AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey guys, I'm back! I know that when this story first started I had a new chapter up almost every day, but work has been getting crazy and I'm slowing down. that and the new semester at school just started. AG! Crazyness. Anyway, thanks for all the support and please, if you like what you see, TELL ME! Enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Nancy Drew. All right are bought and paid for by someone else.

Chapter 13

Nancy woke up at nine the next morning, Bess and George still sleeping soundly. She walked into the bathroom and brushed her teeth, pulled her hair into order, stared at herself in the mirror from different angles for a minute, sighed in defeat and slumped out. She sat on her bed, thinking for a minute. After a thought, she picked up the phone on her nightstand. She rummaged through one of the drawers and pulled out a notepad. She found the number she was looking for and dialed it, biting her lip anxiously.

"Weston Electronics, how can I help you?" a monotonous voice asked.

"Hi, I need to speak to Mr. Baylor Weston please," Nancy replied quickly.

"One moment."

The line popped for a second and then it rang again. After the third ring, it was picked up by the sweet, familiar voice of Weston's secretary.

"Mr. Weston's office," she said.

"Hi, this is Nancy Drew. I came in to see Mr. Weston a few days back," Nancy explained as George, sprawled out on the bed next to her, groaned in annoyance.

"Yes, of course. Hello again, Ms. Drew."

"I actually wanted to speak to Mr. Weston about something really quick. Is he busy?"

"Let me check. Give me just a second."

The line went quiet as Nancy was put on hold and after a few second, the girl came back on.

"He'll speak to you. Just a moment."

Nancy was transferred once more and then Weston's shaky, insecure voice came on the line with a friendly greeting. Nancy returned it, not being able to help a smile. Half of it was because of Weston's trembling voice and spastic manner and half of it was because George groaned louder and shifted positions, clearly trying to convey her irritation. Bess, squeezed in beside her cousin, also tossed.

"Mr. Weston, I wanted to ask a favor," Nancy asked in the most coaxing voice she could.

"If I can help you at all, I will."

"I wanted to know if you could fax me over a list of all the employees your factory has hired starting from three weeks back."

Nancy winced, not sure whether she would get away with the vague request. But luckily, Weston was spastic and jumpy through and through. He didn't ask anything about why or how, he just complied.

"Sure, sure. Yes, of course. I'll, I'll, I'll make a call right away to my head of human resources. Right away."

"Thanks so much, Mr. Weston," Nancy said happily, giving a little jump.

George from beside her sighed and opened her eyes. She propped herself up on one elbow as Nancy gave Weston the fax number. Weston assured her she would get it within half and hour and Nancy thanked him again. She smiled and hung up the phone. She met George's poisonous gaze and the smile faltered.

"What the hell is anyone doing on the phone at the ungodly hour of," George paused as she looked at her watch, "nine fifteen?"

Nancy grinned. "I needed a list of recent employees from Weston's factory."

George groaned. "Do I dare ask why?"

"Because I think Joe Swenson is working there under another name. I want to see what recent hires there have been."

"Why?"

"Because I want to see if I can find him during his lunch hour. And you're coming with me, so get up."

George whimpered and flopped back onto the bed. Nancy rolled off her bed and walked towards the door of her room.

"Come on," Nancy demanded, throwing a pillow at George. "Wake Bess up."

George, pretending to cry, lay there for a minute before turning and smacking her cousin.

"Goddamn! What?" Bess yelled, scared and mad. She rubbed her arm.

"Wake up," George muttered, not moving herself.

"Asshole," Bess muttered, looking at the red spot where George had hit her. She smacked her cousin back.

Nancy skipped down the stairs and ran to her father's study. She swept by Hannah who looked after her, surprised.

"Whoa! You're up early," Hannah managed to say as she went.

She stopped in front of the fax and jumped around happily as she saw the second page of a fax coming in. She grabbed it when it was done and kissed it. She sat at her father's desk, turned on his lamp and hunched over the list. The cover page had the usual formalities. She skipped over it and the next page was a list was twelve different names of it. She began running her fingers down over the employees, muttering their names under her breath. At last she got to the third name from the bottom and stopped.

"Joseph Dahl," she repeated to herself.

Of course! It all came together now. Swenson had dropped the diary while running from the fire. And while he was running through the bushes, he lost his signet ring with a "D" on it.

"A 'D' for Dahl! It's got to be a name he uses often," Nancy said aloud.

