The man who lived two houses down and across the street from the Hardys, smiled to himself as he read the Bayport Gazette. Headlines blazoned the news: "Kidnap Suspects Arrested!" and the accompanying article told of the arrest of three suspects in the mall kidnap attempt the previous week.

Knowing that one of his men had been taken into custody, the man had contacted his two remaining subordinates, to find out if they were free or not – and discovered that they were. The cops had obviously gotten the wrong people. It didn’t matter all that much – save that he fervently hoped that this mistake would cause the women – and their overzealous bodyguards! – to let their guards down.

It was the best of luck, as far as he was concerned! He could do what he’d set out to do: capture the two women! Turn them over to his bosses. He could practically taste his promotion!

And his revenge…oh yes! The taste of revenge would be especially sweet…!

Calmly, he called his men again, with a succinct message: "Step up surveillance on them both – and go for it, as soon as you have the chance!"

*****

SUNDAY MORNING

Nervously, Laura Hardy got into her car to drive to the park. It’s a good thing no one can see my hands, she thought to herself, noting how they were shaking. She wondered whether she could make it there without causing a car accident! She forced herself to act normally, to not check the mirrors more than she normally would, to not react to the ominous appearance of a blue van in her rear-view mirror, which stayed a normal distance behind her…but never allowed another car to get in between them!

I’m glad Erica was driving herself to the park, Laura thought, chewing on her lip as she flicked her eyes once more to the rear-view mirror. I just hope I make it there before these guys try anything! What if they force me over now, before I get there, and…. But before she could panic herself with these speculations, Laura remembered the reassuring presence not far behind: Frank in his shiny black Saturn. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her, she knew that. Relax, Laura! she ordered herself firmly, and flexed her hands slightly on the wheel, loosening the tight grip.

Arriving safely at the park, Laura pulled into a parking space beneath the shady trees. She got out, glancing quickly around to check for the blue van, which seemed to have temporarily disappeared, and opened the car trunk, removing the box of baked goods she had brought along with her.

Laura noticed a familiar black Saturn enter a nearby parking space, and stifled an urge to laugh as her elder son climbed out. Frank was wearing dark glasses with a piece of tape across the nose. His dark-brown hair had been parted on the side, and slicked back in a style wholly foreign to him. He was clad in jeans and a buttoned-down-the-front Madras plaid shirt, and old, worn sneakers. Ignoring Laura, he chewed industriously on a wad of gum as he carried a bag towards a nearby tree – which just happened to be growing very close to the Bayport High School Alumni Parents Association bake-sale booth!

"Nerd-boy." That’s what Joe had called him, and Joe had nearly laughed himself sick when he viewed Frank’s appearance. But Laura thought he looked adorable, in an odd sort of way. Frank himself hadn’t complained too much over his disguise, although he did comment that chewing all that gum made his jaws ache!

Speaking of Joe…. As Laura set her offerings down on the table inside the booth, she saw her youngest son, her husband, and the youthful Jeremy Isaacs, tossing a football around on the nearby grass. Again, she wanted to laugh. Fenton was wearing a horrible blonde wig and a fake blonde mustache, and wraparound reflective sunglasses. He looks nothing at all like the man I’m married to! Laura thought. Jeremy had added a fake ponytail to his normally neat professional hairstyle, and was wearing glasses rather than his usual contact lenses.

Joe hadn’t changed anything; he looked the same as he usually did, clad in cutoff jeans and a t-shirt which announced it was ‘Property of Bayport Community College Athletic Dept." At the moment, he was throwing a football OVER Jeremy Isaac’s head with great enthusiasm, and yelling both gibes and encouragement as Jeremy had to pursue and retrieve the ball.

Laura smiled fondly. Joe was walking on air today, she knew, after the totally unexpected win Bayport CC’s football team had managed over Lutheran Heart College the previous day. Six to five the final score….Joe made that incredible lay-out catch late in the fourth quarter, and then a few moments later, the kicker nailed a 23-yard field goal – and they pulled it out, when no one thought they had a chance! Maybe that’s a good omen for today, too!

"Laura!" Mrs. Hardy glanced around, and smiled and waved. Erica Ranson was approaching the booth. Dressed in jeans, a lilac-colored t-shirt and tennis shoes, with her blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, Erica looked about 16 years old.

"Hi, honey." Laura hugged the younger woman briefly. "It was nice of you to come to support the bake sale," she said clearly, for the benefit of any and all listeners. "Are you okay?" she added, in a much lower tone.

"Yes…" Erica glanced around, seemingly a bit nervous about the possible events of the day. "I’m fine. I’m glad to be out of the hotel!" Suddenly she giggled. "Laura, you’d never recognize Michael!" she whispered.

