Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

October 23^rd, 1978 (nine days until Halloween)

NANCY

                The streets of Salem bustled with tourists and Halloween cheer. The old colonial buildings and businesses were decorated with all manner of witch paraphernalia. Jack-o-Lanterns filled every window and stoop. The banks of the North River glittered a cheerful blue as Nancy Drew stepped out of the MBTA Commuter Rail station with two pieces of avocado green Samsonite luggage. She didn’t have long to lug the cases around before she spotted her contact, Judge Danforth’s hatchback sedan parked in the lot. The judge, a middle-aged man with gray hair dressed in a gray business suit, stepped out of his car with a kind smile.

                “Nancy Drew. You look just like your mother.” He took one of her bags and moved to open the hatch of his car. Nancy smiled as she helped him load her things.

                “Thank you for meeting me. My father arranged for me to stay at The Daniels House Inn while I work on the case.” Once her bags were in the back, Nancy climbed into the passenger side seat. The Judge nodded.

                “I’ll fill you in once you’ve gotten situated. I’m in the middle of several cases, so my associate at the courthouse will get you up to speed. Carson assured me of your discretion on the matter.” Nancy nodded as they turned out of the lot onto Washington Street. The City Hall was nestled between several restaurants and retail stores. The city emblem of a classic witch astride a broom made her chuckle.

                “Halloween must be very special in this town.” The Judge cringed. Nancy felt the tension off the older man.

                “It’s a unique experience to put it bluntly. I realize we owe much to the tourism industry, but personally I find the entire affair tiresome.” Outside the traffic was beginning to become gridlocked around the Salem Common. The park was full of picnickers and families enjoying the various pop-up booths and walking tours.

                “It all looks very exciting, but I can imagine being annoyed by all the congestion.” The Judge nodded and smiled.

                “I’m just an old coot. Don’t let my feelings get in the way of enjoying yourself. If you have a chance I recommend taking a tour of one of the historic sites. The Wax Museum is quite informative. Nancy smiled as the cars began to move again.

                “Oh! I’d love to. I’m sure this town’s history is fascinating.” The rest of the ride was in good spirits. The Judge pulled up to the curb in front of The Daniels House Inn. It was a three-story colonial with black slate siding. It wasn’t ostentatious, but had a certain beauty to its design. Nancy thanked the Judge as he helped her remove her bags.

                “You should call your father to check in. I’ll see you at the court house later. My lunch break is almost over. Need to go.” He hopped back into his car and rejoined traffic at a snail’s pace. Nancy felt slightly weary from travel, but the prospect of her assignment coiled some energy into her step. Her brown heeled boots crunched on the brick path to the front door. She rang the bell and waited patiently. The door swung open and an eccentrically dressed young woman stood in the frame. She was dressed in a full-length peasant dress and heeled mary janes. Her feathered hair was flaxen in color.

                “Are you Miss Drew?” She smiled curiously.

                “I am.” Nancy smiled. The woman ushered her inside the cramped entry way. My name is Kay Worthington. I’m the Inn Keeper. We have the Marion Room prepared for you on the third floor. We hope you don’t mind the climb, but we have no bell service. The place is too small for such services.” Nancy nodded excitedly. The house was rustic in furnishing and décor. Old portraits and knickknacks littered the small tables and walls. Kay had her sign the guest register before leading her up the narrow wood steps.

                “The third floor is the only one occupied by guests. My husband and I live in the back by the kitchen. The rest of the house is for public tours. We are standing in one of the oldest buildings in Salem.” Nancy was careful not to trip as she took in all the old-fashioned carved bannisters and whitewashed walls. The ceilings were very low compared to those in modern houses.

                “The ceiling is awfully low.” Kay chuckled as they stepped onto the third-floor landing.

                “These old houses were all built this way. People will tell you it’s because humans used to be shorter way back when. Actually, this was a deliberate choice by builders to trap heat. The wind at night will steal the warmth from your lungs. Be sure to wear a jacket in the evenings.” Kay unlocked a door and helped Nancy bring her luggage into the room. It was a beautiful and simple space. White walls and green trim with a queen size bed and fireplace. There was a walk-in closet and bathroom with a claw-foot tub. The bathroom was shared with the adjourning sweet. She would have to remember to knock and lock the other door if she was bathing.

