss it at this time. Still…" He pressed an intercom. "Ewing, would you mind coming in here?"

A moment later, the officer from the front desk came in the office. "Yeah, lieutenant?"

"'Yes, sir' will do just fine," Durant told him.

Officer Ewing suddenly looked a great deal more nervous. "Uh, yes, sir. Is something wrong?"

"What was Kelly Alston doing here?"

"She was fishing for a story on the serial killer, but I didn't give her anything. I did just what you said and didn't say more than 'Uh-huh'. She did find out somehow—not from me—that the chief had called in help on that one."

Durant nodded slowly. "Fantastic. This is absolutely excellent." He tapped his fingertips together with an expression that indicated that this was far from fantastic or absolutely excellent. "Well, can't do anything about that now. Get back to work, Ewing. And button your shirt."

As the officer hurried out of the room, Frank and Joe cast questioning looks at Durant.

"Serial killer?" Joe said. "Is that the case you called in Dad about?"

"Yep." Durant drew out the word. "So, it looks like I've got some PR fires to put out. If you're not here about that case, what are you here about?"

Frank explained the situation with Angelo and Susan Ferris and how they were hoping to get some assistance in having Susan talk to them.

"Although it looks like you've got a lot on your mind already," he finished. "If you can't help us…"

"Oh, I think I can," Durant said. "I don't know about sending an officer out there, unless this Angelo kid is in some kind of legal trouble, which is probably the case if he's hanging around David Ferris."

"He's not exactly a kid," Joe pointed out. "He's twenty-three."

Durant bit back a grin. "Well, since he's as old as all that…Seriously, though, he is a little old to be hanging around the Ferris kid. David's only sixteen. He's been in more than enough trouble for that age, though. Everything from purse-snatching to joyriding. I think he might peddle drugs, too, but I'm not sure. You say this Angelo is probably a trouble-maker? He might be getting David into even worse trouble. I'll give Mrs. Ferris a call and see if I can convince her to talk to you."

He picked up his phone and, after looking up the number, dialed it. A few moments later, he said, "Hello, Mrs. Ferris. This is Lieutenant Durant. … No, David's not under arrest. … This is about those kids who stopped in to pay you a call this morning. They're here at the police station. … No, they're all right. They just want to talk to David about one of his friends. They're trying to locate him. … Mrs. Ferris, I…Wait…Don't…" An annoyed expression crossed his face and he hung up the phone. "She hung up on me," he explained. "She says she doesn't want to talk about David and that he's not home anyway."

"That doesn't get us anywhere," Frank commented.

"Yeah," Joe agreed. "We'll have to see what we can come up with on this instead. So, about that serial killer…"

Durant raised an eyebrow. "No, I'm not giving you any more information about that. No offense, but you'd most likely be in the way. Besides, from the sounds of it, your father doesn't want you involved. Why not take his advice and stay focused on the case you have? It looks like I can't help you with David, after all—I'm going to send someone out to the Ferris house to try to find out what's going on—but I can give you the names of some of his other friends. One of them might know this Angelo."

"That could be a help," Frank agreed.

"But…" Joe started to protest, but after a glare from Frank, he stopped himself.

Durant tapped his finger on his desk a couple of times. "The first one you should look into is a kid named Marshall Given. He must be around twenty or so, but he's been hanging around with David Ferris for the last six months or so. He doesn't seem like such a bad kid, really. He has a job and a place of his own. Of any of David's friends, he'd probably be the most likely to talk."

He gave them Marshall Given's address, as well as the names and addresses of several other of David's friends, but Frank and Joe already knew that they would be taking his advice and paying a visit to Marshall first.

Joe paused before he climbed into the driver's seat of his car. "It almost makes you wonder how a guy like that got to be a detective."

"What does?" Frank asked.

"He must have changed his mind three times in there about what he was going to tell us and what he was going to do," Joe pointed out. "You'd think a detective would do a little less talking out loud."

