Ranger and the Gang Series: The Case of the Twelve-Hour Deadline

By Kathyne Lorraine Jackson

Ranger And The GangSeriesare mysteries involving Ranger, Altese, Pug, Tracker, and Bernie. In "The Case of the Twelve-Hour Deadline" the Gangs ready to start their summer vacation, but a telephone call dramatically changed their plans. Their mentor and Rangers father, Ralph Longbody, was brutally attacked in a telephone booth while checking on final clues. Ranger And The Gang followed those clues to a warehouse, jeweler, refinery, wealthy matron, and finally culminating at a museum showing that evening. Ranger And The Gang only had twelve hours before the showing to rescue Ralph. Stunned, the Gang and Ralph's partner, James Johns, delved more into the bizarre circumstances surrounding Ralph's disappearance and uncovered a network of international criminals that expanded the globe.

Will they find Ralph in time or are his days numbered?

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Mar 6, 2008
• ISBN: 9781434300270

Kathyne Lorraine Jackson

Kathyne Jackson is a published poetess, songwriter, and is best known for her non-fiction book, “Dear Diary: What My Doctor Never Told Me About Liposuction.”  She loves to travel and is the owner of a small internet business.  She lives in Maryland with her two children and two cats, and is working on the next mystery in the Ranger & The Gang series.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Time - 6:41 a.m.

Come on, Ranger! Enough already! Tracker Hamilton exclaimed as he rolled his lithe five-foot-ten frame back and forth in front of the clubhouse picture window. His black skateboard had the word GANG in bold, gold lettering and squeaked with each motion. He had a mahogany complexion with long, black, curly hair and was seventeen years old. Three times is enough!

We can’t be too prepared, Ranger Longbody stated as he rechecked his list. He was the same age and two inches taller than Tracker, with a gingered complexion and dark brown hair. He stood in the center of the clubhouse. This is our first fishing trip since school ended. It’s summer and I’m going to make sure our vacation starts right.

The key word here is vacation, Altese Shepherd said. Her caramel-colored complexion looked dark next to her auburn tresses, which she wore in one braid down her back. She was dressed in her favorite outfit – a T-shirt and sweat pants. Also seventeen years old, she was tall for a girl and very athletically gifted, which was one of the reasons she made starting guard on Fairbrighton High’s girls’ basketball team during her freshman year.

Yeah, Bernie Shepherd agreed. He sat on the couch beside his twin sister. We got everything, including the picnic basket. And if you want someone to check on the food again, you go. Your grandmother told me not to come back. He was six-feet-four, with a tanned complexion and a dark reddish-brown crew cut.

She didn’t kick you out because of Ranger’s list, Pug Hamilton said. She kicked you out because of your appetite. Like his older brother, Tracker, he was also dark skinned with black, curly hair. He was the shortest, at five-foot-eight, and was 15-years-old, making him also the youngest member of the Gang. He sat across the room at the conference table. If you keep eating the food, there won’t be any left for the rest of us.

I’m not that bad, Bernie stated.

Oh, yes you are, they all declared.

The Gang lived in Fairbrighton, Maryland, near the Chesapeake Bay and the U.S. Naval Academy. Their clubhouse was in the renovated garage of the Longbody’s home. Located on two acres of land, it was a white brick, two-story structure, red shingles on the windows and a red awning just above the small front porch. The back, however, made up for the front. There was an Olympic-sized swimming pool, a concrete patio filled with red-oak furniture, a white brick barbecue, which Ranger and his father had built years ago, and a basketball court with one hoop.

The main floor area of the garage, used as the Gang’s headquarters, was divided into three areas - the conference area, which had a huge maple conference table and chairs beside the picture window and sported a spectacular view of the pool; the office area, where the computers, files and other research materials were; and the laboratory, filled with a plethora of chemicals, vials, a metal table and Bunsen burners, a huge, empty fish tank, a computer with an extensive medical database, several cabinets filled with equipment, and a ventilation system that could clear smoke from the room in less than two minutes. Over the years, that last feature had only been used once by Ralph, Ranger’s private detective father, when he had tried to test a theory of his and had failed. In the far corner of the lab a walk-in closet was used as a dark room. The lab was always locked, and only Pug and Ralph had keys to it. The upstairs portion of the garage was used as a home office and private haven for Ralph.

