Chapter 11: Time in a Bottle
A/N: I apologize for not updating sooner. This chapter just did not want to be written. Also, part of this chapter is a little risque- it's pretty mild, as these things go, but it's more than I usually include. Blame Nancy and Joe. I could not talk them out of it.
"Hannah, help," Nancy said, wobbling into the kitchen on a pair of mismatched shoes. Hannah closed the oven door and straightened, looking at the younger woman. She chuckled.
"The left one," she said. "You'll be on your feet all night."
"I suspected as much," Nancy said glumly, "but the right one is sexier."
"Limping around with blistered toes isn't sexy," Hannah said archly. It was Nancy's turn to laugh.
"You are always right," she said, kicking off the higher-heeled right shoe. "I don't know what I'd do without you."
"Limp, probably," Hannah said. "When is Joe picking you up?"
Nancy glanced at the kitchen clock. "In about 20 minutes."
"You're ready early." Hannah looked her surrogate daughter over carefully. Nancy's hair was held back in an intricate braided updo, pinned with a pretty clip which had belonged to her mother; her dress was a simple deep purple v-neck with thin shoulder straps, fitted through the bodice, with a flaring knee-length skirt perfect for dancing. Nancy twirled a little and struck a pose.
"Do I look okay? Is the makeup too much?"
"You look beautiful," Hannah told her. "Very elegant. Are you nervous?"
"It's just Joe, Hannah. I've known him all my life."
"Then I suppose there's another reason for your jitters and that push-up bra."
"Too much coffee," Nancy said, choosing to ignore the comment on her choice of lingerie.
"Coffee makes you blush, now?"
"Hannah!"
Hannah smiled broadly. "I may just be the housekeeper, but I think I've solved this mystery," she said. "And there's the doorbell already. Seems Joe may have had a little too much coffee, too." She bustled off to answer the door, leaving Nancy in the kitchen to pull on her matching shoe, touch up her lipstick, and follow her out to the foyer. Hannah was still there, gathering up her coat and purse.
"You two have a good time," Hannah said, kissing Nancy's cheek on her way out. "I'm off to Bess and Tom's to watch the little ones."
"Thanks, Hannah. Good night!"
"Good night!" Joe echoed, opening the door for the older woman. He had barely closed it again when Nancy stepped forward. He met her halfway, reaching for her hands.
"Hello, beautiful," he said, leaning in to kiss her cheek.
"Hello, handsome."
"I feel like a kid going to prom," Joe confessed. "I've got butterflies and everything."
"You look incredible," Nancy told him. His everyday t-shirts and jeans did his athletic body justice enough; tonight, the combination of that body and his irresistable grin with an impeccably-tailored dark suit was stunning. He had somehow managed to retain all his innate joie de vivre while adding a layer of urbane sophistication. He looked, Nancy thought, like the kind of person capable of both conversing in fluent French with visiting dignitaries, and pushing her up against the wall of the alley behind a local bar. Her blush deepened at the thought.
"It's just the clothes," Joe said. His gaze traveled across her body slowly, as though he were savoring the pleasure. "All I had to do was throw on a suit. You probably spent all afternoon getting ready."
"Are you saying I needed a lot of work?"
He didn't rise to her teasing tone. "No. I'm saying you're gorgeous. You look like art. Everyone there is going to be jealous of me tonight."
"It's just the dress," Nancy said, echoing his words. Joe shook his head. He stepped closer and lifted a hand to trace his finger lightly along her jawbone, across her lips.
"It's the girl in the dress. It's the light in your eyes and the way you move and everything that makes you you." He pressed his lips to the pulse point in her throat, then grazed her skin with his teeth. "I'm tempted to blow off this whole thing and take you to bed." He bit down harder, sucking at the tender skin until Nancy twisted away from him, catching her breath.
"Everyone is going to see that."
"Good."
Nancy had never seen this side of Joe before, and despite herself she was responding to it. She didn't usually enjoy possessiveness- but Joe, she sensed, was not interested in owning her. She was not a pretty plaything to him. She was herself, a real person, and instead of finding that threatening he rejoiced in it. He knew she had the strength to match his intensity. Nancy shivered. The idea of staying home and exploring this mood was very tempting. After a momentary inner struggle she decided it would be more fun to draw things out, to make him wait.
"Joe," she whispered, "Let's go to the dance."
Joe kissed her, long and deep and persuasive. "Are you sure?"
"I'm sure." Nancy stood on tiptoes, pressing her body against his and winding her arms around his neck, and brought her lips very close to his ear. "I'm not opposed to spending some quality time in your truck between dinner and dessert."
