Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

Fenton listened, vacillating between awestruck and taken aback, still amazed that his sons seemed to find trouble – or have it find them! – anywhere! It had been hard to follow at first, with Phil, Biff, Callie and Vanessa all trying to talk at once. Knowing how upset the girls were, he listened patiently for several minutes before suggesting Biff and Phil explain exactly what happened once the two of them and Joe had gone in search of Frank. Still, he couldn’t help but glance at Vanessa and Callie periodically and feel somewhat protective of them.

Lord only knew how many nights Callie and Vanessa had stayed up, worrying about Frank and Joe, sometimes wondering if they’d ever see the men they loved again. Yet they supported his sons completely in their chosen careers and loved them unconditionally, never complaining about the odd hours, forgotten dates and broken promises or last-minute trips out of town, despite not knowing when they’d return or what kind of shape they’d be in when they did. Fenton realized his sons were very lucky in having found these two women to share their lives with, and decided even if he searched the world over, he couldn’t have found better life partners for his boys.

As Phil related the final details, Fenton saw Callie surreptitiously wipe a tear from her eye. Instinctively he reached out and took her hand, squeezing gently, offering Vanessa the same meager comfort before returning his attention to Phil and Biff.

“Let me make sure I’m understanding you correctly…Frank went off by himself to find something for this scavenger hunt and that was the last anyone saw him. When you all realized he hadn’t just gotten sidetracked or lost track of time, you two and Joe tried to retrace his steps. In doing so, you ended up at the condominiums on the waterfront where Joe found an envelope with his name on it.

“When he opened it, there was a note instructing Joe to go on his own personal scavenger hunt. He has until six o’clock to collect everything on the list included with the note at which time, he’ll be contacted by…whomever has Frank?”

“Yeah,” Biff nodded, “that’s about it.”

“And then what…once he turns over everything he’s collected, he and Frank are free to go?” Fenton said, puzzled.

“Uh…that wasn’t really made clear.”

“There’s something else,” Phil said quietly.

“Oh?”

“That list they gave Joe…the things they want him to collect…”

Fenton’s brow creased as he stared at the normally composed young man. “What is it, Phil?”

Phil glanced at Biff nervously and took a deep breath. “It was a list of everything you’d need to make a homemade bomb.”

A heavy silence ensued until finally Fenton offered a vague, “I see.” After taking a moment to digest the shocking information, Fenton automatically began trying to put the bizarre pieces together and come up with something that made sense.

Standing, he walked to the desk and jiggled the mouse, bringing the computer to life. Pulling up Google, he typed in a few words. He checked a few different sites before finding what he wanted, always aware of the muted whispers and fidgeting of the four young people he knew were watching his every move. “Phil, Biff…did you get a good look at that list? Can you remember exactly what was on it?” he asked, never taking his eyes off the monitor.

He heard the two boys get up and walk over to stand beside the desk. “Most of it…probably,” Biff offered, after a questioning glance at Phil.

Fenton shoved a pad and pen across the desk. “Could you write down everything you remember, please?”

He heard more shuffling and felt someone peering over his shoulder. Smiling, he knew it was Vanessa. Fenton had taken an immediate liking to Vanessa the first day Joe brought her home; she had the same irrepressible, fun-loving personality as his younger son and had never seemed in awe of Fenton Hardy, as some of his sons’ other friends had. And the fact that she had grown up fatherless touched something deep inside him…

“What are you looking for?” she asked, leaning over his shoulder for a better view.

Fenton had pulled up a map of downtown Bayport from the website of the city’s Visitors Bureau. In addition to the most popular tourist attractions, it provided details about each business in the area, including what they specialized in and where they were located. Pointing to a specific area he zoomed in. “This is the general area where the Scavenger Hunt was held?” he asked.

“Mm-hmm,” Vanessa nodded. “It started and ended here,” she indicated the town square.

“Here’s the list,” Phil said and Fenton looked up to see the paper containing a list of the items the boys could remember.

“Thank you,” he murmured, already turning his attention back to the screen.

For the next few minutes, there was relative quiet as Fenton divided his attention between the list of items and the monitor, stopping periodically to jot down a few notes.

“Oh!” he heard an exclamation of understanding from Vanessa. “You’re trying to figure out where Joe might go to get the things on the list!”

Turning, Fenton smiled broadly at his future daughter-in-law. “We’ll make a detective out of you yet!” he winked.

“But…all the stores are closed now,” Callie said quietly. “How will he get in?”

‘Without getting caught, I hope!’ Fenton thought, tempering his response for an obviously upset Callie. “Oh, he can be pretty resourceful when he puts his mind to it.” Pushing away from the desk, he stood and faced the foursome. “Now, I know you aren’t going to like what I have to say next but I’m going to insist…” He made direct eye contact with each of them before continuing.

“I know you’re worried – very worried; I know you want to help, but I want you to go home.” He held up a hand in anticipation of the protests, stopping them before they could gain momentum. “You did the right thing, coming here to tell me about this, but you can’t stay. We know both Joe and Frank were being watched, right?”

The four nodded, solemnly.

“We can’t take the chance that any of you are – or will be – watched. So I need you to go home…now.” Fenton reached out and took Callie and Vanessa’s hands. “Maybe the two of you could stay together tonight,” he suggested, “and I will call you as soon as I know anything.”

The two girls looked crushed, but nodded in understanding. “You want to stay at our place tonight?” Callie asked Vanessa, who nodded mutely.

“Aren’t you going to need a little help, Mr. H?” Biff asked, a hopeful note in his voice.

“I’m going to call Sam as soon as you leave,” Fenton assured him. “Now,” he gestured towards the door, “the best thing you and Phil can do for me is to make sure Callie and Vanessa get home safely.”

