"Well," C. J. began, "It says that he was born in Sport and that his parents are Jim and Laura Ice, the same as Justin’s parents. His birthday is only about four years before Justin’s and he does look remarkably like him."

"It might be a huge coincidence," Joe spoke up, "Maybe there is another family out there with those names, even if Ice is an interesting last name. It might be nothing."

C. J. and the rest looked at Vicki, who had remained quiet during their conversation. She glanced up and when seeing that they were waiting, didn’t say a word.

"What do you make of it," C. J. asked Vicki when they received no answer, "I know you have an idea, otherwise you wouldn’t be so quiet."

"I don’t understand," Vicki said, "It might be a coincidence about the name, but it is pretty rare. Also, what happened to Michael if he was Justin’s brother. He’s only four years older, Justin would have mentioned him."

"Unless he didn’t want to talk about him," C. J. cut in, "Maybe something happened and Justin never knew him, or he was ashamed to know him."

"Neither make sense," Frank said, "Why would your boyfriend forget to mention him if they were brothers?"

"I’m going to find out," C. J. said, "If Justin knows the truth, I’ll get him to tell me."

The teens quickly left the police station afterwards and drove over to Justin’s house. A teenager of eighteen answered the door. He was a good six foot three with spiky black hair and green eyes.

"Justin," C. J. asked him, "Can we come inside? There’s something important that we need to talk to you about." Justin nodded and opened the door open for the four. He seemed a little confused at all the guests.

"What’s up," he asked his girlfriend the minute they sat in the living room, "And who are these two?"

"They are friends of mine," C. J. said, "Meet Frank and Joe Hardy. They are the detectives I told you about remember? There’s something strange going on."

"And you need my help," Justin asked, "Will you please tell me what’s going on? I need to know."

"Do you know someone named Michael," Vicki asked, due to C. J’s hesitation, "He’s involved in what looks to be an attempted robbery that happened this afternoon." Justin tried not to look surprised, but it didn’t help.

"Why do you want to know," he asked, "I mean, why would this guy be involved in a robbery?"

"You know something," C. J. said, "Will you just tell me what it is? Do you know Michael?"

"No," Justin replied, "At least not in person. You see, last night, I overheard my parents talking and they mentioned someone named Michael. I thought it was strange, but never asked them about it."

"Asked us what," Jim Ice’s voice came from the front door. Jim, who was around forty with dark brown hair and green eyes, stood in the opening to the living room.

The room went silent as Justin’s parents entered the room. Everyone suddenly became uncomfortable at what they realized that they had to ask. Justin finally spoke up.

"I overheard you and mom talking last night," he began, "You mentioned someone named Michael. Who is he? It might be important."

Both his parents went silent this time, looking at each other with doubt. They had wanted to avoid the conversation for a long time, but they supposed Justin deserved to know the truth.

"Michael was your brother," Laura Ice said hesitantly. She was a pretty woman with jet-black hair and blue eyes, "You never met him, because he disappeared at a young age. We didn’t know what happened." The teenagers were shocked. How could something so tragic been kept a secret for so long?

"My brother," Justin said, barely whispering the words, "but how…"

"Excuse me," Vicki said, "but how does someone just disappear? There must be some explanation for it. Do you remember what happened the day when he turned up missing?"

"Very well," Mr. Ice said, "He was around six at the time when it happened. Justin was about two. Laura went to the school to pick Michael up that day."

"He never showed up though," Laura continued, "The teacher said he was never in class in the first place, but that was impossible. I remember walking him to his classroom that day."

"That’s right," Jim went on, "Michael hated going to class by himself. He didn’t really get along with some kids, and they liked to pick on him so we would always walk him to his room and make sure everything was okay."