Hi all. You may have noticed that something hocky is going on with my reviews. Some are not appearing in my feed, although they are being emailed to me. I've reported this, so hopefully this issue will be resolved too. PLEASE don't stop reviewing. I can always add them in myself later on, they won't be wasted and I love to hear what you think. Thank you.


CHAPTER 18

"What does the psychopath look like?" Joe asked his brother.

"Tall, red-hair, athletic, empty dead eyes," Frank answered, his face still lined with worry for the safety of his ex-girlfriend. A girl he loved, and hoped would one day love him back again.

"I remember him. One of the group of men who took me to the clearing and used the cattle prods on me. He stood silent the whole time, watching. Seemed to enjoy it - fascinated even."

"Who's this Authority Gray told you about?" Fenton asked.

"He didn't seem to know," Con answered. "And I'm not convinced by that part of the story. The rest sounded plausible and he gave a fully rounded account, but that aspect…vague…like…he made it up on the spot as an excuse for breaking up Frank's relationship with Drew."

Frank started to pace. "When Vanessa gets back, I'll have her do some research. If she digs deep, and if they exist, she should be able to uncover something." He tapped his forehead. "Something else occurred to me from what you just told us. The woman who took the Pandora game from The Network…Arthur told you she went out of her way to find out about us, and the Pandora case?"

Con nodded. "Correct."

"That'll be why they've included James on the death list. She must know he had a hand in helping you destroy Pandora at Andrea's house. She thinks he played a bigger role."

"Of course! I couldn't figure out why my son's status had been upped—" Con paused, and his eyes travelled to the red phone on the table in front of him as it began to vibrate loudly. He felt the color drain from his face as he assumed the worst case scenario.

With a grimace, Frank stepped forward to lift the cell to look at the screen. He sighed with relief as he flashed Con an 'it's okay' grin. He hit the answer button. "Hi Chief…yes he is, hang on." Frank offered the phone to his brother. "Ezra wants to talk to you."

"Me?" Joe accepted the phone, "Sir?" He listened for a few seconds, then sat up straighter and reached to nudge Frank's leg. "I'm putting you on speakerphone, Chief." He pressed the screen and put the phone down onto the table. "Ezra, repeat what you said so the others can hear it."

"Hi boys and Vanessa."

"Vanessa and James aren't here, but carry on," Con said.

"One of my officers passed the store room where we put your phones and heard Joe's cell ringing. He answered and spoke to Nancy Drew's father. Carson is it?"

"What did he say?" Frank asked.

"A neighbor brought a Special Delivery letter around to him which had been incorrectly addressed, from Frank's lass, Nancy Drew. She's hiding out in a hotel in New York. Said she will hang on for Fenton to collect her, and it's an emergency."

Frank circled his fist in the air. "That's my girl. Which hotel, Ezra?"

"The Beaumont, Room 202."

"Thanks Chief, we're on our way. Thank God!" Frank cut the call off, headed for the hallway and came face-to-face with Mrs Holliday, and a tray of coffees.

"These can wait, young Frank. Go and get Nancy. Glad to see you've come to your senses."

-o0o-

Vanessa and James were delayed in their return journey by Vanessa's insistence they purchase a portable heater for the car. Then after, they became clogged in the rush-hour traffic of other commuters to get out of the city and home.

"I'm still trying to get my head around the fact Frank and Nancy were made to split up," Vanessa said. "Hasn't Arthur Gray got a heart?"

"He's an 'all business' guy by the sounds of it," James muttered. "I doubt he even thought of it that way."

They were twenty minutes shy of the Oaklands, the promise of hot drinks in their heads, possibly one of Mrs Holliday's delicious hot chocolates. Earlier, Vanessa propped her cell phone up in the cup holder of the car to charge it with the portable battery pack. When it rang, she reached to put it on loud speaker. "Hi Frank."

"Turn around. We know where Nan is. We're on our way, but you're closer."

Vanessa and James stared wide-eyed at each other. "Seriously?" Vanessa asked.

"She's in room 202 at the Beaumont Hotel. Do you know it?"

"I can GPS it." She pursed her lips, "I'm so miffed! We've trudged all over the city trying to find her. How did you find her in an hour from your comfy chair at the hotel? I'm starting to think there's something, erm—" she waggled her fingers "Something…otherworldly about you, Frank Hardy."

James laughed.

"I didn't find her, she found herself. Sent a Special Delivery letter to one of Carson's neighbors, asking Dad to pick her up. Carson phoned Joe's phone and one of Con's boys answered."

"Brilliant!" James said and prepared to turn the car around.

