"Nan?"

"In here," Nancy Drew called back, from the couch in her living room, keeping her gaze on the television set even as her longtime boyfriend and occasional coconspirator Ned Nickerson made his way around to sit beside her. She fought a smile as she felt his gaze travel from her, to the television set, then back to her face, which he gently took in his hands and turned toward him.

"I thought I came to my girlfriend's house," he mused, glancing from her to the television again. "But I seem to be in Bizarro River Heights, because if I didn't know any differently I'd swear you were Bess Marvin."

Nancy giggled, then leaned forward, closing her eyes as he obeyed the magnetic pull between them, his lips finding hers. "That enough to prove it's me?"

"No," Ned mumbled, smiling, sliding his fingers into her hair as he kissed her again, slowly, so deeply that she felt gooseflesh rise up and down her arms, a shiver sliding up her spine. "Afraid not."

Sighing, Nancy untangled herself and, her lips reddened from his kiss, turned her attention reluctantly back to the television. Onscreen, a blonde woman was speaking rapidly into a cell phone, occasionally rising from her perch behind an obviously fake shrubbery to spy on a couple conveniently making out on the other side of an uncurtained window. The music rose to a dramatic crescendo as the camera tightened on the woman's face, her lips pursing in anger, frustration, or maybe just mild annoyance. Nancy couldn't really tell, the woman's features were so paralyzed. Then the screen faded to black, for the cut to commercial.

"I know we're going to be there tomorrow, so why watch it today?"

"To get a handle on my suspects," Nancy replied, sounding less than convinced herself. "Not that I understand any of what's going on. Bess hasã"

Right on cue, the house phone rang, and Nancy turned to answer it, her voice jumping as Ned took the opportunity to trail his fingers over the bare skin at the small of her back. "Hello?"

"Okay, that was Celeste in the bushes spying. The couple was Rock and Tricia, and Rock is Celeste's son, we think, except that of course he might belong to someone else. For a while Tricia was his stepsister, but that was a while back, andã"

Nancy ran a hand through her hair, trying to concentrate as Bess reeled off the recent plot twists. Bess Marvin, one of Nancy's best friends, had been following Star's Crossing ever since its debut four months earlier. The soap opera centered around a group of close-knit prep schoolers whose parents had all been involved years before, and was itself a spinoff of another, more successful show. Because it aired in the prime time slot when children were home from school but their parents probably weren't, its popularity had been steadily growing.

"His name is really Rock?" Nancy said, casting a longing glance at the mystery novel she'd been trying to read for her past three cases. So far she had made it through the first chapter.

"Have you been listening to anything I've been saying?"

"It's just hard to keep them all straight. I thought the show had only been on for a little while."

"Yeah, but it all builds on Secrets of Night, and Mom has been watching that since I was five years old. So there's a whole lot of backstory."

Nancy groaned and rubbed her brow. "We have an early flight. Maybe I should just go to bed."

"It's three-thirty in the afternoon!" Bess gasped in shock. "Look, I'll make you index cards," she said, her voice speeding up with excitement. "And head shots! I can run to the grocery store and get Soap Opera Digest as soon as the show's over, andã"

Nancy glanced back at the television set in time to see the scene fade back in, and Bess squeaked out a hasty "Gotta go, bye" just before the couple on the bed came up for air.

"See, that's what we should be doing," Ned said approvingly, as the guy Nancy had dubiously christened Rock ran his hand over Tricia's stomach possessively. Watching it like this was bad enough; she couldn't even imagine what it was going to be like, to be on set for a week.

Lacing her fingers through his as Ned slipped his other arm around her waist, Nancy turned to him and said, "So, did Evan tell you anything else?"

Evan Chandler, married to Ned's cousin Laurel and talent agent at an agency in San Francisco, had called Ned a few days earlier to see if he and Nancy would be interested in helping him with a problem. Evan represented Mallory Leigh, one of the seven main players on Star's Crossing, and Mallory had come to him when unusual things had started happening on set. Dana Partin's dressing room had been vandalized, and a week later everyone who had any food from craft services had come down with food poisoning, shutting down the set for days. Then, during a catwalk scene, three standing lights had crashed onto a line of models, sending two girls to the hospital. Taken separately, the incidents could have been explained away. Evan wasn't so sure anymore.

Since Nancy had helped Evan and his boss during a previous investigation, and she and Ned hadn't had some time to themselves for a while, Nancy had jumped at the chance to take another trip to San Francisco, with Bess along as her expert, and George Fayne, Bess's cousin and Nancy's other best friend, as backup.

"He said nothing's happened on the set in the past few days, but that hasn't really helped the mood. Everything's waiting for the other shoe to drop. Or maybe a lot of shoes, they're not really sure." He ducked in and kissed her neck softly. "I can't wait to have you all to myself for a few days," he murmured into her skin.

