Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

Although Chief Pauahi had called for paramedics to come to the lava lake site, he also radioed to the police chopper pilot to bring his helicopter in close. There was no reason for them to walk back all that way, after all, he commented to Masukoko, who agreed wholeheartedly. Shortly thereafter, the aircraft settled gently down on the plateau. Alerted to the situation, the teams of police officers who had been searching the park were now converging as well.

Pauahi and McCullough scrambled down the steep, rocky path to the edge of the lava lake, carefully avoiding the streams of molten lava running into it, to see about recovering Meka Ekela’s body, but returned shortly, shaking their heads and looking grim.

“It’ll take equipment,” McCullough sighed. “It’s not possible to just reach in and drag him out, after all.” He looked a little green; apparently the noxious fumes – as well as the gruesome situation – had gotten to him.

“Dylan, I think you’d better sit down for a little while.” Captain Masukoko took the lieutenant’s arm in a firm grip and escorted him to a convenient rock. McCullough opened his mouth to argue, then took another look at the smaller man’s expression and decided against it. He sat.

Many of the acolytes and cult members who had been attending the sacrificial ceremony had scattered, running like rabbits, but some had been caught, like the one who had attacked Fenton. They were herded into a group and set under police guard; more were added as the officers coming from various parts of the park rounded them up. It was going to take awhile to get things straightened out, that was certain!

Fenton and Joe, meanwhile, had taken up positions on either side of Frank. Right now, neither of them wished to be too far away from him. They were content to just sit, and let all the police activity swirl around them without interference. Frank leaned wearily against his father’s shoulder, half-asleep. He was still dazed from the effects of whatever drugging agents had been used on him in the last 48 hours, as well as queasy from the fumes, but he was happy. Against all the terrible odds, he had been rescued. Now all he wanted to do was get back to the hotel, give Megan a heartfelt kiss, and then crash for about ten hours – in a bed, not on mat-covered rock!

The whirring noise of chopper blades signaled the arrival of another helicopter, this one bringing the paramedics. In a few minutes Frank had been wrapped in blankets and was being given supplemental oxygen, while the EMTs did checks and assessments of his condition. A protesting Dylan McCullough was also briefly put on oxygen, but pronounced unhurt.

“Well, aside from some scrapes from that lava, you don’t look to be hurt,” Frank was told. “It would be a good idea if we took you back to the hospital and let them check you out, though. Not sure just what you were drugged with, and that plus the volcanic vapors...”

“No,” Frank rasped, shaking his head. He cleared his throat and tried again, a little more assertively. “I don’t want to go to the hospital. I just want to go back to the hotel and fall into bed.”

“Frank,” his father began, “it really would be best if you went to the hos—”

“No,” Frank repeated. “I’m fine, I don’t need to be checked out any more, and I want to go back to the hotel.” He gave Fenton a pleading look. “Please, Dad, if I thought it was necessary I would, but I really don’t. I spent most of my last vacation in the hospital; I’m not going to spend this one there too!”

Mr. Hardy sighed, but his dark eyes twinkled. “All right, all right. But you know the drill...if you—”

“If I start feeling bad, I’ll tell you,” Frank filled in. “I know. I know.”

The medics grinned at the exchange, and bandaged the worst of the lava-scrapes before they packed up their gear and departed.

When they were gone, Joe looked in some confusion at the controlled chaos going on around them. “How do we get home?” he asked. “We got here in a helicopter, but...can we go back in it? Do they need it to transport other people, or something?”

“You can ride back in it right now,” a voice rumbled behind him, and the three Hardys turned to see Kimo Pauahi standing there. “Dylan and I are going to stay here and keep tabs on everything, so that leaves two seats in the chopper. No reason Frank can’t sit in one. Captain Masukoko is going back too, since this really isn’t his jurisdiction, and will make sure you get to your hotel. We’ll need a statement from Frank, of course, but that can wait until later.”

Joe sighed with tired relief. It seemed like it had been a very long day. He and Fenton each took one of Frank’s arms and led him towards the big police helicopter, where the pilot and Captain Masukoko waited.

“Hey—”

It was Lt. McCullough. He no longer looked so pale, but he did look sheepish. “Um...I just wanted to say again how sorry I am,” he apologized to them “Sorry that I didn’t want to believe that Frank could be here, I mean. If I’d listened to you – not argued about it – maybe things wouldn’t have cut quite so close, you know?” He sighed. “I was so sure that Frank had been taken off-island in some boat or other....”

Joe felt a mean little thrill of satisfaction. He’d been right and McCullough had been wrong! He would have liked to say something to that effect, but his father was already speaking.

