Running Scared

by Carolyn Keene

  “This has to be just between you and me for now, all right? It’s about George.”

  Bess’s blue eyes widened. “A problem with George?”

  “Not with George exactly. It’s about Kevin.” Quickly Nancy told Bess of her suspicions about Kevin. While she spoke, Bess twisted a strand of her long blond hair between her fingers.

  “I see what you mean,” she said slowly. “That is a problem.”

  Feeling relieved that Bess was there to share her worries with, Nancy asked, “So what do you think we should do? I mean, don’t you think George should know that Kevin is one of the suspects?”

  “Definitely,” Bess agreed. “The main thing to remember is that George is our friend. I’m sure she’ll understand why you’re suspicious of Kevin.”

  “I hope so,” Nancy said, giving Bess a grateful smile. But deep down she wasn’t so sure.

  • • •

  “I can’t believe George actually got up at six o’clock to go work out with Kevin,” Bess said the following morning as she and Nancy were finishing breakfast in the hotel’s coffee shop. “You couldn’t pay me to do that.”

  Nancy laughed and flipped over the check the waitress had left on their table. “It’s eight-forty now,” she said. “George’s note said to meet her at the gym at nine. We’d better go.”

  Glancing toward the glass wall that separated the coffee shop from the hotel lobby, Nancy saw Renee Clark coming in from the street with Charles Mellor and Irene Neff. Irene had a grip on Renee’s forearm and was talking very intently to her.

  Quickly Nancy got up and left the money for their breakfast on the table. “Come on, Bess. You can pay me back later. There’s Renee Clark and her entourage, and I want to talk to them. Follow my lead, okay? We’re big fans of hers.”

  Bess grinned at Nancy. “Whatever you say.” She followed as Nancy left the café and approached the trio.

  “This is the biggest opportunity of your career,” Irene Neff was saying in a low, gravelly voice that seemed to contradict her elegant suit and sleek blond hairdo. “We’re a team. Charles and I will do all we can, but you—”

  “You’re Renee Clark, aren’t you,” Nancy asked in a breathless, gushy voice. “My friend and I think you’re terrific! We hope you win on Sunday, and we’ll be cheering for you.”

  Renee gave them a delighted smile, as though she still found it fun to talk to fans. “Thanks!”

  Ignoring Irene Neff’s annoyed look, Nancy asked, “How do you feel? You think you can get a personal best?”

  “It’s possible,” Renee answered, “if the weather is right, and I get a fast start.” She put down the nylon gym bag she held in one hand and gestured to her companions. “This is Charles Mellor, my trainer,” she introduced, “and Irene Neff, who works for TruForm Shoes.”

  When Nancy and Bess introduced themselves, Charles Mellor gave them a polite nod and a murmur of greeting. He looked very fit, with a dark tan and dark hair.

  Irene Neff ignored the girls completely. Placing a hand on Renee’s shoulder, Ms. Neff said, “Remember what I told you.” She turned on her heel and walked away.

  Renee followed the older woman with her eyes for a moment before turning to Nancy and Bess. “Irene’s not usually like that,” she said apologetically. “She just has a lot on her mind.

  “Hey!” she added, staring at Nancy more intently. “You’re the one who saved Annette yesterday! I saw the whole thing.”

  “I was just in the right place at the right time,” Nancy said, trying to play down the incident.

  “Did I understand that you’re a detective?” asked Charles Mellor, regarding Nancy with interest. “I couldn’t help hearing that woman in the restaurant last night. . . .”

  Thanks a lot, Brenda, Nancy thought. Aloud, she simply said, “That’s right, I am.”

  “Sounds fascinating,” Mellor commented. “Would it be asking too much to know what you’re investigating right now?”

  “Nothing, at the moment,” Nancy told him. “We came here to see the marathon.”

  “Right,” chimed in Bess. “And root for—”

  “For you,” Nancy said quickly, flashing Renee a big smile.

  “Well, I hope I can win it,” Renee said. “I have to get going now, but it was nice talking to you. Charles, see you at the gym after my workout.”

