NOTE: Looks like I'll be wrapping this up in four parts. Thanks for the comments and I hope you enjoy the ride!
The Hardy Boys: House of Cards: Chapter Three
Frank had no trouble finding his way back to the club. It lay directly between Villa Rivera and the surfing club where he had spent the majority of his days since they arrived three weeks ago.
"When the club opens tonight we should go back to talk to the regulars," Joe suggested. "Maybe they can give us more on Lisa or maybe they saw someone follow you two when you left."
"Maybe," Frank replied lost in thought. "When we left, we went straight to the coast road." He drove passed the closed club and continued west until the ocean appeared on the horizon. "I remember we went around some sharp curves that were pretty hairy in the dark. We were talking so I can't be sure of the time but it was only a few minutes or more before we stopped."
He took a curve with more speed than was wise and the car fishtailed making Joe grab on to the dash.
"Slow down a little, will ya? You had to be traveling slower last night, so try to match the speed." That sounded like good detective work and not fear, so Frank complied.
"I remember this hulking shape in the dark and right after that she told me to turn. I wasn't even sure we weren't driving off a cliff until we came around this bend. . ."
"Hulking shape?" Joe pointed toward what looked like an anchor off the world's largest pirate ship. It was rusted and aged by the sea air and at the base was a sign advertising a restaurant with an arrow indicating the turn into the parking lot. It would have been impossible to see during the night, but in the light of day the entrance was obvious. Frank turned in, then rolled down a gravel drive and around a tight bend to a dirt lot. To the right was a short pier with a building that had obviously been condemned long ago.
"Could that be where they took you?"
"No, we drove someplace and I couldn't hear the ocean."
You could hear the ocean here as it pounded away at the beach and the pilings that made up the old pier. Frank got out of the car and Joe followed him down on to the beach.
"Frank? This girl?"
"Lisa."
"You weren't like . . ."
"What?" Frank turned his face into the wind and it whipped at his hair. "In love with her? Because I decided to have sex with her on the beach?"
Joe winced a little from the coldness of the statement. He wasn't a prude, but he still wasn't very comfortable discussing these kinds of things with his brother. "It's not like you, that's all." A hard wave came up further than the previous two, forcing Joe to step back rather than get wet. Frank didn't move. He stayed put, letting the salt water soak his sneakers and the hem of his jeans.
"Maybe I'm tired of being like me."
Joe had to forcibly restrain a moan. This was more of the same talk that had started the fight the night before.
Frank leaned down and picked up a piece of wood that had rolled in with the tide. "You know Dad is sleeping with Marguerite."
"What?" Joe laughed, than cursed as an unexpected wave caught him around the ankles. He jumped back but it was too late to save himself a soaking. "Where did you get a crazy idea like that? She's like our age and he's almost fifty. And besides, he's Dad!"
"And dads don't have sex? I'm pretty sure ours did, at least twice."
Which made Joe think of his deceased mother, another topic he wasn't comfortable discussing.
"Can we do what we came here to do?"
"Sure." Frank tossed the wood back into the sea then turned and headed to the car. At the last second, he veered off toward the old restaurant. He scooped up an object off the beach, gave it only a quick glance, and then threw it at Joe. Coming at him, Joe thought it was a jellyfish, but after he avoided catching it he realized that the tentacles were actually strands of clothesline knotted together. He picked it up and saw the blood embedded in the fibers. His brother's blood. It wasn't that he hadn't believed Frank's story but holding the proof in his hands made Joe sick. "Frank-"
"Come on. Let's find that building."
Joe was about to drop the rope but his detective training said, 'evidence.' He stuffed it in the pocket of his jacket where it lay heavier than the actual weight.
They drove up and down every street within ten miles of the cove mentally checking off every store, home, office and restaurant. After two hours they found a dirt road that took them up a hill and behind a fish cannery. Beyond that, was a building that resembled a small airplane hangar.
"This is it, isn't it?" Joe shifted in his seat suddenly not so interested in exploring. "Do you think she's still in there?"
"I don't know." Frank cut the car's engine then sat there a moment looking at the walls that had been his prison for one night.
"We should go find a phone, call Captain Rivera."
"Not yet." Frank got out of the car then slowly approached the building. Joe didn't want to follow but he couldn't let his brother face this alone, so he gathered his courage and fell into step
Entering the building was tough for Joe and it got tougher when Frank came to a sudden halt right inside the door. Joe had never seen his brother so rattled. The guy who had unflinchingly lifted the lid on Dracula's tomb was now frozen at the sight of an empty room.
"It's not how I pictured it. I thought it would be dirtier." Frank walked forward with faltering steps then stopped in front of a wooden post that was holding up the ceiling. He stooped down and dragged one finger over the rough corner edge. Joe stooped down, too and saw the streaks of blood.
