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SHOT IN THE DARK |
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THE CHAPTERS
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The crime scene unit went over the entire
truck, taking samples, lifting prints and classifying all the contents.
One article in particular had caused even Fenton Hardy to doubt Billy’s
protests of innocence. In the bed of the pick-up, under a piece of folded
tarp, was found a bloody, leather belt. On the front of the belt was
written in blood:
THE HARDY’S HAD A LITTLE LAMB WHOSE FLEECE NOW GLISTENS RED; AND IF THEY DON’T FIND HIM SOON THEIR LITTLE LAMB WILL BE DEAD! "It’s not mine!" Billy cried, nearly hysterical, "I didn’t do anything to Joe! It’s him! It has to be him!" "Who, son?" Collig asked the distraught young man, "Whose belt is it?" "I bought it for him," Billy barely whispered, "I can’t believe he’d do this!" "Who Billy?" Fenton pleaded, looking into Billy’s blue eyes, "Who has my son!" "My father!" screamed Billy, than softly added, "I bought him the belt for Father’s Day." The small crowd that had gathered outside on the Hardy’s front lawn fell silent at Billy’s announcement. "Uncle Buck?" Gertrude Hardy questioned in disbelief. "Why would Buck take my baby and make these crazy threats?" cried Laura Hardy, holding on to Fenton’s shoulder. Just then, the distinct sounds of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony sounded and Frank Hardy pulled out his cell phone. "Hello?" Frank said into the mouthpiece. "Are you Frank Hardy?" asked a woman’s voice with a deep, southern drawl. "Yes, who is this?" replied Frank, an anxious feeling coming over him suddenly. "Listen carefully," the voice said, "Your younger brother is here beside me." "Where? Where are you? What have you done to Joe?" Frank cried into the phone, causing all the others to focus on him. "I’m gonna put him on the phone so you know I’m telling you the truth," the woman said. Frank heard the woman call someone ‘Sugar’ and then he heard a soft groan. His hands tensed on the cell phone. "F-Frank?" came a hoarse, but recognizable whisper. "Joe! Where are you Little Brother? Are you okay?" Frank franticly asked. "J-just listen to Rita," said Joe’s strained voice, "Please, Frank." "What have you done to him? Joe! Joe!" Frank screamed into the phone. Rita’s heart broke for the young man on the other end of the conversation. "Come to the Bayside Resort, cabin 27," Rita said, "You’d better get here quick. You’ll find Joe here. Bring the police and...an ambulance." The line clicked off and Frank stared at the phone in his hand. "Frank! Son!" Mr. Hardy looked at his eldest son anxiously, "Tell me!" Frank repeated the conversation. Sighs of relief at knowing Joe was alive and where he was turned to grief at the mention of needing an ambulance. "Rita is my Dad’s girlfriend." Billy said in a small voice. Collig radioed the police station and sent officers to the Bayside Resort. He and Con Riley headed for the police car, while Fenton, Frank and Billy Hardy climbed into the boy’s black van. * * * * * Rita had left the boy after making the phone call. ‘I don’t want to be here when your rescue squad arrives, Sugar,’ Rita had told Joe, ‘I may not be too brainy, but I know I could be charged as an accessory to your kidnapping. Hang on Sugar, helps coming.’ She had kissed the boys forehead and was surprised how hot and moist his skin had felt. She had gathered her things, along with Buck’s cell phone and left the cabin. Joe Hardy lay on his side, engulfed in pain and fever. A soft moan escaped from his dry lips. The fever was causing him to shiver uncontrollably, even with the gray blanket Rita had retrieved from the living room floor. Joe fought to stay awake; forcing himself to listen for the approach of sirens he knew would be coming.
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Home Library Authors Rogue's Gallery Vehicles Chums Message Board Rap Sheet Links Contact Disclaimer The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The authors 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. |
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