Ralph Longbody was a former member of the Central Intelligence Agency who had developed many contacts throughout the intelligence community. When he retired, another former intelligence officer, James Johns, and he had formed the Longbody-Johns Detective Agency. Some call it the LJ Detective Agency. Others just call it the Agency. With the help of his contacts, Ralph was able to acquire state-of-the-art electronic detection and laboratory equipment for the Agency and the clubhouse, which gave both access to worldwide computerized information. In addition, he had them outfit Bernie’s van, changing it into a mobile office.

Two years ago, Ralph and his partner were hired to uncover an increase in vandalism and robberies in Fairbrighton High. Ranger and his friends had just started the ninth grade there, except for Pug, who was in his senior year in junior high school. He had skipped two grades and was now only a year behind them. Despite Ralph and Johns’ continued warnings, the Gang got involved and was very instrumental in solving the case.

Although grateful for their help, Ralph did not want his son or his friends in the detective business. He tried every way he knew to deter their interest, but he soon realized the Gang had caught the detective bug during their first case and he was unable to stop their growing determination.

Over the next two years, the Gang had continued to interfere in Ralph’s cases. He gave up trying to stop the inevitable and decided that if they were going to continue pursuing the detective trail, they should be trained. He made them unofficial members of the Agency and started schooling them in the intelligence field. That way they would be better able to handle the trouble they were sure to encounter.

Ranger looked over his list again and said, Come on. This is our last summer before we start our senior year. After that, it’s college and who knows what else. I don’t want to waste a minute of this summer.

Not for everyone, Tracker said, looking at his brother. Some of us have all kinds of time to waste.

Pug just smiled. He was used to his brother’s ribbing about his age, and anything else Tracker could think to pick on.

Still, I want to make sure everything is perfect, Ranger stated.

Why does everything always have to be perfect with you? Altese asked. Can’t we just go fishing and have fun? It’s going to be hot enough today without getting into an argument about a stupid list. Let’s not spoil the trip before we even get started.

Hot is right, Pug stated. It’s supposed to hit the high 90’s, and out on that water with the sun reflecting off it, we’re going to definitely feel it.

So enough of the list, okay, Tracker said.

Ranger smiled. His teammates had a point. Okay, he agreed. Enough of the list. Then all we have to do is wait for dad.

Where’d he go? Bernie asked.

He had to check on something for Mrs. Baldwin. He promised he would be here by six forty-five. He looked at his watch. He’s not too late.

Mrs. Baldwin? Pug asked, pushing his glasses back onto his nose. Is he on a case for her?

I’m not sure it is a case. I think it’s only a security detail at the museum tonight, but I don’t know much about it. Dad wanted to check something out before turning the whole thing over to Johns. Yesterday he told me nothing would interfere with our fishing trip. He looked at his watch again. I hope nothing came up. This isn’t like dad. He hates being late.

True, Tracker said. Definitely one of his pet peeves. He had been looking forward to their annual fishing trip since February. I wonder what’s up. If it’s only a security matter, what would he have to check on this early?

Good question, Ranger responded. I don’t know.

Maybe we can help, Bernie said. I’m ready to start helping your dad full-time, especially after spending the last few weeks cramming for finals. There’s nothing like hitting the street searching for clues. He also looked forward to the fishing trip, mainly to spend time with his friends. But he would have preferred working with them while on a case. It was much more interesting to him than fishing. And like you said, summer’s here. Let’s do what we do best - solve mysteries. Now that school’s out, we have plenty of time.

Wait a minute, Ranger interrupted. This isn’t a case. It’s just a routine security matter. You know how dad is. He’s even more of a perfectionist than I am.

No way! they all agreed.

Come on, now, Ranger said, slightly annoyed. I just want everything to go smoothly. What’s wrong with that?

To most people, nothing, Tracker responded. But you have a way of taking things five steps farther than necessary.

Thanks a lot.

Before anyone else could speak, the telephone rang. Ranger walked over to the wall unit, picked up the receiver, and spoke into it.

Hi son, Ralph Longbody said, speaking to him on the other end. I know I’m late, but I’ll be on my way soon. Has the rest of the Gang arrived? He was dressed in a short-sleeved print shirt and light-colored khaki pants. His dark brown hair was cut short, a remnant from his intelligence days, and his mustache just barely covered his upper lip.

They sure have, Ranger smiled. We know how you are about being on time. Wait a sec while I put you on speaker. He punched a button and replaced the receiver. Okay dad, you’re on.

Hey, Gang, Ralph said. Sorry I’m late.

That’s okay, Pug said. He and the rest of the Gang gathered around the speakerphone. You just saved us from going over Ranger’s list again.