                “If you’d like a fire made up in the evening, don’t hesitate to ask me at the desk. I’ll have Tim make one up for you. The bellows are decorative, so don’t try and build one up yourself. We’ll bring you a screen as well so no sparks drift off. Breakfast is at 7:30 in the morning.” Kay handed Nancy a key with a pretty anchor shaped silver charm on it.

                “Is Tim your husband?” Nancy asked as she set her bags on the bed. Kay nodded.

                “Married last year. High school sweethearts and all that. Will that be all Miss Drew?” Nancy nodded.

                “That’s fine. Thank you, Kay.” She nodded and shut the door behind her. Nancy felt that Kay was probably in a hurry to get back to work. No doubt the combination of tours and her duties as innkeeper were a lot to handle. Nancy opened her cases and began unpacking her clothes. The walk-in closet was stocked with wire hangers and smelled of moth balls. There was an antique dressing table by the window. She looked forward to staying in the room later on, but was itching to get out and explore the town. Under her clothes were the case files her father had given her before she left for Boston.

                Carson Drew had received a call from an old colleague and friend, Judge Mason Danforth. Judge Danforth and Carson had attended law school together years before. The files disclosed a robbery at the court house the week prior. The evidence storage room had been broken into from an alley facing window. Papers were thrown about, leaving it unclear what was missing. Decades worth of files were stored in the room. Courthouse employees were in the process of sorting all the papers. The Judge was suspicious that the break in was related to a recent protest involving the Accused Witches Group. Nancy placed the case files in a leather shoulder bag she’d brought with her and grabbed her grey wool coat. She’d need directions to the court house, but suspected it wouldn’t take long to get oriented. As she walked out the door she ran face first into a man’s back.

                “Oh! Pardon me!” Nancy looked up at the man’s face as he turned and felt a warmth bloom though her chest.

                “Nancy Drew. Why am I not surprised?” Frank Hardy’s crystal blue eyes twinkled with mirth as he smiled.  Nancy felt a flush in her cheeks as her brain went blank.

                “Frank. It’s been a while.” It had been almost six months since their paths had last crossed in Los Angeles. She and Frank had exchanged a few letters, but for the most part had been somewhat quiet. Their last day in California had been without promises. Illinois and New Jersey were too great a distance apart to entertain the idea of a relationship. Never the less, the chemistry reignited in an instant.

                “Oh no…” In the doorway of the room next to hers was the younger Hardy brother, Joe. Nancy managed to recover herself and smiled brightly at his tousled hair.

                “Joe. You look like you were caught up in a tornado.” Joe sighed and attempted to flatten his hair.

                “Got caught up in a crowd of tourists and nearly lost my arm holding the bags. Frank was no help of course.” Frank chuckled before patting his brother’s shoulder.

                “I was navigating with the maps. Besides, it builds upper body strength.” Joe glared at his brother and Nancy laughed, realizing how much she missed their bickering.

                “You just arrived?” They nodded.

                “You too?” Nancy also nodded.

                “With the number of times we bump into each other, I feel like we should buy lottery tickets. What are the odds?” Joe smiled. Nancy saw into the room the boys were staying in. It had a more east indies flavor to the décor. There were full beds side by side and a small day bed along the wall. It was smaller than Nancy’s room and lacked a fireplace. The connecting door to her bathroom was shut. She blushed, suddenly realizing that their rooms were connected.

                “I see we’ll be in close quarters…” Frank and Joe stared where she was looking, before realizing her meaning. Joe laughed out loud while Frank went quiet.

                “Don’t worry Nance. Our mother raised us to be civil. We’ll keep the seat down and knock. I swear.” Nancy laughed as well. Frank had begun to blush.

                “What brings you to Salem?” He stuttered as they made their way out into the cramped hall.

                “I’m working on a case for a friend of my father. Are you here on a case?” Frank nodded, recovering once the conversation slipped to business.

