"Honey, why don’t you use one of the blankets?" Fenton urged her. "You’re freezing."

"Joe needs them more than I do. I’m fine." Laura insisted.

Glancing over at Joe, who was sleeping on the floor, Fenton noticed Joe had pushed the blanket that had been covering him onto the floor. Frowning, he realized Joe had done the same thing several times during the night despite the chill in the air.

Noting the look on her husband’s face, Laura followed his gaze. Seeing the blanket in a heap on the floor, she crawled the few feet separating her from Joe. Examining him more closely, she thought he looked a little flushed. Gently placing a hand on his forehead so as not to wake him, a frown creased her brow.

"He’s hot." She said worriedly, turning to look at Fenton. "I think he’s developed a fever."

As she picked up the blanket and placed it over Joe once again, he began to stir. Feeling the heavy fabric draped over him, Joe pushed it off, grimacing.

"Too hot." He mumbled, opening his eyes just a little. "Water?" He requested.

Locating the small plastic bottle, Fenton unscrewed the cap, helping Joe sit up a little more and then held it to his lips. "A little at a time." Fenton warned.

Joe nodded, grimacing at the marching band that seemed to have taken up residence in his head overnight. Taking a small sip, Joe found his stomach was a little more agreeable this morning and helped himself to several more.

"Why’s it so hot in here?" He finally asked, eyeing his parents through slitted eyes.

"It’s not." Laura told him, reaching for one of his hands. "Let me check your wrists. We couldn’t get all the dirt out. Some of it was embedded in there pretty good. I’m afraid you might be getting an infection."

"I’m fine." Joe replied, gently pulling his hand back.

"Let me take your temperature, just in case." Laura requested searching through the First Aid kit for the thermometer she had seen when she first opened it.

"No, I’m fine. Really." Joe protested as Laura came at him with the offending object, which he eyed disdainfully.

"Humor me." She told him, holding the thermometer out.

With a resigned sigh, Joe opened his mouth allowing his mother to place the thermometer under his tongue. Seeing his father watching him with a smile, Joe rolled his eyes.

"I saw that." Laura warned him, not taking her eyes off her watch. A minute later, she reached forward and retrieved the thermometer. Checking the reading, she frowned again. "100.6. You do have a slight fever." She told Joe.

"No big deal." Joe brushed it off. He then looked at his father sheepishly. "Uh, did we come with any kind of escape plan last night? I can’t really remember. My brain isn’t working too well this morning."

"Your brain is working just fine." Fenton chuckled. "You fell asleep before we had a chance to talk about it."

"Oh. Sorry." Joe shrugged.

Just as Fenton was about to voice his suggestion, the door to the basement opened and Jarrell walked in followed by three of his men, two of them each carrying a tray.

"Good morning. I trust you slept well." Jarrell greeted the family cheerfully, ignoring the glare Laura threw at him. At his signal, the first man pulled out a gun, aiming it at Joe. "If you’d be kind enough to stay right where you are, my men will open the door and leave your breakfast."

At Jarrell’s signal, one of the men unlocked the cell door and opened it. The two men carrying the trays stepped in and placed the trays on the floor just inside the door. Exiting the cell, the door was locked once again and the four men left without another word.

Fenton walked to the front of the cell and picked up the trays, bringing them back to Joe and Laura. Lifting the cloth napkins covering the trays, Laura saw three bowls of cereal, three plastic spoons, three plastic cups with juice and three small bottles of water. She took a spoon and one of the bowls and then sat down next to Joe.

"Here, you need to eat." She said dipping the spoon into the cereal.

"I’m not hungry." Joe replied tiredly. "But I’ll take some juice. And water."

Laura looked at her husband concerned. Joe not hungry? Fenton shrugged in response, picking up a cup of juice and a bottle of water and handing them to Laura. Returning his gaze to the trays in front of him, Fenton sighed. Jarrell had been smart enough to make sure there was nothing on either tray they could use as a weapon, including the trays themselves, which were cardboard. Picking up a bowl of cereal and a cup of juice, Fenton leaned against the wall next to Joe and began to eat.

"So any ideas?" Joe asked his father as he took a small drink of juice.

"Mmm-hmm." Fenton mumbled swallowing a mouthful of cereal. "Think you can look deathly ill?" He asked with a grin.

"I think I can handle that." Joe laughed, quickly regretting it as his head protested and his ribs reminded him they were not in the best of shape. "Owww…."

"When they bring us food, there are usually at least three other men with Jarrell." Fenton began. "But when they’ve checked on us for the final time at night, there’s only two guards. We’ll have to wait until tonight, but when they come in for that final check, I want you to lay still, look sick. Your Mom will make a big scene about you needing a doctor. Big enough to make them come into the cell to check on you." Fenton said looking at Laura who nodded.

"Then we overpower them." Joe finished for him.

"I think you’ll need to leave that part to me." Fenton warned, noting Joe didn’t seem to be in any condition to overpower a fly at the moment.

