The Case of the Psychic's Vision (10 page)

Colin thought for a minute. “You know something—my parents probably won't be home until late, because they've been putting in long hours at Mr. Shaw's hardware store. So if you could drop me there, that would be great. I can go ahead and talk to them about this now. I just want to get it off my chest. I already feel bad about the trouble I've caused.”

“We can do that,” Frank said, “but you shouldn't feel bad about anything, Colin.”

“You're not the one who's causing the trouble,” Joe added. “You were just trying to let Melanie Johnson know what happened to her when she was a little girl.”

“I'm still getting those strong feelings, guys. I got them last night when I was looking at her eyes,” Colin said. “I felt them today in school when I was walking down the hall. Melanie was probably nearby. They're strong enough now that I don't even have to touch her.”

They rode in silence for another ten minutes until they reached Shaw's Hardware Store. Just as they parked in front, a police car pulled up behind them. Two officers jumped out and ran into the hardware store.

“I don't feel good about this,” Colin said. Wincing from pain, he jumped out of the van and ran after the police officers. Frank and Joe followed.

Inside, several kids were milling around at the rear of the store. Frank recognized them as high school friends of Melanie Johnson.

“Mom! Dad!” Colin called. “What's going on?”

Several of the kids looked up, pointed at Colin, and started laughing. He ignored them and so did the Hardy boys.

While the police officers talked to Mr. Randles, Mrs. Randles hurried over, tears in her eyes, and
grabbed Colin. “Oh, Colin, what is this all about? What kind of trouble are you in?”

“I'm not in trouble, Mom,” Colin assured her. “I'm not.” He looked at the Hardys for help.

Frank gave her a quick, but thorough—and for the moment reassuring—explanation.

“What are these kids doing here, Mom?” Colin asked. “This is not exactly where you'd expect to find a lot of high school students.”

“They've been in and out all day, and they've been robbing us blind, too,” Mrs. Randles whispered. “We finally decided to call the police. We didn't do it earlier, because we didn't want any trouble.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “This is a perfect job for me and my husband, and we can do it, too,” she said to the Hardys. “We don't want Mr. Shaw to think we can't. But this . . .” She waved her hand toward the back of the store where Melanie's friends were standing around, giggling.

Joe could tell that Colin was seething. He wasn't going to let these punks do this to his parents. Just as Colin started for the back of the store, Joe grabbed his arm. “It's not worth it, Colin. You can't win this. The police are here now. Let them take care of it.”

After a few minutes, the police officers told the teenagers to leave. They sauntered out, making sure they came by where Colin and the Hardy boys were standing.

“Your parents are in serious trouble. You don't accuse somebody of shoplifting if you can't prove it,” one of the kids said to Colin. “But don't worry. Our lawyers will take care of it.”

He and his friends burst into laughter.

When the last teenager was out of the store, Colin opened his mouth to say something—but his mother started crying, so he hugged her close to him and let her put her head on his shoulder.

“It's all my fault, Mom. It's all my fault,” he said. “I should never have said what I did, but I thought Melanie Johnson would want to know that she had been kidnapped.”

Mr. Randles had walked the police officers to the front door and was now headed back to where the Hardy boys were standing with Colin and his mother.

Mrs. Randles looked up, wiped her eyes, and said, “Are they going to do anything?”

Mr. Randles shook his head. “We didn't catch any of them in the act,” he said. “So we can't prove it.”

“Is that all the police said, Dad?” Colin asked.

“Well, that's all they
said,
” Mr. Randles replied. He got a disgusted look on his face. “But I got the distinct impression that these were kids the police are used to letting off with a slap on the wrist.”

“You're probably right,” Frank said. “At school, most of them are usually hanging around Melanie Johnson.”

“She evidently gets them to do her dirty work,” Joe added.

“I don't remember anything like this happening before,” Frank said. “Usually, the different groups at school get along very well—or at least they tolerate each other.”

“That was before I arrived on the scene,” Colin said, “and disrupted Melanie Johnson's nice, secure little world.”

