Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

Chapter Title: Reunion

The cell phone clipped to Fritz’s belt then rang.

Fritz said as he unclipped it, "I’ll bet Christine called before. She’s calling again on the cell phone. She has both our numbers."

John nodded, but halted mid‑nod.

Fritz put the portable phone next to his ear, "Hello," then whispered to John, "It’s Christine."

Fritz spoke a little more, then hung up.

"Christine’s found Vicky. Both girls are at Leone’s restaurant. Christine wants me to come, but doesn’t think it would be a good idea to bring you. Vicky is really mad!"

"I’ll bet she is," John said absently, staring off into space as if in such deep thought that this little soap opera wasn’t of interest to him. What he was thinking and not repeating to Fritz was that Christine usually called the cell phone first, not the home phone. Fritz was more likely to answer the cell phone, and she preferred that. It was something he had noticed, but Fritz had not.

Fritz said, "I realize you want to go see Vicky right now, but maybe Christine’s right."

John replied in a calm voice, "Go ahead. I have some things I want to do on my own."

Fritz looked doubtful, but headed out to the rental car. John watched him pull out of the driveway. John then went to the regular house phone. It was a fancy phone. He activated the return‑a‑missed‑call function. Despite many rings, there was no answer, but the LCD display showed the number. John recognized it wasn’t from Leone’s restaurant or from Christine’s home, as he knew both those numbers by heart. John wrote this number on a scrap of paper. He went up to Fritz’s room, which used to be their father’s office. John and Fritz no longer shared a room, having the run of the entire house after their parents and Aunt Grace had moved down to Florida .

John booted up Fritz’s laptop computer. He then started a program they’d gotten through Entangle. He typed in the phone number. The computer showed him it was a pay phone at a certain street corner. The program even produced a nice map on the screen. Rather than print it out, John just grabbed the whole laptop and tossed it in its carry bag.

John then went back to his room and pulled out an old briefcase. He blew some dust off it. Penned in marker on it was Hardly Fingerprint Kit. He smiled as he remembered putting this together with Fritz long ago. When they’d shown it to Conrad Morrow, he had been awed. It had not gotten much use lately. John didn’t think it had been used since they had been at the Mansion on the Mound with Craig Peters.

John then took both the briefcase and the computer in its carrying bag out to the garage. He opened the garage and pulled a tarp off of two motorcycles. These had not gotten much use in many years. The brothers had instead gotten around with the van, sharing it without argument. Before that van, they had yet another van that had also gotten blown up, but nobody had gotten hurt, and that previous van had been quickly replaced. John was not so sure this van would be replaced so soon.

Before the two vans, they had had a sedan. That sedan was the one that Ivana had entered, then it had exploded. Before the sedan, they had a convertible. They had another convertible before that, but had rolled it on its side during one case. They used branches to get it righted and continued on their case, but that car always pulled to left side after that. The alignment had been knocked too far off to be fixed. Thus, that car had been replaced with the other convertible. Before all those vans and cars, the Hardly Boys used to get around Port City and beyond on their motor bikes.

John put on a helmet and wheeled out one of the bikes. The battery was dead after so many years without use, as John had expected. The gas tank was also empty. Fritz had burned the gas out of both machines on purpose to protect them for the winter. However, the next summer, the motorcycles had not been gotten out. Nor the next summer nor the next, for many years.

There was a five gallon jerry can with fresh gasoline for the lawn mower, though. John filled the tank on the motorcycle. He then got the motor going with the kickstarter. He used some bungee cords to strap the computer and briefcase on the back, then headed out to the pay phone.

He found the phone without anybody using it. He hoped no one else had used the phone in the time it took him to get there. He got out the fingerprint kit. He dusted and lifted some prints. Then, he got out the laptop. By now, he was trembling. Many years back, after one of the many times that Conrad Morrow had managed to get himself kidnapped, which used to happen a lot, the Hardly Boys had taken fingerprints of all of their close friends just in case the prints were ever needed. Conrad got returned unharmed that time, as always. All that was many years before Ivana Morrow had seemed to die in the car explosion.

