A/N: Kimmy, Remey, Shani8: Thank you for pretty much consistently giving feedback! I'm not sure how many people are actually reading the story, but I am glad that you all seem to be enjoying it! :) FYI-- I am trying to deal with, in my own mind, the Frank/Nancy relationship (one way or another), the fact that the story takes place around the anniversary of Iola's death, and the actual mystery (which will begin to pick up) and to tie it all together. This story actually took me about a year and a half to write, so I hope that it will meet your expectations. Thanks again to everyone who gives feedback for your support!

"Fire and Ice"

Chapter 11

"Well, I guess that's it, then," Nancy spoke, stifling a yawn with one hand and glancing at her watch. The time read 8:00 a.m. Taking a deep breath, she looked around the table at which she was seated. Next to her, Frank was staring straight ahead, but she knew him well enough to know that he was deep in thought about something. Beside him, Joe was finishing the last of a very large cup of coffee. Finally, Fenton Hardy and Ezra Collig rounded out the small group gathered in a meeting office at the back of the police station. Trying hard to ignore the small growl in her stomach, Nancy noted with some surprise that she had been up for almost 36 hours now. The press conference outside the station and the sheer magnitude of the manhunt of which she had just taken part reminded her that this was not a dream.

"Yes. I guess so," Fenton spoke up, finally answering Nancy's comment.

The sound of his voice seemed to have an effect on the group, as Frank seemed to snap out of his reverie and Joe finally put down the cup of coffee. Collig remained silent.

"I don't know," Joe finally spoke up. Something about this case was bothering him, and he didn't quite know how to articulate his thoughts. He did know, though, by the looks on the faces of those gathered in the room with him, that the same thought appeared to be on others' minds as well. He continued. "Everything just seems so—anti-climatic, I guess."

"Well, son," Fenton cut in. "I know how you feel, but sometimes things are what they are. There's an old adage of which I'm sure you're familiar, and that is, basically, that sometimes the simplest, most obvious solution really IS the simplest, most obvious solution. It appears to be the case here."

Joe watched as his brother seemed to spring to life all of a sudden. Looking directly at his father, Frank interjected, "Yeah—but you don't believe that here, Dad, do you?" It was more of a statement than a question.

After a pause that was just long enough to confirm Frank's suspicion, Fenton replied, "No matter what, we're not out of the woods yet anyway." Slowly, he exhaled. Both of his sons were right; in his gut, he knew it. But for once in his life, he had absolutely no explanation as to why or how he knew that something was amiss. Still, he did, and he knew that the best way to get to an answer was to listen. He started the dialog casually by mentioning the obvious to the group. "Even IF Roger Timms is dead, and even IF Jimmy Dee is behind bars, we've still got one, very dangerous fugitive at large. Perhaps that's what we all should be concentrating on."

"Aw, come on dad!" Joe found himself getting increasingly frustrated. "You know something is wrong here as well as all of us, but for some reason you're caving into the cops…"

"Enough!" Seemingly out of nowhere Ezra Collig, the normally relatively even-tempered Chief of Police spoke up forcefully, directing everyone's attention to him. Slamming his hand down with a thud on the table, he stood up and, one by one, met everyone's eyes, finally settling on Fenton. "Fenton," he began, "We go way back. I have the utmost respect for you as a detective and as a former officer. I even admit that Frank and Joe, and Nancy here, have all accomplished the formidable task of making names for themselves as detectives and are, in their young lives, quite good." He was growing more animated as he went on. "But this is IT! Case CLOSED! IF there was any doubt that I had that Callie or Vanessa was in any real danger here, or that we got the wrong guy, you KNOW I'd pursue it. As it is, I have officers Jacobs and Daley on constant police surveillance for the girls until suspect #3 is caught. But I cannot let you all go on raising doubts here about what we've done already! As it is, it was a favor to you," he paused, raising his hands in exasperation and motioning to Fenton, "To even get the kids involved in the case. We don't need bad press and…" He spoke more slowly now for emphasis, "WE HAVE INDISPUTABLE EVIDENCE THAT EVRYTHING HAS BEEN DONE CORRECTLY AND WE HAVE OUR MAN."

