Chapter 19 — In our end is our beginning.

Whoosh. Beep. Whoosh. Beep. Whoosh. Beep.

The sounds were so faint. Nancy tried to listen more closely. She knew she didn't like those sounds. They meant something bad had happened. What had happened?

Whoosh. Beep. Whoosh. Beep. Whoosh. Beep.

Oh. Hospital sounds. A heart monitor and an IV drip. Now that she knew that, she recognized the smell too, along with how badly her body ached. A single tear slipped over her cheekbone and past her ear onto the pillow. Ned was gone, and she was in the hospital. As much as the pain racked her body, it was nothing compared to the pain in her soul. She was a widow now…

Wait…that wasn't quite right. Ned had been gone over five years. She'd opened a dry cleaning store and sworn off mysteries. Hadn't she? The sickening thought struck her that maybe it had been some elaborate dream. Maybe she was still in the hospital and her arduous journey of starting over hadn't even begun.

A warm hand brushed away the tear and cupped her cheek. "Nancy?" a voice whispered. It was a man's voice, deep and gentle. But it wasn't Ned. She tried to force her eyes open, but the light was so bright she closed them again. "I'll close the shade," the voice said.

Nancy took a slow, deep breath and tried to catalog what hurt. Everything, she decided. Her throat was raw, abdominal muscles were screaming with each breath, her shoulders and arms felt like she'd done about a thousand push ups. She wiggled her toes experimentally. Okay, her legs and feet didn't feel too bad. But what had happened?

There was the sound of a chair being dragged up close to the bed and a sharp, piney scent. It reminded her of something. Something…reassuring. Something safe.

"Do you want to sit up and try to drink some water?"

She managed a nod, and the whirring motor of the bed slowly raised her into a sitting position. The movement hurt, and a soft sound escaped her. The bed stopped and the warm hand covered hers. "Sorry," the voice murmured.

Nancy forced her eyes to open and peered blearily at the handsome face so close to hers, messy dark hair falling over his forehead. It was that detective that came to the store, Detective Hardy. Her memories came back in a dizzying flood. Frank. His name was Frank. And Ned was gone. And she was doing okay. Not perfect, but better. And thinking about him didn't always hurt as much as it had. And Frank was…Frank was something worth taking the time to consider. A good and honest man. There was no telling what that was going to look like, but she didn't have to think about that right now.

All the pieces whirring around in her brain finally fell into place. Marisol Williams was dead. George's grandmother was responsible for this whole mess. That had to be dealt with first. "Carmen," she said, and was confused at why her voice sounded so rough and scratchy, her throat on fire.

"Here, drink this," he said, bringing a cup with a straw to her mouth. She gratefully swallowed the cool water. "Carmen is in custody. And Iola made sure George was released on her own recognizance."

"What happened?" she croaked.

Frank smiled. "I was hoping you could fill in some gaps. Carmen is refusing to say anything." He brushed her hair back from her face and covered her hand with his again.

Nancy caught the piney scent of his aftershave as he shifted back into his chair. She pulled her hand out from under his and saw him visibly stiffen, lifting his hand away. But she grabbed it and pressed her palm against his, threading their fingers together. A soft, relieved expression crossed his face.

Now what did she remember? She closed her eyes briefly, trying to place herself back in the Faynes' living room. "We were having tea," she whispered, seeing the cup fall from her hand and break against the edge of the coffee table. "Jesus was crying, no, I mean bleeding." She opened her eyes. "There was blood."

Frank nodded. "You're right on both counts. I have no doubt this whole horrible tragedy makes Jesus weep. And Forensics found droplets of Marisol's blood on the crucifix by the front door and baseboards. George told us there had been a rug on the floor that caught most of it. She dumped it in a dumpster several blocks away."

"George was just trying…" Her voice caught and she coughed, wincing at the pain.

"I know," he said soothingly. "You were right about George. She came home from work that night and found Marisol's body and her grandmother bustling around the place trying to clean up. She said Carmen insisted they take the body to Fernandez's place, and kept quoting all sorts of Bible verses about justice."

Oh, thank goodness. Poor George, what a burden to bear, trying to protect the woman that had cared for her for so long. "Why am I here?" she asked, her voice barely a sigh. She was going to fall asleep again soon, she could feel it, her body fighting against her efforts to stay awake.

"Carmen put several crushed up sleeping pills in the tea, close to a lethal amount."

