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 2002, 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 much credit and thanks.
Thank you to those of you who have left commentary and feedback; it is greatly appreciated!
January Thaw
By EvergreenDreamweaver and Sparks JSH
Chapter 14
Hearing Vanessa's cry, Frank spun away from his interrogation and took a few steps in her direction. Joe, also having heard his girlfriend's exclamation, came dashing from the other end of the house. Tony and Phil thundered down the staircase and leaned over the banister rail.
"Van? What's wrong?" Joe shouted.
Footsteps came from the back of the house where Vanessa had disappeared. As the boys watched openmouthed, she appeared leading a small child by the hand.
"Hey guys—" Vanessa spoke very gently. "I think we have a problem."
The little girl appeared to be four, or perhaps five years old. Very slender, with dark eyes and dark brown hair, which looked as it had not been combed for a while. She was whimpering softly, and her face was streaked and slimed with tears.
The man pinioned against the wall sagged suddenly, forcing Chet and Biff to grab him again. "Okay, who are you? My wife sent you, right?"
For all his macho image, Joe Hardy was a sucker for kids. He squatted down next to the little girl and gave her his most winning smile.
"Hi there. My name's Joe. What's yours?"
She sniffled. "Rachel."
"Are you unhappy about something, Rachel? You're crying…." Joe reached out and gently touched his finger to her cheek, catching a tear.
"I wanna go hooooome!" Rachel began to sob again. "I wanna be wif Mommy." She glanced at the defeated-looking man slumped against the wall. "He said he'd take me home las' night, but he diiiiiiin't!"
"Rachel, I will take you home—" he began, but Frank cut him off abruptly.
"Shut up! Where'd you get her from, anyway?" the elder Hardy snapped.
"She's my daughter, you stupid kid!" the man raged.
Frank glanced from one to the other, and was forced to concede the resemblance.
"Rachel, can you tell me what's happened?" Joe coaxed gently. He sat cross-legged on the floor, and patted his lap invitingly. "Come on, sit down and tell me."
Cautiously, Rachel perched on his knee. Vanessa sat down on the floor too, while Tony and Phil dropped to seats on the stairs. Biff and Chet relaxed their grips on the little girl's father, although they did not totally release him. Frank leaned against the front door, keeping his eye on the whole scene.
"Is this your daddy?" Joe asked, indicating the tall man.
Rachel nodded. "Yes….Him said – him said he would take me home las' night," she repeated. "An' I di'n't get my Happy Meal – he promised I could have a Happy Meal." She swiped at the slime on her face. Joe reached his hand toward Frank as if he'd been an operating surgeon.
"Handkerchief," he murmured, and Frank found himself reaching into his pocket to obey, mesmerized by his younger brother's control of the situation. Joe wiped Rachel's face off and continued his gentle questioning.
"You don't usually live here with your daddy?"
"No – I live wif Mommy. An' – an' I come to visit Daddy – but not here. Usu'ly at Daddy's 'partment." She gulped and looked around at the teens. "Why are you here?"
"We're sort of here by mistake, Rachel," Joe told her, "We were looking for a different house, but maybe we can help you get home. You want to go home, right? That's what you said?"
"Yeth….I wan' my Christmath presents!" Her voice rose into a wail of distress again. "An' Misther Rutgers is gonna be mad 'cause I wasn' there to sleep wif him las' night."
"Huh?" Joe cleared his throat and tried again. "Who is Mister Rutgers, Rachel?"
"My teddy bear," she whimpered, "he'll miss me."
On the staircase, Tony suddenly made a choking noise and ducked his head, fighting a laugh. Phil nudged him sharply, but the corners of his mouth were twitching too.
"Okay Rachel, we'll see if we can get you home to your mommy and Mr. Rutgers," Joe assured her. He looked up at the man Biff and Chet still held against the wall. "Care to explain?"
