Chapter 25

Joe

The next morning felt like waking up from anesthesia after a surgery. The hours preluding sleep were blurred, and I felt like I had stitches down the front of my body—a nasty seal-up job after something important had been extracted from my insides. There was no taking it back, now.

Telling her everything wasn't even the worst part. In fact, I was almost surprised by how easily the words spilled from my mouth like they'd been waiting at the floodgates for two years. The worst part was listening to her response—first shock, then more questions, then the sagacious advice I'd heard from countless others: you have to forgive yourself. Never did those words echo in my mind so long than when Nancy spoke them. The sound of her voice haunted me all night long.

She didn't understand. I couldn't forgive myself. I couldn't extinguish the pain, I could only throw a sheet over it. I could only hide it, ignore it, escape from myself in the moment like some people escape from themselves at a bar. Nobody could hear the person sobbing at the back of the room if the music was pumping loud enough.

I could hide it around almost everyone. Except for Nancy. At first, I had no idea what it was that made me absolutely lose my grip around her. I'd slowly, unconsciously fallen for her. I wasn't aware of it at first—no, I thought I had everything under control as usual. But then boom, consciousness returned and there I was with saltwater-filled lungs from the oceans in her eyes.

That fact scared me. Getting close to someone was foreign ground. I had to know if I was running onto a minefield. I had to know if she felt the same way.

My expert half-coward half-man plan involved going back to that library I loved so much. It was the only place I'd managed to find a computer and printer in this city—except for Fango's office. But I wasn't about to ask if I could borrow his computer. Not after I'd broken in earlier. That would just be…overstepping the mark.

So I typed out the letter in absolute agony for three hours (literally) and printed it off, feeling like I'd left a sizable chunk of my heart stuck in the computer.

As I walked to the Ca, I begged my intelligent designer to please grace me with Nancy's absence. The letter couldn't be given, it had to be left. She would have to find it. Just like she'd found the other notes from me. I couldn't deal with the inevitable conversation that would follow the opening of that letter. I mean, I could deal with it. Just not right now.

I stopped in front of the Ca Nascosta and looked up at the terra cotta walls glowing in the brightness of the sun. If Nancy was gone, then I was almost certain that her roommate would be there. She would probably be working at that little desk in the lobby with the notebooks full of German writing—but I had to walk through the lobby to get to Nancy's bedroom. Leaving the note anywhere other than her bedroom wasn't even an option for me. I didn't want it to fall into the wrong hands or risk someone (like Helena Berg) opening it.

There was one other way in, and that was on the river side of the Ca. Sure, there were no doors on that level, but who said I couldn't climb? I was having flashbacks to the stakeout at the Palazzo Orpello as I scoped out my best footholds and started to scale up the side of the building. It was somewhere around ten o'clock in the morning and the streets were pretty empty, so I was safe from busybodies who might wonder who's the dude climbing up the Ca in a black hoodie, jeans, Converse, and sunglasses? I slaughtered discretion.

I landed softly on the second story balcony, trying to melt into the six inches of wall that bolstered the door on either side. I peered through the pane of glass closest to my face, scanning the room for any sign of life. Nope. Nothing. I eased the door open and listened for a trace of sound coming from the bathroom. Silence again. I let myself in.

All I needed to do was leave the letter on her bed, which was neatly made. Assuming that Helena was just outside the door, I quickly did the fatal deed and got out of there.

Once I was back out on the balcony, I decided to take a shortcut—or a long cut, depending on your perspective—up instead of down, and over the roof of the Ca, which would inevitably bring me back to the front patio. The roof was flat, and therefore cake to pull myself up onto. It was all dusty and baking in the full sun. I took my time getting to the other side, enjoying the scenery as much as possible considering everything.

On my way to the edge of the roof, I also caught a glimpse of the lower altana, where an old woman with leathery tan skin was reclining in a lawn chair, sunning herself. Margherita Faubourg, I presumed. Attempting, as always, to be overtly friendly, I wanted to wave and ask her if I presumed correctly, but it wasn't quite the time or the place.