"I can do my part." Joe said defensively.

"We’ll see." Fenton smiled. "If you’re up to it maybe you can use that deadly right hook."

"I’ll be up to it. Don’t worry." Joe replied, gingerly trying to squeeze his hand into the front pocket of his jeans without having to move.

"Looking for this?" Fenton grinned holding up the knife Laura had retrieved from Joe’s pocket the day before.

"How’d you get that?" Joe asked, confused.

"I haven’t lived with three detectives all this time and not learned a thing or two about being sneaky." Laura said smugly.

Smiling at his mother, Joe took another drink of juice and closed his eyes, wondering how Vanessa was holding up and hoping she wasn’t too worried about him.

*****

Vanessa awoke with a start in the unfamiliar room. Looking around, slightly disoriented, the events of the night before slowly came back to her. Sitting up she pulled the covers up to her chin, holding them tightly.

"Joe," She whispered her eyes beginning to tear. "Please be all right."

A soft knock sounded at the door. "Van?" Callie’s muffled voice called her name.

"Come in."

Opening the door, Callie came in and sat down on the edge of the bed. "How are you doing?" she asked, concern in her deep brown eyes.

"Fine." Vanessa answered. She’d been so tired upon going to bed, despite how angry she was, Vanessa realized she’d fallen asleep almost immediately and hadn’t awakened once during the night, even though she was alone in an unfamiliar house. ‘I guess that’s progress.’ She thought, still wishing Joe had been there with her.

"Listen, I’m really sorry about last night." Callie said contritely. "I honestly didn’t know about Joe until right before we left, but I guess I still should have told you."

"That’s okay." Vanessa waved off the apology. "I can understand why you did it even if I didn’t like it."

"Thanks. You know, Sam and I talked a little bit last night. You know Frank will find Joe and Mr. and Mrs. Hardy, right?" Callie said encouragingly. "And when he does, they’re going to come straight here. So, this is really the best place for you to be. You’ll be seeing Joe before you know it."

Vanessa nodded and smiled sadly. "I just hope he’s not hurt too badly."

"Are you kidding? Joe is like a cat with nine lives. Plus you know Laura is probably hovering over him driving him crazy. I’m sure he’ll be fine." Callie responded. "Why don’t you get dressed and come downstairs. Sam has all ready started making breakfast."

"A guy who cooks?" Vanessa asked, surprised, climbing out of bed and heading for the bathroom.

"Yeah, can you believe it." Callie laughed as she walked to the door. "See you in a few." She said pulling the door shut behind her.

*****

Frank turned into the long driveway that wound it’s way through the Morton farm. Coming to a stop in front of the farmhouse, he was relieved to see the cars of all his friends all ready there. Gathering up the papers on the seat next to him, Frank got out of the car and climbed the porch steps. Knocking once, he pulled the screen door open and stepped inside.

"Chet?" He called out.

"In here." Came a reply from the living room.

Rounding the corner into the room, Frank saw his and Joe’s four closest friends sprawled on the couch, chairs and floor. Chet Morton, a happy go lucky guy with light brown hair and green eyes who’s favorite hobby was eating; Biff Hooper, Joe’s wise-cracking best friend, who stood several inches taller than Frank’s own 6’1" frame, had blonde hair, blue eyes and a muscular build even Joe envied; Tony Prito, was shorter than the rest, with an olive complexion, dark hair and matching dark brown eyes; and quiet Phil Cohen, the group’s resident computer genius whom Frank was closest to, who had sandy brown hair, hazel eyes and wore wire rimmed glasses.

"Hey, guys, thanks for coming." Frank said hurriedly, sitting down and laying out the papers on the coffee table in front of him.

"You know you can count on us." Tony said.

"Yes…I do." Frank smiled looking up for a moment and making eye contact with each of his friends, before turning back to the papers. "Okay, Chet explained what’s going on?"

"Yeah. Do you have any idea how bad Joe was hurt?" Biff asked, concerned about his friend.

"Unfortunately, no. But they hit him with a bat. God knows what else they used." Frank replied gravely. Shaking off the anxiety that had suddenly sprung up, Frank passed out the maps he’d made a few hours earlier. "We’re going back to Hunter’s Crossing. That’s where they ambushed Joe. I’m sure they’re hiding out somewhere in that area. We can follow the ATV tracks and see where they lead. If we don’t get lucky with those, we’ll split up and each cover a section of the woods." Frank stopped and looked at his friends seriously.

"Jarrell plays for keeps. He wants me to lie on the witness stand. He said if I don’t he’s going to kill Joe and force my parents to watch."

"Uh, uh. No way!" Biff said hotly. "Don’t worry, Frank. We’ll find them."

"That’s what I’m counting on." Frank replied. "But we only have today and tomorrow and I’m not very familiar with this area. I have no idea how long it’s going to take us to search it."

"Then we better get started." Phil said, standing up clutching a map in his hands, as the others followed suit.