Free Cult of Crime by Franklin W. Dixon Page A

doubt in her eyes, and Joe softened. She’s not to blame. There’s no reason to yell at her.
    “That’s just the way he was,” he said gently. “He knew you were in trouble and he came to help.”
    She smiled. “You’re a lot like him. Not in the way you walk or dress, of course. He was quieter than you are, and a lot less physical. But both of you believe in the same things, don’t you?”
    “Yes, I guess we do,” Joe said. “Or did. Look, I’d rather not talk about Frank anymore. Not until I have to explain to Mom and Dad.” “So what do you want to talk about?”
    “I’d like to sleep,” Joe replied, “but if you want to talk, then let’s talk about you.” …… “Me?” Holly said in surprise. “I’m … there’s nothing to talk about.”
    She’s hiding something, Joe realized suddenly. It was in the way her voice trembled, the way she wrapped her arms tightly around herself. “Let’s talk about the Rajah, then,” he said, playing a hunch.
    “What about him?” Holly asked coldly, and he knew he was on the right track. She didn’t want to talk about the Rajah.
    He had to coax the information out of her. How would Frank have handled this? He wondered. He smiled and bent his head so she would not see. When he raised his head again, his expression was bland, as if he weren’t really interested in their conversation.
    “What made you run to the Rajah?” he asked.
    Her relief at his question was noticeable, but there was still a darkness in her eyes and a chill in her voice that bothered Joe. “My father,” she said slowly. “I had to get away from my father.”
    “Why?” Joe asked. “He seems like a nice enough guy to me. Did he hit you?”
    “No. He never laid a hand on me. He never even touched me. That was the problem.”
    “I don’t understand.”
    Holly’s eyes flashed angrily. “You’ve got a family! You hug, don’t you? You do things together, like a family should.” “Sure.”
    “We didn’t. My father and I, I mean. Not since Mom died. He didn’t love me much before that, but afterward, he never had time for me. I didn’t even see him at meals.
    “It was like he didn’t want me there. Like he wanted me to vanish, to be a non-person. There’s nothing worse you can do to somebody, Joe. Nothing!
    “Nothing,” she repeated softly, then she started to cry again. He stood and pulled her to him, hugging her. She clung to him like a child, and after a few minutes, her sobs quieted.
    “That explains why you left home,” he said gently. “But how did you, get hooked up with the cult?”
    She pulled away from him, suspicious again. “You’re working for my father, aren’t you? He’s the one who sent you.”
    “No. He sent our dad. You know him. Fenton Hardy, the detective. He couldn’t do anything for you, so we decided to give it a shot.” “So you are working for my father.”
    Joe shook his head. “He doesn’t know what we were doing. Neither does our father. We did it for you, not them. So why don’t you trust me?”
    “Why should I?” She turned away, arms wrapped around herself. “I trusted Frank. But he’s gone now. Why did he have to go?”
    “Blame it on the Rajah!” Joe shouted. “He sent his goons after us.” Joe calmed himself down. “Look, I’ll tell you everything I know. When I was in the Rajah’s‘ home, I heard him talking about big plans. You were at the center of them.” Holly gasped. “Me? What do you mean? How could I-?” “I don’t know,” Joe replied. “That’s why you’ve got to talk.” She stared at him for along time. At last she said, All right.
    “It was horrible,” she began. “I had to leave home. I couldn’t stay there anymore. But I had nowhere to go. My mother had left me some money, so I took it with me. I thought I could live off it for a long time, if I was careful.
    “I went to New York. My father probably didn’t even notice. By the end of my first day, I had found a cheap hotel to live in.