CHAPTER 14

When Joe hadn't arrived at the museum, Frank was beginning to get worried. Glancing at his wristwatch for the umpteenth time, he noted it had been more than an hour since he dropped Joe off at Biff's place. How long would it take to send Biff's homework and get to the museum? After his conversation with Mr. Winston, he couldn't wait to tell Joe what he had discovered.

Maybe he's gone straight home, Frank thought, trying to assure himself. He climbed into the van and started the engine, forcing himself not to worry. He reached for the mobile phone and called Biff's number and his friend told him Joe had left almost half an hour ago.

"Did he say where he went?"

"I thought he was going to see you," Biff replied.

Frank felt the churning in his stomach. "He didn't."

"What are you going to do?"

"Find Joe."

"How can I help?"

"Call Con Riley," Frank told Biff. "I don't have time to explain everything now, but I think something's happened to Joe."

"Dude, you don't have to explain. I've heard everything from Joe and Morgan."

Frank was puzzled for a moment. "How did you find Morgan?"

"Uh, I d-didn't," Biff said. "Joe talked to her a while ago."

"So, Morgan is still at your place the whole time?"

Biff cleared his throat. "Err, yeah. You want to talk to her?"

Again, Frank tried to comprehend what had transpired at Biff's place. Joe was worried that Biff didn't come to school, but how did Morgan end up at Biff's? Another time for a full story, he thought. Joe must have cleared Morgan if he had left her there.

"Not right now, Biff," Frank answered. Right now, his priority was to find his brother.

After he hung up the phone, he swerved the van into the street. For inexplicable reasons, he couldn't overcome his uneasiness that he started experiencing a faint ringing in his ears — and it was disrupting his focus. He checked the van radio and saw it was turned off. The mobile phone was not ringing. Just great. Now, he was hearing things.

Soon, the van turned to a quiet street lined with maple trees. The Hardy's rambling old Victorian house came into view seconds later. After Frank finally parked at the driveway and got out of the van, he found the silence in the house soothing. However, to his dismay, the house was empty. Joe wasn't home. His mom was at the historical society. The uneasiness he'd felt earlier intensified.

But doubt began setting in. Maybe his brother had found a new clue and became distracted and lost track of time, he reasoned again.

Walking out of the front door, Frank checked his jacket pockets before he returned to the van. Better be safe than sorry. If Joe was in trouble, the next course of action was to track down the gray Dodge. Whoever was driving that car was the key to this mystery. Glad he had something to work on, he climbed back into the van and started the engine. Before he pulled out of the driveway, he called Con Riley on the mobile phone. A dull static noise of radio interference came from the phone. He rolled down the window to get a clearer signal.

"Have you put out a BOLO on the gray Dodge?" Frank asked when Con answered the call. He massaged the side of his head, feeling the coming of a major headache. It felt like a rhythmic beat, pounding in waves inside his head.

"Yes, we did," Con replied. "There are reports of a few incidents at Oak Street. People in that neighborhood complained about a series of vandalism — flower beds, mailboxes and garbage bins were trampled and destroyed. A gray Dodge was witnessed leaving the scene."

"Oak Street," Frank murmured. That was just a block away from Biff's home. "When was this?"

"Ten to fifteen minutes before noon today."

That confirmed the time Joe had left Biff's home. Someone driving that Dodge had gotten Joe. "Con, it's important that we locate that Dodge. I think Joe's been kidnapped."

"How can you be sure?"

"Joe went to Biff's place this morning. He was going to meet me at the museum but he didn't show up. I'm going to look for him now."

"The car that hit Callie is registered to Morgan Bailey. She might have kidnapped Joe."

"No, she was at the museum when Callie had the hit-and-run. The CCTV recording at the museum can prove it. Anyway, Biff will explain everything to you later. I have to go now, Con."