The foursome reluctantly made their way to the door, with Biff and Phil eliciting a promise for Fenton to call if he needed any more information. Once they left, Fenton took a moment to compose himself, the beginnings of a plan already starting to take shape in his mind. Striding back to the desk, he picked up the phone and called his business partner and closest friend, Sam Radley.

“Sam, it’s me. The boys are in trouble…I need your help…”

Thirty minutes later the plan had been set in motion….

*****

Joe squeezed his muscular body through the too-small window and dropped to the dirty asphalt below. He stayed crouched down, glancing up and down the alley, making sure he was alone. Standing, he reached up, grasped the edge of the window and pulled it shut, wincing when it squeaked loudly. He waited a beat, listening intently in case anyone had heard the sound although he needn’t have worried. So far the only company Joe’d had during his breaking and entering spree on the dark and deserted streets of downtown Bayport had been drunken revelers, homeless people and the occasional passing patrol car.

In the past hour and a half Joe had broken into four different stores, methodically collecting everything on the list. In each store he left the price sticker for whatever he had taken and enough money to cover the cost. Whoever had taken Frank was making it as difficult as possible for Joe to collect the needed items, but he vowed they would not turn him into a thief!

Quickly and quietly Joe returned to his car, opening the trunk and depositing the newly obtained items next to the others he’d already collected. Closing the lid, he shifted slightly, allowing the dim street light to illuminate the paper in his hand. Looking down the street and consulting the list again, he nodded to himself. Bentley’s Hardware Store was three blocks away and would go a long way to helping him complete the list. Unfortunately, Joe was well aware it had a silent alarm.

Leaning against the trunk, Joe removed the dark baseball cap and ran a hand through his blonde hair in frustration, trying to decide the best way around the alarm. As he considered his options, Joe was jolted from his thoughts when a body suddenly barreled into him, almost knocking him over. Instinctively, Joe reached out and steadied the obviously drunken man who had stumbled into him before he hit the ground.

“Ooopsie!” The man looked up at Joe and grinned. Grabbing Joe’s shirt, he pulled himself to a fully upright position. “Sorry there, pal!” he patted Joe’s chest affectionately and apologized, his face only inches from Joe’s.

Joe wrinkled his nose and turned away at the sudden smell of alcohol. ‘Geez, this guy reeks!’

“Yeah, no problem,” Joe muttered, gently pushing the man away.

“No, really…I’m real, real sorry!” the man insisted, trying to enunciate each word as proof that he wasn’t drunk.

“I get it. You’re sorry. No harm done, okay?” Joe replied, trying to turn the drunk and point him down the street.

The man smiled again and leaned in closer. “You’re a nice guy, ya know? A reaaaaaaal nice guy!” he breathed out heavily.

Joe waved a hand in front of his face, trying to dissipate the overpowering smell.

“Yeah, so I’ve been told,” Joe muttered, starting to get annoyed.

“Well, whoever told ya,” the man began, starting to back away, “they were right!” He reached out and poked Joe in the chest with one finger for emphasis.

His face registering utter shock, the man lost his tenuous grip on balance and teetered backwards. “Wheeeeeeeeeeeeee!” he cried out happily, pinwheeling his arms to try and gain balance, succeeding only in falling forward, bouncing off the trunk of Joe’s car and landing on his knees.

As the man, patted the dirty street beneath his hands and laughed, Joe rolled his eyes and cursed under his breath at the delay the harmless drunk was causing him. Watching the man reach out and purposefully grab the bumper of his car, what was left of Joe’s patience started to slip away. He grabbed the man by the arm and yanked, hard.

The man looked up at Joe and his grin widened. “Thanks, pal!” Releasing the bumper, he buried his fists in Joe’s shirt and using him for leverage, the happy drunk slowly and awkwardly regained his footing, unsteady as it was. “So,” he said, throwing an arm around Joe’s neck. “How ‘bout we go out for a little drinky, hmmm?”

“Thanks, but, I think you’ve had more than enough already,” Joe snorted, trying to disentangle himself from the overly friendly man.

“Ya sure?” the man pressed. “We could…bond! Over a beer...or four…” he suggested hopefully.

“No!” Joe said emphatically, trying once more to push the man away.

“Okay, okay,” the man replied, dejected. “Don’t hafta get nasty about it,” he mumbled. Releasing Joe, he tried to pat down the wrinkles in Joe’s shirt as a peace offering. “Well, if you don’t have time for a drink, maybe you could lend me a few bucks? I’ll pay you back – scout’s honor!” He held up two fingers, nodding solemnly and then looked up and down the street surreptitiously before winking at Joe. “You know…for a cab! ‘Cause I wouldn’t wanna drink and drive! That’s just not safe!”

“Oh for God’s sake,” Joe muttered, thoroughly irritated now. Reaching into his back pocket, Joe pulled out his wallet, yanked out a five dollar bill and threw it at the man. “Go home and sleep it off, would ya?!”

Brushing past the man, Joe got into his car and drove away, the image of the drunken man standing in the middle of the street, grinning and waving his newfound fortune, quickly receding in the rearview mirror.

As the taillights of Joe’s car disappeared around a corner, the drunk straightened up. Carefully folding the five-dollar bill he tucked it into a small pocket in his wallet. Pulling out a cell phone, he dialed, waited a moment and said simply, “Done. I’m on my way back…”

Returning the phone to his pocket, the man took one last glance down the street, turned around and walked away.

Let the author know what you think of this story

Home Library Authors Rogue's Gallery Vehicles Chums Message Board Rap Sheet Links Contact

Disclaimer

The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The Hardy Boys Fan Fiction authors of the Hardy Detective Agency have just borrowed them for an adventure or two. The authors promise to put the boys back when they are done with them. The authors do claim copyright to the original characters in this story. Please do not borrow original characters without express permission of the authors.