Chapter Begun: 10/31/11
Hey guys! Guessy Whatttyy! THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER! Now I have created a poll on my profile and YOU guys will get to vote! The one-shots at the beginning won't be continued, but any of the other ones will be. The poll will be up until 2012, then I will begin my newest story...or maybe stories. You can also review THIS chapter and tell me what you want, ONLY THIS CHAPTER PLEASE! ;-]
YEAH!
Time Period: 2011
Ages: Frank & Nancy- 18, Joe- 17
October 31
Fairview, New York
Frank
Fairview, New York
Population: 1,313
The 'Welcome To Fairview' sign was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen in my entire life, peeling paint, graffiti and all. Spending four hours in a confined space with my brother can do that to a person.
It's especially bad when we leave at four in the morning and he's had five cups of coffee and an iPod with dead battery. Then he bounces and babbles and messes with the radio station and the heat and the windows and the locks, the seats, and anything else remotely moveable.
And yes, I was crazy enough to do this voluntarily. Three weeks ago, Joe and I received a packet of information and an invitation to come and try to solve 'The Crime of the Centaury'. Joe and I are kind of amateur detectives.
Joe was digging through the stack of papers that had brought us to Fairview with vengeance, "Hey Frank, listen to this:
"One hundred and thirty years ago on October 31, 1881 at eight A.M., five people arrived at the Harrison Mansion. None of them were ever seen alive again.
The weird part is that none of them was Mr. Harrison; they were five of the top detectives of the time.
Levi Johansen was the oldest of the bunch at fifty-six years old, he was a West Virginian who had spent the Civil War spying for the wrong side. When he was injured in 1864 at twenty-five, it ended his career and he spent the rest of his days scrounging around for jobs (mostly private detective jobs).
Thomas O'Hara was an arrogant man of 45 and the chief of police of Fairview. He was often called 'Doubting Thomas'; he had a tendency to deny anything he couldn't touch, but no one ever doubted his immense talent.
At eighteen, Mercy Franklin was one of the youngest people in the house and the only woman. The daughter of an extremely talented lawyer, Mercy grew up hanging around her father's law offices in the downtown Boston Harbor area.
Ross (eighteen) and Jonathan 'Jack' Edwards (seventeen) were two brothers who were extremely bright officers on the New York Police Department. They're exact family lineage is unknown but they might have been born in southern Maryland.
From the documentation found in the house, including a journal belonging to Mercy, the trio was all very close. The arrogant Thomas and Christopher had a sort of twisted alliance formed on war stories and alcohol," Joe held up a stack of stapled-together, photo-copied papers, "We even got a copy of the journal."
I nodded and Joe continued on reading, "Tonight, (10/31/11) will be the most memorable nights of your lives should you and your brother decide to show and brave the Curse that still hangs over the entire town of Fairview.
You're first chore is to arrive at the Harrison mansion, then you must identify this person and his or her roll in this little game. Are you ready to play?
They are:
Grace and favor
Ann-d
Secrets in Clocks,
The Yellow Herons
Soaked in river water
Figure out the Name,
Find the next clue,
Help your partner
Find you.
Sincerely, Simeon Beaushard."
"That makes no sense," I muttered as we turned on to a long, twisty driveway as rumble of thunder played in the background.
"There are different fonts used…some things are bold, some are underlined…maybe it will make more sense when we get to the house," Joe shrugged.
Ahead of us, the large Victorian mansion finally came into view. Looking better than I had expected it would, the house was a rambling, sturdy stone building that sat back from the road. It had thick woods surrounding it and a luscious garden in front.
There were three cars in the driveway ahead of us, a blue Mustang convertible, a silver Sedan, and a junky rust-red Chevy pick-up. There was one light on in the front of the house and I could see a figure pulling a bag out of the backseat of the Ford.
I cut the engine and Joe was out of the car and bounded towards the trunk of the car. "Hurry up Frank, let's get this party started!"
There was something wrong with this house. I couldn't quite place my finger on it, but there was something very off…I was beginning to wonder if this whole trip was such a good idea.
Together, Joe and I approached the house with our bags in hand. The heavy oak door was propped open despite the steady breeze that had had me pulling up the zipper on my jacket. "Hello?" I called as Joe and I stood at the doorway.
A short, silver haired man strolled casually from a room to the right of the door, "Howdy boys, y'all here to solve the 'Crime of the Century'?"
I took a couple of cautious steps inside, "Yeah, are you Mr. Beaushard?"
"Nope. He ain't showed up yet. I'm Rick Tallons, of Austen, Texas. You are you two youngins?"
"I'm Frank Hardy and that's my brother Joe…we're from Bayport, New York."
Rick laughed, "Ahh, Ross and Jack Edwards. I see."
