Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

Joe stared at the handsome police lieutenant, his blue eyes filled with shock and denial. “No way!” he declared. “They didn’t take Frank anywhere in a boat! He was taken to Kilauea! Why won’t you believe me? You’re just wasting time – if you don’t stop wasting time, they’re going to kill him! They want to kill him, don’t you GET IT? We have to stop them!”

“Joe...” Fenton put a hand on his son’s shoulder, trying to calm him down.

Surprisingly, Dylan didn’t appear to be angry with the Hardy boy. “I know that’s what you believe, Joe,” he said quietly, “but I’m trying to think of any possibilities. Any. Including ones we hate.”

“Does that include sacrifices to volcanoes?” Joe asked snidely, then subsided as Fenton squeezed his shoulder warningly.

“Touché,” Dylan murmured, and nodded.

“Fine, if we have to consider the possibility that Frank was taken away in a boat, then we also have to consider the possibility that he was taken to Kilauea to be sacrificed!” Joe insisted hotly.

“Okay, okay, both are possible,” McCullough sighed. He looked up as another car stopped nearby, and Chief Pauahi and Captain Masukoko emerged. Apparently Masukoko had finished with his phone calls. “No luck; place has been cleared out,” he informed the two as they approached.

“Well damn,” Pauahi muttered. “So now...?”

“I just had a thought – what about the chances of Frank being taken off in a boat?” Dylan advanced his theory. “I’m not meaning to abandon the Park search, but how about alerting the Coast Guard to check private craft?”

“Dylan, that could take forever,” Pauahi pointed out. “and it’s already been nearly a day since the kidnapping. A private boat could be anywhere by this time! I would say, though,” he conceded, “that an APB should be issued to all the islands – and to the mainland, for that matter. Just in case.”

“Okay, I’ll do that,” McCullough offered, and moved away from the group, pulling a cell phone from his jeans pocket.

“I’ll call Hilo and talk with my Inter-coastal Police Captain,” Pauahi said, “and have him start a search on that end. For now we’ll go with a voluntary search, but if anyone seems to be reluctant to allow it, we’ll call in for warrants as needed.”

“I’ll call over to Maui,” Ekela announced, and stepped away to do so.

“I’ll try Kona again,” Captain Masukoko said, in a long-suffering voice. “Maybe someone’s finally gotten to work!” They were all getting the impression that when Aaron Masukoko returned to Kona there were going to be some very hot departmental meetings taking place!

Joe and Fenton were momentarily left alone. Joe looked at his father forlornly – and saw that Fenton still looked very, very angry. “Dad?”

“It’s a waste of time, searching boats,” Fenton growled. “My gut instinct tells me that you’re right; that your informant was right. We should all be at the Park, looking, not wasting our time and resources here. I can feel time slipping away, Joe – and the more time we waste checking out alternate theories, the less time we have to actually rescue Frank! I trust what you found out!”

“Maybe you and I ought to head out for the Park and start searching on our own,” Joe suggested hopefully. “I don’t think we should just sit around here waiting for everyone else to do what they think they should do. And,” he added candidly, “I’m probably not the best person to be around all these cops right now! I’m tired and cranky and I want to hit something!”

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Fenton laughed. “Me too, son,” he agreed. “Me too!”

Kimo Pauahi approached them, evidently having overheard the exchange. “You won’t have to go alone,” he stated quietly. “I feel – very strongly – that in light of what you were told, Joe, it’s the most likely place to look.” He sighed deeply. “But I also have some bad – well, irritating – news: since it’s a kidnapping, I’ve had to notify the FBI – and my experience with the Feds is that they’ll run roughshod over everyone else in their fervor to take over the case!”

Fenton shrugged. “I’ve dealt with them before. And I’ve no problem with dealing with them again,” he said calmly.

Joe smirked. He knew his father’s opinion of federal agents. He was rather looking forward to the showdown.

Chief Pauahi pulled out his folded map of Volcanoes National Park once again, and spread it on the hood of the nearest car.

“Chief, where do you think – in your heart – that someone would take a potential sacrifice to Pelè?” Fenton asked softly.

