Chapter 12: Warning
The sound of the vacuum greeted Nancy as she opened the door of the Drew residence. When she poked her head into the living room to blow Hannah a kiss, Hannah merely waved hello without her usual beaming smile and resumed vacuuming furiously.
"That's peculiar," Nancy said aloud. She hesitated, wondering if she should interrupt Hannah's chore to ask what was wrong, but decided against it. Instead she resumed her original course: to the kitchen, first, for a glass of water, and then upstairs to grab her laptop. She spent a few minutes in her room, putting away some laundry and grabbing a few sets of clean clothes to take with her. When the vacuum cleaner went silent she returned to the living room, led by equal parts curiousity and compassion.
Hannah was winding up the vacuum cord. The thunderclouds on her face had not abated any. "Hi, Nancy," she said.
"Hi, yourself. What's wrong?" Nancy asked sympathetically. She set her laptop on the end table and curled up in her usual spot on the couch.
"Oh, nothing dreadful," Hannah said. "I'm just letting myself have a bit of a sulk."
"One of those days?"
"Oh, you name it. My bread didn't rise, I broke a plate, the vacuum hose was all clogged up, my friend Sheila cancelled our lunch date because she twisted her ankle... None of it is going to make the world jump off its axis, but I'm frustrated."
"I'm sorry, Hannah. I hope your day gets better."
"It already has," the housekeeper said. "You're here. Would you like a cup of tea?"
"Tea sounds lovely."
"Back in a moment, then." Hannah withdrew. Nancy booted up her computer and began her first task: using the account she and Joe had created to compose a message to gargoylegrinning via the forum's private messaging feature.
"Here you go." Hannah set a mug of tea and a freshly-baked scone on the end table next to Nancy. She sat down in her own usual chair with her own refreshments, sighing a very long sigh.
"Thank you, Hannah," Nancy said gratefully, reaching for the scone. She took a bite and smiled. "If it cheers you up any, this scone is delicious."
"Thank you, dear. That does help." Hannah took a careful sip of her hot tea. "Are you working on your case?"
"I am. I've just sent a message to a possible suspect, and now I'm trying to do some geneological research to see whether I can verify a Connolly family rumor. They claim their ancestor faked his own death and started a new family in Hawaii after the war."
"That's certainly nothing to be proud of!" Hannah exclaimed.
"No, it's not."
Hannah reached for her knitting. "Don't mind me, dear. I won't keep you from your work."
For some time there was silence, broken only by the tapping of Nancy's computer keys. So absorbed were they in their separate tasks that when Nancy's phone chimed, both women jumped.
"Sorry!" Nancy said, pulling the phone out of her pocket. The screen showed a text from Bess.
Nancy Drew, you're a bad influence on me.
What did you do? Nancy sent back.
A little snooping. That's all. I saw this being delivered when we came down for brunch today. A photo popped up: a package sitting on someone's desk, with a River Heights postmark clearly visible.
I checked out the return address, Bess added. You owe me big time. I was late for my manicure.
You're a peach, Bess. You're an angel. What about the address?
It's a PO box registered to...get this. Sandy Beaches. Totally fake, right?
Damn right. Thanks, Bessie. This is gold.
Nancy forwarded the information quickly to Joe. She could still catch him before he spoke with Allie and Diarmid. It was a long shot that they had anything to do with this- but knowledge is power, after all. It certainly couldn't hurt.
"Good news?" Hannah asked, watching Nancy's face.
"Sort of. I think Bess just verified my Hawaii connection for me," Nancy said, closing her laptop. Her mind was whirling. Someone here in River Heights was in contact with someone back in Hawaii. She couldn't help but think of Allie. Hawaiian last names did not exactly abound in River Heights. But all she had against Allie was the girl's repellent attitude and one afternoon of very determined flirtation with Joe. Keith came to mind again; talkative, unguarded, materialistic Keith. Could he have struck a bargain with the other half of the Connolly family and sacrificed his friend? Nancy sighed. She hoped Joe got some new information on his errands today.
"Nancy," Hannah said suddenly, "I'm sorry to interrupt, but have you spoken to your father recently?"
