Franklin Hardy moved through the streets behind David Conley’s sedan easily. The experienced police detective kept a safe distance behind the dark vehicle, never giving away his position.

When Conley’s car pulled off of the main road onto a small gravel lane, Franklin kept going past it. A few moments later, he turned around and headed down the gravel lane. 

Conley’s sedan had stirred up enough dust that it was easy to know where the car had been. Franklin stopped outside a broken fence that encircled a small, abandoned warehouse. He saw Conley’s car parked near a side entrance to the structure.

Franklin backed his own rental out of sight. He quickly radioed his son.

“Fenton, do you copy me?”

“Yes, Dad,” Fenton replied. “What’s your location?”  Franklin quickly relayed his tailing Conley and the location of the small warehouse.

“I’ll call in back-up and be there in fifteen minutes,” Fenton responded.  “Dad, be careful.”

* * *

Sydney Stewart was not a happy man. He knew where they were going and had a pretty good idea what they were going to be doing. He didn’t want to hurt Owen Hardy’s kid again, but he knew Conley was getting tired of waiting for Hardy to pay up. When they reached the warehouse where the child was being held, he wished he’d never joined up with David Conley.

“Let’s get this over with quickly,” Conley stated as they walked into the empty warehouse. “Bring her here.”

Stewart went to the small room that held Monica captive for the past six days. He could smell the waste and filth before he even opened the door.

The child was huddled in the corner, cradling her left arm. The appendage was swollen and purplish in color. He noticed that the water jug was empty and the supply of crackers was almost gone.

Stewart didn’t speak to her, or even look into the child’s terrified eyes as he hauled her into the larger, outer room where Conley was waiting. He didn’t even bother to tie Monica to the chair. She was now too weak and afraid to run away.

David Conley watched Stewart put the child in the rickety old chair before he dialed Owen Hardy’s phone number.

* * *

Fenton Hardy followed his father’s directions and found the gravel road between Blackdog Point and Perry Shore easily. He drove within walking distance of the fence and pulled his rented car off the road.

He was nearing the fence when he heard his father’s voice call to him. Fenton moved into the brush near the broken down fence and hunkered down next to his dad.

“The police are on their way,” Fenton whispered. “Let’s move in now.”

“I agree,” Franklin stated. “I’m worried that Conley may cut his losses and just kill Monica. Let’s get inside.”

The two men moved silently along the fence, crawling between a broken pole and mesh grating. They ran across what had once been a parking lot and positioned themselves on either side of the door Conley and his thug had entered earlier.

Franklin nodded and Fenton cautiously opened the unlocked door, taking a defensive stance inside. Franklin followed suit and soon they were inside the silent building.

They listened intently until they could hear Conley’s voice. Focusing on the sound, they moved deeper into the dark interior of the warehouse.

* * *

Laura Hardy stood in shocked silence as Gertrude’s words seeped into her heart. “Cancer…biopsy…chemo…”

Cancer was something that happened to other people’s families, not her family. Having lost her own parents tragically five years earlier, Laura treasured the relationship she had with her in-laws. Now, she faced losing Esther, too.

“Laura?” Gertrude asked, gently touching her sister-in-law’s arm.

Laura’s blue eyes looked onto Gertrude’s dark brown eyes, “I-I’m sorry. I-I guess I’m just in shock.”

“My reaction, too,” Gertrude responded, “so don’t apologize.

“I’d rather not burden Dad or Fenton with this now,” Gertrude added. “They have enough to deal with at the present.”

“Agreed,” Laura nodded. “But we’ll have to tell the boys something. They’re too perceptive to not notice that something is going on.”

“They can know that Mom’s sick and will be staying here until Dad and Fenton get home,” Gert suggested. “I’m sure we can count on the boys to keep mother’s mind occupied, too.”

“Yes,” Laura said numbly. “I’ll talk to them both after Frank gets home from school.”

* * *

Franklin and Fenton Hardy moved into a dark hallway. They could hear David Conley’s voice clearly now and assumed the drug lord was in the room at the end of the hall where hazy, yellow light made a rectangle on the cement floor ten feet away from them.

“Owen, I am truly sorry,” Conley was saying, “but these matters must be dealt with. What would people think if I let you get away with cheating me out of my money?”

Fenton couldn’t hear his brother’s response, but he felt the anger boiling inside him as he imagined what Conley was planning to do to Monica.

“Owen, dear boy,” Conley crooned, “of course I’m not going to kill her. Not yet, anyway. However, she is going to suffer each time I have to remind you to pay me in full.”

In the next second, Fenton felt as if someone had ripped his heart out as little Monica’s scream filled the empty building. No longer able to control his emotions, he charged into the room at the end of the hall.

“Fenton! No!” Franklin hissed, trying to grab the back of his son’s jacket, but missing by a few inches.

“Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!” Franklin muttered as he followed.

The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The Hardy Boys Fan Fiction authors of the Hardy Detective Agency have just borrowed them for an adventure or two. The authors promise to put the boys back when they are done with them. The authors do claim copyright to the original characters in this story. Please do not borrow original characters without express permission of the authors.