August 2

The next morning, Nancy was awakened bright and early by the sound of her phone. Grumbling, she crawled out of bed in time to hear her father call out, "Nancy? It's for you!"

"Okay!" she called down. "I'll get it in a minute!" Yawning, she reached for the receiver, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "Hello?" she mumbled.

"Nancy! You didn't return my call!"

"I'm sorry, Mrs. McGreevy…I returned home after eleven, and I assumed you didn't want to be called at such a late hour."

"Nonsense! Call me at any time! My Hank's life may depend on your reaching me, so I'll be by the phone as often as I can."

"Great." Oh, how she hated it when people did this. It made it impossible to get real work done, they wanted updates so often.

"Now, dear, what time were you coming over?"

"Coming…over?" Nancy woke up in a hurry. Had she actually made plans to go to the woman's house? Searching her memory, she came up blank. She did remember telling her to call if her husband didn't show, but…

"Well, of course, dear! You need to investigate the scene of the crime!"

Nancy pinched her nose, growling inwardly. "Mrs. McGreevy," she said, trying to remain calm. "I don't think that's necessary just yet. Hank hasn't even been missing a full day. It's possible he'll come home safe and sound this afternoon. Why don't you give me a call tonight if he hasn't shown, and until then, just try to act like it's a normal Saturday, okay?"

"Okay…" the other woman sounded doubtful. "Do you really think he'll be home this afternoon?"

"I certainly think it's a possibility…if not, we'll go from there."

"…All right. Thank you." With a click, the conversation was over, leaving Nancy staring at the phone in exasperation. Sighing, she realized it was now not worth going back to bed – she wouldn't be able to sleep.

Half an hour later, she was sitting at the breakfast table with her father and Hannah, discussing Mrs. McGreevy's situation.

"You say she's an older woman?" Nancy nodded, so Carson thought for a moment. "It's possible she feels insecure without her husband around."

"Well, at least this case seems to be relatively tame…is Ned going to help you with it, Nancy?" Hannah inquired.

"Uh, well…"

"Come to think of it, last night was your anniversary, right? I hope you two got to finish your dinner before the Chief called you in."

"Actually…"

The phone rang again, and Nancy jumped to get it. Saved by the bell, she thought with relief as she lifted the receiver. But the relief was short-lived.

"Hello?"

"Nancy!"

"Mrs. McGreevy…" What now? she wondered.

"Was there a time I should call you if Hank doesn't show up today?"

Nancy thought for a moment. "How about ten o'clock?" she suggested. "If he isn't home by then, call me and we'll make plans for me to come over and investigate."

"Okay, dear." Mrs. McGreevy hung up. Nancy briefly wondered if that would be the last call of the day, before deciding not to worry about it. She needed to call Ned back, and apologize again for the previous night. She dialed the number, holding her breath until she heard his groggy voice on the other end.

"H'lo?"

"Ned? It's Nancy."

"Nancy!" He sounded instantly more awake.

"I got your message."

"Oh…yeah. So…what time should I come by?"

"Anytime this afternoon is fine…and maybe after we talk, we can reheat that dinner you made…it smelled delicious."

"My dad ate part of it last night for a midnight snack."

"Oh…well, we could go out then. My treat."

She heard him sigh on the other end. "Maybe…let's just see how things turn out this afternoon, okay?"

"Okay."

"I'll be by around three."

"That's fine."

They said their goodbyes, and hung up. Nancy stared at the phone in her hand for a moment, before returning the receiver to the cradle. Biting her lip, she glanced at the clock and realized she had six hours until Ned arrived. She needed a way to waste time, to distract herself from the odd twisting sensation in her stomach, so she decided to organize her limited information on the McGreevy case.

Six hours later, not only was the McGreevy case organized, but so were the rest of her files. Nancy had just finished placing the last folder into the filing cabinet when the doorbell rang. She rushed down the stairs, and opened the door. Ned stood there, holding a small wrapped box in his hand. He smiled briefly at her appearance.

"You were organizing case files again, weren't you?"

"How could you tell?"

"Your hair's pulled back in a ponytail."

"I do that a lot."

"But not," he said, reaching forward. "Wearing one of these as well." And he pulled off the headband she'd used to keep stray hair out of her eyes.

"Oh…" She laughed momentarily. "I guess you know me pretty well."

"Yeah…I guess so." He cleared his throat. "Are you going to invite me in or were you planning to open your gift here on the porch?"

"Oh! Sorry," Nancy exclaimed as she moved aside so he could step in. "If you give me a minute, I'll go get your present..." He nodded, so she rushed upstairs to her room.

Where is it? she thought frantically, pulling out her drawers and rifling through her closet. It wasn't that she didn't have a gift…she just couldn't remember where she'd put it last night, she'd been so busy worrying about the case and talking to Ned today…Finally, she spotted it, tucked carelessly behind the bed. She grabbed it up, made sure it was indeed his present, and hurried back down the steps.

She found him waiting for her in the living room. "Didn't mean to make you wait so long," she said. Ned just shrugged.

