Nancy left the Billy Goat Tavern and drove through early afternoon traffic back to River Heights.

Ann Granger had admitted that she was sitting on a potentially explosive story. Marcus, Melanie and Meghan Shorter were victims of murder, not a tragic accident. Someone deliberately set fire to that house. Someone wanted them all dead.

As she left Chicago city limits, Nancy began to wonder how much further she should poke her nose into the matter.

It's not like you knew that family personally, she thought. Let the investigators do their jobs. Focus your energy instead on getting better so you can get back to your job; so you can get back to your life!

Nancy chewed on her lip, brow furrowed in concentration. She could feel the stirrings of something in the pit of her stomach. There's something very wrong about this one. This is more than run-of-the-mill arson. I can't shake the feeling that there's something deeper going on here. Those poor people were murdered while they slept.

The Miata's engine purred as Nancy floored the accelerator. The traffic was thinning out and she cruised onto the open, empty road.

I may not be 'officially' on any force or investigation, but I still intend to find out what happened! With that decision, she was surprised to feel a small sense of calm and satisfaction come over her. All that's left now is exactly how I'm going to go about investigating...

Meritsville

Frank and Joe had reached the decision that one of them would drive to Meritsville and alert the authorities rather than move the body of the deceased thug. Joe had volunteered, and Frank and Rosie remained at the scene.

When he arrived, DeGroot had taken custody of the unconscious thug, who had actually come to his senses in transit. He had maintained his silence the entire trip, and had refused to answer questions as to his identity and his role in the attack on the Hardys.

The local Medical Examiner had taken the body of the dead man for autopsy, although cause of death was already quite clear to all present.

Rosie had been extremely reluctant and even agitated at the prospect of turning in his ancient weapon as evidence in the shooting death, but Frank was able to reason with him that it was merely police procedure.

"We know you shot him in order to save our lives," Frank said. "I promise everything will be all right, Rosie."

The Hardys held a conference with Chief De Groot in his office after they had all given a statement about what transpired in the woods.

"I'd say you delivered quite the package to us today, gentlemen," Chief DeGroot said, a grim expression on his face.

"Has he said anything?" Frank asked, referring to the man that was presently sitting in a holding cell.

"Our 'guest' has chosen to exercise his right to remain silent. Hasn't even called for a lawyer – yet."

"We have to get that guy to talk," Joe said passionately. "He's definitely in on something big, and he's all we have right now."

"We found several license plates hidden in the van; some of them are even out-of-state. Doubtless they were lifted from other vehicles. Might even be mock ups. We're running all of them now." DeGroot said. "Hopefully, we get something. Maybe one of them might even turn out to be the real plate."

Frank shook his head. "I think you're being overly optimistic, Chief. These guys are pros. I doubt you'll get anything of value."

DeGroot shrugged. "My gut's telling me the same thing, Frank, but I have to cover all my bases, right?... Now, you all seem to think there's some kind of baby-selling ring going on here...all because we haven't found the body of the infant?"

"Right, Chief," Frank started eagerly. "There's been no ransom demand. The Hunter family isn't wealthy, and there's been no body. Put that together with what Rosie says he saw the night Cal and Sandy went missing. There are only a handful of reasons someone would kidnap an infant..."

"Ah, yes...a dark van...and vague impressions of 'evil people' moving around the woods..."

Frank was annoyed that he detected a hint of sarcasm and disbelief in DeGroot's tone.

"I have to tell you two...Rosie's not a stranger to authorities. While I've never had run-ins with him, you tend to hear stories."

"What kind of stories?" Joe asked.

"Oh, nothing serious. But Rosie does have the reputation of being a trouble-maker."

"How's that?" Joe countered. "He's a survivalist. He grows his own food and he hunts. He's self-sufficient. He doesn't trouble anyone if they don't trouble him. Maybe if people stopped bothering him and let him be, he wouldn't -"

"Joe, I get it," Chief DeGroot put up a hand. "My people have always let him be. I have no quarrel with the man. But I do start to wonder why he didn't come forward sooner. If he knew there was something...illegal going on in these woods, why did he keep it to himself?"

"You think Rosie is involved?" Joe was incredulous.

"That's absurd, Chief," Frank put in. "He didn't come forward for the very reason that he despises and mistrusts the authorities. But now that he has, I think you really ought to cut him some slack and take his observations seriously."

DeGroot raised an eyebrow and scowled.

Frank shut his mouth and tried to calm himself. "Sorry. I wasn't being very tactful. I didn't mean to tell you how to do your job."

"Thank you, Frank," the Chief said. "I can appreciate how you feel. You said you had an encounter with Rosie several years ago, and that he was helpful to you. Fine. To be honest, I don't believe he has anything to do with the deaths of Calvin and Sandra Hunter."

Joe sighed in relief, and Frank nodded approvingly.