They heard Ralph laughing. That’s my boy, he said. Always ready for anything. That’s why I didn’t put him in the Boy Scouts. I was afraid he’d take over.

Where are you? Altese asked as she smiled at Ralph’s comment. To her and the rest of the Gang, Ralph was a friend as well as a mentor. Ranger told us you’re doing something for Mrs. Baldwin.

That’s right, Ralph said. I’m in Rocky Bottom following up on a lead. He stood in a telephone booth watching an abandoned warehouse located directly across the street. At that time of morning, there were very few people on the street. An occasional car passed by as did a bus, which stopped at the bus stop and waited as passengers alighted from it. Several of the passengers went into the meat packing plant while the rest continued down the street.

In my old neighborhood? Tracker asked. Memories of it brought a smile to his lips.

Pug, however, frowned at the mention of Rocky Bottom for his memories weren’t as pleasant as his brother’s.

I’m right around the corner from your old apartment, Ralph responded.

Old is right, Pug reflected. He hated the peeling paint, the huge roaches, everything about the old apartment and the neighborhood.

What’s going on there? Altese asked.

It actually started with my client, Mrs. Baldwin. There was an attempted robbery at her house Tuesday evening. If they had succeeded, she would have been the fifth robbery victim in Stafford Heights.

Stafford Heights, Pug interrupted. Very lavish and very far from the old neighborhood.

Let him finish, Pug, Bernie said. Go on, Mr. L.

She called me and I contacted Captain Mayfield. That’s when we found out about the other robberies.

I didn’t hear about them, Pug said.

You would know, Tracker snorted. You review every news service there is.

Pug ignored his brother’s comments. When did the others happen? he asked.

We don’t know, Ralph said. If it wasn’t for the botched robbery the other night and Mr. Dunston’s observations, we might still not know about them. One of Dunston Jewelers’ customers brought in a bejeweled item for repair and Mr. Dunston noticed at once it was a fake. Since the robbery attempt, he has checked some of his other clients’ possessions, telling them he had to for insurance reasons, and found four other fakes. He didn’t want to embarrass his clientele and they didn’t want the unnecessary publicity since the fakes were almost as good as the real thing, but they had agreed to notify their insurance companies. They only let the police in on the robberies because their insurance companies had insisted. Their claims wouldn’t be covered until they did. Leo Mayfield has kept the whole thing out of the papers and he’s put the Fairbrighton Police Force on alert. The Captain has also increased security in the Stafford Heights area. I don’t have to tell you this is top secret. Keep this under your hats.

Of course, Mr. L, Bernie responded for the Gang.

Good, because this is on a need-to-know basis.

Obviously, security is lax somewhere since someone was able to get into Mrs. Baldwin’s home, Tracker commented.

Not to mention her neighbors’ houses, Pug stated.

You’re right, Ralph acknowledged. That bothered me, too. And something else. Apparently Stafford Heights wasn’t the only neighborhood hit in the past few months. Rocky Bottom and Landover residents have also been robbed, but it’s mostly small stuff, at least according to police standards. They don’t give the same priority to personal keepsakes of low income families that they do to million-dollar jewel heists. That last line was said in a venomous tone. Ralph was never one for politics. He always felt everyone should be treated equally and did everything he could to see that it was so. But, as he knew first-hand, politics ran rapid in all government agencies, which was one of the reasons why he got out. He saw a lot of injustice in the world but was delegated to helping only those cases that were politically correct and financial well endowed or expedient to a political cause. Starting his own business enabled him to take on cases he wanted, regardless of the client’s bank account. When I heard about the others, I put two and two together and it didn’t add up to four. So here I am.

You found something?

Maybe. I just need to take a closer look to be sure, which I’ll do after I hang up. Then I’ll contact Johns and the Captain and let them take over. Afterwards, I’m yours for the day. Shouldn’t take more than an hour.

And Elizabeth Baldwin is a part of this? Altese asked. She was worried about her friend. Even though they came from two different worlds, the two of them had grown close. Altese had first met Mrs. Baldwin while working on several of the matron’s fund-raising projects and, as a result, had spent a lot of time with her. She wasn’t hurt during the robbery, was she?

No, she wasn’t home, Ralph answered. That attempted robbery really shook her up, though. The thieves were good, very good. They got into her home without tripping any of her elaborate security alarms. Plus, they had picked a night when Mr. and Mrs. Baldwin were at a play and the staff had the night off. Their maid, Ophelia, had gone to the movies with friends while her secretary, Patricia Nash, had other plans. Colin and Katie Montgomery, the butler and cook, were in their cottage on the property half a mile away from the main house.

