1The Meeting

Chapter Seven

An Explosion

A/N: 'Sup?

Disclaimer: Not mine, and if they were, I wouldn't even have to be writing this.

Daniel walked over to Nancy's car in the middle of the night. He had put off planting the bomb until it was completely dark outside, and all the lights in the Hardy's home were turned out. He sneaked up to the car and took the bomb out of his backpack. He opened the hood and hooked up some cables so that when she turned the ignition, it would explode just like that. He concealed the bomb so that it wouldn't be able to be found. He closed the hood and walked away.

Wednesday morning, Nancy walked out to the 'Vette. She opened up her hood to look for the bomb that Daniel had planned on planting. Seeing nothing, she closed the hood. She didn't know whether Alison had talked him out of it, or if he'd chickened out, or if something with the bomb had gotten messed up, or what. But still, she wanted to get a new car so that Danny wouldn't recognize it. She went inside and called Enterprise, who said they would send someone around 3:30 to pick up the Corvette and bring her a new car. She told them that it might be better to send a pick up truck or something to pick it up, saying she didn't think it would be safe to drive. When asked why, she just said that she had a few people out to get her, and you couldn't be too safe.

"Okay, let's go," Frank said when she had hung up. "We'll take the van," he added, knowing Nancy didn't want to use her car, and that a replacement car would be coming later that day.

"What kind of car are you getting again, Nance," Joe asked. "I know you've told us before, but I keep forgetting. Isn't it something old?"

"I'm getting a blue Ferrari Daytona 365GTS/4 Spider." Nancy explained.

"A what," Frank asked.

"Don't you two know anything about cars? Or the history of cars? Other than the obvious? Or know the names of any old cars," she asked, exasperated. At their somewhat blank faces, she explained again. " A Ferrari Daytona 365GTS/4 Spider. Its a V12, 352 bhp, 174 mph 2 seater that was manufactured from the 1960s to the 1970s. 365GTS/4 represent the capacity of one of its dozen cylinders, the body type Gran Turismo Berlina, and the number of its cams- which is 4. At the time, it was considered one of the fastest front-engined road cars ever built, which really talks for its aerodynamic efficiency. With the soft top down, the Daytona Spider was the ideal car for cruising down the road. It was also the last of its kind, since it was eventually displaced by the mid-engined Boxer, which was only ever sold as a closed car. Any questions?"

"Ah, yeah," Joe said. "How do you know all that. I wouldn't have pictured you as a car person."

Nancy shrugged. "My uncle Jamie owns a ton of old cars. Three years ago, he built a twenty car garage. He owns his own body repair shop, too. He's teaching my cousins Jake and Troy the business. I hang around, too, and I've really gotten into it," Nancy was about to say more, but then her face saddened. She continued quietly, "Uncle Jamie was really upset when Mom died. They're twins you know. Most of the time, it was them and their older brother, my Uncle Jeff. Grandpa left when Mom and Jamie were seven, and Grandma was drunk most of the time. Anyway, when Mom was killed, Uncle Jamie was really upset. He almost sold his favorite car, his Dusenberg, but Dad told him that Mom wouldn't have wanted that. I remember when Uncle Jamie told me about that."

Flashback

13 year old Nancy was in her Uncle Jamie's brand new 20 car garage. She was cleaning the Aston Martin's Virage, while her uncle cleaned his BMW 328. "Uncle Jamie, what kind of car did Mom have? Do you have one of them?"

Jamie Winslow looked up from his 1930s car and toward his niece cleaning the 1970s Virage. He nodded toward the car she was cleaning. "That was your mother's car. Your dad didn't want to get rid of it when she died, but he also didn't want it at your house. Said you might see it and think that she was back. When you got older, he said it brought back too many memories," he said, walking over to the Virage, and climbing in the driver's seat, motioning Nancy to get in the passenger seat. He pulled a remote control from his pocket and opened one of the many garage doors. "Let's take a drive. I want to talk to you."

"K," Nancy said, buckling her seatbelt while Jamie buckled his.

"Nancy, you know tomorrow's the day she was murdered, don't you?"

"Yeah," she said as he pulled onto the main road.

"Well, you know what I did when I found out she died?"

"Nope."

