Archive of Our Own

"Ugh, he's Ned's friend?! I thought you said he was your friend! Nancy, this is going to be so painfully awkward. I'm gonna go in there and be like... hello, I'm the friend of your sort-of friend's girlfriend, so basically, there was absolutely no reason for us to meet."

"Bess, you'll be fine! Just relax, go in there, tell him that I'm sorry I couldn't be there myself, and make sure he's all right."

She sighs, hoping for Nancy's conscience to change her mind at the last moment. "I just really think it should be you doing this."

"I know, and I'm sorry that my flight's delayed, but I promise you that they're not going to work any faster even if I beg."

Another sigh, this one heavier than the last. "I just thought it was worth trying."

"I know."

"I also thought that we should fly out of Chicago together, but noooo."

As if intent on mocking her, an airport announcement sounds out in the background. "I know it's annoying, Bess, but I promise I'll be there as soon as I can and then we can hit the town together and do all the shopping you want."

Her eyes narrow. That's a pretty big favor for Nancy to be offering. Just how much does Ned care about this Henry guy?

"Be careful there, Drew, you don't know what you're offering... then again, I'm pretty sure it'll depend on whether or not the weather lets up... because let me tell you, it is pouring-- oh, hold on, the cab just stopped..." Bess grabs some money out of her purse to pay the cab fare and eyes the outside a bit apprehensively. She has no idea how she's going to get out of this car without getting wet.

Grabbing her handbag, Bess lets out a small whine before she finally opens the door and holds her umbrella out to unfurl it.

When she steps out of the car-- umbrella in her left hand, cell phone in her right, handbag pinned tightly under her arm-- she quickly finds that she's lucky to have been wearing a dress. The rainwater is already reaching her ankles, Bess kicking the car door shut somewhat awkwardly before she turns to look to the house again.

"Ugh, Nancy, there is way too much rain here and this place looks really creepy. Also, I think I just flashed the cab driver my panties, but whatcha gonna do."

No response.

"Nancy?" Stopping in her tracks, she looks down at her phone to press speed dial for Nancy again.

Straight to voicemail. No reception.

"Ugh, rats," Bess mutters under her breath as she tosses her phone back into her handbag, the water rushing less-than-pleasantly around her ankles.

"Great. Now I can't even stay on the phone with Nancy to try and distract myself from the fact that I'm probably about to die any moment now…" Bess groans, walking up to the door to knock.

Nothing.

She tries the doorbell, which doesn't work, and then the door knocker, which is similarly fruitless… at least until she notices the fact that the door is unlatched and technically... open.

She considers calling Nancy just to ask her if this sort of thing is legal, just entering someone's home because the door was slightly ajar-- oh god, what if she has the wrong house???-- but she doesn't, and not only because she doesn't have the reception necessary to call Nancy.

Although that really might be the vast majority of it, Bess biting her lip as she slowly pushes the door open.

Then again, Nancy would probably just tell her to do it, to blindly cast out her anxiety in the face of logic and break into someone's house, and she's not too keen on another conversation like that. Nancy just doesn't get what it's like to be her.

"... hello? Anyone home...? The door was open..."

The strange-looking, almost eerie silhouette of a man in the sitting room is something she doesn't exactly expect upon letting herself in, if only because, well, why didn't he answer? Why wouldn't he have heard her knocking on the door with the knocker… several times?

"Uh… hello? My name's Bess Marvin, I'm here--"

The thunder that resounds above them is enough to momentarily stop her, Bess' eyes going wide as the whole place seems to go dark all at once.

"Oh, um-- if this is a bad time, really, I can--"

The brief moment of illumination permitted by the flash of lightning outside is just enough for her to see the man up close and personal, Bess emitting a sharp squeak of terror.

He looks like one of the many skeleton pirates she remembers seeing in Pirates of the Caribbean, and Bess makes a mental note to herself to never wish to be Elizabeth Swann ever again.

She starts to back up-- slow, steady-- only for the strange man to throw a handful of powder into her face, Bess' world quickly going dark as she collapses on the ground.

The first realization that seems to hit her upon waking is that it is… still astonishingly dark. But there are, nevertheless, some marked changes. The soft surface beneath her would appear to be the most notable, Bess trying to blink the sleep out of her eyes, the dizziness that seems to linger even now.

There's a-- glass?-- being shoved in her face, Bess' eyes widening somewhat at the sight of the strange, suspect green liquid.

"Here, drink this."

Little by little, the rest of the image seems to make itself visible, Bess taking note of the woman behind the glass before pulling a face.

"Uh… what? W-wha-- why? Wha's it gonna do to me?" Catching herself slurring her words somewhat, Bess squeezes her eyes shut, shaking her head as if to clear it of cobwebs.

"Something that'll make you feel better. Drink it. Just a couple of sips."

She blinks. "Uh..."

"Would you stop trying to poison her?" The voice shouldn't have surprised her, but it does, Bess turning to look at its origin. "She's been through enough already; the last thing she needs on top of that is a trip to the emergency room."

The woman looks more than a little annoyed, Bess glancing back and forth between the two of them.

"You just go back to your phone call and leave us be." The woman turns back to Bess. "Don't pay him any mind."

"Uh, I'm… sorry. I must have missed a memo. What exactly happened? Where am I?"

"You're at Henry Bolet's house, dear. In the library. He carried you in here after I found you unconscious in the foyer."

Something hiccups in her brain.

"He… carried me?"

The woman must not have heard her, Bess' gaze still trained on Henry as she keeps talking.

"What happened? Can you remember?"

"Uh." Bess forces herself out of her half-daydream, blinking as she looks back at the woman still holding the suspicious green liquid. God, now that she's feeling more awake, that does not look appetizing. "Well, uh. I came here because my friend Nancy couldn't make it because of flight delays… which… I guess makes sense… with the weather being what it is, and all… anyway, she was going to come because her boyfriend knows Henry because they go to Emerson together, and so… I came here… instead. Because I'm already here. Um-- I'm-- I mean, we're from River Heights. That's… near Chicago. Sorry. Forgot to mention that. I'm not like from around here."

Shit. She's rambling.

"Sorry… my brain's still pretty scattered from that stuff that was… poofed in my face… right. So. I came up the steps and rang the doorbell, which didn't work, and knocked several times, and there was no answer at all… but then the door sort of opened on its own? So even though it felt really creepy and weird, I walked in like a total creep… sorry, just now realizing how weird that is… and then the lights went out. But not before I saw this… person. And then there was this, like, flash of lightning that let me see for like three seconds… and that guy was like this close to my face," she gestures with thumb and forefinger, doing her best to impress upon everyone just how serious of a situation this was, "and it was like out of that first Pirates movie where they turned into skeletons at night when the moon hit them, except here it was the lightning--"

She clears her throat, reeling herself back in to reality. "Uh, right. So, I stagger, he throws this… stuff at my face, and I pass out. And then I wake up here. And I assume-- I mean, I hope, anyway-- that you know the rest of the story."

"You saw a skeleton?"

"Uh, yes. Isn't that what I said? Listen, it was terrifying." Why all this skepticism? Bess purses her lips, the older woman eyeing her strangely. She doesn't care for that look. Not one bit.

"Well… all right. What did you say your name was?"

"Um. I didn't. It's Bess. Bess Marvin. I mean-- technically it's Elizabeth Marvin, but no one calls me that. Everyone just calls me Bess."

"I'm Renée Amande. I'm Bruno Bolet's housekeeper. That is, I was. This... skeleton that attacked you-- perhaps we should call the police."

"No!" Henry's voice startles Bess out of her reverie, and she turns to look at him again from where he's most definitely facing away from them. "No emergency room, no police. Things are complicated enough as it is."

"Henry's feeling a might overwhelmed," Renée explains, leaving Bess to wonder what has him so overwhelmed in the first place. "Well. You are looking much better, so I'm gonna get back to my plant potting. You need anything, I'll be outside in the garden."

Bess doesn't doubt for one second she's looking better. She is, after all, in her element. Boy Scouting.

"I should call them and put them on hold for four hours and see how they like it…"

"I'm… sorry you're feeling overwhelmed," Bess starts, turning to look at him, heel tucked under herself. "I'm sure me passing out on you can't possibly have helped anything."

Henry doesn't seem to hesitate to turn to look at her, Bess offering him a small, if somewhat apologetic smile as he offers a noncommittal shrug in return. "It's not like you could have helped it."

Christ, this is not good. He's cute. Almost to the point of it being unfair.

"Well, I mean, I guess I could have... not come here, but… well... never mind."

"So… Bess, right? How do you know Ned?"

"Just… through Nancy. I told her that she should have been the one to do this, but… like I said, she's stuck, so it's… unfortunately just me."

"Not sure what's so unfortunate about it. Just seems like you went out of your way to be nice."

Bess feels herself flush a bright shade of red. "Yeah, well, that's me… I'm just… really nice, I guess. How, um. How do you know Ned?"

"I really don't know him that well, just from school. We were in an English class together this last semester. Shakespeare. Ned's a nice guy. When I mentioned that my only living relative died, he was all like 'Yeah? How ya feeling, man? You doing okay? Wanna talk?' 'Course, I guess I do come across as a little... needy sometimes."

Somewhere far, far away, her throat seems to run dry.

"Your… only… living relative… just died…?"

This is so damn sad.

Henry shrugs again, though the look in his eyes make him seem more forlorn than anything else, almost like a lost puppy. She's pretty sure she could melt right then and there. "My parents died in a car crash when I was eight. Other than Uncle Bruno, I don't-- or, rather, I guess, I didn't-- have any other relatives left."

"That must have been so hard. Was he at least a decent parent?"

He shakes his head. "Not really. He may've looked after me, but he never spent any time with me. I didn't know him at all. Every chance he got he'd just send me off to another school. First it was boarding school, then summer camps every summer, military school, college. None of them make for particularly fond memories."

"If… this is painful to talk about, we can totally change the topic. I didn't mean to bring up a sore subject."

"I don't mind."

Ah, well. Straight to the point, then.

"I'm actually kind of surprised you made it here, to tell you the truth."

"You… you expected me to just not come see you? Just because of a little rain?"

Her earlier trepidation has long left the room, if not the whole district. Anything that might have suggested reluctance on her part is promptly broomed under the nearest carpet.

"I don't know if I would call this a little rain. But yeah. You're more than welcome to call the cab company that brought you here and check, but I'm pretty sure it affects everyone."

"... wait. What do you mean?"

"The person at the bank told me earlier… right before putting me on hold for two hours. From the sounds of it, lightning must have struck a transformer somewhere, so we're out of power."

"That… does explain the general… Addams family look you got going here."

"I don't know why everyone is freaking out; it's not like this amount of rain isn't something we see regularly here. Anyway. Long story short, you won't be able to get a cab because everyone's in a mad panic about the big storm blowing in."

"... oh."

"Sorry," he acknowledges softly; more softly than she expected. "Don't worry; we got plenty of food here, beds, candles-- you're welcome to stay."

She's not sure if it's obvious in the candlelight-- she's not even sure if she'd want it to be or not-- but Bess flushes a brilliant shade of pink. Spending the night at a boy's house. Not… in a romantic fashion, but… still. Quite the red letter… event.

"Well, thank you. I appreciate it. It was going to be either that or closing my eyes and hoping for the best while the rainwater floated me through the flooded streets of New Orleans. I gotta tell you, I vastly prefer this option." Bess clears her throat, her expression almost sheepish. "You, uh. You look pretty busy."

"Great-uncle Bruno named me executor of his estate. Which means I have to make sure all his bills are paid and debts taken care of so his assets can be distributed. Unfortunately, he couldn't have cared less about little things like keeping records or balancing checkbooks. Dealing with his creditors and their lawyers has been an absolute nightmare."

"I'll bet. I don't think I could really… I mean, this kind of thing has never been my forte, or I would have offered to earn my keep."

Christ. Could she be any more of a spazz? Then again… most of the time guys seem to flirt back by this point. Henry just seems to complain. So either he's just super busy, totally oblivious, has a girlfriend, or doesn't find her pretty.

The latter two are her least favorite options.

"Well, um, I'll be going then! I mean-- out of the room. Not… the house. Right. That was probably intuitive."

"Groovy."

For a split second, she stares at him somewhat dumbfoundedly. Where is he from, the 80s? Who still says groovy?

Grabbing her purse, she scurries out of the library, Bess letting a soft whimpering sound escape her upon the door's closing.

"Okay. Calling Nancy, calling Nancy… hoping for the best with reception…"

"Bess?"

"Oh, Nancy! Thank god!"

"Is everything all right? I was assuming we got cut off because of the weather… how's Henry?"

"No, we totally did-- and then all the power went out and it's sort of like I'm in a creepy gothic mansion. Like… very Brontë sisters, you know? Any moment now I'll start hearing people whispering Caaaaathyyyy and Heeeeathcliffeeee…"

"Bess? Henry?"

"Oh! Right. Uh. Painfully cute."

"That's… surprising."

"Well, I'm not talking about my usual kind of cute. I mean, he sort of… I don't know how to explain it. But he's kind of bringing every deeply repressed bad boy fantasy I've ever had to life? Like, Nan, he wears nail polish. Black nail polish." Okay, so she might be thinking of them doing their nails together, or each other's nails, but so what? "He has what I think is… one… fishnet stocking on his forearm… I dunno. He's even got a tattoo! He's… also dressed sort of like a waiter at a very expensive restaurant, but… anyway. How are you?"

"Well, you sure are right about him not fitting your usual M.O. Do you have any idea what could have caused it?"

"He, uh, might've… carried me. In here."

"Woah, Bess, did you just say he carried you?"

Bess presses her lips together, her voice dropping several octaves more. "I… might've. Might not've."

"What happened that he had reason to carry you at all?"

"I… might've passed out in the foyer."

"Bess!"

"Okay, okay! I'll elaborate! Sheesh. So pushy. Anyway. After I lost connection with you, I walked-- well, waded is more like it-- up to the door and rang the doorbell. Knocked on the door. No answer. But then the door kinda just started opening… so I walked in, and, uh, I might be telling this out of order."

"That's fine, Bess."

She clears her throat. "Well, all the lights went out, and I saw this guy… you remember what they look like in the moonlight, right? In the first Pirates movie?"

"Yeah?"

"That's what this guy looked like. So I try--"

"Woooah there, Bess. You saw a skeleton?"

"A pirate skeleton, yes. It was terrifying, so obviously I tried to get away, but then he threw this powder in my face that made me pass out. And then I got carried into the library like something straight out of Beauty and the Beast where I'm--"

"And you're sure you saw a skeleton."

"Well, yeah, but that's not the important part of this that you're supposed to be paying attention to!”

"I know, I know, you were carried and he's cute, but you also have a mystery on your hands!"

It really is a shame that Nancy isn’t here to see her emphatic gestures of incredulity and exasperation.

"Nancy, the single most romantic thing that's ever happened to me just happened and I was unconscious for it! Sorry if I'm a little less than invested in a mystery I won't be solving!"

"But Bess, you have all the reason in the world to investigate because you were attacked! Don't you want to know who attacked you?"

Classic Nancy logic. Which is to say very wise but also very terrible for ten out of ten Besses.

"Uh, no? No. Nope. Yeah, we're gonna go with no on this one. Kinda just wanna forget I ever interacted with something dead, which is apparently a thing that can actually happen in New Orleans!!"

"I'm sure there's a rational explanation for it."

"Nancy, I am not gonna snoop! I'm no good at this stuff like you are! I get nervous and then my palms get sweaty and--" She lets out a low, drawn-out groan to serve as her last point.

"Look, Bess, I'm not asking you to snoop a lot! Just enough so that I can start taking notes and putting some thoughts together. You can call me anytime, I can guide you… it'll be fine, I promise."

Easy for her to say. She’s used to almost dying all the time.

"Can't we just wait until you get here?"

"No, Bess! This is supposed to be a vacation. I may be stuck here for now, but as soon as the weather lets up down where you are, I should be able to get a flight out no problem. And then I promised you that we'd go shopping. Besides," she continues before Bess can come up with more reasons for why this is a terrible idea (and it truly is), "we already have our room booked, so we might as well enjoy it while we're there."

"How dare you use shopping against me!" Bess sighs in blatant annoyance. "Fine. I guess I don't really have a lot to lose. I mean, other than favor with this really cute guy, but whatever… it's not like I could leave even if I wanted to. If I get caught doing anything suspect, that could only get really awkward…"

"What do you mean you can't leave?"

"You're not the only one affected by this storm, you know! Cab service around this entire city is shut down, Nan. Even if your plane left and you got here… you'd just be stuck hanging out at yet another airport."

"Greaaaat."

"Welcome to my life, where unexpected overnight stays at the houses of cute boys are interrupted by skeletons and mysteries and snooping!"

"Oh, Bess, stop moping. You'll be fine."

"Easy for you to say. You do this kind of thing all the time." Heaving another great sigh, Bess closes her eyes. "Okay. I'll call again soon. Probably sooner than you were hoping."

"No such thing as too soon in this instance. Waiting around at the airport isn't exactly thrilling."

"Fair point. Okay. I'm hanging up now."

Following another disgruntled sigh, Bess glares at her phone. She should probably have just not told Nancy in the first place and just avoided the whole thing altogether, but nooo, that would have been way too convenient.

Instead, now she gets to go snoop.

An hour or so later, Bess has made a few discoveries, but nothing too grandiose. An empty frame, a tracing, a mostly burned receipt, a bunch of creepy stuff… and more than a few glass eyes.

"Uh," she hears herself say after a moment, Bess swallowing thickly. "Is that… thing… a lizard?"

"Oh, right. Sorry, I probably should have warned you. It's an iguana. Iggy. Uncle Bruno was into exotic pets. Didn't believe in cages, so he gave 'em the run of the place."

"But it's not like it's… poisonous, right?"

"Oh, no. Iggy's harmless. Just likes to steal paper."

"Oh, gosh, phew! For a moment there I thought-- eek--!"

As Iggy scampers away, he sends a whole host of books sailing to the ground with him, one of them hitting Bess' head on the way.

"Oh no…"

"Are you okay?"

Feeling her head for cartoon-esque lumps or blood, she sighs, moving to kneel to start picking up his books. "Yeah… I'm sure I'm fine… I'm sorry he knocked your books over. I'll put them back."

"No, no, wait, here--"

She doesn't expect him to actually get up, Henry crouching down beside her to help her get them together.

"It's not like you could have known," he mutters as Bess starts to put the books back in their case.

"Thanks," she tells him with a smile, her hand accidentally brushing up against his as she moves to replace one of them herself, her cheeks coloring somewhat at the feeling. But the moment is gone before she gets so much as a chance to blink, Henry already back at his desk as Bess stares rather wistfully at the books before her. Couldn't they have been harder to put away? She's almost tempted to scatter them all over again.

"No," she says with no small amount of finality as she stares at the front door before her, eyes narrowed distinctly as Nancy insists a third time.

"Bess, come on! So what if it's raining-- I'm sure there's a bathroom you can dry off in later! Besides, I'm dying for you to keep snooping around, and going outside into the rain is clearly the next step!"

Bess emits a low grumble, a sound that probably already spells victory for Nancy, just waiting to pounce on her agreeing to do this ridiculous thing when what she should be doing right now is sitting in the library, chatting up Henry, and looking damn good doing it.

Not getting herself drenched.

And yet, here they are.

"Fine," she finally says, the word leaving her sounding begrudging at best. "But you owe me, Nancy Drew. You owe me big!"

She hangs up following several hollow platitudes of gratitude on Nancy's part. It's easy for her to be thankful, of course. She's not staring out at a torrential amount of rain that she's about to get to brave without an umbrella.

Making her way through the library and outside onto the back porch, Bess sighs, staring down at her flip-flops in self-evident despair.

"This is going to be disgusting, isn't it? Oh, who am I kidding. Of course it is. Well, here goes nothing."

Under normal circumstances, Bess might have thought that the cemetery is… creepy. As it is, there is little she can consider aside from the fact of how utterly wet she is. On the one hand, that's probably a good thing. On the other, she finds that being wet makes it a good 95% harder to concentrate on snooping, constantly preoccupied with wiping rain out of her eyes only for a new, fresh supply of rain to promptly follow its predecessor.

And that's not even considering the swarm of bugs she encounters at one point, or the fact that the cemetery is nothing short of a maze-- and one of epic proportions, at that.

All of this, of course, being in addition to the fact that she's completely drenched from head to toe.

She's fairly certain she's hopelessly lost by the time the distinct sound of someone crying hits her, Bess feeling herself freeze. She had (reluctantly) agreed to snooping; she had not signed up for actual, real-life ghosts!

"Hello? Is anyone there?"

As soon as her voice leaves her, the crying stops… as though the ghost had been listening, Bess slowly starting to regret ever agreeing to leave the warm, comfy confines of the house (where Henry is) to satisfy Nancy's need for answers, of all things.

She's going to die out here. Cold, wet, and alone, having never known Henry's touch…

Wait.

Henry?

Bess blinks as the sight before her slowly registers. Henry, kneeling in front of a crypt--his family crypt, presumably-- looking every bit as though he had just been crying.

"Henry?!"

He's on his feet and running before Bess can so much as think about saying anything else, leaving her to wonder just how good of an opportunity to properly talk to him-- openly and honestly-- she just shot in the face by scaring him off.

Then again, what is he, a baby deer?

Not that Bess' track record with forest animals has ever been all that much better, granted, but still.

At any rate, he's gone now. There's no reason for her to rush… not even on account of the rain slowly but surely seeping into every last corner of her being.

If she thought showers made one wet…

The crypt's awning provides temporary relief at any rate, Bess trying the door handle before looking around for a conspicuously hidden key. A potted plant, a welcome mat, a loose brick in the wall-- all the classics.

Still, she comes up empty. What she does find instead is the apparent source of the tracing in the living room, and, armed with new knowledge, she decides she's gotten wet enough for one evening.

They don't talk about Henry's crying when Bess gets back, as it turns out. In hindsight, she's not sure what on earth had her convinced that Henry would be brimming with the urge to talk about The Incident, but all he really does is hand her a towel, which she gratefully accepts.

(If it weren't for his own wet hair, Bess might have convinced herself that she'd imagined the whole thing.)

"Nancy," Bess mutters the second she makes it into the sitting room, mentally praying that her purse somehow managed to keep her phone at least somewhat dry as her fingers rifle through the mess of cosmetics, cosmetic samples, hair ties, and personal hygiene products.

(Which isn't to say that that's all she has on her, not in the least. Among the very important things such as her mini sewing kit, mini first aid kit, and wallet, of which there are only one each, the other articles simply… outnumber.)

"Nancy!" she says again, this time all relief upon finding her phone lighting up as it ought to as she presses the button to call her.

It rings twice before Nancy's voice cuts through from the other end.

Yeah-- if she's answering her phone that fast, she's definitely bored.

"Hey Bess, any news?"

"You bet I've got news! This whole Henry business is even sadder than I thought it was. Nancy." She pauses, as if solely to impress upon Nancy just how serious the situation really is. "I came across him crying in front of his parents' crypt. But... when he saw me he ran away."

"Wait-- are you telling me that that's the only thing your walk through the cemetery was good for?"

"Nancy!" Serious doesn't even begin to express the borderline shrill indignation that runs through Bess' tone in that moment. "A cute, sad boy was found crying in front of the locked door to his family crypt and all you can think about is the mystery?!"

"Sorry, sorry, I guess I just… don't usually focus on the humanitarian side of my mysteries."

"Well, you'll be happy to know that I might have figured out how to get into the crypt… maybe. Just have to find some paper first. And… a pencil."

She's trying to figure out how to talk to Henry about what she saw out in the cemetery when she spots a name on one of the bookshelves that she recognizes: Hotchkiss. Nancy knows that author, right?

For a brief moment, Bess debates just calling Nancy again in order to avoid talking to Henry about his feelings. But that's stupid. She's not a coward. She might not be one for snooping, but talking to boys? That's easy!

Or at least, it should be. Why does Henry leave her so tongue-tied, anyway?

She decides to picture him holding a puppy in his lap when she saunters over to him, hovering behind him for a moment. "Hey! Sooo..."

The entire chair swivels as he turns to face her. "Yes?"

"You wouldn't... happen to have some paper, would you?"

"Sure don't. Try asking Renée."

"Right." Silence. Henry stares at her, clearly waiting for her to continue. The longer she just stands here and stares at him the weirder it gets. Oh my gosh, why can't she just think of something smart and witty and cute to say?!

"... that all?"

"No! I mean, no. In a normal tone of voice. Um. Listen. I... kinda... saw something..." She has to fight the urge for her hands to twist into her skirt. She can't afford wrinkles under these circumstances! She doesn't even know if they have an ironing board or a decent steamer here! Yet. She doesn't know that yet. "Which... I guess you already know! Since you... were there and all. But, um! I guess I was wondering... if... you're... okay...?"

Henry stares at her, which is honestly fair. She must look and sound like a lunatic right now.

"... riiiight." The dumbfounded expression on his face slowly shifts into a sheepish one reluctant to even meet her eyes. She wanted to avoid that outcome! "Sorry about that. I'm fine."

It's Bess' turn to stare. "What do you mean, you're fine? Don't you want to be better than just fine?"

A sigh leaves him, his gaze still fixed on his lap. "Look, with all due respect..." He pauses, turning to look up at her. Unfortunately it's not an expression that exactly screams smitten adoration. "I've spent the majority of my life just being fine. If that's not good enough, I may as well give up on life now while I'm still ahead."

"No! Don't do that! There's so much in life to live for! Stuff that you, um... probably haven't experienced yet. Stuff like... birthdays! Or when you wake up to watch the sun rise and it's this perfect pretty pink color? Or the first cup of hot chocolate of the holiday season! Okay, so you've probably experienced that one, but still! You can do that every year! I was also gonna say kissing a really pretty girl in the rain while her heel pops up like in The Princess Diaries, but then I realized that you could do that every day if you wanted to-- I mean, if she also wanted to, obviously, but I guess that part was... implied. There's also cake! And muffins. And cupcakes! And I can think of more things! If those aren't... to your tastes, or something."