“The caldera would be the likeliest place,” Pauahi replied promptly, and indicated it on the map with his forefinger. “But I’ll admit, it’s hard to get to, and brutally hot up there! There are flows that are easier to access, and would probably serve the purpose equally well. It really depends on what kind of statement the cult is trying to make. The gasses up there will kill anyone as effectively as the lava itself – lack of oxygen, and it’s surprisingly fast. So whoever takes Frank there would logically be wearing protective gear and have oxygen along. And there’s another problem: one can only go so far by vehicle, even an ATV. The rubber on the tires will melt – or the gasoline could combust!”

Joe shuddered. “I hope no one would be that stupid!”

“Depends on how savvy the cult leader is,” Pauahi replied.

“Would there be some sort of – ceremony?” Fenton ventured. “If there is, wouldn’t that almost have to mean that the cult leader would be there?”

“I don’t know,” the police chief sighed. “I really don’t know anything about such things, other than hearsay and legends.” He looked up sharply as another car pulled up nearby. “How the hell did they get here so fast?” he muttered, as two men in dark suits emerged from the vehicle. The two newcomers approached, looking out of place here on the docks in their pressed suits and ties.

“Chief Pauahi? I’m Agent Westman. This is Agent Totmyer,” the taller of the two men announced. Briefly, he snapped open a wallet to display a badge, but before he could put it away, Pauahi had held out his hand for it.

“I’d like to check yours, too,” he said to Totmyer, who grimaced but pulled out his own ID. Pauahi inspected the two badges very carefully, and then excused himself to make a phone call, quite evidently taking no chances with these two men not being who they were purported to be.

The two Hardys merely stood and waited, not attempting to engage the agents in conversation, as they hadn’t been introduced. Perforce, Agents Westman and Totmyer waited as well. When Pauahi returned a few minutes later, he returned the badges, apologizing for the necessity of double-checking. “How did you get here so quickly?” he asked, then.

“If you can believe it, we were both here on the Big Island on vacation,” Westman admitted. “When the emergency call from Honolulu came in, we were able to drop everything and come here right away.”

“If you’d like to sit down, I’ll fill you in on the case,” Pauahi invited politely, indicating his car, and the two FBI men followed him to the vehicle. Fenton and Joe continued to pore over the map.

“Dad,” Joe said, after a few moments, “would it be possible, you think, to get a helicopter or small plane to fly us over the volcano? We could take binoculars, and might spot people where they shouldn’t be...at the very least we’d get good visuals of the whole place in a hurry.”

“Joe, that’s a very good idea!” Fenton approved. He waved his hand, attracting Chief Pauahi’s attention; the big man got out of his car and came over to the Hardys. The two FBI agents wandered over to the warehouse and went inside, apparently to check the place over for themselves.

When Fenton mentioned Joe’s idea, Kimo Pauahi’s eyes lit up. “Joe, that’s brilliant! A helicopter can go low, and we can use powerful scopes as well. I’ll arrange for it right away. We may even be able to snag two, if we’re lucky!” He clapped Joe on the shoulder in pleased approval, and Joe smiled widely, delighted with the reception his notion was receiving.

Agent Westman exited the warehouse and came up to them just as Pauahi was about to leave to requisition the choppers. “Since we’re here now, we’ll handle the case from here on out,” Westman said brusquely. “We’d appreciate it if the rest of you backed off so we can do our jobs.”

The big Hawaiian police chief eyed him with contempt. “Every pair of eyes and hands is needed for something like this. I have absolutely no intention of pulling my men off this case. I’ve never abandoned a case before and I’m not starting now. Federal involvement or no federal involvement.”

Westman’s eyes narrowed unpleasantly. Joe privately thought the man looked uncannily like a ferret. He disliked ferrets. “I said, we’ll handle it now,” Westman repeated. “Back off, Pauahi!”

Fenton stepped forward, clearing his throat. “I’m Fenton Hardy,” he said. “That happens to be my son who has been kidnapped – and I’m not leaving his fate in the hands of anyone except myself, or someone I trust.” He tilted his head towards Chief Pauahi. “Like the Chief, I’m not in the habit of backing down, and I’m not making this an exception.”

“Hardy, I can charge you with obstructing justice—”

“Go ahead and try it,” Fenton snapped. “See how long it holds up. You’re not stopping me from looking for my son!” He glared at the federal agent, who took an involuntary step back from the enraged detective.

