Daredevils Read online

  Knowing that arguing would do no good, Laura threw up her hands in frustrated defeat. “You’d better be more careful than you’ve ever been,” she said to her son.

  “I want to finish what I started today,” Frank said. “Tracking down the truck from the other night.”

  “And Brian and I will be at the competition to help Joe watch Terrence’s back,” Mr. Hardy said. “Later I might want to ferret out leads around Mad Alliance Studios.”

  “Great, then that’s settled,” Joe said.

  “Hey, you’re forgetting about me,” Mrs. Hardy stated.

  “What do you mean?” Mr. Hardy asked his wife.

  “Yeah,” Joe said, “what do you plan to do?”

  “I’m going to try to make a new friend during the competition.” Laura Hardy smiled. “Pam Sydney. From what you’ve told me, she has a crush on Terrence and plenty of cash to make things happen. A woman who’s been rejected, especially a rich one, can make a terrible enemy.”

  “We’ll make a detective out of you yet, Mom,” Frank said.

  “Make me one?” Laura responded with a laugh. “Who do you think cracks all of your dad’s tough cases?”

  • • •

  The next morning, after hours with the police, explaining to them that the M-80 was a prank, and with a carpenter who threw up some plywood to cover the blown-out window, everyone except Frank met at the site of Daredevil Fest’s first event. Frank had taken one of the rental cars to the local library to use the computers to track down the truck that tried to run them off the road on the Thursday of the Flame Broiled media party. The competition’s first event was skydiving. Terrence had used his influence with the competition supervisors to get Joe added as a last-minute entry.

  Joe and Terrence were already dressed when the rest of the gang came to wish them luck. After all the “Be careful” ’s and “Go get ’em” ’s, the parents went to find seats in the grandstands.

  “We’d better go pack our parachutes,” Terrence said. The seasoned stuntman led Joe toward the long table where several other competitors were working the silk chutes into the packs.

  “Big T,” one competitor said, extending a friendly hand. The rugged-looking young man had a blond Mohawk. “Ready to soar?”

  “You bet, Caleb,” Terrence responded, clasping hands with his exuberant competitor.

  “Who’s the kid?” Caleb asked, indicating Joe.

  “Joe Hardy,” Terrence said.

  Caleb offered a hand to Joe. “A little wet behind the ears,” he said. “You a rookie?”

  “Oh, I have some experience doing stunts,” Joe replied. “I just don’t get paid to do them.”

  Caleb laughed. “Rock on, Little Joe.” Caleb picked up his packed parachute and headed off toward the competitors’ trailer.

  “Friend of yours?” Joe asked Terrence.

  “If you’re asking as a detective, I give Caleb a zero on the suspect-meter. He’s a joker with a heart of gold.”

  “Could just be a cover,” Joe said. “I’ve come to learn that just about anybody, friend or foe, can have a motive to do another person harm. It’s an unfortunate fact of life.”

  “Maybe,” Terrence said. “But I’ll cling a little longer to my instincts. Caleb’s a good guy.”

  “Humor me,” Joe said. “Fill me in on his background.”

  “Not much there,” Terrence replied. “His father’s a pastor at a local church. Let’s see, he has an older brother named Severin who’s a pretty good athlete from what I hear.”

  “Any rivalry there?” Joe asked. “You know, something that would maybe make Caleb want to make a bigger name for himself by becoming the number one stuntman?”

  “I’ve known this guy for a while, Joe,” Terrence answered. “When he competes, it’s for fun only. He wins, he loses. It doesn’t faze him. He’s just a bass guitar–playing, loud-talking, fun-loving stuntman.”

  “Ever compete for jobs against him?” Joe asked.

  “Not really,” Terrence said after a moment’s thought. “He does a lot of key stunt work on small-budget films, stuff I don’t usually touch.”

  “Being number one and all,” Joe laughed.

  “Yeah.” Terrence smiled. “Being number one and all. And Caleb’s a good number two or three man on big films. In fact, we worked together on Flame Broiled.”

  “You really giving him a zero on the suspect-meter?”

  “Yeah, Joe,” Terrence said seriously. “An absolute zero.”

