A/N: I am so, so, sorry it's taken me this long to update. You guys are incredibly awesome for reading, reviewing, following, and favouriting, and I can't thank you enough for it. It feels like ages since I've last written, so I hope I won't disappoint!
"We already know that Jack White was missing from his office right about when Chasseur was murdered in his cabin. But that won't be enough to convince the police; we need more," Frank said as the five of them sat around a table in the corner of the lobby.
Frank, Nancy and Joe were attracting stares from the rare guest that wandered through the entrance of the ski lodge, but there wasn't much they could do about that. Having rushed straight to the lodge from Chasseur's cabin, the three of them all sported traces of soot in their hair along with the lingering and acrid stench of smoke on their clothing. Their only consolation was the knowledge that Jack and Paul White would return to the lodge soon enough - they had no reason to believe they were under suspicion, so for now it was just a matter of waiting.
"Wait, but if you're saying that Jack White hired Chasseur and Haines to sabotage the resort, who killed Haines?" Bess asked, a confused expression on her face.
"I'm guessing Chasseur did," Nancy replied. "Remember what Haines' journal said? He had changed his mind about helping out, and Jack was probably scared that Haines would rat out his plan to his younger brother. It would ruin everything, so he had Chasseur deal with him."
"The only question left is why Jack wants to sabotage the resort at all," Joe said. "What's his motive?"
"I don't know..." Nancy hesitated. "But I think we might be able to find out. Let's take advantage of their absence right now to snoop around. Frank, Joe - you guys can take on Jack's office together. It's the bigger of the two, so it'll help out if you work together. I'll sneak into Paul's office and see if he had any clue about what his older brother was up to."
"Bess, stay in the lobby for now, alright?" Joe said. "If you get any sign of either brother returning, try to warn us."
"And George, if you don't mind, someone needs to update the police," Nancy said.
"On it," George responded instantly. "I'll bring them up to speed on the situation at Chasseur's cabin while you guys do your thing." She hurried off immediately, pausing only to pull on her parka, gloves, and hat before braving the icy winter air. Although the sky was mercifully clear at the moment, the wind was still bitterly cold.
The three sleuths wasted no more time. Leaving Bess to stand guard in the lobby, Nancy made her way down to Paul White's office while Frank and Joe headed to Jack's.
Nancy padded down the carpeted hallway to Paul's office silently, pausing at the door to perform another check for any cleaning staff. She tested the knob. Locked. Hardly a surprise, but at least it would be easy to pick. She knelt down on one knee and swiftly pulled a pin from her hair, snapping it in half to form a makeshift tension wrench and pick. In less than a minute, the door swung open with a click and she slipped into the dark office.
Flipping on the light switch, Nancy was greeted with the sight of a small, but orderly room that seemed to focus more on function than comfort. A solid wooden desk took up the back center of the room, and there was a small bookshelf immediately to the left of the door. Nancy stepped in and shut the door quietly behind her, taking in the details of the office. Certain that there was nothing else of interest, she headed straight for the small computer on the desk and jiggled the mouse. The screen saver - a family picture, by the looks of it, displaying the White brothers and an unfamiliar old man - disappeared, replaced by a prompt for a password.
Nancy checked the immediate surroundings, flipping over the keyboard and running her fingers along the underside of the desk. Having no success, she rummaged through the desk drawers and was immediately rewarded with a small slip of paper taped to the back of one drawer. Quickly typing in the password, she smiled as the log-on sound played. Sometimes it was just too easy to break into someone else's computer.
She knew that the Hardys had already searched through this office - and by extension, this computer - before, but she didn't want to miss anything that might have been added. She began with the email account set as the default for the browser, flipping through the most recent emails received and sent by Paul White. One correspondence caught her eye immediately - an email from the White brothers' father.
Nancy's eyes grew as she read through the series of emails between Paul and his father. Apparently, Paul's father was not in the most excellent of health. It looked like he was discussing his inheritance with Paul, and if Nancy understood correctly it appeared as though Mr. White was planning on rewriting his will so that Paul would become his sole beneficiary. Yikes... I wonder how Jack took that news, she thought with a wince.
