Chapter Twenty-Nine
"So, tell me everything," Carson requested. He lifted a glass to his lips, the alcohol burning as he swallowed. "Start with why Nancy can't talk."
Fenton sighed, his body screaming for sleep. He took a swig of his own drink, cringing at the burn before placing the glass on the table. "When Tannen returned with Nick and Marco, that's when all hell broke loose."
"Who are they?"
"Angelo Biancci's men."
The color drained from Carson's face, worry creasing his forehead. "What does he have to do with the jewels?"
"He was Tannen's silent partner," Fenton answered, watching the reaction closely. "What do you know about Angelo?"
Carson exhaled sharply, gripping his glass. "Turns out, he's been working with the Hartleys at my firm. I wouldn't have believed it until one of my partners admitted it. I might lose everything because of it."
Fenton ran a hand through his greying hair, frustration evident in the tension of his shoulders. "This just keeps getting better and better."
A sharp voice cut through the conversation. "Why aren't you in bed, Fenton?"
Fenton flinched, instinctively shifting his arm over his drink as Gertrude strode into the kitchen. Her sharp eyes immediately locked onto the glass, her face darkening in disapproval.
"And you're drinking?"
"I was just talking to Carson, bringing him up to date," he defended. "I was only being a good host."
Carson fought the urge to smirk as Gertrude planted her hands on her hips, her expression unwavering. "And I'm sure he would have understood if you went to bed."
Fenton sighed. "Trudy, I'm fine."
Carson chuckled. "It's okay, Fenton. Hannah does the same to me at times. It's best not to argue."
"See?" Gertrude said, her expression triumphant.
Fenton grumbled but stood, stretching with exaggerated reluctance. "Fine. Oh, did you have the chance to talk to Vinny?"
"Fenton!" Gertrude swiped at him, but he ducked out of reach, laughing as he disappeared down the hall.
Carson shook his head. "Now I see where Frank and Joe get their spats from."
"I think I heard them a few moments ago too," she answered. "It's good to have the family back together."
Carson nodded in agreement as he gathered the glasses and rinsed them in the sink before turning to face Gertrude. "How is Nancy? I'm worried about her."
Gertrude's expression softened. "As you should be," she admitted. "I think she fell asleep in the tub and must have had a nasty dream. I might have startled her when I touched her. She's in bed now, or at least she should be. I just hope Nancy gets some sleep. I hate seeing her like this."
Carson nodded. "I'll check on her before heading to bed. Thank you for taking care of her."
"Nancy has always been a part of this family," she said firmly, placing a hand on his arm. Then, after a brief pause, she added, "And thank you for bringing Frank home. You have no idea how much we've missed him."
Carson hesitated, then nodded. "I know. An old friend of mine was his professor at Iowa and told me about Frank when he came to see me a few months ago. I went to visit Frank a few weeks ago and offered him a job. He's been working for me for about two weeks—though I'm not sure for how much longer."
"Because of what happened with the Hartleys?"
"No, because it's not what he wants to do."
Gertrude's frown deepened. "What do you mean?"
Carson exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. "Frank worked hard to get his law degree but in just the few short weeks he was with me, I could tell he wanted something was like he knew he was missing something." He hesitated, then added, "He's restless, Trudy. He's been trying to convince himself that he can build a new life, but I can tell—he still feels like he doesn't belong anywhere."
Gertrude's expression softened, a flicker of understanding crossing her face. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"I wanted him to reach out to Fenton on his own," Carson admitted. "He needed to take that step for himself—to start healing. Leaving still weighs on him, and he hasn't let go of the guilt over Laura. But being around me and Nancy… it's helped, at least a little."
Gertrude sighed, nodding in understanding. "Thank you for being there for him."
"He's a good man, Trudy. You should be proud of what he's accomplished."
"I am."
A moment of silence hung between them, heavy yet full of unspoken gratitude. Gertrude sniffled slightly before clearing her throat. "I have you in Frank's old room, Carson. The sheets are fresh, so you should be comfortable. If you need anything, let me know."
Carson smiled. "Thank you, Trudy. I'm sure I'll be fine." He paused at the doorway, then added, "See you in the morning. And… thanks again."
Nancy startled awake, staring at the dark shadows on the ceiling. Nightmares plagued her dreams—visions of Owen, Nick, Angelo Biancci, and even von Brahn. Though she had never met any of the three men, they were hell-bent on seeing her dead. But it was von Brahn who frightened her the most. She remembered Henry's behavior when she first met him—he had been kind, yet there was a constant shadow of fear in his eyes when he spoke of von Brahn. Friedrich von Brahn, a vicious murderer who had betrayed his own family, cast a dark pall over Henry's life.
