Disclaimer: I do not own the Hardy Boys or any of the canon book characters, and am making no monies from this story. Any Original Characters belong to the author(s).
Note: This story was written around the year 2000, so technology is not as advanced as it is today. People still used landlines! Also it was originally co-written with another person, to whom I give all credit for the plot, and heartfelt thanks.
Thank you to all those nice people who have left reviews!
January Thaw
By EvergreenDreamweaver and Sparks JSH
Chapter 9
Joe and Vanessa watched tensely as the Hardys' black van disappeared around the corner of the supermarket building. They waited in silence, nearly holding their breaths, as the seconds ticked by.
"Why don't they come out?" Vanessa whispered, at last, without taking her eyes from the scene.
Joe shook his head, although he knew Vanessa wasn't looking at him. "I don't know. Frank's had plenty of time to deliver the goods…wait!" His hand shot out and gripped Vanessa's. "Look! There's their car—" He watched as the brown car slowly drove around the corner and across the parking lot. "Van, we need to follow them!"
"What about Frank?" she asked. "Shouldn't we check and make sure he's okay?"
Joe's teeth snapped together. "Darn! You're right – but this is too good an opportunity to pass up!"
Vanessa turned on the motor. "Go on, you see about Frank. I'll tail these guys." As Joe stared at her, dumbfounded, she unsnapped his seat belt and gave him a push. "Go on, Joe, or I'll lose them!"
"Okay, okay – but stay back far enough so that they don't spot you." Joe opened his door and got out. "And Van – keep in touch. You've got your phone?"
She nodded. "Yes – now let me go, Joe!"
He shut the door and stepped back, and the little Wrangler accelerated smoothly away from the curb as Vanessa pursued her quarry. Joe turned, and began walking across the parking lot, hoping he would see Frank coming toward him momentarily.
He's going to have a fit if he sees me, though! Joe thought. He suddenly realized that if Frank left, he would lose his ride, and quickened his footsteps. He had no desire to walk home in the bitter cold. Joe rounded the corner of the building – and immediately spotted the dark figure sprawled on the snow.
"No!" he gasped, and broke into a run.
Slipping and sliding in the snow, Joe hurried to kneel beside his brother. Frank was lying half on his side; his face was very pale, but he was breathing regularly, and when Joe felt for his pulse, he found it strong and steady. Very gently, the younger Hardy ran his fingers through Frank's dark hair, checking for possible blood. At the touch, light as it was, Frank stirred and moaned softly.
"Easy, Frank." Joe looked at his fingers; no blood. He felt in his coat pocket for his unworn stocking cap, and carefully slipped it beneath Frank's head so that his face was no longer resting on the snow.
"Ohhhh…." Frank's eyelids fluttered momentarily, and he groaned again.
"Easy now," Joe repeated. "You'll be all right."
Frank slowly opened his eyes. He blinked, staring straight ahead, then attempted to turn his head. "Ohhhh – ouch!" He started to raise a hand to his head, but let it drop limply.
"It's okay Frank, just relax." Joe kept his voice as calm and soothing as possible.
"Wha—what happened?" Frank murmured. Recollection set in: "Those guys – one hit me…."
"Yeah, you took a pretty good whack." Again Joe probed the back of Frank's skull; this time he felt a lump starting to rise. Digging in a pocket, he pulled out a handkerchief and filled it with a handful of snow; very gently he applied the makeshift compress to the swelling.
Frank winced and blinked again. "Joe? What're you doing here?" he gasped, suddenly realizing who was leaning over him.
"Picking up the pieces, evidently," Joe responded with a slight smile.
"You – you can't be here! How did you get here?" Frank struggled to sit up, his eyes now frantic with fear as well as dazed.
"Whoa now, it's all right…." Joe tried to hold him still. "Go easy, pal; you're not quite all here yet."
Frank clutched at his head with one hand and at Joe with the other. "How did you find me? Did you follow me here?" he demanded, panic-stricken, then groaned, and allowed Joe to ease him back down.
"I didn't follow you, Frank…" Joe hesitated a beat, then decided to continue with the whole truth. "I was here before you were."
"Before – but how—"
"Frank, listen to me…and don't lose it, okay? I know what's going on. I listened to the tape that was in the van – and I heard the phone call this morning."
"No! You can't! They'll kill her! They said if I told anyone, they'd kill Megan!" Frank once more pulled himself to a sitting position and seized Joe's arm in an iron grip. "They'll kill her!"
"It's okay, Frank, it's okay! Relax, it's all right." Joe carefully pried Frank's fingers loose. This is getting ridiculous! Between Vanessa and Frank, I'm gonna have bruises on this arm for weeks! "Nobody saw me; they left before I found you. Give me a little credit, huh?" He picked up the abandoned snow compress and handed it to his brother. "Hold this against that bump," he added, guiding Frank's hand to his head.
"I wanted to follow them – to find where they have the girls…." Frank mumbled, bringing up his knees and letting his head rest upon them. "I've got to find them!" He turned his head suddenly, and shot Joe a suspicious if groggy look. "How did you find out?"
