Chapter 6

It was nearly eleven thirty when Frank and his father finally arrived home. As they entered the house with Con Riley, a red-eyed Laura rushed to meet them.

"Any news?" she asked breathlessly.

Despondent, Fenton shook his head and put his arm around his wife, steering her towards the living room. Gertrude entered it from the kitchen.

"What did you find out?" she asked anxiously.

"Nothing," Fenton responded. "Any news? Did anyone ring?"

Gertrude shook her head.

"Why hasn't the kidnapper contacted us?" Frank asked his father desperately.

"I have no idea," said Fenton wearily.

The Hardys fell silent and Con spoke up. "Um, Fenton? I'm sorry, but I'm going to need a recent picture of Joe for our missing persons."

"I'll get it," said Gertrude heavily, crossing to the bookcase and removing a photo album from the shelf. Leafing through it, she found a picture of Frank and Joe sitting on the floor surrounded by wrapping paper on Christmas morning. Both were grinning at the camera. "What about this one?" she asked as she removed the picture.

Frank caught a glimpse of the picture as Gertrude held it out to Con. "No! Not that one!" he cried and snatched it from his aunt's fingers.

"Frank!" exclaimed Gertrude, shocked.

"We're not giving this one away!" said Frank, breathing heavily and clutching the picture to his chest.

"Okay, Frank, okay," said Fenton. "We'll use another one."

Wordlessly, Gertrude flicked through the photo album again and selected a picture of Joe and his mother sitting on the couch. "Here," she said quietly, passing it to Con.

"Thanks, Miss. Hardy," he said. She nodded and returned the album to its place.

"Would you like some tea, Con?" Laura offered.

"No, thank you, Laura," answered Con. "I'd best be off."

"Thanks for everything this evening, Con," said Fenton. "Promise me you'll call if you discover anything new? No matter how late it is."

"I'll call," said Con as he looked at the Hardys sympathetically. "Get some rest. The boys from electronics will be over tomorrow to put a trace on your phone."

Fenton nodded.

"I'll show myself out," said Con. "Night all."

Con departed, leaving the Hardy family alone.

"I'll make us some tea," said Gertrude quietly and headed for the kitchen.

Laura sank into one of the armchairs, a hand over her eyes. Fenton placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, Laura. We'll find him," he said, but his words had a hollow ring to them.

Frank turned and headed for the door. He wanted to reach the sanctuary of his room but Fenton's voice stopped him. "Hold it, Frank."

Frank winced and faced his father. There was a grim tone in Fenton Hardy's voice that he didn't often hear there.

"Yes, Dad?"

"I want to know how you and Joe got your schoolbags mixed up today," said Fenton as he stared at Frank intently.

Frank's heart plummeted. How was he going to explain this one?

"Well?" pressed Fenton when Frank didn't respond.

"I, uh, met him after school," said Frank, staring at the floor.

"What!" Fenton exclaimed. "What time? Where? Jesus, Frank, you couldn't have said this earlier?"

Frank winced at the tone of his father's voice. Fenton noticed at once and softened his words. "I'm sorry, Frank. But information like that is crucial to the investigation! We need to narrow the time frame for when Joe was kidnapped as well as the area. Now, what time did you see Joe at?"

"After school," answered Frank evasively.

"I gathered as much, what time was it exactly?" said Fenton impatiently.

"I dunno," Frank mumbled. "I wasn't wearing a watch."

Fenton sighed. "Could you at least guess?"

"I was walking to a friend's house after school, and Joe was heading to Biff's I think."

"Where did you meet him?" asked Fenton, studying his son. Frank was holding back on him, he could tell.

"Just down from the crime scene," said Frank, avoiding his father's eyes.

"What! But then you could be a witness! Frank, did you see anything?"

Frank's head shot up. "You think that if I saw anything I wouldn't have already told the police?" he demanded angrily.

"I didn't mean that, Frank," said his father wearily. "I meant you could have seen something unusual without realising it. A car? Someone acting oddly perhaps? Anything! Think, Frank!"

"I SAW NOTHING!" Frank shouted, becoming more agitated.

"Frank, please," came his mother's soft voice. "Don't shout."

"Sorry, Mom." Frank glanced at his father. "You think I haven't already played the possibilities in my head? Dad, I didn't see anything."

