Chapter 11: Adrenaline

At least it isn't raining.

That was the only optimistic thought Nancy could muster. She gulped in another lungful of crisp November air and forced herself to keep moving, legs pumping steadily, eyes locked on the two sets of running shoes pounding away just a few yards ahead of her.

"One more mile, guys!" Frank yelled out happily, picking up speed as he rounded the corner onto the next street. Joe, not going to be outdone even if it killed him, stuck by his brother's side like an extra shadow.

"Doing all right, Nan?" Frank asked, letting himself drop back to her position for a moment. "I know you just got your stitches out."

"From my hand, not my feet," Nancy panted. "I'm fine."

"Okay," Frank said, and accelerated back to the front with Joe. Nancy let them go. Unlike Joe, she felt no compulsion to keep pace with Frank. All she cared about was keeping her feet moving and her breathing even. It had been awhile since she had pushed herself like this. It felt...well, it felt terrible, but it felt good, too.

All things come to an end, even the last mile of a tough run. Before long Nancy was sinking gratefully into the armchair in the Hardys' living room.

"Good run?" Callie asked brightly. She dropped a slice of bread into the toaster and turned to kiss Frank as he passed through the kitchen.

"Great run," he said, brushing her hair back from her face. "But I think if it had been any longer I'd have been carrying these two back home. I'm going to go grab a shower." And he disappeared into his bedroom, whistling cheerfully.

"I always think I'm in good shape until I work out with him," Joe said, dropping wearily into a seat at the table.

"You guys should come for a run with me, next time," Callie told him. "I probably won't run you into the ground."

Joe waved a hand at her without lifting his head off the table. "Hey. I can keep up with Frank. And should you be doing that?"

"What, having toast?"

"No, running."

"Oh, good grief." Callie dropped her toast on her plate. "I'm not sick, Joe. I mean, I might be after I eat this. But in general, it's fine for me to continue my normal activities."

"But you're...you're incubating. Won't you jostle the-"

Whatever Joe was trying to say was drowned out in laughter from Callie and Nancy. Nancy sat up and looked at him.

"You're adorable, but you don't know much about pregnancy."

"I've never been pregnant!" Joe protested. He picked up his head and stood up, stretching. "Okay, I'm alive again. Does anybody want some eggs?"

Nancy stood up too. "Yes, please."

"Does anyone who has not been making fun of me in the past five minutes want some eggs?" Joe said.

"Put on your big boy underpants and make your girlfriend some eggs," Callie teased, taking her toast to the table.

"Ooh, you have jam on it today. Feeling better?" Nancy asked. She had shed her hat and jacket and was headed to the refrigerator for the carton of strawberries she had bought.

"For the moment," Callie said.

"Excuse me," Joe said, bumping Nancy lightly with his hip and reaching past her for the eggs. Nancy bumped him back.

"I was here first, buddy."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't see you down there."

"Wait your turn!"

"Make me!"

Frank walked back in, his hair damp and curly from the shower. "Both of you guys, get out of the fridge," he said.

"He started it," Nancy said, escaping with her strawberries to the kitchen island. Joe stuck his tongue out at her behind Frank's back.

"Would you care for some eggs, Francis?" he asked in an exaggeratedly courteous tone.

"No, thanks, Joseph." Frank had extracted the blender from a cabinet and was getting out the ingredients for his usual morning smoothie. He set everything down on the counter and then went over to the table to give Callie another kiss.

"You look beautiful this morning," he told her.

"Thanks," she said, smiling up at him.

"That's enough of that," Joe warned, pointing his spatula at them. "I don't want you killing my appetite."

"Like that's even possible," Frank scoffed, returning to his smoothie assembly.

"What do you mean by that?" Joe asked.

"You're getting soft, little brother."

"I kept pace with you the entire time," Joe retorted.

"Be nice, Frank. The poor guy has homework to do on top of working crazy hours," Callie said staunchly. "I'd let exercise slip a little too."

"Seriously! I'm not letting anything slip!" Joe yelled over the whir of the blender.

