DISCLAIMER: None of the Hardy Family, Drew Household, or any other characters featured in the Hardy Boys/Nancy Drew books belong to me. All other suspects and characters are of my own creation.

Author's Note: So it appears that our detectives have themselves a suspect. Of course, with our behind-the-scenes look, it seems that this mystery is much more complex than one might think. Coming at you right now is Chapter Ten!

Once dinner (and, more importantly, Aunt Trudy's famous dessert) had been eaten, the three detectives retired to Nancy's room once again to continue discussing the case.

"So you mentioned that there was more you found," Frank said once they were settled in. "What was it?"

Nancy felt bad for Frank. Sure, she was always working cases and rarely got downtime, but she knew that the worst feelings with cases weren't when they popped up during a vacation. It was when the cases hit close to home that sometimes ended up hurting the worst. For her, Henry was just another kidnapping victim, and Howard was just another suspect. For Frank, these people were friends with whom he'd worked for weeks and weeks to put something together. There was a certain trust that was built.

And now it was time to break down that trust Frank had with Howard Monroe. He was guilty, and she knew it.

"Let me briefly recap to make sure I'm not missing anything," Joe said. "Monroe doesn't appear to have a connection to Isaac Valdez, but he does appear to have a connection to the mob in Ohio."

Nancy grimaced. "You're partially right. I continued my research into what Howard Monroe was up to during the one time in his life he wasn't constantly moving. My first idea was the same as yours, that he has been on the run ever since." She grabbed the final photograph and showed it to the boys. "That's outside the courthouse, though I've lost track of which article this came from."

The Hardy Boys stared at it in detail. Howard Monroe could be seen walking down the sidewalk, toward Jim Gray, who stood on the steps. "I'm not sure what we're supposed to be looking at," Frank admitted.

Nancy grabbed a red pen from her bag, and circled both Monroe and Gray. "It's become blatantly obvious that these two have a history together. But Gray isn't the person I care about in this picture. No, this photo establishes another connection." She circled a third person, who was standing about 15 feet down the steps from the mob boss.

Joe squinted. "Wait, is that – "

"Yep." Nancy grabbed her laptop and pulled up a digital image. "Remember that friend of Ryan's who's helping us figure out who broke in? I got Ryan to pass along the online image to his friend early in the afternoon, and just before you two rolled in I got a more vivid picture back from him."

It was Isaac Valdez.

"This is some pretty damning evidence," Joe muttered.

As much as it hurt Frank to agree, he did. Here he was, friends with someone who had some sort of mob connection. And to boot, this friend was likely a murderer.

"It can't be a coincidence that both Howard Monroe and Isaac Valdez are in the same picture with the one and only Jim Gray," Nancy reasoned. "My working theory is that Monroe fled from the mob after he botched up the trial, and Valdez was assigned to track him down and silence him. And that assignment ended here in Bayport."

"Then it was self-defense," Frank mumbled.

"What's that, Frank?"

Frank shook his head in an effort to unjumble his thoughts. It didn't work. "He's seemed like a good guy for as long as I've known him. Maybe he just got caught up in what the mob was doing. Then he was disillusioned and fled, and the only reason he killed Valdez was because otherwise the reverse would've happened."

Nancy shrugged. "Seems like it could be a possibility, but that still doesn't explain the missing kids. Even if they had walked in on him killing Valdez, he could've plead self-defense in court. Instead, it looks like he kidnapped them."

It was late, and Frank was done with this conversation. He excused himself, grabbed a glass of water, and went to bed without saying goodnight to anyone.

"Yikes," Joe murmured as his brother creaked up the stairs. "He's taking this one pretty rough."

"I can't blame him," Nancy pointed out. "He's built a relationship with this guy over the course of the summer. I built a relationship with Ryan in a much shorter timespan, and the thought as we approached the end of the case that he could actually be behind it all rocked my world, and not in a good way."

Joe nodded as he and Nancy went to the kitchen to grab a quick snack of cheese and crackers. "I remember I was so mad at you for getting too close to the suspects involved in the case. This time around, Frank didn't really have the option to stay detached."

The two detectives continued to reminisce about their case in Maine, before also heading to their respective rooms to sleep.

What felt like only a few minutes later, Frank's alarm was buzzing in his ear. He groaned and reached over, turning it off with a flick of his finger.

Despite being a Sunday, Craig had insisted that they add a practice to the schedule in order to compensate for the missing young actor and the added stresses of the show. How adding more practices would take some of the stress off, Frank wasn't sure, but he'd learned that it wasn't smart to cross Craig, especially at such a critical time in the production.

The detective grabbed a bagel and a hardboiled egg to go and arrived at the auditorium early, even before Craig. Frank unlocked the door and brought the large moon prop in, making a beeline to the backstage door, where the ramp would allow him to roll the moon up to the stage level rather than hoisting it over the lip.

