Agent Patrick stared Frank in the eyes then turned and left.  Frank sat back down amid the stunned stares of his friends.  Joe, grinning, broke the ice.  "My hero," he said.

"Oh boy!  Does that guy ever have it in for you," Chet observed to Joe.  "What did you do?"

Joe gave a noncommittal shrug, but Frank explained about Joe's and Agent Patrick's first meeting.  Iola let out a low whistle.  "Great," she told him with a touch of sarcasm.  "You set out to help Jim and get yourself in hot water instead."

"How did you find out about Jeffery Thompson and Greg Petrie?" Callie asked.  "I can't imagine Agent Patrick was helpful."

"We talked to Jim's mom, but most of what we have came from past newspaper articles," Frank admitted.

"What's up first?" Chet asked as the waitress brought over Frank's and Joe's orders.

"Ramster," Joe replied, picking up a slice of pizza.  "He should be able to tell us what Devon was wearing, the position of the body and how the murderer managed to get inside the church," he added, taking a bite.

"Then at the game tonight, we'll try and talk to Petrie," Frank put in.

"And pick up Mrs. Barley's datebook for the year Devon was murdered," Joe threw in.

"Need some help?" Callie asked, lifting an eyebrow in an expression that mimicked Frank's inquisitive one so well.

"Ready to take on the SBI and the murder?" Frank asked.

"With pleasure," she replied, grinning.

"Count me in," Iola said forcefully, grabbing Joe's arm and squeezing it.  She was still steamed at Agent Patrick's harassment of Joe.

"Me too," Chet declared, his eyes narrowed as if defying anyone to argue.

After the teens had finished, Frank checked the phone book and got the address for Devon's parents.  He gave it to Joe and Iola who took the van to see them.  Chet, Frank, and Callie drove to St. Francis' church in Callie's car to speak with Kevin Ramster who turned out to be the local priest. 

"Excuse me," Frank said, keeping his voice low in respect as they entered the church and saw a man in his middle thirties rifling through some papers on the front pew.  The curly brown-headed man looked up and his blue eyes looked inquisitively at the trio.  "My name is Frank Hardy and this is Callie Shaw and Chet Morton," Frank introduced himself and friends.  "We're looking for Kevin Ramster."

"You found him," the priest replied, smiling.  "How may I help you?" he inquired, setting down the papers he held in his hands and standing up.

"We'd like to ask you some questions about Devon Miller," Frank said.

"The young boy that died three years ago?" Father Ramster inquired.  Frank nodded.  "Why?"

"A friend of my brother's was arrested for the murder," Frank explained.  "Joe believes he's innocent."

"As do I," admitted Father Ramster.  "Jim and his mother have been parishoners here since before I was appointed.  Jim may be large for his age, but he could never hurt anyone.  Especially not Devon."  He paused and looked at Frank, squinting as if remembering something.  "Frank Hardy, you said.  And your brother is Joe."  Frank nodded.  "You must be Fenton's son."

"Yes, Sir," Frank admitted with a nod.  "You know my father?"

"He was called in to help try and find Devon's killer when it happened," Father Ramster admitted.  "You haven't discussed this case with him yet?" he inquired curiously.

"Joe made the authorities mad at him and Mr. Hardy had to go to headquarters and clear up the misunderstanding," Chet said without thinking.

Callie and Frank held their breath waiting for Father Ramster's opinion of Joe's argumentative nature.  They were completely surprised when he broke out in a hearty laugh.  "Ah, yes," he said.  "That does sound like Joe."

Now Frank was confused.  Joe hadn't admitted to knowing the priest.  "Sir," he asked.  "You know my brother?"

"Never met him," Father Ramster admitted.  "But Jim has told me such wonderful things about him, I feel I do."

"Like what?" Callie asked, unable to hide her curiosity.

"For starters, Jim has told me there have been several occasions when some other kids were picking on him, but Joe stepped in and stopped it.  Jim has also told me how your brother, when walking Jim home from playing basketball one day, had seen a little girl being attacked by a dog.  Jim said Joe took a big stick and tried to chase the dog away, but it wouldn't go.  As I recall, Jim said the dog turned on Joe and bit him, but Joe managed to keep the dog away from the little girl until a policeman arrived."