She danced around happily. She wished her father was home to tell him about it, but had left for work a long time ago. Nancy regained her composure and began prioritizing what she had to do. First of all, she had to eat breakfast and get dressed. She walked back out to the kitchen where Hannah was making an omelet with ham, cheese, and onion. A few second later George stumbled in, followed by Bess. Hannah's eyes widened in mock awe.

"I thought Nancy waking up at nine was a shock, but here, before my eyes! A miracle!" Hannah mocked with a smile as she served the girls their omelets.

Nancy explained what she was doing and what she was planning to do. This woke Bess up immediately.

"You want to go talk to him?" she asked.

"No, she wants to shave him," George snapped.

Ignoring George, Bess continued, "Nancy, what if this guy actually blew up that house? He's probably a raving lunatic and you want to go talk to him?"

"I have to agree with Bess," Hannah said. "Maybe the situation isn't that severe, but he could mean trouble."

"I don't think so. And besides, it's in the middle of a factory. What is he going to do? Kill me right then and there?" Nancy asked, finishing her omelet and putting the dishes in the sink.

She went upstairs with her two friends and they got dressed. They were out on the highway by ten and they got to the factory about twenty minutes before the lunch whistle blew. Nancy parked her car and then walked to the outside recreation area that had outside tables. They got there just as the last of the workers where streaming out of the building to find available spots.

"Shit," Nancy cursed. "It'll be hard to find him now. I wish we could've seen him when he came out. Well, come on."

George followed beside her, Bess cowering behind the two of them, glancing around nervously. Nancy began to think she'd have to give up when she saw by chance someone leaning against a tree. He was standing with a dejected slump. He was a fair-haired man, slight and rangy.

"There he is," she said excitedly.

He shifted on the tree and the girls saw his face, all doubt thrown out of their minds. George looked at her cousin.

"Oh yeah. A raving lunatic he is," she mocked and Bess glared.

"Better safe than sorry," she retorted with a huff.

"I need to talk to him alone. I don't think he's going to run or anything, but if he does, try to keep him from leaving," Nancy intervened.

"Oh, you mean, stun him with our ray guns?" George asked skeptically.

Nancy ignored her and started off towards the man. He must have been preoccupied because he didn't notice when she stopped beside him, sizing him up.

"Excuse me? Mr. Swenson?" she spoke up bravely.

He turned automatically at the sound of his name. He hesitated only a moment, but he wasn't all that surprised by the encounter. He certainly didn't look insane.

"Sorry, my name is Dahl," he replied in a deep, soft voice that carried a note of infliction. "Can I help you?"

Nancy was looking over the expression on his face. Although she didn't expect Joe Swenson to be crazy, she did expect something more pompous. Maybe defiant, sullen, snappy, even fierce and angry… but Joe Swenson had a kind face. His eyes were sad and his manners gentle. He looked… tired, exhausted and disheartened. Nancy felt it right then and there in her heart that he couldn't possibly have done anyone any harm, ever.

"Okay then. Mr. Dahl, I have news of your wife."

Instantly he forgot about any charade that he was playing to do with names. "Helen?"

"Well, the only Helen I know is named Swenson and-"

"I am Joe Swenson. Please, what about my wife? And Honey, what about my daughter? Are they okay?" he asked, worried.

Nancy gave a reassuring smile. "They're fine, Mr. Swenson. Both of them, but they miss you. And they're worried about you. Your wife is trying to find you. She wanted to know why she hasn't heard from you."

"Hasn't…?" Swenson was obviously confused. "That's impossible. I wrote to her to give her my address. I just didn't want to go home until I had cleared something up."

"Then you did try to contact your wife," Nancy repeated.

"Of course I did. I promised to send money home and I did. I sent her two pretty big money orders."

Nancy wasn't surprised. "I know for a fact she didn't get anything, especially money."

"What!" Swenson was obviously shocked, confused, and a little angry. "How is that possible?"

He paused for a second, his eyes sliding past Nancy to something behind her. George and Bess were coming forward, obviously noticing that Swenson was okay and not a flight risk. Nancy introduced her friends and Swenson nodded, shaking their hands politely. He turned back to the issue at hand.

"How is it possible that Helen hasn't received my letters? I sent it at the post office personally," Swenson said, his voice cracking from the strain.

The girls all shrugged, unsure of what to say. Joe Swenson stared at his feet dejectedly for a few moments and sighed. Then he reached a hand into his pocket and pulled out a crisp, sealed envelope. He looked at Nancy, a pleading look in his eyes and he handed her the letter.

