Chapter 7

Fenton stared out the car window as Laura drove through Bayport. He was exhausted and his lungs hurt.

I guess the doctor really knew what he was talking about when he warned me to rest, thought Fenton, trying to hide the fact that he was in pain from Laura. He could see that she was barely keeping it together.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Laura shook her head and her grip on the steering wheel tightened until her knuckles went white. "Of course I'm not okay, Fenton!" she snapped, then softened her tone. "Sorry."

"It's okay," said Fenton, reaching out and patting her arm.

"No, it's not okay," said Laura. "You're worried too and it's not fair of me to be taking my frustration out on you. It's just that…I've never felt so helpless in my life!"

Fenton looked at her, surprised. "What about when you and the boys were kidnapped at Lake Adams?"

"That was different," Laura answered as she turned the car off Main Street. "I was with the boys then, I knew what was happening! Right now, I don't even know if they're alive!" Laura's voice broke at the last word and the car swerved.

"Laura, pull in," said Fenton gently.

Laura parked the car and turned to Fenton. "What if we never get either of them back?" she croaked and burst into tears.

Hurriedly, Fenton put his arms around her. "We'll get both boys home safe and sound, Laura, I promise."

"How can you promise something like that?" Laura cried into her husband's chest. "You don't even know where they are!"

"I didn't know where all three of you were when you were kidnapped from Lake Adams," Fenton reminded her. "I thought I'd never see any of you again but I never stopped hoping, and you can't either. I found you all then and I'll find the boys now! Plus, the boys are older now, and remember how resourceful they were, even then?"

Laura laughed shakily. "I remember," she said pulling away from her husband. "I was so proud of them for being so brave."

"Then don't give up hope," said Fenton.

Just then, his cell phone rang loudly. Fenton answered it quickly. "Fenton Hardy."

"Did you find Frank yet?" It was his sister.

"No. I take it none of his friends have seen him?" said Fenton.

"Not one," sighed Gertrude. "And the police were here. They installed some electronic do-hickey on the phone, so you'd better get back here soon because I have no idea how to work the stupid thing!"

Fenton chuckled. "Don't worry. We'll be home the second we find Frank. Anyone else call?"

"Chief Collig did. He found out that Joe finished school early yesterday because the heating broke down."

"Around what time?" asked Fenton sharply.

"Lunchtime," answered Gertrude. "Fenton, there's more."

"More?"

"Frank's school called. He missed all of his classes yesterday afternoon."

Fenton was shocked. Frank cut school?

"Fenton, you need a serious word with that boy! Outbursts of temper and now he's skipping school? Enough is enough!"

Fenton didn't answer. Frank lied, he thought. He lied about when he saw Joe!

"Fenton? Are you there?"

"Huh? Yeah, I'm here. Gertrude, thanks for calling. I'd better go, we need to keep the phone free…just in case there's any calls."

"I understand. I'll talk to you later."

"Bye," said Fenton as he hung up.

"Fenton?" said Laura. "What was that all about?"

Fenton stared at his cell phone. "Frank cut school yesterday."

"What!" Laura exclaimed. Quickly Fenton filled her in on the phone call. When he was finished, Laura spoke up.

"He's going to confess."

"What?"

"Frank is going to tell us the truth"

Fenton was startled. "How do you know that?"

"When Frank was small, whenever he did something he knew would upset me, he used to disappear for an hour or so. I don't know why, he just did. And then he would suddenly reappear and confess everything."

"I never knew he used to do that," said Fenton thoughtfully.

Laura gave him a small smile. "It was during your more career driven days. Besides, he hasn't done it in years."

Fenton grimaced at the reminder of what he had missed during his sons' early years when he had been too busy chasing down criminals to spend time with them. Then suddenly, something struck him.

"I know where Frank is!"

"What?" said Laura, unsure if she had heard right.

"I know where Frank is," Fenton repeated.

"How…?"

"I'll explain on the way," said Fenton.

