Disclaimer: Characters contained within belong to the Stratemeyer Syndication and Simon & Schuster. No copyright infringment is intended.
Author's Notes: Thank you for the initial feedback;) It was greatly appreciated. I hope you keep reading and enjoying.
****
Bay of Peril
by Kristen Elizabeth
****
Fresh crab cakes right next to the ocean. A shining sun with a biting breeze. Frank Hardy smiled as he counted out the money to pay for his and Joe's lunch. He could see why so many people loved San Francisco.
"And you wanted to go to McDonald's," he told his younger brother.
Somehow Joe Hardy was managing the bag of food and two cans of soda while his attention was thoroughly on the group of girls passing by the vendor's stand. "Don't pull the foreign food in a foreign land thing on me. We're still in America."
Frank grabbed the sodas before Joe dropped them. "It almost doesn't seem like it." He looked out over the glistening waters of San Francisco Bay. On one side lay the Pacific Ocean and the island prison Alcatraz. He glanced in the opposite direction. On his other side was one of the most eclectic cities in the county and…
"Nancy?"
Joe whipped his head around. "You're kidding."
But Frank rarely kidded. And indeed, it was Nancy Drew his older brother had spotted standing by a clump of outdoor tables, looking in their general direction. Joe took a moment to admire the view. Their long-time friend and co-sleuth looked beautiful and he didn't feel guilty acknowledging that. Still, he kept the thought to himself. Especially when he snuck a look at his brother's face.
Frank's smile appeared to be nothing more than friendly, but Joe had long since learned to read between his brother's lines. The burdens Frank had been carrying for too long seemed to lift all of a sudden. He was happy to see her. Very happy.
"Do you think she's undercover?" Joe asked.
"I don't know. She might think we are." Frank handed the sodas back to him. "Let's exercise the old 'you look just like a friend of mine' routine."
"Good call." The brothers left the vendor and weaved their way through the tourists and seafood stands until they came to Nancy's table. It was then that they noticed her best friend, George. They appeared to be alone as there were only two drinks on the table between them.
Frank cleared his throat. "Do you know that you look exactly like this girl I used to know?" he told Nancy.
She laughed merrily, knowing that they would never approach her if they were undercover themselves. "Oh, do I?" Lowering her voice, she continued, "It's all right. My name is Nancy Freeman here, but nothing more deep than that."
"Then it's okay to hug?" Joe grinned wickedly.
As soon as she nodded, she found herself in the younger Hardy brother's arms being squeezed tightly. "We missed you," he declared, releasing her.
Nancy's eyes were on Frank. "It has been a long time, hasn't it?"
"A year and a half." He hesitated before hugging her. "It's good to see you." She smelled like fresh air and freesia and he didn't want to let go. But knowing their unspoken boundaries, Frank pulled back.
"It's good to see you, too," Nancy replied, softly.
George took her turn, hugging each brother briefly. "What are you two doing in San Francisco?"
Joe munched on a crab cake as he answered her question. "We're here for the World Sailing Competition." He swallowed. "We have a friend who might win it."
"Is that this weekend?!" George shot Nancy a glance that literally screamed her excitement. "Nan, did you know?"
Nancy shook her head. "But then I've been spending a lot of time in the kitchen."
"The kitchen?" Frank was puzzled; Nancy was many things, but the happy homemaker was not one of them.
"I'm working as an apprentice chef at a restaurant called Curacao." After discreetly looking around to see if anyone around them was paying too much attention to their conversation, Nancy quickly summed up her current case. Frank couldn't mistake the disappointment in her voice when she finished up, "I have no clues and nothing's happened since I arrived. I suppose you could say I'm stuck."
He was sympathetic to her frustration having felt it before on his own cases. "Well, Joe and I would be happy to help out. Not that I think you need it, or anything."
"Actually, I might just take you up on that." Nancy looked up at him with her bright blue eyes. "I can always use help."
Because the two of them seemed content to keep staring at each other all afternoon, Joe elbowed his brother. "We've gotta get going if we're going to make it in time." He explained to George, "The preliminary competition is today starting in Sausalito. Patrick…that's our friend…he's favored to get a top spot going into the finals. We're just moral support, but he'd be lost without us." George snickered. "Hey, do you gals want to come along?"
It was only when Nancy shook her head that Frank realized how much he'd wanted her to say yes. "I can't. Victoria is expecting me back at the restaurant. But George isn't busy."
