Stay Tuned for Danger

by Carolyn Keene

“Today we’re going to do all those corny things you see in old movies about New York,” Rick said. “Like go on a boat trip around Manhattan and to the top of the Empire State Building. Bess is a very old-fashioned girl,” he explained to his friend.

  “Rick Arlen! I am not!” Bess protested. Secretly, though, she was flattered by his remark.

  By the time they got to the West Side pier, the four of them were relaxed and having a great time. Before leaving the limo, Rick put on sunglasses and an old hat. That way, most of his face was covered. “Just normal precautions,” he insisted. “These go everywhere with me. Otherwise, the fans—well, I’m sure you can imagine.”

  “I think you look adorable like that,” Gilbert said. Rick punched his friend lightly on the arm, and they all piled out of the car.

  “So, Gil, how did you get involved in show business?” Nancy asked while they waited on deck for the cruise to start.

  “Oh, now we’re going way back—to the day little Freddie Gilbert was born in Illinois in a log cabin— No, no, just kidding. How did I get involved in show business, you ask. Thank goodness someone cares besides my mother.”

  In spite of his nonstop chatter and putdown humor, Nancy decided she liked Gil. He seemed a little lonely, somehow, and afraid to be just himself, but instinct told her he had a good heart.

  “You see, my real name is Fred Gilbert. I had to change it after I got to New York. There already was a Fred Gilbert out there in the show business stratosphere. And so Gilbert Frost was born. But he had the wrong nose. So I changed that, too. And then I had to darken my hair. By the time I was finished, the same club owners who used to tell me to get lost were dying to sign me. What can I tell you? It’s a crazy business. Maybe someday I’ll even make enough to pay my rent. And if I’m really lucky, I might even hit it big like old Rick here.”

  “I’m sure you will,” Nancy said, looking up.

  The view from the boat was spectacular—the skyline sparkled in the noon sun.

  But as the boat trip continued and they finally circled the northern tip of Manhattan, Nancy couldn’t help feeling that something was wrong. All through the ride, she had been keeping an eye on Rick. And she noticed other people were watching him, too. Nancy saw two women look at him, jab each other, and whisper. And a child tugged on his father’s sleeve and pointed toward Rick. A portly man was also watching him, although he pretended to be looking at something else.

  As the boat swung into the final leg of the tour, Nancy recognized the portly man. He had been the one cursing Rory Danner on the tour of the set just two days before.

  “Attention, ladies and gentlemen. We will be docking in a few minutes. Please disembark via the white stairs on the port side of the boat. That’s the left, to all you landlubbers,” the tour guide instructed.

  “That’s him! That’s Rick Arlen!” a young woman suddenly shrieked.

  An excited murmur went through the crowd, and everyone turned to look at Rick.

  “Take the hat off, Rory! We know it’s you!” a woman called out good-naturedly. The group laughed, and Rick cooperated.

  “Ah, my fans.” He smiled and waved. “You’re the greatest—all of you! I love you madly!”

  “Rick, may I have your autograph?” a woman cried happily. Everyone crowded around him and began rifling through their bags for pens, too.

  “Write one for my niece, Rick!”

  “Oh, Mr. Arlen, thank you!”

  Rick was standing by the guardrail signing the backs of envelopes, napkins, address books, and matchbook covers. Suddenly, the man who had been on the studio tour lunged forward, his eyes wild, his voice like thunder. “You killed Jill Rowan, and now you want to destroy Serena Livingstone. Well, I won’t let you! I’m not going to let filth like you near her! You’re going to die, Rory Danner—right now!”

  With that, the man lunged for Rick, sending him halfway over the rail. He was about to plunge into the river!

  Chapter Eight

  LEAPING FOR RICK, Nancy and Gilbert grabbed him just in time and pulled him safely back over the rail. Nancy felt a pair of hamlike hands on her shoulders. She turned to face the assailant and delivered a swift kick to his left shin. Then she seized his hand and flipped him head over heels onto the deck. The ship’s crew then held him pinned against the deck until the ship had docked and the police arrived, followed by a couple of reporters.

  “Okay, fella, let’s go,” a police officer said, leading the man to a patrol car. “You’ll feel a lot better after a nice long rest.”

