AN: We're back with Nancy in this chapter. If you're not really keen on Nancy, I suppose you can skip this chapter. But be warned you'll miss out on important stuff (as always) like what happened with Nancy and Frank after the conclusion of 'Who's that Girl?'...Standard disclaimer once again: Nancy Drew and Frank and Joe Hardy and all associated characters are not mine; I'm simply borrowing them for my own amusement. The Furlough Bar and all its inhabitants (minus Nancy, of course) belong to Barbara D'Amato. I just can't resist making use of such brillliant characters! Please don't sue, since I don't have any money, anyway. Enjoy the update, folks!
Ch. 7
The Furlough Bar in the First District, near the Central Police Department of Chicago, was open for business, serving the afternoon 'rush'. Besides the cantankerous owner-bartender Mort, and his hired help, Henry, the actual number of patrons was sparse. Primarily the haunt of cops, The Furlough was often CPD officer Suze Figueroa's after-tour stop. Along with her partner, Norman Bennis, they were joined by a few of their off-duty colleagues on this particular afternoon: Kim Duk O'Hara, Sandi Didrickson (a.k.a. 'The Flying None'), and Stanley Mileski. They'd all been on Second Watch, or the hours between 7:00 a.m. and 3:00 p.m. It was now just after 4:00 p.m.; pretty much 'happy hour' for all concerned.
Suze's full name was Susannah Maria Figueroa, but she much preferred 'Suze' over anything else. Any other variation including 'Susie' just irritated her, and only her mother and her disagreeable brother-in-law, Robert Birch, ever called her 'Susannah'. That, she simply had to tolerate since, well, her mother was her mother, and Robert was putting Suze up in his house, along with her young son, JJ.
Suze was sitting at the bar with Bennis, drinking her usual one beer before she shoved off for home. Half Cuban and half Irish, short in stature but brimming with enthusiasm for her job, Suze was a studious, attentive officer with her sights set on moving up in the ranks of the CPD. Along with Bennis, a black officer with a well-built upper torso and ten years more on the force than Suze, they had already built up an impressive solve rate with a couple high-profile cases and arrests on that list.
Suze was only half-listening to the discussion going on around the bar, mainly cops talking cop-talk, and other newsworthy stuff happening around their fair city. She was here to unwind, and while she enjoyed the company of her comrades, part of her wanted to slowly slough off the day's events. Her single beer helped with that.
The door to The Furlough opened, and bright rays of late afternoon sun blazed through and briefly illuminated the dull interior. Suze looked up and saw a face she instantly recognized, but had never before seen within these particular walls. She smiled invitingly and waved the newcomer over to the bar, and addressed everyone:
"Hey, guys, this is Detective Nancy Drew."
This elicited several 'Hellos' and 'How's it goings' from those assembled, and Nancy responded in kind, taking the stool to Suze's right.
"What can I get for you, Detective?" Mort, the bartender asked.
"Just a beer, please," Nancy said. She looked at Suze and said, "Been that kind of day."
"I know just what you mean," Suze replied. "Nancy, I'd like you to meet my partner, Norman Bennis. Norm, this is Nancy."
"Nice to meet you, Nancy," Bennis reached behind Suze, extending his hand to shake Nancy's.
"Nice to meet you, too, Officer Bennis," Nancy said, taking his hand.
"'Norm' works fine," he said.
"Okay, Norm," Nancy replied, smiling. Mort placed Nancy's drink in front of her, and she took a long draught.
"I ran into Nancy the other day at the range," Suze explained to Bennis and the rest of the crew listening. She left out the particulars of that encounter, for which Nancy was silently grateful.
Bennis said, "Heard you were back from the dead, Nancy. You made a lot of waves when your story came out; really shook up some areas of the department, what with all the revelations of corruption and such... What brings you to our distinguished watering hole?"
"Like I said, it's been that kind of day. I don't normally imbibe, but I've been driving past this place for a few years now, and today I just thought: why not?"
Sandi Didrickson, seated nearby, piped up saying: "Nancy, aren't you the one who had that corrupt partner? What was his name…He'd killed that medical examiner. She was his wife, I think…"
Nancy gave a weak smile. "Yeah, that's me, alright."