"I kept rubbing my wrists against this post whenever I thought I could get away with it. Like when Lisa was screaming. I knew their eyes would be on her and her voice covered the sound, not that it mattered in the end." Frank pushed up to standing and scanned the big room. "They cleaned up after themselves. Didn't even leave a beer can on the ground."
"That's a shame, we could have gotten fingerprints if they'd left their trash behind," said Joe even though he knew fingerprints wasn't what his brother was looking for. "I think it's time we called police"
"In a minute." Frank moved deeper into the building examining every bit of nothing. Near the back wall he stopped and stooped down again this time in front of a hatch in the floor.
"Wonder where this goes?"
"Frank, leave it for the cops. Let's go."
"I left her behind once; I'm not going to do it again." He slipped his fingers into the handle opening and then, with a deep breath, yanked open the hatch. Joe stayed well away watching his brother's face for a clue but he couldn't read what he saw there.
"Is she. . .?" Joe inched forward then peered down into the hole. Nothing. Empty. No body. Joe wasn't sure if he that was a good thing or a bad thing. He decided on good. Lisa needed to be found for everyone's closure but for Frank to find her stuffed inside a cistern? That simply would have been too much.
Joe squeezed Frank's shoulder and kept it there as Frank rose up to his full height.
"Let's go home."
"Home meaning Villa Rivera?"
"Home as in Bayport."
"Not yet." Frank turned and fully caught his brother's eye. "I at least have to go back to the club tonight and see if anyone can tell me more about Lisa. Her last name, where she was living. She has family somewhere, Joe and they may not be worried about her right now, but they deserve to know what happened. Believe me, not knowing is much worse than the truth. If I can get a lead on her family and Captain Rivera doesn't need me, we'll go home."
"All right, but for now, can we at least go home to Villa Rivera."
"Let's find a phone booth first. Maybe the police can find something here that will help."
Joe doubted it, but he was glad for any excuse to get Frank away from this cold building that would certainly be the setting of many future nightmares.
Joe found his father sitting alone in the garden. The breakfast dishes were gone now and in their place were a large coffee carafe and a plate of pastries. Fenton had a legal pad with scribbled notes at his elbow and a stack of files in front of him.
"What's all this?"
Fenton looked up from the file he was reading. "You're not the only detective in the family."
Joe felt his face flush a little. "I guess you know we went out."
"Looking for the crime scene, yes. Captain Rivera told me you found it."
Joe pulled out a chair, sat down, then poured himself a cup of coffee. "It was just this big, empty storage space but I felt sick going in there. No Lisa and they didn't leave any other clues that we could see, just. . . " Forget the blood. Don't talk about the blood. Joe took a sip of the too hot coffee and was instantly sorry he did. "Wow, that's hot. So what's in the files?"
"Possible suspects. We pulled the jackets on non-natives who've gotten into trouble in the past. I like this one for Lisa's killer." Fenton tapped the file he was currently reading. "He's from Texas. Southern American accent but not too twangy," he said, quoting Frank's earlier observation. "He was arrested for assault a few months ago, but the girl dropped the charges. Few other run-ins for disturbing the peace, trespassing. He's a guy to likes to break the rules, that's for sure."
Joe waited for his father to hand over the file but after a few seconds it was clear that Fenton wasn't going to share the name or the photo.
"We can show his picture around at the club tonight, see if anyone remembers seeing him there."
"That's the plan."
"Oh, you're back!" Marguerite came out on to the patio and stood by Fenton's chair. "I was worried about the both of you. Is Frank okay?"
"He's fine." Joe said, but in his head he heard his brother saying that Dad and Marguerite were sleeping together. He eyed them both, looking for any sign that this could be true but he didn't see anything that wasn't there before. She was obviously genuinely fond of Fenton, but then he'd been a family friend for a very long time. Back from when he was a young soldier, before he was a cop in New York. Something about a military coup in a small South American country. Joe honestly couldn't remember the details since he'd only heard the story once and very long ago. He turned his attention back to the file folders. "You want some help going through those? A second set of eyes?"
"No. It's not much. I've got it. Why don't you go take a swim, burn off some of that excess energy. There's nothing else we can do until the club opens tonight."
"Okay." Joe got up and took his coffee with him. When he reached the patio door, he looked back and saw Marguerite put her hand on his father's shoulder. Perfectly innocent. Frank was nuts.
Frank would have preferred to go back to the nightclub alone but he knew that would never fly. For at least part of the evening, he'd have to tolerate the presence of not only his father and brother, but Captain Rivera, too.
They started with the bouncer and the bartender. Both remembered seeing Frank with the pretty, young woman but neither of them could add to what they already knew. They got even less as they worked the crowd, not a single person wanting to get involved with the police. Didn't matter. Frank would get everything he needed once Rivera and his father were gone. Then he'd be able to sit in the corner and listen. That's how he was going to pick out the guys who had done this, by listening to them party with their pals like it was any other night. One of the three might have been scared off by the crime, but the other two were show-offs. They weren't going to go into hiding even with a potential witness on their tail. After all, he couldn't identify them, not really, and with no body, no forensics, the chances of picking them up for murder were slim and none.
