by Micol Ostow
The opposing faction may have been smaller in number, but their reaction was tremendous. Riotous shouting broke out instantly, and the chief gave a short nod that immediately sent a group of his officers weaving down the aisles with their arms out, aiming to keep the peace.
My father clapped me on the back. “I wish I could say I was surprised. This town …”
My jaw dropped. “But … that’s it?” My eyes filled with hot tears. “Dad, we can’t just, just—leave this way! It’s Daisy!”
He sighed. “Believe me, sweetie, I know. And I wish there were something else I could do right now.”
“Talk to him,” I begged, my voice cracking. “Say something to McGinnis. He’ll listen to you.”
Dad gave me a half-hearted smile. “I think you overestimate my powers of charm and persuasion, hon. Or you underestimate the influence his constituents have over him. Either way, this isn’t over yet. You know Daisy’s parents won’t rest until she’s found.”
“Melanie, too,” I said. “I mean, obviously Daisy’s the one that’s legitimately driving me crazy, but Melanie’s in danger too. Her mom was right. It’s gross the way that the chief didn’t think to amp up his investigation until a Dewitt went missing.”
“Nancy,” my father said, his voice calm, “I know you’re upset and worried about your friend. And I don’t blame you. I’m worried too, I promise you. But another reason that the search may have escalated when Daisy vanished? Not only her last name, but the fact that at that point, there were two girls missing.”
I gave him a look. “Okay, sure. Use logic.”
He kissed me on the forehead. “Let’s get home. Preparations for Naming Day will go on—”
“Ridiculous,” I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Maybe so,” he offered, “but your mom and I are on the case. The whole town is, even those who raised their hands in favor of carrying on with Naming Day.”
Traitors. I glanced at the stage. Theo was still up there, looking agitated, but now he was joined by a girl—Anna, Caroline’s friend from the quad, who I knew was in Drama Club with Melanie, Caroline, and Daisy. Whatever she was saying to him—it was too crowded for me to read her lips—it seemed to calm him down well enough. After a minute, he walked off with her, his shoulders slumped and his head down.
Dad grabbed my hand and squeezed it. His hand was warm, his grip, comforting. “We’ll find them, Nancy,” he said. “I promise.”
I nodded. My father didn’t break promises. It was one of the amazing-est of his many amazing qualities.
But this time, he wouldn’t even need to worry about it.
Because there was someone else on the case too:
Me.
CHAPTER NINETEEN Saturday
They come at daybreak.
“Of course, if you train them, they’ll come any time you holler, but it’s best if they’re trained. Otherwise, before you know it, they have a mind of their own.
“And no one wants that.
“One needs … obedience.”
I want to ask, Who are you? but I’m in the dream again, submerged, deep within the nightmare, wide-planked floors beneath my bare feet, an open window, a curtain dancing in the breeze… .
The acrid, sickly sweet scent of rot, a trace of … manure? Yes, manure, like I smelled in the town square the other night.
You’re forgetting something, Nancy. Something important. Some detail that is the key to everything that’s unraveled since …
I freeze. In the dream, I know.
The ravens are coming again.
They come at daybreak.
Or so I hear.
And now they come again. For me.
* * *
I woke up, gasping, to the chirp of morning birds. Not a sound I usually equate with terror, but maybe there were new rules in this new, post-Daisy world.
I shuddered. Don’t even think it, Drew.
She’s not gone. Because you’re going to find her.
You’re forgetting something, Nancy. The idea had come to me—no, the certainty. I could definitely upgrade it from “idea” to “certainty.” But regardless, there was something I was missing.
The irony, though, was that knowing I was forgetting something did nothing to spur a memory.
I stepped out of bed and wrapped myself in a cozy robe, hoping that it would be comforting in a way that my thoughts weren’t. It only semi-worked. More comforting was the sound of the coffee maker as I padded downstairs. Mom and Dad were in the kitchen, the newspaper disassembled and strewn everywhere.
