Disclaimer: I don't own Nancy Drew, the Hardy Boys, or the characters associated with them.

Author's notes: Thank you reviewers. I really appreciate all of the feedback and constructive criticism you're giving me. I am also glad that aside from enjoying the story, you are enjoying the chapter titles.

She Starts Out Cute, and That's How She Tricks Them Into Being Her Enemy

Frank lifted his head after a few seconds. He could see that most of the beach-goers had complied, and that the shooter in the trees was gone. Joe was also on the ground, looking around alertly, but when his eyes met Frank's he shot him a confused look. Frank sent him a look saying that he would explain later, then continued to look around, checking for anything else that might be out of place.

"Frank?" Nancy spoke quietly. "Not that I don't love having the breath crushed out of me or anything, but what are you doing?"

"Oh…" Frank removed himself so he was off Nancy and the towel, feeling a blush rise to his cheeks. "There was a guy, shooting at us."

Nancy rolled over so she was lying on her back and raised an eyebrow at him. "Shooting at us? Hardy, you've only been out here in the sun for ten minutes. You couldn't possibly have gone nuts already."

Frank backed away a bit more, and knelt down, sifting through the sand with his fingers until he came in contact with exactly what he was looking for. He held it out to Nancy and the sun glinted off the spent bullet.

Nancy sat up, and took the bullet from him, rolling it in her fingers to examine it. "There was a guy shooting at us." She repeated the previous statement, a bit more subdued in the realization of the situation. Her mouth was open to speak again, but Joe was jogging up.

"What's going on?" He asked, stopping behind his brother. "I heard some crazy guy shouting for us to hit the deck."

"There was a guy shooting at us." Nancy repeated again, standing, and then showing him the bullet.

"Really? I didn't notice anything." Joe informed as his brother stood. The three detectives formed a sort of triangle, as they often did when they needed to discuss things. He took the bullet from Nancy and started to look at it.

Nancy crossed her arms over her chest. "Neither did I. First thing that I noticed was Frank jumping on top of me."

Joe shot a glance between the two for a moment, but that train of thought ceased quickly. "Are you guys OK?"

"We're fine." Frank nodded. "You?"

"Yeah."

"Good." Frank glanced around the beach, seeing people starting to go back to their activities, confused, but not in the least bit shaken up about what they had no idea had occurred. "Maybe we should figure out what's going on then."

No one said anything, as though they didn't know where to start. All three glanced around, looking at their surroundings, each other and their feet, depending on the particular moment. Finally, Joe's gaze landed on Frank and remained there. After a moment, Nancy's eyes followed suit.

Frank looked between the two of them suspiciously. "What? Are you guys waiting for me to take the lead on this or something?"

"Well you are the oldest." Joe informed.

"And you are the only one of us who saw anything." Nancy added. "Where was this guy?"

Frank pointed to the palm trees. "Right over there. He was standing behind the trunk of one of those."

Joe nodded in comprehension. "And you two were here, and Frank was basically on top of you Nancy--."

"He was massaging my back." Nancy cut Joe off, uncrossing her arms. "What does that have to do with any of this?"

"I'm setting the scene. It'll help if we know who he was shooting at out of us. If he was even shooting at any of us at all." Joe smiled a little, in a sort of triumphant manner. He got to drag their behavior into the case. And this was only the first day.

Frank sighed. "Well he wasn't shooting at me. I was sitting up, an easy target. And that gun looked like it had some sort of a scope."

"Same with me. And most of the people on the beach." Joe agreed. "We were moving, but we were also all up. This guy would have been able to hit any of us. Even without a scope. Those trees are only, what, a hundred feet away?"

"Well then who was he shooting at?" Nancy questioned. She didn't see anybody on the beach that looked like a possible target, which very well could have meant nothing. Neither brother answered her, but they shared a look, and then started to look at her. And she knew what that meant. "You're not serious…Guys, I was lying on the ground. It would have been near impossible for them to hit me."

"She has a point." Joe crossed his arms, using one hand to point at Nancy, while looking over at Frank.

"You did have someone in your closet earlier. And we don't know what they wanted." Frank pointed out in a quick rebuttal.

Joe switched who he was looking at and pointing to. "He has a point."

Nancy shot him a warning look out of annoyance. "I told you. It looked like it was just some kid…" She trailed off in uncertainty. "Besides if I was the target, he would have waited for a better shot."

