Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

Joe beat a rapid tat-a-tat on the hotel room door. After a moment, it opened, and Vanessa peeked out. “Vanessa, do you have ANY idea how so much of your stuff ended up in MY suitcase?” Joe’s tone was a mixture of exasperation and amusement – and adoration. Even as he gently chided his girlfriend, he was scooping her up in a one-armed embrace, pulling her into the hall and planting a kiss on the corner of her mouth. “I swear, you brought enough stuff to move here! And I’ve been having to lug it around!”

She squealed at the semi-attack, and giggled, but pulled back slightly. “Careful, or you’ll get my cold.” She sniffed, demonstrating, and stifled a cough. “And if you’ll remember, those things got in your suitcase because I ASKED! And you said I could!”

Joe coughed delicately in imitation, and intoned in a light falsetto: “ ’Joe, could I put a couple of things in your suitcase? I’m almost done packing and I have one or two – maybe three – things I really want to bring and no room in my suitcases. Could I? Please?’ ” He cleared his throat and regarded Vanessa with a calm blue gaze. “We may have to send you back to kindergarten for some remedial math, babe. At last count, I found twelve – yes, I said TWELVE – ‘things’ in there that aren’t mine – and three of ‘em, I don’t want anyone seeing coming out of my suitcase! I have a reputation to maintain, you know!”

Vanessa grinned, and winked at Frank, who was openly watching from their door across the hall. Megan, giggling, appeared behind her. “Oh, you poor baby,” Vanessa crooned to Joe, through her laughter, “I’ll rescue your big, bad, ol’ macho suitcase from my stuff, and save your big, bad ol’ macho reputation from being besmirched.” She shoved him across the hall, toward the room he was sharing with Frank. “Come on, I want a witness here…I don’t want you coming back later and saying I forgot something!”

Frank, laughing, moved out of their way, shaking his head. “Those two….”

Megan’s infectious giggles rippled out as she stepped into the hallway. “I saw what she put in there, and I know for a fact that she did it on purpose, just to see what Joe would do!”

“Wish I had my camera,” Frank muttered. “Some moments are just meant to be captured on film, you know? Both to share with others, and also to use as appropriate blackmail material.”

“So why don’t you have it?” his girlfriend inquired.

“Charging,” Frank admitted.

Megan sniffed. “If you’d charged it before we left, you’d be able to use it now,” she reminded him smartly – and then gasped as he swept her into his arms and bent his head to kiss her.

“I had other things on my mind,” he growled, low, and tightened his clasp.

The moment was interrupted by the opening of yet another hotel room door, and the emergence of Fenton. He took in the situation at a glance, and his dark eyes twinkled knowingly, but all he said was: “Frank, could you and Megan come down to our suite – and Joe and Vanessa, too? My liaison with the Hawaiian police is supposed to be coming by to fill us in on the specifics of the seminar, and I’d like you four to meet him.”

“Sure, Dad.” Releasing Megan, but still holding her hand, Frank moved to poke his head into his room. “Joe – Dad wants to see us!” A moment later, Vanessa dashed out, scurried across the hallway and into the girls’ room, her arms full of various items, some of which looked decidedly pastel and silky…not Joe’s sorts of things at all! Frank’s eyes sparkled with good-natured humor as he caught her eye, and Vanessa winked saucily at him as she darted past. A few moments later, she returned to the hallway, and annexed the crimson-cheeked Joe as he emerged from his room. They followed Frank and Megan down the soft-carpeted hall to the elder Hardys’ suite.

“Hey, Mom and Dad,” Joe said, settling himself comfortably onto the loveseat beside Vanessa. “Whaddya think? Is this swell, or what?” He waved his hand widely, the gesture encompassing the spacious elegance of the two-room suite.

“It’s beautiful,” Laura replied, smiling. “They’ve gone out of their way to spoil us!”

“That’s because we wanted you to feel wanted and welcomed,” a voice spoke from the open doorway. “Aloha!”

As one, the Hardys and the two girls turned to face the newcomer. They were somewhat surprised to see a tall, tanned blonde-haired man wearing Bermuda shorts, sandals and a tank top standing there. He had a badge attached to his shorts, but aside from that, he looked like a tourist – relaxed, rested, and very much off-duty. A friendly smile lighted up his undeniably attractive features.

“Come in,” Fenton invited cordially. “You are…?”

“Lieutenant Dylan McCullough,” the man said, extending his hand and advancing into the room. “I’m with Hawaii 5-0, and I’m your liaison to the security measures seminar, Mr. Hardy.”

