Tying her dark, silky hair back into a ponytail, Jenny pulled her new lemon cotton dress over her head to reveal a miniscule white bikini. Reaching down, she methodically gave her legs a thick coat of sunscreen, stretching to massage it carefully into her back and face. The day was sweltering hot. Bright sunlight poked through the thick blanket of tree limbs and foliage, casting rapidly moving shadows on the stony ground. The air was still and sticky after hours of baking in the sun. When the silence was broken by a snapping sound, Jenny whirled to find her boyfriend covertly taking photos of her.

"Hey Steve," Jenny asked, flirting, "what are you doing?"

"Just taking some pictures of my gorgeous girlfriend," Steve teased her. "Is that a crime?"

"No," Jenny answered. "How about you take some photos of this instead?" Jenny adjusted her bikini top, posing seductively.

"Ooh, hot," Steve replied with a whistle, his camera clicking away. "Definitely some good stuff." He snapped the camera off and slid it back into its bag, then walked over to his girlfriend and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close for a kiss. "You're amazing," he whispered, his breath tickling her ear, his lips dotting kisses up her smooth neck.

Smiling, Jenny pulled away, retying the string of her bikini top. "I think you're amazing too, but we'd better not get too carried away out here. Anyone could see us."

"It'd be worth it," Steve promised, his hand lingering on her sun-kissed skin.

Laughing, Jenny shook her head and gazed out at the sparkling blue of the lake. Her skin felt sticky with sweat after the long day, and she ached for the relief of the water. "I'm going for a swim," she said. "Want to come? I'll make it worth your while." Her brown eyes gleamed with a mischievous sparkle.

"I can't," Steve replied, obviously disappointed that he couldn't take her up on it. "I need those photos for my class tomorrow. Some squirrels were running around at the bottom of the hill, I can probably get in some good shots."

"Well, okay," Jenny pouted. "If you don't mind, I'm going to stay here. The water looks gorgeous."

"I don't know," Steve said. "It's awfully quiet out here. What if something happens?"

"Like what?" Jenny asked, rolling her eyes. "A squirrel tries to kill us or something? Don't be ridiculous. It's perfectly safe." Jenny dismissed his fears with a wave of her hand.

"If you say so," Steve said doubtfully, pulling the camera out of the bag again. "I'll be back soon." He kissed her on the cheek, and she watched until he had vanished to the other side of the hill.

Her first dive was cool and deep, the icy water chilling her burned skin. She felt refreshed, fully awake, and when she resurfaced after her swim she rolled onto her back and closed her eyes, enjoying the sun on her face. Soon Steve would be back, and she'd be able to cajole him into the water. She smiled, lifting her head to smooth her hair back, when her draining ears caught the snap of twigs.

A chill entirely unrelated to the cool water buoying her up, swept over Jenny. "Steve, is that you?" she called, a little nervously. Now who's being the sissy? she chastised herself, but scrutinized the bank anyway.

A raccoon burst out of the underbrush, and Jenny caught her breath in surprise, but leaned back into the water again. She ducked under, making sure she could touch the bottom, before she decided to head back to the shore and wait for Steve to come back. She surfaced to the sound of footsteps, carrying through the stillness.

"Steve?"

No answer but the continued footsteps. Jenny had to force herself to wade through the water to the shore, telling herself over and over that it was just her boyfriend playing a trick on her. By the time her feet struck the rocky edge, she had her arms wrapped tight around her, shivering in the chill, and she called again, knowing that if she sounded desperate enough, Steve would give up the game and answer her. When she saw a flash of red through the foliage, the bobbing of his ballcap, she almost collapsed in relief.

In her haste to reach Steve, she tripped over an exposed tree root and fell hard. Clutching her ankle, her face twisted in pain, she slowly tried to stand, keeping her weight on her uninjured foot. "Steve, come on," she whined, her voice high with nervous fear and irritation at him for keeping this up. "I hurt my ankle and it's killing me."

The form topped by the red ballcap appeared around a bend in the path, but Jenny's blood turned to ice when she didn't recognize the face beneath, the bloodstained t-shirt, the expression of deranged anger.

