DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Nancy Drew series or any of the characters. This is based on the original series written by Carolyn Keene who was smart enough to make the whole thing up.

Chapter 03

"Nancy's got a new beau, Nancy's got a new beau," Bess sang as she walked in through the door.

Nancy snapped out of her daydream. "I do not have a new beau. Ned was just a really nice guy who did a really nice thing."

"What a load, even for you," George said, flopping into an armchair in the living room.

"For once in my life, I agree with George. Total load of crap. You were totally into him," Bess stated bluntly.

Nancy squared her shoulders and sat on the couch. "I was not. I was just grateful. He helped us out big time."

"He's amazingly hot. And he was totally into you."

"No he wasn't," Nancy scoffed.

"Please! Did you see the way he looked at you with those big blue eyes?"

"His eyes weren't blue, they were-" Nancy stopped as Bess and George broke out into laughter.

"You are so burned," George said as Nancy pouted.

"You know what, you can just- ow!" Nancy jumped up suddenly as something pricked her thigh when she moved on the couch. She fished for something in her pocket and pulled out the little leather book.

George leaned forward. "What's that?"

"I had forgotten about this after my whole car deal," Nancy said.

"That and the whole Ned Nickerson deal," Bess added.

"Well, now I'm not going to tell you. How do you like them apples?"

"I'm sorry, please," Bess pouted.

"Yeah. Bess is an idiot," George put in.

"Bit me, butthead."

"You first, butt munch."

"All right, I'll tell you if you both graduate from the fifth grade," Nancy said, waving her arms to stop the battle. "Remember when I told you to move the car?"

"Yeah," George responded.

"Well, I went around back and there was this guy that I thought was coming out of the building. He looked… I don't know, just not right."

"Creepy?" Bess suggested.

"No, like he didn't fit in the scene one way or another. I thought he'd been in the house, but when I called to him he either ignored me or didn't hear. He looked around, kind of like checking to see if anyone was there, and crawled through the back hedges. And, I know this sounds nuts, but I could've sworn he looked kind of familiar."

George sat back thinking. "And how does the book come in?"

"Oh, when the roof came in, I tried to get out of the smoke, ended up bruising the crap out of my knee, and I found it on the ground. Someone must have dropped that day before the fire." Nancy's eyes widened. "Maybe it's that guy's. The guy who went through the bushes."

"Could be," Bess said. "That means he had to have been at the front of the house at some point. Maybe someone saw him there and knows who he is."

"No, the neighbors are all too far away and if that's the case, why run?"

"So what are you saying? You think he could've started the thing?" George asked, eyebrow cocked.

Nancy shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe."

"Well, what if he was in the house and fell asleep while smoking or something," Bess said with a shrug. "He wakes up and, boom! The whole place is on fire, so he runs out."

"'Boom!' is exactly right. It couldn't have been something slow like a careless cig. Remember there was a huge explosion and then the house was up in flames all at once," Nancy said, shaking her head.

"Guess we'll have to wait until the police reports come in," George said. "Leave it to Nancy to try and figure out a random fire. That's what happens when your dad is a successful, sought-after defense attorney."

"What happens when your dad is a successful, sought-after defense attorney?" came a deep voice from the entrance of the living room.

The girls looked up to see Carson Drew unbuttoning his suit jacket and slinging it off his broad shoulders. Mr. Drew was a handsome man, tall and distinguished. He had his daughter's blue eyes and a distinctive face. His hair was going gray, but it looked good on him. Mr. Drew had been both father and mother to Nancy since her mother had died at age three.

He sighed. "So, how big a lawsuit do I have on my hands?"

"What, my car?" Nancy asked, kissing his cheek as he came into the room to say hello. "Someone rear-ended me. It's 'how big a bill does Mr. Baylor Weston have on his hands?'"

"Thank God. So tell me, what happened to your girls today? You look terrible," Mr. Drew said, scrunching his nose. "And you smell worse. Like smoke. Seriously, what happened?"

Between Nancy, George, and Bess, they managed to get the whole story out to him. He listened carefully, asking at the end if everyone was fine. They said that they thought no one was in the house, but no one was sure yet.

"That was a brave thing you did, Nancy," Mr. Drew said, head hanging.

"Thanks dad," Nancy said with a smile.

"Brave and stupid." The smile slipped off her face. "You could've gotten yourself killed. I don't ever want you to do something so irrational again."

Nancy lowered her eyes from his, but couldn't help saying, "Would you have just driven away?"

Mr. Drew floundered for a minute. "What I would've done doesn't matter, this is different."

