Since the age of seven, I adored Nancy Drew—she was smart, independent, well-mannered. She drove a Mustang and always managed to outsmart all those dumb people trying to get away with theft, or murder, or any variety of misbehavior. She always knew where the secret passageways were. I devoured every new mystery that came out, soaking up all kinds of mystery-solving tidbits.
Some of which, apparently, come in handy when trying to track down a woman who gave a bad check and a wrong phone number at a yard sale. See, I was banking on the lazy factor. It’s fairly easy to sweet talk a couple of gullible twentysomethings who are selling old Star Wars toys and music gear in front of their little gray house. It’s fairly easy to write a bad check and put a fake number at the top. But it’s much harder to fake a whole identity, to get a bank account under a false name, and so on. And her check had an address on it. So, thanks to the Internet, I found a phone number that was attached to her address in some random online Brunswick County something-or-other newsletter. There was a completely different name with the address, though, so I didn’t figure on it working, but I called anyway. A man answered, and I asked for [name omitted] and he said, much to my surprise and pleasure, that he’d be talking to her in about a half hour and would have her call me back!
Now, of course, she hasn’t called back. But the exciting part was successfully finding her! In less than ten minutes! Just dye my hair titian and tell Hannah I’ll be home before midnight.
Part of the problem with having a former Nancy obsession is that I tend to inflate the mystery in my head, becoming more focused on solving it than in the people involved, so I’m handing the whole thing over to Jesse to handle from here on out. Because he is not that upset about it and is able to deal with it with much more grace and aplomb than I would, and because he is more concerned with what’s going on with this woman than in the principle of the matter.
But, if he needs further help tracking her down—or if he runs into any secret passageways—he knows where to find me.
4 Comments
Good job super sleuth! It is awesome that you get involved in the mysteries and have such a desire and knack for solving them; however, perhaps you are wise to let Jesse handle the resolution of the issue. That woman is a jerk! I hope things work out well for you.
By the way, I didn’t know Nancy drove a Mustang. Cool!
Nancy lived by too many rules; she was too honest, too good. Hardy Boys were willing to break the rules and go against the law. By now, Frank would be picking up all the clues and following through on the case methodically, ignoring his father’s advice and worrying his Aunt Gertrude. Meanwhile, Joe is hanging off the edge of a cliff after an exciting chase, the old (yet somehow spry) old woman barely evading him.
Also, it would turn out she’s a secret agent with a terrorist organization. Or a part of a diamond smuggling ring. Your amp was the key to her evil plot. Sorry
I wonder who that man on the other end of the line was! And what he was supposed to talk to her about! And I suppose letting Jesse handle the rest is a good idea because, if I were you, I’d want to dig up everything I possibly could about the woman, start showing up at her bingo hall or bridge club or whatever, just to cause her anxiety.
Michael, I have never read the Hardy Boys, so I’ll have to take your word for it. Though I must stick up for Nancy–it’s may be harder to play by the rules, but it takes creativity, smarts, and moxie to do so and still solve all those mysteries! But you’re right. I’m certain the amp is part of a larger crime ring right here in Leland. We must stop it before the old lady terrorists take over!