The Hardy’s rented jeep tore up the gravel drive of the Hiller Ranch. Orange flames were curling up the front of a large steel frame building. Though it would take intense heat to burn down this type of barn, the flames would bring enough smoke and heat to kill anything alive inside the building.

Fenton pulled the Cherokee to a stop and all three jumped out. Before Fenton could give any directions, Joe Hardy took off toward the front of the barn in a rapid sprint.

"Joe! Stop!" the man shouted, seeing where Joe was headed. The police SUV was parked near the front door of the barn, just mere feet away from the intense flames.

Joe had seen the SUV and realized that if the flames reached the vehicle, it would explode, making it impossible to even get near the barn. He raced up to the Blazer and prayed that Benson had left the keys inside.

Joe was shocked at how hot it was in the SUV cab and didn’t dare look out the window to see how close the fire was. He turned the key and the engine roared to life. Joe started to put the truck in gear when a loud bang lifted the rear of the SUV into the air, landing it with a thud. Joe didn’t know how he was still alive, but didn’t wait another second to throw the Blazer into ‘drive’ and peel away from the barn.

Jumping from the SUV, Joe noticed that the back tires were blown out from the heat. That’s what had caused the bang that had sent him flying. Joe ran back to where his father and brother were working to fight the flames that licked up the doors.

Both Fenton, with an old pitchfork and Frank with a battered shovel, were pulling burning straw away from the door. Joe, not having anything else handy, grabbed a charred 2 x 4 piece of board that was laying on the ground nearby and used it like a shovel to help push the straw away from the door.

Fenton pulled his shirtsleeve down over his hand and grabbed the handle on the door, pulling it open. Thick smoke swirled around them as they entered the steel building.

"Get low," Fenton called to the boys, "Stay below the smoke." Joe and Frank immediately dropped to the ground. Frank, as a safety precaution, used Joe’s board to prop the door open. The trio crawled into the barn, calling for Benson and Tanner.

"Hardy! (cough, cough)," Ronnie called out, "We’re (cough, cough) at the thresher." Fenton Hardy wasn’t sure what a thresher was, but could make out the shape of some large machinery near the back of the barn. The three Hardys crawled to the thresher and found Ronnie holding a very still Colt Tanner in his arms.

"Tanner’s hurt bad," Ronnie said hoarsely, "Gotta (cough) get him outta here." Frank and Fenton lifted the injured sheriff between them, while the youngest Hardy helped Ronnie outside.

When they were clear of the barn, Fenton carefully checked Colt’s ankle. The thresher blade had cut clear to the bone and the sheriff had lost a lot of blood.

"Joseph," Mr. Hardy glared at his younger son, "You run and get the first aide kit from the back of the jeep now." Joe knew his dad was angry because he ran ahead to the SUV and Joe would probably be in for a long lecture later that night, but for now, Fenton was showing his feelings simply by using Joe’s formal name. Joe ran to the jeep and pulled out the kit, racing back as fast as he could.

Ronnie Benson had recovered enough to walk away from the barn a ways. He knew in his heart that the body in the barn was Collin Anderson. He felt the rush of tears come and didn’t move to stop them. "I’ll find who did this, Collin. I promise," he vowed. He started to walk back to the barn when he spotted something behind the house.

Benson pulled his gun back out of the holster and moved forward, toward the old, abandoned homestead. Parked just out of sight was a police issued SUV. Ronnie climbed in the cab and his eyes fell on the two photos that were taped to the dashboard. One, was of a golden retriever, the other was of Becky Watson.

* * *

Becky Watson had just opened the door to her apartment above the diner when her phone rang. She ran to answer it.

"Whoa, wait," the woman said, "Is this Heather? Honey, you gotta calm down. I can’t understand you."

"They took Mom!" the 18-year-old girl cried into the phone, "They said if Uncle Colt doesn’t leave town, they’re gonna kill her!"

Becky’s blood ran cold. What in the world is happening to this town? "Where’s Sarah?" Becky asked.

"She’s out tryin’ to find Uncle Colt," came the reply.

* * *