“Dylan, you had reasons for believing what you did, and you thought you were right. It’s just a quirk of fate that this time you weren’t.” Fenton smiled. “And you saved Frank’s life when you pulled him back from the edge,” he added, tilting his head in the direction of the lava lake. “In my book that pretty well squares things.”

“Yeah, well...I was glad to do it.” McCullough smiled then, and tossed them one of his small salutes. “I’ll see you later, at the hotel. Probably tomorrow. Night!” And he was gone, loping over the hardened lava towards the huddled group of cult members.

*****

Thirty minutes later Joe, Frank and Fenton climbed out of the helicopter onto the sand of their hotel’s private beach, ducking under the lazily spinning rotors. It might have not been strictly procedure, but the friendly pilot had grinned and nodded when Aaron Masukoko suggested he take the Hardys directly to the Island Resort Spa, and he waved cheerfully at them now.

“Goodnight, Captain! Thank you again!”

Masukoko gave them a very credible version of Dylan McCullough’s salute, and a rare smile, as the chopper lifted back into the air.

“Frank!”

They turned at the call, and saw Laura Hardy speeding down the pathway to the beach; close behind her were Vanessa and Megan. During the ride back, Fenton had called his wife on his cell phone to deliver the joyous news of Frank’s rescue.

“Mom!” Frank let himself be caught into his mother’s arms, and wrapped his own about her, hugging hard. Megan and Vanessa hovered nearby, until Joe reached out and tugged Vanessa against his side. She came willingly and locked her hands about his neck, leaning in to kiss him fervently.

Laura was laughing and crying at the same time, holding Frank as if she never wanted to let go. “WHAT are you wearing?” she demanded at last, pulling back enough to look at her elder son. Frank grimaced in embarrassment; he’d ditched the lei and the headdress, but perforce was still clad in the ti-leaf native skirt.

“Um...a lot of leaves,” he mumbled, and hugged her again, then released her into Fenton’s arms and turned to Megan. “Baby...” he breathed, and held out his hands.

She didn’t disappoint; Megan ran forward and flung herself into his arms, clinging desperately to him and burying her face in his shoulder. Frank felt tears seeping through the fabric of Lt. McCullough’s jacket and tightened his embrace. “Megan...baby...it’s all right. It’s all right....”

“Thought I’d never...see you again,” she whispered against his chest.

“Yeah, well...” Frank nodded, rubbing his cheek against the top of her head. “You aren’t the only one who thought that, Baby.” He squeezed her again. “But I’m here. Megan, I’m here! And I’m fine.” He started to say something else, and was abruptly caught in an enormous yawn.

Megan pulled back to look up at him, and giggled a little. “It sounds like you’d better get upstairs and go to bed,” she advised, and her dimple flashed briefly.

Frank was too relieved to see her smile to be chagrined about his faux pas. “I guess so,” he agreed. Suddenly he felt so tired he could scarcely stay on his feet, and he staggered slightly.

Megan propped him up, keeping him from going flat on his face and immediately Fenton and Joe were there on either side.

“C’mon, Kamehameha, let’s get you upstairs,” Joe prodded, and the whole group moved towards the hotel.

Frank yawned again and again.. “Keep me awake until I can take a shower,” he requested as he was steered out of the elevator on their floor. “I want to get all this chalk and the other gunk off!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Joe fumbled for his key-card and opened the door to their room. “Welcome back,” he announced with a sweeping gesture. “Home sweet home!”

Twenty minutes later Frank was sound asleep. Joe sat on his own bed and watched for a little while, just feeling thankful, but the rumbling of his stomach reminded him that it was past dinner time and he couldn’t remember eating anything since a very early breakfast! He got up and wandered across the hall to tap on Vanessa’s door. She answered it and he gave her a winning smile.

“Food?” he said hopefully.

She chuckled and drew him in. “Room service,” she decided, and handed him the hotel services booklet.

When Joe and the girls finished eating, Vanessa and Megan demanded that they be told all the details of what had happened at Kilauea. Joe, however, was hesitant to try and tell them just yet. It was still too close, still too raw.

“I think I need to wait for a little while,” he half-apologized. “But I promise, you’ll hear all about it eventually. Just...not quite yet.” An idea occurred to him. “What did you two do this afternoon, anyway?”

They told him of their trip to the secluded beach and the interviews with Eli and the others. “None of which told us anything we didn’t really already know,” Vanessa sighed.

“Well, now that it’s over maybe some of them will come forward and give us some more details,” Joe said.