"I am," Nancy confessed. "I'm thinking of signing up for one of George's classes to get myself back in shape after we wrap up this case. That run was way harder than it should have been."

"Are you getting close to solving it?" Callie asked, reaching for her glass of juice.

"Well, no," Nancy said ruefully.

"It's kind of a frustrating case," Joe added. "No action. We spent most of last night combing through the roommate's forum posts. Which was exactly as thrilling as it sounds."

"Did you turn up anything useful?" Callie asked sensibly.

"Maybe," Nancy said thoughtfully. "We certainly gained some insight into his personality and his relationship with Brendan."

"Either he's a really innocent, naive kid, or he was playing dumb to set Brendan up for something," Joe said. "He talked a lot, to a lot of different people. He asked for price estimates. He has his profile set to public, with his town and name and everything right there. And he gave away a ton of information about Brendan."

"Is there any one user he interacts with more than the others?" Frank asked, rinsing his smoothie glass.

"We made a list of his top five," Nancy told him. "Callie, we did find out that the treasure Brendan found was a set of paintings inside an ammo box."

Callie looked interested. "Miniatures?"

"We have no idea. They were stolen before Brendan showed them to anyone."

"Oh, that's too bad. He didn't tell anyone what the paintings depicted?"

"Nothing," Joe said, setting a plate of eggs in front of Nancy and joining the girls at the table. "Are miniatures usually valuable?"

"Well, it depends," Callie said thoughtfully.

"On the artist?" Nancy guessed.

"The artist, and the subject, and the time period," Callie said, nodding.

"We don't even know that they're miniatures," Joe told her.

"Whatever they are, we do know that the first Diarmid Connolly considered them valuable enough to support his wife and children in the event of his death," Nancy said.

"I'd love to see them when you find them," Callie said.

"We'll come to you for the appraisal," Joe said.

Frank sat down next to Callie and stole a strawberry off Nancy's plate. "What's everybody up to today?"

"Slogging around doing research," Nancy said.

"Yup," Joe agreed.

"I'm going to an estate sale this morning to look over some portraits for a client," Callie said, looking pleased at the prospect. "And I'm meeting George and Myra for lunch. You should come, Nan."

"That sounds great. I'll be there."

Callie finished her juice and stood up. "Okay, you beautiful people. I've got to get to work."

"I'll take care of your dishes," Frank said, walking her to the door. Callie pulled on her coat and scarf and leaned in to kiss Frank goodbye- a very deep, thorough, satisfied kiss. When it was over Frank held her for a moment more, his face relaxed and smiling.

"Sure you can't stay home today?"

Callie shook her head. "I know you. You've already got your day planned out. I'll just ruin that if I stay home now." She kissed him again. "Enjoy your day off. I'll be home after lunch."

"I love you. Drive safe."

"Love you, too. Bye, guys."

Nancy smiled at Frank as he returned to the kitchen. "Callie looks so much better today. Whatever you did last night, keep it up."

Frank blushed. "I'm sorry, guys. We didn't mean to monopolize the apartment."

"Now, see, here's where I could give you a lot of crap for acting that way after complaining about dealing with me and Nancy," Joe said, grinning. "But I'm gonna be the bigger man and not say any of that."

"Gee," Frank said sarcastically. "Thanks, Joe."

"I'm just glad you two had a nice night together," Nancy said. "You both look much more relaxed."

"We did a lot of talking," Frank said. "Shut up, Joe! We did talk!"

"Did I say anything?"

"You didn't have to!" Frank looked back at Nancy. "I'm so happy about this baby. I can't even describe to you guys how...well, happy...I am." He sort of laughed at himself and his inability to find words big enough to explain how he was feeling. "But at the same time, it kind of hits you really hard, getting news like that. It changes the entire world."

"I can imagine," Nancy said softly. "Callie seems so overwhelmed."

A shadow passed over Frank's face. "Yeah."