So I jogged to the edge of the roof and jumped off, hoping that my aim for the stairs was accurate enough to save my life. It was, but the landing was a little lower than I'd remembered, and I ended up almost falling down the stairs and making a ridiculous amount of noise. But no one heard. Hopefully.

The patio looked exactly the same as it had the day before. Nothing had been moved or touched or even breathed on, for that matter—nothing except the small square of yellow paper that was lying on the table, just begging to be blown away by the light wind that was stirring up some leaves on the cobblestone. I snatched up the note and gave it a quick read. It was printed by a typewriter, and I couldn't help but notice how all the A's were faded, as if that key was on its way out.

Joe,

Would you mind running an errand for me? I seem to have lost my Samantha Quick glasses. It would be awesome if you could go to the kiosk outside Banco dell' Oro and grab me a new pair. You can just leave them in my bedroom and I'll pay you back later. Thanks so much!

Nancy

I read the note a few times, feeling a little surprised, before slipping it into my back pocket. It was strange, being typewritten—but Nancy was just the kind of girl who would do cliché vintage things like write notes on an old fashioned typewriter. So I headed off to find her some new sunglasses.

Thankfully I remembered the way to Banco dell' Oro and the walk wasn't a big deal. I actually kind of enjoyed the warm, sunlight and the way the cold air felt in my lungs. Everything was (relatively) chill, so I could sort of relax, shrugging the tension out of my back.

The kiosk at Banco dell' Oro was like a self-serve deal, and believe it or not, there was only one pair of sunglasses left. They must've been popular? I didn't know. They were black and generic enough, so I paid for them and headed back to the Ca.

I casually entered through the front door and instantly felt like a burglar as Helena spun around in her seat and shot me a surprised glance.

"Joseph, vight?" She forced a pinched smile. "Vhat brings you here?"

"Oh nothing," I sighed the words, shrugging for the unimportance effect. "I just had to grab some sunglasses for Nancy. She wanted me to leave them in her room."

"Ah." Helena nodded and went back to work. Apparently she didn't care who left random things in Nancy's bedroom.

I ditched the sunglasses on her bed, right next to the letter. The letter that I was too cowardly to sign. Maybe the connection of the sunglasses and the note would give her an implication of whom it was from. Not like she needed an implication. I mean, who else could it possibly be from? She was a detective. She would absolutely get it.

Back in the lobby, I turned to Helena—who was writing in her notepad and ignoring my presence—and asked, "Do you know where Nancy is, by the way?"

She shrugged. "She vent out earlier. With her boyfriend."

Not gonna lie—that last word, however blatantly used, kicked me in the gut. "Boyfriend?" I repeated.

"Vell, I suppose I can't say zat for zertain, because she did deny it on zeveral occasions." Helena smiled coyly and shrugged one shoulder. "But vhy else vould she spend zo much time vith him?"

I pretended that she didn't just nail my heart to the wall and throw tomatoes at it. I nodded and said, "I, uh…I don't know. Thanks Helena." Then I left.

Learning information about the boyfriend wasn't helping me at all. I had to distract myself with something until Nancy read my letter and decided to come and talk to me. She knew where I was staying, and now it was up to me to just wait. As torturous as that idea sounded.

My plan was set, but it got slightly derailed. I was walking down the street from the Ca, and not ten yards away, I passed a dude who caught my attention. He was all dressed in black, not appearing very discreet (but hey, who was I to judge, right?) He was looking around way too much. Not in the dumbstruck touristy sense, but in the hopefully-no-one-is-watching sense. He was no tourist. I could just tell.

So I ducked into the nearest alleyway, pressing myself against the terra cotta wall and listening to his footsteps continue down the street. I closed my eyes and calculated how far he would be from the Ca entrance, based on my own pacing. Four steps. Three, two, one…

The footsteps stopped. I crept closer to the edge of the wall, catching a glimpse of the street. The guy had stopped right in front of the patio entrance, just as I'd anticipated. He glanced around, but I ducked before he saw me. More footsteps. They faded slightly, muffled by the walls of the patio. They stopped. They came again. Outside, in the street. Coming towards my hiding place. I tried to melt into the wall, tried not to breathe. He walked passed the alley. He didn't see me.