"We're NOT kids!" Joe interjected, "And we're also not doubting our faith in you. We all know that you've done everything that you could, but aren't you in the least bit—bothered by all of this?!"

"NO!" Collig fired back. Finally, he turned to Fenton and said directly, "My friend, you have exactly 10 minutes here to finish up what you need to. I don't expect they'll be any problem, right?"

"Thanks, Ezra," Fenton responded evenly, shaking the Chief's hand and refusing to fuel his fire. "We'll be out shortly. I'll talk with you if I need to."

With a grunt, Collig turned and left the room in a huff.

"What's with…" Joe began, until Fenton held up a hand. "Stop, Joe. It's been a long night for all of us. You know what? Collig may just be right, AND he has extended himself for all of us. It DOES look like an airtight case. We can't go on instinct alone here. Look at what we have and tell me your problem with it. Frank? Nancy? Go on, too." Fenton looked at the faces of the young detectives around him and decided to see if he could work through what they all knew in order to see what they didn't know.

"Okay," Nancy began again. It had been an interesting sight to watch the Hardys, all three of them, work together. Still, she knew she belonged in this game and could play at their level. "Timms was found dead on the property of Jimmy Dee, seemingly of blunt force trauma to the head. Based on DNA evidence, he was one of the attackers on the Leslie Smith case—that's indisputable. We also know that Jimmy Dee was one of the attackers as well, also based on DNA evidence." Nancy paused for a deep breath; she'd never seen a case like this before; it was too easy. Then, she continued. "Guys, Collig has a point. Dee confessed to murdering Timms, saying that he was about to blow the whistle on the Smith case. THEN, he confessed to the rapes of Leslie, Charlotte and Mandy, and the murders of Leslie and Mandy. He had no alibi at any of those times. PLUS, he gave us the name of Charlie Hughes, the third assailant in the Smith case, and the one who's still at large. Even though Hughes has no prior record, he HAS been MIA for over a year, seemingly vanishing into thin air. Since he's an ex-Marine, he would have the strength to carry out the attacks, AND he knew both Dee and Timms; they grew up together. Plus, his DNA match is also in military records, so he's the other positive match. He's the one still at large. Finally..."

Before Nancy could continue, Frank finished her thought. "Not only did he confess, but his picture… The one feature that stands out is those ice-blue eyes, which are EXACTLY what Mandy, Charlotte, Cal and Vanessa described." Frank took another glance at the picture before him, supplied by a reticent Collig at Fenton's request. Holding back a shudder, he finished his thought. "So everything seems fine. I mean, we have a confession, a matching physical description, and DNA evidence."

Fenton shrugged. "So why are you all bothered by this, other than the fact that Hughes is still at large? We need to fill in the holes here, if there are any."

Joe stood up and began pacing as Frank and Nancy both took out notepads. Fenton simply listened.

"I'll start," Joe began, feeling better not being confined to the chair. "One—Why could the police catch Dee so easily? He'd gone out of his way NOT to get caught. The whole city knew of the chase. He was caught on a major highway, speeding, drawing attention to himself. Plus, he didn't run. Why?"

Now Frank continued, picking up on Joe's line of thought. "Two, and most importantly, it was supposedly Dee, and Dee alone, responsible for the last two attacks on Charlotte and Mandy. HE threatened all of the girls and swore revenge. But look at him! Yes, those eyes- they're creepy—they stand out. But he's… small! He can't be over 5'4" tall."

"Well, that doesn't mean he can't overpower a woman," Nancy cut in.

"No," Joe shot back, "it doesn't. But it DOES pose a problem with how he could have killed a 6'2" Roger Timms with a blow to the head, doesn't it? And Charlotte, I know for a FACT, is not only tall, but she'd been taking self-defense courses for ages."

"Maybe that's why she escaped?" Nancy queried.