Nancy looked at her, a bit perplexed at the abrupt change of topic. "Yes, I had lunch with Dad yesterday."
"Did you have a good talk with him?" Hannah asked. She had never been very good at dropping hints. Nancy knew what was coming.
"He told me he plans to propose to Camille."
"That's big news," Hannah said, still beating around the bush.
Nancy nodded. "Big news," she said softly.
"Yes, things are certainly changing around here," Hannah said meaningfully.
Nancy was starting to feel uneasy. "It's just an engagement," she said, trying to keep her tone light. "Things shouldn't change too drastically. Unless- is she moving in here?"
"Nancy," Hannah said, reaching for the younger woman's hand, "I've given my two-months notice."
"Hannah, no!"
"Hear me out, sweetheart. I've already talked this over with your father and Camille. They asked me to stay on."
"Good!" Nancy exclaimed.
"And I said no," Hannah continued.
"Why?"
"It's time," Hannah said simply. "Carson and Camille are more than capable of managing the house for themselves. I'll still come in a few hours a week to do some basic cleaning and food preparation. But it's a new era, sweetie. You're grown and all but moved out, and they're going to be newlyweds. It's time for me to move on. I'd like to focus on volunteering and serving the community." She held up a hand, stopping Nancy from interjecting. "Truth be told, I'm very excited about this. I've put away a comfortable amount over the years and I just put a down payment on the prettiest little house, with a little rose garden. It's within walking distance of the library..." Hannah trailed off. "Nancy. Don't look so sad."
"I'm sorry, Hannah. You look so happy. But it's not going to feel like home without you," Nancy said, ashamed of herself for sounding like a whiny child. Hannah squeezed her hand gently.
"Oh, honey, I'm not going far. I promise I'm going to be as much a part of your life as I ever was. Do you think a little thing like a change of address could make me love you less?"
"Of course not," Nancy said.
"There was another thing Carson said he was going to talk to you about," Hannah said gravely.
"The ring?"
"Yes. Did he give it to you?"
"He did."
"You don't look as happy as I thought you might."
Nancy sighed and stirred her tea, watching the amber liquid swirl in the cup. "Hannah, I think I made a mistake." The housekeeper waited, saying nothing, letting Nancy gather her own thoughts.
"Joe's mom gave him a ring recently, too. Everyone seems to be expecting us to get engaged soon."
"Everyone except you?" Hannah asked.
"We talked about it, and we agreed we're not ready," Nancy said. "But, Hannah, as soon as I said it I regretted it. I feel like we just pushed ourselves back a step when we should have moved forward. And he's been acting so weird. I don't know what's going on with him."
"Is he acting distant?" Hannah said knowingly.
"No. The exact opposite, actually. But I can't figure out if he's relieved that he doesn't have to make any commitments, or scared I might be pulling away, or trying to smooth things over so I won't be so upset when he pulls away..." Nancy shook her head. "Oh, Hannah, I really messed things up this time."
"Are you telling me you might want to get married? Can this be my Nancy?" Hannah teased.
"I don't know!" Nancy said. "I've been engaged before. Why are you so surprised?"
"I knew you weren't going to marry Ned," Hannah said, sounding as though it had been perfectly obvious. "You're smarter than that. You accepted his ring out of habit, that's all."
Nancy choked back a laugh. "I did care for Ned, Hannah. I loved him."
"Oh, I'm not saying you didn't. Ned is a wonderful young man." Hannah looked thoughtful. "You know those stock photos of couples that come with picture frames?"
"Yes?"
"That's what you and Ned were like. You looked good together and you functioned well, but there was no lasting meaning. You and Joe are the photo that the frame was meant to display. You're..." Hannah paused, choosing her words carefully. "You're perfectly imperfect." Hannah studied her surrogate daughter seriously. "I felt that way about Arthur, you know. We were soulmates."
"Is that why you never remarried?" Nancy asked softly. Hannah had only spoken about her husband a few times over the years.
"I guess it is," Hannah said. "Arthur was it for me. We met at a church picnic when we were sixteen and my friend June poked me in the ribs with her bony elbow and said Hannah, that boy is sweet on you. And he was. We shared a slice of banana cream pie by the river and from then on we were inseparable."
