“True,” Joe agreed. “But if he wants us off the case so badly, why would he draw attention to himself by throwing the rock? I only missed catching him by about ten seconds.”

  “Good question,” Chet said. “He could have just left us the note under our wiper.”

  “Except that would have lessened the impact,” Joe put in.

  “Ha ha,” Chet said. “Listen, guys, it’s been real fun, but do you think you could drive me home now?”

  “I thought you wanted pizza,” Joe said.

  “I did, but that was before you got your fan mail,” Chet said. “Now I just want to go home, where I know I’m safe from any meteorite showers that might come my way.”

  Frank and Joe dropped Chet off at his home, and the boys arrived at their house shortly after. When they walked in the back door, Aunt Gertrude was sitting at the kitchen table eating takeout Chinese food.

  “It’s in the oven, keeping warm,” she said, catching a glimpse of their hungry expressions. “I thought you would never make it home. It’s almost eight-thirty!”

  “We got held up at the festival,” Frank said, deciding it would be better not to tell her about the rock-throwing incident.

  But Aunt Gertrude was one step ahead of them. While Frank and Joe helped themselves to some food, Aunt Gertrude poured them sodas. “I heard about the robbery,” she said. “I can’t believe people would say such a thing about Chet.”

  “Luckily, Chet was with us at the time,” Joe said. “Otherwise, he might be in big trouble right now.”

  Between bites, Frank told their aunt what he knew about the robbery, finishing with the information that Joe and Chet had found a bag that might have contained the missing money.

  Gertrude’s eyes went wide. “Even though the festival hadn’t officially started, the booths on Park Avenue had a good day with people coming to look at the preparations. Plus, a lot of raffle tickets were sold. My guess is whoever stole the money made off with more than two thousand dollars.” Aunt Gertrude sighed. “Luckily, we’ve got David Kennedy appearing at the closing ceremonies. Even with the robbery, the festival should still raise enough money for Bradford’s trust to continue to support the hospital.”

  Frank swallowed, and said, “Explain to me how the Bradford trust works,” he said.

  “Louis Bradford worked hard for his money,” Aunt Gertrude said. “He was willing to support the hospital but felt the town should do its part as well. As long as the festival raises fifty thousand dollars each year, the Bradford trust will pick up the rest of the tab. Sometimes that runs into the millions.”

  “What happens if the festival doesn’t raise the fifty thousand?” Joe asked.

  “All of Bradford’s millions go to his heirs, whoever they are. Bradford had only one relative anyone knows anything about, a daughter named Dolores. She had a fight with her father years ago and left town. No one has heard from her since.”

  “And if they can’t find this Dolores woman?” Joe asked.

  “The state gets the money,” Aunt Gertrude explained. She smiled and stood up from the table. “I’m sure they wouldn’t mind that one bit! But what would happen to the hospital then? Think of all those children.”

  Frank put a reassuring hand on his aunt’s arm. “Don’t worry,” he said. “Aren’t you the one who’s always saying not to cry over unspilt milk?”

  Gertrude looked puzzled. “Frank, you’ll have to explain yourself a bit better.”

  “One,” Frank said, “we’re going to solve the mystery and get the money back. Two, Bradford’s millions aren’t going anywhere they don’t belong. And three, it’s late, I’m beat, and we’ve got to pick up David Kennedy at the airport first thing tomorrow morning.”

  “In other words?” Aunt Gertrude asked with a smile.

  “In other words,” Joe said, rising from the table, “you’re worrying over nothing.” With that, he kissed his aunt good night.

  • • •

  Overnight an ice storm coated the power lines and tree branches with glittering icicles. As Joe opened his eyes, he caught himself blinking against the bright winter sun. He jumped out of bed, raced into Frank’s room, and pushed his brother to the window. Frank’s eyes widened at the sight of the icicles. “Just in time for the cross-country skiing event this afternoon. The runs should be nice and slick.”

  Downstairs, Aunt Gertrude had sausages, scrambled eggs, and toast on the table. After a quick breakfast, Frank and Joe stood up, ready to head off to the airport to pick up David Kennedy.

