This is a long story. Frank and Joe Hardy do appear, but only briefly. An L&O: SVU character also appears, but also in a cameo role, so I don't consider this a crossover. If you aren't familiar with SVU, the character won't throw you off, and you won't miss anything.
This falls at an unspecified point after the Nancy Drew Files, and On Campus never happened.
The rating is what I'd consider PG-13, but only because this is a toned-down version of the original. If there are any awkward cuts or scenes which end abruptly, allusions which don't make any sense, it could be due to that fact. If you find any, let me know.
This story includes consentual nonexplicit heterosexual sex between adults, allusions to nonconsentual heterosexual sex between adults/rape, adult situations, alcohol use, and coarse language. If you find any of these offensive, please do not proceed. That having been said, the explicit version is available on another site.
This one is my baby. Be gentle, please.
"Start over, Bess."
"What do you mean, start over? That's all there is to it."
"So you're telling me that—"
"Yes. They had a fight, and Jamie decided—"
"To go be a mail order bride."
"I don't think it was quite like that, though. I think... well, you know how people get mad and say things in the heat of the moment..."
Nancy took a long sip of her lemonade and sat back. Around them, the mall food court was buzzing with the Saturday afternoon crowd. She shook her head, tossing her red-gold hair from her forehead. "Poor Daniel. He was such a sweetheart in high school. Remember when Tori was sick so he dressed up as the mascot—"
"And gave the little kids rides on his back and roared? That was so adorable." Bess Marvin laughed at the memory.
"I thought— weren't they engaged?"
"Well, it sure seemed like it."
Nancy chewed on her straw thoughtfully. "How— how does one even go about being a mail order bride?"
"Well, you know how Jamie was working in the classified section at the Morning Record. They get some ads like that. And Daniel said that she'd read a particularly cool one, somewhere on an island like Tahiti or something. She'd joked that she'd go out there and lead the guy on for a while, get a good tan out of it at least. And I guess that was the first thing she thought of."
And that was all they said about it.
Until two weeks had gone by.
And Jamie was reported missing.
"I guess I'm just in shock, Nancy. I can hardly believe she isn't here, much less that she's missing."
Daniel looked as if he hadn't slept in days. His eyes were bloodshot and he looked as though he hadn't showered or shaved in a while either. He, Nancy, Bess, and George Fayne were sitting just outside the police station. Nancy put a hand on his shoulder in comfort. "So I assume since you called me that you feel there is a way I can help somehow?"
He sighed. "Well, I know your background in detective work. Even in high school you were solving random mysteries around campus. I just have a feeling that you'd be able to help me find Jamie... wherever she is."
George, who had previously been annoyed when Daniel's call to Nancy's cell phone had delayed their daily workout, now felt a tug of sympathy. "Don't worry, Daniel. Nancy will find her, and Bess and I will help all we can, too." Bess nodded her head in agreement.
Nancy agreed, but deep in her stomach she felt a sense of dread she couldn't quite explain. What had happened to Jamie? What lay in store for all of them?
"We have everything ready for you at the station, Nancy. If you're sure you still want to go through with this."
"I'm sure. Thanks, Chief McGinnis." Nancy hung up the phone and turned back to her longtime boyfriend, Ned Nickerson, who sat on the couch next to her. His jaw was clenched angrily.
"Nan, I'm only going to be home for a few months. You have no idea how long this is going to last. You're not even sure if she actually did go out there."
"I know you're not going to be home for long. But Jamie— Jamie could be in trouble. Just imagine if you were Daniel. Wouldn't you want any help you could?"
"I'm about to be Daniel," Ned said wryly. "Waiting for you to come home, since you won't let me go with you."
"It took Bess and George long enough to convince me to take them. I don't want anyone in danger, at least not for any longer than we have to be."
"All the more reason for you to take me with you."
Nancy glanced at him, incredulous. "I can't exactly pose as a potential bride with my boyfriend hanging around, can I?"
"No," Ned said, taking Nancy's face into his hands. "But you can with a jealous ex-boyfriend hanging about."
"A jealous ex-boyfriend with whom I need lots of heart-to-heart talks. On moonlit beaches." Nancy was grinning.
"Shall we stage another public breakup?" Ned mused aloud, remembering the brief duration of his engagement to Jessica.
"I think it can wait a few minutes, don't you?" Nancy replied, drawing his face to hers.
"How dare you! How dare you even say that!" Ned and Nancy were in the Target parking lot. Tons of people were milling around, many of them pausing to see the action.
"Oh, yeah, I'm way out of line, Nancy. Just because I saw you wrapped up in another guy's arms I shouldn't think twice about it. Yeah. Right." Any casual observer would think Nancy and Ned were a regular couple having a spat. But if one looked more closely, one could see the glint of amusement in Ned's eye as he stood apart from Nancy, "sulking."
"I've told you over and over Tom is just a friend! Why can't you see that? Besides, I didn't flip out when you hugged George goodbye last week. Come to think of it, you two have been pretty friendly lately. Is there something going on that I don't know about?"
"Even if there was you wouldn't notice! You're so wrapped up in your little detective work you don't give a damn about anything else!" Nancy paused. She knew her sleuthing had gotten in the way of their relationship on several occasions and Ned hadn't been completely honest about how much it hurt him. Was he venting his real feelings now? She decided not to think about it and just finish the make-believe argument.