An unreadable expression crosses over Henry's face.

"I was mostly kidding, you know. But..." He stops for a moment, his gaze shifting off of her again. "Thanks. For... trying, I guess."

"Sure! Anytime!" Dial it back, Bess. You're going to freak him out. "But seriously, didn't you say your parents died when you were eight? Does it... still hurt a lot?"

"I guess." He lets the sentiment linger for a moment. "Pain like that doesn't ever really go away. But..." Bess watches as his finger taps out a pattern on his arm rest. "For what it's worth, it wasn't just that."

"Oh?"

The cute boy is opening up to her! Progress! Maybe.

"They're buried in that crypt. My parents, I mean. But... the key is missing. Or at least, I haven't been able to find it. I wanted to go inside, but I couldn't even... see them that way. It wouldn't surprise me if Renée took it just to upset me."

Her heart breaks at that. It must show on her face, because Henry quickly rushes in to say, "But like I said, I'm fine. Don't worry about it."

Ugh! Men!

"That must be so hard," she says, reaching out to gently touch on Henry's arm. "I can't even imagine what that must be like!"

No answer. For a moment, she thinks that she must have offended him somehow, but then she realizes that he's staring at her hand on his arm in seeming amazement.

"Oh, sorry!" she says, pulling her hand away again. "Got a bit carried away there with my comforting..."

His Adam's apple bobs up and down, Henry still staring at the spot where her hand was for a moment before turning to look away. "It's fine. Don't worry about it."

"Right, so I'll be-- oh! Wait! Shoot." Cursing herself, Bess shakes her head. "You wouldn't happen to have a pencil I could borrow, would you?"

"Oh." The question seems to pull him back to the present moment, even though Henry still isn't looking at her. "Sure."

It's not until she's outside again that she realizes she forgot to ask for an umbrella.

"Dang it..." she mutters to herself, looking through her handbag in search of her cell phone. Granted, this might not be the best time to go calling Nancy, right in front of a suspect and everything. She's spoken to Renée only briefly, but she already knows that there's something clearly wrong with her. She dislikes Henry. What sort of person could look at such a sad puppy and not like it?

Unfortunately, she needs paper. So she walks over to Renée and clears her throat.

"Um! Hello! You wouldn't happen to have some plain paper I could borrow?"

"I most certainly do. But it's up in my room, and I'm afraid I cannot retrieve it for you until I'm finished here. You get the sudden urge to draw a picture?"

"No-- I mean, yes! Definitely. I just love to draw, you know?"

"Well now you've got me curious. You'll have to show me whatever you end up drawing."

Drat. She hadn't thought that far ahead. How is Nancy always playing 5D chess with all of her suspects? And in her head, no less!

"Did you and Henry have a nice chat?"

Bess blinks. Right. She needs to get better at this detective thing, if only for Nancy's sake. Who really ought to be the one doing this right now!

"Yeah! Henry's nice. I couldn't have asked for a better Prince Charming to carry me to the library, honestly." A pause. "Speaking of being carried, you wouldn't happen to have seen how he was carrying me?"

Princess carry? Bridal style? Definitely not over his shoulder or dragging her along the floor?

"Well, I certainly didn't let him try anything, if that's what you're thinking."

"What? No, of course not!" If her words aren't enough, Bess hopes the incredulous look on her face will do the trick. "You, uh... really don't like him, huh?"

"Henry's a very morose, very negative young man. Very cunning, too. In fact, I'm fairly certain that he's been selling off Dr. Bolet's belongings on the sly."

"... why would he do something like that?"

"I'm sure I don't know, dear. But what I do know is that you ought to watch your belongings around him. See that nothing goes missing from your suitcase, ya hear?"

Henry wouldn't do something like that! Honestly, the nerve of some people.

"Um, well, anyway! Whenever you've got that paper, it would help me a lot! But no rush, of course. I'll just come back later and check if you already got it. No biggie!"

So much for suspect interrogation. Nancy should never have given her this job.

Making her way into the living room, she rifles through her bag again in search of her cell phone-- only to find that she left it sitting on the miniature cemetery. Probably from when she found that eyeball in one of the buildings.

She's about to pick it up when she stops and moves in a bit closer to get a better look. Isn't that...?

It so absolutely is! It's the symbol on the tracing! On the roof of... the crypt?

Bess: 1, Mystery: 0!

Calling Nancy, she shifts back and forth between her feet, more than a little impatient for her to pick up. The sound of yet another airport announcement in the background is a welcome one.

"Nancy, I'm getting better at this mystery thing! I figured out a clue!"

"Good job, Bess! I knew you could do it!"

That may have been a mistake. She's going to rue this one later, no doubt about it.

"I've also decided that I don't like Renée. She's so mean to Henry! Did you know he thinks that she's keeping him locked out of the crypt where his parents are buried? It's just too cruel!"

"Bess, keep an open mind! Everyone's a suspect, remember?"

It's a shame Nancy can't see her pouting on her end. "Henry isn't."

"Bess..."

"Nancy, there's no way. What would he even gain out of making me pass out and then carrying me into the library?"

On the other end of the line, Nancy heaves a sigh. "Look, just... try to consider all the clues, even if they're inconvenient?"

A disgruntled grumble leaves her in lieu of a response.

"I'm going back to snooping before you try to convince me that my future husband is a serial killer... oh! Wait! I forgot to mention something."

"What is it?"

"You know that one kooky author lady that helped you out when you went skiing but then didn't actually do any skiing?"

"Hotchkiss?"

"Yeah, that one!" She knew Nancy would remember. "One of her books is here in the library."

"What's it about?"

Shoot, she didn't pay too much attention to that. Wracking her brain, she lets out a slow hum as if to signal to Nancy that she's thinking about it. "Something about... skulls?"

"I'll look into it. Maybe ask Henry why his great-uncle had that book? She's not exactly the most reputable of authors out there..."

Bess pulls a face. "I doubt he'll know. He didn't even really know his great-uncle. I'll ask, but... don't get your hopes up."

As expected, Henry has no idea about the book, but invites her to poke through it anyway, as great-uncle Bruno supposedly "kept bits of paper and knick-knacks in all sorts of places sometimes."

Sure enough, there's even a phone number inside. And a strange note.

She makes a mental note to herself to tell Nancy about this when she calls her next before heading back out into the garden to talk to Renée.

"So, um, how goes the plant potting?" It certainly looks like she's done with whatever she was working on. "No pressure, of course. If you're not done yet, I can wait."

Gears seem to ratchet into place as Renée registers Bess' presence.

"You know, it completely slipped my mind. I even went up to my room and got myself a chocolate bar. But I'll tell you what." Pulling a key out of her pocket, she holds it out for Bess to take. "Here’s an extra key to my room. The paper's in a drawer in my nightstand. Just go on up and help yourself. You can take a candy bar for yourself too if you like. But make sure you lock the door when you leave, ya hear? You I trust, but Henry? Him I do not."

"There are two wolves inside of me, Nancy," Bess explains as she climbs the stairs. "One that really doesn't like Renée because of how mean she is to Henry, and one that really likes that she offered me a side of chocolate to go with being helpful."

"I'm sure she's not nearly as bad as you're making her out to be."

"You didn't hear the things she's said about Henry!" she says, unlocking the door that must be Renée's, if only by merit of being the only door with a lock. Which is weird. "The last time she blabbered on about some conspiracy theory where Henry is the antichrist who has been selling off his inheritance as if that shouldn't be allowed."

"Maybe it won't all go to him by the time it's allocated," Nancy says, infuriatingly logically. In the back of the call, another airport announcement sounds out, Bess waiting for it to finish before talking again.

All while hovering in Renée's doorway.

"Don't be so reasonable with all your... reasonableness. Or... maybe do, because it'll distract me from how insanely creepy this stupid room is!"

"Wait, Bess. Are you investigating right now?"

She closes the door behind her against her better judgment, quietly making peace with her untimely and impending death. "Yes. Obviously. This place is horrible, Nancy."

"Why? Where are you?"

Where indeed. "I'm sure that it wouldn't be nearly this bad if there was electricity! But because this is Bess Marvin's personal hell, I'm trapped in the 8th century where they hadn't invented candles yet!"

"I'm pretty sure they already had candles by then. Bess, calm down! It's just a room."

"You say that, but there are weird demon symbols on the wall and the paint is peeling and I'm pretty sure this room is bonafide haunted!"

The lightning and thunder aren't exactly helping. Maybe Henry's room is less haunted. And also the one she'll be sleeping in, wherever that will be.

"Bess, I promise you, it's just a room. No matter what it looks like, it's still just a room."

"Mmmrgh," Bess says, stepping up the nightstand and hoping there aren't any ghosts inside.

Thankfully, it's just paper and chocolate.

A crack of lightning lights up the room as she gets back up again, Bess feeling herself freeze.

"Um. I'm pretty sure there's a doll sitting there now that definitely wasn't there before."

"You probably just didn't see it! Bess, you're fine. Just grab what you need and leave."

"Thank you, I absolutely will. Bess Marvin is out of there!"

She all but flees the room, fingers trembling somewhat as she relocks the door. Bess Marvin is not falling to any ghosts, not today!

She's all but vibrating with anxious energy by the time she makes it back out to the crypt, only for the pencil to do a woefully miserable job. This definitely is not going to work, and it also is definitely not how the original artist-- maybe her skeleton man-- did the rubbing she found.

She must look as dejected as she feels, because by the time that she goes to hand Renée's key back to her, she's met by a look that can only be described as pitying.

"You're not still working on that skeleton man mystery of yours, are you?"

"I... might be. Might not." She pauses for a moment before pulling the tracing out of her bag. "You wouldn't, um... happen to recognize this at all?"

The confusion written on Renée's face seems to be an answer in and of itself already, but she continues all the same. "It's a mystery to me. I suggest you ask Henry. He leaves things lying around all the time. I guess he figures I won't notice amid all the other clutter, but I do. I notice everything."

Her expression sours increasingly while Renée somehow manages to just get worse and worse as she keeps talking. It's like sucking on a lemon that only gets meaner as time goes on. Or exponentially more lemons over time.

"Right," she says, before the analogy can run away from her any more. "Honestly, that seems kinda... mean? You do know his last living relative just died, right? You should go easier on him."

"I believe that trust and respect are earned, not something to just be freely given. When Henry shows me that he deserves my respect, I'll change my tune, but until then, I most certainly won't."

A huff leaves Bess as if in reply. This woman clearly can't be reasoned with.

"I just think he deserves a little kindness, that's all."

She stalks off after that, having clearly not made Renée change her mind whatsoever. Which is fine. It's not like she was hoping to do so anyway.

Moving to sit on the couch, hands tucked under her thighs, she clears her throat.

"So, Henry! You're not still on hold, are you?"

The chair swivels as her stomach does a flip.

"Nah, I gave up a while ago. Gonna call it a night soon. You should probably do the same."

She's about to protest when a large yawn escapes her. Okay, so he might be right.

"Um, before I do that, I was wondering if I could maybe ask you a couple of things? Only if it's not any trouble, I mean."

"Sure."

"Oh! Okay then." For some reason, she expected that to be a lot harder. It's probably why it takes her so much longer to pull out the tracing now. Probably. "Does this look at all familiar to you? In any way at all."

"Looks to me like some sort of tracing."

"Yes! Okay! That's what I was thinking too. I think it's a clue."

He doesn't answer, which she decides to take as tacit approval and a clear sign that he definitely doesn't think she's crazy just yet.

"Also, I've been talking to Renée, and she really doesn't seem to like you, huh?"

"Not even a little bit."

"I wonder why that is. I tried to ask her about it-- well, sort of-- but she got really defensive about it for some reason. I was like, why do you gotta be so mean to Henry? And she was like, respect and trust matter, or something. Hey, did you know that she thinks you've just been selling stuff?"

Again, that unreadable look on his face.

"She even told me to watch out that you don't steal stuff from my luggage." A pause. "Which is obviously silly," she adds, as if to reassure him that she doesn't think him some sort of thief.

"That's really nice of you."

"What, thinking it's silly that you'd rob some poor, innocent girl stuck at your house blind?"

Somehow, Henry doesn't miss a beat. "Nah, not that. Just-- defending me to Renée. It's nice of you to do that. You don't really know me, so..."

"Are you kidding? You found some random-- albeit very pretty-- girl lying passed out in your foyer and instead of calling the cops or just dumping me out in the front yard, you carried me in here and nursed me back to health."

"I'm not sure it was all that, really."

Okay, so maybe that's embelleshing things a bit, but so what? A girl can dream, right?

"My point is, it was really nice! You didn't even know if I was the girl that was going to come visit you! And, you know, technically... I was just Nancy's replacement... but anyway, my point is, you didn't have to do that! You're even letting me stay here now. And..." Her body forces her to stop as she feels a rather sizeable yawn escape her. "... overnight, too," she finishes.

"It's really no problem."

Bess shakes her head, but it's clear that Henry isn't about to believe her when she tries to insist that he's a nice guy. That's fine. He'll come around yet. She just has to keep at it!

"Anyway, we should probably be getting to bed. You can take the room at the top of the stairs. Just up and straight ahead. Here," he continues, turning off his laptop and getting up, "I'll show you where the spare linens, towels, and pillows are too."

Henry ends up giving her a small tour of the rest of the house that she hasn't seen yet, and she ends up even more smitten by the end of it than when it began.

One much-needed shower later, Bess is headed up to her temporary bedroom. According to Henry, her bags are already there, which is also extremely nice of him.

Like having her own personal valet.

Unfortunately, whatever less-haunted thing she was expecting to find in the room at the top of the stairs, nothing could have prepared her for the truth: this room must be at least ten times as haunted as Renée’s, if that’s even possible.

It’s also tiny.

Is this where Bruno slept? Worse still, is this where Henry normally sleeps?

No wonder why he took her to see all the spare blankets and linens! How else is she supposed to survive all the ghosts that definitely live here?!

By the time that she returns to the room armed with additional blankets for protection, Bess has almost convinced herself that she isn’t about to be eaten by a ghost in her sleep.

Almost.

The phone rings, Bess waiting with bated breath for Nancy to pick up.

Instead of a hello, what ends up greeting her is a long, extended yawn from the other end, one that her own body promptly mirrors.

“Ho-ahhh… Bess, you’re still up?”

Wait. This doesn’t sound like the airport. “Don’t tell me you made it to New Orleans!”

“No, of course not,” Nancy promptly says, clearly thrilled to crush her hopes and dreams.

That'll teach her to get her hopes up. Bess makes a face.

“They booked me into an airport hotel for the night. What about you?”

Oh, how she wishes she were in Nancy’s shoes right now. Room service, air conditioning, housekeeping, no hauntings… it all sounds like a dream come true right in this moment.

“Well,” she starts, letting herself plop down on the bed, “as much as I wish I was at a hotel right now, I’m still here.”

“You’ve always been a bad liar, Bess. Come on, admit it! You’re glad you’re there with Henry.”

“Well, yes, obviously! Wouldn’t any girl with a pulse feel the same way? Seriously though, Nance. If I die tonight, please know that it was this room that took me, and that I'm really mad about it.”

"You haven't died yet, Bess."

"Yet?!"

"-- and you won't," Nancy adds, as if it could ever be so simple. "What's got you so spooked, anyway?"

"It's this place, Nancy! I thought Renée's room was bad, but if this is Henry's room normally, this is like a prison cell!"

"It can't be that bad."

It is. It most certainly is. If Nancy were here, she'd probably even agree.

Then again, this might be Nancy's normal. One prison cell per case...

"Bess? You there?"

"This place is so haunted, Nancy! You don't even know. If this is a guest bedroom, then Bruno hated all of his guests! Not even a single painting of a kitten or puppy in sight!" A pause. "Oh my gosh, that's probably wherever Henry had to sleep when he was here! That's so sad!"

"You're still... investigating the mystery, right?"

If only Nancy was here to see her deadpan stare. "Nancy! Focus! A cute boy is spending his nights lonely and jailed not only by his own emotions, but by his room! Also, yes; of course I'm still investigating. It's just... stalled a bit."

"Stalled how?"

Leave it to Nancy to focus on the least interesting thing Bess mentioned.

"Like... you can't make a rubbing of things with pencil. In the rain. It just doesn't work!"

Silence. Bess can practically hear the gears turning in Nancy's head. "Does this house have a fireplace?"

"Yeah! Two, actually."

"Well in that case, you've got your answer right there! Just take a piece of coal, and--"

"Wait, wait, wait, you want me to use coal to do this?" She can already feel her hands drying out just thinking about it. Thank goodness she brought lotion with her.

"It'll definitely work! I promise."

She grumbles, unable to help but. "Mrrrr, fine. But I don't like it! I want that on the official record!"

"Got it. Did you go back to check on the Hotchkiss book like I asked?"

"Oh! Yeah, I totally did! I actually have it here with me." Picking it up off the floor, she pops it open in her lap. "It's called Crystal Skull: Fact or Fable, and it's even got her phone number in here!"

"That's great, Bess!"

"I know. I'm obviously a great detective and you're very lucky to have me on the case."

On the other end, Nancy laughs, which is entirely fair. "I sure am! Anyway, you should get some rest. I'll call Hotchkiss tomorrow, and with any luck, I'll even be headed your way!"

By the time that morning rolls around, Bess finds that the room hasn't gotten a whole lot better by the light of day. Mostly because there doesn't seem to be a whole lot of light of day to begin with. Still no electricity, barely any light, pouring rain...

Woefully unplugging her phone from the wall again-- she really should have listened to Nancy when she urged her to bring a power bank-- she tucks it away in her purse. So much for that distant hope of them magically getting electricity back in the middle of the night!

Back at it, she supposes. She needs to grab a chunk of coal, of all things. And then... head back out into the super creepy cemetery.

She is not looking forward to that.

Now that she's had some sleep, Bess is at least feeling refreshed and much, much cuter, even if she did end up having to put her makeup on via powder compact while standing right next to a window.

Better, she supposes, than doing it by the light of her phone.

Maybe Henry has gloves she can borrow to pick up that piece of coal. Renée definitely would... though she probably wouldn't be too eager to get her gardening gloves covered in coal dust.

Stepping into the library, she's about to open her mouth to ask when she sees that Henry isn't at his desk at all.

Instead, he's... asleep. On the tiny little library couch.

Bess' heart goes ba-bump in her chest.

The blanket he'd been using seems to have fallen to the ground, Henry's body curled up into a little ball. There's just no way he isn't cold, right?

Granted, the couch is pretty small. It's possible, she supposes, that he's just curled into a ball because of the lack of space and that he kicked his blanket off because he was too warm with it on. But what if she's wrong?

Moreover, why is he even here? He said there were plenty of beds! Was that just a lie so that she would get to be comfortable? And is that just him being a gracious host or should she be reading into this as more than it seems?

He really is very cute. Painfully cute, even, judging by what her stomach is doing right now. All the more so while sleeping. So calm, so peaceful. How could Renée possibly hate him?

Well, she decides, squaring her jaw, if he really was just warm, he can just throw the blanket off again.

Slipping out of her flip-flops in order to quieten her approach, she tip-toes over to him and crouches down far enough to reach for the blanket to grab.

Quiet, quiet...

If this were a romance novel, this would most definitely be the part where she'd be meant to kiss him-- on the cheek or otherwise-- and then whisper her love to him. He would be awake, but he wouldn't let on to that fact, but still, he'd know about her feelings! And then he could kiss her, or keep pretending to be asleep...

Except that this isn't a romance novel, and he'd definitely just be asleep through all of it, and then there she would be, having made an absolute fool of herself.

She sighs. Life should be more like a romance novel. And not only because Henry's lips look like they would be incredibly soft to kiss.

Ugh, she must look like a total creep. If Henry were to wake up now, she'd just look like a lunatic, watching him sleep for absolutely no reason. Willing herself out of her daydreams, Bess gently puts the blanket on his legs and pulls it up to his shoulders.

Only for Henry to stir.

"Mm... summer?"

She falters. What?

"Oh, um. No, I'm pretty sure it's still spring."

His eyes flutter open, seeming to take in his surroundings before landing on Bess. "Oh, right."

Well. That was way less romantic than she was hoping for.

"Sleep well? I swear I wasn't just standing here staring. You just-- looked really cold, that's all!"

A low, tired moan leaves Henry as he moves to sit, running a hand over his face. "Mm. What time is it?"

"I'm happy to report that it is eight-thirty in the morning!"

Henry presses his eyes shut before repeating the motion and turning his head up to look at her. "Chipper, aren't you."

"You do look really tired. I'd offer to make coffee, but, um, there's still no electricity. And also it's still raining and super gloomy."

"Great." His hand runs over his face again, a yawn escaping him. An adorable one, no less. Is everything he does just cute by default? It's infuriating. "I kinda expected as much, though. I only fell asleep around when the sun started coming up."

"What?" For a moment, Bess just stares at him. "Why?!"

He shrugs. "Insomnia. Been like this ever since my parents died."

"I am so sorry."

Another shrug. "Not like it's your fault."

"That is not what people mean when they say that, you know! Let other people be sad that you've suffered! Or that you're sad!"

The inscrutible look is back, though this time it looks a whole lot more tired. And no wonder! The guy barely slept!

"You know, it's not too late to go back to sleep. Although-- you should have told me that I was going to be stealing your bed from you, you know!"

As cross with him as she tries to sound, it most likely doesn't come across as all too convincing.

"It's fine, I don't mind taking the couch. I would have had just as much trouble getting to sleep up in that bed."

Bess stares at him. "Uh, yeah! Anyone would! I mean, I obviously didn't, but still! That room looks like a jail cell! Is this really where your great-uncle slept? While Renée, you know... had all that space?"

Getting up, Henry makes his way over to the desk with a noncommittal sigh, starting to light several more candles. "Guess so. I didn't exactly spend a ton of time here before now."

That's not really all that much better, Bess thinks to herself.

"Then I think we-- by which I obviously mean you-- should spruce up the place! The room, I mean. It's so drab and dreary right now! You don't have to match the weather, you know. We-- by which I obviously mean you again-- could paint the walls! Oh, maybe a nice pastel yellow? Yellow always makes me feel so happy when I look at it. People are so down on yellow all the time, and I really don't understand it. It's just such a happy color! Maybe people are just allergic to joy."

Catching the look on Henry's face is an accident, but-- for a split second, she thinks she sees him actually smiling.

"Anyway, some paint and maybe even some paintings and some more exciting furniture-- oh, and a duvet with a pretty pattern! The room would turn right around."

As quick as it appeared, so swiftly does it disappear again. "It's not really my house. Can't exactly go decorating what doesn't belong to me."

"What do you mean?"

He shrugs, moving to sit in the big leather swivel chair. "I'm only getting thirty percent of the will."

"That doesn't really... seem right."

He doesn't respond to that, which Bess decides to take as tacit, unspoken agreement until he does pipe up again.

"But it sounds kinda nice, you know. That stuff you talked about? Can't exactly decorate in campus housing either."

Right. She almost forgot about his Ned connection.

"And I guess yellow isn't really my color. More of a... black kinda guy."

"You know, that might be your problem. But I have a solution!"

The ghost of a smile briefly makes itself known on Henry's face. "Oh?"

"Black and yellow are very cute together."

"And what, we'd call it the bumblebee room?"

"Hey!"

Any annoyance she might have felt is evaporated instantly. Bess is smiling, but the sound of Henry's laughter is more than enough to send her into her own giggle fit.

It's interrupted only by a low rumble coming from Bess' stomach.

Grrrmnnnghllll.

Oh. Oh no. She needs to sink into the floor, pronto.

"Now that you mention it, I could eat. And we've got plenty of stuff that won't have gone bad yet that we could use to make sandwiches. You wanna?"

Henry doesn't need to ask twice.

She's still smiling and all but dancing around the place two hours later when Nancy calls to tell her the good news.

"It sounds like we'll be able to leave St. Louis today."

"Oh, good! It's still pouring cats and dogs out here, so hopefully they won't reroute you to yet another airport, or this will be like Arizona all over again, but in reverse!"

"Any news on the case?"

Honestly! Nancy with her one-track mind.

"Yes, the flirting with Henry is going great, thank you very much."

"Bess! You know what I mean."

"I haven't made any progress! I've been too busy flirting my extremely cute little butt off! You know he gave up his bed for me? I know I was super down on the room last night, but that's just so darn sweet that even the awful crazy-making wallpaper of that room seems just a little bit more cheerful. I think I'd call that color depression yellow. Someone should tell Pantene."

"Pantone, Bess?"

"Oh, right! Sorry, I guess I'm just still thinking about how nice it felt to shower last night. I mean, it was in the almost total pitch dark and definitely the spookiest shower I've ever taken, but still." She sighs. "Anyway, you'll be happy to know that I am going to head out to give those tracings another go!"

"Good job, Bess! I knew you could do it!"

That's Nancy speak for, well done, you did something that I first did when I was three-and-a-half! Bess huffs.

"I'm on my way back to the airport, so we might get cut off here in a bit; I don't think reception is too good in the airport shuttles, but I did talk to Hotchkiss this morning."

"Oh?"

"Apparently Bruno called her to ask about the crystal skull called The Whisperer a few years ago. When she asked him what he knew about it, he said 'the eyes have it.'"

"The eyes have it... huh."

"Bess?"

She shakes her head. "Sorry, just thinking to myself. I keep finding all these glass eyes all over the place. Come to think of it, I ought to ask Henry about that. But first, I need to do some tracing!" Silence. "Nancy?"

Probably in a dead zone, then. Bess ends the call and tosses her phone back in her handbag. Armed with a small hand towel, she crouches down and grabs hold of a piece of coal. Honestly, she should have thought of this sooner.

Going out to get the other tracings turns out not to be so bad at all with a hand towel for protection, even if she is extremely wet and only barely managing to keep the tracings dry.

She fixes her makeup before going back in, which she's fairly certain Renée noticed, but that's fine. So what if she wants to look nice for Henry! No one has probably ever done that for him before and he deserves nice things too.

Even if Renée thinks otherwise.

