Chapter 4

The Hardys, Chief Collig and Con Riley stared in shock at Frank, their relief at finding him safe and well slowly dissipating as the realisation that it was Joe who was missing sank in.

"How could you not know he was missing?" Frank yelled at his parents, his emotions going into over-drive as guilt kicked in.

"He…he was supposed to be at Biff's," Laura answered tremulously. "You were the one who was supposed to be home and we thought…we thought…" Laura's words dissolved into sobs and her husband put his arms around her.

Frank wanted to keep yelling. He wanted to scream at them, to hit someone, but seeing his mother so upset he knew he couldn't. Slowly, Frank swallowed his anger.

"What happened?" he demanded in a hard voice.

Con winced at the harsh tones in the teenager's voice. "We don't know yet, Frank. We're working on…"

"What do you know?" asked Frank, refusing to be put off.

"Frank," said his father in warning. "Con just told you they're working on it."

Frank stared mutinously at his father. Another emotion rose sharply within him alongside the anger and guilt, causing tears to prick his eyes.

No! Frank thought as he vied for control of his emotions.

Fenton could see how upset Frank was, and refrained from asking him about the mix up with the schoolbags. They could talk about that later.

"Gertrude," he said, turning to his white-faced sister. "Can you take Laura into the kitchen and make her something to help her calm down? Maybe some warm milk?"

Gertrude nodded. "Of course. Chief Collig, Con, would either of you like some tea?"

"No thank you, Miss. Hardy," Con answered politely. "We've got some work to do."

"And I'm going with them," said Fenton.

Gertrude opened her mouth to argue, but quickly shut it when Fenton shook his head and sent a warning look at Laura. "Come on, Laura," she said soothingly, her arm around the younger woman. "Let's get a hot drink."

As Gertrude guided Laura into the kitchen, Fenton turned to face the other men. "Can you take me to the crime scene? I still can't drive."

"Of course, Fenton," said Chief Collig understandingly. "Why don't you grab a coat and let Gertrude know? You might want to warn her to listen for the phone as well, just in case the kidnapper calls," he added uneasily.

Fenton nodded grimly.

"I'm coming with you," Frank spoke up, regaining control of his emotions.

"No way, Frank," said his father firmly. "You're staying here."

"But I want to come!" said Frank, outraged.

"A crime scene is no place for a teenager, Frank. You know that!"

"You're going," said Frank accusingly. "And you're not even supposed to be moving around much!"

"You're not going and that's my final word!" snapped Fenton.

Frank didn't answer. Instead, he stormed out of the room and slammed the door. Fenton winced.

"Mercy," exclaimed Gertrude as she appeared in the doorway between the kitchen and living room. "What's going on here?"

"Frank," said Fenton, by way of explanation as they heard a door slam somewhere above them. "Best give him some time to cool down. How's Laura?"

"She's upset, Fenton," said Gertrude. "And frankly, so am I. Are you sure you're able for this?"

"I have to be," answered Fenton.

"Fenton, please," Gertrude argued. "You're not strong enough physically, your body is only just recovering from the shooting. Can't you let the police…"

"We don't have time for this," Fenton cut her off. "Every minute spent arguing is a minute wasted in which we could be finding Joe. My mind is made up."

Gertrude frowned but remained quiet.

"Gertrude," said Fenton, as he lowered his voice. "I need you to listen for the phone tonight in case the kidnapper rings…"

"You don't want Laura or Frank to answer," Gertrude guessed and Fenton nodded.

"Right now, I think they might be a little too emotional," said Fenton, trying to swallow his own emotions. He knew from experience how rattling a phone call from a kidnapper could be.

"Bring your cell phone," Gertrude whispered. "So I can contact you if there's any news."

"Fenton nodded and hugged his sister. Then he went into the kitchen to say goodbye to his wife.

After several minutes, Gertrude lifted her head and addressed the two police officers. "Make sure he doesn't overdo it," she told them, her voice stronger.

