“Is Marina copying her?” Nancy asked sourly.
“No.” Bess craned her neck, then turned to Nancy. “She’s talking to Ned.”
“Hmm. Talking, huh?” Nancy muttered. “How come she never seemed interested in talking to any of us? I can imagine what she’s saying: ‘I’m just a lonely ballerina. I have no friends here. It would be so nice if a handsome American boy would show me around. . . .”
Nancy trailed off, then realized Bess and George were staring at her.
“Hey, they’re just talking,” Bess said. “They’re not eloping or anything. Calm down.”
Nancy took a deep breath. “You’re right, I’m getting carried away. It’s just that Marina’s so beautiful! But I guess Ned’s old enough to make his own choices.” Forcing herself to relax, Nancy stretched out on the blanket and closed her eyes. “Just keep me posted, okay?”
George poked her. “Hey, I think you just made a choice yourself,” she said softly. “I think Ned is the guy you really love.”
“What are you talking about?” Nancy opened one eye and squinted at George.
“Well, when that girl was flirting with Sasha, you got a little jealous. But when Marina started doing the same thing to Ned, it bothered you more. And once you started worrying about Ned, it didn’t faze you that someone was all over Sasha. All you cared about was Ned.”
Nancy sat up. “You’re right,” she said slowly. “You know what? I think I’ve been reaching that conclusion myself over the past few days.”
She thought about the two boys. It was beginning to come clear to her.
Sasha had come into Nancy’s life in an exciting way, and his attention had been immensely flattering. He admired her. He was handsome, charming, and on his way to being famous, and yet he’d admired plain old Nancy Drew.
Sasha was very, very different from Nancy. That difference made him highly attractive, in a strange way.
But Ned was like a part of her. He knew her better than anyone else. They’d been together for a long time, and she trusted him. It hurt when they weren’t in tune with each other. Losing Ned would be like cutting her own heart in two.
No one else, she realized now, not even Sasha, had ever made her feel the same tingling excitement that she felt when Ned held her in his arms and kissed her.
“Hey, we’re out of soda.” Emily stood over the girls’ blanket, blocking the sun. “Nancy, would you mind going into town to get some more?”
“Huh? Oh, sure.” Nancy was glad for the errand. It would give her time to get her thoughts in order. Then she’d have to come up with a way to show Ned that she really did love him.
Bess and George went with Nancy to help her carry. The only parking place they found was in front of the hardware store.
Nancy glanced idly in the window and saw Roland Lyons at the counter. She remembered seeing him there the past Friday, before Emily disappeared. He’d been talking to Keith.
Something clicked in Nancy’s mind.
She stopped short, her mind racing. Lyons and Keith. Keith and Lyons. Pinkish dried mud on Keith’s shoes—red mud in front of Lyons’s house. Lyons had probably overheard Emily say in the diner that she was digging into his past. Later that same day Emily had vanished.
Gradually the pieces fell into place, and Nancy began to guess what really happened the night Emily disappeared.
Chapter
Fifteen
WHAT’S THE MATTER, NAN?” Bess asked.
“Where’s the nearest pay phone?” Nancy asked, barely hearing Bess’s question.
“There’s one in front of the grocery store,” George told her. “What’s going on?”
“I just had an idea. What if Emily was right about Roland Lyons?” Nancy said over her shoulder as she hurried to the phone.
“What about him?” George called, but Nancy was already dialing a long-distance number.
“River Heights Morning Record,” a voice on the other end of the line answered.
Her heart pounding with excitement, Nancy asked for Ann Granger. Ann was a reporter whom Nancy had once helped out of a tight spot. Since then, the two had remained in touch, and Ann often used her network of sources to help Nancy.
Unfortunately, Ann was out of the office on an assignment. She wasn’t expected back until late afternoon. Nancy left a message, asking Ann to call her at Eloise Drew’s house.
The girls went into the grocery store. “So what’s going on?” Bess asked again.
“Okay, here it is,” Nancy replied, keeping her voice low. “Remember last Friday, when we had lunch with Emily, she told us she was digging up dirt on Lyons? And remember that he was there?”
