HDA - Ghost in the Hills by Trevor Smith Chapter 18

"I'm sorry I followed you boys, but I recognized you, and wanted to apologize for that mishap earlier. See, it all came about because of - eh, maybe I better start from the beginning." The large man shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he began his narrative.

* * * * *

"It all started out as a dream."

"Three buddies who wanted to stick together, go into business together. And we did. It all worked out such that we found ourselves in possession of a small machine shop. Our plan was to manufacture custom rifles - collectors items. Didn't want a huge profit, just to be able to work with a few people a year designing and building their dream display piece."

"At first, it looked like everything was perfection; we had a few customers, worked for a year and a half with them. Then everything petered out. No new customers, the old ones weren't looking for any more merchandise. So we decided to broaden our outlook a little. Make our own customised firearms for sale as less expensive collector's items."

"That didn’t fly either. We were getting into some very heavy expenses regarding machinery that we’d purchased, and work just wasn’t coming. One day about two years ago, we were approached by a stranger. He said that a company that he represented was looking for a weapon's manufacturer to fill a large order that they had for a custom weapon. Naturally, it excited us. But after we began talking with the company, it almost seemed as though they were hiding information from us."

"We asked about their market, and got some nonsense about boys shooting clubs - especially when we saw the design for the weapon. It wasn’t anything I would give to a kid to go shooting with. But Barton and Harold decided to sign the contract, as we needed to get some kind of income or go under."

"As a first gesture, they required us to move to the middle of nowhere, New York, into what could almost be construed as an underground bunker. How they created it, how many entrances and exits it has, I have no idea. Well, moving in took about a month, and then things started to churn. We were making their design and in comes their little representative again. Says he, "You all are going to be making us some ‘real’ specialties now." Turns out they want several hundred easily constructed handguns, with some disguised item firearms; stuff like you’d see in a spy flick."

"Well, it didn’t sit real well with either Harold or myself. Barton on the other hand was just looking at the dollar figures that they put together for us. Harold figured that they were running some sort of gang or something, and his guess seemed plausible, specially when the rep came back and warned us that we either complied or faced legal consequences - criminal charges - for breaking some laws. Had it all written up nice on paper - looked official enough."

"There didn’t seem to be any way out of it at that point. So we manufactured the weapons. Even Barton agreed that this would be the last and only business that we’d do for them. After we were paid, we were dissolving the business for a while. Things started getting jumpy, and I thought that they were just going to knock us off and take everything without paying for it. Guess I was a bit jumpy when you boys started round. I was just trying to protect my partners and myself from our employers."

"See, Harold had been doing some feeding of information - anonymously, mind you - to the FBI, trying to see if they could shut down the whole operation. He had a near accident while coming back from a public phone - car blew up on him. Luckily, he wasn’t in it. It shook him up a whole lot though. Then we started seeing people wandering around here. And it was almost time for delivering the last batch of weapons. I thought you boys were their agents, sent to assassinate us; not having seen who it was, mind you."

"I guess we kind of blew it. Our dream just ended up as some kind of living nightmare."

For a moment, Buddy seemed lost in reflection. Then he turned to the boys with almost a pleading expression. "That's why I've got to turn myself in. Harold, Barton and me, we're in this together, and I'm not running cause it went bad."

Frank nodded and placed a call to Agent Sanders. When she answered, he told her that Buddy had come to their motel wanting to turn himself in. Frank heard the elation in her voice when she responded. "Great! I'll have a squad car come pick him up. Just make sure you all stay put until it gets there."

"Will do." Hanging up the phone, Frank shook his head in amusement. Wonder if we ever sound that bad during an investigation?

Patiently the boys waited with Buddy until a squad car appeared in the parking lot. Uniformed officers came and took Buddy and his box of documents away. After the officers departed, the phone rang. Joe answered and took a few moments nodding and answering 'yes' or 'no'. The conversation ended rather quickly and he set the phone down before turning to shrug at the group.

"Guess the case is wrapped up here for us. We have to head home tomorrow anyways." He glanced at Frank, then continued. "That was dad, he said that he might have some interviews for us to take care of if we could break ourselves free from the wilds. I said we could get back tomorrow afternoon sometime, and he said to do it." Joe grinned ear to ear. Vacation was fun, but Joe Hardy loved being on the case.

Frank stood and yawned. "Fine. But I suggest that we get some sleep now or we won't get anywhere." He grinned as the other three bid the brothers 'good-night' and left for their own room. "What a day."

* * * * *

Next day...

The Hardy's stood beside the van, stowing the last pieces of their camping equipment inside. Biff walked out of the motel office, TJ on his heels. Chet followed more slowly, carefully balancing a paper plate containing several donuts while holding a glass of milk in his other hand. As they drew near the van, Joe popped out of the side and snagged one of the delicacies from the plate and sampled it, mumbling approvingly around a full mouth.

Biff grinned and stole a donut while Chet was busy glaring at Joe. His attention strayed back to the plate just in time to see the precious cake whisk away. "Hey! Go get your own!" Chet backed away from both, trying desperately to save what remained of his breakfast from the raiders. TJ watched amused for a moment before stepping forward to shield the chunky lad from his comrades.

Joe laughed and walked back to van while stuffing the remains of his prize into his mouth. Frank chose that moment to reappear, and shook his head at his friends' antics. Biff trying to dodge around TJ while Chet danced around in the background trying to keep the other boy between himself and Biff.

"Cut it out guys!" Frank laughed. "We've got to get going if we want to get home in time for Aunt Gertrude's apple pie." Chet's face immediately brightened at the thought and even Biff grinned good naturedly. Joe glanced sideways at his brother.

"And when did this happen?" he asked. "Did you just phone our 'beloved bestower of all good things', including a healthy dose of dire warnings?"

Frank grinned and winked at Joe. The boys grouped around the van, and handshakes were exchanged all around. TJ handed Frank a manila envelope in exchange for a folded piece of paper. "Thanks for the great time guys. Do it again sometime?" Biff laughed and glanced at the brothers. "Hey, you come to Bayport and hang around Frank and Joe, it's practically guaranteed!"

Chet held out his precious plate of donuts. "Here, have one for the road. Come see us sometime." TJ accepted the prooffered cake and thanked Chet, then blinking rapidly as three other hands whisked away from the plate. Chet glanced downwards and moaned as he beheld the single donut left. "No..." The other three laughed and clambered into the van. As soon as Chet hauled himself inside, Biff closed the door and Joe pulled the van out of the parking lot. TJ waved to them before getting into his own car. He watched as the van disappeared from view, closer to home, and closer than anyone realized to Frank and Joe's next mystery...