"Why? It's only different because I'm your daughter."

Mr. Drew sighed. "Just… promise to be more careful, okay? And this Ned guy… is he on the level? You shouldn't be getting rides home from complete strangers."

"Ned is as far from a problem as you can get, dad, trust me."

Mr. Drew looked at Bess, then rethought it and looked at George, who nodded affirmatively. "Okay. Whose house was it, anyway?"

"Some couple named Raybolt," Nancy said.

"Raybolt? Felix Raybolt?" Mr. Drew snapped.

"Yeah I guess," she responded, confused at his reaction to the name. "Why? Do you know him?"

"Yes, I do actually. I just got in a case a couple of weeks ago."

"From this Raybolt guy?" George asked.

"No, from an Arnold Simpson who is suing Felix Raybolt."

"Suing? For what?" Bess asked, leaning forward, intrigued.

"Raybolt deals in patents. He finds new inventors, buys their patents, promises them the world on a string, then cashes in and laughs in their face. He basically gives them a deposit and leaves."

"How is that possibly legal," Nancy said. "He'd have a paper trail longer that the Nile."

"No paperwork. He somehow manages to get all these new inventors to agree with verbal promises."

"No wonder people don't like him," George put in raising her brows.

"No wonder in deed. Anyway, I'm beat. I'm going to take a shower and go to sleep." He kissed each of the girls' foreheads. "Nite."

"Nite," they chorused after him and watched him walked out.

"Okay, so, what's in the book?" George asked impatiently.

Nancy was looking over the little leather book with a furrowed brow. "I don't think it's a book."

"Oh, no, then what is it? A frog?"

"A diary," Nancy said, flipping it open.

George and Bess came over to look over her shoulder. Bess shook her head.

"I can't read it," she whined.

"No shit Sherlock, it's in a foreign language," George snapped, rolling her eyes.

"Eat me, George."

"I can't, it's too big a meal and I like lean meat anyway."

"Cut it out, guys," Nancy said. "Look, this is in English back here. Not that it helps. This is chicken-scratch. I can't read this either."

Just then, Hannah Gruen, the housekeeper came in. Hannah had lived with the Drew's since Nancy's mom had died and helped to raise the girl. Hannah was in her early fifties, with graying hair and brown eyes. She was plump and sweet, always knowing the right thing to say. Hannah smiled at the girls when they looked up at her.

"What are you three scowling at?" she asked, standing in front of them.

Nancy explained quickly, Hannah's brow furrowing. Nancy held out the diary as she finished and Hannah took it, looking down at it and flipping through a couple of pages.

"This is Swedish," she murmured.

"It is?" Nancy asked, taking the journal back and looking through it. "How do you know? Do you speak Swedish?"

Hannah laughed. "No. But, I have a friend who does. In fact, you know him, though you may not remember. His name is Mr. Peterson."

"Peterson? From that bakery you used to take me to when I was little? Awesome! Maybe he can translate it for me."

"Whoa, whoa…" George said, backing up. "You're going to read it? You? Nancy Drew. Little Miss Perfect committing an invasion of personal privacy? Sounds like something I'd do."

"If I don't read it, how can I find out who it belongs to? And if I don't know whose it is, how can I give it back?"

"Okay, now that sounds like something you would do. You scared me. I thought you were becoming, you know, a normal person or something."

Nancy made a face at her and put the book back into her pocket.

Nancy was the first one awake the next morning. She padded out of her room in pajamas, which consisted of a ribbed white tank top and lounge pants with planes on them. She yawned and headed downstairs. Her father had left some time ago to see to something about a case at the office. She sniffed at the air as she walked to the kitchen.

"Good morning," Hannah said, smiling at her.

"Morning, Hannah," Nancy replied and took in a deep breath. She looked down at the fresh baked muffins on the table. "What are these, blueberry?"

Hannah nodded.

Nancy paused before grabbing one as the doorbell rang. She yawned again and headed to answer it. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes as she swung open the door. Nancy's jaw dropped open and she stiffened as she saw who was standing on her porch.

"Ned?" she yelped. She regained control and plastered a look of nonchalance over her face as she casually smoothed her hair down. "It is Ned, right?"

Ned gave a devastatingly charming smile as if he believed her. "Yeah. And you're Nancy Drew. I guess you leave more of an impression than I do, but one can see why."

Nancy fought down a blush, smiling like a schoolgirl. She opened the door a little wider. "Do you want to come in?"

Ned nodded. "Sure, thanks."

