The Ice-cold Case Read online

  “Lost ’em,” Joe said in frustration.

  They stood by the edge of the lake, looking for any sign of movement. Suddenly the silence was broken and a loud crash of shattering glass pierced the night.

  7 Follow the Shadows

  * * *

  “Sounds like it was over there,” Frank said as he pointed toward the large A-frame they had been in earlier that evening.

  “Dixon’s place?” Joe said.

  As they ran toward Dixon’s, Frank saw two shadowy figures in the moonlight skating across the lake. They were dragging a box the size of a footlocker behind them. Frank nudged his brother. “Joe, check this out.”

  Joe saw the two shadows disappear into the gathering of shanties at Tuttle’s end of the lake. “I’ll go after them.”

  “Let’s scope out Dixon’s first,” Frank said. “They could be armed.”

  When Frank and Joe reached Dixon’s, they saw that the huge sliding glass door leading to the deck had been shattered. Joe scrambled up to the deck.

  “Look out for glass; it’s all over the deck,” he said to Frank, who was climbing up after him.

  They stepped through the broken glass and entered the house, where they found the house sitter, Doug Lang, lying facedown on the floor of the living room. His head was bleeding and he was unconscious. Frank got down on his knees and felt Lang’s neck, checking for a pulse.

  “He’s out cold. Looks like someone hit him right across the forehead,” Frank said as he looked at Lang’s wound.

  Joe went to the phone to call the police. He was careful to pick it up by the earpiece so he wouldn’t disturb any fingerprints that might be on the handle. “We just found the house sitter at Dixon’s place. He’s been hurt. Looks like someone hit him with a bat or something.”

  After Joe hung up the phone, he went back to the terrace and looked over the lake while Frank stayed with Lang.

  “We should go after those guys,” Joe said as he looked at the shanties.

  “Let’s wait for the police,” Frank said. “Lang’s bleeding a lot. I don’t want to leave him.”

  While they waited for the police, Joe looked around the house. Other than the shattered window, there didn’t seem to be anything amiss. But until Lang regained consciousness, they couldn’t be sure that nothing was stolen.

  “I’ll call Hank and ask him to bring the van over,” Joe said.

  After he called Hank, Joe began pacing in front of the window like a trapped animal.

  “You realize that every minute we wait, the perpetrator is getting farther away,” Joe said.

  “Joe, we’ll get out there in a few minutes,” Frank said. “By the way, did you notice something funny about the broken window?”

  “You mean that the broken glass is outside?” Joe responded.

  “Yeah, that window was broken by someone leaving the house, not coming in,” Frank said.

  “So they broke in and Lang walked in on them,” Joe said.

  “He probably got hit before he knew what was happening,” Frank suggested.

  Then they heard Hank calling to them from outside. “Hey, Frank? Joe?”

  Joe went to the front door and let Hank in.

  “Whoa, what happened here?” Hank asked.

  “Pretty much what you see. Someone smashed the window and hit Lang,” Joe explained.

  Soon the police arrived with an ambulance. The paramedics took Lang’s vital signs.

  “Is he going to be all right?” Frank asked.

  “Yeah. He’s lucky the wound isn’t deep,” one of the paramedics said as they placed Lang on a stretcher and prepared to take him out to the ambulance.

  Frank and Joe told the police about their evening. After the police took down their statements, Frank and Joe went out toward the lake.

  Officer Riley was looking around the backyard with a flashlight. “We’ve got a set of footprints here.”

  “We saw two guys on the lake,” Joe said.

  “It looks to me like there was only one guy,” Riley said as he pointed to the tracks that led from the house to the road and back. “He must have left the car around here somewhere.”

  “I don’t think they came by car,” Frank said. “We followed someone through the woods from Hank’s place.”

  “How do you explain these footprints?” Riley asked.

  “I’m not sure yet, but I don’t believe for a minute that whoever’s doing all this drove here tonight,” Frank said.

