Chapter 17

Everyone in the room looked at Fenton to explain who Miles Denton was. To their surprise, he looked just as confused as they did.

"Who?" he asked.

"Miles Denton," repeated Mr. Johnson, removing a photograph from his jacket and handing it to Fenton. "You don't know him, but I daresay you knew his father, John Denton."

Fenton's expression switched from one of confusion to one of sadness as he stared at the photo. "John Denton? That's a name I haven't heard in years."

"Who's John Denton?" asked Laura, as Frank took the photo from his father's hands.

"Someone I knew a long time ago," said Fenton sadly. "I was a rookie and John was a senior officer. He brought me on my first ride along." Fenton smiled at the memory. "John was the sort of guy you only read about; full time police officer, volunteer fireman in his spare time, great husband and father, good friend. I've never met anyone like him since."

"What happened to him?" asked Sam, surprised he had never heard this story before.

"We were called to the scene of a domestic disturbance one night," said Fenton, closing his eyes as he remembered. "A young couple with a baby. The reports said the husband was beating his wife. When we came to the door, it was obvious she'd been beaten but she was so terrified that she told us she'd walked into a door."

Fenton shook his head angrily. "The husband was clearly on something and he was holding the baby, so we could see that's why she wouldn't leave. John played dumb; he told them every couple fights, but could they please not shout so loud that they disturbed their neighbours. He even pretended that he'd had one or two 'domestics' in his time - as if John and Grace could ever fight - and that they usually resolved them without disturbing the neighbours. Then he asked if he could hold the baby."

"What happened?" asked Gertrude.

"The husband thought he was dealing with a kindred spirit," said Fenton bitterly, opening his eyes. "He gave the baby to John without a second thought. Once John had the baby, he passed her straight to her mother and told me to take them both out of there. The husband lost it as I was leading them out the door and produced a gun. He shot the mother in the arm and was going to fire again."

The silence in the living room was thick as Fenton paused before continuing. "Just as the man fired, John threw himself in front of us. The bullet went straight through his liver and spleen. He bled out before the ambulance could get there."

Fenton fell quiet as he finished his story.

"What happened to the mother and baby?" Laura whispered.

"They survived," Fenton answered. "Backup arrived and the husband was arrested, but he hung himself in prison. Everyone figured it was because he was afraid of reprisals for killing an officer."

"Why didn't you ever say anything?" asked Laura.

"John died in my arms," said Fenton softly. "It's something I'd rather forget than remember."

"What I don't understand is why this man's son would blame you," Gertrude commented. "It wasn't your fault."

"I don't really understand either," Fenton admitted. "I never met John's kids, Grace took them away after the funeral. She said there were too many memories in New York."

"I think I can explain a little," said Mr. Johnson. "After John's death, life got very difficult for the Dentons. A Widow's pension isn't much to survive on, and the oldest boy had to leave school and go out to work. Then one of the younger boys shot himself at sixteen. Miles was the one who discovered the body." The old man shook his head sadly. "He was never the same after that."

"So he went after my son?" said Laura angrily. "I know he suffered a lot of tragedy in his life, but that's not a good enough reason to take an eleven year old child from his family and hurt him!" Angry tears welled up in Laura's eyes.

"Does he blame me for everything that went wrong in his life?" asked Fenton quietly.

"I think so," Mr. Johnson admitted.

"That's ridiculous!" snapped Gertrude. "How could he blame you?"

"He had no one else to blame," said Fenton. "The man who killed his father was dead, but he needed to blame someone. It was only natural he'd pick the person who was there when his father died."

"You're a very astute man, Mr. Hardy," said Mr. Johnson. "I can see how you've earned your reputation. And you're right; Miles needed an outlet for his anger and unfortunately you were it. His brother told me that he once heard him say you should have died that night instead of John."

"Um…sorry to interrupt," said Sam suddenly. "But…where's Frank?"

Everyone looked around at where Frank had been standing. There was no sign of the teenager. Fenton noticed at once that the photo of Miles Denton was gone too.

Dammit, Frank! he groaned silently.

XXX

Frank peddled furiously through Bayport. The second he had heard his father start to tell the story about John Denton, Frank had felt a spurt of impatience and disappeared. He was tired of talk, he wanted action.

I'll find Joe myself! he vowed, taking with him the photograph of the man who had kidnapped his brother. Frank arrived outside the Junior High School with seconds to spare before the bell rang.