  “Right,” said Renee’s trainer. After nodding to Nancy and Bess, he turned and ran to catch an elevator whose doors were just closing. Renee walked toward the doors leading to the outside.

  “Brenda sure messed things up last night,” Bess said to Nancy. “Who knows how many people know you’re a detective now?”

  “That’s not going to make my job any easier,” Nancy agreed. “Come on. I need to make a quick trip to the ladies’ room, then let’s go meet George. We’re late.”

  A few minutes later the girls left the hotel. It was a crisp, clear day, and Nancy paused on the sidewalk to draw in a deep breath of spring-scented air.

  “Have you decided what to say to George?” Bess asked.

  “Not yet,” Nancy admitted. “I have to talk to her today, though.”

  Bess nodded. “Good idea. She should know about Kevin before she gets too—”

  Wham!

  Nancy jumped back abruptly as a large object came hurtling by them from somewhere above and smashed into the sidewalk!

  Chapter

  Seven

  INSTINCTIVELY, Nancy covered her face with her hands. Dirt and sharp fragments were flying everywhere.

  After a few seconds the air was calm again, and Nancy dared to look up. “Bess! Are you okay?”

  Bess nodded, her eyes wide with fright. Dirt and leaves speckled her jeans. “What happened?” she asked, looking at the object that had caused the crash.

  A few feet in front of where they stood, the shattered fragments of a large ceramic planter lay scattered on the pavement, along with a plant and a pile of earth.

  It had to have come from the hotel, Nancy realized. Whirling around, she stared up at the windows. Her heartbeat quickened as she caught a glimpse of a head ducking inside. Quickly she counted the floors.

  “Someone was looking out from the ninth floor,” she told Bess, and dragged her back toward the hotel entrance. “Come on!”

  A small crowd of people was hurrying over to them. “We’re fine,” Nancy said, pushing past everyone. She and Bess raced inside and went to the elevators. It seemed to take forever until one finally arrived and they were able to jump in.

  By the time they reached the ninth floor, all the other passengers had gotten off. The doors slid open, and Nancy found herself standing face-to-face with Gina Giraldi! Gina gave them a cool glance and stepped inside as Nancy and Bess got out. The doors closed before they could speak to her.

  Without pausing, Nancy started down the hallway to the right. “I’m pretty sure the room would have to be in this direction,” she told Bess.

  When they got to Room 926, Nancy paused. The door was ajar. Ready for anything, she pushed it wide open and went in.

  A quick glance told her the person had gone. There were stacks of papers and manila folders on the room’s low coffee table. The window was wide open, and when Nancy went to look down, she saw the remains of the planter were directly below.

  “Gina was on this floor just now,” Bess said, joining Nancy at the window. “She could have pushed that planter out.” Her voice trembled as she added, “You don’t think she did this because I talked with Jake last night, do you?”

  “Maybe,” Nancy said grimly. “Or maybe she doesn’t want me looking into the attacks on Annette.”

  She turned around and leaned against the windowsill to think. “Maybe it wasn’t Gina at all. Let’s take a quick look around up here, then go down to the reception desk and find out which rooms our suspects are staying in. I’ll bet one of them is in here.”

  After leaving Room 926, the two girls looked up and down the hallway but saw no one. Then they took the elevator
back to the lobby and went to the front desk. When Nancy said that she was running the marathon and asked for the room numbers of her dear friends Gina Giraldi, Irene Neff, Charles Mellor, and Renee Clark, the young woman cheerfully supplied them.

  “Bingo!” Nancy exclaimed after thanking the woman and walking away. “Nine twenty-six is Irene Neff’s room! And she left us when we were in the lobby talking to Renee.”

  “But Gina’s also on the ninth floor, in nine-fifteen,” Bess put in excitedly. “I bet she got into Irene’s room and tried to bean us with that planter. She’s got the temper for it. And she was right there.”

  “That’s true,” Nancy said thoughtfully, “though it seems unlikely that she’d take the risk of sneaking into Irene’s room. On the other hand, Charles Mellor and Renee Clark are even less likely candidates, since their rooms aren’t on the ninth floor.”