  “Oh, I nearly forgot,” Aunt Gertrude said. “Dan Meyers called this morning. He said to tell you the bag you found had nothing in it. Just a few empty envelopes. There weren’t any prints, but he’d like you to stop by his office.”

  Joe checked his watch. “We’ve got time before we head on out to the airport. Frank?”

  “Good idea,” Frank said.

  Joe was excited as Frank loaded his skis into the van. They were on a case, they had an important visitor to look after, and the festival was heading into high gear. What more could he ask for? “Should we stop by to pick up Chet?” Joe asked his brother as he started the car. “He’s dying to meet David Kennedy.”

  “He called just before I left the house,” Frank told Joe. “He says he’s too down to come to the festival today.”

  “Wow, that’s not like Chet,” Joe said.

  “I know,” Frank said, nodding. “But I have a feeling that until we catch the real thief, Chet isn’t going to be his usual chipper self. He thinks everyone will be pointing fingers at him and calling him a thief.”

  The roads were icy, so Joe took it easy. When they reached the park, the brightly colored banners, the sounds of laughter and sleigh bells gave it a festive air. After Joe found a parking place, he and Frank hurried toward the rec hall. The boys crossed the huge expanse of wooden floor to a door at the back. It opened into a narrow hall where the festival committee had its offices. The door to the security office stood open.

  When Joe knocked, Dan Meyers looked up. “Come in. Have a seat, boys,” he said. For a long moment, Meyers studied them thoughtfully. Then he smiled to reveal a row of crooked teeth. “Finding that bag was good work,” he said finally.

  “Thanks,” Frank said. “Too bad there weren’t any prints on it.”

  “If we coordinate our efforts, we should be able to wrap this case up in no time,” Meyers said.

  Meyers opened a desk drawer and pulled out two badges and handed them to the boys. “These should make your job easier. Report any clue you turn up directly to me.”

  “Thanks!” Joe said, thrilled to find Meyers had changed his attitude toward them.

  The phone on Meyers’s desk rang. Meyers nodded at the boys and went to pick it up. Joe took this as a cue that he and Frank should leave. When Frank and Joe were outside in the hall, Joe pulled the badge from his pocket and shined it on his sleeve. “What do you think made Meyers change his mind?” he asked.

  “Who knows?” Frank said with a chuckle. “But let’s run with it.”

  Frank and Joe hurried out of the rec hall and headed back to the parking lot. There wasn’t much time before they were supposed to meet David Kennedy.

  Bayport’s airport was just inside the city limits, and it took only ten minutes to reach it. They parked the van and headed inside the terminal. Kennedy’s plane wasn’t due for another twenty minutes. When they got to the gate, the Hardys found a loud, bustling crowd. The area was crammed with TV crews and photographers, all jostling for position.

  “I can’t believe Kennedy brings out the media like this, even in a small town like Bayport,” Frank said. “There are crews here all the way from New York City. Can’t blame Kennedy for wanting to keep away from all this.”

  By the time Kennedy’s plane landed, the crowd had swelled. It completely blocked the area in front of the gate. Joe started to worry. It was their job to help Kennedy avoid the media, but how were they going to get him past this crowd?

  Frank must have guessed what was on Joe’s mind. The older Hardy was craning his neck and starting to push toward the gate. “Looks like we’re going to need a suit of armor to get through this crowd,” Frank said. “Got any ideas?”

  “I think I do,” Joe said. He pulled the badge that Meyers had given him out of his pocket. “Maybe these will help.” He attached the badge to his jacket, and Frank put on his as well.

  “Nice going,” Frank said with a smile. “Let’s try to get closer.”

  As Kennedy and his coach stepped into the gate area, cameras started whirring and flashing. The media pressed forward, asking questions and poking microphones in Kennedy’s face.

  Kennedy gave a brief interview. While he spoke, he pushed back his curly dark hair and gazed at the reporters with his intense blue eyes. Frank noticed he looked impatient and a little bit bored. When Kennedy finished, he looked anxiously around.