  “Maybe someone wants you to think they’re coming from the road,” Joe suggested. “We would have heard them or seen the car,” Joe said, recalling the quiet darkness that was shattered along with Dixon’s window.

  “Well, I’ve seen enough,” Riley said. “It’s too cold for me out here anyway.” Riley went back inside as Hank came out.

  Joe shined his flashlight on the ground between the back of the house and the lake and saw two parallel ruts in the snow.

  “I’m going to get a ride home from Riley,” Hank called to them.

  “Hank, come here a minute,” Joe said. “Look at this. What are these tracks?”

  “Could be a sled box,” Hank said.

  “A sled box?” Joe asked.

  “Yeah, like the one I have, the tackle box on sled runners,” Hank explained.

  “That’s it, then; it was those two guys,” Joe said.

  “Let’s go have a look,” Frank said.

  But rather than walk out onto the ice, they walked into the woods until they were sure they weren’t visible from the lake. Then they walked parallel to the shore, a hundred yards through the woods, to an outcrop of rock. Crouching low behind the rocks, they had a clear view of the lake.

  “It’s awfully quiet,” Joe whispered as he looked over the lake.

  “Too quiet,” Frank whispered back.

  “Frank,” Joe whispered, “do you have the feeling we’re being watched?”

  “Yeah, pretty much ever since we left Hank’s,” Frank agreed.

  They watched the stillness of the ice for nearly an hour before they saw something moving.

  “Joe, look over there, by the shanties,” Frank whispered.

  “It’s them. They’re on skates,” Joe whispered back.

  “Let’s go,” Frank said.

  “They’ll see us on the ice,” Joe said.

  “Walk slowly. We’ll look less threatening,” Frank said as they made their way across the lake.

  “You think they’ll make a break for it?” Joe asked as they approached the shanty village.

  “I doubt it. They know we’d see which way they go,” Frank said. “Besides, it could be someone perfectly innocent,” he reminded his brother.

  “Could be,” Joe said, though he didn’t think it was likely.

  They hid next to the first shanty they came to.

  “Do you think they saw us coming?” Joe whispered.

  “I’m sure of it,” Frank said.

  They crouched low and crept around the shanty and found themselves at the end of a row of shanties, each about twenty feet away from the next. The shanties were all closed up with no lights on except for one at the far end, closest to the shore, which had a faint white glow coming from the windows. Frank pointed to it.

  Joe took the hint and they made their way, one shanty at a time up the row. Suddenly they saw two shadows by the shanty at the far end.

  “Hello there!” Frank said as he ran toward them.

  Joe held back for a moment to make sure they didn’t both walk into a trap.

  Frank reached the shanty at the head of the row and found the door swinging open. He waved for Joe to stay back while he looked in.

  Joe saw a shadow, but before he could react, he was knocked off his feet by someone in black wielding a steel bar. The bar whacked into Joe’s side, sending him sprawling to the ice. Joe tried to call out, but the pain in his side kept him from breathing. He tried to fight, but he couldn’t get his footing on the slick ice.

  The attacker grabbed his coat and flung him into the shanty with his brother. The door to the shanty slammed shut, and they heard someone attach a padlock to the door. Frank tried to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge.

  Joe lay on the floor of the cabin and tried to catch his breath.

  “Are you all right?” Frank asked.

  “Yeah. I just got the wind knocked out of me,” Joe said finally as he got to his feet.

  “Looks like someone was expecting us,” Frank said.

  “Cozy in here, isn’t it?” Joe said as he tried to open the door.

  “A little too cozy,” Frank said as he tried to open a window. Both the small windows were sealed shut. “We’re trapped.”

  “What about the floor?” Joe asked.

  They reached down to the little trapdoors the fishermen used to lower their lines through. Like the windows, the trapdoors were nailed shut.

  “Looks like we’re here until the fishermen show up in the morning,” Joe said.

  “I don’t think so,” Frank said. “The heater’s on. It’s going to burn up all the oxygen if we don’t shut it off.”

