Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

Everyone calls Joe the ‘trouble magnet’ because he always seems to be the one with the bump on the head or the black eye. Some people even used to say that Joe went looking for trouble, but that’s not true.

I, on the other hand, I created, was involved in, and went looking for more trouble than I care to remember, in my younger days, that is. Even when I was only eight or nine years old, I was bigger than all the other kids at school, and they were all afraid of me.

And then one day I said some stuff to Chet, things that even now I am ashamed of, and Joe Hardy, this little stocky kid that only came up to my shoulder at the time, well he came charging for me, shouting and hollering for me to leave his friend alone, and then Frank got involved, and pretty soon I was put in my place, maybe for the first time.

And then, gradually, for no apparent reason, Joe and I became friends, and gradually grew closer and closer. We’re alike you see, both hot-headed, both ruled totally by our hearts, and we’d both give anything, maybe everything, to help our friends.

But sometimes I still get it wrong. Like that evening, in the bar, when I saw Jimmy Harris sitting there, drinking a beer, like he hadn’t a care in the world.

I guess I just saw red. My temper has always been my biggest downfall. Funnily enough though, nowadays it’s Joe who can always calm me down, maybe because I’m afraid that he’ll get twice as mad if I don’t.

But Joe wasn’t there now

“Well, well, Jimmy Harris. We’d like a word, SCUM!”

The word was out of my mouth before I realised it, and of course, Jimmy Harris took one look at Frank, Tony and I, and leaped down from his barstool like a man suddenly possessed, and shot out the back door of the bar!

“Oh well done, Biff,” Frank retorted at his friend, as they took off after him. No one else in the bar seemed to think there was anything strange about someone getting chased out the back door; obviously it was a regular occurrence.

The re was never going to be any contest though; Jimmy Harris was obviously a heavy smoker as well as a drinker, and he collapsed in a fit of coughing half way down the alley that ran behind the bar.

Biff was the first to reach the fallen man. He dragged him to his feet and, pinning one hand behind the man’s back, he shoved the man against the wall of the bar, facing him towards the wall.

Tony grabbed Harris’s other arm so that he was completely helpless.

Jimmy Harris was a tall man, in his mid-thirties, with slightly thinning red hair; he was rough looking, as if he had spent most of his life running away from people.

”What the hell!” he yelled, “Who do you think you guys are, the Mafia? Get off me. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Where’s Fenton Radley?” Frank’s voice was cool, almost menacing.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he began, “I didn’t do anything, who the hell are you guys, huh? This is harassment”

“No, THIS is harassment.” Frank grabbed Harris’s hair and pulled his head backwards whilst pressing his knee into the small of the man’s back. Harris let out a yelp of pain. Frank let go reluctantly. “See the difference, Harris?” he continued. “Now, WHERE is Fenton Radley and WHERE is my brother?”

A look of near-surprise passed almost imperceptibly between Biff and Tony. This was a different side to Frank Hardy, one they rarely saw.

“Uh, Frank, go easy, huh?” Tony Prito tried to calm his oldest friend, sensing that the frustration might be starting to take its toll on the older Hardy.

Frank ignored Tony and continued staring straight at Harris.

“So you’re the great Frank Hardy.” Harris voice dripped sarcasm.

Biff tightened his grip on the man’s arm just a little, causing him to yelp out in pain yet again.

“Where is he, Harris?” Biff’s voice was low and very, very threatening. “Don’t mess us around, I would like nothing better than to break this arm of yours, and I swear, unless you start talking, I will”

Jimmy Harris knew that Biff Hooper was serious, and he also knew that Biff Hooper was more than capable of carrying out the threat, that this man would do anything to help his friends.

“Okay, look, I’ll tell you what I know….”

And a half an hour later we were in the car again, heading back to Frank and Joe’s apartment….

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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.