Chapter Twenty-Two: The Calm Before
"No sign of any Connollys," Nancy said, peering hard out her window as they passed the gallery. Everything was just as they had left it. The tracks they had left in the parking lot that morning had been obliterated by the afternoon's snow and wind, and no fresh tracks marred the walkway. "I still wish we could stop and look around."
"Trust the camera," Joe said philosophically.
"Don't you ever watch movies?" Nancy demanded, mostly joking. "What if they hacked our cameras and put them on a loop?"
"Yeah. The guy who botched his first robbery so badly that he ended up stabbing his brother has suddenly developed super hacker skills," Joe said dryly.
"Oh, I know Diarmid's too dumb. But Allie?" Nancy said, pondering.
"She's smarter than we gave her credit for," Joe admitted, "but I don't think that's her style."
"If I were in her place, I wouldn't send Diarmid in at all. I'd wait for the local family to steal it and then steal it from them. They can't exactly report the theft."
"As much as she enjoys letting other people take the fall for her, patience is not her strong point," Joe said.
Nancy sighed. "She had to have planted the bayonet at Lana's. That kind of clinches the whole double cross, doesn't it? Allie gets away clean with the original paintings, and all the blame falls on Lana and her family. No chance they'd come back from that debacle to try to claim their inheritance."
"Not a chance," Joe agreed. "By the time Lana got herself cleared, Allie and the money would have been long gone."
"One thing's for sure: I'm kicking myself for not pressing the issue more when I spoke with Lana. Now that I think back on our conversation, she did sort of brush me off when I asked whether she knew any of her Hawaiian relatives. I should have seen she was hiding something."
Joe shrugged. "It's okay, Nan. We got hung up on the Diarmid thing and didn't think to look deeper."
"I suppose. Do you think Keith is as deep in this as Jenny claims he is?"
"I'm not sure how that would make sense. He probably just got sucked in when he started rooming with Brendan." Joe tapped the brake, suddenly, slowing the truck to a cautious crawl, before resuming his normal speed. "Sorry, thought I saw some deer on the other side of the trees. Hitting one tonight would be really crappy timing."
Nancy shuddered. "I'll keep an eye out," she promised.
"Why do you think Brendan and Faith got left out of the family business?" Joe asked, returning to the subject at hand.
"I think Brendan was more useful to them the way he was. I mean, he was totally committed to finding the inheritance. He was doing all the work for them. And Faith...well, I don't know."
"Too loyal to Brendan, maybe. I wonder why Jenny wasn't more tempted." They'd reached the Drew residence. Joe eased the truck over toward the curb. "I'm going to park here so we don't block Camille's car. I'm sorry."
"No problem," Nancy assured him.
It was a problem, as it turned out. Nancy lost a shoe in the snow just a few steps away from the truck. "Damn," she muttered, hopping for balance while she tried to retrieve it.
"You okay?" Joe called from the driveway.
"Yeah." She dumped snow out of the sneaker and jammed her foot back into it. "I've just realized we should have stopped off at the drugstore for a new set of laces."
"I can go back," Joe started, and Nancy cut him off with a vigorous shake of the head.
"That would be silly. I think I have another pair of sneakers upstairs. Come on in."
Everyone was in the kitchen. Camille was sitting on one of the tall stools at the kitchen island, sipping a glass of wine, while Carson cut a cake. Hannah hovered, clearly frustrated but too polite to shoo her employer away from his task. Nancy came to her rescue.
"Hello, everyone! Dad, stop mutilating Hannah's beautiful cake and come give me a hug."
"Nancy!" he said, pleased, and set down the cake server. "Nancy, honey, I didn't even hear you come in. How are you feeling?"
"I'm fine, Dad," she said, stepping into his embrace. "Congratulations!"
"Thank you."
"And we arrived just in time for the celebratory cake. Do we have good timing, or what?" Nancy joked.