“Pleased to meet you, Lieutenant.” Fenton shook hands, mentally sizing up the other man. Dylan McCullough was tall, taller than either Fenton or his sons, with a lean build. He’s definitely not a native Hawaiian Islander, Fenton thought with an inward chuckle, taking in the blue eyes and shock of sun-bleached hair.

Lieutenant McCullough seemed to know what he was thinking. “Before you ask,” he grinned, “I’m originally from California, and I trained at the San Diego Police Academy. I came here on a case – oh, about ten years ago – and fell in love with the place. I decided to stay on. Normally, I work out of Honolulu, but I came over to the Big Island for the seminar, and I wanted to serve as your liaison.”

“This is my wife, Laura, my sons, Frank and Joe, and my other two assistants, Megan Wright and Vanessa Bender,” Fenton indicated each person as he said their names.

“E komo mai,” McCullough inclined his head to Laura in a semi-bow, and took her offered hand in his. Instead of shaking it, he brought it to his lips and kissed the back, blue eyes twinkling mischievously at her evident surprise. Releasing her hand, he turned to Megan and Vanessa, who exchanged nervous smiles as the handsome lieutenant greeted them in a similar fashion. “E komo mai is another way to say ‘welcome’ in Hawaiian,” he explained. “I’ve picked up some of the language over the years, although I doubt I’ll ever be truly fluent in it! But it’s a very good language for talking to beautiful women – don’t you agree?”

Intrigued – and oblivious of the slightly hostile gazes Frank and Joe were bestowing on Lt. McCullough – the girls blushed, smiled, and fingered their flower leis self-consciously. They were used to receiving compliments from guys in their age bracket, but Lt. McCullough had to be in his mid-thirties, at the very least!

Laura eyed this audacious man speculatively. Her first reaction had been Oh no, not another Cameron Jacobs! But the whole ‘feel’ was different, she realized. Whereas Cameron Jacobs had made her skin crawl, Dylan McCullough merely made her want to laugh – and flirt back! In fact, she could easily see Joe, fifteen years down the road, being the same sort…flirt with anyone and everyone, merely for the fun of it. And then go home at night to his wife, completely and totally faithful, she added, smiling to herself at the thought.

Finally, they all seated themselves on the various couches and chairs in the room, and got down to business.

“The seminar will start in the morning,” Dylan began by way of explanation. “There’s a sort of ‘meet and greet’ at eight. Most of that will just be everyone getting to know each other, or seeing people we haven’t seen for awhile, and getting reacquainted. The first session is scheduled for 9:30, and lasts for three hours – with a short break in the middle, of course. Do you have that much material ready, Mr. Hardy?”

“Call me Fenton, please,” the detective requested. “Yes, I think I’m prepared for that. Do you have a set schedule already planned? Specific things you want me to talk about? Since I’m filling in at the last minute….”

McCullough shifted on his seat, and pulled a folded piece of paper from the back pocket of his shorts. “Here.” He passed it over to Fenton, who unfolded it and scanned through the list, nodding approval as he flipped to a second sheet.

“How many people are you expecting?” he asked, then.

“About 200, give or take a few,” the lieutenant replied. “There will be representatives from all the precincts on all the islands, hopefully. We’ve had to request a little help from the Mainland to make sure the streets are policed while the conference is going on, but we plan on everyone being back at work on New Year’s Eve, since that’s when the seminar is over – and ready to take on the strange behavior of our Islanders on that night,” he finished with a laugh.

Fenton chuckled. “I think a lot of people do strange things on New Years, not just Hawaiian Islanders.”

“True. Well, I’ll be happy to introduce you to everyone tomorrow morning,” McCullough offered. “That is, at least, everyone I know. You’ll get to meet Chief Pauahi, who’s heading the whole thing up. He’s out of the Hilo PD, and as native an Islander as you can get.”

“I’ve spoken with him on the phone,” Fenton nodded, recognizing the name. “What’s he like?”

Dylan grinned. “Big. Braw. Loud. Forceful. And a damn good cop. You’ll figure that out as soon as you meet him.” He got to his feet. “In the meantime, enjoy your evening. I highly recommend the restaurant in the hotel. I’ll see you all tomorrow morning. Aloha.” And with that, he was gone as abruptly as he had appeared, closing the door behind him and leaving his guests slightly bemused.

“Wow.” Frank blinked. “Interesting guy!”

“Sort of abrupt, but very intriguing,” Megan smiled, and reached for the schedule McCullough had left. She and Frank snuggled into the sofa, reading through it.

“It looks like your standard seminar,” Fenton commented, leaning over the back of the couch to read over his son’s shoulder. “Session from 9 to 12 – well, 9:30, but close enough – then another one, 1:30 to 4:30.”

