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  "I saw that on the news. They use it to help find runaways or kids who have been kidnapped." They rode on in silence a few minutes. Then Joe finally asked, "So, how old do you think Bobby Mock is now?"

  "Leonard Mock's only a couple years older than Dad." Frank stared at the photo. "And judging by Bobby's shirt, I'd say he's somewhere between fifteen and twenty."

  "That's quite a spread."

  "It's the best we have so far."

  "How long will this take?"

  "An hour, two at the most."

  "I'm going to the hospital," Joe announced. He steered the van into the oval drive of Bayport Electronics. "Bobby may get wind that his old man's there and try to visit him."

  "I'll meet you there after the photo is done."

  Joe waited until Frank entered the BE building and then drove away. He didn't really like the idea of splitting up, especially now that Mock's son had made his first move, but time was a luxury the Hardys could not afford.

  ***

  "I'm sorry, Joe," said Officer Bill Murphy, "but Chief Collig will bust me back down to traffic control if I let you in there."

  Joe and Officer Murphy stood at the nurses' station only a few yards away from the intensive care unit where Leonard Mock was clinging to life with the help of a life-support machine.

  "I only want to talk to him," Joe pleaded.

  "Nope." The young cop was unmoved. "The suspect is unconscious anyway. The doctors say he may not even make it through the night."

  "Okay," Joe said. "But you can't keep me from waiting."

  "No, I can't," Officer Murphy said, his thumbs tucked into his gun belt. "But I can tell you where to wait." He pointed behind Joe. "In the lobby."

  "Humph!" Joe shook his head and headed back to the fifth-floor lobby. He was afraid that if he caused any trouble, Officer Murphy would have him escorted from the hospital.

  Joe thrust his hands into his pockets and walked slowly toward the lobby. He glanced over his shoulder. Officer Murphy was leaning against the nurses' station, talking to a young blond nurse. An idea flashed through Joe's mind: If Murphy could be distracted long enough, Joe could sneak into Mock's room.

  Joe ducked into a closet. Green surgical shirts and pants, gloves, masks, and hair covers lined the shelves. Joe quickly put the hospital garb on over his clothes, finally covering his face with a surgical mask.

  He opened the closet door and glanced down the corridor. Officer Murphy was still engaged in a lively conversation with the pretty blond nurse. Joe stepped into the hallway and walked casually toward the nurses' station.

  He grabbed a clipboard from a nearby desk and pretended to be looking at it while he passed Officer Murphy and the nurse.

  He held his breath as he neared the door to ICU. He glanced back quickly and saw that neither Officer Murphy nor the nurse had even given him a glance. He pushed the door open and entered the intensive care ward.

  The ICU ward was a long hallway with several doors leading off it into individual rooms. Joe checked the names on the doors until he found the one marked "Leonard Mock."

  He glanced back down the hallway, took a deep breath, and quietly opened the door.

  The room was full of shadows produced by the blinking lights of the life-support equipment. A steady, persistent hum flowed from the machinery. Mock's wheezing breaths sent a chill through Joe. He shuddered and walked quietly over to the bed.

  Leonard Mock looked worse than he had at the rehab center. His skin was stretched even tighter against his skull, and his lips were drawn back to reveal large, yellow teeth in a death's head smile. Even though Mock's eyelids were closed over his large, bulging eyes, Joe got the feeling that Leonard Mock was watching his every move. The life-support equipment hummed and beeped, keeping track of the last hours of Leonard Mock.

  Joe suddenly thought he should leave and was about to go out into the hall when he heard footsteps moving toward him. He dashed into the bathroom and closed the door, leaving a slit through which he could see the entire room.

  The door to the room opened, and Joe watched as a man walked over to Mock's bed and stood for several moments without saying a thing. The man was silhouetted against the lights of the machine, his black outline revealing a dark raincoat.

  "Father," the man said, his voice low. He leaned over the bed.

  Bobby Mock! Joe took a deep breath.

  "The sons - Frank and Joe - are dead! Their friends are next. And when Hardy returns, he'll be dead, too."

