Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

Megan Wright tossed and turned. Although she and Vanessa had taken Chief Pauahi’s advice and gone back to bed after the early-morning meeting had ended, she had been unable to fall back to sleep. Vanessa had dropped off in short order, but Megan found it impossible to let go of the worry – impossible to relax enough to sleep at all. Despite willing herself to make her mind a blank, every time she closed her eyes the same scene superimposed itself on her eyelids: Rivulets of lava running down Kilauea’s slopes – and Frank Hardy lying bound and helpless in their path! The shock of it jerked her eyes wide open again, again and again. Even though she knew it was pure imagination – after all, she hadn’t been to Kilauea, and didn’t really know what it looked like, other than pictures and videos she’d looked up on the Internet – it still had the power to rob her of any relaxation or sleep.

After an hour and a half of lying there doing nothing but frightening herself, Megan quietly got out of bed and went into the bathroom, where she proceeded to take a long, hot shower. She blow-dried her red-gold hair, finger-combing the waves into some attempt at order as she worked the dryer over her hair. Once it was done to her satisfaction, she applied makeup – trying to conceal the worst of the fatigue-smudges beneath her eyes – and dressed once again in the clothes she’d had on earlier. She chose tennis shoes over sandals as footwear – they were going to be on the beach, and she recalled quite well how difficult it was walking on the rough surface. It had been worse at Lake Tahoe – pebbles, rather than coral – but either way, shoes were the better choice!

Returning to the bedroom, Megan noted that Vanessa was still fast asleep. She’d turned over on her other side, facing away from the windows. Megan envied her friend’s ability to sleep anywhere, anytime. But then, it wasn’t Vanessa’s boyfriend who was gone, after all...why shouldn’t she sleep? No, that’s not fair, Megan, don’t be like that. Van’s still getting over that nasty bug she picked up in Bayport, and she needs all the rest and sleep she can get – and that includes not stressing over Frank’s disappearance! With a soft little sigh, Megan picked up a book from the bedside table and sat down in a chair near the windows. She cautiously pulled back a corner of the drapes, to let in enough daylight to read by. She noted that it had clouded over and was raining. How dismally appropriate!

Nearly an hour later, Vanessa turned over again and opened her eyes. She focused on Megan, who had looked up and smiled a little as the blonde girl stirred. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself.” Megan replaced her bookmark and set the book on the table. She had thought the book riveting when she’d started reading it – on the plane – but it certainly hadn’t held her interest in the past hour. She’d found herself reading the same page over, time and time again, and still she couldn’t have said what was on that particular page. In fact, she had no idea what was in the whole book! What a waste of time!

“You okay?” Vanessa was surprisingly alert, for having just awakened. She sat up and stretched, eyeing Megan curiously. “Did you get a nap?”

“No,” Megan admitted, shaking her head. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Aw, honey....” Vanessa got out of bed and crossed the room to put her arms about the smaller girl. “Try not to worry, huh?”

Megan leaned against her for a few moments, appreciating the gesture. “Thanks, Van. I am trying – really, I am. But it’s hard. I can’t seem to let it go. I can see the volcano – I can see Frank, being engulfed by red-hot lava...” She shuddered in Vanessa’s embrace. “It makes me sick to my stomach.”

Vanessa sighed and sat down on the end of Megan’s bed. “I feel like I brought it on us, being so fascinated with the place—”

“NO! Don’t say that; we all wanted to see it!” Megan protested.

“It just seemed like something so interesting...something rich in Hawaii’s history. And we’re right here....” Vanessa trailed off disconsolately.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Megan murmured, and let the subject drop.

Yawning, Vanessa checked her watch. “Wow, it’s almost noon. Guess I’d better take a shower.” She gathered up some clothing and disappeared into the bathroom; a few moments later Megan heard the water running. In a surprisingly short time, Vanessa reappeared, hair pulled back into its ponytail again, clad in shorts and the tee-shirt she’d had on earlier.

“We should go get some lunch, and then head out – see if we can find that beach that Quint took us to the other night,” she suggested.

Megan nodded and stood up. “Do you think you can find it?

“Well, we might be able to find it on our own, but if we can’t, we’ll come back to the beach here and see if we see any of the kids. It’s too bad Quint’s taken off; he’d probably take us there. Maybe.”

“If Quint hadn’t taken off,” Megan pointed out bitterly, “he could probably take us directly to Frank!”

They took the elevator down to the lobby, and went to the hotel’s coffee shop for lunch. Megan ordered a sandwich and a green salad, and a small fruit plate – which she merely picked at, once it arrived.

“Hey, girlfriend—” Vanessa tapped the table imperiously to get her attention. “You have got to eat. You didn’t sleep, and now you aren’t eating. Just where did you think you were going to get the energy to look for Frank, hmmm?”

Megan raised guilty blue-green eyes. “I know, I know...I’m sorry,” she sighed. Resolutely, she took a bite of her sandwich, and chewed. “See?” she said, with her mouth full, “I’m eating, I’m eating. See?”

