Hardy Boys - More Than Just The Fun Uncle

A Final Break

Frank felt a hand rest itself on his shoulder, but he did not meet his father's eyes. He was too distracted by the picture before him. What did it mean?

"It's Joe's." The younger Hardy said at last. Out of the corner of his eye, Frank could see Fenton's head nodding, slowly and sadly.

"I'm afraid you've hit the nail on the head, Son."

"Could he survive losing that much?" Frank asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"It's possible." The old detective said, though he seemed less than hopeful. "But I doubt he'd be in much condition to go moving about, if that were the case."

Frank shook his head in dismay. "What did they do to him? Why couldn't they just leave him and Kitty here and escape on their own?"

"I don't know, Frank." Fenton stepped closer to the red stain on the floor. He reached down and touched the blood that had once been responsible for pumping so much life into his youngest son. "Some of it is still wet. They didn't leave long ago."

The detective's eyes were then drawn to something in the wall directly behind the stain. Rough, weathered fingers brushed gently along the surface of an old rusted pipe. Frank noticed his father's brow crease and his brown eyes seemed to turn a shade darker.

"What is it, Dad?"

Fenton shook his head, slowly. "The rust on this pipe has been rubbed away." Frank found his own heart matching the look on his father's face as the detective kept speaking. "I think they must have kept Joe's restrained."

The younger's mouth felt suddenly dry, but he managed to ask the question. "You mean, when they did this to him?" He gestured to his brother's blood, but did not dare let himself see it again.

Fenton's face looked as grim as ever, and he nodded his head. "And left him incapable of treating it."

Frank's fists balled at his sides. His teeth clenched, and his jaw tightened and his eyes burned with intensity. He and Joe had faced many a bad guy in their relatively short time on this earth, but never had one been able to make them this miserably infuriated. No other criminal had crossed the line as far as Devon Counihan had. Frank was determined to find that monster and put an end to his schemes before he could hurt anybody any further.

The dark haired Hardy spoke through clenched teeth. "If I ever get my hands on-"

"Shhhh..." His father interrupted. Both detectives froze as they heard the sound of footsteps on the floor above them.

"Counihan?" A voice said, then it continued louder, "Gibbs!"

Fenton gestured for Frank to hide himself at the side of the stairs. The old detective then proceeded to cover his mouth with his hand and shout, "Down here!" The cry was muffled by his hand and difficult to hear clearly. Hopefully the other man in the house wouldn't become suspicious.

Soon the footsteps could be heard coming down the staircase. As soon as Frank could see the man, he sprung from his hiding place and locked the figure in a headlock. He jabbed his pistol into his prisoner's ribs and growled into his ear, "One false move and you're as doomed as a turkey on Thanksgiving."

The man Frank grabbed held up his hands in surrender. "I-I give up! Please d-don't hurt me!"

Frank released his hold and shoved the man into the opposite wall, where he and his father trained their weapons carefully on their captive. He could be seen more clearly now and seemed to have auburn hair, and Frank guessed him to be a little younger than Joe.