Nancy lay awake in the single bed, listening to Addie breathe. She was okay. The swelling of her wrist had gone down under a cold cloth. The fan in the corner rattled, droning as it swept back and forth across the room.

The first night in the apartment house, Nancy had never been more afraid in her life.

For the first time, she had directly disobeyed her father. She had told him that she would be with Helen Corning Archer and her husband, traveling for a few weeks or a month, and her father had given her money to cover the cost of hotel rooms, incidentals, anything else she might need while she was gone. What he didn't know was that the suitcase she had so carefully packed for the trip was mostly undisturbed, because at the apartment house, she wasn't Nancy Drew. She was Ruth Miller.

Ruth Miller had found Addie Carew and told her that she was working with Carson Drew, and asked Addie to tell her about her problem.

And Addie had poured it all out, over a cup of weak tea at a downtown diner. She had come to Chicago looking to earn some money, to make her way to New York, and the waitressing jobs had eventually led to her taking a job as a backup singer.

Then Addie had attracted the attentions of a few handsome men, and that had been exhilarating—but one of them, one of them was more intense than the rest. He had piercing eyes and a hot temper, and at first, his possessiveness and desire had been charming. He had showered her with flowers and gifts; his nickname for her was Lola, and that was what he called her.

Then she had told him her dream of going to New York, and he had told her. You're not going anywhere. You're staying, with me.

After that, if Shay—the guy who had become obsessed with her—perceived or even sensed that another guy was paying any attention to her, he flew into a rage. He wanted to know where she was at all times. He found out where she lived; one night when she came home, items in her bedroom had been moved. He had been there. She hadn't understood how, not without a key.

Then she had gone out with a few of her visiting cousins. Even then, she had been wary of him. Reassuring him, calming him down was still the easiest thing for her to do, but it was more difficult. She had come home with her cousins and Shay had been there, two guys behind him. They had guarded the door. Shay had dragged her into the bedroom by her hair. There had been no reassuring him or calming him down.

And through her swollen, slitted eyes, through the pain that was so horrific that it almost felt like her entire body was screaming, Shay had told her not to bother going to the police; no one was going to listen to her or care. She was nothing. She belonged to him.

That was when she had seen the badges the men were wearing, the bodyguards who had kept her cousins from responding to her screams and pleading. The cops knew what Shay was doing, and they didn't care. They wouldn't help her. Not when they were helping him.

The hospital bill had wiped out Addie's small savings, and by the time she was able to make it back to work, once her face was healed enough to be covered by makeup, her boss was stern with her. Shay was in the state's attorney's office, and if he decided to, he could have the speakeasy where Addie performed shut down. It was in her boss's best interests to keep him happy. And Addie was part of keeping him happy.

Addie knew she needed to get out, but she was terrified and broke. If she stayed with a friend, Shay found her. Addie became concerned that he was following her everywhere, even to Carson Drew's office; she had gone to him because she had heard that he might be able to help her. But he hadn't been able to immediately come up with a plan of action, just a suggestion that she get out of town until he could launch an investigation into the man who was abusing her. When Addie had met "Ruth," she had been at the end of her rope.

And so Nancy had taken her, disguised, to an apartment building on the other side of town, and registered under a false name to keep Shay from finding them easily. Because Nancy couldn't do much all by herself, she had decided to try for a job at the speakeasy too, just so she could help keep Addie safe. Nancy had no doubt that her father would find a way to help Addie, but as he had pointed out to her, the corruption that meant Shay could use police bodyguards when he went to beat up his girlfriend meant that pursuing the case would be tricky. They would cover for him.

And Addie was stuck. Shay told Addie, Lola, that he loved her so much, and he had never meant to hurt her. If she didn't make him so angry, he wouldn't lose his temper.

Nancy had never known anyone who behaved the way Addie described. To her shame, she had believed that maybe Addie was exaggerating a little—until she had seen Shay's behavior for herself. The first night Nancy had escorted Addie to their new apartment, she had sensed that they were being followed for a long time; only by paying for tickets and ducking into a theater, then disguising themselves and coming out in a large crowd after, had they managed to lose the guys chasing them.

Addie couldn't leave, but she couldn't stay. And unless she went back to work, she couldn't make the money to leave.

And Addie wanted Shay to be punished for what he was doing to her—but she was also terrified. If she could get out, she would, but unless she had enough money to buy a place to live and food once she actually made it to New York, something to keep her going until she landed a job, she would just end up in a worse situation. And that, she didn't want. At least Shay was a known quantity; at least if he found her, all she had to do was try to reassure him...

But Nancy had seen the doubt in Addie's eyes as she had said it. When Shay's temper raged out of control, there was no reason.

While Nancy loved Bess Marvin dearly, when she considered letting one of her closest friends in on what she was doing, she had to admit to herself that Bess was not quite equal to this task. Bess was comforting, but in a physical confrontation, she often needed to be protected instead of providing protection herself. Bess was tenderhearted and Nancy valued her friendship, but she decided that in this particular case, George Fayne would be a better assistant.

George was no nightclub singer, though. Nancy had been shocked when the man who owned the speakeasy had given Ruth the backup singer job, but according to Addie, he was much more taken with Ruth's looks than he let on, and he was willing to overlook her woeful lack of experience. All the backup singers really were, according to Addie, was ornamentation anyway. The lead singer was the real focus of the attention, and the praise.

And Shay.

George was under strict orders to keep her activities with Nancy secret, and since Nancy was supposed to be on vacation with Helen and Mr. Archer, George couldn't exactly say she was helping Nancy with one of her investigations. Some nights George wasn't able to get away and help serve as Addie's bodyguard. And this was one of those nights.

