A/N: Welcome! Thank you for reading. This completed story is 18 chapters long, with new chapters posting on Sundays and Thursdays.

This story is set in the same universe as my previous story Prequel, but it is not necessary to have read that story to understand this one. Nancy lived in Bayport for four months in ninth grade and then moved back to River Heights. Please forgive the continuity error of Prequel set in 2018 with 14-year-olds and The Next Chapter set in 2021 with 20-year-olds.

Still no Chet. Just a personal preference.

In this story I will take major liberties with both the Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys series' publication histories, but the truth is that both series were originally conceived by Ed Stratemeyer and are currently owned by Simon & Schuster. I am making no money from this fic.

Many thanks to xcherryxlipsx, for proofreading several chapters; to Cherylann Rivers, for absolutely everything, all the time; to my boyfriend Al, for never-ending patience and cultural/linguistic consultation.

I'm not expecting a big audience because this fic is rated M, due to dark and controversial subject material. Therefore, reviews are even more greatly appreciated.

ndhbnd

"If you are doubly burdened, first by acute shyness, and secondly by only seeing the right thing to do or say twenty-four hours later, what can you do? Only write about quick-witted men and resourceful girls…" —Agatha Christie

Saturday, July 10, 2021

Nancy struggled to balance her three heavy bags, cursing herself for wearing heels, and headed out of the airport doors into bright sunlight. It had been a quick flight from Chicago, Illinois to New Haven, Connecticut. She'd pushed back her start date on a new mystery so she could spend this particular morning supporting two very good friends and colleagues through a difficult day.

She arrived at the curb, scanned her surroundings, and saw what she'd been looking for: a white, used-but-loved truck with the Prito Construction company logo on it. It hadn't taken any special sleuthing abilities to figure out who Frank and Joe had been referencing when they'd said "a very special friend" would pick her up. A young man emerged from the driver's side.

"Blast from the past," Nancy commented, and then frowned when she saw his very short, black curls. "Michael? Tony! It is you! What happened to your beautiful hair?"

Tony Prito shouldered Nancy's bags like they weighed nothing and dropped them in the truck bed. He'd always been much stronger than he looked. Then he quickly assessed her with a small, knowing smile. "Nancy Drew. Now a strawberry-blonde."

"Red hair is too conspicuous for my line of work. And you've changed a bit yourself," Nancy responded. His olive skin was as flawless as it had always been, invulnerable to sunburn or acne, yet his features were more defined now that he had finished growing. He was not tall for a man, about 5'8—an inch taller than her—and, like his brother Michael, he was now toned, not buff.

Their reunion was abruptly interrupted by an irate traffic controller ushering them into their vehicle. Tony concentrated on traffic, merging when there was an opportunity. After several minutes of congestion, they were soon riding on rural meadow roads, taking the scenic road into Bayport. Nancy liked Tony's driving: smooth cruising, with one hand on the steering wheel.

Nancy had been afraid that it would feel awkward to see him again, but instead she felt guilty. She turned to him. "Tony…" she trailed off.

He grinned at her. "Is that the signal that you're ready to give me your lame excuses? I can rate them on a one to ten scale, if you'd like."

"No, thanks. I only have two excuses, and I know that neither one of them is sufficient."

"Only one rule, before you tell me. I don't want to hear that we were fourteen and just kids," Tony warned her. "I was fourteen too, and I would have hitchhiked out to River Heights to see you if I'd thought it would be well received."

"No, I wasn't going to say that we were just kids. I stopped returning your calls and emails because what I needed from you…what I wanted from you could have only been gotten from in-person contact. The calls and emails just made our separation hurt worse because it reminded me of what I was missing." Nancy took a deep breath. "And my family was in no condition to have a visitor at that time. When Griselda almost died in childbirth…it was horrifying to see my dad start to unravel, and it was a tough time for me, too, since I had finally adjusted to having a new stepmother. She's never fully recovered, you know. She tires easily and doesn't leave the house much. And then, as Frank and Joe must have told you, Hannah died two months after my sister was born. The year after I moved back to River Heights was the worst year of my life."

"I can't even imagine," Tony said quietly. "I'm sorry you had to go through all that, Nancy."

Nancy had no desire to talk about it any further, so the two of them spoke of neutral subjects for the rest of the short ride. Tony slowed down as they entered the outskirts of Bayport.

Nancy found some pictures of her five-year-old sister on her phone and showed them to Tony when they were at a red light. "My dad has apologized for thinking that I was independent growing up. Faith has had a stubborn streak since before she could talk," Nancy said, with a strong note of tenderness in her voice.

"I can tell by that expression on her face," Tony agreed.

"Oh my god," Nancy said, sitting up straight, "is that the Tower Mansion? Pull over."

Tony obliged. They were along the bay now, only a couple of miles outside of Bayport's downtown, and the wind had picked up as as result. Nancy gazed at the field behind the almost-abandoned residence. If there were teenagers currently christening the area immediately behind the mansion, they couldn't be seen from the road.

"Damn, you woke up my reproductive system that fall," Nancy said as the memories flooded back to her. They'd had their first full afternoon makeout session there.

