The Case of the Psychic's Vision (15 page)

Melanie looked at Frank and Joe. “All my life, when something bad would happen to me, I'd curl up with my lamb,” she said. She turned back to Colin. “I don't think I ever hugged it when I was happy. I had never realized that until now.”

“I'll be able to sort out all the different images eventually,” Colin assured her. “It'll just take more time then I thought it would.”

For the next hour, they sat quietly, as Colin spoke softly to the lamb, saying things that he was hearing
Melanie say over the years as she tried to console herself with the stuffed animal.

After almost another hour had passed, Colin said, “I'm in the kitchen in a different house and I see a woman, who must be your mother, and I see you. Even though you're only two, I recognize you. You're sitting under the table holding the lamb close, and you're listening to the man and the woman talk. You don't want to be there, but you were playing under the table when they came in and if you come out now, the man will think you were spying on him and he'll paddle you and may even lock you in the closet. Now you're listening to what they're saying, because you just heard your name mentioned. Your mother is telling the man that she wants to move to Vermont, because she likes the colder weather, but that she's not quite sure if it would be good for you, because you have a lot of colds, and the man is frowning, and saying something about how he'd like to move there, too, because it would be far away from this place, but they can't do anything because of you. Your mother asks the man if he'll ever leave her, and the man doesn't answer. Instead, he goes out of the room, and your mother follows him. You stay under the table for a few minutes, then you leave the kitchen and go hide in the closet in your room, because you think they won't be able to find you there and take you away to this cold place called Vermont.”

Colin blinked.

For several minutes, nobody said anything, then Melanie said, “I think my mother loved me. I think she was just an unhappy woman and didn't know what to do.”

“I think so, too, Melanie,” Colin said. “I never once felt she didn't love you.”

“Do you think we should look first in Vermont, then?” Joe asked. “If Melanie was gone, there was no reason for her mother not to move there.”

“I think we could start with the Internet and look for a Mary Davis or Sullivan who lives in Vermont,” Frank said. “She might be listed under any of those names.”

After three days of searching various Web sites, they finally found a Mary Davis Sullivan in West Middlefield, Vermont, a town just a few hours from Bayport.

“We can take you up there,” Frank told Colin and Melanie. “We'll leave early Saturday morning.”

“Will that be enough time for what you have in mind?” Joe asked Melanie.

Melanie nodded. “I'm getting really nervous about this. Right now, I just want to see her, maybe even from a distance, to get some idea of who she is, what she does.”

Callie and Iola had been complaining for several days that Frank and Joe had been ignoring them
too much lately, so when Callie mentioned that she thought it would be fun if she and Iola accompanied the boys to Vermont, Frank and Joe readily agreed.

Early Saturday morning, the six of them headed to Vermont. Melanie had her stuffed lamb with her. Two hours into the trip, they stopped for breakfast.

Melanie didn't touch her meal. “What if we don't find her?” she asked. “What then?”

Colin assured her that he wouldn't stop until they did find her.

The closer they got to West Middlefield, the more nervous Melanie got. By the time they entered the city limits, she was almost a basket case.

The Hardys were glad that Callie and Iola had come along. Their constant chatter helped relieve some of the tension and, from time to time, even made Melanie laugh.

At the first service station on their side of the road, they stopped for a map.

“Her address was listed as 423 North Essex Street,” Joe said, consulting a piece of paper he had in his shirt pocket. “Do you see that on the map?”

Colin found it easily, but it was far from where they were.

Just when Frank thought they were getting close to 423, they found North Essex Street blocked by several police cars with flashing lights.

“I wonder what's going on,” Joe said.

Frank parked the van on the street, and the boys got out.

“I say we find out,” Frank said.

They approached one of the first patrol cars, where a police officer was leaning against the driver's door, talking on a cell phone. He said something quickly into the mouthpiece, then clicked it shut.

“We're trying to get to 423,” Joe said to him. “How far up the street is it?”

The officer gave Joe a funny look. “What do you need at 423?” he asked.

“We think our friend's mother lives there,” Frank explained. “She hasn't seen her in a long time. We live in Bayport. We brought her up for a visit.”

“What's her mother's name?” the officer asked.

“Mary Davis Sullivan,” Colin said.

The police officer snorted. “Well, you sort of picked a bad time for a visit, boys,” he said. “Mary Sullivan's ex-husband is holding her hostage. There won't be any visiting today.”

The police officer started to turn away, but Frank stopped him. “How are you handling this?” he asked.

The police officer frowned. “Handling this? Listen, I don't have time to discuss this with you, son. You need to move along.”

“I'm Joe Hardy, and this is my brother, Frank,” Joe said. “Our father is Fenton Hardy. You may have heard of him.”

The Hardy boys saw a noticeable change in the police officer's demeanor.

“Oh, yeah! I know Fenton Hardy. Well, I don't actually know him,” the officer said. “I heard him lecture last year in New York City. That man knows what he's talking about.”

The police officer proceeded to give the boys a full account of what happened. Melanie's mother had been living in Vermont for almost fifteen years, mostly in West Middlefield. Five years ago, her husband was sent to prison, based on testimony Melanie's mother had presented in court. The husband had vowed to get even with her. He had escaped two days ago while on a work detail, had come to West Middlefield, and had taken Mrs. Sullivan hostage.

“He said there was no way she'd get out of that house alive,” the officer said. “We've decided to wait them out. We think it's the best tactic.”

“Thanks,” Colin said. He took Frank by the arm. “I guess we'd better be getting back to Bayport.”

