and Hardy Boys Rendezvous Presents:
hardy boys fan fiction
CONTRACT FOR A DEAD MAN
3rd Place - McFarlane Location Contest
- 2004
hardy boys nancy drew fan fiction
by
CQB
Chapter
2
hardy boys fan fiction
THE CHAPTERS
The boys were in their black customized van, heading down Shore Road toward the old mill. Frank sat in the driver’s seat with Joe occupying the front passenger seat.
"What do you think Mr. Meadows plans to do with the mill? I mean, it is pretty run down," Joe questioned.
"I asked Dad that same question before he left for the west coast this evening," Frank replied. "He said that Mr. Meadows and his wife Gladys collect antiques. They felt the mill had the right atmosphere to display the antiques they plan to sell. They’ve already begun some remodeling."
"A store way out here? Their stuff would have to be pretty exceptional for it to work out," Joe surmised.
"Joe Hardy, consumer expert," Frank quipped with a smile.
"Alright, what’s the plan Brain?" Joe teased.
"Until Dad finishes up his current case in California, he wants us to keep an eye on the mill and watch for anything strange or unusual."
"Like a ghost wandering around?" Joe laughed.
Frank shook his head, and continued, "I thought we could camp out in the mill for a few nights. We’re off school ‘til Tuesday. That gives us three nights to catch the ghost."
"Da-nanananana-da-da, ‘Ghostbusters!’" Joe sang, referring to an old movie.
When they reached the mill, the boys got out of their van and walked around the structure. It stirred a lot of memories for the young detectives.
"Let’s get our gear and head inside," Frank suggested, "No ghost will show up with us standing around gawking." Joe agreed and they both grabbed sleeping bags and backpacks from the back of the van.
Tossing a coin in the air, Joe lost and had to take first watch for the night. He would stay on the main floor while Frank slept on the second floor.
* * *
Torrance Poole sighed wearily as his clear blue eyes read the Bayport City Limits sign on the side of the expressway. He had originally thought this would be an easy job, but now he was working hard to earn the quarter-of-a-million dollars he would get once he completed the task.
Poole pulled his grey Dodge panel van into the parking lot of the first motel he encountered in the city. It was a single story structure in need of a paint job, but he found the room to be clean and the water in the shower was hot.
He called a local pizza joint and asked to have a medium pepperoni pie delivered to his room. While he waited, Poole watched the television and cleaned the silencer that fit on the end of his .357 Magnum.
* * *
Joe was feeling restless as he wandered through the first floor of the mill. He’d tried to stay in one place, but found himself dozing in the warm, musty room.
He glanced at his watch for the hundredth time. He was to wake Frank at 2 a.m. for the second watch, but it was only 12:45. Joe sighed and settled back down in the corner of the mill, behind an old desk. Grabbing a pen and tablet from his backpack, he began jotting down the lyrics to all the songs he could remember, just to stay awake.
Joe had written down his third Bon Jovi song, when he heard the floorboards creak on the far side of the main room. He laid the pen and paper on the floor and crept to the doorway, peering into the room.
Joe’s breath caught in his throat and he couldn’t believe his eyes. Across the room rose a ghostly white shape from behind the huge grinding wheel. Joe watched in shocked silence as the figure moved without a sound into the storage area behind the staircase. With the ghost so close to the stairs, Joe couldn’t risk getting Frank. He helplessly watched as the ghost carried a pillowcase full of stolen items back behind the grinding wheel.
As soon as the thief was out of sight, Joe yelled for Frank and followed the ghost. He went behind the wheel and found a trap door that led outside. Realizing it had probably been where grain was once sent out to waiting wagons, Joe moved through the small door and jumped the six foot distance to the ground below, rolling as he landed.
Joe stood and caught sight of the ghost as it moved over a small rise, disappearing behind an oak tree. Joe followed as quickly as his feet would move. When he crested the rise, he ran down past the oak, hoping he hadn’t lost all visual contact with the thieving ghost.
Joe began to wonder if the ghost had just vanished into thin air as he ran quickly along the far side of the rise in the direction he hoped the ghost had taken.
Suddenly, without any
warning, the ground beneath his running feet seemed to open up and Joe
Hardy was swallowed into the earth.
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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.