Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

"Dad," Frank Hardy called out as his father pulled into the gravel lot of the Wagner Ranch. "I thought you were going to wait awhile before picking us up?"

"Thought if you boys were going hot air ballooning, I should at least get to watch," the elder Hardy smiled. "Where’s your brother?"

Frank frowned, "He went to get his jacket from his locker, but he’s been gone too long. I was just about to go and look for him."

"I’ll go with you and we can both look for him," Fenton offered.

As the entered the stable, the only person they saw was Tad Creet. The old Indian was staggering toward them. Frank and Mr. Hardy dashed toward the old man.

When they reached Tad, he fell into Mr. Hardy’s arms. Fenton’s arms and hands were immediately covered with blood. Fenton laid the man down on the stable floor carefully.

"Your boy...gonna kill ‘im," Tad said between gasping breaths, "Balloons...Mc Intyre..." Tad Creet fell silent. Fenton felt for a pulse, but closed his eyes. The man was dead.

"What was he trying to say, Dad?" Frank asked, choked with emotion.

"Your boy...he must mean Joe," Mr. Hardy surmised, looking up at Frank, "Something about...Mc Intyre’s going to try and kill Joe. We’ve got to get out to the hot air balloons right away!"

* * *

As they walked out of the stable, Joe Hardy knew Mc Intyre was probably going to kill him. He figured he’d find out as much as possible before he had to die.

"What did you have to do with Jimmy Mc Curdy’s death?" Joe asked.

"Well," Mc Intyre smiled, "That what you’re here for boy? Who are you, really?"

"I’m a friend of Carl Whitefeather," Joe said evasively, "I wanted to clear his name. He didn’t kill Jimmy."

"You’re right ‘bout that," Mc Intyre chuckled, "Whitefeather just showed up at the right time to take the blame for that one!"

"For ‘that one’?" Joe asked, "There have been more than one murder here?"

"Ryan Wagner has a very nasty temper," Mc Intyre responded, reaching into the back of his truck and pulling out a roll of duct tape, "Put your hands behind your back and lean against the truck, boy."

Joe did as he was told, but caught sight of movement beside the stable door. Joe hoped it was Frank, but it was Tad Creet. The old man knelt down and appeared to be listening in on Joe’s conversation with Mc Intyre.

Once Joe’s hands were secured behind him, Lance opened the truck door and told Joe to get in the back of the club cab. Joe wriggled in behind the front seat. "Lay down, Boy," Lance ordered.

As Mc Intyre taped Joe’s ankles together, Joe continued his questioning, "So Ryan killed Mc Curdy. Who else did he kill?" Joe thought about Collin Anderson, Homer Chotto and the missing Cindy Kai.

"Ryan killed some drifter when he was ‘bout 16 or so," Mc Intyre offered, "He’s killed a few prostitutes, too." Joe felt sick to his stomach. "None of them were missed, ‘til he killed Jimmy. Jimmy was a good kid who just got Ryan mad. I’m ‘fraid Ryan’s gotten to a point where killin’ doesn’t bother him. He and Stu Downing killed Anderson and Chotto."

"That was your last question, kid," Mc Intyre grinned down at Joe, and then secured a piece of tape over Joe’s mouth. Lance started to step out of the truck when he saw Tad Creet sneaking back inside the stable. He didn’t want to risk the possibility that Joe might escape, but he had to go after that Indian, too.

"Sorry ‘bout this boy," Mc Intyre said before punching Joe in the side of the head. Mc Intyre left the now unconscious Joe Hardy on the seat of the truck while he took care of Tad Creet.

Lance caught up with the old man and pulled out his hunting knife. Tad heard the man and tried to run, but he grunted as the 10-inch blade of Mc Intyre’s knife plunged into his back. Creet sank to the floor and Mc Intyre hurried back to his truck.

* * *

Fenton hurriedly punched Ronnie Benson’s phone number into his cell-phone while Frank started up the Jeep Cherokee. Frank brought the engine to life. Roaring across the gravel, he threw the jeep into 4- wheel drive and bounced through the rutted field toward the north pasture.

In the distance, several hot air balloons were silhouettes against the evening sky. Frank prayed that his brother wasn’t already on board one of the gondolas below the balloons.

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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.