“How could you possibly know who?” demanded a shocked Fenton.

“Because Joe rigged the alarm on each of the downstairs windows differently,” explained Frank. “If someone tried to disconnect the alarm from the next window in the same way as this one was done then the alarm would have gone off.”

“So it had to be someone who was with Joe while he was working on this window,” Fenton said.

“And the only person who was around when Joe worked on the downstairs windows was Stan Axemeyer,” Frank informed his father.

***

“Well, my dear, does it meet with your approval?” asked Stan as he opened the door to her bedroom.

“It’s a beautiful house,” Laura told him truthfully.

“I’m glad you like it,” said Stan, pleased. “I’ll leave you to put your things away,” he said. “They are still in boxes and bags inside the closet.”

“The closet?”

“It’s almost as large as Joe’s bedroom,” Stan said. “I’ll run down and start bringing Joe’s stuff up.”

“I’ll help him put it away,” Laura volunteered not wanting Stan to be alone with Joe. If Stan was as crazy as she believed him to be he could become violent and Joe was basically defenseless with his leg encased.

“You have enough to do,” Stan refused her offer.

“But I’ll be the one having to clean up after him until you take the cast off,” she reminded him. “It will be easier if I know where everything goes and that means...”

“Putting it where you want it,” Stan finished for her with a smile. “All right. I'll just bring it to his room then and leave the rest in your capable hands.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll start lunch after I finish,” said Stan. “I’m sure Joe will be ready for a change of scenery by then.”

***

“Well?” demanded Frank as his father set the receiver back down on the handset.

“According to Agent Dode, Axemeyer is in the custody of a Dr. Gary Rogers in Los Angeles,” Fenton informed Frank.

“So call the doctor,” urged Frank.

“No,” Fenton disagreed. “I think we should pay him a visit.”

“Why?”

“Because if you’re right and Stan is behind Laura’s and Joe’s disappearance then he has to be involved,” explained Fenton. “He has been sending in weekly reports on Axemeyer. If Axemeyer is here in Bayport...”

“Then Rogers has been forging the reports and didn't report his escape,” Frank finished for him.

“If he did escape,” Fenton put in. At Frank’s look of confusion he explained. “Why would he be sent across the country for care unless someone pulled some strings?”

“And Stan is originally from California,” added Frank, his voice grim and eyes hard. “When do we leave?”

“As soon as I call Jack,” said Fenton, lifting the receiver again. “Pack an overnight just in case we have to stay,” he added. Fenton began dialing as Frank ran upstairs.

***

“Eat up,” instructed Stan. Laura and Joe both sat quietly picking at the food on their plates. Not once had either of them lifted the fork to their mouths.

“I’m not hungry,” muttered Joe.

“Me either,” concurred Laura. Both remembered the last time they had been unknowingly abducted by Stan. He had drugged them each time they ate or drank anything.

“Joseph, you have to be hungry,” Stan said with a worried frown. “You didn’t touch the breakfast I brought you this morning. And Laura, you haven't had anything since lunch yesterday.”

“Fine!” snarled Joe, giving up the pretense and tossing his fork down with such force that it bounced and jumped to the floor. “We aren’t eating because we don’t want to be drugged again.”

“You’re home,” Stan reasoned calmly. “Why would I drug you again?”

“To make us more controllable like the last time,” Laura said. “Don’t try to deny it,” she added quickly, her brows coming together with a scowl. “Fenton found the bottle of medicine you used on us.”

“That was different,” said Stan. “The situation was volatile. Remember? Someone kept attacking Joe. I had to use every means available to get the two of you to safety,” he explained in his own defense. “But you are safe here. No one can hurt either of you and there’s no way for you to get in touch with those Hardys. They won’t be interfering,” he added with a slight smile because he believed they were being dealt with by Tarlton. “Now you have time to accept your new life. To accept me.”

“Why should we believe you?” demanded Joe.

“What choice do you have?” countered Stan. “You can’t leave and unless you eat you will starve to death. Look,” he continued exasperatedly as they shot him mutinous glares. “Don’t eat lunch if you don’t want to. Laura, you can prepare everything from now on and then you will know I am telling the truth.”

