Chapter 7: Adrenaline

Nancy didn't always have the luxury of choosing what clothes she'd be wearing when a case turned active. She'd been taken captive in an evening gown, had run for her life in a skirt and heels, had attempted a bit of stealthy investigating in flip-flops and a bikini. Tonight, however, she was able to plan ahead; she dressed with deliberation, choosing her clothes as though it were a ritual. Jeans. Grey tennis shoes, a bit shabby with wear but molded exquisitely to her feet. A dark grey scoop-neck t-shirt, a blue baseball cap to cover her distinctive strawberry-blonde hair, a serviceable weatherproof wristwatch. She slipped the earrings from her ears and her mother's sterling silver claddagh ring from her right hand, dropping them carefully into a little ceramic dish on her dresser. A familiar feeling, part nervous energy and part joy at using her abilities, was building inside her. This must be what a bird in the air feels like: complete, all potential fulfilled.

Joe was waiting in the parking lot, Pink Floyd's "Wish You Were Here" floating out the open window of his truck. When she saw him her heart gave a ridiculous flutter; she felt like a cliche but he looked so good in his tight black t-shirt she couldn't help but stare. As she pulled up he cut off the music, pocketed his keys, and hopped out to open Nancy's car door for her. When she stepped out he put one hand on her waist and leaned in for a kiss.

"That's a first. I don't usually greet colleagues like that." He seemed a little nervous. Nancy took a deep breath to steady herself.

"Maybe you just haven't been working with the right people," she said flippantly, taking a step away from him to help them both focus. Maybe this was a mistake, thinking we could work together, she thought. It was a simple job, in and out with next to no chance of complications, but distraction could still prove dangerous. They needed clear heads, not hormones and confusion. It didn't help that this was the first time they'd seen each other since the night of the storm.

"Still driving that lemon?" Joe asked, nodding at her loaner car.

"Chet said I probably won't get the convertible back till Thursday. It's been rough," Nancy said, relieved to turn to a less emotionally-charged subject.

"That sucks," Joe said sympathetically. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out an orange-and-white striped knit cap, which he pulled down tight over his blond hair. Nancy raised one eyebrow.

"The word is unobtrusive, Joe."

"This is a patented Joe Hardy technique," Joe said earnestly. "See, if we get compromised and have to get away from the scene, all any witness is going to remember is this hat. I ditch the hat, we saunter away looking casual, we're golden."

"Until Aunt Gertrude finds out what became of the hat she so lovingly knit for you," Nancy said.

"Well. Every plan has its risks." Joe leaned back against his truck, hooking his thumbs in his belt loops. "So what's the plan, Captain Drew?"

"Room 23. In, quick search, out before anyone gets suspicious."

"Objective?"

"Personal letters, a stack of five. Last seen in their original envelopes, held together with a blue rubber band."

Joe nodded to show he'd heard. He was staring out across the parking lot, studying the layout of the motel. The building rose only two stories; the lobby area was situated at the far left end of the ground floor, and the sagging steps leading up to the balcony walkway of the second floor were at the opposite end of the building.

"This is going to be too easy," he said.

"Don't jinx it!"

"Second floor, right?" He glanced over, waiting for her nod. "Okay. I'm ready if you are."

Nodding again, Nancy grabbed his hand and led the way toward the Bay View. When they reached the motel parking lot they kept to the far end, walking just outside the reach of the lights. Joe wrapped an arm around Nancy's shoulders and paused halfway across the lot to kiss her, acting the part of a couple wrapped in their own little world. Nancy kissed back hard, feeling her adrenaline surge again. Joe was laughing when he broke away. He squeezed her hand, communicating his joy and letting her know that he was as much in his element as she was. With his hand in the small of her back they climbed the wobbly stairs to the second floor. Joe scanned for security cameras while Nancy slid her lockpick out of her pocket, concealing it between her palm and thigh as she stepped up to the door of Room 23.

"Nada," Joe whispered. "This place is a dump."

"No light in the window," Nancy whispered back, pressing her ear to the door. "No sound either."

"I've got your six, Captain," Joe told her, pretending to whisper into a walkie-talkie. "You're good to go. I repeat, you are good to go. Hardy out."

Nancy rolled her eyes. "Stop playing G.I. Joe and get over here."