It would explain quite a bit, though. Assuming that Jack was informed of his father's decision, or found out through other means, it would only be in his favour if he discredited his younger brother in the eyes of their father. As owner of the resort, the blame for the recent sabotage by both Adam and Chasseur would pass by him and fall on the manager of the resort - Paul.
Combined with the untimely death of Chasseur, more and more evidence was stacking up against Jack White. If Frank and Joe managed to find a link between Jack and either Chasseur or Haines, that would be all the proof needed to show that Jack had been planning on ruining the ski resort to make his brother fall from their father's grace.
Nancy scanned through the rest of Paul's emails, but could find nothing unrelated to the everyday workings of the ski lodge and resort. She moved away from the computer and powered it down again, about to stand up when a small brown briefcase caught her eye. It was propped up against the desk, invisible from the doorway and partially obscured by the shadows.
Kneeling down, Nancy withdrew the briefcase and set it carefully on the desk. It needed a key, but she had already spotted one tucked away in a desk drawer while looking for the computer password. Unlocking the case, she opened it up and found a thick stack of folders containing files on the resort's business. Nestled between the papers was a small black book, which Nancy withdrew from the briefcase. Flipping through it, she realized that Paul had been keeping a journal for the past few months.
Nancy frowned as she began reading, starting at an entry close to the time that the vandalism would have begun:
There have been a few more incidents around the hills. I have no idea why the security team keeps letting them slip by, but I'm considering calling in some outside help to sort things out. I'll hold off on calling the police in yet - so far no one's been injured, and I'd rather take care of this quietly. Whoever this prankster is, they better quit messing around, and fast. Jack, of course, has been absolutely no help in the matter. This entire thing has been yet another huge strain on my nerves.
She read on. The entries ranged from frustrated complaints about a recent incident or a fussy customer to light-hearted updates of a celebrity that had come to visit, but they were almost exclusively focused on the events at the resort of that day. Nancy noted with interest the increasing frequency at which Paul mentioned his older brother, and the growing amount of worry in his tone as time passed on. She turned to the most recent entry and found that it was dated the present date, likely written right after Jack had left the office and lodge for the first time that morning:
I'm getting worried. Jack found out about Dad's plans to rewrite this will, and he's been sullen and moody for ages now. Not that I blame him; I'm sure I wouldn't be much different if the roles were switched. But I have no idea where Dad's change of heart even came from - my only guess is that he found out about what happened when we were getting the business started. Dad never approved of some of the things that Jack did, the more illegal parts of this business' birth. But right now I'm more concerned about Jack's state of mind. He's been keeping secrets; I'm sure of it. When I walked into his office yesterday, I found him sharpening a knife! I don't know what's going on with him, but I sure as hell intend to find out. I think he might be visiting our old hideout again, the one by the eastern cabin - his clothes were covered with soot and he got evasive with me when I asked why. Why he's going back there again, I have no clue... But if he won't talk to me once he gets back from whatever it is he's doing, I plan on following him around until I figure it out myself. Jack's odd behaviour is unprecedented, but I won't leave him alone until I get an answer.
Nancy's blue eyes widened, her expression one of shock. I hadn't realized they had been here before they bought the land for the resort, Nancy thought in surprise. And 'covered in soot'. Frank reported the bomb's explosion and location to Paul, and there wouldn't be soot anywhere else on the resort... it must be down that trail. Assuming that Paul followed Jack all the way down to Chasseur's cabin today, he must have saw Jack setting fire to it! Combining that with the fact that both brothers are still gone... Nancy stood up abruptly, pocketing the journal and shoving the briefcase back beneath the desk. She had a very bad feeling about this.