"That's the sweetest love story I've ever heard," Nancy said.
"Well," Hannah said, sipping her tea. "We didn't get our happily-ever-after, but we had some good years, and I can truly say we never stopped loving each other. And when he was gone, and I thought my life would be empty forever, along came Carson Drew and his beautiful little girl. And you know the rest of that story." She smiled at the young woman sitting across from her.
"That's a good story, too," Nancy said, smiling back.
Hannah picked up her knitting again. "So. Should I have a chat with Joe this afternoon? I can set him straight for you."
"No! Oh, please, no."
"I'm just teasing," the housekeeper said. "I don't think it's necessary, anyway. It's all going to work out. I've seen the way he looks at you, and that boy is besotted."
Nancy giggled. "Besotted?"
"That's what I said." Hannah had got to a tricky bit of her knitting and concentrated on it for a moment. Finally she lowered it to her lap and looked at Nancy. "Be vulnerable with him. Show him your heart. He knows you're independent and he may be afraid you'll run if he tries to pin you down."
"I hadn't thought of that," Nancy said thoughtfully. "Thanks, Hannah. I feel better."
"Good," Hannah said with satisfaction. She set aside her needles. "So that was Bess on the phone? How is she doing?"
"She's having a wonderful time out there," Nancy said.
"Talking of marriages- now there's a girl I didn't expect to marry so young," Hannah said.
"Really? Bess is a born romantic."
"Bess is a born flirt," Hannah said drily.
Nancy laughed. "So is Tom. They're like a pair of butterflies. They didn't really settle down so much as decide to flutter through life together."
"And now they're having their second baby," Hannah said.
"Don't start getting that mother hen look in your eyes," Nancy warned. "I'm not even sold on the marriage thing yet. Babies are not happening anytime soon."
"We'll see," said Hannah, and let the subject drop.
"On that note," Nancy said, sliding her computer into her bag, "I've got to go meet Callie and George and Myra for lunch downtown."
"Give Myra a kiss for me," Hannah said, walking Nancy to the door.
"I will." Nancy leaned in and kissed Hannah's cheek. "Thank you, Hannah. I don't know what I'd do without you."
"Then it's a good thing you're not getting rid of me anytime soon," Hannah said stoutly.
Nancy arrived at the girls' lunch meet-up with her mood dragging slightly, despite Hannah's cheering talk. While she was feeling better about her personal life, she was worried about the case. Joe had called while she was on the road to tell her that his police contacts had told him there was no usable DNA evidence at either crime scene, and that Diarmid and Allie had not been unreachable. They were not at home or answering their phones. It was a slightly discouraged detective who parallel-parked her roadster up the street from the diner Callie had texted her they were meeting at- the Town Square, not the Moonlight- and walked in, hoping the meal would be quick. She felt restless. She needed to take action, to force a new angle to open up in this investigation. Surely there was someplace she could break into, some witness she could interrogate...
"Nancy!" Myra yelled, waving both hands above her head joyfully. Nancy couldn't help smiling. She made her way over to the table George and Myra had claimed and gave the little girl a kiss.
"Hi, George. Hi, Myra-bird! Do you have your very own menu?"
"I'm asposed to order," Myra said, poring seriously over her upside-down menu. "I want French toast and coffee."
"Not happening, short stuff," George said.
"Okay. Chocolate milk," Myra said coolly, handing her menu to Nancy.
Nancy laughed. "She's Bess's daughter, all right."
"You're telling me. You're not the one who had to explain to her why we don't chase boys on the playground and kiss them."
Myra, who had been playing with George's car keys, swung her head up to glare. "But I want to," she began.
"Myra, look! Here comes Callie," Nancy said quickly, cutting short the impending tirade.
"Callie!" Myra shrieked happily.
"Hi, girls," Callie said, taking a seat across from Nancy. She pulled off her gloves, shivering. "It's cold out there!"
"Thanks for coming all the way out here," George told her.
"No problem," Callie said. "I wouldn't want to venture too far from home with a newly potty-trained kid either." A strange look crossed her face.
"That's a few years off," Nancy told her friend. "Worry about it later."
