Blood Relations (11 page)

"Why, stepfather, how can you even think that?" said Greg.

"You can see how well she raised us," said Mike. "We're carrying on a family tradition."

"Yeah, a whole family of bad actors," muttered Joe.

"Well, we fooled you, man," Mike said.

"And your bright brother too," said Greg. "He was really going crazy with jealousy when I started acting friendly with that Callie chick. I figured that would give him the extra push he needed to want to show her what a great detective he was."

"But why did you want to get Frank and me involved?" Joe asked. "Wasn't that asking for trouble?"

Greg gave a nasty chuckle. "You overestimate how good you and your brother are. You two were putty in our hands."

"But that doesn't answer my question, why did you want to use us?" Joe asked again, though he already could make a guess.

"You like to think you're so smart, why don't you tell us?" Mike said, taunting him. "Go ahead, speedy, I'll give you the ball and see how far you can run with it."

Joe paused while his ideas took shape. He started speaking hesitantly, but his words came swifter and surer as more and more pieces of the puzzle fit together.

"You wanted to be able to get rid of Mr. Rawley, and had to find a way to do it so that you wouldn't be suspected," he said. "So you cooked up the story about his being involved with spies because of the top-secret work his company does for the government. And then you suggested he killed his first wife when she found out. You figured you could knock him off and say it was self-defense, because he was trying to kill you, his second wife and two stepsons, who had found out about his guilt."

"My God, is this true?" Walter Rawley gasped. "It's unbelievable."

"That was the trouble, a lot of people would never believe it," Joe went on. "Especially not my dad. The two of you have been friends for so long he wouldn't rest until he knew the truth." Joe shook his head as everything became absolutely clear to him. "But say Frank and I backed up the story. Say we actually thought we had uncovered all the facts on our own. That would have convinced my dad when Linda Rawley or Greg or Mike said they had had to kill Mr. Rawley in some kind of 'confrontation.' " Joe turned to Linda Rawley and her sons. "So you led Frank and me to find proof of Mr. Rawley's guilt so we'd testify to your innocence."

"Touchdown." Mike grinned. "Too bad Frank isn't around to hear you. But I'm afraid Frank is out of the ball game now."

"Yeah," said Greg. "Poor Callie. She'll be real upset when she hears about it. Maybe I'll try to console her. It'll be a way to pass the time while I wait for the investigation to end and Mom to get her hands on the company."

Joe fought down a feeling of disgust at the idea of a slimeball like Greg worming his way into Callie's affections. He fought down the sick feeling he had when he thought about what had happened to Frank. He had more pressing matters to deal with. Matters of life and death.

"But what happens to your grand plan now?" he demanded. "You don't have Frank to testify that Mr. Rawley is a murderer, and you don't have me. And you know that there's no way my dad is going to buy your story without us. You guys better figure out a new scam, because this one is shot full of holes."

"The only things that're going to be shot full of holes are Walter and you," said Greg with a smirk. "It was real nice of stepdaddy to bring his own gun. That'll make it all the more convincing when he's found with it in his hand. He'll be lying right near you, Joe. We'll put a gun in your hand too. Your dad will understand why you had to use it. He'll be proud of the way you died in a shoot-out defending us when the evil Walter Raw-ley burst in here to finish us off."

"And you really think he'll believe that story coming from you?" Joe said scornfully.

"Not from us, bright boy," said Mike. "But he will from a straight arrow like Callie. You see, Dunn is going to manage to find her and rescue her from the room where she's been locked up. Getting her involved in the case was Greg's idea, and it was a goodie. Since we have her to testify, we don't need you or your late, great brother."

"Don't look so glum," Greg said to Joe. "The spot you're in isn't bad. It's just hopeless."

Walter Rawley was still shaking his head in disbelief.

Linda Rawley saw it and smiled. "What's the matter, honey, you still have problems figuring out what's going down?" she said with mock sweetness. "I'm surprised, a big, brilliant executive like you."

"You've always hated me this much?" said Walter Rawley sadly.

"Now, Walter, don't be upset," Linda Rawley said. "You are kind of boring, but you're not so bad. There's nothing personal about this, it's just ajob."

