Disclaimer: Characters do not belong to me, but to the Stratemeyer Syndicate and Simon & Schuster. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: I'm sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out. I've had some health issues that have slowed me down, but nothing to worry about and I hope to get back to my regular updating schedule. I'm participating in National Novel Writing Month, but I should be able to juggle everything with a little bit of fairy dust. Thanks for all the encouragement and kind words!
****
Bay of Peril
by Kristen Elizabeth
****
It could have been much worse.
Nancy sat on the cold, concrete curb across the street from Curacao and inhaled, as instructed, from the oxygen tube a paramedic had given her. Her red-rimmed eyes watched the chaos outside Victoria's restaurant. The firefighters had arrived only minutes after she and Frank had gotten out of the building through the kitchen entrance, and they had successfully subdued the blaze. But smoke still poured out of the broken windows and battered door, and there was little to be done about the damages.
Beside her, Frank reached for her hand. "Are you okay?" he asked for the fiftieth time.
"Still fine," she assured him. "Just…stunned." Frank laced his fingers with hers; she smiled and looked over at him. His handsome face was smudged with ashes, but she was certain she hadn't fared any better. "Victoria will be here soon. I need to be strong for her."
"You've got enough strength for ten people. Just don't forget…I'm here if you need me." He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed her knuckles. As he did, he noticed a uniformed man approaching them. "I think it's time to give statements now, though."
"Frank Hardy?" the police officer read off a pad of paper that was in his pudgy hand. "And Nancy Freeman?" They both nodded; Frank stood up to greet the man. "Sit down, son. Keep on breathing. I just have a few questions for the two of you, if you don't mind."
Nancy lowered the blue plastic tube from her lips and nodded. "We want to help."
"Good. Now, first of all…just what were the two of you doing in the restaurant this late after closing?"
"I'm training here as an apprentice chef," Nancy replied. "I stayed late to work on a recipe. My…friend…he stopped by to keep me company."
The officer made a note of this. "Now, you told the first officer on the scene that you didn't hear or see anything prior to the fire alarm going off?"
"Nothing," Frank told him. "We heard the alarm and saw smoke coming from the front. By the time we got there, there wasn't much we could do. So we got out and called 911, but there was already a unit on the way."
"It's going to take some more investigating, but the arson guys think that the fire might have been set by someone throwing something through one of the windows. You didn't hear glass breaking or anything?"
Nancy shook her head. "But the wall between the kitchen and the dining room is fairly thick, so the patrons can't hear the chefs in the back."
"Working here, miss, do you know any reason why someone might have done this?"
Her fingers tightened around Frank's. "There have been other…incidents with the restaurant. But you should probably talk to Victoria Lott, the owner; she'll be here soon."
The officer nodded. "We've got both of your contact information, and we'll be in touch if we need anything else. I'd suggest going home and getting a good night's sleep." He walked away as nonchalantly as he'd approached them.
"I hate pushing Victoria, but I really think it's time she let the police in on all of this," Nancy said a moment later. "Maybe I'm in over my head."
"We're always in over our heads," Frank reminded her. "But we never go under, do we?"
"No." She sighed softly and rested her cheek on his shoulder. "Not yet, anyways." He said nothing, only kissed the top of her head before laying his own cheek on her red locks.
Joe found them in that same position a few minutes later when he pulled up to the scene. He took a moment, after jumping out of the driver's seat, to enjoy the picture they made. Soot-dusted, oxygen deprived, but holding hands and leaning on each other. A broad grin spread across his face that just wouldn't go away.
"Frank," he called out, slamming the door closed and jogging over to them. "Nancy…are you two okay? What happened?!"
Something compelled them to pull away from each other. Nancy cleared her throat and put the oxygen tube back in her mouth, leaving Frank to answer his brother. "We're fine, Joe. But the restaurant…" He gestured with his own oxygen apparatus. "That's another story."
