29I'm sure you all probably just had to rub your eyes and do a double take when you saw I'd finally updated. It's been awhile, ages really, and I'm sure that has been frustrating for you. It's been frustrating for me too. I have to admit I lost my passion for writing. I've spent the last several years plotting and developing an original work called The Foundling, and when I began to post chapters under C. V. Atwood on FictionPress I got almost no response.
It was really disheartening and made me feel like a failure as a writer. I couldn't look at my fanfics that had so much love without being angry with myself. I'm hoping that won't happen moving forward. I did some sweeping edits to the opening chapter of The Foundling and posted a new chapter last night. Fingers crossed I get some sort of feedback. I appreciate it so much on these fics, and I don't want to find myself in that dark relationship with writing again.
So, please enjoy the long awaited Ch. 2 of The Pacific Perplexity. If you've stuck with it, you've more than earned it.
Much love,
Political Blonde
Nancy could feel herself shaking as Francine began frantically tittering into the shop phone, and the other shop attendants maneuvered Frank and the elderly woman into two of the lobby chairs. He still hadn't said a word, and Nancy was worried she had done some damage with her door stunt. She had, after all, been meaning to pummel that purse thief. She could hear her cell phone ringing madly from the showroom, but Rebecca would have to wait. Nancy wasn't about to leave without knowing Frank was okay; she wasn't sure she could take her eyes off of him even if he didn't have a growing purple knot on his head. Nancy took a steadying breath as one of the black garbed employees rushed from the back room with a bag of ice.
"Let me take that," Nancy called, her false southern accent forcibly calm as she took the ice from the red headed girl and pulled a chair in front of Frank. Francine could be heard giving the shop's address to someone on the other end of the phone. The attendant who had brought the ice dropped into the chair next to the elderly woman, placing a calming hand on her shoulder as the other women stood in the corner loudly discussing the dramatic turn their day had taken. Nancy uncomfortably shifted and shimmied as she lowered herself into the chair, and reached out to brush a few strands of brown hair off of the growing bump she had left. "Better get this ice on it before it gets any worse."
Frank nodded with a grimace as he took the bag from Nancy and pushed it to his forehead. Nancy fiddled with her hands in her lap, shooting a glance at the girls in the corner. "I'm very sorry about that sir. I was tryin' to stop that purse thief and you got caught in the crossfire so to speak. My name is Rebecca Carlisle. How are you feelin'? I hope I didn't cause too much damage."
Frank's expression was less than amused. "I heard you the first time Ms. Carlisle." He shifted painfully in his seat as he sighed deeply. "I'll be fine. It isn't anything I haven't handled before."
"You're used to being hit by doors?" Nancy jumped a little at the surprised female voice that cut in. She turned in her chair to see the red haired attendant from before making her way towards the two of them. Her brow was knitted in concern, her green eyes caressing Frank's forehead as she kneeled on the floor beside him. "I've got it from here, Ms. Carlisle. The police are on their way, and Francine wants to get you out of that dress before they arrive."
Nancy shifted in surprise. "Oh. I'm quite fine really. I just feel so terrible about slammin' this man in the face. I'd like to make sure he's alright."
"Well, if you're sure…"
"No." Nancy and the attendant flinched at the terse interruption by Frank. He slid the bag of ice higher on his forehead with a grimace. "Sorry, I didn't mean for that to come out so harshly. I've just got a raging headache." He gave a tight smile. "But really Ms. Carlisle I'll be fine." His dark eyes flicked briefly up to Nancy's. "Really, you should go."
Nancy swallowed, her throat feeling tighter than it should, as she rose from the chair. "If you insist." She gave a slight smile to the attendant before turning away towards the dressing room.
"So how does it feel to be clobbered by, Rebecca Carlisle? You can't have been serious that you've had this happen before." Nancy barely had time to hear the chair she'd vacated scrape across the floor before Francine was upon her.
NDHBNDHBNDHB
"Did you see any officers?" Claire asked as Lexi slid into the car beside her.
"Not so far, but the door is taped up, and I'm guessing locked as well. The landlord wouldn't let me get close enough to touch it."
