Hello all. I hope you're all keeping safe and well. What is 2020? This year has been crazier than anything I could ever imagine up, for a story! I hope you enjoy the next chapter. I'm working through some health stuff, so I apologize if the next few chapters are late or off-schedule. I'm doing my best to get things as organized as possible. So stay with me!

Chapter Ten:

Joe wasn't sure what he thought about New York City. He'd traveled around the world many times for cases, and he'd visited all sorts of cities. But he was still used to his bayside hometown, where the smell of salt hung heavy in the air, and you could always feel the bracing breezes of Barmet Bay. When he was surrounded by tall buildings and concrete sidewalks he missed the feeling of sand between his toes.

He glanced at the address on the business card between his hands. Jim Malone, Head of Global Market Research at First Bank of America, blah blah blah. Joe wasn't sure what the man's role was, but he knew his client was important. According to the cramped font (which Frank could probably ID from an MS Word catalog) Malone worked from the glitzy skyscraper that towered over him. Great. He'd probably have to don a suit and tie for the meeting the next day.

Joe felt comforted by the fact that he'd done his due diligence and checked it out before the meeting. It was what animals did (or at least cable TV told him that) they found the highest peak and established the lay of the land: where predators were, where they could find prey. It was a strategy Joe used whenever he could.

And there was a hot dog van on the corner. It just kept getting better!

He was just wondering whether he should make his way toward it when his phone chimed. Biff wanted to catch up. That sounded good to Joe. He loved his brother and Nancy almost equally, above all others, but he needed to see someone sane. And Biff was always good to talk to. Besides, Biff might have some gossip.

He caught the subway as close as he could to Biff's, then he walked the rest of the way. Sharon was out with Sammy, visiting her mom and dad. So Joe and Biff had the place to themselves. They took beers and a bag of Ruffles out to the courtyard.

"Sorry for the short notice. It's rare that I get time to myself," Biff commented, sighing with contentment.

"I had time to kill. Frank and Nancy are at work."

"Nancy wasn't supposed to go back, though."

"I know. But when has she ever done what she's supposed to do?"

Biff laughed and took a long swig. "Point. She's a redhead, so..."

"Please let that not be a sex joke. Nan and Frank have been making eyes at each other. When they're not fighting, that is."

"It was always going to happen. Frank just let go of Callie. If he cares about Nancy Drew he'll dig his heels right in. Anyway, speaking of romance, how are you and Bess going? We didn't have much time to talk about that, the other day."

Joe hadn't replied to Bess's text. Damn. He made a mental reminder to do that before she told him off. "I'm crazy about her. She's no Iola. But that's good. I don't want that." Joe shook his head frantically. "She's bubbly, fun, and she knows what she wants. I just... I don't know what. She wants to tell me, but I'm avoiding it. I have a feeling she wants adult stuff. And I'm not... I'm not "dad or husband material." Trust me."

"Well, even if that's the case, you need to tell her that."

"I know. I know. Anyway, can we talk about something less touchy-feely? How about my case? You love that shit."

Biff's eyes lit up. "Sure. Lay it on me."

"It's not a mystery, not really. But I have to do some bodyguard stuff and I could use your brains." Joe explained his new case and Biff listened intently. "I'm not sure why Malone suspects one of the security staff but he wants an outsider. And he'd heard of dad through some of his buddies in the Justice Department. When he heard dad wasn't available I had to sell myself, really up the ante, you know. So, there's a lot laying on this one."

"What sort of documents are missing?" Biff asked.

"Research into accounts, I think. Do you reckon it's corporate espionage?"

"Um, yeah. Obviously. I guess there are worse cases."

"But there are better ones too."

Biff didn't reply but he clinked his can against Joe's. Then, the two men sat in amiable silence, watching Sammy's swingset sway in the breeze.

Joe glanced down at the can in his hands. He felt Biff nudge him gently.

"And for the record, I reckon you'll be a great dad, whenever you're ready. You come from a good bunch."

Nancy dumped two shopping bags on the kitchen bench. But instead of commencing putting away her new purchases, she leaned against the counter, looking at her phone. She had a new text from Jess, saying that the police still didn't have any new information. Mia had just become one of more than 1500 people who went missing in NYC every year. The thought clenched Nancy's gut and made her feel physical pain.

But she also felt helpless. What was she supposed to do? Leah Martin was dead, her killer sitting in a cell. And without a connection between the two cases, Nancy had no idea where to turn. Normally, she'd call Frank and bounce ideas off him. But lately, she'd seen a familiar look in his eyes. It was the same look she'd seen on Ned's face when she'd talk about a case. Frank was worried about her. He thought she was off the reservation.

But Frank wasn't Ned. So, maybe Nancy should listen to him.

She googled therapists in the area and made an appointment. Just because. She didn't feel that she needed professional help, but when she thought of all the people in her life she realized she didn't know who to turn to. At least a professional would hear her out. After all, she did feel like she was standing at the edge of a void. Her father was busy, as were her friends. And they were in River Heights, hundreds of miles away. She had Frank and Finn. But somehow, she'd never felt more alone.

Nancy poured a glass of water and paced a few steps. Focus. Do tasks to distract yourself, she told herself. So, she commenced putting things away. It made her feel calmer, more focused, putting each thing in its place. It brought back some of those feelings she'd felt unpacking, moving into the brownstone. It reminded her that this was her place. The place she shared with the love of her life. Each piece of furniture, each innocuous ingredient was something chosen by both of them as they chose to fuse their lives together. The reality was that she wasn't alone. No matter how she felt.

Nancy took a couple of deep breaths, then slipped on some gardening gloves and set out to do some weeding. The courtyard was even smaller than Biff and Sharon's, and it was an area that she and Frank hadn't gotten to, yet. The garden beds were choked with weeds and she imagined the flowers that could bring light and color to the gray paved space. Standing, hands on her hips, she surveyed the courtyard, trying to visualize the changes she could make with Frank on the weekend.

Suddenly, it occurred to her that she hadn't investigated the night time sounds she'd heard before Mia went missing.

She hurried to the back of the courtyard, where a gate opened onto a tight little alley behind the neighboring yards. She opened the gate, pushing against the stiffness of time and neglect, then walked into the alley. Aside from some errant trash, the tight little backway was empty. But, Nancy's practiced eye could something flapping in the wind: a tiny piece of fabric was caught on Mia and Jess's back gate.

It was black. Made of a nylon polyester blend, she'd guess. But it could be a clue.

Nancy returned to her home to retrieve her evidence kit. Then, she placed the fabric in an evidence bag. She didn't know what the fabric was. She didn't even know if it bore any significance, whatsoever. But Nancy wasn't going to chance it. A girl's life hung in the balance.