Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

As Frank drove the couple of blocks to his house, his mind was racing, driven by how close Will had come to succeeding in this fiendish plan. He had already replaced Joe, and except for a sense of something not being right, it had not even occurred to Frank that it might not have been Joe – not yet, anyway.

How long would it have taken him to realize that he had a faux Joe? Probably not very long, but by then William would have had time to finish his games and kill his brother. Shuddering at that thought, Frank pressed a little harder on the accelerator in his hurry to talk to his father.

If they timed this right, they could take care of the threat once and for all…before most people would have even eaten their Sunday morning breakfasts, and before Will was even out of bed!

His first thought had been to call his father, but he was afraid he’d waste time they didn’t have if Fenton was worried that the story was being coerced from Frank by William. So, the older boy figured, it’s just a five minute drive – he’d grab his father and they could be back at Biff’s house, fifteen minutes tops….Okay, 20 if his Dad was in the shower….

* * *

A police officer was kneeling down halfway in Sherlock’s house by the time Biff got to him. But before he could say anything, the cop came out, his face taunt and grim. “There’s a knife in here.”

Biff’s eyebrows shot up in shock, and then he could have kicked himself. Frank had told him ‘Will’ had a knife, but in the earlier commotion with Joe it had never even occurred to either of them to ask what Joe had done with it.

Obviously he had left it in the house when Biff told him to come out.

Good thing too, Biff thought, even as the officer turned towards him to ask him what he knew about the knife and William Doe, because if I’d seen that knife, things would have gone worse than they did!

Even as the teenager denied knowing anything about the knife – which wasn’t entirely incorrect, as he didn’t know it was there – the police dog tracked Joe’s scent to the patio door and began barking.

The cop spoke to him, his voice tinged in sarcasm, as he really didn’t believe this kid’s story. “So I don’t suppose you know how the perpetrator’s trail leads right into your house either, do you?”

Biff shrugged. “How should I know? The only guest that I’ve had this morning was my best friend, Joe. And he ain’t William Doe.”

* * *

Sam Radley greeted his best friend and partner with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He knew how serious this situation was.

“Fenton,” he shook the other detective’s hand.

“Sam, I’m so glad you could make it,” Fenton said sincerely. The detective team of Hardy and Radley were a fierce duo, and he was sure that between the two of them they would track down William.

They had no choice.

“Joe’s in a safe-house?” Sam confirmed as he got into Fenton’s car, and the other man nodded his head:

“Yeah. He’s staying with Con Riley under his protection.”

Sam nodded. “Makes good sense. We don’t want another problem like what happened in the bus station. I can’t believe Doe would be so bold as to hijack a car and go right to your house, though. Doesn’t fit in with his usual M.O.”

“I know,” Fenton agreed, pulling out of the parking lot and heading back to town, “and that’s bothering me. Something about this just doesn’t feel right.”

“Is it possible that Will’s already posing as Joe?” Sam asked, watching his partner carefully, as he knew the implication would be painful. Fenton had never picked up on the horrendous abuse going on in his own home two years ago, and in the end had been completely fooled by William in every respect. It almost cost him both his sons.

Fenton paused before answering, his voice reflecting the deep pain he still felt about the past. “You know, Sam, I’ve been asking myself that same question since I saw Joe in the hospital room. I mean, it’s horrible, but I found myself looking at Joe and being plagued with doubt.”

“I don’t think that’s so horrible,” Sam commented, “I think it’s a conflict between your instincts as a father and as an investigator. You see Joe, but at the same time you know it could just as easily be William. What are Frank’s feelings on this? He knows Joe better than anyone.”

“Actually,” admitted the other sleuth, “I haven’t had a chance to talk to Frank about it. He dropped Joe off at the precinct yesterday, but then he stayed at Biff’s last night. Except for telling him about the incident at the house, I haven’t spoken to him since.”

He started to hit the autodial on his cell phone, but then looked at the time – seven a.m. – it was too early to call. Frank and Biff would still be sound asleep….

“I’ll give him a call in an hour or so,” Fenton said, his mind already mulling over what his partner said – was it possible that Will had already done something with Joe and was right now posing as his brother??

His expression turned grim as he realized it was.

* * *

Dr. Greenland was just coming off a double shift when he saw an old friend – Dr. Bates.

