Nowhere to Run by Franklin W. Dixon Read Free Book Online

beat up Brandon?" Joe asked as they neared the garage.
    "I believe Biker is capable of doing just about anything if he gets angry enough."
    Joe stared straight ahead. Biker was capable of losing his temper. Especially when he cared a lot about something — or someone, like a girlfriend.
    Joe had seen Biker lose it completely three years earlier at a motocross event. Another cyclist had tried several times to kick Biker's cycle. Biker detested cheaters. After the race, Biker punched out the other rider and then took a hammer to the guy's motorcycle. When he was done, the cycle was totaled.
    "Looks deserted," Frank said as he pulled the van to a stop and looked around.
    Joe was too intent on looking at the run-down garage to hear Frank. He hopped from the van and scouted the area.
    "It's clear," he said.
    Frank shook his head. He'd have to keep an eye on Joe.
    The door of the garage still lay in splinters where Frost had burst through. Frank and Joe entered the bay area and looked around. Frank tried a door leading to an office while Joe rummaged through some junk in the back.
    The office wall was covered with motorcycle pictures and graffiti of skulls, cycle logos, and blood-drenched daggers. Frank cupped his hand over his nose — the office stank of decayed food. Something moved by the door — a large black rat. It squealed and scurried for the dark safety of a corner.
    "You okay?" Joe yelled from the garage.
    "Yeah," Frank replied. "Just introducing myself to one of the houseguests."
    Joe was growing impatient. He kicked at the rubbish and boxes that lay about the bay area. He still didn't believe that Biker had deliberately lured Brandon out to the pits just to beat him up.
    "Ow!" he yelled as his foot struck a wooden box hidden under a pile of dirty blankets. He looked closer, then threw the blankets aside. Stenciled on the side of the box was DalTime and a Queens address. Joe dug around in the blankets and discovered two more boxes. "Frank!"
    "What's wrong?" Frank asked as he ran into the bay area.
    "Got the time?" Joe smirked as he held up a handful of designer sports watches.
    "Does anybody really know what time it is?" Frank replied, a wide grin on his face. For the first time in two days, he really began to believe that Joe had been right about Biker all along.
    "This proves that Frost was in on the hijacking," Joe said.
    "If the serial numbers match the invoice for the stolen watches," Frank replied.
    "Why don't you just throw a wet blanket on the party?" Joe said sarcastically. Frank was being too cautious again.
    "Look, Frost could have swiped these from any of the shipments he delivered."
    Joe hated to admit it, but Frank was right.
    "Let's take these three cases to Brandon. Maybe he can identify them," Frank said as he picked up one of the boxes.
    Joe stacked the remaining box on the one he'd kicked and followed Frank out of the garage.
    "Going somewhere?" a gruff voice asked.
    Joe lowered his boxes. In front of Frank was a bearlike man, four other Sinbads at his side.
    "Uh, how's business, Switch?" Frank tried to sound calm.
    "Breaking and entering's a serious crime," Switch said with a chuckle. The big, burly biker seemed in a dangerously cheerful mood for a man whose nose was wrapped in bandages.
    "Come on, Switch, let's quit fooling around. We've got to meet Frost at Daryl's," said a short, balding guy with an eye patch.
    "Do what you want with old One-Arm here," Switch said, pointing at Joe's sling. He twisted his wrist and like magic his six-inch blade appeared.
    "I've got some unfinished carving business with the other one."

Chapter 9
    BRACING THEMSELVES BACK to back, Frank and Joe prepared for a hopeless fight. Frank knew that with his karate skills he could handle one of these guys, maybe two, but strength and numbers were on the Sinbads' side. And that didn't take into account the chains and clubs each Sinbad was holding.
    Switch laughed and lunged carelessly at Frank. Frank moved to one side and