CHAPTER 11
A half hour drive later, Frank made a turn, swung the car to the left, and entered a property between twin gateposts. As they travelled on, a building appeared out of the gloom - a monolithically imposing house that had the look of a hotel about it.
Joe put into words what they were thinking. "Dude, is this the safe house? It's big…has the look of a hotel about it."
"It is a hotel," Frank confirmed and pulled up. "Big enough to house us and in a secluded location. The chances of us being discovered here are remote. It doesn't operate as a guest house now, unofficially. Officially it appears it does, at least where its accounts are concerned and online customer feedback."
Joe laughed. He guessed where they were. "You're way too clever, Dude!"
Frank grinned.
Fenton parked his car next to them, and they piled out.
The large front door opened and a familiar figure to the majority of the gang stood there. "Hello my dears. Welcome to the Oaklands Hotel."
"Hi, Mrs Holliday," said Frank and gave her a peck on the cheek. "Thank you for taking us at short notice."
"My pleasure."
"You know Con, Dad, and Joe?"
"And Vanessa." Mrs Holliday turned to James, "I don't know this young man though." She noted his uniform. "A police officer? You here to bodyguard us?"
"This is James, Con's son. He's become wrapped up in it too. I guess he's sort of Vanessa's brother now Vanessa's mom and Con live together."
"I say!" Mrs Holliday exclaimed and gave Con a broad wink. "Well done!"
"Thanks."
"James isn't just Con's son; he's a Police Detective and working undercover with us."
"What?" Con asked.
"Interim Police Detective," James corrected.
"Son, did you get promoted?"
"Temporarily."
Con gave him a back thumping hug.
Fenton put an arm around him. "Knowing Ezra, it won't be temporary; he doesn't award promotions lightly. Congratulations."
"Did he say he'd talk to you about it again?" Con asked.
"Yeah. He said the balance had been tipped by the situation, that he had me 'pegged'."
"Then it won't be temporary. He'll be tying up loose ends."
"We'll see." James said, clearly not as wholly convinced as the others. He turned to Mrs Holliday. "Nice to meet you, Ma'am," he said, and shook her hand.
"Hello, young man." She studied him for a few seconds, "I can see you're Con Riley's boy…oh!" she spotted Rebel, "Who's this then?"
"This is Rebel, he's deaf," Con told her. "He used to be a police dog."
"A big boy isn't he?" She bent forward to give his head a rub. Rebel licked her chin. "Oh ho! We'll get along famously" she said and smiled at him. Then she pointed at Fenton's shirt. "Blood?" she asked bluntly.
"Yes," Fenton confirmed. "I'll give it a scrub."
"I think it's beyond that!" She made a 'come here' gesture with her finger and Fenton bent. She angled his head toward the light from the hallway and inspected the wound. "Looks sore, but they've done some neat stitch work." She tutted, "You boys should take more care."
"Can't feel a thing. Anaesthetic's good."
She turned to the hotel. "Come on in, all of you. You look frozen. Nancy not with you?"
"Not this time."
"A tad worrying."
"It is," Joe agreed.
James leaned in to Joe to whisper. "This is the woman who crowned Frank with her handbag isn't it?" He lowered his voice even more. "The one with the police record, and the hip flask?"
"That's me," Mrs Holliday confirmed over her shoulder.
James cringed. She'd clearly been gifted Rebel's share of hearing ability.
Joe laughed, "Mrs Holliday hid Frank and Nancy from us during the last Pandora case. I should have guessed Frank would bring us here earlier, it makes so much sense."
Mrs Holliday showed them through to the lounge area where a log fire blazed, sending out warm rays. "Make yourselves at home," she instructed and glanced at Rebel. "Con, you can let Rebel off the leash."
Con bent, unhooked the dog, and Rebel trotted straight to the fire to curl up in front.
"Where's Nancy?" Mrs Holliday asked Frank.
"I don't know," Frank said. "Haven't spoken to her for ages."
"I beg your pardon?"
"They split up," Joe explained.