“We thought we were going to get to talk to Quint,” Megan put in, “because we saw his Hummer go by, and we followed it in the taxi—”

“HUH? You saw Quint? Where? When was this?” Joe was shocked; he had been sure Quint was leaving the island as soon as they’d talked.

“This afternoon, right when we were leaving the beach,” Megan replied. “It went right past us, going pretty fast. The taxi driver tried to keep up with it, but it turned off on a dirt road and he said his car couldn’t follow fast enough...” She sighed. “We really wanted to catch him, too!”

Joe frowned, disturbed by this news. Quint had been pretty clear about his intentions, and they hadn’t included tooling around the island in his Hummer a day later! He felt a niggling sense of worry. Something didn’t seem quite right about this.

“Joe, what’s wrong?” Vanessa was watching him closely.

“Do you think you could find that road?” he asked in turn, without answering her question.

“Well...maybe. But it’s getting dark—” She looked at the windows, at the rapidly-dimming twilight.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” Joe stood up, still frowning. “I don’t know why, but I think I’d like to check it out.” He moved to the door, and went down the hallway to his parents’ suite, closely followed by the mystified girls.

After a moment Laura answered the knock. “Joe?” she said in surprise. “Is something wrong with Frank?”

“No, he’s fine; he’s asleep,” Joe replied. “But I need to talk to Dad for a minute.” Spotting his father approaching the door, he went on hastily. “Dad, you rented a car, didn’t you?”

“Yes...” Fenton said slowly. “We haven’t used it yet, but yes, I rented one.”

“Can I borrow it?”

“Joe, you know the rental-agency rules – I can’t let you take the car—”

“I know, but I think this is important.” Quickly, Joe explained about Quint, and what the girls had seen. “I don’t know why, Dad, but I really feel like I need to check it out.”

His father sighed wearily and shoved his fingers through his hair in a gesture eerily like Frank’s. He glanced over his shoulder into his peaceful hotel suite with regret, and then turned back to Joe. “Give me a couple minutes, and we’ll go,” he said.

“Huh?” Joe was caught off-balance; he blinked at Fenton in bewilderment.

“You and the girls grab whatever you need and we’ll go look; I know you won’t give me any peace otherwise,” Fenton said with a wry smile.

*****

“It was there,” Megan said decisively, pointing to the dirt turnoff. “I’m sure that’s the one.”

“You agree, Van?” Joe asked.

“I think so, yeah,” she nodded. “It looks right.”

Fenton eased the rental car onto the narrow, two-lane rutted road. “It doesn’t look like it’s used much,” he commented, “and there are some fairly new tire tracks; I think you nailed it, girls. But it looks like they go both ways,” he added. ”There are tracks in both lanes; whoever went in, came back out. So we may not find anything; keep that in mind.”

They drove for some time, following the tire tracks and, as Fenton pointed out occasionally, the indications of a recent vehicle passage: crushed undergrowth along both sides of the road, an occasional low-hung tree limb broken off and lying on the ground. Despite Joe’s apprehensions, he was starting to feel discouraged – that this was just another of the many wild-goose chases they’d been involved with – when Fenton slowed the car down and then pulled to a stop.

“Looks like the tracks stop here,” Mr. Hardy said. “Whoever it was, turned around and went back the way they came.”

“That’s crazy!” Joe expostulated, looking around. “There’s nothing here! It’s just...trees and bushes and stuff!”

“Well, let’s take a look.” Fenton turned off the engine, but left the headlights on, giving them illumination in the darkness. He got out, reaching back in for a flashlight; they’d made a hasty stop at one of the little ABC stores and purchased several before starting out. Joe, Megan and Vanessa got out as well.

It took only a few moments’ examination for the detective to find what he sought. “Look here – someone went through the brush here,” Fenton called. “The grass is trampled down...” He bent over and studied the ground closely. Joe and the girls huddled around him closely, adding their flashlights’ beams. “It looks to me like something – or someone – was dragged through here. See the marks in the dirt?”

The four moved through the undergrowth slowly, following the faint trail of crushed grass and broken brush, Joe close on his father’s heels. The bad feeling he’d had was intensifying.

Fenton stopped abruptly and Joe thudded into his back. “Wha—”

“Oh my God.” The elder Hardy bolted forward.

“Dad? What—” Joe peered through the bushes, the wavering beams from the moving flashlights making it difficult to see. And then he glimpsed what his father had seen, and was running as well, stumbling through the tangled grasses. He crouched beside Fenton, who was down on one knee beside a crumpled, blood-spattered figure. Gingerly, Fenton turned the body enough so that they could see the face, and Joe gasped in horrified shock.

“Quint!”

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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.