As he caught his breath, Frank spotted who he was looking for. "Chet! Hey, Chet! CHET!"

The stout boy turned and his mouth dropped open in shock when he saw Frank. Quickly, he raced over to Frank. "Frank! What are you doing here?"

"No time to explain! Have you got your bike with you, and where are Phil and Tony? I need your help."

"Frank, it's January. Of course I don't have my bike with me."

"Where are Phil and Tony?"

"They should be here. We arranged to…there they are! PHIL! TONY!" called Chet suddenly, waving wildly. Frank spotted the other boys hurrying over to them.

"Frank, what are you…?" Phil began but Frank cut him off.

"I'll explain on the way, I need your help. Have you guys got your bikes with you?"

"Yeah," said Phil.

"Me too," added Tony.

"Great! Sorry, Chet, but you don't have a bike so…"

"Hey, you're going nowhere without me!" said Chet indignantly.

"My house is just five minutes from here," said Tony. "He can always borrow one of my brothers' bikes."

"Okay, it's on the way anyway," said Frank. "But I hope you can run, Chet and I'm not joking!"

Ten minutes later, with Chet comfortably saddled (and amid much muttering about Frank running him ragged), the boys were cycling briskly through Bayport. Frank had filled them in on what had happened and they were now calling into every shop with Miles' photo to ask if anyone had seen him, as well as keeping their eyes on the street. They had been searching for nearly half an hour when they struck it lucky. The manager of the hardware store had seen Miles several times!

"He was in here all the time 'bout two, three weeks ago," the man told them when they asked. "Bought a lot of bricks and cement. Bought a darn big bolt for a door too! Said he was fixing a shed for his pet lamb or something like that."

"When was he in last?" asked Frank, unable to believe his luck.

The man scratched his chin. "Hmmm. I think he was in yesterday. That's right, he bought a shovel yesterday. Said his lamb was sick and he might have to bury it."

Frank turned white and Phil asked hurriedly, "any idea where he lives?"

"Nope." The old man shook his head. "Although my assistant, Brent, thinks he lives outside town, near the woods somewhere. He doesn't like the man much, thinks he's strange. I thought he seemed a nice enough fella myself."

"Really? Out near the woods?" said Frank, attempting to keep his voice polite. "Did Brent have any idea where?"

"Well, he kept seeing him in that greasy spoon café on the outskirts of town, Macie's or something. Say, what's with all the questions anyway? You kids up to something?"

"No. Thanks for all your help!" Frank called as they hurried out the door.

The boys cycled as fast as they could to the café on the outskirts of town. When they got there, Frank decided it would be best if he stayed outside, just in case the man was in there and recognised him.

"And we can get a soda while we're in there," said Chet, puffing from his exertions. "Hey," he added defensively, as he saw Frank raise his eyebrows. "We'll look less suspicious if we actually buy something."

"Good point," Frank conceded. "But be quick."

While the boys were in the café, Frank stayed across the road and swept his sharp eyes up and down the nearly deserted street. This was definitely one of the rougher areas of town and Frank knew his father would be furious if he knew where he was. But Frank didn't care, all he cared about right now was finding Joe.

Suddenly, a man came out of the store behind him and nearly knocked the boy over. "Sorry," the man mumbled distractedly as he reached down to pick up the newspaper he had dropped.

"That's okay," said Frank as he glanced at the man. His whole body froze.

The man was Miles Denton!

He didn't seem to recognise Frank though, and rushed up the street looking agitated.

Immediately Frank dashed across the road. "GUYS! COME ON!" he screamed in the door of the café ignoring the startled looks of the other patrons. The boys came running out.

"What? What is it?"

"What's going on?"

But Frank was already flinging his leg over his bike. "Come on, hurry!" he yelled keeping his eye on Denton who was now getting into an old Ford Mustang.

As the car pulled out, Frank tore after it, followed closely by his bewildered friends.

XXX

Joe found himself being shaken out of a fever-induced sleep.

"Joe! Come on! Wake up, please!" a voice begged.

"Wha?" he mumbled drowsily.

"JOE!" Someone shook him harder.

With superhuman effort, Joe cracked open his eyes. Kevin was standing over him, a frantic expression on his face.

Joe blinked and sat up slowly. He felt groggy and feverish. "Wh-what's wrong?" he wheezed and started to cough.