George unwrapped Myra's straw for her and helped her take a drink of water. "I'm, like, 80 percent sure Vidalia isn't working this shift, Cal."
Callie made a face. "Whatever. I can deal with her."
"Vidalia who?" Nancy asked, reaching for her own water glass.
"Vidalia, um...shit, I don't remember," George said. She clapped a hand over her mouth. "I mean shoot."
"She's a waitress here," Callie said. "She has a big crush on Frank, and she hates me."
Remembrance dawned on Nancy. "Oh, I know who she is! I grabbed lunch with him here a few months ago and she gave me the evil eye the whole time."
Callie rolled her eyes. "I'm not that possessive of the guy, and I'm marrying him."
"She was like that in high school too," George said. "I had a locker next to hers my freshman year. She got in trouble for stalking one of the football players. I guess she just transferred her obsession to Frank."
Nancy wasn't listening. She'd spotted a familiar head of curly hair at the counter. "Nova?" she called over. The girl turned.
"Hi!" she said, sliding off her stool and walking over to the group. "Nancy, right?"
Nancy nodded. "Is it a bad sign when the staff of one diner comes to eat at another diner?" she teased.
"I promise the food at the Moonlight is just fine," Nova said, grinning. "I just happened to be running an errand out this way."
"Girls, this is Nova Bates. She went to school with Joe," Nancy said. "Nova, these are my girls- George and Callie and Myra."
"Nice to meet you all," Nova said, giving them an awkward little wave.
"Do you want to join us?" Nancy offered.
"Sure!" Nova said. She went back to grab her plate and glass and when she returned, Vidalia followed in her wake.
"Hi, ladies. Can I get you started with some drinks?"
"Chocolate milk!" Myra said happily.
"I'd like a ginger ale, please," Callie said.
"All out," Vidalia said curtly.
Callie's eyebrows lifted. "Okay," she said slowly. "Then I'll have a Sprite."
The waitress turned to Nancy and George. "And for you?"
"Just water," George said.
"Peach tea, please," Nancy added.
George leaned in as Vidalia walked off toward the kitchen. "I'm sorry, Callie."
"Please," Callie said dismissively. "She's annoying, but I can deal."
"If I acted like that I don't think I'd have my job much longer," Nova said, shaking her head.
"She's got a thing for Callie's fiance," Nancy explained.
"That shouldn't matter," Nova said.
"You're a waitress at the Moonlight, Nova?" Callie said politely, changing the subject.
"Yup," Nova said cheerfully. "I love it. Free food and plenty of human interaction."
"My cousin Bess worked there for a little while in high school," George said. "She liked it, too."
"Joe and I ate there and interrogated Nova the other night," Nancy told her friends.
"I've been dying to know more. Did I crack the case for you?" Nova asked.
"No, but you were very helpful."
"It's killing me that I can't help out more on this case," George said, catching one of Myra's crayons before it could roll off the table. The little girl was happily occupied with a small coloring book George had dug out of her bag.
"You already did the most important part. You brought the case to me," Nancy said.
"Bullsh- bull poop. I want in on the action."
Callie laughed. "Isn't work exciting enough for you?"
"I teach martial arts to children. Does that sound exciting?" George took a sip of her water. "Actually, we did have some excitement yesterday. One of my ten-year-olds decided she'd rather be a Jedi than practice judo. She told everyone she was going to use the Force on them. And the this other kid got so mad at her for cheating, he actually cried."
"He seriously said she was cheating?" Nancy asked, laughing.
"Cross my heart," George said solemnly. "Kids can be so gullible."
"What did you do?" Nova asked curiously.
"Oh, I fed her some story about how part of being a Jedi is mastering control over yourself, and judo could help with that. She did eventually apologize to the crying kid."
"Where's my pink color?" Myra asked suddenly, shaking out the whole box of crayons on her placemat. George and Nancy scrambled to catch them before they all ended up on the floor; and by the time they had the crayons contained, Vidalia was back to give them their drinks and take their lunch orders.
"You ordered food, Callie!" Nancy said when they were alone again.
"Yeah, I'm taking a chance on it. I'm feeling a little better today." Callie reached for her glass and took a drink, a surprised look crossing her face. "Oh. This is really flat. Is everyone's soda flat?"