Joe's eyes widened. "In that case, shall we?" he asked, offering her his arm.
Though they did not discuss it, Joe seemed willing to fall in line with Nancy's plans for a slow build-up. He helped her into the truck like a perfect gentleman and went around to his side, adjusting his tie as he went as though it were bothering him.
"Tell me about your case," he said as he turned the key in the ignition. Nancy smoothed her skirt over her thighs, sighing.
"Dead ends everywhere," she said. "I went out to see Sir Morgan this morning. He'd never called me back after the night Glenna disappeared, and I was starting to worry about him."
"You thought maybe he got kidnapped too?"
"I wasn't sure what to think. Anyway, it turned out he'd spent most of his time these past few days at the hospice center with his wife. Her health is failing badly. I caught him just as he was about to leave to spend the day with her." Nancy shook her head. "He looked awful, Joe. Tired and sad and older, somehow."
"Sitting with a dying person is exhausting," Joe said quietly.
"She's been dying for a very long time, apparently."
"Doesn't make it any easier. You can know it intellectually, but seeing it actually happen is always a shock."
"Especially under circumstances like these. I am more determined than ever to clear this case up quickly and give that poor man some relief." Nancy paused. "Anyway, I summed up my progress for him. He didn't have any idea where Glenna might be held and he did not recognize Amber's photograph. His spirits did seem to rise when I told him about Ryan."
"Good," Joe said. "Maybe having a grandson to care for will help him get through his grief."
Nancy glanced over at him. "There was one other thing. Joe, didn't you catch that vandal this week?"
Joe looked interested. "I did. Why? Don't tell me there's a copycat vandal at work already."
"Well, maybe. Sir Morgan mentioned he had spotted a trespasser last night down by the path to the old guest house. Apparently the guest house you can see from the road is actually the new one and there's a small, older house abandoned back in the woods behind the manor house."
"I think I knew that," Joe said. "Some of the kids from school used to sneak in there to smoke and stuff until one guy got bit by a snake. Did Sir Morgan call the police?"
"He did, but they told him this teenager had been causing trouble all summer and there wasn't much they could do unless he caught him red-handed. He's just supposed to keep an eye out and call if he sees the person again."
Joe looked annoyed. "Well, I definitely caught Spraycan Sam. Which, by the way, is about the dumbest nickname I've ever heard for a criminal, and he coined it himself. That boy is going nowhere fast. It is possible one of his idiot friends has decided to imitate him."
Nancy laughed. "Job security, Joe." She reached over and rested her left hand on his leg, playing idly with the inner seam of his trousers as she went on talking. "I stopped by the Bay View after leaving Sir Morgan."
"Returning to the scene of our crime? Bold move," Joe commented. If he was affected by her touch, he was not betraying it. Nancy slid her hand just a few centimeters higher and resumed her light stroking, one finger sliding up and down the ridge of the seam, her palm flat against the muscle of his thigh. Joe shifted, letting his left knee tilt out wider toward the door and sliding down a bit in his seat to push Nancy's hand higher. She pretended not to notice.
"I figured if Amber had been the one to search Rowena's room, it was possible she might have returned to use the place as a hideout. She knew it was unoccupied and could have bribed the clerk to keep her secret." She frowned. "I wish I knew that guy's name. Anyway, he's smarter than he acts. He put on a dumb show and blocked me out completely but I saw a nasty look in his eyes when he thought I wasn't looking. Finally I just had to leave there and head home to get ready."
Nancy had left the Bay View feeling very annoyed. She had stopped at Bess's house on her way home and had found her arguing with her husband over lunch.
"Nancy," Tom had said, sounding relieved. "Tell Bess she has to come to the dance tonight."
"Bess, you have to come to the dance tonight," Nancy had said obediently.
"I'm sorry, but my gingham frock is at the dry cleaner," Bess had said sarcastically. Tom had rolled his eyes.
"You see what I'm up against here?"
Nancy had pulled out a chair, sat astride it and rested her chin on its back, turning big, imploring eyes on her friend. "Please?" she had coaxed. "It's going to be fun. You need a night out."
"There's going to be a banjo. Possibly a mandolin. This is Bayport we're talking about, so there may even be bagpipes. My head hurts just thinking about it."
"Hannah is coming over to watch Myra and Ryan," Tom had said. "We can't change our plans now. That's just rude."