“Morning, hon,” Mom said, looking up as I padded into the room. She smiled, but concern was etched into her features. “Did you sleep okay?”
That smell … the beating of birds’ wings.
I gave her my brightest look, the opposite of how I felt. “I did. Why?”
She gave a slight frown. “Nothing, really … I just … thought I’d heard you talking in your sleep.”
“Must’ve been dreaming.” I fixed a cup of coffee in my favorite mug, which didn’t say THE FUTURE IS FEMALE, but it did prominently feature a smiling and capable Rosie the Riveter, and that definitely felt on theme. I sat down at the table and took a sip, trying not to look too contemplative in front of my parents. Didn’t want to worry them. More.
“Didn’t sound like a very pleasant dream. But if you don’t remember it, I guess it couldn’t have been that big of a deal.” She slid a plate of toast my way, and I plucked a slice up, crunching into it delicately.
Snap. The sound, improbably, reminded me of the crackle of the leaves as I sat in the town square pagoda. Even knowing now that it was only Parker, that sensation of being watched came over me again, viscous as an oil slick, and I shuddered. I set the toast back down and nudged the plate away.
“You sure you’re all right?” Now it was Dad, peering at me curiously. “You look a little … peaked.”
“Oh, stop,” I said, pretending to blush. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”
“Leave your poor parents alone,” Mom said. “Yes, we worry. So sue us. These are worrying times; we reserve the right to hover.”
I swallowed. And here I’d managed to go three whole minutes without thinking about Daisy. “Hover away… .”
Slowly, my eyes lit on something. It was Dad’s wallet, resting on the shelf beneath the landline we still kept mounted to the wall, though I didn’t think anyone had used that phone since before I was born. The shelf was basically a landing pad for essentials: keys, cash, cell phones … so it wasn’t strange to see Dad’s wallet tossed there.
It wasn’t strange … but it did jostle something in my mind. Was it … could it be … a thread?
Wallet? I thought back to the town hall meeting. Chief McGinnis had said that a note was found in Daisy’s wallet … which his team had found in her locker. That all tracked. In a million years, Daisy wouldn’t have left her wallet in her locker voluntarily … so it stood to reason that the left-behind object was definite evidence of her having been taken.
No one had found any note from Melanie, nor mentioned any clues. The only indication that she’d gone missing was her not showing up to meet with Theo … and then her subsequent absence.
Yes, she was gone. No, she hadn’t necessarily been taken by the same people … or under the same circumstances as Daisy had.
If Melanie’s wallet hadn’t been left behind, then what had? I had to know.
I stood from the table abruptly. “Gotta run,” I said, taking a last gulp of coffee. “I just realized there’s something I need from the school.”
“Naming Day stuff?” Mom asked. “The costumes are ready, by the way. If you want you can take them with you now and drop them off.”
“Thanks,” I said, leaning down to give her a quick kiss. “I will.”
* * *
Daisy’s locker had been cordoned off as a crime scene, but a pair of latex gloves and my lock-picking kit and I was in, no problem. The good news was, m
y nightmare meant I’d woken early enough that even with all the Naming Day prep soon to be happening all over town, the halls at school were completely deserted. I glanced at my watch; probably not for much longer, though. If I was going to do this, it had to be now.
Daisy’s original padlock had been cut by the police, but they’d put on a new one after, for safekeeping, I guessed. I held my breath for a moment while my lockpick jiggled in the keyhole, but after a second it gave a satisfying click, leaving me to take another deep breath before opening my missing friend’s locker to have a search of my own.
It was like stumbling onto a rapture scenario. Before me was Daisy’s life, as of two days ago, frozen in time. I gasped, unprepared for the flood of emotions that came over me.