  Joe stepped from the bathroom. "Over my dead body," he said.

  The man swung around. Through the eyeholes of the black ski mask, Joe could see the confused, questioning eyes of Bobby Mock but nothing else.

  The man reached inside his raincoat. The gun! Joe thought.

  Joe leapt at the man and threw a hard right punch to his left cheek. Then he shoved him against the wall. Joe grabbed the man's hand and held it inside the raincoat. Joe could feel the hard steel outline of the .357 magnum.

  Bobby Mock backhanded Joe, knocking him against a life-support machine. A staccato buzzing filled the air. Leonard Mock twitched on his death bed.

  Bobby Mock pulled the .357 automatic from beneath his raincoat and pointed it at Joe.

  Joe kicked out and got Mock's hand with his toe. The gun flew across the room and hit the floor, exploding as it landed.

  Joe lunged at Mock and caught him in the sternum with his shoulder. Pain exploded in Joe's shoulder, and he bounced off Mock. As Joe reached for his shoulder, Mock planted a crushing right on Joe's jaw. Joe staggered backward.

  The room swam as Joe tried to regain his senses. He was dazed and breathless. Mock ran for his gun.

  The door to the room burst open, and Officer Murphy flew into the room. "What's going on in here?" he shouted.

  Joe turned. He was distracted just long enough for Mock to grab his gun. Mock spun around, striking Joe across the cheek with an upward swing.

  Joe crumpled to the floor.

  Chapter 6

  "If you DON'T get out of my hair and out of my office right now, I'm going to call security and have you thrown out!" yelled a haggard Bruce Smith.

  What hair? Frank asked himself as he watched the overhead light bounce off the older man's bald head.

  For the past fifteen minutes Frank had been arguing with Smith, trying to convince the president of BE to let him use a computer terminal and the photo aging program.

  "I can be in and out of the program in an hour," Frank repeated for the umpteenth time.

  "No! I don't have the time or the space for one of your hare-brained schemes, Hardy. The tornado caused our mainframe to dump just about every program we had, and we've got to get our systems back up or lose our government contracts." Smith rubbed his shiny scalp. With clenched teeth he said, "Now, get out of my office and out of BE."

  Frank threw his hands up and left. A dead end. He'd have to think of another way to try to identify Mock's son. Perhaps a police artist could help. That would mean asking Chief Collig, and Frank knew the answer already.

  He pulled the photo from his pocket and looked at the back. If only the date weren't smudged, then he could be more sure of Bobby Mock's age.

  "Hey, Frank!" someone called out just before Frank reached the front glass doors of BE.

  Frank turned and saw David Simpson walking up to him. David was vice president of BE and had been out to Bayport High's computer club several times to teach new programing techniques. He had always been impressed with Frank's expertise.

  "Hi, David. I hear your computers crunched all your programs."

  "Not all, thank goodness, but enough to make me wish I was driving a truck for a living." David pointed at Frank's bandage. "Looks like that tornado just about wiped out your programming, too."

  "Yeah, I guess."

  "Say, if you're looking for a part-time job, we need temporary programmers until we're completely back on line."

  The thought struck Frank, and he almost said yes. What better way
to get access to the computer program he needed. Then again, he would probably be assigned to punch in some boring government documentation. That could take hours - time he didn't have to spare.

  "Sorry," Frank said with a shrug.

  "Well, let me know if you need anything." David turned to leave.

  "Wait, there is something." Frank looked at the photo in his hand. "I need to identify this kid."

  David took the photo and looked at it. "Working on a case?"

  "Yes. Missing person. It's important that I find him as soon as possible."

  David looked at the photo again and then at Frank. "The problem is that I won't be able to get to you right away. I had to steal the break I'm on now."

  "I understand, but this is a matter of life or death. I've already talked to Mr. Smith, and he - "

  "Said no," David interrupted with a knowing smile.

  "Right."

  "Tell you what. Have you got a modem for your home computer?"

  "Only the best," Frank replied, aware of what David was going to say next.