                “We’re on assignment for Interpol. It’s a long story, but if you like we could tell you about it over dinner.” Nancy felt all too eager to accept. She’d had a light lunch on the train and knew she’d be starving soon.

                “Sure. Meet me here tonight at 7:00. I should be free by then. I really need to run.” Frank nodded and gave Nancy a side hug. He couldn’t help but whisper into her ear.

                “It’s really good to see you.” Nancy smiled warmly.

                “You too.” She looked awkwardly to Joe, still in the doorway.

                “Both of you.” She hurried down the stairs, red hair bouncing behind her. Joe rolled his eyes as his brother continued to moon over the girl.

                “You two are ridiculous, you know that?” Frank didn’t answer and stood in the hall as Joe went back into the room to find a hairbrush.

*~*~*~*~*~*

A/N: Welcome friends to my summer writing project. Something totally new for me. I’ve never written Nancy Drew or period settings. I’m wading in a pool of 70s fashion and stupid nostalgia. Let’s have some fun! Special thanks to thejoeisthejoe.tumblr.com for encouraging me and being my resident Shaun Cassidy/1970s expert! Additional thanks to getacluedrew.tumblr.com for creating the gifset which started this project!

Check it out at the link below.

70s MID GIFSET

~probablyajedi

Chapter Text

FRANK AND JOE

“Do you believe in fate?” Frank asked as Joe wrestled his hair into its normal fashion. As the younger brother, it was supposed to be his job to ask for advice about girls and wax poetic about destiny. He sighed dramatically and tossed his brush back into his open case on the bed. They’d have time to unpack later.

                “At this point I’d believe in some form of higher power. She threw you on the floor in Munich, saved you from a locked cell in Transylvania, and don’t get me started about Los Angeles. Someone really wants you two in the same place.” Frank walked out into the hall, holding his key. His mind was clearly not on task.

                “Do we need to go get your tarot read so we can get back on the case?” Joe locked the door behind them and followed Frank down the steps. They passed Kay at the front desk and made their way onto the street. Frank still had a glint of whimsy in his gaze as they dodged tourists on the sidewalk.

                “Oh, come on Joe. You have to admit, it’s spooky. We run into her in the most random of places.” Joe sighed dramatically as they made their way toward the city center.

                “She’s a part time investigator. We’re part time investigators. There aren’t that many of us out there. It’s a coincidence as best. We’re on a case Romeo.” Frank laughed as they moved down the sidewalk. The storefronts and lampposts were decorated with Halloween cheer. Witch cut out littered the windows and they’d almost tripped over several jack-o-lanterns already. Salem was truly alive during the Autumn. A cool breeze ruffled the trees, causing them to rain their colorful leaves onto the streets. Frank and Joe counted themselves lucky to be back on their end of the country.

                Several weeks ago, their father’s friend in Interpol had requested their help in Austria. Moosham Castle’s archive had been robbed and an old manuscript was stolen. It was called the Book of Apologies. It was penned by Judge Samuel Sewall in 1699 with the names of all the people accused of witchcraft during the Salem Witch Trials of 1692. Within, he professed his guilt for the part he took in the trials and begged for mercy on his immortal soul. The text was considered by many to be of great historical value, but not much monetary value. The Hardy’s had followed an admittedly thin trail of clues while Interpol covered the main investigation. Interpol didn’t expect much to come of the lead. It was glorified busy work however the pair were eager to expand their prospects in the field of detective work.

                “Which way?” Frank asked. Joe checked the address in his pocket notepad and pointed up the street. They were walked along the waterfront now. An old ship was docked on a pier, tourists taking photos. The sky was sunny, but the clouds were edging off the horizon. A small café sat nestled near the firehouse. Luminous Infusions Café had indoor and outdoor dining areas with the specials written on chalkboards. They entered through a curtain of plastic beads and were greeted by the smell of coffee grounds and baked goods. Joe lit up like a Christmas tree and ogled the pastries. A young woman with ebony skin and bouncy hair was bustling behind the counter. The shop was chattering with customers.