"Okay, fine," said Fenton, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. "How did you and Joe manage to get each others' schoolbags."

"Our bags were on the ground. I must have picked his up without realising it."

"How could you not have known?" asked Fenton confused. Frank was usually extremely perceptive about small details.

"I…I was mad," Frank admitted shamefacedly.

"At Joe?" asked Fenton softly and Frank nodded.

"We had a fight," he whispered and his voice quavered. "I stormed off."

Fenton stared at Frank pityingly. He could see this was tearing him up. "What did you fight about?"

"It doesn't matter now," Frank said, staring at the floor once more.

"Frank, don't blame yourself," said Fenton, guessing what his son was thinking. "You weren't to know what would happen."

"I don't want to talk about it," Frank mumbled.

"Frank…"

"I SAID I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT!" Frank yelled. Whirling around, he stormed from the room and slammed the door.

"Let him go," said Laura quietly as Fenton made to go after him. "Frank needs to be alone right now."

XXX

Argggggggh! Frank screamed silently as he kicked his bed violently.

Stupid…kick…moron…another kick…idiot…Frank punched the wall hard, and pain seared through his fingers bringing the teenager back to reality.

I'm sorry, Joe, he thought as he flopped wearily onto the bed.

The picture was still in his hands. It was the last photo that had been taken of Frank with his brother, he couldn't let Con take it.

Frank stared down at Joe's grinning face.

What if that's the last photo that will ever be taken of me and Joe? Frank wondered. What if I never get to tell him I'm sorry?

Frank swallowed hard. The thought that he might never see his brother again caused him actual physical pain. Frank bit down hard on his lip as he fought to control the howl of misery building inside him.

If I'd gone with Joe instead of the guys then he'd be here safe and Mrs. Deagan mightn't have been hurt! It's all my fault! I'm a disaster! Why can't I do anything right?

The pain in Frank's chest continued to build and a tight knot formed in his throat making it hard to breathe.

I need to get out of here! Frank realised as he felt his bedroom walls close in around him.

Quickly, Frank slid off his bed. He put the picture in his pocket and pulled a warm coat from the closet. Opening his window, Frank clambered out onto the trellis and started to climb down. It was bitterly cold and Frank could see his breathing rising in uneven mists of heat before his eyes. Near the bottom, Frank slipped and fell the remainder of the way, breaking the trellis, tearing his hand and ruining his mother's roses.

Damn! he thought, listening to see if his parents had heard him.

They hadn't. Quickly, Frank scrambled off the ground and set off into the night.

Where am I going? he wondered and was surprised when a voice answered, Paul's.

It was after midnight and the streets of Bayport were quiet as Frank jogged to Paul's house. The silence was only broken by the occasional barking of a dog as Frank went by, or the sound of a car in the distance.

The lights were out when he finally reached Paul's house. It took several minutes of Frank throwing pebbles at Paul's window before a light went on and a tousled dark head was poked out the window.

"Whozzat?" Paul's sleepy voice whispered.

"It's me, Frank."

"I'll be right down," said Paul, instantly awake.

Minutes later, as Frank stood shivering on the back porch, the door opened and Paul stepped out into the night air fully dressed.

"What are you doing here?" Paul hissed.

"I needed to talk to someone," Frank answered.

Paul studied him for a moment. "Okay," he said, motioning to Frank to come in. "But we have to be quiet, I don't want to wake my dad."

Frank nodded and stepped into the welcome heat of the kitchen. Paul followed after him and closed the door. "Bloody hell, it's cold," whispered Paul as he blew on his fingers. "Did you walk the whole way here?"

Frank nodded. "You're crazy," Paul told him disbelievingly.

There was several minutes of silence, then Paul said, "I heard about your brother. I'm sorry, Frank"

Frank was surprised. "How did you know?"

"It's all over the news," answered Paul.

"Oh."

"You okay?"

"What do you think?" said Frank.

"Okay, stupid question. But what are you doing here?"

Frank was silent for several minutes. What was he doing here?

"Frank?"

"I need to tell Dad the truth," he answered finally, as realisation kicked in. "Just about skipping school, not the other…stuff."

"No way, Frank!" Paul exclaimed quietly. "They'll put two and two together that we all skipped school, and that might lead them straight to the old lady! I'm not joking, Ryan's dad will kill him if he finds out!"