"If what I do hurts you so much, maybe we shouldn't even be together! I never want to see you again, you macho, jealous bastard!" With that, she walked away quickly, hoping the "bastard" part hadn't been too strong.
When she got in her car down the street, she called him on her cell phone. "It wasn't too much, was it?"
Ned paused before replying. "No." He sighed. "I still don't like this idea. But I understand. I love you, Nan."
"I love you too, Ned." Nancy's eyes welled up with tears as she hung up.
"Okay, I need your opinion on this. Which one?" Bess held up two bathing suits for inspection. One was a modestly-cut black tank. The other was a string bikini that showed Bess's recent tan to anyone who might care to know about it.
George glared at her watch. "Bess, we're gonna be late."
"We're gonna be later if you don't just pick one."
"Fine. But why don't you just pack them both?"
"I don't have the room."
George's jaw actually dropped. "Are you trying to tell me you only have room for one swimsuit?"
Bess nodded.
"Take the bikini, then. Nancy might end up relenting and letting us go undercover too."
From downstairs, they both heard the blast of the taxi's horn. "We don't have all day!" Nancy yelled.
"That's all we have," Bess muttered, cramming the bikini into an outside compartment. "It's freaking 4am and I haven't had any coffee yet."
The cabbie had just wrestled another suitcase in the trunk when Bess came down with her last bag and a forced smile. His eyes got big as he pushed the lid down. "Look, sweets, that'll have to be in the backseat."
"That's fine."
George was already leaning over the bucket seat to look at the papers in Nancy's lap. "Damn, Chief McGinnis really came through, didn't he."
"Dossiers on all the men who expressed any interest in Jamie once she got there. Including pictures."
Bess reached over and took one reverently. "Nan... please, please, please let me pump this one for information."
George rolled her eyes. "All the info you'll get from that guy will be if he talks in his sleep." She winced when Bess smacked her.
"So are you saying that these guys basically hang out there?"
"Most of them do." Nancy shuffled through the papers on her lap. "I mean, the agency pays for the girls to go out there, and what guy wouldn't want to have an instant honeymoon? But some of the guys I have info on just have representatives on the island."
"Are we talking about CEOs or something?"
Nancy looked up, her eyes the same color as the lightening sky. "CEOs, men with private fortunes in the millions and billions, even guys who have some extra money and absolutely no luck picking up women."
Bess looked at the picture in her lap. "So if this guy's not loaded..."
"That's right. He probably has some heinous personal hygiene problem. Or a lisp." George laughed at Bess's dismayed expression.
"No, I think that guy's loaded. His grandfather has a coffee export business in Venezuela, if I remember correctly."
Bess settled back, pulling her hat lower on her head. "All right then. I know all I need to, now. Wake me when we get there."
"Hey, you're blocking my sun." Bess rolled onto her back and shaded her eyes, simultaneously adjusting her bikini top. "Oh. Hi Ned."
"Working vacation?"
George clapped a hand over her mouth. "You could say that."
Bess flipped George off, then gestured to the palm trees to her left. "Nancy's in the cabana. I think she's scoping out some potential suspects, so you might wanna wait."
"Got any more space on that towel?"
Bess shoved at George. "Scooch over, man."
Ned stretched out on his stomach and started scooping sand into a pile. "So, how's it been?"
Bess sighed and put her sunglasses back on. "Slow. Sweaty."
George cackled. "That's the way you wanted it, cuz."
Bess sighed. "Anyway, yeah. We go to the club and make contact with the guys, but Nancy hasn't found any sign of Jamie anywhere. She showed up, and about twenty-four hours later, there was no sign of her. Hotel room cleaned out and everything."
"Have you guys found out who she made contact with?"
"Oh, the guys found Jamie quite hot. I think the waitresses said she talked to a lot of people. Juan Varez, Cecil Hardesty, John Edward Wallace—"
Ned interrupted George's list of names. "The John Edward Wallace? He's here?"
"Him and a lot of other guys."
"Well, look who we have here," came a voice, just as a shadow passed over Ned. He lifted some paperclipped notes from the sand and brushed them off, then flipped through them, elaborately careless.
"You wouldn't be... Nancy Carnegie, would you? Because you come highly recommended by the concierge."
"You wouldn't be Edmund Lewis, heir to a fortune's worth of throat lozenges, would you? Because if you're not, we have nothing to talk about."
"Why don't you come back to my room and discuss this over some champagne and filet mignon?"
"Why don't I slip into something more comfortable?"
"So, um, yeah. Find out anything?" Bess interrupted impatiently.
"Tammy says Juan is hung like a horse and not here for anything other than to let as many girls know that as possible. Also, the esteemed Mr. Wallace has a penchant for coconut rum and late-night parties."
"And here I was stocking up on Bacardi." Bess pouted, then laughed. "As many girls as possible, huh..."
"And Jamie was seen talking to every guy at the bar. She didn't leave with anyone, so either no one picked her up or she made arrangements to meet a guy later. A couple of them have alibis, but this is the kind of place where an alibi is being able to produce a stripper's thong."
"Speaking of, Miss Carnegie, what are you wearing?"
"In about ten minutes I won't be wearing anything. I really need to take a shower. Interrogation is exhausting."
"I'd be remiss if I didn't offer my facilities."
"Mr. Lewis, I'd be shocked and offended if you didn't."
Nancy grinned at the tall, tan man dancing in front of her and swung her hips a little bit more. As he moved in closer, Nancy kept staring at the same point over his shoulder and gave Ned a look he knew was meant only for him.
