Running Scared

by Carolyn Keene

  “What about?” Nancy asked.

  The trainer leaned closer, and his voice dropped to a whisper. “I can rely on your discretion? Nothing of this must get out to the media.”

  Nancy’s curiosity was aroused. “What’s this all about, Mr. Townsend?” she asked again.

  “Call me Derek,” the trainer insisted. “The fact is that Annette has received some very nasty anonymous notes, threatening harm unless she withdraws from the marathon. We didn’t take them seriously—until now. But in view of what just happened here, I’ve had a change of heart,” the trainer went on. “I think someone wants to kill Annette!”

  Chapter

  Three

  YOU HAVEN’T TOLD anyone else about these notes?” Nancy asked Derek Townsend.

  The trainer shook his head. “As I say, we didn’t take them seriously. Annette didn’t want her training interrupted, and she didn’t want security guards getting in her way. But this hit-and-run business . . . what should I do?”

  “I’d like to look at the notes,” Nancy said after thinking a moment. “Could I see them tonight? We’re staying at the Woodville.”

  “So are we,” Mr. Townsend told her, “like most of the top entrants. I’ll drop them by your room tonight.” Nancy gave him her room number, and with a wave the trainer rode away.

  Looking radiant, George walked over to Nancy. “You don’t mind, do you, Nan?” she asked. “About Kevin having dinner with us, I mean.”

  “Of course not,” Nancy replied, grinning at George. “I mean, it’s not every night we get to have dinner with a gorgeous sportscaster who’s totally interested in one of my best friends.”

  “You really think he is?” George asked, blushing. “I mean, he’s this famous athlete and TV guy, and I’m just— You really think so?”

  “From the way he looked at you, definitely,” Nancy assured George. “But listen, something else is going on, too. I may have a case to work on while we’re here.” She quickly told George of Derek Townsend’s concern for Annette.

  As George listened, her smile faded. “That’s awful!”

  “I’ll know more after I look at those notes later,” Nancy went on, picking up her bike. “But now we might as well check out a little more of this course.”

  • • •

  When Nancy and George finally returned to their room at the Woodville, Bess was studying herself in the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door.

  “What do you think?” she asked, spinning to show off the electric blue silk minidress she was wearing. Its price tag still hung from one sleeve.

  “It looks fantastic,” George said. “Don’t tell me you already have a date with that guy we met in the registration room?”

  Bess let out a sigh. “Not exactly. Jake has a really busy schedule until the marathon is over,” she explained. “We took a walk and talked awhile. Then he said he had to go, but maybe we’d see each other later. So I went shopping for a dress to celebrate in after the race. How was your ride? Did you check out the course?”

  “We biked well over half of it. It’s awesome,” George said excitedly. “There are going to be a few tough areas, but I think I have a good shot at a new personal best. I’m shooting for three hours and fifty minutes.” She peeled off her clothes and disappeared into the bathroom.

  While George took a shower, Nancy told Bess about the attempted hit-and-run in the park and the threatening notes Annette Lang was receiving. “Annette’s trainer is coming by with the notes tonight,” she finished.

  Bess flopped down on her bed. “Are you going to investigate it?”

  “Maybe,” Nancy replied. “We’ll see after I talk to Annette’s trainer. Oh, I almost forgot,” she added. She shot a meaningful look at George, who was emerging from the bathroom in a towel. “George has a date who’s having dinner with us.”

  Bess sat up straight. “A date? How could you almost forget something that important! Who is he, George? How did you meet? I want all the details!”

  Bess listened intently while George told her the story. “He sounds great,” Bess said when George was finished. “What are you going to wear?”

  “I don’t know,” George said. “What do you think? I wish I’d brought more dressy things.”

  Bess got up from the bed, went to the closet, and surveyed the clothes they had unpacked earlier.

  “How about that dress I brought?” Nancy suggested. She pointed to a cream-colored dress of soft, lightweight wool.

  “You’d look gorgeous in that,” Bess said, holding the dress up to George. “Kevin will love it!”