  Just then a short, balding man with a round face and wide eyes came trotting up to the table.

  “Terrence, Terrence,” he said, stepping between Joe and the stuntman, “I can’t believe you’re going through with this.”

  “What do you mean ‘going through with this’?” Joe asked abruptly. If Caleb wasn’t supposed to set off Joe’s suspect instincts, this older man certainly was ringing the bell.

  The man ignored Joe.

  “I heard about yesterday,” the man said to Terrence. “The explosion. I know it landed you in Gerlinsky General.”

  “I’m fine, Mr. Silver,” Terrence said. “Thank you for your concern.”

  “Forget my concern,” Mr. Silver said. “But how about my offer? Come on, give up this behind-the-scenes, stuntman anonymity junk. Step out in front of the camera. It pays better, and it’s safer.”

  “Terrence,” Joe said. “Mind introducing me to your friend?”

  Mr. Silver glanced sideways at Joe, annoyed by his interruption. However, Terrence followed Joe’s lead, sensing that he wanted to question the man.

  “Joe Hardy, meet Mr. Phil Silver, head of Silver Lining Productions. Mr. Silver, Joe’s a friend of mine from the East Coast. Perhaps you might want to take a look at him if you’re hoping to build up your talent pool.”

  “Oh, are you an agent?” Joe asked.

  “Agent?” Silver seemed shocked. “Most certainly not. I’m putting together a new studio, and I need young talent with long-term potential,” Silver explained.

  The studio executive took a moment to stare at Joe. Joe felt as if he were being sized up.

  “I like what I see, young man,” Silver said. “Your good looks, obvious charm, athleticism, and your friendship with Terrence—I could use someone like you.

  “As I’ve already offered to Terrence,” Silver continued with a new smile, “I’m willing to sign a four-picture leading-man deal with him so he can give up stunt work for good. And I’m sure something can be worked out for the person who helps me convince Terrence to take the offer.”

  “A four-picture deal? I thought the days of studios signing actors to multimovie contracts went out in the fifties.”

  “They did,” Silver explained. “But in Hollywood, everything old is new again. I’m looking to establish Silver Lining as a studio with longevity, not just some fly-by-night operation. To do that, I’m going to use a name-brand approach. You know, build a stable of talent that financial backers and movie patrons alike can have confidence in.”

  Silver turned his attention back to Terrence. “And I’m willing to make you one of my cornerstones,” he said.

  “Oh, no, you don’t!” shouted a voice with a familiar Australian accent. Pam Sydney stormed up to the gathering at the parachute-packing table. “I want you to take twenty paces away from my man. He still has a picture to finish for Mad Alliance.”

  “He is not your personal property,” Silver responded. “He can make your little movie the last time he has to be a nameless stuntman. I’ll make him a star.”

  “Wow, such attention over a stuntman,” Joe quipped.

  “What can I say?” Terrence laughed. “Good looks and strong muscles are in these days.”

  “Oh, in that case,” Antonio Lawrence said as he joined the group, “then they should be fighting over me.”

  Joe rolled his eyes.

  “I was wondering where you were,” Terrence said. “I was thinking you’d decided not to show.”

  “In your dreams, ex-
champ,” Antonio said. “While you were jawing, I was strapping on my chute and posing for the cameras.”

  Antonio leaned in between Silver and Sydney. “You two should start bidding on me instead of yesterday’s news.”

  Just then the verbal jabbing was interrupted by a voice booming over a loudspeaker.

  “All right,” the voice said, “we’re ready to begin the Aerial Acrobatics Competition. The first three contestants will be Antonio Lawrence, Joe Hardy, and Terrence McCauley. Please report immediately to the airplane.”

  “But we haven’t strapped on our chutes,” Joe said.

  “I guess you forfeit already,” Antonio said with a laugh. The cocky stuntman turned and headed for the small prop plane that was revving its engines a dozen yards away.

  “No way,” Terrence said as he grabbed his parachute pack. “We’ll strap in while we’re climbing to the jump-point.”

  Terrence began to jog to the plane. “Come on, Joe,” he shouted over his shoulder.

