J.M.J.

Thank you for reading and reviewing! I'm sorry I didn't get this out yesterday when I was supposed to. I had a lot going on, so I couldn't get to it. I hope you enjoy! God bless!

Chapter 8

The dog's jaws closed around the iron poker, receiving a jabber of pain from it as it backed up to try to see a better way to attack the girls.

"Bad dog!" George told it sternly. When the only response that earned was a growl, she turned to Bess. "Let's see if we can back it up into the bathroom."

That was the nearest enclosed room and so it was the best choice for a place to trap the dog. Bess wasn't at all sure that she could manage this, but the dog wasn't eager to run into the poker again. Although it kept its hackles raised, it backed up as the girls advanced on it. Finally, they were able to get it into the bathroom, and George slammed the door on it.

Bess sighed dramatically as she dropped the poker. "I can't believe that actually worked. I thought for sure we were going to be killed."

"Well, we've still got to deal with him." George nodded at the unconscious man. "And that's going to be a lot harder. He won't stay if we just lock him in a bathroom. We'll have to find a way to tie him up."

It took a moment to find anything, but then Bess noticed that the curtains were tied back with short pieces of jute. She pulled these off, and she and George tied the man's wrists and ankles just as he was starting to come to.

"Are you okay?" Bess asked him, as she and George helped him to sit up against the wall.

"You hit a guy over the head and then ask him if he's okay?" The man grimaced.

"Look, we didn't really have a choice there," George told him. "You've backed us into a corner, so our options are limited. But here's the thing. We need to know what's going on around here and where our friend is, and you can tell us that, I'm sure."

The man shook his head, although he winced at the effort. "Can't tell you anything."

"That's ridiculous," George insisted. "You have to know something about what's going on."

"Whether I do or not doesn't matter. I can't tell you anything."

Bess and George glanced at each other. They didn't really have any way to force him to talk. If they tried to threaten him somehow, he might call their bluff, and of course, they weren't really willing to carry any threats out. The only thing they could threaten him with was the law.

"It's going to go a lot worse for you if you don't help us out," Bess told him.

"That's only if the police get to me. The real police, that is."

"We already caught you," George reminded him.

"You have me tied up," the man corrected her. "You haven't gotten me away from Paradise Valley, and there's no way that you're going to. You might as well surrender now. It will go better for you if you do."

"That's not the way we see it," George retorted. "But if you don't think we're going to get away, there's no reason not to talk to us. What harm can it do?"

"It can get us all killed, but then I don't suppose you have much of a chance even as it is. And I doubt you care much about me, but I'd rather not be killed, if I can help it."

George frowned as she tried to think of something she could say that would persuade him, but Bess's eyes were wide.

"The people you work for would kill you?" she asked, aghast. "Why would you work for someone like that?"

The man guffawed. "You don't belong in a situation like this if you don't understand that. How did you wind up here?"

George shook her head before Bess could say anything. "You're the one who's tied up. You're going to answer our questions, not the other way around."

"Well, then, we're in for a long silence," the man replied, settling himself against the wall. "But don't worry. It won't be too long before someone else finds us here."

NDHBNDHBND

Boarding the plane now. Ned glanced at the text from Frank and then at the time on his phone's screen. It was still only a quarter after seven in the morning. At such short notice, Frank and Joe hadn't been able to get an optimal flight. It had a rather long layover in Des Moines, so it would be one in the afternoon before they arrived in River Heights. They certainly wouldn't be here in time to help with the current mission.

Captain Dawson had determined to go right to Paradise Valley and start asking questions. Carson wanted to go along with him, since he still thought that the small town was the best place to get answers about Nancy and the others. For the same reason, Ned and Fenton had also come along. They were just passing out of cell reception when the text came through. In fact, Ned didn't have time to reply before the rection was gone.

"That's strange," Ned muttered, looking around him. The land was fairly flat. There were no hills or anything else that could explain going sharply from a moderately strong signal to none at all. Ned pointed this out to his companions.

"I don't like the sound of that," Fenton replied. "That sounds like they might be using some kind of signal blocker."

"Then maybe it would be better if we didn't all go charging straight in," Carson suggested.

They spent a few minutes debating that. They decided that they should be secure enough in staying together, since if there was anything criminal going on, those responsible would want to deflect suspicion from Paradise Valley. Any more mysterious disappearances there would do the opposite of that.

A few minutes later, they pulled up in front of the police station. They found Meyers inside, and from the twitch of his lips, it seemed to annoy him that Dawson immediately asked to speak to his superior officer.

"He isn't available," Meyers replied. "In fact, he's out of town. This whole kidnapping thing came along at a bad time for us, but from what we've been able to find, Swift never did come into Paradise Valley and those girls left, so I really do think it's a dead end here."

"Maybe," Dawson said, "but we've still got some questions. There are a few things that aren't adding up. I think this is important enough to disturb your superior. What is his name?"

