Hardy Boys Fan Fiction - A Summer Storm by Anya (Hardy Detective Agency)

"You can use this for the night, and I’ll come by early in the morning and take it back before dad comes back. It’s very thin, but it’s the only one to spare."

"Thank you," Joe managed to sputter out, as she draped it over him. He wasn’t sure whether to trust these little friendly overtures or not. It might be a trap. But, you’re already trapped, he told himself. Well, no harm in keeping himself warm.

"I can’t untie you though," she warned him.

Believe me that’s the last thing I’d like you to do right now.

"Are you alright otherwise? You’re not scared of the storm are you?" This as a bolt of lightning flashed outside, and for a fraction of a second lit up her face, the same cool and collected expression on it as the last time he’d seen her.

The appalled look on Joe’s face invited a small laugh, "I guess not."

She wasn’t speaking in a comforting, motherly tone, she used her normal matter of fact, almost cold tone, but Joe somehow found it more comforting that she did that. At least it sounded normal.

"Do you need some water?" she asked him.

Joe nodded, the mention of water made him feel too thirsty to try speaking.

She helped him drink some water out of a bottle she’d pulled out of her bag. Joe almost expected her to put hand into the bag and pull out a rabbit next. Or maybe something to eat, he could do with that.

He drank up almost the whole bottle, and then sat back, watching her warily wondering what was next.

"I can’t get you anything to eat," she told him, "And you wouldn’t be able to eat anything with your hands tied anyway."

She picked up the torch, and putting the bottle in her bag, stood up to leave.

"Why are you doing this?" Joe asked suddenly.

"I don’t see any reason to starve you or freeze you," she replied coolly.

"No, why are you doing all this? With your father?" Joe said curiously. She didn’t seem bad. She seemed normal, sane and sensible. So did her brother from what little he’d seen of him. He wondered what kind of a hold Gavin Walker had over his children to make them behave so unusually.

"Because he’s my father."

The loud clap of thunder that followed that statement almost seemed to shake the foundations of the room, but not before they heard a soft sound from near the door. Someone was entering the room.

----------------------------------------------

"The access road is in very bad condition," Con told Fenton, "We’ll either have to walk it, or take a boat."

They were still discussing it when Frank re-entered the room.

"The walk will take time, and the boat might be seen by Gavin Walker. There’s only one mooring spot in that entire island, the one in the northern part of the island, and it’s the one where his boat is," Con was saying.

"Maybe not," Frank had just re-entered the room.

"Hmm…we could use the coast guard to help us out if there’s any trouble," Con said.

Frank smiled at them, "There’s another way."

"What?" Con tried again.

Fenton sat back calmly. He wasn’t even going to try asking Frank. Helping raise his two sons had endowed him with endless patience.

Frank was about to reply, when the doorbell rang.

"That’s how," he said, and went off to answer the door.

Con looked at Fenton despairingly and then shook his head as Fenton simply shrugged.

Frank meanwhile returned with Phil and Chet carrying papers of all sizes in their hands.

"Meet Bayport’s finest mapmakers." Frank told Fenton and Con as the boys greeted them.

Fenton’s face cleared as he realized what Frank was saying. Con was beginning to understand too, "You boys mapped out the Point."

"School project," Phil told him, "The Point’s not far from either of our houses."

"We could probably get around without a map," Chet said, remembering the innumerable occasions he’d scrambled around the place marking out features for their geography class.

"And you mapped out the coastline too, right?"

"Yeah, the Coast Guard was a great help there, they even let us use their old maps."

"So, you can help us find someplace where we can moor ourselves so we can’t be seen. Somewhere in those rocks on the far east side of the island."

"Sure, just say when."

It took them a while after that to plan out things. They managed to find a spot where they could moor the boat. Chet and Phil explained how they could get to George Sandler’s house from there. It wouldn’t be easy going, through trees, and on wet clayey soil.

"That would be the house there, and this entire area is their property, the tin structure has to be there, it’s the only area on the island where the buildings are still in one piece," Phil told them.

"How come this property is still intact after all these years?" Frank asked.

"Apparently the owners come twice a year and clean things up," Chet said.

"Let me guess - a brother and sister pair?" Con stated drily.

"A man and a woman, that’s all I know, young, twenties or so."

"O.K., now where exactly do you suppose this tin roofed structure is?"

"There’s a small shed near the main house, on a cliff edge, I think they used it as a storehouse. It’s got a tin roof I remember. It’s not very far from the house," Phil said.

"And if that’s not the one?" Frank voiced the thought uppermost on everyone’s minds.

He answered it himself, though, "Then I guess we can just comb the whole island for Joe."

It had begun to lighten outside when they left the house; the rain was still coming down though, making it seem much darker.

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Disclaimer

The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The Hardy Boy 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.