Fenton Hardy watched in a horror as a large man fired a pistol into the shoulder of a child. The little girl’s terrified screams of fear turned into a wail of pain that tore through his heart. He raised his own weapon toward the man.

“Get away from her now!” Fenton shouted.

Sydney Stewart looked up at the young detective and froze. He dropped his weapon and stepped away from Monica. He looked to his boss, but David Conley was nowhere in sight.

“That was the dumbest thing I’ve ever…” Franklin’s tirade ended when he saw his granddaughter bleeding in the rickety chair. He rushed to Monica’s side.

“It’s alright, honey,” Franklin said softly, gently pressing his handkerchief against the wound. “We’re going to get you out of this awful place right now.”

Monica didn’t respond through the haze of pain and shock, yet in her heart, she knew this man was good and was going to help her. She closed her eyes and drifted into the welcoming darkness.

“Dad,” Fenton addressed Franklin after tying Stewart’s hands and ankles with the man’s own shoelaces, “Conley got away.”

“Our main objective just changed, Fent,” the older man stated. “Right now, Monica is all that matters.” 

Fenton nodded, and using his own handkerchief, picked up the phone David Conley had abandoned and dialed for an ambulance, just as the police swarmed into the building to take control of the situation.

* * *

Frank and Joe sat still and quiet as their mother carefully explained that their Nana was sick and would be staying with them until Pap Pap came home.

“I know I can count on you to be gentle around Nana,” Laura Hardy finished, looking from one small face to the other.

“Is Nana con…con..” Frank tried to remember the big word that meant you could ‘catch’ someone else’s sickness.

“No, she’s not contagious,” Laura finished for him, and smiled at Joe’s perplexed _expression. “You can’t catch Nana’s sickness,” she explained.

“What should we do?” Joe asked sincerely.

“Love her,” Laura replied, kissing each of them.

* * *

David Conley could hear the sirens in the distance as the police converged on the old warehouse. The first of them had arrived just after he’d pulled onto the main road. He watched his mirrors closely to see if any of the patrol cars were pursuing him. None followed him.

Conley went over the last few minutes in his mind’s eye. He saw Fenton rush into the room and quickly moved out of the line of fire. The dark red hair, the mustache – Carter. At first, he couldn’t figure out how Carter fit into this at all. What did he have to do with Owen Hardy?

Suddenly the pieces fell together. The two men at Owen’s house; one was the same exact build as Carter. Carter had to be Owen’s brother. Why the disguise, the whole ‘courier’ scam, unless…Owen’s brother was a cop!

As he drove, the anger toward Owen Hardy and his family was growing like a volcano about to explode. ‘Cop! His stinkin’ brother is a cop!’ He fumed.

He hoped that Stewart had been killed by Owen’s cop brother. ‘He knew! He had them checked out and he didn’t tell me!’

Conley finally pulled into his own garage. He had to work fast. Stewart, if he wasn’t killed, would tell the local cops everything.

Conley raced to his study and booted up his computer. He would find anything and everything he could about Owen Hardy’s precious family.

* * *

Monica Hardy was rushed into surgery as soon as the ambulance reached the hospital. Fenton had ridden in the ambulance with his niece while Franklin followed in his rental.

On the drive in, Franklin telephoned Owen and Camille, telling them to meet them at the hospital. Franklin purposely avoided telling them that David Conley had escaped; that could wait until later.

“Where is she? Where’s my baby?” Camille cried as she ran into the hospital, Owen a few steps behind her. Franklin saw the young couple and moved quickly beside them.

“She’s going to be alright,” he said, putting an arm around his trembling daughter-in-law. “They took her into surgery to look at her arm and shoulder, but the medics in the ambulance told Fenton that she should be just fine.”

Owen Hardy looked at his father carefully. Was he telling them everything? The older man looked tired, but he looked sincere.

“Where’s Fenton?” Owen asked as they sat down in the waiting room.

“He rode in with Monica, but then went with the police,” Franklin explained.

“With the police?” Owen questioned. “Conley’s been arrested, right?”

“Actually,” Franklin began, “Conley escaped. But they have a man named Stewart in custody. “Don’t worry. It’s only a matter of time before David Conley is behind bars!”

“Hardy family?”

All three looked up at the doctor still in surgical scrubs. He gave them a warm smile and shook hands with each of them before sitting across the small table from them.

“I’m Dr. Ruben Fields. I assisted Dr. Correa in surgery,” he said. “Monica’s left arm was badly broken. We had to put pins in to hold the bones in place, but with her young age, she will probably be healed up in about 8 weeks. 

“The bullet to the shoulder passed right through,” he continued. “We cleaned the wound and it’s been neatly stitched. It shouldn’t even leave much of a scar.

“She was pretty dehydrated, so we’ve got her on fluids and an I.V. antibiotic just as a precaution,” Dr. Fields concluded.

* * *

Mason Henson pulled to a stop in front of David Conley’s house. He had hardly put the car into ‘park’ when Conley yanked the front passenger door open.

“First, we hit Owen Hardy’s apartment. Then, get us to the private airfield near Perry Shore,” ordered Conley. “We’re taking a little trip to the good old U. S. of A.”

“Whatever you say Mr. Conley,” Henson responded and quickly pulled away, heading south toward Perry Shore.

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.