"With all due respect," Meyers said coolly, "I don't think it is. I'd like to help, but there simply isn't anything I can do."

"It would be best for everyone for you to cooperate," Dawson replied. "Surely all your high-ranking officers can't be on vacation at once?"

"They aren't, as a matter of fact," Meyers replied. "We're a small police force. We only have a chief and four officers. Of those, I'm the only sergeant. But you see, our chief is recovering from surgery. It really does need to be very important for me to bother him."

"I understand," Dawson replied, "but this is important. Would you please call him? If he isn't able to come here, I will go and speak with him at his home."

Meyers didn't look very amenable to that request, but he begrudgingly went over to the phone and picked it up. The conversation was all in low tones, but it didn't sound as if anything was said that was out of place for the expected conversation. He explained who was there and what they wanted, and then after receiving some instructions to which he responded affirmatively, he hung up again.

"He'll be down here in a few minutes," Meyers reported. "In the meanwhile, he says that he hopes I can answer at least some of your questions."

"What is your chief's name?" Dawson asked.

"Kelly Wickham," Meyers replied without missing a beat. "He's been working here for almost thirty-five years. It a nice place to work. Very quiet."

"Until now, at least," Fenton said.

"I'm not so sure this isn't all a mistake, after all," Meyers insisted. "But we'll see, I guess."

The front door opened, and everyone turned to see that two police officers had entered. Fenton raised an eyebrow slightly. He turned back to Meyers to ask him why, if there were only four officers in the entire department besides the chief, three of them were on duty, but he never did ask the question. He found that Meyers had drawn his gun.

"I'm going to have to ask that none of you do anything stupid," Meyers said, causing everyone to turn to look at him. At the same time, the other two officers drew their guns as well. "Jason, would you make sure none of them are armed?"

One of the other officers replaced his gun in its holster and stepped toward Dawson.

"This is a stupid move, Meyers," Dawson warned him. "We didn't come here without anyone knowing where we were going. There are going to be more people coming to investigate this."

"It wasn't my decision," Meyers replied, sounding suddenly tired. "But that's for the best. If we would have kept doing things my way, there would have been some justification for your hopes."

Jason finished searching for weapons—Dawson and Fenton were the only ones carrying any, although Jason also confiscated Ned's pocketknife—and had put handcuffs on all of them.

"Where are we going to put them?" Jason asked. "We don't have enough holding cells to keep them all separate."

"No. It's only temporary, though. Put them all in the same cell. But not the kid. He wants to talk to him," Meyers instructed, still in the same tired tone of voice.

Carson glanced at Ned and then back at Meyers. "Look, if your chief wants to talk to any of us…"

"He'll talk to whoever he wants," Meyers interrupted him. "It's not up to me."

"But this means he's coming?" the third officer asked. "How soon?"

"Within an hour, for sure. He was already on his way."

The officer muttered under his breath. "You could have warned us," he added more loudly.

"It wouldn't have done you any good," Meyers insisted. "I didn't want to give you any reason to try anything stupid."

"But after last time…" the officer protested.

"It's not going to be like last time, Brent," Meyers cut him off. "We've got Roscoe locked up already. That'll be the end of it."

"But we don't know for sure that it was Roscoe," the other continued to object.

"I know for sure that it was Roscoe, or I would have never put him in this position. You know me better than that."

"You could be wrong," Brent insisted.

"I'm not," Meyers said firmly. "Don't worry. You're going to be just fine."

"I'd better be," Brent retorted.

He and Jason ushered three of the prisoners out of the room, leaving Ned alone with Meyers. Ned was puzzled why the mysterious boss would want to talk to him, but at the same time, he was no less puzzled by the conversation he had just heard. When Meyers told him to sit down, he did so uneasily.

"I take it none of you are too thrilled to see your boss," he commented cautiously.

"Shut up," Meyers told him without another word. He also sat down, heaving a long sigh as he did.

"Where's Nancy?" Ned asked, more interested in the answer to that question anyway.

"I said, shut up," Meyers repeated.

Ned decided against trying to talk anymore, and so they sat in silence for about half an hour. Then the door opened again and a man in a suit came in. This man cast a casual glance at Ned before turning his attention to Meyers, who had already jumped respectfully to his feet.

"Where are the other three, Meyers?" the man asked.

"I have them in a holding cell," Meyers reported. "I kept this one out since you said you wanted to talk to him."

The other man nodded. "Do you know who I am, Ned?"

Ned gave a little half-shake of his head. "Kelly Wickham?"

The man raised an eyebrow and looked at Meyers, who shrugged.

"They were asking about a police chief," Meyers explained. "I had to tell them something."

"My name is Lucien Delvere."

"The guy who owns this town?" Ned replied.

"That's one way to say it," Delvere said. "I have a proposition for you. But first, Meyers, what about those girls?"

