Trouble Island (Volume 22) (Hardy Boys Adventures, Band 22) - Softcover

Dixon, Franklin W.

Softcover

ISBN 10: 1534450246 ISBN 13: 9781534450240

Verlag: Aladdin, 2021

Inhaltsangabe

Brother detectives Frank and Joe cook up a new case as a series of accidents threatens a remote island in the twenty-second book in the thrilling Hardy Boys Adventures series.

When Aunt Trudy wins a competition to intern with celebrity chef Colton Spark, she invites Frank and Joe to join her on her trip to the remote Rubble Island off the coast of Maine, where she’ll be helping Colton cook for the prestigious Golden Claw Awards. They’ll be staying at the island’s beautiful Seaspray Inn where the event is being hosted, and though it’s the off-season, the boys will be free to check out the rocky beaches, learn about lobstering, and take in all the close-knit community has to offer.

Still, even before the Hardys reach the island, it becomes clear that the locals are not big fans of Colton. As the big day approaches, the Seaspray Inn encounters a series of mishaps. Is it bad luck, or is someone trying to scare Colton off? And then, the night before the awards, the Golden Claw goes missing!

But before the police can make it over from the mainland to investigate, a huge storm blows in. Cut off from the world, tensions on the island are higher than ever. Will Frank and Joe be able to figure out who’s behind the crimes before someone gets hurt? Or is this troubled island more than they can handle?

Über diesen Titel

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Franklin W. Dixon is the author of the ever-popular Hardy Boys books.

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Chapter 1: Gone with the Wind 1 GONE WITH THE WIND
Six months later

FRANK

JUSTIN LI DID NOT LOOK pleased.

“So nobody took my money,” he said, frowning up at us from the driver’s seat of his Mazda 3 in the high school parking lot. The wind started up, icy and mean, making my brother Joe and me hug ourselves and look over longingly at our own car, parked a few rows away. It was that depressing part of spring, before it warms up, when it’s just thinking about not being winter anymore.

“Well… no human did,” I corrected Justin with a little chuckle. “Is the wind a ‘body’? Does it have intention? I guess that’s a question for the philosoph—”

“You’re saying the wind blew that huge wad of cash off the table at the café, and then into the river?” he said, clearly finding the situation not the least bit funny.

“That is what the security footage from the car dealership seemed to reveal,” Joe said, lifting up his smartphone for Justin to see. “Would you like to watch it again?”

It had been really hard for us to get that footage, actually, but Justin clearly didn’t care. He shook his head, taking on a thousand-yard stare. I glanced at Joe nervously, and his expression confirmed that he too had noticed what I feared: Justin was going to the dark place. Since Justin was six foot four and at least two hundred pounds, this was troubling.

“All my barista money,” he muttered, his eyes narrowing as he stared past us. “Over four hundy. Do you know how many lattes I had to make? How many ladies I had to argue with about whether I’d put enough vanilla syrup in? That was my guitar money. Do you know how many girls I was going to get with that thing?” When Joe and I didn’t respond quickly enough, Justin looked annoyed, like we weren’t following. “The guitar,” he said.

“I can see you’re disappointed,” I replied, trying to take on the soothing tone my mom uses when she talks me down from a major blow. “But all things considered, isn’t it better that no human took your money? The wind is a bummer, sure, but it’s also a fluke. You don’t have to feel all mopey about the vicissitudes of human nature, or anything like that.”

Justin looked up at me then. From his scowl and the sharp angle of his eyebrows, it was clear he was irritated. “Vississi-what?” he asked.

“Never mind,” Joe said. “Look, Justin, we’re really sorry about your guitar money. Maybe next time, don’t carry so much cash around? And definitely don’t leave it in an envelope on an outdoor café table on a windy day.”

Justin shook his head. “If it was a dude, I could punch him, at least. You can’t punch the wind.”