"I was going to send this today. Do you think you can please give it to her?" he asked.

Nancy smiled again. "Sure. No problem." She changed the subject then, making it sound as if she was only curious. "Can I ask you something? Why did you say your name was Dahl before I mentioned your wife?"

Swenson laughed, surprising them. "Trust me, there is nothing criminal about it. Just slightly superstitious. I know it's stupid, but Dahl was my mother's maiden name. I'm actually an inventor and my father's family has always had some pretty bad luck. Things haven't gone so well for me under that name either. But, my mother's family has always been quite successful. I thought if I gave her name, it would bring me better luck than Swenson."

"An inventor, huh?" George repeated casually. "Your wife had mentioned something like that. She also said something about some crappy deal with a jerk who buys patents."

"Crappy is right," Swenson burst out suddenly, out of character. "And the 'jerk' is named Felix Raybolt. He swindled me out of my invention and my earnings." Suddenly, Swenson sagged, sad and spent. He looked at the girls, sorrow in his eyes. "His house burned down, you know."

The girls all nodded and Swenson gave a small shake of his head. "I'm scared someone will blame me for it… if they find out I was there that day."

"You were there that day?" Bess asked, faking innocence with wide, unbelieving eyes.

Swenson hung his head in shame. "Yes, I was. I had an appointment with Raybolt. He'd told me to come that morning to talk about the patent. But when I got there, the house was dark, it didn't look like anyone was inside. I had just finished ringing the doorbell when the house… exploded. Something inside just went off and the house went up in flames. I called to Raybolt over and over, but no one answered me. I even tried to breakdown the door to make sure he wasn't in there, unconscious or something. The front door won't give, so I went around back. There were flames coming out from the back door and I couldn't get near it. I heard a car coming and I got scared, thinking that maybe I'd get blamed for it… so I ran through the back bushes and got away."

"You didn't see anyone when you were there?" Nancy asked.

"Not a soul, I swear."

"Do you think Raybolt died that day?"

"I could've bet my life on the fact that the house was empty. I didn't see or hear him inside, so I don't think so. Besides, the police didn't find any evidence of anyone having been inside."

Nancy nodded. She slipped a couple on sly words into the conversation. "The police have been searching the property for evidence or clues. Some things were picked up around the place."

He looked up sharply then. His face for a moment read as if it dawned on him that he might truly be a suspect. However, when he spoke the words were calm and casual.

"Maybe they found a diary. I lost it when I was there. It wouldn't really mean much to anyone except me. Me and Felix Raybolt."

"Raybolt?" George said, surprised. "Why would Raybolt care about your journal?"

"Because it has information written in it that he wishes was never written down. There is proof in there that the invention he stole is really mine. I've wanted to resolve the matter, but I don't have money to hire and lawyer and that journal was my number one evidence that the invention was mine and not his. I haven't been able to get anywhere without it. But that day at the fire, I dropped it. That day was terrible. I also lost a ring that meant a lot to me. It was an old heirloom from my mother's side of the family."

Swenson fell into a gloomy, depressed silence and made a hopeless little gesture with his hand. Nancy felt sorry for the man. She was almost sure that he was innocent. But Nancy wasn't the police. She had the journal in her purse with her, but she hesitated. Half of her wanted to give the journal back to the poor, unlucky man. The other half reasoned that she wasn't the police and it wasn't her decision to make. What if he was guilty and she was withholding evidence from the police force. She thought things through and decided to hole onto the little diary until she learned the truth. Just then, the lunch whistle blew and Swenson snapped out of his fog.

He looked at the factory and grabbed his lunch tin. "I have to get back to work. Thanks again for the news of my family."

"What time do you get off from work?" Nancy asked.

"Five."

"Oh. Maybe we'll see you before we leave again." Swenson's face pulled into an uncomfortable confusion. Nancy smiled again and added, "I mean, don't you want to send some kind of message to your daughter and wife?"

Swenson measured his reaction and gave a small, tense smile. "Thanks, but I'll write to them again."

"Sure. Well, see you," Nancy said and turned, walking back to her car with her friends.

This was a weirder case than what she first thought. It was possible that Joe Swenson would run off again after being confronted. He was scared and exhausted, not thinking clearly. He had had too many close calls, too many disasters and Nancy wasn't sure if he could handle the possibility of one more.

Nancy let out a little scream as someone grabbed her arm hard, squeezing so hard it hurt her. She was wheeled around to face a cruel-looking, angry man.