Fenton took the little post it note she handed to him as Frank signed for the car. "What does it say?" Frank asked.

"I have to call Sheriff Sweeny," Fenton replied. "Over there," he added, spotting a pay phone. He hurried over and dropped in the required fifty cents and dialed the number on the piece of paper.

"Sheriff, this is Fenton Hardy," he said when someone picked up.

"Yes, I am sorry about your wife and son," the sheriff began.

"Thank you," acknowledged Fenton.

"Chief Collig said an empty bag from the drug store was found in Axemeyer’s garbage. He had recently received a prescription for a drug called mathenol. The side effects list included confusion and lethargy. Collig suggested Axemeyer may be drugging Joe and Laura to keep them pliant."

"That would explain why Joe hasn’t been in contact with us," Fenton reasoned. "If he even suspected something was wrong, he would have found a way to get in touch with me."

"Unless he couldn’t," Sweeny said. "Axemeyer may be holding them by force."

"I don’t think so," Fenton disagreed. "He seems delusional and he may become dangerous if he thinks Joe and Laura are going to leave him, but as long as he feels safe, I don’t think he will harm them."

"There’s a lot of ground to cover here," the sheriff informed Fenton. "Do you know where to start?"

"Somewhere away from town. Maybe up in the mountains. Is there any way to see if Axemeyer owns any land around here?" he asked.

"I already checked that out," Sweeny informed him. "He has had a few tickets but otherwise, this town has nothing on him. However," he continued, hearing the deep sigh Fenton emitted, "there is a cabin owned by Josh Sternham about thirty miles outside of town. Sternham also received a traffic violation during the same time frame as Axemeyer. It’s nothing definite, but it may be a place to start looking."

"Is Sternham around now?" Fenton asked.

"Negative," the sheriff answered. "I haven't’ even seen the man, but I do know that his permanent address is listed as being in Sacramento."

"How do we get to the cabin?"

"It’s kind of complicated," was the reply. "But if you’ll meet me at headquarters in forty minutes, I’ll go with you."

"We’ll be there," Fenton promised, then thanked the man before hanging up.

Fenton relayed the information to Frank. "What if the drug doesn’t work so well and Joe and Mom do try to get away from Stan?" Frank asked the question which Fenton had been too terrified to let himself voice.

Fenton shook his head. "Come on, let’s get something to eat before we meet the sheriff. We may need out strength."

***

Joe awoke just after dawn and headed outside. He frowned when he saw the jeep still parked in the drive. He started to get in and see if Stan had left the keys when Stan walked out onto the porch. "What are you doing?" Stan demanded, his eyes narrowing on Joe.

"I think we should hide the jeep," Joe answered. "Anyone flying overhead could spot it."

"You’re right," Stan agreed. "I hadn’t thought of that. I’ll take care of it while you run inside and start on your breakfast. I made bacon and eggs."

"Sounds good," Joe said, smiling. He moved from the jeep and went inside. Stan put the distributor cap back on and drove the jeep into a patch of trees. Again, removing the distributor cap, he covered the jeep with branches to hide it from view. Pleased with his handiwork, he started back inside but paused just shy of entering the doorway as he heard the sound of footsteps from the woods.

He hurried inside to the kitchen where Laura and Joe had already began breakfast, per Stan’s suggestion. Seeing their glasses of juice still almost full, he froze. "Finish your juice," he hissed. "Quickly."

"What’s wrong?" Joe asked.

"Someone is outside," Stan answered. "Drink your juice then go to your room," he ordered. Laura did as she was told but Joe stood up and went tot he window to lookout. "Joseph, drink your juice and go to your room," Stan ordered again, more slowly.

"But," Joe started to argue.

"No buts," Stan said sternly. "Now."

Joe returned tot he table and polished off his juice, wrinkling his nose as he set the empty glass down. "That tasted kind of bitter," he said.

"Must have been a bad batch of concentrate," Stan said. "Now go to your room and keep your head down. I don’t want you getting hurt."

"I want to help," Joe argued, his stubborn streak still evident.

"You can. By doing as your told," Stan told him, frowning. "Now, go."