"Oh," she sighed softly. "I remember feeling dizzy. I was trying to get my phone to call you and I couldn't. Why does everything hurt?"

"The doctors had to pump your stomach. I…I found you just in time." His thumb rubbed over her hand, maybe reassuring himself as much as her that it was over and she was still here.

Nancy smiled. Or tried to. She couldn't tell if she'd quite managed it. It was like being wrapped in a warm blanket, knowing he cared about her. As soon as she could speak more than a few words at a time she'd ask if the case was wrapped up enough to invite him for a drink. Or maybe she could convince him to try a cup of tea.


One week later…

The clock chimed half past three. Nancy widened her eyes to apply a layer of mascara, and wondered why her lips always parted when she did that. She made a fish face at herself in the mirror and tossed the mascara tube back in her drawer. She shouldn't be trying so hard. It wasn't a date. She was meeting with Mr. Morton and Detective Hardy squared to debrief the case and review her statements before Carmen's arraignment.

But there was still a flutter of anticipation in her chest as she put in a pair of pearl earrings. She hadn't seen Frank at all since that first day in the hospital. It was Hardy 2.0 who came to check on her and take her official statement. Joe had given her an apologetic smile and produced a vase of flowers on Frank's behalf, saying as soon as Carmen had her arraignment hearing he and Chet would be more than happy to send them out on a date. Nancy had glared and then laughed. Maybe without the stress of the investigation hanging over her, Joe's charm wasn't quite as annoying as she'd thought. If nothing else, she could appreciate a relationship that was strong enough to keep two brothers working together.

Nancy took one last look in the mirror and gave herself an encouraging nod. She'd opted for a simple blue dress and sweater set rather than slacks and a blazer. Hopefully it looked feminine but not that she was trying too hard. She started up her car and backed out of the driveway, feeling a sad pang at seeing the little yellow house next door. A For Sale sign had been placed in the front yard. She'd tried several times to text and call George, wanting her to know she didn't hold it against her, that she was here to help if George wanted it. But so far, the young woman had stayed away and silent. Nancy wasn't going to give up, though. She made sure that nice young policeman, Burt Eddleton, was keeping an eye on the girl, and he had informed her that George had been sentenced to community service hours and she'd found a little apartment closer to the college. Maybe in another month or so Nancy would try again. For all the tragic events that had happened, the neighborhood still felt peaceful and friendly to her. Even the Rainers across the street had gotten a new dog, and were often walking the tiny bouncy puppy up and down the street.

Java Joint, the little coffee shop where she was supposed to meet the three men, was pretty quiet at four o'clock on a weekday afternoon. Nancy entered, peering in the dim light to see if she was the first to arrive. A figure near the back waved to her. She walked towards it, finally able to make out Mr. Morton and the two Hardys, who all stood as she approached the table. She caught Frank's eye, pleased at the warm smile that answered her own. She slipped into the seat beside him and a mug was slid towards her. "Irish Breakfast tea, splash of milk, no sugar," the three men announced in unison.

Nancy laughed and picked up the mug, lifting it in a mock toast. "There are at least a thousand ways I wish this whole thing had been different. But thank you. You are all very good at your jobs and I am grateful you were working this case."

Mr. Morton stood and offered Nancy his hand. "Ms. Drew, it was a pleasure working for you. I'll be sure to send my bill in the morning," he added with a grin. "And since I have no further questions or things to discuss, I'll be on my way."

He grabbed up the briefcase beside him and headed toward the door, Nancy looking after him in bewilderment. "But I thought we were going over my statement," she spluttered.

Joe stood and clapped his brother on the shoulder. "Looks like everything is wrapped up pretty well to me," he said cheerfully, offering Nancy a wink.

Frank shook his head smiling, at his brother. "Are you rushing off to one of your dates?"

For the first time since Nancy had met him, Joe Hardy looked positively sheepish. "I'm, uh, not currently in the market," he began slowly.

Frank furrowed his brow, looking at his brother skeptically. Then his face cleared and he laughed, that warm chuckle that Nancy loved. "Iola Morton," he said sagely. "You just can't let her go, can you?"

And Joe's face flashed sad, hopeful and uncertain in quick succession. "She asked," he said simply with a slight shrug. "She said she'd like to grab a drink and catch up when her case with George was concluded. And then she smiled and said yes, she was asking me out on a date." He grinned and punched Frank gently on the shoulder. "So it seems to me like she can't let me go either." He winked at Nancy once more and left, whistling.