  “I killed Rory Danner and the world will be a better place for it!” the man exclaimed. “He was filth! Filth!”

  “Sure, sure,” another police officer said, agreeing. “You can tell the doctor all about it.”

  As their limo pulled out of the parking lot, the crowd cheered Rick. He was leaning out the window, smiling and waving.

  “Thank you, everyone!” he called. He slipped back into the car. “Well, thank goodness that’s over. And thank you, Gil. And Nancy.” Turning to Bess, he added, “You certainly know how to pick your friends, love.”

  Gil still seemed a bit shaken. “You know, Rick, the way you were hanging over the edge there, I thought you were history.” He shuddered. “I’m going to sign up for karate lessons next week. I want to be prepared for fame.”

  “Let’s just put the whole thing behind us, okay? Now it’s time to celebrate!” Rick grinned devilishly. “Why not go for the best! Driver—take us to Trump Tower!”

  Later, riding up the escalator from the lobby of the brass-and-marble palace, Bess and Nancy looked around in wonder. The place, was amazing!

  “This makes the River Heights mall look like a mom-and-pop store,” Nancy whispered. She looked all around her as they rose ever higher through the glittering atrium.

  “Tell me about it!” Bess said enthusiastically. “Rick, I can’t believe people actually live in this building.”

  “They do,” he assured her. “There are apartments here that sell for millions.”

  “Seriously?” Bess couldn’t believe it. “What do they have, solid gold faucets?”

  “Almost,” Gil replied. “You’d be amazed at what people spend their money on.”

  “Cappuccino, anyone?” Rick broke in cheerfully. They had just come to an attractive cafe on an upper level.

  Soon they were all sitting around a table sipping cups of the strong Italian coffee.

  “You know what being here makes me realize?” Bess was saying. “I’ve realized that I’d make a great millionaire.”

  “I think you’d make a lovely one, too,” Rick said, flirting. “In fact, I saw something in a shop across the way that I think you should have. Be right back.”

  A minute later Rick came back to the table, holding a silk scarf printed in pastel geometric shapes. It matched Bess’s outfit perfectly.

  “Oh, Rick!” she exclaimed. “It’s beautiful!”

  “Wear it and think of me,” he murmured.” “So, everyone, are you ready to scale the heights? It’s such a clear beautiful day—what do you say we catch the view from the Empire State Building?”

  “Sounds great!” Bess was beaming. Anything Rick said would have sounded great to her.

  “I used to sell souvenirs at the observatory,” Gil threw in. “That was when I still worked for a living.” He straightened up and helped Nancy from her chair. “Madame?” he said. “Your chariot awaits. That is, Rick’s chariot awaits,” he said, correcting himself.

  By the time they reached Thirty-fourth Street and made their way up to the top, the sun had slipped much closer to the horizon. Rick and Bess, their arms around each other’s waists, stood at the observatory’s edge, gazing into the distance. Gil had stopped to chat with his old coworkers at the souvenir shop, so Nancy wandered off by herself.

  Up that high, the wind cut like a knife, seeming to come from all directions. It blew Nancy’s hair wildly around her as she stared down at the magical city. The noise from the street sounded lik
e a low moan up there, almost human and full of sadness. It made Nancy shudder for a moment.

  As she looked out over the city below her, she felt a growing sense of dread. The police had arrested the deranged fan that afternoon, but she was still worried. In the late afternoon sun, Nancy had a sudden, powerful feeling that someone else was after Rick. Someone who was not only crazy, but also clever, determined, and deadly. Nancy felt an icy shiver go through her. Someone was waiting down on the street—she was sure of it—waiting to end Rick Arlen’s life.

  Bess scooped up one last mouthful of chocolate mousse pie and sighed contentedly. “What a dinner! I’m in heaven.”

  “Not bad,” Gil agreed, glancing around at the glass walls of Tavern on the Green. Positioned on the edge of Central Park, the view out the windows of the restaurant was of trees decorated with tiny white lights. The park looked like an enchanted fairyland, in direct contrast to the city around it.

  When the check came, Rick picked it up. “What’s money for if not to treat friends?” he asked, placing a gold credit card on the small black lacquered tray the waiter had brought.

