Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

AN: Sorry for the lengthy hiatus…I had to make sure I was setting things up just so…And I hope that you’re all still excited about the story. Please read and enjoy. From here, things are going to start getting a whole lot more interesting.

An early morning phone call from Chief DeGroot’s office had Frank and Joe dashing out towards a region in the Adirondacks. The message had been simple: a resident of the area had come forward with information that may or may not be pertinent to their missing-persons case.

After consulting with the Hunters and the Westons, it was agreed the Hardys would go on ahead and call back with results, whatever they may be. They realised there was little sense in bringing everyone up if it turned out to be a false alarm.

“I certainly don’t like it,” Joe said, shaking his head. “I have a very bad feeling about this.”

“Me, too,” Frank said. He felt a curious oppression of spirit, and was having a hard time keeping negative thoughts at bay.

When they arrived in the small town of Meritsville, the deputy at the police station directed them along a rural route they had travelled only days before while retracing Calvin and Sandra Hunter’s moves.

“You’ll find units parked along the side of the road after a fifteen-twenty minute drive or so,” the deputy named Peter Van der Beek advised, “Chief De Groot’s been out there for a few hours now. He told me you two would have hot-footed it out here.”

“Can you tell us anything more about why we were called down here?” Frank asked.

“We had one of the locals drop by early this morning,” Van der Beek said. “He’d been sitting on some, er, information for a little while. Said he didn’t want to get in trouble. Guess the story about the missing family and his own conscience finally ate away at him.”
“What do you mean?” Joe queried, trying to keep the excitement in his voice under control, as he sensed they were about to get a huge break in their investigation.

“I don’t have all the details,” the deputy responded, “but it sounds like the guy stumbled upon something while he was out in the bush with his hunting dog.”

Van der Beek must have caught the brothers’ dumbfounded expressions, so he elaborated.

“He was out in the woods with his hunting dog…and he didn’t have a hunting permit.”

“Oh…” Frank and Joe said simultaneously.

“Near as we can tell,” Van der Beek continued, “the dog probably uncovered something out there.”

Human remains? the investigators looked at each other, and without exchanging a word, knew the same thought was flashing through their minds.

Back in their car, Frank and Joe made the twenty-minute drive to the site in silence. Neither wanted to acknowledge that it would be a devastating conclusion to the search if the ‘something’ the hunter’s dog had uncovered indeed turned out to be Callie’s missing relatives. Of course it would mean the search would be over, but it would then mean the start to an entirely new quest: the search for their killer or killers.

True to the deputy’s word, the Hardys found several police cars and a coroner’s van off to the side of the road. A lone officer, conspicuous in a lime green vest with reflective stripes, was directing whatever traffic passed through. He was in the middle of waving their car through when Frank rolled down his window and called the officer over.

“We were called down to this location by Chief De Groot,” Frank said when the officer approached.

“You guys Frank and Joe Hardy, then?” the officer gruffly asked, peering inside to get a closer look at the brothers.

“That’s us,” Joe piped up.

“IDs?”

They flashed their private investigator’s licenses.

After scrutinizing them for a spell, the officer gave a satisfied grunt and a nod, and showed them an out-of-the-way place to park their car. He pulled his radio to his mouth and presumably announced to De Groot that Frank and Joe had arrived, and were making their way to the site the unlicensed hunter’s dog discovered.

In another state southwest of the Hardy’s location, another discovery was at hand.

Half-way through their tour, Chicago Police officers Norm Bennis and Suze Figueroa were sent by Dispatch to check on a ‘suspicious smell’ coming from a room in a SRO.

The partners were being led down a dim hall towards a room by a large, barrel-chested man wearing tattered sweatpants and a flannel shirt that he chose not to button up.

“Smells like something died in there, if ya know what I’m sayin’!” he said, waving his hand in front of his face; his nose turned up in disgust.

“Yeah, we know,” Norm replied dryly.

“Or rather, my nose knows,” Suze muttered under her breath.

As they walked, the man, who gave his name as Sheldon, kept up with a light chatter. “’Course, it could just be a rat or cat or something got trapped in there and died. Once had someone keeping rabbits, if you believe it. Then there was the guy with the snake…But I figured I’d better call the cops about this one just to be on the safe side, right?”

“And who says people in Chicago don’t exercise their civic duty?” Suze said with a tight smile.

Litter was scattered about on the cracked linoleum, and one overhead fluorescent light flickered and blinked rhythmically, sending dismal shadows dancing as the three passed beneath it.

A heavy, oppressive odour permeated the place. It was a distinctive smell; one that was certainly not unfamiliar to Suze and Norm.

Sheldon stopped short, and turned to face them.

“It’s comin’ from in there,” he said in a whisper, jerking his thumb in the direction of the last door on the left. “Just ‘cause I mind the place don’t mean I hafta look in on the tenants, see?” He held his breath and remained several feet away from the offending room.

Norm approached the door, which he observed was open a crack. He rapped his knuckles lightly on the door three times and called out loudly:

“This is the police! Is anyone in there?”

“Police! If you’re in there, please respond!” Suze raised her voice.

When there was no answer after a few repeated calls, Suze shook her head, indicating the time had come to enter the room.

Pushing lightly on the door, Norm took care not to touch the knob, just in case it was important to lift fingerprints from it at a later time.

The stench was utterly overpowering when they finally stepped inside.

“It’s something dead, alright,” Suze said with a sigh, “and it’s definitely of the human species. Let’s call it in.”

Nancy Drew opened her eyes and for a split second felt slightly disoriented. This is my old room, she told herself as the fog of sleep gradually lifted, and familiar keepsakes, pictures and bedroom furnishings came into focus. After a noiseless yawn, she sat up and swung her legs over the side of her bed and just remained there, seated on the edge.

