A/N: I am so sorry that it's taken me so long to update! I hit a major spell of writer's block, and I finally managed to push through it with the help of some amazingly supportive people from this fandom. To everyone who encouraged me when I simply had nothing to write, thank you! And thanks to everyone for waiting -- please review and let me know what you think!
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of Nancy, Frank, and Joe. Any other original characters are my own, and I shall do with them as I please.
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The mood in the car was somber as Frank drove away from Bess and George's apartment complex. After his nerve-wracking mad dash into Chicago earlier, Joe had opted for the role of backseat driver this time. Nancy sat in the front, in the stiff posture that seemed to take over her every time they got in the car. When Frank began to get onto the highway that would take them into downtown Chicago, Nancy spoke.
"Can we go back to River Heights first? I'd like to go home and pack a bag and check on Hannah." Her last words were rushed, as if she was finally giving voice to a fear that she had harbored in her heart and wanted to purge as quickly as possible. Frank turned to look at her carefully. She tried to hide it, but he could see the fear in her eyes. "No problem, Nan," he replied quietly. He made a U-turn under the highway and got on in the direction leading back to River Heights. Nancy pulled out her cell phone to call her house and let Hannah know that they were coming. As the phone began to ring, Nancy held her breath. Please pick up, she prayed silently. After six rings, when Nancy heard her own voice come up on the answering machine, she hung up.
"She's not answering," Nancy said quietly, to no one in particular.
Frank silently pressed down harder on the gas pedal.
After that, no one spoke at all. All three detectives were quiet, the silence only broken each time Nancy had to give Frank instructions on where to turn. Even Joe, who was normally effective at breaking up tense silences with irreverent comments, remained mute. Finally, when it seemed that Nancy's nerves had reached the breaking point from the grim atmosphere that overshadowed the car, they pulled up in front of her house. Just the sight of it made her want to cry and smile at the same time. Here was comfort, security, and the solid warmth of always being welcomed with open arms. Both her father's arms and Hannah's. But her father was missing. And Hannah…
Gripped by fear clutching at her throat, Nancy jumped out of the car and ran for the front door. She pulled her keys out of her bag, and fumbling them slightly in her haste, unlocked the front door. She heard Frank and Joe come up behind her as she threw the door open, dreading what she might find inside. But as she took in the familiar sight of the front hallway lined with family photographs and the knick-knacks that Hannah liked to collect, all untouched, the knot in her stomach loosened slightly. And then dissolved altogether as another familiar sight greeted her.
"Hannah!" Nancy flew into Hannah's open arms as waves of relief washed over her. She couldn't stop herself from shaking as she was enveloped in the comforting warmth, Hannah's arms tight around her. Feeling the tremors, Hannah looked over Nancy's shoulder at Frank and Joe, a questioning look in her eyes. But both brothers remained silent. Finally, Hannah pulled away from Nancy's embrace.
"Nancy, what on earth is going on? First your father doesn't come home all night, and now you're here, and shaking like a leaf! What's happened?"
Nancy wanted to throw her arms around Hannah again, in sheer gratitude that she was unharmed. No one could ever replace her mother, but this woman meant the world to her. If anything had happened to her…
Shaking her head at the thought, Nancy grasped Hannah's hands tightly in her own instead. "I tried to call you, but you didn't answer."
"I went out to pick up your father's dry-cleaning," Hannah replied. "You must have called then." She squeezed Nancy's hands. "Now will you tell me what's going on?"
"I will, but I think you'd better sit down." Leading the older woman to the living room, Nancy and the Hardy brothers proceeded to tell her the whole distressing tale.
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An hour later, Nancy, Frank, and Joe were all seated around the Drews' dining table, while Hannah laid steaming dishes of food in front of them. It hadn't taken them long to tell her the whole story -- after all, they had had plenty of practice telling it lately. As soon as they had finished, Hannah had gotten up and headed straight to the kitchen, stating that she could think better if she kept her hands busy. And no problem should be solved on an empty stomach, Hannah Gruen declared emphatically. The responding grumble in Joe's stomach agreed with that statement. Now, smelling the tantalizing aromas arising from the food in front of him, Joe could only moan his appreciation.
"Hannah, this looks wonderful," Frank said, to make up for his brother's loss of the power of speech. "But you didn't need to go through the trouble."
"It's no trouble," Hannah replied firmly. "You three have been through a lot -- you deserve a good home-cooked meal. And there's no use in you getting sick by not taking care of yourselves."
Joe took his first bite of the steaming spaghetti and made another sound of appreciation. "Hannah, will you marry me?" Joe mumbled around the food in his mouth.
