“And you want to tell me?” McFadden queried, his face reflecting a hint of surprise.

“I’m not interested in you,” Joe answered. “I don’t care about your crime against Feldman, who, in my opinion only got what he deserved in the first place,” he added, knowing Feldman was a fence for stolen goods. “And as for the burglaries, as far as I am concerned, they are unimportant. You only robbed stores and they are insured.”

“A Hardy doesn’t care about crime,” McFadden demanded, quirking an eyebrow in disbelief. “Why, young Mr. Hardy, if you don’t care, then why are you here?”

“Someone told me about your crimes,” Joe said. “Someone who wants you out of business.”

“Go on,” McFadden said, nodding at the two men who were holding Joe.

Released, Joe took a step closer to the desk McFadden sat behind. “This someone has my brother and I want him back.”

“So you are willing to make a deal with me, is that it?” McFadden inquired. “I help you get your brother back and you don’t say a word?”

“Kind of,” Joe admitted to the guffaws of the men present. “You see, this person sent one of his men to the FBI pretending to be a turncoat. But when we started looking into the crimes of his boss, he kept turning the investigation toward other people whose absence would benefit his so-called former employer.”

“Who?” McFadden demanded.

Joe shook his head. “I want my brother,” he said. “You get the name and I go with you. I get Frank and we leave.”

“Forget it, kid,” McFadden answered. “You won’t even leave here if I don’t get that name.”

“What?” Joe asked his bravado vanishing.

“Tell me who and I let you leave,” McFadden stated. “If you don’t, well, you won’t have to worry about seeing your brother or anyone else ever again.”

“Uh..uh...” Joe swallowed, loudly. “Can’t we...” he began but McFadden cut him off.

“Now,” he ordered.

“Cash Morrison,” Joe answered. “It was one of his men who led me to you.”

Joe exited the bar a couple of minutes later and climbed into the van. “Well?” demanded Biff. “How did it go?”

“Like clockwork,” answered Joe with a smile as he started the van.

***

It was a little after one p.m. when a police car pulled to a stop in front of the Hardy residence. “I’ll go,” Phil said, dropping the curtain and racing to the door.

“You had better go upstairs and wait,” Chet told Tom. “We still don’t know which of the good guys are really on Morrison’s payroll.”

“Good idea,” Tom agreed, smiling. Suckers!

“Mr. Hardy!” Phil greeted him as he exited the passenger side of the police car.

“Phil?” Fenton asked in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“Joe asked us to baby-sit Tom,” Phil explained. He waited until the cruiser’s driver got out and came around before relating the information Joe had asked him too, positive Mr. Hardy would have been told about Joe’s safe return by Chief Collig.

“Where has Joe gone?” Chief Collig demanded before Fenton had the chance.

“I don’t know,” Phil admitted. “But he took Biff with him,” he quickly added so Mr. Hardy wouldn’t be quite so worried. It didn’t work.

“If he has gone after McFadden then he could be in real trouble,” Fenton said, rubbing the back of his neck wearily.

Phil’s cell phone jingled and he pulled it out. “Hello?”

“Phil. Can you talk?” asked Joe.

“Yeah,” Phil said, smiling at Mr. Hardy. “Go ahead, Joe.”

“Did Dad make it home yet?” Joe inquired.

“He just got here,” Phil admitted. “Want to talk to him?”

“Please.”

“Son! Are you all right? Where are you?” Fenton demanded once Phil had relinquished his cell.

“I’m fine and Biff and I are following McFadden,” Joe said. “I think he’s taking us to Morrison’s. We’re on I96 now but I get the feeling we are going to be pulling off before too much longer. Keep Phil’s cell and I’ll let you know when we get there.”

“Will do,” agreed Fenton. “Make sure you stay far enough back so you won’t be seen.”

“Don’t worry,” Joe said. “That would ruin everything.”

“What do you mean?” Fenton asked warily.

“Can you get Tom to want to head back to Morrison’s?” asked Joe. “He needs to be with Morrison for the grand finale or we won’t really have anything on him.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“I only have a general idea,” Joe said. “But it’s getting more cohesive.”

“Joe, come home,” Fenton instructed.

“No can do, Dad,” Joe said. “I’m not coming home without Frank.”

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” Fenton said. “You’ll get yourself, Biff and your brother killed.”

“No, I won’t,” Joe denied. “Just get Tom to go to Morrison. There’s going to be a big showdown between Morrison and McFadden and Tom needs to be there to fan the flames.”

“How?” Fenton demanded.

“Just trust me,” Joe begged. He had been lying when he told his father he only had a general idea but if he had told him the truth, there would be no way he could carry it out. His plan involved putting himself directly in the line of fire and his dad would never have allowed that.