Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

“Thank you, Mr. Hardy,” Vanessa Bender spoke for them both. “I just hope it helps…” Her emotions suddenly got the best of her and Vanessa bit her lip to keep from crying. Callie Shaw quickly wrapped her arms around Vanessa.

Fenton sighed. He and Laura raised two strong boys; he really didn’t know how to deal with a weeping teenage girl.

“Vanessa,” Mr. Hardy spoke softly, “we’ll get Joe home. Every lead brings us closer to figuring out who took him and where he is.”

Vanessa wiped her eyes and tried to give her boyfriend’s father a smile. Fenton gave her a quick wink, “I’m taking this new information right to the police. I think they’ll be very interested in what you two have uncovered.”

* * *

“This is the address on Marvin Walker’s rap sheet,” Frank Hardy stated, pulling up in front of a run down, sleazy-looking pawn shop. “Dad got it from Sam Peterson, his old partner in the N.Y.P.D.”

“I thought we were looking for Grease. Who’s this Walker guy?” Chet Morton asked, joining Frank who had moved to the sidewalk.

“One and the same,” Frank replied.

“Looks like someone’s home,” Luke Martin said, joining the others on the sidewalk in front of the shop. Frank and Chet looked up to the second story of the pawn shop where a light had just come on.

“Let’s go,” Frank ordered and led the way. He quickly picked the lock, not wanting to give Grease or Jill a chance to escape before he could question them.

The trio moved silently up the grimy staircase to the second floor. When they reached the door, voices could be heard inside.

“That’s definitely Jill I hear,” Frank whispered. “The other voice must be Grease.” He wished he could make out what was being said, but realized they must be pretty far away from the door.

Stealthily, Frank tried the doorknob and raised his eyebrows in surprise when the knob turned easily. He slowly pushed the door open until he could peek inside.

The room had a battered sofa and a 19 inch television propped up on two empty, plastic milk crates. There were beer cans, pizza boxes and other pieces of garbage strewn about the room, but there was no sign of Jill Shaw or Marvin Walker.

“Come on,” Frank whispered and the three boys went inside. The voices could be heard coming from a dingy hall off the living room to the left.

“See any other way out besides the front door?” Frank quietly asked.

“There,” Luke pointed to a fire escape outside a filthy window. Frank nodded. To reach the door or the fire escape, they’d have to come to the living room.

“I’m going to confront them,” Frank said, looking at his friends. “You two stay here. If they make a run for it, tackle them and hold them.”

“Tackle a girl?” Chet made a face.

Luke rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry, Frank. We’ll do whatever we have to do.” Frank nodded and headed down the hall.

* * *

“Where’s Davis ?” Robert Daniels asked Saunders.

“I believe he’s in the basement, Sir,” replied the butler.

Robert headed for the secret staircase that led to the underground room they called the “basement”. He pulled the lever hidden behind a fake brick in the fireplace and watched the nearby bookcase swing open. He quickly pulled the door closed and went down the steps.

“Roger,” Robert addressed the man that had traveled with Joe from Bayport. The dark haired man, about 40 years old, turned to Mr. Daniels.

“What’s wrong, Bob?” Roger asked, seeing worry etched on his friend’s face.

“Joe left the house this morning and hasn’t returned,” Robert stated.

“He can’t go anywhere, Bob,” Roger assured him. “He’s probably off pouting somewhere. He’ll come back when he’s hungry.”

“He’s been gone all day! Something’s wrong,” Robert argued. “I want you to go look for him.”

Roger shook his head, “I’ll go, but I still think it’s a waste of time.”

* * *

Joe Hardy slowly opened his eyes. He was flat on his back in the sand looking up at the stars. He tried to move, but quickly realized he hurt all over. He looked around, but it was too dark and hard to see.

‘Where am I?’ he wondered, trying to remember. He saw a large rocky tower beside him. ‘Oh God. Uncle Robert.’ The memories came flooding back – the kidnapping, the coffin, the room in the big stucco house, climbing the rock to look around and falling.

Joe tried again to move. ‘This is not good,’ he moaned. He managed to roll on his side, but was immediately seized with pain. He shifted to his back again. ‘Great Hardy, what do I do now?’

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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.