In her attempt at keeping the tracings a bit less runny (by now it looks like the bird is crying from the rain, its mascara smeared all the way down to the other end of the paper), she definitely got them a bit mixed up, so it admittedly takes her a bit longer than expected to get them in order on the roof of the little crypt building. And then it turns out that whoever made this-- most likely Bruno-- went with backwards logic of which way the symbols should go.

But then, there it is! A little key. Which is probably the crypt key.

Bess heaves a sigh. This is definitely a step in the right direction, but she is less than thrilled about going back out into the creepy, rainy cemetery.

Not that that's about to stop her! It certainly wouldn't stop Nancy. Who is, admittedly, fearless, but still!

The water is up to her arches in some spots as she wades through several puddles, grateful yet again that her flip flops are rubber and therefore waterproof. If necessary, they'd even help her float! Not that she expects to run into any swimming pools anytime soon.

Then again, leave it to her to drown in a puddle.

Luckily for her, the key seems to fit, seamlessly turning in the lock and popping the door open.

The sight of inscriptions on either wall stays her hand. Wait. Henry should be here, shouldn't he? Seeing as he was crying not too long ago about not even getting to enter his parents' resting place... this is the least she can do.

Drawing back, she pulls the door shut again and marches her way back-- wades, really-- to the house.

She's dripping by the time she reaches the library, most likely leaving puddles wherever she goes.

"I know you're working, but Henry! This is really important. You gotta come with me."

She's met with an incredulous look. "What?"

"Come on! No complaining. We're going. Just take my hand."

As if to double down on the statement, she holds her hand out to him, which earns itself the same strange look from Henry again. As though he's never seen a girl's hand ever before.

Not that that seems to stop him. Henry takes her hand, and her stomach does several flips in response.

"Might I at least ask where exactly we're going?"

"No."

Henry is very good at allowing himself to be dragged places. Which means that Bess is definitely not picturing dragging him all over New Orleans or River Heights to do shopping. He goes to Emerson! He'd be right there!

She's being rude, isn't she?

Slowing her steps, she turns to look at Henry, who is somehow even cuter when wet. Oh, to be a shower...

"Do you trust me?"

He doesn't answer right away, just staring at Bess for a long moment. Rain drops seem to hit his lashes and linger, pointing out to Bess just how long they actually are. Unfair, honestly.

"Guess so," Henry says. It's with enough conviction that it almost sounds like a revelation.

Either way, she'll take it.

"Good," she says, exhaling a huff. "You should."

And probably even can! No, definitely can.

It's obvious by the time they reach the crypt that Henry had no idea where they were going. Has no idea? Maybe he's still in the dark about it, and not only because of how gloomy it is here all the time. Honestly, it's May! The weather ought to take notes from the rest of the world on how sunny it should be!

She stops them in front of the crypt and turns to face a very puzzled-looking Henry. His hand still in hers, she lifts it up to place the crypt key inside of it before folding his fingers over. "Here. Um. This is yours, I think. Or... at least it should be."

The look on Henry's face remains static for long enough that Bess can't help but start to feel a bit worried about him. Is he just processing the information, but really, really slowly?

"What?"

Oh good! He's still alive. Even if very, very wet.

"You were missing that key, remember? I thought I'd return it to you."

Again, that utterly baffled expression. "You just... did that for me?"

"Um. Yes." A pause. Granted, she is starting to doubt herself a bit here. "Should I... not have?"

This time, Henry doesn't miss a beat. "You're amazing, Bess."

It's definitely the warm rain and the heat and the humidity that's making her cheeks burn bright red at that, Bess' grin spreading from one ear to the other. "It's... honestly... what just anyone would have done! Probably. Probably would have done."

Granted, Nancy probably would very much not have done that.

"No, this, uh. This really means a lot."

Before Henry can go turning the red on her face into a heat stroke, she lets go of his hand and starts pushing him toward the door. "Well, go on! You should go in!"

He seems to consider it, taking several steps up to the door. When Bess doesn't follow, he turns to look at her. "Aren't you coming?"

He'd let her in? Just like that?

"Only if it's all right with you! But it's really okay if it isn't. I can just wait out here!"

"No, come on. Let's get out of the rain."

He makes a good point. Bess follows after him, ready to wring out her clothes by the time she enters, both of them dripping a path onto the floor. Their very own puddles.

It's cooler inside than expected, which is honestly pretty nice. And the place feels... peaceful.

"So... these are your family members, huh?"

"Guess so."

Henry's eyes are fixed to two of the etchings in particular: Marianne and Claude.

"It's very nice to meet you, Henry's parents." She casts an uncertain look toward him. "I mean, I assume these are your parents. Would be kinda weird if your parents were born in, uh..." turning back, she glances at Fifi's crypt. "1918?"

"They would have liked you," Henry says, as if that isn't a devastatingly kind thing to say.

"I hope so," she tells him, going to stand next to him. "They must have been really nice to raise someone like you."

When she takes his hand to squeeze, he doesn't pull away.

She gets her hand back eventually, unfortunate as it is. Even so, it's not until they're about to leave that Henry notices something.

"Wait a second," he mutters, stepping to the back of the crypt only to return with what looks like... a poster? A painting?

He unfurls it only partway, but seems to recognize it all the same.

"Shit. I didn't think I'd find this here."

"What is it?"

"My parents' portrait has been missing from the frame in the living room ever since I got here. I thought Renée took it, but I guess not?" The sliver of painting revealed to her promptly disappears again, and Henry turns his attention back to her, ushering her back outside. "Come on. Let's put it back where it belongs."

They're both still leaving trails of water behind them by the time that they get back to the house, Bess going off to find them both towels while Henry returns the painting to its rightful frame.

It's a good thing it's as warm as it is, or else they'd both no doubt catch cold.

"Here," she tells him, handing him a towel as she looks at the portrait now that it's back on the wall.

"You look a lot like your mom, I think," she tells him as she tries to get her hair to stop dripping. "And your dad, too. I guess that's kinda how genetics work, huh?"

Stepping back, Henry looks over all the frames. "Do these seem to be in the right order to you?"

"Good question." Bess cocks her head. "Are they supposed to be?"

"I just remember them being in a different order, I guess." There's a pause before he nods to the bottom right frame, his parents' frame already in hand. "Would you mind grabbing that one for me?"

"Sure!" Grabbing hold of it, she watches as Henry exchanges the two frames before giving them a look-over again.

"That one went here... I think. And this one..."

"These are kinda weird," she admits. "Why were they painted with like... household items? Were those always there?"

"Ever since I can remember, yeah. No clue why."

Okay, so clearly the Bolets are a bit kooky. But then, who isn't? Other than Nancy.

Nancy is just a square.

"Do you know what item you'd want?"

Henry stops mid-painting swap.

"I'd want to get married first, I think. Might be a while before that happens. Just... seems like the sort of thing I'd want to decide with my wife."

Wedding bells ring in Bess' head in a delightful chorus. Birds chirp, harps play, and true love is real. Her heart sings.

"Yeah?"

Her voice comes out a bit squeakier than she means for it to, but that's fine! That's totally f--

Bzzt bzzt.

"Shit, hang on." Henry stops, setting one of the frames down to pull his phone out of his pocket. "I need to take this-- would you mind swapping those last two frames real quick?"

"Sure!"

She watches him walk away, a dreamy sigh escaping her as she does so. His backside really is...

"Hey, Summer--"

The library door shuts before she can hear anything else of the conversation, but Bess feels her brain ratchet thoughts into place.

Summer? He wasn't talking about the season, he was talking about a person?

Worse yet, he was asking after this Summer while still asleep and barely waking up.

Oh no.

She can't be his sister or his cousin. After all, he doesn't have any family members left. Which can only mean that she's a close enough friend to him as to casually call him and for him not to be surprised... even though she's clearly not here right now to support him the way any good friend should, instead leaving him to subsist on Ned's pity...

Or she's something much, much worse.

Namely a girlfriend.

It strikes her (much like the arrow now striking her right through the chest) that this is still a super shitty girlfriend move. Why is he here alone? Shouldn't she have come with him? He's still having to subsist on Ned's pity, after all!

More importantly, why isn't Nancy picking up now that she needs to desperately talk to her about this?! Even if she wasn't off on that internship, George isn't good for this kind of thing! Even if she remotely understood what it was like to crush on a boy, George still would be the worst person to turn to in a love crisis like this.

So distressed is she as she rifles through her thoughts that she almost misses the click behind her when the final picture frame is put into place.

Suddenly, Henry's voice sounds a whole lot closer.

"Mmmmmmmrrrgggg," she says to herself, scrunching up her face. She's not a snoop! Or an eavesdropper! And also, she and Henry should be investigating this-- what seems to be a secret passageway (honestly, who is she now, Nancy?)-- together!

The name Summer catches her attention yet again, and Bess lets out another noise of frustration before stepping into the passageway and holding her breath.

"C'mon, Summer, gimme a break here. You never said anything about that."

Okay, that's a good start. Maybe there's relationship troubles on the horizon?

"Well, how was I supposed to know? I mean, what am I, telepathic?"

Better yet, what if it's because he met a super cute girl that he hopefully can't stop thinking about? Because that would be great.

"No, no, c'mon, don't get upset... look, I'll see what I can do, okay?"

Mmmm, she likes that a whole lot less.

"Whaddya mean, 'something else'? You gotta be kidding me, Summer. I don't have that kinda money." Only a brief beat passes before he's already talking again, rushing in to reassure her. "No, no, I meant, I don't have it now, but I will. Soon. Okay? Bye."

He finishes off the call with a kissy noise, of all things, pretty much confirming all of her worst fears.

"Ah, man."

She scuttles back out into the living room before Henry can catch her listening in, even as her mind is going about a mile an hour. This is the worst news. It feels like someone deflated her stomach.

Her phone lights up with Nancy's name, Bess breathing a massive sigh of relief as she casts another glance toward the secret passageway.

That can wait. Right now, she needs someone to do some serious girltalk with.

"Nancy, I'm so glad you called."

"Hey, Bess! You sound really out of breath. Is everything all right?"

Okay, so maybe she's a bit out of shape. That really isn't the important thing to focus on here!

"I just ran up the stairs to the jail room. It's fine! Everything is just ruined."

"What? What's going on?"

"Henry has a girlfriend."

Oh, she could just cry.

"Aw, Bess."

"Don't just aw, Bess me! This is serious!"

"Think of it this way: now you can focus on the case!"

Nancy is definitely not taking this even remotely seriously. Bess pulls the phone away from her face to scowl at it.

"I want you to know that I'm wasting precious phone battery to be having this conversation, Nancy! I can't charge anything! Do you realize how serious this is?!"

"Want me to talk to Ned to see if he knows anything about Henry having a girlfriend?"

Worrying her bottom lip, Bess feels herself pout. "... maybe."

"I'll call him, okay? I'm sure this isn't the end of the world."

She sighs. It most definitely is. "Well, for what it's worth, he doesn't seem very happy."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, he was talking to this Summer girl like he was walking a darn tightrope, Nancy! Something about how he needs to get money to do something for her? He said he doesn't have money, and then scrambled to be like, oh, don't worry, I'll get it! Like, he sounded really desperate, Nance."

"You're sure that she's his girlfriend?"

"I dunno, do you make kissy noises at the end of your phone calls to Ned?"

Silence. Bess decides to let that answer speak for itself before Nancy steps in anyway.

"... no."

Then again, it's not like she expected Nancy, of all people, to do that sort of thing.

"Well, then they're more boyfriend and girlfriend than you and Ned, I guess." Grumble, grumble. "Anyway, he sounded upset. And I guess she was upset, and he tried to make her feel better? Either way, rain clouds on the horizon... I hope."

She casts her glance outside the window, dull and gray. She can only hope for that sort of forecast in his current relationship, even if it makes her feel a bit guilty.

"I'll cross my fingers for you. Meanwhile, you can look forward to me finally making it to New Orleans."

"You're gonna be here soon?!"

"Well, soon enough. We're supposed to take off in half an hour, but they keep pushing it back.” The pleasant droning of another crackly airport announcement sounds in the background. “I'll let you know if we get lucky here sometime in the future."

Henry is still in the library when she goes back downstairs, apologetic look on her face as she holds her phone up by way of explanation. “Sorry about that! Nancy called right after you left.”

“That’s fine. I figured you were gonna come back eventually when I didn’t find you back out in the living room.”

“Yeah! Um, here I am!”

Reel it in, Bess! He can’t know that you were eavesdropping like some sneaky sneak!

She clears her throat. “Is, uh… everything okay on your end?”

Great. That is the opposite of what she should be doing.

“Oh, yeah. Don’t worry about it. Just… something from back home.”

There’s got to be a way to get this conversation back on the rails, right? She squirms a bit in the spot where she’s standing, turning over topics in her mind before stumbling across the obvious one.

Of course! How could she forget the most important thing!

“That actually reminds me— did you see? Right as I was putting the last portrait in place there was this clicking sound and a secret passageway opened! Anyway, I didn’t go in because I figured we should explore it together. If that’s… okay with you.”

Judging by the look on his face, he absolutely did not see the secret passageway.

“What?”

“Here— come on, I’ll show you.”

He doesn’t take her hand that time, but still allows himself to be guided into the living room all the same… where there is indeed a secret passageway.

It’s almost a relief that it hasn’t just up and walked away or gone to get a girlfriend.

“See! I told you!”

“Huh.”

Stepping inside, Henry leaves enough room for her to join him. Even so, it’s a delightfully small space, and Bess feels her upper arm press up against his as she stands on her tiptoes to look through the…

“Is that a peephole?”

“What can you see?”

Pressing the switch to zoom in, she reads the title. “It’s a book called… The Eye of the Beholder? Weird.” Drawing back, she looks up at him. “Your great-uncle was really into eyes, huh?”

"Yep. Wore a glass eye for as long as I can remember. Had a whole collection of 'em. Liked to wear a different color every day. Here, check it out."

Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a set of keys to hold out to her to see, its keychain adorned by what looks like a green glass eye attached at the end.

"Is that... one of his glass eyes?"

She's not sure what it is about dark spaces that always make her want to whisper, but at least Henry seems to be mirroring the behavior.

"It's the one he was wearing when he died."

Looking up at him turns out to have been a mistake. Henry is standing very, very close to her, close enough to make her breath catch.

He could just lean in... very slowly, and she could lean up, and--

Her thoughts are interrupted by her phone suddenly going off in her purse, Nancy's ringtone playing through the quilted fabric.

And I could be your favorite girl forever, perfectly together, and tell me boy, now wouldn't that be sweet--

Scrambling to silence her ringer, Bess feels herself flush bright pink. God! Why couldn't George have called? At least Panic! at the Disco would have been way better than Gwen Stefani! Henry at least seems like the kind of guy who might actually like the former, but definitely not the latter. Nuh-uh, no way. Granted, a song called "Lying Is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off" might have been a bit too on the nose given his whole... girlfriend situation.

Not that Bess knows if she's lying to him. She just probably is.

God, she's probably cheating on him too!

"Um!" She hears herself let out a soft, only slightly panicked giggle, Bess promptly taking a polite step back, however small it might be, her gaze falling to his chest. Which is... really nice. "Anyway! We should probably... keep investigating the rest of the passage, right? Come on, time's a-wasting!"

Her eyes swivel back up to look at him, now with a bit more distance. The inscrutible look seems to be back, Bess chewing on her bottom lip as a horrible thought seems to occur to her. Is this the dreaded I-have-a-girlfriend look?

Granted, she can't possibly know that! So that's totally not her fault.

"Don't you wanna take that?"

"What?" Oh, her phone. Bess laughs. "It's fine. It's just Nancy. It's... not like I have a boyfriend, or anything!"

Cool it, Marvin! Why would she even bring that up?! Now he's going to think she listened in on his phone call!

"... right."

"Plus, I'm trying to save on battery life. It's fine. I'll just! Call her later!"

That part, at least, is not a lie. She is trying to watch her battery. Her prayers for the power to come back last night went unanswered, anyway.

"I have a power bank you can use, if you want. It's what I've been using."

Her eyes widen. "Henry, you're a lifesaver! I'll totally take you up on that offer. After we investigate this creepy hallway, I mean."

Henry sends her one last look, clearly trying to suss out how crazy she is on a scale from kinda normal to absolutely nutter-butters, before turning back to the stairs to climb them.

"There are way too many cobwebs here," Bess tells him as she follows.

"If you're not a fan of cobwebs, I'm not sure how much you're gonna like this."

Stopping just a step down from where Henry is, Bess frowns as she watches him jiggle the doorknob.

"Let me guess. Locked?"

"Not just that. Look."

His tapping on the space beneath the knob grabs her attention. There isn't a ton of light in this hallway, but she can just barely make out what... does... indeed... look like a spider web.

"Mmmmrrgghhh, I have a bad feeling about this."

"It's about to get worse. I'm pretty sure I know where that is."

"What? Where? Don't tell me your great-uncle also kept spiders as exotic pets!"

"Nah, it's not that. Come on, let's head out back. I'll show you."

She's less than thrilled at the prospect of going spiderweb-hunting, seeing as she normally goes out of her way to avoid those or just leaves Nancy or George to take care of them, but at least she's not alone. She's got her very own Prince Charming with her!

Now, if only he wasn't already dating someone. And hadn't just heard her musical tastes.

Then again, it could have been worse. It could have been Ned's ringtone. "Hey There Delilah" would have probably just made Henry think of his girlfriend and possibly induced a breakdown.

Anyway!

"Lead the way," she tells him, sounding a whole lot braver than she feels.

He takes her into the garden, Bess catching a glimpse of Renée blatantly staring at their little excursion. Which is extremely rude, really.

"It's here," he says as they approach the fountain, prompting Bess' steps to promptly slow.

"Ohhh nooo, don't tell me I've been passing right by a giant spider all this time!"

"Nah, it seems fine in the hole there. Come on, don't be scared. I'll keep you safe."

Oh my gosh. He did not just say that. Did he really just say that?!

"I... actually believe you. Which is a first. Not, uh-- not me believing you, but me believing when someone tells me the're gonna keep me safe from a spider. And other things, obviously-- ugh, you know what I mean."

Her words earn her a small smile for some reason that she couldn't possibly hope to riddle out, Bess crouching down beside him.

"Oookay. Deep breaths, Marvin. You can do this."

"Here, take my hand."

Forget flips, her stomach is just full on somersaulting right about now!

Guys with girlfriends that they really love and who really love them back wouldn't be acting like this, right?

She takes his hand.

"See these strings? I think we're supposed to pluck them in the right order, like on the door. You took notes, right?"

"Here they are!" she says, definitely sounding not even a little nervous, definitely not.

"Hold them for a second, will you?"

It takes her a moment to realize why, Henry glancing up at it occasionally while plucking on the strings: this way, she doesn't have to let go of his hand.

Mentally ticking off another box in the Prince Charming column, Bess lets out a dreamy little sigh.

"Did you say something?"

"Who, me? Noooo."

Maybe he plays an instrument. This should certainly qualify as making music, the sounds pleasant enough so as to overpower the general nightmare fuel-ness of this place, so she can't help but wonder. What sort of instrument would a guy like Henry play, anyway? Violin, maybe?

Henry plucks the last string, the music suddenly replaced by a horrible scraping sound that makes her yelp.

Softly. In a ladylike way.

"Bess, you're kinda squeezing real hard--"

"Oh--! Easing her grip, she offers him an apologetic smile. "Sorry 'bout that! You know how it is with spiders and whatnot."

"It's fine. It's just because I wear rings. Probably would have been fine otherwise, but they kinda... dig in."

Now that he mentions it, he does, doesn't he? Gosh, no wonder Nancy was so perplexed. Henry really isn't like the sort of guy she'd normally go for. But he really is... really, really nice. Sweet and considerate. Not to mention cute.

He also still has a girlfriend.

Henry grabs the hard-won key off the raised platform. "Come on. Let's get back inside before you start melting... I might not be made of sugar, but you definitely are."

They're still very much damp by the time they return to the secret passageway, Henry having grabbed a towel for them to share along the way.

Okay, so maybe they're both eager to see what lies beyond the super secret locked door behind the other super secret door. No one could possibly blame them for that, least of all Nancy.

"The key fits," Henry tells her, no small amount of excitement in his voice as he turns it in the lock.

"Come on, open it! Don't leave me in suspense!"

"I think you mean us," Henry says with a smile, and opens the door.

It's... an attic. A very messy, very cluttered, pretty darn dusty attic.

"Huh," Bess says, stepping in after Henry to take in their environs. "What is this place? Just wherever Bruno went to dump his holiday decorations?"

"He really tried to hide this place away. He wouldn't have done that if this was just an attic. No, there's gotta be something more here that we're just not seeing yet. Come on, let's take a look around."

There's almost too much to take in. Bess spins, spotting the usual attic-resident suspects: old carpets, rolled up and stuffed into a bin, messily-stacked flower pots, weird paintings about... teeth...

"Aw, look! It's a little mini wardrobe!" Opening it, Bess hears herself giggle. "Oh my gosh, are these all for Iggy?"

"Mm?"

There he is. Right behind her just a second later. Bess can feel his breath against her neck, and finds her own catch in turn.

"It's gotta be. Not like these could have fit Bruno."

Much as she tries to stifle it, the snort-laugh bubbling out of her in response escapes all the same. "Not with that attitude!" Looking through them, she grins a bit wider. "These are so cute though! We should totally play dress-up with Iggy."

"There's a loquat tree out back if you want to try and lure him with his favorite food. Might just work."

"Have you found anything interesting?"

Pressing a button on the nearby dummy, Henry turns to look at her with a shrug.

"Bur Zah Moo Doe Loo."

"Sure, if you call that interesting."

"Here, let's check out his desk. There's gotta be something interesting on here, right?"

She starts flipping through the calender book on the desk, noting several skull and crossbones on the pages. Weird.

"It's like I really did land in the Pirates movies," she mutters to herself, holding the page for February up for Henry to see. "See? Arrrgh! And then... chateau, which I'm pretty sure is French for castle?"

"Weird." Stepping a bit closer, Henry starts flipping through it, cocking his head with a frown. "Iridescent Pearl, Westbank... Scuttled Bones, Rampart and Dumaine... these are places in New Orleans. Well, the second bits at least. The rest is nonsense. His mind really must have been going toward the end there."

"Look, one of the pirate markings is on May 31st. That's really soon. Oh, and look! Your great-uncle was apparently a real pirate and everything. Part of the, uh... Jolly Rogers krewe? Wow, and it's old, too! From 1952!"

Turning to look at it, Henry takes it from Bess. "Huh."

"What's up?"

"I heard that Gilbert Buford was my great-uncle's best friend, but I kinda almost had trouble believing it. I can't imagine anyone putting up with him for that long. But I guess he did." There's a pause before Henry adds, "He was the guy who pronounced him dead, you know."

"Oh, wow! So he was, like, a real doctor?"

"Oh, yeah. Pretty sure I was dragged to see him a few times after my parents died, too." He stops, eyes going wide as he picks up a picture from off the desk. "Hold up... isn't this pretty much what you were describing?"

It's Bess' turn for her eyes to go wide, jaw briefly dropping before she catches herself. "Holy crap! That's exactly it! That's my skeleton man!" A gasp leaves her, Bess' eyes somehow going even wider. "You don't think I saw Bruno's ghost, do you?"

Henry turns to look at her, clearly baffled at her genius reasoning. "No, because ghosts aren't real. And if they were, I sure as hell wouldn't wanna believe in them." He shakes his head. "Nah, there's a way simpler explanation. One of these guys must have come in here and gotten freaked out when you showed up. I'll give Buford's office a call when we head back down."

Her heart sinks. Oh no... this means the mystery is over, right? As soon as cab service is back, she'll have to leave.

Not that Henry seems to be in any hurry to usher her out the door. Instead, he keeps searching the desk, pulling out drawers in the search of something else interesting.

No reason not to follow suit! Bess tells herself, continuing to firmly ignore the baseball-sized lump in her gut.

"Short Stories for Tired Eyes, by Bruno Bolet," Bess reads out loud, picking up the book. "I didn't know your great-uncle was an author."

"Neither did I. What's in it?"

"Oh, it's all handwritten. Wow. This must have taken him forever. I wonder why he went to all that trouble."

Henry shrugs. "Beats me. Especially since it seems to all be gibberish. Wait a second--" He shakes his head, gesturing at the book. "Flip a few pages back."

"Here?"

"I recognize that," he says, pointing to a strange drawing of what looks a bit like a bunny rabbit with feathered ears. "If you mess with the buzzard heads out back enough, you can get them to look real weird."

"The Key to the Status, the Statues are Key... maybe he meant those buzzard heads? Maybe there are clues in all of these stories!"

As if on cue, the baseball evaporates out of her gut. She might be starting to sound like Nancy, but if it means having a super duper convenient excuse to stay here longer...

"Leave it to Bruno to put together a room of clues for himself. And people think I'm weird."

"Wait!" Turning to face him, Bess grabs hold of his arm to squeeze. "What if they're actually supposed to be clues for you?"

"What? You can't be serious. Why would he leave clues for me?"

"Because! He was your last living relative, but that means that you were also his! Think about it!" Clues seem to fly through her head at lightning speed, like when people solve complicated math equations in television shows in their heads, except that these actually make sense in ways that math equations never do. Now she's even more certain that this must be how Nancy feels when solving her cases. "How did we get here? We had to arrange the portraits in the living room, right?"

"Right..."

"And for that, we had to find the portrait of your parents in the crypt, right?"

"Right..."

"And the key to the crypt was in the little crypt box in the mini cemetery which only opened because I went out and did those tracings out on the crypt so that I could get the code to put in on the roof of the box, and I only thought to track down the source of those tracings because a tracing had already been left out near the fireplace, where I found the coal I needed to do the tracings in the first place! See? It's all connected! I've connected the dots!"

Bess gasps, taking in a sharp inhale after all those words that somehow left her all at once. Considering how hard she was trying to keep the clues from falling out of her head while talking, she's pretty certain that she did a bang-up job of this investigation. So far, anyway.

"Bess, you're a genius."

"I know!" she exclaims, all but hopping up into the air. "Oh, and also, you're not weird at all! Just misunderstood."