  "I'll get to this as soon as I can and send the results via the modem. Let me make a laser print of this for our computer." David was gone and back in a matter of minutes. "Here." He handed the small school photo back to Frank.

  "Can you tell me about when I might expect it?" Frank didn't want to sound too anxious, but the sooner they knew who Bobby Mock was, the sooner they could have him in jail.

  "Sorry, Frank," David replied with a shake of his head.

  "Thanks. I'll wait at home."

  "Take it easy, Frank. Say hello to your dad for me."

  "I'll be sure to do that."

  Frank left the Bayport Electronics building. He hoped that Joe had had better luck at the hospital. He flagged down a taxi and headed to Bayport General. He was tired. He sat back in the seat and had to force himself to stay awake. First the freak tornado had nearly torn apart Bayport, and now a killer was out to murder the Hardys. It had not been a good day.

  ***

  "Ouch!" Joe moaned as the doctor made sure Joe's shoulder wasn't dislocated. He was sitting on a bench in the emergency room, Chief Collig and Officer Riley hovering over him like angry parents.

  "Serves you right for interfering with the police," Chief Collig growled. "I ought to throw the book at you."

  "If I hadn't walked in when I did, you'd never have known that Mock's son was in the hospital," Joe said.

  "He's right, Chief," Officer Riley said in Joe's defense.

  Chief Collig scowled at Officer Riley.

  "I want Officer Murphy in my office tomorrow morning," Chief Collig ordered.

  "Where is Officer Murphy?" Joe asked.

  "Stationed in front of Mock's door, where he should have been in the first place," Officer Riley replied. "He's got a nasty bruise on his chin where Mock's son slugged him with that magnum, but he'll survive."

  "Not when I'm through chewing him out," Chief Collig added.

  "There," the doctor said. "You'll be okay, but you're sure you didn't run into the wall and not his chest?"

  Joe looked into the young doctor's eyes. "I know the difference between a wall and some guy's chest." He turned to Officer Riley. "I'm telling you his chest was like steel."

  "Joe!" Frank shouted as he entered the room.

  "Please, don't shout," Joe said as he squeezed his eyelids shut.

  "Good. You're both here." Chief Collig began buttoning up his raincoat. "I'm going to tell you two for the last time to keep your noses out of police business. Officer Riley, if you see these two working on this case, I want you to hold them until their parents return from Philadelphia."

  "Yes, sir," Officer Riley said.

  Frank bristled at Chief Collig's order. "On what charge?"

  "No charge," Chief Collig said as he put his hat on and buttoned up his raincoat. He smiled. "Protective custody." Then he stormed out.

  Frank and Joe turned to Officer Riley.

  Riley shrugged. "Sorry, boys. You heard the chief."

  Joe was ready to tell Frank what had happened when a rapid, high-pitched beeping sounded in the hospital corridor.

  Frank, Joe, and Officer Riley ran out into the hallway and followed the nurses to Mock's ICU room.

  "What happened?" Officer Riley quickly asked Murphy.

  "I - I - I don't know," the young officer stammered.

  A tall thin doctor was leaning over Leonard Mock. He pulled the sheet over Mock's body and turned to the Hardys.

  The doctor's face was grim, but his voice was matter-of-fact. "He's dead."

  ***

  Frank and Joe returned home to find that electricity had been restored, but the phone lines were still down. Frank contacted the ham radio operator in Hoboken and relayed a message to his father that they were all okay. He didn't mention anything about Leonard or Bobby Mock.

  Frank and Joe said little as they ate and got ready for bed. The one thought that kept crossing their minds was, How would Bobby Mock react to his father's death?

  They decided to set the alarm system to the house after double-checking the windows and doors to make sure they were all locked.

  Before going to sleep, Frank made up his mind to visit BE the first thing in the morning to check up on the aging progress of the kindergarten photo of Bobby Mock. With the phone lines still down, the modem was useless.

  ***

  The next day dawned gray and wet. Frank had risen early to check his father's old files and was chewing on an English muffin when Joe walked into the kitchen.

