Frank pulled up to the deserted train station and cut the engine. Getting out of the car, he walked behind it and came to a stop next to his brother. They gazed up at the rapidly deteriorating, red brick building. "I hope we have better luck here than we did at the bank. I don’t want this guy anywhere near Bayport."

Nodding in agreement, Joe followed his brother to the platform at the back of the station.

"You start over there." Frank pointed to the opposite end of the platform. "I’ll start here and we’ll meet in the middle."

Thirty minutes later, Frank was standing back in the middle of the platform with nothing to show for his search but a look of disgust. Judging by the look on his brothers face, Joe’s luck hadn’t been much better.

"Anything?" Frank asked hopefully.

"Nothing." Joe replied with a frown. "Unless you want to count this."

He held up a torn piece of paper, gingerly holding on to the very edges of it.

"What is it?"

"Beats me. But it’s the only thing that hasn’t been here forever. I wouldn’t have noticed it at all except the wind blew it out of the doorframe behind that bench."

Taking a small, plastic bag from his pocket, Frank held it open. Joe dropped the torn paper into the bag and watched as Frank examined it.

"Looks like some kind of ID card." The front of the card was off white with large red letters on it. "M-E-N…what’s that next letter?"

"An ‘S’ maybe? Hard to tell."

Turning it over, Frank looked at the back of the card trying to make out the small letters. "Clay something." He sighed in frustration. "I guess it’s better than nothing. Lets head over to the police station. It’s almost noon."

"I hope this is a lunch meeting." Joe said as they walked back to the car. "I’m starving."

Frank smacked him lightly on the back of the head. "You’re always starving! I don’t know how Mom and Dad didn’t go bankrupt having to feed you all those years."

"Hey, I’m a growing boy!"

"Well, get in the car, Growing Boy, or we’re going to be late."

The brothers soon arrived at Police Headquarters in Kirkland. They were directed to a large conference room where officers and detectives from four different cities were milling about. Scanning the room for his father, Franks eyes stopped on a large table in the corner. Chuckling, he shook his head and looked at his brother.

"They obviously knew you were coming." He grasped Joe’s shoulder and spun him around, giving Joe a full view of the endless trays of food spread out on the table. Giving Joe a little shove towards the table, he said "Get something to eat. I’ll find Dad." He walked away, still laughing to himself.

Walking through the room Frank finally spotted his father talking with Chief Collig and two other men. He approached the group and was introduced to the two men.

"Frank, this is Ben Grayson, Chief Detective here in Kirkland. And this is Jason Brock, head of the Special Victims Unit in Southport." Frank shook hands with both men as Fenton continued. "This is my older son, Frank." Looking around he asked, "Where’s Joe?"

"Where do you think." Frank replied with amusement.

Chuckling, his father asked, "Did you find anything?"

"We don’t know." Frank pulled the plastic bag from his pocket and handed it over to his father. "Joe found it at the train station. Other than being torn, it’s in pretty good shape. Couldn’t have been there for more than a few days. It was stuck in the doorway behind the bench on the platform."

"That’s exactly where the rape occurred." Ben Grayson said. "Behind the bench. Victim said when the guy stood up his wallet fell out of his pocket. Just about everything fell out of it. He wasn’t happy about it. Had to stop and pick everything up." He took the bag Fenton held out to him and looked it over. "Maybe he missed something. You and Joe can check this out and let us know if you turn up anything?" He asked Frank.

"Yes, sir." Frank replied.

"I better get this meeting started." Chief Grayson said, handing the plastic bag to Jason Brock who examined it and returned it to Frank.

Chief Grayson walked to the front of the room and began the meeting by introducing the various officers and investigators involved. He briefly recapped the events with all the relevant details, mentioning the torn card Joe had found at the train station, and then motioned for Fenton to join him.

"I think you all know Fenton Hardy," he smiled at Fenton. "I’ll let you take it from here."

Fenton Hardy addressed the group, referring to a map of the area that had been tacked up on the wall. It had colored pins sticking out of it, each indicating the different locations of the six rapes.

