Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

Frank Hardy opened his eyes. He was lying in the grass near a river. People were moving around him. Cool, moist air filled his nostrils and scorched throat.

“Breathe! Come on, kid!”

Frank focused on the voice. Sheriff Leroy Longtooth was kneeling beside someone; kissing someone. ‘No,’ Frank shook his head, ‘not kissing; breathing.’ He concentrated on the two figures.

“Joe?” Frank tugged off the oxygen mask as realization filled him with dread. Longtooth was doing CPR on his brother! He tried to stand, but quickly fell to his knees.

“Hey, buddy,” said a voice belonging to an EMT that quickly grabbed Frank. “You need to take it easy.”

“M-my brother!” Frank croaked out, coughing.

“He’s breathing now,” the EMT stated. “My partner’s giving him oxygen.” The guy’s tag said his name was Zach Marshall. Seeing Zach’s partner now working on Joe, Frank sighed and thanked the man.

Sheriff Longtooth rubbed a weary hand over his face. That had been too close. The kid’s lips had started to turn blue. He glanced up and caught Frank Hardy’s worried gaze. He made his way to the dark-haired teen.

“You okay?” Longtooth asked. Frank nodded. They both looked toward the smoldering heap that had once been Campton’s home.

“You’re going to the hospital. I’ll have one of my deputies call Bayer and let him know. We’ll get your van back to Bayer’s place, too,” the sheriff stated. “In the morning, I’ll want to know exactly what happened out here.”

“W-we’re supposed to be dead,” Frank said, through the mask. He closed his eyes and waited for the pain in his throat to diminish.

“Yes,” Longtooth agreed. “I’ll post some deputies at the hospital. Could be, whoever tried to kill you three will want to finish the job.”

“The evidence,” Frank hoarsely said, “is in Billy’s bag.”

“I’ve got it,” Longtooth stated, patting Frank on the shoulder. “Get some rest, Mr. Hardy.”

* * *

“This is all so crazy!” Catherine Laeche cried on the way to the hospital. “First someone kills Mark and now, someone tries to kill Frank, Joe and Billy!”

“Thank God, whoever is doing this was unsuccessful tonight,” Chris stated soberly.

“Frank and Joe must have figured out something for someone to try and kill them,” Biff Hooper called from the seat in the back of Catherine’s Envoy.

“Or,” Phil interjected, “they are just getting too close for comfort.”

“Or,” added Chet, “they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“No,” Luke countered, “they found something. That’s why they called the sheriff.”

Chris slammed his fist on the steering wheel. “I want to know who’s behind this!”

* * *

It was already dusk when he reached Mesa Ochre Village. He crept to the dark adobe house. He knew the owner was not there tonight.

He let himself inside through the front door, as he had many times before. He did not want any of the neighbors to see him, so he left the lights off as he made his way into the kitchen at the back of the house.

He pulled open the utility drawer, but closed it again; too obvious. He reached down to the drawer that was filled with dishtowels. With a smile playing on his lips, he slid the Hopi Manyteeth into the bottom of the drawer.

Like a shadow, he slipped away into the night.

* * *

Joe Hardy knew he wasn’t in Heaven because his throat and chest hurt too much. He felt like he was choking, yet he knew he was breathing okay.

He slowly opened his eyes. The room was cool and pleasantly dark. Soft light filtered in from some unseen source. Joe was grateful for the darkness; he could only imagine how much pain bright light would cause his stinging eyes.

Joe tried to call for his brother, but something was blocking his mouth, holding his tongue down. He tried to move, to see what was wrong as panic filled him.

“Sh-h-h, you’re okay, Joe.”

Joe turned toward the voice and recognized Catherine. She gently brushed the hair off his forehead and spoke in a soft voice. “They have you on a respirator. That’s why you can’t talk right now. Your throat and lungs were seared by the heat. They want to keep you on it over night and wean you off in the morning. You’re lucky you don’t have a concussion, too.”

Joe nodded, as best he could. Catherine smiled and continued, “Frank is downstairs in another room. He’s suffering from mild smoke inhalation. They just want to watch him overnight. Because he was in the closet, he didn’t suck in as much heated air as you and Billy, though his throat is pretty sore.”

Joe looked up at the mention of Billy Moss’s name. He raised his eyebrows in a questioning manner.

“Billy’s in pretty bad shape, Joe,” Catherine responded. “He has a severe concussion, smoke inhalation, and seared lungs and throat, too. You both are in the Intensive Care Unit right now, but you’ll be moved out of here in the morning, if you’re breathing all right on your own.

“Get some rest now,” Catherine advised. “Both Chris and I are staying for the night, so one of us will be here with you all the time.”

Joe managed to give her a ‘thumb’s up’ before he drifted off to sleep.

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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.