Joe and I exchanged a look, "The two police officers who died here?"
Rick took a sip out of the glass in his hand, "Yep. The way I've got it figured somebody wants us to reenact the crime that happened here all those years ago. They're probably filmin' it or somethin'. I've got to admit, they cast a good crew."
This was getting odder by the second. "What are you talking about?"
"Didn't you read that packet of papers you got? The top five detectives of the 1881 died here 130 years ago, the top five detectives of the 2011 are here to relive it."
"Who else is here?" Joe asked, looking around the dim hallway, which was lined with dark wood, dust, and cobwebs.
Rick smiled, "Well you two are the last to arrive. Fenton Hardy's boys, supreme teen detectives are playing the Edwards brothers," Joe and I exchanged a look as Rick continued on, "then there's Chase Tibbens is playing Thomas O'Hara, the lovely Nancy Drew is Mercy Franklin, and I, of course, am Christopher Bellefonte."
That was a lot of information to take in. Joe recovered first, "Well, you've got everyone pegged."
Rich shrugged, "It wasn't meant to be hard. There are other things we gotta do."
"Like what?"
Rick grinned, "Oh you'll see. Oh, and yer partner's Miss Drew," With a wink, Rick disappeared again.
We didn't have much choice but to follow.
On a table set in the center of the room one manila envelope remained with Joe's and my name on it.
Frank and Joe Hardy
Room: 13, the blue room
Assignment: It is up to you and your partner to figure out when the five were killed, why they killed (if they were killed in the house at all), and where was Mr. Harrison during the killings.
You have twenty-four hours, let the games begin.
~S.B.
The blue room had two beds in it and rested at the end of the hall. The other's rooms were scattered down the hall. After dropping our bags off, we headed for room nine, home to our partner, Miss Nancy Drew.
Joe, the ever-ready flirt, rudely shoved me aside and knocked jauntily on the door, all the while making immature faces at me. Grow up! I mouthed.
Just then the door opened to reveal one of the most beautiful girls I have honestly ever seen. The little bit of sun that was peeking through the bare window behind her and making it look like a golden halo around her head. She had sharp blue eyes that looked as though they didn't miss much and even dressed casually in jeans and a sweatshirt, she looked stunning.
"Well. Miss Nancy Drew…I'm glad you're our partner, you're way hotter than Rick."
Nancy did a double take and so did I, usually Joe wasn't so tactless. Time for big bro to step in. "Don't listen to him. He's not very smooth when he's around pretty girls," I didn't sound much better than Joe, I cringed inwardly.
Nancy just laughed, "This is going to be fun, isn't it?"
Joe winked, "Oh yeah, I'm a real party starter."
I shook my head, "Like I said, ignore him. But you'll also have to excuse my rudeness, I'm Frank Hardy and that's my brother Joe."
Nancy shook both our hands with a grin, "Great to meet both of you. Do you want to get started?"
She didn't mess around. "That's fine with me."
Stepping out into the hallway, Nancy closed her door firmly behind her and fell into step between Joe and I. "So, I was thinking that we should start outside. If there were anybodies around here, they would be buried out in the wood somewhere; the house and the basement were searched."
I said, "That makes sense."
Joe interrupted me, "So, how long have you been here?"
Nancy rolled her eyes, "I've been waiting for you two to show up for forty-five minutes."
As much as I wanted to know more about Nancy, I also wanted to get started outside before the eminent rain came. "Maybe we should walk and talk."
"Dude, that's what we're doing!" Joe smirked, pushing me out of the way and walking next to Nancy.
I rolled my eyes and stepped to the left of Nancy, listening as she answered Joe's questions about where she was from, if she was single, if she had any single friends, and what she thought about this case. From the serious flirting going on, my little bro's focus was going to be less than perfect.
Another Chapter 2 Preview:
The rain that I had seen coming finally hit the fan with so much rain I could hardly see Nan's bright red hair. Our two mile trek back to the house left us looking like we had gone swimming instead on hiking.
Nancy pulled off her sweatshirt and rung it out with a frown, "That wasn't as productive as I thought it would be."
Joe nodded AND shook his head like a wet dog (a great talent) while I dumped water out of my shoes. "Let's say we meet back here in five."
Nancy gave me a thumbs up and dashed up the stairs, Joe and I just a couple steps behind.
NANCY
My goose bumps had goose bumps by the time i got to my room. Throwing open my closet, I gasp at what wasn't there. Namely my clothes.
There was one blue dress hanging in it, one that looked like it was pretty old. Pulling it out, there was a note pinned to the collar.
Mercy didn't wear jeans and sweat shirts.
~S.B.
I don't like this chapter very much...it won't come out like I want it to. If this is a chosen story, I would probably rework it a bit.
Review please!
~S