“Yes, but so what? She didn’t find out anything,” George pointed out.
“True, but Lyons didn’t hear that. Emily started whispering when she told us she hadn’t had any luck. Before that—before she noticed him—she was speaking in a normal voice.” She paused while the cashier rang up the six two-liter bottles of soda and put them in bags.
After the girls were back in the car, Nancy resumed, “Now, let’s suppose for a second that Lyons does have something to hide. Something that would jeopardize his condo deal if the board knew about it. What would he do?”
“Well, he didn’t kidnap Emily,” Bess said. “We know Keith did that. We’ve got proof.”
“Yes, but why couldn’t Keith have worked with Lyons?” Nancy asked. “He wanted revenge for being dumped. Lyons wanted to keep his million-dollar deal safe.” Nancy’s excitement grew as she saw how neatly it all fitted together. “Keith and Emily had a public fight—maybe Lyons heard about it and saw an opportunity to use Keith to do his dirty work. All Keith had to do was get Emily out of the way until the contract was signed. Maybe Lyons promised Keith a share in the condo deal,” Nancy added, thinking about how Keith had quit his job. “And Keith would also have the pleasure of helping to ruin Emily’s favorite beach.”
“Wow!” Bess exclaimed. “Do you really think that could have happened?”
“How are you going to prove it?” George asked. “You don’t have any evidence linking Lyons to the crime.”
“I do have evidence that links Keith and Lyons—the mud on Keith’s shoes comes from right outside Lyons’s house—but that’s not proof of the crime. I’m working on it. I’m going to ask Ann Granger to find out about Lyons’s business in California,” Nancy said. She frowned thoughtfully. “But you’re right, I do need proof before I can go to the police.”
“You could call Roland Lyons’s old partner,” Bess suggested. “Maybe he knows something.”
Nancy shook her head. “Even if he does, he wouldn’t talk to Emily. I doubt he’d feel any different about talking to me. Maybe he has something to hide, too. Also, I’d hate to risk the old partner tipping off Lyons about what I’m doing. No, I’ll have to wait and talk to Ann this afternoon.” They arrived at the beach and delivered the soda to Emily, and then Bess and George ran over to the volleyball game that was now in progress.
Nancy had decided not to tell Emily anything until she had more information. The girl was too personally involved—she might not be able to keep quiet about Nancy’s theory.
“Welcome back,” Emily said. “I think you’d better check up on Ned. Marina’s after him.”
Nancy looked around for Ned. She finally spotted him some distance down the beach. Her eyes opened wide in astonishment.
Ned was buried in sand up to his chest. Marina and Sasha were heaping more on him, laughing as they worked. The blond girl had vanished. But the three of them—Ned, Sasha, and Marina—seemed to be having the best time in the world.
Nancy put her hands on her hips. “Something very weird is going on,” she told Emily. Ned flirting with Marina was one thing, but Ned and Sasha acting like long-lost brothers was something else. And neither of them had paid any attention to her all day. What were they up to?
“I think they’re ganging up on you,” Emily said with a shrewd glance at Nancy.
C
ould Emily be right? Nancy wondered, shocked. Were Ned and Sasha teaming up to tell her they were tired of waiting for her to make up her mind? It made sense, in a way.
At that moment Ned caught sight of her. He broke one hand free from his sandy grave and waved at her. Marina stuffed his hand back in the sand. Then she brushed his hair back from his forehead, her hand lingering to caress his face.
Nancy gasped and turned away. Whatever else was going on, Emily was definitely right about Marina. “I can’t believe this,” she said. “How am I going to get him away from her?”
Emily shrugged. “Don’t try,” she advised. “Ned is just giving you a taste of your own medicine. Grit your teeth and ignore it.”
So, for the rest of the picnic, Nancy had to seethe in silence. If Ned wanted to play games, she could certainly play along with him. But it was hard to watch him with Marina, just the same.
She took some of her edginess out in a hardhitting game of volleyball and a long swim with George. But Nancy was glad when the party finally broke up at about four-thirty.