All too aware of how much time had already passed since the White brothers had last been seen, Nancy dashed down the hallways of the lodge until she reached Jack White's office. She burst in, allowing herself just a small amount of amusement at the way both boys jumped, and rushed through an explanation of what she had found within Paul's journal. In seconds, both brothers were following her back to the lobby and hastily redressing for the cold weather outside.
"Nancy, what's going on?" Bess demanded, obviously put out by the unexpected appearance of all three detectives at once. "Where are you guys going?"
"Bess, find George and tell her that Paul White is in danger. The bomb site - on the Ptarmigan - get the police over there as soon as you can," Nancy explained, zipping up her coat and pulling on her gloves.
"Nancy, I don't-" Bess began, automatically reaching out to pass Nancy her toque.
"I think Paul's being held by force in his and Jack's old hideout. I'll explain everything later - just find George!" Nancy exclaimed, pulling the hat over her ears and rushing to join Frank and Joe.
"But-" Bess cried out. She sighed as the door swung shut, shivering at the icy breeze it let in. Well, there was no sense complaining about it now - Bess would find George and get the police as soon as possible, but she expected a nice, long explanation once the whole case had been wrapped up.
Nancy dashed outside, right on the tail of Frank and Joe. Time was of the essence. She and Frank had managed to reach the bomb site in under 10 minutes before, though - they just had to move quickly.
The weather wasn't helping their progress. The sky was still a clear blue, but the wind stung like knives against their faces as they struggled onward down the hiking trail. Nancy pushed on, determined not to be left behind by the other two, but it was with an enormous sense of relief that they finally made their way to the cliff overlooking the wreckage of trees where the bomb had exploded.
Frank and Nancy shared a wince as they witnessed exactly how much damage the bomb had done to the forest and snow in the area, but in comparison to the ballroom full of people, at least no one had gotten hurt here. Yet, inexplicably, no police tape surrounded the area and the snow was for the most part untouched. It appeared as though the police squad hadn't gotten around to investigating the area.
The three made their way down the cliff into the pit where the bomb had fallen, and Nancy noted with relief the two sets of footprints in the snow. People had definitely been here recently, and considering how deserted the trail should have been it seemed likely that Jack had indeed taken his younger brother back to their old hiding spot. She paused, following the trail of prints down to the bottom with her eyes. Oddly enough, it looked like they disappeared part-way into the beginning of the blackened snow, trailing out into nothingness.
She squinted. Perhaps it was just an optical illusion of sorts, created by the ashes that covered the area. Before she could get a better look, Joe jumped down the remaining few feet to the bottom. Hurrying forward to keep up with him and Frank, who was only a short distance in front of her, Nancy watched curiously as Joe jogged along the path of footprints. She let out a gasp, ripping her eyes away from the footprints to stare at her own feet. She had almost tripped on the ice covering sections of the precarious path down. What was down there, though? Nancy mused on the possibilities as she picked her way down the slope. A hidden bunker? A crevice of ice? Assuming the footprints actually did just stop in the middle of nowhere, the only place for the Whites to have gone was down...
Nancy's thoughts were interrupted as Joe let out a shout that broke the calm silence of the forest, startling her and breaking her focus on the path for just a split second. A split second was all it took for her to lose her footing again. With a yelp, she felt her ankle bend beneath her on the uneven surface. Even as she heard Frank call out her name in worry, reaching towards her, Nancy's entire world flipped upside down as she went tumbling the rest of the way down the steep slope. She sucked in her breath sharply when she finally hit flat ground - by some strange misfortune, she had managed to land on what seemed like the one patch of ice in a clearing of loosely packed snow.
The sound of a thump brought her attention back to the cliff, where she saw Frank jump down and make his way over to her. The concern was plain on his face as he bent down to give her a hand up, but as she got to her feet a sharp pain flashed through her body. Nancy hissed a curse through her teeth, clinging on to Frank to keep her balance.
"Nance!" Frank exclaimed, moving to help her sit on the snow. He pulled up her pant leg, exposing the skin to the bitter cold, and examined the area critically.
"It's a sprain, I think," Nancy muttered, trying to focus on deep breaths to distract from the pain as Frank finished his examination.