So what happened? Tracker asked.

Ophelia got sick. She came home early and surprised the thieves. If it wasn’t for her, Mrs. Baldwin would have been Stafford Heights latest victim, even though nobody but Samuel Dunston knew of the others. The Captain already had major problems with the counterfeit bills case and he didn’t need this.

Counterfeit bills? When did this happen?

They’ve been showing up for some time, mostly twenty dollar bills. So check your change.

Yeah, that’ll happen, Tracker laughed. When I get change, it’s usually in coins.

Ralph returned the laugh and then continued. One good thing about Ophelia’s timing was that the thieves got away without their prize, which I assume was the Gleamston.

The Gleamston! Pug exclaimed. That’s Fairbrighton’s most famous necklace.

Which is why I think that’s what they were after. Whoever was behind this had done their homework and must have planned those robberies months ago. They needed time to have the fakes made. In the other four collections only the most priceless items were switched and replaced with fake duplicates. Only an expert like Dunston would’ve been able to tell it from the real thing. There’s nothing in the Baldwin collection that’s more famous than the Gleamston. If it wasn’t for Ophelia, who knows how many more homes would have been broken into before anyone even suspected a robbery.

That still doesn’t tell us why you’re down in Rocky Bottom, Bernie said.

I think I have a lead on the robbers. The sooner we catch them the sooner Mrs. Baldwin will rest easy. She recently inherited the Gleamston necklace from her aunt. Now that it’s finally back in Fairbrighton after a thirty-five year absence, she didn’t want to wait for the Founder’s Day Parade. She decided to have a showing at the Augustine Memorial Museum tonight. But she’s worried the robbers might try again before the showing. If that happens, the reputation of Fairbrighton’s police department and the Augustine Memorial Museum would be irreparably damaged.

We all know how Mr. von Molle would take that, Tracker said. The Gang had dealt with the museum’s curator before.

Not to mention the embarrassment to Mrs. Baldwin, Altese added.

I wanted to get an early start, Ralph continued. I have something to report to Johns before he heads to the museum.

Have there been any more attempts? Altese asked.

No, thank goodness, Ralph responded. But that doesn’t mean they’ve given up. Tonight’s showing is to benefit the Summer Youth Employment Program. Mrs. Baldwin expects quite a turnout. Johns and I are responsible for security both at Mrs. Baldwin’s and at the museum.

And you think the robbers are hiding out in Rocky Bottom? Bernie asked. Maybe we can help. That sounds like more fun than waste the day on a boat, he thought.

I think they’re using one of the warehouses down here.

Which one? Pug asked.

At that same moment, another voice was heard over the speakerphone saying, Time to get off.

Hold on, Gang, Ralph said as he turned away from the telephone. I’ll be off in a minute. His voice sounded far away to the Gang members.

Who’s that, dad? Ranger asked. The hairs on the back of his neck suddenly tingled, a sure sign of trouble. Over the years he’s learned to heed its warning.

I don’t know, Ralph spoke. Just someone anxious to use the telephone. His tone became firm and his voice again became muffled as he stated, I said I’ll be through in a minute.

You’re finished now, detective, sneered the tall man with glasses and the thickest eyebrows Ralph had ever seen.

Ranger didn’t like the tone of the other voice. He yelled into the telephone, Dad!

What’s going on? Bernie asked. Who is that?

Tracker, Altese and Pug leaned closer, straining to hear.

But Ralph didn’t answer. He dropped the telephone as the tall man and his cohort, a short, blond-haired man with a thin mustache, grabbed him. Ralph fought valiantly, using the techniques he had learned as an agent, and was holding his own until suddenly the taller man got the upper hand. Ralph was punched in the gut, which doubled him over. The short blonde-haired man took the advantage and, with his fingers intertwined, conked Ralph on the back of his head, sending him to the ground. Ralph hit his head hard on the cement, which knocked him out and ended the fight.

Back at the clubhouse the Gang, hearing the sounds of scuffling, verbally expressed their concerns. They couldn’t see exactly what was happening but each had been in enough tight spots during their brief investigative careers to mentally guess. They didn’t know about the second man because he never spoke. But even if they had known, none would have allowed themselves to believe Ralph could lose. So after several minutes, when silence met their ears, they still held on to the hope that Ralph would again speak into the other end. But the next sound they heard was a click and then a dial tone.

Someone had hung up the telephone.

Ralph had lost.

