He screeched to a stop and jumped out. He saw Con standing on the porch and ran up to him. "What happened?" he demanded. "Are Frank and Joe alright?"

Con held up his hand. "One question at a time, Fenton. Joe’s in the kitchen. And yes, he’s going to be fine. Frank however-"

Fenton did not wait for Con to finish. He ran inside to the kitchen, where Joe was sitting at the table holding an icepack to his face. Laura was already fussing over him. "Joe, are you OK?" Fenton asked as he sat down, his full attention on his son.

Joe nodded half-heartedly, his eyes on the table. "I let him down, Dad," he whispered.

"Why do you say that?" Laura asked gently.

"I promised I wouldn’t let Ericson get him." Joe looked up at his parents. "I let him down. Frank’s never broken a promise to me!"

Laura put her arms around Joe and he laid his head on her chest. "I let him down, Mom," he repeated. "Frank’s never let me down."

Laura pulled back and cupped his face in her hands. "You did not let Frank down."

Joe nodded again as Con walked in, not believing his mother for an instant.

"I need to take your statement, Joe."

Joe stood up and followed Con to the living room, where Becka and Ned were seated on the couch. Joe sat down in his father’s chair and related the events of the entire evening with an ease that came from lots of practice!

When he was finished, Con asked, "Why didn’t you hear them? Nothing ever gets by the two of you."

Joe grinned sheepishly. "Frank ran the DVD system through the stereo, which is surround sound. We had it turned up too loud."

Con nodded in understanding. He’d been a teenager himself, once. Frank and Joe Hardy were as close as two brothers could be. Con had no doubts that Joe would not give up looking until looking Frank was back home safe and sound. "I’m going to put out an APB on the van, and I’ll let you know when it’s spotted." With that, he stood and left.

Joe went upstairs to his room and sat down on his bed. The terrified expression on Frank’s face refused to leave Joe’s mind. Frank’s martial arts training hadn’t done him any good this time. He was too weak to use it.

Joe went through the bathroom into Frank’s room and lay down on his bed. Piper jumped up and Joe stroked her fur. "I’m going to find you, Frank," he whispered. "And when I do, CJ Ericson will wish he’d never heard the name Hardy!"

Frank very slowly came back into the world of the living. He had no idea where he was, or how long it had been since he’d been kidnapped. His right shoulder throbbed a steady cadence, in tune with the fire rushing through his veins.

He vaguely remembered the van coming to a stop, then a painful prick in his arm. They must’ve switched vehicles. Which means I’m probably outside the city limits, he thought. But where? Since Frank had no idea how long he’d been unconscious, or how long he’d been here, he couldn’t even make a wild guess.

Then he heard voices and a door creaked open. Ericson walked in and flipped a switch, flooding the room with light. Frank squinted as his head exploded with pain. Whatever they’d used on him had some nasty after-effects. "I see you’ve decided to wake up." Ericson squatted down in front of Frank. "I bet that shoulder really hurts doesn’t it?"

Frank said nothing. He just stared at Ericson, trying to read his face without success. He then quickly took in his surroundings.

He was in a cave, and he could faintly hear water lapping against rock in the distance. This particular room was vaguely familiar as well. Then it hit him. "Joe will find me you know."

"I’m looking forward to it, Frank." Ericson stood back up, then aimed a kick at Frank’s ribs. Frank wasn’t strong enough to pull out of the way, but he did manage to deflect the brunt of it. However, it was not enough to escape the pain that engulfed his entire body. Ericson laughed mirthlessly at the expression on Frank’s face, then left the room.

Two days later,

Joe sat bolt upright, his heart racing. He’d been dreaming about Frank. He was cold and hurting, and in the dream, being beaten. He threw the covers back and raced downstairs to his father’s office. He burst in to find Fenton on the phone.

Fenton held up a hand and kept talking for a moment. When he hung up, he turned to Joe. "That was Con. They found the van."

Joe’s eyes lit up, the dream going back to the back of his mind. "Where?"

"The scenic overview just outside city limits on the Shore Road.

"What are we waiting for?" Joe exclaimed.

Fenton eyed his son. "For you to take a quick shower and put some clothes on."

"Oh." With that, Joe raced back upstairs and was ready in record time. After grabbing a bite to eat, they were on their way.