Daisy’s bag, which would have held her wallet, was a deep gray leather that converted from a messenger bag to a backpack depending on her mood. Magnet photo frames on the inside of the door held up photo-booth shots of Daisy, Lena, and me singing karaoke (badly) at a Chinese restaurant outside of town that hosted theme nights. If I closed my eyes, I could remember that particular evening: The theme was the eighties. The three of us had our hair in teased-up high ponytails and wore fishnet fingerless gloves. We had dim sum, spare ribs, and soup dumplings that I could still taste if I tried hard enough.
Another photo, this one of her and Cooper at homecoming, her in her cheer costume and him with eye black running in sweaty smudges. We’d won that game. How was Cooper dealing? I wondered.
I sniffed and realized a tear was running down my face.
No time to get mushy, Drew. There was work to do. But this detour down memory lane reminded me of what I was working for, if nothing else.
One thing a good detective and a good actor have in common? They both know it’s all about motivation.
Daisy’s locker was exactly as I’d expected it to be, down to the lingering scent of tuberose from the Michael Kors perfume she doused herself in every morning. It was painful to confront, but it was what it should have been.
Now to have a peek at Melanie’s.
* * *
More police tape, another padlock. Another opportunity to break out my lock-picking kit.
Like riding a bike.
Melanie’s locker door gave a smooth click and opened for me like a book.
If Daisy’s had been a rapture scene, this was … postapocalyptic? No, that was too harsh, suggesting a wake of destruction. What I found inside of Melanie’s locker was the opposite of that. In fact, it was basically the opposite of everything, of anything.
It was completely and totally empty.
Melanie hadn’t left a note behind.
She hadn’t left anything behind.
Did she just happen to have an extremely thorough kidnapper? I wondered. Or were her circumstances different than Daisy’s?
It wasn’t really a question.
I felt a tap on my shoulder and jumped.
“Nancy, relax!” It was Lena, holding her hands up—sorry, my bad. Parker was with her. “It’s just us.”
“What are you guys doing here?” I asked. “It’s crazy early.”
“Practically the whole town is up. Naming Day Festival is here!” Faked enthusiasm that Lena punctuated with an eye roll. “Half the high school is over at the fairgrounds, working to get the sets and stages up.”
“The reenactment,” I breathed. “It’ll be today.”
“In theory, yes,” Lena said. “Though given how badly someone out there doesn’t want it to happen, I kind of can’t believe it myself. It seems reckless.”
“Phoebe Keller was Daisy’s understudy, right?” Was it possible we were overlooking the most obvious suspect there was? It would be cliché, but it would be a relief to solve this case.
Parker looked at me. “I see where you’re going with this, but no. When I talked to Phoebe, she said she doesn’t want to go on. She doesn’t feel comfortable taking Daisy’s part. She’s on Team No Naming Day, it turns out.”
“You … talked to Phoebe?” I felt a little charge: a thrill that he’d had the same impulse I’d had. Followed swiftly by a prick of annoyance that he’d followed that impulse without me.
With Parker, it felt like I’d finally met my match.
Was it possible that wasn’t actually such a good thing?
I shook my head, trying to dislodge the thought. “Team No Naming Day, huh? We could probably stand to have a few more of those around. Although, if McGinnis insists on pushing forward, it could work in my favor and draw the kidnapper out.” If he doesn’t kill Daisy first. I pushed the thought away. “So, who ended up taking her part?”
Lena frowned. “I don’t know. Maybe no one. I mean—I think Stephenson might have done a quick rewrite so the part was cut completely.”
“I’d approve … if it didn’t feel slightly ominous.”
“So what are you looking for here?” Parker asked. “And how badly is McGinnis going to kick your ass when he sees you trespassing on his crime scene?”
“Ah,” I said, “but see, that’s why I do it when he isn’t around. So he can’t see.” I tapped my forehead. “Always one step ahead.” Also? I’ve conveniently got my family-friend-slash-detective, Karen, looking out for me. Not that it’s a privilege I’m looking to abuse.
“Cute. But really. Did you find anything?”
