Gone: A Nancy Drew and The Hardy Boys Mystery

2. Nancy

"I think I got it, but just in case...tell me the whole thing over again; I wasn't listening."

I sigh. What are ten-minute lectures for, if the lecturee is not listening to the lecturer?

"Okay, listen up," I command. I give the rundown once more as fast as I possibly can, know full well that she will just badger me with questions later even if I tell her every little detail. "Dr. Habbernathy has agreed to throw the 132nd annual Eleanore Iannaccone ball this year in honor of his late wife's birthday. But this man - the one who has been on a crime spree in River Heights all week - Dennis "Dion" Gorgo is going to try to kill everybody at the ball. I don't know if he is planning arson, poison, a bomb, but he is going to kill hundreds.

"And Nancy Drew decided to make it her personal mission to stop this from happening," George grins.

"So Nan, we're going to a ball? Like a dancing ball?" Bess squeals happily, clapping her hands like an excited toddler.

"Yes, I already scheduled us to drive to Indiana and get our hair, face, and nails done and then we will head to a dress shop where I rented us dresses and shoes." I glance at Bess. "And I already had them picked out so, no, we are not spending hours trying on clothes."

"Eeeeeck," Bess screamed. "I am going to a ball! Nance, you have made my day! My week! My month! My year!"

Did I mention how dramatic Bess is?

"Yeah, she mad mine too. The worst!" George grumbles.

"Come on, George. It can't be that bad," I cheer, trying to stifle a laugh. These cousins truly were opposites.

^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^

"Wow, this is me?" I breathe.

The girls and I had arrived in Indiana and were dressed and prepared for the ball. And I am feeling exactly how Cinderella must have felt. I glanced once again in the rearview mirror and didn't recognize myself, which I suppose was the point but it still didn't sit well with me. I was wearing a beautiful blue-green dress with crisscrossing fabric on the chest. I had these silver heels that made my feet look beautiful, but also made it hard to walk. But the amazing part was my hair. My plain strawberry blonde locks were curled and pinned and twisted and braided into an elegant hairstyle. My face was covered in soft make-up and it was so perfect that you could even see the zit I popped this morning. My chipped and chewed nails are covered in beautiful peaches and cream polish. I pretty much was as close to looking like a princess as I ever was going to and at the same time I was perfectly undercover.

George looked like she was finally living up to her name as the belle of the ball. She wore a deep emerald mermaid dress that perfectly fitted her form and simple pearl necklace. Her hair was curled so that her hair didn't even hit her neck and the tiny locks were held back by a matching pearl headband.

Bess, however, looked magnificent. She is so gorgeous that any guy would drop-dead the second they saw her. Which is perfect because can be the distraction if we need one. She is wearing a pink princess evening gown with a full bloom bottom and little white flowers blooming and sparkling on the top. Her hair was magically curled and looked one hundred times prettier than George or me's hair and her bangs were picked back like mine.

Our car stopped outside a huge, golden, beautiful mansion. When I stepped out I could see the ballroom that people were entering. As we followed everyone up the exterior stairs and presented our invitations that George forged, I admired the ballroom. White floors that looked like they danced under ladies skirt, golden brown walls that made the room seems bigger than it truly was, a huge, luxurious staircase that branched upward from the far side of the room and an elegant balcony surrounding an intricate, ginormous chandelier.