"We're here for you," Joe said, in complete earnest now. "Even after you move out. If you need to talk, or if you need a sitter, or if you need someone to come mow your lawn, or-"

Frank cut him off. "Thanks, Joe," he said, putting an arm around his little brother's shoulders. "You know I'm going to take you up on that lawn-mowing offer."

"That offer is only good until the little guy starts kindergarten. By then you should have a pretty good grasp of the parenting thing."

Frank laughed. "I certainly hope so."

"So what are you doing with your day off?" Nancy asked.

"Oh, I thought I'd head to the marina and do some tinkering on the Sleuth," Frank said. "Don't look so guilty, Joe. You don't need to help out. You did most of the work winterizing her. I just need some project time right now."

"Okay. I get that."

After Frank had gone the apartment seemed suddenly much bigger and quieter. Nancy sipped her coffee and looked around, feeling suddenly very serious.

This is how it's always going to be, pretty soon. Just me and Joe. Just her and Joe, cooking meals and talking and working and folding laundry- as many days as she stayed over, anyway. And these days she was here more than she was home.

Me, Joe, Frank, Callie...we've been like a group of kids playing house, she thought, feeling the weight of the idea pressing on her for the first time. And without them here, it's going to feel so much more... domestic. Ordinary. What are we doing?

"So, you want to take a George class?" Joe asked, snapping her out of her brown study.

"Yeah, I do. I could use a refresher course, and it'll definitely help me get back in the habit of pushing myself. I didn't realize how bad I was until I tried to keep up with you guys this morning."

"You really weren't that bad, Nan. You were right there behind us the whole time."

"Right there behind you, gasping like a stranded trout," Nancy retorted. "Face it. I'm really out of shape."

"I love your shape."

Nancy rolled her eyes at him. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah, yeah. Which class are you going to take? Self defense or judo?"

"I'm not sure yet. It's been awhile since I did any martial arts." Nancy got up and took their dishes to the sink.

"Do you still have the moves, Drew?" Joe struck a pose. Nancy countered it.

"I still have the moves, Hardy."

"Prove it."

For a few minutes there was no conversation, just the sounds of scuffling and footfalls. Joe was stronger, but Nancy was faster. They were pretty evenly matched, for a little while. Then Nancy's scarred hand stopped cooperating and she resorted to tackling Joe and clinging onto his back.

"I'm not sure George teaches her students this!" Joe protested, trying to shake her off.

"She teaches resourcefulness," Nancy countered, holding on tighter. Joe gave up and walked off toward his bedroom, carrying her along with him.

"Joseph!"

"What?"

She leaned forward over his shoulder to bite his ear. "You're supposed to surrender. Stop walking away!"

"Why should I surrender? I've just taken you prisoner!" he said, laughing.

"Joe!" Nancy tried to slide off his back, then; but he was holding on to her forearms and she could not unclasp them or get down.

"Though she is little, she is not as fierce as she thinketh," he misquoted, marching into his bathroom and lifting her down onto the bath mat.

"Shakespeare would not approve."

"I beg to differ. That guy had a pretty dirty imagination." Joe's hands were busy tugging her t-shirt up over her head. He tossed it in the general direction of his bedroom and stepped forward to kiss her, those big hands settling at her waist, warm against her bare skin. Nancy stepped forward too, leaning into his embrace. They broke apart breathless and a little dizzy with the strength of the kiss.

"Wow," Nancy murmured.

"Yeah," Joe said. He tipped her face up and kissed her again. "I think I might surrender, after all."

"We'll call it a tie."

"I'm the luckiest guy," Joe said, cupping her cheek. "You're so much fun, Nan."

Nancy slid her hands up under his t-shirt, coaxing him to pull it off. "I love this life," she said. "And you. I love you. Now let's get a shower before Frank and Callie get back."

"Best idea you've had all day," Joe said, tossing his pants toward the rest of their clothing. Nancy reached in to start the water and they got into the shower, stepping together again like a pair of magnets for another long kiss.

Nancy sighed happily as they broke apart. "This is nice," she said, turning her face up to the stream of hot water. "If we ever split up, I want custody of your water heater."