  Bess’s expression brightened. “There’s one person who definitely couldn’t have done it,” she said. “Kevin. He’s with George at the gym.”

  “You’re right. But we have to consider the possibility that there’s more than one person involved here, so Kevin still isn’t off the hook.”

  Nancy’s attention was distracted when she happened to glance at the nearby press room. There was Irene Neff, talking with Brenda Carlton, who had a portable cassette recorder in her lap.

  “Well, well, there’s our top suspect now,” Nancy murmured. “Let’s try to talk with her.”

  As they approached the doorway, Irene was saying, “TruForm makes the finest running shoes ever designed. We wanted the best endorsed by the best, and that’s Renee. I’m certain that she’s on her way to number one. Not just for one race, either—for all time.”

  “That’s quite a claim,” Brenda said. “What about Annette Lang? She’s got to be one of the all-time best.”

  Irene lifted her shoulders in a slight shrug. “Annette’s all right. She’s had a good career, but now she’s going downhill. Renee Clark is the future of distance racing. Ask anyone.”

  Brenda gave Irene Neff a sly look. “I understand you wanted Annette to endorse TruForm and that she turned you down.”

  This is news, Nancy thought, although she wasn’t sure if it was the truth or a concoction of Brenda’s, designed to get a juicy reaction.

  “Where did you hear that nonsense?” Irene snapped. “Did Annette tell you that?”

  “We journalists have to protect our sources,” Brenda said smugly. “I’m not at liberty—”

  “Never mind. It’s not true. Actually, Annette wanted to sign with us, but we said no. Renee was the one I wanted.”

  Nancy had heard enough. “Sorry to interrupt,” she said, entering the press room with Bess, “but I need to see Ms. Neff for a minute. It’s important.”

  Brenda glared at Nancy and Bess. “How come you have to interfere with a reporter on the job? I thought you were only here on vacation.”

  “I’ll be right back,” Ms. Neff assured Brenda, sparing Nancy the need to reply.

  The TruForm rep gave Nancy and Bess an appraising look, then followed them to some chairs that were out of hearing range of the press room. “Nancy Drew, right?” the woman said impatiently as she sat down. “Let’s make this quick, whatever it is. I’ve got a million things to do today.”

  “We thought you should know that we were almost brained a few minutes ago by a large ceramic pot that fell from your room.”

  Irene Neff’s mouth opened, but no sound came out of it. “My room?” she finally managed to say. “But that’s— Are you certain?”

  “We just came from there,” Nancy told her. “The door was ajar, the window was wide open, and there wasn’t a plant in sight. Did there used to be a large potted plant in your room?”

  “Yes,” Irene replied. “But when I left my room before breakfast this morning, it was still there. I haven’t been back since.” Irene wrung her hands, and her eyes darted around. “You mean, someone else . . . ? I don’t understand.”

  “When we met you with Renee Clark this morning, you walked away,” Nancy pressed. “You didn’t go to your room?”

  Irene’s hazel eyes narrowed. “What’s with all the questions?” she demanded hotly. “What business is it of yours where I went? Look, I’m sorry about what happened, but I had nothing to do with it. Now I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse me.”

  “One last thing,” Nancy said as Irene started to walk toward the press room. “If you didn’t push the planter out the window, that means someone got into your room. Any ideas on who it is or how they got in?”

  “None,” Ms. Neff said. She walked away without looking back.

  “There’s something funny about her,” Bess said under her breath.

  “She was definitely defensive,” Nancy agreed. Then, glancing at her watch, she said, “Whoops, we’re already half an hour late to meet George!”

  The girls arrived at the nearby Pinnacle Club just a few minutes later. The front area was richly carpeted, with several couches and chairs. Posters of well-known athletes from Chicago’s professional sports teams hung on the walls.

  “Oh, yes,” the blond young man at the desk said when Nancy supplied their names. “Your friend has already taken care of the guest fee. You’ll find her through there.”

  Nancy and Bess were heading toward the gray metal door he indicated when George came through it, dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt. Sweat-dampened curls stuck to her forehead.

