The Case of the Psychic's Vision
Page 12
Mrs. Sullivan stayed where she was, at the back door, staring uncomprehendingly at the incredible performance.
Out of the corner of his eye, Frank saw Mr. Sullivan start to move toward him. It was all right, because Frank was sure that he wouldn’t do anything until his mind allowed him to comprehend what was going on—and that was when the boys would make their move.
Joe and Colin had gone straight to the kitchen, and were looking in the refrigerator.
Frank got to the middle of the kitchen, made eye contact with Joe and Colin, and stopped.
Mr. Sullivan was now at the kitchen door. He slowly began to raise his rifle.
“Now!” Frank shouted.
At that moment, Joe and Colin stood up and started throwing the contents of the refrigerator at Mr. Sullivan. He sank to the floor, covered with mustard, mayonnaise, ketchup, and pickles. Later, they all agreed that it was the big jar of mayonnaise that actually did him in.
With Mr. Sullivan on the floor bleeding from glass cuts, Frank grabbed the rifle, and ran to the front door. He opened it slowly. “This is Frank Hardy! My father is Fenton Hardy!” he shouted. “Mr. Sullivan is down! Mr. Sullivan is down!”
The next few minutes were a blur.
The police swarmed into Mrs. Sullivan’s house and took Mr. Sullivan into custody. At first they were really angry at the boys, but the police officer they had talked to earlier let everyone know that the Hardy boys knew exactly what they were doing and that the West Middlefield Police Department should allow the boys to do their thing.
When they saw all of the commotion, Callie, Iola, and Melanie ran down the street and, seeing the police officers swarming the house and realizing that it was 423, entered the house.
“I knew it! I knew it!” Callie said when she saw Frank. She gave him a playful punch on the shoulder. “We were worried about you guys.”
“We’re fine,” Frank said.
After the police had been assured that Mrs. Sullivan was all right and that the Hardy boys and their friends would help her clean up her house, they left. On their way out, they told her that some other officers would be by later that day to take a statement from her.
Colin took Melanie’s hand and he led her and Mrs. Sullivan into a back room. They were gone for a long time—long enough, in fact, for the Hardys, with Callie and Iola’s help, to clean up the mess they had made in the kitchen.
Two hours later, Colin emerged from the room with Melanie. Mrs. Sullivan wasn’t with them.
“Well?” Callie said.
“I’ll tell you what I think just happened later,” Frank said.
As they started down the street toward the van, Melanie gave them a sly smile, but said nothing.
Joe couldn’t contain himself any longer. “Okay. What happened?” he said. “What’s the story?”
“We’re going to write for a while, maybe talk on the telephone,” Melanie said. “We’re just going to take it easy. It’s been really difficult on both of us.”
“I can’t even imagine!” Iola said.
“Wait, Melanie. You forgot your stuffed lamb!” Callie said. “You left it at Mrs. Sullivan’s house.”
“No, I didn’t forget it. I gave it to her,” Melanie said. “I don’t need it anymore.”
Suddenly, Joe’s skin felt all tingly. He thought he could hear someone talking about Mr. and Mrs. Randles. He looked over at Frank. Frank nodded at him. Joe knew that Frank was experiencing clairaudience, too.
“I’m feeling some energy,” Joe said to Colin. He looked at Melanie. “I think someone has some really good news to tell us!”
Melanie blinked. “We do, but how—”
“Mr. Johnson is going to call Callie’s father and tell him to rehire Colin’s parents,” Frank said. “His whole family may be moving back to Bayport.”
Callie and Iola gasped.
“How did you know that?” Callie said.
Frank and Joe shrugged and gave the girls big grins.
“Maybe you guys won’t need me in your agency after all,” Colin said to the Hardy boys. “You already have two detectives who are psychic!”