  "So, what's the plan for the day?" Joe asked as he took a mixing bowl down from a cabinet and grabbed a box of cereal.

  "The phones are still out, so we'll have to go to BE for the photo of Bobby Mock."

  Joe dumped the half-full box of cereal into the bowl and covered the flakes with milk. "Then what?" he asked as he crunched down on the cereal.

  "Then we find Bobby Mock and turn him over to the police."

  Joe reached behind himself for the orange juice sitting on the cabinet. Only a little juice remained in the bottom of the jug so Joe didn't bother to get a glass. He raised the edge to his lips and drank. The cold, tart juice felt good against his dry throat.

  "You know what Aunt Gertrude would say if she saw you doing that?" Frank said with a sly smile.

  "What she doesn't know won't hurt me," Joe quipped back.

  The phone suddenly rang, and both Frank and Joe nearly jumped out of their chairs.

  "I thought you said - " Joe began.

  "Must have gotten fixed sometime in the night," Frank said. He was ready to answer the ringing phone when it suddenly stopped and he heard his computer blip on upstairs. He sat back down.

  "Aren't you going to see who it is?" Joe asked, referring to the image that was printing right then of Bobby Mock.

  "It'll take a few minutes to print." Frank bit down on the last of his muffin and washed it down with a glass of milk. He calmly dusted his hands and then headed for his computer.

  Joe finished off his bowl of cereal and then scoured the cabinets for another box, but there was none. He imagined he knew what Old Mother Hubbard's dog felt like. Maybe, they could stop off at a convenience store and get some cinnamon rolls.

  Joe walked from the kitchen to the living room and swung around the banister to head upstairs. He stopped short when he saw Frank sitting on the stairs.

  "Whoa," Joe said with a smile, but his smile quickly vanished when he saw Frank's face.

  Frank was holding the computer printout in his hands, his face was gray, and his eyes were fixed and staring.

  "What is it?" Joe asked, his voice almost a whisper. Frank didn't answer. He only stared. "Who is it?"

  Frank still didn't answer, but this time he slowly raised his hand to give Joe the color printout of eighteen-year-old Bobby Mock.

  Joe gasped as he recognized the computer picture of their best friend - Chet Morton!

  Chapter 7

  "That's impossible!" Joe sho
uted.

  "I think so, too," Frank said, his voice a whisper. "But that's why we thought he looked so familiar."

  "Someone's trying to set Chet up," Joe said.

  "And make fools of us. Mock had years to plan this."

  "This sounds like something out of a spy novel." Joe sat down on the steps, still staring at the computerized Chet Morton.

  "Before you got up this morning, I went down to the basement and got out Dad's oldest files, the stuff he didn't put on computer. Mock's file was full of letters threatening to kill Dad and destroy our family."

  "How does this fit?"

  "What better way to get even than lead us to believe that our friends are against us? Didn't you say that Bobby Mock promised his father that he would get our friends?"

  "Yeah," Joe replied. "That's why he had those pictures of you, me, Callie, and Chet."

  "Exactly."

  "What now?"

  "First, we find Chet and show him this." He pointed to the printout. "From what Bobby Mock said at the hospital last night, we can assume that Chet's life is in danger."

  Joe stood up and walked back down to the living room. He put the printout on the coffee table and picked up the phone. He tried the Morton home first, but a telephone company tape recording told him that the phone was out of service. That would make sense. Not all the phones in Bayport would be fixed at the same time.

  Frank called Callie to warn her that her life might be in danger. Mr. Shaw told Frank that Callie had gone to the television station. She had tried to call Frank, but their line was busy. Callie must have tried to call while the modem was working.

  Frank tried WBAY. Callie had left with a tall, heavyset blond kid, the assignment editor said. The "heavyset blond kid" was probably Chet Morton. What was Chet doing at the television station? Frank asked himself.

  The assignment editor went on to explain that Callie wanted to get some shots from the top of the old Farmers and Merchants Bank building in the downtown area. It had seen some of the worst damage.