Chapter Thirty
Nancy heard an argument break out, though she didn't understand what was going on. A warm cloth touched her forehead, and her hand weakly reached up to swipe it away.
"Nancy?" said a familiar voice, tinged with concern.
The shouting dulled as Fenton Hardy's voice rose, ordering someone into the parlor. A moment later, the pocket doors slid shut with a quiet thud.
Nancy heard the voice again. She opened her eyes to see Frank staring down at her, worry etched across his handsome features. Her father, Joe, and Gertrude—who was holding the cloth—were also gathered around her.
"There you are, sweetheart," Carson said with a smile, though his eyes betrayed his worry. He took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "We were worried about you."
"Huh?" she murmured. She felt the hard floor beneath her, her head nestled in the crook of Frank's arm. "What...what am I doing on the floor?"
The four exchanged dark looks—something Nancy didn't miss.
"What?"
"Nancy," Frank said gently, "you fainted."
"Rather spectacularly, I might add," Joe chimed in with a half-smile.
"Joseph Hardy!" Gertrude snapped, shooting him a look. He shrank back, clamping his mouth shut. Gertrude turned to Nancy, her expression softening. "Don't you remember, dear?"
"No, I didn't," Nancy said, puzzled. She looked from one face to the next, waiting for someone to laugh, to tell her it was a joke. "I was just in the kitchen. That's all I remember."
She tried to get up, but Carson and Gertrude gently pressed her back.
"Don't move, Nancy," Gertrude said firmly. "I'll have Dr. Gates check you out before you so much as stand up."
"I'm fine," Nancy insisted, struggling upright. "And I don't need a doctor."
With help from Frank and Joe, she managed to get to her feet, a proud smirk tugging at her lips. "See?" she said, triumphant. "I'm fine."
No sooner had she said it than her eyes rolled back and her knees gave way. Frank caught her swiftly, scooping her into his arms before she hit the ground.
"You were saying?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I'm fine," Nancy repeated, though her words slurred. Her head sagged against his shoulder, her eyes fluttering shut.
"Yeah, I wouldn't argue anymore, Nan," Joe said quietly.
"Take her upstairs to the guest room, Frank," Gertrude said softly. "She doesn't need any more upsets at the moment."
Frank nodded and started up the stairs, Carson and Joe close behind. Gertrude watched them go, shaking her head before retreating into the kitchen, the damp cloth still clutched in her hand.
"Is she going to be okay?" Fenton asked as Frank silently passed by. Chief Collig stood beside him, both men looking tense.
"She'll be okay," Carson replied, though there was little conviction in his voice. "At least...I think so. Trudy said she was calling the doctor." He paused, then added with a tight nod, "If you'll excuse me—I need to be with my daughter."
Fenton and Collig watched Carson hurry after the others, vanishing at the top of the stairs. Fenton turned and stopped Joe at the base.
"What happened down here?" he demanded. "It looked like you two were ganging up on Nancy when I walked in."
"We weren't 'ganging up' on her, Dad," Joe said defensively. "Like I told you, I only just got here. You'll have to ask Frank what he said to her. I just wanted to make sure she was okay. She was definitely upset about something but wouldn't say what. Got a little defensive. Then that man showed up...and she just passed out."
"Sounds like the last few days have taken their toll," Collig said with a shrug. "Maybe that man was just the final straw."
"And you were the one who brought him here, Ezra!" Fenton snapped. "Why would you do that?"
"It wasn't my idea, Fenton!" the chief said, hands raised. "Besides, how could we have known this would happen?"
"He's right, Dad," Joe said. "I think I know who the guy is. Nancy mentioned someone last night—said he was the one who told von Brahn's story. I'm guessing that's Henry."
"Yes," Collig nodded, a bit surprised. "He said his name was Henry Brown. We found him in the car with von Brahn's men."
"But why bring him here at 7:30 in the morning?" Fenton asked, his tone softening slightly. "It's early enough as it is."
"I know," Collig sighed. "But the FBI agents insisted. They were afraid Mr. Brown might be hurt—or worse—if he stayed in the cell with the others."
"Why not just hold him in a different room to protect him?" Fenton asked. "We could have come in later."
"Again, Agent Walker insisted," Collig repeated. "He wanted to confirm Nancy's connection to the man—make sure he's who he says he is. I wouldn't have come this early if it were up to me. You know that."
"I know," Fenton said, exhaling slowly. He pressed his lips into a thin line. "All right. Let's hear this Henry's story. Maybe we'll finally start patching up the gigantic holes Tannen left behind."