Joe left the kitchen and went to his room. Stan let out a relieved sigh then went to the fireplace and pulled down the rifle which hung over it. Loading it, he went tot he front door and opened it. He spied Fenton Hardy by the jeep. "Out in the open," Stan ordered, stepping onto the porch and aiming the rifle.

Fenton lifted his hands and came out to stand in front of the cabin. "Where’s Frank?" Stan demanded.

"He’s not here," Fenton told him.

"Don’t lie to me," Stan said, preparing the gun to fire. "I know you. You don’t care about anything but your mysteries."

"That’s not true!" Fenton shouted in shock. How could this man believe that?

"Oh no? Then why would you want Joe to go to the place where the terrorists were going to be? Huh? He could have gotten killed in the crossfire. You don’t deserve to have a wife or a son!"

"I have a wife and TWO sons," Fenton told the man. "And I love them all dearly. I would never do anything to hurt them."

"Then have Frank come out where I can see him or I swear neither of you will leave here alive," Stan snarled.

As Frank stepped into the open, Joe came onto the front porch. He had gone to his room as directed but had decided to help anyway. The terrorists were after him and his mother, not Stan. He was shocked when he saw Stan holding a gun on his father and brother. "What’s going on?" he demanded, looking at Stan in confusion.

"Go back inside, Son," Stan ordered Joe.

"But.."

"Now!" ordered Stan, raising his voice.

Seeing how torn Joe looked, Fenton realized Collig had been right. Axemeyer had been drugging him. "Go on inside, Joe," Fenton told him. He had not intention of him getting hurt and although Stan did seem to care about Joe, he knew that delusional people became violent when their delusions were threatened.

Joe looked like he was suffering from a migraine as he turned and headed inside the cabin.

"What did you do to him?" demanded Frank, making sure Axemeyer’s attention was on him and his dad as he spied the sheriff creeping along the side of the cabin heading toward the back.

"I’m helping my family to adjust," Stan informed him. "Now, get out of here," he ordered the two Hardys. "And don’t worry about Laura and Joe. I’ll take better care of them than you ever could have!"

"We aren’t leaving without them!" Frank shouted angrily.

"Then you die!" Stan said, lifting the rifle level and taking aim.

"No!" Joe shouted, jumping from the doorway and pushing Stan over.

"Joseph! Go to your room," Stan ordered him, shaking him off and getting to his feet.

"Got you!" Frank called out gleefully, running up tot he cabin and grabbing Axemeyer’s arms. He held him tight as his father reached them and picked up the rifle.

The sheriff came charging through the front door a few seconds later and put a pair of handcuffs on Axemeyer. Stan glared at Fenton Hardy. "You don’t deserve them," he snarled.

"Dad’s a wonderful dad," Joe told him.

"Is that why he put his case over spending the day with you?" Stan asked, looking at Joe with compassion. He turned and looked at Fenton once again. "When they are gone, you’ll realize how little fame and fortune mean. You’ll give anything for just one more day with them."

Joe looked down at his feet. he knew exactly what Stan meant. Stan’s grief was so great that he had hoped to replace his wife and unborn child with him and his mother. He still missed Iola. But would he ever have gone to the lengths Stan had to try and replace her? Joe looked back at Stan. "Thanks," he said, ignoring the gasps from his bother and father. "You’ve been great. I know if your child had lived he, or she, would have been proud to have you as a father."

Stan’s eyes began to water as he smiled at Joe and he was crying by the time the sheriff led him away. "Son?" Fenton asked a bit hesitantly. Had Joe meant he didn’t want him anymore?

Joe saw the anguished look on his father’s face and gave him a big hug. "His wife was killed when she was pregnant," explained Joe. "I thought when Iola died my whole world had been extinguished, but you were all there to help me back; to help me let go. I don’t think he had anyone so he never really let them rest in piece."

Frank put an arm around Joe’s shoulders. "We’ll always be there for you," he said.

Joe looked into Frank’s eyes. "I know," he said, his smile slow, but big.

"Come on, you two," Fenton said, putting an arm around Joe’s other shoulder. "Let’s get your mom and go home."

The End