"You see, we got back the preliminary autopsy report. The Hunters were both shot, and it is clear from their wounds that they weren't caused by that rifle Rosie's been carrying."

"Do we know what type of weapon?" Frank asked.

"No. We did find some 9mm bullets which does little to narrow the field...Some of them were too far gone and fragmented to be of any real forensic value. If we did have a weapon for comparison, we might get lucky with some of the intact ones recovered..."

"Tell us everything you know," Joe said.

DeGroot looked at the brothers warily. "It's not pretty," he said as a warning.

"We didn't think it would be," Frank said somberly.

"They were pretty much executed," DeGroot said flatly. "Calvin Hunter was shot twice in the back of the head. Death was instantaneous. Sandra, on the other hand, appears to have been running when she was shot. Our ME found bullet wounds to the back of the head, neck, and thigh. Her slacks were shredded at the knees. He concluded it would be consistent with a fall to the ground. Her back was most certainly to the shooter."

"Cowards," Joe muttered, glowering. "What kind of monster shoots a woman in the back?"

"Anything else turn up in the autopsy?" Frank asked, trying to ignore Joe's comment, even though he felt the same way.

"Nothing that gets us any closer to the identity of the killer or killers, and nothing that gets us closer to finding the baby – if, as you surmise, he's even still alive...Rosie's eye-witness account notwithstanding."

"Thank you for all this," Frank said, reaching over and shaking DeGroot's hand. "We'll be following up on some leads of our own from here."

"Ah, the missing Taurus, right?" the Chief asked.

"It has to be somewhere," Joe commented. "I mean, they can't have buried that, too. Rosie says he saw two guys get into it and drive off after burying Cal and Sandy. We happen to believe him."

"Let us know if you manage to crack our man in black," Frank added. "I'm confident he knows plenty, but that he's also low on the food chain."

"I will," De Groot said, "so long as you let me know what you discover about the missing car. And for the record: it appears to me that Rosie's account of what happened the night Cal and Sandy were killed is consistent with the ME's findings."

Frank and Joe both nodded in approval and relief.

"I don't know how loyal that thug is to his employers," said Joe, "but I doubt he wants to take the fall for two murders, kidnapping, and vehicle theft. Not to mention sabotaging our car, stalking and holding us captive out there in the woods..."

"Exactly," De Groot said. "I'll be sending off the weapons we recovered from these guys for ballistics testing first thing tomorrow. Who knows? Maybe we'll get lucky and match one or both to the slugs we found from the Hunters."

"From your lips to God's ears," Frank said. "We could really use a break on this one."

ooo

It was close to six-thirty when Nancy pulled into the driveway. Hannah was just getting ready to serve a simple dinner of pasta with a tomato and basil sauce; tossed salad and a vinegar-and-olive oil dressing, and fresh garlic bread.

"Mmm..." Nancy sniffed the air. "Everything smells wonderful, Hannah," she said.

"Welcome back," Hannah said with a smile. "Your timing is excellent."

Nancy greeted Hannah with a quick peck on the cheek and hurried off to wash up before heading to the dining table.

When she returned, she found that Carson had emerged from his study and was helping himself to a generous portion of spaghetti.

"Hi, Dad."

"Hi, honey," he said warmly, setting down his plate. He turned around and hugged her briefly before dropping a kiss on her forehead.

Nancy picked up a plate for herself and served up some salad and a few slices of garlic bread.

The meal initially passed in silence. It was broken when Carson ventured to ask how Nancy's session with Dr. Kirkpatrick had gone.

"Oh...fine," Nancy answered. "I'm seeing him again next week."

"I see..." Carson said.

Nancy noticed he hadn't resumed his meal. She looked up to meet his gaze.

"What is it?" Nancy asked.

Hannah had also put down her fork and was looking at her in a quiet, searching way.

"Is there something stuck in my teeth?" Nancy asked, jokingly.

"Oh...no, there's nothing stuck in your teeth, honey," Carson said hurriedly, and absently picked up a piece of bread and bit into it. Hannah took a sip from her glass of water.

"Okay, you two," Nancy said, "what's going on?"

Carson cleared his throat. "Hannah mentioned you were particularly interested in a house fire that happened a few days ago..."

"Yes..." Nancy answered slowly. She wasn't quite sure why, but she started feeling pangs of guilt.

"I noticed that Ann Granger wrote the piece on it."

"Right," Nancy said. "I was just...interested because it was a terrible fire. A whole family, including an infant, died."

"It was ruled an accident, wasn't it? Something about a gas leak?"

"Yes." Nancy sighed. She wasn't ready to admit she'd spoken with Ann, or about Ann's revelation that the fire was not an accident. "Are you worried I'm poking my nose some place it doesn't belong, Dad?"

"No," he replied. "You've always had a nose for trouble, Nancy. I just wish you didn't always follow that nose. You've only just returned home. You're on leave from your job. I guess I'd hoped you'd relax and take care of yourself before sniffing out another case."