  • • •

  “There he is,” George whispered nervously as she, Nancy, and Bess entered the lobby at seven that evening. “Here goes.” She smoothed the creamy wool of her dress and started toward him.

  Kevin Davis was sitting in a chair in a waiting area just beyond the reception desk. He was wearing a navy blazer, striped shirt, and jeans.

  When he saw George, Kevin rose from his chair, his eyes sparkling with appreciation. “You look great, George!” he said.

  George responded with a smile that lit up her face. “You’ve already met Nancy, and—”

  “Actually I didn’t get Nancy’s name this afternoon,” Kevin said with a laugh. “She preferred to be called ‘Anonymous.’ ”

  Nancy laughed, too. “It’s good to see you again, Kevin. And this is Bess Marvin, George’s cousin.”

  “It’s my pleasure—” Bess broke off as someone spoke up behind her.

  “Hello, Bess.” Jake Haitinck stood there, wearing a leather jacket over a button-down white shirt and a pair of jeans.

  Nancy was about to suggest that Jake join them for dinner, but before she could, a petite young woman with lustrous black hair hurried over to him.

  “Jake! I must talk to you!” the young woman said, her dark eyes flashing angrily.

  Jake looked embarrassed. “Ah . . . yes, of course. Bess, meet Gina Giraldi. She’s a runner from Italy. Gina, this is Bess . . .”

  Gina shot Bess a furious glare and turned back to Jake. “Now,” she said, crossing her arms.

  With an apologetic look at Bess, Jake followed Gina to a separate grouping of chairs.

  There was an awkward silence. Then Kevin cleared his throat. “I don’t know about you ladies, but I’m starved. Let’s eat, shall we?”

  They made their way across the carpeted area to the hotel restaurant, called the Great Fire. It was decorated with old-fashioned furniture, gaslight fixtures, and velvet drapes. The menus explained that the historical prints on the walls showed Chicago as it had looked before the famous fire that had destroyed the city, in 1871.

  They ordered, and while they waited for their food, Nancy noticed Renee Clark. She was sitting with an older, dark-haired man and a woman in a smartly tailored suit.

  “Who’s with Renee Clark, do you know?” she asked Kevin. It occurred to her that Renee was someone who would benefit from Annette being forced out of the marathon.

  Kevin followed Nancy’s gaze. “The guy is her trainer, Charles Mellor,” he replied. “The woman is Irene Neff, a public relations rep for TruForm running shoes. Renee has an endorsement contract with TruForm, and Irene is probably trying to psych her up for the race. A win for Renee would be a major coup for the company.”

  “I didn’t realize running was such a big business,” said Bess.

  “Don’t kid yourself,” Kevin replied. “There’s a lot of money involved here—a twenty-thousand-dollar first prize, plus a car, for the winner. That’s just for starters. What with running being so popular, shoe companies hand out a lot for endorsements. Renee gets at least a hundred thousand a year from TruForm. Then there are commercial deals, or the chance of a career in TV sports announcing. Distance is big business, especially for the top few runners.”

  Nancy knew that Renee couldn’t have been driving the car that had nearly run down Annette Lang—she had been on the course herself. But perhaps Charles Mellor or Irene Nef
f had been behind the wheel. Nancy made a mental note to keep her eye on all three.

  Just then the waiter appeared with their orders—prime rib for Nancy and Kevin, grilled chicken breast for George, and roast duck for Bess—and Nancy forgot all about the threats to Annette.

  While they ate, Kevin kept the girls laughing with stories about his job. Nancy didn’t miss the looks he and George kept giving each other. There was no mistaking the signs: a romance was definitely brewing between the two.

  Nancy was just scooping up the last of her mashed potatoes when a familiar, grating voice spoke up next to her.

  “Well, well, if it isn’t Nancy Drew! Is the great detective snooping into something suspicious at the Heartland Marathon?”

  Standing there with a smirk on her face was Brenda Carlton. The petite, dark-haired girl was a reporter for Today’s Times, a River Heights tabloid, but sometimes Nancy thought Brenda’s greatest talent was for botching up Nancy’s cases. Already Brenda’s loud comment had caused several people to turn their way, including Renee Clark, Charles Mellor, and Irene Neff.