Ned came up as she was stuffing her things into her beach bag. “Mind if I borrow the car to give Sasha and Marina a ride home?” he asked.
Nancy was miffed that he was keeping the game up, but she couldn’t say no to him. Their house was close, so she didn’t need the car to get home. “No problem,” she answered.
“Great. I’ll see you in a while, okay?”
“Fine,” Nancy said, forcing a careless smile. “Don’t get lost.”
“I won’t.” He laughed and went to the car.
“This thing with Ned is really rattling you, isn’t it?” George asked as they walked home.
“It is,” Nancy admitted. “But worrying about it isn’t doing me any good. So I’m just going to concentrate on the case, and let my love life take care of itself.”
When they got home, the phone was ringing. Nancy ran over and picked it up. “Hello?”
“Hi, Nancy, it’s Ann Granger,” a voice said. “I just got your message. What’s up?”
“Ann! Fantastic timing,” Nancy exclaimed. “I need your investigative-reporter skills.” She quickly outlined the case to the reporter, and explained that she was looking for any scandals in Lyons’s past. “I think his old business was in San Diego,” she concluded. “Can you see what you can find out through the San Diego newspapers?”
“I’ll get on it right away and call you back within an hour,” Ann promised.
“Terrific.” Nancy thanked Ann and hung up. She turned to her friends. “Now we wait.”
For the next hour Nancy waited for Ann’s call and tried to ignore the fact that Ned wasn’t back yet. Finally the phone rang again.
“I don’t know if any of this is relevant,” came Ann’s voice, “but I could find only two things that seemed even vaguely helpful.”
“Shoot.” Nancy reached for paper and pencil.
“Okay. Roland Lyons and his partner, Craig Berry, owned a construction company in San Diego. It was investigated when two buildings that Lyons and Berry had built collapsed in a minor earthquake. One of the subcontractors was convicted of fraud. Apparently he ignored some safety codes and pocketed the money he should have spent on extra materials. But Lyons and Berry’s firm itself was never connected with the fraud.”
“Hmm.” Nancy didn’t think that would have swayed the community board. “What’s the second thing?” The front door opened and Ned came in.
The reporter continued, “It’s connected. Bill Walters, a reporter who covered the investigation, wrote an editorial—Hey, wait a minute, that’s pretty unusual. Reporters don’t usually write editorials about their own stories. Well, anyway, this Walters implied that there was more to the case than was made public. He hinted that there was a cover-up, that Lyons paid someone off in city administration.”
“That sounds promising,” Nancy said excitedly. “Ann, you’re terrific. Thanks!”
“Anytime.” Ann chuckled and hung up.
Next Nancy tried the San Diego paper that Bill Walters had written for. No one seemed to know who he was. Finally Nancy dialed information and got the reporter’s home number. He wasn’t in, but she left a message on his answering machine.
“What’s going on?” Ned asked. “New lead?”
Nancy brought Ned up-to-date. Then she told them all what Ann had found out. “If this Bill Walters can give us definite information, we’re in business,” she said, pacing the living room as she thought aloud. “The community board would have refused Lyons the contract if they’d known he had been investigated for fraud. If he thought Emily was on his case, he’d want to keep her quiet until after the contract was signed.”
“Assuming you’re right about Lyons planning the crime, it seems awfully convenient that the only person who could incriminate him isn’t in any shape to answer questions,” Ned said slowly.
“You mean Keith?” Nancy looked at Ned in dawning horror. “Ned, what are you saying?”
“Didn’t you say Keith ran out of brake fluid?” Ned asked. “That practically never happens, not if you take care of your car.”
“And Keith loved his car,” Nancy whispered. “I did think it was strange that he would have let that happen. Ned, could you empty a car of brake fluid and make it look accidental?”
Ned shrugged. “Sure. All you’d have to do is unscrew the drain valve. It’s right by the wheel—it wouldn’t be hard.”
“Let’s go to the garage and have a look.” Nancy was already at the front door.
All four of them raced to the repair shop. Hurrying past the startled mechanic, they ran to the car. Ned crawled under the body and checked out the valve.
