Hardy Boys Fan Fiction at the HDA - Lost Sons

“Poor Aunt Gertrude seemed a little crushed,” Joe commented wickedly. “You think Dad might have been telling a few white lies about what he really got up to when he was younger?”

“Probably. You know, he’s a lot more like you than I thought.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” said Joe, refusing to rise to the bait. “Hey, look! Isn’t that Callie walking to school?”

But Frank had already spotted the pretty blond and was pulling over to offer her a lift. “Hey, Callie!” he called. “Do you need a ride to school?”

Callie turned around and her face split in a wide grin. “Hi, Frank! Yeah, thanks, that’d be great. Hey, Joe,” she greeted the younger Hardy as she climbed into the back seat.

“Hi, Callie,” he answered. “Where’s your car?”

“In the garage, some lunatic drove into me on the way home last night,” she explained.

“What? Are you okay?” asked Frank at once.

“Yeah, only the car got damaged. I’d like to get my hands on that other driver though,” Callie fumed.

“What do you mean?” Joe raised his eyebrows.

“The jerk crashed into me and then just kept driving!” Callie told them. “I didn’t even get the licence plate number.”

“He didn’t even stop to see if you were okay?” Frank was outraged. “Did you call the police?”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t matter, they probably won’t find the guy,” Callie sighed. “Con Riley called our house this morning. They found a stolen car abandoned beyond Porter’s Point and the description fits the one that crashed into me. I’m going out to the station after school to have a look.”

“Stolen!” exclaimed Joe, starting to get excited. “Hey, maybe Frank and I could look into it?”

“I doubt it,” said Callie with a small grin. “The car was stolen in New York.”

“Oh,” said Joe, a little crestfallen.

Frank and Callie exchanged a grin in the review mirror. “Cheer up, Joe,” said Frank. “I’m sure another case will come along soon. Dad was talking of helping Mike with his case last night, maybe he’ll bring us along too.”

“You’ve really been bitten by the detective bug, Joe,” Callie commented. “Although it’s easy to see why, it sounds very exciting.”

“Lets just hope that something comes along soon,” said Joe. “The real world is so boring after detective work.”

“We only finished our first case yesterday!” Frank laughed. “You can’t be bored already!”

“Well, it’s like Callie said,” Joe defended himself. “Detective work is exciting.”

“Don’t get to used to it,” Frank reminded him. “We’re still in school and I doubt there are too many crimes in Bayport that need solving.”

***

Frank was glad when Friday night finally rolled around. Joe had been restless and fidgety all week, and was constantly complaining of being ‘bored.’ The older Hardy hoped that the Hooper’s party would help to dispel some of his nervous energy.

The party was already in full swing when the boys arrived. Chinese lanterns had been strung up around the garden to combat the gathering dusk, while some lively music drifted from the stereo on the back porch.

“Frank! Joe!” they heard Biff’s voice call as they stepped off the porch. They turned to see the blond boy hurrying towards them, a beaming smile on his face. The tall, muscular figure of his brother Nick followed closely behind.

“Nick!” Joe exclaimed in delight, jumping forward and pumping the young man’s hand. “Welcome home!”

Nick laughed as he returned the hand shake. “It’s good to be home. Damn, Joe, look at you! You’ve grown so tall that I wouldn’t recognise you.” He ruffled Joe’s hair affectionately and Frank had to stifle a grin as Joe beamed. Nick Hooper was probably the only person in the world Joe would allow to do that to him. He had always hero-worshiped the eldest Hooper.

“Frank, how are you?” asked Nick turning to him and shaking his hand.

“I’m good. Welcome home, Nick,” Frank returned warmly.

“Guys, you want a soda?” Biff interrupted.

“Sure.” Frank followed Biff into the house, leaving Joe to catch up with Nick.

“I bet you’re glad to have Nick home,” Frank commented.

Biff nodded. “You have no idea, Frank. Man, I really missed having him around.”

“I can imagine.”

“Hi, guys! Where’s the food?” piped up a voice from behind them.

“Trust that to be the first question you ask,” Biff teased as he turned to face Chet Morten. Iola and Callie stood just behind him.

“Hey, I have a reputation to maintain,” Chet protested. “And you didn’t answer my question.”

Biff rolled his eyes. “Out back. The weather is so nice that Dad’s doing a barbecue.”

“Leave some for us!” Iola called after her brother as he rushed out the door.

Frank, meanwhile, was trying not to stare at Callie. The blonde girl looked extremely pretty in a simple white sundress and the teenager could feel a familiar heat beginning to steal across his face.