Everything in the room was dark but her. She shimmered; the blonde streaks highlighting her reddish hair, the metallic tank top with silver chains for straps, the glitter brushed over her darkwash bellbottoms, even the paint on her toenails reflected the light from the disco ball. The guy twirled her and Ned had to fight an instinctive immediate response, to catch her as she fell out of it and dance with her the same way.
"Ned? Over here."
Ned's fist unclenched as the guy leaned over Nancy; she nodded to some whispered request, her body still moving lightly to the music, and he walked over to the bar, maybe to get them another round of drinks. His eyes focused on the brunette before him. "Sorry. And it's Edmund, remember?"
"'Edmund' wouldn't be acting like that," George reminded him lightly. Her black top was nowhere near revealing, but her leopard print miniskirt stopped a good six inches above her knee. With stilettos, she was almost as tall as he was. "And Edmund had better get me out of here quick. These shoes are about to kill me."
"I can't," he said, with little apology in his voice.
George sighed. "Then I'll at least get us some more drinks. Another one for you?"
"Rum and coke, and tell him to go heavier on the rum this time."
George nodded and headed off toward the bar. Ned could only manage to tap his foot to the music as Nancy grabbed the Smirnoff longneck from the interloper and threw her head back, laughing at some comment he'd made. When he moved in close to her again, she took a swig of her drink and looked over at Ned again. He shivered, and his fingers curled into fists.
On the other side of the room, five guys simultaneously groaned in agony as Bess leaned back and chalked her pool cue. "What's the matter, boys?"
"'Oh, what does this do?'" one of the guys mimicked as he walked away. "What a sucker. Man."
Nancy noticed the lack of noise first, the cessation of the constant clink of glasses at the bar, the hush that partially drew over the crowd. The doors had barely made any noise, but there was a man, tall, muscular, with a face like a greek god. Nancy raised an eyebrow with the barest hint of speculation in her mind. But then...
Through the frosted glass she saw the black silk shirt first, the barest hint of tanned skin. And there he was. If the previous man was a greek god, this was a spanish conquistador, all hot eyes and five o'clock shadow and muscles to spare. Nancy reached up and closed her mouth, her eyes following the line of his open shirt down to the barest shadow at his navel without her mind's bidding.
When a tall icy blonde walked up to him the guys of the room started back their chatter, while the girls shook their heads to clear them and tried to concentrate on what could possibly be more important than how to get into this guy's hotel room. Nancy tossed back a good third of her drink before she trusted herself to look in Ned's direction again. When she did she saw the question in George's eyes and nodded.
"What say we go somewhere a little more... private?" the guy asked. Nancy had learned his name was Brent, and that he was a charmer, but he held nothing on the merest gaze of the man in black silk... Nancy shook her head again.
"But it's not even ten-thirty, I don't even have a buzz yet."
"Is that what you've been waiting for? Let me go back to the bar and get you something with a little more kick."
Nancy shook her head and hefted the bottle. "No, this is fine. Really. I just want to keep dancing, okay?"
Ned wasn't even bothering to keep up the pretense anymore. Now that George was moving through the crowd toward the new guy, he stood, still as a rock and tensed, fists clenched at his sides.
"Hey, you two wanna contribute?" a voice came, with the unsteady wobble of liquor in it. Nancy turned to see Bess, still with her pool cue, red dress sliding dangerously down from one arm. The sequins, applied with a liberal hand, flashed as she shifted her weight. "Those guys over there are betting I can't beat... that guy. C'mon, don't you think I can do it?"
Brent shook his head, but Nancy started feeling in her pockets. Bess leaned in close to her and her eyes fluttered shut as though she were fighting the alcohol, and she whispered, "His name is Jean. He owns this hotel. His dad gave it to him for his eighteenth birthday. And he's been here off and on for the past two weeks." She took the $5 Nancy pressed into her hand and grinned. "Thanks a million, chick."
"You bet," Nancy said to Bess's retreating back, catching a glimpse of him through the crowd, the gaze of those hot black eyes.
Nancy stared down at the black indicator panel above Ned's doorknob. Her weight was heavy against the doorframe as she, tongue between her teeth, jammed the card into the slot, then removed it hastily.
Two lights pulsed green and she heard the lock click back, and Ned turned the television off. He reached the doorway just as she pushed the door all the way open.
"Nan?"
"Hi," she said, a shade too brightly. "Sorry it took me so long." She brushed the embossed wallpaper with her palm, describing an arc that nearly brought her to the floor.
"How many more did you have?"
"Oh, not that many," she said, smiling faintly. "I am so completely tired right now. And... my skin feels nasty."
"Why don't you take a little shower, just to wake up a little bit? You can tell me what you found out."
"That sounds great," Nancy said, her voice muffled by the tank top coming over her head. She stopped with the metallic fabric still draping her lower arms and stared at him. "Ned," she whispered, overloud. "Ned you looked really jealous earlier."
"I was," he said. "I'm better now that you're here."
"You know I'd never stay with some other guy," she said, letting the top fall to the floor as she reached up to his face. She kissed him briefly and tasted the rum on his breath. "I'd never do that to you. Oh man I need to sit down," she said, and stumbled through the bathroom to sit on the closed lid of the commode. He followed her through the doorway and shut the door.
"Are you even going to remember what you found out?"