Mrs Holliday stepped up to Frank and stared at him. Then she suddenly bought her fist up, and bopped him in the centre of the forehead. He jumped in surprise. "What's happening up there you foolish boy, she's lovely!" She put her hands on her hips. "You'd better find the sweet girl, hadn't you? She needs looking after."
Frank raised an eyebrow. "It's what we intend on doing."
Mrs Holliday waved a finger in his face sternly and then turned to the others. "I've got hot chocolate on the go. Would everyone like one?" She didn't wait for a response and bustled out.
Frank's phone beeped and he glanced at his shattered screen. "Mom and Andrea have boarded their flight. They're fine, no complications." He slumped down in the wing chair he'd became accustomed to sitting in before, and pushed his long legs out to catch the warmth.
Rebel got in the way like a heavy and stubborn cushion so Frank used him as a foot stool. He crossed one ankle over the other and leaned back.
"Where are they heading?" Joe asked.
"Seattle-Tacoma International. Where they go from there's up to them. And if they're smart, they'll keep their location to themselves."
"Talking of smart, or being over smart. What the heck, Son?" Fenton asked. "What secret organisation are you a part of?"
"I'm not."
"You've embroiled us with The Network again haven't you?"
"Dad, give me some credit, it's the last thing I'd do. I created my own secret organisation. I wouldn't trust anyone else with your lives."
"Explain yourself."
Frank removed his feet from Rebel and sat up straight to answer, but Joe jumped in with his own question, "Dude, why do you get to keep your phone when we couldn't?"
"Because mine's untraceable and our lifeline. I can't believe I nearly destroyed it...and all you do is play games on yours."
"Watch it!" Joe protested, but then continued with his questions. "But seriously, Frank. Yours must be traceable; it's not as if the Pandora Posse had a problem tracing your number."
"I didn't make my number difficult to find. It's the SIM card I made untraceable not my number. I got tired of looking over my shoulder and invited them in instead…took a different approach, a less defensive one. You keep your friends close but your enemies closer."
"You told me you'd taken care of the Pandora problem, that they wouldn't be back."
"I know I did, and as far as I knew they wouldn't be. I still didn't feel secure though, something continued to niggle at me…call it instinct if you like. So I created a safety net for us just in case. A lot of hard work, but I did it." Frank stood up, "Come with me, I'll show you." He stepped into the hallway and called out, "Mrs Holliday?"
"Yes, my dear?"
"I'm taking the guys upstairs, that all right by you?"
Rebel raised his head for a second but then lost interest, snorted and returned to lazing.
"Please yourself, you hold the purse strings. Get poor Vanessa some warm clothes, and have your Dad change out of his revolting shirt. The only thing that should be wearing it is a trash can."
"Will do."
They trooped up, and followed Frank along the second floor corridor. He walked them passed a lot of doors, around a couple of corners, until he reached the very last door at the end. A took his keys from his pocket, selected one from the bunch and unlocked the door. He opened up, switched the light on and invited them to enter.
Inside, they found an empty room, empty except for six closets positioned against the walls. Frank walked across to the closest one and pulled the sliding door open to reveal a row of clothes. "These are yours, Joe," he said and then took a few steps to reach and open the next one where they found more rows of garments for every type of weather. He pulled down a long sleeve, button up tee-shirt and flung it at Fenton who caught it. "Get changed, Mrs Holliday's right, your shirt's a wreck. You may as well dump the jacket too." Frank regarded James up and down, "I should think Dad's togs will fit you. Lose the uniform, you won't need it."
He started to cross the room to another cupboard, but Vanessa tripped by and got her hand to it first. She slid it open to reveal women's outfits. "I did my best," he admitted. "But I'm not great with girl clothes. These are Nancy Drew's, yours are in this one," and he slid open the next door along.
"Whoa!" Vanessa said and looked through them. "Don't knock your taste," she said, pulling out a cute pullover. She checked the label. "Frank! This is designer!" she exclaimed and thrust it out at him.
"It wasn't my taste. I had a personal shopper's help. She worked from photographs of you. Glad you like them though. Makeup and hair stuff's in the drawers. I nosed around your dressing table, sorry to be such a snoop."
