October 4, 11:00 am

Frank's head knocked the side of the train's window pane, his skull vibrating in time to the rotating wheels. He had shelled out for a private cart, all in cash, where they could pour over case notes in peace. They were heading to New York to get on the next flight to Germany, posing as a couple on their honeymoon.

But they had to sacrifice luxury for safety until they made it to New York.

A car required too many stops where they could be recognized.

A plane was too risky, especially out of Bayport.

A train was just obsolete enough that no one would think to check for them there.

"So, let me get this straight," Nancy said, throwing her hair up in a ponytail. It had gotten much longer since the last time he saw her. "Samantha Green and Anthony Fucco were Network agents and partners, but Anthony turned out to be involved in a drug cartel they were investigating?"

"Dead on as always, Drew."

"Then why is Sam on the run? I thought she didn't do anything wrong?"

Frank leaned forward in his seat. "We don't know that, but that's why we have to find her before anyone else does."

"Isn't the FBI and Italian Police involved?"

Frank shrugged. "Yes, but her partner was connected to a mafia family that no one knew about and they were partners for years before this broke. She's going go down as an accomplice if we can't clear her."

Nancy sighed, stuffing the case notes back into her bag. "This certainly is different from our other mysteries, Frank."

"Worried there won't be any secret passages?" He asked, exhaustion not allowing him to bite back a smile.

"I'm more relieved about the lack of trap doors or diamond smuggling," she said, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Too bad we don't have something more boring to bond over; people might be tempted to eavesdrop."

The glanced over at the partially open glass door separating their private car. Nancy beat him to close it tightly, slipping a "do not disturb" sign onto the knob before locking it.

Frank's nose wrinkled in a playful frown. "Like what? Selling candy to fundraise our club soccer team?"

"That's too specific. Is that your 'normal person fantasy'?" She asked, sitting down beside him to look over the casefile one more time.

Frank knocked his knee into hers, swinging to the rumble of the train engine below them."No, not being held hostage in a nuclear bunker on prom night is a better one."

"What? I never heard that story!" Nancy said, leaning forward, knocking their knees together in time to the train's vibrations.

"The case itself wasn't that interesting, it was the grand finale that made it memorable. All of our cases end the same, Nan; we always catch the bad guy."

"And this one?" His eyebrows furrowed at her insinuation. "Do you think there's a bad guy? I know you were pretty good friends with this girl."

August 1, 1:47 pm (one year prior)

"Hey, Sam," Frank said, catching her arm before she walked towards the stairs. "I think you left your jacket in my room last time, do you want to check to see if it's yours?"

She smirked, brushing past him to enter his room. "Oh, to make sure it's not from some other random girl you allow in your room?"

His room was exactly as she'd imagine it: impeccable. Bed made, closet door closed, books in alphabetical order, it was every parent's dream for their child to have a room this clean. Well, except for her gray hoody laying over the back of his desk chair.

"Huh, you really did have it," she said, making a move to grab her jacket. Frank stopped her, motioning to the video pulled up on his laptop as he shut the door behind them.

It was a little grainy, the footage of a couple making out on a rooftop in Paris, the Eiffel Tower looming in the background. The audio was taken out, but it was clear who the two standing on the balcony were…

"I knew there was something more than a glitch in the security footage; I had a friend look into it and this was the part that was taken out," Frank began slowly, reaching around her to stop the video on a clear shot of her and her partner's face.

He held his breath as he waited for Sam to make a retort to cover her tracks or simply walk away, but she watched was frozen. She clutched her sweatshirt and wrung it in her white knuckles.

She smiled sheepishly after a while, her hand caught in the cookie jar. "You know, Frank, what they say about forbidden fruit…"

"That you shouldn't eat it?"

"No, that it tastes sweeter."

The silence hung between them like laundry on a line.

"You dad can't know about this," she continued, finding his brown eyes.

"He doesn't need to know unless it will impact your ability to do your job," Frank recited from the mental script in his head.

"Funny that there's still a fraternizing rule in the ol' Network considering…" Her anxiety is replaced with a predatory glance at the framed photo on his desk.

Frank turns it face down. "She doesn't count."

October 4 6:42 PM

Laura Hardy has not come out of the master bedroom for four hours.

She went up there after Shannon had left, voice hoarse from screaming. Shannon's hand shook as she signed a gag order drawn up by Carson, snatching her coat off the back of a dining room chair before fighting her way through the barrage of reporters.

Joe laid on the floor of Frank's once spotless room, torn up from hours of he, his dad, and Carson searching for any clues. He could see the mixed pride on his dad's face as they came up with nothing; like father, like son. Another phantom living in the house.

He stared at the glow-in-the-dark stars stubbornly still glued to Frank's ceiling, there forever no matter how hard they tried to scrape at them.

Joe rolled his blue eyes toward Frank's bed before quickly shifting away.

How his dad had missed the most obvious place to look for clues was beyond him, but he didn't have the heart yet to point it out.

He's never treated his brother like a serious suspect before, but unlike other mysteries he would always be tied to this case. If Joe toed the line of Frank's trust any further, he may lose him forever.

But then again…

Downstairs, the battle of the titans wore down as Fenton and Carson's coffee cooled in their mugs.

"What were you thinking, Fenton? How long did you think you could keep this a secret? You're employing teenagers, children, and you expected silence from them?" Carson asked, leaning back into the floral sofa to watch his friend pace.

"They aren't like other teenagers, Carson, they're like our kids—"

"If Nancy comes back from France with a broken arm I at least know where she got it from! How long have Frank and Joe lied to Trudy and Laura for your little side project? How have they been able to finish school and keep this up?"

Fenton slowed his pacing, casting a sideways glance at his friend. "They wouldn't have done this if they didn't want to—"

"What choice would they have had? You really think your boys would say no? Even if one of them did, the other would have to still tag along because they're a team. They idolize you, for better or for worse," Fenton replied, loosening his tie as he saw another news fan roll away through the slits in the closed blinds.

"They always had a choice. If they weren't happy, I didn't hear anything about it!"

Joe's heart pounded through his tee shirt as he used a flashlight to look beneath Frank's bed. Frank was too clever to put something so precious in the floor boards or just underneath his mattress.

With a final sigh, he found the coil at the far back of the mattress and pulled out a small, black leather-bound journal.