Chapter Twenty-Eight
"Well," Joe replied, breaking the uneasy silence after Martinelli's words, "I did not expect that."
"Neither did I," muttered Fenton in agreement.
A chill came in with the wind, blowing up debris around them. A distant rumble of thunder caused everyone to look up at the night sky, the dark clouds roiling, heralding a storm rushing in. Nancy shivered slightly next to Frank, rubbing her bare arms. She nervously looked around as if someone else was going to jump out at them again. Frank noticed and took off his jacket, wrapping it around her shoulders.
"Thank you," she replied with a small smile.
"Let's get inside," Frank stated, pulling her close. He looked at the clouds again, feeling a drop of rain land on his face.
"Yes," Collig nodded as more raindrops followed. "Let's take this inside before we all get wet."
Martinelli sighed, adjusting his coat. "This night just keeps getting better."
A yell echoed from the open door leading to the jail cells. Nancy's body tensed, her eyes wide.
"What?" Frank asked, concerned.
"I'm not going back that way," she stammered, shivering again.
Before anyone could respond, the sky unleashed a torrential downpour, rain hammering down in heavy sheets. Within seconds, they were drenched, water pooling in the alley and splattering against the pavement. Thunder rumbled overhead, the storm now in full force.
"Alright, inside! Now!" Collig barked over the noise, gesturing toward the station.
Nancy hesitated, glancing at the entrance near the jail cells. Another distant shout sent a visible shudder through her.
Collig caught the look and nodded in understanding. He ordered an officer to check the commotion before jerking a thumb toward another door. "Good thing we have another way in through the locker room. This way."
Frank didn't hesitate, guiding Nancy forward as they hurried through the rain. Joe shielded Vanessa as best he could while following the others. Collig fumbled briefly with the lock before pushing the door open. The group stumbled inside, the door clanging shut behind them, muffling the storm slightly. The hum of fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, the air thick with the scent of old paper, stale coffee, and damp clothing.
Nancy exhaled slowly, rubbing her arms as she shook off the lingering chill. She wiped the water from her face and ran her hands through her damp hair. Handing Frank his jacket back, she managed a small smile.
"See? Much better," he said lightly.
She shot him a grateful look. "I just—I didn't want to hear them," she admitted quietly.
"You won't have to," he assured her.
"Man, I hate rain!" Joe groaned, wringing out his shirt. "Now I have to change!"
"Quit your complaining, Joe," Fenton growled, shaking water from his jacket. "We're all just as wet as you are."
Collig ran a hand through his damp hair and sighed. "I'll make sure someone brews a fresh pot of coffee." He glanced around at the exhausted group before leading them into the hallway. "Let's get you all settled and figure out what's next."
"There you are!" cried Gertrude as they walked into the bullpen minutes later. "I've been worried sick!" She blinked, eyeing them as if they'd grown another head. "And why are you all wet? I sincerely hope you weren't outside when that storm hit! Don't you think it would have been prudent to get these young ladies inside before that happened?"
"We're fine, Trudy," Fenton reassured her.
Gertrude's eyes suddenly went wide with alarm as she noticed Martinelli stepping in behind him.
"What's he doing here?" she shrieked, her face turning red with anger.
"It's fine, Trudy," Fenton repeated, stepping between her and Martinelli. He quickly explained what had happened outside as Nancy and Vanessa sank onto a nearby bench, clearly exhausted.
"He's—"
"I don't believe it," Gertrude cut in skeptically, folding her arms. Her sharp eyes bored into Martinelli. "You can't tell me that after all these years, you suddenly had a change of heart."
"Trudy..." Fenton warned.
"No, Fenton," she snapped, turning on her brother. "You remember what he is! There's no turning back from that world—from the choices he made!"
"I know, Trudy," he said calmly, taking her hand. "I know. I wonder myself. But he saved the boys."
Fenton turned to Martinelli, his expression somber. "Why didn't you say anything before?"
Martinelli sighed, meeting his gaze. "Would you have believed me if I had, Fen?"
Fenton hesitated, and Martinelli chuckled lightly, shaking his head. Gertrude scoffed, rolling her eyes.
