"I’m hungry!" he announced firmly to Frank, who was sprawled on top of his bed, half-dozing.

Frank lazily opened one eye and surveyed his younger brother. "So what else is new?"

That wasn’t the reply Joe had wanted to hear. "Aren’t we going to eat?" Joe asked in an exaggerated whiny show of dismay. "I realize we have to keep an eye on the place, but – are you intending on starving to death while we do it?"

" ‘Patience, grasshopper’." Frank quoted with a teasing smile. "I’ll go out and pick up some hamburgers, how’s that?"

"Sounds good," Joe replied, mollified. He returned his gaze to the Applegate house. "Make mine a double bacon cheeseburger, large fries, and a super-sized Pepsi."

Frank got up, shaking his head. "You’ll be too full to move out of that chair." he warned. He got his jacket from the closet, and donned a dark cap similar to Joe’s ‘lucky’ baseball hat...in fact, it was his baseball team hat. They had decided that keeping a low profile was the best idea, to protect both themselves and Con Riley. Wearing the hats would disguise them sufficiently so that any observer would have difficulty identifying them later. "Mark my words, little brother, greed has brought down many an unwise man."

Joe arose from his chair and made a slow, menacing advance on his older brother.

Frank retreated, holding his hands up in mock fright. "Hey! I didn’t say I wouldn’t get you the food! Enough with the heavy stuff, already!"

"See that you do!" Joe went back to his chair, keeping his gaze locked on Frank.

Frank picked his car keys up from where they lay on the dresser. Another nod to anonymity had been to bring Frank’s black Saturn rather than the easily-recognized blue Aztek which Joe drove. A black Saturn was fairly common, and blended easily into the background, whereas the distinctive Aztek would be noticed and remembered.

"Be back in probably half an hour."

Joe’s only response was: "Make it 20 minutes."

*****

By the time Frank had returned with their dinners and they had eaten, the soft spring twilight had become darkness, making it impossible to observe the house any longer. Traffic had slowed to nearly nothing in the Bay Shore development, triggering the time to begin their investigation.

Both of them changed into black clothing, and again put on caps to cover their hair and shade their features. Frank checked his pockets for his lock-pick set; Joe made sure the penlights had sufficient battery power. At last they set out for Hurd Applegate’s house.

They decided to leave via the fire escape, which was conveniently situated just outside Joe’s bedroom window across the hall. They climbed down silently, dropped the last five feet to the ground, and eventually found themselves walking softly along the curving sidewalk.

Timing their approach to avoid observation, the two slipped discreetly beneath the fluttering yellow plastic tape and hurried around the side of the house to the rear entrance. The back door opened onto a small cement patio, which in turn gave onto a lush expanse of grass. At the far edge of the lawn, there was a stretch of sand and rocks, then a few feet down, the water of Barmet Bay. Unlike most of his neighbors, Hurd Applegate had not had a boat and a boat dock.

"Mr. Applegate must not have cared all that much for water sports." Joe observed quietly. "Almost everyone has a dock with a little boat tied up, not him." A fleeting memory of their own speedboat, the Sleuth, flashed across his consciousness, and he briefly considered how nice it would be to be out on the water right now, instead of standing in the cold garden of a murder site.

"I guess you don’t have to own a boat to live here," Frank chuckled. "And I can’t see Hurd putt-putting around in an outboard or on a sailboat." He paused then, gazing at the back entrance in consternation. "Darn it, Joe, it’s a glass sliding door! If there’s one of those bars in it, there’s no way we can get in! A lock pick won’t do any good on that sort of door!"

A brief examination showed them that indeed, there was a wooden bar which prevented the sliding door from being opened. Joe muttered something extremely rude about Hurd Applegate’s security measures, then turned his gaze to the rest of the house. "Maybe we can get in a window? I hope?"

"We can only try," Frank agreed. "If we have to, I guess we can try going in the front, but that’s awfully exposed, and we’d risk being seen."

His younger brother sighed and went to the nearest window without a great deal of hope. "Let’s see what we’ve got…."

Later, Joe was to claim that it was because he was wearing his "lucky hat" that they found an unlocked utility room window. Certainly there was no logical reason that that one certain window had been neglected; all the others were securely fastened. But after removing the screen – a job that took time, effort, and a considerable amount of stretching – they managed to slide the small window up far enough to gain entrance.

"Boost me up." Frank requested, turning off his penlight and tucking it into his jacket pocket. Accordingly, Joe crouched down and cupped his hands together, bracing his elbows on his knees, and creating a step. Frank carefully placed his foot in his brother’s hands, and grabbed at the window ledge to pull himself up. With Joe lifting, in a moment the elder boy was squirming through the window opening.

"Okay." Once inside, Frank opened the window further and leaned out again, extending his hands to his brother. "Come on up."