Frank quickly filled Joe in on the evening's events, minus everything that had happened just before the fire broke out. After he was done, he frowned. "You got here awfully fast. I only called Patrick's cell five minutes ago."
"We ended up at a club just a few blocks away," Joe explained. "You're sure you're both okay?"
"I'm counting this as my sixty-sixth fire encounter." Nancy smiled bravely. "Can you beat that, Hardy?"
If Joe hadn't been standing right there, Frank would have kissed her again. It was so like Nancy to brush off danger with wit and her indefatigable charm. "Sixty-seventh. But I don't like to brag."
Joe rolled his eyes. "I'll take that as a 'yes'." He looked back at the restaurant. "Is it a complete loss?"
Nancy lifted her shoulders. "Let's hope not. For Victoria's sake." As if on cue, a cab pulled up just behind the brothers' rental car and the woman in question stepped out, hastily dressed with her hair still in curlers. Taking a deep breath, Nancy set aside the oxygen tube and stood up. "There isn't any easy way to do this, except to just do it."
Frank reached for her hand again. "Remember what I told you."
"I know." She squeezed his fingers lightly. "If we don't get to talk again tonight…call me tomorrow."
As Nancy made her way over to her devastated friend, Joe folded his arms over his chest. "Care to fill me in, big brother?"
"No." Frank rose to his feet. "Did you leave Patrick and Sarah at the club?"
Joe nodded, then thought better of it. "Well, Sarah at least. Patrick left his ID at his hotel room and had to go back for it. Thankfully he left his cell phone with us, or else I'd still be there, instead of here. Sarah's still waiting for him, I guess. They can boogie the night away without me, as far as I'm concerned. One more minute of Sarah's babble and my brain was going to just break."
"Sorry about ditching you with them."
"Buy me breakfast and we'll call it even." Joe unfolded his arms. "Did you find anything out at the police station?"
Frank shook his head. "They won't perform the autopsy until tomorrow…well, today I guess. This afternoon." He looked over at Nancy. She had her arms around Victoria, comforting the woman as best she could. "Nancy and I did make a little bit of progress, though."
"Oh, did you? Did you really?"
When he caught the leer in his brother's tone, Frank scowled. "Do you want a minute-by-minute report or something? Are you that desperate?"
"Hey! Joe Hardy is never desperate!! But in the absence of any action of his own on this vacation, he will concede to living vicariously though his brother." Joe wriggled his eyebrows. "Were any bases reached or are you still waiting for the pitch?"
"You need help. I meant progress on the case. I'll fill you in later."
"On the case or the bases?"
Frank leveled him with a hard look, before his face relaxed into a reluctant smile. "Both."
****
Hours later, Nancy stood in the shower a long time after every trace of shampoo had been rinsed away. The water was so hot that the entire bathroom was blanketed in steam, but she lingered, letting it flush her fair skin.
She'd kissed Frank Hardy. And it hadn't come about because of a life-threatening situation, or on the heels of an undercover investigation. She hadn't even thought about Ned, and she was fairly certain he hadn't been thinking about Callie. It had just been the two of them, unable to hold back everything they'd gotten so good at repressing.
And it had been wonderful. Well…up until the fire and partial destruction of Curacao, at least.
Despite that, Nancy smiled as she finally shut the water off and stepped out of the shower. She had just begun drying off when there was a knock on the door.
"Nan," George called out. "Phone. It's Frank."
Speeding up her efforts, she wrapped the towel around her slender body and squeezed excess water from her hair before she opened the door. George handed her the little phone.
"Frank?" Was her voice too breathless? Did she sound too eager? Nancy cleared her throat. "Good morning."
"Morning," he greeted her warmly. "Did you sleep?"
"Some." Her dreams had been laced with kisses and fire alarms, both of which had kept her tossing and turning. "You?"
Frank, apparently, had no problem taking the honest route. "I couldn't stop thinking about you."