"He's right, Bess. Hannah's been looking forward to this all week," Nancy had said. Bess had groaned. Nancy, sensing weakness, had decided to play her trump card. "Besides, Joe and I are going and you haven't seen us together yet."
Bess had made an irritated sound and stood up, beginning to clear away the lunch plates. "Fine. Fine. I'll go."
Joe cut into Nancy's thoughts. "I have faith in you, Nan." He dropped a hand down to cover hers. "It always gets worse right before everything comes clear. Let's just have fun tonight and let your subconscious do its thing."
"You're right," Nancy said, smiling at him.
Joe swung the truck into a parking space and released his seatbelt so he could turn toward her. Before Nancy could withdraw her hand from his leg he dropped his own hand back down and captured hers, pressing it lightly against his leg.
"Are you just gonna tease, or do you plan to do something about it?" he said, sliding their joined hands another few inches up his thigh.
"Now what could I possibly have planned?" Nancy said innocently. She dropped her gaze to his belt buckle and licked her lips slowly, deliberately, breaking into a smile when she heard Joe's sharp intake of air. Her eyes flicked back up to his.
"Yes. Please," he said hoarsely, and Nancy immediately slid down to kneel on the floor of the truck. It was a bit cramped, but not terrible. His fingers tangled with hers as they both went to work on his belt and zipper.
"I don't mean to break the mood," Nancy said, stroking him lazily with her hand, "but do you have any napkins? We can't really afford to get messy right now."
"In the glove box," Joe said. "No. Shit. Don't try to turn around. Here." He pulled a handkerchief out of his jacket pocket and handed it to her. "For once Aunt Gert was right. That did come in handy."
Nancy, who had been doing marvelous things to him with her tongue, pulled back to laugh. She tipped her face up and Joe leaned in to kiss her, slow and deep and exquisite, while her hand busied itself between them. He finally moaned and pulled away and Nancy replaced her hand with her mouth. This was not an act she had much experience with- Ned had found it distressing, demeaning even, and Sergei had never suggested it- and she pulled back to tell him so. Joe seemed to be enjoying himself. His head lolled back, eyes closed; his hands were clenched into fists at his sides in an effort to keep himself from spoiling her hairstyle. "Oh, hell," he panted. "You're doing fine. Don't fucking stop now." Reassured, Nancy resumed operations. She picked up the rhythm of it after a moment and began to enjoy the experience. Joe, always vocal, moaned out incoherent endearments and encouragement until the very last, when his brain failed him.
Breathing hard, Joe reached for the handkerchief and wiped her mouth before cleaning himself off. His eyes were filled with tenderness. He pulled her up into his lap for a long, sweet kiss.
"That was incredible. You are a surprising girl, Nancy Drew."
"Surprising?"
"Public sex acts don't really fit your image."
"Oh, we've danced pretty close to this line before. Do the words 'Bay View Motel' ring any bells?" Nancy reminded him. "Or 'your driveway'?"
"Good point." Joe kissed her again, harder this time. "Your turn," he murmured, slipping a hand up her skirt.
"Not yet," Nancy told him reluctantly. He raised an eyebrow at her.
"Nan?"
"I don't want to rush it," she said, knowing he'd understand. He did. He moved his hands to more neutral locations on her body and gave her another thousand-year kiss, slow and deep and full of promises.
They sat together for a few minutes, catching their breath. Finally Joe sighed.
"Are we decent enough to go in?"
Nancy looked him over, straightened his tie and smoothed his hair. "Good as new. Am I okay?"
"You're beautiful. I think I'm wearing most of your lipstick, though," Joe said, fishing her clutch up from between the seat and the center console and handing it to her. Nancy quickly touched up her lipstick while Joe came around to open her door.
"Look, here comes Frank. We're not even late," he said happily.
They waited for Frank and Callie to park and the four young people all walked in together. Nancy was surprised to see more than a few men wearing kilts, including Police Chiefs Collig and McGinnis and George's date, a handsome volunteer firefighter named Regan.
"Bess warned me about this, but I didn't realize the Scottish heritage ran so deep in this area," she said. "I thought you said it'd be a square dance?"
"Part square dance, part ceilidh," Frank said from her other side.
"It's lots of fun," Callie told her. "Frank and I have been coming for five years now. It's one of my favorite dates."
Nancy turned to Joe. "So where is your kilt?" she asked, eyes twinkling. He grinned down at her.
"Torn from my fleeing body by a horde of screaming women last year. The sight of my manly calves drove them wild."