"Yeah," Nancy agreed, closing her eyes and tilting her head back, shifting deeper into the couch as she let the rapid dialogue from the soap drift away. "I'll get this solved in twelve hours and we'll spend the rest of the time sightseeing."

"Mmm-hmm," Ned murmured unconvincingly, his fingers sliding under her shirt. Nancy had just buried her hand in his hair, bringing him back up to her for another kiss, when they were both startled by the sound of the kitchen door slamming. Ned stole one last quick kiss before they jumped apart, each running a hand through their hair and pulling self-consciously on their clothes.

"Nan, you home?"

"In the living room," Nancy called back to their housekeeper, running her palms over her cheeks as though she could so easily remove the slow blush creeping over them. "Just doing some research for the case."

"I saw Ned's car out front," Hannah called, over the sound of cabinets opening and closing, cans being stacked. "Is your young man staying for dinner?"

"I'd love to," he replied in a low voice, turning to his girlfriend. "But I have a few things I need to take care of before we go out of town."

Nancy pulled a pout. "He said he can't," she called back to Hannah, keeping her eyes on his. "Unless you make a chocolate cake. That's the only way he'll stay."

When Hannah poked her head through the kitchen door a moment later, Nancy was squealing in laughter as Ned pinned her down on the couch and tickled her. "You're in luck, I found a new recipe book in the mail today. Pecan fudge cake it is."

Taking advantage of Ned's momentary distraction at the thought of one of Hannah's cakes, Nancy shoved him off her and pulled herself back up. "You are a total lifesaver," she beamed at Hannah.

"I'll leave you two alone," Hannah winked, and as soon as the kitchen door swung shut she could hear their muffled laughter again.

Twenty-four hours later the four of them were in what would otherwise have been a rather roomy rental car, if not for Bess's luggage. George mutinously kicked at a reinforced makeup case while Bess leaned through the gap between the front seats.

"Seriously, you guys," Bess said, her voice faint. "If we go down one more hill I am going to be sick."

Nancy glanced back at Bess, her eyes widening in concern when she saw how pale her friend was. "We're close, right?" she asked Ned, who had a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel. Another row of townhouses zoomed by the windows.

"It's not more than a block away," Ned reassured Bess.

"Man, look at that incline," George marveled. "We jog up that every morning and you'll be in great shape before we leave."

Bess made gagging noises in answer, glaring daggers at her cousin.

Nancy, half-smiling, turned back to the map, then peered at the house numbers. "Hey, hey, we're getting there..."

Laurel Chandler swung the door wide to answer their knock, and greeted her cousin with a hug. "Ned! How was the flight?"

"Ugh, don't want to talk about it," Bess muttered, although she looked significantly better than she had in the car. Her color was finally coming back.

"It was all right," Ned said, smiling. "You remember Nancy?"

Nancy smiled at Laurel, expecting a handshake, but received a familiar half-hug in response. As Ned introduced Bess and George, Nancy hung back, her suitcases still in hand, glancing around the well-appointed house.

The last time she had been here, she and Ned had been going through a rough patch. After a summer in Europe and an infatuation with an Australian detective, Nancy hadn't been sure what she wanted anymore, and Ned, sensing her confusion and distance, had let her drift further while he pursued a minor acting career. An acting career that had put him in close proximity to dozens of beautiful women, Nancy remembered wryly, picturing one pretty face in particular. Even if Ned had never really admitted it to her, she knew he had enjoyed the attention and flattery Amanda Syms had lavished on him. It was only the jealousy she had felt then, that she still felt when she thought of it, that had made her realize she still cared about Ned.

And here she was, taking on another case that guaranteed he'd be surrounded by beautiful women again. This time, though, she had never been more sure that she and Ned were supposed to be together. And Bess was crazy at the thought that she might be able to serve as Nancy's eyes and ears on the set of one of her favorite soaps.

"So do you think after we take our luggage upstairs we might be able to go to the set?" Bess remarked, and Nancy had to stifle a laugh.

"But I thought you were incredibly carsick," George said, hoisting her backpack onto her shoulder.

"Well, the sooner we get there, the more time I have to get over it," Bess remarked brightly, lifting an overnight case.

Nancy laughed at the both of them, following Laurel and Ned upstairs. The picture window at the end of the hall gave a breathtaking view of the neighborhood, the lines blurred by the fading light. Back home it was probably already dark, Nancy remembered, then reminded herself to call her father as soon as she could, to let him know they had arrived safely.

"I thought Bess and George could share this room," Laurel said, pushing open the first door. Bess drew in a swift breath in pleasure, taking in the satin comforter, the sleek and stylish furniture, and of course the splendid view. "We have an air mattress if you don't like to split a bed."