Nancy put her hand to her cheek, surprised that she didn't burn herself. How was she supposed to respond to that?
Fortunately, she didn't have to come up with an answer to that as Frank continued, "How is your friend doing?"
"Shell-shocked," she replied, sitting down on the closed lid of the toilet. "She's talking about closing down the restaurant, not even bothering with the repairs. It's disheartening, I know, but I don't want her to give up. No one should be forced into giving up on their dream."
"I agree. Maybe she'll feel differently after the shock wears off."
"I hope so." Nancy tucked a wet lock of hair behind her ear. "So…what are you doing today? Because I pretty much have the day off, due to extreme circumstances."
"Today's the final race. Joe and I are heading down to the Bay to cheer Patrick on."
She nodded. "I understand. I should probably hang around the restaurant for clues or…"
"Spend the day with us," Frank continued in a rush. "With me."
Her smile was broad and bright. "I'd like that."
****
She met them down at the piers just off the rocky beach that bordered San Francisco Bay after changing into jeans and a long sleeved top that brought out the blue in her eyes. George was more than happy to go with her, being the sports enthusiast that she was, and also because she could sense how nervous Nancy was. She'd gotten the full details on the pre-fire kiss the night before, and truthfully she couldn't have been happier for her friend. It would have taken a very dense person not to pick up on the sparks between her and Frank, especially after all the years they'd known each other; while she still liked Ned as a person, in her opinion it was time Nancy played the field a little bit…with a Hardy boy.
It only took a few minutes of scanning the crowd to locate the brothers and the two girls headed over to them, braving the cold wind sweeping over the harbor. Nancy shivered, but it wasn't the weather. Frank waved them over, a smile on the lips that had kissed hers so tenderly the night before. Could anything be the same between them again? Did she want things to be the same?
And why did he always have to look so handsome?
"Are we late?" she asked, brushing hair off her face to hide her blush. "We got caught in traffic."
"No, they're delaying the start time to see if the waves die down a bit. It's really bad sailing conditions right now," Frank replied. "Come on. I want to introduce you to Patrick."
Joe tugged on George's sleeve. "Let's go get some seats."
"Right." She winked at him. "Seats."
"I think they're playing matchmaker," Frank said as they quickly left the couple alone.
Nancy cleared her throat delicately. "Do they really need to?"
He looked at her for a long moment as they walked towards the pier from which Patrick would be sailing. "No. I suppose they don't. We're not doing so bad on our own."
"I really ought to feel guilty. I'm in the middle of an investigation, you know." She shook her head, smiling. "But I don't. Feel guilty."
Frank reached for her hand. "Well, if it helps, I'll try not to be too much of a distraction from now on."
"Too late, Hardy." She entwined her fingers with his.
He squeezed lightly. "I think you'll like Patrick. He's a good guy." Frank frowned. "Even if he has gotten mixed up in…" He stopped, having spotted Patrick heading towards them; Sarah was nowhere to be seen, but that wasn't unusual. She liked having a world famous boyfriend, but not watching the sport that made him so. "Hey! Patrick, I'd like you to meet my…good friend. Nancy. Nancy Freeman. Nancy, this is Patrick Bergman."
"It's nice to meet you, Patrick," Nancy said, warmly. "Frank's told me you're definitely going to win today."
It might have been his imagination, but Frank thought he caught a pained look on his friend's face. "Nice to meet you, too. And I am." He glanced back at Frank. "Man, you missed a hot time last night."
"Not really." Without giving away too many details, Frank described the downward twist his evening had taken. "We're okay, but it could have been a lot worse."
"Oh, man." Patrick swallowed, his Adam's apple visibly bobbing. "Man…that really…sucks." He looked away. "Listen, um, I gotta get to my boat. To get ready. So…I guess I'll see you later." He hesitated for a minute before hurrying away.
"Good luck!" Frank called out. But Patrick was already out of hearing range.
