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tropical mangrove trees edging the property, the Hardys could see a high wall topped by barbed wire.
    Bob saw them trying to get their bearings, and motioned with his rifle. "Let's go. No sense in you looking around here. You ain't staying. This is just your jump-off spot."
    Jeeves, gun in hand once more, couldn't resist adding, "Bob is quite right. You won't be staying—unless, of course, you are here under false pretenses." He smiled, clearly pleased with himself. "In that case, this place will be your final destination." His grin grew more ghoulish. "Or should I say, your eternal resting place."

Chapter 4
    "FIRST WE TAKE care of business," Bob told the Hardys as he pressed the buzzer to the door of the mansion. Another man in fatigues and carrying an M-16 opened the door and waved them through.
    The interior was a surprise. The outside of the mansion looked straight out of the South before the Civil War, but inside everything was strictly contemporary. The lighting was indirect, the walls were painted in soft pastels, the carpeting was thick and springy underfoot, the furniture was modern and sleek. It was like walking into an expensive international-style hotel.
    Bob herded the Hardys into a room that had been turned into an office, where a pretty young woman was sitting behind a free-form desk. Its top was uncluttered except for a computer.
    The young woman looked up at them, smiling automatically. When she saw two teenage boys approaching her instead of the middle-aged men she had expected, the smile wavered for an instant. She quickly replaced it. "Hi. I'm Sally," she said coolly. "If you'll tell me your names, we'll get you checked in."
    Frank recognized her voice. She was the one he had talked to on the phone at Marcie's.
    "Hi," he said. "I think I spoke to you before. I'm Frank. And this is Joe."
    "Hi, Frank and Joe," Sally said suspiciously. She punched their names into the computer and looked at the monitor screen, which Frank and Joe couldn't see. Then she said, "Glad you arrived on time. Everything is so much simpler when our clients obey instructions. That will be one hundred twenty-five thousand dollars, please."
    Frank put the attache case on the table and opened it. "Shall I count it out, or do you want to?"
    "I'd be happy to, sir," Sally said.
    As she picked up the first bundle of bills, her whole manner changed abruptly. The unconvincing smile vanished from her face, her eyes focused like high-intensity lights on the bills, and her fingers moved as quickly as if they were machine parts, flipping through the bills amazingly quickly. After she had counted the bundle, she separated several bills from the rest and examined them with a penlight and a magnifying glass, which she took from a drawer.
    "What's the matter, don't you trust us?" Frank asked quickly, suddenly wondering himself about all those hundreds. Were they funny money?
    "Nothing personal, sir, just routine," said Sally automatically, not bothering to look up. She took another bundle of bills from the case and repeated the counting and checking.
    Frank and Joe waited. The only sounds in the office were the rustling of the bills and Bob clearing his throat behind them. Neither Frank nor Joe turned around, but both could picture the M-16 in his hands. And they could be sure he was holding it ready.
    Finally Sally looked up from the bundles of bills piled neatly on the desk in front of her. Her smile was switched back on. Whatever doubts she might have had about Frank and Joe seemed to have vanished.
    "Everything seems to be in order," she said. "Now, what do you want to do with your remaining cash?" She pointed to the bundles of bills still in the attache case. The case was still about three-quarters full. "Would you like to deposit the money in an account with us? Or do you prefer to keep it with you?"
    "If it's all the same, we'll keep it with us," said Frank.
    "I understand perfectly," Sally said. "In fact, most of our clients prefer to keep