Skin and Bones (8 page)

“Yes, we did,” Joe answered. “How well do you know her?”

“Not at all,” Cody said. “We just met the other day.”

“Did you hear about her expansion plans?” Joe asked. “How she wants to change this neighborhood from retail to entertainment.”

“No,” Cody said. “What do you mean?”

Joe repeated what Jennifer had said. “She really wants to change the atmosphere of the neighborhood.”

“I haven't heard a thing about it.” Cody's voice got a little louder. “And speaking as a retailer, I'm not sure I like it.”

Then Cody switched subjects. “Is Dad there?” he asked.

“Not yet,” Joe answered. “He left us a note saying he'd be back later.”

“Well, Dave called,” Cody said. “We were supposed to meet him for dinner tonight, remember? I told him about the bugs. I'm going to meet him at Dad's in about an hour. I'll just pick up something for us to eat. I don't feel much like going out.”

“Okay, great,” Joe said. “See you soon.”

After Joe hung up, he and Frank wrapped the
anteater claw back in the yellow tissue paper. Then Joe set it down in the shredded plastic foam it had been packed in. Frank fit the wooden lid into its groove, slid it closed, and put the box on the kitchen counter. Then he and Joe went to their room to clean up.

Frank showered first. He pulled on jeans and a blue sweater. Then, while Joe took his turn in the shower, Frank turned on Sergeant Chang's computer and searched the Internet for the mailing station company. He wanted to track down the locker that matched the disk Joe had found in the windmill.

“Yes,” he said aloud, when he found that the company had a website. There was information about the company's services, branch offices and addresses, and other contact information.

The company had several branches, and each specialized in a specific type of mailing or storage facility. There was only one branch that featured large refrigerated lockers—the one where Cody had his account.

The website also featured layouts of each branch, showing different sizes of lockers and mailboxes. Each box and locker was numbered. Number 5773 was a large refrigerated box in the same branch as Cody's.

Then Frank called the courier service that had delivered the strange package.

“Listen to this,” Frank reported when Joe emerged from the shower. “I just talked to the delivery service that brought us the anteater claw. It's an outfit that specializes in offbeat deliveries.”

“I think ours certainly qualifies,” Joe said. He pulled on jeans and a Forty-niners sweatshirt.

“They advertise that they will deliver anything, anywhere, anytime. The girl I talked to said they get a lot of unusual jobs. She took the order for our package by phone.”

“No name, I'm sure,” Joe said.

“Right.”

“Could she tell if it was a man or a woman?” Joe asked.

“She thought it was a man, but she wasn't sure. No one ever saw the person who ordered the delivery. The weird part is where they had to pick up the package.”

“Where?” Joe said.

“Muir Woods,” Frank announced.

“The redwood forest? North of the city?” Joe asked.

“That's what the courier said,” Frank answered. “He was directed to a hollow tree in a secluded area of the forest. The package was in there, along with an envelope of cash to pay for the delivery.”

“No check, no credit card,” Joe observed. “Nothing to trace back to the sender.”

Frank grabbed the keys to the van and his beat-up leather jacket. “I'm going to the delivery service office. They're open twenty-four hours. The girl says the courier who brought us the claw is on a run right now, but should be back in about fifteen minutes.”

“Okay, I'll stay here. Cody should be here soon—I'll try to save some food for you.” Joe gave his brother a big grin.

While Joe was combing his hair, he thought he heard a sound in the driveway.

“Cody?” Joe called. “Sergeant Chang?”

Then it was quiet. He heard nothing.

Then another noise caught his attention. It was like a scraping or a scuffling outside.

“Is that you, Frank?” Joe called. “I'm just about—”

Joe's words were cut off by a thunderous pounding on the front door. It felt as if the whole house was vibrating.

“Boy, somebody definitely wants in,” Joe said in a low voice, “or we're having one of San Francisco's famous earthquakes.”

The pounding stopped and it was very quiet.

Joe moved soundlessly to the front door, every nerve alive and alert.

He looked through the peephole but saw nothing.
Slowly, he inched open the front door. A cool wash of foggy evening air sent a chill through him.

