Read Online Castle Fear by Franklin W. Dixon - Free Book Online
Authors: Franklin W. Dixon
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exploded with a fiery roar.
Chapter 10
It seemed to be raining fire and jagged chunks of metal as well as water.
Joe leapt for Karen, pulling her to the soggy sidewalk, shielding her body with his. The world seemed strangely silent after the blast.
"Are you okay?" Joe finally got his vocal cords to work.
"Y - yes," Karen managed. "Boy, you moved pretty fast, Did you get hurt?"
"Not as far as I can tell." Still on his knees, Joe glanced at the wreckage of the car. Flames were playing around it, and the rain sizzled on the hot metal. "Looks like the bad guys are really playing hardball now."
Suddenly he was on his feet, half-crouched. The sound of running footsteps echoed in the fog. They could make out a blurred figure approaching.
"Everything all right?" Frank asked, skidding to a halt. He'd been heading toward the restaurant when the sound of the sudden explosion tore through the fog.
Joe helped Karen up. "Well, my hair feels like it's standing on end, and my ears are ringing worse than the last time we went to a rock concert. But outside of that, I don't think I have any problems."
Frank started back the way he came. "Then let's get away from here."
"Won't the police want to talk to you about your exploding automobile?" Karen asked.
"That's exactly why we have to make a getaway. We don't have anything solid to hand to the law right now. And we don't have time to waste, either."
Joe turned to Karen. "You up to some brisk hiking?"
She grinned. "Sure. All I seem to have is a few scrapes and bruises - and one ruined raincoat."
People with umbrellas were starting to appear, coming from restaurants and pubs. They surrounded the ruins of the car. Frank, Joe, and Karen turned their backs on the spectacle and slogged off in the rain.
"So where do we go from here?" Karen asked.
"I think it's time for a trip to beautiful Beswick," said Frank.
Joe grinned. "Just what I was about to suggest myself."
***
The three of them were able to catch the final train for Beswick that night. When they were settled into a compartment, Frank said, "What's the scoop, guys?"
From inside his coat Joe took the envelope Karen had given him. "Some background material on Emily Cornwall."
Studying the picture, Frank asked, "Does Jillian look like this?"
"Quite a bit," Karen admitted.
"So she could definitely impersonate the Cornwall girl." Frank turned his attention to the typewritten notes.
"But Jillian wouldn't do it - not just to make money," Karen said.
Joe chimed in with the theories that he and Karen had shared over the dinner table.
"There's a third possibility," Frank said, still reading. "Suppose Nigel Hawkins came to Jillian. She knows him as a movie producer. He tells her he's planning a film based on the life of an heiress like Emily. He auditions her, maybe gets her to pose for some photos in a dark wig."
"That would have worked." Karen, who was sharing a seat with Joe, suddenly hugged herself as if she'd gone cold. "I suppose Hawkins saw her someplace, in her play or on television, and realized how much she looked like Emily."
"He could even have gotten her out of town without telling her what he really wanted her to do." Joe stared out at the fog-shrouded countryside rushing past. "He could have warned her not to tell anyone she was being considered for this big part."
Frank set the pages and the picture on the seat beside him. "Which brings us to what I did tonight while you were feeding your faces," he said. "I paid a visit to Nigel Hawkins's offices. As I expected, he wasn't there. In fact, he hadn't been there for a while. The place was shut up tight."
Joe sighed. "Another dead end."
"Not exactly," Frank said. "I made a new friend - the concierge who takes care of the office building. He had a temporary forwarding address for Mr. Hawkins's mail - Beswick."
Karen sat up straight. "Beswick - where Emily Cornwall is supposed to be staying."
"Where Jillian Seabright may be," Joe added.
"And Jed Shannon," Karen
Chapter 10
It seemed to be raining fire and jagged chunks of metal as well as water.
Joe leapt for Karen, pulling her to the soggy sidewalk, shielding her body with his. The world seemed strangely silent after the blast.
"Are you okay?" Joe finally got his vocal cords to work.
"Y - yes," Karen managed. "Boy, you moved pretty fast, Did you get hurt?"
"Not as far as I can tell." Still on his knees, Joe glanced at the wreckage of the car. Flames were playing around it, and the rain sizzled on the hot metal. "Looks like the bad guys are really playing hardball now."
Suddenly he was on his feet, half-crouched. The sound of running footsteps echoed in the fog. They could make out a blurred figure approaching.
"Everything all right?" Frank asked, skidding to a halt. He'd been heading toward the restaurant when the sound of the sudden explosion tore through the fog.
Joe helped Karen up. "Well, my hair feels like it's standing on end, and my ears are ringing worse than the last time we went to a rock concert. But outside of that, I don't think I have any problems."
Frank started back the way he came. "Then let's get away from here."
"Won't the police want to talk to you about your exploding automobile?" Karen asked.
"That's exactly why we have to make a getaway. We don't have anything solid to hand to the law right now. And we don't have time to waste, either."
Joe turned to Karen. "You up to some brisk hiking?"
She grinned. "Sure. All I seem to have is a few scrapes and bruises - and one ruined raincoat."
People with umbrellas were starting to appear, coming from restaurants and pubs. They surrounded the ruins of the car. Frank, Joe, and Karen turned their backs on the spectacle and slogged off in the rain.
"So where do we go from here?" Karen asked.
"I think it's time for a trip to beautiful Beswick," said Frank.
Joe grinned. "Just what I was about to suggest myself."
***
The three of them were able to catch the final train for Beswick that night. When they were settled into a compartment, Frank said, "What's the scoop, guys?"
From inside his coat Joe took the envelope Karen had given him. "Some background material on Emily Cornwall."
Studying the picture, Frank asked, "Does Jillian look like this?"
"Quite a bit," Karen admitted.
"So she could definitely impersonate the Cornwall girl." Frank turned his attention to the typewritten notes.
"But Jillian wouldn't do it - not just to make money," Karen said.
Joe chimed in with the theories that he and Karen had shared over the dinner table.
"There's a third possibility," Frank said, still reading. "Suppose Nigel Hawkins came to Jillian. She knows him as a movie producer. He tells her he's planning a film based on the life of an heiress like Emily. He auditions her, maybe gets her to pose for some photos in a dark wig."
"That would have worked." Karen, who was sharing a seat with Joe, suddenly hugged herself as if she'd gone cold. "I suppose Hawkins saw her someplace, in her play or on television, and realized how much she looked like Emily."
"He could even have gotten her out of town without telling her what he really wanted her to do." Joe stared out at the fog-shrouded countryside rushing past. "He could have warned her not to tell anyone she was being considered for this big part."
Frank set the pages and the picture on the seat beside him. "Which brings us to what I did tonight while you were feeding your faces," he said. "I paid a visit to Nigel Hawkins's offices. As I expected, he wasn't there. In fact, he hadn't been there for a while. The place was shut up tight."
Joe sighed. "Another dead end."
"Not exactly," Frank said. "I made a new friend - the concierge who takes care of the office building. He had a temporary forwarding address for Mr. Hawkins's mail - Beswick."
Karen sat up straight. "Beswick - where Emily Cornwall is supposed to be staying."
"Where Jillian Seabright may be," Joe added.
"And Jed Shannon," Karen
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