Nancy was puzzled. "Does he always get this flustered before a race?"
"No." His eyes narrowed. "He doesn't." After a moment, he shook off his frown. "Are you hungry?" She nodded. "Let's go grab something."
They brought corndogs and sodas back to a very grateful George and Joe, and the four of them sat in the bleachers eating and watching the pre-game chaos. Nancy's appetite faded quickly; she stared at the remainder of her corndog as her thoughts drifted every which way. The fire, the kiss, something Joe had said the night before, the look on Patrick's face only minutes earlier. Most of the pieces seemed to be there, but her mind just wasn't putting them together.
Joe finished off his food and looked longingly at Nancy's. "Are you going to eat that, Nan?"
She shook her head and offered it to him. "Go for it." Standing up, she continued, "I'll be right back."
Frank glanced up, concern evident in his warm, brown eyes. "Is something wrong?"
"No," Nancy reassured him with a smile. "I just need to find the ladies room."
George's nose wrinkled up. "I'm sorry to inform you that there's nothing but porta-potties."
"Oh. Well, I'll manage." She started down the bleachers. The truth was, she had no need of the facilities. She just needed some fresh, sea-air to clear her head and get it thinking right again. Frank probably would have understood that, but what he might not have understood was his role in getting her thoughts jumbled in the first place.
Whatever had happened the night before, she still had ties to Ned that weren't going to be easy to undo. Part of her heart would always belong to her first love. Could Frank accept that? Was it even fair to ask him to? Perhaps part of his heart still belonged to Callie. Would that make her feel better…or worse?
Sometimes being so analytical in nature frustrated Nancy. Why, she thought, couldn't she be more like Bess? Bess, who followed her heart without hesitation. Yes, it had been broken once or twice, but she rarely regretted the experiences, and she certainly never sat around for hours contemplating every possible angle or recourse before going after something she wanted. Bess wore her heart on her gauzy sleeves; Nancy kept hers under lock and key.
She was too far away to make out much of his face, but Nancy glanced back towards the bleachers, searching out Frank's sturdy figure. If there was one person in the world who she could trust with her heart, Frank was it. She already trusted him with her life, after all.
Nancy turned back around, a new determination in her steps. Frank was worth the risk, worth the pain that would come from breaking up with Ned. Having a relationship with him was worth everything to her.
She found herself walking away from the crowd, but closer to the docks where the racers were preparing to set sail as soon as the Bay began to cooperate. On a pier set a good ways away from the others, two people in particular stood out to her; one because he was wearing the exact same orange, hooded sweatshirt that Patrick had on when they were introduced earlier. And indeed, as she drew closer, she could tell that it was Patrick. He was deep in what looked to be a very heated conversation with a man in black pants and a black turtleneck. Nancy couldn't see the other man's face as his back was towards her as he and Patrick argued.
There wasn't any way to get closer to hear what was being said without being spotted, so Nancy slowly withdrew and started back towards the bleachers. She was almost there when a single shot cracked through the ocean breezes.
In the bleachers, Frank and Joe jumped to their feet as soon as they heard the shot. Panic was already beginning to spread throughout the crowd. Instinctively, Frank searched for Nancy and relaxed only when he spotted her running up the metal steps.
"Did you hear that, Nan?" George asked, unnecessarily.
"I have a bad feeling," her friend replied in a breathless voice. Her slender hands gripped Frank's arms. "I saw Patrick arguing with some man…I don't know….I just think…"
She didn't need to finish her thought. "Show me where," he demanded, reaching for her hand.
They joined a steady stream of people towards the docks with Joe and George hot on their heels. A throng of people had gathered around the place Nancy had feared they might, namely the pier from which Patrick's boat was to have set sail. Together, she and Frank wove their way through bodies and past curiosity-seekers until they reached the center of the confusion.
To their horror, Patrick lay crumpled on the weathered wood, a single gunshot wound to his chest creating a bloody pool around his body.