"She's my daughter," the man muttered. "I'm Allen Thomas, by the way. My wife and I were divorced two years ago – she got custody of Rachel. I work in the repair shop at the New York State Department of Transportation – you know, fixing the snowplows and stuff – but my hours were cut recently, and things are kind of tight, money-wise. So Denise – that's my ex-wife – said, if I couldn't come up with child support payments on time, then I don't get to see Rachel until I do." He glared bitterly at the Hardys and their friends. "I just wanted to see my daughter, damn it!"
"So you snatched her?" Frank asked coolly.
"Yeah, yeah….I wanted to make Denise mad, I guess – plus, I wanted to see Rachel. Because Denise is getting married again. Her new fella's some high mucky-muck in computers. And they're going to move to Chicago." His voice shook. "I'll never get to see Rachel then…the guy wants to adopt her."
Biff and Chet exchanged glances; without a word they released Allen Thomas's wrists. He sank to a sitting position on the hall floor and held out his arms to his daughter. She glanced from him to Joe; the younger Hardy patted her on the back and gave her a little push towards her father. Rachel moved from Joe's lap to Mr. Thomas's, and the teens watched as he cuddled her in his arms.
"I think we made a little mistake," Biff whispered.
Mr. Thomas looked up. "You didn't come here because my wife sent you?" he asked blankly.
"No," Frank replied quietly. "We're looking for someone all right, but it's not Rachel. We got the wrong house. I'm sorry about it – but Mr. Thomas, you know – this counts as kidnapping, even though she's your daughter."
"I know. So you guys are gonna turn me in to the police, right?"
"I wanna go home!" Rachel piped up.
"Mr. Thomas, if a couple of us go with you and explain the situation, perhaps we could clear things up," Joe suggested. He glanced at Chet and Biff. "You two could go. And perhaps if Vanessa and Phil, say, take Rachel home to her mother, she might be talked out of pressing charges."
Allen Thomas stared at him. "You'd do that for me?"
"Wish we didn't have to turn him in," Chet muttered sympathetically.
"But Rachel's mother was probably worried sick about her all night," Vanessa reminded him. "Wondering where she might be."
Chet sighed. "I know, I know."
Joe smiled at Rachel. "Would you like Vanessa and Phil – that's Phil, on the stairs, the one with the light hair – to take you home, Rachel?"
"Yeth." She nodded, and looked at Vanessa. "I like you – you're pretty!"
The others chuckled as Vanessa turned pink, and Joe caught her eye and winked. "Thank you, Rachel." She got to her feet and extended her hand. "Let's go comb your hair and wash your face, okay?"
Rachel happily departed with Vanessa, and the boys gathered around Mr. Thomas, who sat looking up at them forlornly. "I don't want to lose my daughter, kids. You don't know what you're doing to me!"
"Mr. Thomas, you knew when you took Rachel that you were breaking the law. But if you call your wife and tell her you're sending Rachel home, do you think it might smooth things over?" Frank queried.
"I can't call…the lines really are down." he answered. "That – and the fact that this house isn't where I live; it belongs to a friend of mine – are the only reasons Denise wasn't able to track me down right away."
Joe took his cell phone from his pocket and held it out. "Here – call her and tell her Rachel's coming home. And then Biff and Chet will go with you to the police station. If you turn yourself in and explain things…well, I can't promise anything, but—"
Thomas took the phone and began dialing a number, slowly. Vanessa and Rachel returned, Rachel looking much improved. She was skipping happily along, clinging to Vanessa's hand.
"Rachel told me her address," Vanessa announced, over Thomas' low-toned conversation.
"Yeth," the little girl said proudly. "I learned in ki'dergarten – my telephone number an' my addreth."
Allen Thomas returned Joe's phone and got coats from the hall closet for himself and Rachel. "Who are you guys, anyway?" he asked curiously.
Frank enumerated, pointing at each person in turn. "Vanessa Bender…Phil Cohen…Chet Morton…Biff Hooper…Tony Prito. I'm Frank Hardy, and—" he grinned a little. "that blonde guy who sweet-talked your daughter is my brother, Joe."
