Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

Alone in a house located on the corner of Elm and High Streets, an anxious mother tried to distract herself by cooking a scrumptious gourmet dinner for her family. Every so often, she would glance at the clock set high on the kitchen wall. And with each glance, she grew more and more nervous. It was already past five in the evening. She couldn’t help but feel a tiny tendril of fear slowly growing and wrapping itself around her heart.

‘Nothing happened,’ she told herself sternly.

Her mind refused to cooperate. ‘Something’s gone wrong!’ her gut instinct wailed.

She willfully forced back an impending panic attack. She had to stay strong. Her family needed her. She knew her husband and eldest were working around the clock and doing all they could. They needed her support; to believe in them, and have faith that they would solve the mystery surrounding the disappearance of her youngest just over a week back. The only clue left behind was half a piece of a gingerbread man. Whatever was that supposed to mean? And they could not even be certain if it was a clue, or a contamination of the crime scene!

Her heart started racing again and she reached out for her favorite family photo sitting proudly in its Bohemien Crystal frame for comfort. It showed the four of them engaged in a pillow fight in their cozy living room. The mother smiled a little at that memory. She and her husband was having a little private snuggle time when their sons sneaked up on them and started pounding them with pillows. And Vanessa, her younger son’s girlfriend, had taken the opportunity to take a snapshot of that crazy scene when one of the pillows burst at its seams and rained feathers all over the living room. That picture captured for eternity one of the happiest, craziest, childish moment of her adult and family life. Sporty and feisty, Vanessa was a good match for her hyperactive outgoing baby. And Callie complemented her elder’s seriousness with her wit and easygoing manner. Both Callie and Vanessa had called or stopped by daily not only to check for news on Joe, but also to make sure she was coping. Yes, both her sons had chosen well.

She reached out with her fingers to lightly trace her baby’s features on the photograph. First she touched wavy golden locks that he inherited from her, letting it slowly slide down to his smiling face. For the merest second, she felt an inexplicable fear that this time was different, that she would never see her son’s sparkling blue eyes smiling back at her again, that she would never again hear him laugh or crack another joke…

But they would find him! She thought fiercely. They would find her baby. It was just a matter of time. Her husband had yet to fail her, and her eldest was almost equally skilled. All she had to do was to believe and to trust.

But that was so hard! The seconds crawled by. Her mind conjured up all sorts of horrors that her youngest could be going through, and those tortured her heart, even as her heart wanted to believe and to trust. If only she could be out there searching for her son rather than staying at home! She felt so helpless, and so useless. Her son, her flesh and blood was taken from her; she was powerless to prevent it and totally dependent on others to find him. The tiny tendril grew into tendrils laced with sharp little spikes, and tightened themselves about her heart. She let her son down. If anything was to happen to him, it was her failure as a mother to keep him safe.

The fear and self-recrimination grew. The sense of powerlessness suddenly overwhelmed her. She had to gasp for breath. She could not breathe!

The mother fought hard against herself. Calm, she had to stay calm! Now breathe; inhale, exhale. And again; inhale, exhale. It took a long while for her to regain control of her fear. She looked at the clock again. That was a mistake. Her eldest was not back yet! The recently subdued fear returned with a vengeance, and crashed through her recently constructed defenses as if they were paper. It threatened to overwhelm her. Panic bred desperation and gave rise to anger. She turned her newly risen wrath on her absent eldest.

‘Frank should be home by now,’ she fumed silently. ‘Doesn’t he know that we will worry?! When did he become so irresponsible?!’

Just as quickly, her anger dissipated. Her eldest had always been disciplined and responsible. She felt a little guilty for thinking otherwise. At that reminder, she felt her mother’s instinct screaming at her again. This time, she managed it better, and the terror receded. Another quick glance at the kitchen clock said six pm. Frank really should have been home an hour ago.

She bit her lip in frustration and reached for her cell phone. Her eldest turned eighteen recently, and she really should not be mothering him overly. She paused. And hemmed, and hawed. Finally, she flipped open her cell and pressed the number. Frank would understand her anxiety, given the current situation. She waited for Frank to pick up the phone.

The doorbell rang.

She froze for an instant. The cell phone slipped from her suddenly weak hands, and dropped onto the floor. The sound it hitting the vinyl kitchen floor startled her back to awareness. She moved.

It was her house, but it felt like she was in someone else’s house as she forced herself down the hallway to the door. Her heart was beating so fast and so hard, she thought it might burst. The earlier feeling of terror returned. She knew without doubt she would not like whatever that was on the other side of the door. But she had to know.

‘Maybe Frank forgot his keys,’ She knew as soon as the thoughts formed that she was deluding herself.

She opened the door. It was Police Chief Ezra Collig and Officer Con Riley. They were close family friends. Her heart almost stopped. But somehow she managed to find strength to hang on. She had to know.

‘Maybe they found some leads to Joe,’ she thought again bleakly, and knew she was lying to herself. She was terrified and she was desperate.

“Laura, is Frank home yet?” Ezra enquired in a gentle tone.

“No,” she said, and was proud of the fact that her voice sounded normal.

Laura tightened her grip on the doorframe. She noted both Ezra and Con giving each other an uneasy glance. That boded ill.

“Tell me!” Laura demanded of both Ezra and Con.

Ezra fidgeted a little before responding, “Laura, maybe we should wait for Fenton to get home…”

Then Laura noticed a little evidence bag in Con’s hand. With a move too fast for Con to react, she grabbed it, and saw.

It was a half of a gingerbread man. It was the top half this time. And the sugar frosting smile on the face mocked at her. The gingerbread man was a cookie to light up the features of any child. Yet it was such an ominous little sweet to her now. She had no doubt this half a piece matched the bottom half that was left behind when Joe went missing.

“No…” she whispered.

Dark spots appeared before her, and grew until total darkness claimed her. She wobbled unsteadily on her feet. As she fell, she could feel Ezra’s strong hands reaching out to catch her. Then she knew no more.

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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.