“In Daisy’s locker, yes. I found everything. It’s like she literally vanished into thin air. Which obviously makes sense, if she was abducted, because the kidnapper wasn’t going to be too worried about making sure she had her pics of her besties singing old-school Madonna over soup dumplings.”
Lena’s eyes brightened, shiny with nostalgic tears. “She still had that picture up?”
I nodded. “Has.” I was firm. “She’s not gone. Well—I mean, she is gone, but it’s not permanent. We can’t be using past tense.”
“You’re right.” She pointed. “Melanie’s locker?”
“Melanie’s locker is exactly the opposite of Daisy’s—as in, picked clean, not a trace of Melanie left behind. As if someone had time to clean it … and reason to do so.”
“What kind of reason? Whoever took Melanie wants to make sure she keeps up with her trig homework?” Parker asked.
“That’s one theory.” Personally, I had my own. But I was going to do a little more digging before offering an opinion.
“So, are you almost done, then?” Parker asked. He shifted toward me, and I could feel his hope through the air.
“Not … really?” I could tell it wasn’t the answer he was hoping for. I wanted to reach out and comfort him, but something stopped me. It was my best friend missing. I was the one in need of comfort.
“You’re not coming with us to the fairgrounds?” Lena asked, looking truly disappointed.
“I can’t.” I gestured vaguely at the locker, but she understood.
“Do you want us to stick around? We could help,” Parker offered.
“Thanks,” I said. “But actually, it would be more helpful if you could go back to the fairgrounds as per your original plan. I’m going to need you to be my eyes and ears on the ground while I follow this lead.”
“What lead?” Lena asked. “There’s nothing in there.”
“That’s kind of the point,” I said. “I promise, I’ll explain later. But in the meantime, can you cover for me? Keep a lookout? If the kidnapper—or whoever is behind all the different weird things going on—is going to do something big, today would be the day. They could catch us by surprise no matter how much we may think we’re all on high alert.”
“If you really think that,” Parker said, concern etched across his forehead, “why do you insist on keeping at this?”
“For the same reason you talked to Phoebe,” I said. “This is a mystery that needs solving.” I shrugged. “I know it’s stressful. But it’s what I do.”
He looked to Lena, who nodded. “If it’s any consolation, she’s very good at it.”
“Okay,” he sa
id, exhaling and running a hand through his hair, leaving it adorably tousled. I stood and smoothed it back into place. In turn, he brushed my cheek with his hand. “Keep an eye out and an ear to the ground. We can do that. What else?”
“Actually, there’s a bag of costumes sitting in my back seat that my mom just finished up. Can you bring those to the fairgrounds?”
“On it,” Lena said.
Parker gave me a kiss. “Text me.”
“I will,” I promised. “And you guys keep me posted.”
* * *
Anna Gardner was easy to find. Google gave me her address on the first try. 18 Maiden Lane. When I pulled up, there was only one car in the driveway. I prayed that meant Anna was home alone, though that seemed like a lot to ask for. If I had to, I could find a way to ask the questions I needed to ask while her parents were around. But for once since this whole mess began to unravel, it would be nice to catch a break.
I rang her doorbell, smoothing my shirt out over my jeans self-consciously as I waited for someone to answer the door. For a few excruciating beats, I heard nothing but silence.
Finally, though, the door opened.
A small break. Hallelujah.
It was Anna, looking completely confused by my presence, which was valid. “Um, Nancy Drew?” she asked, blinking. “What are you doing here?”
“Are your parents here?” I asked.
“No, I’m alone … ,” she said slowly, like she was maybe worried about me. You and me both, Anna.
“Oh, okay.” That was a relief. Small favor number two. I wondered if I was going to run out soon. There had to be a cap on these things. “And you’re not heading off to Naming Day?”
She made a face. “I can’t believe they didn’t call it off. Only Horseshoe Bay would charge full steam ahead with something like Naming Day even with a girl missing and a kidnapper literally demanding we call it off. Two girls missing.”
“But you’re a senior,” I said.
She gave me a strange half grin. “And yet.”