Chapter 7

AN: Thanks for all the reviews! I'm very sorry about the delay. Why do teachers assign summer reading anyway? Oh, well. Pleeeaaase review!

"How may I help you today?" asked the man, standing behind the counter at Hertz car rentals. The three detectives were the only people in the store, and Nancy was grateful. They didn't need anybody hearing this

Nancy looked at the man, as Frank explained who they were that they needed some information on one of their customers. He was older. About 45, she guessed. His hair was thinning, and she could tell that he had been trying to hide the grey patches on his head by dying his hair blond. Large glasses covered his blue eyes, and silver crucifix hung around his large neck.

"Well, Mr. Hardy, I usually can't disclose any information about the clients here at Hertz, but since you're from the detective agency…I might just be able to help you. But first, do you have any I.D. on you?" The man, Leigh according to his nametag, asked the three.

They all produced their drivers' licenses. "What was the man's name, you say?" Leigh asked, after checking their IDs.

"Paul Ferall. F-E-R-A-L-L." Nancy answered.

Leigh typed in the name and the trio waited anxiously.

"Here we are!" Leigh said loudly as the name popped up o his screen. "Mr. Ferall was in here two days ago."

"Yes, but can you tell us what kind of car he rented? And, possibly the plate number?" Joe asked.

He nodded. "Surely. It was a blue, 1998, Chevy Cavalier. Plate number 637-TE8."

Nancy, Frank, and Joe thanked him for his help, jotted down the information, and left.

Nancy checked her cell-phone for the time. 12:30 on the dot.

"Well… we know one thing's for certain." Joe said, breaking the thick silence that had fallen in the car.

"Yeah?" Nancy asked.

"They definitely had this planned. I mean…we kind of knew that, but there's no other explanation." Joe said.

"Yeah." Frank agreed. "It could be a coincidence, but I've learned that in cases, nothing is a coincidence."

They stopped to eat lunch at the little café around the corner from their agency. The boys discussed the case quietly, and Nancy was on her laptop, occasionally making a comment or remarks on what one them said.

To a passerby, it looked as if she was doing serious research, or something else that took a lot of effort, because of the concentrated look on her face. But, she wasn't. All she was doing was playing her favorite word game. It helped her mind relax, and forget about everything else, which, Nancy had come to find, helped her to concentrate even more on the case. You see, Nancy had found that her mind was like the peg game that was on the tables at Cracker Barrel. She could figure it out if she wasn't concentrating on it 100.

Frank and Joe knew their friend meant business when she pulled out old Chictionary, so they didn't ask her opinion on what they were saying.

"First thing that we need to do is destroy the bug." Joe said, leaning back in his chair, and peering at his older brother intently.

"Ok," He said slowly. "But what will we do after that. We've pretty much hit a dead end."

"I don't know." Joe said. "But we have to think of something." He said more determinedly that he felt.

After they had destroyed the bug (which had been placed on the top ledge of the drawer under the stove that didn't open), Frank and Joe made a quick trip down to their apartment to get a change of clothes.

When they left, Nancy looked around her apartment, and the memories overwhelmed her. She could see her dad, sitting on the couch, laughing at something Frank or Joe had said, helping her carry her boxes of 'serious crime solving equipment a.k.a.: junk' into her apartment when she moved in, telling her how proud he was of her. The memories went on and on. Nancy gripped a table for support, tears streaming down her face.

She fell to her knees and let out a sob. This is all my fault. She thought, as she continued to break down. Ned was right. It was only a matter of time before something like this happened. She as good as got her father kidnapped. She had put her head in her arms, still sobbing, when she heard the door open.

"Nancy? What happened?" It was Frank's voice.

He rushed over to her, picking her up and holding her in his arms as she sobbed. He sat down on the sofa quietly. She wrapped her arms around his neck and cried into his shoulder, holding onto him as if he was her only lifeline.

Frank whispered soft words of comfort as she had her break down.

"Frank, it's all of my fault. I was so stupid. Why can't I be normal?" Nancy asked, once she had calmed down

"Nancy…it's not your fault." Frank started, wiping the last of her tears away. "You need to understand that. You are nothing close to stupid. And, Nancy? If you were 'normal'…" Frank raised his eyebrows at her and used a pair of air quotes around the word normal. "…Than you wouldn't be Nancy. All those guys you got in jail…they would still be out in the world causing horrible things to happen. Mysteries are part of you, part of the girl that I'm in complete and total love with. You know that you wouldn't be able to live without your mysteries."

He kissed her sweetly and looked her straight in the eyes, an expression of sadness and concern on his face. "Ned really did do a number on you when you broke up, didn't he?" he asked quietly.

Nancy looked down. "Yeah… He said that I was always dragging him, Bess, and George into my mysteries, and it was only a matter of time that I and one of my cases got one of them killed."

Frank's brown eyes that were usually so full of love, darkened. "If I ever see that …" He didn't finish his own sentence, as he pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her. "Nancy, I love you. If Ned could say something so horrible…he couldn't have ever felt the way he said he did about you, or anyone, for that matter."

"Where's Joe?" Nancy asked, her voice muffled by Frank's neck.

"Went to go get some pizza." Frank answered, as he rubbed his hand up and down her back slowly.

"Why?" she asked, looking at him in confusion. She glanced at her watch. 3:02.

"Hungry." Frank answered again

"We ate at 1:00" she said, leaning back into him.

"He's Joe." Frank put his hand on the back of her head, gently holding it to his chest.

"Frank?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

Frank smiled and kissed the top of her head. He would never get tired of hearing her say that. "I love you, too."