"You think Frost hijacked his own shipment and then framed Biker?" Callie asked.
"Stranger things have happened," Frank replied.
"Frost hated Biker after he kicked him out of the company cycle club," Sue said thoughtfully.
"We'll explain later," Frank said in response to Callie's puzzled expression. "Let's tie up these clowns and try to find Dad."
Callie called the police while Frank and Joe tied up Switch and his pals.
"Why did Brandon want you to check out Frost's apartment?" Frank asked Sue.
"He's never believed that Biker stole those watches, and he thinks that maybe Frost had something to do with the hijacking."
For the second time that day, Frank felt as though his mind were an open book.
"But why would Brandon send you to Queens? Why not Sims?" Joe asked.
"I don't know," Sue replied with a shrug. "Brandon just said he was going back to the motel room to rest."
"He's out of the hospital?" Frank asked.
"Checked himself out," Sue responded. "He claimed the hospital was too noisy and he couldn't get any rest."
"Did you hear him leave this morning when he went to meet Biker?"
"I heard a phone ring in the next room early this morning," Sue said. "It woke me up, but I was too sleepy to notice anything else."
"You didn't hear a cycle pull away?" Joe asked.
"I guess I went back to sleep," Sue said apologetically.
"She's not a sleuth like us," Callie said as she rejoined the group. "She doesn't distrust people the way we do."
Joe looked at Callie skeptically.
"Let's leave Callie's car and Sue's bike at the house," Frank suggested. "If we can't find Dad and Sims, we'll all go to Queens and search Frost's apartment."
While Callie looked for lunch stuff in the Hardys' kitchen, Frank tried to locate his dad and Sims. "No luck," he said to Joe.
"Don't you guys have anything besides fish sticks?" Callie yelled from the kitchen.
"No!" Frank shouted back. "Joe ate all the cold cuts last night."
"Brandon isn't answering his phone," Sue said as she returned from the den. She had tried to call Brandon on Fenton's private phone.
"He's gone?" asked Frank suspiciously.
"I doubt it," Sue replied. "He said the hospital gave him a pretty strong sleeping pill and he was going to take a taxi back. He's probably out like alight."
"You thinking that Brandon is involved in this somehow?" Joe knew his brother well enough to read his thoughts.
"Why not?"
Sue laughed. "Brandon Dalton doesn't have the guts to say boo to his own shadow. He's all good looks and air."
"Guess what?" Callie said as she emerged from the kitchen. "You guys will have to buy us lunch along the way — unless you want fish-stick sandwiches."
"We've got to get gas," Frank announced as they headed for the highway.
"Hey, remember what one of those Sinbads said to Switch?" Joe suddenly asked with a start.
"What?"
"They were supposed to meet Frost at Daryl's. That's the gas station on Tenth."
"That was a while ago," Callie pointed out.
"It's worth a try," Frank said as he turned the van down Tenth. "Maybe someone can tell us which way Frost went."
Daryl's was one of the last full-service stations left in Bayport.
"Why are you stopping here?" Callie asked as Frank pulled the van into a vacant lot across the street from Daryl's.
"Look." Frank pointed to a Harley parked by the gas pumps.
"Let's check it out." Joe hopped from the van before Frank could say anything.
"Wait here," Frank said to Callie and Sue. "That might not be Frost's bike."
Joe was kneeling beside the bike when Frank approached.
"Ever seen an oil leak like that?" Joe asked. Directly beneath the engine was a dirty black patch of oil.
"Must have been here awhile," Frank noted, "to leak that much oil."
"Not so long," Joe said. "The tank isn't filled yet." The nozzle was in the bike's gas tank, and the pump was still working.
"Can I help you guys?"
Frank and Joe spun round. The station attendant leaned against the doorway leading into the office, wiping his greasy hands on an even greasier T-shirt. Joe recognized him from school.
"Hey, Randy," he said with a friendly wave. "Know whose bike this is?"
"No." Randy walked over to Frank and Joe.
"Know where the guy is?" Frank asked.
"Why?"
"I've been looking for a bike like that." Joe forced a smile.