Joe watched the scene with awe, mouth open and eyes sparkling. He couldn’t remember ever seeing his father quite so forceful. Yeah, Dad! You tell him! Over Westman’s shoulder, he caught sight of Pauahi and Masukoko exchanging glances, and saw irascible Captain Masukoko actually grinning with delight over the FBI agent’s discomfiture.

Before tempers could escalate further, Lt. Dylan McCullough appeared, striding up to the tense little group with his easy air of authority intact. He raked Westman with a chilly stare, evidently taking in the situation at a glance. “Westman,” he said, calmly but firmly, “I just got off the telephone with Honolulu. I was assured by both my boss and your boss—” he paused for emphasis, “that we are all going to be working together on this case. Nobody knows this island like the local authorities – and that means Chief Pauahi, not the FBI.”

Westman glowered, but Dylan waited, and after a few seconds he uttered a grudging ‘Fine.”

Chief Pauahi snapped open his cell phone again, and started the process of requisitioning a helicopter. While waiting to talk to the appropriate people, he rapidly filled McCullough in on Joe’s plan.

“Sounds good,” Dylan approved, and tendered Joe a quick smile. “The Coast Guard’s on alert, and in on the hunt too.”

Watching the activity, Joe felt himself relax just a tiny bit. Maybe...just maybe...we’re a little closer to finding Frank!

*****

Every part of Frank’s body ached, when he woke up once more. He was lying spread-eagled again, and his ankles and wrists were in restraints. He wriggled just a bit, testing the bonds. Padded cuffs, from what he could tell. His back ached, his neck ached, his arms and legs hurt, and he could only move a few inches in any direction! And it was dark. Very, very dark, even though there was no longer anything covering his eyes.

Listening intently, he could hear no sounds around him. No signs of life at all, not even birds or insects. No traffic noises. No ocean sounds. Nothing to give him the slightest clue as to his location. Where the hell was he?

He patted the surface on which he lay, gingerly. It was hard, but with a textured, fibrous surface – metal covered by carpet, was Frank’s best guess. He tugged at the restraints again, to no avail. You couldn’t untie handcuffs, after all.

This sucks. Kidnapped while on vacation in Hawaii! How do I rate, anyway? He tried to remember what the strange woman had said to him, when he’d been awake before. She’d spoken English for the most part, but she’d talked of things that made no sense to him – and she’d used words he didn’t recognize. Hawaiian, he realized now. What was this, anyway? Am I going to be the kalua pig at a luau, or something? He shivered, not liking that notion in the least. What else am I missing, here?

He felt around with his feet as best he could, hoping to find something that might aid his escape efforts, although how he’d be able to USE anything defied imagination, restrained as he was. Even if he had the handcuff key it would do him no good; there was no way he could use it anyway!

The darkness abruptly lifted, as a door squeaked open. Light flooded the interior, and Frank realized his place of captivity was the back of a large van, with blacked-out windows. He squinted in the sudden brightness, and saw a girl’s form silhouetted against the light. As his eyes adjusted, he realized that she was holding a small basket.

“I have brought fruit,” she said in soft tones. “It is time for you to eat.” It wasn’t the same woman as before, but this girl had a similarly soft, soothing quality to her voice.

Frank shook his head. “Not hungry,” he lied. “What’s going on, anyway? Why are you holding me here? Who are you?”

“Shhh,” the girl said. She crawled into the van and sat down beside him, but with her back to the sunlight, so that he couldn’t quite make out her features clearly. “You are most honored, Po maika’I Mohai. You shall be lifted up.”

She held a bite of pineapple to Frank’s lips, and despite his declaration of not being hungry, he sucked it in avidly.

“Very soon, you will go through ho’oma’ema’ana,” she told him, popping more bites of fruit into his mouth, “and then tomorrow, you shall go through hi’uwai. And after that – then you shall meet with the Lady Pelè.”

Frank frowned at that, even as he ate the fruit. Meet Pelè? How...?

“How do I meet Pelè?” he asked. “She’s—”

“Shhh,” his captor said. “Our Lady Goddess Pelè awaits you with open arms, Po Maika’i. You will meet her soon.”

She said nothing more as she fed Frank the rest of the fruit in her basket. After allowing him some water from a bottle, she left, as quietly as she had come.

Meet Pelè. Frank thought hard. What did she mean? How could I...meet...Pelè?

Oh...God....

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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.