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The Secret in the Squeaky Springs	By : Lyra Category: M through R > Nancy Drew Series Views: 6515 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own the Nancy Drew and/or Hardy Boys series, nor any of the characters from them. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-The Secret in the Squeaky Springs
- 1
Disclaimer: Nancy Drew Mystery Books are the propery of PocketBooks and Simon and Schuster. I am not affiliated with them and am making no money from this piece.

SPECIAL WARNING: This warning has been added by request. Yes, the f/f couple is George and Bess, who are first cousins. Me, I don't consider that incest. Worldwide 1 out of 5 marriages is between (het) first cousins. The US is one of the few countries where it is banned (24 states) or restricted (7 states) and as many readers come from that culture, I am happy to respect that perspective and place this warning for them.

THE SECRET IN THE SQUEAKY SPRINGS: By Lyrastar Keene

1. The Haunted House

Nancy Drew, girl detective, pulled her royal blue Mustang into the driveway of her friend George Fayne's house. It was mid-December but the first snow had not yet stuck to the ground. Nancy and her two bosom buddies were all on Christmas break and determined to enjoy every minute.

"Hi, George!" Nancy waved out the window of the driver's seat.

George looked up from under the hood of a Buick. She'd just finished a tune-up. Her short brown curls were gelled to a wet look and, despite the chilly temperature, the sleeves of her black Ani Difranco T-shirt were rolled up to better display the fine muscles of her arms.

George tossed the spark plug wrench back into her toolbox and wiped her hands on a rag. "Hey, Nan," she waved back enthusiastically.

"Goodness!" Nancy looked her over in mild dismay. "George, you'll have to hurry. The brunch buffet only runs for another hour and we still have to pick up Bess."

"Nah, it's no biggie," George said airily. "My folks are out of town and Bess stayed here last night. She was taking a shower when I came down to work on Dad's car, so she should be ready by now."

"Oh," Nancy said. "It was sweet of Bess to keep you company like that. "

"Um, yeah. She's great that way," George agreed. "Lemme just go change." George bounded up the front steps and into the house.

In just a few minute George reemerged with Bess Marvin in tow. George had replaced the black T-shirt with a flannel camp shirt and a well-worn denim jacket. Bess wore an ankle-length earthtone dress, which complimented her wavy blonde hair, and a pair of thoroughly impractical high-heeled strappy sandals.

George opened the back door of the Mustang for Bess who slid in and arranged her skirt. "Good morning, Nan," Bess said and gave her an affectionate hug from behind.

"Hi, Bess. It sure was nice of you to stay with George last night. It can be spooky staying by yourself in a big house."

"Oh, it was fun," Bess said as George slid into the front passenger seat. "We always have a good time together."

"Um," George grunted in apparent agreement. She popped a CD into Nancy's player and Melissa Ethridge began wailing a lament about Maggie May.

Nancy peeled out of the driveway and drove off towards the restaurant. "So, where are your folks?" Nancy asked George.

"Back at our summer house at Black Rock. The groundskeeper said some strange things have been happening since they closed it for the season. They went to check it out."

Bess reached up from the back and tucked George's shirt tag back inside, giving the soft hairs on the back of her neck a sweet little caress in the process.

"What sort of strange happenings?" Nancy asked, her detective instincts piqued.

"Funny noises mostly. Things being moved around when no one's there. Lights flashing and moving around. Mr. Murray, the groundskeeper, thinks it's haunted.

"Haunted?" Bess squealed. "You didn't tell me that when we went up there! I never would have slept there if I knew that." George elbowed her backwards past the back of her seat.

"There must be another answer," said Nancy, too deeply lost in thought too pay much attention to her friends. "Why don't we go up there and check it out ourselves? Do you think your dad would mind?"

"No. They're not even there anymore," said George. "They were only staying overnight. They're leaving for Chicago this afternoon so Mom can do some Christmas shopping. They asked me to go, but shopping isn't really my thing. Now, if they were going to see the Bulls play--" George made a playful toss of an imaginary basketball.

"Perfect!" Nancy exclaimed. "Then we can have the place to ourselves to investigate."

Over the speakers Melissa sang, "I'm as blind as a fool can be. You stole my heart, but I love you anyway."

2. At the Restaurant

Nancy led the trio into the restaurant and looked around the room.