"Maybe," Joe responded. "Maybe not."

"And why does a guy so set on personal revenge for some reason suddenly rat out the third guy?" Frank interjected. "Plus, how do you go from a guy who, for years, had no real record to speak of except for a petty crime as a teenager, to a murderer and rapist?! AND… he held a respectable job, seemed to mind his own business.. It doesn't make sense."

"You're forgetting one important fact," Fenton reminded them. "Leslie Smith was Dee's ex-girlfriend, who apparently dumped him, which provided him with a motive to kill her in his mind. From what I can ascertain of Dee's past, he was a bit of an outcast, which would presumably limit his dating options. If that's the case, then a breakup with a first real love would be devastating."

In the wake of overwhelming evidence, the room grew silent once again.

Finally, Fenton spoke up. "Boys, Nancy, I'll see you later. I need to go over the evidence and speak with Collig again. Until then…" Before leaving the room, he turned to his sons and spoke directly, "Just make sure that Callie and Vanessa are watched, okay? Just… in case…." With that, he vanished into the corridor.

Nancy looked at the Hardys and was suddenly overcome with exhaustion. Yawning, she found herself smiling apologetically. "Sorry, guys. I think I'll head to the hotel now, catch up with Ned, and get some shut-eye." Then, a thought occurred to her. "IF you guys are satisfied with the outcome here, and there's nothing I can do to help you further, maybe I should head back in a day or two to River Heights. There's not much of a mystery if your suspect is caught and confessed!" She smiled wryly.

"Are you satisfied?" Frank asked, meeting her eyes.

Nancy swallowed hard. Did Frank mean was she satisfied with the case? Or—was there something else he was hinting at? She honestly didn't know. Maybe she didn't want to know.

"Well," she stammered in reply, "I guess I could always be needed." What?! Why am I playing this word game? Is Frank playing it, too? Deciding that she ought to stop thinking so much, she hurriedly stated, "I'll stay."

"We can drive you back to the hotel," Frank offered.

"Uh, no—that's okay," Nancy replied. "Ned'll pick me up." Ned! With a start, she realized that she hadn't heard from him all day. A quick glance at her cell-phone revealed that he hadn't called, either; that was unusual. Still, a part of her that she had learned long ago to trust was telling her that she ought to keep a distance from Frank for a while... and that she needed to see Ned.

"You sure?" Frank asked.

"Yes, she's sure," Joe cut in abruptly. Again, he didn't like what he was seeing. "I'm sure Nancy wouldn't say something if she didn't mean it, right?" He looked at her.

"Okaaayyyy," Nancy replied, drawing out the word and giving him a quizzical look. "Yeah, I'm sure. I'll see you later. Be safe."

"You, too," Frank replied. "Thanks, Nance."

With a small wave, Nancy left to call Ned.

Whirling around, Joe faced his brother. He was tired, irritable, worried, and angry at the same time, which he felt was all leading up to him being about ready to roll up into a big ball of fury, directed at Frank. He knew it, he felt it coming on, and, for once, he didn't care.

"Let's go!" Joe shouted to his brother.

"What's the matter with you?!" Frank shot back, stunned.

"We are going to go back to my apartment, NOW, where I will see Vanessa and I'm sure you'll see Callie. That is, IF you make it that far!" With that, he grabbed Frank's arm and started dragging him to the car.

"What the--" Frank began, tearing his arm away from Joe, but following him to their car nonetheless.

"I'm driving," Joe growled. "Get in."

As Frank was about to pause at the passenger door, Joe motioned him in, forcefully. "Now."

Having no choice, Frank, shocked, simply stared at his brother as he entered the car.

Slamming the car into reverse with enough force to knock them both against their seats, Joe paused only long enough to stop, put the gear into forward, and glance sidelong at his brother, stating in a fiery tone that chilled Frank, "We need to have a little chat. And there's no escape!"

With that, Joe peeled out of the parking lot, away from one pair of ice blue eyes….

Towards another.