Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

"It practically is," responded 16 year-old Trista Kelly. "The whole town is gradually being moved out. First, all the businesses relocated, now the families are all moving away; all but three of us, anyway."

"There are only three families living in Reedville?" Frank asked incredulously.

"Yes; us, the Murphys and the Gales. Twelve of us in all. We all have to wait on the government to offer us a financial settlement for our property. If we leave before an agreement is reached between both parties, the property is considered abandoned and we get nothing," Trista explained, brushing her dark hair off her shoulder.

"So the government is closing this town? I never heard of anything like that," Joe wrinkled his brow in confusion and glanced at his brother, "Can they do that? Just shut down a whole town?"

"Actually, its being condemned," corrected Trista, smiling at Joe’s expression. "Reedville is built over part of the old, abandoned Scranton Coalmine. There’s been a fire burning through the old tunnels and shafts for about twelve years. Four years ago, the first tunnel collapsed, taking the Wilson’s backyard with it. Several more tunnels have collapsed since then and it’s been declared a major hazard now."

"Subsidence," Frank stated with a nod of understanding. "Your family is playing Russian Roulette by staying here."

"Right," Trista agreed, "but if we leave before our settlement, we lose everything."

"Unbelievable!" Joe commented as he turned down the dark side street toward Trista’s house. Reaching the small, two story structure, Trista thanked the boys and went inside, waving from the window. Frank gave a wave and Joe headed back to the town square.

"It’s creepy," Joe said, thinking out loud. He felt a shiver travel down his spine.

"Yeah," agreed Frank, "the sooner Reedville is behind us, the better."

As their late model Lumina rental entered the center of town, movement in the Reedville Community Church caught the younger Hardy’s attention.

"Frank? Is that a light in the church?"

Frank peered through the windshield. He could distinctly see a small beam of light bobbing inside the old clapboard building.

"I think you’re right, Joe. Why would someone be in that condemned building at this time of night?"

Joe brought the car to a stop across the square from the church. Both boys had their eyes fixed on the building.

"We could pretend we don’t see anything. I could just drive right out of here," Joe said, his eyes never leaving the building.

"We could probably reach Wilks-Barre before midnight if we hustle," Frank added, intently watching the light as it flickered behind the stained glass.

Both knew it was impossible to pass up a chance to investigate and, without a word, exited the car. Frank grabbed a flashlight from the glove compartment while Joe locked their documents in the trunk. They walked silently toward the church.

The heavy front doors were covered with peeling red paint. Joe pulled on one of the handles and the door groaned softly as it opened. Frank took the flashlight and carefully played the beam inside.

The small vestibule was empty except for an empty coat rack and an abundance of dust. Frank moved the light around and found a row of light switches along one wall. He struck the switches and jumped when the room was suddenly flooded with defused light.

"Whoa!" whispered Joe, also startled by the presence of electricity. "Why would their still be power on if this building is condemned?"

"Maybe they’re still salvaging things from these buildings," Frank suggested.

"See anyone?" Joe asked, trying to peer into the dimly lit room beyond the arched doorway.

"No," Frank answered, "but he could be anywhere. Half the bulbs are missing and there’re lots of shadows to hide in."

The boys entered the long, narrow sanctuary and started down the center aisle, shining the flashlight down each pew on both sides. There were many footprints in the dust on the floor, but they were too jumbled to discern a pattern, direction or size.

They were about half way down the center aisle when both boys jumped. They heard a muffled bang at the front of the church, off to the right. Joe, always more impulsive, shuffled down the nearest pew and sprinted toward where the sound had come from.

"Joe! Wait!" Frank called out, but shook his head as he watched Joe disappear in the darkness that still hid the front of the church.

Frank continued down the aisle, stopping at the bottom of a set of stairs. He played the beam of the flashlight up the stairs and onto the platform.

Moments before, Joe had found an exit off to the right of the same platform in the front of the church. He moved to the door and cautiously opened it. The small entryway was deserted. Joe proceeded to the outer door. It opened to a cemetery beside the old church. Joe glanced around, watching for movement. Seeing nothing, he returned to the sanctuary to find his brother.

Frank had been shocked at the sight on the platform, but quickly composed himself and searched for the lights to the platform. Finding them, the area was now bathed in muted light.

"I see you found the li…," Joe came to an abrupt halt at the foot of the stairs leading to the platform. He looked at Frank and felt nauseous.

Frank glanced in Joe’s direction, "She’s dead." Joe’s blue eyes went from his brother’s brown eyes to the pale wrist Frank was holding under a sheet of milk-colored plastic.

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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.