  “I’m just here to root for George,” Nancy said, keeping her tone light.

  “Really?” Brenda looked suspicious. “Even though they didn’t mention your name, I recognized you on TV, saving Annette Lang from getting run over. Your being here doesn’t have anything to do with that, huh?”

  Nancy shook her head. “Just a coincidence.”

  “Annette seems to think someone is out to get her,” Brenda persisted. “There may be a story there. Did you get; a good look at the car?”

  “It happened pretty fast, and all I saw was a battered car with no plates. I can’t be more specific than that. Sorry.”

  Brenda’s gaze landed on Kevin for the first time, and her eyes widened in surprise. “Kevin Davis! How do you know these three?”

  “We just met today,” Kevin explained. “And you are . . . ?”

  Brenda smiled smugly and said, “Brenda Carlton, with Today’s Times. No doubt you’ve heard of it. We have an impeccable reputation.”

  “For printing the trashiest stories around, that is,” Bess murmured under her breath, rolling her eyes at George and Nancy.

  Ignoring Bess’s comment, Brenda asked Kevin, “Did you get a good look at the mystery car?”

  “Sorry,” Kevin said apologetically. “I was watching Annette. Everything else was a blur.”

  An expression of annoyance flitted across Brenda’s face. “I see. Well, I’d better be going, but I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around.” She walked to a table across the restaurant.

  Kevin turned to Nancy, George, and Bess. “She seems a little full of herself,” he said. Lowering his voice, he said to Nancy, “Are you planning to do any detective work here?”

  Nancy hesitated before answering. “I don’t know yet. But if it turns out that I am, I hope you’ll keep it a secret between us. I work better when I can stay undercover. Which is why I didn’t want to be interviewed this afternoon.”

  “You can count on me,” Kevin assured her. “But your pal Brenda may have blown it for you. A lot of people heard her, and they’ll spread the word.”

  Bess looked up from her salad and grimaced. “All this talk about Brenda is ruining my appetite. We need an antidote. I hear they have a rooftop dance club here that’s pretty hot. Why not check it out after dinner?”

  “Not me,” George said. “Until the race I’m not staying up late.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Nancy told Bess. “I just want to stop at our room to see if Derek slipped those notes under the door.”

  Kevin turned to George. “It’s still pretty early. How about taking a walk?” he suggested.

  “Sure,” George replied.

  After the group paid the waiter, Kevin and George went out for their walk, and Nancy and Bess returned to their room, just across from the elevators on the fourth floor.

  As she opened the door to their room, Nancy glanced at the floor. “No notes,” she commented.

  “I like Kevin,” Bess said. “And I’m really happy for George.” She closed the door behind them.

  “Me, too,” Nancy agreed. “I bet she won’t even have to run Sunday’s race—she’ll be floating!”

  Bess laughed, then broke off suddenly at the sounds of angry voices just outside their door.

  “Are you threatening me?” a woman’s voice demanded.

  Nancy’s eyes widened in surprise. She was sure that that was the voice of Annette Lang! Exchanging a look of concern, Nancy and Bess tiptoed closer to the door.

  “I make no threats, I tell the truth,” a second woman replied harshly, in a heavy accent. “Once before you cost me a race, Annette, and I do not forget these things.”

  Bess clutched Nancy’s arm. “I recognize that accent! It’s Gina Giraldi,” Bess whispered. “She’s the one who grabbed Jake when he came over to talk to me in the lobby tonight. She’s got a temper that—”

  “Ssh!” Nancy whispered, holding up a hand as she put her ear to the door.

  “Stay away from me,” Annette was saying angrily. “I didn’t—”

  “I’ll get you,” Gina interrupted shrilly. “Some time, some place—when you do not expect it and there is no one to protect you—I will get my revenge.”

  Chapter

  Four

  THERE WAS SILENCE, and Bess turned to Nancy. “Do you think Gina had something to do with that car today?”