Hannah gave a hearty chuckle and patted him on the head affectionately. "Twenty years ago, boy-o, you would have had to get in line."
Nancy couldn't help but join in the laughter at Hannah's response to Joe's proposal. But she took very little food herself. Her appetite seemed to have disappeared with her father, and now after what had nearly happened with Bess and George, it was nonexistent.
Frank noticed the meager portions on her plate and frowned. "Nancy, you need to eat. You heard what Hannah said."
Nancy shook her head at him, her fork toying with her food. "I'm not hungry, Frank."
Frank opened his mouth to argue, but before he could say anything, Hannah came around the table to Nancy's side. She heaped a large portion of the pasta onto Nancy's plate, with one single word.
"Eat."
Nancy began to protest, but Hannah merely stared at her silently and raised an eyebrow. Grumbling slightly under her breath, Nancy began to eat.
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After the meal, Nancy went upstairs to her old room to pack a bag while the Hardys waited downstairs. Hearing footsteps, she looked up from her packing to see Hannah walk into the room. Wordlessly, Hannah came to her side by the foot of the bed and began folding a sweater than Nancy had laid out. She handed the folded garment to Nancy, and when Nancy reached for it, she saw that the older woman's hand was trembling slightly. She took the sweater from her and laid it in her bag, but before Hannah could reach for the next one, she took her hand in hers gently. Hannah sighed, then looked up and met her eyes.
"Nancy, I'm worried."
Nancy wrapped her arms around Hannah's wide frame and rested her cheek against the top of her brown hair, now sprinkled with hints of gray. "Me too, Hannah," she said quietly. "It kills me not knowing where Dad is, what condition he's in, what those men could be doing to him. And I hate that we have no leads, no idea where to even begin looking."
Hannah pulled away from her and cupped her cheek in her hand. She studied Nancy's face carefully, the face that she had watched mature from that of a precocious young girl to a charming young woman. And she worried.
"It's not just your father that I was talking about."
Nancy averted her eyes from hers, turning away to finish her packing. "I'll be fine, Hannah. I can take care of myself."
"You can keep telling me that until you're blue in the face, Nancy. It still won't keep me from worrying about you."
Nancy spun around to face her. "I'm worried about you too!" she nearly shouted. "I'm worried about you, and Dad, and Bess, and George, and anyone else who's unfortunate enough to be a part of my life and a potential target for these madmen!"
She sank to the bed, dropping her head into her hands. She felt the mattress sink down under Hannah's weight as she sat down next to her and gathered her close. Hannah rocked her, much as she had when she was a little girl, stroking her soft strawberry blond strands while murmuring to her softly. But the comforting motion didn't relax her as it once used to. Nancy held herself stiffly, her eyes painfully dry as she stared into the space past Hannah's shoulder.
Hannah felt Nancy's resistance and, for the first time since she had entered the Drew household, felt inadequate. She finally released Nancy, and the moment she did, Nancy stood up and finished throwing her things into her duffel bag, zipping it shut with finality. She paused with her hand still on the bag, and after a moment, looked at Hannah. Her face was blank, but there was an unspoken apology in her eyes.
"Will you go stay with someone for a few days, until this is over?"
Hannah opened her mouth to refuse -- she didn't want to be away from the house in case Carson's kidnappers called. But then she remembered Nancy's words about who she was worried about, and that she was on that list. If it meant that it would be one less person for Nancy to worry about…
"If that's what you want, honey."
Nancy nodded firmly. "I do." Echoing Hannah's thought, she continued, "I'll forward all of the calls from our home phone to my cell phone, just in case the kidnappers decide to call here. And I promise I'll let you know as soon as we find them." Dead or alive, her mind screamed, but her heart stumbled over the words and they remained unsaid, though both women heard them anyway.
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Joe looked up as Nancy and Hannah descended the stairs. He had never seen Hannah Gruen look grim in his life, but that was the only way that he could describe the expression on her face now. In contrast, Nancy's face was expressionless as she swung her bag up her arm and over her shoulder. Her eyes met Joe's, and he felt pity stir in him. She wouldn't appreciate the thought, he knew. Her firm voice and stiff posture confirmed that as she asked, "Where's Frank?"
"He stepped outside to call Mom and ask her to go stay with friends or family for a while. He said he wanted to get some fresh air while he was at it."
Joe rose to stand next to Nancy, setting down the remote that he had been toying with restlessly. He laid a tentative hand on her shoulder. "Nan…"
At the sound of the back door opening, Nancy turned towards it, stepping away from the hand on her shoulder in the process. Joe sighed and looked at Hannah, who had an equally frustrated look on her face. Nancy stepped towards Frank and nodded at the cell phone in his hand.