                “Hi. Are you Lauren Holt?” Frank asked. Joe stood at the counter but continued to eye the food. He hadn’t had breakfast yet and was dying to try the cherry tart. The woman eyed the two apprehensively.

                “I am. Can I get you anything?” Joe smiled wide.

                “Can I get a black coffee and one of those tarts?” She smiled and started to write the order down.

                “Sure. We just made those this morning. Need to brew a fresh pot of coffee though. It’ll only take a minute.” Frank humored his brother and ordered himself a cup of coffee.

                “We’re here on business and have a couple questions. Is now a good time?” Frank asked. Lauren rang them up before nodding.

                “Sure. Just give me a few minutes to get someone up front.” Frank and Joe sat at a small table by the window. The space was a little cramped but was warmly lit and inviting. The walls were covered in kitschy wallpaper and framed pictures. Frank took note of a photo of Lauren and an older white woman. They were standing in front of a very old looking house in the woods. Lauren brought their orders to the table and pulled up a chair. A man with long hair and a full beard had taken over her place at the register.

                “What can I do for you two?” She smoothed her hands on her knee length green plaid skirt. She had a pink floral top which was knotted in the front. She was wearing tube socks and practical sneakers. Frank was ready to get to business.

                “My brother and I are investigators. We’ve been tracking a theft of a book from Austria. We found this at the scene of the crime.” Frank took out a small sandwich bag with a matchbook in it. The flap advertised the café with its address. Lauren looked confused but didn’t touch the bag.

                “Is that all you have? I don’t know anything about a stolen book. If you’re trying to pull some funny business-” Joe shook his head, tart crumbs on his chin.

                “No. We aren’t making any accusations. We do have something else to tell you though. We found part of a ticket stub for an airline ticket. It’s a round trip ticket from Austria to Boston International Airport. The ticket information says that it was paid for in your name. Lauren was shocked to silence.

                “We checked into it with a friend of ours. We think someone is trying to frame you. At the very least they are trying to make you look involved. Can you confirm your whereabouts the last two weeks?” Lauren nodded.

                “I’ve been here in Salem the whole time. I have my timecards and customer receipts. I’ve also been meeting with my lawyer the past week. She can confirm my whereabouts.” Joe and Frank shared a smile.

                “We’ll need to see those to rule you out. One more thing; Have you ever heard of the Book of Apologies?” Lauren’s face showed no recognition.

                “I’ve never heard of it. Look, I don’t even have a passport. What’s this all about?” Frank took out a card and handed it to her. It was one of their Interpol contact’s business cards. They’d gotten several before leaving the country.

                “We’re investigating on behalf of Interpol. Please call the number if you have more questions. You can share that with you lawyer if you like. We’re staying at The Daniels House Inn.” She took the business card and pocketed it before standing.

                “I have to get back to work.” Lauren didn’t wait for their reply before moving back to the counter. Frank sighed.

                “She’s cagey.” Joe nodded while munching on the last of his tart.

                “We did just come in asking her about a crime. She has every right to be suspicious.” They finished their coffees and stood to leave. Frank left a tip along with a note on the napkin to call them when she wasn’t busy. As they made their way to the door Frank stopped suddenly. There was a corkboard beside the door he hadn’t seen walking in. It was covered with postcards from around the world. Local customers and tourists who sent well wishes and promises to come back soon. One caught his attention.

~Greetings from Vienna, Austria~

                “Joe. Look.” Joe took the card down from its tack. It was post marked the day after the theft at Moosham Castle.

~See you soon! JD~

                “Someone was in Austria during the time of the theft.” Joe inspected the card for any other clues. Frank smirked and pointed back to the board.

                “JD apparently is a regular. I spy five other postcards from them on the board. Boston, New York, Sacramento, and Tampa. This is the only one from outside of the country.” Frank was willing to bet money that this JD was a local that traveled a bit. Joe put the card back on the board before they left.

                “It could be something or nothing.” Joe warned as they hurried through the clogged sidewalk.