"No, mine's fine," Nancy said.
Nova shook her head. "Mine's okay too."
"The green-eyed monster strikes again!" Nancy said.
"We'll get you a new one," George said, looking around for a different waitress.
"No, its fine," Callie said quickly. "Actually, this is going to sit better on my stomach."
"Callie Shaw. We've talked about this," George said. "There is such a thing as being too nice."
"I know," Callie said, shaking her head. "I'm serious, though. Its fine." She looked at Nova. "I'm pregnant," she explained.
"How exciting! Congratulations!" Nova said.
"My mommy is pregnant!" Myra exclaimed. "Do you have a baby sister in there too?"
"I'm not sure what I have in there yet," Callie said, laughing.
"When are you due?" Nova asked.
"Sometime in August. I should find out more when I see the doctor."
"Oh, do you have an appointment?" Nancy asked, interested.
"The Thursday after Thanksgiving. I'm nervous, guys."
"Talk to Bess about it when she gets back," George advised. "She can talk you through this whole thing."
"Are you due in the fall, too?" Nova asked George.
"Me? What?" George sputtered.
"George isn't Myra's mother," Nancy said hastily. "Myra belongs to Bess. George is babysitting."
Nova's face was scarlet. "I'm so sorry- you really don't look pregnant, I just assumed. Oh wow. I'm sorry."
George laughed, suddenly. "No worries. I guess I kind of set myself up for that. See if I ever carry crayons and a sippy cup in my bag again, Miss Myra!"
Their food arrived then- a welcome distraction. Nova's embarrassment diffused while they all began eating. After a few minutes Callie spoke up.
"So, Nan," she said. "What's up with you and Joe lately? He was being extra flirty at breakfast."
It was Nancy's turn to blush. "Says the girl who was batting her eyelashes at her man through the entire meal," she retorted.
"Uh-uh, missy. No sidetracking."
"I don't know. He's being really sweet, even for Joe."
"Joe? Sweet?" George snorted. "You've never played softball with the guy. You should hear the trash talk that comes out of that mouth."
"I know exactly how dirty that mouth is," Nancy said sweetly. George and Nova simultaneously pretended to gag.
"All right," George said with admiration, fist-bumping Nova.
"I remember him when he was in second grade. I don't want to hear about his dirty mouth," Nova said, shuddering.
"I don't think we met until we were ten or eleven," Nancy said.
"You and Bess both had the biggest crush on him," George remembered.
"That's so cute!" Callie said.
"Callie is marrying Joe's brother," Nancy told Nova.
"Really? Oh, that's awesome. Frank was such a sweetheart," Nova said. "Not that Joe wasn't, Nancy. I just hold a grudge because he knocked off my glasses with a dodgeball one time. They're both really great guys." She looked back at Callie. "When is the wedding?"
"June," Callie said, toying with the food on her plate.
"Is your food all right?" Nancy asked. "We can make her fix it if there's a problem."
"It's barely warm, and the plate is cold. I think she stuck it in the refrigerator before she brought it out."
"What a bitch!" Nancy exclaimed.
"Words!" George yelped.
"Sorry!" Nancy gasped, glancing at Myra. But Myra was blissfully absorbed in squishing butter into her French toast with both little hands. George grabbed a bunch of napkins and tried to repair the damage while Nancy flagged down a waitress to warm up Callie's lunch.
"Do you hate having kids at your tables?" Callie asked Nova.
"Not really," Nova said, shrugging. "It's sad, but they're not that much messier than some adults."
Callie's plate came back, properly warm this time, and the girls finished their lunch without further incident. Nova excused herself before much longer, saying she had really enjoyed meeting everyone, but she had to get to work. The remainder of the company lingered over cups of coffee or cocoa for about half an hour.
"Well," George said finally, lifting Myra from her booster seat. "It pains me to say this, but Myra and I have a Mommy and Me yoga class to attend."
Nancy giggled. "Say it again, Georgie. Say it louder. Say it like you're proud."
"Screw you, Drew."
"Screw you!" Myra echoed.
"Bess is going to kill you," Callie said.