Carson reached out and brushed at Nancy's shoulder. "I'm sorry, honey, I got icing on your, er, t-shirt." There was a slight hesitance in his voice and a slight furrow between his brows as his gaze traveled across the design on the front. Nancy had forgotten she was wearing Joe's t-shirt, a far cry from her usual style.
"Aerosmith, huh," Carson commented. "I'm assuming this belongs to you, Joe?"
"Yes, sir," Joe said easily.
"Did I ever tell you I saw them in concert?" Carson asked.
Nancy couldn't help smiling. It was clear from Joe's expression that he had been expecting the lawyer to say something much less friendly. But he recovered quickly.
"I'd love to hear about it," he said.
Nancy left them to their conversation and moved toward the kitchen island.
"Congratulations, Camille. May I see the ring?"
Camille's eyes shone with real happiness as she held out her hand. "Isn't it gorgeous?" she said proudly. "Who knew your dad had so much romance in him?"
"How did it happen?" Nancy asked, sliding onto the seat next to Camille's and leaning in conspiratorially.
"Oh, it was a wonderful evening," Camille said. "He took me to a ballet, and after that we had dinner at the most beautiful little restaurant. We were walking back to our hotel afterwards and I told him I'd just had the loveliest, most memorable evening." Camille smiled and touched her ring. "He shook his head and told me he didn't think it was the most memorable yet. You know what a good poker face he has. I was actually frightened, for a moment, that he was going to end the relationship. But then he actually got down on one knee right there outside our hotel, and he asked me to marry him."
"How romantic!" Nancy said. "I'm so happy for you. For both of you."
Camille reached over and touched Nancy's hand. "Carson assured me he had spoken with you before our trip."
"Yes," she said quickly, seeing at once what Camille was getting at. "He told me what he was planning, and he asked if I were okay with it. And I am. Camille, I meant what I said. I am truly happy for you and Dad."
"Thank you, Nancy. I felt a bit delicate about the whole thing." Camille pressed her hand. "I'm not going to try to mother you. You're an adult. But I would like us to be friends."
"I would like that," Nancy returned.
"Cake, darling?" Carson said, coming up between them, and Nancy almost answered before realizing he meant Camille.
Huh. Maybe this will take some getting used to, she thought ruefully. But Nancy was not the sulking kind. She truly was happy for her father. And if she felt a wistful pull in her heart, a pang of regret for the mother she barely remembered, she would keep it to herself. She took a deep breath and looked around for Joe, who had evidently been helping Hannah make coffee.
"Coffee, Nan," he said, setting a mug in front of her. It was made just the way she liked it. Nancy impulsively leaned over and kissed his cheek.
"Thanks."
"You're welcome. But to be completely honest, Hannah had to remind me how much sugar you take."
"In that case- thanks, Hannah."
"Oh, he wasn't too far wrong," Hannah said, settling herself in and reaching for a napkin.
"Hannah, you've outdone yourself," Carson pronounced, holding a bite of cake aloft. The lawyer was a reserved man, but he was absolutely beaming this evening, and Camille's face was softer than usual.
"We're all so pleased for you," Hannah said.
Nancy reached across the table to squeeze the housekeeper's hand. "Don't you start tearing up, Hannah. You're going to make me cry too."
"No waterworks," Hannah promised.
"That's right," Camille agreed. "I don't want any tears shed on our account."
"Happy tears," Nancy assured her.
"Perhaps a change of subject would be wise," Carson suggested. "How are you two faring with your case?"
Joe spoke up. "We're hoping to wrap it up tonight, actually."
"Tonight?" Camille's eyebrows shot up. "You're sitting here eating cake and talking about family matters, and this is going to wrap up the case?"
Nancy held up her phone. "Surveillance video feed. We're waiting for an art thief to make a move."
"Ah, the classic mousetrap denouement," Carson said. "And where will you be when the trap goes snap?"
"Here, if that's okay with you. The gallery is just a few minutes away," Nancy said.
"So this is a stakeout!" Camille exclaimed, clearly impressed. She looked around, meeting one amused face after another, and her own face fell slightly. "And I'm guessing this is not the first stakeout for any of you."