"Did you get a hold of your mom?"
"Yeah," he replied, dragging a hand through his hair. "She's going to go stay with a cousin for a few days." He didn't add that he had also spoken to George, and let her know where they were and that they were okay. He didn't think Nancy would appreciate keeping her friends involved in what was going on, even if it was only to keep them from worrying about her.
"We should go," Nancy said. "I don't want to risk missing the next clue in case the kidnappers try to reach you at the hotel."
Frank nodded, and the three detectives made their way to the front door, with Hannah following closely behind. At the doorway, Nancy spun around abruptly and gave Hannah a fierce hug.
"I love you, Hannah. Please be careful."
Hannah couldn't help the tears that sprung to her eyes. She attempted to chuckle, but it sounded more like a sob. "You took the words right out of my mouth, Nancy."
Nancy leaned down and kissed her softly on the cheek. Turning to Frank, she reached for the keys in his hand and gave him a small smile. "I'll drive."
"Gladly," he responded with a smile of his own. As she walked out to the SUV and opened the back to put her bag in, he turned to Hannah and gave her another kiss on the cheek. "Thanks for everything, Hannah." She nodded and gave him a watery smile, and he followed Nancy to the car, climbing into the passenger seat next to her. Joe looked out at his brother and Nancy, and then down at Hannah. He squeezed the older woman's arm gently. "Don't worry, Hannah, we'll take care of her." Before she could tear up again, he winked at her. "After all, I've got to impress my future wife."
She laughed and swatted him playfully on the arm. "You are, and always have been, a hopeless flirt, Joseph Hardy." She gave him a wink of her own. "And that's what I love about you."
Joe placed his hands over his chest with a flourish. "Oh, be still, my heart!"
Hannah laughed and gave him a gentle shove out the door. "Get out of here, you nut."
Joe laughed. "I love you too, Hannah." He blew her a kiss before jumping into the car. Nancy pulled out of the driveway, heading down the street that would take her to the highway. As she glanced in the rearview mirror, she saw Hannah waving at them, a very worried look on her face. And she was struck by a sense of déjà vu, remembering the look on Laura Hardy's face when they had left her that very morning. One more person left behind, Nancy thought to herself, sighing.
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"Frank, you really didn't need to get a suite. I would have been fine with my own room."
"Nancy, we've been over this. The closer we are, the safer we'll all be."
"Oh, so you got this room so that I could protect you from the big, bad kidnappers."
Frank tried, desperately, to smother a grin, but failed miserably. Nancy glared at him and crossed her arms over her chest. Sadly, that had the unfortunate effect of making Frank's smile appear full-force. Before any blood could be shed, Joe cleared his throat.
"Um, Nan, as much as I would enjoy watching you rip into my brother, he's got a point. Not only will we be able to keep an eye on each other, but I'd rather stay here than in the room that those goons had reserved for us, where we'd practically be sitting ducks."
"But what if they left the next clue in that room?"
"It could just as easily be a trap," Frank replied.
For the first time since they had all run into each other, a familiar mischievous glint appeared in Nancy's eyes.
"Well, we'll just have to find a way into that hotel room then, won't we? It's only a few floors below us…I'm sure I could figure out a way to climb down and open the door for you guys."
Frank laughed. "Easy there, Nan. Usually the simplest way is the most obvious. Why don't we come up with a story and try asking the front desk for a key first?"
Nancy and Joe looked at each other.
"He's no fun," Joe stated.
Nancy just shook her head in disappointment and led the way out the door. Frank's laughter echoed in the hallway.
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As they approached the front desk, they saw a pretty brunette who appeared to be in her early twenties working alone. The male concierge who had checked them in earlier was nowhere in sight. Joe grinned.
"Leave this to me."
Before Nancy or Frank could say anything, he strode up to the marble counter, a swagger in his step. Frank groaned, and Nancy's lips curved upwards in a smile.
"It's nice to know that some things never change."
"Sometimes they should. You would think he would have learned his lesson by now about flirting while we're on a case."
"You have to admit, it has its benefits. He's certainly laying on the charm for this one." Nancy cocked her head in Joe's direction, and both she and Frank stepped a bit closer, staying out of sight around the corner from the front desk.
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Joe fixed a charming smile on his face, the smile which, in his humble opinion, females just couldn't resist. He glanced subtly at the nametag that the woman was wearing.
"Hi, Jennifer. I have a special favor to ask, and I'm sure you're just the person to help me."
Jennifer gave him a bland look, but Joe continued on, undaunted.