                “I’ve got a good feeling about this.” Frank smirked. Joe rolled his eyes. Frank wasn’t usually one to be walking in clouds, but their chance encounter with Nancy had thrown things out of whack. Normally it was him falling for a girl and putting stock in fate. It felt almost wrong for it to be in the reverse.

                “Well, we don’t have a lot to do until Lauren calls or Interpol leaves us a message. Want to take in the sites?” Joe pointed to the various museums and tourist attractions. Live music was playing in a nearby pub. Frank followed his younger brother around, enjoying the colonial architecture and picturesque parks. The docks were crowded with tourists taking photos together and booths were selling pumpkins to eager children.

                “I’ve so far seen five shops selling crystals and wind chimes.” Frank commented as they headed toward the square.

                “I know. Isn’t it wild?” Joe grinned. Frank signed and beckoned toward a small general store. Frank moved to the pay phones in the back and fished out some coins.

                “I’m calling dad.” Joe nodded and walked over to the newspaper stands. The line rang a couple of times before Fenton Hardy picked up the line. He was working from his home study today and had asked Frank to call to check in.

                “Hi dad. We’re in Salem right now.”

                “Excellent. How goes the case?” Frank caught his father up on their slim lead from Austria.

                “Lauren Holt owns a café in town. We found a matchbook from that café and a ticket stub at the scene of the crime. They lead us to Ms. Holt, but she doesn’t know anything about the theft. I honestly think we’re on a wild goose chase, but we can’t leave until Interpol gets back to us tomorrow morning with updates.” Fenton could hear the frustration in his eldest son’s voice.

                “I’m not telling you that you’ve followed a false lead son. I trust you and Joe’s instincts. If you followed this lead to Salem, it seems only right that you finish what you start. If you’re lead doesn’t pan out, then you move on.” Frank sighed as Joe walked up holding a small paperback on the cemeteries of Salem. He motioned to hand him the handset.

                “Hey dad!” Joe smiled wide. Frank shook his head and leaned close to the phone to hear their father.

                “Joe! How’s witch country?” Their father always treated the younger son with gentle endearment. Frank knew it was because Joe was the baby of the family and never felt jealousy about it. If he was honest, he treated Joe like a child more often than the young man he was. Old habits die hard.

                “It’s great here dad! So much music and culture! Guess who we ran into at the inn we’re staying at!” Frank sprang to grab the phone, but Joe ducked his brother. He laughed as their father inquired who they’d met.

                “Nancy Drew is in town! What are the odds!?” Fenton’s laugh made Frank want to hide his face in shame. The amount of ribbing he got from his father and brother about Nancy since Los Angeles was too much. Frank was able to grab the handset back from Joe and shove him out of the way.

                “Hey dad, we gotta go. I’ll call again tomorrow about the case.” Fenton said goodbye with a chuckle and hung up. Coins jangled out of the return slot. Frank swatted Joe upside the head, but only lightly. Joe grinned wide as he hurried to the cashier to buy his paperback. Frank collected his coins and shook his head. How on earth was he going to face Nancy that evening?

A/N: This fic is set after the crossover “Mystery of the Hollywood Phantom” and before the change in actress in the middle of season two. Pamela is my forever Nancy Drew, so if I ever write more of these stories, it’s always PSM. Nothing against Janet, but I have a favorite. Sorry for the delay in updates. My college classes and work have been chaos. It’s spoopy season so I’m getting into the spirit!

~probablyajedi

Chapter Text

NANCY

                The courthouse was much like the one Nancy was familiar with in River Heights. All government buildings were built with a main hall and directory of office spaces. Judge Danforth was currently in court, but she was directed by the secretary to meet with his associate. The door she entered read; Alicia Cole Esq. Ms. Cole cut a striking figure behind her desk in a smart business suit and white silk blouse. Her dark skin and expertly styled hair were intimidating, but her smile set Nancy at ease.

                “You must be Ms. Drew. Judge Danforth said you would be investigating.” Nancy shook her offered hand and smile.

                “Yes. Call me Nancy. I’m eager to get started.” Alicia nodded and motioned for her to follow.

