The Ice-cold Case (5 page)

They went to the woods and picked up branches about six feet long and a few inches around, breaking off the twigs and loose bark to make sturdy walking sticks. They used them to tap on the ice to make sure it was solid before stepping on it.

“You're right about one thing,” Frank said. “Whoever's doing all this isn't coming by car. They either walk through the woods or they're already in the area by nightfall.”

“If they walk through the woods, it could be anybody,” Joe said.

“What do you think about the Tuttles?” Frank asked as he looked over at the bait shop.

“Seems a little too lucky that they took all the expensive stuff out of the shed before the fire,” Joe said.

“You're right about that,” Frank agreed. “But I'm still stumped on a motive for Ernie.”

“I know, but it would explain why the Kwans aren't seeing any cars,” Joe said. “And the fire could have been a diversion to throw us off.”

“Maybe they're just trying to make Ray and his friends look guilty,” Frank said.

They walked around the lake for nearly an hour, taking note of which houses had lights on and which were dark.

Joe stopped and stared at a large house belonging to a friend of their father. “Frank, check out Lindsay Dixon's place.” Through an upper window, he saw a man carrying a television.

“Isn't Lindsay in Europe?” Frank said.

“That's what I thought. So who's the guy with the TV?” Joe said.

“What kind of idiot robs a house with all the lights on?” Frank asked.

“Let's get him!” Joe said.

“Let's call the cops first. He could be armed,” Frank said.

“And let him get away?” Joe said as he began running toward Dixon's house.

They climbed onto the large deck behind the
house. Then Joe used a thin metal tool he carried with him to unlock the sliding glass door.

“Ready?” Joe whispered.

They pushed the sliding door open. Joe slipped into the house and Frank followed quickly behind.

They heard heavy footsteps above them as they made their way to the stairway. Joe pointed to a door under the stairs. “Basement?” he whispered.

Frank opened the door to the basement and saw the fuse box at the top of the stairs. Joe nodded. Frank slowly opened the fuse box, but the metal door squeaked. Frank froze, waiting for a reaction from above. They heard nothing. Frank reached into the fuse box and turned off the main circuit, sending the house into complete darkness.

“What the . . .” came a voice from upstairs.

“Get back,” Frank whispered to Joe.

The man who had been carrying the TV came lumbering down the stairs while Frank and Joe hid just out of sight. When he reached the bottom step, Joe dove and tackled him. They rolled across the floor as the guy tried to push Joe off. He got an arm free and reached for Joe's throat. Joe struggled to hold him, but the guy was big—at least six feet tall—and had an athletic build. Frank guessed he was in his thirties.

Frank ran over and got his arm around the guy's neck in a choke hold.

“Give it up, buddy,” Frank shouted.

The man finally stopped struggling. Frank held him pinned to the floor.

“Who are you?” Frank demanded. “What are you doing here?”

“What are
you
doing here?” he shouted back.

“Where were you going with that television?” Joe asked.

“Take it—you can have it. Just leave me out of this,” the guy said.

“We know about the robberies,” Joe said.

“And we want to know what else you took,” Frank added.

“I didn't take anything; I'm house-sitting.”

“Why were you carrying the TV?” Joe asked.

“I was moving the big TV to my bedroom,” the guy said.

“Whose house is this?” Frank asked.

“Lindsay Dixon. He's in Italy for the winter. My name's Doug Lang.”

Frank waved at Joe to let Lang up. “We're investigating the robberies around here and we saw you,” Frank explained.

“How do I know
you're
not the robbers?” Lang said indignantly.

“How do we know you're really the house sitter?” Joe replied.

“Because I'm telling you I am,” Lang said.

Joe reluctantly let Lang up off the floor.

“Anyone might know where Dixon is,” Joe said. “Can you prove you're house-sitting?”

“Lindsay offered me the place so I could paint in peace,” Lang said.

Lang led them upstairs, though Frank and Joe were careful to be sure he wasn't leading them up to an accomplice. Lang showed them his clothes in the closet. “And how do I know you guys are on the level?”