"No it isn't."

James did a double take. "Van?"

Frank said slowly, after a statically charged pause, "What did you say? I didn't quite catch that."

Vanessa raised her voice. "I said it isn't good! You said so yourself, Frank, the Posse are monitoring our phones, who's to say they weren't listening in on Mr Drew's conversation?"

Con's voice boomed over the line. "We're coming, but don't wait. Get to her now!"

"I wasn't planning on dawdling!" James said. "Hold tight, Van." He glanced in his mirrors, over his shoulder, and yanked on the parking brake. He took Mrs Holliday's car into a 180 degree spin and battled to straighten it up in the wet and cold conditions as they slewed sideways.

Vanessa gasped, snatched the strap above her head and braced her feet.

"Sorry Van," James muttered and mounted the central verge to use it as a short cut onto the return lane and rejoin the New York bound traffic. They got beeped by a couple of other cars, but James paid them no heed in his speed and urgency.

-o0o-

Nancy lay on top her bed at the Beaumont Hotel. The end credits of a movie she finished watching rolled by on the screen. She aimed the remote at the TV, turned it off, and let the control drop from her fingers so it bounced onto the mattress. She sighed, picked up the much thumbed book she borrowed from reception and started to read.

Three days passed as she waited for Fenton to collect her but saw no sign of him or the others so far. On top of the boredom, her finances were desperately low. If something didn't happen soon, she would have to bite the bullet and send Frank Hardy an email. Not that she wanted to, she didn't want to become directly embroiled in Frank Hardy's life.

She began to formulate a basic plan in her mind, while a fingernail tapped on her front teeth. "I'll email Frank Hardy and ask him to meet me somewhere. I'll hide and when I see him I'll go meet him."

It felt like her and Frank Hardy's roles were reversed from when he'd asked for her help with the original Pandora investigation. Back then, they similarly arranged to rendezvous outside of an office block at the rear of a jewellery store. When she'd got there, he'd peeled from the shadows, walked out into the snow, and into her arms. The 'walking-into-each-other's-arms' days were long gone. Goodness knows why they decided to start a romance in the first place - a logistical nightmare of missed dates, conflicted schedules and wasted opportunities.

'What's his email address?' She suddenly thought. 'Where's the information gone?' 'Come on eidetic memory, where are you? Don't fail me now! Huh, maybe I should email Joe instead, in fact, it makes more sense, and I can avoid bothering Frank Hardy that way.'

A quiet tap stole her attention. So quiet a knock she wasn't sure she heard it at all, but her head came up anyway. Her eyes scanned to the floor and she saw, under the door, a shadow of a pair of feet. Two more shadows joined the first two, and the knock resumed with more rigor.

"Mandy?" a voice called out.

Nancy had registered herself under the assumed name of 'Mandy' at the hotel. The beckoned voice belonged to Gemma from housekeeping. For once, Gemma hadn't simply walked in on her. Not that Nancy minded their customary chats, but on this occasion Gemma's failure to satisfy the usual habit made Nancy suspicious. Why wasn't she coming in? Then she felt a jolt of elation instead - were the second set of feet Fenton's?

Nancy sat up further and heard a man's voice say. "It's fine, open the door." It wasn't Fenton's voice! She knew the voice, but it wasn't Mr H's deep, smooth baritone. It wasn't anyone connected directly with Hardy, Riley and Son's Detective Agency. Nancy shot up off the bed and went for the window.

The key turned in the lock even as she struggled to pry the window open. She forced one latch to release, but couldn't budge the other. It had been over-painted so many times as to make it super-glued in place. In fact, she realised the entire window had been painted into the wood surround. Even if she had heaved it open to get out, she would have had to jump two stories to the concrete courtyard. It would still have been preferable to who stood beyond the door, who she would soon have to face.

She turned and took a couple of quick steps around the bed toward the small bathroom to barricade herself in, but before she could get even half way the door opened. With a feeling of dark dread, she found herself faced across the bed by the Red-Headed Man she'd run from earlier.

His position meant he now as good as barred Nancy's way to the bathroom.

Gemma stood next to him with a strange mixture of sympathy and regret on her face. "I'm sorry Mandy."

Nancy looked from her to the man, and appreciated why Gemma had cooperated so readily - he'd disguised himself as an EMT and held in his hand a large, red, medical bag. He attempted a friendly smile presumably for the benefit of the deception. Nancy glanced around the room for another out, but there wasn't anything, so instead she reached to grab the nearest thing to her - a ceramic lamp from the bedside table. With a yank, she had the power cable out of the socket, and wielded it for protection.