"Far from it," Hannah said dryly.
"All in a day's work for us," Joe said cheerfully.
"Even so, I can't believe how calm you all are about all this excitement. Even after Nancy's horrible experience the other day," Camille said. "Speaking of which, Nancy, shouldn't you be on medical leave?"
"No," Nancy said kindly. "I'm really okay. I heal up quickly." She touched the bruise on her face. "See? This one is almost gone."
"I don't know how you do it," Camille said, addressing Hannah and Carson. "I worried enough when my kids were doing normal kid stuff."
"We're very proud of Nancy," Hannah said affectionately. "I think I'm going to worry more after I've moved out."
"Hannah, no. You know we'll talk just as much as we ever did," Nancy protested.
"Let's not talk about that tonight. Tonight is about happy things," Carson decreed.
"Carson, my move is a happy thing," Hannah scolded gently. "Life goes on, you know, and you all will be just fine."
Nancy felt Joe take her hand under the table. She squeezed it lightly, knowing what he was thinking: that part of Hannah's "life goes on" was Nancy's decision to move out. Nancy shook her head just enough for him to see. She was very deliberately not bringing that up tonight.
"You kids polished off that cake pretty fast," Hannah continued. "Did you have a chance to get dinner?"
"I had a cup of coffee at the diner, earlier," Nancy said slowly, looking down at her empty cake plate. She had been wondering why the rich dessert had not made her feel full.
"I had a milkshake," Joe admitted, a sort of little-boy half-smile on his face. Hannah shot up from her seat.
"Maybe you're right! Maybe you do need someone to take care of you!" she muttered, heading for the refrigerator.
"I'm inclined to agree with Hannah. Perhaps I should keep her on as a nanny," Carson teased.
"Dad," Nancy protested, rolling her eyes. "A nanny is the last thing I need."
"A father likes to know his child is eating right," Carson said.
"Ordinarily, I do. We just got so busy today."
"Now there's an aspect of your job I can relate to!" Camille said. "I've accidentally worked through lunch a time or two." She stood, reaching for her purse.
Carson rose, too. "Are you going?"
"Yes. It's been a wonderful evening, but I've got to get home and feed Nick and Nora." She caught Joe's curious expression and laughed. "My parakeets," she explained. "Nancy, I'm going to give you a call sometime. I'd like to have lunch together. Though we might need to postpone that until after Thanksgiving."
"I look forward to it," Nancy said politely.
"Wonderful. Goodnight, all. Hannah, thanks again for the delicious cake."
"I'll walk you out," Carson said, putting an arm around his fiancee.
"I'm not used to seeing Dad so demonstrative," Nancy said softly, once the lawyer was out of the room.
Hannah set a pair of plates down in front of Nancy and Joe. She nodded. "She brings it out in him. They seem truly happy together. Now eat, please."
Nancy looked down at her plate and laughed. "A peanut butter and jelly sandwich with the crust cut off? Subtle, Hannah."
"Adults remember to feed themselves, dearie," Hannah said, softening her words by dropping a kiss on Nancy's forehead.
"Thank you, Hannah," Joe said.
"You're welcome." Hannah hesitated. "Joe, honey, while you're here, would you take a look at my blender? It's not working right."
"Sure," Joe said easily, sliding off his stool. "That sounds like a good distraction."
"No, keep eating. I'll grab it for you."
Carson returned in time to see Hannah pulling the blender and a small tool kit from a cabinet. "Is Hannah putting you to work already, young man?"
Joe nodded. "She says I've got to earn my cake or get out," he joked.
"Joseph Hardy, you know I said no such thing," Hannah scolded. "Here's the blender, though I'm not sure now that I want you to look at it!"
"I'm sorry, Hannah. Please let me fix your blender? I mean, it's either this, or I go home and get some motorcycle parts to tinker with."
"Greasy motorcycle parts will never see the inside of my kitchen," Hannah decreed. "Or," she added quickly, seeing the twinkle in his eye, "my clean living room!"