“Hi, Frank,” Callie greeted him warmly. “Not off chasing another mystery this weekend?”

“Don’t say that too loud,” Iola laughed. “Joe’s been complaining about the lack of mysteries all week.”

“He can’t hear you,” said Frank. “He’s out back talking to Nick.”

“More like being dazzled,” Iola commented dryly. “I’d better go say hello.”

“I’ll come with you!” said Biff quickly, with a sly grin at Callie and Frank. He and Iola shot out the back door, leaving a red-faced Frank and a bemused looking Callie standing in their wake.

“So,” Callie smiled at Frank.

“So,” Frank mumbled back.

There was silence for several minutes.

“Er, would you like a drink?” Frank asked.

“I’d love one, thanks.”

Frank reached into the fridge and pulled out a bottle of soda. He handed it to Callie and gulped as he felt her fingers brush his.

Okay, keep it together, Hardy! he scolded himself. She’s just a girl!

But it was very hard to keep telling himself that every time Callie’s warm brown eyes crinkled in a smile. Frank swallowed. He had wanted to ask her out for months but he could never seem to get her alone. And now they were alone together; it was the perfect opportunity.

Frank took a deep breath.

“Ahem…Callie,” he began. “I…I was just wondering-”

“Hey guys, where is everyone?” a cheerful voice sounded and Frank groaned inwardly as he turned to face Tony Prito and Phil Cohen. Phil’s date, a pretty red-head stood behind them.

“Out back,” Frank sighed. Of all the lousy timing.

“Oh great, soda,” Tony continued, reaching for the fridge. “I’m parched. Phil, Karen, do you want one?”

“Sure,” Phil agreed. “Hey, Frank, hi, Callie.”

“Hey,” replied Frank. Please go out back! Please go out back!

“Frank, are you and Joe doing anything on Sunday?” Tony asked, as he handed two bottles of Cola to Phil and Karen.

Frank shook his head, silently pleading with Tony to leave. Unfortunately, Tony remained completely oblivious.

“Great!” he exclaimed cheerfully. “Dad’s been talking of buying a boat for the past few months and he’s heading down to the wharf tomorrow to have a look at some. If he buys one, do you guys fancy going out in it on Sunday?”

“Oh, that sounds like fun!” Karen interrupted. “I’ve never been on a boat before.”

“Never?” gasped Tony in disbelief. “But we’re right on the coast!”

“I know, but my mother doesn’t like the water,” Karen explained.

Tony! Frank moaned silently, as the conversation showed signs of growing. He turned his attention to Phil who was quicker on the uptake.

“I think we should say hello to Nick, Tony,” he cut in, understanding Frank at once. “After all, it’s his party.”

“Oh yeah,” Tony agreed, looking around. “Where is Nick anyhow?”

“Out back,” Frank answered helpfully.

“We’d better go see-oh look, they’re coming in!” said Tony cheerfully.

Frank sighed.

***

Frank didn’t get Callie alone again for the rest of the night. As the party wound down, he found himself watching longingly as Callie got into a car with Chet and Iola. They were giving her a ride home.

I should have offered! he grumbled, mentally kicking himself.

“Hey, Frank,” came Phil’s soft voice from behind him. “Sorry, we interrupted you earlier.”

Frank turned around and gave him a rueful grin. “Was I that obvious?”

“Like a homing beacon,” Phil told him.

“Great!” Frank groaned.

“If it’s any consolation, Callie looked ready to kill Tony too.”

“Who wants to kill me?” asked Tony, coming out the front door. Joe and Biff were behind him.

“No one,” said Phil quickly. “Figure of speech.”

“Frank, did Nick tell you about the fighter plane he’s learning to fly?” Joe interrupted excitedly, clearly not listening to any other conversation.

“He didn’t need to, you’ve already told me three times,” Frank reminded him dryly.

“Could you imagine flying one of those things?” Joe said to Biff, not even hearing Frank. “Do you think he’d be allowed to bring family members up in it when he gets his licence? I could pretend to be his brother-”

“You’ve already got a brother!” Frank punched him on the shoulder. “And he’s ready to go home.”

“I’m coming! I’m coming!” said Joe, glaring at Frank while he rubbed his arm. “Just let me say good bye to Chet and Iola.”

“They just left,” Frank told him.

“Without saying goodbye?” Joe looked annoyed.

“They did say goodbye,” Phil answered with a grin. “You and Biff were too busy worshipping at the alter of Nick to notice!”

