“Th..thank you,” said Fenton. He replaced the receiver with trembling hands. “Laura! Frank!” he shouted as he raced out of his office and down the stairs to the foyer.

“What is it?” Laura demanded entering from the living room.

“What’s wrong Dad?” asked Frank from behind his mother.

“Joe’s been hurt,” Fenton informed them. “Lock up,” he ordered them. “I’ll pull the car around front.”

“How bad?” Laura asked before he could go outside.

“I don’t know,” Fenton admitted. “The caller said he was being taken by ambulance to Bayport General.”

They arrived at the hospital in just under twenty minutes. While Fenton parked the car, Frank and Laura ran into the emergency room to get word on Joe.

“We’re looking for Joe Hardy,” Frank informed the nurse at the station. “He just came in a few minutes ago.”

“Are you sure you’re at the right hospital?” the nurse inquired. “The only person who has come in recently was a young woman and that was almost an hour ago.”

“Your father said Bayport General,” Laura reminded Frank.

“Let me call Bayport Memorial and see if they have him,” the nurse said. She picked up the phone and placed the call as Fenton came rushing into the emergency room.

“How is he?” Fenton demanded.

“Not here,” Frank replied with a grim expression.

“I’m sorry,” the nurse said when she hung up. “No one by that name has been admitted there today.”

“Who called you?” Frank demanded turning on his dad.

“I didn’t think to ask,” Fenton confessed. “I was too upset when he told me Joe was hurt.”

“Why would someone tell us Joe was here if he wasn’t?” Laura asked.

“To get us away from the house,” Fenton guessed. “Let’s go,” he said and took off with Laura and Frank behind him. “Frank,” Fenton said once they were in the car. “Call home. We have to warn your brother that someone may be in the house.”

“Or booby-trapping it,” Frank added.

***

Joe knelt down by the trashcan near the end of the alley as another cry for help permeated the air. He moved a paper bag from the top of a pile of debris and found a tape recorder. He picked it up as another shout came from its speaker.

“That’s weird,” said the store’s employee. “Why would anyone want to do that?”

“A practical joke,” Joe suggested with a shrug. “But it cost them a tape recorder,” he added, putting the device into his pocket. He would take it home and let his dad and Frank hear it and then to the police station if his dad wanted him to turn it in.

Joe followed the man into the store and made his purchase. When he came out he was disgruntled to find that two of his tires were losing air. He drove to the gas station across the street and filled them up before heading home.

He was surprised to find the front door locked and even more perplexed to discover no one was at home. There wasn’t even a note saying where they had gone. Joe carried the milk into the kitchen and placed it in the refrigerator. As he closed the door of the fridge he felt a prick in his neck. He spun around, grabbing at his neck as he did so. His mouth fell open in shock even as his eyes began to close. As he fell forward, strong arms caught him and lifted him up. He was carried outside and to a blue Toyota Camry that had its back door open.

Once Joe was safely inside, the door was shut and the driver’s door opened. Seconds later the car was driving down Elm Street with no one about to give it a second glance.

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.