Nancy could still hear the tremor in Henry's voice, the way his eyes would dart nervously as if seeking danger around them. The fear Henry had for von Brahn ran deeper than anything Nancy had ever seen, and it had unsettled her from the start. She never wanted to cross paths with the man, but unfortunately, it had happened. Her worst fears had nearly come true—if it hadn't been for Vincenzo Martinelli, neither she nor the Hardy brothers would be alive today.
Shivering, Nancy pulled the covers to her neck and squeezed her eyes shut. Seconds later, her eyes snapped open again, her breathing quickening. The images replayed in her mind like a movie reel, and she knew she wouldn't get any more sleep that night.
The small alarm clock on the bedside table ticked softly, drawing her attention. The glowing numbers read 5:14. Nancy sighed, swung her legs off the bed, and reached for the clothes she had set out the night before. She didn't want to stay in bed, to let the nightmares linger in her mind. She dressed quickly, the fabric of the high-waisted capris and button-down shirt offering a semblance of normalcy. She adjusted the belt with a steadying breath, though the calm she tried to summon didn't quite settle within her.
As she made her way down the stairs, she could feel the remnants of fear still gnawing at her. The house was silent, the only sound the soft ticking of the clock on the wall. She needed something to ground her, something to remind her that she was still in control, still able to face the day, no matter how heavy her heart felt.
Turning on the kitchen light, Nancy filled the tea kettle with water and waited for it to heat up. Her thoughts went to Henry, wondering where he was and if he was safe. Von Brahn had revealed the night before that Henry was his nephew—something Henry had never told her. That secrecy nagged at her. What else had he been hiding?
The young man was good-looking and mysterious, but something about his blond features turned her off. Maybe it was unfair, but she had always been drawn to the tall, dark, and handsome type. That thought led her, inevitably, to Ned.
Nancy had loved him, but even in their short marriage, something had always felt… off. Like she was meant to be with someone else.
Frank. His name surfaced in her mind as if in answer to her thoughts. He was so different from Ned, yet there had always been an unspoken understanding between them, a connection she couldn't quite explain. He challenged her, supported her, and at times, made her question everything she thought she knew about her heart.
When Frank disappeared eight years ago, she never got the chance to say what she wanted—what she needed to say. And then, just like that, he had reappeared at her father's house and business, as if nothing had changed. Frustration burned in her. He hadn't been there when she needed him most—after Ned died, after Owen forced his way into her life.
How else was she supposed to feel now that Frank had come back?
Nancy sighed and rubbed her temples. This wasn't the morning for tangled emotions and conflicted feelings. She just needed to get through the day without last night's nightmares dragging her under. The kettle whistled, pulling her back to the present. She poured herself a cup of tea and sat at the linoleum-topped table, trying to ground herself.
Her mind wandered back to Frank. His sudden reappearance stirred up feelings she thought were long buried. It wasn't just the past she was facing; it was the unspoken connection they had. She had never fully explored what might have been between them, not when Ned was alive, and not while Callie was in the picture. But now, with the past resurfacing, the questions lingered.
Guilt tugged at her. She still missed Ned, but somehow, thinking of Frank didn't feel like betrayal.
It's okay. A soft voice seemed to echo in her mind. The warmth that followed melted the knot of guilt in her chest. She closed her eyes, letting the tears slip down her face. After a moment, she folded her hands on the table, bowed her head, and prayed in silence. Peace gradually filled the space where the fear and guilt had been.
"Nancy?"
Her blue eyes fluttered open, and she saw Frank standing in the kitchen doorway, surprise on his face. He was dressed casually in a white t-shirt and faded jeans, his hair slightly ruffled from sleep. Nancy quickly swiped her face, trying to hide the emotions that threatened to spill.
"Frank!" she sniffled, rising from her chair. Her voice betrayed the vulnerability she had just worked to suppress. "I... I didn't hear you get up."
"I have a talent for stealth," he joked, but as soon as he saw her expression, his humor faded. His face softened with concern. "Are you okay? What are you doing up so early?"
Nancy quickly glanced at the wall clock, surprised to see it was already 6:45. "I... I couldn't sleep," she stammered. "I didn't want to bother anyone, so I came down here for a cup of tea. I'll leave if you need me to."