"Free and clear," her friend added eagerly.
"How about we meet for dinner later?" Nancy suggested. "I don't have to work tonight, so I could show you everything I have on the case so far. And we could catch up."
"At Curacao?" George suggested
Nancy shook her head, her ponytail swaying like red silk. "It's my night off. Let's eat in JapanTown. Call me when the race is over and we'll figure out a time and place."
"We don't have your number," Frank reminded her.
"George does." Nancy paused. "But just in case...." With a pen from her purse, she reached for Frank's hand and turned it over. She wrote her cell phone number on the heel of his palm. "Don't lose that hand."
She winked and Frank swallowed heavily. "Yeah, no. I…um…won't." He looked at Joe who was finishing off his second crab cake and giving him a very curious look. "Let's go then."
"Bye, Nan!" George called out happily. "Don't work too hard!"
****
It was a short ride to Sausalito in the brothers' rental car. Frank drove, with Joe in the passenger's seat and George in the back, taking in the scenery. Unabashedly, Joe flipped on the radio to a rock station he'd located earlier, hoping the heavy drum solos would keep George from hearing what he desperately wanted to ask his brother.
"Was it just me, or was there something going on back there?"
Frank kept his eyes on the road. "What are you babbling about?"
"It's not nice to lie to your brother. Especially when he can read you like a book." Joe crossed his arms triumphantly. "You and Nancy. It's always there, Frank, but this time…" He trailed off, not needing to spell it out. "And now that Callie's out of the picture, maybe…"
"Callie might be," Frank cut him off. "But Ned isn't." He shook his head. "Besides, it's only been three months since Callie and I broke up."
"Officially, maybe. But it's been a lot longer than that since you two stopped being a couple."
It still stung a little to hear the words, but Frank brushed the pain aside. He had loved Callie Shaw quite a lot with the eyes of a teenager. As an adult, that love had cooled into friendship. It was nowhere near as dramatic a tale as Joe liked to tell. "Nancy and I are friends, good friends. And maybe we've had a moment or two of…"
"Passionate smooching?"
Frank gave him a glare. "Indiscretion. But I have too much respect for Ned Nickerson to repeat past mistakes. Got it?"
Joe held up his hands innocently. "Whatever you say. Although you know, Nancy was there for those indiscretions, as you so romantically put it."
"So?"
"I'm just saying."
George poked her head between the two front seats. "Can you nudge it down just a bit, Joe? I can't hear myself think back here."
He returned the volume to a reasonable level. "My bad."
They reached the competition site twenty minutes later and piled out of the car. Dozens of boats dotted the dark blue water, with sails in every color of the rainbow. The gusts coming off the ocean were a lot stronger than on the Wharf; Frank zipped his windbreaker up to his chin and saw George do the same.
"We knew Patrick in high school," Joe told her as they made their way down to the row of piers from which the sailors were launching. "He's been sailing practically since he was born which is why he's so good at it. The only thing's that ever stopped him was money; it's not a cheap hobby. But he's being sponsored now."
George nodded. She knew about sponsorships, having turned down one in tennis to go to college. "If I were Bess, I'd ask you to fix me up."
"And I'd do it, too," he grinned. "But Patrick's a taken man."
Frank led them to the right pier, squinting in the glare coming from the water. "Do you see him?" A moment later, he answered his own question when he spotted a man coming towards them. "Patrick! Over here!"
Patrick Bergman was a notoriously personable guy who could never be found in anything more formal than khaki board shorts and boat shoes. But as he walked towards the trio, his steps were heavy. His handsome face, tanned and weathered from hours on the water, was completely distraught. Frank frowned. Something was wrong.
"Frank…Joe." Their friend rubbed his hand across his mouth, apparently in a mild state of shock. "My boat…"
The brothers exchanged a look before "Your boat? What's wrong with it?"
"Come and…come and see."
Sitting at a private pier a good ways away from its competitors, Patrick's sailboat, named "Sarah's Wind" after his girlfriend, was in a sad state. The crisp white material of the main sail had been slit down the center. Red paint had been splashed all over the hull and keel and the rudder was broken in half.
"The harbor master says it must have happened last night." Taking a breath, Patrick went on. "I just got here…and it was like this."
"Damn," Joe muttered under his breath as he surveyed the damage. He was no expert, but barring a miracle, it didn't seem likely that Patrick would be sailing that day.
