From the police report, the remote control Tessa must have used had not only sent out radio signals which disrupted the van’s radio system but could have also blocked other radio signals from outside and most probably, prevented radio waves from inside from being sent out too.

Frank felt a lump in his throat as he thought about his previous attempts to call Joe on his cell-phone. That was probably when it all happened, he thought, greatly dismayed. He couldn’t help thinking that if he had only called Joe a few minutes earlier, he would have gotten the chance to-to-talk to his brother. For the last time. If only he had, he doubted he’d feel as crushed as he was now, worried sick, not even knowing whether Joe was alive or dead.

As Frank sat in his chair, staring at the mysterious note on the table he was aware of his father coming into the room, the scent of hot, strong coffee wafting through the small interrogation room, which the police chief had kindly lent them, understanding Frank’s dire needs to be left alone. He needed to think. Joe’s life could depend on it. And Vanessa’s too. Chief Collig had been sympathetic and promised that the police would do everything they can.

Oh Joe, where are you? Frank buried his face in his hands. Drawing in a deep breath, he slowly raked his fingers through his dark hair, his healing nails clawing into his scalp. Think, Hardy. Think. She’s obviously given you a clue. If you think hard enough, the answer will come to you. Just calm down and think.

But Frank soon found out that it was easier said than done. Every time he tried to concentrate on the matter at hand, every time he forced himself to think, he could feel his focus slipping away and Frank found himself thinking about Joe more and more.

Frank shuddered inwardly as he tried to erase the image of the crushed face, which he had thought was Joe’s. He couldn’t describe the feeling but when he saw the body… Grief couldn’t begin to describe how he had felt. For a second he thought the dream had come back to haunt him, the nightmare, which had somehow become reality. It was something he never wanted to go through again.

PLAY WITH ME, JOE

Fenton scrutinized the note, searching carefully for any clues, hints, anything that could break the code. Or is there even one? His sharp eyes narrowed as they studied the piece of poetry word by word. Play with me, Joe, he read. His forehead creased in a frown. Fenton leaned back against his seat, crossing his arms across his chest in momentary confusion.

What do they want with Joe? And why are they holding Joe and Vanessa? Fenton wondered. After finding the note she’d left in the van, Fenton had been certain that this wasn’t any normal kidnapping. Somehow he got the feeling the abduction was all tied up to all the things that happened for the past few weeks. I thought it was Frank they wanted. Not that he wanted Frank to be the victim instead of Joe but still, it got him to think. Then why?

"Frank, did you notice that the letters in the first, the third and the ninth lines of the poem are slightly bigger compared to the rest of the poem?" Fenton asked.

Frank took the piece of paper from his father and studied it closely. "Hmm, you’re right, Dad. I wonder if it could mean something."

"Let’s find out." Find something that all three lines have in common. And compare it with the rest of the clue. "And the song you listened on the radio. Do you have the lyrics?"

"It’s right here," Frank said, handing his father another piece of paper. He watched as his father scribbled furiously on another piece of paper, all the while referring to the poem and also the lyrics to the song, fascinated. As a child, he had always loved the way his father worked; organized, systematic and so orderly. He had always gotten the best results too. Frank always prided himself on inheriting those characteristics from his father and was always chiding Joe on his usual messy way of doing things. Oh Joe, if only you could tell us where you are.

"Y-You’re supposed to be dead…" Vanessa croaked out. She blinked a couple of times but her vision still remained blurry and fuzzy. And her lips felt swollen when she tried to speak; in fact her whole face felt swollen but both her arms hurt too much for her to lift them to feel it for herself. Broken was her best guess.

"Am I?" Craig smiled benignly at her. There was no mistaking it, it was the same raven black hair, the same intense dark eyes. "How are you feeling, Vanessa?"

"W-What’s going on?" Vanessa was starting to panic. Her head was throbbing in constant beat to the heavy poundings of her heart as it slammed against her bruised ribcage. "Why can’t I move?" She turned her head from side to side wildly. "And wh-what is this place? And where’s Joe? What have you done to him?"

"Tsk-tsk. Too many questions." The Swede came closer and sat down slowly on the bed next to Vanessa. Laughter twinkled in his eyes as Vanessa jerked her head away but his hand still managed to graze her swollen cheek. "I never liked talkative girls that much. Tessa was talkative, you know."

Hurting as she was, Vanessa even amazed herself at how much she could still remember and she wasted no time keeping it from Craig. Her arms spreading out lifelessly beside her, Vanessa tried to raise herself up but gasped instead when fiery pain ran up her spine, and she fell against the mattress, glaring hatefully at Craig. "Why are you keeping me here? And which Tessa are you talking about? Are you in this together with them? Did you plot your own death?"

Craig stared blankly at her for a few seconds but then a slow smile crept up his lips. "Questions. Nothing but questions and false promises ever pass your sweet lips, isn’t that right, Vanessa?"

Vanessa’s eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"

"I’ve been waiting for this moment since we first met, Vanessa. You and me, alone…with no one to stand in our way. I though we had something going on between us, you and me. Craig is dead and zap, you are back together with him."

"There never has been anything between us, Craig and you know it. You’re a liar and a murderer-I don’t know how you pulled it off, but I really wished you were dead!" Vanessa hissed, her eyes blazing when he reached out his hand to touch her again. "And don’t you dare touch me, you-you monster!!!!"

"Oh I can touch whenever and wherever I want, sweet Vanessa. Baby…isn’t that what your dear boyfriend used to call you? Too bad you will never hear him call you that again." Horrified blue-gray eyes met steel-gray ones and Craig burst into laughter. His eyes cold, he began to take his jacket off slowly, revealing his characteristically muscular build.

No, Vanessa thought numbly. Please no. Her mind was screaming for her to move, do something, anything; but her body refused to listen to her silent commands and paralyzed, she could only watch in horror as Craig took off his shirt, revealing his bare torso.

"So what do you say, baby? Don’t you want to make little Craigy happy?"