****
To Be Continued
Author's Notes: I'm sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out. I've had some health issues that have slowed me down, but nothing to worry about and I hope to get back to my regular updating schedule. I'm participating in National Novel Writing Month, but I should be able to juggle everything with a little bit of fairy dust. Thanks for all the encouragement and kind words!
****
Bay of Peril
by Kristen Elizabeth
****
It could have been much worse.
Nancy sat on the cold, concrete curb across the street from Curacao and inhaled, as instructed, from the oxygen tube a paramedic had given her. Her red-rimmed eyes watched the chaos outside Victoria's restaurant. The firefighters had arrived only minutes after she and Frank had gotten out of the building through the kitchen entrance, and they had successfully subdued the blaze. But smoke still poured out of the broken windows and battered door, and there was little to be done about the damages.
Beside her, Frank reached for her hand. "Are you okay?" he asked for the fiftieth time.
"Still fine," she assured him. "Just…stunned." Frank laced his fingers with hers; she smiled and looked over at him. His handsome face was smudged with ashes, but she was certain she hadn't fared any better. "Victoria will be here soon. I need to be strong for her."
"You've got enough strength for ten people. Just don't forget…I'm here if you need me." He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed her knuckles. As he did, he noticed a uniformed man approaching them. "I think it's time to give statements now, though."
"Frank Hardy?" the police officer read off a pad of paper that was in his pudgy hand. "And Nancy Freeman?" They both nodded; Frank stood up to greet the man. "Sit down, son. Keep on breathing. I just have a few questions for the two of you, if you don't mind."
Nancy lowered the blue plastic tube from her lips and nodded. "We want to help."
"Good. Now, first of all…just what were the two of you doing in the restaurant this late after closing?"
"I'm training here as an apprentice chef," Nancy replied. "I stayed late to work on a recipe. My…friend…he stopped by to keep me company."
The officer made a note of this. "Now, you told the first officer on the scene that you didn't hear or see anything prior to the fire alarm going off?"
"Nothing," Frank told him. "We heard the alarm and saw smoke coming from the front. By the time we got there, there wasn't much we could do. So we got out and called 911, but there was already a unit on the way."
"It's going to take some more investigating, but the arson guys think that the fire might have been set by someone throwing something through one of the windows. You didn't hear glass breaking or anything?"
Nancy shook her head. "But the wall between the kitchen and the dining room is fairly thick, so the patrons can't hear the chefs in the back."
"Working here, miss, do you know any reason why someone might have done this?"
Her fingers tightened around Frank's. "There have been other…incidents with the restaurant. But you should probably talk to Victoria Lott, the owner; she'll be here soon."
The officer nodded. "We've got both of your contact information, and we'll be in touch if we need anything else. I'd suggest going home and getting a good night's sleep." He walked away as nonchalantly as he'd approached them.
"I hate pushing Victoria, but I really think it's time she let the police in on all of this," Nancy said a moment later. "Maybe I'm in over my head."
"We're always in over our heads," Frank reminded her. "But we never go under, do we?"
"No." She sighed softly and rested her cheek on his shoulder. "Not yet, anyways." He said nothing, only kissed the top of her head before laying his own cheek on her red locks.
Joe found them in that same position a few minutes later when he pulled up to the scene. He took a moment, after jumping out of the driver's seat, to enjoy the picture they made. Soot-dusted, oxygen deprived, but holding hands and leaning on each other. A broad grin spread across his face that just wouldn't go away.
"Frank," he called out, slamming the door closed and jogging over to them. "Nancy…are you two okay? What happened?!"
Something compelled them to pull away from each other. Nancy cleared her throat and put the oxygen tube back in her mouth, leaving Frank to answer his brother. "We're fine, Joe. But the restaurant…" He gestured with his own oxygen apparatus. "That's another story."
