Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

Chapter Eighteen: Back in Bayport

We got home before noon Sunday; the extra time we’d driven the previous night in search of a hotel had carved our travel time down considerably. I let Joe drive the last hour or so into Bayport, since he was familiar with the roads and being a pest about it. Besides, I was a little tired and my back was sore. Chet and Biff were ahead of us, and both waved out the window as Biff turned down the road that would take them out to the Morton farm. “Didn’t Chet leave his car at the Hoopers’ house?” I wondered aloud, vaguely remembering that Chet had driven into town two weeks ago.

“I bet Iola or someone drove it back,” Joe responded, halting at the eternally red light on Picket Road . “I hate this light.”

“You and the rest of this city,” I replied. “They need to pass a law against it.” I was feeling remarkably light-hearted with only a slight tinge of regret that our ‘trip’ was over. It wasn’t the worst we’d had, but it certainly wasn’t anywhere near the best, either. Even the time when we’d gone to check out the Honeycomb Caves had been less exasperating. Also less dangerous, even though Joe had fallen over a cliff, Biff had been clunked on the head, and Chet stunned when his metal detector was booby-trapped... Okay, so maybe it had been almost as dangerous. But despite that, the Honeycomb Caves had been a lot more enjoyable, most of the time.

“What they really need to do,” my brother answered with unexpected seriousness, “is adjust the timing. Well, finally!” he growled as the light turned green.

“Is it just me, or are you a bit on the grumbly side?” I inquired, looking at him curiously.

“It’s not just you. I didn’t sleep very well.”

“Oh. All the noise?”

“Sort of.” Joe scowled. “Revved up my imagination enough to give me some not-too-nice dreams.”

“You can always grab a snooze when we get everything inside,” I suggested as he turned carefully into our driveway and edged our car into the garage beside Mom’s.

“I might.” He shut off the engine and stretched his arms, then hopped out, opened the passenger door to grab out the bags of food, and headed for the kitchen entrance. I leaned over to hit the trunk-open button, then got out and dragged my suitcase and duffel bag inside.

“Hi, honey,” came Mom’s voice from the dining room as I walked into the cool kitchen. Joe had already unloaded one full bag, placing things at random around the countertop. “Did you boys have a good time?”

“It wasn’t bad,” I said neutrally, if not entirely honestly. “We’ve definitely had worse trips-”

“What, nothing mysterious happen for a change?” Mom teased, coming into the kitchen and giving me a brief hug. “What’s with all this food?”

“We didn’t want to waste it,” Joe explained, turning to her. “And this is only half of it,” he added with a smile. Mom put her arms around him and kissed his cheek.

“Maybe we could give some to the Food Bank. Like the oatmeal,” she suggested, nodding at the round container.

“Oh, that Chet!” Joe exclaimed, breaking out of the embrace to lift the oatmeal carton and heft it. “He knows we hate oatmeal!”

“Not as much as he does, according to him. Biff got that, we should give it back to him,” I mused. “The trunk’s open,” I added, heading for the upstairs with my luggage. “And actually, Mom, we did have a mystery- tell you about it in a bit.” I tossed that over my shoulder from halfway up the steps.

“Not another one!” I heard her saying to Joe. “I swear, everywhere you two go-” Then her voice was lost as I went into my room and thankfully dropped the heavy suitcase on the carpet.

In for a lecture, I bet- and she hasn’t even heard the case yet. Heavy-duty editing on this one, Frank!

So when I got back downstairs, I did exactly that, not telling her much more than the bare bones of the whole thing. Joe jumped in with details, as usual, but minor stuff- things like how uncomfortable it had been to snooze on a train seat, how chilly it was in Canada , how thick the forest was. He also made some observations about the lumberjacks in the camp where we spent a night that had Mom smiling.

“So this runaway boy-”

“Kidnapped,” I corrected. “Lafoote kidnapped George and tried to take him up to Rhee’s hideout in Canada .”

“Ah. Which you found when your father and a Federal representative-”

“Mr. Chester.”

“-Asked you to tail this foreigner-”

“Candir Karu, yes. Who thought he was getting genetically-engineered athletes from Rhee for his country, but was actually getting kidnapped, brainwashed, naturally-created boys who happened to be very big and strong for their ages,” I concluded.

“And we even got some sightseeing in on the way,” Joe added cheerfully as Mom frowned. “The Reversing Falls on the Saint John’s River were really incredible! I’ve never seen a river flow upstream before!”