"Three for brunch?" the hostess asked.

"I don't know," Nancy said. She asked her friends, "Are Burt and Dave meeting us?"

"No," said George hastily. "They went to get haircuts. It's just us womyn today."

"What about Ned," Bess asked, referring to Nancy's impossibly handsome boyfriend. George made a face behind Nancy's back.

"Oh, Ned," Nancy sighed. "He's working overtime today. He says he wants to save up for our future."

"Oh, Nancy!" Bess squealed. "Are you--"

"No, no," Nancy hastened. "Nothing like that. Not yet." Her face took on a dreamy look. "Ned's just so responsible. He's always thinking ahead."

Just then a statuesque blonde in a pleather mini and a cloud of White Shoulders wiggled by on the way to the ladies' room. George hastily excused herself to wash her hands.

The waitress settled Nancy and Bess down at a table near the window and passed out menus.

"Mm! Belgian waffles." Bess licked her lips at the picture of the gooey entrée on the cover of the menu.

"I thought you were watching your figure," Nancy commented.

"Not anymore," said Bess happily shaking her cleavage. "George says I look good like I am."

"Of course you do, Bess," Nancy reassured. "And Dave?'

"Oh, pooh-pooh. Dave's just going to have to get used to it," said Bess as she ordered the waffles with extra whipped cream.

"What about you, George?" Nancy asked as George returned to plop herself down into the vacant seat.

"I think the tofu skillet. I don't eat meat any more."

"Ugh!" Bess wrinkled her nose.

"That's a very healthy choice," Nancy affirmed. Then she sniffed. White Shoulders.

"George, are you wearing perfume?"

George blushed. "Nah. Must be the table behind us. But about you and Ned--" George tried.

"Oh, Ned. He's everything a girl could ask for." Nancy's eyes grew starry. George coughed on her glass of water. Nancy forced herself to focus again. "But I would much rather hear about your haunted house."

"Ooh, don't put it that way," Bess shivered. "George and I stayed there by ourselves several times."

"It's not haunted, silly, just unexplained," George said.

"Mr. Murray says that he's heard squeaking and bumping noises when no one is there. Also he's seen lights flickering in the master bedroom."

"Oh," Bess shivered. "That's where we slept."

George suddenly shifted her Doc Martins under the table.

"Ouch!" Bess squalled. "That was my toe!"

George continued on, "Mom and Dad called this morning, though. They didn't see anything strange while they were up there. "

Nancy was lost in thought. "If we leave now, we could make it up there before dark."

"After dark is when most of the strange stuff seems to happen," said George.

"Oh, Nancy, do you have to investigate every mystery you find?" moaned Bess.

"Don't worry, honey; I'll protect you," said George as she gave Bess' hand a reassuring squeeze.

Nancy frowned, oblivious to the goings on around her. "George, do you have a key?"

"Sure," said George. "I know where my folks keep the spare." She snugged her ear cuff a little tighter down on her ear. Her pink triangle ring glittered in the sunlight with the motion.

"Then it's settled," announced Nancy. "We'll finish lunch, go home to pack our bags, and head off to Black Rock.

Just then the waitress arrived at the table. "Is one of you Nancy Drew?"

"I am," said Nancy, with a toss of her strawberry blonde hair.

"This message arrived for you," said the waitress as she passed Nancy an envelope. The outside was blank except for Nancy's name penned in thick, black ink. Nancy ripped open the flap. Printed in a crude hand, as if to disguise the writing, was an ominous note.

'Stay away from the Fayne house, if you know what's good for you.'

3. United in Trouble

Nancy gasped and read it to herself. She passed the note around the table. "What do you make of this?" Nancy beckoned the waitress back over.

"Oh, Nancy, we can't go now. It's an omen!" cried Bess.

"No, it's a challenge! Now we have to beat this creep at his own game," declared George.

The waitress arrived back at their table. "Yes, Miss?"

"Who left this note?" asked Nancy politely.

"I'm sorry, Miss, I didn't see. It was just sitting on my hostess station when I went back to it."

"I see," said Nancy, as the waitress resumed her duties. "The handwriting may be dreadful, but it is definitely concrete. I don't think we're dealing with ghosts. I'm going up to that house to check it out."

"I'm with you," said George stoutly.

"Then I guess I'm going too," said Bess with a resigned sigh. She rubbed George's thigh under the table.

