This chapter is a little shorter, but we're approaching the end...

Chocolate pudding to the reviewers of chapter 19: mereditholiver, KennaC, JackieJacks, Confidential Brunette, leyapearl, rangermaid, Mrs. Frank Hardy

I've been asked if people can do pictures or other art depicting parts of my story. My answer - Absolutely yes! But if you are planning to post it somewhere, I would ask two things - you show me the finished product so I can acknowledge you, and that you somehow acknowledge me or link back to this story. I'm excited to see what any of you come up with!

Oh, and the Italian Job homage was Frank giving Nancy an American flag camera pin and telling her she was "going patriotic" :)

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize. I am a new owner of DirectTV and DVR. Still getting used to it...

The Cracked Badge

Chapter 21

Nancy sat down hard on the edge of the tub. Learning she was currently inside Chief Clarke's house was not something she was expecting. She didn't panic – her training had taught her better than that – but she knew her next move required some strategizing. No matter what Joe said, this was an opportunity not to be missed.

"Nancy, Joe's right. This is not something we were prepared for. Just get out of there. We can come up with another plan tonight," Frank said, his voice strained.

"Sorry guys, but this is our one shot to really get a chance to investigate. I see no reason to pull out now. I'm fine."

"I think she's right," Fenton said, "objectively speaking. But only if you're comfortable with this."

"Of course," Nancy said, trying not to scoff. "I've been in far more dire situations than this. And that's not including my time with the CIA."

She heard Frank humph in her ear, but she ignored him. "I'm going to ask her for a drink of water, maybe get lost on the way to the kitchen."

"Okay. Be careful," Fenton said.

Nancy flushed the toilet and washed her hands for good measure before slipping open the door as quietly as possible. Looking down the hallway, she could clearly see the way to the living room, making her getting lost story a little less believable. She turned in the other direction, anyway.

All of the doors were closed. The first one she came to seemed to be some kind of guest room. She quickly left and turned to the door opposite. Turning the nob, she found that the light was already on in a home office of sorts.

Moving fast, she approached the other side of the desk to take a look through some files left open. Flipping through the papers, Nancy saw something that made her muscles freeze up.

"Joe, where did you say she was from?" she whispered.

"I didn't," he said.

"Colombia," Frank answered instead. "At least, that's where the very delicate picture frame was from. Why?"

"Are you getting a clear picture of these papers?" She asked him instead of answering.

"Yes, but I'm not sure what I'm seeing."

"I recognize these images from something the CIA recently sent me. I was going to mention it once we were finished with this case. I didn't dream that they'd be related."

"Nancy, out with it," Joe said, impatient.

"Drugs. This woman is part of a Colombian drug cartel. They've been bringing in crack cocaine through the ports along the coast and smuggling them down to New York City."

There was a brief silence on the other side of the communication system.

"Okay, now you really have to get out of there," Frank said, breaking the pause. "This is way bigger than some small town murder investigation."

"I know. Believe me, even I'm not stupid enough to mess with Colombians without proper backup."

Joe started to scoff at being deemed inadequate, but Frank shushed him.

After making sure that everything was back the way she found it, Nancy hurried out the door and closed it behind her. Just as she turned to face the hallway, Mrs. Clarke came around the corner. The woman froze, eyeing the door behind Nancy.

"Is everything all right?" she asked carefully.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Nancy bubbled. "I was looking for the kitchen hoping to score a glass of water and I got completely turned around. This is a beautiful house, by the way."

Mrs. Clarke didn't say anything for a moment, instead she kept looking at Nancy with her sharp gaze.

"Nothing to worry about. Come, I'll take you to the kitchen." She turned and beckoned Nancy to follow her.

"Oh, it's okay. I really need to get going. Lots more deliveries, you know."

"No, I must insist. I will be offended if you do not partake of my hospitality."

Nancy wondered if the woman was trying to crack a joke, but there was always the chance that she was being deadly serious – deadly being the key word. Left with no choice, Nancy followed Mrs. Clarke down the hallway and into the living room. The kitchen opened up to the side of the room. But Nancy didn't take the time to process that, because who she saw sitting on the couch was much more startling.

"Is that?" Joe asked.

"Yeah, that's the shadow man," Frank said grimly.

Now that Nancy was seeing him up close, his features looked vaguely Colombian also, though not nearly as pronounced as in Mrs. Clarke.

"This is my younger brother, Marco," she said as she continued into the kitchen to fetch Nancy a glass. "And my name is Maria."

Returning, she handed her the full glass and said, "Why don't you sit down and get to know him? I have something I need to check on."

Nancy felt a strong hand with sharp fingernails push down on her shoulder until she sat on the couch across from Marco.

"Oh, damn," Frank said. "I think you've been made, Nancy. Get out, now!"

Nancy shook her head, even as she realized that they wouldn't be able to see it. Unless she tried to dash out of the probably-locked door, she didn't have a way out of this situation.

Fenton's voice in her head calmed her, saying, "Okay, let's think this through. Mrs. Clarke is heading up a drug cartel. Reed is clearly part of it. Obviously the chief is a plant to help everything run smoothly, husband or no. What about this Marco guy?"

"He's the killer," Joe said quietly.

"How do you know?" Vanessa asked. It was the first time Nancy had heard the girl speak the entire time she'd been in the house.

"It's the eyes," was all he said.

Nancy agreed. Marco hadn't said anything to her. He sat and stared at her, not menacing, not friendly. Just blank. He was the one who got rid of anyone who got in the way. She sipped her water to have an excuse to look away.

"Besides the eyes," Frank added, "It just makes sense. There's a reason we've been calling him the shadow man. He stays under the radar to do the dirty work."

Before they could do any more brainstorming, Nancy's heart picked up a notch when she saw Marco's eyes leave her face and focus on something behind her.

"Why don't you tell me who you really are?" An icy voice asked.

Nancy spun around in her seat. Maria was back and any pretense of hospitality was gone.

"I'm not sure what you mean! I'm Jodi, and I deliver flowers. Look, whoever you are, I am going to get fired if I don't finish those deliveries." Nancy stood up and started heading for the entryway.

Before she had a chance to move three feet a hand was at her neck and she was held tightly against a small but strong male body.

Maria took a step forward. "That was strike one. You can guess what happens when we get to three. So I'll ask again. Who are you, and who sent you?"

Nancy clamped her mouth shut and glared at the woman. There was no reason to keep lying, and she wasn't about to tell her the truth. She could have stomped on the man's foot or elbowed him in the gut, but she was outnumbered and unarmed. She decided instead to see how it played out.

The voices in her head, on the other hand, were less than calm.

"Shit, we have got to do something," Frank said, borderline frantic.

"Calm down, Frank," Fenton said. "We'll get her out of there."

"I've got to get in there. I'll pretend I'm someone else," Frank said, ignoring his father.

"No!" Nancy exclaimed, hoping that Frank understood that her command was for him.

"No, what?" Maria said, misunderstanding.

Or at least, that's what Nancy thought until the woman got within inches of her face and studied her. Then she pulled hard on Nancy's ear until she could dig out the com. Nancy tried to breathe through the pain of fingernails cutting through the thin flesh of her ear. The next thing to go was the flag pin attached to her shirt.

Holding the com up to her face, Maria whispered, "Whoever you are, you are going to sorely regret this. Once I torture this girl for all the information she holds in that pretty little head of hers, you will never see her again. Then I'll come after you."

Then she threw both the com and the pin on the floor and stomped on them with her spiked heel until they broke.

Oh dear... Small cliffie! Reviews are love :)