"My parents stayed in this very hotel on their honeymoon. They told me all about it, and how much they loved it here. Since their 25th anniversary is coming up, I wanted to do something special for them."
He lowered his voice, and his eyes watered slightly.
"See, shortly after they were married, my dad was in an…accident. After that, he never wanted to travel anywhere. So I thought it'd be nice to book the same room that they stayed in so many years ago, to remind them of when they were so happy."
Joe's voice trembled over the last words, and Jennifer laid a hand over his.
"That's so sweet of you," she cooed.
Joe gave her a tremulous smile.
"I'm so glad you think so. That's why I need your help. I wanted to make sure that the room's…okay…for my dad, with the wheelchair and all. Would it be possible to get a temporary key for that room, if no one's staying there? It's room 1627. I promise I'll get the key back to you right away."
He gave her his best puppy dog look, and she patted his hand.
"It's so wonderful that it's your parents' 25th anniversary."
Joe nodded. "I know. It's hard to believe, but they're still as happy as the day that they were married."
"That's wonderful," Jennifer repeated, but the falsely sweet tone faded from her voice as it hardened. "Although, it's interesting that they spent their honeymoon here, considering that this hotel was only built twelve years ago."
She pulled her hand away from his and gave him a stern look. "You know, it's one thing to hit on me, but it's really low to use your poor father's disabilities to pick up a girl. You should be ashamed of yourself."
Joe mentally kicked himself, but schooled his expression into one of confusion. "I'm so sorry. I must have the wrong hotel. It's an honest mistake, I swear."
He turned away abruptly and walked around the corner, to where his brother and Nancy were shaking with silent laughter. They walked further down the corridor towards the hotel fitness center until they were out of earshot, where Frank and Nancy started laughing outright. Joe just glared at them.
"Laugh it up, you two. How was I supposed to know this hotel is only twelve years old?"
Frank just kept laughing, but Nancy patted his shoulder reassuringly, even though she still had a wide grin on her face.
"It's okay, Joe. You still had her fooled -- she just thought you were a guy with a bad pick-up line, instead of someone trying to break into a hotel room."
"Yeah, the hotel room -- how about we focus on that?" he said, shooting a pointed look at his brother, who was still chuckling at Nancy's comment. "How exactly are we going to get in there?" Joe turned to Nancy, whose gaze was fixed on a point behind his head.
"It may be easier than we thought," she said slowly, focusing on a cream door next to the fitness center entrance. On the door in gilded gold letters was a single word: Housekeeping.
Joe waggled his eyebrows at Nancy suggestively. "Does this mean we get to see you in a French maid outfit, Nan?"
"In your dreams, Joe," she tossed over her shoulder, walking to the door and testing the handle. It turned easily.
Joe was about to make another suggestive comment when Frank cuffed him on the back of the head, none too gently. "Focus, Joe," he said firmly. "Now do you want to be the lookout, or do you want to find a uniform and go with Nancy?"
"I'll be the lookout. You can go play dress-up with Nancy," Joe said with a smirk. Frank was about to retort back when Nancy appeared from the closet, dangling a key card attached to a lanyard in her hand.
"Jackpot," she said with a grin. "Apparently they keep a master key in the housekeeping closet."
"A key to all of our rooms in an unlocked closet that anyone can get to." Joe shook his head. "That makes me feel so much better about our safety."
"Normally, I wouldn't be too thrilled with that either, but since it just made our lives that much easier, I'm not going to complain. Here," Nancy handed a uniform to Frank, keeping one for herself.
"There are bathrooms down the hall. I'll meet you back here in a minute. There's a service cart in the closet that we can use for our cover. Joe, if anyone comes down this hallway, try to get rid of them."
"With a better story this time, little brother," Frank added. Joe just glared at their backs as they headed towards the guest bathrooms, laughing.
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Twenty minutes later, Nancy and Frank were on their way down the hallway of the sixteenth floor, Frank pushing a service cart laden with towels and Nancy walking alongside him. Both were dressed in drab grey service uniforms, disappointing Joe in his visions of a short little maid's uniform for Nancy. He was stationed at the end of the hall by the elevator; the plan was that he would move to stand outside the door of the room that Nancy and Frank were going into once they had entered. He would pretend to be talking on his cell phone, and would raise his voice as if arguing with someone in warning if anyone appeared in the hall. That would serve the dual purpose of alerting Nancy and Frank, as well as hopefully deterring the other person from lingering in the hallway.