"Don't mind Sandi," Suze said in a conspiratorial whisper, "she's into her third beer right now. Pretty much wasting her last two brain cells."
Nancy cracked a wry, half-smile in spite of herself. Her experience with corrupt ex-partner and murderer Detective Tom Morrison was not one she cared to dwell on for any length of time. Tom's betrayal over a year ago had nearly cost Nancy her life, and those of her best friends, George Fayne and Bess Marvin.
More fodder for my talks with Dr. Kirkpatrick, Nancy thought bitterly: my eternal guilt for what happened that night…
"If you don't mind me saying so, Nancy, you look like your best friend just died," Suze commented, her eyes filled with genuine concern.
Nancy took a small sip of her drink before giving an answer. "Nobody died…recently," she finally said. "I've just sort of had to step away from some of my duties for now. I thought I was ready to come back after my time away. But it turns out I still have some things to work through." Nancy turned to Suze, hoping her answer didn't sound as evasive as she thought it did. "Thanks for your concern."
"Sure," Suze said. "You don't have to say another word if you don't want to talk about it."
"Okay," Nancy replied appreciatively. "I won't."
"Just sit back and enjoy the ambience," Suze said with a grin, waving a hand about. "It's not the fanciest, cleanest or even the prettiest place, but you won't find a better place to celebrate your victories or drown your sorrows than The Furlough. You're among your own kind here."
"Hear, hear!" Bennis chimed in.
With that, Suze raised her glass and downed the last of her beer.
Nancy could feel herself slowly relaxing in the presence of these other police officers. She had tried in the past to keep her personal life separate from her work life; had tried so very hard not to eat-sleep-breathe police work. It was her full immersion into her amateur detective cases that was often a source of friction between her and former beau, Ned Nickerson. Achieving a proper work/life balance was emphasized in the Department in order for officers to be successful and avoid burn-outs. But here, in this very bar, Nancy was with people who had an innate and unspoken understanding of what it was like to work in law enforcement. No civilian would ever be able to fully comprehend it.
The noisy buzz of her own thoughts quieted, and Nancy's ears gradually began to tune into the talk from the others assembled.
"…A couple of the First Watch guys were talking about that fire from the other night," Stanley Mileski was saying.
"I heard about that one," Kim Duk responded. "Pretty bad one, I heard."
"Yeah. They were actually neighbours from down the street of my sister," Mileski continued. "Whole place was pretty burned up. Parents and a newborn all dead."
"Not the prettiest way to go," Bennis said sombrely.
"They say the smoke probably got 'em first," Mileski said. "No batteries in the smoke detector, though. They family was dead before the fire started."
"Hope so," Bennis replied. "I happen to know from personal experience what it's like to be almost burnt to a crisp in your own place."
"That was a close call," Suze added.
"It surely was, Suze my man."
Nancy listened to this exchange with near-fascination. It was certainly nothing new for cops to recount the perils faced while on the job, but because she seldom spent time outside of the work environment with others of her profession in social situations, this was surprisingly comforting to hear. She was not the only one who'd had 'close calls', and here were individuals who spoke of them with relative ease and security. The only other time she'd ever felt this sort of connection was when she'd been on cases with Frank and Joe Hardy…They'd understood what it was like…
Frank Hardy…
Nancy sighed and took another long sip. She'd think about Frank Hardy later.
"Time I should be heading out," Suze said, pushing her empty beer glass back across the counter. "Nice seeing you here, Nancy. Don't be a stranger."
"Thanks, Suze. Have a good night." Nancy said, waving good-bye.
"Take care, Suze," Bennis said, "see you tomorrow."
"'Bye, Norm."
Nancy watched Suze leave, and felt a certain affinity for the other cop. It certainly wasn't the easiest thing being a woman in the police department, even though the number of female cops was on the rise. She almost envied the obvious trust, respect and camaraderie plainly shared by Suze and Norm. Nancy thought about how much trust she had put into her own partnership with Tom Morrison. And he had turned on her, destroying what had initially been a very successful partnering with his treachery and deadly deceit.
"You two have been through a lot, haven't you?" Nancy asked Norm.
He gave a short laugh. "Where do I even begin to start? Yeah, you could say we've been through a lot."
"She mentioned to me the other day she'd like to move up to Detective one day."