“You know, you may have something there, Colin,” Frank said. “This looks like a case of overreaction to me. I think you've touched a nerve. I think you're telling the Johnsons something they don't want to hear.”

“Please don't encourage him, Frank,” Mr. Randles pleaded. “We're trying to get Colin to suppress his psychic abilities and ignore the messages he receives.”

“Can you do that?” Joe asked.

“If you don't follow up on things, if you just ignore them, then yes,” Mrs. Randles said, “you can make yourself less psychic. Colin knows the trouble his visions cause the family.”

Mr. Randles looked at his watch. “Two hours before we close. We've got work to do. Colin, could you spare some time? We need to take inventory. I want to find out exactly what those kids stole from us today.”

“Sure, Dad,” Colin said. He turned to Frank and
Joe. “Thanks for the ride. You guys are great. I know I have two good friends here in Bayport.”

“Could you use a couple of extra workers?” Frank asked. “We'd be free labor.”

“We couldn't do that,” Mrs. Randles said. “You've already wasted too much of your time with us.”

“It's not a waste, Mrs. Randles,” Joe said. “We'd like to help.”

“Well, it would go faster with two more people to help us count,” Mr. Randles said.

“Then we're hired!” Joe said.

That made everyone laugh.

Mrs. Randles gave them all inventory sheets, and they set about counting the items on the list.

They had been working for about an hour when the front door opened, and Callie's father came in. He wasn't smiling, and Frank knew that the Randles were about to hear some more bad news.

“Hello, Mr. Shaw,” Mr. Randles said, trying to keep his voice as steady as possible. “We're doing a little inventory. Just a minor problem.”

Mr. Shaw took a deep breath. “Well, maybe not so minor,” he said.

“What do you mean?” Colin asked.

Mr. Shaw looked at Colin then back at his parents.

“I got a telephone call from the bank a few minutes ago. Mr. Johnson's bank,” Mr. Shaw said. “He told me that I might start having trouble with my loans, and I've made a lot of them, because of
some urban renewal projects I'm involved in. Mr. Johnson gave me a lot of banker's talk, not all of which I understood—but I did understand one thing. He let me know one way I could keep from having any problems.”

“What was that?” Frank asked.

“I have to fire Mr. and Mrs. Randles,” Mr. Shaw said.

“I understand, Mr. Shaw,” Mr. Randles said. “You're just doing what you have to do.”

“No, he's not!” Colin shouted. “He's caving under the worst kind of pressure.”

“Colin! Stop it!” Mrs. Randles said. She turned to Mr. Shaw. “We all have to do what we have to do. My husband and I understand.”

The Hardy boys looked at each other, wondering if they could say something to Mr. Shaw that would make him change his mind. In the end, they decided that Mr. Johnson was a more formidable foe than they had realized, and would do anything to get even with people who didn't leave him and his family alone.

“I'm sorry,” Mr. Shaw said. “I really am.”

With that, he turned and left the hardware store.

Everyone stood around for several minutes, wondering what they should do first. Looking at his watch, Mr. Randles said, “It's closing time. I'll make out the night deposit, drop that by the bank—Mr. Johnson's bank—and then we'll go on home.”

Later, when the Hardy boys were on their way home, Joe said, “I'm really disappointed in Callie's dad. I never expected something like this from him.”

“We may not know the whole story, Joe,” Frank countered. “Sometimes people get themselves in over their heads. I know Mr. Shaw has been investing a lot in the urban renewal of downtown Bayport. He may have gotten himself so much in debt that Mr. Johnson can pull any strings he wants to pull.”

“That's never going to happen to me,” Joe announced. “I'm going to be on top of any investments I make.”

“I'm sure Mr. Shaw thought the same thing,” Frank said.

When they pulled into their driveway, they saw Mr. Hardy's car.

“I'm glad Dad's home,” Joe said. “We need to let him know what just happened with the Randles.”

“He won't be surprised, I'm sure,” Frank said. “I got the feeling last night that he had plans to check into Mr. Johnson's business operations. Dad was
really angry about how the Johnsons acted last night.”