  “Over here!” Joe called out, pushing his way to Kennedy’s side. Frank was right behind. “We’re your drivers,” Joe said. “I’m Joe Hardy. This is my brother, Frank.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Kennedy looked relieved. “Now get me out of here.”

  Ivan Petrovich, Kennedy’s coach, fended off the reporters while Frank and Joe escorted the star through the airport. They quickly loaded Kennedy’s luggage into the van and whisked him into the backseat.

  “I’m glad that’s over,” Kennedy said as they pulled out of the parking lot.

  “Is it like this wherever you go?” Joe asked.

  “Always,” Kennedy said, letting out a long sigh. “I hate it!”

  “Let’s not forget that all the media attention gives you worldwide recognition,” Petrovich said. “And that’s good for your career.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” David said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I don’t want recognition, I just want to skate.”

  “But your fans—” Petrovich began.

  “If I have to sign one more autograph, I think my hand is going to fall off,” David said, interrupting his coach. Clearly, the skater had had enough of fame, Frank thought.

  On the way to the hotel, Joe took Kennedy’s mind off the media by telling him about the festival. The young skater’s face lit up as they talked about the various sporting events.

  “That sounds like a lot of fun,” Kennedy said. “Would you guys mind if I tagged along?”

  “That would be great,” Joe said. “But aren’t you afraid of being mobbed by the crowd?”

  “Not if they don’t recognize me,” Kennedy said. With that, he pulled a red baseball cap from his pocket and settled it in place. “With this cap on, and minus my costume, I look like just another John Doe. It’s my version of an optical illusion.”

  Joe looked in the rearview mirror and was amazed at the transformation. Gone was the intense blue-eyed David Kennedy. In his place was an ordinary teenager with an awkward smile.

  “How do I look?” David asked.

  “Like any old kid,” Joe confirmed.

  But Ivan Petrovich bristled. “David, I don’t know why you are planning all this fun and games. You know you need to rest. You have a press conference at noon and a practice session later today. We have a schedule to keep.”

  “Well, I just added something to the schedule,” Kennedy said. “I’m going to the festival.”

  Ivan looked troubled as they pulled up in front of the hotel. “Don’t worry, we’ll keep an eye on him,” Joe said.

  Petrovich took one last look at David and waved his finger at him in warning. “Don’t do anything foolish. You need to be in top form for the closing ceremonies.”

  “Aye, aye,” David said, giving the coach a mock salute under his cap. “Now let’s get going,” he said to Frank and Joe, “Before Ivan decides to lock me up in my hotel room.”

  The boys left the van at the hotel and walked the two blocks to the park. When they reached Park Avenue, icicles as long as three or four feet hung from the overhangs in front of the shops. David laughed and joked with the Hardys as they strolled along, sampling treats from the booths. At the end of a block they found the ice-sculpting competition under way. Joe thought the one of a bald eagle, with wings spread and talons poised, was the best. Frank preferred the bigger-than-life one of Abe Lincoln, including tails and top hat.

  The boys were about to leave the demonstration when Joe spotted Craig Thompson standing at a nearby booth. Before Joe could react, Thompson launched two rock-hard snowballs in quick succession.

  “Look out!” Joe cried, ducking.

  The snowballs missed Frank, Joe, and David, and thumped against the roof of the booth. The icicles hanging there jittered from the blow. Joe stood up and raised his fist at Thompson, sure that the danger was over. But Frank yanked on Joe’s arm and dragged him back down.

  “What’s the matter?” Joe started to say.

  Just then, a ten-foot section of icicles broke loose, dropping a shower of needle-sharp missiles that were coming straight at them!

  5 Hit and Run

  * * *

  “Watch out!” Frank yelled, dragging Joe away from the icicles. As he did he pushed Kennedy out of the way, toward the street. The icicles hit the sidewalk just beyond them, shattering into a thousand sharp pieces.

  The air filled with the sounds of excited voices and footsteps as people hurried to the scene.

  Frank glanced at David, who looked shaken. “Are you okay?” Frank asked.