"That piece of junk! I thought you knew something about bikes," Randy scoffed.
Joe sighed. "Just tell us where he is."
Randy shrugged. "Guy said he was going to the bathroom." He turned and wandered back inside the office.
"I'll check around the side," Joe said. "Try to phone Dad. Maybe he's — "
Joe's last words were cut short by the blast of a gun. The bullet smashed glass on the pump next to Joe. Frank and Joe jumped behind the pumps.
"Where'd that come from?" Frank yelled.
"Over there!"
Frank followed Joe's pointing finger. A small-barrel .38 was sticking out around the edge of the building, held by someone wearing a black cycle helmet.
"What's going on out — " Randy began as he stepped outside the station office.
"Get back!" Joe shouted and jumped up, waving the attendant back.
Frank yanked Joe back down as the gunman fired again.
Two more shots quickly followed. The last bullet struck the gas hose leading to Frost's Harley. The rubber hose split in two and fell to the ground. Gas spread around the cycle and the island.
"The gas pump!" Frank yelled.
Joe reached over to shut off the pump, but before he could, a fourth shot rang out. The bullet hit the concrete, sending sparks in all directions and hitting the rapidly spreading pool of gas. The gas exploded.
In a fraction of a second, the entire island of pumps was enshrouded in bright blue flames— with Frank and Joe caught in the middle!
Chapter 10
"WE'RE SURROUNDED!" Joe yelled as he held up his arms to protect his face from the flames.
A thick black plume of smoke rose into the air like a dark mushroom.
Frank spun around. Joe was right. Flames encircled them. Worse yet, the flames were getting thicker as more gas ran out. Running through the flames would mean getting seriously burned. But staying there would ensure a horrible death.
"The pump's going to explode!" Joe stared in horror as the fire ran up the split hose and engulfed the pump.
Frank spotted their one chance to escape.
"Over here, Joe!" he yelled above the crackle of the fire. He grabbed the faucet of the island's water hose and twisted it open. There was no way water could put out a gasoline fire, but ... he held the hose over his head until he was completely soaked then he turned it on Joe. "Ready?"
"Yeah," Joe replied.
"One, two, three."
The Hardys threw themselves into the flames and emerged singed but safe seconds later. Simultaneously, they rolled on the ground to smother any flames. Callie and Sue covered them with their jackets.
"You okay?" Joe asked as he brushed himself off.
Frank nodded.
Screams sounded from inside the station's office.
"Randy!" Joe yelled. "He'll be trapped inside."
Frank turned—to find Callie dashing into the small building. She grabbed the terrified attendant by the arm and tried to pull him toward the door. But Randy was crazy with fear. As Frank burst through the door, Randy's terrified thrashing had sent Callie spinning into a candy machine. She hit hard, gasped, and slid to the floor. Frank helped her up, grabbed the attendant, and began pulling him toward the door.
A sudden rush of air and heat hit Frank. He jumped back, watching helplessly as a wall of gas-fed flames rose up to block their only exi
t.
"We're gonna die!" the attendant screamed as he pulled away from Frank and ran to a corner of the office.
Frank grabbed a chair and threw it into the picture window on the side of the building. He dragged the attendant from the corner and hurled him out, sending him staggering to safety. Callie wobbled to her feet. Frank put his arm around her and both scrambled through the broken window.
Joe rushed forward to grab the dazed attendant. All four sprinted away from the building.
A loud crack shattered the air as the pumps exploded. The concussion and blast slammed them all to the ground. Thick black smoke rolled over them and began to choke them. Frank and Callie crawled away from the smoke as Joe and Sue dragged Randy away from danger.
Seconds later the gas station was surrounded by fire engines, police cars, and ambulances. Half an hour later the fire was extinguished, leaving the station a charred skeleton.
"Are you boys okay?" asked Officer Con Riley with concern. He had arrived with the fire engines and had waited till the paramedics had checked Frank, Joe, and Callie over.
"Yes," Frank replied. "But I don't think I'll want to roast hot dogs anytime soon."