"At first glance, the attacks seem pretty random. But if you look at each city, individually, you can see how the pattern starts to emerge. The first attack was in Angel Beach; just one victim." He moved his finger a little further up the map. "Next he moved on to Southport, which is exactly 25 miles north of Angel Beach. Two victims this time. Now he moves on to Kirkland, which is exactly 25 miles north of Southport. Three victims here; the last one on Saturday night. Assuming he continues in this manner, his next assault…" he moved his finger a little further on the map before continuing. "…will be in Bayport, the city 25 miles north of Kirkland. This time he will be looking for four victims."

Frank and Joe exchanged worried glances, now fully understanding why their father had said the next victim would be in Bayport. As Fenton was finishing up, the door opened and a petite woman dressed in an understated but figure hugging business suit, slipped in. He smiled and motioned for her to join him at the front of the room.

"I’d like to introduce Special Agent Heather Wells. She’s a profiler on loan to us from the FBI. She spent the weekend going over everything we have. Hopefully, she’ll be able to give us a new perspective. Heather?" he said turning the meeting over to her.

Joe looked at the woman in amazement. She had long blonde hair, sparkling green eyes and an easy smile that revealed a perfect pair of dimples. Without taking his eyes off her, Joe leaned over to his brother and whispered, "If all the agents look like that, I think I’ll be joining the FBI."

"I’m sure Vanessa will be happy to hear it." Frank teased, earning him a dirty look from his brother.

"As Mr. Hardy said, I’ve read all the information you’ve collected so far," Heather began, "And I don’t envy you. As you have found out, he is a meticulous planner. He is very methodical in his attacks and does not make mistakes. He has found what works and does not take any unnecessary chances. You are dealing with an extremely intelligent individual; someone with a very high I.Q. – much higher than normal."

She continued speaking but Frank was no longer listening; for some reason he had focused in on what she had just said. ‘A very high I.Q. Much higher than normal.’ Frowning in concentration, he tried to figure out why those words were nagging at him. Joe’s harsh whisper broke into his thoughts. "Come on, Frank – give! I can practically see the wheels spinning in that brain of yours."

"I don’t know…something about the high I.Q." He concentrated a moment longer, then shook his head. "Maybe it’ll come to me later." He said returning his full attention to the pretty young woman.

"Unfortunately, with this particular type of profile, they rarely, if ever make a mistake. They are usually caught when you are able to determine their pattern. The drawback of their extremely high I.Q. – for them - is that it gives them a false sense of security. It never occurs to them that an average police officer could break their pattern." She smiled at the quiet laughter from several people in the audience. "From what I can see, your best bet is going to figure out what his patterns are and use them against him. You are one step closer to catching him now that you know where he will strike next. I doubt he will make any mistakes, though, so your next step will have to be breaking the pattern of when he attacks. It isn’t random; he has planned everything else. He will have planned that too." She concluded.

"Thank you, Heather," Chief Grayson said moving to stand next to her. "You’ve been very helpful." He turned back to the group and concluded the meeting.

"Anything else?" he asked and waited a moment. "Ok. Then as we agreed when we met last week, everyone will continue to work on the cases within their own jurisdiction. All new information will be sent here where it will be added to the report. Everyone will receive a daily update. We’ll meet again on Wednesday at noon, unless something comes up before then. Thank you all for coming and keep up the good work."

As the meeting broke up, Frank and Joe rejoined their father.

"So unless this guy is caught soon, his next attack will be in Bayport?" Joe asked his father.

"I’m afraid so, son."

Joe looked from his father to his brother, worry clearly evident on his face. ‘Mom; Vanessa; Callie; Aunt Gertrude; Andrea…they’re all potential victims!’ Looking at his brother again, he knew Frank was thinking the same thing. Silently, he turned and left the room. Frank exchanged a quick glance with his father then followed Joe out the door. Fenton Hardy’s thoughts mirrored those of his sons’. He suddenly felt a chill, and said a silent prayer for a speedy end to the investigation as he made his way out of the building.