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Bayport.”
    â€œSpeaking of parents,” Frank said, “did you reach Chrissy’s folks in Virginia?”
    â€œI sure did,” Joe said. “I called the next-of-kin number on that sheet you gave me and got Mrs. Peters, Chrissy’s mother. I pretended I was a friend looking for Chrissy. Mrs. Peters said she hasn’t spoken to Chrissy in about a month. I poked around some, trying to see if there was any hint of danger or trouble in Chrissy’s life, but I didn’t find out anything.”
    â€œNot that her mother would be the first to know,” Frank said, leaning back on the sofa.
    â€œHer mother sounded real friendly,” Joe said. “It makes me sick to think any day now she may get a call telling her Chrissy is . . . ”
    â€œShe won’t get that call,” Frank said firmly. “We’re going to solve this thing, and Chrissy is going to be all right.”
    â€œWe should probably make some attempt to locate Chrissy,” Jamal suggested. “Maybe I’ll do that tomorrow while you guys find some other ridiculous situation to—”
    The sound of shattering glass cut Jamal off and made everyone jump. A bottle came flying throughthe living room window. It was another brown coconut soda bottle.
    As Joe and Jamal raced outside, Frank picked up the bottle. Instead of soda or gunpowder, the bottle contained a folded piece of paper. Using a pocketknife, Frank pulled the paper out and unfolded it. There was nothing on the paper except a solid black circle, drawn with ink.
    â€œWe didn’t see anyone,” Joe said as he and Jamal breathlessly returned to the room. “The person must have run away real fast or hidden somewhere.”
    â€œThis was in the bottle,” Frank said, showing the paper to Joe and Jamal.
    â€œWhat does this mean?” Joe asked, puzzled.
    â€œI think I know,” Jamal said. “It’s a reference to the book Treasure Island . When the pirates are planning to kill someone in the book, they first send the victim a ‘black spot.’ It looks just like this.”
    â€œThe black spot . . . ” Joe said, fishing through his grade-school memories. “I remember that now.”
    Frank stared at the solid black circle. Someone had marked him and Joe, and possibly Jamal, for death.

9 Green Gold and Real Gold
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    â€œWho is planning to kill us?” Joe said, plopping onto the sofa, “or at least threatening to? And why?”
    â€œI don’t know who is after us, but I can guess why. Someone knows we’re investigating the attempted murder of Chrissy Peters,” Frank said, running a hand through his brown hair. “And that someone is telling us to back off.”
    â€œBecause the person who sent us the black spot,” Jamal said, picking up the brown bottle, “is probably the same person who tried to kill Chrissy Peters.”
    â€œRight,” Frank said.
    â€œHow about we get something to eat?” Joe said,bouncing up from the sofa. “I always get hungry when someone threatens my life.”
    After the boys showered and changed into long pants and fresh T-shirts, Jamal took the Hardys to the Parrot’s Paradise, a small restaurant in Soufrière. Colorful murals were painted on the walls, and fishing nets hung from the ceiling. The place was crowded and loud with chatter.
    â€œLet’s review everything we’ve got so far,” Frank said, examining his bowl of Creole goat stew. “Then we’ll figure out what the next step should be.”
    â€œOur two leading suspects,” Joe said, glancing warily at Frank’s bowl, “are Pierre Montclare and Peg Riley. We don’t have a motive on Montclare, but he was supposedly the last person to see Chrissy before she disappeared. On top of that, he didn’t seem to want us on the boat today, and he might have even injured Frank to make his point.”
    â€œAnd