“Yeah, well somebody finally pushed him off,” Bess said. “And no wonder. He must have had things on half the kids in school.”
“But he only has three people on tape,” George pointed out. “Nancy, do you really think one of them killed him?”
Nancy shrugged her shoulders in frustration.
Later, after George and Bess had left, she took a long hot shower, trying to come up with an answer to George’s question.
Walt Hogan was strong enough to give Jake that final push, she thought, especially if he’d been angry. And Hal wasn’t exactly a lightweight. If he’d been desperate enough, he might just have decided to challenge Jake.
She couldn’t rule out Connie either. Sweet, gossipy Connie Watson was as strong a candidate for murderer as the two guys. Anyone could have pushed him.
Nancy turned around and let the warm, misty spray roll off her back. Jake Webb wasn’t just a thief and a vandal, she thought, he was the Bedford High Blackmailer. Getting power from kids who’d made mistakes must have given him a kick, a sick, sadistic kick.
But somebody had finally kicked him back. The question was, who? Was it really one of the kids on the tape—Walt or Connie or Hal? Could one of those three Bedford High students have been so determined to get out from under Jake’s thumb that he or she murdered him to keep a secret safe?
Chapter
Ten
NANCY PUSHED HER sloppy joe aside and reached for Daryl’s hand across the cafeteria table. “I need a favor.”
“Just ask,” Daryl said with a smile. “What? You need a ride home after school?”
“Not exactly,” Nancy answered, looking mysterious. “I lucked out. This morning my dad surprised me with a new Mustang GT Convertible.”
Daryl rolled his eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“The deal is I’ll pay him back when the insurance money comes through.” Nancy grinned sheepishly. “Plus twenty years allowance, I’ve been told.”
“Poor baby,” Daryl teased her, leaning close enough to brush his lips against her ear. “So what’s the favor? You want me to test-drive your new toy?”
Nancy didn’t tease back. “No,” she said, forcing herself to pull back from Daryl’s handsome face. “I want to tell you something, but you have to promise not to breathe a word of it to anyone.”
“I can keep a secret, Detective. Promise.”
They were alone at a table in the farthest corner of the cafeteria. Any of the kids who happened to glance their way probably thought they were having a private lovers’ talk. But love was the farthest thing from Nancy’s mind at that moment as she quietly told Daryl about Jake Webb’s blackmail videotape.
When she finished, she sat back and sipped her iced tea, waiting for Daryl’s reaction.
But Daryl must have been so stunned he couldn’t think of anything to say. He just stared at her with wide, dark-blue eyes, his face almost blank.
“It’s okay to be shocked,” Nancy said. “I was, and I’m the detective.”
“Yeah, I . . .” Daryl shook his head and whistled softly. “Wow. I am shocked. I mean, it’s unbelievable.”
“It is—unless you’ve seen the tape.”
“So what are you going to do with it?” Daryl asked. “Turn it over to the police?”
Nancy shook her head. “I guess I’ll have to give it to them pretty soon. But since Mr. Parton is letting me handle this my way, I’d like to work on my own just a little longer. For now, that tape’s going to stay safe at home, where I can keep an eye on it.”
Daryl nodded. “I guess you think one of those kids killed Jake, huh?”
“I don’t know what I think yet,” Nancy admitted. “I don’t want to believe it at all.”
“But they’re the only ones on the tape, isn’t that what you said?” Daryl asked quickly.
“Yes, but somehow I just . . .” Nancy sighed.
“Jake really blew it for everybody, didn’t he?” Daryl looked sympathetic and concerned, just the way Ned would have reacted, Nancy thought. Then Daryl leaned across the table and gave her one of his sexiest looks. “Don’t take this wrong, Detective, but be careful, okay?”
• • •
Warmed by Daryl’s concern and support, not to mention his touch, Nancy spent the rest of the afternoon—in between classes—tracking down the three “stars” of Jake’s videotape.
