Blood Relations (6 page)

It was only when they were back in midtown Manhattan and Greg had parked the car that they had a chance to get out and talk. First the boys hugged and spoke with their mother. Then Frank asked, "How did you find us?" Greg grinned. "You're not the only one who can do detective work."

Callie seconded him. "He's right about that. I saw him in action. He's good — really good. You ought to think about making him part of your team."

Despite himself, Frank started to glower. But he stopped and told himself not to be dumb. "Yeah, good work. But how did you pull it off?

What did you do?"

"Wasn't hard, really," said Greg with a brief show of modesty. "After you guys and Dunn cut out for the rendezvous, Mike and I figured you might need some backup. So we went by Walter's office to tell him we'd meet him just before the, drop. Then we arrived at the delivery spot just in time to watch Dunn get slugged and you get grabbed. By the time we ran back to our car you'd vanished. So we figured the best thing we could do was cruise the streets, hoping to spot a car parked somewhere." "And what's Callie doing with you?" asked Frank.

Callie answered for herself. "Just before Greg and Mike left, 'Callie' gave them a call to see how things were going. Greg told me their plan, and I asked if I could come."

"And I said sure," Greg chimed in. "I figured we needed all the help we could get and Callie can really handle herself."

Callie flashed a triumphant look at Joe. "Thanks, Greg, I appreciate that," she said, her voice warm.

Frank didn't feel warm. He felt hot—under the collar. Fortunately, Callie was standing where she couldn't see how angry he was becoming. But Joe could.

"Looks like you don't have to join our team," Joe said, speaking to Callie. "Looks like you and Greg can form a team of your own."

"Time to cut the small talk," said Frank sharply. "We have to figure out our next move. Like finding Dunn, for instance."

"Dunn's okay," Mike said. "We checked him out after the guys who grabbed you lost us. He would have helped us look for you, but he wanted to check out a couple of other leads."

Greg glanced at his watch. "Mike and I have to join Walter now, to go through with that charade with the ransom. I can hardly wait to see his face when we show up and nobody comes to snatch Mike and me."

"But do you think it'll be safe for you?" asked Callie. "If your stepfather is involved in this kidnapping, won't someone have told him what's happened?"

"Doesn't matter if he has been clued in or not," Greg said. "Even if he has been, he knows Mom's free now, so there's no point in grabbing Mike and me, especially since Mom knows where the hideout is and can tip off the cops. All he'll want to do now is cover his tracks—until he can getaway."

"Seems like you've thought of everything," said Callie.

"Still, you may not have covered all the angles," Frank said, cutting in. "To be on the safe side, Joe and I will play backup for you two. Turnabout's fair play."

"Okay, if you want to," said Greg. "But it's not really necessary. Dunn should be able to do it. He'll be checking his answering machine every ten minutes so we can get in touch with him whenever we need to."

"I figure he won't mind some help," said Joe. "I'd like to get my hands on those guys who snatched us."

"I'll be on the backup team too," said Callie, looking at Joe to see if he dared voice an objection. Seeing the defiant look in her eyes, he kept his mouth shut.

"And I'll go too," Linda Rawley said simply. "I might not be able to help much, but I am your mother, and I couldn't stand the torture of waiting and worrying that something might have gone wrong."

"Come on, Mom, nothing'LL go wrong, and we'd feel better if we knew you were safe," said Greg.

"Yeah. It really would be better if you were out of sight," Mike added. "We should find a hiding place for you until we figure out how and what to tell the cops."

"Right," Greg said "We still can't go to them because we don't have enough evidence to put together a really convincing case against Walter."

Frank hated to say, "I agree," but he did. "The police do have to have evidence and follow procedures, and all that takes time that we don't have."

"Fast thinking and fast moving are the name of the game now," Joe added.

"Well, the name of my game is motherhood," said Linda Rawley firmly. "I'm going along."

They all recognized that tone of her voice. And there was no arguing with it.

Half an hour later Linda Rawley was with Frank, Joe, Callie, and Dunn as they crouched in an alley, waiting for Walter Rawley and his stepsons to arrive at the drop.

