The Rocky Road to Revenge Read online

  “Then the next night you sneaked onto the grounds at Silver Crest and loosened a cable,” Frank said.

  Very quietly, Joe took a single step.

  “That was just to create a little alien atmosphere,” Robinson said boastfully. “Stella knew I was there. I could tell from her bark.”

  Frank remembered Stella barking out the window that night. “Too bad she can’t speak English,” Frank said.

  “Yes, it is,” Robinson agreed. “Anyway, after that I showed up at the Sykes house. I had rented a car by now in Parnassa under a fake name. Sykes was plenty surprised to see me, but then he realized I had probably come to give him his first payoff. Instead I tied him like a hog and took him out the window with me. I figured that would be a more alienlike way of making an exit.”

  Sykes grunted with disgust.

  “But you still needed one more abduction,” Frank said.

  “That’s right,” Robinson agreed. “To make the alien story really stick. I set up alongside the road with a big light taken from my construction site and a syringe filled with a substance used for knocking out cattle. I was planning to take the first person who came by, and it just happened to be you boys. After blinding you with the light, I just reached in the window and gave you each a few milligrams from the syringe, and down you both went. Then I threw Joe over my shoulder fireman-style and carried him to that cow pasture.”

  Robinson was so carried away with his boasting that he hadn’t noticed that Joe was now only several feet away.

  “You figured it would make perfect sense for the aliens to return you and Joe but keep Sykes,” Frank said.

  “You got it,” Robinson replied.

  “But how could you be so sure the cops would buy the abduction theory?” Frank asked.

  Robinson let out a laugh. “Because I did the whole thing so beautifully. And because they’re not the brightest law enforcement officials in the world. There’s just one thing that went wrong.”

  “What’s that?” Frank asked.

  Robinson’s voice turned somber. “I have to kill three people now instead of one.”

  Joe lunged through the darkness and grabbed Robinson around the neck. He felt an elbow shoot into his gut, but he didn’t let go.

  “We’re right here!” Joe called to Frank as he tried to wrestle Robinson down. But the man was even stronger than Joe expected. Robinson’s elbow shot out again, this time knocking the wind from Joe.

  “What’s going on?” Sykes called out.

  Joe fell to the ground, gasping for air, but Frank was right there, grabbing on to Robinson’s right arm and twisting it behind the man’s back. Robinson cried out in pain.

  Then Robinson threw his body backward and sent Frank crashing into one of the timber beams. Frank’s head rang as it hit the wood. Then Robinson pulled himself free.

  Frank grabbed his head and tried to focus. He heard Joe getting up from the ground, and he heard Robinson running and then climbing up something. Frank ran for his flashlight and switched it on.

  “I’m right here!” Robinson shouted.

  Frank aimed the beam at Robinson. He was standing on a second level about fifteen feet high. There was a wooden ladder there, and Robinson was now in the act of pulling the ladder to his level. Frank had not seen this level or the ladder before.

  “There’s another opening just a few yards from where I stand,” Robinson said, panting from the scuffle. “You won’t be able to get to it, though. Nor will you get out the way you came in. At least not before this place turns into a live volcano.”

  Robinson pulled out his lighter, its gold case glinting in the beam of the flashlight. Robinson opened the case.

  “Don’t!” Joe yelled.

  Robinson flicked the wheel. A flame leapt up.

  “Please! No!” Sykes screamed in terror.

  “The place will take a minute or so to ignite,” Robinson said calmly, moving to a support beam. “I’m going to set this old timber on fire, then beat it before the big bang comes. I want you to know, I don’t relish doing this, but it’s my only way out.”

  Robinson held the flame to the wood.

  Frank took a breath, telling himself not to panic. “You may be a thief, Mr. Robinson,” he called up, “but you’re not a killer.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Robinson said, watching the flame lick against the wood.

  “Why didn’t you kill Sykes as soon as you captured him?” Frank said, his voice showing just a touch of the fear he was feeling. “Why did you bring him here and keep him alive for over twenty-four hours? Because deep in your heart, you don’t want to kill anyone.”

  Robinson turned to Frank as he kept the flame on the timber. There was a combination of fear and determination in his voice. “Remember what I told you boys the other night? I said once you’ve got it into your head to do something, you stick to your guns. Well, the three of you have gotten in the way of my plans, so, by golly, you’ve got to be destroyed.”

  The flame had caught the timber on fire.

  Just then footsteps were heard entering the room, and Frank swung the flashlight around to find Stella standing nearby. The dog moved her head around as she sniffed the air. Then she picked up her master’s scent and looked up at the second level.

  She let out two barks as if to say, “Come on, let’s get out of here on the double!”

  Frank aimed the flashlight back at Robinson. There was anguish on the man’s face as he looked down at his beloved dog. “Oh, Stella,” he said softly, “you shouldn’t have come here.”

  The flame was spreading on the timber beam. Joe held his breath as he watched, expecting an explosion any second. But he was also remembering what Terry had said about how Stella may have been the only thing Robinson really cared about.

  Robinson slammed his hand against the beam, putting out the fire with it.

  • • •

  “Sixteen to fifteen,” Joe told Frank. “I am finally winning a game.”

  The Hardys were playing another game of horseshoes as Terry and Stella sat nearby watching. It was way past midnight, but everyone was too keyed up to think about sleep.

  Robinson had been unable to blow up the mine with Stella present, and there was no way he could have gotten Stella out without the Hardys getting him first. To Robinson’s credit, he had finally given up. Then Joe had run back to Jagowitz’s house to call the police. Soon after, the police had taken Clay Robinson away in handcuffs. Robinson was now in the single cell at the Coalville police station, and Alastair Sykes was safely back at his house.

  Joe sent a horseshoe sailing through the air, and it fell around the ring with a loud clang. “Ringer!” he cried triumphantly. “I win!”

  “Congratulations,” Frank said with a smile.

  “Shh,” Terry whispered. “It’s late.”

  After collecting the horseshoes, Frank and Joe sat beside Terry and Stella. Everyone else at Silver Crest had turned in, and the night was peacefully quiet. Stella had no way of knowing where her master was, but all the same, Joe thought she looked truly sad.

  Terry stroked the dog reassuringly. “You know, I thought of taking Stella back to Bayport with me when the summer ends. But I think she would miss the mountains too much. I’m sure one of the year-round employees here will be happy to have her.”

  “Anybody would be happy to have this dog,” Joe said. “She’s as true as they come.”

  “Unlike Mr. Robinson,” Terry said. “I thought he was an okay guy, but was I wrong. Just goes to show, you can never be too sure about some people.”

  Frank looked in the direction of Robinson’s construction site. “Well,” he said, “I guess the Golden Dream won’t be built after all.”

  “Maybe it’s for the best,” Terry said, lying on the ground and looking up at the stars. “Maybe this land wasn’t meant to be overrun by tourists and out-of-towners.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Joe remarked.

  “Why not?” Frank asked.
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br />   Joe glanced up at the glittering stars. “There’s still not a single good explanation for that orange phenomenon. Think what you want, but I’ve got a feeling that was a flight from really far out of town!”

  “I wonder if they’re good at horseshoes,” Frank added, then ducked a punch from his younger brother.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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  Copyright © 1998 by Simon & Schuster Inc.

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  ISBN: 0-671-02172-9

  ISBN: 978-1-44249-844-0 (eBook)

  First printing August 1998

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