When both were safely in the house, the Hardys switched on their penlights again, but shielded the beams with their fingers to prevent any stray light leaking out until they were sure the drapes and blinds were firmly closed. Finally, they felt secure enough to start their search for clues. They split the rooms between them, and went their separate ways.

Ten minutes later, as Joe was hunting through a tall bookcase, he heard an excited exclamation come from the main bedroom. Quickly, he went there and hovered in the doorway. "Did you find something?" he asked hopefully.

"Sure did; come and look at this!" Frank was standing in front of the fireplace, his back turned to his brother.

Joe approached and surveyed the mantel where Frank was pointing. "Sorry, I don’t see anything." he said finally.

"That’s the point. Look closer."

Joe did as instructed, but shook his head. "What?" he demanded fretfully.

"See the light covering of dust there? Right there – it’s a clean oblong area, where a photograph or something must have stood."

Joe squinted and moved the angle of his flashlight beam so that the dust showed up better. "You’re right, there is a bald area. How did the police miss that?"

"In the daylight it would be extremely easy to miss. It was only because I angled my light accidentally, like you did just now, that I noticed it at all."

"So there’s a chance that our murderer might have taken it?"

"Yep." Frank grinned.

After allowing themselves a few more moments of excited speculation, they resumed their search, but a fruitless half-hour later, admitted defeat. There seemed to be nothing out of place, and nothing that might indicate the presence of a murderer, other than the possible missing picture. The police investigators had been very thorough.

"Now what?" Joe asked disconsolately, sitting down cross-legged on the floor near one of the living room windows. "We’ve looked everywhere!"

"I’m not sure." his older brother admitted. "I can see now why the police don’t appear to have gone in any other directions. Dad’s the only logical suspect, I guess."

"Frank, we have got to find a better lead than a missing picture!" Joe’s voice held a desperate quality. "Dad could end up in prison for the rest of his life if he’s convicted of homicide!"

"You don’t have to tell me that." Frank responded bitterly. "I’m the one who took all the criminal investigation classes, remember?"

Joe stared blankly at the window, trying to think of any place that might hold a clue which they hadn’t already inspected. Absently, he played the beam of his penlight along the floor, making small swoops and swirls of light on the carpeting and curtains.

"Joe, hang on a minute—" Frank held out his hand. "Run the light along the bottom of the drapes again, would you?"

Joe tilted an inquisitive eyebrow, but obeyed, and as he did so, the beam of light caused the drapes to become semi-transparent. Circular curtain weights could clearly be seen, lined up in a neat run in the green fabric. But the pattern was abruptly broken near the center, by a mysterious square shape.

"There!" Frank lunged forward and lifted the bottom of the drape. Carefully opening the hem, which was coming unstitched, he pounced on the square something which had been hidden inside.

"What is it?" Joe demanded, leaning close to see what Frank had found.

His brother held out his hand. In it rested a small rectangular object – an old-fashioned silver Zippo cigarette lighter!

"I’m sure Hurd Applegate didn’t smoke," Frank breathed. "And we know Dad doesn’t. And if Hurd had guests who did, it isn’t likely that they’d leave a lighter under a curtain near a window. I think this may be important."

Joe scratched at his bristles thoughtfully and gazed at the window. "Frank, if someone was standing behind these curtains, that person could have dropped the lighter and not even been aware of it. It wouldn’t have made a sound when it landed; it was caught in the material. That someone could have been up to no good – hiding in the drapes!"

"That’s right." his brother agreed.

Joe extended a hand. "Could I see it?"

Frank handed it over, and Joe fingered the small item curiously, noting that one side felt curiously uneven, compared to the smoothness of the rest. "Let’s go back to the B & B and take a good look at it." he suggested. Dropping the lighter into his jacket pocket, he switched off his flashlight, and headed toward the utility room again, using the faint glow of light coming in from the street lamps outside to guide his way through the darkened house.

Frank followed quietly in his wake.

Joe was about to slide the utility room window open once more, when a sudden sound outside caught his attention. It was a sort of scuffling, scraping noise – definitely not made by the wind. He felt goose bumps arise all over this body, and his hair standing on end.

The Hardys dropped to the floor and crouched there, frozen. Remaining motionless, they watched the window for a few seconds, but nothing appeared.

"Maybe – some sort of animal?" Joe hazarded, in a barely-audible whisper, after a moment.

Frank shrugged. Realizing that they couldn’t remain crouched in Hurd Applegate’s utility room all night, he silently rose to his feet and approached the window once again. But as he reached for the frame, he nearly jumped out of his skin, for the window was abruptly pushed upwards!