Joe stepped over and wrapped his arms around her from behind, burying his face in the side of her neck, disguising the delay as she manuevered her lockpick as the lock-and-key fumblings of a distracted and amorous couple. Fortunately, the Bay View had not upgraded to keycard readers. Nancy was a little out of practice, but after an anxious minute she felt the lock pop. Joe reached around her to turn the knob and let the door swing open.

"Open sesame," he whispered. The young detectives stepped into the room, keeping their footsteps light. As soon as she heard the door click shut Nancy switched on her keychain flashlight, keeping the beam low as she swept the room.

"Clear," she said with relief. A second beam of light joined hers. Joe whistled.

"This is bad even by Bay View standards." The room was trashed. Whoever had found the ring had been in a destructive mood. The bed was torn apart, sheets and blankets strewn across the floor, pillows and mattress slashed. The nightstand lay on its side with its drawer on top of it. Cosmetics were smashed and ground into the bathroom floor. The door to the medicine cabinet dangled from one hinge.

"We're late to the party," Nancy said. While they searched the wreckage, she told Joe about finding the ring.

"So it's possible what we're after isn't even here anymore," Joe said, climbing onto the desk chair to pop out a ceiling tile and check the space above.

"It's one possibility. I don't know that Rowena was keeping the ring or the letters hidden in this room, so I don't know where my suspect acquired the ring."

"Why would she have hidden such personal stuff in a motel room?"

"Well, she didn't know she wouldn't be coming back for it," Nancy said, digging through the pile of clothes spilling from an overturned suitcase.

"No dice," Joe said, hopping down from the chair. "I wish I'd thought to bring my night vision goggles."

"You have night vision goggles?"

"Is that so unusual?"

Nancy didn't answer. Her flashlight beam had just glinted off the plastic casing of a laptop computer buried deep at the bottom of the suitcase. She pulled it out, heart pounding. "Got something."

"The letters?"

"No, a laptop. But this could be very useful."

"Take it along," Joe advised. "I think it's time we skedaddled."

"I know," Nancy said, taking one last look around the room. They had checked everywhere. At least the frustration of not finding the letters was balanced by the excitement of finding the laptop. She killed her flashlight and Joe followed suit.

"Come on," he said softly, fumbling for her hand in the dark. When he found it Nancy yielded to temptation and used it to yank him closer. She pressed up against him and pulled his face down for a kiss, pouring all her nervous energy and excitement into it.

"Is that how you want to play it?" Joe said. Nancy bit his lower lip, goading him to respond in kind, and was rewarded when he picked her up roughly and pinned her against the wall. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he kissed her, channeling the same mixture of adrenaline and joy and arousal back to her until they were both dizzy and panting.

"Come home with me," Joe said, kissing her just behind her left ear.

"Yes," Nancy said breathlessly. "But don't put me down."

"Sorry, Captain." He broke free of her thighs and set her down gently. "You can punish me later for my insubordination. Let's go."

The drive back to Joe's apartment took every last shred of Nancy's patience- and evidently it demolished Joe's, too, because as soon as she pulled into his driveway and parked behind his truck he was on her, opening her car door, picking her up again and pushing her back against the side of the car and kissing her dizzy all over again. They only broke apart when the front door light came on suddenly, startling them.

"Frank!" Joe said, making a run for the door. Nancy trailed in behind him, re-hooking her bra underneath her shirt, and found Joe pursuing Frank through the kitchen. Callie was standing in the hall, watching the whole thing resignedly.

"Hi," Nancy said.

"Hi yourself," Callie replied with a smile. She looked Nancy over, taking in her disheveled hair and bruised lips. "Good date?"

"Breaking and entering," Nancy said, smiling back. "Call off your Frank, please. Things were just getting good."

"Frank!" Callie called out obligingly. Her boyfriend released Joe from the wrestling hold he had him in and returned to her side. "I think we should retire tactfully to your bedroom and give these two some space," Callie suggested sweetly.

"I thought I told you I didn't want to know about your activities," Frank grumbled at Nancy. But he let Callie lead him into his bedroom and shut the door.

"Joe," Nancy said.

"Nancy." His arms were around her again, his lips brushing her eyes, her cheeks, her neck. Nancy's fingers started working the button of his jeans free from its buttonhole and Joe reciprocated by releasing her bra clasp again, their urgency growing.

"Let's find another wall to pin you against," he growled into her ear.