"I remember that," Frank said.  "Joe had to have rabies shots."

"Jim still comes in every Saturday night telling me how much fun he has playing basketball with Joe or about the comic book Joe brought over and helped him read," Father Ramster added.

"I had no idea," Frank said introspectively.

"Where did you think Joe went when he sees Jim?" Callie asked.

"I didn't know he went anywhere," Frank admitted.  "He must be visiting Jim when I go online for my weekly chess game with Flyboy."

"I wonder why he never invited Jim on any of our outings?" Chet asked thoughtfully.

"Probably because he wouldn't have been allowed to go," Father Ramster said.  "Mrs. Barley keeps a vigilant eye on her son.  She won't let him out of her sight except for Saturday mornings when she leaves him at the park with Joe."

"No wonder Joe was so sure Jim didn't kill Devon," Chet stated.

"Father Ramster, could you please tell us about finding Devon's body?" Frank asked, getting back to the matter at hand.

"I noticed a light had been on so I entered through the front of the church that morning and saw Devon's body.  He was lying on his back on the altar," Father Ramster informed the teens.

"What was he wearing?" Frank asked.

"He had on a blue denim shirt which had been buttoned up wrong and a pair of dirty blue jeans.  His shoes and socks were missing," he paused, remembering.  "He just lay there with his eyes wide open."

"How was he killed?" Chet asked.

"The poor child," Father Ramster said with a shudder.  "I believe the official report said he had been beaten to death but the killer had taken a shoestring and wrapped it tightly around Devon's neck in an attempt to make it look like he had been strangled."

"Did he have any friends besides Jim?" Frank asked.

"I couldn't really say," was the response.  "The Lenins attended church every Saturday night but they never socialized with the other parishoners or me," Father Ramster informed them.

"Lenins?" Chet asked.  "I thought Devon's last name was Miller."

"Devon never took his step-father's last name," Frank explained to his friend.  "Thank you for your time," Frank said, reaching out and shaking Father Ramster's hand.

"Anytime," Father Ramster offered.  "Why don't you three, and your families, attend our services this coming Saturday night?" he suggested.

"We may do that," Frank said.  "We normally attend St. Elizabeth's."

"With Father Cunningham," the priest said.

"That's right," Frank replied, then thanked him again before leaving.

***

Joe and Iola left Mr. Pizza and got into the van.   Joe pulled out into traffic and got on the interstate heading toward the opposite side of town where the Lenin's lived. 

They hadn't been traveling long when Joe noticed a car following them.  He kept glancing in the rearview mirror until he managed to get a look at the driver.  It was Agent Patrick.  "I really don't like this guy," Joe told Iola as he put on a burst of speed and began passing other cars.

Patrick's car kept up the pace.  "Blast it!" Joe said in frustration.  "He knows I know he's following us."

"What are you going to do?" Iola asked, looking in her side mirror.

"Lose him," Joe said, then glanced over at Iola to make sure she had fastened her safety belt.

Joe took the next exit and made a quick right.  Patrick followed, pulling up close behind the van.  Joe drove straight for a mile before he came upon a yellow light, seconds away from being a red one.  Joe slowed down.  Patrick did likewise.  Just as the light changed to red, Joe hit the gas and the van pulled through the intersection.  Patrick had to wait while four cars drove by before following Joe.

But that was all the time Joe had needed.  He made a sharp right, then another almost immediately.  He pulled the van to a halt and waited.  He saw Patrick speed by and pulled out of the street he had been on and made another right.

"I thought you were going to lose him, not follow him," Iola stated in confusion.

"Watch," Joe told her with a grin.  At the next red light, Patrick came to a stop and slammed his hand down on the steering wheel.  Joe pulled up behind Patrick and laid down on the horn.

Patrick's eyes automatically went to his rearview mirror where he saw a smiling Joe waving at him.  Before he could react, Joe swerved the wheel and gunned the engine, making a U-turn.  Patrick was prevented from following by the rush of traffic from the opposite direction as the light turned green.  By the time he had gotten his car turned around, the van was long gone.

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