CHAPTER TWO 

Time - 7:14 a.m.

For a few moments no one spoke. They couldn’t believe what had just happened. Their mentor, their friend, had just been attacked in a telephone booth while speaking to them. A man whose entire career had prepared him for such attacks was caught off-guard. And now he was gone, abruptly cut off from them, without a word.

The Gang’s collective brains shut down while their emotions went from shock to sadness to fear and finally to anger. It was Altese whose emotions had reached the latter first.

We have to do something, she yelled. Mr. L’s in trouble and we have to help him. Get him back.

How, sis? Bernie asked. He had just reached his emotional fear level. Reach through the telephone? We don’t even know what happened.

What do you mean we don’t know what happened? One minute he was talking to us and the next we’re disconnected. You think he’s on his way back here and forgot to say good-bye? With all that noise we just heard? Be serious.

She’s right, Pug said. He had also reached the anger level and, as one prone to think things through quickly, he continued, We know he’s in Rocky Bottom. Let’s get down there.

Get down there? Bernie asked. And do what?

What do you mean, ‘do what’? Help him! We could get on the telephone and call Captain Mayfield and tell him Mr. L was attacked. We could also let Johns know about his partner. We have to find out more about the case they’re working on and see if he has any answers that could help us.

Or we could call 911, Altese interrupted. They could send the police and an ambulance to the warehouse district faster than we could get there. She paused, trying to get her emotions under control, to no avail. We should be taking action instead of standing here asking stupid questions!

Mr. L is gone! She couldn’t get that thought out of her head. A few minutes ago they were looking forward to going fishing. Now they didn’t know what had happened to him, if he was all right. He has to be okay, she thought, fear creeping back in.

Tracker was thinking the same thing. She’s right, he stated, angrily. We have to get help to him now.

Then let’s do what we do best, Pug said. We’re detectives, aren’t we? We don’t have any time to waste. I’ll call Captain Mayfield right now.

He picked up the receiver and then hesitated, remembering the last time the telephone was used. Shaking away the negative thoughts swirling around in his head, he dialed the police station.

Finally, Altese thought. Something was being done. They were contacting Captain Mayfield and he would get some action started. She looked at the rest of the Gang and her eyes rested on Ranger. She saw the pain in his eyes, which was a reflection of her own, and understood exactly what he was going through. Eight years ago, when Colonel Bruce Shepherd’s plane crashed in Europe, she and Bernie felt totally helpless. The Air Force would not release any information on the crash, not even to the family, which left the Shepherds thinking the worse. If it wasn’t for Ralph’s contacts in the intelligence community, they would not have known whether her father was dead or alive. Within several hours after Ralph’s telephone calls, word came back that Colonel Shepherd was alive and well, and would be heading back home in a few days. Now it was Ralph who was missing and it was Ranger who had to endure the pain of wondering while waiting for word. When she turned her gaze to her brother, she saw him nod. He was probably also thinking about their father’s crash. They were usually on the same wavelength.

Ranger didn’t notice Altese watching him as he looked around the room at each of his friends. Except for his dad and grandmother, Rachel Porter, these were the closest people in the world to him. They have been through a lot as detectives, and many years before that as friends and classmates. But they were more than friends. They were a family, and he knew they all loved his dad as much as he did.

Dad, he thought as his sadness quickly bypassed the fear and went directly to anger. We’re going to get you back. No matter what, we will find you.

He looked at Pug and asked, What’s taking so long? He had a job to do and willed himself to take back control. If the Captain’s not at the precinct, have them transfer you to the dispatcher?

They’re getting the Captain now, Pug announced.

Don’t leave anything out, bro, Tracker said.

I won’t. I can’t. I remember everything that happened.

The look Tracker returned said he also would never forget that telephone conversation.

Have him send someone down there now, to see if Mr. L’s hurt, Altese said.

Or even there, her brother said solemnly.

Ranger, dear, Mrs. Porter said as she came through the door that connected the kitchen with the clubhouse. Was that your father on the telephone? Is he on his way home?

She wore a short-sleeved flower print dress with a white apron. Her dark brown, shoulder-length hair was pinned up into a French roll. She was a handsome-looking woman with a flawless complexion. She wore very little make-up, just a hint of a blush and a light copper-colored lipstick that blended well with her skin tone.

Ranger turned to his grandmother and the enormity of what just happened hit him again, sending his emotional level to fear. Not fear for his father, but fear for his grandmother’s reaction to what had happened.

