Nancy Screw and the Coming of Age (18+) Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Sundae Detective Agency

The next afternoon Nancy was in her room catching up on the passage of fiction that led her down a trail of facts when a knock came at her bedroom door. Nancy got up and answered it. Her mother stood at the threshold.

“Nancy, you have a visitor.” A look of surprise and uncertainty came upon her face.

“Oh, thank you for letting me know.” Nancy kissed her mother on the cheek and walked to the front door. In the doorway stood Charles Turner.

“Good afternoon, Nancy,” Charles announced. His face was still puffy and blue, but the swelling was starting to subside considerably.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Turner,” Nancy replied.

“Would you mind going for a short walk with me around the block?”

“Sure,” Nancy replied.

“And, please. Call me Charles.”

“Okay,” Nancy chuckled. “Okay Charles.”

The two stepped off the porch and began their short trek along the sidewalk.

“Nancy,” Charles began. “I wanted to come by personally and thank you. I also wanted to let you know that if it wasn’t for your concern for me, I may not be here walking with you today. I want you to know how grateful I am.”

Nancy smiled and blushed in response.

“I also want you to know that because of you, I still have my house and my practice. I am in your debt, Nancy. If there’s anything you need, please let me know.”

Nancy stood there in silence. Charles reached into the front pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out two business cards.

“Oh, Charles,” Nancy interrupted. “We never did find out what that strange note meant. You know, the one that was talking about 500.00 for the job?”

Charles paused and fell silent for a moment.

“You know,” he replied. “I came upon the strangest thing the other day when I was getting Margaret and I’s old house back together. In the guest bedroom I found what seemed to be some crumpled pages in an old portrait of her and. I took them out and found that they were part of what appeared to be her diary.”

Nancy looked at him curiously.

They had been the pages the three had been looking for. She hadn’t mentioned the diary or the fact that she was in the house in the first place to the police. Somehow, she knew that it wouldn’t be the best for her, or Mr. Turner. She had, however, mentioned the locket and that she looked up the house to give her the item back and, in the process, grew suspicious of Margaret. Thus, eventually leading to her finding Mr. Turner.

“Then who actually kidnapped you?”

“His last name is Tanner. That’s all I can say. Well, that’s what the police told me. The diary, as well. I took the pages to the police and they found and arrested him. Apparently, he was their last resort for motivating me to sign those papers.”

Charles stopped for a moment, then continued.

“I’m sure, given more time, you would have found that out, too, Nancy.” Charles pointed to the two cards he had handed Nancy. “You’re quite the detective.”

“There’s my number in case you ever need to reach me.” Charles crossed the street and Nancy looked on. When he had crossed the street, she looked down at the two cards. In between them was a crisp, folded hundred dollar bill. She looked up in surprise and went to catch up with Charles Turner, but, by the time she located him, he was driving away on down the street. Nancy ran back into the house and picked up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Beth,” Nancy said excitedly. “You’ll never guess what happened.”

“What, Nancy? What?”

“Wanna meet me at Valley? I feel like a shake.”

“Well, sure.”

“Invite Janet, too,” Nancy added and hung up the phone.

Soon after their conversation, a very curious Beth and Janet met Nancy at the Valley Pharmacy and Malts as she had requested. They were already sitting down at a booth when Nancy walked in.

“Nancy, over here,” Beth waved. Nancy walked briskly over and joined them.

“Hey,” Beth and Janet said, hugging Nancy as she sat down.

“What’s going on,” Beth inquired.

“Well,” Nancy answered. “I was at home finishing my book, reading about Charles Turner getting out of another mess, when the real life Charles Turner arrived on my doorstep.”

Beth and Janet leaned over, curious and a touch concerned.

“Is everything alright,” Janet asked, attempting to break the suspense.

“Oh, yea. Everything is wonderful,” Nancy reassured. “He just came by to thank me once more for everything we did and to let me know that everything would be alright with him.”

Beth and Janet smiled.

“Sounds like they got what was coming,” Beth commented.

“I think so,” Nancy agreed. “He didn’t go into too many details, however.”

