Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

Joe growled low in his throat but didn't say anything else. He pulled into the driveway and skidded to a halt, flinging gravel out behind him. He and Frank both could see that every light was on in the house. "I don't see why she couldn't have waited until tomorrow. We could have come with her – and it would have been daylight."

"Joe."

"Fine, I won't jump her. Not for the first five minutes anyway." Joe got out of the van and headed for the front door.

Frank rolled his eyes and got out as well. He followed Joe to the front door just in time to see Joe push the door inward. He shared a worried look with Joe and they both burst into the house.

"Vanessa," yelled Joe, glancing around. "Vanessa!"

Frank didn't like the fact that there was no response. "I'll check down here. You go upstairs."

Joe gave a jerky nod and took the stairs two at a time. He burst into Vanessa's room and froze. Two roses were on the bed, one red, one white, crossed at the stems. Other than that, there was no one in Vanessa's room.

Joe spun on his heel and checked the other upstairs rooms and felt his heart sink. Vanessa wasn't here. Slowly, he forced himself to go downstairs. Frank was waiting for him in the foyer. "She's not down here."

Joe shivered. "He's got her."

Frank placed a hand on Joe's arm. "Don't do anything crazy."

Joe shook his brother's hand off. "He's got her. I couldn't—" His face went white and he swallowed hard. "I couldn't save Iola," he said in a tortured voice barely above a whisper. "I have to save Vanessa." He stalked out of the house and headed for the van.

Frank stood there for a moment and then shivered. Damn James, he thought almost savagely, and followed his brother out of the house. Then he stopped on the porch. The van was gone. "Oh hell," muttered Frank. "Now I'm stuck out here." He narrowed his eyes as his gaze drifted to where Vanessa's car sat, covered with a tarp. "Hmm, maybe not."

Frank had been out to the farmhouse with his friends enough to know that Vanessa's mother Andrea kept an extra key for both her car and Vanessa's. He walked back into the house and headed for the kitchen. He strode across the tiled floor of the kitchen and opened the door of the pantry where the keyhooks were. He grabbed what he thought was the key to Vanessa's red Maserati and headed back outside.

He pulled off the tarp and tried the key, relieved he'd gotten it on the first try. Getting the engine revved up took a little more time. He had no idea how long the car had sat in the cold, without running.

Finally, he got into the driver's seat and then realized it was a manual transmission. "Oh Lord," muttered Frank. "I haven't driven a stick in I don't know when."

With a sigh, he shifted gears and left the driveway. There was only one place Joe could possibly be going. Frank hoped he'd get there before his brother got himself killed.

***

Joe was on the parkway when he realized he probably should have waited for Frank to join him. He clenched the steering wheel tighter and shook his head. No, he had to do this. Joe took a deep breath. Damn it, he did understand why Vanessa had gone back to her house alone. He understood only too well and now he hoped that Frank would understand why he had to do this alone.

He took the exit and headed toward the hotel-sized mansion James lived in. Security be damned, he was getting in there, if he had to ram the gate with the van. He didn't do that, instead, he drove by the huge mansion, craning his neck to see as much as he could. He drove on past and at the first side street, he turned and braked to a halt.

Joe slowly unclenched his hands from the steering wheel and wondered that there weren't indentions in the plastic from his gripping it so tightly. He took a deep breath and felt a chill work down his spine. He turned to look at the empty passenger seat and wished he'd not left his brother. He wasn't sure he could break into that place all alone.

Joe got out of the van and closed the door as quietly as he could. He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jacket and started walking back toward the mansion. When he saw the brick wall with the wrought iron, he stopped and studied the wall for a long moment. He felt a breeze as a vivid red car swept past him. He heard a screech of tires and then the car backed up.

Joe frowned and turned around as the driver maneuvered the vehicle on the side of the road. Odd, that looked like Vanessa's car. A moment later, the driver got out and Joe let out a sigh of relief. "Frank."

"You know I ought to kick your butt from here to Barmet Bay for stranding me."

"Hello to you too."

"Joe—" Frank took a deep breath and looked up and down the road. He sighed, grabbed Joe by the shoulder and steered him away from the wall. "What the hell do you think you're doing? You can't break into that," he added, gesturing to the mansion.