"I'm not that drunk." She gave him a dirty look, then her eyes widened. "You're in here with me. And this is a naked place." Her eyebrows lifted, with the merest beginnings of a suggestion.
"I just don't want you to pass out in the shower."
"Sure you don't." She reached down and unhooked her strapless bra before he could turn around, toward the mirror, blushing faintly. He watched her out of the corner of his eye as she sat down on the lip of the tub, turned on the shower head, and waited for the water to reach the right temperature. When it did she divested herself of all but an anklet and a hair band and vanished behind the curtain. He stared at it as though wishing he could spontaneously develop x-ray vision.
She spluttered for a minute, then said, "George and Bess did most of the trailing, I'm sure you're happy to know." Ned nodded mutely. "Jean doesn't do much but look pretty and sip at his bacardi drinks while scoffing at every girl in the crowd. He has no alibi for the night Jamie went missing. Do you want me to moan like the girls on the shampoo commercials, Ned?"
Ned's bare toes curled on the tile floor. "That won't be necessary."
Nancy laughed. "Good, because I'm not going to bother washing my hair tonight. There are three other pretty good candidates too, people the bartender remembers talking to Jamie for a long time, but God knows if the bartender saw whoever took her. There's no telling, she could have talked to this guy for five minutes and blown him off, and then later he decides to get back at her. And we're back to square one." The spray shut off, leaving the bathroom in a fine warm mist. "Got any towels?"
He handed her a washcloth just to laugh when she flipped him off, and then passed a bath towel behind the curtain. He heard the occasional elbow bump against the sides, and then she pulled the curtain back with the cloth draped over one arm. He bit his lower lip hard as he followed her back into the common area, where she stepped into a clean thong and put her arms through a bra, snapping it between her breasts. She tossed the damp towel at the bathroom door, but didn't quite make it. Then she turned to him with her hands on her hips.
He pulled her into his arms and the vague protesting motions and noises subsided with the length of his embrace. There was an edge of something like desperation to it, but she would never have associated him with something so powerless. It was jealousy, she decided, but the hard inebriated core of her brain declared that it didn't mind, and besides the air conditioner had cooled the moisture on her skin to below freezing and his bare chest was so warm against her.
He pulled her into bed with him and somewhere inbetween they stopped kissing, so when he reached back to turn the lamp off she waited for her eyes to adjust and found she was staring into his. Their legs were impossibly tangled and he reached up to smooth a strand of her hair back.
"Are you nauseated or anything?"
"I'm fine, just tired," she said, stifling a yawn with the back of her hand. "I love you so much."
"Love you too," he whispered, feeling her limbs go slack almost immediately. He thought a minute, then slipped from beneath the covers, drew a glass of water from the tap, and put it on the bedside table.
"Mmm?" Nancy mumbled, her hand moving over the bare sheet where she had expected to find him. "Ned, you peeking bastard, come back to bed."
He went to sleep with a smile on his face.
Nancy stood with her hands clasped behind her low-rise bellbottoms. "Thank you for seeing me on such short notice."
Jean waved a careless hand. His cream-colored linen shirt was buttoned only halfway up his tanned chest. "It was no trouble. What's on your mind, Miss...?"
"Carnegie," Nancy filled in. "Nancy Carnegie."
Jean gestured to a minibar. "Drink?"
Nancy grinned. "Not so early in the day."
Jean shrugged. "So if you're not here for my rum, why are you here? Not that I'm complaining." She noticed only the barest flicker in his eyes from her face.
"I saw you last night at the bar," Nancy began. She loosed her hands and let one finger run across the back of the chair facing him. Rose-colored fabric with gold tracings bent under her fingertip. "You're hot."
"If you saw me then you doubtless saw my escort."
Nancy shrugged. "And?"
Jean laughed. The sound was abrupt and stilted. "Aren't you a gutsy one."
"Let's just say I know what I want." Nancy dropped her hand and stared directly into his eyes. "That blonde is no threat to me. But I heard you were going out with a brunette before I came here. Her I'm worried about."
Jean brushed an invisible piece of lint from his shirt. "There are so many women here. Do you have a name for this phantom brunette, Miss Carnegie?"
"Julie. Jackie. Something like that."
"And you've seen this... Janie."
Nancy cocked an eyebrow. "I'm given to understand she left before I came here. Maybe she was taken off the market. Maybe by you."
"Do you think I'd be seen at the bar if I had settled on a girl before you came here?"
"Maybe that's why I'm here. Maybe your eye is still wandering."
Jean cocked his own eyebrow. "What, do you want to convince me to stop?" He stood. "Do you want to give me a reason, Miss Carnegie? Are you here to make me an offer?" This time the flicker of his eyes was not so much a glance as a calculated effort.
Nancy leaned forward, propping her elbows on the back of the chair and staring into his eyes. The thin strap of her tank top slid down her right shoulder. "Now, Mr. Varez, what could I possibly offer you to dissuade you from the very course I'm asking you to pursue?"
Jean smiled lazily. "Every man has his price."
Nancy stood to her full height again and tugged the strap back into place. "As does every woman. Maybe I'll see you there again tonight."
"Perhaps," he agreed, following her from his room with his gaze.
"Gin," Ned was announcing as Nancy let the door swing shut behind her. He looked up from his cards, as did Bess, who was sitting across the tiny hotel table from him.
