A/N: Apologies for the delay. The site was being ornery and I couldn't upload when I wanted to. As promised, I've returned to Nancy for a little bit. Things are also getting interesting for the Hardys. Please read thoroughly and enjoy!

Chapter 10

"You've got that look in your eye," Hannah Gruen said, with a knowing smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Nancy looked up from the Chicago Tribune piece she had been reading, realising she'd been lost in her thoughts; her plate of food half-finished.

"What look?" Nancy asked innocently.

"The look that you get when you're thinking hard about a difficult case," the older woman responded. "I've seen it too many times over the years, Nancy Drew! Something's caught your attention, hasn't it?"

Nancy frowned and folded the paper. "In a way, I guess," she said. "Ann Granger - you remember her - she once retained Dad to defend her when she refused to reveal one of her sources…"

Hannah nodded, sat down opposite Nancy, and said: "I remember. She used to write for the Morning Record."

"Right," Nancy said, and passed the paper to the other woman to read. "I think she's turned up something interesting here. It looks like Ann's found some discrepancies in a deadly house fire in Chicago. Skip to the part where she interviews the family members."

Hannah scanned the contents of the paper. "Hmm…"

"Now, I know that those arson investigators found a cause for the fire and everything, but I wonder if that's just a smokescreen, if you'll pardon the pun."

"Why would they do that?" Hannah asked.

"I don't know," Nancy said with a shrug. "Maybe something else is going on that they don't want publicized just yet. There could be some details they don't want getting out if it's a criminal investigation. We do it all the time as a police department when we don't want sensitive stuff getting out…We use the media to release false or misleading information if we think it will help us catch the real criminals."

"Nancy," Hannah said in a warning voice, "you're not thinking of involving yourself in this, are you? I thought you were home so you could have time away from that sort of thing."

For a moment, Nancy was conflicted. She had a desire to follow up on the article with Ann, yet what Hannah said also had a grounding effect.

"You're right, Hannah," she finally said. "I don't know what I was thinking. I'm sure they have everything under control with that case. Besides, what do I know about arson investigations?"

Hannah smiled and re-folded the section of the paper.

Nancy went back to eating the remains of her breakfast, still tasty even though cold. She knew however, that no matter how hard she tried to push thoughts of the dead members of the Shorter family from her mind, the more they would gnaw at her. While not stated explicitly, Ann's piece had raised too many unanswered questions. I might not get around to it today, Nancy thought as she read through the comic strips, but I have a feeling I'm going to be catching up with Ann very soon.

xx xx xx xx xx xx

Frank sat in the passenger-side seat, cell phone in hand. Chief De Groot managed to catch them before Joe started the car. He'd wanted to ensure Frank was still comfortable taking on the role of informing the Hunters and Westons of the unfolding tragedy. He also offered his assistance, indicating he could send one of this staff along with them as an official representative of the Meritsville department.

"I just don't feel right you doing it on your own," De Groot said. "There's ways we handle the delivery of such delicate information. It's best done in person."

"I told them I'd call back with news…I don't want them to think I was holding back on them." Frank said solemnly.

"Well, you're the one they've entrusted for this investigation…and you know the family better than I ever could. Please tell them I will still be in touch as far as arranging for the release of the bodies and such."

Frank winced.

"…And I just really want to impress upon you it's been my experience that nobody likes being told over the phone that a loved one is dead."

Frank's thumb was now resting on the tiny power button on the cell; his thoughts a maelstrom of conflicting words, phrases and euphemisms. His body swayed with the gentle motion of the moving car. His gaze was fixed steadily on the blank face of the phone when everything seemed to turn cloudy and unfocused. Tears.

"Hey," Joe's voice was a gentle tone. "Frank, are you OK?"

"I can't do it, Joe. How can I call those families and tell them about…about this? I must have been out of my mind to think I could!"

"We'll tell them together. They're all waiting at Callie's for any updates from us, anyway."

Frank closed his eyes and took a deep breath and turned to his brother gratefully. He pocketed the phone. "Thanks, Joe. Sorry I lost it there."

"People are dead, Frank. And we're pretty sure they're dead because someone murdered them. No one's going to think any less of you for grieving for them."

Frank nodded and rubbed his eyes. "You're right. Thanks."

Joe turned his attention back to the road and switched on his lights in order to achieve better visibility in the falling darkness. They were just leaving Meritsville limits when Joe's own cell phone began its jangle. Joe slowed and pulled off onto the shoulder to answer.

"Joe Hardy speaking," he answered.

"Mr. Hardy, this is Detective Kit Faulkner of the NYPD calling…You were inquiring about the case of vandalism involving the tire-slashing, right?"

"Yes! Did you find out anything, detective?"

"As a matter of fact, something slightly abnormal did show up upon closer investigation of all seven affected vehicles," Detective Faulkner said. "While the tires on the seven vehicles were indeed slashed, the red SUV in question had its tires slashed in a markedly different fashion."

"What do you mean?" Joe asked, with Frank leaning in close to pick up snippets of the conversation.

"I mean that it looks like someone was really determined to make sure that SUV wouldn't be going anywhere. The other six vehicles had what we could rightly call superficial slashes. A few here and there were deep, of course, and we mightn't have noticed the difference on casual inspection."

"So what you're saying is-"

"I'm saying that all the gouges were definitely deeper and more numerous on the SUV. And I can tell you it doesn't look like any 'random' incident to me."

xx xx xx xx xx xx xx

A tall man in his early 30's, clean-shaven and wearing a dark-colored topcoat flipped open his cell phone and dialled an unlisted number. The call filtered through a secure line and he waited for the other party to pick up.

