men - these men mean what they say, darling," she said.
Frank felt the blood drain from his face as the phone went dead.
Chapter 9
Frank's hands were coiled around the phone receiver as if it were a lifeline to his mother. For a few seconds he and Joe could only stand, stunned.
When he finally did hang up Frank noticed that his knuckles were white.
He looked at Joe and saw an expression on his face he'd never seen before. Was it terror? Fear? Anger? He wasn't sure, but whatever it was, he knew he was feeling it, too. Nothing they'd experienced before - multimillion-dollar heists, terrorist threats, computer scams - none of them compared to the kidnapping of their mother.
Everything that needed to be said was in the brief glance the boys exchanged. Biff, Chet, and Phil must have sensed it, too, because they didn't say a word. They watched with silent respect as Frank and Joe walked back to their father's office.
"Is she all right?" Aunt Gertrude called after them.
Frank and Joe didn't hear the question, and they were only vaguely aware of Aunt Gertrude rushing into the room behind them. All three of them stood watching Fenton Hardy, waiting for his reaction.
He sat, looking down, rhythmically tapping his pen on a legal pad. When he raised his head his face was taut and composed.
"Dad?" Joe finally said.
Fenton Hardy met his son's gaze. His eyes were burning. Frank and Joe knew he had a plan.
But it would have to wait. The sudden, cold jangle of the phone stopped him before he could say a word.
His arm shot out for the receiver. "Hardy!" he said, almost shouting.
Frank and Joe watched his features relax a bit. "Oh, sorry, Larry. ... Yes, I'm fine. ... Well, it's a long story. I'll let you talk to him." He held out the phone to Frank. "It's the Beast."
"Larry," Frank said, grabbing the phone. "I'll call you back in five, okay?"
'Oh, sure, Frank," the Beast replied. "But it'll only take a sec - "
"Thanks," Frank cut in. "Don't go anywhere." He slammed the phone down.
"What'd you do that for?" Joe asked.
"I don't want to take any chances," Frank answered. "We found a bug in the wall, but how can we be sure they haven't tapped our phone line?"
"Good point," Mr. Hardy said. "But how did the Beast get involved in this?"
"We may have a lead on the owner of the car that attacked the van yesterday," Frank wrote on a piece of yellow lined paper. "I'm going to a pay phone." Then out loud he said, "Come on, Joe."
Frank and Joe ran out to the rented car and drove to Pie in the Sky, a pizza place five blocks from home. Through the window they could see it was crowded, but the pay phone by the door was unoccupied.
"Perfect," Frank said.
"I don't know, Frank," Joe replied, scanning the parking lot, which was full of cars coming and going. "Maybe I'm being paranoid, but at this point I wouldn't be surprised if someone was following us with a shotgun mike."
"That's why this place is so perfect. Even if someone was parked right outside, he wouldn't pick us up over the crowd noise."
By the time Joe parked Frank was already at the phone. He dialed Larry Beister's number.
"Hello, meester, this is Larry Biester!" came the Beast's voice.
"I think you've been sitting in front of a VDT too long," Frank replied. "It's warped your sense of humor."
"Ooh, you really know how to hurt a guy," the Beast said. "This is what I get for doing you a favor?"
"I take it back," Frank said with a laugh. "Did you get the info?"
"Hey, was there ever any doubt?" the Beast said triumphantly. "The plates are for a Buick registered under the name Todd Brewster, eighty-five Barrow Street, Marfield, Massachusetts."
"Todd Brewster, eighty-five Barrow Street," Frank repeated so that Joe could hear it. "Beister, you're a genius."
"Just do me one favor."
"What's that?"
"When it's all over, call and tell me what this was about."
"We'll come up and tell you in person," Frank said.
"Over a pot of my famous homemade baked beans!" the Beast
Frank felt the blood drain from his face as the phone went dead.
Chapter 9
Frank's hands were coiled around the phone receiver as if it were a lifeline to his mother. For a few seconds he and Joe could only stand, stunned.
When he finally did hang up Frank noticed that his knuckles were white.
He looked at Joe and saw an expression on his face he'd never seen before. Was it terror? Fear? Anger? He wasn't sure, but whatever it was, he knew he was feeling it, too. Nothing they'd experienced before - multimillion-dollar heists, terrorist threats, computer scams - none of them compared to the kidnapping of their mother.
Everything that needed to be said was in the brief glance the boys exchanged. Biff, Chet, and Phil must have sensed it, too, because they didn't say a word. They watched with silent respect as Frank and Joe walked back to their father's office.
"Is she all right?" Aunt Gertrude called after them.
Frank and Joe didn't hear the question, and they were only vaguely aware of Aunt Gertrude rushing into the room behind them. All three of them stood watching Fenton Hardy, waiting for his reaction.
He sat, looking down, rhythmically tapping his pen on a legal pad. When he raised his head his face was taut and composed.
"Dad?" Joe finally said.
Fenton Hardy met his son's gaze. His eyes were burning. Frank and Joe knew he had a plan.
But it would have to wait. The sudden, cold jangle of the phone stopped him before he could say a word.
His arm shot out for the receiver. "Hardy!" he said, almost shouting.
Frank and Joe watched his features relax a bit. "Oh, sorry, Larry. ... Yes, I'm fine. ... Well, it's a long story. I'll let you talk to him." He held out the phone to Frank. "It's the Beast."
"Larry," Frank said, grabbing the phone. "I'll call you back in five, okay?"
'Oh, sure, Frank," the Beast replied. "But it'll only take a sec - "
"Thanks," Frank cut in. "Don't go anywhere." He slammed the phone down.
"What'd you do that for?" Joe asked.
"I don't want to take any chances," Frank answered. "We found a bug in the wall, but how can we be sure they haven't tapped our phone line?"
"Good point," Mr. Hardy said. "But how did the Beast get involved in this?"
"We may have a lead on the owner of the car that attacked the van yesterday," Frank wrote on a piece of yellow lined paper. "I'm going to a pay phone." Then out loud he said, "Come on, Joe."
Frank and Joe ran out to the rented car and drove to Pie in the Sky, a pizza place five blocks from home. Through the window they could see it was crowded, but the pay phone by the door was unoccupied.
"Perfect," Frank said.
"I don't know, Frank," Joe replied, scanning the parking lot, which was full of cars coming and going. "Maybe I'm being paranoid, but at this point I wouldn't be surprised if someone was following us with a shotgun mike."
"That's why this place is so perfect. Even if someone was parked right outside, he wouldn't pick us up over the crowd noise."
By the time Joe parked Frank was already at the phone. He dialed Larry Beister's number.
"Hello, meester, this is Larry Biester!" came the Beast's voice.
"I think you've been sitting in front of a VDT too long," Frank replied. "It's warped your sense of humor."
"Ooh, you really know how to hurt a guy," the Beast said. "This is what I get for doing you a favor?"
"I take it back," Frank said with a laugh. "Did you get the info?"
"Hey, was there ever any doubt?" the Beast said triumphantly. "The plates are for a Buick registered under the name Todd Brewster, eighty-five Barrow Street, Marfield, Massachusetts."
"Todd Brewster, eighty-five Barrow Street," Frank repeated so that Joe could hear it. "Beister, you're a genius."
"Just do me one favor."
"What's that?"
"When it's all over, call and tell me what this was about."
"We'll come up and tell you in person," Frank said.
"Over a pot of my famous homemade baked beans!" the Beast
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