  The gas-fired camp stove was burning with a whitish glow. Frank tried to find a switch to turn it off. “Someone’s broken the switch. I can’t turn it off.”

  “So we suffocate or freeze,” Joe said. “But either way—we’re trapped!”

  8 Squeeze Play

  * * *

  “There must be something we can do,” Frank said, rummaging through the fishing gear.

  “Maybe we can drill our way out,” Joe said as he picked up the sharp corkscrew blade of a power auger. “I’m sure this would cut through the plywood of the shack.”

  “The door’s our best bet,” Frank said as he helped Joe lift the auger.

  They eac
h took one of the auger’s handles. It was designed to be used vertically, so it was difficult to manage on its side.

  The motor started just like a lawn mower, with a sharp yank on a cord. Joe gave the rope a good strong pull. The engine made a coughing sound but didn’t start.

  Joe pulled the cord again, and this time the motor spewed exhaust and kicked in. It was so loud that Frank thought they would go deaf by the time they got the door open.

  Joe tapped Frank on the shoulder to let him know he was ready. They tilted the machine up and thrust the big drill bit into the door. Wood chips went flying and the whole cabin shook. Frank and Joe leaned heavily into the auger handles, then stumbled as the auger broke through the door. They yanked the auger back in as Joe cut the engine.

  “At least now we’ll have some air until we get out of here,” Frank said. He reached through the hole and felt the padlock on the door.

  “We can pry the lock off,” Joe said. He searched through the gear and found a six-foot-long steel ice bar weighing nearly twenty pounds.

  “Try this,” Joe said as he handed it to Frank.

  Frank passed the ice bar through the hole and used it as a lever against the hinged shackle. He gave it a few short pushes.

  “Let me try,” Joe said.

  Joe was a bit stronger than his brother, and at a time like this, Frank wasn’t going to let his pride get in the way. He held on to the bar while Joe reached out to take hold of it.

  With one quick push, Joe rammed the steel bar, and they heard a loud crack as the lock popped off and the door swung open.

  “We’re out of here,” Joe said as he dove out into the refreshing chill of the night air.

  “Not a moment too soon,” Frank agreed. “Anyone out here?”

  “They’re long gone,” Joe said as his eyes scanned the lake. Joe read the name on the door. “Do you think this guy Paul Rizzo knows something?”

  “I don’t know,” Frank said. He closed what was left of the door. “We’re going to have to fix this.”

  “Let’s first see if the van’s still in one piece,” Joe said.

  They made their way across the lake to where they had left the van.

  “Unbelievable. No one touched it,” Frank said.

  “Let’s get home before someone does,” Joe said.

  • • •

  After school the next day, Frank and Joe went back to the lake with a small piece of wood to patch the door to Rizzo’s shanty.

  “Well, if it isn’t the Hardy boys,” Ernie said as he came across the ice from the bait shop. “Stu said he saw you down here, but I didn’t think you boys knew Rizzo.”

  “We don’t, really,” Joe said.

  “Then what are you doing to his shanty?”

  “Just a little patch job,” Frank said as he nailed the wood over the hole in the door.

  “Ernie, did you see anyone on the lake last night?” Joe asked.

  “Me? No, I stayed in. But you should ask Stu and Neil. They were out fishing most of the night. Not that they caught anything. Sometimes I don’t know what they do out here,” he added with a shake of his head.

  “Interesting,” Frank said. “We’ll have to go see them later.”

  “First, you have some work to do,” Ernie said. “Your patch job sure looks bad. I think you’d better replace the whole door.” With that, he turned and walked to his shanty.

  When he was out of earshot, Joe turned to Frank, “Stu and Neil were out all night fishing and they didn’t catch a thing?”

  “Well, they may have caught us,” Frank said.

  “Do you think Ray’s friends are off the hook?” Joe said.

  “I don’t know, but where are they now? I thought they played hockey every day,” Frank said.

  “Maybe they’re avoiding the scene of the crime,” Joe said as he looked over the lake.