She found Hal in the library, just beginning a paper that she happened to know was due in two days. “Hi,” she whispered as she joined him at the study table. “I thought you’d be finished with that by now. Everybody says you’re a real whiz.”
Hal gave her a nervous smile and shrugged. “Even whizzes get behind sometimes.”
“Well, I guess you don’t have to worry, though,” Nancy went on. “I mean, if you’re smart enough to get into Harvard and write papers for Jake Webb on the side, then—”
That got Hal’s attention. “What do you mean?” he interrupted in a whisper. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Really?” Nancy was all innocence. “Gee, I was sure I heard you and Jake talking about it in the hall, right after that pop quiz, remember?”
“No. You didn’t. I mean, you must have heard wrong.” Hal stood up, gathering his stuff together with shaky hands. “Look, I’ve got to get going.”
“Oh, too bad,” Nancy said. “I was going to ask your advice. See, I’ll be taking the SATs soon and I thought maybe you could give me some hints on how to handle them. Everybody says your scores were sky-high. How did you do it? Or is that a secret?”
Hal looked so nervous, Nancy thought he might break down right there in the library. But he managed to hold himself together long enough to mumble something about “luck.” Then he rushed out of the room, but not before shooting Nancy a look of pure terror.
Nancy wasn’t sure what to make of it. Was Hal scared because of the SATs he’d stolen, or had he done something much worse than stealing and cheating? She decided to try again with him, but first she wanted to talk to the other two.
Walt Hogan wasn’t hard to find. He stood out like a redwood in a grove of saplings, and she spotted him right before fifth period, heading out one of the side doors. Good, she said to herself. You were looking for an excuse to cut calculus anyway.
Nancy followed Walt across the campus toward the track, where she watched him run two laps before he stopped, throwing himself down on the grass. He was gasping as if he’d just run a three-minute mile, and she figured he must still be in pain.
“Tired?” Nancy asked pleasantly as she dropped into the grass beside him.
“Yeah.” Walt grunted a couple of times and then opened his eyes. “Do I know you?”
“Well, we met,” Nancy said. “Monday, remember? We sort of bumped into each other in the hall and Daryl Gray introduced us. I’m Nancy Drew.”
“Yeah, sure.” Walt didn’t look sure at all. “How’s it going?”
“Fine.” Nancy plucked some grass and twisted it around her finger. “I watched you at practice the other day,” she said. “You really amaze me. I mean, I fell off the trampoline and I could barely walk, so I know what you’re going through.”
“What do you mean, what I’m going through?” Walt asked.
“The pain,” Nancy said. “Jake Webb told me all about—”
“Webb?” Walt broke in. “What kind of business did you have with that scum?”
“No business,” Nancy said quickly. “He just explained about your injury and I wanted you to know that I understand.”
“Look!” Walt jumped to his feet and stood towering over her. “I don’t know what that slime told you, but whatever it was, he was lying!”
Nancy got to her feet and faced him. “Hey, okay,” she said. “Don’t get excited. I just thought—”
“Don’t think!” Walt shouted. He took a step toward Nancy, and for a second she thought he was going to hit her. “Just get out of my sight! There’s no pain because there’s no injury, you unde
rstand?”
With an angry glare, Walt turned and slowly walked toward the school. Nancy let her breath out. She’d taken a few judo classes, but not nearly enough to prepare her to face a raging, 200-pound football player.
Walt was touchy, to put it mildly, but Nancy still didn’t have anything more than suspicions to go on. No more hinting, she told herself. With Connie, just come right out and say what’s on your mind. As horrible as the truth is, you have to confront her with it. At least you won’t have to worry about being attacked. You hope.
Chapter
Eleven
NANCY FOUND CONNIE Watson in the gym after school, watching cheerleader practice. She climbed the bleachers to her side.
“I have to talk to you,” she said quietly. “About Jake Webb. And your bracelet. And a videotape I found.”
Connie’s round face flushed and then drained of color until it resembled a full moon. “I . . . I don’t . . .” she stammered.