"Okay, let's say that all these clues are for me. So what? Where do they lead?"

"I have no idea!" she says, possibly with far too much excitement. "But we're gonna figure it out!"

Bess & Henry: 2, Mystery: 0!

Two hours later, they're several clues and many more questions richer.

Sitting on the floor opposite Henry, both of them cross-legged, Bess is armed with their little makeshift notepad of clues. Between them sits a horrible little box that definitely didn't almost make her pee herself not too long ago.

Henry turns the crank handle again. "D... E... and middle C," he finishes, Bess bracing herself as he does so. This time she was at least prepared for the spider.

"There," she says, holding up the notepad. "That was horrible. In fact, let's never do that again! How did you just know what notes those were, anyway?"

"I have perfect pitch," Henry says, moving to stand and holding his hand out to her to take, which she does all too eagerly. Granted, it was just to help her get off the floor, but still.

"Do youuuu play an instrument, by any chance?"

"My parents paid for me to get piano lessons when I was a kid. Some of it stuck."

"And can you still play?"

He shrugs. "Well enough. But it's not like there's easy access to a piano around here or... pretty much anywhere I am these days."

"That's, um..." Don't say cute. Don't say cute. "Well, you know how it is! With musicians and what they say about... uh... you know, I'm gonna just stop while I'm ahead."

The grin Henry throws her is almost worth all the wincing she's doing right now. Almost.

Okay, so it's definitely worth it, but still! Now she's going to keep thinking about how long his fingers are and what he could-- should be doing with them!

"What about you?"

"Ha, no, definitely not. I'm pretty sure I have two left hands when it comes to any kind of music." Turning her attention to the gumball machine, she turns the lever to no small delight as a gumball actually slides down the chute. "Ooh, gumballs!"

One of them is promptly popped into her mouth.

"Oh man, I can't believe he still has this thing," Henry mutters from behind her. Turning around, Bess watches him walk up to the bowling lane machine. "Have you ever played one of these?"

"Ohhhhh, no. I'm... you know. Bad at..." She gestures with her hands. "... balls."

Again, that grin. Ohhhh, she could fall in love with that grin. Honestly, it's unfair for any boy to be so cute, let alone an unavailable one.

"You're bad at balls?" he asks, grin widening.

"You know what I mean! They don't discriminate between nerds and extremely cute girls in gym class, you know! Dodgeball was not a good time, which is to say nothing of the time that I got pommeled in the face with a baseball. Let me tell you, it hurts!"

"This one is pretty fun. This coming from a guy who also got hit by plenty of dodgeballs growing up. You wanna give it a try?"

Bess huffs. Squinting at the bowling lane machine, she squares her shoulders and walks over.

"Fine. But only because you're advocating for it."

"Works for me."

Situating herself at one end of the machine (the correct end, she's pretty sure), she grabs one of the little balls and tries to roll it into the little goals.

The first one goes wide, flying off into the room, probably never to be seen again.

The second doesn't make it to the end at all, instead just giving up halfway down the lane.

The third ends up overeager, bouncing off the back wall and promptly coming back toward her again, Bess yelping as her hands come up to cover her face.

"Bess, you're doing fine. Look, it just landed in the middle one. Here."

Suddenly, Henry is right behind her, his warm hand folding over hers to gently guide her to roll the ball.

"See? Like this."

The ball goes into the right goal after that, but Bess is entirely certain that she could not properly replicate that result in any meaningful way. She sure wasn't paying any attention while he showed her what to do.

"I, um. I might need a bit more help than that."

Luckily, Henry is a very patient teacher. A very, very patient teacher who just also happens to smell really, really nice.

By the time he's finished, they're even rewarded with an eyeball, which is a really weird prize, honestly.

"What is up with all these eyeballs, anyway? What are we supposed to do with them?"

"Dunno," Henry admits, the two of them continuing to look through the room for any last clues. There's gotta be something else, right?

"Oh, hey."

"Mm?" she asks, turning to look over her shoulder.

"I think we might have found our answer."

He's right. There, right in front of them, right under their noses this whole time, is a large eyeball cabinet, one of them already situated neatly in its spot.

"Huh. That's, uh... kinda a lot of eyeballs to look for, huh?"

"No reason to give up yet," Henry tells her, his gaze warm as he looks over at her. Already his hands are moving, detaching the green eye from its keychain. "Here, I'll add this one in."

"Oh, but-- isn't that one really important to you?"

Henry hesitates. "I'll get it back," he finally says, and slots it into place.

"Okay, so," Bess starts, looking over her notes as she taps her chin with the pencil Henry so graciously lent her. "We gotta somehow get that eyeball out of the dummy, we need loquats to lure Iggy into very adorable dress-up games, we ought to check those weird books that aren't books... look at the clock... we should go check out those buzzard statues... what else..."

"Uh, so, bad news," Henry says, turning to look at where she's sitting on the floor, back against the big carpet barrel. "We can't leave the way we came in."

She stares, Bess' eyes widening as she all but shoots up into a crouch. "What?"

"There's gotta be way out, right?" Leaning back against the desk, feet crossed at his ankles, Henry tucks his thumbs into his pockets. Looking way, way, way too cute. "I mean, it looks like Bruno came here pretty often. He wouldn't just not leave an exit."

"Mnnngh, I knew we should've kept the door propped open!"

"It's fine. We're just gonna need to do some more investigating. Which you seem to be pretty good at."

She huffs out a sigh. "I guess." Picking herself up to join Henry's own investigation, she starts feeling around the wall again, listening where the sound of rain is closest. They are probably not going to have to escape out an outside wall.

Probably.

"I wonder if this radio works," Bess says, picking it up. "We should take it downstairs if we ever find a way out of here and if the electricity ever comes back on."

"Actually." Leaning in, Henry blows some of the dust off the top. "This thing looks really old. Like one of those old farm radios that ran on batteries. I'll see if I can't get it working later."

"You... tinker?"

Henry shrugs, which Bess decides to take as an implicit yes, which is also unfairly attractive. She cannot jump straight to picturing him covered in dirt and motor oil, all but screaming for a shared shower...

"That's really... um, normal! That's a perfectly normal hobby that anyone could have and it wouldn't be weird at all." She clears her throat, willing her body to sink into the ether. "You know, you said something earlier that I've been thinking about. About how ghosts aren't real, but also if they were real, you wouldn't want to believe in them? Yeah, why is that?"

The smile from a second ago disappears as if swept away with the wind, Henry reaching up to straighten out the picture frame on the wall.

"Because it'd mean my parents didn't even care to say goodbye."

Bess feels herself wilt like a flower. She should hug him, right? Oh no, she really wants to hug him.

The chance eludes her. Before she's so much as able to move, Henry's hand seems to catch on the loose lamp holder on the wall, pulling it down to make one of the walls suddenly open.

"Oh, hey. Would ya look at that."

Grabbing her things-- and then the radio-- she slips out the door after him only to falter at the sight of her room... and her lacy things strewn all over the bed. "Um. Ignore all that! Just pretend you didn't--"

Her words are interrupted by a sneeze, Henry shooting her a small, sympathetic smile.

"It's fine, really," he says, and takes the radio off her hands. "Here, I'll take this downstairs to see if I can't make something of it, yeah?"

Bess nods. "I'll be right down! Just... gotta clean up a bit, you know! For the next time a cute boy unexpectedly walks into my room. Haha... ha..."

"Sorry. 'Fraid this time it was just me."

Wait, what?

She must be cursed, or something. He was there one second, and now he isn't, and the worst part is that she didn't even have a chance to catch his expression at the end there! He can't have been serious, right?!

As soon as the door clicks shut, Bess drops her bag, notes included, and allows herself to drop onto the bed face-first.

The noise that escapes her against the sheet beneath her could only possibly be qualified as mournful, and for a second she wonders if she hasn't already messed all of this up, girlfriend or no girlfriend.

Attempting to call Nancy earlier led her straight to voicemail, which could only mean one thing. This time, one change of clothes later, she gets much luckier.

"Nance! Tell me you're finally in New Orleans at least."

"I am. Why, what's wrong?"

"Everything!"

"... what did Henry do this time?"

Allowing herself to drop onto the bed again, this time on her back, Bess groans. "You're not being very supportive, you know." She huffs. "You'll be happy to know that we investigated the secret passageway and I put a bunch of clues together and things are going great! Except that they're also awful because he still has a girlfriend and he's really hard to read. So I don't even know if he'd be interested even if he didn't have a girlfriend! Oh, and I guess we mostly solved the whole skeleton man mystery."

"You did?!"

"Nancy!" Shaking her head at the ceiling, Bess allows her hand to land on her forehead. "Focus! Is that really the most important thing here?"

"Seeing as you were assaulted by someone, yeah, kinda!"

"Ugh. Always so reasonable." Grumbling about it, Bess heaves an exaggerated sigh. "Anyway, it's apparently some... weird group around here, these pirate dudes that like to dress as skeletons? It might have been Henry's great-uncle's best friend, but Henry's still trying to confirm that, and also I have no idea why he'd do that to begin with. Did you get to the hotel?"

"Oh, yeah, I got us all checked in."

Despite her happiness for Nancy, her stomach sinks. "How did you get there? I thought cabs still weren't running!"

"I asked the front desk about that, actually. Apparently most of the city is back to normal, but some of the suburbs-- including the one you're in-- are flooded pretty bad."

Thank goodness, she thinks to herself, and then promptly berates herself for it.

"That... makes sense." A pause. Nancy better still help her from afar. She's the detective, not her. "Did you talk to Ned, by the way?"

"Yeah, he said he wasn't sure if Henry has a girlfriend or not, but that if he does, he's really happy for him, since he always seems so lonely."

She's pretty sure the noise leaving her makes her sound a bit like a dying seal.

"Bess? You there?"

"I'm... there....... sort of... just dying of heartbreak, that's all...... goodbye, Nancy! Goodbye, cruel world! This is the end for me... pet Togo for me just one last time..."

"Bess!"

"It's fine!" she says, loudly enough that she almost wonders if Henry might not have accidentally heard her. Oops. "Let's talk about clues instead. The world of mysteries is way less hopeless than my love life."

No wonder Nancy always pours herself into her mysteries. Bess just can't believe that she actually gets it now too.

"Okay, so midday is obviously noon, and three hours past that..." Nancy trails off. "Bess, are you listening?"

"Huh?" Bess asks, returning to the conversation even as her gaze stays on the Mrs. Bess Bolet now doodled on her makeshift notes. "Yeah! Definitely. Totally listening."

“Bess!”

“Ugh, I’m sorry, Nancy! I’m just so not a riddle gal. Can’t you just tell me what the answers are? Henry and I have enough eyes to find already.”

"You do remember he's still a suspect, right?"

If only Nancy could see her expression right about now, Bess left to scowl at the wall instead. "A suspect?! There's barely even a case here, Nance. I don't think Henry killed his uncle so he could go on a scavenger hunt for clues that he didn't even know existed! Just because you see a case around every corner doesn't mean there actually is one."

A pause. "Your skeleton man? That assaulted you?"

"Oh, that!" Huh. "Why would Henry dress up as his great-uncle's ghost and then freak when someone he technically sort of expected to show up actually showed up? That doesn't make sense."

"All I'm saying is that it's possible we're just not seeing the big picture yet. There's something more going on here, I'm sure of it."

"And I'm sure that Henry is an innocent orphan who has never done anything wrong in his life. Ever."

On the other end of the line, Nancy sighs. “Have you talked to Henry about how you feel yet?”

Has Nancy lost her mind? “What? No! Of course not. Now, if my goal was to get him to reject me as quickly as possible, then that would be a great plan, but… I don’t want that.”

“Then have you at least considered talking to him about his girlfriend?”

“No!” Ugh, Nancy is the worst person to talk to about this, honestly. “Not even Ned knew about Summer, so if I suddenly bring her up he’ll be super suspicious! What am I supposed to say— hey, Henry, I kind of sort of ended up inadvertently listening in on you and learned way more about your personal life than you probably ever wanted me to know, sooo…”

“Look, just call Ned yourself if you think it’ll help. He did say you could call him anytime.”

Okay, now that is maybe not the worst idea in the world.

“Fine. But only once you give up these super secret riddle numbers.”

She ends up leaving Nancy with the request to please keep riddle-ing away while Bess goes off to call Ned and also George.

That second part wasn’t Nancy’s idea, and granted, George has always been way better at girls, but asking her cousin for advice has pretty much never been a bad thing.

The call rings for long enough that Bess is half-convinced that George just isn’t going to pick up, but then a very tired-sounding George does actually come through from the other end.

“Huh? What?”

“George! I know you’re busy with your internship and all, but I need your expertise on how someone might not screw up a... complicated relationship situation.”

There’s a long pause.

“Isn’t that more your forte…? Bess, do you have any idea what time it is?”

“Uhhh, yeah!” Pulling up her watch, she nods to herself. “It’s just after seven p.m.”

More silence.

“It’s three in the morning here. I’m going back to bed.”

Oh, right. Shoot. Estonia is in the future, isn’t it? Rats.

"Call me when you wake up, it's important!"

Ned, thankfully, is easier to reach. Not that she's particularly surprised by this fact. What does Ned even do all day besides wait for Nancy to call him?

"Bess! Nancy told me you might call."

"Good, because this is important."

"So what's going on with Henry? Is he doing okay?"

Bess is pretty sure that Nancy already went through all of this with Ned, but there's zero reason why she can't weasel potentially more information out of Ned by telling him herself. Possibly even information he doesn't even know he knows.

Yet.

"Oh, you know how it is when your last living relative dies. He's doing about as well as can be expected."

On the other end of the line, Ned lets out a chuckle. "Hey, I hear ya. It's gotta be rough on the guy. Can't have been easy for him, finding out about that. But he's always been sorta... I dunno, reclusive? So I really wouldn't have ever guessed without him telling me."

"What made you decide to... you know, send Nancy to check on him?"

"Well, you two were going to New Orleans anyway, so I figured, two birds and one stone, you know?" A pause. "You know, I never liked that saying much. Seems very violent against our feathered friends."

"So you... don't actually really know Henry all that well?"

"Eh, not really. I just kinda feel sorry for the guy."

Wow, Ned. Bess pulls the phone away from her ear to stare at it for a moment in dumbfounded astonishment before returning her attention to the call. "So you... what, just told Nancy to go out of pity?"

"No! Well-- I mean, sorta, I guess. He just always seems really lonely, you know?"

He wouldn't be so lonely if you tried to be his friend, Ned! Bess thinks to herself, narrowing her eyes.

"Mm-hmm."

"But I heard from Nancy that he might have a girlfriend?"

Yeah, the bane of my existence. Bess sighs. "Yeah. Her name is apparently Summer. I just don't know how happy he really is. Seems like kinda a stressful thing more than a happy true-love-ever-after thing, you know?"

"Hmm, that makes sense, I guess. I can't imagine what sort of person Henry would even date, but..."

"So you really don't know anything about her?"

She just hopes she sounds appropriately desperate.

"I mean... I guess I could ask some of the guys to see if they know anything."

"Would you? Because that would be great!"

Ned laughs, clearly not taking this nearly as seriously as Bess is. "Sure thing. I'll ask around, see if anyone knows anything about this Summer person."

"How do you know Henry, anyway?"

"Just from class. We're both in the same 19th century French lit course."

A snort leaves her. "You're taking French lit?"

"I thought I could stand to be a bit more cultured! We chemical engineering grads don't exactly get out much."

She hesitates. "Is that what he is? Henry, I mean. Is he a chemical engineering grad too?"

"Nah, I doubt that'd be Henry's sorta thing. He's the literature guy. You should ask him about it, you know. I'm sure he doesn't get the chance to talk about himself a whole lot."

That does sound about right.

"All right. I can work with that. But you best keep me updated, Nickerson!"

Ned laughs. "Don't worry! I'll call back soon."

Armed with the promise of new knowledge on the horizon, Bess heads back downstairs to rejoin Henry, a slight spring in her step.

That is, until the sound of Henry's voice stops her dead in her tracks just outside the library.

"Look, I'm sorry about how I've been acting. I--" He stops, exhaling sharply. His words disappear, replaced by singular sounds of assent.

"I know you've been bored without me there, I've just-- yes, I know that too-- I've been under a lot of pressure, that's all."

Ohhhh, she shouldn't be here! And not only because it's driving her absolutely batty not being able to hear the other end of the conversation!

"No, I don't know. Maybe another week--" There's an immediate pause before Henry rushes in to reassure yet again. "Shorter! It'll definitely be shorter than that. I'll make it happen, okay? Whatever it takes. My great-uncle has just kind of left a huge mess on my hands here."

More noises of agreement. Bess feels herself pout. He'd better not rush through this just because of this girl who probably definitely doesn't appreciate him. They have a mystery to solve still!

"I mean, look, you never know. It might take even less time. There's this girl here that's been helping me--"

A girl? That's her, right? Bess wills herself to step away, and fails instantly and utterly. She's an eavesdropper. Guilty as charged.

"No!" Henry says, loud enough to make Bess' eyes widen as she steps back from the door slightly. "No, it's-- it's nothing like that. This guy I know just sent her here to check up on me."

Oh.

"There's nothing between us, I swear. I love you, okay? Just you."

Each and every one of Henry's words feel like individual knife wounds stabbed into her heart, over and over again.

She decides to take that moment to step into the library.

"I promise, I--" Seeing her enter, Henry quickly looks away. "Hey, Summer? I actually need to call you back later--"

This time, she's close enough to hear the voice on the other end of the line, or at least the volume.

"I promise I'll send you some more as soon as I can, okay? I just... can't get into town right now, that's all." He lets out a sigh, closing his eyes. "I'll call you back soon, okay? Bye."

The call ends, silence stretching thin between them. Bess chews on her bottom lip, gently rocking back and forth on her heel.

"Girlfriend trouble?"

Henry has the decency to at least look sheepish.

"Something like that."

Hesitating a beat, Bess folds her hands in front of herself as she takes a few steps into the room. "Is everything okay? Do you wanna talk about it?"

The conflict that crosses Henry's features is obvious.

“It’s fine.”

Oh no, not that again!

“I’m not making trouble for you, am I?”

His eyes go wide. “No! No, not at all. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

You’re a bad liar, Henry, Bess thinks to herself. She should be happy about that, honestly, but…

“Look, I need to get back to work.”

“But what about the clues? I thought we were doing that together…”

The surprise in his eyes speaks for itself, as if he’d entirely forgotten all about the fun they had while talking to Summer. “We can still do that. Just…”

A lot less. She can read between the lines.

“Did you at least get to reach Dr. Buford?”

“Oh. Yeah. Well— I reached his answering service. Wouldn’t give me any additional information, either.”

“Oh.” She sighs, willing herself to somehow remain cheerful against all odds. “I guess that’s that, then.”

“For now, anyway.”

For now.

The rain that hits her as soon as she steps out feels like an accurate reflection of her mood in that moment.

Heaving a big sigh, Bess puts on a brave face and makes her way over to Renée.

That shovel…

“Well, if it isn’t Henry’s little girlfriend.”

Something inside of her withers.

“I am not his girlfriend. He wouldn’t even want me to— I’m not even interested in— why would I be interested in Henry?!”

Renée doesn’t look like she’s buying it for even a second, one skeptically arched brow preceding her once-over of Bess.

“You two just seemed awful chummy lately. Kinda surprised he’s not with you now, honestly.”

She huffs to conceal the sigh buried beneath. “Well, he’s not. Because there’s nothing there.” Eager to move on from this particular topic, Bess continues. “Um, so! Your room— which is, um, obviously lovely— has these weird symbols on the wall written in what I’m pretty sure is blood?”

Renée stares at her.

“So, I guess my question is if you already knew that was there or if this place is just… super duper uber-haunted.”

“I did indeed. I painted those symbols myself.”

“In blood?” Bess hears herself whisper, eyes wide.

“Of course not. I just used plain ol’ red paint.”

“That… would make more sense, I guess.” Boring as it seems, she vastly prefers this over the thought of Renée sacrificing chickens in her room. “But… how did you know to paint exactly those symbols?”

Renée doesn’t seem to miss a beat. “Fact of the matter is, there’s a spirit living in that wall.”

"What?"

She was kind of hoping for this to prove the place less haunted, not more!

“Got a voice that’d send shivers down the spine of Dracula himself. Used to hear it sometimes in the dead of night, half-talking, half-whispering, saying this one word I never heard before, like it was from a language no one on earth spoke. And suddenly I knew— the spirit was trying to cast a spell on me.”

Oh, if only Nancy were here right now. She’d just brush this off as hokum and call it good.

Renée continues, clearly uncaring of how much she may or may not traumatize Bess in the process. “So I got me a book, and found out that by painting the word I heard on the wall, syllable by syllable, I could counteract the word’s power. And you know what? The spirit has not spoken that word, or any other, since.”

“… what was the word?”

“Darling, a sack full of water moccasins couldn’t get me to say that word out loud. Nor will I write it down, no, sir. Not ever ever ever."

Despite her curiosity at what sort of inhuman word Renée supposedly heard— curiosity really is more Nancy’s forte-- she has no interest in dying anytime soon.

"You know, that is... very fair. I probably wouldn't either!" She clears her throat. "Anyway! I'm off, and--"

"Just so you know," Renée says, cutting into her exit and prompting Bess to turn to face her again. "I don't like that trashy girlfriend of his either."

Bess stares, her mind reeling. "You-- you don't?" Wait, doesn't she hate Henry? "What do you know about her? Or-- uh, them?"

"Quite a bit. Like I already said, I notice everything."

Hook, line, sinker. Bess feels like a particularly hungry and gullible fish, and yet she desperately wants more information on this. "And?"

"That boy is a fool. He will just give that girl whatever she wants, whenever she wants. I'm pretty sure she could tell him to jump into Lake Pontchartrain and he'd just do it, no questions asked."

"... is it really that bad?" A pause. "How do you know?"

"Henry's not exactly quiet when he talks on the phone, and I'm right next to that window where he's sitting. I hear their squabbles clear as day."

"Oh. Wow." She might want to tell Henry about that, actually. It seems like the sort of thing that he would want to know. "Um. Do you know why he's... so eager to make her happy?"

"Lord only knows what makes that boy do anything at all." She shakes her head. "Henry might be a doormat, but that girl is madder than a wet hen."

She can't say that she's ever heard that saying before, but she gets the general idea. "Okay..."

"Wouldn't surprise me if he got the deed to the house and signed it right over to her. By the way--"

That seems kinda dire. Hopefully Ned has some better news for her soon... even if she has to admit, it feels kinda skeevy to be finding out all this stuff about Henry's relationship from people that aren't him.

Then again, would he just... share, just like that?

Considering how quickly he ushered her out of their conversation, there's definitely no way he would just offer her a full run-down of his personal life, no matter how curious she might be.

"-- so you'd best be careful," Renée finishes, Bess clocking in a bit too late to whatever she was just saying. And she definitely was saying something, considering the severe look in her eyes now.

Oops.

"You know me, always super careful!" She lets out an awkward chuckle as something else registers in her mind. "Wait. If you already know he's got a girlfriend, why did you call me his girlfriend?"

The question gets Bess another once-over. "Like I said... it just seemed to me like the two of you had gotten to be... close."

However Renée feels about that fact, it's obviously not a good thing in her mind.

"Well, not anymore," she grumbles, letting out a sigh as she makes her exit from the conversation.

"So there I was, just innocently trying to pick a loquat for Henry's great-uncle's iguana-- which, now that I'm thinking about it, makes it Henry's iguana now, right? Anyway, the point is, I nearly died, Nancy!"

"What?"

Nancy's general lack of alarm is admittedly ameliorated somewhat: in the background, over the sound of rain on both ends of the call, is jazz music, lilting and lovely.

"Wasps! Everywhere! They want to kill anyone who gets too close! Between that and the resident spider in the fountain, I'm pretty sure this place is just cursed. Oh, that reminds me-- have I told you that apparently someone tried to curse Renée?"

"You definitely haven't."

"Yeah, apparently there was this word that some spirit kept saying through the wall at her, trying to cast a spell, and she drew these symbols on the wall to make it stop and it worked!"

The skepticism in Nancy's voice is immediately obvious. "That... probably had less to do with those symbols and more to do with coincidence."

"You don't know! It might've just worked. Maybe magic and curses and true love are all real!" After a brief pause, Bess continues, all too aware of the fact that Nancy isn't about to believe in any of those things. "Are you out and about New Orleans? Do not tell me you're going shopping without me."

"Of course not!" A beat. "Well, not really."

"Nancy!"

"Bess, relax! I'm not going clothes shopping. There's a gumbo stand just across the street from our hotel, and I was feeling hungry."

Now that she mentions it, Bess could also definitely eat. If only they had access to delicious food truck gumbo over here too.

"Then I realized," Nancy continues, "that it was right by this curio shop, Zeke's, and thought I'd check it out."

Bess' eyes widen, immediately scrambling for the half-burnt receipt in her bag. "Wait, did you just say Zeke's?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Because! There was a receipt in the fireplace here for a place called Zeke's! It was mostly burned, but you can just barely see the ID number... ah, here it is! It's number 21-3872."

"That's great, Bess! I'll go check it out, all right?"

"Sure. And in the meantime, I will try not to die by wasp."

Trudging back into the house, Bess carefully takes off her shoes and squeezes the water out of her skirt before closing the door.

"Whew! Some weather out there, huh."

When there's no immediate response, she almost fears that Henry isn't going to acknowledge her at all-- but then he glances over his shoulder at her.

"Oh, you're back."

Just as quickly as his attention was on her, it disappears again, Bess worrying her bottom lip. She debates continuing the conversation for a moment before stepping closer to him.

"Sooo, I know you're really busy and all, but I did almost die to a massive swarm of wasps justs now, so if you are at all invested in my continued survival, you should totally help me out." A beat. "You know, if you have a moment."

At least that seems to capture his full attention, Henry turning to look at her. "Wait, what do you mean, you almost died?"

"I wanted to get a loquat for Iggy! They were very unhappy about it."