"You left the tape in the van," Joe repeated gently. "And – um – I bugged the phone system in the house, after I found out what was going on."
Frank blinked owlishly at his younger brother. "Dad's going to kill you," he muttered, and let his head sink back onto his knees.
He's going to kill me? What will he do to you? "Come on, we need to get you home – unless you want me to take you to the hospital. Two knocks on the head in three days is about two too many! You may have a concussion."
"I wanted to follow them…." Frank repeated dully, making no attempt to get to his feet. "Got to find where—"
His words were interrupted by the soft chirping of Joe's cell phone. With a somewhat guilty glance in Frank's direction, Joe took it from his pocket and flipped it open.
"Yeah? Hi, hon…where?….Really? No, don't get any closer. They already have Callie and Megan; I don't want to risk you too….okay, keep in touch! Bye."
Joe closed the phone and met Frank's accusing gaze. "Who were you talking to?" the elder Hardy gritted.
"Vanessa," Joe admitted. "She knows about this too, Frank."
"Vanessa knows?" Frank nearly shrieked the words. "What did you do, Joe, take out an ad in the paper? Who else is in on this?" He dropped the cold compress and struggled to his feet, swaying dizzily.
Joe quickly rose too, and steadied his brother. "Listen, she's helping! She was able to follow those guys! They wouldn't be suspicious of her Wrangler, Frank; she'll be able to find out where Megan and Callie are!"
Frank stared at him a moment, then nodded and relaxed. "Okay…okay." Suddenly, he began to shiver. "I don't – feel so good," he admitted, and leaned against Joe's shoulder.
"Come on." Joe made a hasty grab for his hat and handkerchief, then piloted Frank toward the van. "It's not far to the van; you can make it…just a few more steps…." Attaining his goal, Joe helped his brother into the passenger seat and buckled his seat belt. "Let's get you home, right now."
Fifteen minutes later Joe parked the van in their driveway, and the boys got out. The short ride had done Frank some good; he had stopped shivering, and was fairly steady on his feet, but Joe stayed watchfully at his elbow.
"Dad's home," Joe commented as they made their way to the back door. "Looks like Mom's still out, though."
The boys went into the house, removed their jackets, and started toward the stairs, but they were stopped by Fenton's emergence from his study.
"Frank, Joe! How long have you two been gone?" Their father was scowling blackly.
They exchanged glances. "Um – I left at 1:45, with Vanessa," Joe answered.
"I left about 2:30," Frank chimed in. "What's wrong, Dad?"
"What's wrong is that someone apparently entered the house while we were all out – and went through the security plans I've been working on!" Fenton snapped. He re-entered the den and seated himself behind the desk; Joe and Frank followed him in. "Did you set the alarm when you left, Frank?"
"N-no, I don't think so… " Frank stammered. "I didn't know when Mom was going to be back, so I didn't turn it on."
"How can you tell someone went through the stuff, Dad?" Joe asked, glancing surreptitiously at Frank. "Is something missing?"
"Nothing's missing in the file, but the pages are out of order," his father replied. "And when I started checking for other signs of something amiss, I noticed that one of the phone-tapping devices is gone."
Again Frank and Joe exchanged somewhat guilty glances; luckily Fenton was looking down at the file folders on his desk and didn't see them.
"This is a terrible breach of security!" Mr. Hardy exclaimed then. "Whoever managed to get in here and do this is going to have the FBI down on his neck – not to mention the Secret Service, possibly the CIA, the other foreign powers' heads of security – and me!" He quickly leafed through a folder, located a list of names and telephone numbers, and lifted the receiver of the phone. "I'd better call in and report this…."
He had dialed several digits when Frank stepped forward and depressed the button to disconnect the call. Mr. Hardy looked up at his elder son with an extremely annoyed expression.
"You had better have an explanation for that, Frank," he said curtly.
"I do, Dad." Frank bit his lip a moment, then continued. "You don't need to start looking for someone who broke in here. No one broke in… I'm the one who took the plans and copied them."
Fenton stared at him in total disbelief. "You did what?" he snarled. "Is this some sort of joke, Frank? Because if it is, I want you to know that I don't consider it the least bit humorous!"
"It isn't a joke," Frank whispered miserably.
"Dammit, messing around with these plans is putting both national and international security in jeopardy! Not to mention international relations….What in the world possessed you to do something like this?" Fenton bellowed, leaping to his feet.
"Dad, I had a good reason," Frank pleaded. "Listen to me, please, you have to listen—"
"I don't believe there's any reason good enough for me to condone this sort of behavior!" his father cut him short. "You know better—"
"They're going to kill Megan!" Frank screamed at him desperately. "And Callie! Dad, someone has Callie Shaw and Megan – and they said if I didn't get them the security plans for this conference, they'd shoot them!"
Fenton froze, then slowly sat down in his desk chair, without taking his eyes from his son's frantic face. "Say what?"