Frank took a good half hour to set up the prop, in which time most of the other cast and crew had arrived. It served him well to get his hands a little dirty, and the physical exertion helped to ratchet down his mental exertion with the case. It wasn't until roll call that he realized only one person was missing from the group, aside from Nigel's son.

"Where's Howard at!?" Craig barked. Everyone looked around at each other, shrugging and murmuring. The director pointed at Lily. "You usually give Howard a ride to practice. Where is he?"

"I'm not sure, Craig," Lily replied, baffled. "He usually texts me if he needs a ride, but he didn't. I texted him to find out if he needed a ride, but I never heard back."

A string of curses let loose in Frank's head. He couldn't fool himself anymore. The last thing they needed was the prime suspect in the case fleeing town, particularly if he had indeed abducted the kids.

"Well, even though he's one of the main characters, we need to practice," Craig growled. "We can't wait for him. Frank, you're in charge of calling him right now. If he doesn't pick up, I'll – "

"Yeah, I'll go call him," Frank said, cutting his director off. "You let me worry about Howard, you just focus on the show."

While the actors took their places and Craig sank into his usual spot among the auditorium seats, Frank exited into the lobby and pulled up Howard's number. After several rings, the phone went to voicemail.

"Damn," Frank muttered. Something must've tipped off Howard that the trio of detectives were looking into him. The only thing that made sense was Joe appearing at his house.

"Oh well," Frank said to himself. "What's done is done. Hindsight is always 20/20." He then dialed Joe's number, and again was sent to voicemail. "Of course. He's probably out like a light right now." Like the previous morning, his next option was his mother, who he knew was awake.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Mom," Frank greeted her. "Sorry to use you as a messenger between me and Joe again, but could you go wake him up and have him call me?"

"Is this about the case? Please tell me there hasn't been another explosion," his mother replied worriedly.

"There wasn't an explosion yesterday, it didn't detonate properly," Frank reminded her. "But yes, it's about the case. I need him to do something for me."

Some incomprehensible noises came across the phone for a brief second, and then Frank was surprised by a new voice. "Morning, Frank. What's up?"

"Nancy! You're up early," Frank said. "So, we may have a problem."

"Alright, what happened?"

Frank told her about Howard's absence from practice. "I'm afraid he may have skipped town on us. Can you go to his house and check in to see if there's any signs he's still around?"

"Sure thing," Nancy responded.

Before she hung up, one more thought crept into Frank's head. If there was one thing the stage manager had grown to love about Howard, it was that he always planned for the short- and long-term future. Now that trait seemed irreversibly wretched. "And Nancy, wake up Joe and bring him with you. It could be possible that Howard is trying to set a trap for us. He's someone who likes to be three steps ahead, and I would feel a lot more comfortable if you backed each other up."

"Is this because I didn't get you or Joe up when I heard someone breaking in?"

Frank sighed. "Maybe a little. I just know Howard pretty well, and he's that guy who always has his lines down before anyone else, who comes in after a day of blocking practice and has everything on point like he's been practicing. If he really is behind all this, he knows we're looking into him after his encounter with Joe yesterday. As much as I hate to admit it, he has a lot of traits that made him a great actor which could also make him a great criminal."

A long pause. "Okay, I'll bring Joe with me," Nancy finally agreed.

Frank breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you. Call me if you find anything or need me. If it's related to Howard I'm sure I can use that to my advantage if I need to leave practice."

"Sounds good. Bye." Nancy hung up the phone, standing up from the kitchen table. It annoyed her that Frank still didn't quite see her as capable of sleuthing by herself, but in the back of her mind, a small voice reminded her of how lucky she'd already been in escaping relatively unharmed from the intruder.

"Where are you going, Nancy?" Mrs. Hardy asked. She was setting down a beautiful breakfast of eggs and toast with homemade strawberry jam for Nancy.

"I really hate to run out on you like this, Mrs. Hardy, especially after you've made such a wonderful-looking meal," Nancy responded, "but it sounds like there's a chance our prime suspect has skipped town. If it's okay with you, I'm going to wake up Joe so we can go see if our man is still around."

"Oh, absolutely," Mrs. Hardy agreed. "It will do him good to be awake earlier than noon every single day. Would you like me to pack up your breakfast for you?"
Nancy was starving, but she also knew that time was of the essence and she wouldn't have time once she arrived at Howard Monroe's house to pull out breakfast and eat. Still, she couldn't find the willpower to turn down the meal. "If you could, that would be wonderful."

Nancy ran up the stairs while her host mother pulled out Ziploc bags and a cooler, barging into Joe's room.

"Joe! Get up! I need your help," Nancy told him. With a few shakes, she finally seemed to be able to get through to him.

"What is it?" Joe groaned. "And what time is it?"

Nancy decided it was probably better for her safety not to tell Joe that it wasn't even nine yet, and instead skipped straight to why she needed his help. "Frank called. Apparently Howard Monroe didn't show up at practice today, and nobody in the cast has any idea as to where he might be."