Martinelli turned to her, his expression uncharacteristically soft. "I know what I did to you was awful, Trudy, but please—just let me explain."
She stiffened but said nothing.
Martinelli took a breath. "I wanted power. That's all I ever dreamed about, watching my old man struggle in the ranks. He tried to keep me out of the Family, but I thought I could do better. I wanted to prove myself." He exhaled, shaking his head. "Then Connie changed everything."
"How?" Fenton asked, intrigued.
Martinelli exhaled. "Connie's father wanted a strong successor—someone to marry her and take over. She hated his choices… except me. But she knew I'd never love her the way I loved Trudy." He glanced at Gertrude, his voice softening. "My old man was in the way too. He warned Jacoby to keep me out, so Jacoby had him killed. I didn't even know until Connie told me on her deathbed." His mouth twisted. "That's when she finally admitted Tony wasn't my son."
Fenton tensed. "What?"
"I believed he was mine for years," Martinelli continued, his voice raw. "She let me think that—to control me, to keep me loyal. And I was. I raised that boy. I loved him. And when he died…" He swallowed hard. "She blamed me. Hated me for it. But I would've died for that kid." He hesitated, his eyes locking onto Gertrude. "I know I hurt you, Trudy. But if I had stayed, we both would've ended up dead. Jacoby wasn't going to let me have anything he didn't give."
A heavy silence stretched between them. Around them, officers moved, phones rang, and Collig stepped aside to speak with another officer. On the other side of the bullpen, Frank and Joe were deep in conversation with the FBI agents, while Nancy and Vanessa listened intently.
Martinelli broke the silence. "I made sure you and Fenton were protected after I left," he said quietly. "I never stopped loving you, Trudy. Not for a second. And when Connie died, so did the Family—they just didn't know it yet. I kept up appearances, but I was feeding the Feds information, helping take down the people who killed my father."
"So, you've been playing both sides?" Fenton asked.
"In a way," Martinelli admitted. "Kept my businesses going—some clean, some not—but made sure the right people went down. Now, Angelo's going to figure out how the FBI knew we were here."
Agent Walker motioned to Nancy, and she reluctantly stood, heading toward the agents. Vanessa hesitated, then followed.
"Why call the FBI?" Fenton asked, keeping an eye on his sons.
Martinelli chuckled. "Because I wanted justice for Laura. And I knew that German guy wouldn't be far."
His gaze shifted toward Frank, Joe, Vanessa, and Nancy. His eyes lingered on Nancy, who looked exhausted but held her head high as she spoke.
"Do you think she knows more?"
Fenton shook his head. "I don't think so. And if she does, it'll come out eventually. Right now, I'm just glad to have Frank home." He exhaled. "And that he's willing to forgive me. I've regretted it every moment since it happened."
Chief Collig approached them, his face drawn with fatigue.
Fenton's stomach tightened. "What happened? Everything okay?"
Collig sighed. "Now it is," he huffed, rubbing the bridge of his nose before looking up. "After we arrested Marco and Samson, I wanted them separated since they tried to kill each other. Good thing I did, since Tannen's dead. Samson's our only lead to finding the rest of the jewels. Though I suspect von Brahn might know something, too."
"I forgot all about them," Fenton admitted. "With everything going on, they didn't even cross my mind. Where are they?"
"Marco was hiding in another cell," Collig said with a chuckle. "Guess he was afraid his boss might chew him out. That's what all the commotion was about—Biancci finally noticed him. As for Samson, he's in an interrogation room. One of my men checked on him—he's fine. And I think he's ready to talk. Claims he had nothing to do with Nancy's kidnapping, says that wasn't part of his job. But he admitted to being rough with her when she first arrived."
"That scoundrel!" Gertrude gasped, clutching her pearls. "How dare he!"
"Not in that way, Trudy," Collig clarified, shaking his head.
Gertrude let out a breath of relief as he continued. "Apparently, he's got a talent for chemistry. He mixed some chemicals from a custodial closet at the airport to make homemade chloroform. Used it on Nancy, then stuffed her into a large duffel bag." He shook his head. "As small as she is, I'm surprised she fit."
