Chapter 6
Pins and needles were the first sensations Joe was aware of when he started to come to his senses. That tell-tale tingle of having been lying in one position for far too long. He wriggled his toes to rid himself of the unpleasant prickly sensation and flexed his fingers.
"Hey gorgeous, you back with us?" someone asked, close to his ear.
He opened his eyes and found his lovely girlfriend smiling her sweet smile down on him, holding his hand. He grinned back. "It's an angel!" he said, but no sound came out. He ran his tongue across the roof of his mouth to try and coax up a little saliva and swallowed. He was extremely dry. It made him cough which hurt his side.
"Here," said Vanessa, her face disappearing. She re-emerged a second later and offered him a sip of water through a straw. "You had a tube in your throat for a while and they didn't take it out very long ago," she explained.
Finally, he felt he could speak.
"How long was I out for?" he asked, catching sight of the light coming in through the half drawn curtained window. "Wasn't it night time when I was bought in?"
"Yep. You've been under sedation for over 24 hours."
"24 hours! Why?"
"Dr Lyndsey thought your body could do with the rest to give your wounds a chance to heal."
"Why?" He asked again, bringing his hand up to his face to feel the oxygen tube that was tucked over his ears and under his nose and looked down at the drip-feed that was still in his forearm. He could see the black bruise ring around his wrist, a gift from the now absent cuffs. "Am I okay?" he asked, getting agitated. The heart monitor started bleeping more insistently.
"Calm down," Vanessa cooed, stroking his face. "Be still, I'll go get your dad and he can explain everything." She planted a kiss on his lips and quickly left him, which did little to diminish the building tension he was feeling.
Presently, the door reopened and Fenton entered. "Son, I'm sorry I wasn't here like I promised I would be," he said, sitting down in the seat that Vanessa had just vacated.
"That's okay." Joe said, taking in the image of his father's face. He noted that it was drawn down with worry, his eyes slightly bagged and darkly circled. "What's wrong?" he asked.
"Nothing to panic about, but you had to have your kidney removed. It was so damaged it was inoperable."
"I lost my kidney?"
"Yes, but you've still got the other and the doctor said it won't make any difference as you'll be fine with just one," Fenton said, and pointed a teasing finger into his son's face. "Just don't go getting yourself shot again, because then you would be screwed!"
Joe gestured to the water again and Fenton helped him to take another sip. When he had finished, he cast his father an enquiring look. "That's not all that's been happening though is it – Frank's gone, hasn't he?"
Fenton sighed. "Who told you?"
"You did, Dad, it's written all over your face. Plus, Frank not being here when I woke up was a bit of a dead giveaway."
Fenton laughed a little. "Nothing gets past you, does it, boy?"
"Help me sit up," Joe requested. "My back's aching with lying here for so long. And my head's aching at the thought of everything I've missed."
Fenton found the bed remote on the nightstand and started to slowly raise the bed head until his son was half upright and then plumped the pillows so he could lean back more comfortably.
"That's better, thanks. Now tell me what's been happening while I've been out for the count."
Fenton opened his mouth to start recounting the tale when the door opened again and Vanessa entered with a cheeky grin on her face. "Look who I just found lurking in the corridor!" she said and beckoned someone forward.
In walked an attractive, strawberry blonde haired girl, not much older than Vanessa, dressed in a heavy jacket, scarf and jeans. She was pulling off a woollen hat and batting her hair down. Joe's mouth dropped open in surprise.
"Nancy Drew!" Fenton exclaimed, jumping up to give her a hug. "It's astonishing to see you!"
"Not as astonished as I was to hear of what's happened to Joseph," she said, hugging him back and then going over to give Joe a kiss on the cheek. "How are you feeling, junior?" she asked.
"Like I've been shot?" he answered. "Tired, sore, but not too bad considering."
"How did you know Joe was here?" Fenton asked.
Nancy turned and winked at Vanessa. "A little birdie told me. I've been in New York visiting George when I heard, so I cut my visit short to come and see you. Where's Frank?" she asked looking expectantly round.
The room went silent and everyone started looking at one another. Vanessa didn't know if Joe knew so didn't say anything. Joe didn't know if anyone outside of the investigation was supposed to know so didn't say anything, and Fenton was plain embarrassed to admit that he'd let Frank run though his fingers.
"Okay," Nancy said. "It seems I may have touched a raw nerve."
"Tell her, Dad." Joe muttered. "This is Nancy remember."
