Tagged for Terror (9 page)

Joe walked over to the window and stared out at the city. "I used to have someone special in my life," he said softly. "I know how it is."

Frank knew he was thinking about Iola Morton. It wasn't something Joe talked about very much, but Iola's death had left a scar that would never fully heal. When she was killed by a bomb meant for the Hardys, Joe had turned his grief into determination to find and punish those responsible for her murder. The trail had led to an international terrorist group known simply as the Assassins, and Frank and Joe had thwarted the Assassins' plot to murder a man running for president of the United States.

Frank's own girlfriend, Callie Shaw, frequently helped the Hardys on their investigations, and Frank often told Callie things that he would never tell anybody else. So he could hardly blame Gina for being careless or betraying their confidence.

"I think we both understand," Frank said. "Now let's just deal with the facts. How well do you know Solomon Mapes?"

Gina smiled. "Well enough to fall for him in a big way. I met Solomon a few weeks ago when I started working at Eddings. I don't know his whole life story, but I think I know him better than most people do."

"So you're pretty serious about this guy?" Frank asked.

"Very serious," Gina responded. "We have big plans." "What kind of plans?" Frank prodded. "Solomon isn't going to be a plain old pilot for the rest of his life," Gina explained. "He won't even be at Eddings that much longer. He's going to start his own air freight company, and I'm going to help him." She stopped abruptly and put her hand over her mouth. "Oops," she said with an embarrassed smile. "I wasn't supposed to tell anybody. I guess I'm not very good at keeping secrets. I probably wouldn't make a very good detective after all."

"An air freight company," Joe said. "Won't it take a lot of money to start a business like that? I mean, you need planes, right? And planes aren't exactly cheap."

Gina shrugged. "I don't really understand the details. Solomon only has to put up part of the money. He'll get the rest from financial backers."

"Still," Frank said, "I bet he'll have to come up with a big chunk of change himself before he can convince anybody else to back him."

"Solomon knows what he's doing," Gina-responded a little defensively. "He's ambitious, but I think that's a good quality."

"As long as he's not too ambitious," Joe remarked.

After a few more questions, Frank concluded that Gina either didn't know or wasn't going to tell them anything about Solomon Mapes that might link him to the thefts. Joe was reluctant to leave, and Frank had to throw several large hints at him before he managed to steer his brother out the door.

"I hope we weren't too hard on her," Joe said as they got in the car. "First we get her to confess to some petty crimes in her past, and then we grill her about her boyfriend. If we find out that Mapes is running this operation, I hope I'm not the one to break the news to Gina."

Frank sighed. "I hope I'm not the one who has to break the news to you if we find out Gina's involved. I know you like her. I like her, too — but we can't let that cloud our judgment."

"Why are you so suspicious of her?" Joe snapped. "I think she's being straight with us."

"You're entitled to your opinion," Frank shot back. "I'm not saying Gina is guilty of anything, but nothing she said just now makes her any less of a suspect than she was an hour ago."

Joe glared at his brother for a minute. He knew Frank was right, but he hated to admit it. "Okay," he said flatly, his gaze shifting to the road in front of the car. "Let's concentrate on our next move."

"We need to find out more about Mapes," Frank said. "Something about Gina's story doesn't make sense. When we first met Mapes, Eddings told us he wanted to start up an air freight division for Eddings Air. So why the decision to go solo?"

"That's a good question," Joe replied.

"But besides checking out Mapes, we have to find out more about Forrester," he added. "If he's taking bribes to forge employee records, he could be involved in heavier stuff, too."

Frank nodded. "He's in the perfect position to cover up any evidence that might point to the ringleaders of the luggage theft ring."

"Do you think we should tell Eddings?" Joe asked.

"Not yet," Frank answered. "All we have is Gina's word against Forrester. We need hard evidence before Eddings would listen to any charges against his security chief." He paused for a second. "But I definitely think it's time we had our meeting with Eddings. He said we had to talk soon. I can't think of anybody who could tell us more about Mapes or Forrester."

Frank reached Eddings on the phone around the time Joe's stomach started grumbling for dinner. Eddings suggested they meet in the park by his house again.

