Trouble in the Pipeline Read Free

between his thumb and forefinger. "Don't recognize the face, don't remember the name." He handed the picture back.
    "Would you object if we had a look at your records?" Joe sat quietly with his hands folded in his lap. But Frank could hear the determination in his voice.
    "That would be a bit unusual," Hammond said. "We don't normally allow anyone access to that information."
    Frank jumped in. "We understand. But I don't see how you can rely on your memory to recall every name and face that passes through here."
    Hammond chuckled, moving around to the other side of the desk. "I'm not one to forget a face."
    "But we'd like to be sure," Joe interjected.
    "We believe that Scott Sanders did work here and that he's now in some kind of trouble. I hope you'll help us out."
    "I'd like to help." Hammond's forehead wrinkled in sympathy. "But it's company policy. I can't go around opening personnel records."
    Frank took a deep breath. "Mr. Hammond, I'll be honest with you. We got some postcards from Scott, telling us that he was working here, and that he knew some of your managers were taking kickbacks. That's all we know. After a while the postcards stopped, and he didn't come home when he was supposed to. His folks are beginning to get nervous."
    Hammond sat down. "You say this guy thought my managers were taking kickbacks? From whom?"
    "He didn't say," Frank answered truthfully. "I doubt if he knew."
    "Well, that's news to me." Hammond bit off his words. Frank couldn't decide if it was from anger, surprise, or the tension of a guilty conscience. "Thanks for the tip," Hammond said. "I'll look into it immediately." He got up and started to show them out. As they were passing Cindy Velikov she looked up and smiled.
    "Sir, I overheard you say that Scott Sanders never worked here. But I remembered him, and I took the liberty of looking him up." She pointed to her computer screen. Joe moved quickly, not waiting for Hammond's reaction.
    "He's on record," Joe said firmly. "Scott Sanders started work in June and 'quit' in mid-August." He quickly scanned the rest of Scott's personnel information, but there were no clues.
    For a second the Hardys thought Hammond was going to explode with anger at Cindy. But he controlled himself and said simply, "I still don't think I ever heard that name — sorry."
    Frank nodded, and Joe winked at Cindy. They left the office knowing only that Doug had told the truth. They weren't any closer to Scott.
    There wasn't much to do in the Caribou Motel, where Frank and Joe were staying. They were lying on top of their beds fully clothed, including down parkas. Someone had forgotten to turn on the heat.
    "Do we go to the police?" Joe asked, staring at a map of the area.
    "I don't think so," Frank said. "That might scare whoever's involved — Scott may get hurt if he's still alive. Let's check around town for any kind of a clue to his whereabouts."
    A faint knock on the door brought the Hardys sitting bolt upright. Frank ducked behind the door while Joe called out, "Who is it?"
    "It's Cindy — Mr. Hammond's secretary," came a small voice from outside.
    Joe opened the door to reveal a frightened Cindy. He made sure she was alone. "Are you all right?" he asked, staring at her.
    "I have to tell you," she said. "Mr. Hammond was furious with me when I let you see my computer screen. Then I heard him on the phone. I don't know what's going on, but I think you'd better leave."
    Frank came out from behind the door. "Why? What did he say?"
    She was startled by Frank's sudden appearance. "I didn't hear everything, but he said something about 'getting rid' of you." Cindy stepped back, ready to bolt. "I can't stay — just be careful." She glanced around, terrified. "And don't tell anyone I talked to you. I just barely have my job still."
    Joe sighed as he closed the door. "Do you think she'll be all right?"
    "I'd worry more about us," Frank said. "Come on." In a few minutes they had piled up most of the furniture in front of