Disclaimer: I don't own Nancy, Frank and Joe. (Sadly…) But I own Christensen Handel, the weird Mr. Man in the hotel, Villagers' Welcome Inn, Daily Messenger newspaper and Sally's Soup Shop.
CHAPTER 4
He clutched the glass tightly and threw it at the wall. The glass plummeted to the wall and smashed into bits. He lifted the newspaper from the bureau and tore out the article. He separated a picture of Nancy and Christensen from the paragraph. Carefully, he smoothened out the crumpled paper and laid it on the bed. He lighted a cigarette with shaking hands and stared at the picture once again. He lifted it and burnt it with his lighter. He broke out into fit of a devilish laugh. Revenge is mine…
The following day, Frank and Joe went to Sally's Soup Shop for breakfast and to meet up with Nancy. Frank and Joe arrived 10 minutes earlier and took a seat at a secluded corner of the shop.
"Cool place," said Joe, looking around the 1950's-themed shop.
Frank nodded in agreement, leaning back on the beige leather seat. He looked up at the paintings and interesting pieces of furniture. "Definitely not a place you'd see in Bayport."
The wind chimes above the door tinkled softly as the shop door opened. The two brothers looked up spontaneously. In came Nancy dressed in a black T-shirt and white trousers. She scanned the little shop for the duo. At the corner of the shop, she saw Frank waving his hand to attract her attention. She smiled and walked over to where they were.
"Hey, guys," greeted Nancy cheerfully as she took a seat next to Frank.
"Hey," chorused Frank and Joe.
"You want anything?" Joe asked Nancy, "I'll get it for you."
"It's okay," said Nancy, rising from her seat, "I'll get it myself."
"No, no."
"Well, since you're so eager," said Nancy, laughing, "You can help me get my food."
"What'll it be?"
"Hmm…" said Nancy, scanning her menu. She told Joe her order and he departed from the table. He queued up at the long line at the self-service counter. "Little bro's really desperate, huh?"
"Yeah…desperate," said Frank lazily. "So, how's life up here, away from mysteries?"
"Oh, you'd really enjoy this, Frank," said Nancy, "Relaxing."
"Where's Ned?" asked Frank, curious. He saw her face darken as he spoke of her boyfriend.
"He's... umm… in Emerson," she said, not daring to look directly at Frank.
Frank reached out and touched her on her chin, lifting her head up. She looked terribly sad. "Is everything alright, Nan?"
"It's just…it's just…," she fumbled for words, "Could we talk about this later when Joe's not here, Frank?"
Frank looked at her sympathetically. "Sure, my time's yours."
Joe returned with a tray of food for the three of them. He laid the three bowls of soup, a cup of tea and two cups of coffee on the table and sat down. They ate slowly, savouring every bite while chatting merrily. When they finished, they sat back and enjoyed their cup of coffee – and tea.
Suddenly, Nancy remembered about what Christensen had said the night before.
"Nah, he's probably tired after chasing that crook," said Christensen waving his hand.
"Crook? What crook?" she asked.
"Some man with black hair and huge sunglasses," he answered nonchalantly.
Snapping out of her reverie, she turned to Joe and asked, "Joe, what did Chris mean yesterday when he said something about you chasing a crook?"
Joe leaned in front and cleared his throat. "Oh, that…that guy was just an irresponsible cyclist who was speeding." He laughed nervously.
Nancy laughed together. "That's what a little over-imaginative boy calls a crook."
Frank eyed his brother suspiciously. Joe looked rather uncomfortable when Nancy asked about the 'crook'. He turned to Frank and when he saw Frank's questioning look, he immediately turned away. Hmm… what's going on?
After a filling breakfast and a visit to the hospital, Frank and Joe headed back to the Villager's Welcome Inn. Joe dived onto his queen-sized bed and took out a car magazine from his back-pack. He flipped it opened and browsed through it, humming a tune.
"Joe," said Frank.
"Hmm?" mumbled Joe without looking up.
"Joe, look at me," he said firmly.
Joe got up and sat crossed-legged on the bed. "What is it, Frank?"
Frank noticed that Joe was fingering the bed sheet – something he does when he is nervous since he was a kid. Both brothers were so attached that they could not keep secrets from one another. Frank crossed his arms and stared at Joe sternly. Joe tried to break off eye contact.
"Joe, I know something fishy's going on," said Frank.
Joe shifted his legs uncomfortably. "What do you mean, Frank?"
"What do I mean?" said Frank, incredulously. "You were hiding something from Nancy and I back there at Sally's. What actually happened?"
Joe sighed. He raised up his hands in defeat. "Okay, okay, you win, bro. Promise you won't tell Nan?"
"Promise."
"The person who hit Chris is someone we know," said Joe.
"We know?" questioned Frank, shocked. "I mean who would try to hurt Chris?"
"Slow down," said Joe, "The person is…" He paused.
"Who?" asked Frank, impatiently.
"Ned Nickerson."