This is factually untrue, but I decided not to call him on it. He didn’t seem to be in the right frame of mind. “I’m really sorry,” I said.

Justin sighed, then pulled his long legs into his Mazda. “Well, at least I didn’t pay you anything.”

“Yeah,” Joe said dryly. “At least that.”

Justin had closed the door and started up the car by then, so if he picked up on Joe’s tone, he showed no sign of it. He rolled the window back down an inch. “Thanks, I guess,” he said with another sigh before backing out of his parking space and taking off.

Joe and I both watched the spot where Justin’s car had been for a few seconds. I don’t think either of us really knew what to say.

“That was an anticlimax,” Joe finally commented.

“Yeah,” I muttered. “Good thing he didn’t pay us.”

Joe let out a hard snort. “I can’t blame him, though. There’s nothing satisfying about knowing your guitar money’s at the bottom of a muddy river and there’s nobody to blame but yourself.”

I nodded and started walking to our car. Joe followed. “We’ve had a lot of cases like that lately, though,” I complained. “?‘The wind took your money.’ ‘You slipped the note into the wrong locker.’ ‘Oh, she thought that was her guinea pig.’?”

Joe sighed. “So true,” he muttered. “We haven’t solved a real case since Lookout Key.”

After I unlocked the car, we automatically fell into our usual spots, me driving, Joe riding shotgun. I turned the key, and the radio and the heat both sputtered on. The radio was playing the same inescapable Katy Perry song—I swear it had been playing when we’d turned the car off that morning.

“It’s like everything’s on repeat around here. We need some excitement.” I pulled the car out of the spot and drove toward the parking lot exit.

“At least spring break is coming up,” Joe pointed out.

He was right. We had next week off.

“Yeah, and we have such exciting plans.”

Joe glanced at me. “Are you being sarcastic, Frank?”

I nodded. In fact, we had zero plans. “Is it working?”

“No,” Joe said bluntly. “Stop it. I’m the sarcastic one.”

“Maybe it’s time to switch things up,” I suggested. “That’s what we can work on over spring break.”

Joe groaned and looked up at the roof. “Please let something interesting happen before Frank turns into me and I turn into him.”

Back at the Hardy ranch, Aunt Trudy was cooking something in a big pot while she watched a rerun of What’s Your Flavor?, Colton Sparks’s spice-identifying game show.

She whacked her spoon against the side of the pot. “It’s coriander,” she cried as some contestant got buzzed. “Who puts marjoram in chili?”

“Fun fact!” I announced, thunking my backpack down on the kitchen table and startling Aunt Trudy. She looked over at me, less than thrilled, but I continued anyway. “Coriander is another name for cilantro, a common herb in Latin American cooking. Some people carry a gene that makes them unable to taste cilantro’s fresh, piquant flavor. To them, the herb tastes like soap.”

Aunt Trudy sighed. “Of course I know that, Frank. I’m a home chef. Now look, you’ve made me miss the answer.”

“It was coriander,” Joe said. “That Marta lady got it.”

“Hmm,” Aunt Trudy murmured, unimpressed. “She struggled with allspice earlier. Anyway, boys, help yourselves to some zucchini bread. I made too much again.”

“Ooh!” said Joe, running over to the counter and unwrapping a foil-covered block. “Wow, Aunt Trudy. There are four loaves here. And it’s not even zucchini season!”

Trudy nodded absently, focused on her show. “I was noodling with the cinnamon, trying to get the amount right. The one on the left is the best, I think.”

Joe looked at the loaf he’d unwrapped, confirming it was the right one, and then sliced off two generous helpings. He ripped a corner off one and popped it into his mouth.

“Oh yeah.” He moaned. “This is the best zucchini bread I’ve ever...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: Aladdin
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2021
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 1534450246
• ISBN 13: 9781534450240
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 176
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: Buchbär; info@buchbaer.de; ; Weberstr. 67; Osnabrück; 49084; Deutschland