HDA - Living in Darkness Trilogy - Pt 2 - The Search

The scream lasted only a few seconds, then choked off almost immediately as Fenton rushed into the room behind Deanna. A girl, or rather a young woman, sat on a bench seat by a window overlooking the back yard, her eyes wide with fear as she stared at the two people with guns. She had her hands up at her sides as she trembled slightly.

“Get up slowly,” Deanna said. “And turn around, hands on the window.”

The girl did as she was told and Audrey went forward to frisk her, checking for any weapons before she nodded and stepped back.

“She’s clean,” Audrey said.

“Good,” Deanna said. “Now, who are you? And why are you here?”

The girl stammered. “I’m L-Lindsey. L-Lindsey Parrish. This is my boyfriend’s house.”

“Your boyfriend?” Deanna raised an eyebrow. “And he would be…?”

“Andrew. Andrew Mathews,” Lindsey said. “Or…or he was my boyfriend, once. My fiancé too. He…he left me. He threw me away for…a boy! He threw me away for a boy…”

She sighed and looked away again, tears tracking down her cheeks.

“I know it’s stupid to want a boy who doesn’t want me,” she said. “And I should have just taken no for an answer, but…I wanted to talk to him one more time. I was hoping if I waited here that he would show up and we could talk, that’s all. I wasn’t going to take anything, I swear!”

Fenton had to agree with her first sentence. It was pretty stupid to want a boy who didn’t want her. She was a pretty girl and, obviously, somewhat intelligent if she could at least recognize her own stupidity. Fenton suspected she could get another boyfriend again with no problem at all. She just had to go look for one – or accept an invitation.

“How did you get into the house?” Deanna asked curiously.

“I know where the key is kept,” Lindsay said. “And I know the code to the security alarm. I…I found out while I was still dating Andrew. He never…you know, he never actually told me where they were or what the code was, but the one time he let me come here I saw. His code is his birthday and the key…I watched him get it.”

“So he has been here?” Fenton asked. “How long ago?”

“He just finished decorating it about three months ago,” Lindsey said. “It took months and months to do it. I thought this was where we were going to live, even though he never asked me what I wanted in the house and he never let me see it except once. But when I was here that one time…I saw the closets.”

She frowned and Fenton nodded. He’d seen the closets. He didn’t like what they meant.

“I really am sorry,” Lindsey said. “I’m sorry that he…that he has that boy. And I’m sorry I wasn’t able to stop him. I didn’t know…I didn’t know until the other day that the boy didn’t want to come with him. I thought it was something they both planned together. Andrew kept talking about Joe as if they were a couple. He would tell me things that Joe said, as if he had long conversations with him all the time.”

Fenton shook his head, frowning again. Andrew really was more crazy than anyone thought. He partly blamed himself, for not keeping closer tabs on the boy after Derak went to jail. He had been too busy battling his demons and keeping Joe sane, to worry about Andrew or Cathy. He just assumed Cathy would get Andrew the help he needed to get over his father’s abuse.

“All right, Lindsey,” Deanna said to the girl. “You can go ahead and go. Don’t come back here, though, without permission. You don’t want to see Andrew right now. Do you understand that?”

Lindsey nodded. “I understand. I’m…I’m going to go.”

She fled toward the door and was gone in an instant.

“All right,” Deanna said as she put her gun back into her holster. “Show me where those secret hallways and rooms were. Bring a flashlight or two.”

“I have a penlight in my pocket,” Fenton said as he pulled it out.

“Good,” Deanna said. She pulled a small flashlight off her belt. “This one should work. We can turn on the lights when we get down there but we’ll see. Let’s go, troops.”

“I think we should let Frank and Samantha come in from the car,” Fenton said. “When I get you to the hidden staircase I’m going to go out and get them. If we do find Joe in here…”

Fenton shrugged. He wanted to make sure Joe had as much support here as possible. Whatever else happened, Joe would have people he knew, loved and trusted around him.

“Okay,” Deanna smiled at him, her face lighting up in warmth. He returned the smile and led the way down the hallway toward the bedroom where the hidden passageway began. He pushed aside a large, floor-length mirror and pulled the wall out, revealing the passageway behind it.

“Let’s just start our adventure here,” Deanna turned on her flashlight. For such a small thing it was very powerful, and she began to run it carefully along the lengths of each wall, searching for…what? Fenton wasn’t sure.

“What should we be looking for?” Audrey asked her partner. “I never did learn how to read minds, you know.”

