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more hard evidence that Kanner is trying to collect money on works of art that were never destroyed, we can bring it to Sheriff San Dimas.”
    Joe nodded and finished off his sandwich.
    Things were quiet in the Windstormer controlroom as Joe and Frank stopped behind a radar screen manned by Diana Lucas.
    â€œWhat’s the forecast?” Frank asked.
    â€œIt stinks,” Diana replied. “There’s a break in the weather. Zero percent chance of tornadoes until at least tomorrow afternoon.”
    â€œBummer,” Joe said. “Did Mr. Jansen find out anything from the National Severe Storm Laboratories?”
    â€œSomething jammed their radar reception, too,” Diana replied. “The trouble only lasted for five minutes. NSSL pinpointed the location—about three miles from the Kanner farm—but when they sent the authorities there to investigate, all they found was an empty field.”
    â€œThat means no one has any images of the mystery twister,” Joe said.
    â€œWhy would someone jam radar transmissions?” Frank wondered.
    â€œFor the same reason some hackers break into a corporation’s computers and plant viruses,” Diana replied. “To prove that they can.”
    â€œAnd to prove that they’re jerks,” Joe added.
    Phil walked in, wearing rubber gloves and carrying a mop and a bucket. “Finished!”
    â€œTake a breather, Phil,” Diana said. “Nothing to do around here till tomorrow.”
    â€œPhil, you’re a technology buff,” Frank began. “How would someone jam radar transmissions?”
    â€œSimple,” Phil responded. “You can rig a microwave oven—”
    â€œThat wouldn’t affect an area this vast,” Diana said. “You would need the kind of jammer they use in the military.”
    â€œHmm. Why don’t we take a drive, Phil?” Frank proposed.
    â€œAre there some sights you’d like to see?” Phil asked.
    â€œOne,” Frank replied. “The site of the mystery twister.”
    By the time Phil and the Hardys reached the red clay road leading to the Kanner farm, the sun was beginning to set. The place seemed completely deserted now. Phil parked the Blue Bomber behind a grouping of trees so that it couldn’t be seen from the highway.
    â€œI’m glad we thought to bring these,” Joe said, grabbing a flashlight and handing two more to Frank and Phil. “This is real country darkness out here.”
    â€œWhy are we here, exactly?” Phil asked as they walked down the clay drive.
    â€œRemember how nervous Kanner got when I found that phony piece of Ming vase?” Joe said.
    â€œYou don’t think that he just misidentified it?” Phil asked.
    â€œLet’s put it this way. Frank and I think there may have been more than Mother Nature at work out here today,” Joe said. “And if we snoop around here, maybe we can find some proof.”
    Frank’s flashlight beam fell on the padlockeddoor to the storm shelter. “I noticed this earlier, and it still doesn’t make sense,” he said.
    â€œWhat doesn’t?” Joe asked.
    â€œWhy would Hal Kanner go to the trouble of padlocking his storm shelter right after a tornado has leveled his house?” Frank said.
    â€œI would be thinking about the valuable stuff I wanted to salvage,” Phil said.
    â€œExactly,” Frank said.
    â€œDo you think he’s hiding something down there?” Joe asked.
    Frank shook his head. “Take a look. The keyhole on the lock is rusted over. I doubt it’s been opened in years.”
    â€œThen Kanner was lying about being in the storm shelter when the twister hit,” Joe said.
    Frank nodded and pulled his penknife from his pocket, “It’s an old lock. I might be able to pick it.” Frank scraped away the rust and wiggled the point of the blade back and forth in the keyhole. Finally, the lock popped