The Mystery of the Silent Girl
Chapter 3: A Clue
After the girl had disappeared the three decided to head back over to the garage where their car was still parked. The mechanic was washing the back windshield.
The dog Joe had been acquainted with before walked over to them and barked his greeting.
"Why that's the only friendly face in town," Frank said as Callie stooped over to pet the dog. The animal looked up at them and dropped an object that had previously been in its mouth. Joe bent over to inspect it along with Callie.
"What's the matter?" Frank asked. Callie picked up a brown cap and showed it to Frank. He looked at it carefully and was just about to take it from Callie when the attendant took it first.
"Dog's gonna drive me crazy," he said, "He chews up everything I own." He walked into the garage, taking the hat with him. Frank looked after him suspiciously. Joe stood next to his brother and put a hand on his shoulder.
"That hat," Frank said, "It's dad's, I just know it."
"It did look awfully familiar," Joe agreed. Just then a man in a police uniform stepped up behind Frank. As they turned around they realized that it was the Sheriff they had seen when they first came into town.
"I hear you got trouble?" he said.
"No sir, no trouble," Frank replied.
"I mean trouble finding a place to stay," the Sheriff clarified, "Have you tried Miller Springs?"
Joe grinned a little, "Everybody's pushing Miller Springs."
"You see we have to stick around here officer," Frank said, "We've got work to do in this area."
"Uh-huh, well you're in the wrong place for prospecting," the Sheriff informed them.
"We're students," Callie bud in, "Archeology. We're doing some research on early Indian life."
"Well uh, maybe I can be helpful," the Sheriff said, fiddling with the gravel underneath his boots, "I've dug for artifacts in my time. I think I've got just the spot for you to camp."
...
About fifteen minutes later the three were setting up their 'camp' just outside of Larksburg.
"Happy digging," the Sheriff called just before he left them.
"He's sort of nice," Callie said.
"Yeah well we just got the fastest bum's rush in history," Joe frowned.
"We better make like we believe it," Frank said, " He'll probably be watching us from that ridge up there."
"You don't think he bought the cover?" Joe asked.
"Hard to tell," Frank went on, "Everyone here is so...uptight," he paused, "They're hiding something."
"And if you're right about the hat, dad's right in the middle of it," Joe added grimly. Frank and Callie nodded.
"Well, at least we know our first move," Frank leaned against the tree they were gathered under, "The dog brought the hat out of the garage right?"
"Right," Joe replied with a smile, "That's my move Frank. As soon as it gets dark."
"Since when did you become a cat burglar?" Frank smirked.
"Hey, I learned from the best," Joe laughed and dodged a smack from his brother.
...
Under the cover of darkness, Joe set out towards the garage. He ran amongst the small amounts of foliage between their camp and the town.
Once he arrived at the garage he quietly snuck around back, making sure there was no one around. When he was sure the coast was clear he dug around in his pocket for his lock pick kit. He knelt down in front of the back door and set to work.
After a few seconds Joe heard a low rumbling and ducked down just before the headlights of a car shown on the backdoor. After the car had driven off Joe, without much difficulty, managed to unlock the door.
He opened it silently and moved into the garage with the ease of a fox. Joe clicked on his penlight and looked around the room. Inside were tools, tires and many boxes and barrels of various things. But what caught Joe's eye was the large, tarp covered object in the middle of the garage.
He walked over and pulled back part of the tarp. Underneath was a brown sedan. His father's car!
He inspected it, to be sure it was indeed Fenton Hardy's car. But Joe's victory was short lived when a large crowbar was smashed against the back of his skull and the younger Hardy crumpled to the floor unconscious.
...
Frank Hardy paced before the camp fire nervously. His brother had still not returned and he was regretting letting him go to the garage alone.
"You're gonna wear the dirt out," Callie commented as she watched him.
"Well where is he?" Frank replied, "I should have gone with him."
"Oh, c'mon Frank, he's a big boy."
"I know that. But what would happen if they caught him?" Frank stopped pacing and looked at her.
"Well, he'll con 'em," she smiled, "He's good at that you know."
They stopped their conversation when they heard a truck coming down the dirt road next to their camp. It skidded and swerved as if a mad man were at the wheel. Frank grabbed hold of Callie as the truck came hurtling straight towards them!
It turned in the nick of time, missing the couple by mere inches. But that wasn't what Frank was worried about. As the car swerved to avoid them a body fell out of the back.
"Joe!" Frank hollered as he and Callie ran over to the unconscious figure of his younger brother.
When he heard his name, Joe started to come around. His eyes fluttered open and he raised an unsteady hand to the back of his head. Frank and Callie helped him sit up.
"Joe? Are you alright? What happened?" Frank asked, concern invading his voice.
"I-I think I found it," Joe stuttered, obviously still feeling the effects of the blow to his head, "I think I found it."
"Found what Joe?" Callie questioned.
"Dad's car."