"I'll have my lawyer make a note of that." Joe reached for the shampoo and started washing Nancy's hair.

"That feels good," she told him, closing her eyes.

"Did I put in enough shampoo?"

"I didn't see, but I'm sure it's fine." She was quiet for a few moments, enjoying the attention.

"Thanksgiving is next week," she said finally. "What are our plans?"

Joe finished rinsing her hair and reached for her conditioner. "Well, you're invited to our family thing."

"You're invited to ours, too. What time is yours?"

"Lunchtime-ish."

"Perfect. Ours is an evening thing."

She could hear the smile in Joe's voice. "So we hit both and get double the pie. I'm not seeing any downside here."

"The downside is that I'm going to have to go out on Black Friday for an entirely new wardrobe. We have too many good cooks in our families."

Joe traded places with her and reached for his own shampoo. "Speaking of which, are Bess and Tom having their usual post-Thanksgiving thing? Or will they still be in Hawaii?"

"No, they'll be back before Thanksgiving. I'll check with her again, but I think we're still on for Saturday afternoon."

"Good. I was prepared to fly out to Hawaii myself and demand some of her cranberry sauce."

Nancy raised an eyebrow at him. "Really? Out of her entire repertoire, you'd demand the cranberry sauce?"

Joe shrugged. "You taste that and you know it's Thanksgiving," he explained. "It's not something you eat any other time of the year."

"That's true." Nancy ducked under the spray to rinse the conditioner out of her hair. "Don't book a flight, though. She'll be back. Bess lives for events like that. She gets to cook, she gets to socialize, she gets to agonize over her outfit for months ahead of time...she adores everything about it."

Joe had already stepped out of the shower. Nancy shut off the water and reached for her own towel. Part of her was a little disappointed that their earlier playfulness had not progressed to intimacy, but part of her was relieved. She was eager to get dressed and get to work.

"We decided to split up again today, right?" Joe called from the bedroom. Nancy hung up her towel and walked out of the bathroom.

"We did. You're going to talk to some police contacts about DNA evidence at the crime scene and try to get a straight answer out of The Douche. I'm going to talk to Faith and try to see Brendan's apartment again, then swing by home to grab my computer." She pulled a clean set of underclothes out of her overnight bag and slid them on.

"You know you can have a dresser drawer for that stuff," Joe said, frowning. "I've offered a thousand times."

"I know, Joe. It just seems a little invasive."

"Nan. You have stuff all over this apartment. One drawer isn't going to make me cry." He studied her for a moment. "Is it the commitment thing?"

"I don't want to push things."

"It's a drawer, not a signed contract. I already emptied it for you."

"Fine. I'll put things in it next time I'm here." Nancy set down her bag and went back to the bathroom to dry her hair, glad for the excuse to walk away from him. Their casual arrangement seemed to have been pushed all off balance lately: Joe's repeated offer of storage space was a confusing contradiction to their mutual decision to take things lightly. It was too much like moving in, too significant to pretend it didn't matter.

By the time her hair was dry she was feeling calmer. Joe, fully dressed now in jeans and a brown henley, came in to lean on the counter and watch her do her makeup.

He's being a little clingy today, Nancy thought, her confusion bubbling up again. Aloud, she said, "Want me to do yours next?"

"No, I doubt that'd be a good look for me. How did you learn to do that?"

"From Bess, mostly. And practice. Why the sudden interest? You must have seen girls do this a million times." She made her voice very light, deliberately not saying You must have watched Iola do this, countless mornings.

Joe looked at her, cocking his head a little. He knew exactly what she meant. "Not really," he said, speaking as carefully as she had. "I've never lived with a girl before."

"You've dated a few girls," Nancy said, looking through her makeup bag for her mascara to keep from having to look at him.

"I never slept with Iola, Nan. I thought you knew that. You were friends with her."

"She was pretty private about your relationship," Nancy said, trying to hide her surprise. "She wasn't like Bess, who had no problem giving us a play-by-play of every date she ever went on."