At first he saw nothing. Then from beside the door, a man took one step toward him and fell into Joe without a word. “Cody,” the man whispered as he slid to the floor, his jacket smeared with streaks of blood.

10 Two Heads Are Better

Dave Cloud fell against Joe, who tried to catch him, but Dave slipped from his grasp and slumped to the floor. Joe's sweatshirt was streaked with blood where Dave had fallen against him.

Joe knelt next to Dave and took his wrist.

“What happened?” Frank asked, running up the front walk.

“It's Dave,” Joe said. “His pulse seems okay.”

Dave's head rolled from side to side, and his eyes opened. “Hey, Joe,” he mumbled. “What's up?”

Dave sat up and took a deep breath, but before he could say anything, Cody burst up the front walk, too, his arms full of sacks.

Frank and Joe were helping Dave stand. “It's not as
bad as it looks,” Dave said, brushing at his bloodstained jacket.

Cody put down the bags of food and helped the Hardys get Dave into the house and into a chair. “Here. Sit,” he ordered Dave.

“Really, I'm not hurt that bad,” Dave said with a slight smile. While he peeled off his jacket, his expression turned to anger. “It was Brando.”

“Man, that guy is really getting around,” Joe said.

“Look,” Frank interrupted. “While you're talking, I'm going to take you to the hospital. You could be seriously injured.”

Frank stood up and started toward Dave, but Dave stopped him. “Nah, I don't think so,” he said. “I'll be okay. I'll get cleaned up and you'll see. It looks a lot worse than it is.”

Dave rolled up his shirtsleeve to reveal a cut on his forearm. While he washed his wound in the bathroom, Dave told the others what had happened.

“I was getting ready to come over here,” he began. “I thought I heard a noise outside my apartment, but I checked and didn't see anyone. I made a couple of calls, then left. Someone jumped me as I walked to the car.”

“And you're sure it was Mike Brando?” Frank asked.

Dave had a small cut on his chin. He dabbed it with
an ice cube to stop the bleeding. “It was dark,” he finally answered. “So I didn't get a good look at his face, but I'm sure it was Brando.”

“Why?” Joe asked.

“His voice,” Dave answered. “I'd know that sound anywhere.”

Frank flashed back on his encounter with Brando. Dave was right. Brando's voice was different. It was deep and rumbly, like a wildcat's growl.

“What did he say?” Joe asked.

“Not much that made sense,” Dave replied. He dried his hands and dropped the towel on the counter. “He mumbled something about payback and settling scores with old enemies. Oh, and he mentioned your name, Cody.”

“Yeah?” Cody said. “Sent me his best wishes, I'll bet.”

“Not exactly.” Dave gave Cody a crooked smile. “He said to tell you that Skin and Bones is going down—and you and I are going with it. He's angry with me because I was your partner when he was caught.”

“Sorry about that,” Cody said. “You had nothing to do with Brando's troubles.”

“Well, you've heard the old saying about the company you keep,” Dave said with a weak smile. “Just kidding, of course. He still associates me with the business, I guess.”

Cody handed Dave some antiseptic lotion.

“How'd you get that cut?” Frank asked. Dave's arm had stopped bleeding, but it was swollen and looked sore.

“Brando had a knife,” Dave said. “He came right at me with it. I was able to deflect the blow, but he swiped my arm.” Wincing, Dave dabbed some of the antiseptic on the cut, and Cody and Frank bandaged Dave's arm.

“Did you report your attack to the police?” Frank asked.

“Sure,” Dave said. “I stopped at a station on my way over here. I was okay then, but by the time I got here, I was pretty shaky.”

“You lost a lot of blood,” Joe said, looking at Dave's jeans and shirt. “Your clothes are a mess.”

“Come on,” Cody said to Dave. “I'll get you some clean clothes. I've still got stuff here in my old room.”

“No, I'm going home,” Dave said. “This shook me pretty good. I'll talk to you later.”

While Joe changed his blood-smeared sweatshirt for a sweater, Frank and Cody laid out their meal in the dining room—a feast of Mexican favorites.