"I pray that everything will go all right," she said, her voice trembling.

"No reason it shouldn't." Frank tried to reassure her. "The kidnappers either won't bother to show up, or if they do show up, it'll just be to take the money and run, to convince Greg and Mike that the kidnapping was on the up-and-up."

"I hope you're right," said Linda Rawley, unconvinced.

"We are," said Joe confidently. "Frank and I have had experience with this kind of thing."

"Quiet!" Dunn commanded in a harsh whisper. "Here they come."

Walter Rawley's gleaming Mercedes, looking as out of place in that neighborhood as a fish on a bicycle, pulled up to the curb and stopped. Walter, Greg, and Mike got out and stood under the same burnt-out streetlight. In the faint glow from streetlights farther down the street, the five people spying from the alley could see that Raw-ley was carrying a briefcase.

This time no goons sneaked out of the alley to jump them. But in a couple of minutes a black sedan did inch slowly down the street and pulled up just in front of the Mercedes.

Rawley and his stepsons turned toward the black car expectantly.

But nobody expected what came next.

Two men with handguns jumped out of the black car. They tore the briefcase out of Walter Rawley's hand and hustled Greg and Mike at gunpoint into the backseat of the car. Walter Rawley stood empty-handed and openmouthed as the car roared off.

In the alley the five onlookers stood openmouthed too.

Linda Rawley found her voice first.

"You were all wrong," she whispered. "Dead wrong!"

"WHY AREN'T WE chasing them?" Callie asked.

"They're long gone," said Dunn. "It'll be better to keep an eye on Walter, to see what he does now."

Walter Rawley stood still, shaking his head back and forth like a man trying to clear his brain after taking a bad punch.

"Looks like he really is stunned," said Frank. "Maybe he isn't in on the kidnapping."

"Looks can be deceiving," said Dunn. "Let's see what he does now."

Walter Rawley had regained his balance and frantically looked around. Finally he ran for his car and roared away, leaving only exhaust behind him.

"Well, it looked like he was making sure no one was watching him," Dunn said, stepping out of the alley.

"You don't trust anybody," commented Joe. "He was looking for help. He'd just been mugged. He panicked, he doesn't know what to do. He's lost his whole family."

"Well, I've lost my sons, and I don't understand why," Linda Rawley said, interrupting.

"To buy time," Frank explained to her.

"Time to hunt you down," Dunn added bluntly. "And get rid of you. And not only you. You two as well, Frank and Joe. If they're as good as they seem to be, and if Walter Rawley is their boss, they have to silence all witnesses."

By now Callie could restrain herself no longer. Impatiently she said, "While you guys are trading theories, the kidnappers and Rawley are getting away."

"It all happened too fast. We didn't really think anyone would have showed up," Joe said calmly. "There's no way we could follow."

"We don't have any more time to waste now. I say we should call the police—and do it now," Callie insisted.

"No. You can't," Linda Rawley cried. "My boys—they'd be killed!"

"I'm afraid she's right, Callie," Frank said. "That's why they snatched Greg and Mike. They know she won't dare go to the police while they have her sons."

"But we've got to do something," Callie insisted.

"We need facts," said Frank. "If we get enough evidence to finger Rawley, he wouldn't dare have his men hurt Greg and Mike. Even if it's not Rawley, we need the facts to track them down."

"Tell me, Linda," said Dunn, "is there someone in your husband's business, someone who works closely with him, who might know about anything irregular that's happening with the business?"

She thought a moment. "I'm not sure. He never really talks to me about his work. But I do know he has a private secretary who's been with him a long time. A man named William Clark. I've met him a few times. A mousy little man."

"That's a start," said Dunn. "Where does he live?"

"In Bayport," Linda Rawley said.

"Frank, Joe, see what you can find out from him," Dunn said. "I'll check out the place where the kidnappers held you, but I know it's a waste of time. Still I have to check out everything. Then I'll go to the city to nose around and get a lead on the kidnappers."

"We still have to figure out a way to shield Mrs. Rawley until we put the kidnappers out of business," Joe said.

"I've got the perfect answer," said Callie.