“Evening sessions, too—” Frank pointed them out, frowning slightly. This thing looked pretty intensive.

“But I don’t have to do anything at those,” his father said. “Apparently one is a statistical report from the various Hawaiian police departments, and the other is an awards ceremony. You kids don’t have to plan on attending either of those, although I suspect that I ought to make an appearance at the awards ceremony, at least.” He looked at his wife, smiling. “Honey, you can skip the statistics one, but the awards ceremony is a banquet; you’ll probably want to go to that. No sense passing up a free fancy dinner, after all!” He looked down at the schedule again, tapping the paper thoughtfully, then glanced up at Joe. “Can you four split yourselves up so that at least two of you are always available to help me out during the two daily sessions?”

“Sure, Dad.” They exchanged looks and a few comments, and swiftly decided that Frank and Megan would handle the morning sessions, while Joe and Vanessa would cover the afternoons.

“That way I can sleep in,” Joe flexed his shoulders luxuriously. “Van and I can spend some of the morning on the beach, while you two have to be up and alert and efficient and professional—”

“Oh, HUSH!” Frank batted him lightly on the back of the head. “You have to be up tomorrow, remember? Eight o’clock meet-and-greet!”

An early dinner at the hotel’s open-air restaurant was a culinary delight, as Lt. McCullough had promised. The Hardy party was also entertained by the fact that birds fluttered in and out throughout the meal, and boldly perched on empty tables, sampling the remains of customers’ dinners. Vanessa, carrying a small digital camera in her purse, snapped pictures again and again of the cheeky intruders.

“Those birds better stay away from this, or I’ll be forced to commit animal cruelty,” Frank muttered, shielding his Chicken Laulau with one hand as a small invader swooped past the table. He cut a piece of the ti-leaf-wrapped entree, and bit into it with evident pleasure. Megan and Vanessa, who had both chosen the Chicken Luau, giggled at the comment. Megan sliced off a bit of hers and mouthed ‘want a bite?’ to Frank, who nodded and obligingly exchanged some of his dinner for hers.

“You just can’t get fish that tastes like this on the East Coast.” Fenton shook his head ruefully, then took another bite of his freshly caught mahi-mahi with enjoyment. Laura, who had ordered the same thing, nodded agreement.

“You can smell a little smoke in the air,” Joe observed. “And I don’t mean from the kitchen or the cooking pit, or whatever, either. It’s sort of sulfuric.”

“From the volcano, maybe?” Vanessa’s eyes widened.

“Probably. Don’t worry, babe, it’s not going to attack us; we’re 50 miles away.” Joe winked at her and grinned.

After dinner, which concluded with dishes of mango ice cream for dessert, Fenton and Laura indicated that they intended to spend some time in the lounge, from whence the soft strains of steel guitars and other instruments announced the presence of live music. The ‘younger set’ decided something a little more active was in line.

“Let’s go for a walk on the beach,” Megan proposed. “Remember what fun we had doing that at Lake Tahoe…before everything went kerflooey?”

“That works for me,” Joe seconded, and Frank and Vanessa quickly agreed.

Hastily changing into beach attire from the slightly dressier clothing they’d worn to dinner, the four assembled once more in the hotel lobby, and set out for the water’s edge. They discovered that a quaint footbridge actually connected the parking lot with a beach which evidently was also a small park, and trooped across it happily, heading for the seductively warm Pacific. The sun was still above the horizon, but barely. Soon it would sink into the blue waters, and night would descend.

“Ooooh…” Vanessa kicked her sandals off and broke into a run, straight into the serene wavelets. “It’s warm…it’s warm! It’s – ouch! Coral!” She halted, stooping to rub her bare foot.

Immediately solicitous, Joe hurried to her side. “You okay, babe? You didn’t get cut, did you?” He wrapped protective arms about her, holding her up while she inspected her foot.

“Nope, no cuts. But this stuff isn’t all that pleasant to walk on, there’s all sorts of sharp shells and rocks; remind me to wear beach shoes or something, after this!” Vanessa straightened up and encircled Joe’s neck with her arms. “However, I like the attention very much…” She pressed her lips against his as they stood in the ankle-deep water, an occasional wave splashing as high as their knees.

“They probably want some privacy,” Megan whispered to Frank, indicating the younger duo with a tilt of her head. “We could walk down the beach a little ways.”

“When he’s in this kind of mood, Joe wouldn’t care if they were in the middle of a marching band,” Frank countered, grinning. He pulled his girlfriend back against his chest, resting his cheek on top of the soft, red-gold waves and crossing his arms in front of her. “We can wait ‘em out. We’ve got a perfect view of the sunset from here, and I’m not going to let him run me off just because he wants to chew Vanessa’s lip off—”

Whatever else Frank was about to say was swallowed up in a gasp and a shout of laughter, as Vanessa – evidently not quite as caught up in the moment as Joe – slyly slid one foot behind Joe’s ankle and then shoved, toppling the younger Hardy off balance and catapulting them both into the water!