The Red-Headed Man took a step into the room and looked over his shoulder as a clatter filled their ears. Two men appeared with a medical gurney.

Nancy looked out of the window at the scruffy courtyard. She realised while she'd tried to get the window up, she'd subconsciously seen an ambulance down there. Its doors were wide open. Outside of it stood the woman she'd seen at the auction house. Nancy now knew their intentions towards her. She returned her gaze to witness the man smile insidiously at Gemma.

His fake friendliness didn't work as he looked like a wolf staring at a potential meal. "You can go, thank you for your cooperation, we can take it from here. Best to give her some privacy, and dignity." He put the bag down on the bed and opened the flap.

"No, NO!" Nancy shouted as Gemma backed out to let the gurney in. "Gemma, I'm not Mandy. My real name's Nancy Drew, I'm a private detective. I've been on the run from this man. He wishes to do me harm, he's not a paramedic. Please Gemma, phone the police. You know me, you've spent time with me, you know I'm not—"

"Disturbed?" the Red-Headed Man finished for her. He dropped the flap of the bag open onto the bed, turned to Gemma and softly laughed. "Private Detective? That's a new one. Last time—" He laughed a little too hard. "A spy, working undercover!"

"Please Gemma."

Gemma paused for a couple of seconds but dropped her gaze, turned, and walked out of the room, leaving Nancy on her own.

One of the two men went outside to watch Gemma go, and the other entered, removing any possibility of an escape route.

The Red-Headed Man picked up the medical bag, hefted it at his friend, who caught it, and put it down on the gurney. "Get ready." The third man reappeared in the doorway and headed into the room.

"Don't do what he's telling you to do," Nancy said. "He's going to kill me. You'll be an accessory to murder. They'll put you away for life!" One of the men glanced her way. "Think about it!"

"Don't talk to her," snapped the man. "Just do your job." He turned his eyes on Nancy, regarding her thoughtfully through those eyes which lacked human compassion. "Put the lamp down. You're won't do much good with it."

Nancy thought she'd test the theory and heaved it. As it left her hand she realized she'd thrown in haste. To launch it through the window to attract attention would have been better…too late now as the lamp hit his forearm and exploded. The Red-Headed Man proved the lamp wasn't going to do much good by running straight for her with the growl of a wild animal.

Nancy made a grab for the chair, but his hands were on her before she had more than a light hold on it. An arm slid around her middle, a hand enveloped her neck and her feet left the ground. He pulled her back and took the chair along with them. It butted up against the bed, tipped over, and her fingers were ripped clear. The room swirled and she found she'd come down onto the bed, on her back, pinned by the throat. He climbed astride her, and leered down so she slapped him. He punched back. The hit came in so hideously hard she didn't even yell out for the shock of it. The side of her face switched from a searing burn to numbness in a matter of seconds...mentally paralysed and utterly terrorized.

His hand shifted from her throat to her chin, gripped and pulled her face around to make her look at him. "Been a long time since anyone fought me. I like it."

She sensed the other two men move toward her, followed by a blindingly strong burst of light from a camera flash. Someone seized her left wrist to straighten her arm taut, and a cold swab rubbed on her inner elbow. She experienced a sting as they used a syringe to pump cold liquid into a vein, which swirled quickly up her arm and into her blood stream.

Nancy welcomed the feel of impending unconsciousness because at least she wouldn't see those eyes anymore. And she wouldn't feel so helpless, frightened, abandoned, and without hope.

-o0o-

James and Vanessa sprinted toward the hotel, but Vanessa struggled to keep pace with her fitter and faster brother. It proved impossible to get anywhere close to the hotel in their car - the rush-hour traffic so bad they'd been forced to abandon the vehicle in a side road, and finish their journey on foot.

Vanessa had wondered what her limitations would be once out in the field, and now she knew - her level of fitness, or lack thereof! Exhausted, she pulled up short. James stopped with her and turned confused. "Don't…hold back…Jimmy…go...I'll catch up," she said through labored breaths.

"You sure?"

"Yeah…can't keep up…get to…Nancy." She waved him off.

"Okay." With one last backward glance, he put on a burst of speed and dashed off.

In a series of short bursts, Vanessa eventually had the hotel in sight, but she couldn't see James anymore. She slowed, and took her gloves off to stuff them into her pocket - her exertions had overheated her. Her chest felt fit to explode so she leaned forward with her hands on her knees and took great gulps of air until her breaths regulated. 'Wow, how unfit am I?' She stood upright, readjusted her scarf and resumed her journey.