“Look,” Nancy went on, ignoring the girl’s panicked eyes, “the police found your bracelet in Jake’s locker. And I know it’s yours because I saw the videotape—the one Jake made of you stealing it. I haven’t shown it to the police yet. But I will unless you tell me everything you know about how Jake was murdered.”
Tears ran down Connie’s cheeks, making them glisten under the bright gym lights. “It all started at the beginning of the school year. See, that bracelet wasn’t the only thing I stole,” she admitted. “I took a sweater the first time, and it was so easy I decided to try for a jacket.” Connie swallowed hard. “Only that time I got caught. It’s all in my school file.”
“And since Jake worked in the office, he found out about it,” Nancy commented.
Connie nodded and took a shaky breath. “I didn’t know he knew, of course. But then, after I took the bracelet . . . Well, I know it was wrong but I wanted it so much, and there was no way I could afford it! I promised myself it was the last time. But then . . .”
She wiped her face and sniffed loudly. “ . . . Then Jake came strutting along, said he had a ‘movie’ he wanted me to see. I nearly died when I saw it! I told him I was going to return the bracelet, but that slug made me wear it. When I tried to get rid of it, he stopped me and kept it himself. He said he knew all about my shoplifting record and that if he told anyone about the bracelet, I’d probably go to jail. And he was right!
“So after that, I had to do everything he asked.” Connie shuddered. “Everything. I hoped that when he died, my secret would die with him.”
Nancy felt terrible, but she had to keep pushing or she’d never get to the bottom of the mystery. “But Jake didn’t just die,” she said. “Someone killed him.”
“I know, I know,” Connie moaned. Then she looked at Nancy sharply. “I didn’t do it! I’m not sorry he’s dead, but I didn’t kill him—and I can’t believe you think I might have!”
With a sob, Connie ran down the bleacher steps and out of the gym. Nancy felt helpless. She wished she could have told Connie everything would be okay. But Connie had as much reason to knock off Jake as anyone else he’d blackmailed. Until Nancy found out who did it, she couldn’t afford to feel sorry for anybody, not even sweet Connie Watson.
• • •
Still thinking about the answers she didn’t have, Nancy left the gym and walked outside to her car. Daryl Gray was leaning against the driver’s door, and Nancy’s stomach did a little flip at the sight of him.
“I can tell by the look on your face that your ‘interviews’ didn’t go too well,” he said when she reached his side.
“You’re right,” Nancy admitted. “I’m not much further along than I was last night. But I’ll figure it out eventually.” She looked at him with a mock frown. “What are you doing here, anyway? I didn’t think you’d ever come within fifty feet of a car of mine.”
“When you want to be with somebody enough, you have to take chances.” Daryl put a hand on Nancy’s shoulder and brought his lips close to her ear. “Besides,” he whispered, “I have an ulterior motive.” He pulled open the door for her. “What I really want, aside from spending some time with you, is to see that tape.”
“You mean ‘The Secrets of Bedford High?’ ”
“Yeah. It sounds wild.” Daryl shut the door after her and leaned down, his head in the window. “No, really, I thought maybe I could help. I know all those people better than you do. Maybe I can find some clues.”
“It sounds good to me,” Nancy said. “Let’s go.”
“You lead, I’ll follow,” Daryl said, and walked off toward his Porsche.
Half an hour later, the two of them were in Nancy’s house, sitting close together on the beige couch in the den, sipping Cokes and looking at the Jake Webb production.
Daryl watched carefully but didn’t say much, and Nancy was acutely aware of his closeness in the darkened room. As Connie Watson faded into the crowds of shoppers, Daryl brought his arm up and around Nancy’s shoulder, his hand resting lightly on the back of her neck.
By the time Connie was walking up the school steps, neither Daryl nor Nancy was watching. Their eyes were on each other.
“I hate to tell you this,” Daryl said softly, “but I didn’t see anything that might help you out.”
“That’s okay,” Nancy whispered. “I’m glad you came over anyway.”