"Listen—" Frank began to explain the situation, beginning with the strange phone call he had received on Saturday night. As Frank talked, the anger smoothed from Fenton's face, although he still looked unhappy. "…and so I took a copy of them – I thought I got the pages back where they'd come from! – and I delivered them this afternoon," Frank finished his story, and stared down at the floor.
"You spoke to the girls?" Mr. Hardy asked quietly.
"I heard Callie's voice on the tape," Frank responded, still not looking up. "I talked to Megan."
"I wish you'd come to me with this, son," Fenton sighed. "You've caused some damage – not irreparable damage, I hope; we can work through this – I hope – but damage, nevertheless. At the very least there will have to be some changes made quickly. Worst-case scenario: you may possibly have signed the death warrants of some major political leaders. And you must know, sacrificing the lives of multiple world leaders and jeopardizing relationships between countries outweighs risking two peoples' lives…even Megan's and Callie's."
Frank raised his head and glared bitterly at his father. " 'The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few – or the one – ' huh? Dad, I'm not Mr. Spock, and this isn't Star Trek. What did you expect me to do, just tell them 'go ahead and shoot my ex-girlfriend and my – my'—" His voice faltered on the words, and suddenly he grabbed for the edge of Fenton's desk, his knees buckling and his face drained of all color.
Joe, who had stood silent all through this, caught his older brother and guided him to a chair. "Sit down!" he commanded, then turned toward the astonished and alarmed Fenton. "What he neglected to mention, Dad—" Joe's voice dripped acid as he spoke. "is that those creeps not only took the plans from him, they hit him over the head and knocked him unconscious in the process!" He squatted down next to Frank. "Do you feel nauseated?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.
"No – no, just dizzy," Frank whispered. "I'm okay, Joe; I'm okay." He leaned forward and rested his head in his hands. "I've got a splitting headache, though."
Fenton moved around his desk and joined Joe at Frank's side. "It's all right, son," he murmured, stroking Frank's dark hair very gently. "It'll be all right…." He caught Joe's eye and raised his eyebrows inquiringly, mouthing the word doctor? over Frank's bent head. Joe shook his head, indicating no.
"I think you ought to lie down for a while," Mr. Hardy suggested, quietly. "We can discuss this further when you've rested a little—"
"I'm all right," Frank insisted. "Dad, you've got to believe me, I wouldn't have done it if I'd had any choice—"
"Dad – think about it for a minute," Joe interrupted. "What would you have done – if it were Mom?"
"You know the answer to that, Joe," his father replied somberly. They did know; Laura had been kidnapped in the past, and Fenton had been willing to try to move heaven and earth – and break any rules – to secure his wife's safety. "I understand, Frank," he added. "We'll work things out somehow." He glanced at Joe. "And how did you manage to get in on all this?"
"I found the tape," Joe explained. "And – um – that phone tap you're missing? I – um – I – it's outside. I'll take it off the line right away," he concluded sheepishly.
Fenton shook his head, unable to completely stifle an unwilling snort of laughter.
"Could you get those tapes – the one left for Frank and the one you made of the phone conversation, Joe?" he asked. "I'd like to hear them."
"Sure – be right back." Joe hurried out to the van to retrieve the cassette, then detoured upstairs to his room, where he grabbed the little tape recorder and its precious contents.
Fenton listened to both tapes with concentration, then shook his head. "I don't recognize the voice," he admitted. "I was hoping there might be something I would pick up; something to ring a bell – but no." He looked at Frank, who was still sitting slumped in his chair, head in his hands. "I understand why you did what you did, Frank. I can't really condone it, but I do understand. Now why don't you go lie down?"
Just as Joe was starting to assist Frank to his feet, the telephone on the desk rang, startling them all. Fenton reached to answer it. "Hardy residence," he said curtly. While his father talked – and from the one-sided conversation, the boys gathered it was someone asking him to take a case – Frank managed to stand, but he still looked very pale, and he leaned against Joe for support.
"Come on, let's go upstairs," Joe urged him in a whisper, but Fenton raised a finger to halt them. When he hung up the phone, there was a smile tugging at his lips.
"That was Callie's father, boys. Enough time has gone by that the police can take official interest in her disappearance – and the Shaws asked me if I could investigate it also. A little ironic, don't you think?"
Despite the gravity of the situation, Joe snickered, and even Frank managed a smile.
"I told them I couldn't, due to other factors—" Fenton glanced at the file folders on his desk meaningfully. "but I thought perhaps you two boys might be able to work on it."
Before he could continue, there was another interruption – this time the chirping of the cell phone in Joe's pocket.
"Hello? Hi! What'd you find out?…You did? Yessss!….Okay – okay….got it! Now get outta there and get home, okay? You did great, babe – just swell!"
Blue eyes sparkling in triumph, Joe closed his cell phone and faced his father and brother with a grin. "That was Vanessa – she's got it narrowed down to three or four houses! Oh, yessss, that's my girl!"