SMOKE AND MIRRORS

by

PiperMerlyn

Chapter 11

 

The Chapters

INTRO

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

Vanessa paced from the bed to the table and back again. The sparkly midnight blue dress still lay in a heap on the carpet, the rose still lay on the bed. She took a deep breath as she tried to think of a way out. But she was growing  exhausted. Her mouth was dry and her  stomach rumbled continously now. What might have been her snack was still scattered across the carpet.

Vanessa sighed. If she only knew how  to pick a lock--or that self defense technique to overpower someone twice your size, she could get out of this room, this house.

The lock clicked and the door swung open. Byron  stood there, clad in a black tuxedo. His eyes scanned her from the top of her blond head to her feet encased in lug-soled boots. "You're not dressed."

Vanessa took a deep breath. "I'm not wearing anything you give me just to please you."

Byron narrowed his eyes and took a step toward her, an air of menace surrounding him. "Vanessa--"

In a sudden move, Vanessa shoved him as hard as she could and ran for the door but Byron was too fast for her. He reached out and grabbed a handful of ash-blond hair as he fell, pulling Vanessa down on top of him.

They crashed into the table and a wooden leg snapped. Vanessa landed hard on top of Byron but before she could get up, his free hand closed over her throat, not tight enough to hurt but she could feel the heaviness of his hand and it stopped her in mid-move.

"You are a fool," muttered Byron harshly. "I am trying to protect you."

"Let me go," whispered Vanessa.

Byron's grip on her hair tightened until she winced. Then abruptly he let go of her completely and pushed her off of him. Vanessa landed in a heap and managed to sit up.

Byron gazed down at her, a blank look on his face. "I'll have Damien tend to you," he said in a neutral tone.

Vanessa went cold, remembering the last time he'd said that, only then he'd been refering to Damien getting rid of Joe. "What do you mean?"

"You do not wish for my help. I do not wish for you to be at my--" He broke off as the doorbell rang. Byron glanced at the bedroom door and then at Vanessa. "Do not do anything stupid or Damien will kill you."

Vanessa pushed herself to her feet. "Byron--"

"You will not attempt an escape. You will stay here."

Vanessa took a deep breath. "And if I do attempt to escape?"

Byron walked to the door and glanced over his shoulder at her. "I will not let you go." Then he was gone and she heard the click of the lock.

                                                  ***

"You act starstruck, I'll be calm and observant," said MacKensey as they walked up to the front door. Mack had torn off the casing of the outside control to the gate and crossed a few wires to get the gate to open slightly.

"Something's wrong with this picture," mused Casi. She cocked her head. "Oh, I know--" She swatted her husband's arm. "I'm the one who's calm and observant. You have to be starstruck."

"I would say that's a matter of opinion." Mack took a step away from her. "No more swatting. Do I look like Jeff Goldblum?"

Casi started to say something when the front door swung open. She gave the dark-haired young man a huge smile. "Oh my God," she said. "You're Byron James."

Mack found it hard not to smile at her exaggerated tone. He cleared his throat. "Casi, dear, don't go gaga over the poor guy."

The man stood there, studying them. "Do I know you?" he asked, tonelessly.

"Oh, no, no, no. I just love your magazine." Casi nudged Mack hard. "How could you? I forgot to get a copy of Current. I could've gotten his autograph."

Mack touched Casi's arm, feeling a bit unsettled for some reason. "Casi--"

"I just love the features your magazine--" Casi's voice trailed off as he closed the door in her face. Startled, Casi looked over at her husband. "How rude."

"Well, you were a little over the top." Mack steered her toward the gate. "Come on."

"We can't leave. We didn't distract him long enough. And what do you mean, I was over the top?"

"Casi."

She gave him an innocent smile. "Yes, dear?"

"Something's wrong. Number one, he should have been asking us how we waltzed up to his door." Mack motioned her through the narrow opening of the gate. "Two, he shouldn't have answered the door. Forsythe should have."

"But Joe said he'd punched him out. Maybe--"

"Or Forsythe's busy dealing with the brothers," countered Mack, still feeling odd to hear his wife call someone else by his name. "We need to get to the police."

"We don't have any proof," began  Casi. Suddenly, she frowned as she realized what Mack meant. "But is there a statute of limitations on kidnapping?"

"Let's not forget attempted murder." Mack nodded to the car. "Get in. We don't have much time."

Casi spared a glance for the estate. "I feel like we're abandoning them. Can't we just call?"

Mack got into the car and gripped the steering wheel. "I don't think a call will hold much weight."

Casi stared at the huge mansion. "Then I'll go."

