A Brief Note Before We Begin: In my personal Nanciverse, Bayport and River Heights are neighboring towns. It just made things easier. Nancy and Joe are adults and do adult things so if that's going to bother you, don't read.

Chapter One: Kate's Mystery.

A dank mixture of wind-blown dead leaves and heavy rain slashed against the windshield of George Fayne's Jeep. In the passenger seat, titian-haired detective Nancy Drew shivered and wrapped her chilly fingers appreciatively around her drive-through coffee cup.

"I always thought T.S. Eliot was wrong. It's November that's the cruellest month, not April," she remarked.

"I'd have to say February," George replied.

Nancy nodded. "I concede." She paused, watching what scenery there was go by.

"George, have we already been down this street?"

"No," George growled. "Maybe. I'm not sure. I hate these developments."

"Try taking a left," Nancy suggested.

"I think that's what I did last time."

"No, we went right. I remember seeing that red car."

George shrugged and turned left. The road came promptly to a dead end. "Damn!" George said, wrenching the vehicle into a choppy, frustrated three-point turn.

"I'm sorry."

"Not your fault. Damn suburbia."

Nancy took a sip of her coffee. "So, tell me more about this Army buddy of yours," she said, hoping to lighten George's mood.

"Army buddy?" George snorted. "You make us sound like a pair of old men who like to hang out on a park bench and compare stories about Normandy."

"Former colleague then? Fellow veteran? Sister-in-arms?" Nancy teased.

"Lowry. Well, Lowry-Fielding now. Or Kate, I guess. We went through basic training together and ended up sharing a dorm room for a few years in South Korea." George had enlisted after high school, served her four years, and returned home to pursue her dream of running her own martial arts studio. True to her laconic nature, she never spoke much about her Army experience or the friends she had made; but over the years Nancy had gathered that George had really enjoyed her time in the service.

"She's married to a reservist," George added. "He's a dentist in civilian life. Hence the pricey cookie-cutter house in this godforsaken fungus of a development."

"And she has a mystery for us!" Nancy said happily.

"I already told you all I know, Nance. She was pretty vague on the phone."

"Well, then, drive faster." Nancy joked.

"I'm about to drive us right back to River Heights," George said crossly.

"Hang on. There! Rhododendron Loop!" Nancy cried, pointing to a street sign. George stomped the brake and turned hard into the road, tires squealing.

"Don't understand why they make the road signs so small," she muttered. "Or why every damn house and every damn street has to be identical."

"932 Rhododendron. There, George. The one with the bright blue mailbox."

George swung her Jeep into the driveway, face brightening a bit. "Trust Kate to have the only unique mailbox for miles. Are those daisies painted on the side of it?"

"Affirmative," Nancy said, wrestling with her seatbelt. "Is that a problem?"

George shrugged. "It's just a little...I don't know. It's weird."

"You're not exactly in uniform anymore either," Nancy pointed out.

"Yeah, yeah." George was already ringing the doorbell. As Nancy came up the steps behind her, the door swung open wide and a scruffy terrier-type dog rocketed out, followed by a toddler in footie pajamas.

"Levi! Don't go out there without shoes!" The child's mother swooped in and caught him up before he reached his objective, which seemed to be the large puddle at the bottom of the steps. "Come in, come in," she called. "Don't stand there in the rain."

Nancy and George stepped into the hall, closing the door behind them. Kate set down her toddler and came forward to greet them. Nancy's first impression was of softness: wavy golden hair, blue eyes, pink lipstick, a flowered cardigan, and a belly curved heavily with pregnancy.

"George!" Kate exclaimed, pulling an astonished George into a rib-creaking hug.

"Kate!" she said helplessly. Kate, having mercy, let her extract herself from the embrace. She turned to Nancy, extending her hand.

"Kate Lowry-Fielding. It's really great to meet you, Nancy. I'm a big fan."

"It's nice to meet you, too," Nancy said, holding her own hand up apologetically to display the bandages. "Forgive me. My hand is out of commission right now."

"That looks painful. What happened?"

"Bit of a run-in with some broken glass during my last case," Nancy said, downplaying the incident. A struggle with a pair of car thieves, cornered and desperate, had culminated in Nancy exiting an office via the plate glass window. She had other cuts, but her right hand and wrist had been the worst. Beneath the bandages were several neat lines of stitching and an angry blue-green bruise.

Kate grimaced. "That sounds ugly. Come have a seat, girls. George, you haven't changed a bit."

"You have," George said.

"Nah, I'm the same old Kate. I just got tired of being tough all the time," Kate said comfortably. She steered her little boy toward the doorway, summoned the little dog with an authoritative whistle that seemed to put George a bit more at her ease, and led the way through to the living room.

"Make yourselves comfortable, please," she said. "I'll be in the kitchen for a moment. Levi, stay here with Mommy's friends while Mommy gets your snack."

"Is that a train track I see?" Nancy said, kneeling to the little boy's level. Evidently any admirer of trains was trustworthy in Levi's book. He toddled right over to her and began showing her his engines and cars. George paced the length of the room, studying the framed family photographs on the wall.

"Stop pacing, Fayne," Kate called from the kitchen. "I'm still me." She returned, carrying a tray with a plate of cookies, a sippy cup of milk, three mugs of coffee, sugar, and creamer.

