Flesh and Blood (7 page)

Suddenly Callie gasped and stopped her struggling. Mock let loose, and Callie fell to the floor.

"Callie," Frank whispered, his mind whirling.

The scene jumped again. This time an unshaven, sweaty-looking Martin Mangieri stared into the camera, his face taking up the entire big screen.

"Want your girlfriend, Hardy? Come and get her before she becomes just another part of the big bang theory!" Mangieri laughed, his throaty cackle echoing throughout the house.

Then the big-screen television filled with static snow and hissed at the horrified Hardys.

Joe took the remote control from Frank and shut off the TV.

Frank sat staring at the blank screen, his eyes vacant.

Chet groaned.

The Hardys turned to see their friend sitting up in his chair.

"I'm sorry, Frank," Chet said, his voice weak.

"Did you get a look at the second man, at Bobby Mock?" Frank asked.

"No. Mangieri got in a couple of lucky shots, and all I saw were stars, Big Dipper and all." Chet rubbed his swollen jaw.

"I'll get some ice," Frank said.

"What happened? What took you so long to get here?" Joe asked.

"When I came to, Callie was gone, but her camcorder was still there. I played the tape back through the camera and saw what had happened. I had to find you, but I ran out of gas and walked the rest of the way."

Frank returned with a towel and ice. "Why didn't you go to the police?" he asked.

"Ow!" Chet groaned as he pressed the ice against his chin. "I knew Collig wouldn't let you look at the tape."

"Then you don't know what's going on?" Joe sat across from his old friend.

"What?" Chet's eyes darted between Frank and Joe.

Frank picked up the adoption file and handed it to Chet.

"Look at it."

Chet opened the file. "Hey! That's me," he said as he spotted the computerized image of himself. Then he read further.

A moment later he jumped up and flung the file at Frank.

"This is garbage!" he shouted.

"I agree," Frank replied. He reshuffled the file. "The copyright dates are all wrong."

"What?" Joe didn't like it when Frank kept clues from him.

"When we first looked at these," Frank began, holding up the file, "I noticed that the copyright date on the forms was from last year."

"So?" Chet asked, still pressing the ice against his chin.

"So, if your adoption had taken place years ago, the copyright on the forms would be from then or earlier." Frank let the file fall on the coffee table. "You've been set up."

Chet's eyes narrowed. Joe could tell his friend was thinking revenge. "Who did it?"

"Don West," Joe answered.

"We think it's Don West," Frank corrected.

Joe squinted at Frank in disbelief. He said in a low voice, "Who else? You were positive an hour ago."

Frank returned Joe's glare but remained silent.

"Don had access to the vital records department at city hall," Joe rattled off. "The pictures we found at Leonard Mock's apartment only go back three years - "

"About the same time Don West moved to Bayport," Chet finished.

Joe continued, "And this morning, when Don showed up here with the adoption file, he had a large bruise on his cheek on the same spot where I hit Bobby Mock last night." Joe paused. "So what's your problem, Frank?"

"It's too neat."

"You should talk about things being too neat, Mr. Clean."

"There's no such thing as the perfect crime or the perfect suspect," Frank replied calmly.

"Yeah, right. What's that from? Frank Hardy's Guide to Detective Work?" Joe spit out.

"I'm just saying we need to be cautious. First we have to find Callie."

"What did Mangieri mean about the big bang theory?" Chet asked.

"I don't know," Frank answered.

"Find Don West, and I bet we find Callie," Joe insisted.

"Maybe," Frank replied. "But if we go after West, and West isn't Mock, then we could be wasting time while Callie is - " Frank's voice broke off.

Joe and Chet exchanged a quick glance. There was no need for Frank to finish his sentence.

"One thing's for sure," Chet said. "We all know Mangieri's involved."

Frank's and Joe's heads jerked toward Chet.

"Leave it to Chet to point out the obvious," Joe said with a smile.

"Chet's right," Frank said. "We find Mangieri, and I bet we find Callie."

"And Bobby Mock," Joe added.

"Why is Mangieri even involved?" Chet asked.

"Money," Joe replied. "I'd still like to know how he got out of jail, what kind of deal he cut."

"That's a question Con Riley can answer," Frank answered.

"I say we find Mangieri and do a little knuckle tap dance on his head." Chet stood to his full height. "I owe him a dance or two." He handed Frank the towel and ice and headed for the door. "Well?" he said as he stood with the door held open.

"Right with you, buddy," Joe said with a smile.

The trio jumped back into the black van. While Joe drove, Frank looked over the newspaper clippings. Besides being old and faded, they weren't very good photos. Frank pulled a small magnifying glass from the crime kit he kept under his portable laptop computer in the back of the van. He moved the glass slowly over the photos. After he had gone over each one carefully, he started over again.

"What are you looking for?" Chet asked over Frank's shoulder.

"A young kid."

"Why?"

"Mock was so attached to his son that it's possible he had him attend the trial. I'm trying to see if I can find a young kid in these newsclippings."

"Hey, you two going to help me look or what?"

They had reached the downtown area, and Joe was driving up and down streets where they shouldn't have been. The area was clearly posted as being off limits to keep looters away.