                “Call me Alicia. I have the spare key to the records room. We didn’t notice the break in until days after it occurred. We don’t come in here often since our active caseloads are usually stored in our office filing cabinets. This room is primarily for storage of estate paperwork, land registry, and other files for reference. The Judge and I have keys, but anyone in the building could easily access it. Copies have been made many times over the years.” Alicia led Nancy to a room at the back of the building. The door, labeled Records, was a simple wood door with a normal lock. It would have been easy to pick if the culprit didn’t have a key.

                “How did you know the place was burgled?” Nancy asked as Alicia opened the door and switched on the light. The room was in a state akin to a tornado debris field. Her question was instantly answered.

                “We haven’t taken a full inventory of what’s missing yet. The Judge hopes that you will be able to help us make headway. My assistant Damien has made a start of the far wall. Pick a shelf and start searching.” Alicia gestured to the mess and left without another word. Nancy took in the mess before her and felt her excitement plummet. She was a detective, not a maid. She took off her jacket and hat and placed them on top of a filing cabinet before choosing a shelf. This was going to be a long day.

                What felt like hours, but was probably just minutes, passed as Nancy sorted folders and loose pages into piles. Folders which appeared to be miraculously complete were placed in one pile. Another was of orphaned pages which needed to be reunited with their folders. Nancy placed empty filing folders in another pile to hopefully be filled in. She would start the truly tedious work of reading the case files for organization once she had rid herself of the easy work.

                “Oh! I didn’t see you there.” A man with a thick mustache entered carrying filing box. Nancy stood up from where she’d been seated on the floor and brushed her hands off.

                “I’m Nancy Drew. I was asked by Judge Danforth to help investigate the break in. You must be Alicia’s assistant.” He nodded and moved towards the back of the room with his box.

                “I’ve got most of the back sorted out, but there’s still plenty of work to be done. Let me know if you need any help.” Damien went about his work without much fanfare. Nancy felt like they had been both served with a lackluster task. Nancy was just grateful that most of what she was sorting appeared to have just been tossed on the ground. As she worked she found that very little in the room was actually rifled through. The room appeared to have been ransacked for dramatic effect to hide the actual crime. She turned her focus to the loose pages and empty folders. The pages were unhelpful as they were all pages from the middle of packets pertaining to estate holdings. She looked through the empty folders and found them labeled; Frances Tuttle, Hathorne House, and AWO Claim. Whatever had been taken, these appeared to be her leads. Taking a break from her file sorting, she took the folders and returned to Alicia’s office.

                “Do you know if these were related to any open cases at the courthouse?” Nancy asked. Alicia looked up from her desk, which was covered in papers on land development. She looked at the empty folders and frowned.

                “Frances Tuttle was a local philanthropist that passed away recently. She was the resident of Hathorne House. It’s one of the oldest buildings in Salem. I don’t recognize the other file. Sorry.” Nancy took mental note of this information and returned to the records room. By the end of the day, the room had been put to relative order once more. The empty files she had discovered remained the only missing papers she couldn’t locate. Damien thanked her for her hard work before locking up the room for the night. The Judge had already gone home for the day, which irked Nancy a bit. She had hoped to update him right away on what she’d found. Alicia said she would pass on the information to the Judge and wished her well before closing up her office.

                Outside the courthouse the weather had changed with the setting sun. The breeze turned brisk and kissed Nancy’s face harshly. Leaves swirled in the street as she crossed towards the town square. The city was far from calming down as the evening rose. People walked in large groups to the local bars and restaurants. The shop windows were illuminated with colorful lights and spooky window displays. Nancy caught a whiff of seafood coming from a corner pub. Her stomach rumbled as she hurried down the streets toward the inn. She was excited to see the boys again after their fateful meeting that morning.

                The Daniels House Inn was bustling with people checking in and milling about the front entrance. The Hardy’s were standing in the front lobby as she entered. Frank’s crystal blue gaze lit up upon seeing her.

                “Hey Nancy! We were just about to ask the innkeeper if you were back.” Joe smirked, hands in the pockets of his red biking jacket. Frank was looking cozy in a pull over sweater and slacks. She smiled and nodded.