He watched Frank pause with the cart outside room 1627 while Nancy knocked on the door. Since they weren't sure if the room had been given out to someone else, they had agreed that it would be best to knock first, and play out the housekeeping act in case someone actually answered. After a minute, when the door remained closed, Nancy slipped the key card into the door and opened it casually, striding inside with a stack of towels in her hand and the air of someone whose sole purpose was to clean the room inside. Frank followed her in with a stack of his own.
Once inside the room, they set the towels on the desk and immediately began their search. Without exchanging a word, they each took a separate part of the room, Nancy searching the beds and nightstands while Frank looked over the desk, closet, and bathroom. Neither left any spot unchecked -- Nancy even crouched on the floor to check under the beds. After that search revealed nothing but dust mites, she straightened, dragging a hand through her hair.
"There's nothing here, Frank."
He shoved the chair back under the desk with more force than was necessary.
"No, there's not," he agreed, the frustration in his voice mirroring Nancy's.
They picked up their towels and headed back towards the closed door. As they approached it, they heard Joe's voice rise in anger, shouting something to 'Jeffrey' about owing him money. Nancy froze with her hand on the doorknob, and Frank came to an abrupt halt behind her. They stood silently, not daring to exchange a word in case whoever was in the hallway with Joe was within hearing range. Nancy could feel the adrenaline running through her veins, her whole body tensed as if ready to spring into action at the slightest signal from Joe. Behind her, Frank was close enough that she could feel the stiffness of his own body, and his breath lightly brushed the back of her neck. As his closeness penetrated through her heightened senses, Nancy felt her own breath catch. She was debating whether or not to whisper something, anything to Frank, just to dispel the nerve-wracking silence, when she heard a soft knock on the door. Peering out of the peephole, she saw Joe standing on the other side. She pulled the door open quickly, and she and Frank stepped out into the hallway, glancing both ways to make sure no one else was approaching. Joe slipped his cell phone into his pocket.
"It's all clear. Just someone going into his room two doors down. Did you guys find anything?
Frank and Nancy shook their heads silently, and the look of disappointment on Joe's face mirrored their own.
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All three friends were quiet as they entered their own hotel room. Nancy and Frank had changed back into their clothes, replacing the uniforms and the service cart in the closet undetected. The familiar routine of detective work -- finding disguises, sneaking into a locked room, searching for clues -- had taken Nancy's mind off of their fathers' predicament for a short while. But the disappointment of not turning up the next clue, and the reality that they had absolutely nothing to go on, brought the fear and helplessness rushing back full-force. She turned towards her room without meeting Frank's or Joe's eyes.
"I'm going to bed, guys."
"Nan," Frank began, but he didn't know what to say. It didn't matter -- she had already left the living room and closed her door behind her. He sighed in frustration and turned in the opposite direction, going into the room that he and Joe were sharing.
Joe remained in the living room, looking at both closed doors on either side of him. He resisted a strong urge to punch a fist into the wall, and plopped down on the couch instead, staring at the blank TV screen blindly as he worked to contain an overwhelming feeling of uselessness.
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Nancy unzipped her duffel bag, pulling out her pajamas and setting them on the bed. She then pulled out a picture frame that normally sat on her dresser in her room in River Heights, but that she had brought with her when she packed her bag. It was a picture of her and Carson, taken two years before when they had taken a vacation to the Grand Canyon. It was one of the rare times when Nancy had gone on a trip and not run into a mystery, and Carson hadn't had to take any work with him on the trip. Both looked happy and relaxed. The vibrant rock formations with their colourful striations behind them formed an ideal backdrop for the picture. Carson had his arm around Nancy's shoulders, with a content paternal smile on his face. Nancy had her arm wrapped around his waist and she was laughing into the camera as the wind blew her baseball cap off her head. The cap itself was in the air, captured in mid-flight by the tourist-turned-photographer who had graciously taken the picture for them.
Looking at the picture, she traced a finger over her father's familiar face, her throat tight with tears. Her father had always been invincible to her, a pillar of strength after her mother had died. She had missed her mother terribly, but Carson had helped to fill that gap, and given her a stable home and a strong foundation. He had encouraged her to be independent, and despite his concern for her, he had fully supported her love of mysteries and investigating. And now, one of those mysteries had caused some madmen to harm him…
Nancy set the picture down on the nightstand abruptly, as if the frame had burned her hand. She changed into her pajamas quickly, her movements agitated. Not bothering with washing her face, she pulled back the covers and climbed into bed. Thoughts and images raced through her head, a jumbled mess of confusion. There was one thought that she pinpointed and focused on, and she held on to that thought as she fell into a restless sleep.
Come hell or high water, I'm going to Memphis tomorrow.
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