After disconnecting the call, Frank backed down the driveway and drove out onto the street. He wanted to re-trace the steps Joe would have taken after the latter had left Biff's house. The queasiness in his gut grew stronger that he felt nearly nauseous and dizzy — in tandem with the ringing in his ears. Maybe it's something I ate this morning, he reasoned to himself. This sudden bout of illness was nothing like he ever felt before. Maybe I'm coming down with a cold. Or a migraine. Tinnitus — that's got to be it. It would explain why he couldn't stop hearing the rhythmic beat inside his ears. The beat sounded like it was growing louder, which didn't make sense because the radio was turned off and there was no other sound outside the van except for the usual traffic sounds. Man, I really need to get my ears checked out. It had to be soon, because he felt like he was going crazy.

The van swerved slightly, almost heading for the ditch that was on the side of the road. His hands clutched the wheel in a tight grip when he nearly lost control of the van. Come on. Focus, he told himself over and over.

A small patch of woods covered the right side of the road, while on the left side was a recreational park that spanned the whole block. Three more blocks to go. He made a mental calculation. In eight minutes, he would arrive at Oak Street. For the moment, he had to survive this journey without getting himself killed.

A sudden high pitch ringing pierced his hearing. He clapped his hands over his ears until he realized his hands weren't on the steering wheel. That split second mistake was all it needed as the van veered to the shoulder on the right.

Frank grabbed the wheel a little too late when the shock absorber kicked in as the van plowed over uneven ground and plunged into the ditch. His head hit the steering wheel on impact. The van shuddered to a stop.

Feeling disoriented, Frank took a moment to close his eyes and inhaled deeply. The pounding in his head worsened. He unfastened the seatbelt in daze. The driver's door was opened. Did he open the door? Or was it already opened? He couldn't remember.

A shadow of movement caught his peripheral vision. Someone dressed in black from head to toe was standing at the driver's side, clamping a hand on his left arm in a vise-like grip.

"Hey!" Frank said, trying unsuccessfully to dislodge the grip. He was feeling absolutely woozy. Something hard slammed against the side of his head. In an instant, he succumbed to the total darkness.

–o–

When Joe slowly came to, he felt his whole body was cramped and smothered as if he hadn't moved for hours. His head felt too big and heavy. The throbbing pain at the back of his head was a fuzzy reminder of what had happened earlier. He opened his eyes, and was hit by the brightness of the sun. He shut his eyes in an instant. Then he tried opening them again, slowly. This time, instead of looking up, he looked down. His heart sank to his stomach when he saw cars and vehicles moving like miniature toys. He was suspended in the air over a hundred feet from the ground!

He wasn't afraid of heights, but this nearly caused him a wave of vertigo. Above the treetop, there were other movements in the distance — a frenzied motion of colorful ant-like shapes, which he assumed were people moving about in front of the museum, the storefronts and restaurants.

Everything felt numb when he saw his body was tied up with ropes from his chest to his ankles like some kind of mummy. He twisted his body and turned his head, craning his neck to see behind him. Not only he was tied up, he was hooked to an extension boom of a crane. Someone was operating the crane because he felt a rush of wind through his hair as the crane slowly swung toward a familiar tower structure.

From above, he could see the rows of mirrors were tilted up, as if worshiping him. The blinding sunlight reflecting off them was hurting his eyes. Feeling dread, he realized what was happening to him and where he was right now.

The crane was swinging him to the solar receiver on the tower. He tried to remember how the system worked. Didn't Dana say the temperature could reach over a thousand degrees when the reflecting light hit the receiver? In this instance, he was going to be the receiver. He swallowed his fear.

Fortunately, the sky was clear and cloudless. An ideal moment for generating electricity. Unfortunately for him, this was not an ideal moment. He was trussed up like a turkey, waiting to be baked — like in an oven. A solar-powered oven. The thought was terrifying. He certainly didn't want to find out the outcome. At least, the turkey was dead when it was cooked.

The crane stopped moving when he was dangled in front of the receiver — all the reflecting lights from the thousands of mirrors were on him. It felt like someone had shone a giant spotlight right in front of his face. Someone climbed out of the operator's cab. Joe squinted his eyes to look. From this height, that someone was just a dark blob to him.

"Help!" Joe called out. "Somebody help me!"

Joe could have sworn that person waved at him from below. Instead of putting him down, that person strolled toward the Meru, Inc. building. By this time, the glare from the mirrors were too intense and torturous that he had to shut his eyes — and he prayed that someone would notice him up here before he combusted into charcoal.