Frank quickly filled Joe in on the evening's events, minus everything that had happened just before the fire broke out. After he was done, he frowned. "You got here awfully fast. I only called Patrick's cell five minutes ago."
"We ended up at a club just a few blocks away," Joe explained. "You're sure you're both okay?"
"I'm counting this as my sixty-sixth fire encounter." Nancy smiled bravely. "Can you beat that, Hardy?"
If Joe hadn't been standing right there, Frank would have kissed her again. It was so like Nancy to brush off danger with wit and her indefatigable charm. "Sixty-seventh. But I don't like to brag."
Joe rolled his eyes. "I'll take that as a 'yes'." He looked back at the restaurant. "Is it a complete loss?"
Nancy lifted her shoulders. "Let's hope not. For Victoria's sake." As if on cue, a cab pulled up just behind the brothers' rental car and the woman in question stepped out, hastily dressed with her hair still in curlers. Taking a deep breath, Nancy set aside the oxygen tube and stood up. "There isn't any easy way to do this, except to just do it."
Frank reached for her hand again. "Remember what I told you."
"I know." She squeezed his fingers lightly. "If we don't get to talk again tonight…call me tomorrow."
As Nancy made her way over to her devastated friend, Joe folded his arms over his chest. "Care to fill me in, big brother?"
"No." Frank rose to his feet. "Did you leave Patrick and Sarah at the club?"
Joe nodded, then thought better of it. "Well, Sarah at least. Patrick left his ID at his hotel room and had to go back for it. Thankfully he left his cell phone with us, or else I'd still be there, instead of here. Sarah's still waiting for him, I guess. They can boogie the night away without me, as far as I'm concerned. One more minute of Sarah's babble and my brain was going to just break."
"Sorry about ditching you with them."
"Buy me breakfast and we'll call it even." Joe unfolded his arms. "Did you find anything out at the police station?"
Frank shook his head. "They won't perform the autopsy until tomorrow…well, today I guess. This afternoon." He looked over at Nancy. She had her arms around Victoria, comforting the woman as best she could. "Nancy and I did make a little bit of progress, though."
"Oh, did you? Did you really?"
When he caught the leer in his brother's tone, Frank scowled. "Do you want a minute-by-minute report or something? Are you that desperate?"
"Hey! Joe Hardy is never desperate!! But in the absence of any action of his own on this vacation, he will concede to living vicariously though his brother." Joe wriggled his eyebrows. "Were any bases reached or are you still waiting for the pitch?"
"You need help. I meant progress on the case. I'll fill you in later."
"On the case or the bases?"
Frank leveled him with a hard look, before his face relaxed into a reluctant smile. "Both."
****
Hours later, Nancy stood in the shower a long time after every trace of shampoo had been rinsed away. The water was so hot that the entire bathroom was blanketed in steam, but she lingered, letting it flush her fair skin.
She'd kissed Frank Hardy. And it hadn't come about because of a life-threatening situation, or on the heels of an undercover investigation. She hadn't even thought about Ned, and she was fairly certain he hadn't been thinking about Callie. It had just been the two of them, unable to hold back everything they'd gotten so good at repressing.
And it had been wonderful. Well…up until the fire and partial destruction of Curacao, at least.
Despite that, Nancy smiled as she finally shut the water off and stepped out of the shower. She had just begun drying off when there was a knock on the door.
"Nan," George called out. "Phone. It's Frank."
Speeding up her efforts, she wrapped the towel around her slender body and squeezed excess water from her hair before she opened the door. George handed her the little phone.
"Frank?" Was her voice too breathless? Did she sound too eager? Nancy cleared her throat. "Good morning."
"Morning," he greeted her warmly. "Did you sleep?"
"Some." Her dreams had been laced with kisses and fire alarms, both of which had kept her tossing and turning. "You?"
Frank, apparently, had no problem taking the honest route. "I couldn't stop thinking about you."
Nancy put her hand to her cheek, surprised that she didn't burn herself. How was she supposed to respond to that?
