Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

"You were suppose to dispose of the body after you killed him," the second man responded, putting his cowboy hat on, "I’m stuck helpin’ you ‘cause you didn’t do it right the first time!"

The two men had just stopped their truck behind the steel machine barn on the abandoned Hiller Ranch. As soon as they exited their vehicle, the stench of decay met their nostrils.

"Oh, man," the first man said, "This is gonna be worse than I thought. I shoulda’ changed out of my uniform first."

"Get the plastic bags and come on," growled his partner through clenched teeth.

They entered the barn and walked to the threshing machine. Having left the door open for light, at first glance they could only see the dried blood that had sprayed all over the top of the machine.

"Climb up there and see what’s left of him," the man with the hat ordered.

"Who died and made you the boss, huh?" the deputy replied, "I ain’t goin’ up there."

The man with the hat scowled at his partner, "Okay, I’ll look. Then I’ll throw you in there with him!"

"Sure you will," snickered the officer, tapping his holstered gun, "You must be forgetting my little friend here."

The man in the hat climbed up the side of the thresher. He’d seen some gruesome sights in his life, but what was left of Collin Anderson topped them all. He quickly swallowed down the bile that was threatening the back of his throat, climbing off the machine.

"Looks like some animals have gotten to him now," the man gagged slightly, "If you and Ryan had taken care of this..." His sentence was left unfinished.

He walked back out to the truck and pulled a plastic rain poncho over his head, covering his clothes. He pulled on a pair of heavy-duty rubber gloves and threw a pair to the other man.

"All you have to do is hold the bag open," the man in the hat instructed, "I’ll throw everything in from the thresher. There’s no way we’re gonna get all of him. Too many small pieces."

* * *

Ronnie Benson pulled into the Fredricks driveway behind an old Plymouth station wagon. He recognized Cindy Kai’s car and wondered what she was doing here.

The young deputy climbed out of his SUV and went onto the front porch of the house. Before he could knock, a voice called from next-door, "They’re not home yet!"

Ronnie glanced across the yard and saw Colt Tanner playing with Collin’s dog, Lucy. He descended the stairs and joined the Wyoming sheriff in Anderson’s back yard.

"Mr. Fredricks wanted to talk with me ‘bout somethin’," Ronnie said, giving the golden retriever a good scratch on her belly, "You know where he might be?"

"On his way home, I assume," Tanner replied, "He was picking up his kids at Wagner’s, then heading back here."

"You know what this is about, don’t you?" the officer questioned the older lawman.

"Let’s wait for Fenton and the boys," Colt answered, "This is their party; I’m just an invited guest, like you."

* * *

"So what happened?" Fenton questioned his sons, glancing at Joe in the rear-view mirror. The blond teenager had his head back and his eyes closed.

"We met Ryan Wagner," Frank simply stated, casting a glance at his brother. "He was ready to turn Joe into a shish-ka-bob with a pitchfork."

"What? Joe, what happened in there? Are you alright?" Fenton asked frantically.

Joe sighed, but then opened his eyes and answered, "I’m fine. Ryan and I met under...well, let’s just say he wasn’t real happy."

"Explain, please?" his father asked impatiently.

"What were you really doing in that stall, anyway?" Frank added.

"Randy and I were cleaning those stalls all day. When I went in to clean that stall, Randy said it didn’t need cleaned because they didn’t use it." Joe explained. "When I asked why, Randy said the stall was haunted by the spirit of the kid that died there."

"Let me guess," said Frank, "Jimmy Mc Curdy?"

"Yep," Joe answered, "That’s not all Randy told me. He overheard Ryan talking recently. Ryan was telling somebody that Jimmy got just what he deserved."

"Wow!" exclaimed Frank. "Wonder who Ryan was talking to?"

"Anyway," Joe continued, "After work, I decided to at least look in the stall. I didn’t expect to find anything after 5 years, but I did see something."

"You saw something in that stall?" Fenton asked.

"There was a really dark stain in the floor boards near the back of the stall," Joe replied, meeting his father’s eyes in the rearview mirror, "I suppose it could be anything, but Randy said the horses get real skittish if you try to put them in that stall. If the stain is blood, it might explain their reaction."

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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.