“Oh, well, lines, regular or irregular, that run from floor to ceiling,” Deanna said.

“Ah.” Audrey took her own flashlight off her belt and followed suit, carefully inspecting each inch of the wall as they went toward the stairs.

Finally they were off down the stairs and Deanna had them repeat the same maneuver. No square inch was unturned in their search and by the time they got to the small room at the bottom, Fenton felt musty, dusty and cranky.

“I’m going to go out and get Frank and Sam,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

He pushed the door outward and walked out onto the lawn. Fenton went around to the car parked at the front of the house and opened the SUV door.

“Hello, troops,” he said. “You can come into the house now. We’re on the prowl in the hidden rooms again so be prepared for boring and dusty work.”

Frank laughed as he slid, very carefully, out of the car. Fenton supported him until Samantha was out and let her help him into the house. He went back inside to the small room where Audrey and Deanna were performing their previous actions from the room above on this space.

“Tedious,” Audrey commented as Fenton pulled his flashlight out again. “Very tedious.”

“Aw, come on,” Deanna laughed. “This isn’t your idea of a really good time?”

“NO,” Audrey said calmly. “Not even close.”

“No sense of adventure,” Deanna commented. She stepped down onto the first step going down and shone her light downward. “Wow, that is one long, steep, narrow staircase, Fenton.”

“Tell me about it,” Fenton said. “I’ve already been down there once.”

“I wonder how he managed to excavate this,” Deanna speculated curiously. “It had to have taken more than a few months.”

“I have no idea,” Fenton shrugged as he followed Deanna onto the stairs. He stayed two steps behind her, checking the wall opposite her wall.

“This is going to take forever!” Deanna sighed as she pushed her hair out of her face. She stopped for a moment and pulled everything that escaped back into a ponytail again and went back to work. “And dirty. He obviously didn’t care if it was clean. Why not make an attempt to make it nice if you’re going to have a hidden room? Nothing says it has to be musty…”

Fenton didn’t answer but he smiled.

About halfway down he gave out a shout.

“Wait a minute! I have something!”

Deanna turned immediately to see what Fenton pointed out. They were on a very small landing between flights of stairs and she saw the jagged, uneven, floor-to-ceiling line in the wall. There was another about two feet away and Deanna gave a wide grin.

“Holy Moses!” she exclaimed. “You found it!”

Deanna pushed on the wall but it didn’t give, at the moment. She frowned as she looked at it.

“I’m not playing games with this thing,” Fenton muttered. “Stand back. Go up a few steps.”

Fenton waited until Deanna was a few steps away, then he stood back as far against the wall behind him as he could and kicked.

Hard.

The whole wall shuddered and he heard wood groan. A large crack appeared in the wood opposite where he stood.

Fenton lashed out with his foot again and kicked as hard as he could.

The crack got wider. He would be able to see through to the other side if it wasn’t dark.

“You know,” Deanna commented. “I think there’s an axe in my truck.”

“Why would you have an axe in your truck?” Fenton wanted to know.

“Standard issue rescue kit,” Deanna shrugged. “Certain police cars have them too, you know. And so do certain F.B.I. agents.”

“It’s much more fun this way,” Fenton grunted. “If I take out my aggressions on this wall, I might not kill my nephew when we find him.”

He kicked again and again until finally, the door splintered into several large pieces and flew backward from the blow. Fenton was able to get the rest of the door opened and out of the way, and he shone his flashlight into the new space.

Another eight by eight room. Small.

With a half staircase sitting next to the wall. A half staircase that looked it should go somewhere but didn’t.

“Samantha!” he called outside. “Can you come down here?”

His son’s girlfriend appeared, with Frank, a few minutes later. Frank leaned against one of the walls and Fenton motioned to the staircase.

“You remember how to operate this thing?” Fenton asked Samantha.

“I think so, sir,” Samantha said politely. “It was easy the last time.”

She walked over to the staircase and pulled on a small lever next to the wall. An opening appeared in the floor and the staircase wound downward until it connected with the staircase below, forming a whole stairway.

“There we go,” she smiled back at Fenton.

Fenton was down the stairs in an instant, not bothering to wait for Deanna or Audrey. He looked around another empty room but, inside, he felt hope. Real hope.

We’re close. I know we’re close. Joe is around here somewhere. I know he is.

Fenton, Deanna, Audrey and Samantha all searched the walls and found the next opening in record time. Fenton, wasting no time at all, began kicking.

And kicking.