  “What a day!” Bess remarked happily. “What a night, too! I’ve had such a fabulous time today, Rick . . . thanks to you.”

  Rick looked genuinely pleased as he took her hand in his. “There’s just one more thing I’d like to do. I could use a little exercise after this dinner, and it’s such a great night—why don’t we take a walk beside the park?”

  Bess’s eyes were twinkling with delight. Rick seemed to be having a hard time saying good night to her!

  “A walk sounds wonderful,” Nancy said.

  “Good, we’re on!” Gil agreed.

  Stepping out onto the sidewalk along the park, Rick and Bess linked arms. They were completely caught up in each other as they giggled and joked, walking ahead of the other two. Nancy watched them carefully as she half listened to Gil, who was telling her the rest of his life story.

  “Then I realized I had to change my material,” he was saying. “Nobody goes for rubber-chicken jokes anymore. So I began writing myself a whole new act. . . .”

  Nancy couldn’t help worrying about Bess. She was heading for trouble, Nancy was sure of that. Even if Rick was sincere, how could it last? They lived miles from each other. And a broken heart was the last thing Bess needed.

  The sound of a speeding car made Nancy spin around. A taxicab jumped its lane and screeched diagonally across the street. Suddenly a broken heart was the least of Bess’s troubles. The out-of-control cab was headed onto the sidewalk, aimed straight at Rick—and Bess!

  Chapter Nine

  “WATCH OUT!” NANCY screamed. Racing up to pull Bess away from the oncoming taxi, she managed to get just close enough to grab her friend’s arm as the taxi swerved onto the sidewalk. It barely missed the stunned Bess before jumping the curb back onto the street and careening away.

  Bess stood absolutely still in the middle of the sidewalk. “Nancy? Am I okay?” she asked in a dazed voice.

  “Your shirt is torn, but I think you’re fine.”

  Suddenly Bess looked around frantically. “Rick! Where’s Rick?”

  “Right here,” he answered. They all turned and saw Rick’s head poking out from behind a tree. “See? I told you it would take a silver bullet to get me! Not even a scratch,” he added, proudly showing them his arms and legs.

  “Don’t tell m-me that was just an accident,” Gil stammered, running a hand nervously through his hair. “He never even hit the brakes.”

  “He’s right, Rick.” Bess seemed quite shaken now. “Maybe there’s more than one crazy fan after you.”

  Nancy bit her lip and thought for a moment. This latest incident confirmed her worst fears. She knew now that the crude attempt on Rick’s life on the boat trip was just a sideshow. The main event was still to come.

  Gil was still shaking. “Well, I don’t know, about you folks,” he said, “but I’ve had about all the excitement I can take for one day. Next time we get together, Rick, remind me to take out extra insurance.”

  “Hey, calm down. It’s the price of life in the fast lane, that’s all.” Rick laughed nervously. “Come on, I’ll give you a lift home on my way downtown. Bess?” Turning to Bess, he pulled her gently to him and gave her a lingering kiss.

  They walked back to the limo, and Nancy and Gil climbed in. Nancy turned her head away, embarrassed, while Bess and Rick stood on the sidewalk. They were whispering, probably about what had just happened.

  Nancy frowned. Things looked bad, very bad indeed. It was as if Bess hadn’t even noticed that she and Rick had almost been killed!

  “It’s just a feeling I get, Ned, but it’s a strong one. Something’s very wrong here.” Nancy flung herself down on the dark blue sofa and filled her boyfriend, Ned Nickerson, in on everything that had happened since she’d arrived in New York. “I only wish you weren’t so far away.” She sighed wistfully.

  “Same here,” Ned agreed. “I miss you.”

  “I miss you, too. And I could really use your help on this case.”

  “Can I do anything from here?”

  “Honestly, I don’t think so. Except share a little of your wonderful insight. I’m completely baffled by the whole thing right now.”

  “Sounds like you need some on-the-scene help. I’d be on the next flight, but I have a big paper due. I do want you to promise not to take any unnecessary chances, though.”

  “Come on, Ned, you know me. I’m always very careful,” Nancy said, teasing him.

  “Yes, I know. That’s why I want you to keep a low profile. I want you to be in one piece the next time I see you.”

