Tagged for Terror (3 page)

"They're not exactly friends," Gina replied, "but you know how it is when people work together eight hours a day. You either learn to live with each other and get along, or go crazy."

Joe checked the clock. "I wonder what happened to Frank. He should have been here by now."

"It's a big airport," Gina said. "Maybe he got lost."

"You're probably right," Joe responded. "I guess I'd better go look for him." He turned and stared into Gina's big green eyes. "Maybe you should come along to make sure I don't get lost."

Gina smiled but shook her head. "I'm supposed to meet somebody here."

"Too bad," Joe said. "I was hoping we could spend more time together."

"I'm sure we'll run into each other again," Gina said.

Joe grinned. "I'll make sure we do."

Joe found his way from the employee lounge to the baggage claim area without any problem. There were few people near the luggage carousels, and no sign of Frank, but Joe wasn't worried. Frank knew how to take care of himself.

Where would I go if I were Frank? Joe asked himself. Although the two brothers' minds worked in radically different ways, they somehow managed to reach the same conclusion more often than not. Joe told himself he'd probably start nosing around the security system after he got bored watching suitcases go around in circles.

So he headed back to the security chiefs office, hoping that Frank might have gone there to ask Forrester some questions.

The receptionist in the lobby of the Eddings Air office suite gave Joe a dubious glance when he asked to see the head of security. "Didn't I see you in here earlier?" she asked.

"Yes," Joe responded. "But Mr. Forrester asked me to come back here at," — Joe peeked at the woman's watch — "three this afternoon." He leaned over the counter and whispered, "I don't know what this is all about. I hope he doesn't think I had anything to do with those missing hubcaps."

The receptionist pushed her chair back, putting some distance between Joe and herself. "Hubcaps?"

Joe nodded. "All those jumbo jets. Some - guy stole all the hubcaps off the landing - "

'. "Jumbo jets don't have hubcaps," the Woman responded, annoyed. '" Joe grinned broadly. "Well, then, I guess i'm In the clear. Still, I'd better find out what tHe big guy wants."

The receptionist picked up the phone. "I'll tell Mr. Forrester that you're here," she said briskly.

A few minutes later Joe was in the security chiefs office. Forrester raised his eyes from the computer terminal on his desk long enough to frown at Joe. "What do you want now?"

Joe took one look at Forrester's scowling face and decided this was probably not the best time to reveal that he was having a hard time locating his brother. "I need some background information on standard procedures for tracking lost luggage," Joe said.

"Most bags are located within a couple of days," Forrester told him. "We store all unclaimed bags in a locked storage room next to the baggage claim area. Each item is recorded in a computerized data base that includes the claim check number, any ID tag information, and a physical description of the bag."

"So most people get their luggage back right away most of the time," Joe said.

The security chief frowned again. "Most of the time—until about six months ago."

Forrester opened a drawer on the right side of his desk, glanced down, and then tapped a few keys on the computer. He turned the monitor slightly so Joe could see. "When anybody reports a bag as missing, we record that information in the data base, too. If we don't get a match, the entry shows up in yellow. If we still haven't found the bag after a week, the entry changes to red."

Joe noticed that there was a lot of red on the computer screen.

"At first we thought it was a glitch in the system," Forrester continued. "But after we ruled that out, we realized we had a serious problem. This isn't just happening here in Atlanta. Luggage is disappearing from our flights at airports all over the country."

"Do you think any Eddings employees are involved?" Joe responded.

Forrester gave him a weary look. "Since other airlines aren't having similar problems, and since Eddings employees have easy access to the luggage, I'd say it's fairly safe to assume that some of our workers have to be involved in this operation."

Joe ignored Forrester's bitter tone. At least the man was giving him answers. "Do you do any kind of screening when you hire new people?"

"A routine background check is standard procedure, but with the large numbers of people we hire, we don't have the time or the resources to get a detailed profile on each one.

"And all that information is in the computer, too?"

Forrester nodded.

"Just as an example," Joe said offhandedly, "let's say I wanted to find out about a baggage handler I just met, Danny Minifee. What will his file tell me?"