The two understood. Nancy reached into her shirt pocket.

“He also gave me this.” She held out the hundred dollar bill. “I tried to catch up with him to give it back, but he drove away too quickly.”

A look of awe flashed upon Beth and Janet’s faces as they witnessed Nancy flatten the crisp bill on the table space before her.

“Is that?”

“Yep,” Nancy replied.

“This also got me thinking. We are a great team. I mean, we solved this thing before the police.” Nancy paused as Mr. Jenkins came up to their table to drop off a few menus and three glasses of water.

“We probably saved Mr. Turner’s life. I’m proud of you guys. You really pulled through and I couldn’t have done it without your help.” Nancy took a drink of water.

“Thanks, Nanc,” Beth added.

“Oh, you’re welcome. Also, thank you for your help and support about Billy.” Nancy grew a little sad thinking about it, but, being in as good of company as she was currently, it was hard to stay down.

“It could have been a lot worse if you two hadn’t been there.” Nancy smiled and Beth and Janet matched her expression.

“Helping out Mr. Turner really made the rest of my year. And I want to do more of the same.” Nancy paused and looked out the window where Venture Park sat and, on the crest of the nearest hill, the highest tree, where they had found the majority of their vital leads, stood.

“I want to start a detective agency.”

Both sisters looked at each other and then back at Nancy, who continued her speech soon after.

“And I want it to be the three of us, together, like we were for Mr. Turner. I think we can do a lot of good.”

There was a long pause before anyone said anything after that. The two had to think, Nancy got that. They needed a little time to get every fact right and to consider what this sort of dedication might entail.

“I’m in.” Janet stretched out her hand and put it on the table in the space between the two booths. Nancy’s immediately joined her. Beth sat there sipping her water. Then, a third hand entered the circle.

“Oh what the hey, you two need a driver and my smarts.” She giggled and the other two joined her.

“Just don’t replace me when you other two learn to drive, okay?”

“How could we replace you, Beth,” Nancy said as she leaned forward to embrace her.

“So, do you have a name for this agency,” Beth asked Nancy.

“Not yet. I’ve been thinking about it.”

“Well,” Beth replied, looking around at the atmosphere of the Valley Pharmacy and Malts. “What about the Sundae Detective Agency? We can be the Sundae Detectives.”

The other two laughed and then repeated the name to themselves.

“It’s catchy,” Janet commented. “It’s catchy and I can’t get it out of my head. It’s also fun sounding.”

“Then we’re the Sundae Detectives,” Nancy announced. “And this is the first meeting of the Sundae Detective Agency.”

Mr. Jenkins came by just as the three agreed. He took out his notepad and a pen.

“Cherry Sundaes,” the three declared in unison and Nancy gave him the bill.

“This one’s on me.”

… and what of the fictional Charles Turner? The summary goes as follows:

Charles Turner was on the lam. He knew there would be no end to the degree of madness that would follow if he didn’t bring the rest of those responsible to justice. He knew that his family would never be safe. Hell, they could be in the same situation he had been, or worse.

Turner had sent two of the thugs into the drink. He remembered another that had been on the rooftop before. Could he have been the leader? How did he know? So he sat there, on the edge of an industrial cliffside he waited, peering through a pair of binoculars he had bought with one of those thugs dirty money. He sat and waited for more of them to show up. They had to try to reconnect with them at some point. And try they did. Two cars pulled up at the eve of night, seeking an explanation as to why there had been no response, no check in, no we’re gonna be a little late. And like with the real-life Charles Turner, there had been a familiar face amongst the misanthropes. However, he was but a family friend. A friend of his brother’s. He was so close, no wonder he nominated Charles as a “boo-boo” cover-up. But unlike with the real Charles Turner, who couldn’t kill anyone, the fictitious one sure did. On sheer luck and gut reaction, a simple father and 9-5er found his killer’s instinct and fulfilled that oath that he had made to his wife there on the alter all those years ago; to love and protect her in sickness and in health.

Sometimes, when you’ve got everything to lose, you find that you’re willing to risk it all.

END