Claire huffed as she sunk back into her seat. "Well she has to leave at some point. It's nearly 6:30 and even landlords have to go home for dinner."
"Yes, well let's just hope she doesn't live on site, or we're never getting in. Did you get my burger?"
"Of course." Claire passed over the paper wrapped meal as she began unfolding her own. "There was an In-N-Out on the corner. Jane raved about it the last time I spoke to her." She sighed, her dinner hovering inches from her mouth. "I hope wherever she is, she isn't hurt. It's never good when teenage girls get kidnapped."
"Don't worry sis, we'll find her." Lexi suddenly shot up. "The lights went out in the office." Her eyes watched the door intently as the elderly woman slipped out the door and locked in behind her before cutting across the parking lot to an old rusted out station wagon. "We're in luck. It looks like she's actually leaving the property."
"Thank goodness. I don't know how much more waiting I could have done. It was getting exhausting."
The two sisters waited for the woman's car to slip by them and onto the main road before opening their doors and stepping out into the evening air. The sun was already slipping behind the California haze, and a chill travelled up Lexi's spine as she shoved her hands into her hoodie. "Do you want to be on lookout or shall I?"
Claire shrugged. "I can do it. You're faster with the lock picking kit anyways, and it'll save my manicure."
Lexi cocked a brow. "You're really worried about your manicure at a time like this?"
"Just humor me, Lexi. I'm trying not to think about my best friend lying dead somewhere right now."
Lexi looked down at her feet guiltily. "Of course. Why don't you wait here at the bottom of the stairs; the apartment's just around the corner." Lexi waited just long enough for her sister to drop onto the lowest step before hurrying around the side of the building. Jane's brother couldn't have picked a better apartment for privacy. As Lexi knelt by the door she couldn't help but be thankful for the tall bushes that lent his front porch some privacy, or the way he was the only door squeezed onto the backside of the building. Even up above he did not have a balcony like so many of the other units. All these elements together made it perfect for a break-in.
Lexi slipped her lock picking kit from her pocket and carefully fumbled with the lock. Her tongue was pressed firmly to her cheek as she waited for the click. Any minute…great. "Claire," she hissed as she felt the mechanism release, "We're good." Her sister was at her side before she'd even stood up.
She drew a flashlight from the depths of her jacket. "Fabulous. Now just be careful with the crime scene tape."
"Mmmhhm." Lexi held up the yellow blockade as Claire ducked under, before sliding under herself and pulling the door behind her. "I've got the curtains. You start poking around."
Claire was off in an instant, her flashlight drawn and shining over every surface.
Lexi was just pulling the last curtain closed when Claire walked into the kitchen. "It's funny. I looked in the bedroom and the living room, but I can't find a single computer. I'm sure Jane brought her laptop, and you know Sam, he's a total geek. I thought for sure he'd have a few."
Lexi frowned. "You don't think it was a robbery gone bad do you?"
"I'd find that hard to believe. Sam has a sixty inch television and several gaming systems in plain sight."
"So then, what, you think the police took them?"
"I don't know. But come look in the bedroom." Claire motioned with her flashlight and Lexi followed her down the hallway. "Look at his desk." She shown her light on the table. "It's all dusty, except for this giant square here."
"Printer, maybe."
"I thought so too until I checked the top of the dresser. His wireless printer is over there. So what was so important that he needed to keep it within arm's reach of his laptop?"
Lexi bit her lip as she shown her light around the rest of the room. "I don't know. I wish the police hadn't brushed us off when we stopped by earlier. It would have been nice to know what was already removed." Her light swept across a blue leather bag handing over the bed post. "Look, they left Jane's purse."
Claire followed the trail of her sister's flashlight. "No way. That's a Michael Kors satchel. Jane could never afford that." She crossed the room and shown her light into the purse.
"Girlfriend?"
"I don't know. There isn't any wallet in here."
NDHBNDHBNDHB
Nancy sighed as she slid her phone from her pocket. It was blinking at her, the tiny blue light blaring brightly in her dimly lit hotel room. She sighed and dialed the number for her voicemail, quickly punching in her password before tossing it onto the bed.