John remembered that a few months ago, Fritz had finally gotten around to scanning all those fingerprints into the laptop. Comparing what was on the phone to the computer showed unmistakable results. This phone had been used just a few minutes ago by Ivana Morrow!

John wondered, “After being gone years, why had she called now? Why hadn’t she waited for the answering machine to kick in?”

John walked slowly in a circle. A block away was a dingy motel. He put away the computer and fingerprint kit. He guessed that Ivana had sneaked out from there to make this call, but had to hurry back or was forced back.

John picked up the pay phone and searched in his pants pockets for a quarter to call Fritz. He checked his jacket pockets too. He had no change other than pennies. He put back the receiver. He climbed on his bike, started it, and headed to the motel.

In another part of the city, Fritz pulled the rental car to a stop in a parking lot that contained only two other cars. One car he recognized as Leone’s and the other as belonging to Christine’s parents. He figured Christine had driven the later, as he knew she often borrowed it since she didn’t own her own car. He got out of his car and hurried to the door of the restaurant. The light was on, but the door wouldn't open when he tugged it.

A voice Fritz recognized as Leone’s yelled, "We’re closed. We open at eleven am tomorrow."

"It’s Fritz Hardly!"

Leone unlocked the door. Fritz entered, but then Leone left the door unlocked. The place smelled of delicious food, but tinged on top of that was the smell of cleansers.

"Sorry, Fritz. When the lights are on, I constantly get people yanking at the door even though it’s after hours and the closed sign is out. You’d think customers couldn’t live through the night without food."

Fritz asked, "Are Christine and Vicky gone?"

Hearing Fritz, Christine poked her head out from a booth and announced, "We’re back here. Did you bring John?"

"You asked me not to."

Christine responded in a deliberately much too loud voice that somebody outside the door would have been able to hear, "I know what I asked, but that doesn’t answer my question. Is John slinking outside the door?"

Leone peered back at the still unlocked door as if this was just what he thought too and was why he hadn’t relocked it. John did not walk in.

Fritz stated, "The last I saw John, he was at our house. I took the only car. Buses don’t run this late. I suppose he could call a taxi, but he wouldn’t be here yet."

"I'm glad he’s not here," Vicky’s voice rang out. "I’m so angry I could just kill him!"

Fritz stiffened. Fritz came around the booth so he could see both girls. Vicky’s cheeks were wet from tears. Her eyes looked puffy. Christine herself looked pale and upset.

Fritz said sternly, "You shouldn’t threaten my brother!"

"I didn’t," Vicky said, then added as she puzzled out in her mind what Fritz meant, "Oh, that was just a figure of speech! I wouldn’t really hurt John! How could you think that?"

Vicky began crying silently, her cheeks getting even more wet.

Fritz thought about the many people over the past year, mostly Obliterator agents but there were many others too, who really had tried to kill him and his brother. Those experiences made it hard to take comments like Vicky’s in jest.

Leone spoke up, "The girls haven’t explained anything to me, but given how they look, I figured I shouldn’t kick them out even though they've been here over an hour and we closed half an hour ago. I’ll bet it involves one of your cases."

Fritz sat down next to Christine on the bench seat and said, "Sorry, Leone, but I think the girls and I should keep this private for now."

Leone scratched his head, "Why?"

"It's safer that way."

Leone boasted, "I’m not scared of danger. It's been a long time since I helped you guys with one of your cases, but I think I proved myself in the past."

Fritz said, "I know, Leone. I’m thinking of another person’s safety. A secret must be kept. The more people who know, even people I trust, the more likely it is to accidentally get out."

Leone replied, "Oh. Well, good thing Craig Peters isn’t involved in your cases anymore. He’s a great guy, but he kept secrets like a sieve holds water. Conrad Morrow sometimes had loose lips too, but Craig was in a class of his own.”

Christine put in, “I wonder if Craig would still be that way. He’s matured a great deal in college. Lost a lot of weight too. I wonder if his fiancee knows how big he used to be.”

Leone suggested, “Craig Peters should tell his weight loss secret to Conrad Morrow. Conrad’s bigger then ever. Well, I’ll be in the kitchen."

