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keep the 'dead' issues," Don explained. "Get it?"
    Joe locked eyes with Don again. Something about Don didn't sit right with Joe, but he couldn't put his finger on it - not yet, anyway.
    "Another reporter heard about what Mangieri told the assistant district attorney and Riley. He managed to get his hands on the parole report on Leonard Mock."
    "We've already found Mock, and it's not him we're worried about," Joe said impatiently.
    "It's his son," Liz announced, leaning back in her chair and locking her hands behind her head.
    "How did you know that?" Frank asked.
    "I'm a reporter."
    Liz leaned forward and stared intensely at Frank. Frank forced himself not to smile. He could tell Liz was enjoying playing the part of detective.
    "Shortly after the trial," Liz began, "Mock lost custody of his son, and Bobby Mock was adopted by another family."
    "What about Bobby's mother?" Frank asked.
    "She died when Bobby was only three," Don answered.
    Joe was about to ask Don how he knew that when Frank said, "If Bobby Mock was adopted, then his name would have been changed and that could be why we don't know anybody named Mock at school."
    "That's right," Joe said, suddenly excited. "All we have to do now is find out who adopted Bobby Mock."
    "Forget it," Don said.
    "What?" Joe didn't like Don butting in, answering all the questions, and he didn't like Don's know-it-all tone.
    "Adoption records are held by the vital records section of city hall," Don explained, sounding bored. "The only way vital records will let you look at adoption papers is through a court order. And trying to get a judge to unseal adoption records is like trying to get Joe to give out his book of phone numbers."
    "How do you know so much about it?" Joe fired back, ignoring Don's jab at his numerous girlfriends.
    "His dad is city manager," Liz reminded the Hardys.
    "That's right," Don said smugly. "And while you two can't get to the records, I can."
    "How?" Frank asked quickly. Frank could tell Joe was getting angrier by the moment. Joe didn't like interference, even helpful interference. Or was Joe jealous of Don because of Liz?
    "I know everybody at city hall. Nobody's going to question my hanging around, especially during a crisis. I told you guys earlier I wanted in on this case."
    "You're in," Frank said. Joe shot Frank an angry look. "And thanks."
    "No problem." Don jumped up from the desk. "I'd better start now." He left the newsroom and disappeared down the hallway.
    "We'd better start, too," Joe said, not wanting Don to get too far ahead of them.
    "We owe you one," Frank said to Liz as they headed out of the newsroom.
    "Forget it, Frank. On second thought, let me have the exclusive on this story, and we'll call it even."
    "You've got it."
    Once outside, Joe darted through the rain at a jog.
    "Hey, what's your hurry?" Frank asked.
    "You don't think I'm going to let Don solve this case before we do, do you?"
    That confirms it, Frank thought, Joe is jealous of Don. With all the girls in Bayport Joe could impress, he had to decide to try to impress Liz Webling, the one girl who wouldn't have anything to do with him.
    A roar split the air. It sounded like thunder, but Frank knew no thunder would crease his left temple with a searing hot wind. Shards of brick flew off the Times building where the bullet finally hit and exploded. A three-inch chunk of brick slammed into the back of Frank's head.
    He fell to the wet pavement.
    "Frank!" Joe shouted. He ran to his brother.
    Blackness swam in front of Frank's eyes, slowly falling like a curtain over his brain. He tried to push himself up but couldn't. Time seemed to slow down. Frank raised his head and saw a man in a black raincoat and ski mask standing in the alley across the street. His hands were coiled around a .357 automatic, its deadly barrel trained on the Hardys.
    The man fired again. Joe Hardy fell next to his brother.

Chapter 5
    Frank fought against the unconsciousness that sought to drown him. Through a red