"I'm used to it," he said, and she flinched rapidly as she realized the depth of his words. Wordlessly, she handed his gift to him, accepting his in return.

Paper rustled, and they both withdrew their gifts.

"Oh, Ned," she breathed, removing a simple silver locket from its box and admiring it, "Thank you."

He smiled. "You were so upset to discover your old one missing, I knew you would like to have another."

Nancy leaned over and kissed his cheek. "You're exactly right. Do you like your gift?"

Ned grinned. "I'm never too old for a trading card, especially when it's autographed by my favorite athlete. I'm amazed you could get this!"

"Well…" she hedged. She didn't want to admit that she'd only managed to get it because the athlete in question owed her a favor since she'd solved a case for him. "I have my means."

She was prevented from saying more when he gave her a thank-you kiss. "I really appreciate this, Nancy."

"No problem," she said, as he fastened her new locket around her neck. "Now...you wanted to talk?"

For a moment, conflicting emotions flickered across his face. Finally, he sighed. "I do…but I don't want to spoil the mood. We can talk about us later. How about you fill me in on your new case instead?"

Nancy rolled her eyes. "I'm not so sure it is a case. Mrs. McGreevy swears that her husband never leaves the house without either telling her or writing her a note. He's been missing less than 24 hours, but as there was no note, Mrs. McGreevy is certain that he's been kidnapped or worse. She's already called me three times since I interviewed her yesterday, and-"

The phone rang, interrupting her. "Excuse me," she said to Ned, and he nodded. She crossed the room to answer the phone.

"Hello?"

"Nancy! Hank still hasn't returned! It's now four o'clock – almost twenty-four hours since he disappeared!" Irma McGreevy's voice sounded frantic over the phone. "Can't you investigate now?"

"I'm sorry, Mrs. McGreevy, but I can't."

"Why not?" asked the older woman, her voice rising in pitch. "My Hank could be hurt or trapped with some horrible criminals!"

Nancy sighed, adjusting the phone so she could speak better. "Mrs. McGreevy, the law technically requires you wait a full day before reporting an individual missing."

"But I was allowed to report it last night!"

"Yes. The River Heights police department tends to be more lax, as we're a much smaller area. But I'd still like to wait a full day, just to be sure."

"Oh…well, if you think it would be best…"

"I do," Nancy stated firmly. "Wait until ten o'clock tonight. That gives Hank slightly more than a day. If he's not home by then, call me, just as we agreed earlier."

"Alright, then, dear. I promise not to call you again until ten o'clock."

"Goodbye, Mrs. McGreevy."

"Goodbye, dear."

"Sounds like she's really worried," Ned commented as Nancy hung up.

"Yes…and I can understand that…but I do wish she wouldn't call so often." Running a hand through her hair, she added, "I really don't want to think any more about the case at the moment." She glanced at the clock. "It's a bit early for dinner, so how about we catch a movie, and then dinner? It's quality together-time, and as Mrs. McGreevy doesn't have my cell number, I can guarantee we won't be interrupted."

"Sounds good," Ned said, rising from his seat. "And," he added, his eyes twinkling. "I seem to recall your statement from earlier – I do believe you promised that this dinner is on you."

She smiled at him as they walked to the door. "And a Drew always keeps her word."

Nancy returned home at about six o'clock that evening, in a wonderful mood. The movie had been entertaining, and dinner was simply amazing. She and Ned had gone to a new restaurant in town that promised great food, reasonable prices, casual dress, and a romantic atmosphere. It had certainly lived up to the promise; Nancy couldn't remember having such a great dinner date with Ned in a long time. Come to think of it, she realized. We haven't had an actual dinner date in a long time – not one where it's just us, anyway, without a case distracting me or causing an interruption. Indeed, they had stayed well away from discussing detective work at all, and Nancy grimaced when she realized she once more had to get into the detective mindset – Mrs. McGreevy had called yet again.

She was spared making a call, however, by Hannah. The Drews' housekeeper poked her head out of the kitchen just as Nancy was about to dial the number.

"I know you already ate, Nancy, but how about helping me decide what to make for dinner anyway?"

"Sure." Nancy wandered into the kitchen, grateful for the interruption. "Why's dinner so late?"

"Your father had a late lunch meeting with a client today, so I decided to push dinner back." Hannah surveyed the contents of the refrigerator critically. "What do you think of honey glazed chicken breast with peas…and, hmm…chocolate cake for dessert?"

"I think I should've just had Ned over dinner instead of going out, is what I think."

Hannah smiled. "I'll make sure to save some back – nothing wrong with leftovers for lunch tomorrow." She pointed to the cabinets. "Now, how about you get out the cake ingredients and start mixing? I'll take care of the chicken."

"Deal." Nancy reached for a mixing bowl and spoon.

Of course, cooking dinner with Hannah didn't take very long, so soon enough Nancy once more was holding the phone receiver in her hand. Sighing, she dialed the number.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Mrs. McGreevy."

"Oh, Nancy, dear! I was wondering…"

"Yes, I'll come over now." Otherwise, she'll just keep calling.