Fortunately, she didn't have to come up with an answer to that as Frank continued, "How is your friend doing?"
"Shell-shocked," she replied, sitting down on the closed lid of the toilet. "She's talking about closing down the restaurant, not even bothering with the repairs. It's disheartening, I know, but I don't want her to give up. No one should be forced into giving up on their dream."
"I agree. Maybe she'll feel differently after the shock wears off."
"I hope so." Nancy tucked a wet lock of hair behind her ear. "So…what are you doing today? Because I pretty much have the day off, due to extreme circumstances."
"Today's the final race. Joe and I are heading down to the Bay to cheer Patrick on."
She nodded. "I understand. I should probably hang around the restaurant for clues or…"
"Spend the day with us," Frank continued in a rush. "With me."
Her smile was broad and bright. "I'd like that."
****
She met them down at the piers just off the rocky beach that bordered San Francisco Bay after changing into jeans and a long sleeved top that brought out the blue in her eyes. George was more than happy to go with her, being the sports enthusiast that she was, and also because she could sense how nervous Nancy was. She'd gotten the full details on the pre-fire kiss the night before, and truthfully she couldn't have been happier for her friend. It would have taken a very dense person not to pick up on the sparks between her and Frank, especially after all the years they'd known each other; while she still liked Ned as a person, in her opinion it was time Nancy played the field a little bit…with a Hardy boy.
It only took a few minutes of scanning the crowd to locate the brothers and the two girls headed over to them, braving the cold wind sweeping over the harbor. Nancy shivered, but it wasn't the weather. Frank waved them over, a smile on the lips that had kissed hers so tenderly the night before. Could anything be the same between them again? Did she want things to be the same?
And why did he always have to look so handsome?
"Are we late?" she asked, brushing hair off her face to hide her blush. "We got caught in traffic."
"No, they're delaying the start time to see if the waves die down a bit. It's really bad sailing conditions right now," Frank replied. "Come on. I want to introduce you to Patrick."
Joe tugged on George's sleeve. "Let's go get some seats."
"Right." She winked at him. "Seats."
"I think they're playing matchmaker," Frank said as they quickly left the couple alone.
Nancy cleared her throat delicately. "Do they really need to?"
He looked at her for a long moment as they walked towards the pier from which Patrick would be sailing. "No. I suppose they don't. We're not doing so bad on our own."
"I really ought to feel guilty. I'm in the middle of an investigation, you know." She shook her head, smiling. "But I don't. Feel guilty."
Frank reached for her hand. "Well, if it helps, I'll try not to be too much of a distraction from now on."
"Too late, Hardy." She entwined her fingers with his.
He squeezed lightly. "I think you'll like Patrick. He's a good guy." Frank frowned. "Even if he has gotten mixed up in…" He stopped, having spotted Patrick heading towards them; Sarah was nowhere to be seen, but that wasn't unusual. She liked having a world famous boyfriend, but not watching the sport that made him so. "Hey! Patrick, I'd like you to meet my…good friend. Nancy. Nancy Freeman. Nancy, this is Patrick Bergman."
"It's nice to meet you, Patrick," Nancy said, warmly. "Frank's told me you're definitely going to win today."
It might have been his imagination, but Frank thought he caught a pained look on his friend's face. "Nice to meet you, too. And I am." He glanced back at Frank. "Man, you missed a hot time last night."
"Not really." Without giving away too many details, Frank described the downward twist his evening had taken. "We're okay, but it could have been a lot worse."
"Oh, man." Patrick swallowed, his Adam's apple visibly bobbing. "Man…that really…sucks." He looked away. "Listen, um, I gotta get to my boat. To get ready. So…I guess I'll see you later." He hesitated for a minute before hurrying away.
"Good luck!" Frank called out. But Patrick was already out of hearing range.
Nancy was puzzled. "Does he always get this flustered before a race?"