                “I just finished up at the courthouse. I’m starving.” The trio moved back out onto the street and followed their noses to the pub Nancy had passed. Major MagLeashe’s Pub was bustling with people. The chatter of voices mixed with the clinking of glasses and cutlery was exciting. They managed to get a table in the back. The building was every bit the irish pub with wood bars and tables, brick walls well loved by the ages, and music playing on the juke. Nancy ordered a bowl of chowder with a side of fries. Frank and Joe ordered cheese burgers and onion rings. They all sipped on waters while they waited for their food.

                “I just spent the entire day sorting through paperwork and file folders.” Nancy sighed dramatically. Frank’s interest was instantly peaked. Joe smiled, a witty remark fresh on his tongue.

                “Get any good paper cuts?” Joe grinned. Nancy held up her palms, pointing to a freckle.

                “I think this one will take me in my sleep. I’m not long for this world.” Joe laughed.

                “Why did you come all this way to sort paperwork?” Frank asked. Nancy launched into her recap of the day.

                “My father and the local Judge are old friends from law school. The courthouse records room had a break in. Judge Danforth asked for me to come see if there is anything specific which is missing and track down the culprit. He neglected to tell me that the place had been totally trashed. It took all day, but I managed to find only three folders with missing contents. They seem to pertain to an estate claim on one of the oldest private residences in Salem. I haven’t had time to track down any open cases at the courthouse related to it though.” Frank and Joe wore matching thinking faces. It must be genetic.

                “Did the room look deliberately trashed? Like they were trying to hide what had been taken?” Joe asked. Nancy nodded.

                “That’s what I think. The culprit must have been after these files and knew where to find them. They tossed the rest of the records room to make it look like an amateur had broken in.” Frank crossed his arms as he leaned back in his chair, eyes looking off into the middle distance.

                “Criminals don’t just break into records rooms. That’s like stealing from a library. You only would do something like that if you were trying to hide something, or you were sent by someone to get information that they didn’t have access to.” Nancy saw the logic in Frank’s train of thought. She’d have to make a note of this in her journal before bed. The waiter approached with a huge tray of food, breaking the trio out of their investigative circle. Once they had their plates in front of them and had begun to dig in, Nancy looked to her friends fondly. Her curiosity was blazing.

                “So… Interpol?” That was all it took for Joe to drop his burger and wipe ketchup off his chin with a napkin. Frank had abstained from tearing into his food like a ravenous wolf, sharing a long suffering look with Nancy.

                “A friend of dad’s at Interpol is following the theft of a rare book from a castle in Austria. It’s called the Book of Apologies. Apparently it’s the personal diary of a judge from the Salem Witch Trials. It documents his personal regrets in the years after the trials and deaths. The book is one of a kind and was on display in Moosham Castle. A few nights ago it was stolen in a brazen daytime robbery. The culprit left behind a homemade smoke bomb, a matchbook, and a fragment of a ticket to Boston.” Nancy was a touch envious of the case the boys were following. Having an Interpol contact ask for them personally was a big deal in their profession. Nancy wasn’t about to discount her own career prospects, but it was hard to not be impressed by the Hardy’s jet set adventures.

                “We traced the matchbook to a local café here in Salem. The Boston airport is the nearest international airport, so there’s a slim chance the thief is in the area. Interpol is pursuing other leads in Europe, but they wanted to make sure every thread was followed. It’s probably just busywork, but we made contact today with the café’s owner. If the lead doesn’t pan out then we have the rest of the week to enjoy the town for the holiday.” The rest of their meal was spent enjoying each other’s company. Music played loudly as the evening went on. Salem bustled with tourists and locals alike. For a place with such a grim history, it was a welcoming and happy environment. The trio paid for their meals and left as the autumn moon rose in the sky.

                “This place is great. I have traveled a lot, but this is somehow unique. It’s hard to put to words.” Nancy remarked as they walked down a side street. Shops selling antiques and merchandise were broken up by walking tours and smaller museums. Salem was dotted with bed and breakfasts, occult shops, and generic stores. Bess and George would have a field day with all the shopping.