"Yes, ma'am," Joe said. He got up and took his and Nancy's empty plates to the sink.
Carson turned to Nancy. "You two are staying over tonight?"
Nancy nodded. "If we sleep at all, we'll likely do it in shifts."
Joe, who was still rinsing dishes at the sink, broke in. His voice was respectful but strong and confident. "Sir, I owe you an apology for the other night. I wasn't thinking clearly."
"I appreciate the apology, Joe." Carson steepled his fingers thoughtfully. "I believe I owe you an apology of my own. You take good care of my daughter. The particulars of your relationship are none of my business."
"Dad," Nancy said, but Carson raised a hand to stop her.
"I appreciate the respect you two have shown me and one another. You're both adults. I don't want to see anything, I don't want to hear anything, but I'm not going to forbid anything." He shot a glance at Hannah, like a chastened child. "It has also been pointed out to me that I'm something of a hypocrite after having spent the weekend with my own significant other."
Hannah looked a little smug. "I'm still the boss around here for a while longer," she said playfully.
"It's the truth," Carson admitted, chuckling.
"Thanks, Dad." Nancy leaned over to give him a quick hug.
"All right. I think I'm going to call it a night," the lawyer said. "Thank you for coming over. It meant a lot to me and to Camille."
"You're welcome," Nancy said.
Hannah went off to bed not long after Carson did, leaving the young detectives to their vigil. Time had passed fairly quickly while there were people around to talk with; now the minutes began to drag like hours.
"Should we go to bed?" Nancy asked, following Joe into the living room.
"I'd just lie there," Joe said, shaking his head. He set the tool kit and the blender on the coffee table and looked up at her. "You can go get some sleep if you want to. Just let me know when you want me to wake you."
"No, thanks. I'm too keyed up." She flopped into a chair, reaching for her phone. For some time there was silence between them. Joe covered the table with sheets of newspaper and began methodically disassembling the blender motor. Nancy's eyes were glued to her phone.
"Bess says things are still a go on their end," Nancy said finally, scrolling through her messages for the thousandth time. "And I let Callie know the diner thing was not a trap."
"Good. She was worried."
Nancy reached for the TV remote. She flipped through a few channels before compulsively checking her phone again. No movement. No messages. Nancy groaned.
"I wish we were on a regular stakeout. This is killing me. I can't focus on anything else."
"We triple-checked that alarm system, Nan. We're going to get notified the second a mouse crosses the floor of that place, let alone a burglar." Joe's hands belied the calm in his voice. They were lacking their usual intuitive precision. And as he finished speaking, one hand slipped, sending a screw skittering across the floor.
"Shit. Did you see where that went?"
"Yeah, it's right there." Nancy slid off her chair and retrieved it for him.
"Thanks."
He went back to his tinkering. Nancy flipped restlessly through the rest of the channels.
"George would tell me to go for a run or something and chill out," she muttered, settling for a late-night news program.
Joe swore again. "This screw is stripped."
"I think she needs to lay off the spray tan."
"Who, George?"
"No, this lady," Nancy said, gesturing at the news anchor on the TV.
"Oh." He pried out another component, looking pleased. "Eureka!"
"You found the problem?"
"And I know how to fix it," he said triumphantly.
"Hannah will be pleased." Nancy vacated her chair and sat down on the floor beside him, watching his progress. It was all a jumble of parts to her, but Joe seemed to know what he was doing.
"Speaking of George," she said suddenly, "did I tell you her theory about stakeouts?"
"No, I don't believe you did." He was squinting, slotting a very tiny part into place.
"George thinks that people who are sleeping together can't work together. She told me while we were staking out Kate's place last week."
Joe set down the blender parts, thinking this over. "I think we do all right," he said slowly.
"That's what I told her."
"I think," Joe said, still pondering this, "that if we had a purely physical relationship, with no real connection to each other or the work, then yeah, the sex could be overly distracting. But we know how to keep it in bounds. For example, if we were on a traditional stakeout, there's no way I would do this." And he leaned over and kissed her. Nancy gave a soft yelp of surprise before relaxing into the kiss. She came away grinning mischievously, but tried to make her voice serious.
