The Mystery at Faldor Hotel Ch. 01

"Aunt Eloise!" Nancy exclaimed into the telephone. "Why, it's been ages! How are you?"

"I'm doing Well, Nancy," Eloise Drew assured. But, after the two exchanged short pleasantries, the older woman imparted, "I'm afraid that a dear friend of mine may not be doing so well, though."

"Oh?" Nancy asked, becoming more serious as her aunt's tone turned to one of concern, but also unable to keep a tinge of excitement from her voice when she assumed, "I get the feeling you have a mystery for me to solve."

"Well, I hope not. My friend and co-worker, Susan Quinn, has gone to Maine on vacation and has fallen out of touch. I haven't heard from her in four days and, when I call the hotel she's staying at, they patch me through to her room, but there's never any answer. I've left messages, but she doesn't return my calls and now I'm quite worried for her."

"Where in Maine is she staying?" Nancy queried.

"A small town called Cinder Bay. It's right on the coast. I've decided to fly in to check up on her. I know you've just graduated high school and you probably have a million fun things planned, but I was hoping you could come along as well. I have a feeling I could use a real detective on the case."

"Of course I'll go with you- that is as long as Dad says it's okay, but I'm sure he will. And if it's okay with you, I'll see if Bess and George will come along too."

"That's a great idea, Nancy. I hope I'm wrong, but I have a feeling that we might need all the help we can get on this one."

After putting her aunt on hold, the tall, attractive eighteen year old with medium length, dark blonde hair and bright blue eyes hurried to her father's study to explain the situation.

"Hm," Carson Drew commented as his thoughtful eyes studied Nancy's hopeful features. "Sounds like a mystery, alright. But I've never even heard of Cinder Bay."

"Me neither," Nancy admitted, waiting for the approval she was almost sure she'd receive, "but if there's a hotel there, than it must be a fair sized town and I bet I can convince Bess and George to join us."

Carson chuckled, agreeing with, "I bet you can too, but be careful, Nancy. Maine isn't like River Heights and sometimes people in small towns can be a little bit... different."

"I will, Dad," she assured, almost overcome with excitement at the possibility of another mystery to solve, especially since her aunt would be accompanying her.

After informing Eloise of her father's permission, the two said their goodbyes so that Nancy could call Bess Marvin.

"Maine?" Bess asked. "On the coast? Why, of course I'd like to go. My, I'll bet they have the best seafood restaurants there!"

Bess, also eighteen, was well known for her appetite and her slightly plump figure attested to this. At five foot, seven inches tall, her rather large breasts and round hips often seemed to attract attention from boys despite her size, and her blonde hair, worn just past her shoulders, and blue eyes added to her pretty facial features.

Trying not to laugh at her friend's excitement, Nancy warned, "Bess, this could be a serious mystery. There may not be time for fine dining."

"There's always time for eating, Nancy," Bess maintained with a carefree laugh. "Why, we'd starve to death if we didn't!"

Rolling her eyes and allowing a smile to infect her voice, Nancy assured Bess that she'd wait while she went to ask her parents, but the thought of how the boys looked at her curvy friend brought back the memory of a recent evening spent with her boyfriend, Ned Nickerson.

They'd driven out to Lookout Point after seeing a movie together to celebrate graduation. At first, everything went the way their dates usually went. They exchanged a kiss, which was normal, then they kissed some more, which wasn't usual but not exactly abnormal. Then, before she knew it, they were having sex and she'd lost her virginity to him in a painful act that made her feel dirty and violated. There was even blood and, though her aunt had told her of these things when she'd explained all about the birds and the bees, the reality of what had happened seemed far different than Eloise's rather colourless information on the subject of sex.

How it had even happened was a mystery to Nancy, perhaps the only one she'd never solve. Ned had always been her closest male friend and it only seemed natural, as they grew older, that he was her boyfriend, but that night he seemed so... needy, yet still so gentle and considerate. And then it was over almost before she even knew what had happened, Ned smiling while, in a mild state of shock, she pushed her dress back down over her knees in the front passenger seat of his car.