"Yeah. That wasn't a very zen thing to say. You know what, Callie? I think that yoga class is just what George needs," Nancy said, trying to look serious. George flipped her the bird behind Myra's back, stuffed a stray crayon into her bag, and departed.
"Where are you headed, Nan?" Callie asked, taking a final sip of her flat soda. Nancy was buttoning her coat slowly and mentally planning out her course of action.
"I'm think I'm going to hit that new coffee shop to see if they stock some cookies Hannah wants, and then I'm going back to campus to interview a guy one of my suspects hooked up with the night of the murder." Nancy stretched and winced. "If I don't curl up in a ball right here, that is. Your fiance just about killed me this morning."
"Your mistake was going running with both Frank and Joe. They may be close, but when they do athletic stuff together they always get locked into this macho rivalry where neither one can ever back down."
"You're so right. I totally forgot about that until about a half mile in this morning."
Callie hooked her arm through Nancy's and they walked out together, content and companionable.
"It's still not raining!" Callie said happily, shading her eyes against the bright sunlight.
"Now if it were only 40 degrees warmer," Nancy said.
"Yeah, really."
Nancy paused and looked at her friend. "I'm glad you're feeling better today. It was nice to have a real meal with you."
"I agree," Callie said. "So, see you at home later?"
At home. There was that phrase again. Nancy shifted her weight uncomfortably. "I'll probably be around," she said uncomfortably. Callie nodded, not seeming to notice her friend's inner struggle.
"Later, girlie. I parked in that lot."
"I'm up the street a bit. Later!" Nancy echoed.
Nancy walked off, deep in thought. She was absorbed with trying to make all the pieces of the puzzle fit together. Later, she would berate herself for this absorption. Broad daylight or no, you should have been more alert.
It was all about patterns. But none of the patterns in this case seemed to match. There was the much-too-coincidental overlap between Allie's last name and the island where Diarmid Connolly had started his second family...that wasn't a pattern, albeit a fairly useless one without any evidence linking Allie with the Hawaiian Connollys. The dynamic of Brendan and Keith's relationship, and Keith and Faith's- a dynamic where Keith always seemed to come out on top- that was another pattern. But Keith did not appear to have gained from his friend's death, or to have a Hawaiian connection.
Maybe Maggie or her hookup from the party will help me connect the dots, Nancy thought, picking up her pace. She fumbled in her purse, fishing out the keys to her roadster. And suddenly the whole world seemed to jerk on its axis.
It took a moment for reality to settle back into recognizable shapes. When the disorientation of that moment passed Nancy realized that someone, a rather tall and strong someone, was pulling her down an alley. There was a hand clamped over her mouth to keep her from screaming. Nancy didn't stop to think. She twisted suddenly and got the hand holding her keys free. She swung at him, hoping the makeshift weapon would inflict enough pain to make him let go, but her assailant had quick reflexes. He caught her wrist and bent her fingers back until the keys dropped into a half-frozen puddle.
"Stay off the Connolly case!" he hissed at her from behind the Scream mask he was wearing. The voice was toneless, as unrecognizable as the rest of him. He wore jeans and a black coat and a pair of rubber gloves.
"Go to hell," Nancy gasped, hoping to goad him into further speech. But he didn't take the bait. He shrugged and drew a knife from an inside coat pocket, as if to say You asked for it. From there the whole encounter devolved into a brief but vicious fight. Nancy found that she was not so much afraid as angry. She let the anger surge through her like electricity and she fought with all her strength, listening to what sounded like George's voice in the back of her mind, reminding her that her body was a weapon and she knew how to use it. Her attacker was breathing hard and fighting with panicked desperation. Clearly he had assumed she would be easier to dispatch. Nancy grinned. Inside her head George was cheering like crazy and Joe's voice suddenly joined in, reminding her she needed backup.
"Help!" Nancy shouted. It wasn't her loudest yell ever. Fighting is breathless work. But she repeated it a few times before she was too busy defending herself to spare the breath. Her attacker seemed to have gotten his second wind. In desperation, Nancy reached for the man's mask. That's when he stabbed her.