"I see Chet and Elvira. There's our table," Frank said, ignoring his younger brother's outrageous ego. He seemed a bit tense, Nancy noticed. George and Regan soon joined them, completing their table.
The dinner was excellent and the conversation, as a whole, was merry. Chet was back to his usual self. He brought Nancy a colossal slice of pie from the buffet and apologized several times for the way he'd talked to her on the phone.
"Chet, it's okay. I'm just glad you weren't more badly injured," Nancy assured him.
Bess, bored and grumpy, raised her eyebrows at Nancy during a lull in the conversation. "You two are so cliche. Couldn't you keep your hands off each other until after dinner, at least?" Joe shot Nancy a surprised look across the table and Nancy just shrugged. Bess always knew. She had some kind of sixth sense about intimacy.
"Look at him, Bessie. Can you blame me?" she said lightly, scooping half her pie onto Bess's plate. Bess half-smiled in spite of herself.
"I'm sorry, Nan. I didn't mean to snark at you. I guess I'm just a little jealous that we're not in that can't-get-enough-of-each-other stage anymore." Bess reached over and grabbed her husband's hand. "Not that I don't love you, sweetie. You know what I mean."
"Yeah, I know," he said affectionately.
"Relationships evolve," Nancy said. "It's not a bad thing. You two have a history together, a family. You've survived the impetuous early days and now you're- oh, this will sound so cheesy, but you're like a river, running deep, your course set." She shook her head a little, impatient with herself for sounding like a bad greeting card, but when she looked at her friends she saw that both Bess and Callie looked teary-eyed and Chet's date was nodding thoughtfully.
"Thanks," Bess said softly. "That helps."
After dinner the music started. The musicians were excellent and the music caught Nancy up, bagpipes and fiddle and guitar making her blood sing through her veins. Exhilarated by the music and companionship, Nancy felt as though she could dance forever. They danced round dances and the Siege of Ennis and the Stack of Barley and square dance after square dance. Faces flashed by: George and Callie taking their places on either side of her in a round dance, Joe linking arms with her to promenade, Fenton Hardy and Frank and Regan and Chief McGinnis handing her courteously through the steps. At one point she spotted Ned, who was not wearing a kilt, dancing nearby with his Emily. In her elevated state Nancy just smiled at him and he smiled back, offering her his friendship at last. Though she would have been happier if Bess had been in a better mood, all in all Nancy was breathless and delighted (and thankful for Hannah's sensible shoe advice).
As the evening wore on, Chet, still suffering from guilt, collected Nancy to dance a rather mechanical Virginia Reel. His brow was furrowed in concentration and he still managed to miss most of the steps, giving him further cause for apologizing. He was terribly sweet, but between his errant feet and his emotional burden it was an exhausting dance. Nancy was happy to hand him back over to Elvira DeGroot when it was over. The musicians segued into a waltz and Joe took her into his arms. Nancy smiled her relief and Joe laughed.
"Our pal Chester still trying to make nice to you?"
Nancy shuddered. "He dances like a wind-up toy. I wish he'd just believe me that I'm not offended."
Joe twirled her playfully, pulled her back into his arms. "I liked what you said to Bess," he told her.
"Ah, yes. I'm thinking I should quit detecting and offer my services to the Hallmark company," she said dryly.
"It's not really possible to say that kind of thing without sounding funny," Joe said. "There aren't enough words for things as real as that."
Nancy turned her face up and kissed him gently. "I'm glad you understand." They swayed together for a few measures before Joe bent and rested his forehead on hers.
"In light of all that, do you think our relationship is too shallow?"
"You mean, do I think we are too physical?"
"Yeah."
"I'm happy, Joe. I meant what I said about relationships evolving. We won't always be this- this primal, I guess is the word. And I'm really enjoying it. We connect on every level. I don't feel bad about enjoying the physical side of things."
"That's a relief," Joe said, "because it would suck trying to hold back now."
"Especially since, if I am not mistaken, it is still my turn," Nancy teased.
"Hey, you know where we parked. Just give me a nod and I'll meet you out there anytime," Joe said with a grin. "Just not right after this song."
"What happens right after this song?"
"That mission is classified," he said seriously, and he refused to divulge any further details. When the waltz ended, he escorted her to a spot where she had a good view of the dance floor, told her to stay put, and bounded off through the crowd. Nancy saw him conferring with Frank for a moment before she lost him in the milling throng. He reappeared a few minutes later next to the stage. The musicians were taking a break but the guitarist, who had seemed to be waiting for someone, smiled at him and handed over his guitar before stepping offstage. Joe vaulted up and approached the microphone, adjusting the guitar strap as he went.