Mom relaxed a little, looking interested. “I never have either,” she mused. “That must have been quite a sight. Though I must say, I’m not entirely happy about the two of you tailing that man. It sounds-”

“Oh, we stood up on top of an old fort and looked out through one of those telescope things,” Joe assured her, omitting the part about how we’d foolishly followed Karu down an alley and had to talk our way out of a nasty situation. Neither Dad nor Mr. Chester had mentioned that Karu was carrying a knife, nor that he was apparently very ready to use it. Joe and I had nearly found that out the hard way.

“Now that was sensible thinking,” Mom said approvingly.

“Thank you,” I answered cheekily, and she laughed. “And Dad was there- he spent a day with us in Vermont ,” I went on. “So that was cool. Did he finish that new case yet?”

“I expect him home tomorrow or the day after,” Mom answered, getting up from the chair she’d settled into. Joe and I were on the sofa, facing her. “It’s not as much of a case as usual for him- I understand the thing is to compare modus operandi and see if he can build enough of a convincing case to charge a rather deft bank robber. They’ve got him on four robberies, and they think they can pin three more on him as well.”

“Cool!” Joe exclaimed, high-fiving me without warning.

You’d almost think she was a detective herself, she knows so much of the vocabulary. “If anybody can figure out a link, Dad can,” I commented, keeping the other thought to myself. Mom may have picked up the talk, but she doesn’t care to be complimented on it.

Sometimes it makes me wonder; why’d Mom marry Dad, knowing he was a detective, if she didn’t care for his job? Did she think she could get him to change his mind and be a banker or something? I never quite dare to ask her about it; I figure if she did have it in mind to persuade him into another job, she might be a bit sensitive about the fact that it hasn’t worked yet.

The rest of the day passed in a pretty typical after-vacation manner. We returned to the kitchen to finish putting the food away, then went upstairs to unpack. Dealing with the clothing was easy enough; everything had been worn at least once and all of it smelled fishy. That’s the problem with packing fish-stinky clothes in with other stuff; you might just as well spray the entire bag with essence de fish. Rather than shove everything into my hamper and have it smelling up the room, I hauled it all down to the washing machine in the basement. Joe had had a similar idea, and between us we had two quite sizeable piles, one light and one dark.

Putting away the other stuff I’d taken along- my books and some cds- took a little more time, mostly because I’m picky and like everything in alphabetical order. Joe came in and sat in my desk chair, watching and making the occasional remark about my ‘persnickety’ nature, while I retaliated with comments about his ‘chaotic décor’ attitude. When everything was unpacked, we went downstairs for a snack, then got pressed into service helping Mom. I got to dust while Joe vacuumed, and as usual he charged my feet with the vacuum while I was moving around the house. I pretended to bait him like a bull with my dust rag a few times, dodging until I accidentally ran into a chair and decided to give up the bullfighter act.

After the chores were done, Mom started getting supper. By then the laundry was finished, so we lugged that upstairs and spent about an hour putting it all away. It wouldn’t have taken so long if we hadn’t mixed our stuff together; figuring out which socks and jeans belonged to whom took some time. I had finished putting my stuff away and was about three pages into a book when Mom called us to set the table. Dinner was soon served; chicken chow mein, with rice, chicken chunks, celery, mushrooms, and water chestnuts, as well as those funny dried noodles. We helped with the dishes, then had dessert. Chocolate chip cookies.

The rest of the evening was divided between watching TV and- in my case- reading the book I brought down from my room. When ten-thirty arrived, Mom shooed us upstairs to shower and get ready for bed.

“That’s another thing we left out,” I remarked quietly to Joe as we reached the upstairs landing. “Late bedtimes.”

“I know. I suddenly feel like a nine-year-old again,” he sighed. “Oh well,” he added with a yawn. “I am tired. I never took that nap.”

“I am too. And it’ll be good to sleep in our own rooms…” Or would it, I wondered. We’d gotten rather used to sharing a room. “Or you could always come in and keep me company,” I offered casually.

“I might,” he agreed. “Dibs on the bathroom!” he added with a wicked grin, and I cuffed his arm as he scooted off to claim it.

As it turned out, Joe did end up in my room, falling asleep beside me while I read after my shower. Mom didn’t comment on that when she came in to say goodnight, only kissed us both and reminded me not to stay up too late reading. I didn’t pay quite enough attention, though, and fell asleep sitting up, the light still on beside me.