“Call the police and ask,” Frank told him. “We're Frank and Joe Hardy.”

Lang went to the phone and dialed.

“Yeah, my name's Doug Lang,” he said into the phone. “I'm house-sitting at Lindsay Dixon's house. . . . Do you know Frank and Joe Hardy?”

Frank and Joe watched Lang's expression change.

“So they
are
investigators. Why am I asking? Because they just jumped me,” Lang explained. “No, no I don't want to file a complaint. What I want is to be let alone.”

“Can I talk to him?” Frank asked.

Lang handed Frank the phone.

“Hi, this is Frank Hardy. Is Chief Collig there, please?” Frank smiled at Lang. A moment later Collig got on the phone.

“Chief Collig? It's Frank Hardy here. Do you know if Lindsay Dixon has a house sitter in his place?” Frank asked.

Collig told Frank he had a letter from Dixon about Lang.

Frank took a deep breath as he handed the phone back to Lang. “We owe you an apology.”

Lang hung up the phone.

“We're really sorry,” Joe said.

“Will you please get out of here and leave me alone?” Lang said.

“Sure, but if you see or hear anything, will you let us know?” Joe asked.

“I think I'll just call the cops,” Lang said as he ushered them to the door.

When Frank and Joe got back onto the lake, they
picked up their walking sticks and proceeded to tap their way around the rest of the lake.

“I think we really bonded with him there,” Joe said, then laughed.

“I'm not going to hold my breath waiting for a dinner invitation,” Frank said.

“You'd think with all that's going on around here, he'd be more appreciative that we were trying to protect him,” Joe grumbled.

“Maybe he doesn't know what's been going on,” Frank said.

“Or maybe he knows exactly what's going on,” Joe said pointedly.

“Hey, just because we mugged him and he doesn't see the value in it doesn't make him the bad guy,” Frank said.

“Just something to consider,” Joe said.

The night was getting colder, and the wind was picking up. They spent another half hour completing the circle of the lake but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

Suddenly the quiet of the night was sliced by the roar of a chain saw.

“Who's cutting wood at this hour?” Frank asked.

Joe looked back to the spot where they had parked the van, a few hundred yards away. “Sounds like it's coming from near the van.”

When they reached the van, the noise had stopped and there was no sign of anyone.

“Everything looks okay,” Frank said.

“Let's head home before someone breaks another window,” Joe said as they climbed into the van.

Frank put the van in gear and got back on the road.

Suddenly there was a flash as the gleaming headlights caught a large tree falling across the road just a few feet in front of them.

“Look out!” Joe shouted.

Frank slammed on the brakes and turned the wheel sharply as the van skidded into the path of the falling tree.

The brakes screeched, and the van lurched to a stop.

“I've never seen a tree with moves like that,” Joe said as he grabbed a flashlight from the glove compartment. He hopped out and ran to the base of the fallen tree. He could see sawdust on the ice surrounding the stump. “It's been cut all right,” he called to Frank. “Almost all the way through.”

Frank came over to Joe, who was now shining the light into the dark forest.

“See anything?” Frank asked.

“No,” Joe said. “But they were smart. The ground is all icy here, so they wouldn't leave any tracks.”

They were standing in a low part of the forest that in warmer weather would be a swampy bog.
Now the ground all around them was mottled ice with fallen branches and twigs sticking out.

“And the woods aren't very thick, either,” Frank added. “They could've pushed the tree over and made a break for it. Whoever did it is long gone by now.”

They went back to the van and saw that Frank had brought it to a stop only a few inches from the tree.

“We'd better move that tree before anyone else drives into it,” Frank said.

The tree was too heavy for them to drag across the road, so they took a rope and tied the tree to their van. Joe stood by the tree and signaled to Frank as he backed the van up, dragging the tree across the road. Then they used their walking sticks as levers to push the heavy trunk off the road so no one else would hit it.

