Chapter Twenty-Five

Nancy blinked, feeling her brain was struggling to process what just happened. She stared at her cell phone in her hand long after the guy had ended the call.

They're dead. Gone. They've been shot already, and this is all just a trap. A ruse. Bess and George are hurt. Bleeding. My friends need me and I'm not there for them. I wanna hold their hands, they can't die alone in some crappy old warehouse. I gotta…gotta call someone. Call the cops. Call the hospitals. Call Dad. They're hurt. They've been shot and now Bess and George are bleeding out and nobody knows where they are or how to help. I can't breathe…can't walk…have to find that stupid book…have to get there…hurry…

"They have Bess and George," she breathed, feeling her breaths catch in her throat as she struggled to breathe.

Her dark thoughts swirled like a hurricane around in her head, refusing to part from her mind. She blinked owlishly once or twice, suddenly feeling lightheaded and dizzy.

Keep it together, she cautioned herself. Bess and George's lives depend on you. Find that book.

Feeling a surge of determination, given that it was almost closing time, she grabbed her purse from behind the counter and waved a noncommittal goodbye to Callie and Deidre as the two girls planned to sneak out the back door into the hallway that led into the movies.

At least, until a thought struck. "Hey, girls! Wait a second!" Nancy called out, careful to keep her voice low, ushering over Callie and Deidre with a quick wag of her finger.

Intrigued, the two friends exchanged a curious glance and sauntered over, though Deidre was looking annoyed at the interruption, her arm interlocked around Callie's as they had made to head towards the movies. "What is it now, Drew?" Deidre sighed, sounding exasperated.

"I need your help," she explained quickly, lowering her voice an octave, and leaning against the waitress stand as she pretended to count out her and Callie's tips for the night. "I think the owner is the one behind Jerry's arrest. I—I can't prove it yet, but I need to get into his office. Can you guys distract John for me while Frank and I go take a quick look around?" she begged, biting her bottom lip in a slight pout. "I—I know it's late, but it's important. Will you help me? I—I just need five minutes to look around. Will you do this for me, Callie?"

She looked towards Frank, chatting up John. He'd stopped by to pick her up, not wanting her to be alone with her stalker still after her.

Callie exchanged a knowing little smirk with Deirdre and tossed her dark hair back over her shoulders. "Well, if there's one thing we like more than gossiping, it's chatting up a friend. Yeah, we got this," she added, spotting John as he emerged from the kitchens with that dishwasher from earlier, Alex.

She broke into a cheerful grin and waved, dragging Deidre over by her arm. Deidre looked less than thrilled at the forced gesture, but it was soon replaced by a strange little smile that both Frank and Nancy noticed, though they chose not to comment.

"Hey, John!" Callie called out in kind of a flirtatious tone. Nancy would have rolled her eyes, but she felt herself exhale in relief as John's attention was immediately turned to Callie.

The two girls had kept their heads low and their eyes open during the rest of her and Callie's shifts, but hadn't heard much of anything, and there was still the suspicious behavior of John and that dishwasher's to confront, but right now, she had one hour to find the book.

She motioned to Frank, who had stopped in about fifteen minutes to pick her up for him to come closer. Noticing how chalk-white his girlfriend's face had become, Frank frowned.

"Barreau's guys have got Bess and George," whisper hissed Nancy through clenched teeth, blinking back tears and struggling to swallow past the lump in her throat that felt like it was closing up and constricting her breathing. "He—one of them said that—that they'd kill them i—if I didn't bring the accounting book," she sobbed, feeling her tears start to roll down her face. "The guys said no cops, or they'd shoot. Wh—what should we do, Frank?" she begged.

Frank's eyebrows shot so far up on his forehead they almost disappeared into his hairline.

"Well, first off, we're not gonna listen to that rule. If they've got guns, we're outnumbered already and at a disadvantage. I'll call Eli, tell him to go to the warehouse but go in quiet," he said, his voice developing a hardened edge to it. "Where do you think the book is?"