She can practically watch the internal conflict playing out on Henry's features, clearly debating with himself the merits of appeasing his girlfriend versus saving her life. By the time that he emerges, he at least seems to have decided in favor of Bess' life.

"Come on, I think there's some kind of bug spray out there that can put them to sleep..."

"While we're going out, there's also that one spider thing that I'm not too keen to get too close to either..."

"Oh, I remember."

A hint of a smile crosses his features, but it’s gone as soon as it dared to appear.

It's still pelting them with warm rain when they head back out, Henry's shirt clinging to his chest before long.

"Be careful... you don't want to die in the name of loquat retrieval either..."

"It's really not that big a deal."

"Easy for you to say," Bess mutters, watching Henry pick up the bug sprayer inconspicuously leaning against the tree.

"See? You just... spray this at the nest before they can get angry about you encroaching on their territory."

It's true, his handling of the bug sprayer proves to be very competent and not at all liable to get them both killed. Not for the first time since her arrival here, she's grateful for Henry's presence.

"Here," he finally says, carrying back a loquat for her to take.

"Maybe... grab a couple," she says, gratefully taking it. "Just in case."

Armed with one more eye and several loquats, they head back into the house, this time into the kitchen. Even if there's no power, Henry reasons, it's still the best place to keep the loquats hidden away from Iggy.

"It's also the best place to find some food to eat," Bess adds, this time before her stomach starts growling.

"Renée has been making things for herself," Henry says, looking through one of the kitchen cupboards in search of cans, "but of course she's not about to cook for anyone else-- or should I say, not me."

"She hasn't been cooking for me either, if that helps."

He sighs, reemerging from his crouch to place two cans on the counter. "She probably just thinks you're in league with me."

A snort leaves her, unbidden, as if to prevent her from just plain agreeing with the claim.

"Anyway, sorry that this is all there is," he says, grabbing two bowls and a can opener for the two of them. "Normally I'd at least be able to cook something, but it's kinda slim pickings right now."

"That's fine! I'm sure it'll be delicious, even cold."

Turning to look up at her, Henry looks more than a little puzzled at her words. “It’s just canned ravioli.”

“So? Gotta make the best of what we’ve got, right? Besides, I’m sure it’ll be, um... plated with love.” Wait, no. "Bowled with love? Not sure if that works as well..."

The bafflement is back. Maybe she should walk that statement back? Then again, it’s the sort of thing she’d say to any of her other friends too, and it certainly wouldn’t come with a romantic context attached there.

Gratefully accepting her bowl, she digs in. "Mm-- see?" she says around a mouthful of food before swallowing it down. "Even good cold!"

They eat in silence for the vast majority of the meal, both clearly more than a little hungry after going as long without food as they have.

“Mm! I meant to ask,” she asks from behind her hand as she takes time to finish chewing. “What ever happened with that radio?”

Her words seem to remind him of its existence, Henry’s eyes widening as he sets down his bowl.

“Hang on a sec, I’ll just show you.”

He returns only a moment later, placing the radio down onto the kitchen counter and turning it on.

“Obviously it’s still gonna be real crackly and staticky, but…”

Henry’s right: there does seem to be some sound coming through.

She keeps watching him fiddle with the knobs until an unexpected jazzy tune filters through.

“Oh, holy crap. I didn't expect that to actually work.”

“Thanks a lot for the vote of confidence,” Henry tells her, making her snort.

“You know what I mean! This thing is ancient.”

The music shifts slightly, suddenly clearer.

“Is that… Frank Sinatra?”

Henry listens, then nods. “I’ve got you… under my skin,” he mutters along to the song before switching to gently humming it, his finger tapping along with the beat on the counter.

“Man, I haven't heard this song in forever. Pretty sure my parents danced to this at their wedding.” Almost subconsciously, she starts moving back and forth in her seat, swaying to the music. “I wish I’d ever learned to dance to music like this.”

“You don’t really have to learn anything. Just… gotta move your body to the music.”

Hopping off her stool, Bess decides to follow his directions, allowing her eyes to close all while swaying in place, spinning on her heels, moving back and forth— only to suddenly feel herself impact another body, her eyes shooting open.

“Oh, sorry—!”

She’s about to pull away when he takes her hand, spinning her around in her spot.

“Oh—“

“See? Easier than it sounds, right?”

Not in the least.

Now that she’s in her current position, she’s forgotten how to even move her feet, Bess allowing herself to be moved.

“I can lead,” he tells her, clearly hoping to reassure her. "Look, boarding school and military school and all those places might have really sucked, but at least they bothered teaching me some things that don't totally suck."

Offering him a smile, she nods.

“Lead… away?”

He does so. Silly as she might look while doing this, Henry is a good teacher (not that she didn’t already know that), allowing her to color outside the lines with her movements.

And whenever she gets a bit too excited, he catches her.

She laughs, grinning up at him. “This is way more fun than I thought it would be. Any other rad dance moves you wanna teach me?”

“… just one, really.”

He doesn't move, though, his gaze falling to his phone on the kitchen counter.

Right.

Stepping back, she offers him a terse smile. "Thank you for the dance. Clearly I should have taken you to my prom. Would have made that whole night way more fun."

Henry switches off the radio, Bess watching as he shifts his attention back to his bowl to rinse out in the sink. He's about to turn to leave when Bess’ hand moves to his forearm to stop him.

“Wait!” Dial it back, Marvin. No need to freak the guy out any more than she already has. Her hand falls from his arm. “I need to tell you something.”

For a split second, Henry looks at her as though she’s a grenade set to explode any second, pin long pulled.

“… what is it?”

“Um.” Oh, he's going to be so unhappy to learn this. Why should she have to be the one to break the news to him, anyway? Renée is the one snooping here. She should apologize to Henry, if anything!

But Renée isn’t here. Just Bess.

“You… might… want to stop talking to your girlfriend in the library?” She winces even as she says it. “Renée has kinda… been listening in. A lot.”

Shock gives way to mortification before some manner of realization seems to strike him.

“That… doesn’t surprise me.”

“What?”

“Renée doesn't like me, remember? This is exactly the sort of thing she'd do just to spite me. Plus, she's made... comments."

"Comments," Bess repeats, looking up at Henry even as his own gaze remains on the kitchen counter, the floor, anywhere other than on her. "What kinda comments?"

"Snide ones suggesting she knew more than she let on." He looks like he's about to say something else when he suddenly changes his mind. "Anyway, I'm gonna go back to work. Thanks for the tip."

"Um. Sure."

She can't even fault him for his reticence to speak. There have to be a million and one things that she wants to talk to him about, ask him about, and yet, none of the words seem willing to leave her throat.

Maybe she should just leave him to his relationship. Maybe that would be better for everyone involved. He's obviously lost interest in their eye hunt, so-- what is she even still doing here? They don't even know what's supposed to be on the other end of their riddle rainbow.

Pulling her phone out of her purse, she calls the cab company, not sure whether she feels relieved or otherwise when the message on the other end tells her that there still isn't any service in her current zip code.

She ends up washing the dishes for Henry even as night falls, making it increasingly difficult to see any stains. Where the rain had already blocked out any hope of light during the day, the night is only lent clarity with each and every lightning strike outside.

Boy oh boy, is she ever glad she's not afraid of thunderstorms!

Bess' ringtone for Ned sounds out throughout the kitchen, and Bess decides to abandon the last plate she'd been drying off in favor of just setting it down on the counter.

This is important.

"Ned! Please tell me you've been a good snoop. Nancy's talents gotta have rubbed off on you at least a little, right? Right?"

"Haha, easy, Bess! Even a Nickerson can only investigate so much at any given time."

"But you have learned something?"

She might need to lower her volume a bit. The last thing she wants is for Henry and Renée both to overhear her intrusion into Henry's privacy.

Ned sighs. "Yes, but-- okay, listen. You gotta promise me to take this with a grain of salt, all right?"

Oh, so this is gonna be juicy. "Consider me as salted as the Drew driveway in winter!"

Judging by the second heaved sigh Ned lets out, he's clearly somewhat doubtful. Thankfully, it doesn't seem to hold him back.

"That's... pretty salted. Okay, fine. But don't forget what I said. All of this might not even be true. It kinda... comes from a friend of a friend of a friend, that kinda thing."

"Ugh, Ned! Spill the beans already, please!"

On the other end, Ned laughs. "All right, all right! So, apparently Summer confided in one of her friends that she can get anything she wants out of Henry."

"Like... what kind of things?"

"Well, mostly just that. You know, things. Whatever she asks for, Henry just... buys it for her. And it seems like she's asking for quite a lot. Honestly, from the sounds of it, it wouldn't surprise me if she wasn't just... trying to ask for a little bit more every time, feeling out how much Henry will put up with. And if there's no upper limit..."

"She'll just keep asking for more, huh." That's objectively awful. Bess pulls a face. "So she's just taking advantage of him?"

"Seems like it. Whether or not he knows that... I have no clue."

"I overheard one of their phone conversations-- or like, half of one, since I only heard Henry's side. Although I did enter partway through the conversation... so maybe a third? Anyway, my point is, Henry definitely sounded like he was reassuring her about how he didn't have money now, but that he totally would, and that she didn't need to worry."

"... yikes. No offense to Henry, that doesn't sound great."

"You're telling me!" She pulls a face, hopping up onto the kitchen counter to let her legs dangle. "I don't think he knows how evil his girlfriend is."

"Well, I don't know that I'd call her evil."

"I would! She's taking advantage of a poor orphan boy who just lost his last living relative, Ned! If that isn't evil, I don't know what is! Maybe if she's also ignoring puppies that want to be pet..."

"So, what are you gonna do?" Ned asks, possibly to prevent her from going down an endless list of theoretical offenses. "Are you gonna talk to Henry about all this?"

That is a very good question.

"I... don't know."

On the one hand, it's not really any of her business. On the other...

The thought of letting him stay in this toxic relationship, unaware of just how awful it is for him, feels just plain wrong.

She's halfway up the stairs when Nancy calls her, Bess stopping there to sit down on the wooden stairs.

"Bess, you are not going to believe this. I just left Zeke's."

What is it with people leaving her with cliffhangers today?

"And?!"

"Henry definitely sold some things to the owner. He wouldn't tell me what was sold, so I found a way to sneak into the back of the shop."

"Nancy!" Leave it to Nancy to go straight to doing the most illegal thing possible in the name of snooping. If she was there, there's no way she could have found a way to break and enter into the back of the shop. "You know I can't come over there and bail you out of jail, right? At least not until this area stops flooding."

"Don't worry, I'll be fine. I always am."

"Mrrrr... okay, what did you find out?"

"The box that Henry sold included a smaller box with an intricate lock on it, a picture of Bruno with his dog, Grant, a picture of an iguana wearing a pirate costume, and a skeleton man costume."

"Who names their dog Grant?"

Nancy breezes right past her perfectly valid question. "I managed to get the box open, and inside I found a letter about how the skull called The Whisperer now belonged to Bruno. And the box also had a skull-shaped indentation in it."

"What?"

Her mind reels. Is that what they're looking for? One of these legendary crystal skulls?

"I'll call Hotchkiss again tomorrow and ask her about what she knows about this... Whisperer."

More importantly, should she be telling Henry about this?

"How are things going on your end?"

"Awful, if you can believe it. Henry's avoiding me, which would be fine-- if extremely heartbreaking-- if Ned hadn't found out that he's being treated horribly by his girlfriend. Nancy, she's just using him!"

"And?"

"And?!" Honestly, it's a darn good thing that it's her here instead of Nancy! If Nancy was investigating this place, she'd probably completely ignore what Henry is dealing with and just leave him to suffer. "I can't just turn a blind eye!" A beat passes, Bess whispering meaningfully. "I could fix him, Nancy."

"Bess..." On the other end of the phone, Bess hears her sigh. "Is getting involved really such a good idea?"

"I'm not like you! I can't just go places, solve mysteries, and then leave without making sure everyone is happier than before I arrived! It'd just be wrong."

"So you're going to finally talk to Henry about his girlfriend issues?"

That's the million dollar question, isn't it? "I... maybe. Maybe not. Maybe I haven't decided yet."

"Oh, before I forget. I found a book on hoodoo symbols at Zeke's, so if you can tell me what those symbols on Renée's wall look like, I'll probably be able to look up what word she thought was trying to curse her!"

"Nancy, that's great! Wait-- no it isn't. I already gave Renée's key back to her."

Those were definitely the wrong words to say. Of course this sort of thing would unlock Nancy's excitement for snooping even by proxy. Like a sleeper agent who only wakes up when hearing the word locked.

"So find a way to get it back! You already found a reason to go in there before, maybe Renée will just let you do it again! Or you can pick the lock, and--"

"Nancy!" she interrupts, scrunching up her face. "I'm not going to pick any locks!"

"Then something else! Just do whatever you need to do to get back into that room!"

Definitely a sleeper agent situation.

"I'm going to talk to Henry now. And if he decides we should break into Renée's room, I'll consider it. But I won't be happy about it."

"That's the spirit! You can do it, Bess!"

She ends the call before Nancy can come up with additional snoopy things for her to do, Bess sighing as she makes her way back to the library.

Time to talk to Henry. Properly.

Instead of talking to Henry, Bess ends up just walking straight through the library and into the backyard.

Maybe she's just meant to be wet forever. Perpetually damp in all the worst places.

Ducking under the roof of Renée's little greenhouse, she clears her throat to get her attention.

"Hello again."

"Um, hello! Sooo... I've been kinda dreaming of those Koko Kringle bars since I had one yesterday, and, I guess I was wondering! If I might be able to go back up and grab another one! If it's not too much trouble, I mean."

"Well bless your heart." Renée laughs. "I'll tell you what. As long as you're going up there anyway, my appetite could use a little placating, so I would be much obliged if you would bring me a candy bar as well."

"Of course! You got it! You know how it is with chocolate and the... the yearning..."

Grabbing the key from Renée, she all but races back inside, hopefully just looking like a lunatic eager to get her hands on more chocolate as quickly as possible.

"Henry!" she whispers as urgently as she can.

"What?"

"Come with me, and shhhh!"

For some reason, when Bess grabs his hand and tugs him toward the door, Henry complies.

Doesn't even question it.

She doesn't speak again until the door closes and they're en route up the stairs, turning back to look at Henry, eyes bright.

"Sorry, I didn't want Renée to hear us. But we should be good now!"

"Where exactly are we going?"

"We're investigating." Henry's hand is let go only once they reach Renée's door, Bess deftly unlocking the door. "Nancy told me that she got a book on hoodoo symbols that might be kinda like the ones Renée has written on her wall, but-- this place is super creepy, so I didn't want to go alone."

"I've never even been in there," he says as Bess unlocks the door for the two of them. "Pretty sure Renée had a lock installed just to keep me out whenever I was here for more than a day."

The door closes behind them, oddly heavy in her hand as the latch clicks into place. "So... when that happened, you'd just... sleep on the couch? That's so sad."

"They're not all bad. Just got worse after I got... taller."

"No kidding."

He's quiet for a long moment, Henry turning to look out the window, rain pelting the glass. Outside, lightning flashes, a clap of thunder following right after.

"Couldn't even tell you why she was so desperate to keep me out of here," Henry says, turning back to face her again. "Not like there's anything weird in here."

Bess stares, gesturing intently at the wall behind her. "Um, I assume you mean other than the weird blood writing on the wall, right?"

"Yeah, I guess that part's kinda weird. But no, I meant-- stuff someone like me could use against her. Or stuff I'd wanna steal. There's nothing really even in here aside from... what normally goes in a bedroom."

"Hey, you never know! There could be bombs in this chest."

There's no need at all to get into the chest. Technically-- well, okay, so she definitely hasn't gotten what she needs out of the room yet, but does that really matter in the name of snooping?

Nancy would snoop through Renée's things.

"We should find out," she says, crouching down in front of it.

"Hey, uh-- are you sure we should be doing this?"

"It's fine! She's not gonna come up here. Nancy does this sort of thing all the time, and she hasn't died or been arrested even once!"

Oh, this is an annoying memory puzzle. This isn't even hard, it's just tedious.

"Ned's girlfriend, right? What's she like?"

Oh, so they're talking about girlfriends now?

"Snoopy. Um... sleuthy, you know. If she wants to know something, she's going to find a way to figure it out, whether people like it or not. Aha! One down. Anyway, she's not always the most... diplomatic, especially not when she's in the middle of a mystery. You got lucky you ended up with me. She would have been relentless."

"I wouldn't have expected Ned to... I dunno, be with someone so... headstrong. He said she travels a lot?"

"Oh yeah, all the time. I think she's on the road more than she is at home." Bess watches the second image unlock with a grin. "Yesss, two down!"

After a moment of contemplation, Henry speaks again.

"Are they, you know. Happy together?"

The question makes her stop, Bess turning to look up at him over her shoulder. "... why do you ask?"

"No reason. Forget I said anything."

His words leave him fast enough that she knows they're not the truth.

"Are you and Summer... not happy together?" she asks, turning back to the chest as if the lack of eye contact might help Henry feel more comfortable and therefore more liable to talk about his feelings.

A soft noise leaves him. "Not sure that I could tell you, honestly."

Pressing the last button, she watches the third image to unlock and disappear. "... because of her, or because you don't know how you feel?"

"It's just-- she's so unpredictable, it drives me nuts."

"What sort of... things has she done?" Bess asks, focused intensely on the last few buttons as if she doesn't already know the answer.

"I just never know what's gonna make her happy. Like, just before I left, I took practically every bit of cash I had and bought her a bunch of CDs-- you know, to keep her occupied while I was gone, right? Well, soon as I get here she calls and says her sound system just went blooey and I had to buy her a new one because what good were the CDs I bought her if she couldn't play them? So then I..."

The last button is just waiting to be pressed, Bess nevertheless staying her hand. If she opens the chest now, the moment will just be gone, and that will be all she wrote.

Henry wavers, as if debating what to tell her before he forges on. "I wired her the money, but then she called and said she also needed new headphones. Next call it was new speakers. And now she expects me to buy her a flat screen TV! When I try to talk to her about always wanting more like that, she gets really mad. But I'm afraid if I don't give her what she wants she'll-- I'm afraid she'll dump me. And I couldn't take that. I mean, she's the only girlfriend I've ever had. Ever will have, probably."

The chest opens, silence settling between them like a blanket. All of the platitudes passing through her head now feel hollow in light of his words.

Shifting in her seat, Bess turns far enough to look at Henry. Far enough to see that he's deliberately avoiding looking back at her.

"I don't... think that's true."

"What do you mean?"

"Just... what I said. You make it sound like you're this unloveable guy when you're really not."

A mirthless chuckle leaves him. "Pretty sure you're the only one who thinks that."

"No, I'm serious! If you let people in, it's only a matter of time before they see how great you are! Take Ned, for instance. He didn't know you that well, and now that he learned a little bit about you, he's already your friend."

Henry sighs. "Ned doesn't know me. He just sent his girlfriend down here to 'check up on me' out of pity."

Well, he's not wrong about that. "Okay, so maybe Ned was a bad example! But like-- I know that I've made things harder for you, and you probably think I'm really annoying by now, but... I'd like for you to think of me as a friend."

That draws his gaze, Henry stopping to stare at her, long enough for her to start worrying that she didn't inadvertently break him. "Henry?"

"I don't think that."

"What?"

"I don't think you're annoying at all."

"Maybe crazy is the more appropriate term. But the point is-- you're great! You've been nothing but kind to me ever since I came here even if I have been acting a little crazy. You just let me sleep in your bed without even mentioning that you'd be sleeping on the couch! And you are like, way taller than me. Compared to the couch, I mean. And that's not even all! Ned said you're studying French lit?"

Whatever he was about to say, it seems to have fallen out of his head. After a moment, Henry blinking himself out of his thoughts, he speaks.

"Uh, yeah. Well-- that's the class I took with Ned, anyway. I'm not limiting myself to just French lit. I'm more interested in the Gothic stuff-- Gothic Romance, specifically."

Bess' eyes widen. "Romance?"

"Uh, not... that kind. The capital 'R' kind. I actually just finished teaching a class on Poe last semester."

"Wait, Ned didn't tell me you teach!"

"I guess he also didn't tell you that I'm a grad student, huh? Just kinda confirms what I was saying earlier, though."

"No!" Bess huffs, pulling a face. "You're kind and compassionate and apparently also super smart, not to mention seriously attractive-- anyone would be lucky to be your friend or your girlfriend! And I'd know-- trust me, I have personal experience in being a girlfriend."

Wait.

"I-- I mean, not right now, anyway, but like, in the past! Not that... you asked, or anything! Just, you know, throwing it out there. That I've got loads of experience being a girl. And a friend. And obviously I've been a girlfriend-- aaaaanyway..." Clearing her throat, she turns her attention back to the chest. "So! Interesting chest, huh!"

Not that she's paying attention. Sure, she's going through the books in here-- one on hoodoo, one on practical magic, one on magic with herbs, but it's a harried thing. Even the pouch of... what has to be some kind of ingredient for... something or other, is quickly put aside, at least until she finds--

"Wait... does this guy look familiar to you?" she asks, holding up a small, hand-sewn cloth doll, several pins struck through it.

Henry takes it, frowning as he looks it over. "I mean, this is... really old."

He's not wrong. The doll is worn out, stained, and borderline disfigured. The button eyes differ from one another, clearly having been re-sewn on multiple times.

"I guess it could be Bruno, but..."

"Um... how exactly... did he die?" Bess feels herself wincing from asking the question alone.

"Just... dropped dead in the front hallway. I mean the guy was ninety-five years old. Myocardial infarction. Doctor speak for heart attack."

"That pin is right through where the heart would be, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

Well. That doesn't look great.

"Hang on, I'll put it back so she doesn't know we were here." Taking the doll back, Bess stops halfway before turning back to Henry. "You don't think she could have... caused his heart attack, do you?"

Henry seems to consider this, seriously enough to make Bess worry that there might be some merit to her theory.

"I wouldn't put it past her. She always claimed to like my great-uncle, but... I don't really know her all that well, and not even for lack of trying. She just never wanted anything to do with me."

"I'm sorry, Henry. You didn't deserve any of that." Shaking her head to herself, Bess puts the chest back as it was before closing it again. "All right. Now all we need to do is... write down the weird blood message and grab ourselves some chocolate." Turning to face Henry, she huffs with conviction. "You're getting some too, whether Renée likes it or not."

"All right, so that's... bah, zah, loo, pah, dee, moo, kah. According to Nancy, anyway."

Henry stays with her all through her subsequent phone call with Nancy, which ends up being very brief and solely focused on hoodoo symbols. Now, back in the attic, Henry shows no sign of slowing his interest in their little investigation.

It's making her happier than she dares to admit.

He makes her happy.

The sigh that leaves her is thankfully inaudible as Henry presses the 'TALK' button on the dummy, allowing it to emit what is indeed a kinda horrifying sequence of noises.

With a pop, the eyeball is released from the dummy, Henry catching it.

"Nice!" Bess pumps her fist into the air with a totally not-crazy level of enthusiasm. "I don't know how, but that definitely would have hit me if I had been supposed to catch it."

"Hang on-- there's something else in here."

Reaching into the eye-hole-- only a slightly uncomfortable thing to watch-- Henry pulls out what looks like a coin and a piece of paper, carefully unfolding the latter.

"What's it say? Are there more clues?"

He shakes his head. "Not... exactly. Well, sort of. It's for sure sending us on a scavenger hunt."

"Oh? What are we scavenger hunting?"

He sighs, holding the piece of paper out to her. "Graves."

It's late enough that they decide to save their grave hunt for the next day, but not before getting an eyeball out of the gumball machine, of all things.

(Alongside gumballs for her and Henry, obviously. She's not a heathen.)

As skeptical as Renée looks when Bess hands her her key and her chocolate bar, she doesn't mention it or ask why it took her as long as it did.

"Hey," Henry says when he sees her enter, perking up from his spot on the couch. He almost looks hopeful, but that might just be Bess' own hope talking. "Listen-- sorry about... earlier. I had a lot of fun with you today."

"Yeah? I did too."

I really like you, Henry, Bess thinks but doesn't say.

For a moment, they just look at each other, seemingly waiting for the other to say something. Finally, Henry breaks the spell. "Right, um. So... good night."

"... yeah! Goodnight, Henry. I hope you actually get some sleep tonight."

"You and me both," he says, and moves to lie down on the couch.

He should be sleeping in his own bed, she thinks as she leaves the library for upstairs, stomach in knots.

Agh, this is the worst!

George's ringtone all but jumpscares Bess in that moment, scrambling to pick up the phone. "George! It's about time. Do you have any idea how late it is?!"

"Yeah, I just got off work. Early, mind you, just so I could call my cousin who just happens to be a morning person."

"Who wouldn't love sunrises and birds chirping, George! I just don't get it." Making her way up the stairs, Bess tosses her bag onto the bed as soon as she's back in Henry's sad, sad room.

"All that to say that I know it's past your bedtime, yes, this is the earliest I could call, and you can consider this revenge for calling me in the middle of the night."

"I'm sorry! I did say that, didn't I. Anyway, yes, I am sleepy. What's up?"

A pause. "You called me, remember?"

"Oh yeah! I've been solving a mystery for Nancy. Well-- sorta. Sorta solving a mystery. It's more like a scavenger hunt? It's just not Nancy style snooping... by which I mean mostly legal."

She certainly hasn't told Nancy that this has maybe, maybe not turned into a murder investigation, or she would surely swim her way to Henry's house just to get personally involved.

George laughs. "Don't let Nancy hear you say that!"

"Oh, she'll be fine. She already broke into the back of a shop without me even asking her to. Anyway, that's not why I called. I actually called because I want your advice on how to get rid of a horrible girlfriend and turn her into an ex-girlfriend."

Silence. "... what?"

A huff leaves her, Bess allowing herself to flop onto the bed. "You know! I remember that one girl you really wanted to date, except she already had a girlfriend, and so you magically exposed her lies and crimes using... I dunno, lesbian powers."

The groan on the other end is audible. "I literally just listened to her talk and told her the truth, that it sounded like her girlfriend was taking advantage of her."