Bored with the official investigation, Frank wandered to the far end of the bar and sat down on a stool. He recognized the girl behind the counter even though her back was turned because she also spent a lot of time with the surfers during the day.
"Penny. Can I get a beer?"
"Sure." She turned and had no time to cover the surprise on her face. "Frank. What are you doing here?"
"Not getting a beer, apparently."
"Oh, sorry." She grabbed a mug and filled it from a large tap handle. "I thought you were going home today."
"I was supposed to fly out this morning but someone tried to kill me last night so I figured I'd stick around and try to find out who."
Penny set the mug in front of him but her hand was shaking so much the beer sloshed over the side. She cursed in Spanish then grabbed a rag to wipe up the spill.
"Don't play poker," said Frank and that confused her. "You don't hide your emotions very well. What do you know about it?"
"I can't." She tried to move away but he grabbed her wrist. "They killed a girl, Penny. The girl I left with last night." He leaned further over the bar as he pulled her closer so he didn't have to yell over the noise. "They kidnapped us off the beach and made me listen while they raped and murdered her. If you know who it was, you tell me."
Penny glanced around and saw something that frightened her more than Frank. With her free hand, she knocked over the freshly poured beer, dumping the contents over the bar where it rivered down into Frank's lap.
"Damn it!" He let go of her arm as he jumped back to avoid the spill but he wasn't fast enough. Penny took off as the entourage appeared at his side.
"Something you said?" Joe.
That's why she took off, because she was scared of the police, not one of the perpetrators.
"Look, we're not getting anywhere with this crowd," Fenton said, setting both hands on Frank's shoulders from behind. "Let's go back to the villa and get a good night's rest, okay?"
"Sure, Dad. Just give me a minute to wash out the beer." Frank slid off the barstool and shot Joe a look that said 'don't you dare follow me.' He cut through the crowd, then under the archway that marked the restrooms but at the last second he ducked into the women's bathroom instead of the men's.
"What are you doing!" Penny squeaked as Frank grabbed her arm and pulled her into a stall.
"I understand you don't want to talk to the police, but you're going to talk to me. You were surprised to see me and not just because you thought I'd gone home. You know something."
"Please, . . . " She slipped into Spanish as her anxiety level rose along with the pitch in her voice.
"English. Where are they? Who are they?"
Penny took a gasping breath then leaned in to whisper in Frank's ear. "After one o'clock tonight. Around the back, there is a red door. It's for private parties."
"And they'll be there?"
She nodded.
"And you're not going to warn them." Frank squeezed her arm tighter than he should have just to make to his point.
"I won't. I don't want to be involved. It's only because I speak English. I hear things others don't."
Because his abductors spoke English, so he knew she was telling him the truth.
Something was up. It wasn't the dirty look on the way to the men's room. That fit in with Frank's recent desire to cut the strings with his baby brother. But Frank agreeing to leave the club at the first suggestion? That was weird. The club was their only link to Lisa and the kidnappers and yet he didn't even protest when their father said it was time to go.
Joe knew he'd get nothing in the car, so he held his tongue and waited until they were back at Villa Rivera.
"Do you have to follow me everywhere I go?" Frank complained when Joe tailed him into his bedroom. "I'm about to take a shower and yes, it's big enough for two, but you wouldn't be my first choice of companion."
"What's up?" Joe asked bluntly, making no effort to hide his annoyance. "Did you find out something? Did you pick out one of them in the crowd? Recognize his voice?"
"No. If I had, don't you think I would have pointed him out to Captain Rivera?" Frank stripped off his beer stained shirt then threw it in Joe's direction.
"I don't think you would. I think you want these guys for yourself and that's stupid. There's three of them and two of them have proved they're happy to kill. Why would you walk into that alone?"
"I'm not walking into anything! And I really don't need advice from my kid brother." He kicked off his shoes, flinging one hard against the wall. "I'm not a child. I can take care of myself."
"Oh sure." Joe closed the gap between them so quickly and so unexpectedly, Frank didn't even have a chance to move. "Here's you, taking care of yourself." He grabbed Frank's rubbed raw wrist and waved it in front of his eyes. "If it wasn't for that guy's pang of conscience, you'd be at the bottom of the ocean right now with a bullet in your head!"
Frank yanked his arm away then gave Joe a shove in the shoulder. "If I die, I die. At least I went out standing on my own two feet, like a man. I don't need you anymore! Now leave me alone!" He marched into the bathroom and slammed the door hard enough to shift a painting on the same wall.
Joe just stood there, his brother's vicious words stinging like a slap in the face. "You do need me, Frank," Joe said aloud to himself. "And I need you. You gotta let me in."