What was worse was how he started talking about how right they were for one another, about what a great wife she'd be for him and other things that sounded very permanent. Meanwhile, Nancy could only paste a smile on her face, utterly flattened by her first sexual experience and unable to even show her true feelings about it for fear of upsetting him. He suddenly seemed so relieved in some way. Relieved and... assuming.

That had been almost two weeks ago and Nancy had been avoiding him since then, speaking to him over the phone when she had to, but always finding some excuse to hang up after inventing a reason as to why she couldn't go out with him.

"Earth to Nancy Drew! Nancy, come in!" Bess's voice laughingly called over the phone, breaking the slender detective's frowning train of thought.

"Wh- uh, oh, I'm sorry," Nancy apologized, then lied with, "I was... just looking on the map for Cinder Bay."

"Well, I wondered," Bess remarked in her gay, carefree tone, something else about her friend that Nancy had noted the boys liked. "I could hear you breathing, but you weren't answering."

"Did your parents say you could come?" Nancy asked in an effort to get back on track.

"Yes, that's what I said," Bess replied. "So, where is it?"

"Where's what?"

"Cinder Bay?" Nancy's D-cup friend reminded with a jocular tone that Nancy and Bess's cousin, George Fayne, often used when poking fun at Bess's appetite.

"I didn't find it. I'll find it later."

" ... Are you alright, Nancy?"

"Yes, fine," Nancy replied, her manner back to what it was before thoughts of needy Ned had infiltrated her mind.

After telling Bess that she'd get back to her regarding their flight details, Nancy managed to get off the line to call George. George Fayne, a complete opposite of Bess, was tall, one inch taller than Nancy's five foot, nine inches, with an A-cup bra to Nancy's B. With her short, black hair, she loved adventure and often looked the tomboy she tended to be as compared to Bess's more careful, sometimes prissy demeanor. Of the two, Nancy, if pressed, would admit to the preference of George's company. George's mind wasn't preoccupied with boys as Bess's could sometimes be, and George's slender build didn't attract their attention like her cousin did either. Furthermore, Nancy could sense a sort of bond from George that she didn't sense from Bess. This subtle bond was one of loyalty and unquestioning reliability that a true detective's proper sidekick quite naturally ought to have.

"Nancy, you know I want to go," her pretty, nineteen year old friend declared in no uncertain terms. "Whatever is going on with Eloise's friend, Susan, we'll soon get to the bottom of it!"

"That's the spirit!" Nancy applauded. "I've already spoken to Bess, and she's coming too, if only for the lobster."

They both laughed at Nancy's little joke and, after holding the line while George received her parent's permission, they hung up so that Nancy could call Eloise back with the good news that both her friends would be joining them.

"Wonderful!" Aunt Eloise declared, a small amount of relief evident in her voice with the knowledge that now both Nancy and her team would be on the case. "I've already called the airline and found three seats available on a flight from River Heights to Bangor International Airport leaving at ten o'clock, tomorrow morning. I'll call back to confirm with them and to make sure you have a suitable rental car with directions to Cinder Bay waiting at the airport when you three land. Your tickets will be delivered tonight, and I'll make reservations at the same hotel where Susan is staying for the four of us."

"Will you be meeting us at Bangor International?" Nancy asked.

"No, I'm afraid not. I have a teacher's conference I must attend here in New York, so I'll have to meet you at the hotel in a few days. I'm sorry I couldn't go with you right away. I wanted to wait until I could, but I'm just so worried about Susan."

"It's all right, Aunt Eloise," Nancy assured. "Chances are, by the time you arrive, we'll have found out what's going on and the five of us can enjoy a nice vacation!"

Nancy's aunt expressed her hope that this would indeed turn out to be the case before they said their goodbyes and got off the phone.

The next morning, Carson Drew drove Nancy to Bess Marvin's home where they picked up her friend. With some surprise and embarrassment, Nancy couldn't help but notice her father taking an appreciative look at her friend when Bess ran down her front walk in excitement over the trip.

She wore a pair of snug fitting blue jeans with legs that ended halfway between her knees and her ankles and a pair of semi high heeled shoes that gave the girl a little more height. More inappropriate though, was the red plaid blouse, tucked in and unbuttoned far enough to almost expose Bess's cleavage. Her sunny smile and the ringlets she'd curled into her hair gave her a bouncy, flouncy flavour and, while there was nothing about her that looked outwardly indecent, Bess's body somehow managed to make her outfit imply as much.

