Terror at High Tide Read Online Free PDF Page B

recognized.” Joe blew out his breath. “It looks like somebody’s trying to warn us off the case.”
    â€œBut who could know about our investigation at this stage?” Frank mused. “We were the only ones in the breakfast room at the Great White Whale.”
    â€œIt’s true—you guys have been on the case for less than an hour,” Alicia said. “No one else could possibly know about it.”
    Frank looked thoughtful. “Except for one person. Whoever dropped the octopus on me and Joe last night probably got a look at us—from the moonlight coming through the windows. The guy may easily guess that we’re helping you out, Alicia.”
    â€œWe’re near ’Sconset. Roberto could be on the lookout for us—while he’s trying to guard Dad,” Alicia said.
    â€œScarlatti—or whoever kidnapped your father—might have learned from your dad that we’re detectives,” Frank said. “He might have wormed that information out of him.”
    Alicia glanced anxiously from Frank to Joe. “What do you mean—‘wormed’ it out of him? I hope he’s being treated nicely and not forced to give out information—”
    â€œAlicia,” Joe cut in. “We need your help to find your dad, so you’ve got to try to stay calm.” He frowned at Frank, wishing his brother hadn’t brought up the subject of how Mr. Geovanis was being treated.
    â€œI’m sure your dad’s fine,” Frank said, understanding Joe’s warning frown. “Kidnappers usually want something from other people—money or whatever—so it’s in their best interest to treat their captives well. Then they can exchange their captive for whatever it is they want.”
    â€œI’m sorry to get upset,” Alicia said with a quick smile. “It’s just that I’m so worried.”
    â€œIt’s totally understandable,” Joe said. He gripped the handlebars of his moped and began to move slowly forward.
    â€œWe’d better get a move on,” Frank said, as he revved up his bike. “Every minute counts.”
    Ten minutes later Frank, Joe, and Alicia parked their mopeds on a narrow street in the tiny fishing village of ’Sconset. As Alicia scouted around for the house, Frank and Joe studied their surroundings. The village was set on a bluff overlooking the Atlantic Ocean, and the Hardys noticed that ’Sconset was much smaller and less crowded than the town of Nantucket.
    After walking by a row of modest cottages surrounded by picket fences thick with roses, they stopped in front of a much larger house surrounded by a wide green lawn. The house was white with black shutters and a wraparound porch. Two dramatic-looking turrets stuck out on either side of its third story.
    â€œThis is it,” Alicia announced. “Scarlatti’s house.”
    â€œNice place!” Joe exclaimed.
    â€œIt’s a reproduction of a ship captain’s house,” Alicia told Frank and Joe. “There are a bunch of houses like this in the town of Nantucket, dating from the late 1700s when Nantucket was one of the major whaling ports of the world. Roberto admired them, but he wanted to live in ’Sconset for the view so he had one built.”
    â€œWhat are those towers for?” Frank asked.
    â€œI think they were for spotting ships at sea, or maybe even whales,” Alicia answered.
    Joe grinned, then rushed up the porch stairs. “Come on, guys. Let’s see if we can spot anything in this house.”
    Frank rang the doorbell, then gave the door a hard knock. When no one answered, he tried the door handle. The door was locked.
    Joe walked to the end of the porch on the right side of the house and craned his head over the lawn, scouting around for the dune buggy.
    â€œIf it was Scarlatti in that dune buggy,” Joe said as he walked back to Frank and Alicia, “he must still be out in