"Well, I went to my garage, which was only three cars then, and I got in my Dusenberg, and I sat there and cried. When I was done, I decided to sell all the cars I had that Aunt Renee or I didn't use to get to and from places on a daily basis. Back then, I only had one, which was the Dusenberg. Your dad called later on, and I told him what I was planning on doing. He told me that Elizabeth wouldn't have wanted that, and that she would want me to keep doing what I loved doing, and that was cars. Well, I realized he was right so I didn't sell it."

"That's good," Nancy said. "I like the Dusenberg."

Jamie laughed. "I like it too. You know what? Since we're talking about Elizabeth, I'm going to tell you something."

"What?"

"I don't think Philip Rogers murdered her."

"But...Dad said-"

"I know what everyone says," he sighed. "Maybe it'll be easier if I explain it like this. Philip and I belonged to the same auto club. I didn't know him that well, but I knew that Philip was crazy about his cars-he wouldn't even let anyone get too close to them. He had a Citroen DS Cabriolet, and he drooled over it. Not on it, but over it. He loved that car. He drove it everywhere, and he would always get to his destination half an hour early so that he could clean it from whatever got on it while he was driving. At court, he was asked about some blood that was smeared across the door. The blood was in plain sight. He said he got some blood on it, and forgot to clean it off. Now, the Philip from the auto club wouldn't have let the blood even come close to his car. And if he did, he would have scrubbed until it was spotless again. Unless, of course, the thought of murdering someone took him over, but he still would have definitely cleaned the car, I know he would. So that makes me think that the blood was there for a reason, and why would he put it there if it would implicate him? The only reason I can think of is that he was covering for someone, someone that he would rather go to jail for than see them go to jail. Plus, I don't think he would have killed Elizabeth because of his wife. I know for a fact that he was planning on filing for divorce the next month."

"Did you tell everyone that," Nancy asked.

Jamie nodded his head. "I did, but no one would listen to me. They all thought, "What would a car freak know about that?" Needless to say, they didn't follow up on it. Even your dad. Said there was too much evidence. But it could have been planted," he murmured under his breath.

"I believe you Uncle Jamie. But if Philip Rogers didn't kill Mom, then who did?"

"I don't know Nancy," Jamie said, driving back to his garage. "You know, he had a car coming over from Europe. It was a Delahaye Type 135 Convertible. Of course, he wouldn't drive it, since the steering wheel is on the right, but he was still excited about it. When he was arrested, he told his son, Cliff, to sell it at the auction at the auto club, which he did. Now, I was at the auction, and I talked to Cliff for a little while. I wanted the car, but there was no way I was going to buy it from them, even if I didn't think he was the murderer. Your dad would have had a cow if I even considered it. I got my own from Europe later that year. But anyway, I was talking to Cliff, and something just didn't seem right about him. I'd talked to him before, but his whole personality had changed. If I had to put my money-or my Dusenberg- on someone I thought Philip would cover up for, it would be Cliff. Of course, Cliff was twenty at the time, and people say he was out clubbing, but no one else saw him, except his best friends, and he could have had them lie for him," he said, as he parked the Aston Martin's Virage back in its place. "Nancy," he said, turning to her. "If you ever become a detective like Elizabeth, I want you to find out if Philip really did it, and if he didn't, I want you to find out who did. I tried, but I couldn't do it. Now its your turn."

Nancy nodded, and they shook their hands in a pact that Nancy would be sure to keep.

End Flashback

"Wow," Frank commented as they got in the van and drove off. "Your uncle really thinks Philip didn't kill your mom?"

Nancy nodded.

"Geez," Joe said. "That must be terrible, thinking that your twin's murderer is still out there, while everybody else thinks he's behind bars."

"Not everybody thinks so," Nancy said defensively. "I believe my uncle. I don't think he did it. I've been trying to investigate, but nothing's ever come up. I've talked to Danny, tried to maybe get him to open up a little, but I don't know if he would really know anything about it. He's always just kind of dealt with the fact that his father was a murderer, and nobody's ever told him otherwise. But I wonder..."

"What," Frank asked eagerly.