  “Could be,” Nancy said. “She’s definitely mad at Annette. We need to find out why.” She listened intently for a few more moments. “I don’t hear anything. I think they’re gone.”

  Nancy cautiously opened the door and looked outside. The corridor was empty.

  “Gina sounds like someone who could get violent, if you ask me,” Bess said as Nancy closed the door.

  “I wish I knew more about her,” Nancy said.

  Just then a quiet knock sounded on the door, and Nancy opened it. It was Derek Townsend, holding a manila folder. “Here are the notes,” he said, handing the folder to Nancy.

  Nancy walked over to the room’s desk and opened the folder, with Bess looking over her shoulder. There were three sheets of plain white paper, on which letters clipped from newspapers and magazines had been pasted. All the notes were threatening:

  This race will be hazardous to your health!

  You can run but you can’t hide!

  You’re an endangered species!

  Bess gasped as she read the notes. “Isn’t Annette scared?” she asked Derek. “If it were me, I’d break a speed record running for cover!”

  “Annette isn’t like that,” Townsend replied. “She doesn’t scare easily, even when it might be in her best interest.”

  “One thing about these,” said Nancy, her gaze still on the notes. “They were written by someone who’s familiar with American slang and usage. So they probably weren’t written by Gina Giraldi. Her command of English is good, but it sounds formal, stiff. Not like these notes.”

  The trainer stared at Nancy. “You suspect Gina? But why would she do something like this?”

  “She was having an argument with Annette out in the hall a few minutes ago. We heard it through the door,” Nancy told him. “Gina threatened to get even with Annette for something that happened between them. Do you have any idea what it is?”

  Townsend pressed his lips together. “There’s bad feeling between those two,” he admitted. “Gina thinks Annette plotted to have her disqualified from the New York Marathon last year—that’s one of the biggest on the circuit. And Annette has accused Gina of sabotaging a friend of hers in another race.”

  “Sabotage?” Nancy echoed. “How?”

  The trainer held up his hands in a helpless gesture. “You’ll have to ask Annette,” he said. “Personally, I think Gina might well be capable of sabotage—or worse. She can be really vicious if she has reason.”

  “What makes you say that?” Nancy asked.

  “I saw her attack a girl who she
thought was making a play for Jake. It took two men to pull her away. She has a streak of—”

  “Jake?” Bess interrupted. “Jake Haitinck? You mean, he’s her boyfriend?”

  “He was,” Derek Townsend replied. “Jake broke up with her months ago, but Gina hasn’t accepted it. As far as she’s concerned, he’s her property.”

  Bess sat down on a bed. “Wonderful,” she said faintly.

  “What’s wonderful?” George asked, coming into the room. Seeing Derek Townsend, she said, “Oh, hello.” Then she saw the notes on the desk, and her smile faded. “Were those sent to Annette?”

  Nancy nodded. “Derek, when and how did Annette get these notes?”

  “One of the notes was waiting for us when we checked in here two nights ago. It had been mailed from somewhere in Chicago the day before. Another was stuck into Annette’s purse yesterday. The third was slid under her door this morning.”

  “I need to talk to Annette,” said Nancy. “I know she wouldn’t go to the police and didn’t want guards, but she has to understand that the danger to her could be serious. In order to be any real help, I’ll need some more information from her. Will she cooperate with us?”

  Townsend sighed. “I’ll speak with her. I hope she’ll be reasonable, but she is headstrong. I’ll let you know.” He retrieved the folder, then left.

  As soon as the trainer was gone, George jumped up, excited to be able to tell her friends what had happened with Kevin. “Kevin and I walked to the lakefront—it’s really close. And we talked and talked . . . about running, and athletics in general. I mean, he was such a great athlete, but he’s really modest about it. And he was interested in me, what I like to do, my family, everything . . .”

  George’s voice trailed off, and she looked sheepishly at her friends. “Sorry, I guess I’m babbling.”

  “It’s a good thing, too,” Bess said, grinning at her cousin. “Otherwise, we would have had to pump you for all this information.”