The two men nodded as Fenton re-entered the room, a coat in his hands. "Okay, I'm ready. Let's go." Turning to Gertrude, he added, "I'll call if we find anything."

"Just find Joe," she told him, acknowledging aloud for the first time that her nephew was missing.

Fenton squeezed her arm reassuringly, and followed Chief Collig and Con out the door.

"Fenton, you sit in the front," said Con as he opened the back door. "You'll be more comfortable."

Thanks, Con," said Fenton gratefully. He knew he would pay for this later tonight, but right now he didn't care. He had a son to find.

As the car reversed out of the drive and drove away, the three men were completely unaware of the fourth passenger hiding in the trunk.

XXX

Ouch! Frank cursed silently to himself as he hit his head on the trunk of the patrol car when it went over a particularly large bump.

Frank had been determined that his father wasn't going to stop him from looking for his brother. While the men were in the living room, Frank had slammed his bedroom door then snuck back downstairs and into the trunk of the Patrol car. He knew his father would be furious once he found out what Frank had done, but Frank didn't care. He was more worried about Joe.

He was also worried about what he would tell his father about the schoolbags. Frank knew he must have picked up the wrong schoolbag just before he had stormed off after their argument. He and Joe had identical schoolbags. Their mother always bought them the same schoolbag, maintaining that there would be no arguments over who got the better school bag that way.

Frank didn't mind getting into trouble for cutting school. The problem was his father would know he wasn't alone and would want to know who he was with. That meant explaining about Paul and the others, and breaking his promise to Paul that he would say nothing. Not to talk of what would happen if they found out about the elderly woman Mrs. Deagan.

Frank sighed painfully. He had been worrying about Mrs. Deagan ever since Paul and Ryan had dragged him away, and prayed fervently that she would be alright. He couldn't get the image of Ryan striking the woman out of his head and felt nausea rise once more. Frank forced himself not to think about it and his mind returned to something else.

Joe.

In his head, Frank could hear his words to Joe that afternoon replaying over and over…I'm sick of you, Joe…why do you have to be such a drag…I wish I didn't have a brother…

A violent explosion of pain and guilt hit Frank, and he moaned before he could stop himself. As the turbulent emotions raged inside him, he thumped his hand in frustration with his fist.

So stupid! he told himself savagely.

Suddenly, Frank found himself battling desperately to keep his spiralling emotions under control, and he dealt with it the only way he knew how.

He shut down.

When the patrol car pulled up at the crime scene, it was a very detached and unemotional Frank who banged on the lid of the trunk.

As the trunk opened, Frank found himself staring up at the shocked face of Con Riley.

"You shouldn't have come, Frank," said Con, shaking his head as Frank clambered out of the cramped trunk.

They weren't far from where Frank had argued with Joe that afternoon, and Frank felt bile rise in his throat as he realised how soon after the argument Joe must have been kidnapped. Emotions thundered beneath the surface once more, but Frank quashed them. He needed to remain calm.

The area around him was a hive of activity. Several police officers bustled to and from the many patrol cars and vans. Large spotlights had been set up to combat the darkness, as had barriers to deal with the growing number of spectators.

Frank could see his father standing at the front of the patrol car. Fenton was staring at Frank, a mixture of shock and anger on his face. Frank stared defiantly back at his father.

"Frank, what the hell do you think you're doing?" his father yelled.

"I'm looking for my brother!" Frank shot back.

Fenton moved around to the back of the car beside Frank and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Frank, I know you're worried about Joe, we all are. But this is not helping! Your mother and Gertrude will be frantic if they find you gone."

"I can take Frank home if you want?" Con offered, then backed up a step as the teenager glared murderously at him.

"Frank, please," his father begged. "I don't want you here. I want you at home safe with your mother."

"You mean like Joe should be?" said Frank quietly. "Dad, please, I need to be here! I'll go crazy at home waiting!"