Mrs. Hardy and Aunt Gertrude had just finished setting the table for dinner, so Frank and Joe washed up and joined everyone.

“I'm starved,” Joe said. “This looks really good.”

“Of course it does,” Aunt Gertrude told him. “What did you expect?”

It was obvious to Frank that Aunt Gertrude was in one of her “moods,” so the best thing was to change the subject—even if it meant giving them the disappointing news about the Randles.

Frank detailed the events that took place at Mr. Shaw's hardware store.

“I'm sure Melanie put her friends up to it,” Joe said. “They were having a really good time, making the Randles' lives miserable.”

“Unfortunately, making some people unhappy is often what makes other people happy,” Aunt Gertrude observed. “I don't understand what's going on in the minds of people like that.”

“I don't either,” Mrs. Hardy agreed.

Mr. Hardy didn't comment, but he looked pensive.

“Can we do anything about it, Dad?” Frank asked. “Will the Randles have to move?”

“I'm discovering that Mr. Johnson is a more powerful man than I had realized,” Mr. Hardy said. “He has quietly been buying up a lot of property in and around downtown Bayport. He is more or less dictating what's going to happen down there.”

“I spoke to Colin on the phone just before dinner. He told me that the Randles are planning to move to New York City tomorrow,” Joe said. “They don't see any future in Bayport.”

“Unfortunately, I have to agree with them,” Mr. Hardy said. “That disappoints me too. Things like this shouldn't be happening.”

There wasn't much conversation after that. Everyone's thoughts seemed to be on what they could do to help the Randles, but by the end of the meal no one had offered a plan.

After dinner, Joe called Colin again. He thought maybe just talking to him would let the whole family know that the Hardys were still their friends.

Colin told Joe that Mr. Randles had already rented a trailer, and that they were packing their belongings. “We should be ready to leave by dawn. Mom and Dad don't want to stay in Bayport any longer than they have to. We'll call the school for our transfers once we get to New York.”

“Is there anything Frank and I can do?” Joe asked.

Colin thought for a minute. “Well, it's going to be a tight fit, because we couldn't afford the biggest trailer—so your van would really come in handy,” he said. “Since it's the weekend, maybe you and Frank could come along. It'd be nice to have some company.”

“We're in,” Joe said.

After he hung up, Joe told Frank that he had offered to help the Randles move.

“Good idea,” Frank said. “We need to get some more information from Colin anyway.”

“More information?” Joe said. “About what?”

“You don't think we're just going to let this drop, do you?” Frank said. “The more I think about Colin's visions of Melanie, the more I'm convinced that this kidnapping did take place. Don't you think that, the way Mr. Johnson is overreacting about this whole thing? I certainly do.”

“You may be right, Frank,” Joe said. “Some people would have just laughed it off. They might have gotten a
little
irritated, but they wouldn't do what Mr. Johnson did.”

“Unless he's basically a really mean person,” Frank added, “but then I think that part of his personality would have shown itself before now.”

Joe nodded. “Maybe he's scared, Frank,” he said. “Maybe he knows that Colin is telling the truth.”

The Hardy boys had a renewed determination to solve this mystery. Mr. Johnson may have been successful in forcing the Randles to leave Bayport, but he wouldn't have the same luck with stopping the Hardys from investigating.

The next morning, Frank and Joe were up and out of the house before dawn. They left their parents a note, telling them they were using their van to help the Randles move to New York. The boys
knew that if their parents needed anything, they could reach Frank and Joe by cell phone.

“We'll never forget what you boys have done for us,” Mrs. Randles told Frank and Joe. “You're the people we'll remember when we think of Bayport.”

“That sounds so final, Mrs. Randles,” Joe said. “Don't you ever want us to visit you in New York?”

“Of course we do. Of course,” Mrs. Randles hastened to add. “It's just that, well . . .”

When she trailed off, Colin said, “It's just that in all the other places we've lived, people have been glad to see us go.”