His face remained impassive, but Nancy knew her boyfriend well enough by now. There was no mistaking the fear in his dark brown eyes, or the warbling crack in his voice.

"In Barreau's office. It has to be, that's where I found all those boxes and the receipt to the shipping supply company. C'mon, let's go," she whispered, grabbing Frank's hand and dragging him towards the stairwell while Callie and Deirdre had launched into an animated discussion about some movie they were about to go see with John and the dishwasher behind the counter.

Chancing a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure no one was coming; she jiggled the door of Thomas Barreau's office and quickly shut the door behind them.

"Hurry, Frank," Nancy urged, trying her hardest to keep the desperation out of her voice. "Call Eli, tell his unit the situation, tell him and maybe one of his buddies on the force to go with him. I don't think we can take these guys all on our own, and we're gonna need help. Here," she urged, practically shoving the little piece of paper from her notebook into Frank's hands that she'd hastily scrawled the address of the warehouse where Bess, George, and Burt were being held captive. Frank nodded mutely, and quickly made the call.

It didn't take him long to launch into a brief explanation, and he hung up and pocketed his cell phone in his jeans pocket.

"Eli's heading over there now with two guys to check it out, and he's sending another unit to the restaurant, told us to stay put till help gets here. We're going to get them back, Nan," he promised.

Nancy mutely nodded, making a beeline straight for Thomas Barreau's desk, trying the topmost drawer to the left first.

"Wow," she murmured, finding it unlocked and yanking open the drawer with perhaps a little more force than was necessary, and flinched and froze as the drawer practically rattled against its hinges and made a loud clanging noise. "Look."

"I hope nobody heard that," Frank remarked, furrowing his brows as he began rummaging through one of the boxes on the floor, looking for anything that might help their case.

Nancy tossed her red hair over her shoulders and shoved her hand into the practically full drawer stuffed to the brim with files.

As she moved her hand to the back of the draw, her knuckles rapped against the bottom, and she felt her breath catch in her throat.

"Oh!" That definitely sounded like a false bottom! "Frank, come here," she whispered, waiting until Frank rested his chin on her shoulder behind her as she shoved the files towards the front of the door and could pry the false bottom up off its hinges.

"Oh my god…" She felt a surge of adrenaline course through her veins and a rush of excitement intermingled with relief as she and Frank spotted another accounting book that looked like the ledger that Barreau's men were after.

As long as they brought them this book, those creeps would let Bess and George and Burt go. As Nancy flipped open the cover, her heart raced.

This ledger was color coded in red and blue. A column in red was labeled OTR.

After a quick scan, Nancy came to the determination that these figures totaling close to five thousand dollars that she estimated to be the restaurant's real receipts.

The column next to it was coded in blue. Nancy let out an inaudible gasp when she saw the heading at the top: "Casino."

The number to there was totaled up in red, and when combined with the total of the blue column added up to a sum total that was closer to almost ten thousand dollars!

She whistles and Nancy ran her finger down the green column next to the blue and read off a list of initials out loud to Frank.

"These are listed as expenses," she breathed, her eyes quickly scanning an orange column with the initials ASC. "This must be for that Axelon Supply company that matches the receipt for the champagne bottles the first time I came up here. It just has to be!" Nancy exclaimed.

A black column in the ledger was marked with a few sets of initials in black marker. "A.S. C.M. M.Z. T.B.," she murmured, feeling Frank's chin shift on her shoulder that sent a momentary chill of pleasure down her spine, but she shoved that inappropriate thought to the back of her mind for now.

"This must be the list of people who profit from the casino…one of them has definitely got to be Thomas Barreau's initials, T.B. I don't know who the other two are, but I don't doubt they're on his payroll. For all we know, those are the guys that have Bess and George!" she squeaked, feeling a tremor of fear travel down her spine suddenly.