"Where's Steve?" Jenny demanded, aware of how defenseless she looked, in her tiny white bikini with her knee bent, keeping her ankle off the ground. Her voice was shaking, her face streaked with tears after her fall.

"Steve?" the man asked, mockingly. Her palm was braced against a tree trunk, to help support her weight; he grabbed her hand, his other coming up to trace a dirty fingernail down her face. "You won't need to worry about him anymore."

Jenny just stared, horrified, hopping awkwardly to keep herself upright.

"You'll be with him soon."

At the sudden glint of the knife, Jenny's eyes widened, and her terrified screams resounded, unanswered, through the empty woods.

--

Smearing some sweet strawberry jam onto her sesame bagel, nineteen-year-old Nancy Drew stifled a yawn with the back of her hand. As her father rustled the newspaper, she poured herself a mug of hot coffee, then leaned over to kiss him good morning.

"Morning, Nan," he replied warmly. "How are you?"

"Tired," Nancy admitted, stifling another yawn hard on the heels of the first. She dropped to the other seat at the table before taking a bite of her bagel. Weak early sunlight sliced through the kitchen blinds, and the radio released a reassuring drone from the corner of the counter. Nancy and her father settled into an easy conversation, sipping their coffee contentedly.

"Busy today?" Nancy asked, peering over the rim of her mug to look at her father.

"Swamped," he confirmed wearily. "I have two clients in court today, and I'm wall-to-wall with meetings all afternoon. What about you? How are you getting along with the Chicago PD?"

As a student in the forensic science program at Blake College, Nancy was required as part of her criminology coursework to spend eight weeks working in the field, with police detectives. The rest of her class had been thrilled at the prospect. Nancy had been thrilled just to have proper access, for once.

"Fine," Nancy shrugged. "It's actually kind of slow. I don't know what I was expecting, but it was definitely something more exciting than this."

"That won't do you any harm," Carson joked. "You get into enough trouble as it is."

"I do not!" Nancy exclaimed indignantly, then fell silent as the newsanchor's broadcast was interrupted by the breaking-news theme.

"Two local teens have been reported missing today. Jenny Gray, eighteen, and a high school senior, and her boyfriend, Steve Conner, were at Lake Michigan yesterday, but never made it home. A bag and several items of clothing have been recovered from the lakeside. If you have any information about their whereabouts, please call your local sheriff's department."

"That's strange," Nancy mused, taking another sip of her coffee. "If they ran away, wouldn't they have taken their clothes with them?"

"Stop right there, Nancy," her father said, holding his hands up. "You have enough on your plate without getting involved in any disappearances. Teenagers fall off the radar all the time, and more often than not they turn up again in a few days."

"I guess you're right."

"I know I'm right," Carson replied, draining the last of his coffee. "Now I'd better go, or I'm going to be late." He dropped a kiss on his daughter's head before gathering up his briefcase.

--

Swinging her blue Mustang into a vacant spot, Nancy ran her fingers through her long reddish-blonde hair and flung her cream leather bag over her shoulder. Despite the early hour, the police department was already bustling with activity. Harassed police offers were hunched over their desks, scribbling paperwork and answering perpetually ringing phones. Every surface was littered with discarded coffee mugs and stacks of files and papers.

Detective Harris was on the phone when Nancy slid unobtrusively into her office. Nancy smiled and Harris returned it, gesturing for Nancy to take a seat. Detective Harris was attractive, slim with shoulder-length brown hair and large almond-shaped grey eyes. As soon as she had replaced the receiver in the cradle, she turned to address Nancy.

"The chief is already throwing a fit about those missing teenagers," Harris said, sifting through some papers.

"There's no sign of them yet?"

Harris shook her head. "Honestly, it doesn't look good. Their wallets were untouched and still at the scene."

"That does sound bad," Nancy agreed, chewing thoughtfully at the end of her pen. "Maybe something will turn up."

"Now," the detective said, slipping on her glasses and shifting another stack of files, "Detective Casey is bringing in the boyfriend, from that stabbing incident downtown last night."