Fenton sighed. "Frank's taken himself off. He's disappeared."
Nancy raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Wow! Why?"
"Why don't I tell you what I know, and then Joe can tell us what happened to him." Fenton offered. "And then maybe we can come to some conclusions – purely on a professional level, of course!"
Nancy pulled another chair up next to Fenton, and Vanessa perched herself on the edge of the bed. They patiently listened as Fenton retold everything that had occurred, not reacting in any way, apart from Joe when his father mentioned that he and Con were shot at. Finally, he told them about how close they had come to catching Frank, but how easily he had ultimately avoided capture.
Nancy smirked a little at that. "Underestimated him, did you?" she asked.
"Know this: I won't be making that mistake again". Fenton said, "I can only conclude that Frank really doesn't want us interfering and is determined, with whatever jumped-up feelings of responsibility he has, that he wants to sort the problem out for himself."
"What can be done?" Vanessa asked.
Fenton shrugged. "I'm not sure what we can do, he's disappeared off the face of the earth. He hasn't accessed his bank account, rented a car or left the country. Even his convertible is still parked down at the Marina. No clues, nothing. Frank really doesn't want to be found and is expecting us to butt out, so…"
"No dad, we can't just butt out!" Joe snapped, jerking up in his bed. He gave a loud yelp and fell back again with a groan.
Vanessa gave a little squeal herself and jumped up off the bed in fright.
Fenton quickly leaned over. "Jeeze, calm down boy, I didn't mean I wasn't going to help Frank!" he said sternly. "Are you okay? Do you need Dr Lyndsey? You look a little pale."
"No, I'm fine, stop fussing, I just forgot where I was." Joe ran the back of his hand over his forehead and took a deep breath. "Sorry babes," he said, taking his girlfriend's hand. "I didn't mean to scare you."
Nancy gave a nervous giggle. "Never a dull moment with you guys!" she said and then turned her attention back to Mr Hardy. "Have you contacted as many people as possible who Frank knows? My guess is that someone's hiding him. He can't simply be hiking about. He must have some cash on him, even for the short-term, he's very resourceful."
"That's what I'm hoping, " Fenton agreed. "Con and me have tried everyone in the book, but no one's seen head or tail of him. Even tried you, Nancy, but no one was answering at your home and I couldn't track you or Carson down."
"We're both out of state. You could have got me on my cell phone, but I switch off my work phone when I'm vacationing, and of course, you don't have my other new number. I've learned to my cost that vacations and work just don't mix so I keep them both separate."
"Quite," Fenton agreed. He turned his attention back to his son. "Are you up for telling us what happened to you?"
"Yes, I think so." Joe answered. There was a pause for him to get his thoughts in order, and then he began, taking them back to that night outside their suspect's home…
…"It's my favourite thing, a stakeout with my very best older brother!" Joe muttered.
"I'm your only brother." Frank pointed out, stretching his long legs out into the foot well and crossing his arms. "So unless Mom and Dad have been really forgetful, there's really not a lot of competition." He concentrated his gaze on the house on the opposite side of the road.
"Exactly, dude." Joe agreed. "But the thing I love most of all about stakeouts is the stuff you can do. Like, playing 'I Spy', and eating donuts!!" He leaned down and pulled out a fresh bag of cakes from the door pocket. "Want one?" he asked holding the bag out.
"I thought I could smell something pleasant – so unlike your car's usual sweet aroma. No thanks, they'll make me sleepy and wreck my concentration."
"Your loss." Joe grinned and bit down on his prize. "I spy with my little eye, something beginning with…H."
"Would that be 'House' by any chance?" Frank asked, throwing his brother a withering look.
"Yep, your go."
Frank laughed. "Okay then, try this one…"I spy with my little eye something beginning with…" There was a beeping noise from Frank's pocket. "…S saved by the bell!" He sniggered again and lifted himself up so he could extract his mobile from his pocket. "Hopefully it's dad texting me back to the office so I can get away from sticky jelly boy."
"Ha ha." Joe watched as his brother read the text message silently. "Is it dad?"
"Erm, not it's not. I've just gotta make a quick call. I won't be long." Frank said, opening the door and stepping out.
"Frank!?" Joe snorted in surprise. "Where are you going? We're on surveillance remember and you're drawing attention to us."
"I'll be back in a few minutes, be cool Joe," he said. Before Joe could say anything else, he slammed the door and walked briskly away, down an alleyway that ran between two properties. Joe watched as he reached the end and then turned right.
