CHAPTER 13
Joe hovered by the door and watched as everyone left the house, swaddling themselves in hats, scarves, gloves and heavy coats. He guessed Frank would hold back until everyone left, so he loitered. As Frank drew near, Joe hooked his elbow and made him wait until Fenton left. Eventually, they stood close, alone in the narrow passageway.
"What's up, Bro?"
"I wanted to say good luck with the hypnotism. You gonna be okay?"
"I think so."
Joe narrowed his eyes, "Really?"
"Truthfully?"
"No Dude, I want you to lie."
Frank laughed. "I don't want to do it, but I have to. I'm not naïve. I know I'm not balancing out and I'm worried this will make things worse. Something's triggering me and it's not just Pandora. I've been in a good place for months."
"Frank, it's us talking about Nancy that winds you up."
Frank grunted. "Screw you Joe, don't corner me to start—"
Joe rested his hands quickly on Frank's shoulders. "Stop, Frank," he said calmly. "Stop, be cool. Turn on your rational chip and consider what I just said and how you reacted. Use your head and not your heart. Do you think it's a logical or reasonable response?"
Frank turned quietly introspective and leaned back against the wall. After a matter of seconds, Joe felt the tension release under his hands as Frank's shoulders relaxed. "Aw man! You're right; it is people talking about Nancy Drew setting me off. I don't know why but it gets right under my skin. Every time she's mentioned, a pressure builds. If I can't get away, I blow up."
"Do you feel the same when Callie's name is mentioned?"
"No, but then her name isn't a hot topic at the moment, and I don't—"
"Love her?" Joe finished for him.
Frank froze and stared at Joe staring back. "I wasn't going to say that," he said slowly.
"I'm not so sure, Dude, and I don't think you are either." Frank opened his mouth, but Joe ploughed on to stop Frank's objection. "Whatever. See if you can't get a handle on what's going on, and try not to worry about your session with Doctor Cox. She knows what she's doing and Dad'll be with you the whole way. Why not pick Doctor Cox's brain about Nancy while you have the opportunity?"
"I guess. Thanks, Bro."
Joe gazed for a second and then moved quickly to lay an arm right across Frank's shoulders, and forced him into a headlock. He proceeded to rub his knuckles over his scalp. "You got fleas, Dude!"
"Get off! As your boss I demand respect!"
-o0o-
James and Vanessa sat in a coffee house, nursing hot drinks and picking at muffins. They'd have gone straight to the auction house, if not for the fact that all the way to New York they'd been half frozen to death - stupidly, they'd opted to take Mrs Holliday's vehicle with its heater on the fritz.
"I feel human again," Vanessa said. She unravelled her silky scarf and hung it over the back of her seat.
"I don't think I'm ever gonna be warm again," James complained. "There comes a stage when you can't get any colder." He wrapped his hands around his cup in a vain attempt to warm his fingers.
Vanessa watched the city, taking in the unfamiliar noises and smells only New York offered. "The city rocks! When growing up, I wanted to live here, and went through a stage of thinking Bayport dull. Now I can't imagine living anywhere else."
"Trust me Van, I've lived here. It's great if you're rich, but for a poor boy, it's no picnic. Bayport's a massive improvement on my previous living conditions." James took the last gulp of his coffee, set the empty cup aside and lifted his notebook from his top pocket. "Shall we talk about Nancy?"
Vanessa turned away from the window. "What about Frank last night? His reaction? He almost exploded into a million pieces. The way he looked at me."
"Van, he DID explode but he's under a lot of pressure and we were pushing him. He's right, what happened with him and Nancy has nothing to do with us. Mr H and Joe had backed off, and we should have too." He opened up the notebook with a flourish. "Frank's got enough going on without us adding to the strain."
"But they're perfect for each other."
"Any fool can see that, but Frank's a complex guy who considers himself damaged. I don't think the guilt has ever let go its grip about what happened with Pandora. Maybe it's a good thing he let Nancy go."
"I don't agree."
