hardy boys fan fiction

DESERT DECEIT
 hardy boys nancy drew fan fiction

by

CQB

Chapter 13

 hardy boys fan fiction

 

THE CHAPTERS

INTRO

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 29

CHAPTER 30

 

 

 

 

 

Everything at Balcony House was safe, at least for the time being.  The merchandise would have to be moved soon, though it was too bad.  Until Mark Campton stumbled onto them, the whole operation had been perfect.

He put his climbing gear in the hall closet as he continued to speculate. Cutting Campton in on the deal was bad news.  He hadn’t trusted Campton.  The man was not one of them.

He hadn’t meant to kill him, but self-preservation kicked in when he saw Campton at Balcony House the night of the pick-up. 

“If you hadn’t said anything about telling Catherine, you’d probably still be alive,” the man said, wondering if Campton’s spirit still heard the voices of men on earth.

He walked to the fireplace in his living room and tugged on the loose stone.  From the space behind it, he pulled out a bound cloth package. 

“Time to get rid of this,” the man stated as he unwrapped the package.  He peered at the knife, crusted with Mark Campton’s blood.  He smiled as he thought about the perfect place they’d chosen to plant it.

* * *

“Get it now, my young friend,” the man waved his Taurus semi-automatic.

Frank scanned around the room quickly for an escape or distraction, but with the gunman so close to Billy Moss, he saw no way out.

Billy looked from the gun to the man holding it.  He instinctively knew the older man wouldn’t hesitate to use the weapon.  Billy hoped that Frank wouldn’t try anything stupid.

“Just give him what he wants, Frank!” Billy finally said through gritted teeth.

Reluctantly, Frank pulled the CD off the shelf.

“Set it on the coffee table,” the gunman ordered.  Frank complied, silently praying that his brother was nearby.

Now that the man had what he wanted, Frank knew he and Billy were expendable, especially since they had both seen the man’s face.

With lightening speed, the man brought his gun up and slammed it into the side of Billy’s head.  Frank started to move forward, but the old guy was too fast.

“Don’t move youngster,” the man said, pulling the gun up and pointing it at Frank as Billy crumbled to the floor.  “Now, turn around.”

Frank turned slowly, expecting a bullet in his back.

“Go to the closet there in front of you and get in,” the man ordered.  Frank followed the man’s instructions and as he stepped through the doorway, a solid blow cracked against the back of his skull.  As he slipped into unconsciousness, Frank heard the closet door slam shut.

The old man moved quickly; first pocketing the CD, then shoving a chair under the doorknob of the closet, locking Frank securely inside.  He then pulled Billy out of view from anyone coming into the cabin.

He didn’t like what was about to be done, but he’d invested too much to lose it all now because of Moss and a couple nosey kids.  He’d wait for the other boy to return, and then he’d kill them all.

* * *

“You’re welcome,” Joe said sarcastically to the silent cell phone.  He knew the sheriff wouldn’t be thrilled to hear about him and Frank checking out Campton’s place with Billy Moss, but Joe thought Longtooth would at least appreciate what they had uncovered.

He began the trek back to the cabin, wishing he’d let Billy talk to the sheriff.  As he came up the back path, Joe suddenly felt a wave of apprehension.  Something didn’t feel right.

Frank sometimes teased Joe about having a ‘sixth sense’.  He felt Joe relied far too much on feelings and intuition.  But Joe knew his hunches were often right on the mark.  His dad often said Joe’s insight was a gift and when it was balanced with Frank’s strong logic and analytical thoughtfulness, the boys made an unstoppable detective team.

Joe moved up to the back of the cabin stealthily.  He looked around for something to use as a weapon, if needed.  He spotted a broken axe handle and grabbed it, holding it like a baseball bat.  Joe peered through the window of the back door.  The room was still and there was no sign of Frank or Billy.

‘This is too weird,’ Joe speculated.  He walked silently around the side of the cabin and saw their van still parked where they had left it on the gravel lane, several yards away. 

He moved up on the front porch and looked through the large window.  Nothing looked out of place except that Frank and Billy were nowhere to be seen. 

Still clutching the axe handle, Joe slowly opened the front door.  The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the room, so Joe moved cautiously into the small house.  He noticed that the computer was shut, but Billy’s CSI kit was still on the floor beside the coffee table.

Joe heard a soft moan coming from behind the sofa and he moved quickly across the room to investigate.  He gasped as he saw Billy lying semi-conscious on the hardwood floor.  He frowned as he caught sight of the chair wedged under the doorknob of the closet near Billy’s feet. As he moved around the sofa to check on Moss, Joe heard a footfall behind him.  He started to turn, hoping it was his brother.

The blow was swift, hitting him near the left temple.  Joe glimpsed a man with gray hair.  As darkness descended, clouding his thoughts, Joe wondered why the man was smiling.

Joe’s assailant left the cabin long enough to grab the gas can he’d tied to his horse’s saddle.  Grasping the red plastic container, he went back inside.  He splashed the foul scented liquid throughout the interior of the house, until the canister was empty. Throwing the container into the corner, he glanced around one last time.  He looked at the two young men near the door of the closet and felt a pang of guilt.  He’d never dreamt his small-time smuggling would lead to murder.

Outside, the old man climbed on his horse and rode the chestnut mare near the front steps of the cabin.  He pulled the oil-soaked rag from his saddle pouch and lit the end on fire with a match.  He threw the burning fabric through the open door.

He galloped off just as a loud whoosh sounded inside the cabin.  The burning rag had found the gasoline.

 

 

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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.