The drive to where the van was parked was one of the longest of Joe’s life. When they arrived, Joe didn’t even wait for his father’s car to come to a complete stop before he was out and running to the van. "Do you know where they went from here?" he asked Con.

Con shook his head. "Sorry, Joe."

Joe visibly deflated and leaned against the van. Fenton walked over and squeezed his shoulder. "We’ll find him, Joe."

"Joe," Con started. "We do have a lead."

Joe looked back up at Con. "A tourist drove by and saw a car parked next to the van. He thought it was suspicious, so he called in the plate number. We’re tracking it down now."

Joe was silent for a moment before he exploded. He aimed all of his anger and frustration at Con. "You think that’s going to lead us to him? CJ Ericson is a cold-blooded killer! He’s been after Frank all summer and you’ve done nothing to stop him!"

"Joseph Hardy that is enough!" Fenton commanded, glaring at his son. "Con did everything he could do."

"Well it wasn’t enough!" With that, Joe pushed through the other officers that had gathered and ran down to the beach.

Fenton started to go after him, but Con laid a hand on his arm. "It’s OK, Fenton. Let him be. I know he didn’t mean it."

Fenton knew Con was right. Joe had merely lashed out in blind anger at the closest target, and he would later regret what he’d said. "I know." Fenton walked over to the edge of the overview and saw Joe standing at the waterline, staring out at the ocean. "Could you leave the van here for when he’s ready to come home?"

Con nodded. Fenton glanced at his son again, then went to his car and wrote a quick note. He placed it on the driver’s seat of the van, then got back in his own car and headed for home.

Joe stayed on the beach until the sun went down, thinking about Frank. He thought back over their cases from the last couple of years. All the places they’d been and the things they’d done. Things most teenagers only dreamed of.

He also finally realized that Ericson might not have to kill Frank. The leukemia could very well take Frank away from Joe before Ericson even had a chance. And Joe couldn’t bear the thought of living without his brother.

"I will NOT think like this!" Joe whispered fiercely to himself. "Frank is not going to die." He pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around them, resting his face on his knees. It was then that his dream came alive in vivid color….

Joe looked up and shook his head to fling away the images of the dream. Frank was not dead, no matter what the voice told him. Wherever that cave was, Frank was in it. Of that Joe was sure. And it was a cave they’d both been in before. Then he remembered.

He stood and brushed the sand from his jeans, then ran back up the trail to the highway. The van was still there, waiting for him as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on. If Joe had stopped to think about it though, he would have realized that there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary going on.

He opened the door to slide in and saw the note from his father. Fenton had gone home to be with Laura, who was near hysterics from worry. Joe stuffed the note in his pocket, jammed the key in the ignition and peeled out of the lot. He bypassed downtown Bayport in favor of the expressway, and almost caused two accidents before arriving home.

As he pulled into the driveway, he saw Fenton heading for his car. "Dad!"

Fenton stopped and Joe ran up to him. "Where are you going?"

"Con thinks they found the second car. It’s out by the old mill."

"They went the other way," Joe said calmly.

"What?" Fenton couldn’t help staring at his son.

Joe repeated what he’d just said, then added, "I think I know where Frank is."

"How?"

"Does that really matter?"

Fenton hesitated a moment. "No. It doesn’t matter to me." He then turned around and went back in the house and straight to his office.

Two hours later Joe was barricaded in Frank’s room. Con had told them the police could not make a raid on privately owned property without due cause. And a dream didn’t qualify as due cause. He’d told Joe that if he found solid evidence that’s where Frank was, he’d lead the raid himself.

Joe had exploded again and was now in serious trouble with both of his parents. But Joe was determined to find his brother, whether he had police backup or not. So he reached for the phone and dialed the number of Biff Hooper. Biff answered on the first ring.

Joe explained everything to his friend. "Will you come with me?"

"What a dumb question, Joe!" Biff told him. "Of course I will."

"Then meet me at the Sleuth’s boathouse at five-thirty in the morning."

Biff whistled. "You are serious. I’ll be there. Where exactly are we going anyway?"

There was a brief moment of silence before Joe answered. "The cave under the old Pollit place."

Biff sucked in a deep breath. "You’re sure?"

"Yes."

"See you in the morning."

"Thanks, pal." Joe hung up the phone, then laid down. "God," he whispered, "Please don’t let me be wrong." He then made sure the alarm was set. Five o’clock came very early, and Joe was convinced that Frank’s life hung in the balance.