It was a miscalculation, really. Nancy had thought he would dodge back when threatened with being unmasked, instead of stepping into her onslaught and thrusting his knife into her. The blade caught her in the right side and she stumbled, her fingers sliding across the smooth surface of the mask. She managed to catch herself and elude his next slash, but she could tell she had been injured. In one last act of desperation Nancy lunged forward and kneed him in the groin, screaming something that might not have even been words; and suddenly he was running away, staggering slightly but still making good speed, and Nancy fell to her knees in the churned-up mud of the alleyway.
Footsteps pounded toward her. Nancy started pushing herself upright to meet whatever new assault was coming, and found herself face-to-face with Callie Shaw.
"Nancy!" Callie cried. "Oh, no. Sit back down." She had her phone in one hand and was trying to support Nancy with the other.
"What are you doing?" Nancy asked, but Callie was having a very flustered conversation with whoever she'd dialed, and did not answer her. Nancy sat down, more to make Callie stop gesturing at her than because she saw the need to.
Callie shoved her phone back into her coat pocket and knelt next to Nancy. "Lie down. The police and the paramedics are on their way."
"You're getting muddy," Nancy protested.
"I don't care."
"Why are you here?"
Callie was peeling back Nancy's coat with trembling fingers. Wisps of blonde hair fell forward, getting caught in the tears rolling down her cheeks. "I heard you yelling," she said. "Lie still. You're making it worse."
"You went home," Nancy said. Callie's hands were on her side, now, and she was pressing very hard. It hurt.
"I didn't make it very far. I was puking in the parking lot when I heard you." Callie tried to smile. "Good thing I'm pregnant, right? Please lie still, Nancy."
Nancy let her head fall back, thinking suddenly about the mud caking the hair Joe had washed so tenderly just a few hours ago. "I need to call Joe," she said.
"I'm covered in blood," Callie said helplessly.
"Where's my purse?"
Callie looked around. "I don't see it."
"Give me your phone." Nancy reached into Callie's pocket. Her hands were bruised, the knuckles skinned. She must have gotten in a few good punches. Like Callie, she was shaking with cold and leftover adrenaline. She managed to slide Callie's phone out of her pocket and brought it close to her face to send Joe a text. She set the phone on her chest and clasped her aching hands around it, feeling better.
"What did you tell him? 'Stabbed in alley, please come'?" Callie said angrily. "He could have met us at the hospital. This is going to hurt him."
"He's seen worse." Nancy closed her eyes. He would come. She could rest until then. But Callie wouldn't stop talking.
"What happened, Nancy? Who did this to you?"
"Big angry guy. He smelled like perfume," Nancy said blearily. "Is it bad?" She could smell blood now, cloying and sweet on the cold air. Callie turned her face away, trying not to gag.
"It's not bad," Callie said, swallowing hard. She was lying. "Just keep still. Help is coming."
Time seemed to stand still and leap forward all at once. Callie kept talking, kept making Nancy answer. And then suddenly there were feet all around her, and sirens, and lights, and people talking- all of which Nancy heard as if from the other end of a tunnel. Her head was spinning and part of her was whispering I don't get this dizzy when I donate blood. I must be losing a lot.
Callie's face loomed close again. "I'll meet you at the hospital. I have Joe with me."
"No. I'm going with her. Frank is coming to pick you up, Cal."
Nancy had not cried up till this point, but tears of sheer relief welled up in her eyes when she heard Joe's voice. She heard him say a few choice words to a well-intentioned paramedic who was trying to make him get back. Then he was there at her side, looking into her face, blue eyes bright with emotion. He had that same clenched muscle in his jaw that Frank got when he was upset.
"Dammit, Nancy, there are easier ways to add a little excitement to your day," he said, managing to sound almost natural. Nancy grinned through her tears.
"He told me to stay off the case. That means we're getting somewhere!" she told him.
"Good news," Joe said softly. "But don't worry about it right now."
The paramedics were wheeling her toward the ambulance now. Nancy shook her head at Joe. "Don't say we need to worry about me right now. I'm fine."
"Yeah, you look fine. These people are clearly over-reacting." Joe vaulted up into the back of the ambulance and resumed his place by her side. "Let's humor them and get you checked out, okay?"
"I suppose," Nancy murmured.
Joe gently brushed a strand of hair back from her face. "Good girl."