Eddings was pacing impatiently by the duck pond when Frank and Joe got to the park. "I heard there was some kind of accident when you were loading bags into a plane today," Eddings said.

Frank and Joe exchanged a glance. The last thing either one of them wanted to tell Eddings was that someone had engineered the "accident." He had already warned them that he would pull them off the case if it got too dangerous.

"Who told you?" Frank asked.

"Forrester told me," Eddings answered. "The foreman filed an accident report and sent a copy to Forrester. It's standard procedure." He turned to face Joe. "It was an accident, wasn't it?"

Joe chose his words carefully. "It looks that way."

"Hmm," Eddings responded. "I have a feeling there's something you're not telling me, but we'll drop that for now. Fill me in on what you've learned the past couple of days."

After the boys answered his questions and concerns, he asked what they wanted to see him about.

"We just need a little more background information on Eddings personnel," Frank said.

"Why come to me?" Eddings asked. "Talk to Forrester."

"Actually," Frank responded, "Hank Forrester is one of the people we wanted to know about."

Eddings raised his eyebrows. "Oh? What do you want to know?"

"Just routine background information," Frank said casually.

"I see," Eddings said slowly. He began pacing again. "Forrester is a good man. He was a career air force officer. He wanted to be a fighter pilot, but he didn't make the grade. So he did a little of everything from aircraft maintenance to design, and he eventually went into air force security. He came to Eddings Air when he retired from the service."

"What about Solomon Mapes?" Joe asked. "What can you tell us about him?"

Eddings snorted. "Solomon is a completely different story. He'd never last a day in the air force. He couldn't hack the discipline.

"What he lacks in maturity he makes up in talent and drive," Eddings continued. "And he's one of the best pilots I've ever seen. But flying isn't enough for Solomon. He wants more. But I'm not ready to give it to him — not yet. I've just decided he's too young and inexperienced to head up our new freight division." Eddings stopped talking abruptly and glanced sheepishly at the Hardys. It seemed to Frank as though Eddings felt he had revealed too much.

"Can you give us anything else on Mapes?" Joe asked.

"Nothing that would help you," Eddings replied.

"We won't take up any more of your time," Frank said. "Thanks for the information."

Eddings waved vaguely as the Hardys departed, his face turned toward the pond.

"What do you think?" Joe asked his brother as they ambled back to the car.

"I think we have a motive for Mapes now," Frank said. "If the freight division for Eddings Air was Mapes's idea and Eddings isn't going to let him head it up, then Mapes is probably pretty angry. I think part of his plan is to compete with Eddings. I'm also thinking about how Mapes knew we took the luggage."

"He'd have to steal a whole lot of luggage to finance an air freight company," Joe remarked.

"True," Frank conceded. "But Gina said he only had to put up part of the money. Bank loans and other investors might be supplying the rest."

They stopped at a restaurant and grabbed a late dinner before heading back to Danny's. By then it was late.

An hour later the phone ran at Danny's, waking them both.

"Where have you been?" a man's voice snapped in Joe's ear before he had a chance to say hello.

"You're not my mother," Joe retorted. "So why should I tell you?"

"We're tired of fooling around with you punks," the man said tersely. "We want that luggage."

"I told you before it would take some time," Joe replied.

"Your time is up," the man said.

"I'm shaking in my boots," Joe responded glibly. "What are you going to do? Kill us? Then you'll never get your luggage."

There was a dry, ominous chuckle on the other end of the line. "We're not going to touch you — not yet, anyway. We've got who we want. Gina Abend. If you don't do exactly what I tell you to do, the next time you see her, she'll be laid out in the morgue."

THE WORDS HIT JOE like a punch in the stomach. Frank saw the color drain from his brother's face and knew something was very wrong.

Joe covered the receiver with his hand. "They've got Gina," he said.

"Are you sure?" Frank whispered. "Get proof. Tell them you want to talk to her."

Joe spoke into the phone. "Put Gina on the line. I want to make sure she's all right."