The police officer gave him a funny look but didn't say anything.

The boys headed back to the van.

Before they got there, Joe said, “You can't be serious, Colin.”

“Of course I'm not serious!” Colin said. “We're going to rescue Melanie's mother.”

The Hardy boys and Colin told the girls that they were going to look for a way around the roadblock, and that it would be easier for them to do it on foot than in the van.

They thought that Melanie and Iola believed them, but Frank wasn't quite sure that Callie did. The boys started down a side street before she could ask them too many questions.

It looked like there weren't as many patrol cars on the next street over, but there were still some up near where they thought 423 would be.

“Now what?” Frank said.

Joe looked at Colin. “This is your gig,” he said. “Do you have any kind of a plan?”

“I'm flying by the seat of my pants,” Colin said. “Just running on adrenaline.”

“Sometimes that's the best way,” Frank said.

The boys started walking up the sidewalk toward where the patrol cars were parked. When they got to 419, Colin said, “Let's cut behind this house and see how the alley looks.”

They were thankful that 419 had lots of trees and shrubs that gave them plenty of cover. They also noticed that all of the drapes and curtains in all the houses they passed were closed, so there wasn't too much chance that they would be seen.

They were also lucky that the backyard of 419 wasn't home to some massive and unfriendly dog.

Once in the alley, they had even more luck. There were no police officers in sight.

“It'll be the third house from this one,” Frank whispered. “419, 421, then 423.”

They started running, staying low. When they reached the back gate of 423 North Essex Street, they lay flat on the ground for several seconds, mainly waiting to see if anyone would start shooting at them. When nothing happened, Frank reached up and tried the back gate. It opened easily.

“I'll hold it open, just wide enough for you two to slip inside, then I'll follow,” Frank said. “We need to stay along the side of the fence until we reach the house.”

They hadn't counted on disturbing a bird's nest
in a bush just inside the yard. The squawking produced a noise loud enough to be heard inside Mrs. Sullivan's house. It also made them run faster than they had ever run before.

They got to the side of the house just in time.

The back door opened, and a man stuck his head outside. Frank could see that he was holding a rifle. Fortunately, the man didn't look in their direction. He muttered, “Stupid birds!” and stepped back into the house.

The boys were crouched under a window. Slowly, Joe raised his head until he could see inside the room. He could tell that it was the dining room. There was a woman sitting at the table, head bowed, a cup of coffee in front of her. At that moment, Mr. Sullivan entered the room and started pacing back and forth.

“He's going to crack soon,” Joe said to Frank and Colin.

“I'm going in,” Colin said. He started to stand up but Frank pulled him back down.

“No, you're not,” Frank said. “We're in this together, but we've got to have a plan.”

Joe was looking at the grass in the backyard. It obviously hadn't been mowed in a week or so. In the corner nearest them, there was an old push mower, the kind you hardly ever saw anymore, in this age of riding mowers. Suddenly, he had an idea.

“Audacity!” Joe whispered.

Colin looked at him. “What?”

“It's a word we discussed last week in English,” Joe said. “It means ‘a display of daring.'”

“What's that got to do with rescuing Melanie's mother?” Colin asked.

“You do something so daring, that it catches a person totally unaware,” Joe explained, “and before the person can react, you've accomplished your goal!”

“This is sounding more and more interesting,” Frank said. “Keep going.”

Joe told them his theory about the yard. “I'm sure it hasn't been mowed since Mr. Sullivan has been here, and I doubt Mrs. Sullivan has discussed it with him,” Joe explained, “so if some goofy teenagers came up to the back door, laughing and talking about how they were sorry that they hadn't gotten around to mowing the lawn, because they've been too busy with other things, and that if it's okay, they'll go ahead and do it now, because they'll be too busy next week, then . . .” Joe paused. “You get the picture.”

“Yes!” Colin agreed. “By the time Mr. Sullivan reacts, it'll be too late.”

“Exactly,” Joe said. He turned to Frank. “Well?”

“I think it'll work,” Frank said, “but we can't stop talking for even a second, or we're dead.”

They took a deep breath, stood up, and on the count of three, they started laughing and talking and shouting for Mrs. Sullivan.

When they reached the back door, they started knocking on it as hard as they could and calling, “Mrs. Sullivan! Mrs. Sullivan! We're here to mow the lawn.”

They could detect a lot of movement inside, but in a few minutes, a startled and very puzzled Mrs. Sullivan opened the back door and stared at them.

They went into their routine. In the middle of it, Colin pulled open the door and said, “I'll get that pitcher of cold lemonade that you always keep for us out of the refrigerator.”

“Hey, Colin! Great idea!” Joe said. He was following Colin inside. “I hope you baked those chocolate chip cookies for us. We can't mow the lawn without chocolate chip cookies.”

“I'm not going to let you two near that lemonade or those cookies,” Frank said with a high laugh that surprised even him. “I'm going to make sure you bring them back outside.”

Now all three of the boys were inside the house. In the corner of the room, they saw Mr. Sullivan. They could tell he didn't know what to do. They made sure they kept in constant motion and didn't stare at him, but they did acknowledge him with a, “Hello, sir! We're the guys who mow the lawn, but we sure flaked out this week. Sorry!”

Mrs. Sullivan stayed where she was, at the back door, staring uncomprehendingly at the incredible performance.

Out of the corner of his eye, Frank saw Mr. Sullivan start to move toward him. It was all right, because Frank was sure that he wouldn't do anything until his mind allowed him to comprehend what was going on—and that was when the boys would make their move.