Once Leone was out of earshot, Christine hissed at Fritz, "Vicky said that she heard John and Officer McCormick saying that Ivana Morrow is still alive! Is that true?"

Fritz settled back in his chair, his brow wrinkled. Back in the kitchen, they could hear Leone scraping away on the grill. It was a rhythmic metal on metal sound, almost musical. Outside the restaurant, there were the sounds of traffic on the busy thoroughfare, even late at night. One car sounded unnaturally loud, as though it needed a new muffler. Fritz thought that loud engine reminded him of something, but he couldn’t think of what. He leaned back and the wooden bench creaked loudly.

In a reasoned, slightly condescending tone, Fritz finally said, "It’s been a few years since the explosion that destroyed the sedan. Don’t you think if Ivana were still alive that we’d have heard from her by now? Since we haven’t, I’d say that indicates she’s dead."

"You liar!" screamed Vicky, adding various imaginative insults to that.

The restaurant door opened unheard by the young people in the booth, the noise of the door drowned out by Vicky’s tirade. Finally, Vicky stopped yelling and sobbed.

Christine then said with certainty in her voice, "I’ve known you since grade school, Fritz. We’ve been dating for many years. I can tell when you are lying. I expected better from you."

Vicky seemed surprised by this support and her sobs quieted. Both girls glared at Fritz.

Fritz’s face was rigidly impassive as he calmly responded, "If alive, where has she been for the past few years?"

Vicky said, "I don’t know! I'm not a detective and never claimed to be one! I program computers, not solve crimes. I know what I heard, though. John said there was no body found after the explosion! There should have been one, shouldn’t there? That’s what John was saying at the hospital!"

"She was vaporized, that’s all," Fritz responded with false firmness. "It was an incredibly intense explosion. John kept trying to run into the flames. I guess he thought he was going to save her somehow, but it was too late. Ivana was vaporized, just as has been stated all along."

Christine asked as though not expecting an answer, "How hot an explosion would it have to be to leave no traces of a human body? I should have thought of that long ago, but never did until Vicky mentioned it today. You know, if Ivana is alive, I might be able to find her. Vicky may not know much about being a detective, but I’ve solved many cases with you and John ever since you stopped palling around with Craig and Conrad. I’ve learned from that."

Fritz turned from looking at Vicky to Christine, then his gaze abruptly went past Christine to a form of a man silhouetted in the door. The figure was fat like Gordon Snuff. Without taking time to think about it, Fritz leaped from the bench and dove at the figure.

The figure screamed, "Fritz, it’s me!"

Fritz already had too much momentum. He still tackled the big guy, but the scream caused Fritz to prevent from kicking him.

Leone raced out of the kitchen, a cleaver in his hand, "What’s going on?"

The man on the floor said in a voice with which they were all familiar, "Get off me, Fritz! You feel like you’ve gotten as heavy as me."

That was a gross exaggeration. Fritz was no bulkier than he’d been in years, while this man was bigger than last time Fritz saw him. Fritz hurriedly got up.

Leone could then see the man on the floor, "Conrad?"

Conrad Morrow got up, "Hi, Leone. I know it’s after hours, but I saw the light on."

Leone groaned humorously, "It figures, Conrad. I thought I heard the distinctive sound of your car."

"Yes, I’ve got glass packs on her instead of a regular muffler. She sounds great that way and has more power, but last week Officer McCormick gave me a ticket. He said my car was too loud. A ticket, not just a warning! I'm getting a regular muffler put on next week. I just hope I don’t run into McCormick before my appointment at the auto shop. Those tickets are expensive!"

Leone smiled, "Hasn’t stopped you from driving, I see. Conrad, I’m sure you want food, as you always do, but the ovens and grill are shut down already. Wait, I just remembered I've got some French bread left over if you want that. It’s still good, but has to go in the dumpster if not used. Health codes, you know."

Standing now, Conrad’s face and posture betrayed badly wounded pride, "You misjudge me, Leone! I was driving by when I noticed the lights were on. I saw your car, Christine’s parents’ car, and a strange car in the parking lot, even though you should be closed. I stopped to see if there was a problem. I know this place should be closed by now."

Leone sighed. He was well aware that Conrad knew exactly when this place closed.