The popping sound of a motorcycle engine drowned her words, and a well-used Harley-Davidson cruised by the booth and swung into a parking spot nearby. The rider dismounted and approached, removing a wicked-looking visored riding helmet as he did so. Laura watched him nervously. Kidnappers aside, there was always the chance of other weirdoes showing up at a park! The man appeared young; he had dark hair with two purple streaks in it, a black leather jacket and leather riding pants, and knee-high riding boots. Chains and several large pieces of jewelry glinted in the September morning sunlight, and he swung the helmet nonchalantly by the strap as he walked.

Pausing beside the booth, the young man lighted a cigarette and took a long drag, expertly blowing out decorative smoke rings as he slowly exhaled. Grinning impudently at the women, he addressed them in a gravelly yet nasal twang: "Hiya, babes!"

Laura stared at him, murmuring a noncommittal reply, slightly affronted by his attitude…and then she saw something familiar in the intense blue gaze of the biker, and glancing at Erica, saw the twinkle in the girl’s eyes. And now that she knew who it was – who it HAD to be – Laura could recognize Michael Ranson! She smiled and shook her head in near-disbelief.

Michael exhaled again, blowing more smoke rings, and glanced around at the set-up of the bake sale. "You got any uh that banana bread?" he inquired. "My lady has an awful yen for some. An’ maybe some uh that there chocolate cake." He pointed with the hand holding the cigarette.

Laura bit her lip and swallowed hard, schooling herself not to laugh. She’d never suspected Michael Ranson of having a penchant for comic acting, but the man was incredibly good – and obviously enjoying himself! "Yes, we have some banana bread," she replied, slipping with the ease of long practice into her ‘sales’ persona. She recited the costs of both requested items, her voice registering dubiousness as to whether this biker actually had enough money to pay for both of them!

Ranson made a large show of patting down his pockets, finally pulling out a ragged wallet. He slowly counted out the desired amount – all in worn dollar bills.

Laura packaged up the banana bread and chocolate cake for Michael, who grinned at her, winked saucily at Erica, and took his leave. She handed the money over to another of the women in the booth – someone who was actually on duty there – who had been rearranging the items to make room for Laura’s offerings, and then rearranging them again, as the bread and cake were removed.

"Penny, I’d like to introduce a friend of mine, Erica Ranson," Laura said now. "Erica, this is Penny Davis, one of the organizers of this bake sale." Erica smiled charmingly at the plump Penny, as Laura continued speaking: "Penny, do you need help with anything else?"

"I could use another hand," Penny admitted. "Maybe you two could set up all the cookies and candies over on this table? I’d like to keep the categories separate, if possible."

Laura and Erica set to work, and soon the cookie-and-candy display table was arranged in what they hoped was an attractive layout. More and more people started coming to the bake-sale booth, and for a short time, all the women were busy helping their customers.

Laura was beginning to wonder if anything was going to happen. Maybe this whole elaborate charade was for nothing! Perhaps they were in too public a place, after all. As if reading her thoughts, Erica moved close and whispered, "I almost hope nothing happens. I’m starting to get butterflies in my stomach!"

"We’ll hold out a little longer," Laura murmured in return. "Maybe the kidnappers have given up – but maybe they haven’t! I know how you feel, honey; I’m nervous as a witch myself! But I really want this to be over with, right now. I don’t want to have to go through this again!"

"You’re right—" Erica sighed. "I don’t like feeling caged up…I want to be free again! I just wish something would happen – and yet, I’m scared to death something will happen!"

"Be careful what you wish for," Laura whispered with a small chuckle. A little louder, she said, "Things are slowing down here – would you like to take a walk down by the lake, Erica?" Softly, she added, "I think no one is going to try anything while we’re here, surrounded by so many people."

"Sure, that would be great. Can we feed the ducks?"

"Of course." Laura selected a loaf of sliced bread and paid for it. "Come on, let’s go."

The two women strolled towards the lake at a normal pace, chatting about the bake sale success and the ducks. Glancing casually at her surroundings, Laura saw Fenton motion to Joe, a ‘go out for a long one,’ gesture, and saw Joe take off at a hard lope towards the lake, then pivot, just in time to catch the football. Joe then waved to Jeremy, who fanned out right – towards Laura and Erica.

Under his tree, Frank stretched, and put his book into his bag. He pushed his sunglasses up on his nose, then gathered up his bag and walked towards the lake, avoiding the football players. Finding a convenient bench, he settled down on it and took out his book once more.