Fenton sighed. He didn't have the strength to argue. "Fine, you can stay. But I need to call home and let Laura know where you are, she's already had enough scares tonight."

Frank felt the familiar surge of guilt flash through him as his father pulled out his cell phone and stepped away from them to call home.

"Frank, are you sure about this?" asked Con. "Easy," he added, as Frank scowled at him. "I'm just making sure you'll be okay."

"I'll be fine," Frank muttered.

I couldn't feel any worse than I do now, that's for sure.

They stood in silence for several minutes before Fenton reappeared, tucking his cell away. "Your mother's not pleased, Frank," said Fenton. "And I don't blame her. I'm not happy about this either, not happy at all."

Frank remained silent, and Fenton looked at Con who shrugged.

"Fenton, are you ready?" called Chief Collig from where he was speaking with another officer.

Fenton nodded, and with an anxious glance at Frank, crossed over to the Chief of Police.

Chief Collig frowned at Frank. "Fenton, what's Frank doing here? I don't think it's a good idea for him to be here."

"Neither do I," said Fenton shortly, "but there isn't much I can do about it."

Chief Collig's frown deepened as he studied Frank, and Frank arranged his face into what he hoped was an unruffled expression.

The Chief sighed. "Fine. This way."

Beckoning them forward, he led them over to a patch of ground that had been sealed off using the type of yellow crime scene tape that Frank usually only saw on TV.

"Here," said Chief Collig, as he ducked beneath the tape. Fenton moved swiftly after him, but Con placed a restraining arm on Frank before he could follow him. "No, Frank," he said firmly. "It's a crime scene, and your father and Chief Collig know how to move around it without disturbing any evidence. You don't."

Frank couldn't argue with Con's logic so he just shook his hand off instead. He watched his father and Chief Collig very closely as they studied the ground.

"It was definitely here?" asked Fenton.

"Yes," said Chief Collig. "You can see where the…" The Chief's voice trailed off and he glanced uncertainly at Fenton.

"Where the struggle took place?" Fenton finished softly and the Chief nodded unhappily.

"The ground is very messed up," said Fenton, almost to himself.

Chief Collig nodded. "It looks like Joe put up quite a fight," he said gently. "Fenton, there was some blood on the ground."

Fenton's head snapped up. "Was it Joe's?"

"Fenton…"

I know, I know. You won't know until you get it tested," said Fenton wearily. "Sorry, Ezra, I didn't think."

"Perfectly understandable," said the Chief gruffly.

"Any evidence?"

"Just this," the Chief answered as he held up a small bag in his hand. Inside it was a white rag. "It's chloroform judging by the smell."

Frank watched the exchange with a sickening feeling. An image of his brother being pounced on crept into his mind and Frank tried to brush it away. Quickly he turned from the scene where the kidnapping had taken place. His heart was hammering madly in his chest and Frank could feel his breathing quicken.

"Frank, are you okay?" he heard Con ask.

"Yeah," Frank answered, and was surprised by how lost and childlike his voice sounded.

Con was watching him in concern when his father and Chief Collig rejoined them.

"Frank?" said Fenton, as he noticed how pale his son was. "Are you okay?"

"Uh-huh," Frank lied.

Fenton saw right through him. He said nothing, merely put a comforting arm around Frank's shoulder. Frank couldn't help but feel reassured by its presence.

What would the guys say if they could see you now? sneered a voice in his head. Who cares? argued another. They beat up on little old ladies!

Frank couldn't repress the shudder that ran through his body as he pictured the violent scene he had witnessed earlier that afternoon.

"Frank?" said his father, concerned.

"I'm okay," Frank mumbled.

"Are you sure?" asked Fenton as he scrutinised Frank.

"I'm positive," Frank yelled suddenly, shaking off his father's arm. "Why does everyone keep asking me that?"