Joe scowled and turned red. “Well, I haven’t seen him in over a year.”

“Don’t worry, Joe, we get it,” said Frank consolingly. “Come on, it’s after twelve. Mom and Dad will be wondering where we are.”

The boys said their good nights and headed for their car.

“Don’t forget about Sunday!” Tony called after them.

“What’s Tony talking about?” Joe asked as they sat into the car.

“Mr. Prito is buying a boat tomorrow and Tony wants us to take it out for a spin with him on Sunday,” Frank explained, starting up the car. “I said we’d go.”

“Sounds cool. Say, did you get to ask Callie out?”

“What?” Frank spluttered. “How did you…?”

“Come on, Frank!” said Joe impatiently. “You two have been making googly-eyes at each other for months. When Iola told me they’d left you two alone in the kitchen, I thought for sure you’d make a move!”

“I didn’t get the chance.”

“That’s always your excuse.“ Joe rolled his eyes. “Stop being such a wuss, ask her out.”

“I’m trying! And I’m not a wuss.”

“Yeah right,” Joe grumbled. “I wish you’d just get on with it, you’ve been mooning after her for months now.”

“I have not!” exclaimed Frank indignantly. “And why does it matter so much to you anyway?”

Joe rolled his eyes again. “Because I’m the one who has to put up with you. And if asking Callie out means that you’ll get back to normal, or as near to normal as you get…”

“Very funny,” said Frank sarcastically.

“…then I’m all for it,” Joe finished.

“Yeah, well it’s not that easy to ask someone out.”

“Sure it is. You just ask them if they want to see a movie.”

“Let’s see you do it then!” Frank challenged, as he stopped the car at a red light.

“There’s no one in Bayport that I want to ask out.”

“Yeah right!” The words were out of Frank’s mouth before he could stop them.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Joe shifted in his seat and glared at his brother.

“Nothing,” Frank muttered as the light changed to green and he drove on. He had suspected for a very long time that Joe had a crush on Iola Morten, but it was a subject Joe was very touchy about and liable to explode over if mentioned.

“No it’s not. Spit it out, Frank!”

“I just meant that it’s easy for you to say when you don’t have to do it,” Frank muttered.

There was silence in the car for several minutes while Joe stared suspiciously at him. Then Frank changed the subject.

“Why kind of boat do you think Tony’s Dad will get?”

“Probably a motorboat,” Joe answered, settling back in his seat. “Mr. Prito told me once that he didn’t like rowing boats. He said the work took all the fun out of sailing.”

Frank chuckled. “Well, either way, a boat would be fun. I wonder what name they’ll put on it?”

“Dunno,” Joe shrugged. “What name would you put on a boat?”

“I’ve always liked the idea of a boat called The Sleuth,” Frank admitted. “Does that sound really lame?”

“No, I kinda like it. Hey, do you think Mom and Dad would let us get a boat when we’re older?”

“I think we’d have to be alot older.”

“Yeah,” Joe sighed and looked out the window.

Frank grinned to himself as he drove up High Street. Joe had already forgotten about his comment. That was his brother all over; he blew up quickly but forgot about it in the next instant. Joe wasn’t one to bear grudges.

“Hey, the lights are still on at home!” Joe interrupted Frank’s thoughts as he turned the car onto Elm Street. “Someone’s still up.”

“Probably Dad,” said Frank as he parked the car. “Wonder if he’s working on a case?”

“Let’s go see!” said Joe in excitement and was out of the car and running up the drive before Frank had even taken the keys out of the ignition.

Frank quickly locked the car and followed his brother. As he entered the house, he could hear voices coming from his father’s study; it sounded like his brother was pleading with his father. Frank trotted down the hall and entered the study, closing the door that Joe had left open.

“Hi, Dad,” said Frank.

“Hello, Frank. How was the party?”

“Pretty good,” he replied, not including his dismal results in getting Callie alone.

“I’m glad. Joe, will you please stop tapping your fingers on the desk!” Fenton added to his youngest in exasperation.

“Come on, Dad,” Joe wheedled. “What case are you working on?”

Fenton sighed as Frank raised his eyebrows at him and grinned. “Alright, I’ll tell you. Take a seat.”

“Yesss!” Joe cried and flung himself into an easy chair, one leg dangling over the side. Frank seated himself in the chair across from his father’s desk.

“I’m helping Mike with his case,” Fenton began. “It’s a missing person’s case, a young boy in fact, the same age as you, Frank.”

