Skin and Bones by Franklin W. Dixon Page A

bordered in navy blue and one ragged edge.
    Frank peeled the scrap of paper off the floor andheld it under his light beam. “It looks like a corner torn off some kind of label,” he said.
    â€œThere’s something on it,” Deb pointed out. “A lowercase g and a number two.”
    â€œB-two-g,” Joe said in a whisper. “The code at the mailing station,” he said to Frank.
    â€œLet’s get back to town,” Frank said. He was shot through with adrenaline. He felt as if he were straining to look at something from far away and if he could just get closer, he would see it clearly.
    The four climbed out the window and retraced their steps down the beach and over the wire fence.
    â€œWe can catch Redwood Creek Trail over this way,” Cody said. “It’ll get us to the car quicker.”
    It took them half an hour, but they finally reached Cody’s SUV, still parked safely in the eucalyptus grove.
    Back in town, they picked up sandwiches for lunch, and then headed over to Skin & Bones.
    There was a faint odor from the fumigation but not enough to bother anyone. They ate quickly, and it was two o’clock when they finished. Cody and Deb took the skull to the lab to clean it to see if they could find any identifying marks.
    Joe got on the phone to check with Cody’s network to see whether anyone knew anything about the boatshack, b2g, or a missing human skull.
    Frank booted up the computer in Cody’s office to check online public records that would tell him who owned the beach property they had found.
    No one made a connection that helped the case.
    About three o’clock Dave knocked on the shop door, and Joe let him in. Cody and Deb came down, and they all gathered in the kitchen of Cody’s flat.
    â€œMan, it is great to get Mike Brando back behind bars, isn’t it?” Dave said. “That weasel.”
    â€œYeah, but someone else has to be helping him,” Cody reminded Dave. He was interrupted by a loud tapping on the door of Skin & Bones. Deb let in a frantic Jennifer Payton.
    â€œCody!” Jennifer called up the stairs. “Where are you guys? I need you desperately. You’ve got to come over to help me finish getting set up. The dress rehearsal’s in less than two hours.”
    â€œRemember, Cody,” Frank whispered to his friend, “we’re going to check her out while we’re over there. Don’t let her know how you feel—or even that you know about her buying your building or her plans for the future of this area.”
    â€œWhat’s going on?” Dave asked. “Don’t tell me you suspect Jennifer Payton of something.”
    â€œCody, where are you?” Jennifer called again.
    â€œLater,” Cody said to Dave. “It’s showtime.”
    Cody led the Hardys and Dave down to the shop. “Jennifer, I’m sorry,” he said. “We’re on our way.”
    â€œOkay,” she said, hurrying back to the door. “Don’t forget your costumes.”
    â€œCostumes?” Dave repeated. “Is this for the charity fund-raiser? Do you have room for me?”
    â€œWe always have room for more volunteers,” Jennifer said without turning around.
    Frank, Joe, Cody, Dave, and Deb grabbed the costumes Jennifer had given them and went next door to Reflections. The transformation of the club was wonderfully spooky. Under the black draped ceiling with red twinkle lights, cubicles were set up and connected in a mazelike pattern, almost like train cars opening from one to the next. Each had a scary scene inside. Visitors would be ushered through the scene and past the costumed figures, who would interact with them.
    The Hardys and the others joined the gang of volunteers to finish setting up the scenes—ghostly parlors and attics, sunken ships, alien spaceships, witch kitchens, crazy scientist labs, caveman lairs, vampire crypts, werewolf forests, pirate cabins, and