Joe switched on his light, and the Hardys saw a masked intruder staring through the opening at them. Both of them gasped in shock. The light from Joe’s flash showed up Frank’s features clearly, and to their utmost surprise, the masked man jerked in surprise and growled "Hardy!" Scarcely had he uttered the word when he was nimbly jumping back down to the ground and streaking away from the house.

"Come on!" Frank was already springing to the window and scrambling frantically through the aperture. "We’ve got to catch him!" He dropped to the ground and took off in pursuit of the masked intruder without waiting for Joe.

The younger Hardy squirmed through the window and landed on the ground. He gave one backward glance at the window – too high, there was no way he could close it now on his own, and besides, there wasn’t time! Whirling about, Joe followed the direction Frank had taken, along the side of the house. He caught sight of his brother dashing down the street, heading away from the water toward the little stand of trees in the distance, and was about to follow when he was nearly blinded by an unexpected flash of light!

"What the—?" Joe flung his hands up to his face and stopped short, waiting for his vision to clear. As it did, he glimpsed a figure crouching in the bushes next to the house. The dark figure, dressed similarly to the Hardys, had something in his hands; it didn’t take more than a few seconds for Joe to realize that he had been caught in a camera flash! Before he could react, the figure leaped to its feet and began running with long, loping, ground-covering strides, back around the side of the house and towards the Bay!

Two people? There are two people in on this? was the thought that flashed through Joe’s mind before he was racing in pursuit of the shadowy figure from the bushes. I hope Frank can catch the other one; this one’s up to me!

Making no attempt to hide, the elusive photographer was running along the shoreline, leaping over shrubs in various back yards, stumbling across the occasional rocky stretch next to the water, thumping across the little boat docks. Joe raced after him, hoping to avoid falling and spraining – or worse, breaking – an ankle on the rough terrain.

The stranger had long legs, and covered the ground rapidly, but the various obstacles in his way slowed him down. Joe, by making a furious effort, managed to shorten the gap between them, until he was within twenty feet or so.

The shadowy figure glanced around and seeing Joe’s close pursuit, redoubled his efforts. Again he pulled away, and Joe snapped his teeth in disgust and tried to coax a bit more power from his tiring legs. From somewhere deep in his reserves of strength, he managed to find just a little more speed, and again closed the gap.

With a wordless snarl, the quarry turned and headed down one of the docks toward the water. Joe pounded across a lawn after him. He’ll be cornered there! I’ve got him! I’ve got him! he thought exultantly, and ran onto the dock at full speed.

But to Joe’s shock and surprise, the stranger didn’t stop at the end of the dock. Instead, he leaped forward, and hit the waters of Barmet Bay with a tremendous splash!

"WHOA!" The younger Hardy, running at full tilt, skidded to a halt, and nearly catapulted into the cold water too. He teetered on the end of the dock, flailing his arms wildly to regain his balance, and was forced to grab at an upright piling to save himself from plummeting into the frigid bay. Once stable, Joe leaned over, still grasping the support, and peered into the dark waters of the bay, searching for his escaped prey.

He ran the penlight over the water and listened intently. The beam of light was not strong enough to penetrate the gloom for more than about six feet, and the only noise that Joe could hear was the smooth lapping of water against the dock and the boat moored on the other side. To his chagrin, the mysterious stranger seemed to have disappeared entirely! How could he have gotten away so fast? Joe thought. I was right behind him! He realized that his quarry might have swum underwater in any direction, and tracing him was going to be a lost cause, now.

"Rats!" Joe kicked at the dock in disgust, and turned to retrace his steps. Might as well see how Frank’s doing. I hope he had better luck than I did! He took small comfort in the knowledge that the water was so cold the stranger would be lucky not to develop hypothermia.

Joe jogged out to the street again and set off in pursuit of his brother. Frank had headed for the trees, so Joe went that direction. However, when he reached the little copse, he had seen nothing of his older brother, and heard no sounds. He flashed his penlight about, but as it had been with the water, the small light didn’t penetrate the brush and trees to any great distance.

Let’s do this the easy way! Joe pulled his cell phone from his pocket and punched the digit that speed-dialed Frank’s cell number. To his surprise, he heard the sound in stereo—the buzzing of the ring through the receiver, and the theme from Mission: Impossible in the middle distance!

Before he could get a fix on exactly where the sound was coming from, Joe was startled to hear crashing footsteps ahead of him, beating a hasty retreat. He ran towards the sounds, still holding his cell phone and allowing the ringing to continue, but his little flashlight provided barely enough illumination for him to make his way through the trees.

"Frank? Wait up, it’s me!" he bellowed, hoping that the fleeing footsteps belonged to his brother. But the footsteps kept retreating, and suddenly Joe realized that the Mission: Impossible theme was behind him now. He swerved towards the sound, his heart beating hard in sudden apprehension.