"Why does everyone feel like drinking so early?" Nancy said wearily, tossing her canvas bag into a chair and sprawling out on the bed.
"It's called vacation, Nan. Get used to it." Bess grinned. "I had a crappy hand anyway, Ned. You seem to have all the luck today."
"I doubt it," Ned said, still staring at Nancy's face. "So you went over there?"
"Yes, I went to see Jean," Nancy recited in a singsong voice. "Yes, the info I got was way too little for the amount of flirting I had to do to get it."
"Which was what?" Bess asked, curiously.
"He remembers her. Whether or not he had anything to do with her disappearance, I still don't know."
"You flirted with him?"
Nancy's face tightened momentarily. "This is why I didn't want you to come."
In the startled silence Bess stood and finally got out, "I need to go... get more beach towels. Or something."
When the door shut behind Bess, Nancy turned on her side, away from Ned, whose temple was throbbing. "So you could flirt with this Jean guy? That's why you didn't want me here?"
"Ned, you know that's not true. You know I'm not interested in him."
"I saw you looking at him last night, Nan. Don't lie to me."
Nancy heaved an enormous sigh. "I'm playing a part here, Ned. You keep forgetting that. Yes, I was looking at him. Yes, he's attractive. And maybe I'd consider dating him, if I were free, and if he weren't a misogynist jerk who treats women like chattel and basically has a harem of girls too stupid to know any better. If that's what I wanted, yeah. But if that's what I wanted I wouldn't be with you."
"Did you kiss him?"
Nancy stared at him, incredulous. "Are you not understanding the words that are coming out of my mouth? Am I not speaking English? Ned, what did I just say?"
"That you had to flirt with him."
"Ned..." Nancy stared at the ceiling a minute, then launched herself off the bed and grabbed her bag from the chair. "This is hard enough without you turning psycho jealous boyfriend on me. I'm... I'll see you later."
Ned stood up. "That's... Nan, I don't mean it that way. I just... how would you react if this were reversed? If I had to go flirt with a girl who looked like a supermodel and lead her on, here, on our own personal Temptation Island?"
"I'd understand and not accuse you of sleeping with her..." Nancy sat down on the bed. "Only after I'd had her entire house bugged and put under visual surveillance."
Ned crossed his arms. "So you don't trust me either?"
"I do trust you. It's just that when a girl gets determined, she can wrap a guy around her finger."
"And the same doesn't go for guys?" Ned cocked an eyebrow.
Nancy looked down at her lap, where her hands fought each other. "I take it back, okay? You're right. But there's not a damn thing I can say to convince you that I'm not screwing around if you're determined to believe that."
"Well, there's something you could do that would be a start," Ned said. He leaned down, their noses were touching, and then he was kissing her, and then she was twining her arms around his neck to pull him down into bed with her.
"You didn't kiss him," Ned whispered when he pulled back.
"I wouldn't do that," Nancy said, frustrated. "And if you won't believe me then maybe you should go back to Mapleton."
"And leave you here with him?" Ned smoothed a strand of her hair back and grinned. "I'm kidding. I trust you, you know what you're doing."
"I think it's more accurate to say I know who I'd like to be doing."
Nancy touched one of Ned's fingertips, softly, watching his face all the while. When he didn't respond, she lifted his arm with infinite care and slid from beneath it, careful to distribute her weight so he wasn't shifted.
She stood on her side of the bed and watched his features, traced in moonlight, for any hint that he heard her, that he had become aware of her leaving. But only the rise and fall of his chest showed he was animate.
She pulled on a sheer camisole and some dark yoga pants with a stripe that gleamed in the half-light, then moved toward him like a cat, watching him intently again. No, he was out; the quiet slide of suede sandals, room key tucked in the waistband of her pants, fingertips guiding the door to a muted click in the darkness, and she was out too.
She found the gap in the herbaceous border that George had scoped out for her earlier and crept through, gazing up at the house for any sign of life. She didn't hold much hope, because George had found nothing the night before, when she herself had volunteered for an impromptu stakeout on Jean's house.
But she was more certain than ever that Jean had her friend somewhere on the property. Somewhere in this house, or somewhere easily accessible to the house. He knew where she was. He had done something.
Her hand found the wood on the balcony, and slowly she traced it with feet and fingers down to where the surf beat against the rock foundation of the house, where she found him, cigarette in his hand.
"So we meet again, Miss Drew."
Nancy cut a glance at him, and then her chest was full of ice when she realized that she had not given him that name.
"If you've come here for someone to love, like the rest of us, please find him. I think you have; I think you still have his scent on your skin. Take him and your friends with you. Unless you are looking... for someone else."
"I did come here. Looking for someone I'd lost."
"I don't think I'm that person."
"I didn't think you were either." Nancy gazed at him. "But there has to be some reason I am not in my bed tonight, some reason I'm here gazing at the stars with you."
"You do not seem to be looking to the stars, Miss Drew. Your gaze seems significantly lower."
"Tell me where she is."
Jean flicked ash into the sea. "You told me before that you wanted to take her place. Maybe you shall."
He walked away, and Nancy's fingers were trembling on the wood, so hard that she did not trust herself to follow even with her gaze.
Bess rubbed at one eye with a closed fist, while the other held her robe closed. "What? Why are we here?" she yawned.
"Sorry I'm late," George called, her face lit by the wavering pool lamps.
"And who answered your phone, George? He sounded cute." Despite her still-trembling hands, Nancy had to grin.