Frank huffed and then laughed again. "It looks like maybe we've been set up."

Nancy cradled the mug of tea in her hands and took a sip, smiling into the cup. "Well, I can't say I'm disappointed," she said quietly.

Settling back in his chair and pulling his cup of coffee closer to him, Frank let out a deep breath. "I'm glad to hear that. I did wonder if once the crisis was over you might rethink the whole thing. You know how it is with people who are thrown together in stressful situations…" He offered a sheepish shrug.

"I wondered if you were just a savior type, only interested when there was a damsel in distress involved," Nancy countered with a raised eyebrow.

Frank snorted. "Damsel in distress is not the phrase that jumps to mind in your case. You've shown your mettle over and over again through all this. How are you feeling, by the way?"

"Fully recovered," she smiled. "And I've decided a few things."

"Oh?"

Nancy nodded, feeling the resolve over her tentative plans growing. It was time, maybe past time, to move forward and stop pretending she could create a different life for herself. "I'm selling the dry cleaning store and going home for a little while."

Surprise and then disappointment crossed Frank's face. "I see," he began slowly.

"Just for a break," she said, reaching impulsively for his hand. "I haven't been home much at all since Ned died. It was just too hard. But I'm ready now. And then I'll be back. I'm going to apply for a PI license in New York and find someone already established in the city to work for, get my feet back under me doing what I love and what I know I'm good at."

Frank nodded, rubbing at his chin thoughtfully with his free hand. "It's a funny old world. My dad's a retired PI. My brother and I helped him out on several cases and I always thought that was the route Joe and I would go. But Dad recommended we do a few years with a police force to get that side of things under our belts. Turns out we loved it and life happened and here we still are."

"Like you said, life happens. Maybe there's still a PI license in your future," Nancy said with a laugh, squeezing his hand.

His thumb rubbed over her knuckles, just like he'd done at the hospital, and he sighed. "Nancy, I need you to know…my first marriage didn't end well. I can't…well, I have a hard time not bringing the job home. I wasn't able to be the husband Callie wanted me to be, and—"

"I get that," she interrupted. "Truly. I beat myself up over the same thing. Look, I think some things in life you don't ever really get over. You just move on, knowing they're a part of you. I know we're both bringing a lot of baggage into this, and I have no idea what we're really getting into here or what it's going to look like, but…" she pulled her hand away and gestured between them, hoping this was making sense, "I feel like we have this…this affinity between us. That deep down something inside of me is drawn to something inside of you. Isn't it worth at least trying?"

Frank picked up his coffee cup, studying her intently as he took a slow sip. "Yeah," he said after a moment. "I definitely think it's worth trying. His phone, lying on the tabletop, buzzed at that moment and he made a rueful face as he picked it up. "And so ends our evening," he said, shaking his head as he read the message. "Possible drowning. I have to go."

"No problem," Nancy said, trying not to feel disappointed at the first hiccup. "Listen, I've closed the store and have a broker handling the sale. I'm planning to be away for two weeks. How about you call when you can and when I'm back in town we'll try to go out on an actual date?"

His dark eyes lit up, and he smiled in a way that made Nancy feel a little gooey inside. "I would like nothing better," he said. "And I know Chet has a PI that he uses on his cases. You could reach out and see if he's looking to hire some help."

"I will absolutely do that," she said, as they both stood to leave. "Why don't you walk me to my car?"

His hand on the small of her back as they left the dark little coffee shop felt just right, and she paused with her car door open, turning towards him. "I hope the case isn't too awful tonight. Call me when you can," she smiled.

"Oh I will be texting you shortly to make sure you got home all right," he replied, a teasing smile on his face. "And I'll probably call tomorrow to say good morning. And then text you later to see how your day is going, and—"

Nancy laughed and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Good. Then I won't feel silly thinking about you so often." She ducked into the car, knowing he was going to stand there and watch until she'd driven safely away. A bouncy pop song started on the radio and she found herself humming along. She was ready now, ready to step into a new springtime, for the year and for her life.


** And that wraps it up! I am beyond thankful for each one of you who read, favorited, and reviewed the story. A special thanks to Jilsen and Charis77 for their inspriation, encouragment, and reading the first draft of this idea. And thanks to Drumboy100, Elizabeth K. Joan, novembershowers, angelicakiss, Margaret66, Candylou, and Max2013 for reviewing so often! I wish we could all sit together and have a cup of tea and talk about stories. :)