Skin and Bones

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Skin and Bones Page 1

by Franklin W. Dixon




  A Stranger in the Shadows

  Joe climbed up until he could see over the edge of the roof. Through the darkness, he could make out someone kneeling in the shadow of the chimney.

  Joe felt all his muscles tighten as he boosted himself up on to the roof. Crouching, he crept toward the kneeling figure. He held his breath as he moved nearer.

  “Joe! What are you doing up there?”

  When he heard Cody’s voice from below, Joe was distracted for just a second, but that was one second too long. In a single fluid movement, the person beside the chimney stood up, wheeled around, and kicked.

  Pain washed over Joe as the kick caught him in the stomach. Unable to catch his breath, he crumpled to the roof.

  Joe gasped for air, then pushed himself to his feet. But his attacker had already scrambled down the fire escape and disappeared into the bushy woods behind the house.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any re semblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is en tirely coincidental.

  A MINSTREL PAPERBACK Original

  A Minstrel Book published by

  POCKET BOOKS, a division of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

  1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

  www.SimonandSchuster.com

  Copyright © 2000 by Simon & Schuster, Inc.

  Front cover illustration by Jeff Walker

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address Pocket Books, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

  ISBN: 0-671-04761-2

  ISBN 13: 978-0-7434-3723-3 (ebook)

  First Minstrel Books printing November 2000

  THE HARDY BOYS MYSTERY STORIES is a trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

  THE HARDY BOYS, A MINSTREL BOOK and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

  Contents

  * * *

  Chapter 1: A Nasty Surprise

  Chapter 2: Roof Rage

  Chapter 3: An Enemy Is Loose!

  Chapter 4: Clang, Clang . . . Crunch!

  Chapter 5: The Suspect Slips

  Chapter 6: Ride to the Rescue

  Chapter 7: Busting Out

  Chapter 8: The Clue in the Claw

  Chapter 9: A Bloody Visit

  Chapter 10: Two Heads Are Better

  Chapter 11: Another Suspect?

  Chapter 12: The Skull in the Forest

  Chapter 13: A Werewolf Warning

  Chapter 14: Fear in the Fog

  Chapter 15: Rock On!

  1 A Nasty Surprise

  * * *

  A hollow click-clack sounded above Frank Hardy as he pushed open the door to the shop. Eighteen-year-old Frank, who was six feet, one inch tall, felt something brush the top of his dark brown hair.

  “Cody doesn’t miss a trick,” Frank’s brother, Joe, said with a grin. His blue eyes focused on the bones hanging over Frank’s head. Joe was an inch shorter and a year younger than his brother.

  Frank reached up and tapped the mobile hanging above the doorway. Narrow white bones dangled on clear plastic cords from a small skull with hollow eye sockets.

  The Hardys stepped inside the San Francisco shop called Skin & Bones and put down their travel bags.

  “Hey, guys, you made it.” Cody Chang strode across the room to greet the Hardys. He was twenty-four years old, with black spiky hair. He had a wide smile, and his dark brown eyes flashed with pride as he swung an arm in a wide sweeping motion. “So what do you think? Pretty cool, eh?”

  “Who buys this stuff, anyway?” Joe asked as he pushed his blond hair back and leaned over a display case. Through the glass he saw bird claws curved into deadly points, twisting tubes of shed snake skin, and shiny, bright-colored fish fins.

  “Artists, teachers, doctors,” Cody answered, looking around the shop. Several people were poring over displays in cases and on the walls. “Some people use them for decorations and crafts. You’d be amazed. Excuse me for a minute.” He stepped away to help a customer.

  A couple of minutes later the click-clack of the bones mobile announced another visitor to the shop.

  “Hey, Dad,” Cody said, raising a hand in greeting to his father. Frank noticed the affectionate smiles that the Changs exchanged. He knew that Cody and his father had become very close after Cody’s mother had died, ten years ago.

  “Sergeant Chang,” Frank said, walking over with Cody to greet the short stocky man. “Great to see you. Our dad was really sorry he couldn’t make this trip with us.”