"They have no idea I'm involved in this. Why doesn't Mrs. Rawley stay at my house? My parents are off on a week's vacation, so I'm there alone."

"Great idea," said Frank. "It won't take us that long to track down the kidnappers and get Greg and Mike back."

"And get the goods on Walter Rawley," added Dunn.

"No matter how much evidence you find against him," Mrs. Rawley blurted out, her voice thick with sadness, "I'll find it impossible to believe."

"I understand, Linda," said Dunn sympathetically. "And I'm sorry. I feel we should get going now. Will you be all right?"

She drew a deep breath and nodded.

"You know, it really bugs me," Joe said to Frank after they had dropped Linda Rawley and Callie off at Callie's house. "Everyone but me seems to have convicted Mr. Rawley already. I always thought a man was considered innocent until proven guilty."

"That's a new line from you, Joe," said Frank, raising an eyebrow at him. "Usually you're the one who's eager to act first and ask questions later."

"Maybe it's because this is all too easy — all too pat," Joe said. "Seems like we're missing something because we're so eager to nail Rawley. And I think somebody has to keep that in mind just to be fair."

Frank frowned as he steered the van toward their house. "You think I like accusing an old family friend?" he demanded of Joe. "I don't like it any more than you do."

"We have to be sure," Joe insisted.

"Yeah, I agree. We need facts. But we've gone after people with a lot less evidence than this before."

The brothers rode in silence for a minute. "Maybe we've been wrong," Frank finally said. "Maybe we should bring Dad in on this."

"No way." Joe shook his head. "Dad would feel like he had to talk to Mr. Rawley himself, and if he is innocent, it would ruin their friendship and maybe even Rawley's reputation. If he is guilty he'd be tipped off that we were on to him, and he could clear out."

"I don't know, brother," Frank said, turning the van into the Hardys' driveway. "All I know is, we've gotten ourselves into a real mess this time."

"Yeah, but at least we're home in time to catch a couple of hours' sleep before we talk to Clark."

Frank and Joe slept in their clothes and got up just as their parents were sitting down to the morning meal.

Their mother, Laura Hardy, merely lifted her eyebrows quizzically when they strolled into the kitchen. Then she smiled and set two more places at the table.

The only reference she made to their outfits was, "You two planning on wearing those clothes for the rest of your lives?"

Their father, Fenton Hardy, added, "I see your vacation from work has ended. Hope things are going okay."

In most matters Fenton Hardy's relationship with Frank and Joe was that of a father, both in giving them advice and laying down ground rules. But where their detective work was concerned, he treated them as equals, merely offering help when asked and staying out of their way the rest of the time.

"Everything's going fine," Joe said. "A routine investigation. Confidential, of course, but pretty cut and dried. We should wrap it up quick."

"Any possibility of our getting any breakfast?" Frank asked.

"Pancakes coming up," said Laura Hardy. "But I hope you great detectives will use your powers of observation afterward. There will be dirty dishes and pans in the sink. Please observe them and deduce that I'll be late for my work at the planning commission if I wash them."

After breakfast Fenton Hardy helped his sons with the cleaning up, then headed for his study in another part of the house.

Joe, stacking the last of the dishes in the washer, turned to Frank and said, "It's funny. I thought I'd still be sleepy, but I'm not the least bit tired."

"You know, now that you mention it, I'm not either," said Frank.

"Matter of fact, I feel raring to go," said Joe.

By now, neither of them could hold back their grins. It felt good to be going into action again on their own. Teaming up with others was okay, to a point. But they liked it a whole lot better when they were working their own way.

"What do you think, Joe, white collar or black bag?"

"I think this is a white-collar job," said Joe.

A "black bag" job involved lying low and eavesdropping. A "white collar" job was one in which the boys put on their best-looking suits and adopted a slightly officious manner and never stopped talking.

Joe once told a friend that "when they open the door to us in our three-piece suits, we've got it made. We don't let them get rid of us even if all they say is 'go away.' "

The boys had tried every kind of disguise and found that the most important part of any costume was their attitude. It was all a matter of staying in character. If they acted as if they were supposed to be asking questions, most people just answered them.