"I don't mind. It's gorgeous!"
Frank grinned. "That one's mine," he said and pointed at a stand-alone cupboard on the back wall.
Con turned to the final closet and opened it up to reveal garments he knew at a glance were in his size. Even the leg measurements looked right. His eyes dropped to a shelf - a feeding bowl, a leash, toys and dog food sat there. "My God, you even thought of Rebel. When did you do all this?"
"I've been working on it for months. I worried Pandora's box might be opened again so I wanted to be ready this time. Wanted to weaken their ability to use you guy's against me. Mrs Holliday has been happy to get in on the act; she likes the cloak and dagger of it." Frank turned to James, "I'm sorry I didn't cater for you but like I said, I didn't think they'd come for you."
"Don't sweat it, Frank."
"Well I do." Frank stared at James' feet. "What shoe size do you take?"
"Elevens, but I can carry on wearing my police issue boots."
"You take the same size as Joe and I. Problem solved."
Joe frowned. "But Dude, this have will cost a fortune. I know you got a hefty reward from the government, but they split half of it between Nancy and me. I know you didn't get that much, definitely not enough to do all this, and send Mom and Andrea off on an extended vacation on a whim. Did Mrs Holliday help you out?"
"Mrs Holliday hasn't that kind of money."
"Then…how?"
Frank shrugged, "Like I said to Mom. Money isn't an issue anymore."
"I know what you said, but you didn't explain," Fenton said.
"There wasn't time."
"There is now, stop prevaricating."
Frank's hand stilled on the door of Nancy's closet for a beat, then his fingers splayed, and he pushed to glide it slowly shut, He turned his head away, but didn't drop his arm. "Remember how I recreated the Pandora game, so the Posse would be fooled into believing I'd given them the memory stick, when really I gave them a mock-up?"
"Yeah."
"Turns out I've a talent for it. I've been designing game apps on the side. I sell them to a distributer and receive a percentage of the profit for every game downloaded, and I get advertising revenue. They're selling well. It's given me more than a regular income. After the first one took off, I hired a team of online developers who work on my ideas. I didn't say anything because I didn't want you to treat me differently. I ploughed the Pandora reward money into it and it paid off, and I ploughed that money into this. Nothing to do with Arthur Gray or The Network."
"You serious?"
Frank's head tipped so he could look at them peripherally rather than face on. "My therapist encouraged me to take up a hobby, something with nothing to do with detective work. I chose game design. It took off so quickly, shocked me. And the money? It's crazy. I didn't want it to alter the team dynamics so I said nothing. I didn't want to unbalance us. I guess it will now."
"Which games did you design I might have heard of?" Vanessa asked, her professional interest peaked.
"Diamante Drop, Junk-it Junker, Hoppy the Hamster—"
"Hoppy the Hamster? No way!"
"Even I've heard of Hoppy the Hamster," Con said. "Half the kids you see are wearing Hoppy the Hamster t-shirts."
They regarded him with new eyes and Frank turned his head away again. "You see, that's what I didn't want to happen, the way you're looking at me like I grew a new head. I don't want you to treat me differently. I'm a PI and always will be. The app thing's a hobby gone mad until I get bored of it. I didn't want to tell you."
"I'm proud of you son," Fenton said and stepped forward to pat him on the back. "You don't have to be embarrassed about it."
"Yeah, it's cool, Dude," Joe agreed and laughed. "You're SUCH a geek though."
Frank finally turned, leaned back against Nancy's closet, and crossed his arms. "Says the guy on Level 6 of Hoppy the Hamster, with four carrots on each game, and a full set of bonus sunflower seeds - not such a jock you won't play the game, huh?"
"How do you—"
"I get sent the leader board stats. Bro, you need to get a life! And don't think I didn't read the negative feedback you left because you couldn't get Hoppy out of Carrot Warren's maze…and pay for the full game, you tight ass."
"I'm not lining your pockets any more than I already have!" Joe snapped. He commenced to lift his pullover to reveal a Hoppy the Hamster T-shirt underneath. "I expect family-rates next time."