The sound of the doorknob rattling jolted Nancy and Frank out of the book.

"Quick, hide it," she squeaked, wrenching open the main compartment of her purse and shoving it inside.

They had to hide the book! Nancy and Frank's head whiplashed sharply upwards as John entered the door, and his face drained of color and blanched when he saw Nancy there.

"What are you two doing in here. I thought you'd left already, Nancy?" he demanded angrily, his hands on his hips as he threw the door open wider and strode into the room. "And is someone gonna tell me why the door was locked?" he demanded, quirking a brow Nancy's way, looking thoroughly ticked off.

Nancy wracked her brain trying to come up with an excuse, but in the end could think of nothing and so she decided to go on the offensive.

Her cover had been blown anyways, and the truth was about to come to the heart of the matter.

Now seemed like as good a time as any to find out why John and the other guy were being so secretive over the last couple days.

She sighed, folding her arms across her chest. "I know all about the money laundering and the casino and the gambling. I know that your assistant manager was framed, John. Why?"

John blinked, seemingly shocked. "What?" he demanded curtly. He seemed legitimately surprised by Nancy's statement, and she knew they had no choice but to explain themselves, so she dipped back into her purse and pulled out the accounting ledger she took from the desk. It didn't her long to explain through the figures and why she had taken the job.

The manager was shocked at Nancy's interpretation of the figures and by the time she had finished explaining, he sank into the chair behind the desk and buried his face in his hands.

"I swear to you both, I—I had no idea," he groaned. "All the evidence pointed towards Jerry behind all the fraud. Thomas was so sure that Jerry was behind it. He was the one who gave me the order to call the cops. I had no idea about any of this. This desk is Thomas's," he explained, glancing around. "This whole office is, though that's my desk," he added, pointing to the other desk on the other side of the room. "I don't touch this desk at all. His orders."

Nancy knitted her brows together in confusion, still not totally buying it. "I thought the owner wasn't really involved in the business side of running the management," she pondered out loud. "Then how do you explain the box of papers you and Alex were looking at tonight? How come you turned away when I caught you? Are you trying to tell me you weren't looking at gambling receipts?" she demanded, sighing, placing her hands on her hips.

John paused a minute before picking up his phone and dialing a single number, holding the receiver to his ear. "Hey, Alex. It's me. Can you come up to the office for a minute?"

Alex arrived almost instantly, looking kind of winded and out of breath, probably having run from the kitchens in his haste to appear at his boss's side.

He spotted Nancy and Frank and frowned. "Well, this looks serious," he mumbled, confused, turning to John. "What's up?"

"You want to explain to Nancy and her friend here about the box we were looking at tonight? Why we've been acting so weird the last few days?" John sighed, sounding tired.

"Uh, yeah. Sure. One sec," Alex murmured, casting his head down and looking for the box the two of them had been looking at earlier. "Here we go!" he exclaimed, stooping down, and rummaging through the box and pulling out what looked like brightly colored packages of confetti and streamers. "We were hoping to use the room to throw a surprise birthday party for Callie this weekend," he exclaimed hastily as Frank and Nancy inched forward for a better look. "Mr. Barreau's a real stickler about not doing that kind of thing, but it's the only place we know big enough for an event like that if we move the tables outta the way. We were just going to wait until the boss goes back to New York, and every time we'd see him, we'd—"

"Get jumpy," finished Frank. He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "That makes sense."

That was good enough for Nancy as she knelt and rummaged through the box of party supplies.

She let out a sigh and nodded her head as she stood to her feet, brushing her hands on the seat of her jeans.

Alex glanced towards John, still very much looking confused. "What's going on here, anyway? What's with all the questions?" he asked hotly.

Frank launched into the quick explanation of events and by the end of it, Alex's face matched John's in terms of how white both men are.

"You're tellin' me Thomas is a crook?" He paused, seeming like he was thinking it over, and then scowled. "You know, come to think of it, I guess that makes sense. Seems like he was always here whenever the accounting book had to go to the accountant."