****
To Be Continued
Author's Notes: Thank you for the initial feedback;) It was greatly appreciated. I hope you keep reading and enjoying.
****
Bay of Peril
by Kristen Elizabeth
****
Fresh crab cakes right next to the ocean. A shining sun with a biting breeze. Frank Hardy smiled as he counted out the money to pay for his and Joe's lunch. He could see why so many people loved San Francisco.
"And you wanted to go to McDonald's," he told his younger brother.
Somehow Joe Hardy was managing the bag of food and two cans of soda while his attention was thoroughly on the group of girls passing by the vendor's stand. "Don't pull the foreign food in a foreign land thing on me. We're still in America."
Frank grabbed the sodas before Joe dropped them. "It almost doesn't seem like it." He looked out over the glistening waters of San Francisco Bay. On one side lay the Pacific Ocean and the island prison Alcatraz. He glanced in the opposite direction. On his other side was one of the most eclectic cities in the county and…
"Nancy?"
Joe whipped his head around. "You're kidding."
But Frank rarely kidded. And indeed, it was Nancy Drew his older brother had spotted standing by a clump of outdoor tables, looking in their general direction. Joe took a moment to admire the view. Their long-time friend and co-sleuth looked beautiful and he didn't feel guilty acknowledging that. Still, he kept the thought to himself. Especially when he snuck a look at his brother's face.
Frank's smile appeared to be nothing more than friendly, but Joe had long since learned to read between his brother's lines. The burdens Frank had been carrying for too long seemed to lift all of a sudden. He was happy to see her. Very happy.
"Do you think she's undercover?" Joe asked.
"I don't know. She might think we are." Frank handed the sodas back to him. "Let's exercise the old 'you look just like a friend of mine' routine."
"Good call." The brothers left the vendor and weaved their way through the tourists and seafood stands until they came to Nancy's table. It was then that they noticed her best friend, George. They appeared to be alone as there were only two drinks on the table between them.
Frank cleared his throat. "Do you know that you look exactly like this girl I used to know?" he told Nancy.
She laughed merrily, knowing that they would never approach her if they were undercover themselves. "Oh, do I?" Lowering her voice, she continued, "It's all right. My name is Nancy Freeman here, but nothing more deep than that."
"Then it's okay to hug?" Joe grinned wickedly.
As soon as she nodded, she found herself in the younger Hardy brother's arms being squeezed tightly. "We missed you," he declared, releasing her.
Nancy's eyes were on Frank. "It has been a long time, hasn't it?"
"A year and a half." He hesitated before hugging her. "It's good to see you." She smelled like fresh air and freesia and he didn't want to let go. But knowing their unspoken boundaries, Frank pulled back.
"It's good to see you, too," Nancy replied, softly.
George took her turn, hugging each brother briefly. "What are you two doing in San Francisco?"
Joe munched on a crab cake as he answered her question. "We're here for the World Sailing Competition." He swallowed. "We have a friend who might win it."
"Is that this weekend?!" George shot Nancy a glance that literally screamed her excitement. "Nan, did you know?"
Nancy shook her head. "But then I've been spending a lot of time in the kitchen."
"The kitchen?" Frank was puzzled; Nancy was many things, but the happy homemaker was not one of them.
"I'm working as an apprentice chef at a restaurant called Curacao." After discreetly looking around to see if anyone around them was paying too much attention to their conversation, Nancy quickly summed up her current case. Frank couldn't mistake the disappointment in her voice when she finished up, "I have no clues and nothing's happened since I arrived. I suppose you could say I'm stuck."
He was sympathetic to her frustration having felt it before on his own cases. "Well, Joe and I would be happy to help out. Not that I think you need it, or anything."
"Actually, I might just take you up on that." Nancy looked up at him with her bright blue eyes. "I can always use help."
Because the two of them seemed content to keep staring at each other all afternoon, Joe elbowed his brother. "We've gotta get going if we're going to make it in time." He explained to George, "The preliminary competition is today starting in Sausalito. Patrick…that's our friend…he's favored to get a top spot going into the finals. We're just moral support, but he'd be lost without us." George snickered. "Hey, do you gals want to come along?"
It was only when Nancy shook her head that Frank realized how much he'd wanted her to say yes. "I can't. Victoria is expecting me back at the restaurant. But George isn't busy."