  “Not as sorry as I am, I’m sure,” Thomas Chang said, greeting the Hardys. “It would have been great to talk over old times with Fenton. The last time you were here Cody hadn’t opened Skin and Bones, had he? Isn’t it something?”

  “It sure is,” Joe said. He was examining one of the skeletons hanging behind the counter.

  “Wait till you see the rest of this place,” Cody said. “I live on the second floor, but the real fun’s up on the third. That’s where my lab is.” Cody’s eyes sparkled as if he had a wonderful secret.

  “You’re still planning to stay at my house, I trust,” Sergeant Chang said to the Hardys. “The guest room and refrigerator are waiting for you.”

  “You bet,” Frank said. “And thanks for the invitation.”

  “Did you rent a car?” Cody asked.

  “No,” Joe answered, coming over to shake hands with Mr. Chang. “We took the Airporter into town and cabbed over here.”

  “Exactly why I stopped by,” Mr. Chang said. “I just got a new car, but I haven’t sold my van yet. You can use it while you’re here—if you want. I figured you two might like some wheels while you’re in town.”

  “Totally cool,” Joe said, taking the keys for the house and van.

  The four chatted until Sergeant Chang’s partner picked him up, and Frank and Joe decided to take off to get settled in, clean up, and change clothes.

  “Okay, get out of here,” Cody said, walking them to the door. “Say, would you guys like to meet me at the zoo? Two-thirty at the snack bar. I have to pick up a package there.”

  The boys agreed, and after getting directions to the zoo, took off for Sergeant Chang’s in the van. “This reminds me of our van,” Joe said, turning to check it out. “Except it’s red, of course.”

  The Hardys had stayed at Mr. Chang’s comfortable small home on the west side of town in the Sunset District before. They changed into jeans, T-shirts, and sweaters before heading out to meet Cody.

  At about two-thirty Frank had parked the van and was wandering with Joe through the zoo toward the snack bar. Cody was waiting for them at one of the small tables. His brow was wrinkled as he gazed into the distance.

  “Hey, guys,” Cody greeted them. “It’s about time. I’m starved. I haven’t had lunch yet.” The three walked up to the snack bar window. “So, did you get all settled in?” Cody asked as he ordered a burger and fries. The Hardys ordered a shake each because they’d already eaten.

  “Sure did,” Joe said. “And it’s great to have the van.”

  “We have some time to kill,” Cody said as he gathered up his lunch. “My package won’t be ready until four or so. Let’s hang out for a while.”

  The young men took seats on a bench in front of the orangutans. The male orang lolled in a hammock, his huge body practically dragging on the dusty ground below. A rust red baby orang darted out from behind a tree, batting a ball around the play yard.

  “So, what’s in this mysterious package you’re picking up?” Joe asked.

  Cody didn’t answer.

  “Earth to Cody,” Joe said. “Co
me in.”

  “Hmm? What?” Cody said. “Oh, sorry. Did you say something?”

  “I asked what’s in the package you’re picking up,” Joe said.

  “Stuff for the store,” Cody answered in a matter-of-fact way. “An ostrich skeleton, a couple of anaconda skins, a zebra skull, and the real prize—anteater claws.”

  “Do you get all your merchandise from zoos?” Frank wondered, shooing a sea gull away from Cody’s fries.

  “Not all of it,” Cody answered. “Some comes from game wardens at preserves and parks, some from farmers and ranchers, some from fishermen. I’ve got a whole network of suppliers all over the world.”

  The three finished up and dumped their trash in a bin. Then they wandered around the zoo until Cody’s crates were ready. The Hardys helped him load the stuff into his SUV. “You’re coming back to my place, right?” Cody asked.

  “Yep,” Joe answered. “I want the full tour of your building, especially the mysterious third-floor lab you mentioned.”

  “Okay,” Cody said, climbing into his SUV.