"It should be okay soon, but you're in no condition to be moving around right now," he warned.
Nancy groaned, only in part because of her ankle's pain. Of all the stupid things... She looked up at Frank's concerned face and forced a smile. "I'll be fine. Really. You need to follow... Where did Joe go?" Nancy asked, only now realizing that the blond had seemingly vanished into thin air.
Frank hesitated, then rose from his crouch to assess the area. "He was following those footprints," he said, pointing along the path Joe had taken up to where he had disappeared. "I think there's an opening down there; he must have fallen through..."
"Well? What are you waiting for? Go after him," Nancy urged, sensing his unwillingness to leave her behind. "He'll need your help, and it's not like I'm in any danger from just sitting here."
Frank could hear the grumble in her voice as she finished speaking and couldn't hold back a small smile. One look at the icy blue glare silenced his qualms completely. "I know you can handle yourself, it's just... I'll be right back," he promised. "Don't even think about doing anything stupid until I am."
Nancy rolled her eyes but laughed, calling out one last "Be careful down there!" to Frank as he reached the spot where Joe had disappeared. He offered her one last smile, then turned around and began climbing down what Nancy assumed was a ladder. From her position, it almost looked like Frank was sinking into the ground.
Grinding her teeth together, she fumed briefly at both Joe's recklessness in rushing off like that and her own carelessness in tripping. Of course, she knew that Joe and Frank were more than strong enough to take on Jack White together, but it always irked Nancy to feel so helpless. Nancy was no stranger to twisted ankles, and past experience told her that she would be able to move again as soon as the pain wore off. It would just take a little while for that to happen.
She sighed once more, allowing herself to fall onto her back against the cleaner snow behind her. Gazing up at the blue sky, she was thankful that at least the cliff provided some shield from the wind. By her estimations, it would take at least half an hour for Bess to reach George, explain the situation to the police, and return to the bomb site, assuming that George had brought the police down to Chasseur's cabin. Nancy brought herself back up to a sitting position. She couldn't just sit here until then. Twisted ankle or no, there had to be some way to help while Frank and Joe confronted White underground. Her eyes narrowed as she surveyed her surroundings. There had to be something...
AaA
Joe gave a shout as he felt the ground beneath him disappear. He had been looking around for a hidden entrance to a hideout, too impatient to wait for Frank and Nancy to catch up, when he had dropped unceremoniously and quite ungracefully to the bottom of some kind of hole. With a thump, he landed hard on the packed snow, his legs folding beneath him and his back hitting the wall with a resounding crash that pushed the wind from his lungs. He let out a gasp, trying to restore his equilibrium.
In the moments it took him to recover - Did I just hear Frank shouting Nancy's name? - Joe took inventory to make sure he hadn't injured himself seriously in the fall: no broken legs, check; arms in working order, check; all teeth still intact, check. Well, that was a serious bit of luck. It would suck big time to break a leg here.
Satisfied that everything was in proper condition, he began to check out his surroundings for the first time. Glancing up, he saw a glimpse of blue sky through a crack in the snow and ice. Extending from the top of the hole to the ground was a ladder, maybe 10-15 feet in height.
As he brushed himself off and got to his feet only slightly shakily, he turned around and found himself facing a small passageway, lit dimly by an oil lantern and supported by planks of wood running up the side. Well, well, well... what have we here?
Joe was about to make his way down the passage when he heard a small commotion above him. Turning back to face the entrance to the hideout, he was met with the sight of Frank climbing down the ladder, Nancy nowhere in sight.
"Sure, take the easy way down," Joe muttered. More loudly, he called out, "How come Nancy isn't behind you? It's not like her to miss out on the action."
Frank snorted as he reached the bottom, turning to face Joe. "You think she wanted to? She lost her footing on the path when you called out - probably alerting White to our presence, by the way - and sprained her ankle in a tumble down the cliff."