Nancy's eyes were glued to the note. She studied the writing intently. Something about it had a tinge of familiarity, but she couldn't place it. Eventually she gave up. When she looked up again, Bess' hands were busy with her waffles.

The girls finished their meals in record time and hopped back in Nancy's Mustang, headed for the hills.

4. The Chain Saw Horror

Nancy sat in the front by herself. Bess sat behind her, in the back, doing her nails. "I still don't see why it has to be us," Bess complained. "Shouldn't this be a job for the police?"

"What can I tell them? That an old house is making funny noises? They'd laugh me out of the county," said George sitting with her legs splayed on the seat beside Bess.

"Still too scratchy. Cut those a bit shorter," said George as she ran her fingertips over Bess' nails. "At least the ones on your right hand."

"Okay," Bess giggled and pulled the nippers back out of her purse.

The sun was sinking below the tree line and the light was beginning to dwindle. "It's almost the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year," observed George as she stared out the window.

"And the longest night," Bess peeped up. "More time for snuggling on that big leather sofa in front of the fire and drinking herbal tea with someone special." She slid a little closer to George on the bench seat.

"It's a lot more than that, " said George. "The harvest cycle ties us all to the earth. It has a great deal of spiritual significance. In fact, I think I am going to convert to Wiccan."

"Ooh, womyn dancing naked in the moonlight!" exclaimed Bess. "Can I come? I'd love to see you doing that."

"Of course you can come, but there's no observers allowed; you'd have to participate."

"Naturally!" giggled Bess.

Nancy laughed casually. "Oh, you two crack me up!"

In a short time Nancy pulled into the long drive leading up to the Fayne's summerhouse. "Let's check out the grounds before it gets too dark," said Nancy.

The girls hopped out of the car. George opened the door for Bess and chivalrously passed her her purse from the seat. George gave Bess' butt a little rub as Bess smoothed her skirt and straightened to a stand beside the car door.

Bess giggled.

"It sure is pretty up here," observed Nancy gazing into the woods.

"Yes," agreed George, taking her hand away from Bess' backside. My parents come up here whenever they can. It's a great place to come for privacy. And maybe to recapture a little romance."

Bess giggled.

"What's through there?" Nancy asked, focusing all of her concentration on a blurry structure just visible through the barren trees. "

"That's Mr. Blanchette's house. He's our nearest neighbor," said George as she put her arm around Bess' waist to hustle her up the path to the summerhouse. The dead leaves crunched under their feet on the flagstones.

"What does he do?" asked Nancy, heading in the direction of the shadowy building instead.

"I don't know," said George. "We never really talked to him much."

"Well, maybe it's time to start," said Nancy, heading off through the trees.

Then she stopped in her tracks. From deep in the woods, a man was running towards her at full speed with a chain saw in his hands!

5. Meeting the Ghost

Bess shrieked and covered her eyes.

George charged him. "Hey, you!"

The man stopped. "George Fayne?"

"Mr. Murray!" exclaimed George, in evident relief.

"Why, you've grown into quite the young woman since I saw you last."

"Yeah, I suppose," George agreed grudgingly. "But what are you doing with that chain saw?"

"I was cutting down some dead limbs when it conked out on me," said Mr. Murray. "I was going to go back to the shed and see if I could get it working before it got too dark."

"Let me see. Those two-cycle engines can be pretty finicky," said George as she took it from him. She adjusted something inside the motor case and pulled the starter. It fired right up.

"There you go," George said, handing it back to him.

"Thanks," said Mr. Murray. "You're pretty handy with power tools, George. Your dad must be proud."

George blushed. "I guess," she said.

"Mr. Murray," asked Nancy, "what can you tell us about the goings-on in the house?"

"Nothing that I haven't already told the Faynes," he said. "There are squeaks and banging noises from inside. Sometimes objects get moved from where they were last when no one has been in there."

"Are you sure no one is there?" asked Nancy.

"Oh yes. The Faynes always tell me when they're coming up and they and I have the only other keys."

George patted her front pocket reflexively.

"Okay, thank you Mr. Murray," said Nancy. The girls headed back towards the summerhouse. Stopping at the car, Nancy picked up her weekend case. George plucked both of Bess' suitcases out of the car and tossed her own little backpack over her shoulder. As they turned the key in the front door, they heard scraping noises from inside!

