Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

"Help me turn her over so we can see her face," the older Hardy boy said. Joe stared incredulously at Frank for a moment before swallowing the bile in his throat and climbing over the alter rail, up the steps and onto the platform.

The plastic that entombed the girl was a whitish, semi- transparent material, used to winterize windows. The inside of the plastic was splattered and smeared with blood, but you could still make out the distinct outline of a young woman’s body.

"Let’s turn her carefully. I don’t want to ruin any evidence," Frank stated. "Joe, use your shirt tail to grab the plastic. We don’t want to have our fingerprints on it."

Joe nodded and held his breath against the stench of blood as he helped Frank turn the girl over. Joe couldn’t keep from gagging as her head lolled to the side at an odd angle.

"Oh, gross!" the younger Hardy murmured, stepping back as Frank gently moved the long, blond hair away from her battered face.

"The broken neck is what probably killed her," Frank said. "Joe. Look at this," Frank added, turning her hand so the palm was exposed.

"Do I have to?" Joe asked, his stomach churning. Frank gave Joe a look that clearly said ‘be professional’; Joe reluctantly complied and moved closer to the corpse.

"Is that a hole in her hand?"

Frank nodded and reached into the bloody, plastic shroud for her other wrist. Joe shuttered as Frank peered at her other hand.

"Same," Frank commented. "She was obviously tortured before she died."

"What should we do now?" Joe asked, "I mean we can’t just leave her here."

"Drive back to Trista’s house and have her call the police," Frank ordered, "I’ll look around here for more clues, though I doubt I’ll find much. He didn’t kill her here."

"Right. He wouldn’t need the plastic," Joe agreed, "that was just to transport her." Frank gave Joe a small smile, noting that Joe’s attitude and mind-set had shifted into detective mode.

"Keep the flashlight with you," Joe suggested, "You might need it to bean someone if they return."

* * *

He smiled. They would all belong to him tonight. He had been upset earlier when he discovered that the Kelly family wasn’t at home. Now he’d get the Kelly girl. The two boys would replace Henry and Doris Kelly, the girl’s parents. It couldn’t have worked out better. He needed to make sure they couldn’t leave. He grinned as he moved to their rented car. In minutes, the car was disabled and he headed down a dark street.

* * *

The rain had died down to an annoying drizzle as Joe Hardy walked out to the rented Lumina and climbed behind the wheel. He turned the key, but the only sound was an empty click. Perplexed, Joe popped the hood and took a look at the engine. Joe swallowed hard and immediately looked all around the town square. Someone had deliberately messed with the car. The Lumina’s battery was missing and all the hoses had been slashed.

* * *

Trista Kelly had carefully locked the door after waving good-bye to the Hardy brothers. Picturing her two knights-in-shining-armor brought a smile to her petite, pretty features.

She greeted her gray cat, Mouser and headed for the kitchen. She checked the house, secured the back door and discovered a note from her parents. They were in Keen, a nearby town, spending the night with friends and wouldn’t be in until the morning. Sighing and not overly thrilled about spending the night alone, Trista grabbed a Pop-tart from the box and went upstairs to get dressed for bed.

* * *

Frank had started to move away from the dead girl when something caught his eye.

He gently shifted the corpse with his knee to study the red circle painted under her. "Odd," Frank pondered. He gently rolled her away from the red circle to get a better look.

The circle had been spray painted and a red number "13" was in the center. Frank frowned and touched the circle. The paint was still sticky and his fingertips smelled of fresh paint. Something clicked in his mind. He’d seen this somewhere else.

"Outside on the church wall," he said out loud. He was on his feet and heading for the door when he heard Joe calling his name from outside.

* * *

Trista had changed into an over-sized t-shirt and decided to have a second Pop-tart before going to bed.

She walked into the kitchen with Mouser close beside her feet. She grabbed a Pop-tart from the box and went to pour some milk for her and Mouser, too.

Trista had just finished putting the milk away when she felt a shiver up her spine, like someone was watching her. She peered nervously around the kitchen. The door was securely locked. She went to the window to check the lock.

When she pulled back the curtains, she saw a man standing in her backyard. He was dressed in black and he had a cross-bow in his hand.

Trista gasped and dropped her glass of milk, making Mouser screech and take cover under the table. Trista ran to the phone and began dialing, realizing immediately that there was no dial tone. The earlier storm may have knocked out the phone lines or the creep in the back yard; either way, she couldn’t call for help.

* * *

Joe bit his bottom lip nervously. It had to have been the guy in the church that wrecked the Lumina. Joe hadn’t chased him to the street, only to the cemetery.

Joe’s heart began to race as another thought filled his mind. If the guy killed that girl in the church, would he be seeking another victim?

‘Trista!’ Joe thought, calling for Frank as he ran.

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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.