Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

Vanessa shook her head. "You sound like Dalton in Road House, Frank, when he's telling the bouncers to be nice no matter what happens – until there's a time to not be nice."

Callie rolled her eyes. "That's probably where he got his inspiration."

Vanessa thought it over. "Oh my God, yeah. Oh my God, I'm dating the wrong brother."

Joe jumped. "What?" he nearly shouted, sounding quite scandalized.

"If you ever saw the actor in Ghost, you'd really get the eeriness. Oh, and Dirty Dancing, when the guy was younger," said Callie with a laugh.

Frank felt his cheeks grow warm and knew he was blushing. "I don't look a thing like Patrick Swayze."

Callie snuggled closer. "Sez you, but you're all mine."

Feeling a little calmer, Joe took a deep breath. "So who do I look like?"

Vanessa studied him for a moment and shook her head. "I have no idea." Then she grinned and winked at Callie.

Callie laughed. "You don't look like any hot movie star, Joe, sorry."

"Excuse me?" Joe sounded outraged. "He looks like Patrick Swayze, but—”

"I do not look like him," said Frank.

"I don't look like anybody?" continued Joe, as if Frank hadn't even spoken. "I know I've got to look like someone."

Vanessa thought for a long moment. "Well..."

"Ah-ha! Who is it?"

Vanessa shrugged. "You won't like it."

Joe looked at her. "Huh? I look like a movie star, what's not to like?"

Callie smirked. "He's not a movie star, actually. He's more of an adventure star. He likes to plunge in where no sane person has gone before."

Joe gave her a look. "Is that supposed to be a clue?"

Frank tried not to laugh. "I think they're saying you look like Steve Irwin."

Joe stared at his brother. "He – I – What?"

Vanessa laughed. "No, seriously, I can't think of anyone."

Callie lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "Neither can I. Frank?"

"I don't really make it a habit of trying to see what movie star my brother looks like." Frank balled up his napkin and tossed it on the now empty pizza pan. "I do know there was the time, Joe was famous for looking like someone, though."

Joe groaned. "Do you have to bring that up?"

Both girls turned to Frank. "Who?" asked Vanessa, excitedly.

Joe grunted. "He was a crook – looked younger than his years so everyone called him The Kid."

Callie laughed. "That's perfect. I love it."

Vanessa grinned. "The Kid, has a nice ring to it."

Joe grunted. "Ha, ha. Can we go now? If I have to get up at the crack of dawn – no, before dawn on Friday, I have to go to bed early."

"Don't you dare kid me," said Callie, smirking at the pun. "You are not going to miss Thanksgiving dinner. You never do."

"That's why I have to go to bed soon, so I can spare an hour or two eating turkey and dressing and—”

Frank rolled his eyes. "Come on, little brother. Let's be good little boys and go home."

Joe shifted his gaze to the restaurant exit and turned serious. "What if I don't want to. What if I want to do something naughty."

Vanessa sighed. "It's for the best. He could frame you and Frank with a crime, something horrible." She shook her head. "Please, listen to your dad, both of you."

Frank locked eyes with his brother. "We haven't always before."

As if reading his brother's mind, Joe frowned. "That was different. I knew the guy was innocent. Innocent until proven guilty."

Frank sighed and got to his feet, then helped Callie out of the booth. "The ball's in his court now, Vanessa. Whatever happens next will either be his fault or—” Frank shrugged. "We're letting it go for now."

Callie frowned. "Until the time it comes to 'not be nice'."

Frank looked over at her. "Exactly."

***

Joe propped one arm on the rim of the open window, rested his hand on the steering wheel. He'd been driving more since Frank's little accident only because he'd bug his brother until Frank caved in. Like now, when they'd left the mall. They'd gone out to drop Vanessa off and then Callie, and now they were headed home.

"Stop looking so smug."

"Smug? Me? I was just enforcing the new law. You, daytime hours only."

Frank grunted. "Right. I have my own set of keys too, remember?"

"Not if I confiscate them. I should have done that the last time."

"What last time?"

"The time you raced by that police station in Kirkland. I still remember that cop telling us the van could stay right where it was to catch its breath."

Frank groaned. "Why'd you have to bring that up?"

"Because you'd just been bugging me about driving too fast."

"Whatever." Frank glanced out the window and sighed. More out of habit than wanting to irritate his brother, he glanced ahead to the intersection. "Joe, four-way stop up ahead."

"Yeah, yeah." Joe sighed and pressed his foot to the brake. The van slowed for a moment, shuddered and just kept going. "Oh no, not this again."

Frank looked over at him. "Brakes?"

"Not working. Why is it always the brakes? Don't people know about cost and inflation and insurance rates?"

Frank peered ahead. The intersection looked clear at the moment. "Grab the emergency brake."

"I hate the sound of the screeching. There's a side road just up ahead, I'll steer for that, save some wear and tear."

Frank gave his brother a look. Joe seemed calm over the whole thing, but his knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel. Frank swallowed hard, glanced to the left and saw no one at the stop sign, the stop across from them was empty as well.

An air horn sounded and Frank whipped his head around to see a dump truck barreling right at them. "Joe! Hit the gas!" shouted Frank, staring at the truck's grill coming ever closer.

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.