Joe rolled his wheelchair back from the table. “Fine. I’ll eat mom’s cooking but not yours.”

Laura set her fork down as well. “Okay,” Stan said, rising. “Laura, would you please prepare us all some lunch?” he requested. “I will take Joe outside for some fresh air and show him around.”

Tight-lipped, Laura nodded her acquiescence. She didn’t want Joe alone with Stan but under the circumstances she really had no choice. If she voiced her objection Stan might get violent. She was amazed he had remained so patient when Joe had thrown his fork.

Joe had no qualms about being alone with Stan. Either the fact he could grow violent escaped him or else Joe truly believed Stan was doing what he thought was best for them in the only way he knew. “Mom doesn’t like me being around you,” Joe said as Stan pushed him outside.

“I could tell,” acknowledged Stan with a slight smile. “Her lips get tight and her eyes shrink just a fraction,” he explained. “But I’m not going to hurt you. Or her. I love you both very much.”

“You know it isn’t too late to start your own family,” Joe pointed out. “A real one. Not one you have to steal from someone else.”

“I know,” Stan admitted. “But there’s a problem with that plan.” Joe lifted his brows in question. “I love you and your mother. It doesn’t matter if you love me or not. I am going to do everything in my power to keep the both of you safe.”

“But you’re hurting us by keeping us away from the people we love and who love us,” Joe tried to reason with him.

“That kind of hurt you can deal with,” Stan told him. “Getting killed is another matter entirely.”

“But...” Joe started but Stan would not let him continue.

“Enough,” Stan stated firmly. “The subject is not open for discussion. You and Laura will never return to the Hardys.”

“We are Hardys,” Joe stated firmly.

“Not any more,” Stan told him. “And if you say any more you will go inside and forfeit this nice afternoon in the fresh air.”

Almost forty minutes later Laura called from the doorway that lunch was ready. Stan wheeled Joe back inside and to the bathroom to wash up and then to the table.

“Mom, can you help me with my math?” asked Joe after they had finished eating.

“Of course,” Laura replied as Stan opened his mouth to offer.

“Well then,” Stan said instead. “I’ll do the dishes while you help Joe.” He smiled at Joe proudly. “I’m glad to see you have decided to try.”

“As you said earlier,” Joe replied with a shrug. “What choice do I have?”

Stan helped Joe back upstairs and onto the bed then left him and Laura alone and returned downstairs. Joe took a slip of paper and wrote down one word. Bugs?

Laura searched the room for hidden microphones before sitting down beside Joe. “The room is clean,” she said. “You don’t have to take this home schooling thing seriously,” she told him. “Your father will find us.”

“I know,” Joe concurred. “Especially if he and Frank have help from us.”

“How?” she asked. “There’s no phone, radio or Internet. And,” Laura added, “I’m betting he has done something to the car so it won’t run.”

“You’re probably right,” agreed Joe. “But I saw something near the garage while Stan and I were outside. There’s a bicycle almost completely hidden by the ivy against the far side.”

“He probably knows it’s there,” Laura told him.

“But I doubt he knows you know,” Joe told her.

“No,” Laura stated firmly, knowing exactly what Joe was getting at. “I will not leave you alone with him.”

“Mom, you have too. Dad and Frank will never find us without help. Stan’s covered his tracks. He knows how we operate.”

“Joe, he’s dangerous!” Laura hissed, still fighting the idea.

“I don’t think so,” Joe disagreed with her. “But regardless, it’s our only chance. Tomorrow morning when he comes in to give me my new assignments you have to sneak downstairs and take the bike. I will keep him occupied as long as I can but once he finds out you’re gone he will probably take the car and go after you.”

“Joe...”

“Please, mom?” begged Joe. “It’s the only way.” Tight-lipped, Laura nodded her agreement.

The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The Hardy Boys Fan Fiction authors of the Hardy Detective Agency have just borrowed them for an adventure or two. The authors promise to put the boys back when they are done with them. The authors do claim copyright to the original characters in this story. Please do not borrow original characters without express permission of the authors.