Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

Scout ran just ahead of his boy, challenging the youth to chase him, but Jack Wayne wasn’t taking the bait. He stopped at a place called ‘Tucker’s Trail’ and leaned against the rock wall.

“Go on, you beast,” Jack called to his Husky. “Go terrorize some rabbits for a while.” He chuckled as he watched Scout take off into the wooded area that separated the grassy field from Route 19.

Jack walked along the granite wall, wondering again how it got there. Most people thought some early settlers built the wall to protect them from the strong winds that blew up the sides of the cliff from Barmet Bay.

His mother had told him that she believed God put them there, not man. Either by God’s hand or man’s labor, the stone wall rose eight feet high, tapering off to three feet tall on the far sides.

In the center was an opening between the two tallest boulders. Jack peered down what had once been ‘Tucker’s Trail’. The path was blocked by a police barricade and ‘No Trespassing’ signs because years of high winds and salt spray had eroded sections of the path away. Now, most of ‘Tucker’s Trail’ lay as rocky debris on what had once been a secluded, narrow beach.

Jack loved it here. It had been a favorite spot of his mother’s and sometimes, when he listened to the eerily beautiful sound of the sea crashing and the wind howling harmoniously together, he could almost hear his mother’s voice in the midst of it.

Jack was pulled back to the present by the insistent barking of his dog. He wandered into the woods to investigate. Jack found Scout barking and growling at a black bag on the mossy ground.

“What’cha find, boy?” Jack asked, scratching Scout’s neck as he picked up the bag. He nearly screamed when a gray ground squirrel jumped out of the bag’s draw-string opening.

Taking a deep breath and shaking his head, the teenager began examining the bag. It was black canvas with blue cord trimming all the edges. The outside flap bore a black and gold emblem that Jack recognized from the comic books scattered on his bedroom floor.

“Some little kid is sure missing a very cool ‘Batman’ backpack,” he said, checking the inside of the bag.

“Well, its empty, Scout,” Jack finally announced. “By the looks of it, some dog or maybe a ‘coon pulled it here from the road. Whatever was inside is long gone.

“Guess we’ll take it back to the house,” Jack added. “Better to throw it away there than litter here.”

* * *

Frank Hardy was supposed to be quietly playing in his room, but it bothered him knowing that Joe wasn’t next door in his own room. He sighed, wishing he could hear Joe’s infectious giggle coming through the adjoining bathroom.

He slipped silently down the back stairs and into the kitchen. The adults in the room were all talking in angry, worried tones. He looked around and recognized most of the people. Daddy, Pap Pap and Uncle Sam were talking with the police. He left the room as silently as he had entered it.

Stepping into the family room, Frank saw Mommy, Aunt Ethel and Nana sitting together on the sofa. Aunt Ethel was talking gently to Mommy. Mommy was crying.

He stood still, wondering what he should do when he felt someone kneel beside him. Frank looked into his Aunt Gertrude’s face, and then without a word, wrapped his small arms around her neck.

Gertrude lifted Frank into her arms and carried him to the living room in the front of the house. Her heart was heavy and so grieved; first to learn that her mother had cancer and now Joey was missing.

She knew without a doubt, that Frank had to be terribly upset. She held him close, feeling his hot tears on her shoulder. Gently rubbing his back, she said, “I’ll bet Joe misses you, too.”

Frank pulled back and looked into her eyes, the same brown color as his own. “Those bad people hurt Monica; Daddy said so,” his voice quivered. “What if they hurt Joe? He’s just little!”

Gertrude held back a smile, thinking that the boys were only a year apart in age, yet Frank always seemed so much older than Joe. “Would it help if we said a prayer for Joe?”

“Like in Sunday School?”

“Yes.”

Frank squeezed his eyes shut and clasped his hands tightly in front of him. “Dear God, please keep Joey safe. He’s just a kid and bad people shouldn’t hurt kids. Help Daddy find him soon.”

* * *

Joe Hardy’s small body trembled with each sob. His wrists and ankles were once again taped, and the foul tasting tape covered his mouth again, too.

He was back in the dark closet. He wanted sleep to come, but his shoulder ached too much. The pain hadn’t eased at all, since the bad man had yanked his arm backwards earlier.

Joe didn’t know what had happened, but his shoulder made a loud pop, then he couldn’t move his arm and it hurt really bad. ‘I know Daddy will find me,’ he tried to assure himself, ‘and when he does, those bad guys will be sorry!’

* * *

“Where have you two been?” George Wayne greeted his son as the boy entered the house.

“Out for a run by ‘Tucker’s Trail’,” Jack answered. “Look what Scout found.” He showed his father the black backpack.

“Probably left by someone’s kid while they were picnicking up there,” George responded.

“Looks too new to have made it through the winter,” Jack replied.

“What’s that on the inside of the flap there, Jackson?”

Jack flipped up the cover and looked. A name had been written in marker, but it was blurred from the moisture the pack had absorbed from the ground dew.

“The first letter looks like a ‘J’,” George offered. Jack didn’t respond. He was staring at the blurry letters. Maybe, just maybe, his friend Conner could figure out what the letters were.

“I’m going over to Conner’s for a while,” Jack announced, heading for the door. Scout was right on his heels.

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.