Chet joined Joe in the front while Frank stayed in the back.

"What's Frank doing back there?" Joe asked.

They were just about to turn onto Fifth Street when a siren pierced the air. Joe brought the van to a jarring halt as a police cruiser pulled up behind them.

A metallic voice boomed from the cruiser's speakers.

"All right. Step out of the van. With your hands in the open."

Frank, Joe, and Chet moved slowly from the van, their hands held open, palms out.

"Now stand against the van, legs spread. And don't move."

"Officer - " Joe began.

He was jerked to one side and then slammed against the side of the van. He was ready to turn when he heard the click of a revolver and felt the cold steel of a barrel against his neck.

"Freeze!"

"All right, boys," began a second cop, "what are you doing here? This area is off limits."

"We were looking for a friend, Officer Stewart," Frank said, recognizing the slow drawl of the second policeman.

"Frank Hardy?" Officer Stewart turned Frank around. "Joe? Chet?"

"Yes," Frank said. "And we are looking for a friend."

"Tell your partner to ease up," Joe said.

"Cool it, Bud. I know these kids."

The first officer slowly let the hammer down on his .38, holstered it, and then walked back to the police cruiser.

Joe breathed for the first time in moments.

"Who you looking for?" Officer Stewart asked.

"Don West," Joe said quickly.

"We haven't seen him for a couple of hours, and we got worried," Frank added.

"The city manager's son?"

"Yes," Joe said.

"Haven't seen him," Officer Stewart said.

"Perhaps he made it home by now. We'll check there." Frank didn't want to hang around chatting with Officer Stewart while Callie was still in danger.

"I suggest all you boys head for home," Officer Stewart said. "The next cop who stops you may mistake you for looters, and you'll end up in jail."

"We'll be careful," Joe assured him.

"Hey, Stewart. Stop them. Chief Collig wants us to bring them in," Bud yelled from the cruiser, the mike of the police radio in his hand.

"Quick! In the van!" Frank shouted. He pushed Chet into the van, jumped in after him, and slammed the door shut.

Joe hopped into the driver's seat, threw the van into reverse, and peeled out. He made a hairpin turn in reverse, threw the van into first, and sped away.

"What's going on?" Chet demanded. He lost his balance in the turn and fell against the rear couch.

"Chief Collig threatened to put us into protective custody if he caught us working on this case," Frank explained.

"No one's behind us," Joe said as he checked the side-view mirror.

"We need a different set of wheels," Frank said. "You can bet Chief Collig will put out an all-points bulletin on this van."

"Aunt Gertrude's car," Joe suggested.

"No. I don't want to take a chance on the police being at our house looking for us."

"Hey! They won't be looking for my car," Chet said.

"Your car?" Joe didn't want to hurt his best friend's feelings, but Chet's car was little better than a junker. Joe had spent too many weekends under the hood of the sedan trying to keep it running. "But it's out of gas."

"No problem," Chet said. "We can siphon the gas from the van's reserve tank."

"Great idea," Joe said with a roll of his eyes.

Minutes later they pulled up behind Chet's car, which sat on a side road. At least, Joe thought, we won't be in traffic where a cop might see us.

Joe pulled a three-foot section of hose from the back of the van, unlocked the gas cap, shoved the hose down the tank, and took a deep breath. He didn't relish the thought of tasting gasoline.

"Here's the can." Frank placed a five-gallon gas can next to Joe.

"Thanks." But Joe didn't sound thankful. "Where's Chet?"

"He's rummaging around in his trunk for something," Frank replied.

"Yuck!" Joe spat gasoline as he put the hose into the gas can.

"Hey, Joe, I found it!" Chet dashed up to Joe.

"Found what?" Joe asked.

"The siphon hose." Chet held up a small hose that had a hand pump on one end - a pump that could manually create suction and drain the reserve tank.

"You mean I drank gasoline and you had a siphon pump all this time?" Joe's lips thinned, and his eyes narrowed.

"Well, sure. Dad bought this for me in case I needed gas from one of the other cars."

"Great," Joe mumbled.

The gas can filled, and Chet poured the gas into his car. He hopped in the front seat while Joe took off the air filter and primed the carburetor by pouring in a small amount of gasoline. He stepped back. After a couple of tries, Chet's car sputtered to life.

"Hop in, guys!"

Frank jumped in the back while Joe slid into the front.

"Where to?" Chet pulled the car away from the curb.

Frank sat silently. All the time Joe and Chet had been putting gas into the sedan, he was thinking about the videotape - Mangieri and Bobby Mock attacking Callie and Chet. Then Mangieri's face leering out at them, telling them that Callie would be a part of the big bang theory. Frank had always thought Mangieri was barely this side of crazy, but his last remark just didn't make sense.

"Frank!" Joe reached back and tapped Frank on the knee.

"Where to?" Chet repeated.

"What would Mangieri be doing with Bobby Mock?" Frank asked.

"Birds of a feather," Chet replied. "Creeps will hang around with creeps."

"You may be more right than you realize, Chet." Frank sat on the edge of the backseat. "Stop at the next convenience store."

"Why?" Joe asked.

"So we can do what we should have done in the first place," Frank replied. "Look up Mangieri's address in the phone book."