I waited a few seconds, making sure that he was out of sight before stepping out onto the street, making my way to the Ca entrance again and diving inside. On the table, he'd left a note. It was square and yellow and typewritten. A dull realization thudded into my heart as I picked it up and glanced at the chunk of text.

Samantha,

You are required to meet us tonight at Casa dei Giochi. Come right after sunset. We hold information that we feel you have the right to know. It is about time we all understand each other. Do not be late.

I stared at the note, feeling myself swallow hard. The A'swere faded. That meant this note and the note from "Nancy" were actually both from the same person. They were both typed on the same machine.

My heart rate started picking up as the implications of this summons hit me and started to make sense. They wanted Nancy. They had figured out that she wasn't the real Samantha Quick, and now they were trying to catch her. They knew her well. There was no better way to catch Nancy Drew than to bait your hook with information. She was going to fall into their hands and they were going to dispose of her however they wanted to. But only if she found the note, and she wouldn't. Because immediately, it went into my back pocket.

I understood it almost perfectly—they wanted to catch Nancy in the act. Why did they want her to have new sunglasses? But why did they stage that note for me to go and buy her a new pair of sunglasses—sunglasses that looked just like her old ones? It seemed like such a minor detail. Unless...

It hit me.

Unless the glasses were bugged.

Now that made perfect sense. That would explain why there was only one pair of glasses at the kiosk—because they were equipped with a tracking device. These people were smart—smarter than I was, at the moment. They'd hijacked Nancy's name in order for me do their dirty work and cover their tracks for them. It was flipping brilliant.

I had to get the glasses back. So without even thinking about Helena Berg or a cover story, I burst into the Ca through the front door. Helena wasn't at her desk, thank God. Nobody was there, in fact. But I could hear high-heeled footsteps approaching, so I rushed into Nancy's bedroom and slammed the door shut behind me.

I didn't have much time. If Helena came in, I'd be such a dead idiot. So I grabbed the glasses and locked myself in the bathroom, sinking to the ground with my back pressed against the door. The shades appeared perfectly normal at first glance, but as I got a closer look, I noticed that the temples were uneven—one was just slightly thicker than the other.

Having no pocketknife, I looked around for something that could work in its place—a nail file on the edge of the sink. Its sharp end pried off the plastic casing of the sunglasses' left temple with ease, revealing the tiny microchip laid inside. It was a bug, I was positive. The reckless side of me wanted to pull it out and flush it down the toilet, but the strategizing side of me decided against it.

What would happen if the wearer of these sunglasses were to follow the directions on the latest note? What if they were to go to Casa dei Giochi right after sunset and take the sunglasses with them? What if that person was me? What would happen? I was absolutely not going to let Nancy go—not that I had control over what she did, but I did have control over whether or not she saw the note. I couldn't let her risk her life. Because if anything happened to her, I just… I wouldn't be able to handle it.

Snapping the casing back on the glasses, I locked the bug inside and got to my feet. I felt like I was stepping up to the gallows in someone's stead. This was Nancy's war, but I was going to fight it. I had to. I headed for the balcony door, deciding that exiting through the lobby would be way too risky.

But I stopped short. I heard voices—familiar ones—just outside the bedroom door. They belong to Helena and Nancy. There were footsteps drawing closer and suddenly my heart was up in my throat, pumping.

No.

"Ah. Back already?" Helena asked.

"Yes, but…only for a little while…" came Nancy's muffled reply, which sounded louder as it undeniably approached the door.

I didn't have time to get to the balcony and out of sight. She was going to open the door in literally two seconds and catch me. I had to think fast. But that was the problem—I couldn't think. I just stood there, frozen to the carpet like an absolute idiot.

The doorknob turned.

FlightFeathers: I'm glad that last chapter didn't feel rushed...haha yeah a lot happened there. :') Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed this installment!