"You have three new messages." Nancy smiled, knowing very well who they'd be from. She flipped her head over, her fingers running through Rebecca's hairspray laden curls as she forced her locks into a more comfortable ponytail.
"Nancy. What the hell is the meaning of this? You hung up on me! Call me back now. I want to know everything is alright with my dress."
Nancy flipped her head back up, hitting delete as she headed towards her closet. She was more than ready to slip out of Rebecca's overly tight crop top and leggings, and into a soft robe.
"Nancy! Seriously, what the hell. Just, what the hell! Is this how you treat all of your clients? If I call you, I expect an answer. If I send you to try on my dress and preen for my paparazzi then I expect you to send me pictures. So stop whatever it is your doing and give me a call back right this minute!"
Delete.
"Nancy you are so fired! Do you hear me? F-I-R-E-D—fired! I just saw on the news where I clobbered a man with a door. And in my wedding gown no less. What were you thinking! I am ruined, absolutely ruined. No one will want to work with a crazy she-banshee. I am so suing you for defamation of character. You hear that? I am suing you and I am firing your ridiculous father just so I can sue him too for ever recommending you handle my case. You're all fired, and done for. And don't you dare think for one second I'll let you go to the tabloids you—"
Nancy practically punched the phone in her rush to stop Rebecca's hate filled message. Nancy shoved the phone into the pocket of her robe and fell back on her bed, her eyes scanning the room as she tried to figure out what to do with her newly discovered free night. She knew she should feel more distraught over being fired, but it was hard not to feel a certain sense of relief at being released from her contract with Hollywood's rising young diva. Rebecca could certainly put on a pretty face and an adorable girl-next-door routine when in front of the cameras, but behind the scenes she was an absolute nightmare.
She had barely closed her eyes when her phone vibrated at her side. Nancy groaned as she slid it from her pocket and pressed it to her ear. "Hello?"
"Nancy! Nancy Drew! Ack, I don't know whether to kiss you or to fire you."
Her eyes blinked open in surprise. "Rebecca? W-what are you calling me for? I just listened to your message and it was pretty clear you fired me."
"Oh tosh, Nancy. I mean you really can't take everything a hormonal woman says seriously can you. Whenever things get a bit chaotic they just mix with the pregnancy hormones and next thing you know I'm being overly dramatic. I mean how could I fire you after today? I think my publicist wants to marry me, but only because she thinks I'm you. The news is all over it. I am Hollywood's new super celebrity. My agent is already getting calls for me to screen test for action movies. Action movies, Nancy!" She laughed. "I've never been in anything but soap operas and dramadies."
Nancy closed her eyes, a headache already forming. "That's great, Rebecca. I'm happy for you."
"It is, isn't it! But seriously Nancy, I need you pull this one through for me. My publicist thinks I should get some pictures with the woman I saved. She thinks we should really run with the story. The news stations have already tracked her down, and I sent my agent to go talk to her. I'm thinking the two of you should ring in Wake Up LA tomorrow, but I was thinking it would also be great to get the gentleman I clobbered on board as well so I—"
Nancy bolted up in the bed. "No, Rebecca."
"No? What do you mean no? I've already booked the segment."
"I'll do the segment, it's fine, but we don't need to drag the man into it."
"Why not? If I can show people I can take down a man with my womanly wits and strength, Shonna thinks I'll have no problem landing a role in Marvel's next production."
"Trust me, Rebecca, you don't want Frank on camera."
"Frank? You got his name. This is fantastic. I'll have Shonna look him up."
"Really, Rebecca. Don't. Besides, his head is all purple and blue. It'll ruin your shot."
Rebecca squealed. "I nailed him that hard? This is fantastic. I'm going to call Shonna right now. Did you get his last name?"
"Rebecca, this really isn't a great idea." Nancy's voice was curt. "I know this person from before I hit him with a door. We used to be friends. I just don't think this is a good idea if you want me to keep my cover."
