Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

Frank Hardy studied the man behind the wheel of the car. He was dark-haired and intense. Obviously this was Morales, he thought. He glanced to his left to see Joe tense and ready to do something – something probably dangerous. "Who are you?" asked Frank.

"Not now," growled the driver. He glanced almost nervously into first the rear view mirror, and then the side-view mirror.

Frank glanced carefully over his shoulder and saw a car gaining on them. Was it a rescue party or some speed demon anxious to pass them?

The driver let go of the wheel with one hand, grabbed the gun on the seat next to him and pointed it toward the back seat. Frank ducked to one side, thinking the man was going to shoot them now.

Joe shifted to his left and down into the foot well of the backseat. He reached up and yanked on the man's arm, just as the driver's finger tightened on the trigger. The gunshot sounded loud in the enclosed space of the car. The bullet punched a hole in the back windshield, letting in cold air and noise.

The force on his arm made the driver shift, automatically turning the wheel to the right. The car hit the embankment and nose-dived into a ditch. Frank saw it coming and grabbed the headrest to keep from slamming into the seat in front of him. Joe was wedged behind the driver's seat and was only jostled.

The driver jerked against the steering wheel, and then was slammed back against the seat as the airbag deployed. The driver's hand spasmed and the gun fell onto the backseat.

In the sudden silence, Frank took a deep breath and looked at Joe. "Are you okay?"

Joe nodded. He levered himself back onto the seat as the airbag deflated. "What about him?"

The man was moaning, looking as if he were in pain. Frank frowned. "Airbag could have fractured something."

"Can I just say that I don't really care?"

Frank glanced out the shattered back windshield to see headlights stopping right behind them. He nodded to Joe. "Can you get out?"

Joe shifted around and opened the door. "Yeah." He got out of the car and took a deep breath. His eyes zeroed in on the old large tree. "Man, six inches the other way and we would have slammed into that monstrosity."

Frank got out of the car and saw what his brother was taking about. "Whew."

"Hey, you okay," called a familiar voice.

Joe and Frank shared a surprised look. Joe grinned. "See, I told they were nice."

Frank rolled his eyes and followed his brother up the side of the ditch. A strong hand helped him up and he looked up to see Dyllan glaring at him. "You know, I could be sleeping but no, Grams had to wake me up."

Frank remembered the ghost in school, and the cold spot in the kitchen. "Your grandmother really is a ghost?"

"You say that like you've never met one," countered Dyllan. "Is the driver dead?" he added, sounding almost hopeful.

A big white truck screeched to a halt beside the dark four-door sedan. The driver’s hard gaze skimmed over the four teenagers, zeroing in on Frank and Joe. "Of all the idiotic things—”

Joe stepped right up to him. "You are not our father. We'll take that from him. Not you."

Sheridan studied him for a long moment. "I've finally figured it out. My God, I know why you irritate the hell out of me."

"He does it to you, too?" asked Dyllan, suitably distracted

Merlyn punched his arm – hard. "Shut up."

"Jordan Sattler. You even look like him, except he has green eyes." Sheridan shook his head and skidded down the side of the ditch.

"And I'm supposed to know who that is?" asked Joe.

"Rich kid from Sag Harbor," muttered Sheridan, peering into the driver's window. "He and his cousin and his girl friend kept getting in the way in Bridgetown." Sheridan shook his head. "Between him and that newlywed couple, things went downhill from there." Suddenly, Sheridan whipped his head around and glared at Joe. "Your name. It's Joe. Oh damn."

Joe looked at Frank, puzzled. "Something wrong with my name?"

"The newlywed couple. The guy's name was Joe, too." Sheridan sighed. "Got involved in the case and this idiot thought he was Leiker,” Sheridan added, gesturing to the driver.

Frank frowned. "Okay, I'm confused. You mind slowing down and explaining?"

Sheridan shook his head. "Not here. Anyone got a cell phone?"

Leigh held up hers. "Here."

Quinn sighed. "Not surprised there."

Sheridan took the cell phone and called the police and an ambulance. He looked at Dyllan. "Get them back to that castle. Their parents are there."

Dyllan nodded, looking sullen. He shot Merlyn a glare but got back into the car. Merlyn gave him a glare right back and got into the front seat. "Come on, Leigh, you can sit up here."

"Yeah, leave me back here with the boys," said Quinn, not sounding the least bit upset. "One on either side," she added, patting the seat on either side of her.

Joe got in one side, Frank got in on the other. Quinn promptly put an arm around their shoulders. "I'm definitely liking this," she said settling in for the ride. Joe shared an amused look with his brother and settled back as well. Frank wasn't so amused. Now they had to face their parents.

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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.