Free A Killing in the Market by Franklin W. Dixon Page B

brushed-chrome commuter train disappeared into the tunnel.
    "What do we do now?" Joe asked.
    His question was answered by the track announcer's next words: "Three-thirty train for Kirkland now boarding. Track Twelve. All aboard!"
    "Come on, Joe!" Frank said. "Kirkland's close to Bayport. We can catch a lift from there."
    They ran back up the stairs and followed the crowd to Track 12. This time they were early for the train and grabbed two seats in a rear car.
    As the train pulled out of the station, Frank looked out the window and drummed his fingers on his armrest. "I hope we're not too late," he said. Worry showed in his eyes.
    Joe nodded. "I can just see the headlines: 'Commuter Shooter: Murder on the Bridgefield Express.' "
    "They'll probably wait to nail Clifton until after they reach Bayport," Frank stated objectively.
    "Sure, go ahead and be logical," Joe retorted.
    The brothers fell into a gloomy silence as the train chugged through the tunnel. Their aunt Gertrude had spent the night and most of that day in jail, and the man who could help them get her out was riding on a train into a deathtrap.
     
    ***
     
    "Thanks, Chet." Frank patted their friend Chet Morton on the shoulder as his car pulled up beside the Hardy van at the Bayport train station. Joe was already halfway out the door. "Call you later with the whole story."
    As Frank climbed into the van's passenger seat, Joe was already shifting into first.
    The van sped out onto the highway that ran beside the train tracks. "At least nothing happened at the station," Joe said as they ate up the road. In a few minutes they passed a sign that said Entering Cliffside Heights. Joe turned off the highway and drove through lazy, winding side streets. The houses here were larger and farther apart than the ones in the rest of Bayport, and each lawn seemed to be tended by a professional gardener.
    "Do you remember the address Officer Riley mentioned for Mrs. Simone?" Joe asked. "Wasn't it Archer Street?"
    Frank thought back. "Yeah. Four seventy-seven."
    Joe turned onto Archer Street, while Frank looked out the window at the house numbers. "Hey, slow down!" Frank said. "There it is!"
    Joe pulled the van in front of a large white colonial with a bay window. A manicured lawn sloped up to it, and a gravel driveway cut beside it to a three-car garage in back.
    "Whew, a family could live in that garage," Joe remarked. "Alexandra Simone must be doing well."
    Frank raced to the front door and pounded on it. "Mrs. Simone!" he called out. "It's Frank and Joe Hardy!"
    Joe was still coming up the drive as the door was swung open by Alexandra Simone. "What's all this commotion, guys? I have a doorbell," she said.
    "Look, we're sorry, but have you heard from Clifton? We lost him at the — "
    "You lost me?" a voice behind Mrs. Simone said. "I'm the one who made the train!"
    Frank's face brightened. "You made it! We thought that — "
    Clifton nodded. "I picked up your hand gestures just fine. Besides, I'd had my eye on those two drones when they got on the train."
    "What did you do? They were armed!"
    "No kidding. The stop before Bayport, I got up and headed between the cars. When they followed me, I got the drop on them, took their guns, and locked them in one of the rest rooms." He grinned. "I even put a sign on it—Out of Order. They'll probably be in Bridgefield before they get loose. And I called the cops to meet them there."
    Frank smiled. "Very neat."
    At that moment they were interrupted by the sudden ringing of the phone.
    "I'll get it," Mrs. Simone said, running into the kitchen.
    Frank watched her leave and then turned to Clifton. "Did you tell her about the scarf?" he asked.
    Clifton shook his head. "No, but I'm about to."
    "Good, because we really should get back to the station house. Our poor aunt is probably going out of her mind."
    "Clifton, it's for you!" came Mrs. Simone's voice from the kitchen. "It's urgent."
    "Look, you go and take care of your aunt. I'll handle this