"I saw that on the news last night, how's the girl doing?"

"Not great," Detective Harris answered. "She lost a lot of blood, and they're not expecting her to make it. Anyway, I'll be interviewing the boyfriend later, and you can observe if you'd like."

"Really?" Nancy asked, her eyes lighting.

"Really," Harris confirmed. "I know things have been pretty quiet around here the last few days, but that's the way it goes. Next week we'll probably be swamped."

--

Nancy lay contentedly on the cream couch that night, curled up cozily against Ned, his arm wrapped tight around her shoulder and her long, tanned legs folded under her. Ned's parents had gone on a cruise to celebrate their wedding anniversary, leaving the house empty, and the two of them were spending as much time alone together as they could. The spacious room was lit only by a few glowing candles, and the remains of their takeout pizza lay cooling on the coffee table.

"Thanks for dinner," Nancy said gratefully, reaching up to kiss Ned on the cheek. "I was starving."

"Don't think I won't expect repayment later," Ned teased her.

"Oh really, and what would you mean by that, Ned Nickerson?" Nancy replied, eyes widened with feigned innocence.

"This," Ned said, pulling her on top of him so that she straddled his waist. The hem of her miniskirt high against her thigh, Nancy leaned in willingly when Ned pulled her down for a kiss. He buried his hand in her hair, and she shivered when she felt his warm breath on her skin. "You look gorgeous."

Ned's hand inched up under her top, and Nancy's breath suddenly caught. Arching, she moaned as Ned ducked in, trailing kisses against her neck. He traced one fingertip down the line of her spine before letting his hand curve warm against the side of her upper thigh, inching up to slide under her skirt.

Nancy stilled for an instant, then sat up, pushing his hand away. "We have to stop."

"Why?" he asked, reaching for her again, and she sighed when his mouth found hers. "Feels too good to stop," he mumbled. She stilled again when his palm rested warm at the small of her back, but when he didn't move, she relaxed back against him. Until she could feel him working at the clasp of her bra.

"Ned, we need to stop," she told him forcefully, pushing herself up again, then entirely off his lap. She smoothed her skirt down as he sat up, his hair rumpled, and she leaned down to kiss his cheek.

"You know I love you. I just don't think we're ready."

"Okay," Ned agreed mournfully, giving her a mock pout. "But your skirt and I need to have a talk, if I'm ever going to see it again." He gaze her shoulder a tight squeeze.

After a few more minutes of making out on the couch, Nancy sat up and glanced at the clock on the mantle. "I'd better go," she said. "Dad will be getting worried about me."

He walked her out to her car, and soon their steps slowed until he put his arms around her one last time. "Love you, Nancy," he said, kissing her softly.

"Love you too," Nancy responded, returning his kiss before climbing into her car. As soon as he was out of sight, she dismissed the familiar loneliness she always felt just after leaving him, and turned the radio up. Save a few streetlights, the houses in her neighborhood were in total darkness, their occupants tucked fast asleep in their beds. Parked cars stood in driveways, and bicycles, footballs, and scooters lay abandoned on the lawns, forgotten by their owners.

As soon as Nancy turned into her own driveway, the front door opened to reveal her father. Alarmed, Nancy switched off her headlights and swung out of the car.

"Thank God you're all right," her father said, his expression relieved. "I've been calling you for an hour."

"My phone's on silent," Nancy realized aloud, guiltily. "Sorry for worrying you so much, I didn't realize how late it was."

"It's okay," her father said, giving her a hug. "Another girl's been reported missing and I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Sorry," Nancy repeated, squeezing him hard before he released her. "What was reported about the girl?" she asked, as she followed him inside, her keen blue eyes sparkling with interest.

"Not much," her father shrugged, clearly coming down off his nervous high. "Another eighteen year old, she left a friend's house and in the five minutes' walk between. It's..."

"Wow," Nancy breathed, not even bothering to take off her purse as she settled on the couch, in front of the newscast.

"...all over the news," her father finished, wryly. "As you can see. I'll make us some hot chocolate, maybe there'll be an update."