045 In Self-Defense by Franklin W. Dixon

Author:Franklin W. Dixon [Dixon, Franklin W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: hbfiles
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

The line went dead. Frank slammed the phone down.

“What was that all about?” Kay Lewis asked him.

Frank took a deep breath. “Daye’s got Callie.”

“We should’ve taken down that punk last night,” Joe said bitterly. “What does he want? Some kind of ransom?”

Frank glanced at his watch. “He wants to meet me in nine minutes.”

“Then we better get going,” Joe rephed.

Frank shook his head. “He told me not to bring anybody else.”

“Then we’ll be your backup,” Joe said. “We’ll follow you in another car.”

“It’s too risky,” Frank argued. “And there’s no time to find a car.” He looked at his brother. “I’m sorry, Joe. I’ve got to do this alone.” Then he bolted out the front door and ran to the van.

“He’s going to need some insurance,” Kay said.

Joe nodded. “I know—but what can we do?” Kay smiled. “I’ve got great insurance—and a brand-new car to prove it. Want to take it out for a spin?”

Frank screeched the van to a halt at a stoplight. He checked the time. It was about thirty seconds later than the last time he had checked. He still had four minutes. That should be enough time, he told himself, but it would be tight. He looked around. The intersection was clear. There were no other cars in sight. Frank gritted his teeth and punched the accelerator, leaving the red hght behind.

He got to the address on Lincoln with about a minute to spare. The building was a burnt-out skeleton. Frank could see the sky through the windows on the upper floor. Half the roof was missing. He double-checked the number, 812. That’s what Daye had said. He was sure of it.

Then Frank spotted a car up the street. He could see two people sitting in it, but it was too far away for Frank to make out any details. He started to walk toward the car when he heard a phone ring behind him.

A phone? Frank spun around and saw a pay phone on the sidewalk about fifty feet away. He hadn’t noticed it before because it was partially blocked by a utility pole. He sprinted over and grabbed the receiver, almost ripping the metal-sheathed cord out of the phone base.

“What kind of game is this?” he shouted into the phone.

“One where I make the rules,” Conrad Daye’s voice said in Frank’s ear. “Don’t forget that.”

“I won’t,” Frank said grimly. “What do you want me to do now?”

“Be at the video arcade in five minutes,” Daye told him. “And don’t hang up the phone. Leave it off the hook.”

Frank dropped the receiver and left it dangling there. He ran back to the van and took off again. Daye wasn’t taking any chances, he realized. Frank could make it to the arcade in five minutes —if he didn’t make any detours or stops along the way. And the bit with the phone was to prevent him fi*om making any quick calls to tell anyone where he was going. Daye wouldn’t hang up on his end until Frank was moving again.

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