More than half an hour later, and Joe was starting to get worried. There had been no sign of Frank since he'd left the car. He'd speed dialled his brother's number numerous times, but it continued to just ring out, and there were no response to his text messages. Time was getting on. If their suspect left his house, Joe would have to follow him alone. He tapped his phone against his chin, deciding upon his options.
Frank wouldn't thank him if he phoned their father, and that would make him feel like a snitch. No, if Frank felt he had to go do something, he must have a good reason to. He decided to wait a little longer for him.
Ten minutes later and he was still AWOL. Joe decided to go and look for him. He exited the car and walked in his brother's footsteps down the alleyway and out the other side. There was no sign of him. Joe was starting to get seriously concerned now, as it was so unlike his usual 'do-it-by-the-book' Frank, and dusk was fast drawing in.
Assuming Frank would wait for him in the car if he returned, he took the right and walked a while to see if Frank was simply out of his eye-line down another passageway. Eventually, he was admitting defeat and even considering contacting his father. He turned to return to the car, trying Frank's phone one last time. Still no answer.
"Where are you, bro?" he wondered out loud.
Reaching his vehicle, he was so immersed in contemplation that he didn't take any notice of what was happening around him. He certainly didn't notice the dark windowed, mini-van a little way down the street.
He wrenched his Ford's door open, acutely irritated, sat back down and began to dial his father's number. Midway through, his phone beeped – he had a message and it was from his brother. He clicked on it and it said simply "RUN – don't wait for me if I'm not back – I'll be in touch".
"What?"
Immediately, he felt something on the back on his neck, something cold, hard and ominous that made his blood run cold and his heart drop to his stomach. He froze, and raised his eyes slowly to the rear view mirror. There was a hooded and masked man sitting on the backseat holding a pistol to the back of his skull.
The man addressed him evenly: "Slowly give me the phone and then place your hands on the steering wheel where I can see them."
Joe did as he was bid and rested his palms lightly down on either side of the wheel. "Sorry man," he said calmly. "You can have my car if it means that much to you."
"Very funny," said the man. "Didn't anyone ever tell you to lock your car?" He reached around and patted Joe's pockets to check if he had any concealed weapons.
"Plenty of times, but let's face it, would anyone want to steal this rust bucket? I mean, seriously?" Joe finally noticed the van behind him. It was backing up to the rear of his car.
The man held a pair of handcuffs over Joe's shoulder. "Take these and put them on," he instructed.
"They wouldn't suit me." Joe responded. The gun was cocked and pushed harder into his neck. "Okay! Take it easy!" he said and took the bracelets. He snapped one on and then went to snap the second on.
"Not in front, behind your back."
Joe did as he was obliged and then his head was forced forward against the steering wheel while the stranger tested them to check he'd put them on tightly enough. He squeezed each a couple of notches tighter.
"Very good, now get out, we're going for a ride."
"I don't think so." Joe said. "The only drive I'm going on tonight is the journey home. I'm hedging that if you're of a mind to shoot me, you won't want to do it here in such a public place."
The man made a gesture through the back window and the mini-van opened and two figures jumped down onto the road and strode up. One pulled the door open while the other leaned in and tried to pull Joe from his seat. He resisted and received a hard clout to the back of the head with the butt of the gun for his trouble. Stunned, he felt himself being yanked out and half dragged, half carried towards their vehicle.
He shook his head to clear the cobwebs and heard someone shout, "Is this a joke?" Immediately, someone let go of his left arm and the journey slowed down, enough for his brain to become lucid again. He pretended to pass out completely and became floppy, making himself less easy to handle. Whoever was hauling him lost their grip and he slipped further down towards the ground.
As soon as he was in a crouching position, he swung his leg around and took the aggressor off his feet, landing him hard onto the road. Joe turned to run in the opposite direction, but someone was already taking him down to the ground in a tackle and putting a hold on him before he was able to twist himself free. A further set of hands joined the last and he was pulled to his feet again.
Joe looked up and saw that the man they'd been following earlier was standing at the front of his house gutsily arguing with the gunman who was standing silently staring at him. One of the two men who had pulled him from the car went across, pointed into his face and said something quietly that shut him up.
"Call the cops!" Joe shouted out as he started to be shuffled towards the van again.
"Yeah, you do that," said the gunman, pointing his weapon straight at the Hardys' suspect. The gunman kept his gaze on the man until he heard a whistle from the driver to denote that Joe was in situ and calmly walked back and got on-board.