There was no response on the other end. Then Joe heard a small, frightened voice that sounded far away. "Joe? Frank? Please do whatever they say."

The gruff man's voice returned. "Satisfied?"

"Okay," Joe said, struggling to keep his voice steady. "You're in charge."

"Remember that," the man replied, "and the girl will keep breathing. Are the bags still at the airport?"

"Yes," Joe answered.

"Good. Be on the train that runs between the concourses at five A. M. Enter at Concourse D, and we'll meet you on the train. You can show us where you hid the stuff."

"Bring Gina," Joe responded. "Otherwise, no deal."

"You forget so quickly," the cold, flat voice said. "I'm calling the shots. Just be on the train. Don't tell anybody else. Don't bring anybody with you. Try anything funny and the girl dies."

There was a hollow click, and Joe knew the line was dead.

"Five in the morning on the automated train at the airport," Joe told Frank.

"That gives us a little more time to find out who we're dealing with," Frank said.

"Where do we go from here?" Joe responded.

Frank picked up the phone book and flipped through it. "Here we go. Mapes, Solomon." He wrote down the address.

Joe frowned. "Do you think Mapes would kidnap and threaten to kill his own girlfriend?"

"It doesn't seem very likely," Frank admitted. "But who else knew about the luggage that we took?"

Joe shrugged. "Nobody, as far as we know."

"There's also another possibility," Frank said.

Joe looked at his brother. He knew how Frank's mind worked. "I know," Joe said with a sigh. "If Gina's involved in the theft ring with Mapes, they could have faked the kidnapping."

Frank nodded.

"I still think Gina's innocent," Joe said. "We don't have much choice anyway — if they're not bluffing and we don't deliver the bags ... " His voice trailed off.

"Don't worry," Frank replied. "We won't let anything happen to her. We just have to keep one step ahead of them, that's all. And the first step is to drop by Mapes's house to see if he has any plans for the rest of the night."

The Hardys found Mapes's house in one of the newer housing developments that had grown up on the outskirts of the city, not far from the airport. Joe drove slowly by the red brick ranch house, pulled into a driveway near the end of the block, turned around, parked, and killed the headlights.

"The lights are on," Frank observed.

Joe nodded. "And there are two cars in the driveway. It looks like Mapes is doing a little late-night entertaining." He glanced over at his brother. "Want to join the party?"

Frank and Joe slipped quietly out of the car and walked down the sidewalk like a couple of locals out for a late-night stroll. As they neared the redbrick house, the front door swung open, spilling a rectangle of light into the darkness. Frank darted behind a huge flowering bush, and Joe scrambled after him.

Peering around the side of the bush, Joe saw four figures emerge from the house. Even though they were cloaked in shadow, he instantly recognized one of them. "Gina!" he gasped. "And that's Mapes next to her. But I don't know the other two. Do you?"

Frank squinted to get a better look at the two tall, wide men behind Gina and Mapes. They were both wearing baggy business suits, and one of the men had several days worth of beard. Frank thought he looked like a well-dressed bum. There was something naggingly familiar about him, too.

Frank studied the men as they walked toward one of the cars parked in the driveway, a black, four-door sedan. One of the strangers got in the front passenger seat, next to Mapes. The other got in the back with Gina.

"The guy who needs a new razor," he whispered to Joe. "I think he was driving the Lincoln that tried to run us off the road."

"It looks like they're working for Mapes," Joe responded.

Crouching low and trying to keep bushes and trees between them and the car in Mapes's driveway, Frank and Joe ran back to their rented car. The black sedan pulled out of the driveway and swung in the Hardys' direction, the glare of the headlights piercing the windshield of the parked car. Joe ducked down, almost bonking heads with his brother, who dived for cover at the same time.

After the sedan had passed, Joe started the engine and cranked the wheel in a tight U-turn. He hung back and waited for the black car to go around a corner before he flicked on his headlights and followed.

Joe kept a healthy distance between the two cars. He had tailed enough suspects to know how to do it without being spotted.

"I wish we could get a closer look at them," Frank said. "When they came out of the house, nobody was holding Gina, and it didn't look like she was forced into the car."