"The Hardys?" Thomas raised his eyebrows. "I've heard of you. Guess if I was going to get busted, I'd just as soon it was you that did it….Give Daddy a hug goodbye, Sweetie," he murmured to his daughter, and knelt, holding out his arms to her. She flung herself on him and squeezed him about the neck.
"Bye-bye, Daddy! I'll come back soon! An' nex' time I'll bring Mr. Rutgers along, and we'll stay a whole weekend, like before."
"I hope so, Rachel." He rose to his feet and looked at Vanessa and Phil. "Could you maybe buy her a Happy Meal before you get her home?" he whispered.
Phil smiled conspiratorially. "You got it!" he murmured, then more loudly: "Come on Rachel, we're going to ride in Vanessa's pretty red Wrangler!"
Rachel gazed up at him. "What's a W'angler?"
"It's a neat little jeep," Phil told her. "It goes in the snow real swell." Vanessa took Rachel's hand, and the three departed.
Allen Thomas gazed after them from the front door, watching until they drove away. Then he turned to the remaining teens. "I guess now it's my turn," he said resignedly.
"I'm really sorry—" Chet began, but the man raised his hand to stop him.
"It's okay; Denise said she wouldn't press charges if Rachel came home okay, but she already had notified the police. I guess if I go down and explain, things'll work out all right."
Chet, Biff and Mr. Thomas went outside, and Frank, Tony and Joe followed them onto the porch. "It's the gray Blazer," Biff pointed to his vehicle. "Looks like crap, but it runs great!" he added with a grin.
"Goodbye, Mr. Thomas." Joe held out his hand. "I hope everything works out okay; you have a cute little daughter."
"Yes, she is, isn't she?" Allen Thomas shook Joe's hand, then reached for Frank's. "Goodbye. And good luck finding whoever it is you were looking for." Mr. Thomas locked the front door, then walked down the sidewalk, closely flanked by Biff and Chet.
Bob put a box in the back of the nondescript van Sid and Rocco had arrived in earlier. Sullivan had ordered the three of them to pack up everything to be transported to the new safe house. Bob wondered why Sullivan didn't just kill the girls and that nosy detective Fenton Hardy, but when he had asked, Sullivan informed him that he would do the thinking.
He heard the slamming of car doors, and an engine start; then almost immediately afterward, a second engine cranked up. Two vehicles leaving at the same time was unusual in this neighborhood, unless it was those motorcycle guys, who roared in and out at all hours - unusual enough to make him look up. He didn't recognize either vehicle pulling away from the house across the street, but he did recognize one of the three guys standing in the yard. His heart skipped a beat – it was Frank Hardy.
Leaving the back of the van open, Bob ran into the house. Sullivan looked up as he loaded more supplies in a box. "What is it? I thought I told you to load the van."
"Frank Hardy is across the street with two other guys. I think one of them might be his brother."
Sullivan swore. "I don't pay you to think; I pay you to take care of problems. Well, Frank Hardy must not care about his pretty little girlfriend as much as either of those girls thinks he does." He raised his voice. "Sid, Rocco, get in here."
The two burly henchmen left the storeroom where they'd been packing away stuff. Sid dropped a box on the floor. "Yeah, Boss?"
"The Hardys are out there - about to discover us before we're ready for them. I need at least thirty minutes to get the essentials loaded and the girls out of here. You three do what you have to do in order to stall them."
Rocco smiled. "You want us to kill them?"
"Only if you have to."
##########
"So what do we do now?" Tony asked, as they watched Biff and Chet leave with Allen Thomas in Biff's Blazer. Phil and Vanessa had already driven off in the Wrangler to return Rachel to her mother. "This was only our fourth house to check and we still haven't found your dad, Megan and Callie. Do you want me to do the survey scam on my own?"
