Frank looked surprised for a moment before putting down the phone.  ”That’s strange.”

“What?”  Chet asked, coming out of the bathroom.

“Well, I tried Pharaoh’s cell number but he doesn’t have it on.”

“Maybe he’s home and turns it off then,” supplied Chet, thinking about how he did that sometimes to save money.  Frank knew what he thinking.

“No, that’s not it.  Pharaoh is not concerned about saving airtime.  He pays for the cell he gave Joe as a gift, and trust me, money isn’t a concern for him,” reminded Frank.

“Have you tried calling the house?” suggested Phil.

“No.  I never got the number from Dad,” Frank said, mentally kicking himself for not getting both numbers.  He smiled though as his sandy-haired friend held up the classified page and pointed to an ad with his finger.

“Well, I just happen to have it right in front of me,” Phil laughed, and read the number out to Frank who quickly dialed it.

The phone started to ring and Frank waited, growing increasingly impatient with each unanswered ring.  Finally, after about ten rings, he heard a deep nasal voice.

“Plyth Estate,” the man said.

“Can I speak to Pharaoh Plyth?”  Frank asked sweetly. 

He heard the man rustling with some papers as he responded, “I’m sorry, you’ve dialed the wrong number. “ 

“Isn’t this the Plyth Estate?”  Frank tried to confirm, although the man had already answered the phone as such.

“Yes but this is the office, not the house,” the man explained, trying to sound patient, but he really had a lot of other things he needed to be doing right now, “If you’re looking for a job this is the right number,” he explained, “So if you’ll excuse me—”

Frank cut the man off before he could hang up.  “Can you transfer me to the house?”

“No, you’ll need to dial it directly.”  The voice then continued, knowing what the next question would be, “I can’t give out the number, it’s unlisted.  Good day.” 

The phone clicked off before Frank could say anything else.

“Sorry,” Phil apologized, “I just thought it would get you into the house.”

The dark haired boy just shook his head.  “It sounded like a good plan.  I should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.”

“Now what?” Biff wanted to know.

“I’ll call home – it’s still early morning, so Dad should be there.”

Frank walked out onto the balcony as he waited for his parents to answer their phone. 

It was a beautiful day, and he sighed as he looked out at the beach, wishing he was on a real vacation. The translucent blue waters called to him – he was almost as much a ‘beach bunny’ as his younger brother…

“Hardy residence,” Frank finally heard his father’s voice.  He could tell his father had been asleep.

The teen felt bad for waking his dad up, but he really needed the number and knew his father would never complain.  Fenton was as worried about Joe as he was.

A few minutes later, Frank was redialing from his cell phone, grimacing slightly as he thought about how much his bill was going to be by the time he got home!

The phone in the Plyth mansion, started to ring….

* * *

Joe walked into the kitchen and was surprised to see that it was empty. 

He’d been expecting Mrs. Corradi to be here, but seeing his meal on the table, decided she must have had something else to do.

Grimacing when he saw the teacup, he pushed it to the side and sat down. 

Taking a bite of the food, he started thinking about Frank.  He regretted not pulling the older boy out of class and making him go with him.

Oh well, he though, hindsight is 20/20.

As the food went down his throat, Joe started to gag! 

Grabbing the tea, he took a couple of large gulps to wash out his mouth.  The food was full of pepper!

“What the…!” he gasped as he was finally able to breathe again. 

Mrs. Corradi was the best cook ever!  What had happened to the food? 

Now he had the equally horrible taste of tea in his mouth and stood up to get a glass of water.

Feeling a bit lightheaded, he immediately sat back down to wait for his head to clear…but it didn’t.

In fact it got worse….

As the dizziness increased, Joe knew that something was wrong and became alarmed as the realization struck him full force – he’d been drugged!

Need ta get ‘elp, his foggy mind yelled at him. 

Taking a deep breath Joe forced himself up from the table and staggered towards the phone…but his legs crumpled underneath him!

Dropping heavily to the floor, the last thing he saw was a stranger walking towards him….

* * *

Pain!

Struggling back to consciousness, Joe felt a searing pain in his left arm!

Someone had propped him back up at the table – a someone with a knife, and he was trying to cut Joe’s wrist!!

Reacting instinctively, the drugged teen raised his broken arm…and bracing himself for the pain, slammed it against his attacker’s head!

Unaware that Joe was awake, the blow was unexpected and stunned the man, knocking him to the floor and giving Joe the chance he needed…or so he hoped!

Staggering to his feet, he gasped in pain and tried to use his right hand to put pressure on his wrist as he burst out of the kitchen. 

Wildly, Joe looked around for someone to help him…anyone…even as he heard his attacker getting back on his feet…but there was no one!

The house was empty.

Then the phone in the foyer started to ring and Joe lurched towards it knowing he couldn’t keep this up for long!

His vision blurring as darkness threatened to suck him back, Joe made a desperate lunge for the phone just as his attacker tackled him…and the phone fell to the floor beside them!

Joe managed to get out one small yelp before the man cruelly pinned him, placing his hand over Joe’s mouth as he did – the boy couldn’t make any sound…he could barely breathe!

As consciousness fled, he saw a dark-haired young man putting the phone back on the receiver. 

Frank….  

* * *

“Hello!  Hello!”  Frank was frantically yelling in the phone as he heard the line click in his ear.  Pushing the redial, his stomach was in a tight knot.  ”Please let me be wrong,” he whispered desperately, “please let me be wrong…!”

Biff, Phil, Tony and Chet exchanged worried looks – what was going on?

A male voice answered the phone on the second ring, “Plyth Estate.” 

The voice sounded calm and cultured, nothing like the short anguished cry he was sure he heard a few moments earlier.  Frank paused for a moment – was he wrong?

Recovering quickly, the teen asked, “Hello, may I speak to Pharaoh Plyth?”  He saw the question on his friend’s faces and he motioned them to be quiet.

“I’m sorry, he’s going to be tied up for a while.  Can I take a message and get him to return your call?” the voice asked, masking the grin that its owner was wearing….Yes, definitely tied up for a while.

“Um…” Frank decided to risk it.  “I believe he has a guest visiting him right now – Joe Hardy.  Can I speak to him?” 

The man paused.  Frank felt the knot tighten, something was wrong and he knew it….

“This is the Plyth Estate, there’s no Joe Hardy here—”

Frank cut in before the man could hang up; he was desperate.

“What about Remus Plyth?”  He felt sick even saying that name, would Joe be staying here under that alias?

This time the only answer was the click of the phone.

* * *

The man looked down at the unconscious boy at his feet. 

“I knew it,” he muttered, and cursing Joe, he grabbed him under the armpits and started to drag him down the hall.  He wasn’t worried about anyone trying to stop him…there was no one left.

Mrs. Corradi was sleeping it off in the kitchen pantry, while Mr. Winston was out cold in the office. 

He’d take care of Mr. Winston after he’d finished with Remus, but he honestly hoped that Mrs. Corradi would feel up to making him a little snack later….

And as for the floor maids? They had worked for the Plyths long enough to not question…or talk about anything they’d ever seen in the big house….