The security chief checked the desk drawer again, where Joe guessed he kept a list of passwords, and then started typing on the computer keyboard. A few seconds later Joe was looking at the personnel file for Danny Ray Minifee.

It was short and simple. Danny was twenty years old. He had been graduated from Porterville High School with a B-plus average and was enrolled part-time at Emory College. He had started working for Eddings Air four months ago. His only previous work experience seemed to be working on the family farm.

Under the heading of "Criminal Record" there was a single word None. Joe knew that cracking this case was going to be a lot harder than checking the personnel file of the first guy he met. Still, it had been worth a shot.

Forrester twisted the computer monitor away from Joe's eyes. "You shouldn't see confidential files," he said gruffly. "I don't know what got into me, I must be putting in too many hours." He nodded toward the door. "The sooner you get out of here, the sooner I can get back to work. If I'm lucky, maybe I'll get out of here before midnight for once."

Joe couldn't think of any other questions to ask Forrester, and he wanted to find Frank. He murmured his thanks and headed back to the baggage claim area to check for his brother again.

This time there was a large crowd standing around one of the carousels. Glancing at a video display terminal on the wall that listed departures and arrivals, Joe noticed that an Eddings Air flight had just landed. The passengers jockeyed for positions close to the carousel to wait for their luggage to appear.

Joe worked his way through the crowd, searching each face for Frank's. A startled shout made Joe turn. There was some kind of commotion close to the carousel. He pushed his way through the gaping onlookers to the edge of the conveyor belt. Joe had expected to see that a suitcase had sprung open, spewing somebody's underwear on the belt, but he wasn't prepared to see a limp figure in blue coveralls sprawled on the moving carousel. His eyes widened, and his heart started to pound as the conveyor belt carried the body closer to him. Joe instantly recognized the lanky form even though it was facedown. It was Frank!

"FRANK!" JOE SHOUTED. He leapt onto the moving carousel and crouched down next to his brother. "Turn this thing off!" he yelled.

Joe was only vaguely aware of the people staring at him as the conveyor belt continued around in its endless circle. His attention was focused on his brother. The only movement from Frank was the slight rise and fall of his back. At least he was alive and breathing, Joe told himself. He was out cold, though, and Joe knew not to move him. It might be dangerous.

Joe glanced up at the strangers crowding around the luggage carousel. "Somebody turn this thing off!" he shouted urgently. "Find an emergency switch! Do something!"

Somebody finally got the message, and the carousel ground to a halt. "Get a doctor!" Joe heard a woman call out.

"Joe!" another voice cried out. "What happened?"

Joe spotted Danny Minifee crawling through the opening where the conveyor belt fed out Of the loading area.

"Who is this guy? What's wrong with him?" Danny asked, puzzled. "He's my brother, Frank," Joe told him. At the mention of his name, Frank's eyes fluttered open, and he stared up at his brother. "Joe?" He tried to get up.

"Just lie still," Joe said, putting a hand on Frank's shoulder. "A doctor or paramedic should be here soon."

Frank shook off his brother's gentle grip and struggled to sit up. "I don't need a doctor," he insisted. A sharp pain shot up his head from the base of his neck. He let out a soft groan and rubbed his sore neck with one hand. "What happened? How did I get here?" Joe looked up at Danny. Two other guys in blue coveralls had joined him. "That's a good question," Joe said, staring at Danny. "Maybe one of these guys saw something." All three of them shook their heads. Danny knelt down next to Frank and Joe.

"We were just bringing in a load of bags when we heard somebody hollering about an emergency and stopping the carousel. I hit the shut-off switch and came running."

"This is Danny Minifee," Joe told his brother. "I met him in the employee lounge earlier."

"These other guys are Abel Cantu and Evander Renshaw," Danny said.

Frank smiled weakly. "Sorry we had to meet under such strange circumstances."

"Hey, Danny," one of the two men said. Frank wasn't sure which name went with which face. "We'd better get back to work. People are waiting for their luggage."

"Are you going to be okay?" Danny asked Frank.

"My head hurts," Frank responded, "but other than that, I'm fine. Just give me a hand off this thing and you can start it up again."