That got Joe's attention. "What!? Do you think he made a run for it?" He hopped out of bed and slid on some shorts and a shirt.

"We aren't sure," Nancy admitted. "That's why Frank needs us up and working right now. He can't leave rehearsal, but someone needs to get over to Howard's place to see if he's gone." The doorbell rang, but Nancy ignored it until Mrs. Hardy's yell.

"JOE! NANCY!" The two detectives perked up as Joe's mother hollered. "Get down here right now!"

"What? What is it now?" Joe called as he jogged down the stairs, Nancy in hot pursuit. The two came face to face with Mrs. Hardy and a rather pale boy with messy brown hair and bright green eyes standing in the entrance hall.

Mrs. Hardy looked up at them. "Joe, Nancy, this boy is – "

"We know," Joe replied, in shock. Nancy was also stunned by who was standing in the Hardy's house. She'd never met him in person, but it was hard not to recognize him, given how many times his image had been shown on the news alongside two other boys.

"Maverick Lurie," she breathed.

"Hi," he said. It was obvious to Nancy that he didn't really know what to say. If she was being honest with herself, she didn't really know what to say, either. A kid who'd been kidnapped with two of his friends and missing for days had just appeared out of nowhere on the front step of the Hardy's.

"Are you hungry?" Nancy was glad that Joe finally broke the silence.

"Oh, of course he's hungry!" Everyone turned to see Aunt Trudy emerge at the top of the stairs. "Let me prep something for him. If he's been held captive for the last few days like we all suspect, I'm sure he's worked up quite an appetite."

"Actually, he can have my breakfast," Nancy suggested. "It's already prepared, so he doesn't have to wait for it."

"Good idea!" Mrs. Hardy exclaimed. "Are you hungry, Maverick?" The boy nodded. "Alright, well, come with me to the kitchen and I'll serve you Nancy's breakfast. How does some eggs with toast sound? I hope you don't mind scrambled eggs."

Once Mrs. Hardy led Maverick into the other room, with Aunt Trudy in tow, Nancy and Joe adjourned to the former's room, since it was on the first floor.

"Okay, what the hell just happened?" Joe asked as Nancy closed the door.

The girl detective's mind was swimming. "I don't know. We'll have to find out what happened to him, but he doesn't seem to be in a very talkative mood."

Joe nodded slowly. "We also have to call the chief to let him know that one of his missing persons is alive and relatively well-looking at my house."

"'Relatively well-looking?' Sounds like someone needs more sleep."

"Yeah, well, I was working on that until you came to wake me up ten minutes ago," Joe pointed out.

"Touché."

Joe pulled out his phone and dialed the chief's number, bypassing the usual way for civilians to get a hold of the police.

"Hi, Chief Collig, it's Joe, and it's been quite the interesting morning thus far. Maverick Lurie showed up at my place this morning." He waited for a moment as the chief responded. "Yes, you heard me right. The Maverick Lurie is sitting in my kitchen eating breakfast as we speak." Another pause. "We'll be eagerly awaiting your arrival, but until then, Nancy and I will see if we can get anything out of the kid. See you in a bit. Bye."

"So?" Nancy asked expectantly.

"Chief Collig is on his way over along with a couple officers who are working the case. He's also calling the paramedics so they can have a look at Maverick to make sure he doesn't need any further medical attention. If and when he's cleared, the police will inform the family and bring the kid back home."

Nancy opened the door to her room again. "Sounds like we have limited time to get our statement from him."

Joe hesitated. "You know, we've still got other leads to be following right now. I hate to say this, but maybe Monroe let one of the prisoners go at the same time he fled town so we'd be less likely to catch him.

"Could be," Nancy replied after a moment's thought. "You still want to go investigate his house and find out where he is, then."

Joe nodded. "Yep. Plus, you and Frank are the ones who work well with kids. Me, I find them annoying more often than not. Unlike my last trip to Monroe's house, though, I'll make sure to keep either you or Frank updated."

Nancy laughed and led the way out of her room and into the kitchen, where most of the meal which was originally been made for her had already disappeared off the plate in front of Maverick. "Yeah, don't go pulling that off-grid stunt again." Joe grinned, then gave his mother and aunt a hug before he left.

Once he was gone, Nancy pulled out the stool next to Maverick and sat down. "So, Maverick." She held out her hand to give him a handshake, but the boy was too focused on finishing off his breakfast to pay any attention to it. "My name is Nancy Drew. I'm a – "

Finally, the boy stopped eating and turned to her. "I know who you are. And boy, do I have a story for you."

Lots of twists and turns in that chapter. With only five chapters left, Nancy and the Hardy Boys are left, much like you readers, with more questions than answers. Just when they thought they had it all figured out. . . Oh well. Sometimes (most of the time, as it seems for the three detectives) that's how it goes.