"Used to be friends? How juicy. And here I thought you were some sleuthing spinster. Now I'm just going to have to meet him. In secret of course, got to protect our little ploy, but where is he staying? I'll—oh, hold on Nancy. I'll call you back later. Shonna is on the other line."
Nancy groaned and pressed the phone to her forehead as it clicked. Why did she and Frank Hardy have to have such a penchant for running into each other? Rebecca was never going to let this go. Being cooped up in her Beverly Hills mansion while she tried to hide her barely there post-pregnancy belly had left her bored, and desperate to nose in on everyone else's business. She had no doubt Rebecca would have her band of assistants searching for Frank before the night was out.
Dread filled her stomach as she pulled the phone away and began scrolling through her contacts. She'd have to warn him. Nancy paced as she listened to the phone ring, her nails digging into her palm. Come on Joe. Pick up.
"Hello. Hello. Hello. You've reached Joe. Drop a message and your number after the tone and I may get back to you."
Nancy cursed as Joe's flippant greeting came to a close and it switched to an automated message. "The voicemail you are trying to reach is full." Fantastic. Leave it to Joe to neglect his voicemail duties when she actually needed to get in touch with him.
She rubbed the back of her neck with one hand. Well there'd be no way around it. She took a deep breath as she punched the next number in. It had been a year, but her fingers still moved confidently across the screen. "Your call cannot be completed as dialed. Please hang up and try again." Nancy pulled the phone back, a frown crossing her face as she wrapped her free arm around her middle. When had Frank changed his number? Or had he simply blocked her number? She knew they hadn't spoken in a year, but—Nancy shook her head. Don't go there Drew.
She dialed once more, biting her lip as she waited for the hold music to be interrupted. "Hello Francine! Aren't you just sunshine to my ears. So about that incident earlier. Fabulous, I know. But honey, in all the pish posh of gettin' me out past the paparazzi I forgot to find out where that gentlemen I hit was stayin'. I want to have my agent rush him over a fruit basket, a sorry for his troubles. Yes, I do try to think of others. Anyways, I was wonderin' if you'd happened to catch where he was going?" Nancy watched the lights of cars packed on the streets below as she listened to Francine's muffled yells on the other end of the line. "Your attendant Jeanine drove him. Wonderful. The Hillview Plaza. Even more wonderful. And I'm sorry, but I just want to double check the name. I thought he said Frank Hardy. He did. Again, wonderful. Thank you so much." Nancy took a deep breath as she threw her phone back onto the bed. It was time to face Frank Hardy whether he liked it or not.
NDHBNDHBNDHB
Joe gave a shake of his blonde hair, allowing the water to splatter across his hotel mirror as he stepped out of the shower. It had been a long day of casing downtown streets hoping for a single purse snatching, and the only thing he had to show for it was a small child's ice cream mixed with vomit on his shoes. His stomach grumbled loudly as he entered his room and began pulling on some shorts. Of course Frank wasn't back yet. It wasn't unheard of for his brother to get so wrapped up in his work that he lost track of time, but it was seven o'clock already and Joe was starving.
He reached for his blinking phone and immediately pressed his brother's picture. He'd deal with his missed calls once he'd gotten something on his stomach. "Hey Frank where are you at? I'm starving."
His brother groaned. "Sorry. I completely forgot we'd planned to meet at seven."
Joe checked his hair in the mirror. "Does that mean you had some luck then?"
"I did witness a purse snatching, yes, but I lost the thief."
Joe snorted. "You lost the thief? I told you to take up jogging with me. You've got to be in perfect physical form if you want to catch the bad guys."
"I wasn't too slow, Joe. I got hit by a door." The irritation in his voice was evident even over the phone. "Look, I'll tell you about it later. I'm about to sit down to dinner."
Joe perked up. "By yourself or with someone? A girl maybe?"
"Yes, with a girl, Joe. I'll tell you about it later. She's on her way back to the table."
"Knock her dead, big brother. Show her some of the good old Hardy charms. And maybe pull a few moves from my book. These LA girls are something else, you know."
"I'll see you later."