"Because they're worried about you," retorted Fenton, his voice low. He was painfully aware of the many eyes that had swivelled in their direction at Frank's yell.

Frank didn't answer.

"Frank," said Fenton, his voice stern. "I know you've been through a rough time lately, and I'm guessing you probably feel pretty upset right now, but this is not the time for temper tantrums!"

Frank nodded guiltily. "Sorry, Dad."

Fenton frowned at him and turned back to Chief Collig. "Ezra, were there any witnesses?"

The Chief winced. "Not exactly."

"What do you mean not exactly?" Fenton demanded. "Who phoned in the kidnapping?"

Chief Collig exchanged a look with Con Riley.

"That woman over there," said Con in a low voice.

Fenton followed Con's gaze. A woman with dark hair and a red sweater sat half-in, half-out, of a patrol car. She held a boy of about seven on her knees and was rocking him back and forth. They both looked lost.

"Has anybody questioned her?" asked Fenton.

"No," Con shook his head.

"No!" Fenton exclaimed. "But she's a witness!"

"She's not the witness, Fenton," said Chief Collig softly.

Fenton's heart thudded right down into his shoes as he looked at the little boy. "Oh no! You mean…?"

Con nodded. "The little kid saw it all. He's pretty traumatised by the whole thing."

Fenton swallowed. The last thing in the world he wanted to do was upset a traumatised child by forcing him to relive what he had seen. But on the other hand, this little boy seemed to be the only person who had seen what happened to his son. If they waited for him to find his nerve, precious time would tick away and it might be too late to find Joe.

Fenton swallowed.

"Ezra, what happened?" he asked hoarsely. "Why didn't the mother see anything?"

"The little boy was playing in his front yard," Chief Collig answered and pointed down the street. "They live just up there. His mother thinks his ball bounced out the gate and he went out after it. When she realised he was missing, she came looking for him and found him sitting on the pavement crying hysterically. She got enough of a story from him to guess what happened and called the police. But she hasn't let anyone near the child to ask him any questions. Says her husband is on the way and we can talk to him."

"Let me talk to her," said Fenton.

"Fenton…"

"Ezra, please!" he begged.

The Chief sighed and nodded. "The woman's name is Sandy Keane."

"Thank you," said Fenton gratefully, as moved towards the woman. Frank followed silently.

"Mrs. Keane?" said Fenton as he approached the woman. "I'm Fenton Hardy. Do you mind if I ask a few questions?"

The woman looked up and her face was grim and strained. She didn't look much older than twenty five. "I already told that other officer that Adam wouldn't be answering any questions," she said hoarsely tightening her grip on her son. "He's been through enough for one day."

"I'm not a police officer," said Fenton. "That boy today, he's…he's my son."

The woman stared at him and Fenton caught the flash of sympathy in her eyes. "Please," he begged softly. "Every second is precious. I promise I won't upset Adam."

The woman hesitated, then nodded.

Fenton smiled gratefully at her. "Hi," he said, crouching down beside the car and facing the little boy. He had blond hair. Like Joe, Fenton realised with a pang. "My name is Fenton. Your mommy tells me your name is Adam?"

The little boy glanced at his mother who nodded encouragingly. He looked back at Fenton. "Y-yes," he answered.

"So, Adam," Fenton continued softly. "Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

Adam shook his head.

"Really?" Fenton smiled gently. "So you don't have to share your mom or dad with anyone? I bet you get on really well."

Adam nodded and smiled slightly. "We're going to the circus together on Sunday."

"Lucky you, the circus is great fun."

Adam smiled a little wider. "I want to see the elephants! Dad said they dance at the circus!"

"They sure do. Do you see that boy over there?" He indicated Frank and Adam nodded. "Well, that's my son Frank."

Adam looked at Frank again. "He's tall," he whispered.

Fenton chuckled. "He is," he agreed. "And when he was your age, I brought him to the circus to see the elephants, but they scared him."

"Really?" said Adam, his eyes wide.