"Absolutely. And if we were on a traditional stakeout, I definitely wouldn't do this." She turned her face up to kiss him again, biting his lower lip just hard enough to get his attention. He responded just the way she had hoped he would: by pulling her close, one hand on her hip and the other wrapping in her ponytail and tugging just hard enough to ignite her passion.
"I thought you said you didn't want to go to bed," she gasped.
"I've had a change of heart." He kissed her again.
When he released her, Nancy took his hand and led him upstairs to her bedroom, tiptoeing and feeling half-guilty despite Carson's benediction.
"Do you feel like a misbehaving teenager?" Joe whispered.
"Yes!" Nancy admitted, laughing. "Go on. I'll get the door. It squeaks if you don't do it just right."
Joe watched in amusement as she eased the door shut without a sound. "Let me guess. You've had that move down since you were seven."
"Five," Nancy shot back. "I didn't learn to climb out the window until I was ten, though."
"I have you beat on that one. I think my first window climb was around eight. But I did have the advantage of an older brother to teach me the tricks of the trade."
Nancy's eyes sparkled. "You had it easy."
"Yeah, yeah." Joe kissed her softly. "Got your phone?"
Nancy held it up. Joe took it and laid it on the bedside table beside his, checking that both phones had the camera app up and running and the alert volumes turned up high. Then he moved toward Nancy again and kissed her: tender this time, long and slow and sweet.
"Maybe a technological stakeout has its perks," she murmured.
"As long as Diarmid doesn't trip the alarm while we're-"
Nancy interrupted him with another kiss, less tender this time, letting the heat between them build fast. "Enough talking," she said, pulling back to tug her shirt off. She knew neither of them were in the mood for gentleness. They were discharging nervous energy, grounding one another, and right now that meant they needed to be playful but rough.
"Can I just say how much I love watching you do that?" Joe drawled.
"Nope. Less talking, more action," Nancy said, starting to go to her knees in front of him. Joe groaned.
"I love watching that, too. But I'd rather do this," he said, picking her up and setting her on the bed. She peeled off her jeans while watching Joe strip off his shirt.
"See something you like?" he asked, noticing her gaze.
"I could use a closer look," Nancy said, scooting back on the bed to make room for him.
"It's a twin size bed. You're definitely going to get a closer look," Joe joked.
When he put a knee down on the mattress, it squeaked. Joe froze. "Should we transfer operations to the floor, Captain?"
"It wasn't that loud!" Nancy whispered, giggling.
"It's been too long since I lived with my parents. My stealth sensors are all off balance." He eased his way onto the bed until they were lying face-to-face, Nancy's knee atop his and their arms wound around each other. He traced his fingers down her bare back to make her shiver. "I don't want to make your dad regret giving us carte blanche."
"Relax. You can't hear anything from all the way down there."
Joe raised an eyebrow, and Nancy blushed. "Talking, I mean. Regular noises. I never, I mean, Ned never, in my room-"
"Nan." Joe put a finger to her lips. "It's fine."
"We never," Nancy said again, nipping at his fingertip, brushing it with her tongue. "I love your hands. Have I ever told you that?"
Joe pulled his finger from her lips and used it to tip her chin up instead. "These hands? Ah, that explains your sudden amorousness. Watching me repair that blender must have driven you wild."
"Yes, I find it irresistible to watch you use a screwdriver."
"The screwdriver is a metaphor, yes?" Joe said, waggling his eyebrows outrageously.
"Shut up and kiss me," Nancy said, but she was laughing. She was expecting a playful kiss- but when their lips met it was like electricity, primal and breathtaking. She squirmed against him, sliding a hand between them to undo the button on his jeans. Together they fumbled their remaining clothing aside, hands moving in impatient jerks, desperate suddenly to come together. The act was urgent, explosive. Joe clamped a hand over Nancy's mouth to stifle her cries, dropping his face to muffle his own obscenities against her shoulder.