"Vanessa's in there."

"You don't know that for sure."

"Damn it, Frank, help me or get the hell out of the way."

Frank glanced once again up and down the road and then pushed Joe toward the corner of the brick wall. "Well, trying to ram through the front door wouldn't be too smart, now would it? Let's head around back."

"Thanks, Frank."

"Well, we'll have plenty of time to regret this when we get arrested but what the hell, you only live once."

Before Joe could respond, they both heard a tinny-sounding ring. Frank's hand went to his pocket. "You know who it is."

"Don't answer."

"If I don't answer, he'll send in the marines and the cavalry."

Joe stood there for a long moment, torn between barging in and openly defying his father. "Fine. Answer it, tell him we're staying with Vanessa for awhile. Or that we took her out to eat to calm her down – something, just not exactly what we're doing."

Frank reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. "Hello?"

***

"Frank," said Fenton into the cordless phone. "Where are you?...Well, why didn't you just come home? Your mother waited supper for thirty minutes."

Fenton paced from his desk to his office door and back again as his oldest son explained. "Frank, let me talk to Vanessa....I see. And Joe?...All right, when can I expect you back?...I see. Yes, good bye then."

Fenton resisted the temptation to fling the receiver across the room. He had a hunch his sons were up to something far different than taking Vanessa out to eat – and a hell of a lot more dangerous. Fenton hung up the phone and strode out of his office.

"Fenton?" Laura looked up from her cross-stitch project and frowned. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything is fine, Laura. " Fenton paused long enough to give her a quick kiss and started for the front door. "I'm going down to talk to Ezra, just discuss this case. I'll be back later."

He grabbed his coat and left the house. Laura let the cross-stitch fall to her lap. She looked at Gertrude who was watching quietly. Laura took a deep breath and picked up her project. "I'm fine, Gertrude."

Gertrude's long slender hands paused in their knitting and the blue metal needles clinked together. "Of course, Laura."

Laura stared down at her cross-stitch, just barely started – it had been a gift from Frank only days ago. She felt a single tear slip down her cheek and plop onto her hand. She took a deep breath, ignored the tear and continued working – and yet her heart ached inside.

***

Ezra Collig looked up from his desk in surprise. "Fenton, what are you doing here?"

"I need some information on Byron James."

Ezra frowned. "Fenton, you're a little too close to this. I—"

"Why don't I tell you what my sons are doing at the moment? I believe they're about to confront James in his home. Vanessa's at the moment missing." Fenton didn't add that he'd located her at her home only fifteen minutes ago but for his sons to dodge him, something had obviously happened.

Ezra's scowl deepened. "I already sent Sheridan to nudge them away from there. James could lodge a perfectly legal case of harassment."

"Exactly."

Ezra shook his head. "Fenton, what are you doing? Do you want me to arrest your sons to keep them out of harm's way? Do you want to disregard a private citizen's legal rights to appease your conscience?"

Fenton resisted the temptation to kick the desk. It would've been woefully immature but it would have felt damn good. "Ezra, my sons have been loose cannons before usually when it involves family or friends but—"

Ezra sat back in his chair. "But if they mess things up with James, they could leave the door wide open for James to get Vanessa for good. Yes, that thought has crossed my mind. There is another way."

Fenton looked at Ezra. "What?"

"We bait him."

"No. Hell no." Fenton shook his head. "Vanessa may not be my daughter but I think I can pinch hit for Andrea and say there's no way I'd let Vanessa be used as bait."

"Vanessa's what, seventeen?"

Fenton shook his head again, more emphatically. "Ezra, no."

"She's nearly an adult, Fenton, and this sure as hell concerns her. I think she should be able to speak for herself."

Fenton stood in Ezra's office and just stared at the man, hating the fact that police chief was right. "The least you could do is contact her mother," he said in a brittle voice.

Ezra nodded. "All right, where is she? I'll talk to her. But it's still, in the end, Vanessa's decision."

Fenton grunted. "Last I heard, Andrea's in Manhattan ."

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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.