Ezra Collig clasped his hands together and shook his head when Fenton stopped speaking. He remained silent for a few moments, taking in all the facts about Joe's mysterious disappearance. The elderly chief of Bayport police was supposed to be emotionally-detached about cases to keep himself sane, but Fenton Hardy was more than a parent reporting a missing child. In fact, the missing child was like his own son and he spent a number of sleepless nights in hopeful search of any proof that his death was a terrible mistake – and then another number of nights when he sat by the child's devastated father and consoled him, when all hopes were gone.

"Why," Collig finally broke the silence with the most obvious question, "why do things like this happen only in your family, Fenton?" his eyes were full of concern, but his face wore a warm smile.

"Fate?" Fenton's lips curved into a weary smile.

"Fate," the Chief snorted. "What don't I know about you that you've deserved such a fate? Okay," he sighed. "Told Laura yet?"

Fenton shook his head, "I… I'm trying to come up with a reason why we shouldn't do it yet, like we know nothing but the fact that Joe just- vanished and might as well be- you know… but honestly, I just don't know what to say to her."

"The truth?"

"I'll have to, eventually- though I'd love to know more to the story by then."

"Have you checked the intern?"

"Bates has. This seems to be the biggest, but only blunder of the guy – comes from a good family, graduated from a good university, has a good record of working experience-"

"He's so good that he's basically a saint," Frank interrupted sarcastically.

As much as Fenton shared his anger for the intern, he mastered all his composure to stay calm, "Bates will look more into him, but most probably it really was just a horrible mistake. Twenty two hours shift is no joke."

Frank rolled his eyes, "If you're so exhausted, then just get out of hospital until you're well enough to do your job!"

"I'm not justifying him, but he was helping to save lives in those twenty two hours, too," Collig said quietly.

"Well, I'm happy for the cured, but why did we have to bury God knows who under my brother's name?" Frank glared at him. "Why did we have to go to someone else's grave and grieve over some stranger all this time?"

Fenton and Collig looked at each other in silent agreement to allow Frank to let steam off.

"I don't care if he was tired, inattentive or just a moron. Because of him, we lost half a year. How many cases of missing people are solved after this long? Not too many, I believe? So now he's having a- how did you put it? – a good record of working experience while we're having what?"

"Life is generally unfair, Frank. And human factor doesn't make it easier," his father said as calmly as he could.

"Oh, now I feel better," Frank snapped.

Fenton looked helplessly at the ceiling. His usually calm and self-composed elder son rarely opened up to reveal his feelings, but when he did, it almost scared him. Joe was so much easier to react to – he'd be glad to get a high-five from his father when he was happy or to be pulled into a comforting embrace when things were bad, but Frank… Frank would rather accept a smile and be left in solitude in the same occasions, but there was no good advice for acting around him when he was mad. Why don't children come with a manual to make parents' lives easier?

The silence in the Chief's cabinet at Bayport Police Station fell heavy. The two elder men glanced at each other questioningly.

"Shall we try to identify the car?" Collig asked tentatively.

Frank nodded, crossed his arms across his chest and turned to look at the window, obviously withdrawn into his own world. Fenton watched him, trying to get through the invisible walls of his son's soul – only to realise he must be gutted about the same things: missing details in Joe's death case and losing half a year in lousy attempts to move on with their lives. He suddenly wanted to pull him into a hug and tell him that everything would be alright – but was Frank probably thinking him responsible for missing the details and losing months? Like he himself was?...

Over two thousand people go missing every day in the USA alone. Most of them are runaways who found safe and sound within days or a week. Some are innocent victims of crime who are found badly injured or dead. Some are never found at all. But cold statistic is terrifying when it comes to time scales: chances of ever finding a missing person melt with each passing day – and become delusive when days turn into months.

And the three men knew it very well. In his twenty years of investigating experience, Fenton found only one woman, alive after going missing 8 months previously. The other eleven outcomes of similar cases had much sadder endings.

"There is a road surveillance camera not too far from the store," Chief Collig said, looking at the screen intently. "So it was June 26th 2009, a little past 9-30 in the morning… luckily there wasn't much traffic then…let's hope we spot something…." he continued to click for another minute until a picture caught his attention. "Oh well, look here – the quality is not so good, but I think this is our mysterious car."

He turned the screen for the two Hardys to see.

On the black-and-white picture there were two cars on the road, one was a truck, but the other was a Toyota Rav 4 with two passengers in the front seats. Frank's heart skipped a bit as he studied the fair-haired driver. The picture was blurred, but he could definitely recognise his brother's features.

"Do you recognise the woman?" the Chief asked, nodding at the passenger.

The dark-haired woman next to Joe looked like a ordinary passenger – she didn't hold a gun to his head or did anything that looked threatening, apart from turning her head to the driver as if telling him something.

Fenton shook his head, "It's impossible to recognise her like that. Any other snapshots where her whole face is seen?"

Collig scrolled through the images and shook his head. "But at least we have the number of the car, let me track it down…" Moments later, his face turned grimmer. "Reported stolen on June 24th."

Things couldn't be getting any worse.

"Was it ever found?" Frank asked.

The Chief nodded slowly. "June 28th. Outside Chicago," he looked grimly at the two. "Exploded in the woods in a deserted area. No one was inside."

"The local police found anything?" Fenton swallowed, holding onto the last thread of hope they had.

Collig silently shook his head.

The silence was thick with distress of another dead-end.

"When are we going to Chicago?" Frank asked at last.