DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Nancy Drew series or any of the characters. They are owned by other people who were ingenious enough to come up with the idea.

Chapter 07

"Why won't school end? Why, God, why!" George yelled, shaking her fist up to the heavens. "What have I done that was so very awful?"

"Well, there was that time that you almost burned your house down," Bess began, counting the incidents off on her fingers. "Then there was the time you decapitated my cabbage patch doll, the time you pushed me off the swings and knocked out both of my front teeth, the time you painted your dog blue, the time-"

"I think he gets the picture, thank you Bess," George said between clenched teeth.

"As long as it was clear," Bess replied, giving an obnoxious grin.

"Don't you have to, like, I don't know? Go cheer and stuff?" George asked in a valley-girl accent, pretending to flip her hair and bat her eyelashes.

"Okay, this is when George and I break off and I casually stop the brewing fight. Come on George. Physics time," Nancy said, pulling the cousins apart and heading down the opposite hallway than Bess.

When George and Nancy walked into their physics class, they found Harriet Bruner's feet draped comfortably over George's seat. One of her minions had done the same to Nancy's seat. They were talking and laughing loudly. Nancy sighed and shook her head, looking down at the girls, who ignored them. George took a different approach. She lifted her books over her head and dropped them so they slammed heavily on the tabletop. The girls jumped and looked over at them.

"Oh, I didn't see you there, Georgiana," Harriet said, twisting a lock of hair with her finger.

"Yeah, well, I can imagine. I know how hard it is for you to tear your eyes away from the mirror, Harry," George replied.

"My name is Harriet. My parents didn't play a cruel joke on me at birth," Harriet said, dropping all pretenses and glaring at her.

"Are you sure? I think that overdose of testosterone was kind of a cheap shot. Nice mustache, Tom Selleck."

Harriet's hand flew to her lip with a gasp and then she narrowed her eyes at George.

"Okay, this isn't funny. Could you please move your feet?" Nancy said calmly, rolling her eyes.

"What's wrong Nancy? Has the Mystery of the Imposing Feet stumped you?" Harriet mocked, cocking her head to the side and her minion Clarissa laughed from beside her.

"Seriously, man, how intimidated by us are you? It's really kind of sad," Nancy said.

"Intimidated by you? Ha! That's funny, Nancy Drew. You're a laugh riot. You think because you have this rich, lawyer dad that you can just boss everyone around. Well, you know what, you can't."

"Rich lawyer dad? Has that been the problem all this time? You're intimidated because my dad is a better lawyer than yours?"

"Poor Harry," George pouted, pretending to be concerned. Then she sobered. "Look, Nancy may be too nice, but I'm not." She shoved Harriet's feet off her chair and then turned a cold stare over at Clarissa and barked, "Move."

Clarissa's feet sunk off Nancy's seat and thumped to the floor. George sent her a fake smile.

"Thanks."

After school, George went to volleyball practice with Nancy and Bess went to cheerleading practice. They all changed and walked to the parking lot together. They waved and separated, Bess getting into her red Mini Cooper S Class, George getting into her Jeep, and Nancy getting into her roadster. When Nancy got home, she looked flipped to the back of the diary again and wrote all the names of the factories and companies Joe Swenson had bought supplies from. She logged online and started looking up their addresses in areas nearby Sandy Creek. She stopped as she recognized one of the addresses. Nancy pulled a paper out of her purse and looked at the address Baylor Weston had written down.

"Why hadn't I thought of that?" Nancy said, shaking her head for not putting Baylor Weston and Weston Electronics together.

He owned a factory in Stanford, and Nancy grinned. It wasn't that far from Sandy Creek. She had double reason to go. She could give Mr. Weston the bill for her car and she could see if they'd made any recent hires.

She heard the front door close and she got up, stuffing the phone numbers in her pockets. She came downstairs and kissed her father's cheek.

"Hi daddy," she said with a smile.

"Hi," Mr. Drew replied, giving his daughter a look. "I know that look. You cracked something."

"Wide open. Too open. In fact, I need your help," Nancy admitted.

"And I'm sure you'll get it, but for right now, I need your help, Nancy," Hannah said, pulling the girl away. "Please set the table."

During dinner, Nancy told her father Mrs. Swenson's story and about how Joe Swenson was the man she'd seen running from the fire. Mr. Drew listened carefully and at the end, agreed that things didn't look good for the Swenson.

"But he's innocent until proven guilty, right?" Nancy asked hopefully.