"It sure looks that way, but I haven't found anything linking him officially to the crime, other than the ledger, but who are the other two? C.M. and M.Z?" Nancy questioned.

Alex frowned and swiped a pen out of the coffee cup on John's desk. "Maybe if we play with them a little, it'll all make sense," he said, bending over the open accounting book and ripping off a sticky note from one of the pads off John's desk. "Lemme take a crack at it."

Nancy and Frank watched as the dishwasher began jotting down possible combinations and sifting through other drawers in Thomas's second drawer for any clue as to the other people.

"I got it!" he yelled in a moment of triumph. "T.B. is obviously Thomas, and see…" He slid what looked to be a business card towards Nancy and Frank across the table.

"I know this," Frank breathed, digging into his back jeans pocket for his wallet and pulling out the business card that Jerry Goldin's lawyer had given him. "C.M. is Craig Masterson!"

"A—and the guy on the phone, I think I heard someone on speaker say his name was Max," Nancy interjected, feeling a surge of adrenaline course through her veins. She had him!

Nancy jumped as the phone on Thomas's desk rang.

"Sh—should we answer it?" questioned Alex. Nancy didn't wait as the phone started its second ring and picked up the phone and held it to her ear, suddenly feeling angered.

"Hello?" Nancy frowned as she heard the muffled sound of something crashing and what sounded like terrified shrieks from Bess and George. "Bess? George? Is that you? Talk to me!"

She let out a wince as a burst of static shot through the other end of the phone and a low male's breathy voice filled her eardrums. "Your friends are safe for now, Nancy Drew."

Frank's dark eyes widened. "That's Craig Masterson's voice! Jerry's lawyer, Nance!"

Nancy felt her mouth go totally dry as she swallowed past the lump in her throat. She had to try to convince Craig to let Bess and George and Burt go!

At least until the cops arrived…

She exhaled slowly through her nose, and forced her mind to remain calm, though what she really felt like doing was screaming.

"It's no use, Craig. You can tell your boss, Thomas, that I know he's the one behind the money laundering. I've seen the casino, and I have the evidence that connects you and Mr. Barreau to the crime. It's over. You've lost, Masterson."

Craig clucked his tongue in mock disappointment. "It certainly would be a real shame, Miss Drew, if you were to sacrifice your best friends' lives in exchange to show off your detective skills," he chastised, adopting the tone of someone talking to a twelve-year-old rather than a girl who turned nineteen in another few weeks. "It's your call. You're the one holding the gun to your friends' heads even right now as we speak," the lawyer growled into the phone. "All I have to do is tell Barreau's boys Charlie and Max over here to pop a cap in their heads, and they're dead before their bodies even hit the floor. Think it over carefully, Miss Drew, because if you don't wanna hand over that accounting ledger, there's not much I can do for them. You can't prove my involvement without the ledger, Miss Drew, and if you don't hand over that book tonight, you nosy little bitch, then your friends Bess and George's bodies will wind up in a ditch somewhere. Your choice."

Nancy decided a change in tactics was in order.

She just had to save Bess and George! She glanced towards Frank, whose head was bent over his cell phone, but when he noticed his girlfriend looking, he quickly showed her his phone, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

Eli, It's Frank. Send guys in. NOW. Our friends are in grave danger.

He received a reply back within seconds.

On it. Don't worry. Friends are gonna be safe. E.

Stall him, Frank mouthed desperately. Keep him talking, his eyes silently communicated.

Nancy blinked, and then nodded. "Craig, I—I'm sure it wasn't your idea to frame Jerry for all this. Y—you were just protecting Thomas. But there's still a chance. Let Bess and George and Nick go, and if you help us nail Mr. Barreau, then I'm sure the judge will go easy on you."