"On the way where?" asked Laura, bewildered.

"Bayport Cemetery."

XXX

The dark-haired figure of a teenage boy sitting quietly beside a headstone did not arouse the suspicion of the cemetery caretaker when he unlocked the gates that morning. He had been working there for a long time. Over the years, he had discovered many grief-stricken relatives, lovers and friends slumped beside the grave of a loved one in the early hours of the morning. Some came to confess, others to talk, and some to say goodbye.

The boy was pale and looked half-frozen, but the caretaker could tell by the earnest way he was talking to the gravestone that the last thing in the world he wanted was to be disturbed.

Quietly, the old caretaker headed for the other side of the graveyard.

XXX

As Frank Hardy finished speaking, he rested his head against the headstone of his grandfather's grave. It wasn't quite the same as a friendly ear or a loving hug, but it gave him solace none the less.

"Thanks for listening, Gramps," Frank whispered as he closed his eyes. He felt utterly drained. He had spent the whole night talking, telling his grandfather about Joe, Mrs. Deagan and his uncontrollable anger. All he felt now was numbness.

It wasn't long before Frank drifted off to sleep. He only woke when someone shook him gently. "Frank!" he heard a voice call.

Opening his eyes, Frank gasped as he saw the figure of his father peering down at him in concern. "Are you okay, son?"

"Dad! What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you," Fenton answered quietly. "Your mother's in the car. I persuaded her to wait. We need to talk, Frank."

Frank stared at the ground. "You know."

"That you cut school yesterday? That you and Joe fought because of it? Yes, Frank, I know. What I don't know is why."

"I can't tell you."

"Okay then, why did you lie?"

"I can't tell you that either."

Fenton sighed. "Frank, whatever is bothering you is going to eat you up unless you deal with it or talk to someone about it. And don't try and tell me it's all about Joe," he added as Frank opened his mouth to argue. "This has been going on for a while now. Frank, bottling things up helps no one, least of all you."

Frank was silent.

"Come on," said Fenton, as he held out his hand. "You look frozen, let's get you home."

Frank allowed his father to pull him to his feet. "How did you know where to find me?" he asked.

"Something your mother said," answered Fenton. "About how you used to disappear as a child right before you confessed to something."

Frank was confused. "I don't get it."

Fenton smiled. "You work things out in your head, don't you? You need to explain to yourself why you did what you did before you can explain it to anyone else."

Frank was astonished. "How did you…?"

"I do the exact same thing," his father answered. "Before I talk to anyone about a case, before I explain anything, I get things straight in my own head."

Frank stared at his father. Joe was the only other person who had ever read him so clearly. "But how did you know where to find me?"

"I guessed you needed somewhere to think. Somewhere quiet, where there was no danger of being interrupted. And with everything that's happened lately, I realised you probably wanted to be somewhere you felt secure and comfortable." Fenton smiled sadly. "As a child, one of the places you were happiest was at Dad's house. You'd sit yourself in his rocking chair while he told stories."

"Things were easier then," murmured Frank. "So you knew I'd be here?"

Fenton nodded. "But you haven't sorted things out in your head, have you? That's why you're still here."

Frank didn't answer, just shivered a little.

Fenton put his arm around Frank's shoulder. "Let's get you back to the car at least, or your mother will come yelling at me for keeping you out here so long!"

As they walked out of the graveyard, Frank turned to his father and said, "I'm in trouble, aren't I?"

"Big trouble," Fenton agreed.

"How big?"

"Put it this way, don't make any plans for the next month."

"A month!" exclaimed Frank incredulously.

"At least."

Frank shook his head, but he knew he deserved it.

As they exited the cemetery, Frank glimpsed his mother sitting in the car across the road. Seeing Frank, Laura got out and rushed across the road. She never saw the car come speeding around the corner.

But Fenton did.

"LAURA!" he screamed, and threw himself at his wife hurling them both out of harm's way.

The car never stopped, it merely continued it's speedy journey down the road.