Nancy sighed and turned onto her side. She had been over the problem so many times, but she had to admit that her father's caution made sense. If Nancy could find evidence of what Shay had done to Addie, or even convince her to make a statement—she didn't know who Addie could make that statement to. City policemen could make her statement vanish; worse, they could report to Shay that Addie was accusing him of brutality, and he could retaliate. Nancy's father had friends in the state's attorney's office, but Shay's influence meant those friends might be reluctant to help Addie. She had no highly influential friends, and she didn't have a high profile. If she vanished, her family and friends would know, but even her disappearance was unlikely to result in Shay's punishment. Addie had known a girl last year who had disappeared and been branded as a runaway, but Addie had said the girl would never have run away from her younger brothers and sisters. Something awful had happened to her, and the city had swallowed her.

Nancy had spent many happy afternoons and evenings in Chicago, shopping with her friends, sharing a meal with her father. She had known it was a dangerous place. But she had never imagined anything like the situation Addie lived in: afraid to be spotted by the very men who had sworn to protect her, trapped in a low-paying job that put her directly in the crosshairs of men who sought to exploit her.

If Nancy caught Shay in the act of some other crime...

But who could she tell? Her father would have to be very careful who he trusted with Addie's story, and if Shay became suspicious of Ruth, Nancy wouldn't have anyone to turn to. She was already nervous about how her own father would react to what she was doing.

If only she could talk to him. He had always been an incredible sounding board and source of information. She missed him; she missed Hannah and Bess, too. She missed being able to sleep soundly, without waking at each slight sound, convinced that Shay had finally found them.

As Nancy took a few long, deep breaths, trying to calm herself down so she could go to sleep, she thought back at the advice her father had given her when she was in school. Shay was a bully, pure and simple. He depended on his influence and his bodyguards, and Addie's fear and defenselessness, to keep him safe.

A bully, her father had taught her, was a coward. When the victim stood up to the bully, he or she often stopped their bullying—or selected a new target for their violence. It was an imperfect solution, and Nancy hoped that if Shay did decide to pick on anyone else, he accidentally chose someone who could stand up to him. But Addie wasn't that person. And Ruth didn't have nearly the influence that Nancy Drew or Carson Drew did.

Shay was a bully and Nancy couldn't come down on him with the full weight of the law. She couldn't walk into a police station and make a statement that she had seen Shay injure Addie's wrist, or that she had heard Shay threaten Addie. It was too much of a risk.

Nancy had met many police officers in her life. Some of them were helpful, some less so until they realized that she wasn't just a busybody who made up stories to hurt people. In Chicago, at least, her reputation would have some influence. But she just came back around to the threat of retribution.

If the law wasn't a refuge—and Nancy could see no clearer sign of that than her father's caution about the case. She needed a faster solution, before Addie was hurt badly—or worse.

To stand up to a bully, one need be fearless.

As much as Nancy hated to admit it, she was afraid—not of Shay, but of what he could do.

That made Nancy's thoughts drift back to a few hours earlier. She had been terrified that Shay would effectively imprison Addie in that room and prevent her from coming back to the apartment, and that was still a possibility. The only person she had ever seen stand up to Shay—and she had definitely been paying attention—was the tall, dark-haired man with the intense dark eyes she had seen sitting at his table. He hadn't been one of the cop bodyguards; he had been with Ben Riscetti and his gang. Nancy hadn't learned the rest of their names yet, but she recognized Riscetti; her father had been working with the state's attorney's office when Riscetti had been charged. Riscetti's case had been just one straw in the several thousand that had broken the camel's back, as far as Carson Drew was concerned. Nancy had been much younger then.

And Riscetti's gang wasn't known for mercy, or for helping little old ladies cross the street so they could get to church. That was the way Hannah liked to phrase it, in that ominous voice, anyway. They were hard men, and Shay fit right in with them.

But one of them had stood up to him. If he hadn't, Nancy wasn't sure how the night would have ended. Doris, the other singer who had been in the dressing room with them, had been entirely helpless and terrified when Shay had tried to follow Addie into the dressing room. Nancy and Addie had snuck out as soon as they could, with Addie cradling her injured wrist.

The idea, when it came to her, was repugnant. Shay was a violent man in league with violent men. Nancy couldn't count on policemen to protect Addie. But if a member of Riscetti's gang was convinced that he had violated their code or threatened them, or turned on them... then a man like the one who had stood up to him earlier that night would approach him in the dark, and Addie's problem would be solved.

Nancy's eyes popped open. She stared into the darkness beside the small bed, a sudden chill passing over her.

She couldn't take such responsibility into her own hands. As reprehensible as she found Shay's behavior, her father had instilled a sense of justice and fairness in her, and that was what Addie deserved—justice. And not the vigilante kind.

The dark-haired man had stood up to Shay before. If she approached him and said that Shay's behavior was threatening Riscetti's business, that might be enough. She could say that Carson Drew was investigating, but he might be persuaded to let the matter go if Shay never approached or threatened Addie again.

Her instincts told her that it would be dangerous to approach any of them; worse, all she knew about the dark-haired man was that he had replied to Addie's cry for help. But maybe that was enough. She was equally sure that she couldn't approach him at the speakeasy, not when he was around Riscetti's gang, and definitely not around Shay.

But she was too tired to puzzle through it tonight. She kept it in the back of her head as she let her eyes flutter closed again, happy to at least be resolved about something, finally. She had felt so powerless and ineffectual to help Addie for so long that even the barest trace of a hope was better than nothing.