He also seemed to like the hug and kiss on the cheek that Bess gave him a little too much before he stowed her suitcase in the trunk along with Nancy's. Nancy wondered if she shouldn't advise her friend on possibly strapping her big breasts tighter to her chest so they wouldn't bounce around so.

With a bright smile, George Fayne met them wearing a very nice, short sleeved green dress that buttoned up the front and ended just past her knees. It was much the same as Nancy's deep yellow dress with the floral print, as were the low heeled, sensible shoes on her feet.

After Mr. Drew loaded George's suitcase, (without any lingering glances at George's body) he took the three girls to the airport where they waved as they boarded the sleek jet that would take them to Bangor.

The flight was uneventful, Nancy's father's interest in Bess's body mostly forgotten as the three friends chatted. Nancy apologized for not having any information to share beyond the name of her aunt's presumably missing friend, withholding the fact that her preoccupation with what had happened between she and Ned had distracted her from getting further details from Eloise before she'd gotten off the phone with her.

True to her aunt's word, a blue Mustang convertible awaited them at the airport car rental, its white top already down on the hot, sunny July day. The Desk Attendant was very helpful in relating the needed directions to Cinder Bay, drawing out their route on the map which the rental agency had provided while surreptitiously trying to steal glances down the front of Bess's blouse. Nancy couldn't help but see how even George seemed to notice her cousin's attire, probably wondering, as Nancy did, why Bess didn't dress like her and Nancy.

At two-thirty-seven in the afternoon, they passed a small sign that read, Cinder Bay moments before the chip sealed road surface, worn to a smooth, bluish gray, broke from the trees and wound through a town on the Atlantic shore, its cold waves lapping the edge of the continent to their left. Contrary to Nancy's assumption of a fair sized town based on the fact that there was a hotel there, Cinder Bay wasn't just a small town, rather a micro-town. As they drove, they passed by a collection of low buildings on the right, starting with some residential homes that may or may not have been occupied. These gave way to public buildings, beginning with a small police station that looked as though it used to be another residential building, only the faded sign near the road attesting to its current purpose. Beside that was an old general store with a wide front porch, a set of ancient gas pumps and a sign that claimed a Sears mail order outlet could be found inside. After that came a white church with a pointed steeple and a need for a fresh coat of paint. Beside it stood a fair sized building, run down looking as all the rest were, with gray cedar shingles, a slightly sagging roofline and a sign that read, Annabelle's Boutique. Beside that was a dilapidated hardware store and then a dingy looking supermarket before the row of ramshackle structures finally turned back to gloomy looking residential buildings.

On the left was an ancient wharf made of dark, massive creosote timbers that reached about fifty yards out beyond the shoreline. Near its short, unpaved access road, several old fishing boats were beached in tall grass halfway between the water and the road, their paint bleached by the sun and peeling as they slowly rotted in the death beds to which they'd been long ago consigned. Some distance beyond this, another short, unpaved road served a causeway of large granite boulders, the foundation of a narrow, grassy footpath that led about one hundred yards out into the water. At the end of the causeway was a tall lighthouse, its white paint peeling away in hundreds of small patches like the paint on the old fishing boats to expose the weathered, gray wood beneath. Apart from it, there was only one other structure on the shoreline side of the town, if this tiny settlement could be called such. Between the access road to the wharf and the causeway that led to the lighthouse was easily and by far the largest building in town. Nancy had rolled to a stop on the road in front of it, her foot on the brake pedal as she, like Bess and George, stared up at the building as though it had mesmerized them.

It was five stories high, made of red bricks that looked like they'd been smoked black in some past fire, and loomed over the small, open topped Ford as though it was consciously trying to intimidate its three occupants. The dark gray, mansard roof that covered the fifth level made the structure seem brooding and even darker than the darkened windows did and an aged, indoor/outdoor, red carpet led up a set of blackish concrete steps to a tall set of double doors. The sign that hung from its wrought Iron, gallows-like post by the road identified the huge, dark old building for what it was, but Nancy somehow knew that she'd have correctly identified the structure as the Faldor Hotel even without that particular visual cue.

