Disclaimer:

This is a not-for-profit work of fiction. I don't own the Hardy Boys, but the characters Duncan Blackwell, the Bauers and other minor ones are my own trademarks. The Hardy Boys and other regular characters are copyrights or trademarks of Simon & Schuster, and other legal holders.

CHAPTER 1

Eighteen-year-old Frank Hardy walked out of a computer store carrying a box full of used hardware. His brown eyes glanced at his wristwatch. It was almost three-thirty in the afternoon.

"What are you going to do with all that junk anyway?" Joe Hardy, Frank's younger brother by a year, eyed the box. He scratched his blond head in puzzlement.

Even though Joe wasn't into computers, he had decided to accompany his brother than staying at home watching TV. It was the beginning of summer, and the weather in Bayport today was warm and sunny. Just perfect for a swim, Joe thought. He vowed to go swimming some time this week with his friends. For once, it was kind of nice to have time to relax without getting involved in cases.

"Phil wanted to use them for his work," Frank answered.

Phil Cohen was a good friend of the Hardys. He was a whiz in computers and hi-tech gizmos. Phil was taking a summer job in one of the well-known electronic companies in Bayport.

"I heard the pay that he's getting is huge, even for a summer intern," Joe commented.

"Well, just enough to buy yourself a new set of PC," his brother replied, "But you're right, it's more than enough for people like us."

Both of them walked around the corner of the block, where they had parked their black van.

"Oof!" Someone almost knocked over Frank, but the box that he was holding fell, sending the contents scattered all over the sidewalk.

"I'm really sorry, man!" A young man quickly apologized as he helped Frank and Joe retrieving the motherboards, hard drives, and other types of hardware into the box.

When they were done, Frank turned to the young man. "Thanks, man," he said.

The man gave an easy smile. "No problem, it's my fault anyway. I wasn't really looking where I was going," he assured them. He looked as if he was in a hurry – and anxious.

The man was tall - taller than Joe's 6ft frame, and even Frank's six one. He looked about three years older than Frank. He was wearing an executive suit, with the tie hanging loose. But the suit couldn't hide his broad muscular physique. Frank didn't think the suit fitted the man. He would probably be more comfortable in jeans and leather jacket. Even the man's black hair was worn long - almost reaching the base of his neck.

Joe's blue eyes glanced curiously at the man before smiling broadly. "Hey, you're Duncan Blackwell!" he exclaimed happily.

The man's gray eyes studied Joe carefully. "Joe…Joe Hardy?" Duncan asked in surprise. He shook hands with the younger Hardy in a firm grip.

"It's been a long time, man. Where've you been all this time?" Joe asked.

"Wait a minute, I'm at lost here," Frank spoke up before Duncan could reply, holding up a hand.

Duncan turned to Frank. "This must be Frank, isn't it?"

"That's right," Frank replied, shaking hands with the handsome man. "But I don't think we've met before, have we?" he asked with a puzzled grin.

"No, but Joe has told me a lot about you," Duncan replied.

"He did, didn't he?" Frank said with a mocking glare at his brother.

"So, what are you up to now these days?" Joe asked Duncan.

Frank could tell that Joe was very curious even though he tried to look casual.

"I'm working part-time at Datatronics," Duncan told him. Then he glanced around him as if searching for someone.

"Datatronics!" Frank exclaimed.

"You? In Datatronics?" Joe said at the same time, his mouth hanging open. He couldn't picture Duncan working in a stuffy office and in front of a computer.

"What's wrong?" Duncan asked when he was met with their surprised looks.

Frank knew Datatronics was one of the most prominent and successful companies in Bayport that developed hardware and software for measurement and automation systems. Phil had once told him that Datatronics was founded only five years ago. Frank felt a grudging admiration and envy for Duncan.

"Nothing," Joe began uncomfortably, "it's kind of different from what you've done in the past."

Frank could tell there was more to Joe's statement than meets the eye, but he decided to ask him about it later.

"Don't worry," Duncan assured with a dismissal wave, "I found out it's what I like ever since I enrolled in Bayport U," he told them. "Then I'm going to work full time in Datatronics after I graduated."