“That’s better.” Vanessa returned her attention to her own large fruit tray and her fish sandwich. “I love this,” she mumbled, indicating the fruit plate. “Nothing beats fresh fruit from Hawaii...nothing at all!”

Megan managed a half smile as she leaned back and kept nibbling at her own lunch. She knew Vanessa was right; she couldn’t just stop eating and sleeping. It certainly wouldn’t do Frank any good – he’d be mad as all get-out if he knew.

At last they both finished, and asked the desk clerk to call a taxi for them. Remembering Chief Pauahi’s orders, Vanessa called Officer Tambo and reported that they were heading out to do their ‘interviewing,’ but, she emphasized, they didn’t have a cell phone, so they weren’t going to be able to call him every thirty minutes. Tambo wasn’t happy about it, but there wasn’t much he could do. Vanessa did promise that they’d check in at the first opportunity – she knew there were pay phones near a lot of the beaches; she’d seen them.

When the driver picked them up, Megan described the place they were looking for, as best she could. She hadn’t been watching closely on their wild journey in the old Hummer, but she remembered fairly well.

The driver, after thinking a few moments, nodded. “I think I know where you mean. It’s early in the day for anyone to be there – but this is winter break, after all – so the local kids might have showed up by now. Sure,” he finished with a wide smile, “I’ll take you there!”

It didn’t take long; soon they saw the almost-hidden lane, and Megan leaned to tap the driver’s shoulder. “You can let us out here,” she told him. “We can walk it from here.”

“Okay,” he agreed, pulling to the side of the road. “I’d rather not risk scratching my paint job anyway! Good luck finding your friends!” he added, as they paid him. “Oh – how you gettin’ back? You call me for a ride?”

“We don’t have a cell phone,” Vanessa confessed. “We’re hoping that we can hitch a ride back with someone.”

“Well, good luck, then!” Without further conversation, he pulled away, leaving the two Bayport girls staring rather blankly after him.

“Well!” Megan said, “Maybe it would have been smarter to rent a car or something!”

“Can’t,” Vanessa said glumly. “We’re too young; they wouldn’t rent to us. You know that.”

“Oh...right.”

They set out down the lane toward the beach, hoping against hope that their journey hadn’t been wasted.

“It’s so pretty,” Megan noted, smiling a little as they came in view of the smoothly rolling waves. “It was pretty at night; it’s even lovelier now!”

“Hey, it’s the malihinis that came with Quint!” a voice called. “Aloha, wahines!”

To their relief, it was one of the boys from the other night, and he was quickly joined by a long-haired Hawaiian girl they recognized as well.

“Where your guys at?” she teased. “Looking around for better pursuits?” She stepped a little closer to the boy, and took his arm in a possessive grip.

“No, no – not at all,” Vanessa said hastily. “We came out here because we need to talk to you....there’s been some trouble....”

Both the Hawaiians sobered. “Trouble?” the boy repeated warily.

“Frank – Megan’s boyfriend, the dark-haired guy – has been kidnapped,” Vanessa blurted, without preamble. “No one’s been able to find him. We have reason to believe – we were told by someone – that he’s been taken by a cult.... Do you know anything about cults...?”

The Hawaiian teens exchanged looks and both began to laugh.

“Good joke, nani wahine,” the boy chuckled. “You two haole come to our beach and try to pull a fast one on us islanders, heh?”

“NO!” Megan was nearly stamping with fury. She glared at the amused teen. “It’s not a joke – and I didn’t come here to get laughed at! I mean business! And I mean to find Frank – one way or another – alive!”

“Okay, okay...simmer down.” The boy eyed her consideringly. “Let’s sit down and talk this over, heh?”

They did so, dropping to seats on the soft sand.

“Okay, I’m Komaka. This is Melanie. You’re...?”

“Vanessa.”

“Megan.”

Komaka exchanged somber glances with Melanie. “I don’t know about any cult stuff, no BS,” he said. “I follow the old ways some – most of us do, in this group – but we’re not a cult. I don’t get down on bended knee to worship Pelè, or anything, if that’s what you’re thinkin’!”

“No, not exactly.” Megan shook her head and tried to explain. “Someone has threatened – to...to – oh, I realize this sounds stupid, but...to throw him into Kilauea, to sacrifice him to Pelè! It’s the fulfillment of some prophecy or other – he fits all the qualifications, so....”

Komaka looked frowningly at Melanie. “Doesn’t jangle my chimes, how ‘bout you?”

She shook her head and shrugged. “No – but I don’t hang out with the wacko crowd at school, you know that. You—” she was addressing Vanessa and Megan now— “would be better off talking to Quint or Eli than anyone else. Eli always has weird things going on, spouting off the least little Pelè-related factoid...whether you asked for it, or not!”

“Where could we find Eli?” Vanessa asked. “We...um....don’t know where Quint is, right now.” She had a feeling that mentioning that Quint was currently fleeing for his life might not go down too well with their acquaintances.