A long-buried memory of another morning surfaced so suddenly, Nancy was almost shocked by its clarity. It was of her deceased mother, Elizabeth, and one of few truly clear memories Nancy had been able to hold onto through the intervening years.

I haven’t thought about this one in a long, long time, Nancy mused. It was a very pleasant recollection from when Nancy must have been about two or three, when Elizabeth had slipped quietly into the nursery room to wake her sleeping daughter. Nancy smiled as she remembered she’d already been awake, but was pretending to sleep just so she could hear her mother’s soft, coaxing voice gently urging her to get up.

“Come on, sleepyhead, it’s morning.”

Her mother’s hand, a comforting caress, stroked Nancy’s head and smoothed her red-gold hair. Her lips, feather-soft, brushed her daughter’s cheek, still fleshy with the chubbiness from her babyhood. My, but that tickled! Nancy had been unable to contain her giggles.

“Mommy, that tickles me!”

“Oh, look at that!” Elizabeth said, feigning surprise, “she’s awake!”

“I tricked you, didn’t I?” Nancy said, pulling herself up from her pillow.

“Yes, you did, sweetheart. You’re just too clever for me.” Laughing delightedly, Elizabeth gathered her daughter up in her arms, and Nancy snuggled comfortably against her, head tucked securely under her mother’s chin.

“I love you, Mommy!”

“I love you, too, darling.”

The vision was gone after that tender moment, and back in the present, Nancy realised with a small twinge of sadness that Elizabeth Drew had suffered a fatal heart attack only weeks later.

Her mother’s sudden passing, while tragic in the sense that she had died young, was never something Nancy considered to be an emotional burden. Of course, there were times when she wished for her mother’s presence: her first date; prom; graduation - especially from the Police Academy - plus all the big milestones in the normal course of life: developmental, social, and educational. And while her father tried to be present, he was kept busy with his thriving criminal law practice.

For what was not the first time, Nancy once again reflected what a blessing Hannah Gruen was to the small unit that was the Drew family. Hannah had never tried to replace Elizabeth, but had indeed filled the role of a mother-figure in Nancy’s life. In fact, Hannah, in her own way, had kept Elizabeth’s memory alive.

As a little girl, saying her bedtime prayers, Hannah often liked to remind Nancy that Elizabeth was like a special angel now, watching over her and looking out for her, even if Nancy couldn’t see her or hear her. For the number of close calls she’d had throughout her life, Nancy was almost certain Hannah was right about that.

Only now, Nancy thought, I must have run out of divine protection a long time ago. Making a concerted effort to get up, she crossed the room and continued on with her usual morning bathroom ritual.

I wonder what my mother would have to say about the path I’ve chosen for myself if she were alive today? Nancy asked herself as she washed her face and gazed at herself in the mirror. Would I even have gone into law enforcement? Would I have even been allowed to follow whatever cases came my way as a teenager, no matter how dangerous?

Frank and Joe Hardy had both their father and mother in their lives, plus an overbearing aunt…But then, Fenton was a former detective with the NYPD, and let’s face it, Nancy thought, they’re males. And they’re brothers. They’d always have each other to rely on in a case.

Nancy smiled ruefully. Just can’t keep your thoughts from creeping back to Frank Hardy, can you? She felt a familiar heartache, bringing with it a sadness she dearly hoped would not linger for the rest of the day.

Yes, she had feelings for the elder Hardy. Yet, somewhere in the dark recesses of her soul, she wondered if somehow she could still manage to salvage things with Ned Nickerson. The total unfairness of it all weighed heavily upon her.

I had everything taken away from me last year. My identity, the life I loved, the friends I loved, the job I loved, the home I loved, and the man I loved…None of those things have been restored to the way they were before. Do I even want to keep doing any of this anymore? Last years’ events brought nothing but misery for everyone involved. Maybe it just isn’t worth it.

Nancy knew the time was fast approaching when she would have to take a long, hard look at her life, and make some serious decisions. But not on an empty stomach, she thought with a wry smile. Downstairs in the kitchen, Hannah had prepared breakfast, and remarked how good it was to have Nancy back in the house again.

“It’s good to be back,” Nancy replied, giving the housekeeper a quick peck on the cheek. “I can’t tell you how much I’ve really missed you and Dad…Those few days I had here when I got back from San Francisco just weren’t enough. And I‘ve missed your cooking, too.” Hannah smiled and placed a plate of blueberry pancakes with sausages on the side on the table.

Nancy pulled the day’s edition of the Chicago Tribune towards her and quickly scanned the headlines. A by-line by her long-time friend, Ann Granger, formerly of the River Heights Morning Record, caught Nancy’s attention. Nancy read the investigative reporter’s account of a deadly house fire that had taken place in Chicago that had claimed the lives of three members of the family, including a newborn baby daughter. Ann had spoken with the fire chief and arson investigators, and both concluded that the fire was a direct result of a gas leak, and that the three members of the Shorter family were probably already dead by the time the placed burned. The basement burned first, eventually consuming the ground level. The fire chief also noted that smoke detectors in the house didn’t have any batteries. Nancy quickly took note of the next few lines Ann had written, and inhaled sharply when she realised the implications. Ann had also spoken with the parents of Marcus Shorter, and they had adamantly refused to believe the fire was accidental. Mr. Nigel Shorter was quoted by Ann in this way:

“ ‘When my son was seven, there was a fire at our apartment complex. Over one hundred people were made homeless that night. Ever since then, he’s been terrified of fire. He’d been obsessive about fire-prevention since then. He even kept a fire extinguisher in his bedroom closet, and made the family do fire drills when we got a new place. And if there’s one thing in this world he would have made damn sure of, it would be that the smoke detectors in his house were in perfect, working order!’”

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.