Laura almost laughed, but forced her attention back to Erica – just in time to see a clown with white makeup and a diabolical painted grin approach them, holding a large bunch of helium balloons! Laura flinched back, afraid that this might be the assailant – and was startled to hear Erica hiss, so softly that it was barely audible: "Ethan, go away!"

The clown – whom Erica knew, apparently! – bowed, and silently offered each lady a balloon. They both declined, and he drifted away, sadly.

Erica and Laura found a bench near the water’s edge – and just as importantly, near Frank’s bench – and sat down. They started to tear off chunks of homemade bread and toss them into the lake, for the ducks – who had noticed their arrival, and were streaking towards the spot with a riotous clamoring!

A few joggers trotted past, one with a most familiar face – Con Riley, looking nothing like his usual professional self, clad in shorts, t-shirt, and running shoes, with a fanny pack strapped in place. Seeing him, Laura felt a little better; she knew that pack was holding a lot more than sunscreen and a water bottle. She wondered what it was like to try and jog with a 9mm Beretta jiggling on one’s hip!

Laura was beginning to wonder again if this elaborate plot was all for nothing. Her stomach was tying itself into knots. Sternly, she admonished herself, reminding herself that something like this could take hours, and she mustn’t give the game away by acting strangely.

"Where are you and Michael going to go when you leave Bayport?" she asked Erica softly, tossing another chunk of bread to a small brown duck, who pounced on it with avidity.

"I’m not sure," Erica replied. "Michael said something about Atlanta. I’d like to talk him into somewhere a little more exotic than Atlanta, though – say, Tahiti, or the Fiji Islands – or the Bahamas. Or maybe the Virgin Islands…St. Maarten might be nice."

"Have you been to any of those places before?"

"My parents took me to St. John when I was about 14 or 15," Erica replied. "But I suspect that we’ll end up wherever we need to be for Michael’s business, actually. I just hope it isn’t Atlanta, after we were in New Orleans so recently!"

Laura was about to say that she agreed with her, when the sound of a throat being cleared behind her made her stiffen and choke off her words.

They both turned – and saw a tall man standing directly behind their bench, one hand in a pocket. He pulled it out just enough for them to see the hilt of a gun. Very quietly, he said, "Ladies, if you want to live, get up and come with me….now."

Laura inhaled sharply, hoping that their watchers were, indeed, watching! If they weren’t – if no one noticed – this could get seriously messy! Moving slowly, Laura stood up and took Erica’s hand in hers as the younger woman rose. She was aware of Frank sitting up straighter on his bench, his eyes fixed on them behind the cracked sunglasses. At least Frank noticed, thank you God!

"This way." The man put a hand on Laura’s shoulder to steer them around the lake.

A surreptitious glance at Erica showed Laura that the young woman was pale with fright. She squeezed her hand comfortingly.

"Keep going around the lake, ladies," their escort whispered. He gently guided them with the hand on Laura’s shoulder. She walked obediently, feeling as though she might be sick. Stay calm…you have to stay calm. If you panic, or Erica panics, this thing could go very bad very quickly.

Fenton had warned both of them, over and over again, that they initially must do what the men wanted – and that they must NOT act until they heard the signal! "Cooperate with them," he’d repeated. "Lull them into thinking you’re not going to fight."

It was the hardest thing Laura had had to do in a long time. She didn’t want to go with this man…she didn’t want to cooperate. She wanted to kick him, and then run away as fast as she could!

Laura noticed the battered blue van she had seen before, moving along the access road about 50 yards off the lake. The same blue van she had seen in her mirror. The same blue van she had seen parked next to the mall the day she and Erica had nearly been kidnapped the first time.

Quick, nervous glances told her that various people were moving in on them from different directions: Frank had abandoned his backpack to move along the lake shore, casually skipping stones across the water now and then. Fenton and Joe had stopped tossing the football, and Jeremy was moving towards them with purposeful strides. On the edge of her vision, Laura could see a bright flutter of balloons as the clown strolled closer. She heard the distant staccato ‘pop’ of a motorcycle engine….

She wasn’t sure where things abruptly started going wrong.

Fenton’s voice came to her clearly, yelling "NOW!" and she moved quickly, shoving Erica to one side, away from their assailant – and then she heard the sound of repeated gunfire, both close and farther away. Laura fell to the ground, throwing herself half onto Erica, sheltering the young woman and allowing her more security. And then a moment later she was nearly mashed into the turf as someone covered HER, and she heard Joe’s voice saying "Lie still, Mom, stay down until the shooting stops!"

After what seemed like time in an endless loop, it was quiet. Laura felt Joe slide off her, and she raised her head…