Once reached, she found the Beaumont to be a boxy shaped building, well past its prime, and in desperate need of refurbishment. In fact, the hotel screamed of somewhere fast going out of business. Non-existent signage meant she could not fathom the location of the hotel entrance. She walked to the right, and found herself to the rear in some sort of concreted off area - an area which at one time offered the luxury of an attractive courtyard. Now, the only opulence on offer were broken benches positioned around a conked out fountain.

Then Vanessa saw it and froze in her tracks – an ambulance…that ambulance. She didn't know how she knew, call it instinct if you like, but it wasn't any old ambulance. The back doors were open with a gurney aboard, a patient stretched out on it. A woman leaned over the patient as two men climbed into the front seats. Vanessa narrowed her eyes and identified the woman as the same female responsible for Frank's spiked drink. Vanessa surmised that as she recognised her as that woman, then that patient could only be her friend, Nancy Drew.

'James hasn't been quick enough. Where is he?'

Vanessa put aside her initial concern for James and weighed her chances of pulling Nancy from the back of the ambulance. She figured if she acted quickly, and took the woman by surprise, she could overpower her, and pull Nancy away. As Vanessa had a height and weight advantage, she felt confident she could overpower the woman - it's one thing to drug someone in order to make them easy to move, quite another to face someone physically able to defend themselves or even attack!

"Vanessa Bender," hissed a whispered voice right into her ear.

Vanessa shuddered at the sudden murmur, and the warm, breathy intrusion in her ear and swung around. She found herself face-to-face with a walking nightmare of a man who immediately bore down on her. He had the most horrible, dead eyes she'd ever seen. She'd experienced Frank's version of this, his protective mask born from his mental scars, but this man's eyes were pure evil and empty of human empathy or common kindness. Vanessa tripped backward away from him, but the Red-Headed Man kept easy pace with her.

His hand shot out and grabbed her by the throat. "I knew Nancy Drew must have had help," he said and began to push Vanessa toward the ambulance.

Vanessa knew her skin would bruise from the tight pressure of his fingers, and desperately tried to dislodge his hand. She tried to wedge her finger nails underneath to pry him loose, but his strength made dislodging his hold impossible. With no other choice but to comply, she tried to shout for help instead, but the position and pressure of his fingers gagged her, and his grip prevented her from even breathing properly. Presently, she felt her legs up against the steps of the vehicle, and the Red-Headed Man made an easy job of levering her up the steps and on board. Once there, he reached out with his free hand, and pulled the doors shut.

In the back, Vanessa tripped and had to take a big step back. Her legs were now jammed up on the woman in her way. "Give me some room," the woman snapped and gave Vanessa a shove. The medical bag dropped down next to Vanessa's legs. The woman kicked it and it slid toward the back doors.

The man wrapped his free arm around Vanessa's waist, pulled her close, and turned them until her back pressed against the doors. Vanessa saw Nancy's unconscious body for a split second before the man's head moved in the way, and blocked her view.

"What are you doing?" asked the woman. "Why have you brought her on board? We don't need her; we've got what we want. And what's this?"

From the tone of the woman's voice alone, Vanessa's wondered if the Red-Headed man had done something nasty to Nancy.

"She hit me."

Yes, something nasty had been done.

The woman continued, "We agreed she's mine. We agreed I could have a couple of days grace to get the code out of her, and only then could you have your fun. Beating the code out of her won't work and you know it. You get Frank Hardy now I've got Nancy Drew, that's the deal! Miss Drew's got the photographic memory so she's valuable. Have your fun with Miss Bender, but NOT Miss Drew!"

The man shrugged his shoulders.

"Finish Miss Bender and we'll go. It'll send Hardy a clear message, might make him comply with our demands."

'Finish? Finish What?'

The man's head turned to Vanessa and he pressed himself close, so close she could feel the heat of his powerful body and smell his musk - it made her feel sick. She braced her palms against his chest and attempted to push him off, but she faced an immovable obstacle.

He positioned his face so they were eye-to-eye, with their noses almost touching. He slowly slid his free hand to grip her silky scarf, and then moved his other hand to grasp the opposite side. He began to pull and tighten the cloth about her neck…slowly, so slowly. "Most don't fight, Vanessa Bender, will you fight me? Nancy did, will you?" He tipped his head and watched, fascinated, enjoying the horror Vanessa expressed in her gray/blue eyes.

How do you fight someone so powerful? How can you beat someone so big when all you are is a girl? Vanessa did fight him, but winning wasn't an option, not against an opponent so totally overpowering and terrifying and in control. She simply couldn't fight hard enough.