  “Say, is that pizza place near Fourth and Irving still in business?” Frank asked. “I remember it from the last time we were here. They had the best pepperoni I ever tasted.”

  “It sure is,” Cody said, nodding.

  “Great,” Frank said, heading for the van. “We’ll stop to pick up some stuff we can reheat later—if that’s okay with you,” he called back. Cody agreed enthusiastically.

  Frank watched Cody pull away before guiding the van into the traffic on Sloat Boulevard. About fifteen minutes later, he was parking the car a few yards from Alma’s Pizzatorium. The Hardys strolled around the neighborhood while their pizzas and ravioli were being baked. Wisps of fog floated in from the ocean, and the temperature seemed to drop ten degrees.

  By the time they gathered up the food and headed back to Skin & Bones, the fog had become a dense watery veil, making everything appear dim and blurry.

  Frank parked around the corner from Cody’s, in the only space available. “I don’t think he’s here yet,” Joe said as they made their way toward the front. “He didn’t mention stopping anywhere, did he?”

  “No,” Frank said. He slowed down instinctively. “But you’re right. There’s only one light on in the whole building. It sure doesn’t look like anyone’s in there. Let’s check the garage—see if the SUV’s there.”

  Joe peered in through the garage door window. It was dark inside, but he could see the hulking outline of Cody’s vehicle. “It’s there. He must be inside somewhere.”

  After Frank tried the front door and found it locked, Joe pulled on the handle of the old-fashioned garage door. To his surprise, it started to lift up. He put the bag of ravioli on top of the pizza boxes Frank was holding and continued pulling on the garage door handle.

  The wooden door creaked as it moved out and up. Fringes of fog darted in through the opening, and Joe squinted his eyes a little to get a better look.

  A shot of adrenaline slammed through him as the floor next to the SUV slowly came into view. There was no mistaking the crumpled form lying next to the driver’s side door. It was Cody Chang!

  2 Roof Rage

  * * *

  “Frank!” Joe said. “It’s Cody. And he doesn’t look good.”

  Frank dropped the food on the ground and followed Joe into the garage. As Frank knelt next to Cody’s still body, Joe flicked on the light.

  “Cody!” Frank called, carefully lifting Cody’s arm to check his pulse.

  “I’d better call nine-one-one,” Joe said.

  “No!” Cody mumbled, rolling his head from side to side. “No, don’t call anybody. I’m okay.” He pushed himself up to a sitting position and rubbed the side of his head.

  “You’ve got a lump,” Frank said, examining Cody’s head. “And the skin’s all scraped away. You might have a concussion. Are you sure you don’t want to see a doctor?”

  “Yes, I’m sure,” Cody said firmly. “No doctor. I just got knocked out. It’s not the first time. Don’t worry, if I think I’m in trouble, I’ll let you know.”

  Frank knew he couldn’t make his friend go to a doctor, so he resolved to keep an eye on him for a few hours, just in case. “What happened?” he asked, leaning down to help Cody to his feet.

  “Somebody must have been waiting for me when I got back,” Cody responded. “As soon as I stepped out of the car, I got hammered.” He shook his head. “The bones!”

  Joe and Frank lunged for the SUV. “There’s one crate missing,” Joe reported.

  Cody checked each crate, reading the codes on the outside. “Oh, man,” he said with a moan. “The ostrich skeleton. They took the ostrich skeleton and the anteater claws.”

  “They?” Frank said. “More than one?”

  Cody thought for a minute, then sighed. “I don’t know. I just said that. I never really saw anyone. I wonder why they left the rest,” he added, staring at the other two crates.

  “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Joe asked Cody. “How about an ice pack?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. But ice sounds good. Let’s go inside.” Cody led the way out of the garage and into his office behind the shop.

  While Frank picked up the packages from Alma’s Pizzatorium, Joe checked the garage door lock. “The lock is pretty rusted out, but it might have been jimmied,” he told Frank as they made their way into Cody’s office.

  “Wow,” Joe said when Cody flipped on the light. The office was a mess, with papers and files flung around the room.