Mack gave her a shocked look. "Casi--"

She shook her head. "Look, I could suggest you go and we'll waste precious time while you try to convince me to go instead. We don't have that time to waste." She got out of the car and walked over to the driver's side. "Keys."

Mack slowly got out of the car and handed the keys to her. He held the door for her as she got in and slammed it shut, his hands on the rim of the open window. "Go to Fenton. Tell him the situation, he'll get the police motivated."

"Will do." Casi started the car and looked up at him. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

Mack leaned forward to kiss her. "I keep underestimating you, wife," he managed to say and then stepped back to watch her drive off. Mack turned and slipped back through the gate. He didn't have his gun, he had no idea what the mansion's floorplan was. Mack sighed. How did he get himself into these things?

                                                            ***

 

How do I get myself into these things? thought Frank, staring into the business end of a gun. They were in what looked like a storage or utility room. The faint hum of an upright freezer was the only sound in the room.

Joe stood next to him, clenching and unclenching his hands. "Byron James is crazy and you're just as nuts to do this."

Frank groaned inwardly. "Joe--"

"He wants to keep someone safe. An innocent who knows nothing of the  danger you and your brother constantly get into," said Forsythe.

"Then he's not very well informed," said Frank. "Vanessa's helped us in several cases. Her knowledge of archery saved the day."

Forsythe snorted. "I sincerely doubt it."

Joe took a deep breath. "She's not some damsel in distress. She can take care of herself."

"And yet you are here to rescue her--" Forsythe stopped speaking as a crash sounded above them.

"We're just the back up," said Frank.

Several thumps made Forsythe glance up at the ceiling. Frank and Joe didn't waste a moment. They separated and jumped Forsythe from both sides, knocking him against the wall. Forsythe went limp and his eyes rolled back in his head as the distinct chime of a doorbell echoed through the first floor.

Frank grunted and found a loose extension cord. He tied Forsythe's hands behind his back while Joe used the man's necktie to bind his ankles. "What took them so long?"

"Better late than never," muttered Joe. "Let's get upstairs."

Frank nodded and they left the utility room. After getting their bearings, they found a back staircase off the kitchen. As they raced up the stairs, Frank frowned. "Joe, don't do anything stupid."

"Would killing Byron fall under that category?"

Frank sighed as they reached the second floor. "That would be a yes."

Joe spared his brother a look. "Just checking."

Frank shook his head as they scanned the row of closed doors up and down the corridor. "You go down that way. I'll take this side."

Joe nodded and started tapping on closed doors. Frank headed in the opposite direction but when he heard Joe gasp, he hurried to his brother. "What?"

"Vanessa," Joe said with a shudder.

"Joe?" Vanessa's voice sounded tired and teary. The doorknob rattled. "The door--it's locked."

Joe and Frank shared a look and then nodded. "Vanessa, move away from the door," said Joe as he and Frank took a step back. Together, they kicked the door hard. It rattled in its frame but didn't budge. The brothers slammed their full weight against the door and with a loud groaning and the crack of breaking wood, the door popped open.

Vanessa rushed out of the room and into Joe's arms. "Oh thank God, you found me."

Joe wrapped his arms around her. "It wasn't so hard to figure out where you were once Melanie came clean."

Vanessa pulled back enough to study his face. "Melanie?"

Joe swallowed hard. "It wasn't  Iola. God, Van, I'm so sorry."

Vanessa shook her head. "Don't--"

"Step away from her," said a new voice.

Joe, Frank and Vanessa turned to see Byron standing there, one hand holding a gun. "Step away now."

"No," said Joe. "You have no right--"

"No right? What right do you have to put anyone in danger?" Byron clicked the safety off and tightened his finger on the trigger.

"Stop!" said Frank. "Put the gun down, Byron."

Byron shifted his gaze to Frank. "You dare order me?"

Joe pushed Vanessa behind him and glared at Byron. "That's enough, Byron."

Byron shook his head. "Don't talk to me that way."

"Put the gun down, Byron," said Frank, a thread of steel in his voice. "Now."

"Shut up," said Byron through clenched teeth. "Just shut up."

"We're leaving, Byron," said Frank. "And Vanessa is leaving with us."

"I'm trying to protect her--from both of you."

Frank heard a whispered conversation behind him but couldn't make out the words. Suddenly, Vanessa walked past him and he reached out to  stop her. "Vanessa--"

"No!" There was a sudden blur of movement from the stairs. "Get down!" Someone slammed into Byron---and the gun went off...

 

 

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Disclaimer

The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The authors 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.