"You make it sound so selfless! I'm sure it was a total accident that you were making out with her on her porch later that night, right?"

"That's... that was a happy accident."

Pulling the phone away from her ear, Bess narrows her eyes at it before returning to the call. "If that's what we're calling that now, then fine. I want to know how you make happy accidents happen."

"I already told you. I just listened to her and told her the truth." A beat passes before George goes on the offensive. "Who's this about, anyway?"

She sighs. "It's this guy..."

"Uh-huh, they always are."

Oh, the audacity! "You hush! Next time you tell me you're mooning over some girl, I'll be sure to remind you that they always are. Jeez."

"Fine, fine." George heaves an audible sigh. "Tell me about the guy."

"George, he's so cute. And totally wasted on that stupid girlfriend of his. Anyway, let's see... his name is Henry, he's a grad student studying Gothic literature, he goes to school with Ned-- which, by the way, did you know that Ned took 19th century French lit last semester?-- anyway, where was I-- oh! Right! He's also a poor, sad orphan."

"Bess."

"I'm serious! His last living relative just died, George! Have some compassion, jeez. Not to mention-- he barely even knew the guy. No one has ever even loved him!"

She can practically feel the judgment seeping through the phone.

"I... seriously doubt that."

"No, I mean it! His girlfriend has been feeding him crumbs of love and he's been mopping them up like Togo hoping for more scraps from the kitchen counter just because he doesn't know he could be eating a whole steak!"

"Are you the steak in this analogy?"

Biting down on her bottom lip, Bess pulls a face as if to avoid answering. "... yes?"

"All right... continue."

"The point is, he's never had better! He doesn't even know better exists! Also his girlfriend has been just asking him for things over and over even if he can't afford them."

"Okay, now that actually does sound like an actual problem." George sighs, the tail end of the sound drowned out by the honking of cars in the distance. "But also not your problem to solve."

"George, you're not talking on the phone and driving, are you?"

"What? No. I'm a pedestrian."

"You're walking and talking on the phone?"

"Ugh, I'm being safe. Which is more than I can say about some Estonians." Behind her, another honk sounds out, as if confirming her words. "Anyway. Bess. This isn't your problem to solve, you know."

"You must have not heard me earlier. George, he is so cute." She hesitates. "Also, I think he likes me." Or at least tolerates me. George doesn't need to hear that part.

"Didn't you just say that he has a girlfriend?"

"Okay, so maybe I'm being overly hopeful here, but honestly! He should break up with her either way. But you say I just need to... what, tell him that she's bad for him and then by the end of the night we'll be making out on the porch?"

George is rolling her eyes at her right now. She just knows it.

"You do know no boy is worth this, right?"

"Oh, but a girl is?"

"No boy or girl is worth this much effort and heartache!"

"Oh yeah? Say that to the butch motorist you went on a ride with before you left for Estonia! You nearly missed your flight for her, George. And that girl was bad news bears!"

"She so was not."

"She wasn't bad news? Is that what you're saying right now?" Oh, she is not hearing this right now. "She wore leather from head to toe!"

"I just liked her bike!"

"Yeah, I bet she took you for a ride!"

On the other end, George huffs. "All right, fine. Sometimes we do things that are a little bit stupid in the name of infatuation. All I'm saying is that... I know you, and I don't want you to get your feelings hurt at the end of all this."

Bess stops. Inhales sharply. Lets it out. Allows her eyes to close and open again. "I know. I'll be fine. I always am."

Somehow, the place manages to get creepier over the course of the second night, and by the time dawn rolls around, Bess is sleepier than she'd been hoping for.

She should not have watched that scary movie on the plane.

Glancing at her phone finds it to be still not charging and still at 33%. Hanging in there, maybe, but definitely not thriving. She'll finally need to just take Henry up on that powerbank offer of his.

Surely the power should be back on soon, right? Then again, maybe week-long outages are normal in New Orleans. She'll have to ask Henry.

Peeling herself out of bed, she makes for the bathroom to take a shower, getting the grime and rain water from yesterday off of her before going to greet the day.

They have more eyeballs to find!

Reinvigorated in spite of having to feel her way along the tiles in the bathroom, Bess pulls on a pretty dress and heads downstairs, the sight of candlelight already lighting her way.

Henry must already be awake.

"Morning," he says when he sees her enter, holding a plate out to her. "Hungry?"

"Starving!" Grabbing the plate, she happily moves to sit on the couch Henry has been sleeping on. It's just a sandwich, but even so, it's hitting the spot just perfectly.

It also doesn't hurt that everything around her smells like Henry.

"Did you sleep well?"

He shrugs. "Well enough, all things considered. Must've been tired."

"Exhaustion will do that," she says, nodding sagely. It's what she's hoping for tonight, anyway. "Say, do power outages like this happen a lot around here?"

Another shrug. "Wouldn't know. Hardly even lived here, honestly. But based on when I called the power company yesterday, they're having trouble even getting anyone out here because of all the flooding around. We're not exactly on a hill."

"In that case, if you wouldn't mind plugging in my phone," she says, holding it out for him to take, "I would be most grateful for the assistance."

"Sure. Not a big deal, honestly."

"It's kinda silly. I'm almost hoping that the cabs don't start running anytime soon yet. Not before we finish with our stuff, you know?"

The inscrutible expression she's come to recognize by now is back, Henry taking a moment before speaking. "Yeah, I feel that."

"You ready to go eyeball-hunting yet? I got answers from Nancy on what to do with the clock and the books."

"Then let's do it. After we have breakfast."

"Okay, so Nancy says that the numbers are... 12, 8, 10, 4, 9, aaaand 11."

"You know," Henry says, expertly following her instructions, "I keep thinking about that doll we found in Renée's trunk."

"Oh? How so?"

"I just..." He shakes his head. "I can't figure out why she'd want Bruno dead. I mean, the guy did give her a place to live, you know? A job, food, a roof of her head-- hell, a bigger bedroom than even his own... why would she want to get rid of him?"

Her eyes widen. Wait.

She hasn't even told Henry what pot of gold might be at the end of their scavenger hunt rainbow, has she?

No, she totally hasn't.

"Oh my gosh. I'm the worst, aren't I?"

"What? I mean-- no, you aren't-- what's this about, anyway?"

"Hhh, okay," Bess mutters. "Wish we could be sitting down for this... anyway, um, so I might've figured out what we're... um, scavenger hunting."

Another number ratchets into place on the clock as Henry turns to look at her. "Yeah?"

She inhales. "Soooo... you know that box of stuff you sold to Zeke's curio shop?"

Okay, so she kinda meant to keep wraps on that. But then again-- Nancy will almost certainly blab if she ever gets the chance to meet Henry. Which she hopefully will.

It doesn't do much to take away from how shocked Henry looks now, which she kinda anticipated but also feels pretty darn bad about. "Mrrr, don't give me that look. Nancy's got... you know, skills. Anyway, it's fine! It's totally fine."

"How did you even figure that out?"

Bess pulls a face. "It's just... y'know... you burned a receipt in the fireplace, and I kinda... found it. And like, that would have been fine, except that then Nancy offhandedly mentioned that our hotel is opposite this place called Zeke's, which obviously I recognized--"

"... from the receipt."

"Yeah! So she went to check it out and then totally didn't break into the back of the shop except that she totally did, but that's just-- who Nancy is as a person."

Henry is staring.

"Anyway, it's fine! I know you didn't mean anything by it. You just probably wanted to help pay for things so that Summer would... I dunno, keep loving you. Except that that's not really love at all, because you can't just turn that off like a light switch, not if it's real. If you really love a person, you'd live in a shoebox with them. Anyway!"

She takes in a deep gulp of air and continues. "The point is, she searched the box and found a bunch of really interesting stuff, including a box inside of the bigger box that had this indent that could have easily once held a skull? And also a letter where this guy told your great-uncle that he was now the proud owner of the skull called the Whisperer or something, and Nancy talked to this author that wrote a book in the library here about what that is, and it might actually be one of those weird crystal skulls? There was also a skeleton man costume in there, but we already figured that out."

It's starting to dawn on her that she might be sounding somewhat unhinged.

"All that to say that I think that's what we're looking for! And also that Summer doesn't deserve you at all, but... we've kinda covered that."

Her voice gradually loses volume as she speaks, until she's half-mumbling by the end.

Reaching up, she presses the little eye above the clock to the sound of a gong, another one of their eyes rolling out for Henry to take.

He doesn't.

"Henry?"

"Sorry," he mutters after a long moment, shaking his head as if dispel a sort of stupor that seems to have come over him. "Just... a lot on my mind."

"Yeah, I guess that makes sense." Picking up the eyeball, she looks it over, noting the purple iris with a smile. "This one's kinda pretty, honestly. It's a shame Bruno didn't have more pink ones." Looking up at Henry, she frowns. "We can take a break if you want, you know. I... for what it's worth, I'm sorry that I looked through your fireplace like a creep."

"No, that's--" Wide eyes immediately turn to look at her as he shakes his head. "You didn't do anything wrong, I did. And you... aren't even mad at me."

"Why would I be mad?"

He doesn't seem to have an answer for that, but considering his expression, there might not need to be one at all.

Maybe it's just enough for Henry to think about it.

He does think about it, though it doesn't end up slowing their eyeball hunt in the least, with the two of them merrily making their way through the house to further fill out their collection.

"All right, what's next?" Henry asks over his shoulder, placing several more eyes into the cabinet.

"We could grab some of those loquats to give to Iggy."

"He just ate a ton of mealworms not long ago, so we might want to hold off on that one."

Grabbing the riddle book, Bess flips through several pages. "Oh, we can mess with those buzzard heads! And then... we can follow that piece of paper you found yesterday. What did it say again?"

"The last denizen buried on my guard will start you a-hunting through the graveyard... all right. I guess that means we're headed to the living room. Shall we?"

The book, as it turns out after they make their way back down the stairs, is rather long. Bess flips through several pages before finally reaching...

"A-ha! Tammy Tasselman, buried in... Terra Siesta."

"That should be over... here," Henry says, pointing at the miniature graveyard. "Yeah, that one."

"All right. Let's go!" She stops, turning to look at him. "Hold on. You don't think your great-uncle is expecting us to be doing any grave robbing, do you?"

"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me."

There they are, staring at a headstone, both of them drenched head to toe. Compared to this, the buzzard heads were downright easy to figure out.

"Mm?"

"Does he really expect us to go running back and forth from the house to the graveyard and back again ten million times? How many of these are there, anyway? Maybe if it was a sunny day, we could just bring the book, but nooo..."

"Pretty sure it's attached to that stand."

"All right then! So then maybe your great-uncle is just trying to curse you from the grave!"

Henry smiles. It's a small thing, but nevertheless present. "I'd offer to bring us an umbrella to use, but mine broke pretty much as soon as I got here and it started torrentially storming. And I thought Chicago was bad."

"I should have listened to Nancy and brought one. Ugh, why does she always gotta be right about everything! Anyway, what do we do? Just shlep water all over the house? Trudge back and forth like suckers while your great-uncle laughs at us from the great beyond?"

"I'm sure it won't be that bad."

"No, you're right. It'll be way worse. This is a big piece of paper, Henry!" Her makeup is probably running all over her face. This is awful timing.

Unless...

"Wait. I might... have an idea." Handing him the piece of paper, she nods, solemn. "Hold this. I will be right back. Unless I fail, in which case we are definitely both doomed depending on how many gravestones there are. Buuut, I guess we'll get to that bridge when it's time to cross it."

All but racing back through the rain-- until she starts panting and her muscles start to ache, which immediately slows her Usain Bolt-like achievements-- Bess slips back into the house and grabs her phone.

"You'll get your powerbank back before you know it," she tells it before bringing it into the living room with her.

By the time she returns to Henry, her phone is packed to capacity.

"I took... pictures."

"What?"

"Of the book! Henry, there are so many pages. But! I persevered, and now we've got them all right here. They might be small, but if you squint... kinda a lot, you can see them."

"Uh."

"Also, I'll have to bend over to make sure that my phone doesn't end up drowned to death, but that's fine! We just need to riddle this out!"

Taking the phone, Henry starts looking through pictures, his expression increasingly turning grave.

"Hey, uh, Bess?"

"Yeah?"

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but... I don't think these are riddles."

"What do you mean?"

Handing her phone back to her, Henry heaves a long-suffering sigh as he gestures to a name.

"These are puns."

Several curses unto Bruno later, they finally arrive at Polly Ester's grave, Henry unfurling a scroll of parchment.

"No eye?"

"No eye," he mutters, reading it over. "What the hell, Bruno?"

"What is it now? An even worse pun?"

Holding it out to her, he shakes his head. "Nah, just... how the hell am I supposed to know what his dog's name was? I didn't even know he had a dog."

Her eyes widen. "Wait! Wait, I know this one! It's such a weird name for a dog, too-- it was in that box you sold to Zeke's! The name is Grant! Which you-- really just shouldn't name a dog."

Henry blinks, staring at her like she's a medical marvel. Or just a lunatic. Both equally likely. "Wow. Uh. So... is there a Grant in there?"

"Um, well, let's see..." Flipping through several pictures, she feels herself beam when she arrives on the right one. "Here! Derek Grant. Writhing Roots Mausoleum! Let's go!"

They're halfway back to the house, eyeball and tiny little pirate hat in hand when Bess feels herself freeze.

"Wait! We forgot one!" Turning to Henry, she grabs hold of his forearm as if to help her gesture out the importance of this oversight. "Charlie Wicker! We need that shovel!"

Henry hesitates. "Renée is definitely not gonna give it to me."

"Okay, maybe. But you know what she will do?" Bess asks, already leading Henry back past the fence and on to the makeshift greenhouse as her voice drops. "Not pay attention if I'm distracting her!"

"I... don't know about this."

"You can do it, Henry! I've got your back. If I can snoop, you can steal! Besides, wasn't it your great-uncle's anyway? Think of it as... reclamation!"

Whatever misgivings he might still have about the matter, Henry goes along with her plan all the same, watching from just around the corner as Bess ambles up to Renée, hands gently clasped behind her back.

"Sooo..."

Renée looks up, clearly skeptical of her approach. That's... bad, possibly.

"Didn't I see you coming out here with Henry earlier?"

"I did! But then he left. He's... gone now."

If Renée doesn't believe her, at least it doesn't show on her face. Which, granted, may or may not be worse than the alternative. "You got a hankerin' for more chocolate?"

"Nooo, I was actually wondering if you would tell me about those plants of yours!"

"Which ones? I do have rather a lot, you know."

She laughs. "Don't I know it! Um. I was actually hoping to learn about those ones!" Pointing at them, she walks forward, gesturing at the ones just beneath the library window. "They just look like they would be great for... you know... cooking. I just keep thinking about food while I'm here! Guess I must be hungry!"

More forced laughter.

"Has that fool Henry not been feeding you? I guess I shouldn't be surprised." Renée tuts, thankfully turning to look at the plants in question. "I don't use these herbs for cooking, darling."

"Um. You... don't?"

"No. I use 'em for... other things."

She's fairly certain her gulp is audible. "What kinda things?"

"Secret things. Things that give me special talents when special times demand them."

Wow.

"Oh, wow! That... sounds really... um, useful! I'll definitely want to learn some more about that later... probably after I get some food in me."

She turns around, walking straight into the garden only to hear Renée's voice from behind her.

"That's the opposite direction of the kitchen, dear."

"I know!" she calls back, giggling to herself like a loon as she rushes to catch up with Henry.

He looks... happy. Exhilirated, even. And he's holding the shovel.

"What a weirdo!" she whispers to him, grinning from one ear to another. "Anyway, you did great! Now let's do some grave robbing in the name of sleuthing!"

The levity of the moment remains with them all through their quest for what will probably be just yet another eyeball, and doesn't dissipate even after Henry breaks the shovel trying to open the canister.

"Well, I guess we're not giving that back to Renée," Bess says with a snort, only for Henry to start laughing.

Wait, laughing? She doesn't think she's heard Henry laughing even once.

It turns out to be infectious, both of them ending up with their backs on the grass by the time they catch their breath.

"Oh, whew!" Bess says, still panting by the time she sits up again. "I'm pretty sure I could've just stayed there for the next ten years if not for the rain pelting down on my face. What about... you..."

As it turns out, Henry is... a lot closer to her than she expected.

Then again, what did she expect?

She doesn't dare speak, terrified of breaking the spell as Henry returns her gaze, seemingly studying her for a moment.

As though he's desperately trying to find an answer to an impossible question in her eyes.

His hand moves slowly enough that she could easily move away if she so chose, almost as if he's half-expecting her to.

Are his fingers trembling?

Taking her cheek in hand, he allows his thumb to stroke over the skin, soft and slow.

"You're amazing," he says, words as soft as his touch. It's certainly not an answer to what she asked him, but she's forgotten all about that already. Heck, she's almost forgotten why she's even here, if only because it doesn't seem to matter in the least, not right now.

"I really..."

He doesn't finish his sentence, replacing words with the promise of a kiss, slowly leaning in, so, so close--

Bzzt bzzt!

They leap apart in an instant, separated infinitely more quickly than they took to come together, and Bess stares down at his phone as he pulls it out of his pocket, a sickening feeling gathering in her chest.

Summer.

"You... probaby want to pick that up," she says, letting out a soft laugh that turns out to be downright painful.

Pain upon pain, her chest constricting tighter and tighter.

"Nearly forgot you have a girlfriend!"

Another awkward laugh, and then she's off, all but racing back to the house to get out from the rain, if only to escape this moment of boundless possibility and hope, all snuffed out in an instant.

There are tears running down her cheeks. And all after George was so worried about her, too.

She really is a joke, huh.

Tracking her sopping wet ass to the hallway, she plops herself down halfway up the stairs.

Not too far.

Not too close.

George doesn't pick up, because of course she doesn't, she's clearly still at work, but Bess lets it go to voicemail all the same.

"Hey! Um, so... ha... ha... turns out you were right! As usual. I should really start listening to you and Nancy, huh?" Taking in a deep, shaky breath, Bess closes her eyes. Exhales. "Anyway. I'm okay. You know me! Regular wobble doll Bess over here! I always get back up, no matter how many times I get knocked down! ... anyway, you're clearly super busy, so... you don't have to call back, or anything. Unless you want to, I mean. Though I can't guarantee that I'll still be awake by the time that--"

Behind her, someone clears their throat.

Wait.

Henry?

"George, I'm gonna have to call you back," she hears herself say before ending the call, as if she'd been on an actual call to begin with.

Oh, she's such a mess, isn't she?

Hurriedly wiping her cheeks dry, she turns her attention back to Henry through the balustrade. "Hey."

"Hey," he says, offering her a small smile.

"Some weather we're having, huh?"

Okay, that time she absolutely deserves the way Henry stares at her, just blinking for a moment.

"You still wanna finish up our mystery?"

This truly is the moment where girls become women. Bess gets up, trailing puddles alongside her as she returns down the stairs.

"Let's do it."

"Here, I'll start putting the rest of these in place and try to figure out which direction they're supposed to face, and you can play dress-up with Iggy."

Nothing like dressing up an iguana to look extremely adorable to salve all wounds.

They haven't spoken about what happened outside, or about Summer, or about any of that, and that's... okay. She can deal with that, right? It's hardly the end of the world. It certainly isn't the first time she was turned down by a guy.

It's just the first time that she's stuck in a house! Solving a mystery together with that very same guy! And after the worst possible moment!

Okay, so she's being a bit dramatic. Maybe. Maybe she's being a bit dramatic.

"Look at how adorable he is!" she says, pulling back so Henry might see little optometrist Iggy scuttle off and down the vent. "And there he goes..."

"Hopefully he actually comes back."

"Oh, you know he's going to! We're armed with delicious loquats and also, Iggy is loyal."

"Yeah, my landlord is gonna hate me. Not like I can stick Iggy in a terrarium after great-uncle Bruno just let him run free all the time, he'd hate that."

"What your landlord doesn't know can't hurt them." Bess watches as Iggy returns with an eye. "Jackpot!"

There's a long pause. "Iggy didn't by any chance come back with two eyeballs, did he?"

"... nooo. Why?"

"We're missing an eye. Just. One."

"Don't worry. We've still got more outfits! I've got this."

Another loquat immediately summons Iggy-- see, Henry? Loyal!-- and she promptly starts to dress him up as a pirate.

"You never know. Maybe your great-uncle had a sense of humor."

"What do you mean?"

She holds up a finger. "I can answer that in just one second."

Sure enough, here comes Iggy. Carrying... a chest?

"... huh. I guess I was right."

"What is it?"

"Pirate Iggy returned with pirate booty."

Fingernails rap against wood. "And... is there an eye inside?"

Picking it up, she looks it over. "Oh, there's a plaque! ... it says, the name that opens every Jolly Roger meeting opens me. Huh. Weird."

"You're kidding. How exactly am I supposed to know that?"

She's asking herself the same question for a moment before something clicks in her brain and Bess winces. "Weeeell... I kinda think he maybe wanted you to become one of them. The... Jolly Rogers krewe, I mean. He did leave you that skeleton man costume, and if you found this place, then you'd also find his calender, which says where the meetings are and how to get in! But... um..."

"... I sold it. Yeah. Great."

"Mmmm." Bess bites her lips into her mouth. They're clearly both less than happy about this, but Henry seems particularly upset. Downright self-loathing, really. "Yeah... wait! We have a perfect macguffin here, Henry! Hang on, I'm calling in reinforcements!"

The phone is ringing before Henry can so much as ask what she's doing, Nancy picking up as promptly as usual.

"Hey Bess, how goes the mystery solving?"

"Great! But I need your help. It's really important, so listen up. I need you to somehow get your hands on that skeleton man costume and to sneak into a Jolly Rogers krewe meeting tonight. At... hang on, one second... why are there so many pages in this calender, anyway?... aha! It's at Rampart and Dumaine, which should be right around our hotel I think? Anyway, the password is Scuttled Bones, and once you're in, you're gonna need to tell me what word opens the meeting. It's really important. Can you do that, Nancy?"

"... you know I can! I got this. Just hang in there, I'll get you that password in no time."

No time turns out to be actually kind of a bit of time, if only because the meeting isn't until later, with Bess and Henry heading down to the kitchen to indulge in some more canned goods.

The dreaded topic of Summer still doesn't come up, and Bess isn't about to ask a question that is sure to break her heart when she hears the answer.

“Bess, listen…”

Henry is two words into what might have been a sentence when all of a sudden it’s her phone interrupting, Ned’s ringtone making her half-jump out of her skin.

Hey there, Delilah, what's it like—

“Ned!” she all but yelps as she manages to answer her phone with a minimum amount of fumbling, Bess only nearly dropping it twice. “I’m so glad you called; the investigation is… uh, being investigated and things are going great!”

“… are you okay? You sound… unwell.”

“I’m great! Henry’s here if you want to say hello.”

“Ohhh, I see.”

“I’m handing you over!”

Henry looks at her in utter bafflement for a moment before taking the phone. “Hey." Turning away, he starts walking, pacing his way through the kitchen. A long gap passes between each of his words. "Guess so. Mm. Sure. It's fine."

Well, isn’t this a riveting conversation.

"Sounds good." Turning his attention back to Bess, he holds her phone out to her to take back. "Here."

"Thanks!" Grabbing it, Bess gets up from her seat, starting to walk herself. What's up with this nervous energy in the room, anyway? "Ned! You haven't heard from Nancy by any chance, have you?"

"What? No. Should I have?" A beat. "Should I be worried?"

Maybe. There's no way she can tell that to Ned, he'd never let Nancy leave on a trip ever again! "Noooo... I mean, we kinda told her to sneak into a krewe meeting over here, but I'm sure she's fine. Oh yeah, and to break into the back of a shop, but that's like, you know, Nancy's bread and butter, so...!"

"Bess!"

Whoops. "Ignore everything I just said! Nancy is fine. She's probably resting in bed watching the weather channel, surrounded by flower petals and puppies, drinking a glass of wine-- wait, no, that just got weirdly romantic--"

"How are things going with you and Henry, anyway?"

Bess feels herself go a bit hysterical. "Oh, you know how it is! Things are going great as ever! Just getting kinda worried about how this whole investigation will pan out!"

"... Bess? You okay over there?"

"Never been better!" She feels her phone buzz against her ear, Bess frantically pulling it away from her ear to see Nancy calling. "Ned, I gotta let you go! Nancy calling!"

She ends the call before Ned can so much as think of replying, only to end up hanging up on Nancy, also. Calling her again, she looks to Henry, nervous energy no doubt playing out on her face as she gently bounces in place. It's stupid. There isn't even a time limit on this for them, not really. And yet--

"Bess?"

"Nancy, hi! How'd it go? Did you get the word?"

"I sure did. It's Jean Lafitte."

"Jean Lafitte." She repeats, pulling out her still slightly damp wad of paper to write it down before nodding to Henry. "Got it!"

"I also may have figured out who knocked you out, but... that story can probably wait."

Oh, of course. Leave it to Nancy to solve multiple mysteries at a time! "You sure?"

"Yeah. You have a mystery to solve!"

Looking to Henry, Bess offers him a small smile that he readily returns. "Yeah, we do!"

"Remind me to thank your friend for these instructions," Henry tells her, shifting the second-to-last eyeball into its correct direction.

"If we survive whatever's coming next, you mean?"

She feels eyes on her a moment later, Bess looking up to the sight of Henry looking back at her.

"We're not going to die. You know that, right? My great-uncle might have been a troll--"

"-- and awful at puns--"

"-- sure, whatever, that too, but I doubt he would have wanted to send me to my death."

The box pops open as Bess enters the last letters necessary before turning back to Henry again. "It's just, I dunno. This feels a lot like a Nancy mystery, and she always somehow ends up in mortal peril or at least something similar at the end of her mysteries." She looks down with a grin. "Oh hey, look at that! Our last eyeball. Here--"

Henry is still watching her when she looks up. Moving to take the eyeball from her, he shakes his head, finally tearing himself away. "I won't let you get hurt, all right? Whatever happens, I'll at least be there."

"Okay."