Bess's mouth dropped. "George Fayne! What? Who?"
George blushed. "He... was out jogging and we got to talking, and we started watching a movie and fell asleep."
Nancy smiled. "I can't count the number of times I've told that lie, George. Or at least a version of it."
"Okay, okay. As much as I want to hear all the details of George's illicit and steamy love life, I'd much rather get back to sleep first. So, Nan, why'd you pull us out of bed?"
"Why are you holding your robe so tight?" George demanded, poking at Bess's ribs, where she was ticklish, until she unwillingly released her hold. "Oh... this guy must be special. I don't remember the last time you packed the blue lace babydoll."
"See what you've done?" Bess moaned at Nancy. "Let me go back to bed before she tickles me to death, or I throw her into the pool."
"Jean knows where Jamie is. I think he's the one who took her."
"How do you know?" George recovered first.
"I went out to his house tonight. We... talked." Nancy shuddered.
"What the hell did he say to you?" Bess asked.
"He... I was flirting with him earlier, acting like I was jealous of Jamie. And he said that maybe I would take her place, like I'd been saying. But he knew my name. My real name. He knew that I have friends here, he knew about Ned."
"So he threatened you, or us? Did he mention us specifically?"
Nancy shook her head. "All he said specifically was my name. And he didn't threaten me. But... you've seen him. And I need to know more. Where was he when he wasn't here in the past two weeks, was he meeting with somebody? Has Jamie gotten sucked into something, a gambling scheme, a drugrunning gang, a slavery ring, what?"
George nodded. "Right, Nan. We're right on it."
"Well, you were certainly on something," Bess smirked.
After the sounds of their arguing had faded back into the ambient noise of the surf, Nancy ran her hands lightly up and down her arms, staring at the surface of the water. He had warned her off; she wasn't just imagining that. He had said her name; she hadn't just misheard that.
And she wanted to see him again. No matter how much she tried to deny it, that fact came back to her. She wanted the challenge of those hot black eyes, the thrill of staring into the abyss and stepping back.
Or something, something like that. Something far more instinctual, something requiring far less from logic and reason than from the rush of hormonal insanity this trip was becoming.
Nancy was just as quiet when she crept back inside. Ned was on his back, his hand curled in a faintly grasping attitude on her pillow. But Nancy's heart sank when she saw the gleam of his open eyes.
"Could you not sleep? Go for a walk on the beach?" Ned opened his arms and Nancy kicked her sandals off, dove back beneath the covers and into his embrace.
"Something like that," she whispered. "Ned, would you do anything for me?"
Ned wrinkled his forehead. "Well, within reason," he responded. "I only have two kidneys." He leaned down and kissed her. "You just did something dangerous, didn't you."
"I'm afraid to let you do it. You'd kill him."
Ned nodded. "Right. So you thought that three o'clock in the morning was a good time to... do whatever."
Nancy sighed. "All I did was walk over to his house. Just hoping that he'd coincidentally also be engaging in some sort of suspicious activity."
"And you're shaking. Were there dobermans?"
Nancy's grin was wry. "Worse. He was there. Awake. I ran into him."
Ned's arms tightened. "And I shouldn't tell you to stay away from him, or there, or this case, because you will say what about Jamie, what about Jamie, and I'll be left looking like a jealous selfish fool."
"I understand that you're frustrated."
"Hell, Nancy! How can I put into words the way it felt to see how you looked at him? The way I imagine you looked at him tonight?"
"Nothing happened."
"Yet. Nothing happened yet."
Nancy fought back traitorous tears. "Dammit, Ned, I need you on this. I need you to be here to pull me back. I can't have you jealous like this, I... I'm not going to jeopardize us for a case."
"But sometimes I feel like you're not going to jeopardize a case for us." He reached up and brushed a strand of her hair back. "I know I'm not helping. I can't help but think that this would be a great vacation, a great chance for us to get to know each other better, if you weren't constantly preoccupied. All I want to do is..." He slid the strap of her camisole down her shoulder and kissed its path, for a very long moment, while the trembling spread from her hands to her entire body, while the blood in her head began to sing. She slowly shifted her weight until her back was flat against the bed, while Ned slid down the other strap, and she trembled at the feel of his breath on her skin.
"Ned..." His fingers trailed down, skating over her skin at the hem of her camisole, and he tugged it up, his palms warm against her. She tilted her head back, gasping "Ned, Ned we can't do this..." even as she lifted her arms and let him pull it over her head. "We have to stop..."
"Tell me why," he whispered, mouth against hers. His fingers touched the drawstring at the front of her pants and she went rigid, pushed his hands away. "Tell me you don't want this."
She was crying now. "I can't. I want you so much," she whispered, lacing her fingers between his.
"Then let me do this," he whispered. He kissed her until she was breathless and untied the pants, and she arched beneath him so he could shove them down to her knees, then kicked them to the floor.
"No more than this," she murmured back, shoving his hands away when they gravitated to her waist. "This is it tonight."
His eyes gleamed. "More tomorrow?"
"No. But I didn't want to disappoint you too much." She smiled.
"Too late," he grumbled, but smiling, as he pulled the covers around them.
Nancy tapped her foot on the stucco. "I know your already impeccable abs won't thank me, but have you found out anything?"
George wiped her eyes and scowled up at Nancy. "Hand me a towel, taskmaster."