“That sucks,” said Frank quietly.

“Yes, it does,” his father agreed. “The boy’s name is Andrew Watson, and he disappeared five weeks ago on his way to school. No one has seen or heard from him since, although Mike had a tip-off that Andrew was here in Bayport. It turned out to be false.”

“Is that why Mike was in Bayport?” asked Joe.

Fenton nodded. “The boy’s parents are beside themselves with worry. They said Andrew is a good boy who wouldn’t have run away.”

“So he must have been kidnapped,” Frank guessed. “Has the kidnapper contacted them?”

Fenton shook his head.

“Do they know of anyone who would want to hurt them?” Joe asked quietly.

Fenton glanced at him and sighed. “Andrew’s father is a Reverend. He’s good man with no enemies. They have no idea who would want to hurt them or Andrew. All their friends say the same thing.”

“What about Andrew’s friends?” Frank wanted to know.

“Same thing. Andrew was a friendly, popular boy who got on with everyone.”

Frank frowned. “What about the tip-off that he was here in Bayport?”

“An elderly lady had seen his picture on the news and thought she had seen the missing boy here. It turned out to be a local boy.”

“What does Mike want you to do?” asked Joe. He was sitting up straight now, his leg no longer dangling over the side.

“I’m not sure yet,” Fenton answered. “He called me this evening and asked me to drive up to New York tomorrow morning. He said there was new evidence but he wouldn’t tell me over the phone.”

“Can we come?” Joe asked and Fenton bit his lip.

“To be honest, Joe, I’d rather you boys weren’t involved in this case.”

“Why not?” asked Frank. “We could help like we did at SecuriCorp last weekend!”

“This case is more difficult, Frank.”

“But we could help, Dad!” Frank protested. “And we wouldn’t be in the way, I promise.”

“That’s not the issue!”

“Then what is?” Frank demanded.

His father looked at him sharply. “Frank, when I say no I mean no!”

Frank looked at the floor. “Sorry, Dad.”

His father sighed. “I didn’t mean to snap, Frank. It’s just that this case hits a little closer to home then I would like.”

Silence fell and Frank glanced at Joe who was staring resolutely at a spot on the wall. Eventually, Joe glanced at Frank and then looked at their father.

“I’m with Frank, Dad, I’d like to help,” he said.

Fenton frowned at him. “Joe, I don’t like that idea.”

“Please, Dad?” he said quietly. “I’d like to help Andrew…I bet he’s scared.”

Fenton sighed. “Alright. You boys can help. But only with paperwork and looking over evidence. You are doing absolutely no fieldwork, got that?”

They nodded and Fenton smiled. “You’d better get to bed. It’s nearly one and we have an early start tomorrow.”

***

Frank sat beside his father in the front seat as they drove to New York the next morning. Joe was sprawled over in the back seat. He had fallen asleep before they had even left Bayport.

“He can sleep anywhere, can’t he?” said Fenton, with an affectionate glance at the prone figure in the back.

“Yup,” Frank agreed. “Wish I could do the same.”

“He gets it from Gertrude,” said Fenton. “She was always the same. I remember being at our grandfather’s playing hide and seek, and no one could find Gertrude until we heard a little snore from one of the trees in the orchard. Turns out she had hidden up a tree and fallen asleep on the branch!”

“She’s lucky she didn’t fall off!” Frank chuckled, the image of his aunt actually up a tree as strange as the image of his aunt sleeping in a tree. “How long until we get to New York, Dad?”

“Another two hours. We can drop our stuff off at the hotel and then we’ll head to the station to meet Mike.”

“Did you tell him we were coming?”

Fenton shook his head. “I haven’t spoken to him since yesterday afternoon.”

“He’s in for a surprise.”

Fenton grinned. “He sure is.” His smile faded. “Frank, are you sure about this? What I said last night-”

“I know what you said, Dad. Joe will be fine, he wouldn’t have asked to come if he didn’t want to.”

“What about you?”

Frank looked at his father. “I agree with Joe. I’d like to help Andrew, bring him back to his family.”

“Me too, Frank. Lets hope we do just that.”

***

When they reached New York, the Hardys checked into their hotel and freshened up before heading downtown to the station.

Joe, now fully awake, watched the Saturday morning traffic-jams with interest. New York had always fascinated him. “Dad, will you still know people at the station?” he wanted to know.

“Yes,” Fenton answered, his eyes glued to the road. “There are a few officers there who were there in my time, and Sam Peterson of course.”