Joe smirked as the phone clicked. So his brother had finally found a lady friend. It was about time. He hadn't been on a single date since his breakup with Callie, and single Frank was really getting to be a downer. Joe slid his shirt over his head as his stomach grumbled again. Well, he might as well hit the hotel buffet.
"Did you see the news about Rebecca Carlisle? She beat down some would be purse thief!"
"Marissa, that is so not what happened. TMZ is reporting it all wrong. The actual news says she accidently took out some guy who was chasing the would-be purse snatcher."
Joe glanced up from his chicken wings as two tanned girls in way to short skirts sat at the table across from him. Their loud voices carried across the otherwise quiet restaurant in oblivious excitement.
The girl called Marissa laughed loudly as she twisted her long blonde hair over her shoulder. "That's even better than the first story. Girl power meets epic fail."
The other girl rolled her eyes and pointed her fork at the first. "Well the news is still calling her a hero. I mean at least she tried. Can you imagine trying to stop a purse snatcher in a wedding dress? She was over on Beverly too. I thought that was supposed to be a posh place."
Joe cocked his head. It couldn't be. A celebrity had knocked out someone chasing a purse snatcher on Beverly, that's where he'd sent Frank this morning. Joe dropped his unfinished wing and fished his phone from his pocket, quickly searching for Rebecca Carlisle and purse snatcher. He was instantly rewarded with several dozen news stories. Joe clicked one randomly and waited for the pictures to load before zooming in.
A smile slipped across his face. "Oh, big brother you are never living this down. Beat down by a soap star." He reached for his water and scrolled down, a picture of Rebecca Carlisle sliding into view. Suddenly Joe spluttered, sending his water shooting across his unfinished meal. The two girls just a table over cast him a dirty look. "No way." He zoomed in closer, analyzing the familiar blue eyes and trying to pick apart her face under the thick layers of make-up. There was no mistaking it. This wasn't Hollywood starlet Rebecca Carlisle looking back at him. It was Nancy Drew.
"Tell me about it later you will." Joe smirked and leaned back in his chair. So his brother was on a date with Nancy Drew. Way to go Frank. Joe popped some fries into his mouth as he scrolled through a few of the articles, his head shaking in amusement as he found a close-up of Frank's forehead complete with a large purple and blue knot.
"Frank Hardy. H-A-R-D-Y. Or it could be under his brother Joe."
Joe looked up in confusion as he hear his name from across the lobby. Who would be looking for him in LA? He pushed himself out of his chair so he could get a better look and frowned. A woman was leaning over the front desk, her hands pressed into the counter as she argued with the clerk. Her dark auburn hair had been pulled into a ponytail that just peaked out from under her baseball cap and she wore far too dark shades for the dimly lit reception area.
"I'm sorry ma'am but I'm not at liberty to share guest information. Our clients choose our lodging for the privacy. If you could give me their room number I'd be happy to see if that does in fact correspond to the person you are inquiring about, and give them a call."
"He didn't give me his room number. I'm an old friend though, and we bumped into each other by surprise earlier."
"Ma'am, I am sorry but—"
"It's okay." Joe jogged up to the desk. "I'm Joe Hardy. I've got it from here." Joe leaned against the counter next to the girl, trying to pick apart her face beneath her overly large glasses.
"Joe Hardy! Thank goodness. I've been trying to reach you, and Frank's number doesn't seem to work anymore."
Joe nearly slipped off his elbow as he recognized the voice. "Nancy? You're here. In this hotel. But I thought you'd be with Frank."
He couldn't see her eyes, but he could see her frown. "Why would I be with Frank?"
Thanks all. Please drop a review if you enjoyed it. Feedback means so much to me as a writer. It's the only way I am able to grow and evolve, and it is how I build my relationship with you. If you really enjoy my work, and are interested in young adult fantasy, I'd really appreciate it if you hopped on over to FictionPress as well and checked out The Foundling. Username: C. V. Atwood. I'd really like to get some input on my original work. It is my heart and soul, and I want nothing more than to make it the best it can be.
Much love,
Political Blonde