And kicking. Imagining the door was his nephew’s head made him kick even harder, until it finally cracked, groaned and gave way, shoving inward.

The next room was already lit up and it was not empty. There was a bed against the wall on the far side of the room and Fenton flew into a rage so immense if Deanna hadn’t stopped him, he would have killed Andrew where he stood. He was on top of a naked Joe, clearly raping him, a look of wild abandon on Andrew’s face.

Fenton raced forward and yanked Andrew off of his son, throwing the younger boy far away from Joe. He started to turn, to advance on Andrew, but this time Samantha stopped him.

“No, Mr. Hardy!” Samantha said. “Joe…Joe needs you.”

Joe was clearly in bad straits. Besides having just been raped, he was gasping for air, trying hard to breathe. Deanna pulled out her cell phone and dialed a number, racing up the stairs to get a better signal while Fenton carefully untied his son.

“See if you can find something for him to wear,” Fenton said to Samantha, who had turned away from Joe. She was standing with Frank, who had felt his way into the room and was standing near the opening. “There has to be something here.”

Samantha went into the small bathroom she saw to one side and Fenton gently stroked back his son’s hair.

“Joe?” he said. “Joe, it’s Dad. Can you hear me?”

Joe’s eyes were half-opened but he was struggling so hard to breathe, it was impossible to tell if he was listening to Fenton or not.

Frank cautiously made his way over to his dad’s side and placed a hand on Joe’s arm. Tears were streaming from Frank’s eyes, matching the ones that fell from Fenton’s. Fenton tried to wipe his, but seeing his son, knowing what happened to him…Fenton choked up as he pulled Joe close and held him, tightly.

“Joe, it’s Dad,” Fenton said again. “Listen to me, son. You have to breathe, okay? You need to keep breathing. Fight, Joe. You’ve been a fighter all your life and you’re not going to stop now, do you hear me? Fight!”

Joe gasped, struggling, trying to tear free of his father’s hold. He kicked and flailed for a moment until finally, he relaxed into Fenton’s arms and began to cry.

“You’re safe now,” Fenton whispered to his son. “You’re safe. Nobody is going to hurt you again. Do you hear me, Joe? Nobody’s going to ever hurt you again.”

“Tried, Dad,” Joe cried, speaking for the time. His voice sounded hoarse and uncertain but Fenton held him more tightly. “Tried to fight him. Hit my head. Drugged me. Tried to fight him.”

“I know!” Fenton assured him. “I know you did, Joe. I know it.”

Joe coughed and sagged back. His eyes opened slightly and he saw Frank standing near his father, staring off into space.

“Frank,” he whispered as he saw his brother.

He saw the tears on his brother’s face and more tears began to fall from Joe’s eyes. He wiped them quickly.

“Hey, brother,” Joe said again, reaching out and taking one of Frank’s hands. “Missed you, bro.”

“Joe…” Frank reached down and, somehow, managed to fold Joe into a hug of his own. Frank held Joe so tightly that Joe wondered if Frank would ever let go of him.

Joe didn’t want Frank to ever let go. Ever. Here, he was safe.

But it wouldn’t do for a guy to be seen hugging his brother for too long. He finally got Frank to sit up again.

“I feel like crap,” Joe said as he fell back against the pillows. “Can we get out of here now? Please?”

He paused for a moment.

“Where’s Andrew?”

Joe looked and saw his attacker and kidnapper there, in the corner, huddled in on himself. Joe glared at the other boy, showing no pity or mercy. He looked away.

“Don’t—” Joe looked at his father. “let him get away. Don’t.”

Fenton nodded and got up. He went over to where Andrew sat.

“Get up, Andrew,” he said to his nephew. Fenton grabbed one of Andrew’s arms and pulled him to his feet.

“Lemme go!” Andrew demanded. “Let me go!”

“No,” Fenton said.

A blonde-haired woman took over then. Joe had no idea who she was but she sounded efficient. “Andrew Mathews, you are under arrest for the kidnapping of Joe Hardy. You have the right to remain silent. If you give up this right anything you say can and will…”

Suddenly, Andrew lashed out with his hand and raked Fenton across one cheek. Fenton released Andrew and the boy went running, dodging past an auburn-haired woman who stood in the doorway. The two unfamiliar women, both of them cursing fluently, took off running after the now-fugitive boy.

“Let’s get you dressed,” Fenton said to Joe, as though nothing had just happened. He ignored the pain from the scratches in his cheek and took the clothing Sam handed him. “It’s time to go home.”

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Disclaimer

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.