6. Settling In

"What was that?" exclaimed Nancy as she tore through the darkened halls. But everything was now quiet and still.

George plopped down the suitcases. "That's the mystery, I guess."

"Well, at least there is something here," said Nancy. "I would have hated to come all this way and find out it was just the wind."

"When George brought me up here by ourselves--" Bess started. "Ouch!" Bess shifted her right foot away from George's Doc Martin.

George changed the subject. "Well, you're the detective; what's the plan?" George asked Nancy.

"I guess we settle in for the night and wait to see what happens," said Nancy.

"Okay, Bess and I can take the master with the big bed. You can have my old room," said George as she moved their bags over to the king sized bed.

"Thanks! That make's sense," said Nancy as she pushed open the door to the smaller room down the hall.

Nancy turned on the light and planted her little valise on the bed. On the walls were posters of Martina Navratilova, k.d. lang, Audre Lorde, Gertrude Stein, Lily Tomlin and the Indigo Girls. Nancy admired her friend's eclectic taste in heroes.

Nancy poked around for clues but found only the expected remnants of childhood--old clothes, athletic trophies, sport balls, Girl Scout badges. Then Nancy began looking in more unusual places, under the bed, behind the furniture, under the rug.

George opened the door to her old room. She'd changed into an oversized lavender covered in musical notes. It read, 'Don we now our gay apparel.'

George started, "Hey, Nan--"

"George, what's this?" Nancy asked as she pushed a stash of magazines from under the rug under the bed and across the hardwood floor.

George blushed. "Those Playboys? Uh...my dad asked me to keep them for him. You see, he was afraid my mom would get mad if she knew he had them, so one day he brought them up here and--"

"No, no," Nancy said impatiently. "Not those, this!" She held up an old fashioned key.

George studied it curiously. "I don't know. I've never seen it before."

Nancy slipped it into her pocket. "A key without a lock is like an answer without a riddle. But I'll bet it has something to do with this mystery."

"Maybe," said George dubiously. "Do you mind if I take those magazines?" George shuffled awkwardly.

"Huh? No. I'm sure your dad would want it that way," said the ace detective absently as she studied the key. "This looks like it might fit a padlock."

"Could be," said George as she gathered up the glossy magazines. "Bess and I are going to bed now. "

"Okay, " said Nancy. She was already busy trying to fit the key to the closet and the bedroom door, but it wasn't even close.

In one spot the floorboards made an eerie creaking sound as George and the magazines padded off back to the master bedroom.

7. The Secret Passage

Several hours later, Nancy awakened to a noise. She dashed down the hall to the other bedroom, in the direction of the noise, but found the door locked.

"George! Bess!" Nancy rasped in a harsh whisper as she jiggled the knob.

The squeaking stopped. George opened the door in a frilly red-and-white Mrs. Claus nightie looking quite distracted. Her hair was mussed and her face was flushed

"Did you hear that?" asked Nancy.

"Hear what?" said George.

"I hear a buzzing or a humming and some strange squeaking sounds," explained Nancy.

Bess squealed and pulled the covers higher up over her bare shoulders. The bedsprings creaked and she readjusted herself. "We didn't hear anything," she said.

Nancy looked at George critically. George blushed. "This is Bess'," George said gesturing at the flimsy frock she wore. "I got dressed in a hurry when you knocked and must have picked up the wrong thing." George pointed to the floor where her T-shirt lay crumpled by the side of the bed.

Bess giggled and wiggled farther under the sheets. The bedsprings creaked again.

"Actually, I was looking at your makeup," said Nancy. "You have lipstick smeared all over your face. When did you start wearing makeup?"

George dragged the back of her hand across her mouth. "Bess was giving me make-up lessons," she said.

Bess giggled.

Nancy smiled. "Burt will love it! He's always hinting for you keep more lady like stuff around," said Nancy. She frowned, "But it's really not your color; it's too light for you."

"It's mine," Bess chirped up. "Purely Pink."

Nancy glanced over at Bess. Her make-up was badly smeared as well, but the Purely Pink color was unmistakable. "So it is. But, Bess, your colors are too fair for George--and it's not put on very well. Maybe you need more light to work in," said Nancy helpfully, noting the scented candles lit around the bed.

"Now, about that squeaking--" Nancy began to poke around the room.