  Before David could answer, Frank heard a shriek from down the block.

  “Stop, thief!” a woman shouted.

  Frank looked down the street in time to see a man running away from a booth selling hand-knitted sweaters. He was built like Chet, wore a maroon jacket, and had a white ski mask pulled down over his face.

  “The robber!” Joe cried. “Hurry!”

  “What robber?” Kennedy asked, perplexed. But Frank and Joe were already halfway down the block.

  Frank’s heart was pounding from the cold and the excitement. They were this close to catching the thief!

  Joe was in the lead and gaining when the thief darted into a narrow alley. A moment later, Joe and Frank trailed him into the alley.

  “It’s empty!” Joe cried, stopping short in frustration.

  “Look!” Frank pointed to the other end of the alley, which opened onto a larger walkway backing the shops along Park Avenue. “Come on!”

  When the Hardys reached the walkway, Frank looked to his right, then his left. This alley ran the length of the block and opened onto the street at each end. There hadn’t been time for the man to reach either end yet, but no one was in sight.

  “He must have gone in the back door of one of the shops,” Joe suggested.

  “Probably,” Frank said, panting from the chase. “But which one?”

  Frank raced to the first door on his right and tried it. It was locked. He was headed toward the second door when David Kennedy came into the alley.

  “We lost him!” Joe shouted. “But we think he must have gone in one of these doors. Check the other side of the alley, Frank.”

  Quickly Frank checked the doors on the left, while Joe and David tried all the doors on the right. “They’re all locked,” Frank said.

  “So are these,” Joe answered. “What now?”

  “If he went through one of the shops, he’s probably back on Park Avenue,” Frank said.

  “But how’d he get in?” Joe pointed out. “All these doors are locked.”

  “Good point. Let’s see if he’s reappeared out on the street,” Frank said.

  Kennedy tailed along as the Hardys hurried back down the alley. The Hardys quickly explained to him that there’d been a robbery the night before, and that they’d been assigned to the security force. When they stepped onto Park Avenue, Frank scanned the milling crowd. He didn’t see anyone answering the description of the thief.

  “Where’d he go?” Joe asked. “Do you think he’s still hiding in one of the shops?”

  “There’s only one way to find out,” Frank said. “Let’s split up. Why don’t you start at that end of the block? I’ll take this end.”

  Kennedy’s eyes widened. “Can I go with Joe? This is exciting.”

  Frank’s mouth spread in a wide smile. “I don’t see why not.”

  Frank worked his way along the block, checking out every shop. No luck. None of the owners or shopkeepers had seen anyone rushing through their store from the back walkway toward Park Avenue. Frank was down to one last store, Leona Turner’s gift shop. The shop was empty, but Frank heard a man and a woman talking in the back.

  “Be right with you,” Leona called.

  Frank glanced around the shelves of her shop while he waited. They were nearly bare, he noticed, as if she couldn’t afford to stock them. Finally, Leona pushed a curtain aside and entered the shop. “Thanks for waiting,” she said. “What can I do for you?”

  “One of the booths at the festival was robbed,” Frank said.

  “Which one?” Leona asked, a worried expression on her face. “When?”

  “The sweater booth. Five, ten minutes ago,” Frank said.

  “That’s Betty’s booth!” Leona cried out.

  “Did a man come through your back door just now?” Frank asked.

  “You don’t really think the thief passed through here, do you?” Leona asked, shocked.

  “It’s possible,” Frank said. “Mind if I have a look in your back room, in case he’s hiding?”

  Leona squared her shoulders, standing every inch of her five feet ten. “I certainly do mind. What’s back there is none of your business.” Leona looked flustered as she glanced at her watch. It was gold, decorated with onyx and diamonds. Frank remembered seeing one like it at the mall when he was shopping for a birthday present for his mother. He couldn’t remember exactly how much it cost, but he knew it was expensive.

  “I’d better go over to the festival to make sure Betty’s all right,” Leona said. “You’ll have to leave with me. I’m going to close the shop for a few minutes.”