Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

The two men went to a nearby café and took seats near the back, where they could have a little privacy. The detective listened carefully as his companion explained his situation, playing nervously with a napkin.

‘Let me get this straight,’ Fenton asked, never taking his eyes of him, ‘you think you’ll be able to pay them, and it’s protecting your family you want help with?’

‘Well…they said not to go to the police, and I - I've already delayed, and I think they're getting the idea that they're not getting it.’

‘And they want $500.’

The detective rested his chin on his hand and thought for a moment. He didn’t want to ask the question, for he was obviously fairly wealthy, but… ‘Tell me the truth,’ he requested, ‘how would you get the money?’

‘Legally,’ his client answered earnestly, ‘that’s not a problem. In fact, I saw your reaction when you heard the sum, and you’re right,’ he admitted sheepishly, ‘maybe I should have explained myself more clearly.’

***

‘You hungry?’ Frank asked, getting up as his brother set up his laptop and connected to the internet.

‘No.’ Joe murmured, typing rapidly and ignoring him.

‘Oh. Okay,’ the older boy said awkwardly; his brother never passed on an offer for food; that was his trademark. He must be serious. That’s probably more likely to be a good thing though, right? I’m not losing a brother. It’s not the end of the world; dad’s still my father, and he’s a detective.

He was sidetracked on the way to the kitchen by the telephone ringing.

‘Hello?’

‘Hey Frank, it’s dad. I’m going to be delayed for a while and I probably won’t be back for dinner, so you and Joe will have to arrange something yourselves, okay?’

‘Okay. New case?’

‘You could say that,’ the man answered with a hint of amusement in his voice. ‘I’ll see you later.’

‘Bye. Joe, dad’s not coming home till late,’ he called, ‘what do you want for dinner?’

‘Pizza! How often do we get this kind of opportunity?’

Some things never change, the dark haired boy thought with a smile as he picked up the phone again.

He heard the sound of a new email being received as he walked back into the sitting room.

‘Hey, look,’ Joe called his brother over after he had read it.

‘What is it?’ he asked, moving to sit beside him and look at the screen.

The message was from Mark, and read ‘To: Bayport high students. I have just heard from a reliable source that Georgina took the money. I'll be waiting to see which of you is stupid enough to tell.'

Joe smiled ruefully. ‘Quick end to my first case, huh? She just confessed!’

‘He didn't say that,' Frank reasoned, rereading the strange challenge. You kinda want them to confess,’ he explained, ‘But you also have to actually get the money back, don’t you?’

‘Oh yeah,’ Joe brightened, ‘you’re right. And this could be fake; I mean…it's a weird message, especially from someone like Mark. Why would he care about trying to protect her? And, well...George?’

‘She has been acting differently lately.’ The dark haired boy reminded him dubiously.

‘Well, maybe, but…she wouldn’t. She can’t. Can she?’

‘That’s up to you to find out,’ Frank told him, clapping him on the back, ‘detective.’

‘Yeah, detective.’

***

Mark sat back in the swing and pushed it a little. He stared up at the dark sky, thinking about what he had learned from the girl, who had made a hasty excuse to leave after he had kissed her.

He frowned as he focused his thoughts back on their conversation. It didn’t make sense; how would such a respectable lawyer – Georgina’s father, no less – get into that kind of mess? The boy had already known about it, and hadn’t told his classmate because he didn’t want to worry her, and also because he was hoping he had gotten it wrong.

Mark knew the blackmailer was trying to persuade the lawyer to lose his current case, and keep him out of jail, the deal being that as long as he didn’t go to jail, his family would be safe, but the money…where did that come into it?

He kissed me. He kissed me. He kissed…me. Mark Elms kissed Me. HE KISSED ME! She yelled it in her head, but wasn’t stupid enough to give in to impulse and scream it in the middle of the street as she skipped home.

That was the only thought that possessed her mind; her body was on auto pilot, and she didn’t even notice the chilly evening air. Her lips were still tingling from the kiss – her first ‘boy’ kiss. Who would have imagined that someone like him could like me?

Unfortunately, she also hadn’t noticed the dark vehicle that had started following her when she left her friend’s house.

***

‘Would you mind if I walked you home, or called a taxi?’ Mr. Hardy asked as they prepared to leave the café, ‘I’d rather you didn’t walk alone.’

‘Uh…it’s not far from here, but don’t you-’ his client flustered awkwardly.

‘It’s not a problem. Come on, let’s go.’

‘Tell me about your daughter,’ the detective requested as they walked out, quickly pulling their coats closed against the unexpectedly cold air.

‘What do you need to know?’

Fenton shrugged. ‘I have a couple of sons of my own.’ he responded, trying to draw him into a more light conversation.

‘Yes, I know, Frank and…Joe, isn’t it?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Well, Georgina – she likes to be called George – she’s seventeen… she’s a nice kid, always ready to help people. She’s a good student – actually, my wife’s a teacher at the school – and she's always cheerful, although-’ he stopped abruptly.

‘What?’

‘I think-’ he began.

Screeching brakes stopped him in mid sentence, followed by a scream. They glanced at each other, and then raced down the street and around the corner toward the sound.

‘Freeze!’ Fenton yelled, instinctively pulling out his gun.

‘Come any closer and I’ll shoot her,’ the kidnapper warned, turning away from the car and pulling the girl closer to him, his left arm wrapped tightly round her neck as he pulled out his own weapon with his other hand. ‘Drop the gun.’

Fenton hesitated. It was too dark to risk a shot, and he didn’t want to hit the girl by accident. The black ski mask and gloves the gunman were wearing made him like a shadow; something that was there but barely visible. He lowered his gun.

‘George!’ Mr. Castelle exclaimed, squinting at the victim and recognizing his pale faced daughter.

There was the sound of metal falling on to the ground, and he turned on the detective. ‘What are you doing?’ he demanded.

‘Being smart,’ the kidnapper told him.

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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.