Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

Two men in fatigues reached the platform and knelt beside the body of the blond man they had just shot down. Fenton had reached Joe’s prone body and felt for his son’s pulse. He smiled faintly at the rapid beating of Joe’s heart.

Frank sat up and looked around him. Several police officers and soldiers were pulling burning debris away from the wrecked Chevy. Two soldiers were carrying away the body of the man who had terrorized them for the past several hours.

"Dad?" Frank’s voice croaked.

Fenton had been helping Srgt. Clayton pry the nail up that was pinning Joe’s hand to the platform. He turned to face Frank, reaching to embrace his oldest son.

"You okay, Frank?" Fenton asked, his voice laced with concern.

"Busted my leg," Frank replied, keeping his eyes fixed on Clayton as the man pulled the nail loose. Frank flinched at the sight of the bloody hole in his brother’s hand. It reminded him of the girl’s body still stowed away in the choir loft.

"Is Joe alright?" Frank asked, hearing his brother moaning softly.

Clayton glanced over at Frank and Fenton. "He’s in bad shape," the officer offered, "but I think he’ll make it. The troopers called for a chopper to come pick you boys up."

He looked at Fenton, "They’ll life-flight them both to Scranton Memorial Hospital. We can follow in my bird."

Joe and Frank were loaded in the back of an army truck and taken to the Med-vac helicopter that had landed near the two-seater Fenton and Clayton had arrived in.

Before he was loaded on the copter, Frank informed the army personnel of the location of the five people who had died that night. He also told them about the Murphy family, not knowing if they were dead or alive.

The Med-vac lifted off and Frank glanced out the window of the helicopter. He shuttered as he saw the burning wreckage of the church in the distance. He then turned to look at the still form lying on the opposite side of him.

Joe was pale and unnaturally quiet. Frank closed his eyes and said a silent prayer for his brother before drifting off in an exhausted sleep.

* * *

The army reserves found the Murphy family alive and totally oblivious to all that had transpired in their town over night. They were allowed to pack a few belongings before they were taken to a hotel in Scranton.

The State Troopers checked the Kelly’s house as well, making sure it was secure against vandals until the family could collect their belongings. Officer Denny Weis found Trista’s cat, Mouser. He personally delivered the feline to his owner in Keen.

The bodies of the Gales, the unidentified girl and the killer were taken to Scranton.

Fire fighters let the church burn after the injured and dead were removed. They kept hoses on the nearby structures to control the blaze. Once the flames hit the gas tank of the car, the church was quickly consumed.

By late afternoon, the only souls left in Reedville were a handful of reservists, guarding the entrances to the small town.

* * *

After he’d phoned his wife in Bayport, Fenton Hardy phoned Ivan Davenport at the museum, explaining that his documents were being delivered by the Keen police to the Wilks-Barre Coal Museum later that day.

Mr. Hardy had wondered why Davenport seemed so distracted as Fenton had related the events of the early morning in Reedville to the man.

He hung up the phone on the hospital table and glanced at his sleeping sons. Frank’s leg had been set and now hung slightly above the bed in a pulley-operated sling. He was being given an IV of antibiotics and saline, as precautionary measures.

Fenton moved to the second bed in the room and watched Joe’s chest rising and falling with each breath, an IV dripping steadily into his left arm. His right hand had required eighteen stitches, but fortunately, there had been no broken bones or nerve damage. Joe sported a white gauze bandage around his head and was suffering from a concussion. Fenton hoped Joe’s prolonged unconsciousness was due to exhaustion and not a complication from the concussion.

* * *

Fenton woke a few hours later, having fallen asleep in the chair between his son’s beds. He checked Joe, and found him still sleeping, but when he looked at Frank, the older boy was watching his brother.

"How are you feeling?" Fenton asked, tenderly brushing Frank’s dark hair off his forehead.

"Sore and tired, but mostly relieved," Frank answered, looking into his father’s dark brown eyes. "How’s Joe?"

"Sleeping peacefully," his father answered, "We won’t know much ‘til he wakes up."

Just then, Keen Police Chief Walter Lake knocked on the hospital room door. Fenton stood and met the man, escorting him into the room.

"There are some things you all should know," the chief began. He explained that the Murphy family was fine and Reedville was shut down, permanently. The Murphys and the Kellys would be allowed, under police escort, to retrieve their possessions, but would not be returning to their homes to live. The state department had been notified of the situation and neither family would loose their compensation money for their properties.

"The young girl was identified, also," Lake continued. "Her name was Mary Beth Sherwood. She was twenty years old and lived in Keen."

"What about ‘Judas’?" Frank asked, "Do you know who he really was?"

"He had a wallet in his pocket," the police officer replied, "We’ve tracked down his next of kin in Wilks-Barre. The man’s name was Daniel Eugene Davenport. Seems he had a history of mental illness and believed if he killed enough people, Judas would live in him and he’d live forever. His father, Ivan Davenport, said his son liked to hunt with a cross-bow."

Fenton was shocked. He shook his head and glanced at Frank. "I didn’t even know Davenport had a son."

They bid farewell to the Police Chief of Keen. Fenton walked him to the door.

"A lot of people died last night," Lake said, shaking Fenton’s hand, "but thanks to your boys, a lot of people are still alive."

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.