                “We should pick up some souvenirs for Aunt Gertrude and dad before we leave.” Joe smiled, looking at a display of Salem shirts in a window. They were about to enter the shop when a siren blared in their ears. A fire truck zoomed down the street, followed by a commotion.

                “It’s the Hathorne House! It’s on fire!” A voice yelled. This declaration churned up pandemonium as many began running in the direction of the fire truck. The trio was dumbstruck as people began running past them.

                “What’s all that about?” Frank mused. Nancy suddenly broke into a run after the crowd.

                “Where is she going?” Joe asked. Frank didn’t answer. He followed. Joe sighed before giving chase. He preferred to be outside the loop, but still physically present. The crowd made it easy to locate the source of the drama. Nancy and Frank were struggling to see at the back of a throng of people. An old home was engulfed in flames, painting the sky and surrounding woods with inky smoke and orange light. The fire snarled and cracked as men with hoses battled it back.

                “Do they not have fires in Salem?” Joe asked his partners. Nancy struggled to look over heads and limbs.

                “That’s the house from the missing files. I don’t believe in coincidences.” Frank used his height to take in details of the scene. Lauren Holt was standing at the front of the inferno, hugging herself in shock. She was wrapped in a housecoat and wearing slippers. Clearly she had been getting ready for bed. Did she live here?

                “I’m beginning to agree with you Nancy. That’s the woman we talked to today about the theft. That’s a lot of coincidences.” Nancy stood on a large rock, using Frank’s shoulder for balance. The fire appeared to have started at the back of the structure, based on the near total consumption of that section. Trees were threatening to catch from the smoke and sparks flying about. Her lungs filled with the smell of burned wood and caustic ash. The firefighters appeared to have the blaze under control, which was a good thing. A fire in this area of town could easily turn into a forest fire. The house sat on a mostly wooded property. Frank braced her on the waist as the crowd was pushed back by the newly arrived police. She ended up sliding against him as they were moved back. This much excitement, along with the prolonged contact with the elder Hardy, took Nancy’s breath away.

                “Something is going on here.” Frank said matter-of-factly. Joe moved away from them to talk to someone in the crowd. Nancy found herself suddenly wrapped in Frank’s arm, pressed to his warmth. It was all suddenly too much excitement for her.

                “We should leave. The fire crew won’t be done for hours. We’re in the way.” Frank’s steel blue gaze took her in, as if suddenly aware how close she was.

                “Yeah. We should go.” Frank agreed. Neither moved an inch as the crowd began to disperse. Nancy decided not to think too hard about that.

                “This is apparently the oldest house in town.” Joe mused. When had he gotten back? The pair moved apart, acting casual. Joe’s brief walk about has produced two piece of information. The Hathorne House was the home of the Judge who presided over the Salem Witch Trials and Lauren Holt currently lived in the converted carriage house next door. Nancy saw a smaller structure further back on the lot. That must be where she had come from. It was not in danger of catching from the fire, but it had a full view of the blaze. Lauren must have seen it all from her windows.

                “Our cases are linked.” Nancy stated what they were all thinking. This was about to become very complicated. As the trio walked away from the fire, a face stared out from the woods, startling Nancy. As if they knew they had been seen, the face disappeared into the shadows. It was ghostly pale and unnatural. The hair was dark, but flat. Nancy couldn’t quite decide if she had imagined it.

A/N: Hello. It’s me. It’s been a while. Sum up of where I’ve been; I graduated college, I moved to another state to begin an internship, my dad died, I got into and then ended a relationship, and I’m now in the process of moving my stuff from my parent’s house to my new place. So yeah. I’ve been very distracted lately. I’m dusting off my writing project now that I have a chance to breath. I revised my outlines, face claimed some 70s actors for my mental benefit, and just sat down to freaking WRITE. I’m going through a lot still with all the change in my life, so returning to writing is very comforting. I will update as often as I can manage on my work schedule. Thanks for waiting.

~Himeko