Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

"Give us a few minutes, Dad," said Joe. "We'll be ready." Joe waited until everyone had left Frank’s room and then grabbed his brother’s arm and dragged him into his room. Joe grabbed his school backpack and dumped the contents on his bed. He opened the top drawer of his dresser, stuffed a few articles of clothing in the backpack. "Do you realize what this means? Some Mafia dude hired Slade."

Frank gazed at the books and notebooks, loose ink pens and two broken pencils now scattered on the bed. "You don't have homework, do you?"

"As if I'd do it now. Frank, did you hear me?"

"Yes, I heard. But Slade's in custody."

Joe shoved the first drawer closed and opened the second drawer. "Yeah, but obviously the Mafia dude wasn't happy and hired somebody else."

"We're probably only staying one night," said Frank as he watched his brother close the second drawer and open the bottom one.

"Keep your mind on the subject – Morales."

"Hit man – friends with Mafia man's daughter."

Joe finally zipped up the bulging backpack. "Right. Think there's something to that?"

Frank frowned. "I don’t know, maybe trying to prove himself worthy of daughter's affection? Don't forget your toothbrush."

"Why don't you go pack for yourself, Frank? I've been packing my own bags for years."

Frank started to tell his brother that their mother actually checked Joe's bag to make sure he had everything, but changed his mind. "Fine." He went into his own room and got out his duffle bag. In a matter of five minutes, he had two full changes of clothes and assorted toiletries packed. He darted into the bathroom to find his brother grabbing his own toothbrush.

Joe shot him a glare. "Don't even think it."

Frank got his toothbrush and shook his head. Once everything was packed, he hefted the duffle bag and walked back into his brother's room. "Ready?"

Joe glanced at the bullet in the doorframe. "Think Dad will leave it there? I mean, I've never been targeted by the Mafia before."

Frank stared at his brother and groaned. "Let's go."

***

Two hours later, the brothers were settling into a double-occupancy room at Bayport Inn. Their parents were next door and there was a door that led between the rooms. Joe had already locked it and unlocked it twice, unsure if he did lock it, whether or not their parents would be angry about it. He started to get up and lock it again.

"Stop that. You don't often lock your door at home."

"When Mom's in her I-must-clean house mode, I do."

Frank rolled his eyes and stared at the blank television screen. "You know, I don't like this."

"Somehow I'm not surprised." Joe stretched out across the bed and stared up at the ceiling. "You're not exactly the patient type."

Frank grabbed one of the hotel pillows and threw it at his brother. "Me? What about you?"

"I am very patient; when I need to be." Joe threw the pillow right back.

"I want to turn the tables on the hit man. Chase him down."

Joe levered himself up on one elbow. "Okay. Um, you want to do this to avoid telling Dad the truth? Or do you want to do this because somehow through some mystifying alien technology we've switched bodies and..." Joe's voice trailed off and he shook his head. "Never mind."

"I don't want to have to look over my shoulder for the rest of my life."

"We always look over our shoulders."

Frank wasn't sure if his brother was just being sarcastic or had taken him too literally. "Joe."

In a sudden quick move, Joe rolled onto his side, swung his legs around and in less than a minute he was sitting up. He stood up and strode to the connecting door. He put his ear to it and went still. Then he turned and started for their door – the one that opened out onto the second floor corridor. "Come on."

Frank frowned as Joe opened the door. He half-expected to see Sheridan standing outside to keep an eye on them but the hallway was completely empty. Joe took a quick look and stepped out of the room. "Come on."

Frank followed his brother to the back stairs that led to the kitchen, and what the staff used when doing room service. At the foot of the stairs, Joe led the way toward the back of the inn, where supplies were usually delivered. In a matter of moments, they were outside in the cold November air.

"You know, if I was your parent, I think I'd worry."

Joe shrugged. He'd insisted that Frank keep his jacket close at hand when they'd gone to their room. Now he was glad he'd taken his own advice. "So who do we call?"

Frank watched his brother stride across the parking lot and ran to catch up. "Call?"

"We're without wheels. I know it's only a few miles, but walking is always slower than driving." Joe gestured to the payphone he'd been heading for. "So?"

Frank frowned. "Not Vanessa and not Callie. When Mom and Dad find us missing, they'll talk to them first."

"Then it can't be any of our friends." He thought for a moment. "Slade."

Frank shook his head. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not? Who else would we call?"

There was a rumble in the street behind them. Joe glanced over his shoulder and sighed. "Well, what do you know – it does work."

Frank turned to see a black van with orange and yellow flames along the fenders. A slim redhead got out of the driver's seat. "Leigh kept bugging me that you wanted to talk to me."

Joe grinned and Frank got a very suspicious look on his face. "Joe..."

"We were wondering if we could bunk at your place. The exterminator's fumigating our place," said Joe.

Merlyn Slade studied Joe for a moment and looked at Frank. "You're not even a block from Bayport Inn. What's wrong with that?"

"Very long story. I'll tell you every sordid detail on the way to your house," countered Joe, smiling at her.

Merlyn looked from Joe to Frank and back to Joe. "Okay." She turned to get back into the van.

Frank punched his brother in the arm. "That's for your idiotic idea."

"Frank, they're nice people – a little on the weird side, but nice."

Frank just groaned. He spared a longing glance for the Bayport Inn and got into the van with his brother. He just knew he was going to regret this.

Let the author know what you think of this story

Home Library Authors Rogue's Gallery Vehicles Chums Message Board Rap Sheet Links Contact

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.