"Paul, I have to!" Frank pleaded. "Joe was kidnapped not far from where we…where we argued today. I need to give Dad and the police an exact timeline so they have something to work with!"

Paul was silent.

"He's my brother, Paul."

Paul nodded. "I know. Do it, Frank."

"Really?" Frank was surprised.

"You said it yourself, he's your brother."

Frank smiled, relieved. "Thanks, Paul."

"Don't thank me yet," said Paul softly.

"What do you mean?"

Paul sighed. "I've known Ryan my whole life, Frank. He can be a jerk sometimes but he's my best friend and he's always looked out for me. I've been lucky. My mom might be dead, but my dad and my brother are great. Ryan's not so lucky; his dad's a complete jackass! Yet Ryan has still always looked out for me! I'm not stupid, Frank. Telling your dad the truth will lead the police back to Ryan, and that betrayal means you'll never be welcome in our gang again."

Frank was shocked. "Is that a threat? Chose carefully or you'll be in trouble?"

Paul shook his head. "No. I'm just preparing you for what will happen when you do."

Frank stared at Paul. There was no hint of a threat or malice in his voice. "You do know I'm going to choose Joe, don't you?" Frank warned.

"Of course," Paul answered simply. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

The two teenagers stared at each other for a long time. "I'd better go," said Frank finally.

"Okay. You take care, Frank."

You too," said Frank as he turned to leave.

"Frank?"

"Yeah?"

"I hope Joe comes home safe."

XXX

It was just before eight the next morning when Laura Hardy knocked on Frank's door. "Frank, honey? I know you're not going to school today but…"

As she pushed open the door, Laura screamed.

"FENTON!"

Fenton Hardy came rushing up the stairs as quickly as his weakened physique would allow. "What is it? What's wrong?" he demanded.

"It's Frank!" cried Laura. "He's not in his room and his bed hasn't been slept in!"

Fenton gasped and entered the room. Quickly he crossed to the open window and looked out. He immediately spotted the broken trellis and the battered roses.

Dammit, Frank! What the hell are you playing at?

Without saying a word, Fenton pushed past his agitated wife and surprised sister who had joined them in the room. He moved to the phone, snatched it up and dialled Chief Collig.

"Hello?" a gruff voice answered on the other end.

"Ezra? It's Fenton. Frank's missing!"

"What!" the Chief exploded. "When? How?"

"It looks like he snuck out sometime last night."

"I'll send out some Patrol cars and put the word out. In the meantime, can you try phoning all his friends to see if he went to one of their houses?"

"Okay," Fenton agreed. "Ezra, if you find him, will you tell him we're not mad? He might be worried that we are."

"Of course," answered Ezra. "I'll keep you updated."

"Thanks, Ezra. I'd appreciate that."

As Fenton hung up, he turned to his wife and sister.

"Gertrude, can you do me a favour? Call all of Frank's friends and see if he went to any of their houses last night. Or if they know where he might have gone."

Gertrude nodded. "Fenton, what…?" she began.

"Sorry, Gertrude," Fenton cut her off. "No time for questions. Laura, can you grab the car keys?"

"Where are we going?" asked his wife.

"To look for Frank, but I need you to drive."

"Fenton, you're not up to it," his wife protested. "You're really pale today and I heard you groaning in pain all night when you got back from the station."

"Laura," said Fenton as gently as he could. "Joe is missing and we don't know why. I don't want to take the chance that whoever has Joe might go after Frank too."

Laura winced and nodded. It pained her to think about it, but Fenton's words had a ring of truth.

"I'll get the keys," she whispered.

A/N: Thanks again to everyone who reviewed, you have no idea how much your comments make my day! ;-)

The Silent Rumble: Once again, thanks for the review!

Classacte: The old woman will have a part to play...just not in the way you expect!

beneaththesurface9: Thanks, hope you like this one as well!

Mocha Addict: Yup, more Joe angst, hope it's keeping you happy! ;-) And I agree with what you wrote about putting our favourite characters through hell; it is artly to see them emerge the stronger, but I think it's also partly because we want them to get the most page/screen time and the best lines!

An-Jelly-Ca: Thanks, glad you're enjoying it!