"We manage," George said dryly, setting down her bags. "It's almost cute, now, the way she snores."

Bess let out a shocked gasp and Laurel, Nancy, and Ned left them trading barbs as the headed to the next room. "And I thought you and Ned could share this one."

There were no twin beds in this room either. Nancy registered the single large mattress, the head of which was covered in a vast intricate spread of throw pillows, and exchanged a glance with Ned, who shrugged a little, a smile playing with his mouth. Nancy knew Ned's entire family considered them practically married, even if Ned hadn't quite gotten around to asking her the question formally. She still couldn't help but feel a little taken aback.

"It is a gorgeous room," Nancy murmured, taking a few steps forward, rubbing the fine material of the duvet cover between her fingers.

Laurel smiled, her work done. "So what about the rest of Bess's luggage?"

"I'll get it," Ned sighed, martyr-like. "Unless you have some professional movers on standby. The girl is notorious."

Laurel and Ned headed back downstairs and Nancy sat down on the bed. She should be thinking about the case, planning strategy, not picking out which nightgown she was going to wear, she chastised herself, then set to unpacking.

Much to Bess's disappointment, even though she was still a little pale from the car ride into town, Evan suggested that they wait until the following day to visit the set. Over homemade vegetarian lasagna and garlic bread, Nancy and Evan discussed the case.

"So we can get there early?" Bess piped up, her eyes gleaming. George shot her a shocked look.

"I thought you," George began, only to cut herself off. Nancy detected the sound of a shoe sole against wood and thought she knew why. "Well, if you want to go so early, I say we get up at five and go for a jog," she said wickedly.

"How early do they start filming?" Nancy interjected, bringing the conversation back to a neutral topic.

"They do start early," Evan said apologetically. "They work long hours, too. It's good recognition for an actress: it gets her name out there, provides other scouts with a lot of material to see how good she is. But the work itself is unrelenting, and the shooting schedules are insane. When the accidents started it was like the last straw."

Nancy took a sip of wine. "Can you think of anyone who would have a motive to do this? Any particular vendetta against the actors, anyone who would have something to gain by this?"

Evan blew out a long breath. "There are so many people involved, it's hard to think of someone who would actively want to do this," he admitted. "After the strike business was hard around here, and people needed work wherever they could get it. Having a new show and steady work was a godsend." He ran his hand through his hair. "The actresses who got hurt during the catwalk scene were extras."

"But was that just due to circumstance?" Nancy replied quickly. "Maybe the lights were rigged to fall at a certain time?"

"They could've been," Evan admitted slowly. "You'd have to talk to the set people, they'd have a better idea."

Laurel was watching the rapid-fire conversation with some interest. Ned, who was sitting next to his cousin, leaned over to whisper to her, "Better get used to this."

His tone was joking, but Nancy could hear the resignation under it. She took a thoughtful bite of her dinner to cover her dismay. Well, she'd wanted them to have time together during this trip, she reflected. Sharing a bed certainly would do it.

"The food poisoning is a little murkier," she said, then thought better of it when Bess paled visibly, glancing down at her own plate. "But the dressing room being vandalized," she rushed on, looking expectantly at Evan.

"Everything Mallory told me about that sounded too crazy to be true, and she admitted that she hadn't actually seen it," Evan replied. "If you get there early enough maybe you can talk to Dana while she's in makeup."

"Sounds like we'd better get to bed early tonight," Ned said, in a neutral enough voice, but Nancy felt a small shiver make its way up her spine. She slid her fork under another bite of lasagna, but her appetite was gone, her stomach full of butterflies. After the meal Nancy helped Laurel clear the table, while George, Bess, Ned, and Evan started a spontaneous game of gin rummy in the living room.

"The sleeping arrangements are okay, aren't they?" Laurel asked softly, her brows knit, as she slid the last plate into the dishwasher.

Nancy swallowed, then gave Laurel a smile. "It's fine. Really."

"Good," the other woman sighed. "And if you and Ned do happen to have a fight, you can always put him on the air mattress."

Nancy chuckled, even though she was feeling nervous again. "Good point."

In the living room, as soon as they entered, Ned stood, his brown-eyed gaze intent on Nancy. Evan glanced up, but when Laurel took the hand her cousin had abandoned, everyone's attention returned to the game, and Ned reached for his girlfriend's hand.

"Hey."

"Hey," Nancy said, squeezing back. "I wanted to ask you about something..."

They were halfway up the stairs together when Evan's cell phone started to ring. Even though Nancy was still figuring out how to talk to Ned about the situation they had found themselves in, she couldn't help but listen as Evan became more agitated.

"I can't believe it," he said in exasperation, as he hung up the phone. "I have to get out to the lot, now."

"What's wrong?" Laurel asked.

"There's been a huge fire!"