Dammit, that's really, really convincing, and not at all helping her with the whole Prince Charming thing.

"All right. You ready to finish this?"

"Boy, am I!"

She decides to join him in front of the cabinet, watching as Henry shifts the last eye into place by pushing it to face down.

And just like that, the cabinet opens. Mystery over, that's all she wr--

"Wait, that's not a skull."

Henry heaves out a sigh, closing his eyes. "Of course. Why wouldn't great-uncle Bruno add yet another hurdle in for us to cross?" Reaching into the cabinet, he pulls out a large, kinda creepy-looking, jeweled eyeball.

"What is that?"

"No idea."

"Oh! Here, maybe this can help," she says, spotting a piece of rolled up parchment still inside the cabinet. "... huh. Did he just know we were gonna break the shovel?"

"Let me see."

It takes Henry only a moment of looking at the paper before he seems to recognize something, tapping the paper. "That. I've seen that before, in the garden out back. It's some kind of lightning rod... thing." Getting up, he holds his hand out to her. "Come on. Let's go get it down."

They fetch the broken shovel with ease, and the lightning rod with slightly less ease, Henry all but climbing the wall to get it down.

"All right," he says, watching Bess attaching everything together. "What now?"

"I mean, I guess it's a good staff if you want to be a really creepy wizard?"

"Hang on... that pattern..."

He grabs her hand, unbidden, and leads her back to Bruno's crypt.

"I had his ashes buried here and the slab inscribed, since I thought that's what... all this this was for. But now I'm not so sure."

Henry stops, taking in a deep breath before turning to look at her.

"I'm glad you're here, Bess."

She smiles. "I'm glad I'm here too."

And she is. She really, really is.

She can't help but wonder-- would Nancy have taken Henry along for this? Or would she have just gone alone, thinking that something like this could turn out to be dangerous for someone else to accompany her on?

Henry slots the strange creepy staff into the ground, both of them stepping back slightly to watch as it turns all on its own, the eye shifting to face up--

"What the fuck," Henry mutters, a sentiment Bess honestly has to agree with. A crack of lightning strikes the buzzard, seeming to charge it up into some sort of laser beam.

"Wait, so if it wasn't thunderstorming, this wouldn't even have worked?!" she whispers dramatically.

"Good lord, you're right. Guess that's great-uncle Bruno for you..."

They continue watching the scene unfold before them, the ground opening up only for the floor to start descending with them on it.

"Woah!"

It must be instinctive, the way Henry pulls her closer to keep her from getting hurt, the space suddenly considerably more narrow as a crystal skull slowly comes into view before them.

"Woah," she says again, this time for entirely different reasons.

For a long moment, Henry doesn't make to move, not until Bess gently nudges him forward.

"Go on. This is your moment, Henry!"

An odd smile comes over his face as he glances back at her before walking down the narrow hallway, Bess following closely behind.

"I don't... understand this at all," he admits softly, picking up the skull. "Why would he ignore me all my life only to... do this?"

Bess chews on her bottom lip, her hand briefly hovering over his lower back only to resist touching him. He needs a hug, honestly, and she's pretty sure she's never wanted to give anyone a hug as badly as she does now. "Maybe he actually... you know, loved you, and just didn't know how to show it? I mean, honestly, even with Renée around-- actually, maybe especially with Renée around-- didn't it seem to you like he must have been... kinda lonely in that big ol' house? I assume he wasn't ever married, but... obviously I could be wrong about that."

He shakes his head, faint.

"No, he wasn't."

"Like, he gave Renée the master bedroom and slept in that tiny little bedroom himself... didn't even decorate it. Maybe he just never knew how to reach out to you?"

So cut off from the world and, more importantly, love, that he never learned how to be different.

She hopes Henry doesn't end up like that.

"I just always thought... I thought I was some... annoying family obligation to him. That he didn't actually care about me at all. Why would he set up all of this-- this whole scavenger hunt through the house, this... skull-- if he didn't give a crap? All that stuff was designed for me to get to know him. Learning more about our ancestry to find that hidden room, reading all those stories he wrote for-- for me, getting to know Iggy by playing dress-up with him and bringing him loquats, learning that he was a Jolly Roger... never mind that he apparently meant for me to take up the mantle--"

It's raining into the crypt, so she can't quite tell, but... Bess almost thinks Henry might be crying.

"Fuck," he mutters, looking up at the sky and closing his eyes, allowing the rain to wash away the pain for him.

"Do you... maybe want a hug?"

That draws his attention, Henry's smile small as he looks upon her. "Later. Let's get out of here first, yeah?"

Actually, that's a very good point. How do they get out of this... hole?

"Uh... so, about that... any ideas?"

"Yeah, here--" Handing the skull over to her, he crouches down, lacing his fingers together as if to create a step for her.

"Oh! Um. Are you sure?"

"Yeah, 'course. And then you can help me out after."

"Okay, hang on." Reaching down, Bess pulls off her flip-flops to toss out of the hole before nodding to him with a bright smile, skull tucked under one arm. "All right! I'm ready."

Stepping into his hands, she balances herself by holding on to his shoulder in her ascent, nevertheless feeling rather shaky.

"Ooookay, Bess... you can do this..." she tells herself, not at all super nervous. "Just gotta... stop wobbling..."

Bess Marvin: Magnificent Wobble Doll strikes again.

"Ahhh... there we go," she says, fiercely grabbing on to the edge of the hole as though it's a lifeline.

Then again, it is a lifeline.

Except... now what?

"Put the skull down, then you'll be able to pull yourself up!" Henry calls up from beneath her, Bess offering a harried nod in return.

Now she just needs to not drop the skull.

Wouldn't that be a right joke! All that work, only for it to shatter to pieces.

Shifting the skull into her hand, she lifts it up and out of the crypt, trembling fingers gently placing it down on the ground.

"All right! Now you can--"

Her words are interrupted as Renée suddenly steps into view, leaning down to pick up the skull.

"After all that scheming, I can't believe you're just... handing it to me like this."

"Wait, what?"

Renée seems to press something with her foot before turning her attention back to Bess and Henry. "I think you and Henry can both join Bruno now that you've outlived your usefulness."

Wait. Is the lid closing?

"Renée?!"

"Bye now," she says, and promptly steps on Bess' fingers.

"Augh!"

She lets go in an instant-- only confirming that she would die pretty much instantly in an action movie-style situation-- and falls into Henry's arms.

In a proper princess carry.

Seeing as she might actually be about to die, now would probably be the wrong time to ask if this is also how he carried her into the library, long before he even met her.

"Are you okay?" he asks, carefully setting her down far too quickly, which is to say sensibly quickly, considering that the lid is still closing.

"I'm... okay. My fingers just really hurt now since she stepped on them and all. What was that?"

"I'm pretty sure she just confessed to murdering my great-uncle. Whether that was with hoodoo or otherwise--"

Darkness descends on them as the lid slides fully into place, pitch black.

"Well she clearly has no problem murdering us!"

Okay, so maybe she's gone a bit hysterical! Honestly, who wouldn't!

"Um-- the police wouldn't come here fast enough to get us out before we run out of oxygen, right?" she asks, frantically searching through her purse for her phone. "Come on, come on, come on..."

"There's got to be some kind of failsafe down here," Henry mutters. "Hang on, I'm gonna get us out of here."

"Mnghhh, I'm way too pretty to die young! Never mind here where no one will ever even find us... well, I guess Nancy will, eventually--" Pulling he phone out of her bag, she turns to look in Henry's general direction. "I should try calling just in case, right?"

She doesn't wait for Henry to answer before dialing 9-1-1 and pressing the button to call, just before--

"I got it! Quick, Bess, over here."

Promptly hanging up, she rushes over fast enough to almost trip, bare feet thankfully allowing for slightly more traction than her flip-flops. "What?"

"Feel that?"

Under normal circumstances, Henry gently guiding her hand over several tiles would be extremely romantic. Unfortunately, right now, they're trying not to die.

"Here, use the light from your phone--"

It certainly provides more illumination than expected, Bess and Henry looking it over.

"What is this?"

"Looks like some kind of... memory puzzle. Shall we?"

"No dying yet, not today! Which is to say, let's do it."

They do. Thunder claps overhead as rain keeps pounding down on the lid up above them. It might just be her imagination, but the air definitely feels like it's getting thinner down here.

They can do this. They can do this! Nancy does this sort of thing all the time, and she hasn't died yet! Just got really close!

Kind of like how they are right now!

"One more, one more, come on--" She's never heard quite so much enthusiasm from Henry ever before, something that's only confirmed when he finally shouts out-- "Yes!"

The lid above them slides open, a wonderful sound, Bess taking in several gulps of air as if to celebrate their victory.

"We did it! Oh my gosh. We actually did it! We're alive! I can breathe! And I can feel the rain again! And--"

Before she even realizes what's happening, she's spun on her heels just far enough to face Henry, his hands cup her cheeks, and he leans in to kiss her, desperate and longing and everything she could have possibly hoped for it to be.

They part in the name of astonishment, both of them staring at each other in breathless awe for a long moment.

Henry's thumb plays on her cheek, soft, a reminder of the kiss not taken.

"Was that... okay?"

"What?" Her eyes widen. He can't be serious. Is he really still doubting her enthusiasm here? She must have done something wrong. "I mean-- yes, obviously, but--"

As if to both stop herself from rambling out something stupid and stop Henry from worrying that he might have overstepped his bounds, she moves onto the tips of her toes and pulls him into a kiss of her own.

She draws back much sooner than she wants to, regret shining in her eyes. "Okay, I really hope that answered your question, because I kinda think we should maybe go get Renée arrested for attempted murder?"

"Oh. Shit." Henry's eyes widen as though he'd forgotten all about that for a second, which-- okay, fair, those were two really great kisses, and honestly, what sort of girl wouldn't take that as a compliment? Just two kisses, and all the thoughts have tumbled out of Henry's head.

No regrets.

"Yeah," he says, nodding before crouching back down to help Bess get up and out of their not-grave. "Let's go."

As soon as they manage to get not only Bess, but also Henry out of the crypt, they all but race through the rain, past the Crowing Crypts and Forty Winks Mausoleum, only to skid to a halt at the sight of Renée presumably seconds from driving her boat off into the great unknown.

She's just about to run into the damn lake when Henry grabs hold of her arm to stop her.

"Do not go in that lake," he hisses in her ear. "Alligators."

No matter how much she doesn't like it and wants to just wade into the damn lake, she isn't in any particular mood to become alligator food anytime soon.

"Stop it right there, Renée!" Bess shouts from her very sensible spot on the shore, hopefully still sounding as angry as she feels. Maybe angrier. "You can't just kill people and then expect to leave!"

At least that gets her attention, distracting her even for a moment longer from just escaping. Skull in hand, she turns, letting out a laugh upon seeing them. "Why, I most certainly can! You and that fool can't possibly stop me!"

"That skull belongs to Henry, not you! Bruno wanted him to have it, to show that he actually always cared a lot about him!"

Renée turns her attention to Henry. "Is she your new girlfriend, then? Someone to win all your battles for you?"

"Hey, fuck you," Henry spits out, walking closer to the edge.

And all that, after he told her not to!

"Henry, be careful!"

"I'm so sick and fucking tired of you making me feel small," he says, pushing his foot down on the log at the shore to dunk it.

It happens almost too quickly for Bess to process what happens, but even so, she watches, dumbfounded at the sight of an alligator just snapping its jaws and swallowing the skull whole.

And just like that, it's gone.

The police end up making it in time to arrest Renée, not that it stops her from talking and talking, going on and on about how her plan had worked and how she was going to rendezvous that skull with all the other skulls around the world.

"What a loony," Bess tells Henry, right in time for Nancy to arrive.

It ends up being a kind of weird evening. Nancy and Henry are introduced, Nancy gives Henry back the Jolly Rogers costume-- among a few other things-- in spite of it all technically being stolen property now, and they have a wonderful meal via delivery.

Of course, that's when the electricity comes back on.

As it turns out, Nancy even knows who knocked her out, and Henry promises to give Gilbert Buford an earful about that some other time.

So, case closed. They all got their happy ending... sorta.

But then, her fears have also kind of been realized. The electricity is back on, the neighborhood is only a little flooded, cabs are running again, Nancy is here, and...

Henry hasn't brought up their kissing even once since their brief time spent six feet under. Bess even catches sight of his phone once, only to see seventeen missed calls from Summer.

So when Nancy asks if she's is ready to finally go back to their hotel, Bess waits for a protest from Henry that doesn't ever end up coming.

They return to the city.

As excited as she was to visit it with Nancy, to indulge in the local shopping and food, the luster seems to have disappeared entirely. What's worse, she knows why.

The city isn't what's broken. She is.

The spell has worn off and her pumpkin carriage has turned back into just a plain ol' pumpkin again. Even now, two days later, it doesn't feel all that much better to be back in reality.

She lets out another long-suffering sigh, starfished on her double bed as she stares up at the ceiling.

"Bess... that's the fifth sigh in ten minutes. Are you sure there isn't anything I can do to cheer you up? I promised that we'd go shopping, didn't I? You still haven't even seen that curio shop across the street..."

"I can't believe I'm about to say this, but I don't even feel like shopping."

This is the worst.

"We're going to get you through this, don't you worry."

In the background, she can hear Nancy take a call from what sounds like Ned, and little else. She's almost definitely being talked about, but Nancy has a terrible habit of always going just out of earshot whenever she has an interesting phone conversation.

George already tried to cheer her up, of course. Reminded her of how, yes, she told her so, but she's also always been very resilient in the face of these things.

And she has. Resilience may as well be her middle name.

"It's just the place," Bess had told her from inside her depression bubble bath. "While I'm in New Orleans, I can't not think about... you know. It'll be fine once I'm back home. I'll snap out of it before you know it."

It would be so much easier to deal with this if he'd just told her that he doesn't like her. That would have presented her with absolutely zero problems. She could have just packed it all up into a little parcel of feelings and shipped it off along with her hopes and dreams.

But this? This is just plain confusing.

Did that kiss mean anything to him the way it did for her? Did he want it to? Or was it just Henry getting swept up in the moment?

Maybe he's just... decided to stay with Summer after all.

Maybe that's what Ned called to tell Nancy.

As if determined to dispel the raincloud slowly gathering over her mood, Nancy steps back into the room.

"Ned said to tell you to stop worrying and that not all hope is lost."

She heaves another sigh. "Easy for him to say. He's not suffering from heartache."

That might not be entirely true. Nancy is on the road so much it's a miracle Ned isn't more sad about it more often.

It would certainly be appropriate.

"Look, Bess," Nancy says, moving to pull out a pair of jeans from her suitcase before closing it again. Always so darn neat. "I know you're sad. But if we're going to pull you out of this depression, we can't do it here. We're going out for gumbo."

A whine leaves her. "Don't wanna. New Orleans has betrayed me."

"It has not."

"It so has!" At least that compels her to sit up, Bess pulling a face. "Let's see here now, first I was attacked by knock-out powder right after arriving. Then I got to experience three days in the Middle Ages, eating cold, canned food and showering in the dark. Then someone tried to kill me, which-- I know that might seem an everyday sort of thing for you, but it really isn't for me, Nance! And then I got my heart broken in the weirdest way possible, because I don't even know what happened or why! It's just... confusing!"

"Okay, so maybe your track record with New Orleans isn't great yet. But we've gotta think of it that way, all right? It isn't great yet. How is the city supposed to win you over if you won't let it?"

Ugh, why does Nancy have to be so rational all the time, anyway? "Have you considered that maybe I don't want to change my mind?"

"Well, we're going to at least try. Come on. Get up. Get dressed. Something that'll... make you happy to wear."

"Wellllll..." She pulls another face, looking over her own mess of a suitcase. "I guess I could put on my pink dress." She sighs. "Fine. You win. But if the gumbo sucks, then I reserve the right to submit an official complaint to the city."

"I don't think it quite works that way, but sure, if that's what it's gonna take."

Bess huffs, grabbing her dress and a matching pair of earrings out of her suitcase. "Four strikes down. One more, and New Orleans is out." She's pretty sure baseball doesn't quite work that way, but she's going with it regardless. "But I'm giving it one last chance."

She has to give the city one thing: the vibes are immaculate.

Even now, in the pouring rain, the sound of smooth jazz plays from one street corner, little food trucks gathered here and there outside of quaint little mom-and-pop shops and boutiques. It is, unfortunately, much cuter than she dares to admit.

"This is the gumbo stand I was telling you about," Nancy says, the two of them walking across the street and through the rain. "Apparently, the locals swear by it."

"I can't believe that while I was busy trying not to die, you were getting plugged in to the local nightlife-- wait, Henry?!"

Judging by the surprise on his face, he clearly expected to see her about as little as she expected to see him here, which does, admittedly, dampen her excitement somewhat.

He's not here for her.

"Bess--!"

Or-- at least, that's what she thinks until she sees him all but jump up out of his seat, nearly toppling over his own styrofoam bowl of gumbo.

"What are... um... what are you doing here?"

"Dr. Buford here said that we might run into you around here, and I honestly didn't believe him, but--"

Oh.

Wait.

Buford?

It's then that she notices that Henry is, in fact, sitting at the table alongside another, older gentleman, letting out a merry chuckle after looking back and forth between the two of them. "Well, my goodness, aren't you two kids adorable." He turns his attention behind Bess to Nancy, who also still exists. "Shall we leave them to it, then?"

"Not... quite yet. You still have something to tell Bess here."

At that, Dr. Buford looks somewhat sheepish as he moves to stand, nodding to Bess. "I am deeply sorry that I knocked you out in the Bolet foyer. I certainly did not mean any harm by it."

"Oh, right! That was you! Um, that's fine! No bumps on my head, or anything." She steals a glance at Henry. "What were you doing over at Henry's, though?"

"I'm sure Henry might be better at explaining that part than I." Patting her on the shoulder, he pulls the chair out for her to sit. "You kids have fun."

She sits, albeit somewhat awkwardly as Nancy and Dr. Buford walk off, still chatting. Does Henry even want her to be sitting here with him?

"Is this... okay?" she asks, watching Henry sit down opposite her. "If you didn't actually want this, you know, I can... go..."

"No! I mean-- no. No, I don't want you to go." He takes in a shaky inhale, running his fingers through his hair. "You know, I didn't realize that I never got your number until after you'd left."

Wait. Is that why she's been agonizing over all of this? Because she forgot to give him her number?!

"You're kidding."

"Hang on-- let me buy you some gumbo while we talk. Uh. If that's... what you want."

"Um. Yeah! Why not. I love gumbo!"

She has her own styrofoam bowl handed to her shortly after, Bess digging in while she waits for Henry to continue.

"Where was I... oh yeah, that's right. No, not kidding. Honestly, I don't even have Ned's number, so I had to contact him through social media. And, as it turns out, he doesn't check any of that all too regularly. Too busy having a life, I suppose." He sighs. "At the same time, Gilbert Buford got a hold of me to... talk, I guess, give me fatherly advice. Apparently he felt bad for everything that had happened over here, with you and my great-uncle and even Renée-- anyway, he's a nice guy."

"That's... good."

"Finally Ned got back to me and we talked on the phone a bit. He gave me some good advice. Talked to your friend, apparently. Then Buford reached out to me again to invite me out for Gumbo in the hopes of maybe running into you, and..."

Her stomach turns. This wasn't a set-up, was it?

"But you... wanted... to run into me? Or..."

"I mean, yeah." He blinks at her, clearly more than a little surprised at her question. "Obviously. Why wouldn't I?"

"I guess I just kinda... thought you'd decided you were done with that particular chapter in your life, you know? Those three days weren't exactly great for you, what with no power, almost getting murdered, losing your inheritance to an alligator, those arguments with your girlfriend..."

Henry's expression turns quizzical. "Seems like you and I experienced those three days pretty differently."

"... oh?"

"I got to spend three days with this amazing girl, who for some reason cared about me enough to help me uncover things about my family I never would have figured out on my own. And, also for some reason, I think she might actually like being around me." His smile is small, but it's there. "That... doesn't just happen. Maybe to a guy like Ned, but not to me, anyway."

A beat passes before he speaks again, gesturing to her bowl of gumbo after finishing his own. "If you finish that up, there's somewhere I'd like to take you. If you want to come, I mean."

"You know I would!" she tells him with a nod, quickly following in his footsteps to clean her bowl.

The walk starts out slow, neither one of them seeming to care all that much about getting wet in the warm rain.

"Where are we going? If I'm allowed to know, I mean."

As much as she wants to take his hand, she finds herself fighting the urge out of some weird sense of politeness, or maybe just not wanting to overwhelm Henry. If he wants to do it, he'll do it, right? Or... well, maybe he wouldn't, actually. He's painfully polite too, always worried about overstepping his bounds. And maybe, just maybe, this is her being chicken.

She takes his hand.

Instead of going slack, stepping back, or shaking it free, he interlaces their fingers and gently squeezes, a small smile gracing his features even as his gaze stays on the ground before them, the rain pitter-pattering patterns onto the sidewalk.

"After my parents died, I kinda fell out of love with this city. Just felt like there was a memory around every corner. Didn't even matter that they were happy memories. Since my parents were gone, that happiness always felt so far away."

She feels herself frown as she looks up at him, gently squeezing his hand. "That must have been so hard."

"Even when I came back... I felt more like a tourist here than a local. Just... visiting a graveyard, I guess."

"But you don't feel that way anymore?"

"I don't think I ever really let it in again before now."

Stopping their walk, he turns to look out into the street. Here too, several streets over, a jazz musician plays from the window of his sitting room. The rain pours down and gathers, allowing small rivers to flow into the street.

"Your city is lovely," she tells him, ignoring how wet they both are yet again.

"I've been here for a few weeks now. Honestly feels kinda stupid that I'm only letting myself... actually enjoy being here now."

"It's probably what your great-uncle would have wanted, you know. Like, I get that he made you executor, but maybe he just did that to help you find the skull?"

Henry smiles, looking up at the sky. "Maybe." He chuckles. "Feels like the universe is trying to tell me something. Teach me a lesson, maybe."

"... what do you think the lesson is?"

"That it's not out to get me all the time. That the world isn't all bad." Turning to look at her, his smile widens slightly. "That there are people who will do more than just tolerate me."

"I definitely more than tolerate you."

He looks downright happy at that, gaze soft as he looks at her.

"I know you do."

"This is, um." She wishes she could put a sock in it right about now, because she really, really, really doesn't want to touch on this topic, but... it needs to be talked about, doesn't it? "This is probably me putting my foot in my mouth, and honestly, I kinda wish we could just skip ahead to the end of this particular talking point before I majorly screw this up, but... what about, um. What about... Summer? Does she still more than tolerate you too?"

"I broke up with her," he tells her, and Bess is fairly certain she hears a chorus of angels joining in alongside the jazz music. "Needless to say... she wasn't particularly happy to hear about that."

That cannot have been pleasant. "What happened?" A pause. "I saw that she tried to call you... kinda a lot?

He snorts. "Come on, let's keep walking. We haven't quite reached where I wanted to go just yet."

Falling back into step next to each other, they continue, Henry quiet for a moment before he continues. "She kinda... lost it. After you ran back into the house-- when we almost kissed and she called, you know?-- I answered the phone. She was mad I hadn't called her since the day before. I told her that she needed to stop taking me for granted, and obviously she didn't like that either. So since she was already angry anyway, I also told her to stop treating me like a piggy bank. That was when she started threatening to dump me. So I told her that that was fine, and that it saved me the trouble of doing it myself. After that... the phone calls started."

Oh, wow.

"Henry, that's amazing! You-- you stood up for yourself and everything! Oh, I wish you could've seen her face when you told her off like that! Although... admittedly, it might mean that you need to take out a restraining order. But that's a problem for Future Henry."

"She's still leaving me voicemails, actually. I finally just turned off my phone." He shakes his head. "Oh, here it is."

"What's here?"

"The place I wanted to go to. Hang on, I'll be right back."

While Henry goes halfway down the street to dip into a shop, Bess allows her body to move to the music. It's faint from this distance, but she can still hear it over the rain, if just barely.

Oh, this is just the best day.

When Henry emerges, it's with a bouquet of pink flowers-- roses, on closer inspection.

Bess is fairly certain her jaw is on the ground.

"Henry, what?"

"These are for you," he says, as though that should answer every one of the questions currently swirling in her mind. "If... you want them."

"Are you kidding? Of course I want them!" Already, they're as wet as she is, but she hardly cares. "Just... you know. Flowers-- especially roses-- usually come with... an occasion? What are they for?"

Henry takes her hand back.

"Look, I know I'm not exactly everyone's cup of tea. I'm... well, maybe not as clingy as Summer turned out to be, but clingy all the same. I haven't been shown affection since I was eight years old, so even if I try not to show it, or try to seem like I don't care, I do care. A lot. I also probably suck at the whole boyfriend thing, because obviously Summer saw something in me that was... exploitable, I guess. I doubt that sort of thing would happen to someone like Ned, seeing as he actually knows what he's doing in a relationship. I'm not experienced at all, my personality leaves a lot to be desired, and my interests are weird. I'm also about to have a free range iguana for a pet. I guess I also inherited a cemetery with my great-uncle's death?"

He sighs for a moment before continuing. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that I have no idea what I'm doing here, or even how to do it well, but... I also really like you, and those three days we spent together were... pretty much the best days of my adult life so far. And I really want to see more of you. If you want the same, I mean."

She holds her bouquet closer, eyes shining bright as she looks at him in absolute awe.

"Are you kidding? Of course I do! You weren't the only one who had fun those three days, you know!"

Henry smiles. "I actually drove into the city, so if you wanted to come back to the house... I know it wasn't exactly the best place for you last t--"

"You know I do!"

Somehow, the smile widens.

Bess ends up insisting on their stopping back at the hotel so she might grab her things. Before she's headed out the door, she tells Nancy that she might end up staying at Henry's longer than expected, something that Nancy thankfully doesn't even question. Instead, she sends her off with her blessing, insisting that Bess go have fun.

She certainly intends on doing just that.

Henry's car is on the older end, and also pretty beat up, but it works-- which is all a car really needs to do-- and he even opens and closes the door for her like a real gentleman.