Mr. Drew gave a little laugh to himself as he stuck another forkful of chicken and potatoes into his mouth. He chewed carefully and then replied, "On paper, yes, but the police would make a very different assumption."

"What makes you say that?"

"They've decided for sure that the fire was caused by something, probably an explosion, though they don't know what caused it. Consequently, that means that the police are looking for who set the explosives off."

"I know that everything is pointing towards Joe Swenson, but, I really have a feeling that it wasn't him."

"Sweetie, you don't even know him."

"I know, but I know of him and I know his family. They're so convinced that he's a great person and I want to believe them. I think I do believe them."

"It looks like you're stuck in a pretty hard situation," Hannah murmured sympathetically, sending Nancy a warm smile.

"This whole thing… I think what you really need to do is talk to Felix Raybolt," Mr. Drew said after thinking hard for a minute.

"Raybolt?" Nancy asked.

"Yeah, this whole thing seems to go back to him. Joe Swenson went into business with him, then he was at his house when it began to burn. Now both Joe Swenson and Felix Raybolt are missing."

"Raybolt is missing?" Hannah asked.

"He hasn't been seen for weeks and no one can find him after the fire."

Nancy gave her father a look, then grinned. "I know that look. You cracked something, didn't you?"

"Well, as you know, I also have a case dealing with Raybolt, so I have a special interest in finding him."

"You found him?"

"Not exactly. I didn't find Raybolt, but I did find his wife. I think you should go visit her, Nancy, and see what you think. She's staying at the Maplecroft Inn. It's one of those fancy all inclusive summer resorts. See if you can get her to tell you where her ratty husband is."

Nancy grinned. "First thing tomorrow after school, I promise."

"Just be careful and tell me what you find out. I need to speak to the jerk myself," Mr. Drew scowled.

The next school day seemed to take forever. Nancy watched the clack, waiting anxiously for the last bell to ring. Luckily there was no practice today for the volleyball team, but the cheerleading squad had a meet. She had already asked George to go with her to see Mrs. Raybolt.

"She's in one of those luxury hotels that have a dining room and lunch room and stuff. She'll probably be eating there," Nancy explained as they drove up to see the woman.

"How do you get sucked into a marriage with someone that sleazy?" George wondered aloud. "How do you get sucked into marriage at all?"

"I bet you a thousand dollars that you'll be the first out of all of us to get married."

"Good, I can use the money."

They parked and walked into the gloriously furnished lobby of the hotel. Branching off to the left was the dining room. They were serving a late lunch. Nancy walked to the concierge and gave a sweet smile. His smile was less friendly, more pompous.

"Hi, I wanted to know if Mrs. Raybolt was in," Nancy said.

"We do not keep a record of what our guests do and when they come and go," the man said with an attitude and a thick French accent.

George scoffed, and Nancy made a little movement that clearly told her to shut up. "Well, do you know if she's in the dining room?"

"I certainly do not know whether or not Mrs. Raybolt is in the dining room."

"Well, can we go check?" George snapped.

"Are you a guest of this hotel?"

"No."

"Then, no."

"You're not even French are you?" George retorted, narrowing her eyes and leaning over the counter.

The man glared at her. "If you are not here to check in, I must have to ask you and your friend to leave before I call security."

George was about to say something, but Nancy grabbed her arm and smiled exasperatedly at the concierge. "Thanks for the help. We'll leave now."

When they got outside, George started apologizing.

"Look, I'm sorry," she began, "but that guy really-"

"That guy was a douche bag," Nancy fumed, cutting her friend off. "'Are you a guest?' Screw that, like that matters."

They were pouting on the wide wooden entrance to the hotel, still talking about what a jerk the front desk guy had been when a black Cadillac stopped under the breezeway to drop someone off. The chauffer got out hurriedly, an anxious, worried expression on his face. He pulled open the back door to the Cadillac and helped out a woman in her fifties.

She was a pretty woman with graying hair wrapped into an elaborate bun. She was pale and drawn, a nauseous look painted over her regal features. She was elegantly dressed and had the air of money. She leaned heavily on her chauffer's arm, breathing hard.

"Jesus," George murmured. "She looks really bad. Like if someone blew on her she'd fall over and shatter."

Nancy was about to say something when the woman stumbled. She instinctively jerked to help her, but the woman slipped over herself and collapsed on the front entrance of the hotel. In the span of a second, Nancy was on her knees next to the woman along with the chauffer. George stood uncertainly, rooted to her spot.

"Get some water. Quick!" Nancy barked back at George and she started and ran into the lobby.

"Oh God," the chauffer moaned. "Mrs. Raybolt!"