  Joe grabbed his parachute and followed Terrence. He saw Antonio climb into the plane. Then Terrence handed his parachute pack to a tall, thin man inside the plane, and he, too, climbed aboard.

  Joe held up his chute, thinking that somebody would grab it as Terrence’s had been. However, no one reached down to take the pack. Frustrated, Joe held the pack in his left hand and reached up to the airplane’s entryway with his right. He began to pull himself into the aircraft but slipped. The skydiving gear he wore was very slick, and he could not gain any leverage.

  Joe tried again, and this time somebody gripped him around his arm. The grip was strong but felt weird. Joe couldn’t figure out why, but he did note that the hand holding him applied a strange sort of pressure. As Joe was pulled into the airplane, he looked at the person who had aided him. It was the same thin man who had grabbed Terrence’s pack. The man wore a helmet, headset microphone, and sunglasses. Joe couldn’t make out his face, but he could see that the guy was the pilot.

  Joe put his parachute pack down. He turned to help Terrence put on his pack, but he saw that it was already on. Joe gave the stuntman a quizzical look, but he couldn’t question him over the drone of the plane’s twin engines. He assumed that either the pilot or Antonio had helped Terrence into his pack.

  Joe picked up his chute and handed it to Terrence, who helped him get strapped in and ready to skydive.

  After the three competitors took their seats, the pilot throttled up the airplane and taxied down the runway. Ten minutes later the man signaled that they were at the jump-point. All three competitors lined up at the doorway.

  Antonio was the first to jump. His wildly colored green, purple, yellow, and red outfit billowed around him as he tumbled into his first set of aerial maneuvers.

  Joe was the second to exit the airplane. As soon as he cleared the wing, he twisted and turned, using aerodynamic changes in his posture to execute a variety of acrobatics. Out of the corner of his eye, he observed Antonio, still flipping and flopping like a falling peacock.

  6 Terrence Drops a Load

  * * *

  Joe twisted his body to get a look at Terrence, who had just jumped. Terrence was in trouble. His chute was gone—the whole chute. He was holding out the silk of his skydiving outfit to add a bit of resistance, but it wouldn’t be enough to keep him from reaching terminal velocity and being crushed on the ground below.

  I need to time this just right to save him, Joe thought. And me without a calculator.

  He turned his back to his falling friend and faced the ground. He gripped his ripcord and pulled. A colorful flow of silk billowed out from his pack, catching the wind and slowing Joe’s descent. When the parachute was fully deployed, Joe’s downward momentum was momentarily reversed. The shift in velocity brought him close to Terrence.

  “Need a lift?” Joe joked, even though he knew his friend could not hear him.

  Joe grabbed Terrence around the waist, and the stuntman wrapped his arms around Joe’s chest. The two gave each other weak smiles.

  Terrence cocked his head to the side and pointed, indicating a bull’s-eye target painted on the field of grass below them.

  Might as well land with flair, Joe mused. He worked the cords of the parachute, mindful to compensate for the extra weight he was carrying. Several minutes later, Joe put both himself and his package down in the center of the bull’s-eye.

  Their parents met them at the drop zone.

  “What happened up there?” Laura Hardy shouted as Brian McCauley began to help Joe out of his chute pack.

  Terrence removed his helmet. “As soon as I went into my first tumble, my pack just tore away from my body.” Terrence hugged his father, and then he tried to hug Joe but couldn’t, because Laura Hardy was there before him.

  “Thanks for the save, man.”

  “That’s what I’m here for, T.”

  “Was the pack buckled properly?” Mr. Hardy asked.

  “Snapped it on myself,” Terrence replied.

  “Could it have had a faulty strap?” Joe asked.

  “Or a cut one,” Brian McCauley offered.

  “I’d like to take a look at the pack,” Mr. Hardy said.

  “Good luck finding it,” Joe stated flatly. “It could have fallen just about anywhere.”

  “Well, as far as I’m concerned, this competition is over for you, son,” Brian McCauley said.

  “Not by a long shot,” Terrence said, refusing his dad’s advice. “It was bad luck, that’s all.”

  “I’m serious,” Brian said.

  “So am I, Dad. I’m finishing what I started.”

  Before the senior McCauley could argue further, Antonio Lawrence came strutting up.

