Joe grinned at him. "Thanks," he said, digging in. As they ate, the two men behind them got up and left the diner. Joe wanted to follow but Stan reminded him the men had a car and they didn't.

After Joe and Stan finished, Stan left a tip, paid the bill and the two exited the diner, not noticing the motorcycle across the street with the rider who was watching them intently.

"Thanks for breakfast," Joe said. "I'll have to treat you next time."

"Think nothing of it," Stan told him as they made their way back to Elm Street where they separated.

About twenty minutes later, the same light green car arrived ont he block and pulled down to the far side of the street. The driver got out and met up with the motorcyclist and the two men approached the Axemeyer residence. Guns at the ready, one man knocked on the door. When Stan opened, he was forced back at gunpoint as the two men entered the house.

***

When Joe arrived home, he kissed his mom on the cheek and went upstairs to shower and change. Dressed in jeans and a tee shirt, he headed downstairs. "Mom, I’m going over to The Excelsior," he said. "Keep the alarm on."

"No," she asserted, her face stern. "I don’t want you going back there."

"I’m not working. I just want to see if Callie and Chet got jobs there," Joe begged.

"You can call," she told him, her blue eyes staring at him suspiciously.

"Mom, please? I need to check out the room Frank found that guy in," Joe confessed his real reason for going. "He won’t be there."

"Didn’t the police already search it?" Laura demanded, arching an eyebrow.

"Yeah, but they may have missed something. Please?" he asked again, giving her his patented pettish look.

"All right," she relented. "But be careful."

"I will," Joe promised, giving her a thank you hug and a peck on the cheek before heading out.

Joe opened the driver’s door and was about to get into the van when Stan’s front door opened and a muffled voice shouted to him. "Joe, could you come over here for a minute?"

Joe closed the door and ran over to Stan’s and up to the front door. "In here," he was told. As he entered, someone grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back at the same time a revolver was placed against his forehead.

"Nice and quiet," he was ordered. Joe looked to his left from the corner of his eye and saw one of the men from the cafe standing beside Stan who sat tied to a kitchen chair, his mouth covered with gray tape.

"Bobby’s going to move the gun from your head now," the man beside Stan said. "You will put your other arm behind your back and let him tie them together. If not..." He aimed a gun at Stan’s head.

As soon as the cold metal left his skin, Joe obeyed his instructions and let himself be tied up. Some gray tape was then put over his mouth. "Pete," Bobby said as he finished taping Joe’s mouth. "Want I should have the car brought around?"

Pete nodded at Bobby then turned back to Stan. "You tell his old man that if he doesn’t cease all investigating and interference on this case, Blondie here will pay the ultimate price."

***

Almost three hours later, Frank stumbled out of bed and headed into the bathroom. After showering and dressing, he went into Joe’s room. Not finding him there, he went downstairs. "Where’s Joe?" he asked his mother.

"He went over to The Excelsior," she answered. "He wanted to recheck one of the rooms for clues."

"How long has he been gone?" Frank asked.

"About three hours," Laura answered, a worried look crossing her face. "You don‘t think he ran into trouble, do you?"

"I don’t know," Frank admitted with a frown. "I’ll head over there and see if anyone’s seen him."

"Be careful," Laura told him.

"I will," Frank promised and headed outside, stopping in surprise when he saw the van still parked in the driveway. He thought Joe might have taken his bike but when he turned to look in the open garage, he saw Joe’s and his own bike still parked there.

He was contemplating where Joe could have gone without wheels when he heard a muffled shout from next door. Frank ran over and pushed open the door which was standing partially open. A shiver raced down his spine when he saw Stan tied to a chair.

Frank hurried over and pulled the tape off of Stan’s mouth. "What happened?" he demanded, bending down and starting to untie Stan.

"They took Joe," Stan said, his voice frantic. "They said if your dad didn’t stop all his investigating, they would kill him."

Frank paled. "No, they won’t," he declared. "Because I am going to find him," he vowed, finishing undoing the last knot keeping Stan immobile.

"You have to call your father and tell him to stop," Stan ordered Frank, standing up, his legs weak but supportive.

"I can’t," Frank replied, wishing he could.

"Why not?" thundered Stan.

"He’s undercover," Frank explained. "I don’t know how to get in touch with him."

"There must be some way," Stan pushed. "You have to call him."

"I just told you," Frank said sternly. "I don’t know how to get in touch with him. If I could, I would."

"What kind of man takes off and won’t even let his own family know how to reach him in an emergency?" Stan snarled.

"I know you’re upset," Frank began. "I am too, but..."

"You have a funny way of showing it," Stan snapped.

Frank was about to lose his temper but then he realized that Stan and Joe had gotten close over the weekend and Stan wasn’t used to this type of situation. "Let’s call the police," Frank said. "They can start a search."

"I guess that’s okay," Stan agreed. "They didn’t say anything about telling the police."

Frank called the police on his cell phone then called his mom and told her to come over to Stan’s. When she arrived, Stan took her arm and led her to the sofa. "What’s going on?" she demanded, confused by the sad look in Stan’s eyes and the worried scowl on Frank’s face.

"Joe’s been kidnapped," Frank informed her.

"The man from the hotel?" Laura asked.

Stan nodded. "How do you know?" Frank asked.

"A good question," stated Chief Collig from the doorway. He entered the house followed by Officer O’Brien.

"Joe told me this morning," Stan said, then launched into an account of their trip to the diner. As he spoke, someone new arrived on the scene and stood in the doorway unnoticed, listening.