"You're getting out of here!" said Kevin as he pulled Joe to his feet.

Instantly, the boy was awake. "I am?" he croaked.

"Yes, now move!" Kevin pulled him towards the door.

Blinking and stumbling against the light, Joe followed Kevin. His head felt thick and his feverish mind had trouble processing how to move. It took several minutes for Joe to even realise he was in a basement.

"You're Fenton Hardy's kid!" said Kevin, as he helped Joe up the basement steps. "Why didn't you tell me you were Fenton Hardy's kid?"

"I didn't know it was important," Joe mumbled, then swallowed painfully. His throat and chest were on fire.

"Of course it's important!" hissed Kevin. "That's why he took you! He was never going to let you go…I thought he would but once I found out who you really were, I knew he wouldn't! He'll kill you if I don't get you out of here!"

Coming through a tiny, neat kitchen, Joe stumbled and fell. Kevin caught him before he hit the ground. "Snap out of it, Joe!" he hissed. "We have to get out of here before he gets back!"

Joe tried to protest but found he didn't have the energy. His body was weakened by days of abuse and neglect. The next thing he knew, Joe was outside. He inhaled deeply, then coughed and choked harshly. But the boy didn't care, the fresh air felt wonderful after his stale cell.

Joe's legs buckled again, but this time Kevin half-carried, half-dragged him across the gravel. Joe was dimly aware of his feet hurting. "I have no shoes," he said hoarsely.

"It doesn't matter, we're taking the car."

Joe then caught sight of the brown mustang and became aware that they were surrounded by trees. "Are we in the woods?" he asked.

"Yes," said Kevin, as he yanked open the car door and motioned for Joe to get in. Slowly, Joe crawled in. Kevin slammed the door and raced around to the other side.

"Couldn't believe it when I saw your picture in the paper," he muttered as he fumbled with the keys. "Then I saw you were Fenton Hardy's kid and I knew I had to get you out of here. I'm afraid of him, but not enough to let him kill a little kid!"

Joe closed his eyes and rested his head against the seat of the car. He was just so tired…

"Shit!" he heard Kevin exclaim as he made several attempts to start the engine. "I just drove this thing back here, what's wrong with it?!" The engine continued to splutter and stall before finally dying altogether. "SHIT!" Kevin cried again. "Come on, Joe. We gotta do it on foot!"

Joe heard a car door slam again. Then his own door was opened and he felt himself being tugged from the car. "Joe, if you want to live, move it!" Kevin's panicked voice sounded in his ear and Joe opened his eyes.

Determined, the boy forced himself to move. I'm going home, I'm going home, he told himself over and over as they set off into the woods.

They had been walking for just ten minutes when Joe noticed Kevin throwing agitated glances back over his shoulder. "What's wrong?" he asked, but Kevin never answered. He just increased his pace.

Groaning, Joe tried to keep up. His whole body ached and he kept cutting his feet on the stones and twigs scattered about the ground. Joe continued his mantra to entice his body to move. I'm going home, I'm going home, I'm going home.

Suddenly, Kevin stopped and spun around. "I heard something!" he whispered frantically, as he peered into the trees behind them.

Joe looked tiredly at where Kevin was looking. He couldn't see or hear anything. "I don't hear anything, Kevin."

Kevin put his hands to his head and massaged his temples. "Sorry, Joe. I have a headache and I guess I'm just overwrought."

Joe glanced at him, finally fully realising what Kevin was doing for him. "Kevin, thanks for helping me," he said softly.

But Kevin wasn't listening. He was staring through the trees again, a look of pure terror on his face. "He's coming! Joe, run! He's coming!"

Joe stared at Kevin, but he seemed beyond rational. "JOE, RUN!" he screamed and shoved the boy. "NOW!"

Frightened, Joe turned and ran in the other direction. He found it difficult to move without Kevin to lean on, but the sounds of muffled yelling was echoing behind him and Joe forced himself to run.

As he pushed through the trees, Joe heard a loud roar and then a voice bellowed, "JOEEEY!"

A/N: My brother left for Australia today and he's going to be gone for a whole year...as a result, I'm feeling pretty depressed and haven't the heart to thank everyone individually who reviewed the last chapter but I didn't want you to have to wait for this one either as I think you deserve regular updates. So I'm just going to say thanks a million for all the wonderful reviews. You guys are the best.