“WHOA! WHATHE…! Vanessa!” Joe emitted an outraged bellow. “WHATINTHE…” He stopped yelling momentarily to spit out a mouthful of salty brine. “You…you….” He struggled to get up, only to be pulled down into the water again by the laughing Vanessa.

Megan, her infectious, bewitching laughter bubbling, backed away from the melee, pulling Frank with her. They sat down on the sand at a safe distance, and calmly watched the struggle with great enjoyment.

“It’s sort of like a horrible parody of that scene in From Here to Eternity, isn’t it?” Frank observed, making Megan giggle even more.

Vanessa was laughing so hard she brought on a coughing attack, an occurrence which, once he realized what was happening, caused Joe to make a 180-degree turn from ire to concern. Scrambling out of the surf and dragging his girlfriend behind him, Joe held her up, patting her back soothingly until she finally stopped coughing, and was breathing normally once more.

“You,” Joe pronounced then, grimly, “are a demon, Vanessa Bender! You oughta be spanked!” He ruefully began to wring the water from his clothing. “And you’d better not get sick again, from that little demonstration!” he added, trying to sound severe.

“It was fun, though,” she replied. “Don’t you think it was fun, Joe?” Long lashes batted over big, gray-blue eyes. “Come on, wasn’t it fun…baby?” She fluttered her eyelashes again.

Joe shook his head in utter defeat. “If I didn’t love you so much, I’d drown you!” he said, and pulled her close for an emphatic kiss.

“Come on, you two.” Frank rose and extended a hand to Megan to pull her to her feet. “Let’s get on with the walk. It’s warm enough; you’ll dry pretty soon.” He and Megan set out down the beach once more, followed at a little distance by their damp companions. “I hope you don’t have any fiendish ideas about emulating Vanessa?” he murmured in Megan’s ear, twining his fingers tightly with hers. “I’d rather swim with you in the sunshine – and a swimsuit, not shorts and a t-shirt. I can do without sand in my underwear, thanks all the same.”

“No intention of taking a swim tonight,” she assured him. “I’d just as soon not get all wet and gloppy right now, either. Tomorrow, though – better keep an eye out, Frank, who knows what I might decide to do?!”

“Whatever you decide to do is okay by me, baby,” he whispered, and brought their clasped hands up to press a brief kiss on the one which wore the blue topaz ring. “And I do mean anything.” He tried his best suggestive leer. “Your mother isn’t around now,” he reminded her with a little nudge.

“You are bad,” she murmured. “Have you been taking lessons from Joe?”

“Hey!” Frank scowled in mock outrage. “I do not need to take lessons from Joe, you hear me? I’m perfectly capable of being bad all on my own!”

“Right,” Megan scoffed. “Big, bad Frank Hardy, the Scourge of...of...something-or-other,” she ended lamely. With innate tact, she switched subjects. “This is so incredibly lovely,” she breathed, gazing about with wide eyes that matched the sea in color. “I can’t believe I’m really here, and that we left freezing, snowy Bayport just this morning!”

“I knew you’d love it,” Frank smiled. “Joe and I’ve been here before, a couple of times, and I agree, it’s really pretty. I’ve always liked it. But having you here to share it with – baby, it makes it ten times better!”

They walked a long time, each couple only peripherally aware of the other, although they stayed within easy speaking distance, until the last vestiges of daylight disappeared into the swift tropical night, and brilliant stars began to appear in the darkening sky. Only then did they turn to make their way back to the hotel.

As they neared it, the beach became more and more crowded with other people out enjoying a quiet stroll on the sand. Or in the case of the hefty Hawaiian man who jogged right between them, nearly brushing shoulders with Vanessa on one side and Frank on the other, a NOT-so-quiet stroll!

“Jeez, you’d think people would watch where they’re going, wouldn’t you?” Joe fumed, gazing after the jogger.

“It’s okay, no harm done,” Vanessa soothed him. “Let’s get back to the hotel, huh? All of a sudden I’m remembering that I got up on Eastern time, and we added five hours to the day! I’m pooped!”

They trooped across the little bridge, crossed the parking lot, and went into the hotel, ignoring people’s amused looks and comments on Joe’s and Vanessa’s bedraggled state. None of them noticed the jogger, who had halted, and turned to look after them, his brilliant dark eyes narrowed.

Yes…that one ought to do nicely!

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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.