Afterwards, Nancy lay in his arms and let her eyes drift shut.
"You can sleep now, if you want," Joe murmured, kissing her languidly.
"I'm not tired," Nancy whispered back. "Just peaceful." She reached up a hand to cup his face, running a finger over the roughness of his cheek. He had not had time to shave that morning. Joe turned his head to kiss the palm of her hand.
"I know what you mean. If we'd been on a real stakeout, we would still be nervous as hell. I'm feeling pretty relaxed right now."
"Obviously George didn't think through all the nuances!"
"Well, this is George we're talking about," Joe pointed out. "Sex is not exactly high on her list of priorities."
"True," Nancy agreed. "Can you see the camera feed?"
He craned his head. "Still nothing." He lay back down, pillowing his head on one arm and tracing her collarbone with the fingers of his free hand. "I wish I could draw you."
"I'm sure the world will get along fine without a nude sketch of yours truly," Nancy said dryly.
"The world, maybe, but what about me?" His finger traveled lower, skimming along the curve of her breast. Nancy relaxed, content to be worshiped. This must be how Bess feels, she thought. Powerful. Adored.
Joe's wandering fingers brushed the roughness of the stitches in her side. "When are you getting these out?" he asked, circling them lightly.
"After Thanksgiving," Nancy said vaguely. "I wrote it down somewhere. Dr. Hammond says I must be single-handedly trying to keep him in business."
"He has a point," Joe said, settling his hand on her hipbone.
"Hey," Nancy said, making eye contact. "I don't go out of my way to get hurt. We just talked about this."
"I know," Joe said. "I know. I'm sorry."
Nancy sighed. "We should get dressed."
"Yeah," Joe said, but he didn't move. Finally Nancy gave him a playful little nudge and he rolled away, zipping up his jeans. He grabbed their shirts off the floor and tossed her the one she'd been wearing.
"I forgot about these," Nancy said, sitting up and sticking out her toes in their mismatched socks.
"You'd better pack up some clothes while you're here," Joe advised. He went over to check their phones again while Nancy headed for her dresser.
"I'll take that drawer," she said, tossing a few pairs of socks into a bag.
"Good."
"But I don't know about moving in."
"That's fine."
"Anything?" she asked, referring to the cameras.
"If I'd seen something would I be sitting here watching you pack?"
"I can't believe this is almost over," Nancy said, adding a pair of jeans to her bag.
"Good riddance, I say. It's been a bumpy ride."
"What, you haven't enjoyed our first official collaboration?" Nancy teased.
Joe stretched and flopped back onto the bed, which did not squeak at all this time. "No bumps there," he said, and for a moment Nancy was not sure whether he was talking about the mattress or their collaboration. She waited, letting him go on. "I like working with you. I thought, when Frank joined the police force, that I'd be better off without a partner. We were so good together. Seamless. I can just about read his mind." He rolled onto his side, propping himself on an elbow, to look at her. "But I can just about read yours, too. We've got something good going."
"I agree," Nancy said simply.
Joe flopped back again, running his fingers restlessly through his hair. "Come on, Diarmid."
"Want to go back downstairs and find something to eat?" Nancy suggested, zipping her bag.
"Hungry again, or humoring me?"
"Starving," she told him.
"Then sure, let's scavenge." He hopped up, grabbing their phones, and they tiptoed back through the sleeping house to the kitchen. He retrieved the blender parts and finished re-assembling it while Nancy made scrambled eggs and toast. They ate it in front of the TV, flipping through insipid late-night programs, until their patience ran out.
"I can't take this anymore," Nancy exclaimed. "Let's go do a real stakeout."
A slow smile spread across Joe's face. "I love you. You know that, right?"
Nancy hooked her fingers into the waistband of his jeans and gave him a teasing look. "Maybe you should show me again."
"Come on," he said affectionately, throwing an arm around her and steering her toward the door.
"Wait." Nancy tore a page off the memo pad beside the phone and scribbled a quick note, which she folded and propped on the coffee table.
"Okay. Let's do this."