It was George, sitting beside Nancy in the front passenger seat, who finally broke the almost eerie mood that the building had presented, a mood that the warm, sunny day somehow only managed to add to.

"Well, I... I guess we're here..."

"Right," Nancy toned, removing her foot from the brake pedal a moment later and pulling into the small front driveway, unpaved like every other in the town.

Getting out of the shiny convertible, Nancy tore her eyes from the foreboding hotel to once again look around at the rest of the town. There were a total of three other vehicles within sight, one of them a Chevrolet truck that looked at least thirty years old with bare frame rails behind its beat up, flat black cab. It sat in front of the hardware store while a faded red Camaro sat in front of the boutique. A forest green Cordoba that looked like it had been painted with a roller sat in front of 'Ricki's Supermarket' with a flat front tire. From somewhere, the silvery tinkling sound of wind chimes could be heard in the cool breeze from the water amidst the sound of the gentle waves coming ashore. Apart from a few hanging signs that swung back and forth in that breeze, nothing moved and not another soul could be seen anywhere.

Save one.

"Oh my!" Bess let out in a small voice, paused in the act of hopping out of the backseat as she stared across the road.

A man stood staring at them from beside the church. He was dressed in filthy jeans, the cuffs of which were untidily tucked into the tops of a pair of grimy, untied work boots, an equally filthy green winter coat and a matching hat that sported earflaps. He was unshaven and looked as filthy as his clothes, his slack jaw hanging open as his penis streamed urine against the side of the sacred temple of God.

"Nancy...!" George uttered, also spying the human wreckage across the road. "That- that man is... peeing on the church!"

But Nancy was speechless, her father's words about how the people of Cinder Bay might be different from those of River Heights coming back as her mind locked to the local's long, thick penis. Alarmingly, as he grinned hungrily at the girls, it began to angle upwards, hardening to a state that took it from a tool meant for purging waste to one meant for-

"Quick, into the hotel!" she somehow managed in a voice that broke both her friends from their shocked stupor.

George came around the front of the car, looking at Nancy wide eyed and speechless while Bess finally hopped over the side of the Mustang, her breasts bouncing heavily in her blouse when her feet hit the dirt. As she came around the back of the car, Nancy vaguely wondered how she'd accomplished such a move in those heels without breaking one or turning an ankle. But she was distracted from this question by the giddy smile on her face, looking back at the man as she approached Nancy.

"Bess, don't look at him!" Nancy cautioned with a hiss as she grabbed her arm to hurry her into the Faldor.

"Well," Bess countered, still with her giddy smile, "if he's going to be standing out in public with his thingy hanging out, he sort of has to expect that people are going to-"

"That's not the point!" George supported. "We don't want to encourage him!"

Both Nancy and George looked at Bess sharply as her only reply to this was a giggle.

Inside the Faldor Hotel, their shock at seeing the exposed vagrant slowly melted as they looked around themselves. The Faldor's lobby boasted a high, coffered ceiling of rich mahogany beams with stylized, copper tiled insets. The walls themselves were of large mahogany panels interrupted at intervals by supporting beams, also mahogany paneled with copper trim lining each inset panel. A rust coloured, plush carpeting softened all the hard surfaces and added the perfect tone to the light from the large, crystal chandelier that hung from the ceiling. Well placed plant life added warmth to this environment, almost luring a person to recline on the antique furniture that accented the lobby's tastefully opulent character, ornately carved and upholstered in natural earth tones that complimented all the copper trim.

To the left were two tall, wide French doors. They were open and the room beyond was well lit and appeared to be a small library or sitting parlour with shelves of books. One person, a late middle aged, stocky but solid looking man sat reading in an overstuffed, deep green wingback chair. He looked up as they entered, watching with mild interest as the girls looked around themselves.

To the right was another set of tall, wide French doors, also open. Beyond these was a larger room, its darker décor, dim lighting and cloth covered tables suggestive of a dining room. Over the soft, relaxing music in the lobby, the sound of a man's deep, rich laughter could be heard from inside, followed by that of a woman's.