He also seems like a really good driver, which her mom is bound to also love.

"Here," he says after they arrive, Henry closing the door behind them and holding his hand out. "I can take those. Put them in some water."

"Don't tell me you also know flower arranging," she tells him, handing the bouquet over to him as they head into the kitchen. "I might just faint."

"Nah, nothing like that."

Still, he clearly at least knows how to keep them fresh, Bess watching as he trims and cuts into the stems with a soft, dreamy sigh.

"You know, when you didn’t stop me from just leaving with Nancy, I got kinda worried that you’d changed your mind, like maybe kissing me was just so awful that you were like, oh, that’s enough of that, thanks but no thanks!”

It felt rational when she’d originally thought it up, first on the cab ride back into the city and then in their hotel after.

Judging by Henry’s current expression, it definitely wasn’t.

“Fuck. No, I didn’t want you to think that at all. I just—“ He stops, carefully placing the flowers into a vase. “There was a lot on my mind, honestly. And I didn’t want to keep subjecting you to this place. The upstairs bedroom kinda sucks, and all the food I had here at the time was either canned or had spoiled. Besides, you had come here to go on vacation with your friend, not to look after my moody ass. I didn’t want to take you away from that, that would’ve been kinda presumptuous of me, assuming that you’d just rather be here than on your vacation, seeing New Orleans.”

That… makes sense.

“I guess that means you went shopping?”

“Grocery shopping, yeah. Bought a few other things, too. I’m working on remodeling Renée’s former bedroom into something better, but it’ll take a while.”

“Yeah, course. Gotta scrub the place clean of all that evil.”

They return to the library along with the vase, the flowers taking pride of place on the fireplace mantle.

“How’d you know I like pink, anyway?”

That earns her a stare, Henry blinking at her. “Just an educated guess. Most of your things are pink. Kinda like if you thought that I like black.”

She snorts. “You? Like black?”

A soft laugh escapes him. “I know, you must be real shocked to hear it.” Turning his attention to his laptop, still standing, he glances back at Bess over his shoulder. “There’s something I wanted to do before but couldn’t, so…”

She watches as his media player pops open, Henry double-clicking on a particular title.

Oh.

“Isn’t that…”

“Yeah.”

Frank Sinatra’s “I’ve got you under my skin” plays, lovely and lilting as Henry steps up to her to offer her his hand.

She takes it.

“This was that last dance style I wanted to show you but couldn’t, y'know.”

As he draws her close, his body swaying gently alongside hers, it dawns on her that this is just slow dancing. Much like one might at prom.

Not that Henry comments on it. He just lets her rest her cheek on his shoulder with a soft sigh.

“Sorry to all the other dances… but this is definitely my favorite.”

“Mine too.”

Like this, her hand already in his, it’s easy for him to guide her slightly when he leans down to capture her lips with his own.

Screw romance novels, she’s only read of kissing like this in fanfiction.

The happiness on her face doesn’t disappear as they part even as she wants to call for another encore.

And another, and another.

“You can obviously stay as long as you like, but… I don’t want you to feel pressured into anything, so I made up both bedrooms upstairs for wherever you want to sleep.” When she doesn’t answer right away, he adds, “I mean, for whenever you decide you want to sleep, anyway. No pressure.”

Her mind reels.

Looking up at Henry now, Bess is utterly convinced that he would wait forever and a day for her to be ready. Even now, all that seems to matter to him is her comfort.

And while it’s starting to dawn on her exactly why Summer thought Henry to be such easy prey, the fact that she acted on that instinct in the face of his kindness only makes Bess despise her more.

She shakes her head, interlacing her fingers with Henry’s.

“I want to sleep with you, Henry."

As if the words fundamentally don't make sense together in his head, Henry looks at her like he's short-circuited, confusion taking center stage.

"What?"

Did she say something weird? She didn't, right? Normally, she waits until at least the third date, but seeing as they just had a date, and also already spent three whole days together before... this has gotta be at least the tenth date, right?

Either way, it totally counts.

"I mean, if you want to. No pressure, though."

"I--" Henry blinks at her, still clearly stunned at Bess' apparent willingness to share a bed with him, let alone do more than that. "Yeah."

"You sure? You look kinda nervous."

His gaze falls, Henry's smile turning wry. "If I look nervous, it's probably because I am. I haven't exactly... I mean, I don't..."

"Look," she interrupts, shifting her hold on his hand and taking his in both of hers. "I might not be particularly good at... y'know, dancing or music or mystery solving or defending myself against hordes of wasps... but I am good at some things. So just... let me lead."

He does.

Grabbing her handbag and guiding them both upstairs, she stalls upon reaching the upper landing, Bess turning to look at him. "Which one?"

A beat of hesitation follows, Henry looking back and forth between the two.

"I started throwing out Renée's things, but..."

"Come on," she says, deciding to default to the little room she called home not too long ago and opening the door for them both.

Barebones and sad before, it looks anything but now. The furniture is the same, sure, but-- curtains adorn the small window, a plush white rug sitting at the center of the room. Two warm lamps, one on the end table, one on the baseboard, make the room feel infinitely cozier. The previously empty corner at the foot of the bed now is home to a comfy-looking armchair, complete with a footstool. Even the prison bed has been given an upgrade with new pillows-- more than one, for starters-- and fresh sheets.

Just above the headboard hangs a small picture in sepia, featuring a young Bruno Bolet and his oddly-named dog, Grant.

Still a terrible name for a dog.

"Henry, this is so cute! How did you do all that so fast?"

"I mean, I didn't do it for me."

Wait, what?

Looking back at him seems to confirm her suspicious, though Henry's gaze turns a bit sheepish all the same. "I got... hopeful, after talking to Ned. Stupid, I know."

"Wellllll, seeing as I'm here and all, I think it's pretty safe to say that it really isn't stupid whatsoever."

"Though I was kinda disappointed after I changed the sheets," Henry adds, not quite meeting her gaze. "And I realized that it stopped smelling like you."

She feels her own smile widen, tugging Henry a bit closer. "Come on. We can fix that."

Admittedly, she's pretty eager to get out of her own still slightly damp dress, but this is no time to rush into things. Henry is nervous.

Setting her bag down and moving to sit at the edge of the bed, she pats the spot beside her. "Come sit."

She reclaims his hand as soon as she can, allowing her fingers to play with his as she smiles, tucking one foot under her thigh to shift to face him better.

She's about to kiss him, but before she has the chance to so much as think about doing anything at all, his phone starts buzzing in his pocket, Henry tugging it out to look at it.

Summer.

"She's still trying, huh?" he mutters, pushing the button to shut off his phone and setting it down on the nightstand. "Don't really want her interrupting this."

"... are you okay?"

A beat. "Yeah, fine." Except that Henry's expression is far less certain than she expects it to be when he turns to look at her. "What happens now?"

She sighs. "Look, if you don't feel ready, or you just don't feel like--"

"No!" This time, she isn't sure he could possibly look more certain if he tried. "I want to. Really. It's just--" He stops, stares at the ground. Lets out a long sigh. "Summer has kinda... fucked me up a bit."

"No kidding." Interlacing their fingers, she scoots a bit closer. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

"It's not even... all that much. Or even that bad. Just..." He rakes his fingers through his hair, expression sour. "The last time that we... did anything, she... laughed at me."

"What? When? Why?"

"Look, I'm a normal guy, all right? I know that we're not supposed to... finish too fast. But I'd never-- I mean, it's just... y'know, different. From your own hand."

Her eyes slowly widen. "Ohhhh."

"Maybe I was doing something wrong, or--" He shakes his head. "I didn't wanna ask anymore after that."

As much as her heart breaks for him at that, this ain't about her. This is about Henry. Bess huffs out a breath, hoping to inspire confidence with her own.

"Henry, look at me."

He doesn't have to be asked twice.

"Whatever happens, I've got you. I mean it. Or my name isn't Elizabeth Anne Marvin!"

The smile is back, a welcome sight.

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course I do."

She kisses him slow, soft, almost as if still afraid that she might scare him off by moving too quickly or too much-- but Henry just leans in to her, hand moving to cup her cheek as he sighs against her lips.

This part is easy. Not an ounce of hesitation.

So she decides to take it a bit further, parting her lips to him as her hands move to start tugging up the skirt of her dress. It ends up with her perched on her knees beside him, her hands moving to start unbuttoning Henry's shirt before she finishes getting her own clothes off all the way.

It's only fair.

It certainly seems to embolden Henry if nothing else, his hand moving to touch on her bare thigh, his hand slipping beneath the fabric of her dress still covering her.

"Here, let me help--"

Not that she was to the point of struggling with his shirt yet, but she's not about to deny him any agency in this, watching as Henry unbuckles his belt, unzips his trousers, and tugs his shirt out from beneath the waistband.

As his fingers start undoing the buttons from the bottom, she gets back to work, eager to meet him halfway.

Just like that.

She watches as he tugs it off, allowing the still-damp fabric to sail to the ground beside the bed before turning his attention back to Bess, seemingly looking for guidance.

So she kisses him again, her hand moving to the back of his neck to pull him closer, fully onto the bed this time only to briefly break the kiss, long enough to tug her dress off of her the rest of the way.

She's kissing him again before long, Bess' back hitting the bed with him above her. The pillow beneath her head is definitely new, not nearly as sad and lumpy as the old one.

When Henry draws back from their kiss, he looks enraptured.

"Hi," she says, a dreamy little smile on her face as she allows her fingers to run into his hair.

"Hey." Henry returns the smile readily, allowing his gaze to run down and back up along her body. "You're so beautiful."

She hears herself giggle. "Maybe. Or maybe you're just looking at me through rose-colored glasses, you know."

Henry doesn't miss a beat, just shakes his head. "No. That's not it."

He sounds so certain about it that Bess almost can't help but believe him.

"You haven't even seen all of me yet."

A smile comes over his features. "Do I get to?"

"Well, yeah. Obviously." Stealing a kiss from him, she leans up just far enough to unclasp her bra and toss it aside. "But only if I get the same reward."

Which might be something of a tall ask right about now, judging by the expression on Henry's face, fixated firmly on her chest.

"Henry?"

"S-sorry," he mutters, face red as he looks askance. "They're-- you're very pretty."

"I know they're great, you don't gotta be all worried about offending me. Just... so long as you still remember I'm up here too."

That draws his attention in an instant. "I don't think I could ever forget."

"Good." Her hands move down over his chest, his stomach, to end at his waistband. No abs to speak of, but for once, she doesn't care. She's not here for that, she's here for Henry. "Your turn? If you wanna."

Whatever nervousness he might have felt before is promptly swallowed down, Bess watching his Adam's apple bob in his throat as he pulls back onto his knees, pants and underwear quickly pushed down and discarded just as quickly.

"Oh," she says, her gaze falling between his legs.

"I know I'm... not a lot, but..."

"Are you kidding?" She must look as surprised as she feels judging by Henry's expression when he turns to look at her. "You're-- really big, Henry."

"What?"

"Definitely bigger than average."

Where on earth did he get the idea from that he wasn't?

"Here, lie back. I wanna do something. If you're okay with it."

"... what?"

"Touch you, obviously." Patting the spot beside her, she sits up.

"You--" Something in his brain appears to break. "You want to do that?"

"Obviously." She waits for him to lie back against the pillows before moving to situate herself between his legs. "Who wouldn't wanna do that?"

His gaze moves to the nightstand, upon which his phone sits, still turned off and still peacefully quiet.

"Oh." She supposes that makes sense, not that it doesn't upset her for him any less. "Right. Yeah, forget about her. She doesn't know how great you are, anyway."

Which might not be entirely true, judging by how many voicemails she's left him by now. But honestly? That's her loss. It's hardly Bess' fault that Summer decided to treat the best thing that had ever happened to her like garbage.

Now he can be her best thing to have ever happened to her.

Tucking her hair behind her ear, she ducks her head far enough to press a soft kiss at the base of Henry's cock, the motion-- something so small and insignificant-- enough all on its own to make him respond immediately, hips bucking up, strangled groan leaving him.

Her tongue follows in the wake of her lips, Bess letting out a soft giggle when she hears him swear.

"Fuck--"

Trying to look up at him proves challenging, Bess repeatedly brushing her hair out of her face before drawing back. "Ah, rats. Hang on, I think I brought a hairclip--"

She's about to reach down for her bag when Henry stops her, his hand reaching out to touch her cheek before running up into her hair.

"Let me help," he says, his voice soft as his gaze. "If that's okay."

"Yeah," she says, eyes wide as she turns to look at him. "Who would say no to that, honestly?"

Leaning back down, she takes him in her mouth as she feels Henry's hand run into her hair, a shuddered gasp leaving him. Like this, at least, she can watch him from her vantage point between his legs, Henry keeping her hair from falling into her face.

"You're so perfect," she hears him mutter, his breath coming faster as she wraps her hand around the base of his cock and sinks her mouth down around him. "Bess--"

She might not be great at a lot of things. Heck, she might not even be good at a lot of things, not like Nancy or George-- or even Deirdre. But this?

This she knows she's damn good at.

Henry certainly seems to agree, seemingly torn between keeping his eyes open and fixed on her and allowing himself to sink into the moment. So Bess decides to make the decision for him, redoubling her efforts to speed up and keep her tongue moving until he can't help but throw his head back.

"Bess, you-- I'm-- you gotta stop--"

His hand starts tugging gently at her hair to get her to pull off of him, but she makes no move to do so, just taking him deeper as her hand lets him go.

In its place, she sinks down as far as she can, taking him in her throat.

The hand that had previously been buried in his hair, trying to hold himself back from whatever orgasm seems to be encroaching, moves positions to grab hold of the sheets beside him instead.

Bess decides to use it as an opportunity, finding Henry's hand with her own to interlace their fingers.

"Bess--"

As pleading as he sounds, she doesn't let up, only meeting his gaze as she keeps moving her mouth atop him.

She's not sure what does it, if it's the hand-holding or the eye contact or her mouth wrapped around him, but Henry's hips stutter and release as he chokes back the sounds of his desire.

Much as she wants to tell him to be loud-- it's not as though they need to be quiet for Renée's sake-- her mouth is admittedly a little occupied right now. So she just squeezes his hand in hers, allowing him to ride out his peak.

She pulls off of him slowly, only once she's certain he's done, licking her lips as she looks up at him.

"You didn't need to do that," he says, still breathless, no small amount of remorse shining in his gaze.

"I know. I wanted to."

"I mean... are you sure? I thought you wanted... you know."

Oh, she knows. Boy, does she ever.

"What sort of girlfriend would I be if I couldn't get my boyfriend hard enough to go for round two? Just because Summer--"

Henry interrupts her, eyes wide. "You-- you really want that?"

"Want what? Round two? I mean, obviously."

"No, not that. To be my... girlfriend."

Bess blinks, stares. "What did you think we were doing?"

"Summer was the first girlfriend I ever had. I also thought she'd be the only girlfriend I'd ever have. I didn't expect anyone else to really want to... date me."

"We're gonna work on your self-confidence after this," Bess mutters, mostly to herself. Climbing up his body, she straddles him, leaning in to steal a kiss. "I want to be your girlfriend. All you have to do is say yes." A pause. "And maybe kiss me again."

He closes the distance between them in an instant, Henry pulling her close to kiss her, hard.

What she expect even less, however, is the way he suddenly flips them over, Bess' back hitting the bed.

When he draws back, she looks utterly enthralled.

"Yes," he says, as if it's truly just that simple. "Of course I want to be your boyfriend." A beat of hesitation follows. "Can I touch you?"

"What?" Is he kidding? He sure doesn't look like he is. "Of course you can."

Henry lets his eyes close for a moment, exhaling sharply before turning his attention back upon her face, her neck, her chest... lower, lower...

His hand starts skimming a path down her body, tracing her every curve, from her neck to her waist, pausing briefly to appreciate her perfect breasts-- which is honestly entirely fair; if he hadn't done that, she might have actually been insulted-- before moving lower still.

Fingers trail over her hips before moving inward, to her abdomen and lower still, Henry's breath suddenly coming faster as his thumb gently parts her folds.

Exploring, she realizes a moment later.

"... may I?"

She nods. "I did say you could tou-- oh!"

Two careful fingers slip inside of her, Bess gasping as she feels her body clench in response.

"Is that... bad?"

"No! No, it's-- it's good, keep going."

He does so.

Much as Henry clearly doesn't know, he's just as eager to learn, trying out this and that, checking each and every time to see if her gasps and whimpers are as good as they sound or... not.

Not that that seems to be a problem, Henry curling his fingers inside of her, his thumb unexpectedly finding her clit to elicit a sharp inhale from her.

This time, she rushes in to speak before he even has the chance to ask, Bess already nodding vigorously. "Yes! Yesyesyesyesyes. Do that again, and don't stop until I scream."

She could have just told him what to do, shown him where to touch, but-- this is so much better. Letting him discover for himself what to do, after Summer denied him so much agency, just feels right.

And Henry is a very fast learner. Not to mention eager to please. Her words certainly have an effect, his thumb only moving over her clit faster as Bess' fingers find Henry's hair to tangle in, dragging him close for another kiss.

His thumb's rhythm wavers, but his speed never does, Bess moaning into his mouth as she feels her own hips start jerking up.

When her orgasm does hit, he too is there to help her ride through it, his forehead on hers as she quivers in his hand.

"Ohhhhh... I'm gonna feel like jell-o tomorrow."

"Was that okay?"

Oh, right. He stopped asking how she was doing after he found her clit, didn't he?

"Oh, don't even pretend you don't already know!" Henry clearly doesn't, but her answer seems to be reassurance enough in response. Bess smiles. "Don't worry so much. You're doing great. You want to make me happy, and you're trying your best, and that's all anyone can ever ask of anyone." She lets out a huff. "We can also keep learning about what you like. Together."

He smiles, hope shining in his eyes. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Like right now."

He follows her gaze to between his legs, where her prophecy appears to have come true. Reaching out, Bess takes him in her hand, gently touching him, enough to make Henry momentarily forget to breathe.

"If you wanna."

Slowing her hand, she waits for his eyes to open again, Henry nodding until his expression turns sheepish. "Yeah. But I don't-- I mean, I didn't think I'd need... protection."

"A-ha! That's fine. A girlscout is always prepared! Or... something like that." Sitting up, she grabs hold of her bag to rifle through it, eventually uncovering a strip under pads, tampons, makeup, and a hairbrush. Tearing off one of them, she hands it to Henry. "Here you go."

It occurs to her as she watches him tear it open that he might have never put one on before, her hand moving to still his. "Do you need help?"

There's only a heartbeat's moment of hesitation before he shakes his head. "No, I can do at least that much. Hang on--"

It slides on with ease, Bess shifting back onto the pillows meanwhile.

He's back beside her in no time, staring down between them with something like awe in his gaze.

"Help?" he says when he turns to look back at her again, Bess wrapping one leg-- overeager, really-- around his waist. Though she takes him in her hand to guide him, he doesn't seem to need all that much guidance to begin with. His body moves as if on instinct, sliding home inside of her while she holds on to him.

"Mmnn..."

"I didn't hurt you, did I?"

She shakes her head. "Not at all. You feel... really, really nice, actually."

Her words seem to earn her a kiss, though she's fairly certain that earning them isn't necessary with Henry to begin with. He's here to love freely and without restraint.

She could get used to that.

Her other leg wraps around his middle to pull his body closer to hers, her forehead against his. "Is that okay... for you?"

It must be an absurd question, because he looks utterly dumbstruck for a second.

"You're perfect," he says simply, as though it were the answer to every question he's ever asked of the universe.

His movements are slow to start, but as with his fingers, he finds his footing fast, speeding up before long.

Bess' face and the noises leaving her must be doing a lot of her talking for her, because anytime she feels good, he zeroes in on that moment, repeating the trigger over and over again until she feels like she might come again just from having him inside of her.

Naturally, when his fingers find its way between their bodies, eagerly seeking out her clit, it's over for her. White flags up, full speed ahead, her body crashing right into her peak, cresting long before even Henry.

Not that he doesn't fight to follow soon after her, panting as he hitches her leg up over his hip only to sink deeper inside of her.

He doesn't say anything when he comes, just holds her close, his cock throbbing its release inside of her.

"Mmmm..." Bess says, a happy, if somewhat exhausted smile playing on her face as she turns to look at him and steals a kiss from his temple.

When Henry doesn't answer for a long moment, just staying nestled within the crook of her neck, she wonders for a split second if he's fallen asleep.

But he has not.

"I love you," she hears him say, almost too softly at first for her to fully believe her ears. He draws back to look at her before she can so much as think to question it however, his expression a familiar one. She's seen it again and again over the course of their mystery. Inscrutible. Impossible to read.

Not so, it would seem. Not anymore.

"There's a painting," he says slowly, "created in 1818 by Caspar David Friedrich. It's called Wanderer above the Sea of Fog. I'm not sure if you've seen it."

Why are they talking about art history right now? Not that she minds, it just seems like a strange topic for pillow talk. She blinks.

"I might've. What's it look like?"

"Sublime," he answers instantly. "Awesome. In-- in the literal sense. You look at it, and a sense of awe comes over you. It features a man standing in the foreground, on some rocky cliffs. His back is to us, as if he's just like us, a viewer of the painting."

"What's he looking at?"

"Mountains. Cliffs, forests. There's so much fog that it looks like it's overwhelming the view, almost like an ocean. Waves crashing upon rocky shores."

She frowns, thinking back. "That... kinda sounds familiar. What about it?"

"It's my favorite. It's a, uh, Romanticist work? Kind of emblematic of the period. Not the point. The point is... I don't think I ever actually understood it before now. I... thought I understood the sublime. I've read Goethe, Poe, Rilke. But... now that I'm looking at you..." He shakes his head. "Nothing can top this. I'm not an artist, but if I was, I think I'd go mad trying to put this down on canvas. I'm no writer, but I don't think there are enough words in this language or any of them to capture this." He hesitates for a moment. "I think... if I could only bottle this moment and keep it forever, I would."

Well, that's maybe the most romantic thing she's ever been told. "I mean... maybe it doesn't have to end?"

"Aren't you going home soon?"

She ignores the part where he'll be going back to River Heights soon enough as well, smiling as she reaches up to brush her fingers through slightly damp hair.

"I don't have to."

It takes a moment, but Henry all but lights up as he realizes what she's suggesting. He clears his throat, expression suddenly sheepish. "You know," he says, doing his best to sound casual, "if you wanted to stay longer... I'm still on summer break, so I don't have to go back to teach or anything for a while yet, and I dunno how much longer the executor stuff is gonna take... obviously, you don't have to, or anything, but..."

She shakes her head. "No, I want to! And whenever you're ready to go home, we can road trip back up to River Heights."

"You'd really do that with me?"

"Well, someone's gotta be there when Summer tries to break your windows in, right?" She mirrors the grin on his face. "Come on. Let's go get cleaned up." A pause. "Oh, we can shower together!"

Judging by Henry's expression, he doesn't mind that idea at all.

"I think that's everything," Bess mutters to herself after placing her handbag in the foot of the passenger seat, just in time to see Henry emerging with a plastic carrier, Iggy in tow.

It's still mostly dark out, early enough in the morning for them to make good time on the road, hopefully avoiding the worst of the city's morning traffic yet. As much as Henry might be a night owl, convincing him to get up early with her for the drive was shockingly easy. She didn't even need to break out the big guns of reasoning that, this way, she might get to share her favorite color of the sunrise with her, that perfect peach-pink.

Might being the operative word. It's always a toss-up with sunrises, after all.

Then again, there's still tomorrow's drive to consider, and all the ones after that, the ones she hopes to still come.

"Still need to lock up," he says as he joins her, putting the box on the hood of the car. "But this should be the last of it."

"Oh, Iggy is going to hate this, isn't he..."

"He'll have the run of the place back in River Heights again... and in our hotel room, for that matter."

Which the hotel maids and attendants will be less than thrilled about. If they find out about him.

"I'm sure it'll be fine." What hotel managers don't know can't hurt them. She's a firm believer of that fact. "Besides, Iggy is housebroken... enough. And it's not like we're driving around with a bumper sticker that says Iguana on Board. Although now that I've said that, I kinda wanna get that for you for your birthday."

As skeptical as Henry looks, he also seems to be trying remarkably hard to suppress a smile. "Well, I won't say no."

"Of course you won't, my gifts are always very thoughtful. Oh, speaking of! I called Nancy to let her know that we'll be back by tomorrow and I kinda already invited you out to Scoop with everyone. Is that... okay? I can still call it off, if you want."

A beat of hesitation follows. "Nah, sounds good. I want to get to know your friends."

"Oh, it'll be like a group date! And then George, the third... uh, fifth wheel..." She shakes her head, mostly to herself. "Eh, she won't mind."

Henry throws her a smile. Opening the back door to pile Iggy into the back seat finds him already scuttling around his temporary enclosure. Too small, no doubt, considering the usual size of his territory that he's become accustomed to.

Her luggage is next.

"We're both gonna be exhausted after driving for ten hours, you know that, right?" he asks, closing the door and rounding the car to pop the trunk. "You sure you still wanna smuggle Iggy into the room that explicitly disallows pets?"

No! No, of course she isn't! "I'm sure they just meant cats and dogs. Besides, if anyone asks, we can just tell them that it's okay because Iggy is very cute."

"I'm sure that'll convince them."

Shutting the trunk, Henry heads up to the house to lock up. There's no doubt that they'll have forgotten something or other, but at worst, it'll give them an excuse to come back together. Another roadtrip, maybe.

He's about to get into the car when Henry turns to look up at the sky. Following his gaze, she finds a sea of cloud cover, a drop of rain hitting her face, and then another.

"Well, fuck," Henry mutters, scowling as he hurriedly gets into the car and waits for her to get in alongside before putting the key in the ignition and turning it. "Might not get that sunrise after all. Sorry about that."

As though it were his fault. Finding his hand over the console, Bess gives it a squeeze, shooting him a small smile. "That's okay," she says, all confidence, as if to make up for the lack of his own. "I don't mind the rain. Not if it's with you."