"Maniac!" Frank yelled as he dashed across the road to his parents. "Mom! Dad! Are you okay?"

"Just fine," Fenton assured him sitting up. "Laura?"

"I'm okay. I feel pretty silly for not watching the road though. Sorry, Fenton."

"Don't worry about it," said Fenton, getting to his feet. Then he turned and helped his wife up.

"Frank," said his mother as she hugged him. "You had me so worried!"

"Sorry, Mom," Frank mumbled.

His mother released him and frowned. "You'd better be, young man! And you're grounded for the next month just to be sure!"

"Maybe we should discuss this at home?" Fenton interrupted them.

Frank and Laura turned to face him, and were shocked by how pale his face had suddenly become. "Fenton," Laura gasped. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," said Fenton. "I'm fi…" His words trailed off and his face took on a pained expression.

"Dad?" said Frank, panicked.

But Fenton never answered, he just sank silently to the ground.

XXX

Joe awoke from a troubled sleep and shivered. He was freezing, the thin blanket on his small cot offering little respite from the bitter January chill. Sitting up, Joe moaned. He had spent the last few hours getting up to be sick. In the end, he could no longer crawl between the toilet and the cot, and so had remained on the floor shivering. When there was finally nothing left in him to throw up, Joe had dragged himself back to the small cot and collapsed onto it. He had slept fitfully, the cold and pain preventing him from resting properly.

As he glanced at the door, Joe gasped in shock. A glass of water and a packet of trail mix sat on the floor beside it.

Where did they come from?

Gingerly, he eased himself off the bed and moved to the door. His stomach felt too weak to even contemplate the trail mix, but his throat was burning after several hours of vomiting and Joe was desperate for a few drops of water.

Picking up the glass, he drank the water slowly and gratefully. It's icy coldness felt soothing to his raw throat.

Placing the empty glass back on the floor, Joe looked for some way to open the door, but there was nothing. The door opened just one way; from the other side. Sighing miserably, Joe made his way back to the cot. His head still ached, although he didn't feel nauseous anymore.

Curling back into a ball, Joe wondered how long it had been since the man had kidnapped him. It felt like an eternity. Were his family looking for him? Had the kidnapper contacted them? Joe had no idea.

The boy started to cry. He felt so scared and alone, and wished desperately that he was at home with his family. Joe closed his eyes as tears ran down his face; he was terrified that he'd never see his family again.

A scratching at the door made the breath catch in his throat.

"Joeeey," an eerie voice called. "Are you awake?"

Joe froze, his heart pounding.

An evil laugh drifted through the door. "I know you're awake, I can hear you cryyiinng."

Hurriedly, Joe put his hand over his mouth and tried to still his haggard breathing. There was silence for several long minutes and Joe was just starting to wonder if the man had gone when suddenly the light went out!

With a startled cry, Joe sat up.

Laughter sounded outside the door again. "What's the matter, Joey? Are you afraid of the dark?" Joe didn't answer and the man laughed again. "Rock-a-bye Joey in the tree top," he sang crazily. "When the wind blows the cradle will rock. When the bough breaks the cradle will fall, and down will come Joey, cradle and all!"

As he crooned vindictively, a shiver ran down Joe's back.

"Better get used to the dark, Joey boy," taunted the man gleefully, "'cause you'll never see daylight again!"

A/N: Once more, thanks again for all the reviews. Keep 'em coming, I love reading them! I'll be posting three chapters in the morning, but before you get too excited I'd better mention that I'm heading off inter-railing around Europe for a month on Saturday. So that means it'll be a month before I update again (hence why I'm giving you three chappies together!)

Pen and Paper71: Thanks.

astalder27: Now, now, I can't tell you what the kidnapper wants, that would spoil the story! And Frank had to learn the hard way not to take the people he loves for granted, hence why it took time for him to pick Joe.

The Silent Rumble: The story's fully written so I can't go changing things now! But don't worry, there's a little Frank angst in there!