"The judge!" Craig roared, loud enough that Nancy let out a pained gasp and had to hold the phone away from her ear for a moment. "There won't be any judge, Miss Drew, and if you don't give us the ledger in the next thirty minutes, I'm gonna—"

But Craig was cut off as a loud popping sound rent the air on the other end of the phone. Muffled shouting could be heard in the background and the sound of a scuffle.

Craig swore under his breath and dropped the phone, and just before the phone cut to a dial tone, Nancy heard Officer Eli's shouting voice barking orders at his fellow officers to go after the guys.

"Oh, thank god," Nancy breathed. "Bess? George? Hello? Anybody there?" she squeaked.

Nothing but silence. Nancy felt her heart sink to the pit of her stomach and was just about to hang up the phone when a breathless squeak shattered the silence. "Nancy?"

"Bess!" exclaimed Nancy, feeling her shoulder sag in relief and she would have probably collapsed had Frank not shot out an arm to catch her. "Thank God! A—are you okay? How's George and Burt? A—and Nick?" she whispered, feeling her breath catch in her throat.

"Nick's been shot in the leg and they beat him up pretty badly," growled Bess, and Nancy barely stifled her smile as she recognized the beginnings of affection creeping into the young blonde's voice intermingled with anger at what had happened to their new friend. "But I think he's gonna be okay. George is here too. She's fine," she whispered, and the sound of the phone being passed off to George cut Bess off.

"Hey, Nan," George croaked hoarsely, sounding exhausted and on the verge of tears. "I—we're good. Me and Burt and Bess are gonna go with Eli to take Nick to the hospital."

Nancy nodded her head, putting the phone on speaker so Frank could hear the news. "Th—that's great news, guys," Nancy said after a long silence, blinking back briny tears. "I'm here at the office with John. It's Thomas. He's the one behind sending Jerry to jail. Him and Craig," she growled, curling her free hand into a fist at her side. "We're gonna nab him."

Bess and George mumbled their agreement and hung up. The minute Nancy hung up the phone, she felt the temperature in the room feel as though it had dropped ten degrees.

"Hello, Miss Nancy," came the deep, baritone voice of Thomas Barreau from the doorway.

Nancy visibly winced, feeling her shoulders stiffen and her posture straighten as she slowly turned around to face the tall, stocky, intimidating form of the café's owner face to face, still concealing most of his features behind his pair of black aviator sunglasses.

Her throat hollowed and constricted, and she licked her lips to moisten them.

"Who are you?" she asked, emanating a tense exhale through her nose.

Thomas Barreau let out a dark little chuckle, cutting off the gap of space between the doorway and where Nancy stood, and Nancy felt a muscle in her jaw twitch as he pulled out a small looking revolver from his jacket pocket and pressed the cold metal against her temples.

"Who indeed," he growled darkly. "The big mystery. Everyone's just dying to know. I've been watching you a long time, baby doll."

The man in the sleek black business suit and black aviator mirror sunglasses ignored the surprised yelps of John, Frank, and Alex, all of whom had raised their hands in surrender, not wanting to fight a guy with a gun.

"Y—you're the one who's been writing those notes. Stalking me. Sending your guys to nab Bess and George," Nancy squeaked, raising her hands, and taking several steps backward.

"Right on all counts. Unfortunately for you, you're not gonna get to tell anyone. Ever."

Still not bothering to remove his shades, he held out his hand not clutching onto the gun.

"Hand it over. Now. Or your little boyfriend gets a bullet right between the eyes," he snarled, turning the gun on Frank and pressing it against his temple. "Nice and quiet now. No fuss."

Nancy hissed and had eyes only for Frank. She felt tears welling her eyes. This…this was not how this was supposed to go. She didn't see any other choice. She swallowed hard and grabbed the ledger off of his desk. "You want it? Here. Just take it, but don't hurt him!"

He chuckled, regarding her behind those creepy mirror sunglasses of his that Nancy just wished he would take off already and quit hiding behind them, reveal who he really was.