She started to move toward the door when Frank caught her arm. Nancy flinched, pulling her arm away. She tripped, nearly falling, but Frank quickly steadied her.
"Woah," he said, his voice husky. "You don't have to leave. I didn't mean to frighten you."
"I'm okay," she quickly replied, her face flushing a deep shade of red. Frank gently released her, concern etched on his face.
"This isn't like you, Nancy," Frank said, stepping closer. He reached out but stopped when he saw her tense. Her emotional state hadn't gone unnoticed, and he wanted to help. "Last night, you were terrified of someone you've never even met, and now you're up before 7 in the morning. Something's bothering you. Please, tell me what's going on. I want to help."
"I... I..." Nancy met his gaze but quickly looked away. "You wouldn't understand."
He gently took her hand, tilting her face back toward him. "Try me."
Nancy bit her lip, her eyes brimming with unshed tears, but she remained silent.
"Nan, I've never seen you like this," Frank said softly, his eyes searching hers. "You've always been so strong."
"I'm not weak!" she suddenly cried, the outburst catching him off guard.
"I didn't say that," he replied calmly, gently squeezing her hand. Nancy opened her mouth to protest, but before she could, Frank pulled her into a hug. She resisted at first, stiff in his arms, but soon her body relaxed. The dam inside her broke, and she began to sob, her body trembling against his.
Nancy pulled back slightly from Frank's embrace, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. She tried to steady her breath, but the emotional weight of the moment was still too much.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I didn't mean to—"
"You don't have to apologize," Frank said gently, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. His touch was tender, but Nancy felt a flutter of something deeper in her chest. Something she wasn't ready to confront.
She took a step back, unsure of how to handle the warmth spreading through her. "I don't want to burden anyone. I'm just... I'm just so tired of feeling like I'm not in control of anything."
Frank's brow furrowed, concern deepening in his gaze. "Nancy, you don't have to carry everything on your own. You have your dad, Joe...me."
Her heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in his voice, but the words felt too much—too loaded. She couldn't let him in like that. Not now, not when everything was so uncertain.
"I know," she said quietly, trying to pull herself together. "I just... I don't know what to do anymore."
Frank stepped closer again, his voice soft but firm. "You don't have to have all the answers. But you don't have to face it alone, either."
Nancy swallowed hard. Her chest tightened, and for a moment, she was lost in the depth of his words, the weight of his presence. But she couldn't let herself fall into that space. She couldn't allow herself to feel that pull when she was still grieving, when everything felt so complicated, and when she wasn't sure if her feelings for him were more than just the comfort of a long-time friend.
"I can't," she whispered, almost to herself. "I can't do this."
"Please, Nancy," Frank pleaded, gently taking her hand. He wasn't trying to push her, but he wasn't about to let her go, either. His eyes, soft and filled with concern, didn't leave hers.
The floor creaked, and both turned to see Joe cautiously stepping into the kitchen. His usual playful demeanor was gone. His eyes darted between his brother and Nancy, understanding that now wasn't the time for jokes.
"Am I interrupting something?" Joe's voice was careful, steady, no trace of teasing.
"No, Joe," Nancy sniffled, a fragile smile pulling at the corners of her lips as she pulled away from Frank. "I was just leaving."
Joe raised an eyebrow, still watching her with concern. "What are you doing up so early? I thought you'd be sleeping all day."
Nancy's frustration bubbled to the surface, her emotions raw. "What is with everyone needing to know why I'm not sleeping?" she suddenly cried, stepping toward the hallway. "I'm fine! I said that already, and I don't need you two bossing me around to get more sleep!"
Frank's calm voice cut through the tension. "Nancy," he said softly, his hand reaching out to her as he moved closer. "We're worried about you. That's all."
Nancy stopped, but didn't turn around. The words hung heavy in the air. She didn't know how to explain what was happening inside her, the turmoil she couldn't control. With a quiet, strained sigh, she finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper, "I just need some space."
Joe looked at Frank, then back at Nancy, his face softening. "We just want to help, okay?"
"What is going on here?" Fenton cried from the hallway. He gently touched Nancy as he passed her though she shied away from him. Her reaction didn't go unnoticed and he looked to his sons for explanation.
"Don't look at me," Joe muttered, holding up his arms defensively. "I just woke up and came down here."
The doorbell rang though no one moved to answer it.
"Will someone please tell me what is going on?" Fenton repeated, his irritation rising.