"This song goes out by special request to my best friend and his girl," he said briefly. He closed his eyes for a moment and then his fingers were picking out the introduction to "Time in a Bottle" and his voice picked up the tune, delivering the simple and beautiful lyrics in a sincere way that gave Nancy goosebumps.
If I could save time in a bottle
The first thing that I'd like to do
Is to save every day till eternity passes away
Just to spend them with you.
Many people started dancing again. Nancy, suddenly realizing what was going to happen, scanned the crowd for one particular head of dark hair. She found her target just as he dropped to one knee in front of Callie Shaw. At that distance she could not hear what either one of them said, but the smile on Callie's face and the long embrace that followed told her everything she needed to know.
Awareness of what had happened spread out like ripples through the crowd; Joe's song ended in a swell of applause and a flurry of well-wishers converging on the couple. Nancy caught Joe's eye across the room and blew him a kiss before he jumped down to hand the guitar back to its owner. Several teenagers flocked toward him to congratulate him on his performance, their lithe bodies blocking him from Nancy's view- and suddenly, it all clicked. A slight figure, half-seen in the fringe of the woods...what if Sir Morgan had been looking at Amber, not a teenaged vandal? Amber was very slim and she wore her hair short. What if she had been living in the old guesthouse? Filled with excitement, Nancy grabbed her clutch and headed for the exit. She would text Joe once she got clear of the crowd; that would be easier than making her way in to extract him.
Outside, Nancy took a deep breath of cool air and reached for her phone. Subconscious successful, she tapped out. Meet m-
"Get back inside," a voice said, startling her. "I don't want to watch you guys in action."
Nancy dropped her phone back into her bag without hitting "send" and turned to see Bess leaning against the "No Smoking" sign posted on the side of the building, a lit cigarette in her hand. She really was in a foul mood, then. Bess only smoked when she was truly upset.
"No, no," she said quickly. "I'm not out here for sex. Are you okay, sweetie?"
"Yeah, I'm just sulking." Bess took a last drag on her cigarette and stubbed it out. "If this isn't a rendezvous, what are you doing out here?"
"I had an epiphany!" Nancy frowned. "And I've just had another one: I didn't drive myself here. If I take your car can you guys get a ride home with George?"
"You're not waiting for Joe?"
Nancy headed out into the parking lot, Bess trailing in her wake. "No time. It's a mob in there; Frank just proposed to Callie-"
"What?"
"Hey, that's what you get for moping around. You miss stuff. Where'd you guys park?"
"Over there, but Nan, I don't have the keys."
"Shit." Nancy swivelled back toward the building, pulling out her phone to finish her text to Joe. Before she could begin typing a familiar flash of blonde caught her eye at the gas station next door. Bess saw it, too.
"Amber!" Bess shrieked, charging off in that direction remarkably fast despite her 6-inch heels. "Amber, you bitch! Get over here!"
"Bess, no!" Nancy cried, running after her. Free of Bess's maternally-fuelled tunnel vision, and she could see that Amber was not alone. The desk clerk from the Bay View was with her. As the girls approached he calmly finished replacing the gas cap on Amber's car and reached into his pocket for what Nancy instinctively knew was a handgun.
"Bess!" Amber cooed with false friendliness, stepping forward. "Hey, girl, how nice to see you! And Nancy too!"
Bess slowed, stumbling. There were tears on her face, but they were tears of anger. "How could you do that to your own baby? He's been crying for his mother and I had no idea what to tell him!"
Amber's face hardened. "He won't remember it. This whole thing is almost over. Get in the car, girls."
Nancy, half-concealed behind Bess, reached for her phone again. Jimmy-or-Timmy jerked the gun toward her.
"Drop it, lady."
"You'd better listen to him," Amber said. "Both of you, drop your purses." They did. "Now get in the damn car."
"No," Bess said defiantly. Her face was a mask of fury, tears, and mascara.
"Bess," Nancy said gently, touching her friend's arm. Bess yanked away.
"No! I've been comforting her child for two days now and the bitch doesn't even care! Fuck you, Amber. You might not care about Ryan but you are not taking me away from my child."
Amber ignored her. "Ashley?" she said, turning to her accomplice.
Ashley? His name is Ashley? Nancy's brain barely had time to register this puzzling bit of information before the man stepped forward, turning his gun around in his hand. His arm raised; Nancy saw a triumphant smirk on his face, felt a sharp blow, and knew nothing but darkness.