Once she had towel-dried her hair, George leaned back in the deck chair with her eyes closed. "He was here that night. I found one waitress who remembers seeing them together, but she didn't see either of them leave, so she doesn't know if it was together or not. He did leave and come back between then and now. No one knows or particularly cares where. And he's a player, but who here isn't."
"Have there been other girls he's been seen with who later disappeared?"
George sighed. "The purpose of this place doesn't help with finding that out, you know. People get bored, find other people, run out of money and go back home. Of course other people have done what Jamie did, come here basically as a revenge/jealousy thing, but... Nan, I'm sorry. It's going to be so hard to prove that Jamie didn't just leave."
"I know she didn't." Nancy started chewing on her lower lip.
George rubbed her head with the towel again. "We're not really maintaining this cover anymore, are we? Now that your prime suspect has figured out who we are..."
"Someone else here could be involved."
"So, that's a yes. So, we shouldn't be seen together for this long..." George smiled, tossed her towel back on the deck chair, and dove back into the pool.
Nancy looked over to the cabana, where Bess was sipping what Nancy hoped was orange juice and flirting openly with a dark-haired guy sitting across from her. Her mouth went dry as another more familiar dark-haired guy detached himself from the scene and headed in her direction.
"Don't tell me you're checking out other guys again," Ned said in a voice so frustrated only she could detect what she told herself was a mock undertone.
"I have the right. So do you," Nancy replied.
"Never again," Ned whispered under his breath, then louder. "Come back home with me. I know we can make this work."
"I don't have enough proof to convince anyone, including myself, that he's involved. I think I should go see him again." She lightly shoved his shoulder, then said for the sake of anyone listening, "I told you before, I don't want to. I'm having the time of my life here."
"Dammit, Nancy..."
She couldn't ignore the frustration this time, couldn't dismiss it. He was standing so close to her, eyes smoldering, and entranced she leaned into his personal space, reliving the same motions they had performed over and over. She could predict the angle to which he tilted his head, could mentally trace the way his arm would curve around her waist before it did so.
"We're... we're not supposed to be doing this..." she whispered, tilting her head back.
"Tell me to stop," he challenged her before his mouth met hers. As she melted he murmured, "Give me this before you willingly go into the spider's lair."
"Never again," she repeated, apology in her eyes. She reached up and slapped his cheek. "Don't ever do that again," she cried.
"Believe me, I won't." He stalked away.
"He should just be a moment. Would you care for any refreshment?"
"No, thank you." Nancy let her hands clasp loosely in her lap as she glanced around the same room, seated in the brocade chair she had used as a barrier between them during their last interview.
There had to be something here, something she was missing. Something in plain sight. He was so arrogant, he would not have bothered to cover his tracks so thoroughly she couldn't find anything.
Maybe if she...
Nancy's mouth dropped open as a woman flowed into the room and dropped onto the couch across from her. A woman with dusky skin, crimson dress, crimson lips, dark hair spilling down her back...
"Jamie?"
The woman raised an eyebrow and crossed her slender legs, which ended in silver sandals. "He'll be down in a minute. I just wanted to see the new girl. Get a sneak preview."
"Jamie, Daniel is so worried about you. He'll be so happy to see you again."
Jamie tossed her hair. "I'm not going back. Not with you. Not even if he comes down here himself."
It was too much; Nancy's jaw dropped. "What the hell is the matter with you?"
"I came down here to find a man. I found one. And as you can see, he is utterly gorgeous." Jamie opened a silver cigarette case, selected one between gleaming fingernails, and lit it, exhaled a cloud of smoke. The sun caught a ring on her left hand and threw it into rainbows on the wall.
"Did you marry him, Jamie?"
"You could say that." Jamie tapped her ash into a tray on the coffee table. "Oh, here he is." She rose, painfully graceful, and extended a hand to Jean. "Darling."
"Miss Drew and I have something to discuss, precious," Jean said, kissing her hand and leading her away. "I'll see you in a little while."
"And I'll see you in a while," Jamie called over her shoulder. Nancy's nerves were so frayed she didn't want to look over her shoulder, didn't want to know who Jamie thought she was talking to.
"What kind of game are you playing here? What have you done to her?" Nancy's voice was tight with fear. That hadn't been Jamie. Not really. She'd acted as though she were playing a part, not herself at all.
"No game. I haven't done a thing to her. She is gorgeous, isn't she." Jean smiled lightly at the door through which Jamie had passed.
"She was pretty close to engaged to the guy she left to come here," Nancy seethed.
"Pretty close, pretty close... that is her own affair. If a gorgeous woman chooses of her own free will to be with me, who am I to stop her." Jean walked over to the bar and poured himself a slug of scotch, asking with his eyebrows if she would also care for one. When she shook her head vehemently, he shrugged and tossed it back smoothly, then rolled the glass in his hands.
"You have come here for me, haven't you, Miss Drew."
Nancy just kept shaking her head. "No. No I haven't."
"You came to rescue someone who no longer cares to be rescued. You know that now. You can go back now, you don't even have to bother sneaking out of your room in the low hours of the morning to go to him, you can sunbathe on the glorious beaches and dance away your nights. You are an excellent dancer."
"You've done something to her. I'll prove it."
"All you'll end up proving is that you've lost your sense of purpose here. I would give you a new one, if you are not content to spend your nights in the arms of your lover, if you want more than what is obviously there."
Nancy ran a hand through her hair. Her mouth was dry. "He's not... I'm not content to do that."