“There.” Melanie pointed down the beach. They saw another young man seated on the sand, a sketchpad in his lap. He was alternately gazing out over the water and down at the drawing he was making. “But look out – Eli’s weird, ya know?”

“Thank you – thank you very, very much. Mahalo.” Megan got to her feet, as did Vanessa, and they walked towards Eli. They stopped a short distance away and watched him draw for a little while. Vanessa, who had a definite artistic streak, noted that he had a deft, sure hand with his pencil. You could see the waves in his picture coming to life – you could almost see them placidly rolling in.

Megan cleared her throat gently and moved a few steps closer. “Eli – could we interrupt you a minute? We’d like to talk to you.”

Eli didn’t bother looking at them, just kept sketching, but he nodded. “Sure. Pull up a section of the beach,” he invited with a smile. He spoke with the soft accent that many of the Islanders did, but his words were perfectly clear and understandable.

Vanessa laughed and sank down cross-legged; Megan knelt and then curled her legs under her. “That’s Vanessa,” she introduced herself, “and I’m Megan. In case you don’t remember us from the other night.”

“Waneka and Mekhana,” he translated, with another smile. “I remember you. What can I do for you, nani wahines?”

Megan again explained what had happened – Frank’s disappearance, their belief that he had been taken by some sort of native cult to serve as a sacrifice to the volcano. Even as she repeated the words, she knew how crazy they must seem, and her heart sank. She saw Vanessa was watching Eli closely, and knew her friend was on the lookout for any reaction that might indicate he knew something of the plot.

“He was taken from the hotel – and we have good reason to believe it was by a cult which wants to bring back the old ways to the Islands.” She paused, suddenly thinking of something which they had almost forgotten. “Right after he was taken, a young woman was killed at the hotel – a maid, who was the only one to see him being kidnapped,” she said. “We know these people mean business, if they would kill an eyewitness!”

Eli shrugged, still gazing out over the ocean. “I’ve heard of groups like that,” he admitted, “but I’m not associated with them.”

Of course you aren’t! Vanessa thought with impotent fury. Everyone’s heard of them, but no one admits to having anything to DO with them! She wanted to scream in frustration.

“I love and revere Pelè,” Eli was continuing, “and I love Kilauea, but I don’t get all fanatical about it! I know what Melanie told you,” he added, with a sideways grin. “And I’m not nuts. Anyway, yes, I’ve heard about cults like that – and I was approached once, recruited. I decided I didn’t want to join them. For one thing, that prophecy they spouted; that’s not accurate. It’s not authentic. The wording’s too modern, even in Hawaiian, let alone the translation. I’m not interested in belonging to a cult that uses fiction to found its beliefs!”

“Do you have any idea where we might find these people?” Megan asked, very carefully. “We really don’t have much time, and it’s important to find Frank before something...happens.”

“Not really,” Eli admitted. He set down his pencil and turned to look at them at last. “Like I said, I went to one gathering. It was in Volcanoes National Park, that much I know. But I was taken there blindfolded, so I couldn’t ever reveal their meeting place.”

“Do you remember how long you drove?” Vanessa demanded. “Where did you start? Were you near anything you recognized, when you were at the meeting place?”

“No, not really. It was dark, very late at night, and there were clouds obscuring the moon and stars. And everyone there was hooded, so I couldn’t recognize anyone anyway. Even the ceremonies were very...secretive. That surprised me. It seemed like they had something to hide. That made me wonder – why were they recruiting me, if they didn’t want to tell me what was going on? It was just too freaky to deal with, ya know? Anyway, I just knew it was in the Park...but not where in the park. It’s a big place!”

“Thank you, Eli. Mahalo.” Megan managed a smile as she got to her feet. It was a pale version of her usual dimpled sunburst smile, but Eli had no way of knowing that. “Your drawing is beautiful,” she added, and he grinned in appreciation.

The two girls wandered about on the beach, chatting to a few of the other kids they recognized from their previous visit, but no one seemed to have any further information which might help in finding Frank.

As Megan walked, she kept running over the words of the prophecy in her mind. Joe hadn’t been able to quote it exactly, but he’d had a pretty good idea of it, and had written it down for them. Dark hair...dark eyes...an outlander. Okay, all that fit, all too well. He shall know no woman’s touch.... Oh, NO! A horrid realization swept over her. She stared up at Vanessa, tears filling her eyes. “Vanessa...it’s my fault! Frank was taken because...it’s because...”

“What? How could it be your fault?” the blonde girl demanded, staring at Megan as if she’d suddenly sprouted horns.

“The prophecy – the part that says ‘he shall know no woman’s touch.’ I – I stopped him, Van!” Tears were choking her now; she could barely force the words out. “On my birthday – he wanted...I stopped him! He’s going to die...he’s going to die because...because we didn’t...because of me. Vanessa, it’s MY FAULT!”

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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.