Meyers' face became almost imperceptibly tighter before he said, "We haven't caught them yet."

"Do you have the electronic barrier up?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because last time, one of my men was electrocuted."

"He should have been more careful."

"That's why I didn't have them activated." Meyers' face became a bit red and his words were hurried. "I'm being careful. I'm shorthanded already. I take the chance on losing any of my men."

A grimace that perhaps was meant to be like a smile creased Delvere's face. "You don't want to lose men, but not because you're shorthanded."

"It's a good enough reason," Meyers muttered.

"Have them activated."

"All right, but I've got some men out there looking for those girls, and I'm calling them in first."

"Do as you like with your men," Delvere said. "Whatever you think, they're no use to me dead." While Meyers went to the phone, Delvere fixed his gaze on Ned again. "As you've gathered, some of your friends are still at large."

"Some of them?" Ned asked.

"Meyers captured your girlfriend, but the other two have eluded his men so far." Delvere shook his head in an inscrutable way. "We don't have the military down on us, so we know they haven't gotten away entirely. Once the electronic barriers are activated, they won't be able to. You see, they're somewhat like the barrier you would put up for a dog with a shock collar on it, except they don't allow anything to pass over them without getting shocked. The voltage is quite high, so they won't escape if they try to cross over it. It makes a complete circle around the town, a few miles out, with the only gap being the road, but that's watched, so there's no chance for them."

Ned could feel his fury rising. "Are you some kind of sadist?"

"Not at all. I can't take any chances on those girls getting away, but I don't want them dead. Meyers is a capable man, but his people are a little less so. They've had plenty of time to find those girls, and they haven't yet. They wouldn't hide from you, though."

"What?" Ned asked in confusion.

"I want you to go look for them."

"By myself?"

"Of course. You can't get away any more than they can. Your only choice is to bring them back or keeping hiding out with them. We gain something the one way and we don't lose anything the other. And either way, you keep your friends from getting electrocuted."

Ned hesitated in confusion. He wasn't convinced by Delvere's reasoning of what was in it for Delvere, and he didn't believe that someone like this would make an offer that didn't benefit him in some way.

"Don't you want to save your friends?" Delvere asked.

"You're not leaving me very much choice, are you?" Ned replied finally. "But there has to be some catch?"

"If there is, you'll have to figure it out for yourself."

NDHBNDHBND

At first, it had seemed hopeless to Nancy that she could get out of her current predicament. She couldn't sit down with the handcuffs holding her to the coat rack, and she couldn't reach anything that she could use to try to pick the lock. It concerned her slightly that the first thing she thought of was to try to pick the lock, but she tried to push that concern out of her mind. Wanting to pick a lock to escape didn't mean that she would pick a lock under other circumstances. Maybe she didn't even know how to do it. In any case, though, she didn't have anything to use.

Eventually, a second idea began to form in her mind. She grabbed the bar in both hands and lifted herself up a few inches off the floor. It didn't seem to make any difference to the bar, but Nancy tried swinging on it to see what would happen. There was an almost imperceptible shake to the bar. Encouraged, she put her feet back on the floor to rest for a moment and then tried again. Once more, the bar creaked a little. She lost track of how many times she repeated this, but finally, with a loud, protesting groan, the bar gave way, and Nancy was able to slide the handcuffs from it.

That only solved part of her problem. She was still trapped in the closet. She tried the door, just to make sure it was locked. She had no doubt it was, but she would have been very disappointed if it turned out that it wasn't and she hadn't even tried it. Unsurprisingly, it was indeed locked. Not too disappointed since she hadn't had much hope anyway, Nancy sat down on the floor to rest and try to come up with a plan.

If she had still been in the room with the electronic steel door, there wouldn't have been much of a chance. It would have been impossible to break down, and even if it hadn't been, it could have triggered an alarm, cutting off any chance for escape. This door, however, was only made of aluminum, Nancy was fairly sure, and it had a normal lock. What was more, it might be possible to break out the slats in the door and then reach through and unlock it. Nancy glanced at the bar that she had just managed to rip down. It was the only thing she had to use for the purpose, and there seemed to be some dim memory in the back of her consciousness of doing something like this before.

She picked up the bar and tried to leverage it around so that she could insert the end next to the door. It was too thick to get any traction that way, so instead, she tried to ram it into the slats. The bar was too long for her to be able to get any speed behind the thrust, but the thin aluminum slats weren't very strong. After hitting it a few times, they began to bend, and finally two of them broke out. That was enough for Nancy to reach her hand through and try to get hold of the door handle. The handcuffs got in the way and for a few seconds, she wasn't sure she would be able to reach, but then she was able to get two fingers around it. Pulling very carefully, she was able to get the handle to turn and she pushed the door open. She cautiously glanced down the hallway, but there was no one in sight.