Reaching down, Frank scooped up a handful of snow and fashioned a crude ball. He slung it toward the fence in frustration. For all he knew Megan could be seriously hurt or dead by now and there was nothing he or anyone else could do. "No, Tony. It would be too dangerous for you to go alone."
Joe glanced about. "We're too exposed here. Let's go back to the van and discuss our options. We can cut through the backyard and not worry about being seen."
The three boys made their way around the side of the house. As they walked Tony put his hand on Frank's shoulder. "Hey, man, I'm sorry the plan didn't work. I wish it had been Megan and Callie in that bedroom."
Frank shrugged. "I guess I should be glad we were able to reunite Rachel with her mom. I just hope Megan's okay," he added despondently.
Joe, who was bringing up the rear, halted suddenly, hearing the sound of crunching snow behind him. He motioned for the other two to stop.
Frank frowned. "What's wrong, Joe?"
"I think someone's…"
Before Joe could finish his sentence, the boys were jumped from behind by three men. Joe landed heavily on the ground, but managed to twist about so that he was on his back, trying to gain leverage against his assailant. He didn't know what was happening to his brother or Tony, but he realized he would have to take care of this 300-pound gorilla before he could even think about helping them.
Frank meanwhile found himself face downward in the snow. Bright spots of color swam in front of his vision as his head was pressed firmly down, and the cold, wet snow slowly smothered him. He groped about in the snow, desperately seeking some sort of weapon, and was rewarded when his right hand closed around a solid wooden object that felt like a baseball bat buried in the snow. Without hesitation he grabbed it and swung backward, catching his attacker in the shoulder.
Tony was strong and athletic, but lacked the combat skills that both Frank and Joe possessed. Still, he held his own against his assailant until a surprise right cross broke through his guard and landed solidly across the left side of his jaw. Stunned, Tony fell back, landing against something cold and metal – a child's slide, as far as he could tell.
Joe kicked out, planting a solid blow to Rocco's ribs. The burly man grunted but didn't retreat, and rage flashed in his eyes. "You're gonna pay for that, punk." As if to prove his point, Rocco pulled out his gun and pointed it at Joe.
Sid yelped as the baseball bat connected with his shoulder, and released his hold on Frank's head in reflex. As the teenager turned over and tried to catch his breath, Sid wrenched the bat from Frank's grasp; then swung it into the boy's stomach. The air Frank had greedily been taking in was immediately knocked out of him. Darkness nibbled at the edges of his consciousness.
Bob meanwhile spotted a covered hot tub next to the house. Leaving Tony stunned on the slide, he quickly slid the plywood cover off the basin. The tub was empty – the water having been drained at the beginning of winter to prevent the tub from cracking – but even empty it would provide a convenient, temporary prison for the three boys while they made their escape.
He went back to Tony and picked him up bodily, then threw the hapless teen into the receptacle. He glanced over at Sid, who stood gloating over Frank. "Dump him in here. This will keep them on ice for the time the Boss needs to get the girls moved."
Sid looked at the snow-covered yard and laughed. "Keep 'em on ice, huh – really funny, Bob." He hauled Frank to his feet, dragged him across the yard, and tossed him in with Tony. "Rocco, you gonna finish up over there?"
Joe braced himself for the gunshot, but it never came. Instead, Rocco smiled nastily. "The boss said I could only kill you if I had no other choice. I guess I'll just have to give you something else to remember me by. Sweet dreams, Hardy." With that he pistol-whipped Joe across the left temple. Joe only had time for a small pained grunt before darkness closed over him.
Rocco turned back to Sid and Bob. "Come on, let's get back to the house."
"You wanna dump him in here with the other two?" Bob gestured toward the hot tub.
Rocco looked down at the unconscious teen and smirked. "He's not going anywhere," he laughed. "Put that cover on and let's go. By the time those two get out and he wakes up, we'll be long gone and Frank Hardy won't know where to find his pretty girlfriend."