“Who's trying to tell us something?” Frank asked as they got into the van.

“It could have been Ray's friends,” Joe suggested as Frank drove cautiously down the road.

“They could have broken our window,” Frank conceded. “And they have plenty of reason to be angry at Tuttle.”

“And they could have staged that last robbery to get Ray out of jail,” Joe added.

“True enough. But none of them live around here,” Frank said. “So, how do they get here?”

“You mean without driving by the Kwans'?” Joe asked.

“Right. I'm thinking it's someone right here at
the lake. How else would they have known to call and threaten Hank if they hadn't seen us with him?” Frank said.

Joe thought for a moment. “I didn't like that Lang guy,” he said. “He seemed to have an attitude.”

“I agree,” Frank said. “But then we didn't make much of a first impression ourselves.”

“No, I suppose not,” Joe said.

“And he found out we were looking into the robberies only tonight,” Frank said.

“So he's not the one who broke our window,” Joe said.

“And he wouldn't have a reason to burn down Tuttle's shed,” Frank said.

“Unless he's another dissatisfied customer of Tuttle's Bait Shop. You know their motto—Service with a Vengeance,” Joe said.

Frank laughed. “Another possibility.”

“Ernie and his grandsons wouldn't have to get here by car,” Joe said. “And they know the area pretty well.”

“So they burned the shed to throw us off?” Frank asked.

“It's kind of suspicious that they cleared out all the valuable stuff the day before the fire,” Joe said. “And they'd have seen us with Hank, too.”

“Maybe we should swing by Hank's and make sure he's all right,” Frank said as they reached the main road.

“Do you think he's in danger?” Joe asked.

“We nearly caught a falling tree, didn't we?” Frank said.

He pulled the van onto the main road and quickly turned it toward Hank's junkyard. They reached Hank's in minutes.

Floodlights came on as they pulled into the driveway. When Frank stopped the engine, they heard Hank's dog barking like crazy. A moment later Hank came out. He looked exhausted and was wearing a parka over his pajamas.

“Hey, Hank, everything all right around here?” Joe called out to him.

“Joe Hardy, is that you?” Hank asked. Hank's breath was visible in the cold night air.

“Yeah, and Frank, too. We went out by the lake and someone threw a tree at us. We thought we'd better stop by and see if you were okay. Especially since you got that phone call.”

Hank came over to the van. Frank had never seen Hank without his red hat. His bald head looked almost soft with so many wrinkles.

“It's been noisy out here tonight. Red's going nuts,” Hank said, pointing to his dog, who was now running around the wrecked hulks of cars stacked along the fence.

“What do you think he's so excited about?” Frank asked.

“Oh, it's just deer or raccoons or something,” Hank said.

“Do you mind if we take a look around?” Frank asked.

“I'll join you,” Hank said. “It's not like I'm
getting any sleep with that dog barking his head off.”

Frank and Joe got out of the van, each carrying a flashlight. Hank went back to his trailer and got another flashlight and then turned off the lights flooding the junkyard.

“I probably seared 'em away with the lights and the dog,” Hank said as the three of them quietly walked down the rows of cars. Now that Hank was on the prowl, Red stopped barking and followed closely behind.

“So you didn't come outside when Red was barking?” Frank asked.

“No, I figured it was either nothing or Red was scaring them away, so I didn't bother,” Hank said.

They walked through the junkyard with their flashlights off.

“What did you mean someone threw a tree at you?” Hank asked.

Joe explained about the chain saw and the tree falling across the road.

“Sounds like someone's trying to tell you something,” Hank said.

“That's what we thought,” Frank said. “It occurred to us that it might be someone coming through the woods.”

“You mean past my place?” Hank asked.

“That's one possibility,” Joe said.

“Shh,” Frank said as he crouched low. “Hear that?”

“What is it?” Joe whispered.

They listened to the biting chill of the wind and
then heard a light shuffling sound from the other side of the fence.

“Probably a raccoon,” Hank whispered.