"As I said, we can't make his decisions for him, even when we can see he's making a monumentally dumb ass move!" James rolled his lip and changed the subject. "The auction house Nancy had under surveillance is a place called 'Hansons'. It's a half-block away." He leaned forward and peered out the window. "You can see the building from here."
Vanessa looked into the direction he indicated and nodded. "I see it."
"Other than the information Joe got, we're going in blind. No formal investigation has been opened."
"Why not?"
"Missing person cases involving adults aren't looked at until they've been missing for at least 48 hours. Even then, the Police will typically only investigate if it's out of character, or if there are extenuating circumstances. Chief Collig has convinced his counterpart here to allow us to take the case even though it's outside of our jurisdiction."
"Really?"
"One less case's a bonus as far as the NYPD's concerned. And Nancy's a potentially missing PI; most Chiefs of Police don't think like Collig and don't welcome what they see as interference from PIs. Some will consider Nancy's case as falling under the category of 'hard luck'."
"That STINKS!"
"Even The Chief won't put up with PIs like Oscar Smuff - kicks the guy out of the precinct every time he comes in. If Collig could revoke Smuff's PI Licence, he would. I suspect the only reason The Chief tolerated Fenton at first is because he's an ex-cop. Then he won Collig over by getting results."
"Mr H is pretty fly." Vanessa slipped off her stool, and grabbed her scarf. She wrapped it once around her neck and let the two ends drape down to her waist. "I don't like the thought of Nancy out there somewhere in need of our help. It's not like her not to drop us a line to say 'Hi'."
They stepped out into the cold again, and James took Vanessa's elbow to encourage her across the street before the lights changed to green. Once on the sidewalk, they slowed to a fast clip and Vanessa tucked her arm into his. He glanced at her leather-gloved hand rested on his bicep and grinned - he enjoyed the close, easy, companionable contact of his new sister. "How are you finding working with Mr H's gang?"
"I like it tons. It's a real family atmosphere. The guys look out for me and don't expect me to make them drinks…even though the agency's fuelled by coffee. I feel like they consider me an equal, although I'm not quite feeling it yet. This is my first outing as a member of the team so I need to prove my worth. I think Nancy working for them as a woman has helped ease me in from the get-go."
"Well, I know Dad underestimated Nancy for a while and she taught him a lesson. From the way Fenton and Con reacted yesterday, I think you've already proven yourself worthy."
"No…I mean prove to myself I'm worthy, that I can do it. I've always been one of the sidekicks, not a front runner. This is new territory."
"Gotcha."
"The only issue I've got is Joe forgets I'm not his girlfriend when we're in the office. It's embarrassing when he plants a kiss on my neck or something."
"It's the something I'd be more worried about people seeing."
Vanessa shoved him. "Watch it, Jimmy."
James laughed. "That's why you're not sharing a room at the hotel?"
"Yep. And he worries about me, constantly. Drives me crazy! It's smothering."
Presently, they stood at the entranceway of Hansons and looked up at the art deco style lettering above the gold entrance doors. They stepped forward and pushed their way into the building. For a couple of seconds, they stopped to enjoy the warm air being vented down through the heating grill above the entrance.
Inside, a lawn of granite and marble stretched out before them, along with long, white tables. Various items adorned the tops of those tables, pieces that would soon go under the hammer. People milled about inspecting the items, some leaning forward with magnifying eyepieces pushed to their eyes. On the walls hung various works of art, from Pop Art canvases to neoclassical oil paintings.
"Joe would like that," Vanessa remarked, and tipped her chin at an image of a crouched Spider-Man preparing to unleash his web. A thought bubble above his head enclosed the quote 'with great power comes great responsibility'." The place smelled of money and opulence.
Fleetingly, James thought how Frank might now find himself visiting places like this, but almost laughed at the notion. Being the most unpretentious man he knew, Frank would balk at the thought. It didn't seem Frank had spent any of the money solely on himself, not even to get himself out of an uncomfortable living arrangement.