"Mine was already awoken, believe me," Tony said, "but I'm glad I had that effect."

He drove past the fire hall, where they'd had their first kiss. Tony had been in his karate uniform, sweaty from class. "And your brother threw that bucket of water on us," Nancy giggled. She flicked Tony's shoulder. "I have a feeling that you're not driving me to the church by the shortest possible route. Oh! Frank told me that you're one of the karate instructors now. Very, very cool, Tony. You should be proud."

Tony looked pleased by her compliment. "The funeral's not for another hour and a half. And the family is together right now, meeting privately with the minister. I guess you'll have to tell me where we're going for brunch."

Nancy suggested one of the few restaurants in Bayport whose name she remembered, a diner with ridiculously huge portion sizes and rich coffee. Ten minutes later, they were speaking quickly, jumping from topic to topic, trying to cram six years' worth of subject material into one hour. Frank and Joe had kept them each up to date on general Bayport and River Heights goings on, respectively. Most of the old gang was twenty or twenty-one and in college.

"Vanessa and Phil couldn't make it today," Tony said. "Van stayed at art school in Europe through the summer, and she's not coming back til Christmas. Phil almost never comes home. He's studying science down south and spends most vacations as an instructor at Space Camp. Callie's going back to horticulture school in upstate New York at the end of the summer. Sorry, do you already know all this?"

"Some of it. Everybody's all over the world, I need all the reminders I can get." Their food arrived and Nancy already needed a refill on her coffee. "Frank, Joe, and I have a lot of catching up to do at some point, since we've been focusing on our careers instead of starting college with you guys. Do you and Biff commute together to UConn?"

"No. Different campuses," Tony explained between bites. "I take two or three classes a semester because I'm working full time too. My uncle is running Prito Construction now, and he's going to make me a site manager once I graduate. Maybe I'll get a Master's, maybe I won't. You and the Hardys need the adrenaline rush, Nancy—and, don't get me wrong, the adventures I've helped them with have been fun—but my priority has always been family. I have no intention of moving away from Bayport or getting a job anywhere else."

"So if your priority is family—" Nancy cut herself off.

"Am I working on starting one of my own? Are you asking me if I'm seeing anyone?" Tony raised his eyebrows. "No, not right now. Work and school don't leave a lot of time left over. And I heard you broke it off with what's-his-name, too."

Nancy suddenly thought of something. "I really hope Frank and Joe told all of you, when Iola—I was totally incommunicado on a case, I didn't even hear of it until weeks later."

"Yeah, they told us. There's no doubt in my mind that you would have been here if you could have been."

They discussed Iola for a couple of minutes, Nancy offering her condolences, Tony responding that Nancy had been friends with her, too, however briefly.

"Do you think that's why Joe still hasn't asked Vanessa to be his girlfriend, even after all these years?" Nancy wrinkled her nose.

"I'm sure it is, but you know we're not allowed to ask Joe about it, or he'll get pissed off. But if you ask me, Phil was even more affected by her death than Joe was. Not that Phil was still hung up on Iola, but that whole experience was like a loss of innocence for Phil—he couldn't cope with the fact that we live in a world where an innocent young girl could die a horrible death for absolutely no reason." Tony changed the subject. "Now I want to hear all about these bestselling novels you and Laura have been writing."

"Not bestselling," Nancy clarified.

"Yet," he replied.

Laura Hardy and Nancy had published three books for girls based on Nancy's mysteries, known as Nancy Drew Series "yellow spines." Tony spoke enthusiastically about them and asked her questions about characters and writing decisions, and Nancy could tell that he had read them more than once and took pride in them.

"And of course you're aware that Laura and I have been working on our first 'blue spine' book for boys—well, we submitted the final manuscript early last week." Nancy grinned at Tony's whoop of celebration.

"So now you'll have two series that you're working on?" Tony asked excitedly.

"Even if our publishers approve The Tower Treasure for publication, it might just be a one-and-done. The boys' reading market is much tougher to break into, since girls read much more than boys," Nancy explained. "Although I suspect a lot of girls would read the Hardy Boys books, too. And you would think that Joe would be happy about it, but he has some disagreements with the writing decisions. And he can't get over that they will be called 'boys' because of the targeted reader age range. He wants it to be called Hardy Men or Hardy Guys or Hardy Bros or Hardy Thugs, anything else."

"Yeah, Joe's a pain in the ass," Tony said affectionately, as if the description were a compliment instead of an insult. "But he still signed the authorization for you guys to use his real name, just like the rest of us did. People must come up to you all the time in disbelief that there's a real Nancy Drew."

Nancy shrugged. "I can count on two hands the number of times it's happened, almost always at writing conventions. It turns out that Nancy Drew is a fairly common name, plus Laura and I write under a pseudonym."

"Well, screw Joe," Tony decided. "The rest of us are rooting for The Tower Treasure. Want me to stop by your publishers' homes, give them an offer they can't refuse? 'Either your brain or your signature is going to be on that contract.'"

