Chapter 4

Fenton Hardy looked once again at the address on the slip of paper in his hand. It was an address in Southport. He guided his sedan around the corner and began looking intently at the numbers on the houses. He braked lightly when he spotted the number he wanted. He went up and knocked on the door but received no answer. He got back into his car and parked across the street. It was getting dark. He settled himself comfortably in his seat and waited.

***

It was around ten when he spotted a girl walking swiftly down the street with her head down. Her movements indicated that she was upset.

Fenton could not see anyone else around and there had been no movement in the house since he got there.

He looked up and down the street again before getting out of his car and crossing the street.

As he approached her, Izzie looked up.

"Izzie Sandel?"

"Yeah, what do you want?" the girl demanded, looking at the unfamiliar man standing in front of her. She looked up and down the street and realized that they were the only people out."

"My name is Fenton Hardy. I'm a private investigator. Your parents are very worried about you."

"Yeah right," the girl said bitterly. "They don't care about me."

"Oh, I think they do. Where's Dyllan?"

"He's…how do you…do my parents know?"

"They do now. They think that he's a bad influence on you."

Yeah, well they don't know him!" The girl's voice was getting higher. "He's a great guy and he loves me and I love him."

"How well do you know Dyllan?"

"Listen, I have to go," Izzie said quickly and hurried past the detective and up the walk to the front door. She began rooting around in her purse, trying to find her keys.

Fenton sauntered up the walk with his hands in his pockets, trying to keep them warm. His breath was visible in the frigid air.

"Did you know that Dyllan has been arrested for possession of drugs, and breaking and entering?" he asked the girl, who was still frantically searching her large purse. She didn't answer.

"Do you think that running off with Dyllan was a smart thing to do?"

"Yes," the girl replied forcefully, whirling about. "We love each other. My parents just don't know him. If they did, they would see that he is alright."

"Your parents have been around much longer than you have and have seen and experienced many things that you have not. All they are doing is trying to protect you. They saw something in Dyllan that they knew would be trouble and tried to warn you. You haven't been living very well out here have you?"

"Its okay," the girl's voice, now quiet replied.

"Not what you expected?"

Izzie didn't answer.

"You saw a side of him you didn't like?"

Izzie still looked at the ground.

"Come on Izzie. Get you things. We're leaving."

Fenton Hardy glanced over at Izzie who was staring out the window of his sedan. She had not spoken once since they had left the dump that she and Dyllan had called home. They had packed all of he things into the back of the detective's car and Izzie had plopped herself in the front passenger seat without a word. Halfway home, she finally spoke.

"Do you have any kids?" she asked in a meek voice.

"Yes, two sons; eighteen and seventeen."

"Do you think my parents will be mad?"

"I think that they'll be happy that you're safe and even happier if you've learned a lesson from this."

Izzie turned back to the window although visibility was limited with the darkness and snow that was just starting to fall. "I thought he loved me. He said so. But I guess he didn't. He didn't care about how I felt or anything."

"Did he hurt you?"

The girl shook her head. "No."

"So you did realize that Dyllan might be trouble?"

"I guess." There was silence for a few minutes, then, "How did you find me?"

"Your digital camera."

"I was looking all over for that!" Izzie exclaimed, pulling her eyes away from the window. "Where did you find it?"

"In between your desk and the wall. It must have fallen off your desk."

"We were so in a rush to leave and I didn't have any more time to look for it. I knew there were some pictures of Dyllan and me on it. I didn't want my parents to find them and realize that I had been going out with him the whole time they thought I wasn't."

"So, I take it that you won't be seeing him again?"

"No, I won't. I guess he wasn't who I thought he was."

The two drove on in silence.

When they arrived at the Sandel home, Izzie took her time getting out of the car. A few minutes later, Mr. and Mrs. Sandel were at the door, hugging their child. Izzie assured her parents many times that she would not be seeing Dyllan Rycroft and that she did realize that she had made a mistake.

"Izzie, there's lots of time for boyfriends," her father told her. "You should just take it slow. Get out and do things before you decide to settle down. And when you do, don't just go with the first guy who says he loves you."

Fenton and Mr. Sandel helped Izzie retrieve her things from Fenton's car and then the detective left the family, only after Mrs. Sandel had thanked him over and over again and made sure that he knew how elated she was over the fact that he was able to find their daughter in less than a day.

When he left, it was still dark and the snow was coming down even harder than before. He had heard earlier that day that the weathermen were calling for a snowstorm. That was partly the reason he had hurried to put up all the Christmas decorations.

The wipers worked hard to keep the thick snow off the windshield. He drove on in silence for a while.

He was crossing a small bridge when the car began to skid. Too late he realized that he had hit a patch of black ice. His vehicle fishtailed. His stomach did a flip-flop when he heard a crunch that was the sound of the guardrail breaking and his car tilted wildly then took a nosedive into the pond.

The detective hit the steering wheel hard. He groaned as the car began sinking. He knew that this wasn't good, but he couldn't stay in the car. He took a deep breath then pushed hard on his door. It opened and freezing water began rushing in. He was soon totally submerged in the ice-cold water. He could hardly breathe for the cold had a grip on his chest. He propelled himself to the surface.

He knew he had to get out of the water fast; but even now it might be too late. He was in the middle of nowhere. He'd be lucky if he found a house.

He swam for the edge of the deep pond. His winter jacket and heavier winter shoes were dragging him down but he was reluctant to shed them. Somehow, he managed to make it to the edge and after a bit of struggling, pulled himself out of the water. With an effort, he pulled himself up, using a nearby tree to support him. He could see that his car was still sinking. His fingers that clutched the tree truck were quickly freezing and he realized that the rest of his winter clothes that he usually brought in the trunk for emergencies were now unsalvageable.

The temperature had dropped considerably and he knew that if he didn't find shelter quickly, he would freeze to death. He began walking to the road. He struggled up the hill from the pond and onto the deserted bridge. He hoped desperately that someone would drive by as he began walking back. He had not seen any houses for a couple miles in the direction he came from so he continued on in the direction he had been initially headed in.

He trudged on for a while, snow whipping around him and he could feel the bite of the wind even more. He was soaked to the skin. He lowered his head and hugged his body in an ineffective attempt to keep himself warm.

All he wanted to do was lie down and go to sleep, but he fought to stay awake and keep going, knowing it was his only chance to survive. He stumbled and fell to his knees. He wanted so desperately to go to sleep, but he pulled himself back to his feet and trudged on.

Then he stopped and strained into the distance. Was that a light? He was pretty sure that it was. It seemed to give him a bit more strength. As he kept walking, the light grew stronger. It seemed to take forever, but he was soon looking at a large barn. He could not see a house through the driving snow.

He struggled with the latch on one of the doors with frozen fingers. He finally got it and opened the door. The rough wind blew it closed behind him with a bang. He could hear restless movements and then the neigh of a horse. He heard some chickens and a meow of a couple cats. He walked forward, bumped into something, then fell to the floor. He struggled to keep his eyes open but he felt a comfortable warmth cover his body and he closed his eyes and fell asleep.