The three eagerly dug into their dinner. “What a day,” Joe said. “I am so hungry.”

“What about tomorrow?” Cody asked. “I'm going to
have to stay here again tonight. In fact, I have to close the shop for twenty-four hours. The smell's pretty gross. So I'm available to help you dig into my case.”

“We finally have some real leads,” Frank said. He told Cody about what he'd learned from the delivery service. “In fact, that's where I was before Dave got here.”

“Did the courier have any more information to offer?” Joe asked.

Frank reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. “I say we check this out,” he said.

He laid the paper on the table. It was a rough-drawn map in an area of Muir Woods. He pointed to an
X
at the top. “I had the courier draw it for me. This is the tree where he picked up the anteater claw.”

“Yeah, I sort of know where that is,” Cody said. “I mountain bike up in that area.” He hoisted himself up to sit on the counter.

“But isn't Muir Woods a public park?” Joe asked. “Wouldn't somebody see the package and rip it off?”

“There are regular trails,” Cody said. “But there are some very secluded areas in the fringes of the forest, off the public trails. You're not supposed to go there, of course. Most people don't. But if you really know your way around, you could probably pull it off.”

Frank could see that Cody was excited about the
prospect. “It's so dark in there,” Cody added, “even during the daytime. The trees are enormous and block out most of the sunshine. It's still very primitive and wild. There's no real development except for the visitors' center and a few marked trails.”

“We'll go tomorrow,” Frank said.

“Sounds like a plan,” Joe agreed.

“I've got more information,” Frank said. “While I was out, I stopped at the mailing station. The private boxes and lockers are open twenty-four hours a day.

“And?” Cody urged.

“The good news is that I found the locker that matches the tag Joe found,” Frank said.

“Did the combination work?” Joe asked.

“It did,” Frank answered, taking a gulp from his soda.

Then Cody turned to Frank. “So what's the bad news?” he asked.

“There was nothing in the locker but a few scraps of brown paper,” Frank said, dropping the fragments on the table.

Joe turned a couple of them over. They were blank on both sides. “No clues here,” he agreed.

“I did get a look at the locker register,” Frank said, “while the night clerk was busy on a personal phone call. There was no name matched to my locker—only the code b-two-g.”

They all thought about what Frank had said. Finally Joe stood up. “I'm going for ice cubes,” he said. “Speak now if you want anything.”

Joe went to the kitchen. As he walked toward the refrigerator, a movement in the driveway caught his attention.

He walked to the back door and stared out the window. But he could see nothing but the shadowy forms of Sergeant Chang's trimmed hedges and bushes. As he turned toward the refrigerator, a faint noise outside pulled him back to the door.

Joe turned the doorknob on the back door slowly, so it wouldn't make any noise. Behind him he could hear Frank and Cody planning the Muir Woods excursion for the next day.

He stepped out into the cool night and moved toward the direction of the sound he'd heard. It was quiet now, except for the noisy yakking of a Steller's jay high in a eucalyptus tree.

Without making a sound, Joe crept toward the red van. He walked around the drive but saw and heard nothing. He opened the van and put one knee on the driver's seat, so he could lean in and look into the back. It all looked the same as when he and Frank had returned here.

He swung around and sat in the driver's seat. He
checked the visor and the dash. Then he reached for the glove compartment. As he did, a movement on the floor in front of the passenger seat caught the corner of his eye.

Joe froze. Holding his breath, he looked down. Coiled on the floor in a pretzel-like pile beneath his arm was a large, dark, thick snake. Its flat, blunt head rose up out of the pile and began a slow but threatening dance.

11 Another Suspect?

Don't move, Joe told himself. Don't even breathe. His
eyes narrowed as he focused on the coil and the thick clublike end that wove its threats
in the air.

As his gaze intensified, Joe made a startling discovery. This
snake's head had no eyes, no mouth! Joe's breathing started to return in
small sips. That's the tail, he realized. This snake is waving its tail!

Joe knew he still had to get his arm out of the way—and the sooner
the better. With a gasp Joe raised his arm straight up until it hit the top of the
van.