"Possible case." Nancy corrected. "I'm only going with gut feelings right now."

"So, you are thinking of pursuing this..." Carson pressed.

Nancy sucked in a breath. She'd said more than she intended to. "Okay, you made me say it. Yes, I'm thinking of pursuing this."
"Then I guess you'll be meeting with Ann, won't you? Ferret out some facts..."

"You know me too well, Dad," Nancy said with a wry smile, and returned her attention to the meal. Carson took his cue and decided not to press his daughter to elaborate any further.

ooo

The sound of Frank Hardy's cell phone ringing jarred him awake around one o'clock in the morning. With a groan of protest, he rolled over in his motel room bed and reached for the bedside lamp. The harsh light caused Joe to awaken as well, and he covered his eyes with his pillow to block the sudden onslaught.

"Frank Hardy..." the elder brother muttered into his phone. He listened for a few moments, then sucked in a deep breath. "Chief, what the hell happened?!"

Joe shifted the pillow down and eyed Frank, quickly coming to the realization that something was amiss.

"Everything?!" Frank said in disbelief. "The body?!"

"Frank?" Joe whispered. He was sitting up now, fully awake. Frank ignored him and continued his conversation for a few more minutes. Joe stood and began to impatiently pace about the small room.

"I know you're doing all you can, Chief. We're headed your way right now." Frank snapped his cell phone shut without bothering with niceties.

"What happened?" Joe asked, eager for details.

"That was Chief DeGroot. About two hours ago, there was what appeared to be a very well-orchestrated attack on the Meritsville police station. Whoever was responsible sprung the guy they had in custody."

"What!" Joe cried.

"That's not all," Frank continued, "the perpetrators also broke into the evidence lockers. The two weapons the thugs were carrying were also stolen, along with the ballistics evidence and lab reports from the Hunter case."

"They got away with all the physical evidence!" Joe sputtered. "Wait...was anyone hurt?"

"The officers on the late shift at the station were somehow rendered unconscious. Chief DeGroot says it may be some kind of knock-out gas. But that's not all..."

"What else could possibly be worse than losing precious evidence?" Joe asked.

"Another group broke into the morgue."

"Ugh..." Joe said with a shudder. "Do we know what were they after?"

"Chief DeGroot says the body of the man Rosie killed is missing, along with those autopsy photos and reports the ME did this afternoon."

"What's going on, Frank? Someone or some group is very determined to keep all evidence from coming to light. They've already tried to kill us; now they're covering their tracks."

"I agree it looks very bad." Frank assented. "I didn't want to tell Chief DeGroot earlier how to do his job, but I'm beginning to think this is getting too big for us to handle on our own..."

ooo

A black SUV traveled quickly on a rural road leading away from Meritsville. Its occupants were feeling a mix of elation and trepidation: elation that they had successfully raided the Meritsville police headquarters and the morgue; trepidation that they were still not in the clear with their boss.

One particular member was experiencing a certain relief that he had been busted out of the Meritsville holding cell by his comrades. He was also nursing a slow-burning anger and resolve to avenge the death of his partner. They'd had Frank and Joe Hardy right where they wanted them, then some unseen marksman had interfered. He didn't know how he was going to explain that failure to eliminate those investigators from Bayport to the boss yet. Sooner or later, he knew he'd face that wrath.

The shrill ring of a cell phone broke the silence. Four pairs of eyes turned to look at the one whose phone was waiting to be answered.

"Ray," came the reply when the call was answered.

"I want a status report," came the curt instruction.

"The jailbreak was a success. We also recovered the documents and physical evidence in question. We have the body, too. We're on our way back, now."

"Good. At least you've all done something right. I want to speak with Brad."

Ray handed the phone to Brad.

"Boss wants to talk to you."

Reluctantly, Brad took the phone.

"I'm listening," he said.

"You screwed up." The words were spoken in a low whisper, but Brad knew there was an avalanche of restrained anger and frustration behind them.

"I know. It won't happen again," Brad replied.

"Not only is Niles dead, but those private investigators are still alive! How did this happen?"

"They had someone with them. Back-up of some kind; shot out the window of the van. It took us by surprise. We got into a struggle with the Hardys; I got knocked out. When I came to, I was in handcuffs, and Niles was dead."

"Your incompetence in this case is trying my patience, Brad. Why didn't we know these Hardy characters had another partner hiding out there?..Never mind. One more slip-up..."

The line went dead. Brad stared at the phone for a few moments, then returned it to Ray. The boss didn't need to finish the last sentence for Brad to get the meaning. One more slip-up, and he could kiss his job, and possibly his life, good-bye.

The ride continued in silence, and Brad's thoughts were churning. This particular case was turning into a nightmare. He did know one thing: the Hardys were going to pay for this embarrassment, and so would their invisible accomplice. It was only a matter of time.