"Mind telling me what happened here?" Officer Riley asked.
Frank hesitated, then explained that he, Joe, Callie, and Sue had been looking for Frost when they spotted his cycle at the gas station. "Next thing we knew, someone was shooting at us," Frank finished his story.
"And you think it was Frost firing at you?" Con asked.
"Yes," Joe said without hesitation. "We had a run-in with some members of his gang earlier. He knew we were on his tail."
"Hey, Con, come over here and look at this!" a fire fighter yelled as he pointed into a ditch next to the station.
"You four stick around. I'm not through getting your statements," Con Riley said as he walked toward the fire fighter.
"Shouldn't we tell him about the watches you and Frank found at the Sinbads' garage?" Sue asked Joe.
"Not yet," Joe replied. "The watches by themselves don't prove Frost was in on the hijacking. We need to check out Frost's apartment first."
"Frank, Joe, come over here," Officer Riley shouted.
Frank and Joe walked over to the ditch.
"Know who he was?" Officer Riley asked, pointing into the ditch.
They saw the body of a dead man with a switchblade in his back. On his left forearm was a tattoo of a snowflake with a blood-drenched knife sticking through it. But Frank stared at the gaunt, scarred face.
"It's Nick Frost, isn't it?" Frank asked.
"Right you are," Con replied. "Know how he got here?"
"No," Joe said quickly.
"I guess someone else must have been shooting at you two," said Con Riley. He walked down into the ditch and knelt beside the body. "What's this?" he asked, pulling a wallet from beneath the body. He opened it, took out a driver's license, and then stood. "You two know somebody named Robert Conway?"
Frank and Joe looked at each other with stunned expressions.
"He's a friend of ours," Frank finally said.
Officer Riley signaled for Randy to join them, then gestured at Frost's body. "Is this the man who came in to get gas?" he asked the attendant.
"Y - yes," Randy answered. His face went pale when he looked at the dead man.
"See anybody else?"
"Another guy on a bike pulled up after he did," the attendant replied.
"What did he look like?" Joe asked. He glanced at Con Riley, who didn't appreciate Joe's butting in.
"I couldn't tell. He had on a black helmet and a black leather motorcycle jacket and pants."
The attendant looked at Con Riley. "Can I go now? I think I'm going to be sick."
Officer Riley nodded, and the attendant hurried away.
"Conway," Con Riley said thoughtfully. "I arrested him about three years ago for buying stolen motorcycle parts. He's an escaped con, isn't he?"
"He's as innocent now as he was three years ago," Joe rapped out.
Officer Riley, tapping the license against his hand, looked skeptically at Joe. "The description we have at the station says he rides a new Har-ley."
"His bike was destroyed when it smashed into a brick wall," Joe said.
"How would you know that?" Riley asked, his eyes full of suspicion.
Joe raised his injured arm in its sling. "I was on it at the time."
"What about the bike he took from the Sinbads?" Callie asked.
"Callie!" Joe shouted. He couldn't believe that Frank's girlfriend would betray Biker.
Frank quickly explained to Con Riley about the first run-in with the Sinbads the night before. "But Biker wasn't wearing his helmet or his jacket," he concluded.
"That's right," Joe added. "I have them. They're still in the van." Joe rushed over to the van, pulled out Biker's helmet and jacket, and handed them to Con.
"There's no proof that these are Conway's," Riley said.
"You have my word they are," Joe told him.
Con Riley looked at the jacket and helmet and then at Joe. "This may cost me my badge, but I believe you. It still doesn't clear Conway, though."
"Look at this," Frank said from the ditch.
Joe and Officer Riley joined Frank, who was holding up one of Frost's hands.
"Frost's knuckles are scraped and bruised, as if he'd been in a fight," Frank said.
"You're right," Riley replied. "But I don't see why that's important."
"Look at him," Frank said.
Joe and Con Riley looked at Frost's unbruised face.
"If he'd been in a fight, he should be all marked up, shouldn't be? There's not a cut on him."
Con Riley tilted back his hat and scratched his head.