George tried to intercept her. "I really don't think it came from in here. We would have heard it otherwise."

Nancy followed a cord up from the wall where it ended under the bedclothes. "Could this be it?" she asked, holding up a tubular device.

Bess giggled.

"No, that's just my Personal Sports Body Massager for sore muscles. It doesn't squeak," said George, nervously eyeing the item in Nancy's hand.

"Nope, not at all," confirmed Bess. Bess grabbed the massager away from Nancy and hit a switch. It began to vibrate violently in her grip. "See?"

"You're right; that wasn't it at all," said Nancy. "But I still think the sound came from in here. Maybe with the massager turned on, you wouldn't have heard the squeaking."

"Could be," agreed Bess. She turned off the Body Massager and fell back onto the pillows. The bedsprings squawked with her movements.

"Maybe in here." Nancy opened the closet door. George's knapsack sat on the floor and Nancy pushed it aside. Something fell out. "George, what's this?" Nancy exclaimed holding up two twelve inch objects.

George blushed. "Uh...those are my anatomical models for class. This week we're studying male genitalia."

"Very lifelike," commented Nancy.

"I wouldn't know," said George.

"Yes," chirped in Bess. "And the pink one gets warm when you handle it too."

George shot her a dirty look.

"But what's this?" asked Nancy, her voice rising in evident interest.

"What?" asked George coming over to look.

Nancy gestured excitedly to a faint outline on the floor. "It looks like a trap door!"

8. The Secret Beneath the Stairs

"Oh," squealed Bess. "A trap door!" She wrapped a bedsheet around herself and padded over to the closet to look.

"Let's see where it goes," said Nancy, tilting the panel up.

George whipped a Maglight out of her backpack and pointed it down the hole. A set of stairs lead down into the blackness.

Nancy started down the steps as George continued to light the way. Together Bess and George stepped into the closet and followed Nancy down into the unknown.

The stairs led down to a corridor, which continued for twenty yards or so before it dead-ended at a metal door. Nancy twisted the knob but it wouldn't budge. Locked.

With a triumphant flourish, Nancy pulled the brass key from her pocket and inserted it in the lock. The door opened with a click.

George waved her Maglight around in the gloom. A giant machine stood in the middle of the room. Sheets of twenty-dollar bills were strung around the ceiling.

"A counterfeiting operation!" exclaimed George.

"But who?" said Nancy as she continued to peer around. At the far side of the room was another metal door. Nancy pulled the handle to find a man standing in the doorway wielding a heavy crescent wrench!

9. Some Answers

"I told you silly girls to stay away," the man growled and leapt across the room to grab Bess by the neck. "Now, if any of you try anything, I'll take her out," he said, menacing Bess with the wrench.

"Not my Bess you don't!" exclaimed George and threw herself at the man's knees. She brought him down in a flying tackle and the wrench skittered across the floor. The flimsy nightie flew up around her waist and she tugged it down violently. A pair of men's jockeys were briefly visible underneath.

Nancy locked the man's hands behind his back with a pair of handcuffs she had taken from her belt.

Bess ran into George's arms, the sheet dragging half on and half off of her body. She squealed, "Oh, George, you saved me!" She gave her a big kiss on the lips.

George broke away. "Why, that's Mr. Blanchette!" she exclaimed shining the flashlight over Bess' shoulder and into the man's face. "That tunnel leads toward his land. He must have put his illegal operation on my parents property to protect himself in case of discovery!"

"And I would have gotten away with it if it weren't for you meddling kids," the man growled from his position on the floor.

"So, you had to come up through the Fayne's house to turn on the water and electricity for your operation," mused Nancy. "That explains the lights. And I suppose the printing press made the bumping and squeaking noises."

"The tunnel was supposed to be soundproof," Mr. Blanchette grumbled. "I thought it was. How was I to know anyone could hear?"

"Well, you should be more discreet if you don't want to get caught at something," swaggered George.

"Come on, Bess. Let's go call the cops. I think they'll be very interested now. "

Bess gathered her sheet around her and they headed upstairs together, leaving the ace detective alone with her victory. Once in the bedroom George dialed the phone and got the sheriff headed out on his way.

Bess threw herself back down on the queen-sized bed with a thud. George joined her and shortly the bedsprings began to squeak again in rhythm.
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The Secret in the Squeaky Springs