"Well, we didn't," Joe said.

"So Vanessa was your first?"

Joe winced. "Yeah."

"As much makeup as she wore, I'm surprised you're not an expert," Nancy said; and for a moment her own cattiness made her bite her tongue. But then Joe laughed, and she relaxed, and she finished applying her mascara.

"Why were you so surprised?" Joe asked, handing Nancy her stockings.

"Oh...well, you had a reputation," she said vaguely. She sat down on his bed to put them on. Joe knelt, suddenly, and began deftly and gently rolling the sheer material up Nancy's leg. He looked up at her, his face so serious it made her heart flutter.

"A reputation?"

"You're a flirt," she told him. "And a lot of girls claimed they'd slept with you. We all assumed you and Iola had consummated things."

"I wanted to, but she wasn't ready," Joe said, shrugging. "And everybody else was lying. Flirting is one thing, but I don't sleep with anyone unless it means something." He kissed her knee and drew the second stocking up over it.

"You slept with me, the first night we re-connected," Nancy said shakily, watching him clip the stockings to her garter belt.

"It meant something," Joe said, reaching for the dress she had laid out before their run. Nancy stepped into it and let him zip her up the back.

He's not being clingy. He's being absolutely adoring, she thought miserably. What was he thinking? What was prompting this? He was always a great boyfriend, but this was an unprecedented level of attentiveness. It did not mesh with their declaration of unreadiness for marriage, and it was confusing.

"Good luck today," he said gently, kissing her.

"You, too. I still hate splitting up," Nancy said, refocusing on the case.

"We'll compare notes as soon as we can. And I promise I'll text you if I find out anything especially good."

"Likewise," Nancy promised, feeling a little better. After all, they could cover much more territory separately than together. And perhaps spending the morning away from him would help her get some perspective on her sudden confusion about their relationship.

*****************************************************************

Faith was on the third floor of the campus library, shelving a stack of mystery novels. She set them down as Nancy approached.

"Everything gets resolved so neatly in these things," the girl said, tapping the lurid cover of the uppermost book.

"I'm sorry, Faith. We're doing the best we can."

The girl blushed. "I didn't mean it as a criticism of your work. I'm sorry." She picked up her stack and gestured for Nancy to follow her along the shelf as she worked. "Joe stopped by and filled me in on your progress yesterday. Has there been a new development?"

"Nothing major," Nancy said. "Actually, I was wondering if you could let me in to see your brother's apartment again. Something has been bothering me about the place."

"I work until 5 today, but I can lend you my key. What do you expect to find?"

"I'm not sure, but I need to take a look at it."

*************************************************

Faith had assured her that Keith was in class at this hour, and this time he really was. Nancy stood very still in the middle of the apartment, eyes closed, thinking as hard as she could think. Visualize what you saw the first time you walked in. It's right there, right on the tip of my tongue. What was it?

The problem had been Allie. Nancy's building jealousy had thrown off her concentration during that first visit. Try as she might, Nancy couldn't pin down the source of her puzzlement. She had tried retracing her steps. Visualizing the apartment was not helping either. Nancy rubbed a hand across her eyes and sighed. She had one more trick up her sleeve, and it was not something that came easy to her. Nancy closed her eyes again and made her mind a complete blank: not trying to remember, not trying to think, simply focusing on her own breathing.

"Papers," she said suddenly, and she opened her eyes. "There were a few papers with Brendan's handwriting on them on the kitchen counter when we got here, and by the time I was done investigating his bedroom they were gone. That's what's been bothering me! But what did they say, and which one of us moved them?" It hadn't been Joe; he would have said something to her. That left Faith, Diarmid, Allie, or Keith. One of those four had something to hide.

"And that's assuming the papers were even relevant to the case," Nancy murmured. "It could have been an old homework assignment, or a grocery list." She rubbed her eyes again, feeling a headache coming on. She texted her epiphany to Joe in case it was something he could use in his interview with Diarmid and Allie that morning, slipped the key under Faith's apartment door, and headed for home.