  “We should go see Ray and find out if he’s avoiding us,” Frank said. He finished nailing the patch to the door and stood back to survey his work. “I think Ernie’s right. We’d better replace the whole door,” he said.

  “First, let’s go see if Stu and Neil have anything to say about last night,” Joe said.

  They walked up to the bait shop. Stu was behind the counter, and Neil was arranging some reels on a rack nearby.

  “Hey, remember us? Frank and Joe Hardy,” Frank said.

  Neil said hello, but Stu just fixed them with a sullen stare.

  “Ernie told us you guys were out fishing last night,” Joe said.

  “So?” Stu said.

  “We were out on the lake last night, too, and we ran into a little trouble. I was wondering if you saw anything,” Frank said.

  Stu looked at Neil before speaking. “If I tell you something, you promise to keep it to yourselves?”

  “Sure,” Frank said.

  “Well, Ernie’s not too cool about us hanging out and partying in town, so we always tell him we’re going fishing,” Stu said.

  Stu looked over at Neil, who nodded his agreement. “We go out like we’re going to fish, but then we hitch a ride into town,” Neil said.

  “Where do you guys hang out?” Joe asked.

  “Different places,” Stu said. “It’s the only fun we get when we come to visit our grandfather. If you get us busted, you’ll be sorry.”

  “No problem,” Frank said as he and Joe turned to go.

  They loaded their tools back into the van and headed over to Ray’s house.

  “They sure got nervous when we asked about where they go,” Joe said.

  “Besides, how many places are open that late?” Joe asked.

  “Not too many,” Frank said. “Let’s check them out later.”

  “You know what, Frank?” Joe said. “It really is cold in here.”

  “So I’ve heard. We’ll get Phil to rig something,” Frank suggested.

  “Drive in slowly,” Joe said when they reached Ray’s driveway. “I don’t want to surprise Mr. Nelson again.”

  “You and me both,” Frank said.

  Ray was in the garage with his friends Vinnie and John. They were working on Ray’s truck.

  “Check that out,” Joe said as he looked at the jacked-up suspension and oversize tires.

  “He works on it so much that I don’t think I’ve ever seen it on the road,” Frank said.

  Before Ray saw Frank and Joe, Vinnie came over. “What do you want?” he said with an edge to his voice.

  “Hey, it’s the hotshot Hardy boys,” John called from the garage.

  Frank noticed the torn look on Ray’s face. Ray needed their help, but he didn’t seem to want his friends to know it.

  “We’re here to see Ray,” Frank said calmly, eager not to be drawn into a fight.

  “Joe Hardy, why don’t you let me wipe you out in some no-rules hockey?” Vinnie taunted.

  Frank wasn’t in the mood for a game of dare, but he knew Joe wouldn’t shrink from a challenge.

  “Name the time and place, and you’re on,” Joe said as he stood his ground before Vinnie.

  “Today, at the lake. Two-on-two. No rules,” Vinnie said.

  “First to score three goals wins,” John added.

  “I’ll be referee,” Ray said as he wiped the motor oil off his hands. “Come inside,” Ray said. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he called to Vinnie and John as he led Frank and Joe into the house.

  Ray’s bedroom had posters of supersize trucks and motorcycles on the walls.

  “I thought of something that might help you guys,” Ray said. He reached into a drawer and pulled out a card with a picture of a monster truck.

  “My friends sent it to me at Christmas last year when I was in Michigan. They all signed it.”

  “Thanks,” Frank said.

  “Do you happen to know where Vinnie and John were last night, around eleven?” Joe asked. “We got jumped at the lake.”

  “They work the night shift at Burger World,” Ray said.

  “Don’t mention anything. We don’t want to tip them off,” Frank said.

  “They’re not the ones,” Ray said vehemently.

  “We’re just narrowing down the list, Ray,” Frank said as they headed back outside.

  “I’m going to wipe your hide all over the ice later,” Vinnie called when he saw Frank and Joe heading to the van. “They’re going to need a snow shovel to get you home,” he added.