Read Online See No Evil by Franklin W. Dixon - Free Book Online
Authors: Franklin W. Dixon
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them!"
The truck driver flicked on his headlights, and Lisa and Joe were caught in their glare.
Lisa wheeled around to run in the other direction. But Joe had already seen the door by the driver's seat opening and a man leaping out. And in his hand.
"Duck," Joe said. "He's got a gun!"
His warning came too late.
There was a sharp cracking noise. Lisa gave a cry, stiffened, and fell. Joe's gut twisted. No, he thought.
The man with the gun raised his hand again.
Run — fast, a voice inside Joe's head cried, but he couldn't make himself move.
Another crack—and Joe felt the pain.
This time I've bought it. He swayed on his feet. Then the darkness closed in.
Chapter 9
"I WONDER WHAT'S keeping them," Frank said to Callie. "I'm getting worried."
"It is getting late," said Callie. She looked at her watch. "Seven o'clock."
They sat in the Hardys' living room. Callie had already called her parents to say she wouldn't be home for dinner. She and Frank had said goodbye to Liz at the newspaper office after compiling a list of contracts awarded by the city over the past year. Then they had gone back to the Hardys' to wait for Joe and Lisa.
"Maybe they went back to the Bayport Inn," Frank said. "I'll call Lisa's room."
He made the call, then hung up. He shook his head and said, "Lisa's not in. Actually, the guy at the switchboard was surprised by that. It seems he saw her go back to the inn a couple of hours before with Joe, but he didn't see her leave. He did see Joe leave, but with another girl. Some teenager."
"He probably ran into her at the inn and asked her out on the spot," Callie said.
"Not likely," said Frank, "from the look in Joe's eyes when he gazes at Lisa. It's more likely that Lisa made herself look younger so that their cover as reporters would be more believable."
"You're probably right. That sounds like Lisa's style. She's pretty amazing," said Callie thoughtfully. "I haven't seen Joe this interested in any girl since — well, in a long time." She looked at Frank. "Well, let's get moving. You don't have to tell me what we have to do now. I can figure that out for myself. We go to Eat-Right and pick up their trail."
"You took the words right out of my mouth," said Frank, putting on his coat.
They took a bus that dropped them off two blocks from Eat-Right. They walked the distance quickly. Then they stood and stared at the darkened building.
"Looks like everybody's gone home."
"Yeah," said Frank. "It sure looks deserted." He ran his hand through his hair. "Something feels wrong, though. If they're not in trouble, we should have heard from them by now." He turned to Callie. "Let's check this place out, anyway."
Just then they heard a sound from behind the building.
"That's a car starting," said Frank. "Quick. Get out of sight."
Frank and Callie pressed themselves against the building. A moment later a van moved out from behind the building and sped ofF. As it passed under a streetlight Frank and Callie got a look at the lettering on the side panel.
"What on earth could a dog-food company want here?" wondered Callie.
"I don't even want to think about that," said Frank. "Let's find out what's going on."
They moved swiftly to the loading platform around the back and stood facing darkened windows.
Frank stepped up to the windows and pointed his pen flashlight at one of the panes. "The glass is painted black," he said. "Somebody doesn't want anyone looking inside."
He tried the door, but it was locked.
While Callie looked on wide-eyed, Frank took out a Swiss army knife. At least it looked like a Swiss army knife. But it contained a metal pick that was definitely not Swiss army standard equipment.
"My dad gave one of these to Joe and me, and showed us how to use them," he explained as he went to work on the lock. "He said if we were going to fool around with detective work, we should have the tools of the trade."
When he heard the tumblers click, he withdrew the pick and opened the door a
The truck driver flicked on his headlights, and Lisa and Joe were caught in their glare.
Lisa wheeled around to run in the other direction. But Joe had already seen the door by the driver's seat opening and a man leaping out. And in his hand.
"Duck," Joe said. "He's got a gun!"
His warning came too late.
There was a sharp cracking noise. Lisa gave a cry, stiffened, and fell. Joe's gut twisted. No, he thought.
The man with the gun raised his hand again.
Run — fast, a voice inside Joe's head cried, but he couldn't make himself move.
Another crack—and Joe felt the pain.
This time I've bought it. He swayed on his feet. Then the darkness closed in.
Chapter 9
"I WONDER WHAT'S keeping them," Frank said to Callie. "I'm getting worried."
"It is getting late," said Callie. She looked at her watch. "Seven o'clock."
They sat in the Hardys' living room. Callie had already called her parents to say she wouldn't be home for dinner. She and Frank had said goodbye to Liz at the newspaper office after compiling a list of contracts awarded by the city over the past year. Then they had gone back to the Hardys' to wait for Joe and Lisa.
"Maybe they went back to the Bayport Inn," Frank said. "I'll call Lisa's room."
He made the call, then hung up. He shook his head and said, "Lisa's not in. Actually, the guy at the switchboard was surprised by that. It seems he saw her go back to the inn a couple of hours before with Joe, but he didn't see her leave. He did see Joe leave, but with another girl. Some teenager."
"He probably ran into her at the inn and asked her out on the spot," Callie said.
"Not likely," said Frank, "from the look in Joe's eyes when he gazes at Lisa. It's more likely that Lisa made herself look younger so that their cover as reporters would be more believable."
"You're probably right. That sounds like Lisa's style. She's pretty amazing," said Callie thoughtfully. "I haven't seen Joe this interested in any girl since — well, in a long time." She looked at Frank. "Well, let's get moving. You don't have to tell me what we have to do now. I can figure that out for myself. We go to Eat-Right and pick up their trail."
"You took the words right out of my mouth," said Frank, putting on his coat.
They took a bus that dropped them off two blocks from Eat-Right. They walked the distance quickly. Then they stood and stared at the darkened building.
"Looks like everybody's gone home."
"Yeah," said Frank. "It sure looks deserted." He ran his hand through his hair. "Something feels wrong, though. If they're not in trouble, we should have heard from them by now." He turned to Callie. "Let's check this place out, anyway."
Just then they heard a sound from behind the building.
"That's a car starting," said Frank. "Quick. Get out of sight."
Frank and Callie pressed themselves against the building. A moment later a van moved out from behind the building and sped ofF. As it passed under a streetlight Frank and Callie got a look at the lettering on the side panel.
"What on earth could a dog-food company want here?" wondered Callie.
"I don't even want to think about that," said Frank. "Let's find out what's going on."
They moved swiftly to the loading platform around the back and stood facing darkened windows.
Frank stepped up to the windows and pointed his pen flashlight at one of the panes. "The glass is painted black," he said. "Somebody doesn't want anyone looking inside."
He tried the door, but it was locked.
While Callie looked on wide-eyed, Frank took out a Swiss army knife. At least it looked like a Swiss army knife. But it contained a metal pick that was definitely not Swiss army standard equipment.
"My dad gave one of these to Joe and me, and showed us how to use them," he explained as he went to work on the lock. "He said if we were going to fool around with detective work, we should have the tools of the trade."
When he heard the tumblers click, he withdrew the pick and opened the door a
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