  “Kevin just arranged to tape an interview with Annette while she’s using some of the exercise machines here,” George said excitedly. “The club’s giving him exclusive use of the big workout room for an hour. He’s going to get some terrific material out of this!”

  Nancy stepped aside as the door opened again. This time a group of runners walked out, grumbling among themselves. Gina Giraldi was with them, and she had a ferocious scowl on her face. The runners were obviously angry about having to cut short their workout because of Annette’s interview.

  Renee Clark was right behind Gina. She was the only one who didn’t seem upset. She gave Nancy, Bess, and George a smile as she passed by. “My trainer was supposed to meet me here,” Nancy heard her say to one of the runners in the group, “but since our workout ended early, I guess I’ll just go back to the hotel and find him.”

  “Where’s Kevin?” Bess asked, drawing Nancy’s attention back to her friends.

  “Oh, he had to make arrangements for the TV crew to come. He’ll be back soon,” said George.

  Giving George a concerned look, Nancy asked, “When did he leave?”

  “A while ago,” George replied. “He had to cut his workout short when he got the idea of using the gym as background for the interview.”

  Nancy felt a rush of anxiety. So Kevin could have pushed that planter out the window. He was as much a suspect as ever. She would have to talk to George about this—and soon.

  “Is Annette here?” Bess asked.

  “She was supposed to be here by now, but I haven’t seen her yet.” Shrugging, George added, “Oh, well, I’m sure she’ll be here in a few minutes. Hey, come take a look at the women’s locker room. It’s awesome! Steam room, sauna, whirlpool, lounge—you name it!”

  She led Nancy and Bess through the gray metal door and past a huge room full of exercycles, stair climbers, weights, and some other equipment Nancy didn’t recognize. At the far end was the door to the women’s locker room. George pushed it open, and Nancy and Bess followed her in.

  “Nice,” Nancy said, looking around. The locker room was spacious, with wooden benches and shiny red lockers.

  “And you haven’t even seen the whirlpool and sauna yet.” George grinned. “There’s even a—”

  “Ssh!” Nancy said suddenly. Cocking her head to one side, she strained to identify the faint noise that had caught her attention.

  A thumping noise was coming from the far end of the locker room.

  “What is that?” asked Bess.

  “The whirlpool and s
auna are back there,” George said. She led her friends down an aisle of lockers and around a corner.

  The thumping grew louder as they approached the sauna door. Then Nancy realized that the noise was actually coming from a door next to the sauna. She tried the door, but it wouldn’t open.

  “Hello?” she called. “Who’s in there? Are you all right?”

  There was silence.

  Worry ate at Nancy as she reached into her shoulder bag and pulled out the lockpicking kit she always carried. She selected a slender length of flexible steel and inserted it into the keyhole. A moment later there was a click. With George and Bess looking on, she pulled the door open.

  Nancy gasped as a body fell limply to the floor at her feet.

  It was Annette Lang!

  Chapter

  Eight

  OH, NO!” Bess exclaimed. “Is she . . . ?”

  Nancy’s heart was in her throat as she bent over Annette to check her pulse. Just then, Annette stirred, and the three teens let out a collective sigh of relief.

  “I’ll get help,” said George, turning to go.

  “No!” Annette’s voice, urgent and harsh, stopped George in her tracks. “I don’t need help. I’m all right. I just blacked out for a second. That closet was so small and dark. I’ve been afraid of places like that since I was a kid.”

  The runner struggled to rise, helped by Nancy and George. Bess grabbed a stool for Annette from in front of a locker. Breathing deeply, Annette sat down. Her hair was a mess, and her clothes were disheveled, but she didn’t seem to be hurt.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Nancy asked, kneeling by Annette’s side. “What happened?”

  “I’m fine,” the runner replied. “I came in here a little while ago to put on my workout clothes. Everyone else was getting dressed to leave. Then, about a minute after everyone left, the lights went out. Someone grabbed me from behind, wrestled me into that closet, and locked the door on me.”

  “Did whoever it was say anything?”

  Annette nodded. “I think it was, ‘Get smart and drop out, lady, or next time you’ll really get hurt.’ It was something like that, anyway.”