Samuel Peterson, Chief of the New York Police Department, had been their father’s mentor. The boys had never met him but they had heard a lot about him. It was a meeting they were very much looking forward to.

When they finally got to the station, it was over half an hour later. “It would have been quicker walking,” Joe muttered, as his father parked the car.

Fenton laughed. “True, but we might need the car to go somewhere else later.”

As they entered the station, the Desk Sergeant looked up and his face split in a wide grin. “Fenton Hardy! It’s been a long time!”

“Des, good to see you again,” returned Fenton warmly, shaking the man’s hand.

“These your boys?”

“They are. This is Frank, and this is Joe.”

“Fine boys,” said the man shaking their hands. “And if this one isn’t the spitting image of you,” he added wonderingly, staring at Frank.

“Fenton Hardy!” they heard a shout from across the room. “Well I’ll be damned! What scum has dragged you down here to this hole?”

The boys turned and saw a tall, fat man making his way across the room. His uniform strained across his ample stomach, and his balding hair was combed unflatteringly to one side.

“Hello, Steve,” Fenton returned as he held out his hand. “How’ve you been?”

“Just fine,” answered the man, gripping Fenton’s hand harder than necessary. “How ‘bout you? I’m sure New York is a bit of a shock to the system after all those years in your cushy detective job!”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it cushy,” said Fenton through gritted teeth.

Frank and Joe were watching the exchange closely, noting their father’s stiff stance.

Wow, he really doesn’t like this guy! Joe realised.

“And these must be your boys?” he enquired, strolling around Fenton and coming to a halt in front of Frank and Joe. “Steve Johnson, boys,” he said, holding out a grubby hand to Frank. The teenager noticed that he didn’t ask for their names. Unwillingly, he took hold of the sweaty palm and shook it.

“You’re just like your Daddy, ain’t ya?” said the man, his face uncomfortably close to Frank’s. For a moment, Frank thought he could see hate in the man’s eyes, but then it was gone and he wondered if he had imagined it.

The man turned to Joe, whose expression was one of dislike as he took the man’s hand. “Now this one is more like his Momma,” the man continued, staring intently at Joe. “She was a pretty woman, Laura, a very pretty woman!” He leered a little and pinched Joe’s cheek.

Uh-oh! thought Frank, as he watched Joe’s colour rise along with his temper. He knew Joe wouldn’t appreciate the dig at his mother, or being treated like a little kid. Fortunately, any explosions were averted by another voice.

“Johnson, why don’t you move away from the boys before you infect them with something?” It was a woman’s voice, dripping with disdain, and Steve scowled as he turned to face the speaker.

“Leona, when I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it!” he snapped. Then he faced Fenton again. “See you around, Hardy.”

“What a jerk!” Joe mumbled, as he walked away. Frank shot him a warning glance.

“Leona,” Fenton welcomed the newcomer in a warm voice. “It’s been a long time.”

“And who’s fault is that?” she demanded, coming into view. “Hardy, you’ve forgotten your roots.”

“I’ll never forget my roots,” Fenton told the woman as he hugged her warmly. Frank and Joe stared, agog. Their father was hugging another woman!

“Boys, this is Leona Richards,” he told them, letting her go and turning around. “She taught me a lot of what I know.”

“Suuuure I did, you old charmer!” she rolled her eyes and came towards the boys. They saw that she was a woman several years older than their father, her dark hair tied in a pony tail. As they shook her hand and introduced themselves, the woman’s firm grip and no-nonsense voice told them that, despite her small size, she would be a force to contend with.

“Mike’s in the office,” she told Fenton. “He’s been expecting you. Come on, this way.”

The boys followed their father and Leona among several rows of desks, stopping every now and then as their father was greeted by an old colleague. Finally they made it to Mike’s office.

“Morning, Mike,” said Fenton entering the office.

“Hi, Fent-” Mike looked up as he greeted Fenton and his voice trailed off as his eyes landed on Frank and Joe. His face took on an expression of horror. “You brought the boys?!”

“Sure,” said Fenton, a little confused. “They wanted to help and I thought looking over the notes would be good practice for them. I wasn’t planning on letting them do any field work and I didn’t think you’d mind.”

Mike was shaking his head. “This isn’t the place for them.”

“Mike, give them a chance,” Fenton protested. “They’re young but they’re sharp. I wouldn’t have brought them if I didn’t think they were up to it.”

“I don’t doubt their abilities,” said Mike getting to his feet. “They’re your kids after all. But…