"Suze loves being a cop. But she knows that if she's promoted, the work commitment is that much greater and stressful. That young lady has a lot on her plate right now. You wouldn't know it by looking at her, but she's been through a whole lot of crap in her life. Divorced; left to raise a young son. A sister who's practically an invalid after a horrific car accident. On top of that she's got a crabby brother-in-law who's no help at all, and two teen-aged nieces to deal with. She all but takes care of that entire household and she never complains."
Nancy just sat in silence listening to Norm, thinking how her admiration and estimation of Suze simply as a person just shot up a hundredfold.
"So, you can see how that would sort of interfere with wanting to be a Detective."
"Yes, I can," Nancy replied thoughtfully. While it wasn't as if her own problems paled in comparison to Suze's, Nancy chided herself for her earlier thoughts and feelings of self-pity. She finished her drink and paid for it.
"Thanks for the conversation, Norm," she said, rising from her barstool. "It's about time for me to shove off."
"See you later, Detective," Bennis said.
"Nice meeting all of you," Nancy called out to the rest of the officers. To Norm, she said, "Promise me you'll take good care of that partner of yours, okay?"
Bennis gave her a salute. "I promise."
Nancy climbed into her vehicle, a brand-new red Mazda Miata. Her old, faithful blue Mustang was beyond repair after being dumped in Lake Michigan. It had certainly served her well, putting in yeoman's service through all the car chases, crashes and near-misses in its long life. The Miata's engine roared to life, and Nancy pulled out of the parking lot. It was about 4:30. If she drove without stopping along the way, she could make River Heights in about an hour, traffic conditions permitting.
As the winter sun began its early descent, slipping past the hazy horizon, Nancy wondered how her return to her home town would be perceived. What could she say to those curious about the unexpected sojourn?
I need more time off.
Well, that was partly true…
I'm taking a leave of absence.
Sure. A forced one.
I'm a bundle of nerves and I can't even handle a gun without re-living what happened that night. And I'm seeing a Department psychologist about it, too.
Certainly not the most triumphant return home, she thought ruefully. As it was, only her Dad and Hannah Gruen knew she was coming back into town. How ironic that the last place she'd visit before this return was named The Furlough?
Nancy braked slowly as she pulled up behind another car stopped in the snarled rush-hour traffic. She sat back in her seat, a glum expression on her face.
I just want to be normal again, she thought sadly, eyeing herself in the rear view mirror. I just want things to be back to the way they used to be before all this madness.
As the traffic began to clear and the swiftly approaching darkness settled over the landscape, Nancy all at once wondered what she would have done if she had to live the previous year all over again. The hard choices she'd had to make hurriedly had destroyed her relationship with Ned Nickerson. Of course, her time in hiding had been completely out of her hands…Putting her foot down and demanding she be given a chance to confront Tom Morrison had been one of the few times she'd felt in control in a long time.
And then had come that brief time spent with Frank Hardy. With the support and urging of her best friends, George and Bess, Nancy finally admitted the attraction between her and Frank. She'd gone to see him in Bayport shortly after seeing her ex-partner arrested and charged with first-degree murder, among other various and sundry offences.
The spark of attraction flared and burned brightly for several weeks, but as good and as right as it felt to be in Frank's arms, the flame eventually mellowed and dimmed.
Fools rush in, Nancy thought as she recounted the time she'd been in Bayport. She knew she'd have to eventually return to Chicago to her job, and the two of them realised that the nature of a long-distance relationship was a complicated one. Frank, too, began to be plagued with doubts. Always fair-minded and practical, he feared that he might be taking unfair advantage of Nancy, since she was just coming off her crushing break-up with Ned. He did not want to be accused of catching Nancy 'on the re-bound', and forever risk losing out on any chance with her.
It was with regrets that they decided to call off any serious relationship, at least for the time being.
And now with this latest development, I don't think I'm ready for any kind of relationship, Nancy mused. No one wants to be romantically involved with a head case.
When she pulled into the familiar driveway at quarter to six that night, the sight of the place she called home for such a significant part of her life was like experiencing the warm embrace of an old, dear friend.
She pulled out her keys and opened the front door, calling: "I'm home!" and sincerely hoped that by simply being here, she would finally find healing from the ordeal of the past year, the effects of which she'd ignored at her own peril for far too long.