"Yeah," Frank agreed. "Well, at least, he helped us out. Even if Susan Ferris won't talk to us or let us talk to David, this Marshall guy might be able to give us some answers."

"I hope so," Callie commented, glancing around at the street. It all seemed so run-down and tired, like it had worn itself out trying to solve its problems. "I don't think I want to stay here any longer than I have to."

"You're lucky," Tony pointed out. "You can leave this rat-trap if you want to."

"It's the weekend," Phil reminded him. "You could, too, if you wanted to."

A cloud passed over Tony's face. "Yeah, I guess so."

None of them had to think very hard to guess what the trouble was. The boys probably would have let it be, considering it was too sore a subject for teasing and none of them wanted to get bogged down in a serious conversation right at the moment. But Callie didn't have any such inhibitions.

"Are things still that bad with Lisa?" she asked.

Tony bit his lip. Lisa was his younger sister. In the case a year and a half ago when Iola had been injured, Lisa had gotten mixed up with a cult that turned out to be recruiting kids to be part of a criminal organization called Black Rose. The details on exactly what Black Rose was or what they did were still fuzzy, but it was clear to all involved that they were up to no good. Something had changed in Lisa over the whole thing. Even though she didn't pretend that the cult—which had called itself School of Thought—had been a good thing, she still scarcely talked to the Hardys or their friends because of the whole incident, and that included Tony. In fact, she seemed to somehow have a particular grudge against him.

"Yeah," he said in response to Callie's question. "At any rate, it's almost more pleasant hanging around here than dealing with Lisa."

Callie gave him a sympathetic smile. "That's pretty bad."

After that, they headed toward the address that Lieutenant Durant had given them for Marshall Given. It was an apartment duplex and even more run-down than most of the rest of the town. The sports car sitting in front of it was very out-of-place, and Frank and Joe both instinctively noted the license number as they went to the door.

"Cross your fingers that Marshall is home and will talk to us," Frank said as he pressed the doorbell.

Instantly, they heard footsteps come running toward the door and then it was flung open by a young woman. She couldn't have been more than a year or two older than any of the Bayporters and she would have been pretty except for the ugly bruise on her cheek and around her eye. It was also clear that she had been crying.

"Thank God you're here!" she said. "He's going to kill him!"

There was no time to even ask for an explanation before there was a loud crash and a groan from somewhere farther in the house. The girl gasped and whirled around. The Bayporters didn't waste any time in following her. She made straight for a door directly opposite the front door and flung it open. Frank and Joe, with Tony and Phil right behind them, crowded into the door and saw a young man lying on the floor with a deep, bleeding wound in his head. They rushed straight toward him.

Callie wasn't far behind them either, but she couldn't get much past the door into the other room because of the crowd. She barely had time to take in the scene before someone grabbed her, pressing a knife against her neck. She let out an involuntary scream, which caused the others to all whirl around and look at her. That was when they realized their fatal mistake.

Someone else was in the room. He was right by the door, so that they had all rushed past him without noticing him. Frank almost started to take a step forward, but then the man pressed the knife even harder against Callie's throat.

"Don't take another step," he warned him, "or the girl dies."

Author's note: Uh-oh. Looks like Callie really did have good reason to be worried about coming to Southport, as several of you mentioned. Speaking of which, thank you all so, so much for your reviews! It's always great to know that others are reading and even enjoying your work, so thank you! I should also apologize for this chapter being a little late, but if I start playing that game, I'll probably be apologizing for just about every chapter. Between extra hours of work and other obligations and it just generally being 2020, I've gone the last two days straight without a chance to sit down and write. At least it gave me two entire days to turn the second half of this chapter over and over in my head so that when I did get to sit down, I knew exactly what needed to happen. I've also got the next chapter pretty well planned out and since it's the weekend coming up, I'm hopeful that I won't keep you (or Callie) dangling on this cliffhanger for too long! God bless!