Joe winced as the two began to make their way down the path. "I would say that's payback for the minor heart attack she gave me when she burst into White's office earlier, but that is rough. She's got to be spitting nails right now."
"That's not that far off," Frank admitted, lowering his voice to a whisper as they continued further down the path. "I'm just happy that she isn't seriously injured. You, on the other hand, might want to stay clear of her once we get out of here."
"Maybe she'll calm down by then," Joe said hopefully. They rounded a corner and immediately ceased talking, creeping forward into what looked like an underground cave. Frank tested the wall with his knuckles - solid ice. Combined with their depth underground and the wooden beams running across the wall and ceiling, it wasn't hard to see why this place had stayed up after the bomb had hit.
Joe squinted into the dim lighting of the cave. It was huge - although the ceiling itself was fairly low, another lantern stood on the floor in the center of the room, and the light it cast barely reached the walls. He felt Frank tug his elbow, directing his attention to a far edge of the vaguely circular area and paled as he took in the sight of Paul White, bound, gagged, and bleeding onto the snow around him.
Frank carefully examined the cave. A crevice ran alongside the left wall, but it was impossible to tell how deep it was in this lighting. There were two other passages leading out of the room on opposite ends, but Frank was sure that he hadn't noticed any other footprints in the area from the top of the cliff. Jack White was likely still in here - they just didn't know where. Frank had a suspicion that he wasn't gone, though. Assuming Paul was still alive, he would easily be able to point the finger at his older brother for binding him up and hiring Chasseur. No, it was far more likely that Jack White was currently down one of the two passages, still somewhere within the caves.
Frank let out a silent oath. Paul White would bleed to death if he didn't receive first aid treatment, but if it was a trap... he would have to take that risk. A quick glance at Joe showed that his brother had come to the same conclusion as he had after observing the situation.
Approaching cautiously, Frank leading and Joe watching his back, they made their way over to Mr. White as quickly as possible. Leaning over him, Frank placed two fingers against the older man's neck and was relieved to feel a faint but steady pulse. Not dead, then, just passed out, he thought to himself in relief. He untied the gag to make sure the airway stayed clear and was pleased to find Paul breathing easily.
The blood on the snow made the scene seem particularly horrific, particularly with the faint dripping sound in the background and the low lighting of the lantern, but after a few moments to let his eyes adjust to the dark it became clear that the blood came from a bullet wound on the man's right arm. Frank would've preferred to have some iodine and gauze to clean and bandage the wound, but there were limited options. He crouched down beside Paul's limp body to apply pressure to the wound, hoping it would be enough. So long as the police got here quickly enough with Bess and George, they might be able to get Paul out of here safely.
"Frank," Joe said quietly, breaking Frank's focus on Paul's condition. Glancing up at his little brother, a question forming in his head, Frank finally registered the faint sound of clothes rustling and snow crunching beneath heavy boots coming from far away. He tensed up and rose off the ground slowly, trying to locate the source of the sound. A small voice in the back of Frank's head reminded him that none of his planning mattered if White still had a loaded gun, but neither Frank nor Joe was planning on going down quietly. Back-to-back, he and Joe were dead silent as they listened to the echoing footsteps that approached.
Which passage was White approaching from? Left, or right? Would it be Frank's side, or Joe's? Both brothers were frozen in place, listening intently as they squinted through the near darkness. The distorted echoes produced by the cave amplified the noise more as White drew nearer, and Frank and Joe got ready to fight.
The footsteps stopped abruptly, and a sudden chill ran through Frank's body that had nothing to do with the cold.
"Well, well, well," a voice rang out, seeming to come from everywhere at once. "If it isn't the amateur detectives. I should have realized a fire wouldn't be enough to get rid of you two." Ever so slowly, Frank turned back to face the passage he had come from and finally saw what both he and Joe had missed before: a fourth passageway, cloaked in darkness and nestled behind the icy formations of the cave wall.
The ominous click of a gun rang out, echoing throughout the cavern. Stepping into the circle of light was none other than Jack White himself.