Joe was about to follow his father and Collig into the parlor when Gertrude walked out of the kitchen, carrying a large bowl.
"Here, let me take that," he said, rushing over to her.
"Thank you, Joe," his aunt smiled, "but I've got it. Will you send Dr. Gates up when he gets here, though?"
"Sure, Aunt Trudy."
They both paused at the sound of Carson Drew's voice carrying down from upstairs.
"Good thing it's not me this time," Joe muttered.
Gertrude shook her head, beginning the stairs slowly.
"She's about as stubborn as you and Frank," she said.
By the time Frank reached the guest room with Nancy in his arms, she had stirred, somewhat awake and more alert. He gently laid her on the bed as Carson stepped forward to cover her with a blanket.
"Stop it, Dad!" she protested, pushing the covers away. "I don't need to rest!"
"Yes, you do," Carson said firmly, his eyes flashing with unspoken worry.
"I...I need to go!"
"Go where?"
"Anywhere but here! I don't need help!"
"Nancy Eloise Drew!" he snapped, his voice reverberating through the room.
Nancy froze, halfway off the bed, her blue eyes wide. Frank blinked in surprise, unused to hearing such force from Carson. Still, he held back.
Carson crossed his arms, his expression steely. "You get your behind back in that bed right now, young lady. When the doctor arrives, you will cooperate and not give him a hard time. You are not well, and you do need help."
Nancy's eyes narrowed. "I'm not weak, Dad."
"I never said you were," Carson replied, his voice softening. He sat down on the edge of the bed beside her, lowering his voice until Frank could no longer hear. Taking the cue, Frank quietly stepped out into the hallway.
At the top of the stairs, Gertrude appeared, a bowl of fresh water in her hands and a clean towel over her shoulder.
"What's going on?" she asked in a hushed tone.
Frank stepped over and took the bowl from her. "Nancy didn't want to rest. Carson had to lay down the law."
Gertrude sighed. "Stubborn, like her father. And someone else I know."
She gave him a knowing smile. Frank felt heat rise to his cheeks but didn't respond—just offered a sheepish grin as he took the bowl from her.
He carried it quietly to the guest room doorway and peeked inside. Carson was still sitting at the edge of the bed, now gently holding Nancy in his arms.
"Where should I put this?" he asked softly.
"By the bed, dear," Gertrude instructed, motioning toward the nightstand.
He walked over to the table, placing the bowl on top. When he looked up, Nancy was watching him, her blue eyes glassy and uncertain. She looked like she wanted to speak but couldn't find the words—caught in that space between pride and pain. Frank gave her a small, gentle smile, one he hoped would say enough. Then he turned away, though every step toward the door felt heavier than the last.
Carson glanced at Gertrude, managing a faint, tired smile. "Is the doctor here yet?"
"Not yet," Gertrude replied gently. "But any minute now. He lives just down the street. Joe will send him up as soon as he arrives."
Frank slipped out quietly, letting the soft murmur of their voices fade behind him.
The moment Frank stepped into the hallway, he leaned his head against the wall. Leaving Nancy like that gnawed at him—he knew it would haunt him later. But staying, pushing when she was already raw, might've made things worse.
"Well, I'll be," came a familiar voice. Frank looked up to see a man standing nearby, a leather doctor's bag in hand. "Long time, no see, Frank."
"Dr. Gates," Frank said, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm glad you're here. She's right in there."
He nodded toward the guest room, the door left slightly ajar. Dr. Gates moved to enter but paused at the threshold.
"You need anything, Frank?" he asked, glancing back.
Frank cleared his throat. "No. I'm fine. Just... glad you're here."
"So you said," the doctor replied, his voice warm but cautious. "You know where to find me if that changes."
"Yes, sir."
"It's good to have you back," he added softly. "Your family really missed you."
Frank's voice dropped to almost a whisper. "I know... They're not the only ones."
Nancy's gaze shifted toward the door as she heard the door click. She hoped Frank had returned but a man with a doctor bag stood in his place.
"Oh, Dr. Gates!" cried Gertrude the moment she saw him. She rushed over to the man, hugging him tightly. "Thank you so much for coming on such short notice!"
"Trudy," the man nodded, his eyes on Nancy. "You know I always come when the Hardys need me. Who's my patient today?"
"This is Nancy," she explained, then introduced Carson. Gertrude went on to explain what happened while Nancy watched the door in anticipation, hoping for Frank to return. Her shoulders slumped, tears welling in her eyes. She needed to talk to him.
