At one point Joe had gotten close enough to make out the first three numbers on the license plate, but the driver had put on a burst of speed before he could see the next three digits.

As the car ahead of him, made a sharp left turn at the last second, Joe cursed the driver. The person was blithely turning left, right or making complete u-turns in total disregard for the traffic around them. Joe smiled when he saw the back end of the car fishtail wildly and slam into a parked car. As it continued on, Joe noticed, it now had a broken right rear tail light. Just as he took the turn, Joe looked up at the street signs, making a mental note of the intersection hoping the fleeing driver might have left some kind of evidence when he hit the parked car.

Scanning the road, Joe saw a busy intersection up ahead. The light was red but the driver he was pursuing obviously had no intention of stopping. As they approached the stopped traffic at a high rate of speed, Joe sucked in his breath. He didn’t want to get into an accident pursuing the elusive suspect, but he didn’t want to lose them either. Prior to this evening, the thought that Frank might be the next victim was simply that – a thought. However, tonight everything had changed. Whoever this was had made their move on Frank and Joe was not about to sit back and let them get away if he could help it. Suddenly, this case was personal.

Joe breathed a sigh of relief as the light turned to green. The traffic ahead slowly began to move but apparently, it still wasn’t fast enough to satisfy the other driver as he swerved into the oncoming lanes of traffic to get around them. Horns blared and tires squealed as the other cars took drastic measures to avoid a major disaster. Joe gasped as he saw a silver SUV coming straight for him. As the harsh glare of the headlights completely blinded him, Joe slammed on the brakes, spun the wheel hard to the right and began to pray as he waited for the inevitable impact.

*****

Frank continued pacing his living room, growing more worried by the second. When Joe had taken off in pursuit of the dart thrower, Frank had stood in shock for a moment. By the time he had made the decision to follow Joe in his own car he realized it was too late. He’d never be able to find them now. He didn’t even know which way they had turned when they got to the end of the street.

Frustrated, he had picked up the files he dropped and gone back into the house, calling both his father and the police. Hearing a car pull up in the driveway, Frank looked out the window and saw his father hurrying towards the front door. Frank had it opened before Fenton even made it to the porch.

"Joe’s not back yet?" Fenton asked, concerned.

"No." Frank replied, aggravated. "What was he thinking taking off by himself?!"

"Apparently, he wasn’t." Fenton replied.

"It would have taken ten seconds – less, even – for him to wait for me to get in the car!" Frank stopped and looked at his father, thinking of the night they’d caught the jewel thieves. "I can’t believe I’m saying this but I hope Joe doesn’t catch him. Joe isn’t strong enough yet to hold his own in a fight."

"I know." Fenton replied quietly, looking out the window into the night. "The police are here."

Frank followed his father out the door and saw Detective Con Riley getting out of a patrol car. He approached the father and son, stopping on the porch next to them.

"What happened?" he asked simply.

Frank stepped aside so Con could see the two darts still sticking out of the door.

"No, I haven’t touched them." Frank said before Con could pose the question.

"Do you know where they came from?"

"Out there somewhere." Frank replied in disgust, waving his hand towards the street in front of his house.

When Con simply looked at him with raised eyebrows, Frank sighed.

"Sorry. I think the guy was sitting in a car across the street. There’s always one or two cars parked in front of the Anderson’s house so I honestly didn’t even notice it."

"Then what makes you think that’s where it came from?" Fenton asked, the investigator in him coming out immediately. "And are you sure it was a man?"

"I know they came from that general direction. I bent over to pick up a file I had dropped and that’s when the first dart hit. I dove behind the tree," He stopped and pointed to the little bush that may have saved his life. "When I reached for the door handle a second one hit the frame. And no, I’m not positive it was a man. Could just as easily have been a woman."

Con stopped him and took a moment to peer at both darts and crouch down behind the bush for a look at it. "Ok, go on." He said, standing up.

"All of a sudden I heard tires squealing and a car horn. I think it was Joe because two seconds later he pulled into the driveway. At the same time, I heard more tires squealing and a car taking off down the street. It didn’t turn around or anything, just took off, so it had to be parked right there in the street."

"So where’s Joe?" Con asked looking around, suddenly noticing the absence of the younger Hardy. "Don’t tell me." He said before Frank could respond. "He took off after the guy…alone."

Frank crossed his arms over his chest and grunted in reply.

"And you haven’t heard from him?" Con looked at Fenton.

"Not yet. But he hasn’t been gone that long, right, Frank?" Fenton replied, trying to keep as positive an outlook as possible.

"Ten, fifteen minutes maybe." Frank replied with a glance at his watch.

"Let me go call for an evidence collection team. I’ll ask dispatch to put out an announcement just to keep an eye out for Joe." He said, noting the worried looks passing between Frank and Fenton.

"Thank you." Fenton smiled.

Con returned to his car for a few moments, completed his tasks and walked back to the porch.

"Well, for what it’s worth, in the last few minutes there have been several reports called in about two cars in a high speed chase through downtown Bayport." He glanced down at the notes he had made. "A dark colored, late model sedan was being chased by a fairly new black Mustang convertible. No one has gotten a good look at the first driver, but the Mustang is reported to be driven by a young man with blonde hair." He looked up and arched an eyebrow. "Neither driver has been caught yet."

Fenton sighed at the description of Joe and his car, and wondered if his youngest son would ever learn how to control his impetuous nature. "I guess now, we wait."

Looking at Frank, Fenton realized that was the last thing he wanted to do, but had resigned himself to the fact that he had no choice. As the evidence collection team pulled up, Frank retreated into the house and threw himself into a chair, angrily.