Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

It was almost midnight by the time Sheriff Leroy Longtooth checked in with the two deputies he’d posted on Soda Canyon Overlook. All was quiet and peaceful in Mesa Verde, according to the officers.

Longtooth drove to the entrance of Balcony House. He stood near the gate and gazed up at the cliff dwelling.

“What are your secrets? Why was Campton murdered within your walls?” he said softly. Sighing, he climbed back into his vehicle and drove home to catch a few hours of precious sleep before going to question the Hardy brothers in the morning.

* * *

Early the next morning, Matoka Hrappowi threw down the early edition of the newspaper angrily. He cursed as coffee splattered all over the article about the fire the previous evening.

“‘Three injured’ should be three dead,” the old man sneered. “Should have been more thorough.”

In another part of the county, a second man stood silently listening to the early morning news on the television. He swore under his breath as he listened to the report on the burning of Mark Campton’s house.

Things were not progressing well. It was time to move everything up a notch. There was far too much to lose.

* * *

As predicted, Joe Hardy was breathing on his own by morning and was moved out of the Intensive Care Unit. At first, the doctor insisted that Joe stay an extra night in the hospital as a precaution.

Turning on the charm, the younger Hardy finally convinced Dr. Ryder that he would rest at Chris Bayer’s apartment all day if she would just discharge him along with his brother, Frank.

“Joe,” Catherine said with a sly smile as she drove her Envoy toward Chris’s apartment, “you realize that Frank and I are witness to your promise of resting all day.”

“You’re not going to make me hold to that, are you?” Joe asked, his sapphire eyes wide. “Other than a slight headache and my throat being sore from that stupid tube they had stuck down it all night, I’m perfectly fine!”

Joe’s voice was harsh and scratchy sounding and Catherine suspected the breathing tube the doctor removed early that morning had definitely contributed, but she also knew the young man had almost died from smoke inhalation.

She glanced at Frank and recognized the worried frown that marred his handsome features. Catherine looked out at the road ahead. Chris had been needed at work so he sent Catherine to pick up the boys. He had trusted her to look after them.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better, Joe,” she carefully began, “but I believe the doctor knows what is best for you right now. When we get to the apartment, I want you to get right to bed…”

“That’s crazy!” Joe burst out. “We need to get back into this investigation!”

“No,” Frank added. “We take the rest of today off, little brother. Neither of us is 100% yet, and wouldn’t be working at our best. That could be disastrous and you know that from past experience, Joe.”

Frank and Catherine exchanged a look of mutual satisfaction when Joe didn’t protest any farther. Instead, the seventeen year old slouched and was moodily silent the rest of the trip.

At the apartment, Joe was quickly hustled off to bed in Chris’s bedroom. Frank then met with his friends in the small living room.

He listened, mesmerized by their story of the lone climber at Balcony House.

* * *

The man sat in the driver’s seat of his gray pick-up truck. He had watched as Catherine Laeche and two of the teenage visitors from New York walked into Chris Bayer’s first floor apartment.

He’d been in the apartment once, and was quite sure the window he was watching was in the bedroom. He saw movement within the room and decided to take a closer look.

He exited his pick-up and moved across the deserted street. Grateful that Bayer lived on the ground floor, he crouched near the shrubs below the window, hidden to any passing cars. He raised himself high enough to see inside. The open curtain afforded him a view of Miss Laeche talking to a sulking blond-haired boy.

The woman left the room and the kid reluctantly stripped to his shorts and climbed into the bed. The man eased away from the window and made his way back to his truck

Picking up his cell phone, he placed a call.

* * *

“This should be such a happy time for Cath and me,” Chris Bayer complained as he helped load equipment into the back of the jeep. “We shouldn’t have any worries except if there will be enough food for the reception!”

Bull Byron grinned, “After watching that group of teenagers you’ve got here, that should be a major concern, my friend.”

Chris smiled, “Thanks, Bull.”

“Just trying to keep things in perspective, Chris,” Byron stated, clapping the younger man on the back.

The pair climbed into the jeep and were about to drive off, when Byron’s cell phone chirped to life in his pocket. He retrieved the device and listened intently to the caller.

“Problem?” Chris questioned as Bull put the phone away.

“Naw,” Byron answered, “Just a salesman.”

Chris Bayer didn’t know who his employer had been listening to, or what the caller had wanted; but he did know from Bull Byron’s creased brow, that the caller had definitely not been a salesman. Why had Bull lied to him?

Let the author know what you think of this story

Home Library Authors Rogue's Gallery Vehicles Chums Message Board Rap Sheet Links Contact

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.