"Yup," Fenton answered. "But my other son, Joe, wasn't afraid at all and actually got to ride one of the elephants! You'd like Joe, he has hair just like yours."

"Is he tall too?" asked Adam.

Fenton felt a lump form in his throat and his smile faded. "No, not really," he told Adam. "He's very small for his age. In fact, he's not really that much bigger than you."

"Is he here?" asked Adam.

"No, he's not," said Fenton sadly, and glanced at Mrs. Keane.

The woman tightened her arms around her son and said gently, "Adam, that boy you saw today was Joe."

Adam's eyes widened fearfully and his lower lip started to tremble.

"Adam," said Fenton gently, as he put his hand on the little boy's knee. "I love my son very much and I really want to get him home safe. Can you help me?"

Tremulously, Adam nodded.

"Thank you, Adam. Now, I don't want you to get scared, okay? I'm just going to ask you a couple of questions."

"'Kay," Adam whispered.

"When did you first see Joe?"

"When I went to get my ball," said Adam. "It went into the bushes, and I went in to get it. I was going to come out when I saw Joe across the road. Th-there was a man behind him." Tears began to roll down Adam's face and Fenton squeezed his knee reassuringly.

"Take your time, Adam. You're doing really well."

Adam sniffed. "Joe saw the man and…and he threw his bag at him and tried to run away, but the man caught him."

"What happened then, Adam?" asked Fenton, keeping his voice low and even.

"The man pushed him on the ground and…and banged his head," Adam's voice dropped to a whisper.

Fenton swallowed, trying not to picture the scene. "Did you see anything else, Adam?"

"No!" the little boy sobbed. "I closed my eyes!"

"That's okay, Adam," said Fenton soothingly. "You've done very well, and I think you're a very brave boy."

"Really?" the child sniffled.

"Really," said Fenton. "Can you do just one more thing for me?"

Adam nodded.

"Can you describe the man for me?"

Adam scrunched up his tear streaked face trying to think. "He…he was big."

"How big?" Fenton prodded gently. "Was he as tall as me?" Fenton stood up to emphasise his question.

Adam looked up at him and shook his head. "No, he wasn't as tall as you. But he had big muscles, like Batman."

"Do you remember what colour hair he had?"

Adam shook his head. "No, he had a hat on."

"A hat?"

"Yeah, a blue one. It looked like mine."

"Anything else?" asked Fenton as he crouched down beside Adam again.

Adam shook his head miserably.

"Nothing?" said Fenton a little desperately.

"N-no," said Adam, starting to cry again.

"Shhh, it's okay. Don't cry, Adam," said Fenton, trying to speak past the growing lump in his throat. "You did very well. When we…when we find Joe, I'll make sure to tell him it was because you helped us, okay?"

Adam nodded as his mother cuddled him close.

"Thank you," said Fenton hoarsely to Sandy Keane as he got to his feet. The mother nodded, her eyes brimming with tears and sympathy. She was a parent, she understood.

As Fenton turned away, Frank caught a glimpse of his father's face. He was shocked at the look of crushing disappointment he saw there, and realised with dawning horror what his father already knew.

They had nothing to go on.

A/N: Once again, thank you to all the wonderful people who reviewed! It's addictive reading your feedback:-)

The Silent Rumble; Thank you so much! And yes, I love the Hardy Boys (have done since I was 9!). That's why fan fiction is such a godsend, I can write my own Hardy Boys and indulge myself in reading as much fan fiction as I want!

Paperdaisies; I'm glad you agree with me about the on hiatus thing! I prefer to post finished stories, I hate showing unfinished work to anyone! And don't worry, the story might be dark and angsty but I would never kill off a main character! Aside from that, I don't want to give away too much about the ending!

Mocha Addict; I'm on a favourites list? You know, you've just made my day! Thank you so much!

Ca; Thanks for the review, glad you like how things are panning out so far. I hope you continue to!