"That last is my car," Fritz said. "A rental."

Conrad looked baffled, "Does John have the van?"

Leone shook his head, "Don’t you watch TV or listen to the radio, Conrad? I’ve been working here all day, but even I know. We have a radio in the kitchen."

"I've haven’t watched TV in over a week. I was also nowhere near a radio most of the day," Conrad said.

Christine put in, "We’ve heard all sorts of schemes and hobbies from you, Conrad. What’s taking all your time this time?"

"Horseback riding," Conrad responded.

Vicky’s voice came out sounding almost normal, "You’ve got a horse, Conrad?"

"A brown mare. I named her Suzy. We live on a farm, you know, so have room for one. My parents have discussed getting a horse for years. We’ve finally got one."

"I love horses," Vicky said. "Can I come see her? Please?"

Christine chimed in, "I’d like to come also!"

Conrad agreed, "Certainly. She’s a blast to ride. That's what I’ve been doing rather than watch TV. What did I miss?"

Leone said, "The Hardly's van blew up!"

"Again? I thought this van was a lot more heavily armored than the last van. It can’t blow up! It’s bulletproof," Conrad protested.

"It was obviously not bomb proof," Fritz countered.

Sudden concern was in Conrad’s face, "Where’s John? Is he okay?"

Fritz said, "He got a superficial cut in his back, but he’s okay after a couple stitches. He’s at home resting. The only person seriously injured was Gordon Snuff. He came through surgery fine. He is supposed to make a full recovery."

Conrad remarked, “There is a name I haven’t heard in years. That guy screwed up so many of our cases. Back when you brought me along on them, that is. Still, I’m glad he’ll get better.”

Leone said, "Fritz and the girls want to talk privately, Conrad. Why don’t you come back with me to the kitchen until they’re done?"

Conrad instead took a seat on the bench next to Vicky, "I need to talk to them too, Leone. All three of them. The bread sounds wonderful, but it will have to wait."

Leone shook his head at Conrad declining food, then walked away, still hanging onto the cleaver. He did make a slight detour and locked the outside door before continuing on to the kitchen.

With Leone gone, Conrad’s face darkened noticeably, "I heard what you were saying about my sister. There was no body or even body parts to bury."

Fritz said, "If alive, I’m sure Ivana would have contacted you by now, Conrad."

"Quit lying, Fritz," Conrad snapped. "When you do that, you seem like a different guy then the one I grew up with. My sister is not even dead legally!"

"What?" said Christine in shock. "There was a memorial service. I gave a speech!"

Conrad didn’t look at Christine or Vicky, but levelly and coldly at Fritz, "Christine, that was just a religious service, not carrying legal weight. Without a body, in this state, the requirement is a three year absence before a person can be legally declared dead. Ivana has crossed the thresh hold, but my parents have not put in a claim."

Fritz said, "I was told she was legally declared dead right after the van blew up."

Conrad solemnly remarked, "Although I enjoy riding Suzy, I've never been all that keen on having a horse."

Christine thought back and remarked, "You used to make fun of Ivana and me when we’d talk about horses."

"You two would talk about horses for hours," Conrad confirmed.

Christine inquired, "The horse isn't for you, is it? It’s for her."

Conrad confirmed, "It is how my parents are keeping from despairing. They bought the horse for Ivana, if she ever returns. I have been riding the horse daily, just as I said, though. Suzy is a lot of fun. I was wrong to tease you so much about horses."

Christine turned to Fritz, "You said Ivana was supposed to be legally declared dead. By whom?"

Fritz sat silently.

"I think I know who’s responsible," said Christine, then abruptly reached over and yanked the cell phone from Fritz's belt.

Fritz grabbed her wrist in a firm grip.

Christine didn’t flinch, but said, "Conrad’s right. Sometimes you seem like a different person, Fritz."

Fritz let her wrist go and said with genuine sorrow in his voice, "I’ve had to think of far greater concerns then just the feelings of my friends. Someday maybe you’ll understand."

Conrad asked bluntly, "Fritz, is my sister dead?"

Fritz said in a reluctant tone, "I’m required to tell you that she is."

The others looked at each other, none missing the awkward phrasing.

