Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

"I doubt they’re complaining, Ivan," Fenton Hardy chuckled, "I’m sure they’re enjoying the scenic drive through the Appalachian foothills, and the time off from school."

"Speaking of my boys," Fenton continued, "I think I’ll check in with them, if you don’t mind."

"By all means," Mr. Davenport encouraged. Fenton immediately pulled out his cell phone and dialed Frank’s cell phone number.

"H-m-m. That’s strange." Mr. Hardy commented, "There doesn’t seem to be any coverage wherever they’re at right now."

"Not surprising, Fenton," stated his host, "There’s poor coverage in many areas because of the mountains. I’m sure they’ll be at the hotel shortly if they followed the directions carefully."

"Well," Mr. Hardy smiled, "You’re probably right. I’m going to head to the hotel myself and get settled in. Thank you for dinner and we’ll see you in the morning at the museum."

* * *

"Joe! What’s wrong?" Frank called across the Reedville square. His younger brother was sprinting in his direction.

"Let’s go, Frank," Joe cried, catching his breath, "We’ve got to get to Trista." Frowning, but trusting that Joe was on to something, Frank caught up to his brother and ran down Trista’s street. In route to Trista’s house, Joe quickly filled Frank in on what had happened to the rental.

"Someone wants to keep us around," Frank surmised, not thrilled at the prospect of being stranded in a virtual ghost town with a killer.

"Or maybe just keep us from getting to Trista in time," Joe added, pushing his legs harder.

As they approached the Kelly’s front porch, both boys heard a terrified scream come from the back of the house. They tore around the building and dashed up the back steps.

"Trista!" Joe yelled, yanking on the door. It wouldn’t budge.

"Here," Frank said, handing Joe a rock from the yard. Joe grabbed the rock and smashed the window in the top half of the door. He quickly brushed away the glass fragments from the sill with the edge of the rock and reached inside to turn the lock.

Trista Kelly had run upstairs as soon as she realized the phone was dead. She pulled on her jeans and shoes, grabbed her softball bat and moved back down stairs. Trista shut off the lights so the man outside couldn’t see where she was, and then knelt on the floor in the kitchen to wait.

She heard him before she saw him. Heavy footsteps sounded on the back porch. She wanted to close her eyes but forced herself to look at the window, waiting for a face to appear between the curtains. When he finally peered in, Trista lost control and screamed.

Trista waited for him to break the glass with the cross-bow she’d seen in his hand. She crawled out from under the kitchen table, preparing to smash him with the bat as soon as he came in the room.

"Trista!"

‘Does he know me?’ Trista wondered, having heard someone shouting her name. More footsteps on the porch brought Trista to attention. She focused on the door as the window above the doorknob shattered and a hand reached for the lock.

Scrambling forward on her knees, she was about to swing the bat against the groping hand when she recognized the voice.

"Trista! It’s Joe and Frank Hardy! Are you alright?"

"Joe! Frank!" she cried, pulling the door open and causing the Hardy brothers to fall into the kitchen, Frank landing on Joe’s legs. As the boys struggled to sit up, Trista reached for them.

"I-I t-thought it w-was him!" she sobbed, clinging to Joe as Frank pushed the door shut.

"Who? Who did you see?" Joe asked calmly.

"A m-man dressed in black," Trista answered, "He had a cross-bow. I-I thought…" her voice trailing into sobs.

Frank grabbed the bat and stepped outside. Turning on the flashlight, he thoroughly searched the back yard. There was no sign of the man in black Trista had seen.

"We probably scared him off," Frank said, coming back inside. He noticed that Trista was considerably calmer as she sipped on a cup of water.

"W-why did you c-come back? You c-couldn’t have known I was in trouble," Trista asked, suddenly apprehensive. Joe and Frank exchanged a glance. They needed to get her out of this town.

"We found a dead girl in the church," Frank said quietly, "It looks like someone murdered her. Joe was afraid he’d come here next." They filled Trista in on what happened to their car as well.

"If you had a battery, could you fix the rental?" Trista asked Joe.

"Possibly," Joe replied. "I’d need some strong adhesive tape, too. The hoses are cut." Trista took Joe by the hand and led him to the attached garage.

"Dad tinkers with old cars in his spare time," she explained, "He always has a battery charging in case he needs to test something." She pointed to a bench where three car batteries were attached to battery chargers. Spare hoses and clamps were hanging from the walls as well. Joe smiled and grabbed what he thought he might need to fix the Lumina.

Wrapping it all up in an old canvas bag, Joe and Trista went back to the kitchen. They agreed with Frank that they should stick together from that point on and cautiously headed out the door toward the town square.

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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.