Just then, Sims's beat-up old Chevy pulled up next to the police cars. Sims and Fenton Hardy got out and walked over to the ditch.
"Nick Frost," Frank explained when his father stood beside him.
"Any suspects?" Fenton asked Con Riley.
"The attendant said that another cyclist pulled up shortly after Frost. That was the last he saw of Frost or the other guy."
"Whoever killed Frost tried to kill us, too," Frank added.
"Conway," Sims growled.
"What?" Joe demanded angrily.
"With Frost gone, Conway has a better chance of having his conviction overturned," Sims replied.
"He wouldn't shoot at us," Joe said through clenched teeth.
"Your friend's a convicted thief. I've dealt with scum like him before. You can't trust him."
"We've got proof that Biker didn't steal those watches!" Joe blurted out.
His words were drowned out as a police radio blared a report. "Suspect apprehended at edge of town."
A triumphant grin spread across Sims's face as he grabbed Biker's license from Con Riley.
"It doesn't matter whether he stole the watches or not. He's a murderer—and now he's locked up."
Chapter 11
"I WANT TO SEE Biker and hear his side of the story," Joe demanded.
"Forget it, kid," Sims replied.
"It's best that you stay away from Conway," Fenton agreed.
"Your father's right," Sims went on. "You shouldn't be hanging around a killer."
"He's not a murderer!" Joe shouted. He lunged at Sims, grabbing the older man by the lapels of his jacket. Frank pulled his brother away.
"Settle down," Frank said. "You're not doing Biker any good by losing your temper."
Frank had to drag Joe over to the van, out of Sims's hearing.
"Look, Biker's safe in jail," Frank whispered harshly. "Whoever killed Frost and shot at us will probably try to get Biker, too. Anybody desperate enough to kill once won't hesitate to do it again."
Frank was relieved to see a glint of understanding come into Joe's eyes. "Now, let's go to Queens and search Frost's apartment before Sims gets the idea to do the same thing."
Joe nodded and climbed into the passenger side of the van.
"You still want to come along?" Frank asked Sue.
"Staying here won't help Biker," she replied. "Besides, you'll be able to find Frost's apartment more quickly with me to guide you."
With that, Frank, Callie, and Sue got into the van.
"Where are you going?" Joe asked as Frank pulled away from the burnt gas station. "The highway to New York is in the other direction."
"I know," Frank replied. "I don't want Sims to see us leaving town. So I'll head downtown for a couple of blocks and then take another route to the highway." Frank checked his rear-view mirror several times to make sure Sims wasn't following.
"This is it," Sue said a couple of hours later. Frank stopped the van in front of a dingy five-story apartment building.
"Frost's place is on the third floor," she added, "apartment three-F."
"You two keep watch outside," Joe said as he hopped into the back of the van and opened a box containing various disguises. "Frank and I will handle this."
Callie was ready to protest when Frank raised his hand.
"We'll need some warning if Sims or the cops show up," he explained, then winked at Callie.
Callie smiled as she and Sue got out of the van.
"Acme Speedy Delivery," Joe said as he threw one of two blue jumpsuits at Frank.
They quickly pulled on their disguises. Joe grabbed a clipboard and handed a wrapped, empty box to Frank.
"That ought to do it," he said.
The inside of the apartment building was as dingy as the outside. Frank and Joe had to use the stairs because the elevator had broken down.
"Here it is," Joe said as they walked down a darkened hallway.
Frank put the box on the floor and pulled out a case full of lock picks. He crouched down, inserted a pick in the lock, and in seconds had opened the door.
They entered the apartment and Frank locked the door from the inside.
"This place could stand a tidal wave of disinfectant," Frank said wrinkling his nose at the smell of dirty laundry and unwashed dishes.
Joe was too busy going through Frost's dresser drawers to notice the smell.
Frank walked over to a window and opened it to air out the room. He looked around. The place was a mess. Food wrappers, dirty TV-dinner trays, old clothes, cycle magazines, and record albums littered the floor. Frank kicked some of the stuff out of his way and decided to check under the bed.
Nowhere to Run Page 5