  Nancy blew a kiss into the phone and said goodbye. After she hung up, she smiled sadly. If only Ned were able to meet her in New York . . .

  Just then, the front doorbell rang. Nancy went to open it, and before her stood Mattie Jensen. Her rich auburn hair was pulled up in a ponytail, and she was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. She looked almost as young as Nancy.

  “Hiya, kiddo!” the actress said, bubbling. “Eloise told me she was going to the ballet tonight, so I thought you guys might want a little company.”

  How could anyone as beautiful and successful as Mattie Jensen be all alone at ten o’clock on a Saturday night? Nancy wondered. It didn’t seem possible. But there she was. She’s lonely! Nancy realized.

  “Sure. Come on in,” she said. “Bess is in the shower.”

  “Hey, I read about what happened to you today on the boat trip. After everything he’s been through, Rick must be glad they caught the guy. They said the man tried to throw him overboard.”

  “Hmm-hmm,” Nancy replied, wishing she could have shared Mattie’s sense of relief.

  “They said the guy was released from a mental institution a few weeks ago.”

  “I didn’t hear that, but from the way he was acting . . .” Nancy’s voice trailed off.

  “Oh, Nancy, I’m so relieved. Now I’ll finally be able to sleep at night!” Mattie smiled softly, but Nancy just turned away. “What’s the matter, Nancy? Are you still upset?”

  Nancy heaved an enormous sigh. “Mattie, I hate to say this. I know you’re not going to like it, but I don’t think the man they arrested today is the person we’re after.”

  “But—but they said he’d been stalking Rick for weeks.”

  “He may have been, but I don’t think he’s the one who tampered with the light, and sent the chocolates.”

  Mattie gazed at Nancy in amazement. Then she nodded. “Okay. Tell me why you think it isn’t the same person.”

  “Two reasons. For starters, someone tried to run Rick over tonight.”

  “No!” Mattie exclaimed.

  “I’m afraid so. Don’t try to tell Rick that—he insists it was a hit-and-run accident. But I was there, Mattie. The cab never blew its horn, never slowed down—and the license plate was covered over with mud. This all may be circumstantial evidence, but still . . .”

  Mattie was s
ilent, taking it all in. “And then,” Nancy said, continuing, “there’s the photograph of Rick, the one that was all scratched up. It wasn’t just a publicity shot, the kind he might autograph for a fan. There was a résumé of all the shows he’s been in stapled to the back of it. Correct me if I’m wrong, but actors don’t just give out their résumés to the general public, do they?”

  “No, of course not. But lots of people would have them.”

  “Like who? A producer?”

  “Sure. When an actor auditions for a job, he always brings a picture and résumé,” she said, sitting down. “Pappas would have them. So would the director, and Lillian, of course. His agent would have hundreds. I suppose even Dwayne might have a few left, unless he cleaned out his files recently.” Mattie stared at the wall with a faraway look. “But Dwayne is harmless. I’m sure—”

  “Wait. Why Dwayne? I thought Rick said he was with International Management.”

  “Yes, but when Rick was first in New York, Dwayne was his agent. The summer I first met both of them, we were in an acting company doing Shakespeare in Oregon. We were so sure of ourselves,” she mused. “Anyway, that fall, we set out for New York and the ‘big time.’ Rick and I did all right, but Dwayne, who was trying to make it as an actor still, ran into trouble getting parts. He was the wrong type somehow. So, he decided to open a talent agency instead. He really got our careers moving, too.”

  Just then Bess stepped into the room, a terry bathrobe wrapped around her. “I thought I heard somebody! Hi, Mattie,” she chirped. “Did Nancy tell you about our day? Kind of wild, huh?”

  “I read about part of it in the paper,” Mattie said. “It was—” The telephone rang, interrupting her.

  “That’s probably for me!” Bess said as she dove for the phone. “Oh, hi!” she purred into the receiver. “Yes, I thought you might— Really? Hmmm—” Suddenly Bess turned a deep crimson and let out a wild giggle. “Umm, just a minute,” she said. “I think I’ll take this in the other room.”

  Carefully putting the receiver on its side, Bess gestured wildly at Nancy and then the phone. “It’s Rick!” she whispered excitedly. “Hang up for me, okay?” With that, she ran into the bedroom.