  Frank reached down and picked up one piece of paper with mud caked on it.

  “Is that a footprint?” Joe asked, tilting his head for a different angle of the smudged shape.

  “Might be,” Frank said, “but it’s not very clear. We could probably narrow it down to size but I can’t make out a sole design. It would be pretty hard to trace.”

  “What’s this stuff?” Joe asked, picking off a reddish brown crumb. “There seem to be dozens of these stuck in that mud. It’s soft, kind of spongy.”

  “I think I know what it is,” Cody said, taking the speck and slipping it under a microscope on the table behind his desk. “Yeah, I was right. It’s redwood bark and it’s fresh.”

  “Fresh? What do you mean?” Joe asked.

  “I mean it’s untreated—it actually came from a tree,” Cody answered. “It’s not a piece of a weatherproofed deck or some chip that’s been treated to be garden mulch.”

  “So are there actually giant redwood trees in San Francisco?” Joe asked.

  “There sure are—very special ones. The coast redwood grows only in a very narrow strip of Pacific coast in northern California and southern Oregon,” Cody answered. “The largest concentration around here is in Muir Woods National Monument, about twelve miles north of the city. There’s a small grove in the city in Golden Gate Park.”

  “That doesn’t really help us pinpoint a suspect,” Joe said, picking up more loose files. Frank pitched in, and soon they had everything stacked neatly on Cody’s desk.

  Cody slumped into a large carved chair and leaned his elbow on the desk. With a sigh, he propped his head on his hand.

  “Do you have any idea who did this, Cody?” Frank asked, pulling up another chair.

  “Not exactly,” Cody said quietly. “I mean I don’t know who it is, but it’s probably the same person or people who’ve been causing other trouble lately.”

  “Tell us what’s up,” Joe said, perching on the corner of the huge desk. “Maybe we can help.”

  “Man, the last several months have been tough,” Cody began. “I’ve had a couple of other burglaries. The first time they just took stuff from the shop while I was at a police benefit Dad had organized. I figured it was a routine burglary—you know, B and E—breaking and entering.”

  “How about the next time?” Frank asked.

  “That was different. They stole a shipment that had just arrived. Wasn’t even uncrated. I’ll bet they were surp
rised when they opened one of the crates. It was full of skulls and jawbones. Not what the run-of-the-mill burglar wants to try to unload.” Cody gave the Hardys a weak smile.

  “Any money taken? Safe robbed?” Frank asked.

  “Nope,” Cody replied. “Just merchandise. And this is the first time I’ve ever been hurt or there’s been any vandalism,” he added.

  “I’m not sure this was just vandalism,” Frank suggested. “Whoever did this might have been looking for something specific. You need to go through your files and papers to try to figure out whether anything’s missing.”

  “Are those the only problems you’ve had?” Joe asked.

  “No,” Cody said. “At first I didn’t think this other deal was related, but now I’m not so sure.”

  “What other deal?” Frank asked, jotting a few notes in a small pocket notebook.

  “I’ve had trouble with shipments not arriving. Stuff mysteriously getting lost—some of it very special merchandise from faraway suppliers. That’s been a real problem.”

  Cody stood up and began pacing behind his desk. “My business is different. I can’t just order things the way a traditional store owner does and have them delivered by a certain date. I have to take what’s available from my suppliers or wait until nature takes its course.”

  “What do you mean?” Joe asked.

  “Say someone wants a mountain lion skeleton for a museum,” Cody explained. “I can’t just go out and shoot one or have someone shoot one for me. I never kill animals or have them killed. I have to wait until one dies from natural causes.”

  “The orders that were lost in transit were special orders for the same guy,” Cody continued. “One I’d been waiting for for a couple of years. So I lost not only the shipment, but one of my best customers.”

  “And you think the lost shipments weren’t really lost?” Joe asked. “You think they were stolen or something?”

  “I sure do,” Cody said firmly. He stopped pacing and glared. “One shipment lost, maybe two. But three in five months? I don’t think so.”

 

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