Christine pointed to an unusual looking button on the phone, "Tell us the truth or I’ll push this. I used this phone earlier when the van exploded."

Vicky said, "It's too late to be phoning anybody tonight."

Christine confidently responded, "I think Dr. Ruby or one of his fellow workers will answer this particular phone at any time of the day or night."

Conrad nervously noted, "I’ve heard cell phones aren’t secure. I'm not sure entirely what's going on with my sister, but using a cell phone to discuss it may be a bad idea. Fritz and John are into some very intense and dangerous stuff these days."

Christine said, "I know this phone has sophisticated encryption technology built in, so that’s not a problem. I'd prefer Fritz explain about Ivana himself. How about it, Fritz?"

"I’m under oath, Christine. I love you, but I just can’t," Fritz said with obvious distress.

Christine jabbed the special button on the phone. Despite the late hour, Dr. Ruby himself answered after only one ring. Christine began explaining the situation in great detail. Dr. Ruby listened for a long time. Fritz, Vicky, and Conrad sat at the table watching Christine talk into the phone.

Across town, John parked his motorcycle. He removed the bungee cord on the back and took off the packages. In one hand he took the briefcase with the fingerprint kit. In the other hand, he took the bag carrying the laptop computer. He had the visor up on his helmet, but didn't take it off. He felt a twinge in his back. He set down both objects. He touched his back with his right hand. Only then did he think that riding a motorcycle wasn't a good idea given his injury. He had been so focused that he had not even felt anything at all in his back until now. Moving a little stiffly, he took up his two bags.

He noticed a yellow car in the parking lot. He looked on his hand where the license number was still faintly visible. It was a perfect match to the plates on the car. John turned away from the car. He entered the motel.

In front of the main desk was a lobby with some overstuffed chairs with tall backs and overly ornate but chipped, stained, and battered tables. Seated near one table was a man with long black hair. He wore a leather coat. John wished he had a coat like that. His own coat was of fabric. He had felt the wind rip right through it as he had driven the motorcycle tonight. John recognized this man as the one he had seen placing the bomb in the van.

The man said to someone in another chair, "Karen, why were you at that pay phone?"

John couldn’t see who was in the other chair because of the tall chair back, but the voice sent a shiver up his spine. The shiver made the cut in his back throb. In his chest, his heart throbbed too and he found it hard to breathe.

The familiar female voice said, "I was acting under Tomlin's orders, Jason. I was to check out your progress, then privately report back to him. He ordered me not to use any phone in the motel because he is worried that Entangle might already be keeping tabs on you. The phones here in the motel might already be bugged. If it’s any comfort, I told Tomlin that you two were doing things properly. It’s just that the Hardly Boys are so highly trained and skilled that even plans by the best Obliterators can go astray."

Jason relaxed, "You told Tomlin that? Thanks, Karen."

Karen said, "What’s holding Joyce up?"

Jason claimed, "It’s your plan that’s taking so long! She’ll certainly kill the boys this time!"

John thought he heard regret in the woman’s voice, "It might work."

Jason turned in his chair and spied John, "Hey, you! Yes, you! The dork in the helmet! What’re you looking at?"

The woman called Karen leaned forward from her chair. John could see her plainly. Her hair was bright red rather than it’s natural color. Her face had gotten gaunt. It was a face that betrayed great stress for an extended time. John thought of all the times he’d kissed that face, the face of Ivana Morrow. Unlike before the explosion a few years ago, her face no longer looked naive, but indicated a strong wisdom to match her keen intelligence.

He could see that, despite his helmet, she instantly recognized him. Ivana was fighting to keep control, as was he. He wanted to run and grab her. Touch her and feel that she was real and not a ghost, as though only touch would offer definitive proof. He had a thousand questions to ask her and a thousand things he wanted to say. Just looking at her, John could feel his face blush. Ivana had always had that affect on him. Vicky was nice, but he had never blushed whenever she looked at him, as happened whenever Ivana did.

Jason laughed menacingly as he stood from his chair, "What a coward! Look at his face, Karen! I threaten him and he turns red as a beet! I’m going to beat this spineless coward to a pulp!"