"Danny and I have always talked. We weren't best buds or anything, but we were more like...good acquaintances, you know what I mean?" They nodded, and she continued, "Not that long ago, Danny stopped talking to me completely. Whenever he saw me, he shot icy daggers, so to speak, at me. That must have been when he decided to get revenge on me. But why now? Something must have happened to make him want to get revenge all of a sudden. I wish I knew what it was."

"Don't worry, we'll find out," Joe reassured her as Frank parked in the school's parking lot.

"Thanks, Joe," Nancy said as they walked into the school.

6 hours later, Nancy's mind was reeling. She'd just spent the last 6 hours in classes, her mind wandering between not getting lost, school assignments, how everyone was doing back home, her stalker, and a ton of other stuff.

Frank pulled into the driveway back at the Hardy home, and a blue car being towed by a truck parked on the road in front of their house. To him and Joe, it sure looked like a car built in the 60s or 70s. "Is that the whichamacallit," Joe asked.

Nancy sighed. "Yes, that's the Ferrari Daytona 365GTS/4 Spider," she said, getting out, and walking over to the man getting out of the tow truck. "Hi," she said to him. "I'm Nancy Drew, and that 'Vette over there is what you're taking back." Frank and Joe had already went inside.

"K. Why d'ya wanna get a different car," he asked.

"Oh, you know, it just wasn't my style. But, um, I don't think anyone should be driving it anymore."

"What for,"

"I think there may be a bomb in there. You might want to have a mechanic look over it, make sure nothings under the hood that shouldn't be there. I know a lot about cars and all, but I'm not very familiar to this model. I could probably tell if something isn't there that should, but not the other way around."

"K. Most definitely," he said, walking over to the driver's door of the 'Vette.

"What are you doing!" Nancy cried, as he got in. "You aren't supposed to drive it!"

He popped his head back out and said, "I'm not gonna drive it, I just need to start it up so that I can lock the wheels and steering up, so the front wheels don't turn and reposition the whole car while I'm driving it. Fords don't have the locks, so its terrible towing them."

"Oh. I guess that's alright," Nancy said.

He'd already gotten back in the car. He turned the ignition, and then there was a BOOM! while the car exploded.

( and right here should be a line, but they don't seem to be showing up when I post them up ) A/N: So, what's you all think? I may not review a whole lot over the next few days. I'm watching my neighbor's dog all next week, and I'm going to a friend's b-day party, plus school starts on Wednesday, so I won't be able to update that much when that starts. Because, you know, I'm going to have a lot to do, between trying out for Bells, and I've got clarinet practice and concerts, and I'm trying to make the Baltimore Children's Symphony Orchestra, or whatever its called this year, plus my basketball schedule, plus teaching myself the piano, and teaching my brother piano, plus school work, plus baby-sitting, plus staying caught up on all my tv shows, plus watching NASCAR, and plus a whole bunch of other stuff. So typing chapters and posting won't be on the top of my list anymore, but I'll still try to update at least once a week. Don't expect another update till Monday, probably. If I do update before then, well, you're incredibly lucky. Because I still haven't even typed up the next chapter yet. I also noticed how some of my last A/N was cut off in the last chapter. Here's the rest of what I said there.

Your review wasn't harsh at all. I'm the one that gets accused of harsh reviews. Your chapters 3 & 4 reviews kinda confused me though. What about characters writing themselves and having problems? What about character's ages and going back to the books? Oh, p.s., this story is taking place in present time. It may be a couple days for chapter 7, but I promise, it will be really good, and I had a lot of fun typing it, since it mentions some pretty awesome old cars, and I am an old car freak, like my dad. He works at an auto body shop, much like someone who will be introduced next chapter! (this chapter, now)

Lillie's quote of the Day 8/24/05: Topic: Acquirements

"That which we acquire with the most difficulty we retain the longest; as those who have earned a fortune are usually more careful of it than those who have inherited one."

-Colton

And for my quote of the day 8/27/05, here it is.

Lillie's quote of the day 8/27/05: Topic: None really. This is a quote from a song by Montgomery Gentry, called "Scarecrow" from the cd "My Town"

"One of these days, I'm gonna run, I'm gonna leave these hills behind to find what's over the horizon, one of these days, I'm gonna go, when you look at me, you're not gonna see a scarecrow"

Well, g2g. ttyl. i wuz here. Love Ya Lots, Bye