"What is it, Brad?" came the voice he was expecting.

"We have a problem."

"Where are you? What kind of 'problem'?"

"I'm back in upstate New York," Brad responded. "I've been keeping an eye on the developments regarding the Hunter case. Police up in Meritsville just found the bodies."

There was silence for a few moments.

Brad knew his news was unwelcome, but nevertheless needed to be reported.

"We are still in possession of the child's items of clothing from that first night," Brad's party said. "We keep such things for occasions such as this."

"What do you want me to do?" Brad asked.

"Have you ever heard the story of Joseph in the Old Testament? His jealous brothers sold him into slavery and dipped his coat in the blood of an animal so their father would believe his beloved son was dead. We'll get a sample of the child's blood. You will then plant the child's clothes in an area that will make it easy for authorities to find, since they will undoubtedly be searching for any evidence of the child."

"Understood," Brad said with a grin. Then his demeanour changed, as the second reason for his call came to mind. "Uh, there is something else, though…"

"What?" the other voice sounded almost exasperated.

"The cops in Meritsville weren't alone. Some outsiders have been poking around. Two young men. Looks like they've got the full cooperation of the authorities, too."

"Who are they?" The other voice was suddenly more alert.

"I don't know yet," Brad said sheepishly. He silently rebuked himself, realising he should have been more prepared.

"Then find out!"

Brad had to put some distance between his ear and his phone. The shouted reply was expected, as was the volume with which it was delivered.

"I'll get right on it," Brad said, his tone placating.

"Good. Let me know if you require any additional assistance. Eliminating them shouldn't be a problem if it becomes necessary, of course…"

"Of course," Brad concurred, and terminated the call.

xx xx xx xx xx xx xx

"Frank! Joe! What are you doing here? I thought you were going to call…" Callie's face held a look of momentary confusion; her voice carried an anxious edge.

The Hardys had just arrived from their trip into Meritsville, and had resignedly but dutifully made their way to Callie and Daniel Hunter's home.

They entered the house, and saw the assembled members of the Hunter and Weston families staring at them expectantly; some with wide, hopeful eyes. Others were downcast and pensive.

"What is it? Do you have news? What did you find out?" Callie peppered them with questions.

Frank said, "Callie…please…"

She took the cue and was silent.

"Everyone, please have a seat," Frank instructed as calmly as he could, all the while knowing he was staring disaster in the face. He was fully aware that the next few words that would spill from his mouth would bring untold grief and agony to those he was facing. But knowing that Joe was there, helping him shoulder the burden was something of a comfort.

"I won't sit!" Roberta Weston declared defiantly. "I won't! You tell us now what you know, Frank."

Frank looked at her helplessly. "Please…" was all he could allow himself to say. He wanted to say It's for your own good, butheld his tongue. He saw her husband, Larry, take her hand and whisper something softly to her. By now, she was shaking visibly, and was on the verge of tears. Clearly, she was expecting the worst.

"You found them, didn't you?" Martin Hunter ventured quietly. It was more a statement than a question. His wife, Janice, gripped his hands and pursed her lips. Callie also held her husband's hands, fingers intertwined.

"Yes." Frank said simply, in reply to Martin's question. "The Meritsville police uncovered two bodies that were buried in two pits. The clothes match the descriptions they were given. The identification on one was confirmed to be Cal's. I'm sorry."

The shocked and horrified responses to this revelation all seemed to happen at once:

"Oh, God!" Roberta exclaimed, and her knees buckled. Larry held her, and she managed to pull herself back up. He ushered her to an empty sofa and she buried her head in his shoulder, barely succeeding in muffling her sobs.

"No," Jodi Weston whispered, uncomprehendingly shaking her head, "how could this have happened?"

"He was my baby brother," Danny said vacantly. "He was my only brother…" Callie was weeping softly, her arms now encircling her husband's shoulders in a comforting gesture.

Janice Hunter sat as still as a sculpture with a dazed expression on her face. Martin's face was briefly contorted in a mixture of emotional pain and resignation.

Delayed reaction, Joe thought with a heavy and knowing heart as he looked at Cal's mother, Janice. While he hadn't been present when the Mortons were informed of Iola's death, Chet had later talked about his mother's state of cold, stunned silence when that tragic news came. The floodgates had only opened in the week following the service for Iola. He supposed the same might hold true for Janice, as well.

"I'm so sorry." Frank managed to choke out, feeling he ought to say something; anything. But he really just didn't know what else to say or do. He eventually decided silence was best.

"We're both sorry," Joe added sincerely, remembering his place. Larry offered them a grateful look in spite of himself.

"How?" Jodi's face was one of bewilderment. "How did it happen?"

Frank looked at her with pity, knowing that he wasn't about to reveal any of the gruesome details he'd learned. Instead he said, "The official cause of death is yet to be determined. But the Meritsville authorities, uh, Chief De Groot, will be directly in touch very shortly."

"You said the police found two bodies," Martin Hunter said, again in his usual quiet tone.

Suddenly every head swivelled in his direction. Martin looked up at the Hardys. "If they only found Cal and Sandra, what has happened to Andy? What has happened to my grandson?"

A/N: Yes, I know! Everyone wants to know where the babies are! I absolutely promise that will be revealed. You've just got to be patient with me, though I know some of you already have your suspicions! (You smart people!)