“No, it isn’t,” Vanessa stated firmly although her eyes were watering. “Joe’s been teaching me how to wrestle,” she explained. “I’ve gotten really good at some of the moves. Especially the dropkick one,” she added. “I can take Joe down in seconds with that one every time.”

“And?” prodded Fenton, the nagging that had started the previous day pounding in his brain.

“And just now that...that creep acted like I would never be able to use the maneuver on him,” Vanessa continued. “Look, I know you didn't think Joe was Joe before but that was the real Joe!”

“But he ran away after I sent him to his room,” Fenton objected a bit weakly.

“Of course he did!” Vanessa shouted in exasperation. “Do you honestly think Joe would let Frank walk into a trap and not try to help him even if he didn't want the help?”

“Oh, God,” croaked Frank, his face white. “Dad,” he said, gripping his father's right arm. “Joe’s in jail in a foreign country. There’s no telling what is happening to him there!”

“Easy,” ordered Fenton. “I’ll call the authorities over there and take care of it. In the meantime, don’t let on that we know he isn’t your brother.”

“But...”

“No buts,” Fenton stated. “These people have gone to a lot of trouble to get this imposter here. We need to find out why.”

“I can’t,” Vanessa said. “Looking at him makes me sick. I have to go home. Tell him my mom called or something. Oh, and Frank, you are supposed to help him change. He has soup on his shirt.”

“I’ll tell him I sent you home so he could rest,” Fenton said. “And Vanessa,” he added as she started to leave. “Thank you.”

“Just get him back,” she replied.

“We will,” vowed Frank. “What about mom?” asked Frank when Vanessa had left.

“I’ll fill her in,” Fenton said. “You go on upstairs,” he instructed. “Try not to leave him alone any longer than you have too. There’s no telling what he will be into.”

As Frank headed up the stairs, Fenton went into the kitchen to break the news to his wife. Ten minutes later, with a shirt that was wet with tears, Fenton headed upstairs to his office. He looked up the number in the yellow pages online and called the commandant in Madritsara.

“Commandant, this is Fenton Hardy,” Fenton said when he was put through. “I need to talk to you about the young man whom you arrested at the hospital last night,” he said.

“Excuse me?” asked the commandant. “I don't know what you are talking about,” he said. “There was no arrest made at the hospital.”

“The boy who we thought was an imposter broke into the hospital room where Frank and the real imposter were last night,” explained Fenton. “He was arrested. But there was a major mix up. We have the imposter here and you have my son in jail.”

“Mr. Hardy, I assure you, we do not have your son in our jail,” the commandant insisted. “No Americans have been arrested since Mr. Baldwin was apprehended three days ago.”