"Nancy?"
The young woman looked up to see Dr. Gates staring down at her with a kind smile. "What?" she murmured.
"I said 'how are you feeling?'"
"I...I'm fine," Nancy stammered. Her heart pounded and she tried to get out of bed again only to be stopped once more. Her eyes pleaded with her father, memories of the past few months rushing back. A man's face hovered in her mind and confusion took over. "Let me go please! I...I need to talk to...to Owen!"
Carson's expression tightened at the mention of Owen's name, and for a moment, he said nothing. He was concerned about what was going on with his daughter, unsure as to why she would suddenly need to talk to the man who had tried to destroy their family.
"Nancy," Carson's voice was gentle but firm, "uh, why do you need to talk to Owen? He's not here."
Her eyes flickered, as though the name had caught her by surprise. She blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of what had just come out. "I...sorry," she corrected, her voice quiet and almost apologetic. "I don't know what I was thinking."
"It's all right, dear. You're exhausted," Gertrude said, gently pushing her back down. "Let Dr. Gates check you out and after you rest, we'll figure out what you need."
Nancy's lips pressed together, and she nodded, unsure whether her confusion was a sign of weariness or something deeper. She couldn't be sure herself but she also felt she didn't need rest. She needed...Frank.
Suddenly, Nancy bolted up, surprising both her father and Gertrude. The two tried to hold her down while Dr. Gates searched his bag for something.
"No!" Nancy cried. "I need to talk to him! Please!"
"Nancy, honey," her father urged her, gently struggling with her. "Please lay down. You need to rest."
"No! I...ow!"
Dr. Gates pulled back, a syringe in his hand and a sympathetic look on his face. Carson held on to his daughter as her eyes fluttered shut, her lips moving as she softly said something. He gently laid her back to the pillow, whispering an apology in her ear.
"I'm sorry," the doctor replied, putting the syringe into his bag. He pulled out a stesthoscope and began checking Nancy. "I had to do that or she was going to hurt herself."
"I know," Carson said sadly, watching his daughter sleep peacefully. "I just wished it didn't have to come to that. How long will she be out?"
"I gave her a very strong sedative," he announced. "It'll help her rest. Still, I'd feel better if someone stayed with her, just in case."
"Thank you," Carson murmured, bowing his head. He said a silent prayer as Gertrude thanked Dr. Gates. It pained him to see Nancy like this, but he understood the sedative had been necessary. Her panic, the confusion—none of it was her fault. He felt a gentle touch and looked over to see Gertrude giving him a sad smile.
"She'll be fine, Carson," she said softly. "I think she just needs a little time... a chance to reset."
"Thank you, Gertrude," Carson replied with a faint smile. He glanced around, noticing they were alone. "Where did Dr. Gates go?"
"We talked for a little bit," Gertrude said. "When he left, he asked us to call him when she wakes up—no matter the hour. Are you going to be all right?"
"Yes," he nodded, his gaze drifting back to Nancy. Her reddish blonde hair framed her delicate face as she slept peacefully, her breathing slow and steady. "It's just... sometimes I don't recognize her. She changed while she was with Owen, even though she was still around us. I just hope that—"
He paused. Something clicked in his mind. His eyes sharpened with sudden clarity, and he turned to Gertrude. "Would you stay with her for a bit?"
"Of course," she replied, though concern flickered across her face. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yes, yes," he nodded quickly, an almost eager energy in his voice. "There's something I need to do."
"All right."
Without another word, Carson left the room, quietly closing the door behind him. The hallway was empty, though conversation drifted faintly from downstairs. He moved with purpose. There was someone he needed to find.
"Is Nancy all right?" the man asked as Fenton and Chief Collig entered the parlor. "It wasn't my intention to upset her."
"I understand," Fenton replied, catching the faint trace of an accent he couldn't quite place. "I don't know her condition yet, but our family doctor is with her now. You're Henry, correct?"
"I am," the man nodded, a flicker of hope lighting his expression. "You believe me, then?"
"Nancy's reaction confirms who you are," Collig said. "But what we need to understand—what everyone wants to know—is why you shared your story with her. Didn't you think it might eventually put her in danger?"
"Not at all," Henry admitted, his voice soft, almost bewildered. "I didn't know my uncle still had someone looking for me in Chicago. Not until after Nancy and I parted ways. I managed to disappear for a while... but it wasn't long before he found me again."
"How could you not know Nancy's life would be at risk?" Joe's voice rang from the doorway. He had just entered, the tail end of Henry's answer setting him off. He stormed forward, fists clenched, until Fenton stepped between them.