"Fenton!" Gertrude yelled from the door.
"What!?"
"You need to come here."
Fenton grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. "After I see what my darling sister needs, I want one of you to explain to me what happened just now. Understand?"
He walked away leaving the brothers and Nancy in an awkward silence. She stared at the floor, her lower lip trembling slightly. Frank and Joe exchanged looks, with the younger brother nodding toward Nancy, urging Frank to do something.
Nancy lifted her head just in time to see the exchange, her eyes narrowing, knowing exactly what Joe was trying to do. She scoffed, exasperated, and turned away from them to go down the hall.
"Nancy, wait." Frank took a half-step forward, his hand twitching at his side, but he let her go, pressing his lips into a thin line.
"What did you do?" his brother asked, his eyes following Nancy.
"Not now, Joe," he muttered.
Nancy stopped just outside the kitchen, her attention on the group talking just inside the foyer. Frank and Joe came up behind her, also noticing their father talking to Chief Collig and the two FBI agents.
Nancy's fingers curled into fists at her sides, her pulse quickening as she studied the grim faces in the foyer. A glance at Frank and Joe told her they were just as tense, their shoulders squared as they listened.
"Why are you here so early, Ezra?" Fenton asked. "It's barely 7:30."
"Yes, I know, Fenton," the chief replied, his face haggard. "We had a development and we need to address it sooner rather than later."
"Would you like anything to drink?" Gertrude offered, gesturing toward the kitchen. "Water, coffee?"
"No, thank you, Trudy," he answered with a smile. He looked up the stairs as Carson descended. The lawyer looked confused, stopping a few steps from the bottom. "I don't think this will take long."
"What's this all about?" Fenton asked, his eyes shifting to the agents.
Collig's gaze swept over the Hardys and Drews before settling on Nancy. She stiffened under his scrutiny, her stomach twisting. Why was he looking at her like that?
"After you left last night," the chief began, addressing the group, "we started interrogating some of the men who were with our friend von Brahn. Thanks to Martinelli, we managed to apprehend a few who had been waiting around the corner for their leader. One of them stood out—he insisted he wasn't with them. That he was innocent."
"Do you believe him?" Carson asked.
"I will once we get confirmation as to who he really is," Agent Walker said gruffly. He glanced at Nancy, who shrank back, stopping when she bumped into Frank. She felt like a caged animal as the rest of the group started to look her way.
"W...what did I do?" Nancy stuttered, her eyes going wide in alarm.
"Nothing, Nancy," Collig replied gently, his tone soothing. Agent Anderson stepped out the front door, his face set in a grim expression. "We just need you to identify someone."
"Me? How would I know...?" Nancy trailed off, her words faltering as Anderson returned, pulling a blonde-haired man behind him.
Nancy's breath caught in her throat as her gaze locked onto the man. The ancient memory of their conversation years before flooded her mind. Her heart lurched in her chest. There was no mistaking him—Henry.
For a moment, time seemed to freeze. Nancy, already shaken from her encounter with Frank, found her emotions now overwhelming her. Her hands trembled, her chest tightening. She wanted to reach out, to say his name, but the words stuck in her throat. Her legs shook beneath her, threatening to give way.
"Nancy?" Frank's voice was gentle, though it seemed to come from a great distance.
"Are you okay?" Fenton stepped forward, his voice thick with concern.
Nancy opened her mouth to speak, but her vision blurred. The world swirled around her as her heartbeat pounded in her ears. Her legs began to buckle, and before she could react, her eyes rolled up into her head. She collapsed into Frank, who quickly caught her, his strong arms steadying her. The brothers gently eased her to the ground as everything went dark. The last thing she remembered was Frank's concerned face, and then...nothing.
Author's Note:
I hope that everyone is having a great week so far! Thank you to everyone who left reviews for the last chapter and a special thanks to those who gave their input on Past Transgressions. I am still thinking about what I am going to do though a thought did cross my mind to publish the update on another platform and leave the one here in place. I do want to finish this story before I do anything else though. So, now we have Henry entering. We'll hear his story soon. Please bear with me on the next chapter. My new class starts on Sunday so my energy and brain are going to be more focused on that until further notice. Plus, we have a really busy week next as my oldest daughter is participating in her first musical at school at the end of the week. She is so excited and so are we! They're performing The Little Mermaid and she's part of the ensemble as a fish, shadow, and maid. I hope that everyone has a great day and I will see you when I can! God bless!