When he slid back out, his face was grim. “It’s wide open,” he reported.
Nancy felt a flutter of horror. It looked as if she’d have to add attempted murder to the list of Lyons’s crimes!
Chapter
Sixteen
NANCY TOOK A DEEP BREATH. “It’s time to call the police,” she said. “If you’re right, Ned, we’re dealing with attempted murder.”
Bess nodded emphatically. “If you don’t call them, I will,” she said. She was pale.
As they drove home, Nancy had a sudden thought. “Ned, did you touch anything under there?” she asked anxiously. If there were any fingerprints on the valve, he might have messed them up.
Ned shook his head. “No, I was careful. I’d hate for the police to find my prints there.”
That possibility hadn’t even occurred to Nancy. “You’d make a good criminal,” she told Ned, smiling.
“It comes from hanging around with you,” he said, teasing her back.
Nancy’s heart lifted at his affectionate tone. Maybe the deep-freeze treatment was over!
Eloise Drew was home when they got back. George, Bess, and Ned brought her up-to-date while Nancy dialed the police in Montauk.
She told the desk sergeant about the open brake valve on Keith’s car, and her suspicions regarding his involvement in Emily’s kidnapping.
“These are very serious charges you’re making, young lady. Do you have any proof for your allegations?” the sergeant demanded.
“Please, just look at that valve,” Nancy begged. “Surely it’ll prove someone tried to kill Keith.”
“Valves can work loose by themselves,” the sergeant told her. “But I’ll send someone over to dust for prints in the morning. I don’t have anyone available right now.”
Well, the car wouldn’t go anywhere overnight, Nancy reflected. She looked at her watch. It was almost seven o’clock. Morning was good enough.
She joined everyone else in the kitchen. Her aunt Eloise had made a big bowl of popcorn and some lemonade, and they were all eating popcorn instead of dinner.
“Do you really think Roland Lyons is coldblooded enough to have tried to kill Keith, just to make sure he didn’t talk?” Eloise asked.
“A multimillion-dollar deal is pretty high stakes,” George said darkly.
Nancy had thought of something else. “Let’s say Lyons offered Keith money to kidnap Emily, but after he’d done it, Keith asked for more—like a percentage of the condo deal, maybe,” she suggested. “I bet that’s probably what happened. Keith called to quit his job Monday morning, presumably after he’d set Emily adrift. I’ll bet that if we checked with the phone company, we’d find out that that call was made from Lyons’s house. Keith went there and threatened Lyons, so Lyons decided to get rid of him. He probably unscrewed the valve while Keith was calling Mr. Engel.”
Bess shivered. “That’s pretty cold-blooded, if you ask me.”
“Nancy, how are you going to prove any of this?” her aunt asked. “Your theory sounds reasonable, but it’s all guesswork at this point.”
“I know. I’m working on it,” Nancy replied.
“Not that this isn’t interesting, but I’m wiped out,” Ned spoke up. He rose from the table with an enormous yawn. “I know it’s ridiculously early, but I’ve got to go to sleep. Good night, everyone.”
“Good night,” Bess, George, and Eloise chorused.
Nancy tried to join in, but the words stuck in her throat. She was disappointed and hurt. All day she had been waiting to speak to Ned alone, and now that things had finally calmed down and a quiet conversation might have been possible, he was going to bed—without even giving her a good-night kiss!
Oh, grow up, Drew, she scolded herself. She was acting like a spoiled little girl. After all, she had really put Ned in a tough position. She couldn’t expect him to forget his own hurt so easily.
No, if she wanted to patch up their relationship, she was going to have to meet Ned halfway—or more than halfway. She’d have to make the first move. It was scary, but now she knew what she wanted, and what she had to do to get it.
• • •
The next morning, while her friends went to the beach, Nancy made two calls. First she updated Emily on what she’d found out so far. Then, at eleven, she called Bill Walters again. It would be eight o’clock in San Diego. She didn’t want to wake him, but she wanted to make sure she caught him before he went to work.
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