I have a confession to make: I completely forgot to post the chapter this week. I'm aiming for two a week, so somebody remind me, please! I won't bite! Thank you for all your lovely reviews and comments. I love reading about what you think about my story, but also about your favorite characters and memories of the ND/HB books.

Prompt for this chapter: who is your favorite non-ND/FH couple? (if it's not Nancy and Frank it's safe here!)

Frank supposed he expected a visit from the police, but not from Chief Johnson herself. She was escorted to the Hardy's room by a harried-looking front desk agent, first thing the next day. Frank was surprised that she was alone, and he commented on the fact, as he offered her a cup of instant coffee (which she unsurprisingly declined).

"Yes, well, this is a sensitive situation. I know you're worried about your father, but there are better ways to find him." She peered at him over the top of her glasses.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about, ma'am."

"Really? So, if I told you one of my officers said they were intimidated by a man who broke into her home last night, would you tell me you don't know anything about that?"

"That's right. My brother and I don't go about our investigations that way."

"Not usually, no. But how many times has your father been abducted?"

Joe emerged from the bathroom with a towel slung over his shoulder. "Heaps."

"He's right. Our dad gets abducted a lot."

"And shot."

"That too."

Chief Johnson's eyes flashed with irritation, but she kept her composure well. "Fine. I'll have you two know that this is not a joke. My department is taking this very seriously. And if the pair of you were involved, there will be no concessions. No matter who your father is."

After the commanding woman left, Joe turned to Frank, face grim. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but you went too far for Nancy, man. If she finds out you broke into a cops house-"

"I didn't break-in. The door was open."

"How about you tell that to an attorney, bro?"

"Fine. I messed up. But I didn't think she'd tell her boss. After all, she all but confessed to being involved in dad's abduction and rigging Nancy's case. Why wasn't she afraid that would come out if they arrested me?"

Joe furrowed his brows. "You're right. And where was Johnson's backup?"

"I think she was trying to keep this "interview" on the DL."

Joe nodded, then abruptly shook his head. "If you're saying the Chief of police is involved in this mess than you've officially lost the plot, Frank. What motive could she possibly have for being involved in this mess? What even is this mess? I have more questions than answers."

"Well, you follow your own hunches. But I'm going to look into this Johnson woman."

Nancy lay on the floor of her cell, staring up at the ceiling. There was an unpleasant smudge, the color of a muddy puddle. There must be a leak there. She shuddered, hoping it didn't rain. Of course, there were building codes and things. She wouldn't get soaked, but she also knew she wasn't at the top of anyone's list, as someone imprisoned for murder.

Nancy did a few sit-ups, then she rolled over and did push-ups until her arms could no longer hold her up. She wasn't going to vegetate in this cell. It wasn't in the cards for her. She'd never given up or succumbed to self-pity. And it wasn't going to happen right now.

Lying there, feeling her arms tremble, Nancy closed her eyes. She tried to imagine it again, for the hundredth time, the shooting. She'd worked it out, who was sitting where. And she'd put names to the faces of the workers behind the curtain. But there were still some attendees and presenters she couldn't identify.

What had happened before she'd gone onto the stage? Was there a single thing that could have alerted her to what was going to happen? She couldn't think of one thing. Chircop had had his notes. She could remember them: the dot points for his speech. But, now that she thought, there was something else, a single page amongst his notes. The handwriting didn't belong to her boss. It was foreign, scratchy.

It was no good. She couldn't place it. Who had been behind him, deeper behind the stage? There had been a stagehand, someone in a uniform. Then, there had been a few uniformed officers who had moved to the auditorium audience. There had also been two strangers, suited, who must have been members of the community. One of them had looked like ex-military, all straight lines, and somber ceremony. Then, there had been another, more scruffy man talking to the Chief of police.

He'd been broad, stocky, like he'd once been fit and muscled, but become less active in his retirement years. He'd had short-cropped hair and piercing eyes. Nancy would have to remember the description, so she could ask her father. She remembered the eyes finding hers, as she stepped onto the stage. And for some reason, those eyes gave her pause.

"Nancy," her attorney was hurrying down the hall, a uniformed officer at his arm.

"What is it?" Nancy stood, wiping her hands on her pants. She kept her tone even, her voice calm. There was no use getting excited either way. It could be good news. It could be bad. But it could also be nothing.

"Your gun has been returned to the FBI. The caliber is right. But the bullet recovered from Luke Chircop's body doesn't match. The lands and grooves are different."

Nancy recalled from ballistics training that the lands are the raised portions between the grooves in the barrel. Each firearm had different characteristics, which changed the shape of each bullet. It was reassuring, but unsurprising that there was no match.

"That's good. I knew it wouldn't match. But it's good to have proof."

"Yes. I'm working to get your charges dropped, Nancy. We're not quite there yet. The CPD is insisting that the email chain is enough evidence." Fowler shot a look at his chaperone, who pretended not to hear them. "Unfortunately they're right, for now, anyway."

"Frank had no luck?"

"Not last time we spoke. I called him last night, but he didn't pick up. And now Chief Johnson isn't speaking to me. Meetings, apparently. But I'll keep you in the loop."

Nancy knew she had to try and keep her hopes at bay, but as she watched Fowler pick his way back the hall, she felt her heart race. There was a chance she'd be free soon. It felt exhilarating, made her feel something short of redeemed. But mostly, it made her feel more motivated to get whoever had done this to Luke Chircop. Once she was on the other side of those bars there was nothing that could stop her.