"Wow, you certainly have been busy," Joe remarked in surprise.

Duncan glanced at his wristwatch and frowned. "Well, I wished we could talk longer, but I'm in a hurry," he apologized. Then he pulled out a card from his pocket and handed it to Joe. "Call me anytime if you're not too busy."

"Thanks. I'm still staying at the same place, if you want to come over," Joe replied.

"Great," Duncan said with a quick smile. "Nice meeting you two." With that, he quickly walked away before disappearing around the corner of the block.

When Duncan had gone, the Hardys walked back to their van. After Frank had placed the box at the back of the van, he climbed the driver seat, started the ignition, and pulled out of the parking space.

"Wow, Duncan is working as a software programmer," Joe announced, looking at the card that Duncan had given him.

"You sound surprise," Frank commented, looking curiously at his brother. "How did you get to know him anyway? You never mentioned about him before."

"I'm sure you'd be horrified if I told you that I used to hang out with a group of delinquents when I was twelve," Joe started with a small grin.

Frank raised an eyebrow at Joe before turning back to the road. "So, that was your so-called extra-curricular activity in school," he quipped.

"Very funny," his brother muttered. "But you know I used to hang out at the mall for skateboarding," he went on.

Frank knew there was a skateboarding rink beside the Bayport Mall. He also remembered that his brother used to go there every weekend to skateboard when he was twelve. He had stopped doing that ever since he started high school.

"Uh-huh," Frank said. "So, I suppose that was where you hung out with delinquents? And all this time I thought you were hanging out with Chet and Biff," he said, referring to their good friends, Chet Morton and Biff Hooper. He shook his head disapprovingly.

Joe snorted. "You do meet a lot of people over there, you know," he said a little defensively. Then he grinned, "You should take a break from your chess game with your computer once in a while. That's a weird…friend you have there," he added smugly.

"You'd be surprised how much I've learned planning strategies with a friend," Frank argued.

Joe ignored his remark. "Anyway, Duncan was one of the delinquents, not that I really care back then. But he was nice enough to show me how to customize my skateboard," he continued. "It was during that time that I got to know him better. I think he was nicer than the rest of his gang. He came from a broken family and lived on the seedy side of Bayport. Some of his gang was involved in drugs."

"Mom and Dad will be freaked out if they hear this," Frank told him simply.

"But Duncan's told me he didn't do drugs," Joe retorted.

"And you've believed him?" his brother asked matter-of-factly.

"Yes, and because he and a few others were the only one who weren't sent to the rehab when the police caught them for auto theft." Joe was slightly irritated by his brother's questionings.

"And where did Duncan go if it wasn't to the rehab?"

"I heard he had to spend a few months in a private detention facility, and after that I don't know what's happened to him," Joe said.

"From what he's doing now, I'd say he's changed a lot," Frank remarked, turning the steering wheel toward the driveway of their home.

"Maybe," Joe replied thoughtfully. "Sometimes living in a bad environment can make a person do desperate things to survive," he added quietly.

Frank couldn't believe what his brother was saying. "I think Duncan has chosen a bad choice and paid for it. There are other good ways to make a living."

"I know that," Joe retorted, "but I don't think it's as easy as you say it." He opened the door as soon as Frank pulled the van to a stop.

Frank sighed heavily by his brother's different way of thinking. Shaking his head, he climbed out of the van and picked up the box from the back seat.

Joe was already lounging on the sofa flipping through the channels on the TV when Frank came inside. By the look of Joe's face, Frank could guess there were no interesting programs at the moment. It wasn't until ten minutes later after Frank had deposited the box in his room that he heard Joe calling out his name frantically.

Thinking Joe was in trouble, Frank immediately dashed down the stairs and to the living room. "What is it? Are you all right?" he asked worriedly. He glanced around the room trying to find out the trouble. Everything seemed to be fine.

"Of course I'm all right, Frank," Joe replied, slightly impatient.

"Then why are you calling me for?"

"Look!" His brother pointed to the TV screen. "We've got to clear his name, Frank."

Frank looked at where his brother was pointing. It was the four o'clock news, and at the moment it was showing a picture of Duncan Blackwell. And he was the main suspect for a murder!