"Never got service like this while we were rooming together," George said, perching on the arm of the loveseat. Nancy sat beside her. Kate settled onto the couch with some relief and waited for Levi to scramble up so she could hand him his milk and a cookie.

"I think you mean 'thank you,'" Kate shot back, grabbing a cookie for herself. "Sit back, woman. Have a cookie. Stop looking around like you're figuring out an escape route."

"George doesn't handle change well," Nancy said, stirring cream into her coffee.

"I like to assess things before accepting them. That's all," George said with dignity.

"Oh, I know George of old," Kate said cheerfully. "Undemonstrative, suspicious, and loyal to the bitter end. We'll be okay. Right, Fayne?"

"Any change that produces cookies like this, I can live with," George said.

Nancy couldn't wait any longer. "So, Kate. George tells me you have a mystery for us."

"I do," Kate said. She leaned in conspiratorially, as far as her swollen belly would allow. "Someone has been digging holes in my backyard," she said. Nancy waited, but there seemed to be no more information forthcoming.

"Digging holes," she repeated.

"And filling them in again," Kate said, eyes twinkling with mischief. She knew she was teasing Nancy. "That's the whole story, girls. It's been going on for a week now. I wake up in the morning and there's a fresh hole. Empty," she added, anticipating Nancy's next question. "They're not hiding anything, or burying anything. Just digging and filling in. The police were polite about it, but they can't exactly waste resources on this. Post a guy in my yard all night just in case someone digs a little hole and fills it back in? They're not even stealing dirt. They also pointed out that it is very likely a dog digging holes."

"But you're not buying that."

Kate looked at Nancy. "No. Not unless a dog wears about a size 12 men's sneaker." She laughed "Plus, the edges of the holes are too regular. I'm positive this is human activity. But I'm not exactly in any shape to pull off a stakeout myself right now." She smoothed a hand over the curve of her belly.

"Where's Miles?" George asked.

"Afghanistan. He deployed last month. I haven't wanted to worry him about this."

Nancy looked at Kate, sensing the vast reservoirs of strength hidden beneath the pretty clothes and the lipstick and the curls. "We'll handle it," she said. "I'm glad you called."

"I can only assume they're looking for something," Kate told her. "Levi, sweetie, don't tip your milk. It's too deliberate to be random vandalism. And if they were digging a hole to hide something there would only be one hole. Plus, you know, there would have been something hidden at the bottom."

"What could be hidden on this property? Do you know anything of its history?"

"When we moved in three years ago the house was brand new. I don't know what was on the property before the developers bought it."
"So, obviously a stakeout is in order," George said, glancing at Nancy.

"Yes," Nancy agreed. "You said the digger always comes while you're sleeping, Kate? What time do you go to bed?"

"Usually around midnight."

"Okay. George and I will come by a little before then. We won't come up to the door because that will give us away. We'll just park somewhere close by and lurk outside your house for a few hours."

Kate laughed. "Thanks, girls. I really appreciate it. Come in whenever you're through lurking and I'll make you a hot drink. I'm up at all hours anyway."

"Lock your doors," Nancy instructed. "George and I will knock like this if we need to come in." And she demonstrated by knocking out "SOS" in Morse code on the coffee table with her good hand. Levi copied her, banging away enthusiastically with his little fists, and the commotion made the little dog sit up and begin barking in short, sharp terrier barks.

"I'm sorry!" Nancy called over the din. "I forgot how toddlers operate."

"No worries!" Kate yelled back. "Pippin, sit. Lie down. Levi, buddy, your Morse code is a little rusty. Go grab Mommy her flashlight."

************************************************************************

George slid behind the wheel of her car, looking indignant. "First Bess and now Kate. You can't turn around in this town without bumping into a pregnant chick." She fixed Nancy with a sudden suspicious stare. "Please tell me you're not pregnant, Nan."

"I'm not pregnant."

"Positive? Because these things always happen in threes and I am damn sure I'm not the third one."

"Positive. Absolutely, beyond a shadow of a doubt, just finished my period yesterday, positive."

"Good." There was a pause as George wended her way back out through the tangle of identical streets.

"She's still tough," George said finally, and that was all she had to say on the subject. "You want me to pick you up tonight?"

"No, I'll have Joe drop me off at your studio, if that's okay. It's family dinner night at his parents' and I don't know how long we'll be over there."

"That works for me. I'm off to enjoy my last dinner alone. Tom's parents are dropping Myra off at my place bright and early tomorrow morning."

"Oh, that's right," Nancy said, intrigued. Bess and Tom had taken off earlier that day for their vacation in Hawaii- Bess called it a "babymoon," but neither Nancy nor George could use the trendy portmanteau word without rolling their eyes. "Are you ready for a full week of babysitting?"

"I think so," George said. "I have Bess's jogging stroller and a six-pack of Regan's homebrew. I'm all set to experience a week in the life of a single parent. How did you get out of this, again?"

"I'm injured," Nancy said, grinning. "And you're her favorite auntie."

"You lucky dog." George flicked her turn signal. "Honestly, I think it'll be fine. She's a good kid and she has plenty of grandparents around in case I need backup."

"Absolutely. You've got this," Nancy agreed. "And I'll try not to keep you out too late tonight!"