"Free and clear," her friend added eagerly.
"How about we meet for dinner later?" Nancy suggested. "I don't have to work tonight, so I could show you everything I have on the case so far. And we could catch up."
"At Curacao?" George suggested
Nancy shook her head, her ponytail swaying like red silk. "It's my night off. Let's eat in JapanTown. Call me when the race is over and we'll figure out a time and place."
"We don't have your number," Frank reminded her.
"George does." Nancy paused. "But just in case...." With a pen from her purse, she reached for Frank's hand and turned it over. She wrote her cell phone number on the heel of his palm. "Don't lose that hand."
She winked and Frank swallowed heavily. "Yeah, no. I…um…won't." He looked at Joe who was finishing off his second crab cake and giving him a very curious look. "Let's go then."
"Bye, Nan!" George called out happily. "Don't work too hard!"
****
It was a short ride to Sausalito in the brothers' rental car. Frank drove, with Joe in the passenger's seat and George in the back, taking in the scenery. Unabashedly, Joe flipped on the radio to a rock station he'd located earlier, hoping the heavy drum solos would keep George from hearing what he desperately wanted to ask his brother.
"Was it just me, or was there something going on back there?"
Frank kept his eyes on the road. "What are you babbling about?"
"It's not nice to lie to your brother. Especially when he can read you like a book." Joe crossed his arms triumphantly. "You and Nancy. It's always there, Frank, but this time…" He trailed off, not needing to spell it out. "And now that Callie's out of the picture, maybe…"
"Callie might be," Frank cut him off. "But Ned isn't." He shook his head. "Besides, it's only been three months since Callie and I broke up."
"Officially, maybe. But it's been a lot longer than that since you two stopped being a couple."
It still stung a little to hear the words, but Frank brushed the pain aside. He had loved Callie Shaw quite a lot with the eyes of a teenager. As an adult, that love had cooled into friendship. It was nowhere near as dramatic a tale as Joe liked to tell. "Nancy and I are friends, good friends. And maybe we've had a moment or two of…"
"Passionate smooching?"
Frank gave him a glare. "Indiscretion. But I have too much respect for Ned Nickerson to repeat past mistakes. Got it?"
Joe held up his hands innocently. "Whatever you say. Although you know, Nancy was there for those indiscretions, as you so romantically put it."
"So?"
"I'm just saying."
George poked her head between the two front seats. "Can you nudge it down just a bit, Joe? I can't hear myself think back here."
He returned the volume to a reasonable level. "My bad."
They reached the competition site twenty minutes later and piled out of the car. Dozens of boats dotted the dark blue water, with sails in every color of the rainbow. The gusts coming off the ocean were a lot stronger than on the Wharf; Frank zipped his windbreaker up to his chin and saw George do the same.
"We knew Patrick in high school," Joe told her as they made their way down to the row of piers from which the sailors were launching. "He's been sailing practically since he was born which is why he's so good at it. The only thing's that ever stopped him was money; it's not a cheap hobby. But he's being sponsored now."
George nodded. She knew about sponsorships, having turned down one in tennis to go to college. "If I were Bess, I'd ask you to fix me up."
"And I'd do it, too," he grinned. "But Patrick's a taken man."
Frank led them to the right pier, squinting in the glare coming from the water. "Do you see him?" A moment later, he answered his own question when he spotted a man coming towards them. "Patrick! Over here!"
Patrick Bergman was a notoriously personable guy who could never be found in anything more formal than khaki board shorts and boat shoes. But as he walked towards the trio, his steps were heavy. His handsome face, tanned and weathered from hours on the water, was completely distraught. Frank frowned. Something was wrong.
"Frank…Joe." Their friend rubbed his hand across his mouth, apparently in a mild state of shock. "My boat…"
The brothers exchanged a look before "Your boat? What's wrong with it?"
"Come and…come and see."
Sitting at a private pier a good ways away from its competitors, Patrick's sailboat, named "Sarah's Wind" after his girlfriend, was in a sad state. The crisp white material of the main sail had been slit down the center. Red paint had been splashed all over the hull and keel and the rudder was broken in half.
"The harbor master says it must have happened last night." Taking a breath, Patrick went on. "I just got here…and it was like this."
"Damn," Joe muttered under his breath as he surveyed the damage. He was no expert, but barring a miracle, it didn't seem likely that Patrick would be sailing that day.
****
To Be Continued