Hannah had just walked into the hallway to see who was at the door. Nancy grabbed her arm and pulled her closer.

"Ned, this is Hannah. Hannah, this is Ned Nickerson, the guy that helped us out yesterday," Nancy introduced. The pair shook hands with smiles. "Um, I'll be right back, okay? Just one second."

Nancy turned and walked away, turning the corner and breaking into a run. She shot upstairs and burst into her room, tripping over George.

"Ow! Okay, that was my head," George groaned, rubbing where Nancy had kicked.

"What's going on?" Bess asked, coming in from the bathroom down the hall, combing her hair out.

"Nancy stormed in and kicked me in the head," George grumbled unhappily.

Nancy was hopping into a pair of her jeans and stumbled, leaning against her dresser. "Ned Nickerson is downstairs."

"What?" George exclaimed.

"Ned Nickerson?" Bess repeated. "From yesterday? As in really, really hot Ned that was totally checking you out?"

"Yes, gorgeous Ned, knee-weakening smile Ned, I-wish-I-had-hair-that-shiny Ned is downstairs," Nancy emphasized, whipping off the tank top and rummaging in her drawers for the red halter she loved. "So hurry up because you have to come down with me. Come on George!"

"Ow! What the hell is your problem?" George yelled rubbing the spot where Nancy had whacked her on the head. "I'm going. God."

Bess and George followed Nancy downstairs in their pajamas. Ned was in the kitchen with Hannah, making her laugh. He was complimenting her muffins when they walked and they looked at the girls. Hannah stood.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Ned. I hope I'll be seeing you around again soon," she said with a laugh.

He smiled at the housekeeper. "Now that I know that muffins this good exist, how can I stay away?"

He looked over at the girls when Hannah had disappeared.

"Hi," he said. "Nice jammies."

"Thank you, I'm fond of them," George said with a smile.

"So, Ned," Bess drawled impertinently. "What brings you by the lovely Drew estate?"

Nancy glared at her as Ned's grin widened.

"I was in the neighborhood-" Ned started.

"Really? That's odd seeing as you live all they way up in Mapleton about an hour and change away," George said, faking innocence.

"I was visiting my aunt in down here in River Heights, actually. Anyway, I was in the neighborhood and I remembered that Nancy had left her car at Mick's, so I thought I'd drop by and offer her a ride up there to go get it."

Nancy smiled. "Thanks, but George was actually going to drive me up."

"No I wasn't," George said.

"No she wasn't," Bess repeated.

Nancy turned to look at her. "Uh, yeah you were. You told me yesterday that you'd drive me up there."

George scoffed and rolled her eyes. "I was just kidding, Nancy. I didn't think you took me seriously."

"Well, its kind of hard not to when you said, 'no, seriously, I'll take you up there.'"

"Jesus, Nancy, you can never take a joke," Bess said.

Nancy turned to Ned with a tightlipped smile. "I guess we would appreciate a ride up there. Thanks again."

"We have to go home first," George said.

"What? Why not?" Nancy asked.

There was a pause and George elbowed her cousin in the ribs.

"Uuuh- because!" Bess practically shouted. "We don't have clothes to wear."

"Why don't you have clothes to wear? You knew you were staying at my house yesterday," Nancy grilled.

"Yes, we did know we were staying over last night… it's just that I…" Bess almost burst out crying, her voice wavering. "I couldn't decide what to wear. If I chose then, it was like making a day-long commitment to those clothes and I can't do that! There was so much pressure. Skirt or pants or shorts… It was just too hard Nancy! Too hard!"

George shrugged as Bess began to sob. "We're commitment phobic. It runs in the family."

Nancy sighed. "Okay, then we'll wait for you guys."

"Again with the pressure!" Bess cried. "I can't take it!"

"The decision could take hours," George said, rubbing her cousin's back as she wailed hopelessly. "Hey, here's an idea. How about you go with Ned and have breakfast… lunch… whatever, and we'll meet you at the garage later?"

Nancy looked at Ned who shrugged.

"I guess we'll see you," Nancy ground out and turned to plaster a fake smile on her face at Ned. "Thanks for the ride."

"No problem," he said again and as Nancy turned and walked down the hall, he mouthed, "thank you," at George.

George nodded and mouthed back, "You're welcome."

The two girls watched as they walked out of the house.

"Nice cover," George said to her cousin, still staring at the door.

"You too," Bess responded, looking at the door as well. "We're not just going to let Hannah's muffins go to waste, are we?"

"Hell no," George responded, leading the way back to the kitchen.