"And I can make a good guess who hired you, Mrs. Rawley," said Joe. "Somebody who wants to get his hands on Laser, Incorporated, who wants to find out what work Laser is doing for the Defense Department and who would love to have access to all the company's secrets."

Walter Rawley nodded. "Of course. Now it all makes sense. They'd have the resources to set up an elaborate operation like this. And you're right, the Russians would pay dearly for one look at our laser projects, and the chance to own one of the companies working on lasers would be worth billions to them."

"I'm glad you two have come up with all the answers," said Greg. "Because the question-and-answer period is over. There's only one more thing you have to know."

"What's that?" asked Joe. Although he was tired of this game, he was in no hurry to have it end.

"Our bosses are very impatient," said Greg. "Which is why you don't have any more time before you die."

JOE STARED AT the gun pointed at his heart. Then, suddenly, he knew what he had to do.

Clutching his stomach, he doubled over, as if in intense pain.

Walter Rawley had seen the same thing Joe had. And he doubled over too.

What they both had seen was Frank Hardy sneaking into the living room behind Linda, Greg, and Mike. He signaled Joe and Walter Rawley to stage some kind of diversion.

They did—and it had worked.

"What the — ?" was all Greg had a chance to say before Frank's arm snaked around his neck. Frank's free hand grabbed Greg's gun, wrestled it away, and tossed it aside.

As soon as Joe saw Mike begin to turn to help Greg, Joe charged. A vicious chop to Mike's wrist sent his gun flying, and the two stood a moment, frozen, facing each other, each looking for an opening through which to strike.

Beside them, Greg broke free of Frank's hold and wheeled around to face him. Both his hands were turned into flat striking instruments as he assumed a karate posture.

"I hear you got a brown belt," he snarled. "Well, I got a black. So it's bye-bye time for you, Frankie boy."

Then, without a pause, he let out a piercing attack shriek and lashed out with his foot, while his hand cocked for a finishing chop.

Frank didn't recoil. He didn't even blink. As calmly as if the fight were in slow motion—though both boys were moving like lightning—Frank caught Greg's foot, flipped it—and Greg—up. Before Greg could recover, Frank delivered a stunning chop to the side of the neck that laid Greg out cold.

It was all over in an instant. Frank stood over him, looking down. "Pride and anger have no place in a fight, old pal. They make you blind. They make you lose."

Mike saw his brother down, Frank untouched, and Joe with his fist clenched ready to swing. It was easy for him to figure out the odds. Swiftly he made his move. He turned and ran.

Joe was after him in a flash—and brought him down with a flying tackle before he made it to the door.

"Never thought you belonged in the back-field," Joe panted as he hauled an unresisting Mike to his feet and shoved him against the wall. "You'd have quit as soon as the score was against you."

At that moment Walter Rawley exclaimed, "Not so fast, my dear." And he beat Linda to the guns on the floor, scooping up the one nearest to him. He held it on her while he picked up the other.

"Sorry, Linda," he said, his voice hard. "But it's no more Mr. Nice Guy."

A couple of minutes later Greg and Mike were also under Walter Rawley's gun. And Joe was able to say to Frank, "You could have shown up a little sooner. I was actually beginning to worry. And, oh, yeah, by the way, where did you disappear to? And where did you come from?"

Frank returned his brother's grin. "Sorry, Joe, that I wasn't able to let you in on what I was doing. But things started happening too fast, and I had to think and act even faster."

"Well, let me in on it now — starting with when you vanished in that subway station," said Joe. It was just like Frank, he thought, to make a mystery of a mystery, just so he could provide the solution in lavish detail.

"Actually, it started before I was jumped in that station," said Frank. "It was nothing I could put my finger on, but ever since you said the case felt too easy, I'd had my doubts about the whole setup. Evidence never stacks up as neatly as it did in this case—first from Greg and Mike, then from Linda, then from Dunn, then from the attack on Clark. It was almost as if someone was steering us in one direction. I mean, we didn't really have to work. I kept feeling less and less like a detective, and more and more like a puppet. Then, when I was jumped in the subway, it was like a string snapped. I suddenly saw things from a different angle and knew there were some questions that needed answers."

"Then they didn't get you?" said Joe.