It had only been four years since his grandmother had lost her daughter and Ranger’s mother, Jeannette Longbody, in an automobile accident. The same accident that had also taken her husband, Captain Martin Porter. Four years since Mrs. Porter had moved in and brought a semblance of order back into the lives of the two men left behind. Four years of love and support and understanding. Four years of burying the pain they all shared. A pain of loss that was now a part of their past. A pain they had replaced with the joy of remembering. Joy that would be shattered because he had to open another wound by telling her about Ralph’s attack.

How do I do that, he wondered. We’ve suffered so much and now I have to lay this on her. How will she cope with this?

But in his heart he knew she would manage. She always had, even after the loss of the two people closest to her - her husband and daughter. Being the widow of a police captain, she had understood what it meant to wait for word. Over the years she had endured many nights waiting for her husband to call and let her know he was all right, that he was not hurt in the latest confrontation. She had always survived with the strength of her faith and the conviction of a strong, Christian woman.

During the past four years, the pain of losing his mother sometimes became unbearable for Ranger. At those times, his grandmother would sit with him and tell him stories of Jeannette as a little girl. Just knowing more about his mother’s life made Ranger feel better. Ranger wondered how she had coped with the pain until one night, when he was heading to the kitchen, he heard his grandmother in her room crying. Then he knew she kept everything inside, remaining strong for Ranger and his father, and shared her grief only with God. When she emerged the next day, she was again strong, ready to give a hug or a loving ear. Ranger never told her what he had heard that night. Both would need her strength again, but he knew they would endure this one. Together.

He had to tell his grandmother in the only way she would want it - straightforward. Mrs. Porter would accept nothing less.

Rachel Porter has always been a very perceptive woman. She knew the look people got when something was not right. A look duplicated in the five pairs of eyes looking at her.

Ranger, what’s wrong? she asked. Was that call from your father?

Yes, Grandma, Ranger said, solemnly. He tried, unsuccessfully, to keep the fear out of his voice. That was dad on the phone. We were talking to him when, he took a deep breath before continuing, when he was attacked.

Attacked? What happened to him? Her hand went up to the cross she wore on a gold chain around her neck. Is he alright?

Tracker and Bernie quickly crossed the room and stood by Mrs. Porter, one on each side, as Ranger continued. She listened intently while caressing her cross, and did not say a word as her grandson told her of the case Ralph was handling. She heard his voice slow down as he told of how they had heard a man’s voice in the middle of the conversation they were having with Ralph.

The next thing we heard, Ranger was saying, was scuffling sounds, as if the man had attacked dad. Then the line went dead and dad hasn’t called back.

Mrs. Porter’s eyes widened. Oh my, she said. She turned, headed for the couch, and then sat.

Ranger followed her and sat on her right side while Altese went to her and sat on her left. Bernie and Tracker stayed where they were.

Mrs. Porter closed her eyes and willed the tears back. Taking deep breaths to calm her fears, she silently said a prayer for her son-in-law. She didn’t want to think about what would happen to Ranger if he had also lost his father, and she would not let herself express that fear even to herself. Instead, she opened her eyes and gazed into the four pairs of eyes watching her. Across the room, Pug had turned his back to them and was speaking to someone on the telephone. The rest of the Gang’s attention, however, was on her.

She took another a deep breath and summoned all the strength her faith gave her, which was considerable. She realized it would not help the Gang if she broke down and cried, which she didn’t want to do because that would be admitting that Ralph was gone forever. She would not believe that. She knew in her heart of hearts that Ralph would be found. That he would be all right. She just had to have patience and faith. Right now, however, her greatest concern was Ranger and his friends. They looked at her as if she would fall apart, and that was not right. Ralph had spent the past couple of years training and molding this group of teenagers into a very capable team of detectives. She truly believed it was their calling. It was in their blood. The last thing they should be doing right now was worry about her.

She knew from experience as a policeman’s wife that the longer one took to retrace the steps of a case, the colder the path got. These kids had to get on the ball and start their investigation. Their concerns should be on Ralph, not on her, and the only way that would happen was if she showed them, by action and words, what they had to do. She had to be strong and not let the Gang see how upset she was.

She had to change their perspective from her to Ralph, for their sakes. They had to do everything they could, no matter what the results or the cost, to find Ralph or they would carry the guilt of not trying with them for the rest of their lives. Her husband had taught her that. She remembered many nights she had the same conversation with him. When any member of the Fairbrighton Police Force disappeared, he always tried everything he could, used whatever was necessary, to try to find them.