As if they’d both thought of it at the same time, they moved their heads closer together until their lips were touching. Nancy slid her hands up Daryl’s arms, felt his thick blond hair under her fingers, felt his lips press against hers. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears, and then suddenly she heard another sound—the doorbell.
Reluctant, but almost relieved, Nancy disentangled herself from Daryl’s arms and stood up. “Bad timing, huh?”
“The worst,” Daryl groaned ruefully.
The doorbell chimed again and Nancy went down the hall to answer it.
“Nan, hi!” Bess’s smile changed to a gape as she stared at Nancy. “Were you taking a nap or something?”
“No, why?”
“You look a little . . . wrinkled,” George pointed out.
“No, I was just—” Nancy stopped when she realized that her friends were staring at something behind her. Turning, she saw Daryl walking down the hall toward them, smoothing his hair with one hand and straightening his shirt with the other.
After a quick introduction Daryl turned to Nancy. “I think I’d better get going,” he said with a warm smile. “See you tomorrow, okay?”
Bess could hardly wait until he was out the door. “Wow,” she said breathily. “No wonder you look so glassy-eyed, Nancy. He’s gorgeous!”
“For once I can’t argue,” George said.
“If I hadn’t just met somebody else,” Bess went on, “—and by the way, his name’s Alan Wales, Nancy, wait’ll you see him—I’d definitely fall in love with Daryl Gray. What were you two up to, anyway?”
Nancy was saved from explaining by another bell—the telephone. “Nancy,” Hannah called from the kitchen. “It’s for you. It’s Ned.”
“Thanks, Hannah,” Nancy called back. “I’ll take it in my bedroom.” With a flustered smile, she turned to Bess and George. “I’ll meet you in the den in a couple of minutes. Oh, turn off the tape machine, would you? I forgot.”
“I can’t imagine why,” Bess teased.
Alone in her room Nancy tried to compose herself before she picked up the extension. Would Ned hear anything in her voice that would reveal what she’d just done? She hoped not. After all, Daryl was exciting, but Ned Nickerson was the one she loved. Wasn’t he?
“Ned?”
“Hey, Nancy. How’re you doing? I miss you.”
She could hear the smile in his voice. “I miss you, too,” she told him. “How’s life at the university?”
“Busy. I’ve got good news, but first, tell me how the case is going.”
“Well, I’ll put it this way—it’s still going.” Nancy didn’t really want to get
into it. She might have to mention Daryl and she wasn’t ready for that. “What’s your good news?”
“I’m coming down this weekend.”
“To River Heights?”
“Where else? That’s where you are, isn’t it?” Ned laughed. “What’s the matter, don’t you want to see me?”
“Are you kidding? Of course I do!” Nancy could say that truthfully, but still, she wondered what the weekend would be like. After all, she had a date with Daryl for the dance. What would Ned think about that? “When will you get here?” she asked.
“Tomorrow, early afternoon sometime. I’ll call you as soon as I get there. Nancy?” Ned lowered his voice. “I can’t wait to see you. Let’s do something special.”
“You’re on,” Nancy said with a grin, although she couldn’t imagine what they’d do, not if she was busy with Daryl.
After she hung up, she tried to figure out whether to tell Ned everything about the case, including her two “close encounters” with Daryl, or to keep those incidents a secret and just pass Daryl off as one of her contacts in the case.
She was staring at the phone and chewing on a fingernail when George stuck her head around the door. “Nancy? Could you come in the den? There’s something you should see.”
Glad to be distracted, Nancy followed George down the hall and into the den. “Bess was just about to turn the VCR off when something came on,” George explained. “I guess Jake had one more scene and he put it at the very end of the tape.”
“Who is it?” Nancy asked. “What other poor slob did Jake have in the wringer?”
“Oh, Nancy, it’s not just another poor slob,” Bess said. “Look.”
George pushed the play button and a face appeared on the television screen. Nancy didn’t say a word. She couldn’t. The face belonged to Daryl Gray!
Secrets Can Kill Page 6