"I spotted the goon coming out of the shadows just in time," said Frank.

"Just like I did," said Joe.

"Yeah, I saw you struggling after I knocked my man out, but you seemed to have things under control. So I tied my guy up, dropped him in a Dumpster, and took off," said Frank. "I figured if they had to hunt down two of us going in different directions it would increase both our chances. Besides, I figured the less you knew about what I was doing, the better, in case they caught you and tried to get it out of you."

"Thanks loads, brother dear," said Joe. Then he added, "You may have been right, but did you have to leave all the goons on my trail?"

"Well, Joe," Frank said, grinning, "I figured you could handle it."

"Your father's told me you're quite a sleuth," said Walter Rawley. "But how did you figure out that I was innocent? They had both Joe and me fooled until a few minutes ago."

"Dad once told us that if a case feels wrong, it may be," Frank said quietly. "And if it's wrong, you should turn it every way but loose."

He looked at Rawley, a grin lighting up his face. "What I did was turn the case upside down. I tried to imagine what it would be like if you were the innocent one and your wife and kids the villains. All of a sudden a whole lot of things made sense. Right about then I really needed to talk to you but I wasn't entirely certain that I was right. So I did the next best thing — I dressed up like a delivery boy and broke into your office. I was looking for any evidence that would tie you to the Swiss bank account, secrets being sold, security leaks, anything that I could check my assumptions against."

For a moment Walter Rawley looked shocked, even angry, then he began to return Frank's smile. "Find anything interesting, son?"

"I realized right away that there was a lot going on at Laser that would be invaluable to our enemies," said Frank. "And that's when I began suspecting just who our opponents were. I made one phone call to Chief Daniels of the New York Police Department, an old friend of ours, to check Dunn's detective license. When he came up empty, the whole house of cards came tumbling down."

"So you had the police round up Dunn and his gang," Walter Rawley said.

Frank looked embarrassed. "Well, not exactly. You see, they still had Callie in their hands, and — "

At this point Greg couldn't resist crowing, "And you didn't want to risk endangering her. You are soft on that chick, aren't you? Well, remember, in case you're thinking of turning us in, if we go, she dies."

"But none of us want things to go that far, do we, Frank?" Linda chimed in, her voice a soft contrast to Greg's hard one. "I'm sure we can arrange some kind of a deal. A trade. You let us free and give us, say, twenty-four hours to clear out, and you'll get Callie back."

"Yeah, what good will putting us away do, if you never see Callie again?" Mike asked.

Joe couldn't believe what he saw in his brother's eyes. Something he had never seen there before. He saw doubt—and hesitation.

"Hey, Frank, you can't trust these characters to hand Callie back," he cautioned.

"We can't let them get away with this," said Walter Rawley.

"Think of what they did to Mr. Rawley's secretary, that Clark guy," said Joe. "It would be letting them get away with murder."

"They killed Clark?" said Walter Rawley incredulously.

"Yeah, and planted some phony evidence against you in his house," said Joe.

"Which is all the proof you need of what will happen to Callie if you make the wrong decision," said Greg, his voice venomous. He looked Frank straight in the eyes, and Frank had to turn his eyes away.

"Let me think a minute," said Frank, biting his lip.

"Come on, Frank," Joe pleaded. "Think of these crooks laughing when they get away scot-free."

"Think of Callie, man," said Greg. "Think how pretty she is. Think how nice she is. And then think how dead she'll be."

"I need time," Frank said, almost shouting.

"Time is what you don't have. Callie's time is running out."

Frank's shoulders slumped. He looked defeated. As Joe and Mr. Rawley listened, mute with shock, he said wearily, "Okay, you win. Let's set up the trade."

Linda, Greg, and Mike all let their breath out in one giant sigh of relief.

"I'll call John right now and set things in motion," Linda said. She went to the phone, picked it up, and dialed. She listened a moment, then took her mouth away from the receiver long enough to say, "Nobody answers. I'll have to leave a message on his machine." She spoke into the phone. "The Hardy kids are on to us. But they're willing to exchange us for Callie. Call us as quick as you can and we'll work out the details." She hung up and said, "We'll have to wait—but we won't have to wait long. John moves fast."