Collig sighed. "I think you should take everyone home, Fenton. It's been a long day and I can see that it's started to wear on them."
"What of the FBI? They're already talking to them."
"The FBI can wait," Gertrude scoffed, glancing at the others. "I want to go home too. Nancy, the poor dear, looks exhausted. She shouldn't have to answer any questions right now."
"I'll take care of it," Collig stated, turning away.
A loud crack of thunder rippled outside, and the lights flickered momentarily.
The front door opened, drawing Fenton's attention. A man's silhouette appeared in the doorway, stepping inside, his umbrella dripping with rain. He shook it off, water splashing onto the floor, before closing it with a snap.
"Dad?" Nancy croaked the moment she saw him.
"Nancy!" Carson Drew cried, rushing over to her. He quickly pulled her into an embrace. "I was so worried!"
"I knew I forgot to do something," Frank muttered, looking embarrassed.
Carson turned to him, his face bright. "I don't care," he replied. "You had your reasons not to call. When I couldn't reach anyone, I got on the first plane to New York." He turned to Fenton, extending a hand. "It's good to see you and Joe are okay. I'm glad everyone made it through."
Fenton shook his hand. "Glad to be home. Didn't expect to see you so soon, though—not after what Frank and Nancy told us."
"Yes, that," Carson said, shaking his head. "McGinnis let me go once he realized I couldn't reach anyone. The Hartleys have no chance of getting out. Even their lawyer dropped them once he learned the extent of their crimes. But McGinnis wants us back by Monday for the arraignment. The judge needs to hear our statements. What happened here?"
"It's a long story, Carson," Fenton replied. "Let's get home first—we can explain everything there."
"We're not done," Agent Anderson growled, scowling. "You leave when we say you can leave."
Carson narrowed his eyes. "And who's this?"
The agent flipped out his badge. "Agent Anderson. This is my partner. I suggest you back off so we can finish here."
"And I suggest they go home," Collig cut in, his face red with anger. "If you want statements, you can get them in the morning."
"Chief Collig, with all due respect—" Anderson started, but Walker lifted a hand to stop him.
"He's right," Walker said. "We won't get much out of them if they're too exhausted."
Carson frowned. "Statements? What exactly is going on?"
"We'll talk when we get back to the house," Fenton said, guiding them toward the front door.
Carson wrapped an arm around Nancy and followed. As she walked away, she glanced back, meeting Frank's eyes. A small, grateful smile crossed her face. Joe snickered when he noticed his brother's slight blush.
"What?" Frank asked as they moved toward the door. "It was just a look."
"Yeah, one that made you blush," Joe smirked knowingly. "Even after all these years, you still have feelings for her."
"Oh, I do not," Frank scoffed.
The storm raged on as they stepped outside. Fenton took Carson's umbrella and rushed to the car while the others waited under the awning.
"You do too," Joe hissed, trying to keep his voice down. "You can't tell me she's not the reason you didn't marry Callie."
"Nancy had nothing to do with that," Frank muttered, casting a quick glance at her. She was a few feet away, talking to her father—thankfully not paying attention to them. "You know that."
"Keep telling yourself that."
Seconds later, Fenton pulled up to the curb.
"And how are we all supposed to fit in there?" Joe asked, eyeing the car with concern.
"The same way we got here," his father shouted over the wind and rain. "Now get in before we all get soaked!"
A half hour later, the storm still raged outside, rain drumming against the windows as occasional flashes of lightning illuminated the darkened sky. Nancy let out a slow breath, sinking deeper into the warm bath. The calming scent of lavender soap mixed with the lingering tension in her muscles, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't fully relax.
She leaned her head back, eyes drifting shut. The events of the past few days felt like a blur. Even now, safe in the Hardy home, she couldn't shake the oppressive feeling that someone was out there, waiting. Her arm throbbed beneath the water, a dull reminder of how close she'd come to losing her life.