Joe and Danny helped Frank climb off the luggage carousel, and then Danny went back to the loading area. When the carousel started moving again and suitcases began to roll out, the small crowd lost interest in Frank and turned back to the important task of pouncing on their bags.

A paramedic team showed up with a stretcher and an emergency aid kit. Frank faded into the stream of travelers, pulling his brother with him.

"You really should let those guys take a look at you," Joe protested as they moved away from the baggage claim area. "There's no time for that," Frank insisted. "We have to get back on the trail before it gets cold." He told Joe about his discovery in the storage room. "We've got to get security down to that storage room right away. Whoever whacked me on the head isn't going to wait around to see if I tell anybody about the stash of stolen luggage. They'll move the stuff out as fast as they can."

The Hardys headed straight for the Eddings Air offices, brushed past the startled receptionist, and burst into the security chiefs office.

"What is it now?" Forrester barked as he rose out of his chair.

Frank quickly repeated his story. Forrester listened in silence, tapping a pencil on his desk the whole time.

"So you saw some luggage in a storeroom," Forrester said, "and got conked on the head. From that you conclude that you uncovered a secret cache of stolen bags and were attacked by one of the culprits.

"But you don't know if the bags were stolen," the security chief continued, "and you didn't actually see anybody hit you. Are you sure you didn't just bump into something?"

"Oh, right," Joe retorted hotly. "Then he staggered out of the storage room, made it all the way to the baggage carousel, and keeled over onto it." He turned to his brother. "Let's go. We'll bring back some of the evidence and stack it up in here."

"Now, hold on," Forrester responded, his voice rising. "At this point I'm ready to follow any lead—no matter how slim. Show me this pile of loot you found."

Frank led the way. He made a few wrong turns in the maze of corridors but finally found the storeroom. He knew it was the right one because the motorized cart he had commandeered earlier was still parked nearby. "This is it," he said, gesturing to the closed door. Joe tried the door. "It's locked." "That's strange," Frank said. "It was open when I was here before."

Forrester pulled a large key ring out of his suit-coat pocket, flipped through the assortment of keys, slipped one into the lock, and pushed open the door. Murky darkness greeted them.

Frank brushed past the security chief and hit the light switch on the left-hand wall. The harsh overhead lights glinted off the sparkling clean linoleum floor, revealing a wide-open space with absolutely nothing in it. "This is exactly what I was afraid would happen," Frank said bitterly. "We wasted too much time. They've already moved the stuff." Forrester shook his head and sighed. "I know you boys are trying to help, and maybe you can help if you stick to the program." He directed his gaze at Frank. "I wouldn't mention this little incident to Mr. Eddings if I were you." "Why not?" Frank responded. "Because if you tell him your wild theory about stumbling on a storeroom filled with stolen luggage, I'll have to tell him what I think really happened."

Joe glared at the security chief. "And what's that?"

Forrester kept his eyes on Frank. "You were nosing around the luggage carousel, accidentally whacked your head on something, and imagined the rest."

"Is that a polite way of calling me a liar?" · Frank asked in a cool voice.

"I don't think you're lying," Forrester replied. "I just think you're a little over eager and that blow to your head scrambled your memory. Sometimes our minds play tricks on us."

"Not mine," Frank said evenly. Forrester sighed and glanced at his watch. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."

Forrester ushered the Hardys out of the storeroom, locked the door, and strode Off down the corridor. "I'd like to get back in there and check out the space for clues," Joe said after the security chief was out of sight.

"I doubt if we'll find anything," Frank replied. "That room wasn't just emptied out it was cleaned out. The floor was still wet in a few places where it had been mopped."

Something on the ground caught Joe's eye. He bent down and picked it up. "Hey, Frank, remember those diamond-shaped luggage tags you told me about?" He handed Frank a silver tag. "Is this one of them?"

"What are you guys doing back here?" a voice called out.

Frank and Joe peered down the corridor and saw Solomon Mapes, the pilot who had flown Michael Eddings's private jet. Joe immediately noticed that Mapes wasn't alone. He had an arm around Gina Abend.