Vanessa glanced around and located a black granite reception desk, with a small office to the rear. She pulled on James' arm and led him over. A woman sat on a high stool with a phone receiver pushed to her ear as she took copious notes. She glanced up and smiled, put her hand over the receiver and said, "Give me two minutes."
They nodded, turned to the side of the desk and listened to the call.
"Bring it along to one of our open appraisal evenings. I can email the details to you?...I have a pen, go ahead." She scribbled. "I've got it. I'll have the timetable sent…my pleasure…thank you." She re-cradled the receiver and turned her attention to James and Vanessa, "Can I help you?"
James delved into his inside pocket, pulled out his badge and showed it to her. "I'm Police Officer James Anderson and this is my associate, Vanessa Bender. I'm hoping you'll be able to help us with our enquiries."
The woman reached and plucked the leather wallet out of James' hand. It took him by surprise as being the first time anyone had done that. He'd had a must lighter hold on it than he thought.
"Do you mind if I—?" she asked and slipped his badge out of its holder. She turned it over in her hands to inspect it closely from all angles, and then pushed it to her lips.
Confused by the lip action, James asked, "Can I ask what you're doing, Miss, erm?"
"Bernadette…Bernadette Newby." She picked up the wallet and looked from James to his photo ID. "I need to make a call, excuse me." She got up and backed into the office taking James' wallet and badge with her.
James put his palms out. "Go ahead, Ma'am, steal it. Why not?
"What's that all about?" Vanessa asked and indicated to her own lips.
"I guess we'll find out in a minute. I hope I get my badge back or I can see my promotion whirl-pooling down the toilet!"
They could see her through the glass where she picked up a phone to talk to someone. She glanced there way suspiciously every now and then, but eventually she smiled openly and replaced the receiver. Then she dipped to pull a drawer open, extracted something and made her way back to them. "I apologize for rushing off. I needed to satisfy myself you were for real." She slipped James' badge into the wallet and returned it. "I talked to your Chief of Police and he verified your credentials. In fact, he said you're a Police Detective."
James smiled slightly at the last comment. "Of course it's your prerogative, but can I ask why you felt you needed to check?"
"Because we had two visitors three days ago, claiming to be from the police, asking questions about a PI we hired. They also showed me police identification, but a woefully fake one." She placed a small object down on the desk in front of them, and they looked to see a leather wallet laid there. Vanessa picked it up and opened it. Inside, they found a police badge, and ID card identical to James', but with a different photograph and bore the name of 'Michael Jeffrey'.
"If you compare it to Officer Anderson's, you'll see what I saw."
James opened his and laid both IDs and badges side by side. He then unhooked the badges and he and Vanessa took it in turns, picking up each badge and juggling them in their hands.
"This one has no weight," Vanessa observed of the fake one. "And it's a slightly different color."
"I didn't have a legitimate one to compare it to," Bernadette smiled. "Put them to your lips and feel the difference in temperature and texture. The mouth's more sensitive than fingers."
They did so and James nodded at her. "There's a distinct difference. This one isn't metal, it's a plastic resin."
"Yes...cheap junk, not what I would expect a police badge to be made from. No better than a child's toy. Detective Anderson, I've been around antiques my whole life. I've got a trained eye. Those police officers didn't fool me for an instant."
"You say they were asking questions about a private investigator? Would the person be Nancy Drew?"
"They wanted to know if I knew where Nancy's whereabouts, but, as I said, they made me suspicious so I said nothing and went into the office to use the phone."
"What did these men look like?" James asked.
"Not two men…a man and woman."
"A woman?" Vanessa asked and glanced at James. "What did she look like?"
"Unusual. She had bobbed, dark hair, but it looked like a wig. Her eyes were unusually dark. She wasn't tall, probably a good seven or eight inches shorter than you, Vanessa."
"Frank's pharmacist."
"Sorry?"
"Never mind. What about the man?"
"Tall, athletic, red-hair, really soulless eyes; he frightened me. Something almost, erm, malignant about him? Although that word doesn't adequately express the way he came across. He didn't speak, but the way he looked at me…unnerving, like being looked into rather than at."