“Hey John,” he greeted the older man, and then he said casually, “You’re the family doctor for Fenton Hardy’s family, aren’t you?”

“Hello Bert,” Dr. Bates said, and then continued, “As a matter of fact, I am. That family helps keep me in practice,” he teased lightly, and the other doctor chuckled before saying offhandedly:

“Their younger boy, Joe, was in here yesterday. Some guys worked him over…he’s okay,” Dr. Greenland rushed to assure the older man when he saw the look of concern crease his forehead, “minor concussion, bruises, a few cuts, that sort of thing. But I was amazed at how fortunate he is.”

“Really?” the other man said, confused, “In what way?”

“Well, I treated him two years ago for second-degree burns on his back, amongst other things;” he didn’t need to go into detail, as the look on Dr. Bates’ face told him he remembered exactly the extent of the injuries, “and when I treated him yesterday, I was amazed that his back had healed so nicely.”

“Oh yeah,” Dr. Bates said, nodding his head. “Well, young Joseph seems to be endowed with the privilege of not scarring very easily. A good thing actually given his penchant for difficulty.”

“No kidding,” Dr. Greenland agreed, even as he pressed, “But still, I figured he’d have a couple of scars at least. Some of those burns were pretty damn near third-degree.”

Dr. Bates looked at him oddly before saying slowly, “Bert. Joe does have scars on his lower back. Not as bad as they could have been. But he does have a couple of very distinct ones.”

The other doctor’s features darkened, and barely managing to excuse himself from the confused older man, he hurried towards Patient Records. He had a creeping suspicion that needed to be checked out.

If he was right, then the blond-haired kid he had treated in the ER was not Joe Hardy, but his identical twin – William Doe.

* * *

“Dad! Dad, you home?” Frank yelled out as soon as he got into the house, but the only sound he heard was the steady ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall. Taking the stairs by twos, he hurriedly checked out his parents’ room and the shower.

Crap, he said, where’d he go at this hour in the morning?

And then his cell phone rang, and a few moments later, Frank was hurrying back to his van. Crap being the nicest word in his vocabulary!

Joe had ‘borrowed’ Biff’s car and taken off. And Frank had a harrowing suspicion that he knew exactly where his brother was going – Con’s.

As he jumped into the driver’s seat, he was already dialing his father’s cell phone number. He had to know!

* * *

“I’m so sorry, Frank!” Biff said, as he hopped into the passenger seat of the van just as it screeched to a stop in front of his house, “But he took off while the police were here.”

“The police? Where are they now?” Frank demanded, pulling away from the curb.

“Searching my house,” Biff grinned. “They’re going to be pissed when they find out I’ve left.”

“They’ll just have to get over it,” Frank growled, “They’re wasting their time hunting Joe while a psycho is sleeping right under their noses!”

“Want me to call Con and give him a heads up?” Biff offered, already pulling out his own phone. In the few minutes that Frank had been gone, Biff had gotten dressed and grabbed his phone, once he realized Joe had flown the coop.

“Yeah, tell him Joe’s on his way to his house and not to shoot him or anything,” Frank said grimly, already picturing what could happen if Con thought he had to protect William from Joe!

Biff dialed the number and then looked at Frank with growing worry. “Frank! It’s busy!”

“Shit,” Frank said as he took a turn a bit tight and the wheels squealed. “Keep trying!”

It was twenty minutes later when Frank came to a rocking halt behind Biff’s car, outside Con’s house. The first thing he noticed was that Con’s SUV wasn’t in the driveway, and he got a very bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Con?” Biff stood behind Frank as the dark-haired boy first pressed the doorbell, then knocked on the door, and then pounded, after no one answered the buzzer. “Con, its me, Frank Hardy!”

Still no answer.

Trying the doorknob, Frank was surprised to find it unlocked. His heart racing, he placed his fingers on his lips to warn Biff to be quiet as he cautiously pushed open the door and then stepped inside.

The house was quiet except for the annoying sound of a phone off the hook!

“Con?” Frank called out, “Con? It’s Frank. Are you home?”

And then the sound of something scratching on the floor drew the boys’ attention to the kitchen.

Pushing open the door, Frank stood frozen in shock!

Officer Conrad Riley was lying in the middle of the floor…in a rapidly spreading pool of blood!