"No." His eyes narrowed. "He doesn't." After a moment, he shook off his frown. "Are you hungry?" She nodded. "Let's go grab something."
They brought corndogs and sodas back to a very grateful George and Joe, and the four of them sat in the bleachers eating and watching the pre-game chaos. Nancy's appetite faded quickly; she stared at the remainder of her corndog as her thoughts drifted every which way. The fire, the kiss, something Joe had said the night before, the look on Patrick's face only minutes earlier. Most of the pieces seemed to be there, but her mind just wasn't putting them together.
Joe finished off his food and looked longingly at Nancy's. "Are you going to eat that, Nan?"
She shook her head and offered it to him. "Go for it." Standing up, she continued, "I'll be right back."
Frank glanced up, concern evident in his warm, brown eyes. "Is something wrong?"
"No," Nancy reassured him with a smile. "I just need to find the ladies room."
George's nose wrinkled up. "I'm sorry to inform you that there's nothing but porta-potties."
"Oh. Well, I'll manage." She started down the bleachers. The truth was, she had no need of the facilities. She just needed some fresh, sea-air to clear her head and get it thinking right again. Frank probably would have understood that, but what he might not have understood was his role in getting her thoughts jumbled in the first place.
Whatever had happened the night before, she still had ties to Ned that weren't going to be easy to undo. Part of her heart would always belong to her first love. Could Frank accept that? Was it even fair to ask him to? Perhaps part of his heart still belonged to Callie. Would that make her feel better…or worse?
Sometimes being so analytical in nature frustrated Nancy. Why, she thought, couldn't she be more like Bess? Bess, who followed her heart without hesitation. Yes, it had been broken once or twice, but she rarely regretted the experiences, and she certainly never sat around for hours contemplating every possible angle or recourse before going after something she wanted. Bess wore her heart on her gauzy sleeves; Nancy kept hers under lock and key.
She was too far away to make out much of his face, but Nancy glanced back towards the bleachers, searching out Frank's sturdy figure. If there was one person in the world who she could trust with her heart, Frank was it. She already trusted him with her life, after all.
Nancy turned back around, a new determination in her steps. Frank was worth the risk, worth the pain that would come from breaking up with Ned. Having a relationship with him was worth everything to her.
She found herself walking away from the crowd, but closer to the docks where the racers were preparing to set sail as soon as the Bay began to cooperate. On a pier set a good ways away from the others, two people in particular stood out to her; one because he was wearing the exact same orange, hooded sweatshirt that Patrick had on when they were introduced earlier. And indeed, as she drew closer, she could tell that it was Patrick. He was deep in what looked to be a very heated conversation with a man in black pants and a black turtleneck. Nancy couldn't see the other man's face as his back was towards her as he and Patrick argued.
There wasn't any way to get closer to hear what was being said without being spotted, so Nancy slowly withdrew and started back towards the bleachers. She was almost there when a single shot cracked through the ocean breezes.
In the bleachers, Frank and Joe jumped to their feet as soon as they heard the shot. Panic was already beginning to spread throughout the crowd. Instinctively, Frank searched for Nancy and relaxed only when he spotted her running up the metal steps.
"Did you hear that, Nan?" George asked, unnecessarily.
"I have a bad feeling," her friend replied in a breathless voice. Her slender hands gripped Frank's arms. "I saw Patrick arguing with some man…I don't know….I just think…"
She didn't need to finish her thought. "Show me where," he demanded, reaching for her hand.
They joined a steady stream of people towards the docks with Joe and George hot on their heels. A throng of people had gathered around the place Nancy had feared they might, namely the pier from which Patrick's boat was to have set sail. Together, she and Frank wove their way through bodies and past curiosity-seekers until they reached the center of the confusion.
To their horror, Patrick lay crumpled on the weathered wood, a single gunshot wound to his chest creating a bloody pool around his body.
****
To Be Continued