HDA - December Magic by RM Chapter 1

Frank Hardy took a sip of his second cup of coffee trying to find the energy to get moving. He had been unable to fall asleep again even though he had closed his eyes and relaxed his body. His mind had kept going, reliving that image over and over again.

He knew he wasn’t in good shape for the meeting, but he couldn’t back out. It was a case that needed their “immediate attention,” they had been told. Frank was hoping it wouldn’t be lengthy because he wanted to go on their honeymoon after the ceremony.

Hearing footsteps coming down the hallway, he looked up to see his brother coming into the kitchen. Joe stopped quickly.

“Are you all right, Frank?”

“Yeah,” Frank said, wishing the caffeine would kick in. “Are you almost ready? We need to meet Dad in town.”

“Let me grab something to eat and we can go.”

Frank nodded and finished the last of his coffee as Joe pulled a bagel out of the refrigerator and quickly toasted it.

Within 10 minutes, they were heading into town. Joe was behind the wheel as Frank leaned back in his seat. He could feel a headache coming on and knew it was from the lack of sleep. He closed his eyes hoping it would go away on its own, but doubted it would happen.

The ride to the office building where the meeting was to occur was done in silence. When Joe pulled to a stop, they got out and made their way inside.

Entering through the glass doors, they spotted their father, an older replica of Frank, except for from graying in his hair, waiting for them.

“Good timing,” Fenton said when they reached him. “Mr. Fieldstone is just finishing up a call. We’ll go in when he’s done.”

“All right,” Frank said.

“Dad, do you have any idea what this is all about?” Joe asked.

“I’m not 100 percent sure,” Fenton admitted. “But I know we’ll get the particulars once we get in there.”

They waited for a few minutes until the secretary ushered them into the office. A man, who was in his late 50s, with white hair, was sitting behind his desk. They realized this was Mr. Fieldstone.

“Mr. Hardy,” Mr. Fieldstone said, standing up and moving around the desk. He reached over and shook Fenton’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for coming.”

“I hope we’ll be able to help,” Fenton said. “These are my sons, Frank and Joe.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Mr. Fieldstone said, shaking both their hands. “Please have a seat and we’ll get started.”

Frank and Joe settled in chairs on opposite sides of Fenton as Mr. Fieldstone settled once again behind his desk.

“You didn’t give me much information when you call, Mr. Fieldstone,” Fenton began.

“Please call me Greg,” he said. “And I know I was vague on the phone. This matter needs the utmost secrecy and from the people I’ve talked to, I believe Hardy Investigations can handle the job.”

“What exactly do you want us to do?” Fenton asked.

“Let me explain what’s going on,” Greg said. “I have a very large home outside of town where my wife and I love. Our three children are grown and have started families of their own.” Greg shook his head quickly. “Sorry, I’m getting off track.”

“That’s all right,” Fenton said.

“The reason I called you is because of an old story I head that I believe to be true,” Greg said, leaning back in his chair. “On my property, there is an old building that overlooks the bay. Long ago, a family lived in that building and spent most of the year fishing on the bay. The story goes that on one of those fishing expeditions, the man found a chest full of coins. He brought it home and it helped the family through some rough times.”

“It sounds like the family really lucked out,” Joe said.

“They did,” Greg said. “The man was Frederick Fieldstone, my great-great-grandfather. He had carefully used the money only when it was absolutely necessary and stored the rest away, never telling anyone where it had been hidden.”

“Then what happened?” Joe asked.

“Well, for years, no one in the family questioned Frederick as to where the chest had been hidden. And when he died, no one knew where the chest was. Family members have searched time and time again for the chest, but have not had any luck.”

“And so you want us to try and located the chest,” Joe concluded.

“Exactly,” Greg said. “This is a part of our heritage that we’d like to have.”

“How can we help?” Frank asked, finally joining the conversation. “If your family has searched for the chest, why do you think we will be able to find it?”

“We have searched, but we haven’t been able to find it. But we have found this book.” Greg pulled out an old, leather-bound journal with a leather strap and buckle. “In this journal, Frederick alludes to the chest. We believe there are clues here as to where the chest is, but haven’t been able to decipher it.”

“And you believe we can?” Frank asked.

“I know this isn’t a normal case for you, but your help would be greatly appreciated. We aren’t looking for the coins for ourselves. This is a part of history that needs to be shared with everyone.”

Frank looked at Joe, who nodded his head slightly. They both looked at their father giving him a nod that they would look into this.

“We will see what we can come up with,” Fenton said.

“I appreciate it,” Greg said. “And if you have any question, don’t hesitate to give me a call.”

“We’ll be in touch,” Fenton said.

“Thank you.”

They each shook Greg’s hand after he handed them the journal and left the office.

Once outside, Fenton looked at his son’s. “Let’s get to the office and get to work.”

“That sounds like a plan,” Joe said.

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Disclaimer

The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The authors 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.