"She could've died because of you!" Joe shouted over his father's shoulder.
"I know—and I regret ever telling her!" Henry cried, his voice cracking. "I never meant for anyone to get hurt. Nancy was the first person in years who showed me any kindness. She listened. We talked for hours. She told me her story, and I told her mine. I didn't even know she was a reporter."
"Then tell us your story," Fenton said, keeping his tone calm but firm. "Tell it all, and tell it true. Because if you lie, I won't be the one stopping Joe next time. And you should be thankful Frank isn't in this room."
Henry swallowed and nodded slowly. "I understand, sir. I'll tell you everything."
Carson came down the stairs with a purpose. Every room he checked upstairs was empty, and as he paused in the foyer, a man's voice drifted from the parlor. The pocket doors were closed—maybe the person he was looking for was inside. He was just about to enter when movement on the front porch caught his eye. Through the glass storm door, he saw Frank sitting on a chair, staring at the street beyond.
"Mind if I join you?" Carson asked as he stepped outside. Frank's head turned quickly, surprise flashing across his face.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."
"Oh, no, you didn't," Frank replied after a beat. "I... I was just thinking."
"I'll bet," the lawyer chuckled. He lowered himself into the empty chair beside Frank—and immediately regretted it. His slacks were damp. "I guess I should've looked before I sat down."
Frank laughed. "I didn't even notice when I sat. Too much on my mind."
"Right. Me too."
The two men sat in silence, watching the neighborhood slowly come alive. An elderly man stepped onto his porch, robe drawn tight, coffee in hand. He waved at Frank. A paperboy zipped past on his bike, tossing newspapers as he went. A family in Sunday clothes loaded into a car and drove off.
"It's been so long since I saw home," Frank said thoughtfully, breaking the silence. "And everything still feels the same. Well, almost everything. Their lives went on—no one flipped upside down."
"Yes," Carson nodded, his tone even. "Seems trouble always finds us, doesn't it?"
"Mmm." Frank stared at his hands. "I saw Dr. Gates leaving. He said he gave Nancy a sedative. Is that true?"
"Unfortunately, yes," Carson said with a sigh. "She's going to be out for a while."
"Is that why you came out here? To tell me?"
"No. I have something else on my mind."
"Oh." Frank hesitated. "I'm sorry about what happened... and that I didn't call. Everything went haywire when—"
"I told you, Frank," Carson cut in gently, "I'm not mad about that. After hearing what happened, I understand why you didn't call. That's not what this is about either."
"Okay..."
"I'm sorry, Frank."
"For what?"
"For keeping something from you."
"I don't understand."
Carson sighed. This was harder than he'd expected. "I'm glad you finally came home."
"Me too. I should've done it sooner. What are you trying to say, Mr. Drew?"
"I know you, Frank. And I saw how you were with Nancy just now."
Frank looked away, but Carson caught the hint of red on his cheeks.
"I... I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh yes, you do," the lawyer said with a light laugh.
Frank turned, surprised.
"I saw the change in Nancy after she found out you were back in River Heights. It was like a switch flipped. She realized she was making a huge mistake with Owen."
"That wasn't me, sir," Frank replied sheepishly. "She slapped me the moment she saw me."
"And you think that was entirely about you? Geez, Frank, I thought you were smart."
"I don't need to take this from you," he growled, rising to leave.
Carson caught his arm and pulled him back down. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way."
"Then what did you mean?" Frank asked, narrowing his eyes.
"I meant you need to open your eyes and see what's right in front of you."
"And that's what you came to tell me?"
"Not exactly," Carson said, shaking his head. He took a breath, his voice quieter now. "You need to know something. Something not even your father or Joe knows. No one does."
"And why tell me now?"
"Because you deserve to know. When you didn't come back… Nancy had second thoughts about marrying Ned."
"Why?"
"I used to wonder that too, Frank. But now, I think I'm looking at the reason."
Author's Note:
Well, I thought I would put out another chapter in between reading for my class. Sadly, it's not a very exciting one and not a subject I'm too keen on, but it's a required course (yay, me). I still have an A though, so there's something good going for it. Anyway, I hope that you enjoyed the chapter. I know it was a long one with a lot of information but it was definitely needed. Thank you to everyone who read the previous chapter and another thank you to those who left reviews. I appreciate the support and patience in waiting for the chapters to come out. Since I don't know when the next chapter will be published, I want to send everyone Easter blessings. Happy Spring! He is Risen.