Joe went back into serious mode. "This is a pretty crowded area. Any shooter doesn't exactly have time to sit around and wait for the perfect shot. They would look too suspicious, just standing in the shadows with a gun."

Frank clearly agreed. "I'm gonna go call the police. They should get down here and the evidence, and our statements."

"What evidence?" Nancy asked a little rhetorically. "One bullet that has our prints all over it. And you're the only one that has a statement to begin with. No one else on this beach even knows anything happened. If I didn't know you, I wouldn't know anything happened." She paused. "You know the cops, they aren't gonna take this seriously at all."

"If somebody shot at you and you have proof they have to take it seriously. We can show them this stuff Nan." Frank countered.

"And they'll tell you that that thing has probably been in the sand for years, and that you've seen too many action movies." Nancy retorted. "We don't have anything to go to the police with. There wouldn't be any point."

For a moment there was a silence. Nancy was waiting for a response. Joe was choosing not to get involved in this battle, and Frank was having an internal battle about what action he would take. Finally he sighed. "Fine. We won't call them."

They stood in another silence, all three turning to look at a sun that was barely starting to set. The silence was interrupted by Joe's stomach growling. "Are we done having near-death experiences and investigating for now?" Neither of his companions answered him. "If so, may I suggest that we go and get for a dinner at this club that I researched before we came. The food is supposed to be amazing and the entertainment is supposed to be pretty good."

"Sure Joe." Frank nodded his gaze not relaxing very much. "Let's go."

"So why do you think Nancy was so against the police getting involved?" Joe asked Frank, as they stood on the front porch of Nancy's bungalow, waiting for her to finish getting ready.

"You've got me." Frank shrugged, bending over and leaning against the railing, looking out towards the beach.

Joe nodded, he himself leaning against the wall. "She did have some pretty valid points though. The police would have said exactly what she said to us. And then when they turned to leave they would have laughed a lot."

"Which doesn't change the fact that they at least would have been aware of the situation if we had called them…no matter how fictional they thought it was."

"Well as I recall you were arguing the same points about the man in the closet. The general consensus between the two of you is that the police getting involved would be a bad idea. Although if you think about it isn't really a consensus because you had the thoughts at completely different times…" Joe trailed off a little. "Does that still constitute a consensus?"

"I don't know." Frank turned his head so he was staring his brother in the face. "If your brother is talking so much that it's really, really annoying you, and your fist slips and knocks him unconscious does that still constitute assault?"

Joe sighed. "OK, so we're not in a talkative mood." He waited for a few seconds before speaking again. "So do you think that guy really was shooting at Nancy?"

"It makes the most sense. She has a few people that probably want to see her dead."

"A few."

"Well, more than a few…"

"Because enemies accumulate. And she tends to lure people into becoming her enemy. Yeah, I guess they might have been shooting at her."

Frank turned his head back to the beach. "You're mocking me."

"Extensively." The conversation ended as the door opened, and Nancy stepped out. Both brothers turned too see that she had changed into a jean skirt, and a gauzy white flowing halter top, that gave her a mix of casualty and formalness. Joe let out a low whistle. "Why Miss Drew, don't you clean up nice?"

The three detectives entered the club-like restaurant that they had walked to from the hotel. The actual restaurant was crowded, but the entry way, was empty aside from the host, who looked more like he should be residing behind the bar in his jeans and t-shirt. He watched them as they came up and spoke before they could. "Well, if it isn't Nancy Drew. 5 feet, seven inches tall, 128 pounds. Age 18. Birth date May 13th 1988. Occupation private detective. Father Carson Drew, lawyer. Mother Lauren Drew, deceased." He smirked a little at their suspicious and surprised looks.

"How do you know all of that?" Nancy was the one to ask, in a hushed voice.

He gave her a pointed look. "Well that's the information that's being passed around to the seedy underbelly of island. Along with the offer of one hundred thousand dollars to the person who kills you."

Nancy shrank back a bit to the point that she collided into Joe, who easily stepped aside and made room for her in between the brothers, and then stepped with one foot in front of her, in a protective manner.

Frank looked over. "Can we call the police now?"

Joe also aimed a look in her direction. "I might listen to him this time. I'd say there are a few people out there to get you."