  “Didn’t you boys know this was a singles competition?” he joked. “What’s the matter, Terrence? Can’t ‘air dance’ on your own?”

  “Shut up,” Terrence spat at Antonio. “I lost my parachute. While you were air dancing, Joe was busy being a hero.”

  “Oh,” Antonio mocked, “a hero. Hey, you can blame your equipment if you want. It’ll give you something to cry about when I run away with the prize.”

  Terrence lost his cool and lunged at Antonio. Mr. Hardy and Brian grabbed him before he could attack his rival.

  Joe stepped between Antonio and Terrence. “Listen, wise guy,” he said. “This is far from over. And before it’s done, the only prize you’ll walk away with is egg on your face, if not a whole mess of trouble on the side.”

  Antonio stared at Joe. Then he cracked a wide smile. “Whatever you say, little hero,” he said, and turned to walk away.

  • • •

  Daredevil Fest was delayed for an hour while the competition’s organizers discussed the skydiving “accident.” At Terrence’s insistence, however, and with no evidence that the problem with the parachute pack was anything more than faulty equipment, Daredevil Fest resumed.

  The other competitors prepared for the skydiving competition, while Joe and Terrence ate a light brunch. The two competitors were joined by Frank. Fenton and Laura Hardy and Brian McCauley decided to go watch the remaining skydivers.

  “I hope you had better luck than we did,” Joe said to his brother.

  “Compared to you,” Frank replied, “I had the easy job.”

  “So what did you find out?” Terrence asked.

  “I hacked into the Department of Motor Vehicles’ database. The license plate number for the truck that almost sent us over the cliff is registered to a company—Silver Lining Productions. Ring any bells?”

  “Bells?” Joe said excitedly. “It sets off a whole fireworks display.”

  “How so?” Frank asked.

  “I had a little run-in with Phil Silver, owner of Silver Lining Productions,” Joe said. “He had ‘suspect’ written all over him.”

  Joe went on to explain his earlier encounter with the slick businessman.

  “So he left you with the impression that he could be trying to harm Terrence?” Frank asked.

 
“I don’t think he’d want to kill me,” Terrence said.

  “Maybe not kill you,” Joe said. “But he might be trying to put a scare into you so you’ll leave stunt work and sign with him.”

  “Well, I’d say his scares are pretty risky,” Frank said. “An M-80 at home and a bomb in a trailer are definitely enough to kill Terrence and a whole crowd.”

  “He might have an if-I-can’t-have-him-nobody-will attitude,” Joe offered.

  “Could be,” Frank conceded. “Although it’s a little sick. In any case, he definitely bears a closer look, and I’m going to head over to his offices now.”

  “Great,” Joe said.

  “Yeah,” Terrence agreed. “Joe and I have to get to our next event.”

  • • •

  The next event was a hang glider race. Joe and Terrence rode in a van with Caleb and a couple of the event coordinators up to Aceto-Zimmer Bluff, where the race would begin.

  “The bluff is an awesome place for a race,” Caleb said. “Have you ever glided there, T?”

  “Yeah, I filmed a stunt for the movie Rhonda and Roseanne there.”

  “You did the car-off-the-cliff stunt?” Joe asked. “I loved that movie. Hey, that was a Michael Shannon flick, right?”

  “Yeah,” Terrence said. “When he was younger.”

  “And could act at least a little,” Caleb added.

  The three young men laughed. Joe was getting to like Caleb.

  “So fill me in on Aceto-Zimmer Bluff,” Joe said.

  Caleb unfolded a detailed map of the area. He showed Joe the high oceanside cliff that would mark the start of the race. He traced his finger along the route.

  “There are pylons along the beach,” Caleb said, “that anchor helium balloons. Those are your markers. You need to fly around the first two markers and then make a sharp turn toward this cove.”

  “Be careful at the cove,” Terrence warned. “The updrafts there are treacherous.”

  “Believe it, Little Joe,” Caleb added. “You’ll dive through the cove and fly under a rock outcropping that sort of looks like a bridge. Hit that spot with too much air under your wings and you’ll be cliff-pizza on the huge rocks below.”