Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

Something was wrong. Joe sensed it as soon as he and Frank stepped into the basement where the Youth Center was housed. Kids milled about in small groups, talking amongst themselves in low, intense voices. Even Frank, who was hardly familiar with the place, could sense the underlying tension that filled the air. He gave Joe a questioning look.

"Something wrong?" he asked his younger brother.

Joe frowned. "Yeah, seems like it, but I have no idea what it might be. Let's go over to Carl over there and ask him."

As they moved quickly across the room, Joe was conscious of the looks being directed at them, as well as the expressions of excitement and fear on the faces of those they passed by. Something definitely was wrong.

"Hey, Carl, what's going on?" Joe asked as soon as they were within hearing distance.

Carl turned at the sound of his name and greeted the boys with a nervous smile. "Oh hi, Joe, Frank. Didn't expect to see you here today."

"So what's going on? Who died?" Joe asked jokingly.

The smile quickly disappeared from the older man's face, to be replaced quickly with a look of surprise. "You know already?"

"Know what?" It was Joe's turn to look puzzled before his eyes widened in realization. "You mean somebody really died?"

Carl nodded grimly. "Yeah, they found the bodies of Bella and Brandie not two blocks from here."

Joe was stunned. "How? I saw them only last night, and they were fine."

"You saw them?" Carl looked at him closely. "Last night? What time?"

Joe shrugged. "Before I got here. Must have been around 7:00 or so. How did they die?"

"OD'ed," Carl said, shaking his head. "What a damn waste!"

"Both of them?" Joe asked, completely stunned. "But how --?"

"Don't know. There are very few details right now. The police were here most of the day, questioning everybody. Might be a good idea for you to give them a statement as well, since you saw them both last night."

Frank tapped his brother's shoulder lightly. "You knew the victims?"

Joe nodded grimly. "I told you about them, remember?" He did not think it appropriate to refer to the nickname that he had given the now deceased girls.

Frank blinked and then quickly nodded. "Oh." Instinctively, he reached out and grasped his brother's shoulder briefly. "You okay?"

Joe shook his head. "I can't believe it."

"Yeah, I am in shock myself," Carl agreed. "When will these kids learn? What a waste!"

Joe glanced around the room. "Have you seen Jason?"

Carl shook his head. "No, haven't seen him at all today. Surprising, as he's usually here on Saturdays. "

"He was with Bella and Brandie last night when I last saw them," Joe said, frowning.

"Then the police will probably want to question him as well. And you, you will go to the police yourself and tell them that you saw the girls last night? They have asked that anyone with any information at all to contact them," Carl said. "But you boys are probably no strangers to the procedure, with your dad being Fenton Hardy."

Joe sighed. "Yeah, we are familiar with the procedure. I don't know if that's a blessing or a curse." He turned to his brother. "We should go to Jason's house to see if he's home. If he is, he can come with us to the police station and we can give our statements together."

Frank nodded. "Sounds like a plan of sorts. Let's go then," Frank said.

"Didn't think you'd let me do this alone," Joe smiled a little tightly.

"After what happened last time? You're not going anywhere near that place by yourself if I can help it," Frank said firmly as he began to head toward the door.

"I better drive since I know the way there," Joe offered and climbed in behind the wheel of the van.

"Joe, why are you so eager to see Jason?" Frank asked as he strapped on his seatbelt. "Is there something that I should know about?"

"Was I that obvious?" Joe turned to his brother.

"Only to me. I know you, remember, little brother?" Frank smiled.

Joe started the van. "I can't help but think Jason is somehow involved with this mess. I hope I'm wrong, but I can’t quite put the idea out of my mind."

"Is there a reason that you should think that way? You said you saw him with the two girls last night. What were they doing?" Frank asked.

"It was pretty dark and by the time I reached them, Jason was about to go." Joe bit his lip and glanced at Frank with a deepening frown. "I can't help but think Jason was the one who supplied them with whatever they OD'ed on. One of the girls said something about having something that would make their night out of this world."

"Did they seem high to you at that point?" Frank asked.

"They always seem high to me," Joe said. "No, I guess they were behaving no differently than the other times that I had been with them." He paused and then continued, "Jason had mentioned something about start living life his way. He could have meant quitting school, of course, but he had also said before that there was plenty of easy money to be made even if he didn't finish school." He shook his head. "Man, I sure hope I am wrong about all this. He's too young to be involved in something like this."

"It's all speculation right now," Frank said. "Let's not decide on anything until we've had a chance to talk to the kid."

"If we can get a hold of him," Joe said, not sounding confident at all.

Joe knocked on the door with its peeling paint and deep gouges embedded in the battered wood.

"I don't think anybody's home," Joe said to Frank as they waited for a response. He was about to knock one last time when the door suddenly opened.

"Yes, what do you want? Hey, it's you, kid. What are you doing here?" the familiar figure asked in surprise.

"Mr. Taylor?" Joe asked, equally surprised. "You live here?"

The large man who had come to his rescue that night nodded. "Yeah, I live here. But why are you here?"

"You are Jason's father?" Joe asked incredulously, ignoring the other's question.

A look of suspicion suddenly flashed across the man's face. "What's it to you? What do you want with my son?"

"Mr. Taylor, may we come in and talk to you?" Frank interrupted.

"And who are you?" the man regarded him suspiciously.

"This is my brother, Frank. We are here to talk to Jason, if he's home," Joe quickly said and turned to explain briefly to his brother, "Mr. Taylor was the one who helped me that night after those punks roughed me up."

"Well, Jason's not here, but come on in anyway." The man pulled open the door and waved them through. "Seems like the whole world is looking for Jason. Wait until I get my hands on the kid."

Joe suddenly stopped short and gaped at the living room. The neat and spotless room that he had remembered now looked as if it had been trampled by a ransacking mob. The sofa had been slashed repeatedly, its stuffing strewn and scattered all about the floor.

"What happened here?" he asked, turning to Jason's father. It was then that he noticed a large darkening bruise on the man's face.

"That's what I've been asking myself. My son didn't come home at all last night, then this couple of goons showed at the door this morning looking for him, roughed me up and trashed this place. If a couple of neighbours hadn't intervened, they probably would have done even more damage. Then the police showed up, also looking for Jason. And now you boys are here. What the hell is going on?"

"Mr. Taylor --" Frank began.

"No, my first name is Taylor. The last name is Grady," the man corrected.

Realization dawned on Joe. "So that's why I didn't make the connection between you and Jason. I had thought your last name to be Taylor."

Taylor Grady shook his head impatiently. "Why are you looking for my son? The police told me that they want to question him in connection with the death of two girls. I told them that my boy was no killer. He's a troubled kid, but he ain't no killer. What do you know about all this?"

Frank looked at him and let out a slow breath. "We know very little as well. We were hoping that Jason would be able to tell us more."

"Don't know where that boy is. I told the police about him missing and they asked me all sorts of questions. Told them about those goons too. They want me to go down to the police station to see if I can identify them. The police think those guys may be related to why Jason didn't come home last night," Taylor told them. "I don't know what the hell is going on. I just know that I'm scared for my kid. Jason is in trouble."

Frank and Joe exchanged a look, and both knew that instead of getting the answers that they had hoped for, they were now faced with even more disturbing questions.

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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.