While Fenton made his phone calls, Laura looked through the pictures Frank had handed her on his way out the door. Someone had been a shutterbug. Since Sophia was in most of them, she thought it might have been Mrs. Damirov. Frank thought of the old woman as a grandmother.  

All of the important moments were there: Frank’s first birthday, what looked like his first day of school, and various other events that only mothers would deem important. Now I can get that scrapbook put together, she thought happily.  

A young boy who could only be Stefan was in several of them, and the jealousy Laura saw in his young eyes made her shiver inside. If these pictures were any indication of Stefan’s true nature, it appeared Frank had every right to be afraid of his older brother.  

Fenton sighed heavily as he hung up the phone for the fifth time.  

“Any luck yet?” Laura asked.  

“No.” He ran a hand through his dark brown hair, letting his hand rest on the back of his neck. “I’ll head over to the embassy tomorrow and see if anyone there can help out.” Glancing over at Matt, he saw the young man was asleep again. He had awakened earlier just long enough for Fenton to ask him a few questions. The answers had left him more puzzled than ever.  

“Something about this whole thing just isn’t right,” he said slowly. “But I can’t put my finger on it.” His hand dropped back down to rest on the bed.  

Laura set the pictures aside and moved to the bed, kneeling behind her husband and massaging his shoulders. “Why don’t we get an early dinner? And you can let your brain rest.”  

Fenton smiled. “You really like talking to her don’t you?” he asked, referring to Dawn Anderson.  

“I do. And besides, they’re nervous. I trust Joe to look out for Frank.”  

“Alright. I am getting hungry.”  

Laura kissed his cheek and reached for the phone.  

***

Stefan shoved Frank into the backseat of a large black car, not letting go until Frank’s hands were cuffed behind his back. All thoughts of making an escape attempt disappeared as the cold metal bit into his skin, pinching in tightly. Frank could already feel his fingers going numb.  

“What did you do to Joe?” he demanded.  

“What do you think I did?” Stefan retorted as he lit a cigarette.  

“He’ll get loose. He always does. And when he finds me, he’ll probably kill you.”  

Stefan smiled. “No, he won’t. He’ll want to kill you. I don’t think they ever really wanted you in the first place. How could anyone want you?”  

Frank remained silent. Stefan’s abuse when they were children had always been the verbal kind, with the occasional hour or two locked in the hall closet when their mother was gone. But in studying Stefan, the brother he’d prayed he would never see again, Frank realized that the man would know have no qualms about taking it to the next level. Stefan had made no effort to protect him in the orphanage, letting a couple of the older boys have their way with him.  

The look in Stefan’s eyes, like that of a predator eyeing its prey, left no doubt in Frank’s mind that Stefan was now guilty of those very things he had allowed to be done to Frank.  

Looking in the rearview mirror, Frank saw Milov sitting in the driver’s seat. He allowed himself a small smile. You obviously didn’t think this all the way through, Stefan. Hurry up, Dad!  

“Making the connection I see?” Stefan commented. He leaned forward draping his left arm around Frank’s shoulders. “Don’t worry. I have no plans to sell you. I’ve waited too long to get you back.”  

Then Stefan’s hand was in Frank’s hair, shoving the younger man’s head down between his knees. Frank felt the neck of his shirt pulled back and the button dug painfully into his throat. The cigarette landed just to the right of his spine, in the tender skin where his collarbone met his cervical spine, before he was ready and his cry of pain made Stefan laugh.  

Frank closed his eyes and concentrated on keeping his breathing even as Stefan brushed the ashes out of the burn. Then he gritted his teeth to keep from crying out again as Stefan’s thumb pressed into the burn, twisting just a little to inflame the skin even more.  

“Welcome home, brother.”  

***  

Joe groaned. It sounded funny, so he tried to open his mouth. But it was taped shut. He forced his eyes open and saw he was in a shed. With a splitting headache no less. What happened?  

He went to move his hands and discovered they were bound tightly behind his back. He attempted to look down, and choked as the rough rope bit into the tender skin of his neck.  

Quickly going back to the previous position, he pressed his body against the post. Smooth move, Hardy, he chastised himself. Figure out what happened and stay still.  

He waited for the chloroform cobwebs to clear and as they did his heart dropped. Frank!  

***  

It was several long minutes before Stefan let Frank sit up again. He’d added two more burns to Frank’s shoulders and Frank was not paying any attention to where he was being taken. He was now too focused on breathing through the pain to notice that they had left the city and were headed west.  

After a ride of just under two hours, the car went through a large pair of iron gates. Frank’s eyes widened.  

“Lovely isn’t it?” Stefan said. “We won’t be here long though so don’t get used to it. Boris tells me your adoptive father is quite the detective. Him finding you too soon will never do.”  

The door opened and Frank slid out of the car with Stefan right behind him. Motioning to the man, Vladimir, Stefan whispered in his ear. “Take care of Boris.”  

Vladimir nodded.  

Frank was shoved forward and up the front steps of the mansion. He stopped short and looked behind him as a gun went off. Boris Milov was now dead.  

“Just taking care of some unfinished business, brother,” Stefan said with a smile. He took hold of Frank’s upper arm and pulled him into the house. Frank winced, knowing there would be bruises in the shape of Stefan’s hand. He was taken up the stairs and into a bedroom.  

The room was completely bare except for a bed and bathroom facilities. The windows were barred from the inside and there was no inside doorknob. Stefan pushed Frank against the wall and emptied his brother’s pockets, then removed the handcuffs and yanked Frank’s shirt off. He gasped as the material dragged over the fresh burns.  

It was then that Frank noticed the chain attached to the wall. With a sinking feeling, he realized there would be no getting out of this one.

 

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.