Nancy frowned in confusion, and Tony spent the ride to the church lecturing her for not watching The Godfather yet.

They entered Bayport United Methodist in the middle of the viewing hour. Frank looked exhausted and sad. Joe's eyes were red-rimmed like he'd been crying. Fenton was trying to hold it together but Nancy could tell that he just wanted the day to be over. And so Laura was making attempts to support all of them, even though she was going through her own grief as well.

Joe pulled Nancy in for a tight hug, thanking her for coming. Callie was in the receiving line next to Frank, as the couple had gotten back together over the summer. Nancy was glad that Callie seemed happy to see her again.

Frank hesitated and put his hand on Nancy's shoulder; Callie rolled her eyes, nudged Frank, and then he gave Nancy a proper hug and greeting.

They had to keep the line behind them moving. Nancy saw the younger Hardys every several months or so for cases, plus she Zoomed/emailed Laura frequently for editing, so a verbose reunion wasn't necessary. It was, however, a significant reunion for Nancy and Biff, whom she hadn't seen or kept in touch with after her family had moved back to River Heights. Margaret Hooper, Biff's mom, spent a few minutes chatting with her. Nancy felt a pang of disappointment when Biff's little sister Mary did not recognize her or remember their babysitting afternoons; the once exuberant, carefree five-year-old was now a sullen, introverted preteen. There was no open casket, so Nancy and Tony mingled and then found some seats.

"You little monkey," Tony whispered to Nancy as they sat in a pew. "You and Frank hooked up."

Nancy was impressed. "You picked up on that from the receiving line?"

"The little pause, him not hugging you right away—yes, I picked that up."

"We did not hook up," Nancy corrected. "We shared some kisses on two cases, under stressful and extenuating circumstances. Frank and Callie took a long break when she started college, and me and Ned—anyway, Frank and I were each single both times, and now that Callie is home for the summer and they got back together, it will never happen again. I do not cheat and I don't help anyone else to cheat."

After she'd finished speaking, she felt silly for giving Tony so many details that were none of his business; but, really, her focus had been to work out her own feelings more than to explain things to him.

Tony smirked at her but didn't comment further. He gestured to someone coming out of the receiving line. Nancy's eyes lit up when she saw that it was Michael, his wife Polly (who was also Iola's cousin), and their two-year-old daughter Marie. Nancy greeted them enthusiastically, with questions and compliments to the little girl.

Michael and Tony now looked more alike than ever, since they both had short hair, although Michael was taller. Nancy did the math and figured that Michael was twenty-six, Polly twenty-four. Michael had tanned skin and deeper smile lines. His eyes twinkled at her. "I know you're all grown up now, Nancy, but I'll forever think of you as the kid detective who was investigating me. That took balls, searching my truck and bedroom for clues."

"But you were exonerated," Nancy said, watching Marie crawl under the pew and establish position on Tony's lap. "Sort of."

"I wouldn't make the same mistake again," Michael answered. The minister headed to the pulpit and the service began.

Nancy had never laughed so much at a funeral in her life. She'd heard many stories about Frank and Joe's Aunt Gertrude, but they were of such an outlandish nature that Nancy had assumed that they were greatly exaggerated, or an inside joke among the family. But now she heard about the time Aunt Gertrude had gotten so mad at permit regulations that she'd erected an above ground pool in her garage to skirt the rules; the time Chief Collig had pulled her over for speeding and she'd told him that the car needed to be wind dried after going through the car wash; her excuse for drinking too much, that she drank so there would be less liquor in the world for everyone else to drink; and the thrice-weekly forwarded chain emails of horror stories, scams, and paranoid warnings, which Frank usually Replied All to with a Snopes link debunking it. Marie got cranky and Michael and Polly took her home. At one point during the ceremony, Frank ran out, gasping for breath and fumbling in his pocket; Callie remained in her seat and focused resolutely on the speaker, sending the message to everyone that Frank wanted to be alone and would return when he was ready.

Two and a half hours later, after the church hall reception had thinned considerably, those who remained combined tables and told more stories to celebrate Aunt Gertrude's life. She'd only been in her early sixties and had died suddenly from an aneurysm; everyone at the table agreed that she would have wanted to die quickly and painlessly, not with a lingering sickness or getting thrown out of nursing homes for bad behavior. Joe teared up again and Frank and Tony put a supportive hand on each shoulder. Fenton stared into space. Moments of silence became more frequent.

"So tell us about your new mystery, Nancy," Laura said eventually.

"It's a complicated smuggling case that might take months," Nancy answered. She decided to try to give enough details to prevent a series of follow-up questions, yet not monopolize the conversation. "The City of Boston strongly suspects three certain men in an apartment complex. So they leased me a furnished apartment in the same complex, to try to uncover proof that's legally admissible in court. It'll take a lot of careful relationship building."

"Isn't your bus leaving soon, Nancy?" Tony interjected. "I've got to get you to the station. Unless I got the time wrong?"

Nancy met Tony's gaze for a long moment. She had her choice between a 5:00 bus and a 7:00 bus. She'd never mentioned any departure times to Tony.