-o0o-
Mrs Holliday yelled up the stairs for them to come down. She had food ready to serve at the dining room table. Joe charged the stairs. He expected to be the first in the room, but Frank already sat at the table with his phone laid next to his place setting. Joe chose to sit in the chair directly across the table from him.
Everyone else wandered in one at a time to join them as Mrs Holliday busily sat plates down. "Well, don't you look pretty," she said to Vanessa as she came in.
"Thank you."
"I've spoken to Ezra," Frank said. "All quiet at the station - no more gun play. I think we removed ourselves from Bayport at the best time. At least the general populace will be safer."
"Did he say anything about your phone, if they managed to locate where the calls are coming from?" Fenton asked.
"No luck. I didn't think the Posse would be so stupid as to make themselves so visible. They didn't manage to run the car attackers to ground either. They exited their car seconds before you hit it, and disappeared into the back streets. I think you'd be dead if you hadn't driven at them like you did. Apparently their car rolled forward, they were gonna follow you; they weren't giving up." Frank turned to his Dad. "Ezra asked me to pass on his compliments for an inspirational plan."
"Can't take credit for Con's idea. I just went for it."
"Either way. Great team work." Frank took a bite of his food. "I know it's late but I think we should share what we found out today."
"Well, nothing from Con and I," Fenton began. "Unless you want to include the fact the Pandora Posse don't care who gets hurt in order to get what they want, and their preferred gun's a Beretta 92. Mind you, I'm not sure they care what weapon they use, so long as it does the job." His hand strayed to his head and he ran his fingers along his stitches and grimaced.
"You okay, Flash?" Con asked.
"I think the anaesthetic's wearing off." Two painkillers dropped in front of Fenton as if by magic along with a glass of water.
"Thanks, Mrs Holliday."
"You're welcome, Fenton. The shirt looks nice by the way. Shows off your, you know, your bumps and such like...muscles."
Con had taken a good mouthful of coffee and started to snort. He had to force himself to swallow for fear of spray painting coffee all over everyone, it made matters worse.
"Erm, thanks?" Fenton said and shot Frank a look. He quickly passed his glass of water to Con to help dampen down the hoarse coughing. "Here, drink this."
The corner of Joe's mouth lifted up.
Frank shrugged slightly and waited for the Con to get his throat under control before he said to James, "What about you, James. It didn't escape my notice you don't have the phones with you. Did they get left behind in the rush?"
"I didn't have them, couldn't find 'em, they weren't there."
Frank's fork hit his plate as he lowered it with a clatter. "Not there?"
"I pulled the files out of the drawer, the bottom's empty. The chargers were there but not the cells. I even checked the other drawers." He turned to Joe with a grin. "Did you come up with the titles for those casefiles?"
"Did you like 'em?"
"Awesome!" He half stood to reach across the table to high-five Joe, and then turned to Frank. "There were files for all your cases, but nothing for Pandora. Should there be one?"
"Yes, 'The Mysterious Nature of Pandora's Box'."
"Well, that's missing too. I think someone's been…wait…what's it called?"
Frank sighed. "'The Mysterious Nature of Pandora's Box'."
James laughed loudly and Joe sniggered. "Classic!" He looked at Joe and shook his head. "As I said, I think someone has been in your office and taken them. Did you leave anything useful in the file?"
Frank answered, "Not the code. So if they thought they would get some clues from it, they were disappointed. It included where Nancy Drew and I found the four sections of code, but Ezra arranged to have the three plaques removed for me months ago. Oh, and…erm…I did something unforgivable and tore the page out of the book at the library which contained the forth portion of the code."
"FRANK!" Fenton exclaimed, appalled.
Frank's hands came up. "I know, I'm not proud, but I didn't want to leave anything for anyone to find."
Fenton shook his head.
Frank continued, "But the final four digits of the code would still have been on those phones even with the page torn from the book. Dammit!" His head turned on one side and a pained expression spread across his face. He leaned forward on the table and put his hands over his eyes.
Joe frowned.
"Frank?" Fenton said, and touched his arm.