"Oh, good. Well, then, do you have my address?"

"If you'll hold a moment, I'll check." Nancy set the receiver down carefully, and went to get her purse. Pulling a small notebook from it, she flipped through until she found what she wanted. She returned to the phone. "Yes, I have it. I can be there in about ten minutes."

"Thank you, dear. I'll see you in ten minutes then!"

Fifteen minutes later, Nancy parked in front of a two-story brick house that was set slightly farther from the street than its neighbors. Mrs. McGreevy stood on the porch, waving a thin arm at Nancy.

"You're late, dear!" the older woman called as Nancy made her way up the flower-lined walk.

"Yes, I'm sorry. Traffic held me up for a moment or two."

"Well, at least you're here now. Come on in!"

Nancy followed the woman through the doorway into a small foyer area. Wooden floorboards creaked under her feet as she followed Mrs. McGreevy through a short, narrow hallway into a brightly lit kitchen.

"Have a seat, dear, please." Mrs. McGreevy indicated a breakfast nook with two chairs and a small table. Nancy slid into one of the chairs.

"Lemonade, dear?"

"No, thank you."

"What about water? Iced tea? Cranberry juice?"

"Just water, thanks." As Mrs. McGreevy scurried about the kitchen preparing a glass of ice water for her, Nancy took the time to survey her surroundings.

The McGreevy kitchen was small, but meticulously clean. Nancy couldn't see a stray crumb anywhere, and the garbage was not visible. She could only assume it was kept in the cabinet under the sink, or in the small pantry, out of sight.

The kitchen appeared to have three doorways. One led to the hallway they'd just walked down. Another led to a small dining room and sitting area. The third appeared to be the back door of the house.

Mrs. McGreevy set a glass of ice water before her, and slid into the seat across from her in the breakfast nook. "Tell me about Mr. McGreevy," Nancy said, taking a small sip of her water. "Did he prefer any particular room in the house, or have any afternoon pastimes?"

"Oh, Hank usually just sat in the family room watching TV most afternoons. He loved to watch those documentaries and such on the History Channel. Occasionally, of course, he'd do something different on a weekday afternoon, but if he was going to leave home, he always left a note for me in case he wasn't back by the time I got home from the Women's Club."

"What sort of things would he leave for?"

"Oh, occasionally a friend or two would stop by and ask him out for a drink…Hank so rarely went drinking with friends, I never stopped him, though at his age…" Mrs. McGreevy frowned in disapproval. "And sometimes he went to help our daughter, Abigail, with home repairs."

"You have children, Mrs. McGreevy?"

"Yes, three. One son, Timothy, and two daughters, Abigail and Trixie. They're all grown now, of course. Abigail is in advertising, Trixie is a teacher, and Timothy…well, I can't say I approve of his career; he could've put that history major of his to good use, but…he works for a company that designs those scratch lottery games, you know of those?" Nancy nodded. "He doesn't get paid much, but he seems happy, so I guess it's for the best, though I do wish he'd found something more respectable."

"Is it possible that Mr. McGreevy could've gone to visit one of your children?"

"No, he would've left a note. And even if he hadn't, the children would have called if their father had come to visit."

"May I have your children's contact information, Mrs. McGreevy?" Nancy asked. Mrs. McGreevy shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"Why do you need to speak to them, dear?"

"Just in case your husband does contact one of them, and also to learn if they know of anywhere else your husband may have gone."

"Oh. Well. My children are very private people. And," Mrs. McGreevy gave a nervous cough. "To be honest, Abigail and I aren't exactly close anymore. She seems to feel that I stifle her."

Wonder why, Nancy thought sarcastically. Outwardly, she put on a sympathetic expression and queried about the nature of Mrs. McGreevy's relationships with her other children. To her surprise and relief, the other children got on a bit better with their mother than their sister.

After some coaxing, Mrs. McGreevy wrote down the information Nancy needed. "Thank you, Mrs. McGreevy," Nancy said as she tucked the paper into her purse. She glanced at her watch. "How about a tour of the downstairs area, and we'll call it a night, okay?"

The tour really didn't provide Nancy with any additional clues about the case, but she noticed Mrs. McGreevy visibly relaxing as she explained the histories of some of the furniture items downstairs.

After saying good night for the evening, Nancy moved down the front walk as quickly as she could. The moment she was in her car and headed home, she breathed a sigh of relief. People like Mrs. McGreevy were fine in small doses, as far as Nancy was concerned, but longer stretches of time were like torture.

A small part of her felt guilty for it, viewing Mrs. McGreevy in such a light. But people like that had grated Nancy's nerves since she was young; her tolerance of the woman now was a skill acquired only after several years of practice.

Once she was home, Nancy immediately got ready for bed. Her time spent at the McGreevy home had been exhausting. I only hope her children are a little easier to tolerate, she thought as she tumbled into bed. Well, she mused, yawning as she did so, guess I'll find out tomorrow.

A/N: A beta is someone who reviews the story for you before it goes up, to check for spelling/grammar/plot errors and offer suggestions on how to correct them.