With a sigh, Nancy pulled the drain plug and stood, wrapping a towel around herself as she stepped onto the bath rug. She moved toward the mirror, rubbing her face, trying to shake off the exhaustion pressing down on her. Moving to the mirror, she sighed at her reflection—hollow eyes, weariness etched into her face. She rubbed her temples, her head pounding. She knew she needed sleep, but her mind refused to quiet.
A touch on her arm.
Nancy's eyes flew open.
Owen stood behind her. His dark, menacing gaze locked onto hers.
She gasped, jerking away, but before she could scream—
"Nancy, dear?"
The voice was soft, concerned.
Nancy blinked rapidly, her breath slowing as she realized where she was. The bathroom. Safe. Gertrude stood beside the tub, a hand on her arm.
"Are you okay?" the older woman asked.
Nancy swallowed hard, her pulse still racing. "Y-yeah," she stammered, sitting up. She darted a glance around the bathroom, her breath coming in shaky bursts. Of course, Owen wasn't there. He never had been.
Gertrude offered a gentle smile, giving her arm a reassuring pat. "I have a guest room ready for you. Take your time getting dressed while I make you some tea."
Nancy managed a nod. "Thank you," she whispered.
She watched Gertrude leave before rising from the tub and reaching for a towel. Padding to the mirror, she hesitated, then turned quickly to check the room behind her.
Empty.
She let out a slow breath, but her heart still pounded. If that brief nap was any indication, tonight would be a long one.
"I wonder what will happen to von Brahn," Joe replied in the dark. He laid in the bed, his hands propped behind his head as he stared at the ceiling.
"As long as he stays away from us," Frank answered from the floor nearby. He was on his stomach, his arms strangling the pillow. "I don't really care. I didn't like the fact that he wanted Nancy dead."
"And you said you didn't care about her," his brother snickered.
"No, I said I didn't care about her in the way you thought," he mumbled. "I still care about her. There's a difference."
"No, you just don't want to admit that you have real feelings for her."
"Let it go, Joe. I want to go to sleep."
Joe suddenly got up, leaning on his elbow as he looked down at his brother. "Just admit it, Frank," he stated. "She's not going to wait for you."
Frank grumbled, rolling over to face him. "And how do you know that? She's a widow, for crying out loud! And she just got out of a really bad situation. Why would I want to insert myself into her life?"
"'Insert?'" Joe grinned. Lightning flashed outside, revealing the smirk. "You sure about that?"
"That's not what I meant," he said though he felt his face grow warm. "I meant..."
"I know what you meant, big brother," the younger Hardy continued, smirking. "I'm just kidding, something I haven't done in years."
"I know, poor choice of words."
Frank sighed, shifting again to get comfortable as Joe did the same. Rain continued to pound on the window, the thunder shaking the house as the brothers settled.
"Frank?"
"Now what, Joe."
"I'm glad you're back."
Frank chuckled. "I missed you too, Joe."
Author's Note:
I hope that everyone is having a good day so far. I know it has been a few months since I posted but I have been busy with my class. This is the last week for it with a week break next week before I dive into another class. I'm also working as a substitute at my daughters' school which has quickly turned into a semi-long-term assignment. It gets me exposure though for a possible job in the future. Anyway, we are almost done here. Only a few more revelations to go. I know, it seems as if this story doesn't want to end but it will! With my break next week, I plan on getting at least one more chapter out (don't hold me to it though. You know how I am!).
There is something else I would like to ask of you. I have been thinking about this for quite some time and I would like your honest opinion of it. I would like to rewrite my original story Past Transgressions. It has been on my mind for a while and I feel, since it's eight years old now, it's time for it to be rewritten, fixing the issues that it has. I love the story and I would never change certain aspects of the storyline. I just feel that it needs to be cleaned up a little and make it slightly less vague in certain parts. What are your thoughts? Plus, should I keep the original up or delete it completely? Any thoughts that you have would be greatly appreciated.
Thank you to all who continue the support in both reading and responding! I love to hear your thoughts and suggestions! If you have a current story out or recently had one, I have not gotten to any of them yet but I do plan to in the future. Have a great weekend and God Bless!