"You always were too goddamned fucking soft for your own good, Drew. It's gonna be what kills you one of these days," he sighed, taking the book from her, and glancing down at his gold Rolodex watch.

Thomas Barreau turned towards John, a muscle in his jaw twitching. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry you're involved in this mess, Johnny Boy. You were a good manager. Now," he growled darkly, waving his gun wildly around the room, eliciting horrified reactions from Frank, Alex, and John.

Thomas Barreau took a deep, shaking breath through his nose and raked his free hand not holding the gun through his thick tuft of luscious dark brown hair, smoothing it back and smoothing his tie and the wrinkles of his black business suit.

"I'd like for everyone to take a seat, where we can discuss this in a calm, relaxed manner, and witness the burning of the incriminating evidence," Thomas Barreau growled. "I'd like to open the floor for questions. Let's start with you, you nosy little bitch, since asking questions is all you do, you annoying brat," the restaurant owner snarled, swiveling his head lazily towards Nancy, who had taken a seat in the chair next to Frank, and pressed her back up against it as far as she could as he strode towards Nancy in one swift movement, drew back his hand and backhanded her across the cheek.

His strong hand cracked across her face, snapping it back with the force of his blow and causing her head to reel sickeningly as it slammed into the headrest of her chair.

"HEY!" shouted Frank, his temper swelling and face reddening. He thought he'd heard a neck muscle of Nancy's pull. "You sick arrogant smug son of a—"

But he was cut off immediately the moment the gun was pressed against his temple.

"You don't have the floor, Hardy," Thomas Barreau growled. "One more sound, boy, and the next round I fire goes straight through your little girlfriend's heart…"

Nancy let out a low whimper of pain. When black dots quit covering her vision, she blinked and blearily lifted her head. She heard Frank let out an audible sigh of relief.

"Oh, thank god, baby, I thought the bastard broke your neck," Frank moaned.

"I—I'm good," she whispered weakly, lifting her gaze to look into Thomas's sunglasses. "I do have a question," she hissed through gritted teeth. "Since you're asking. But only one."

Though she could not see Barreau's expression behind those damned black mirror sunglasses of his, she could tell by the way his facial muscles tensed that he looked surprised by this, but quickly brushed it off and Barreau shrugged his shoulders, still keeping the gun trained on Nancy, the barrel of the gun lined up between her eyes.

Nancy exhaled a shuddering breath and blinked back briny tears that threatened to spill over.

All of this, it felt like it was all happening way too fast, but if she could ask of him only one question, then she'd better make it a good one.

And there was only one she wanted, no, needed the answer to.

"Who are you really, guy?" she whispered; her voice barely audible.

She expected Barreau to launch into a wild rage or even a monologue, but to her surprise, he did none of those things.

Nancy watched as the man in the sharp crisp business suit studied her in silence for a moment, and she let out a yelp as something hard and cold fell into her lap.

Thinking it at first to be the gun, she let out a whimper and clenched her eyes shut a moment. Nancy glanced down and realized he had thrown his aviator sunglasses at her.

Swallowing hard, she glanced up and barely stifled her scream of surprise as it felt like her stomach crept its way up into her throat and she could taste the bile that coated her throat and settled on her tongue as her stomach gave a painful little lurch and she thought she was likely to throw up.

She was looking into the cold, listless, angry eyes of Dwayne Powers.

A/N: *Whew* ! You guys have NO IDEA how HARD it was to keep the culprit a secret! I tried to kind of sprinkle hints throughout, like the guy being from New York, etc, but by and by, I'm pleased with the big reveal. I wanted to bring back another character from the games and I liked his portrayal in STD, but hated they made Frank's VA voice him in Ransom because I couldn't separate the two characters from one another, for the purpose of his big upcoming monologue in the next chapter, I imagine the same VA as whoever voiced him in Stay Tuned for Danger. More menacing and sinister. Sorry, Frank but your voice is just too sweet to be evil!

Enjoy! :)