"So you want more, do you."
"I'm going to put you away for a long time." Nancy swallowed.
"I'm certain you will, Miss Drew." Jean lowered the glass to the bar. He nodded to the door. "We will meet again."
She drank his movements, despite herself. The angles of his knuckles as he opened the french doors, the sunlight on his hair...
The butler found her that way, her lips slightly parted, leaning forward on the edge of her seat. "Shall I show you to the door, miss?"
"I'm sorry to ask you this, but... we have to stakeout tonight."
Bess pouted. "But Alex and I were going to try the hot... um, pockets."
"Are you sure she's not just frustrated? I mean, really, there is absolutely no way for us to prove he's up to anything. Not really." George peered at him hopefully.
"Do you want to see the ashtray in her room? She takes two or three puffs of a cigarette, makes a face, and grinds it out. And then does it again." The muscle in Ned's jaw was ticking.
"You are talking about our Nancy?" Bess raised an eyebrow.
"Look, I don't understand it either. But every time she sees him, she acts a little more... different. More convinced that it must be him. I..." Ned ran a hand through his hair. "I think that if she goes to see him again, she won't come back to me."
George shook her head. "That's ridiculous. She'd never do that."
"Oh?" Ned laughed bitterly. "I know about Mick and Sasha. Don't tell me about what can happen to her when she's caught up in a case."
"She does get... single-minded," Bess admitted, grudgingly. "But she always comes back to you."
"That doesn't mean she always will."
George sighed. "So, Ned, what are you asking? That we tie her to the bed? That we get on the next plane out of this place?"
Ned shook his head. "We still haven't found Jamie. Nancy says she saw her. And if Jamie..." Ned dry-washed his face. "I don't know. I don't know anymore. I want her to stay the hell away from him. She can't do what she came here to do, not now. She can't bring Jamie back home. So we can. We can put them both on that plane and get the hell out of here."
George and Bess exchanged glances. "All right, I'll guard Nancy," Bess said.
"And I'll go back up to the house," George said. "Maybe I can sneak in, look around, find out where he's keeping Jamie."
"No. I want to go up to the house. I want to see this for myself. Maybe the two of you can talk some sense into her. I'm afraid to leave her alone, even for this long. She's... I don't even know anymore."
George checked her watch. "It's an hour until sunset. We can go play some cards."
Bess bit her lip. "Give me enough time to find Alex and make some lame excuse to him, and I'll be there. I promise," Bess replied to George's dirty look.
He'd known that a single two-liter of Mountain Dew, no matter how potent, wouldn't be enough to keep them both awake all night. He'd known, but he'd accepted their protests, and the fact that between the three of them, they'd had enough pocket change to get a two-liter and a candy bar.
Ned moved the bush a little further and peered through the window, impossibly calm even to himself as he watched Nancy accept a cigarette and puff away at it without grinding it out almost immediately. Despite her slack posture, she followed Jean around the room with her eyes as he made the circuit, pausing every now and then for her expected and received nod.
Ned's blood was already boiling. He began the count under his breath. If she wasn't out by the time he counted to a hundred, no matter what, he would fight anyone he had to just to get her out of that house.
When he reached seventy-five and was itching to say the hell with it, Jean stopped pacing, his eyes searching the seam between the walls and floor, until Ned could have sworn Jean's eyes met his. Ned stepped back slowly, watching, and his heart sank as Jean clapped his hands together. The butler, obviously a perpetually overworked man, arrived far too quickly. Jean stepped through the french doors again, but not before directing a significant glance in the direction of Ned's window. Nancy stepped toward Jean, hand outstretched, expression pleading, before the butler had taken her arm and led her toward the door.
He arrived just as the door closed behind her. Her zippered hoodie hung loosely about her frame and was barely on one shoulder; she yawned as she rubbed one eyelid with a closed fist. He grabbed the cigarette, which was still emitting a slow, determined trail of smoke in her forgotten right hand, and ground it into the sand beneath his heel.
"Nan? Nancy?"
"Ned? What are you doing here?" Nancy yawned again, placed a hand on his arm. "Hey."
"What was Jean telling you?" Ned's words were clipped.
"That he wants to marry me," Nancy drawled, smiling sleepily up at the night sky. "Stars. He'll give me a star. He wants me. Jamie and I will braid each other's hair and tell stories."
"I hope to God you're talking in your sleep."
"I am so damn tired," she confessed to him, and giggled. "I don't know why I came out here. Jamie's happy. We should just leave her alone. She don't want to go back." Nancy smothered another yawn. "I don't want to go back. It's so pretty here, I can see my feet in the water. Have you seen your feet in the water?"
"Do you want to go do that now? Look at your feet in the water?"
"It's hard to do it when it's dark. But maybe we can. The moon's really bright." Nancy waved vaguely in the direction of the sky. "We'll have to take our shoes off. Don't look, okay?"
"I won't look," he said solemnly, staring as she slipped out of her sandals and weaved toward the water. He reached out for her arm to steady her, and his fingers slid down to hers, laced between them. "Show me your feet, Nan."
"They're right there, silly." She pointed straight down.
"I love you, Nan," he whispered.
She pouted. "I know you do," she whispered, leaning heavily on his shoulder.
Ned exhaled, slow and long. "We're going to go back to the hotel, okay?"
"All right," she whispered, glancing over their shoulders at the monstrosity looming behind them.