Something to Hide

by Carolyn Keene

  It could also have been Brad who used a brown pen to write the threatening note when he left that poisoned sample of Spotless on Nancy’s front porch. He could hardly have missed the fact that Justin always wrote with brown ink.

  It was starting to look as though Brad had been lying.

  The question was why. Why did Brad want everyone to think Justin was the poisoner?

  Nancy thought back to Brad’s comments that afternoon. At the time she had thought it was strange that he wanted to tell Emerson as well as the police about Justin’s guilt. Surely that was a story for the police, not a college.

  “Justin should be expelled for what he did!” Brad had said. Was that his goal—getting Justin expelled? According to Ned, Brad and Justin were the top students in the marketing program. It was likely one of them would get the job in Chicago. Was the poisoning an elaborate way to be sure that Brad was the winner?

  “But even if that’s true, why would Brad want to hurt Marcia?” Nancy asked aloud. Marcia wasn’t a serious contender for the job with Premier. Was her poisoning connected to the Spotless samples—or could there be two poisoners?

  With a grim smile, Nancy rose to her feet.

  There may be two, she thought. But I know for sure that there’s at least one. And now I know who he is.

  Chapter

  Sixteen

  THIS IS TERRIFIC!” Bess said as she surveyed her friends’ costumes.

  “What I like are the props. They’re what really make these costumes. I can’t believe they gave us Toto, too!”

  George, whose Tin Man costume fit her just right, held out her oil can and gestured at the stuffed dog Bess was holding. With her blond hair hidden under a dark wig, Toto snuggled in her arms, and ruby slippers on her feet, Bess made a perfect Dorothy.

  Ned put his arm around Nancy’s shoulders and gave her a big lion’s-paw hug. “No one would ever recognize you in that Scarecrow costume,” he said.

  “Actually, I’m counting on at least one person at the party to recognize me.”

  Nancy’s face was very serious. “Bess, George, I’ve already told Ned this. I think I’ve figured out who poisoned the Spotless samples. I wanted you to know before we got to the party.”

  Bess was putting on her makeup in the mirror. “But we already know, Nan. It was Justin.”

  Nancy paused.

  “Wasn’t it?” asked Bess.

  “I don’t think so,” Nancy said.

  “But Bess told me all the evidence pointed to him,” said George.

  “It does, but that’s only because he was being framed,” Nancy explained.

  “What do you mean? Who framed him?” asked George. “Heather? Is that why she was in Chicago?”

  Nancy shook her head.

  “But, Nancy, there’s only one person left besides Marcia,” Bess said uneasily. “I know you’re not trying to say that—”

  Nancy rose and put her hand on Bess’s shoulder. “Yes, I am,” she said sympathetically. “I hate to tell you this, Bess, but it looks like Brad’s the poisoner.”

  For a second Bess just stared at her. Then she gave a wavering little smile. “No, that’s not possible,” she said. “I know Brad. He’s—he’s just not that kind of person.”

  “I’m afraid he is, Bess,” said Ned quietly. “It was a shock to me, too. He’s fooled us all.”

  “But why?” George asked, astonished.

  Nancy explained. “He wanted to discredit Justin so he’d get the job at the ad agency. It’s as simple as that.”

  “Brad wants that job badly,” Ned put in. “I agree with Nancy. He’ll do anything to get it.”

  “Even making Marcia so sick? And—and me?” Bess’s voice was filled with horror.

  “He’s a very good actor,” Nancy said. “But I’m sure he wasn’t pretending with you, Bess. I think he really likes you.”

  Bess shuddered. “I don’t know whether that’s good or bad!” she wailed.

  “I don’t, either,” said Nancy. “Bess, please don’t leave the party alone with him for any reason. I’m planning to confront him there, and I don’t trust what he’s going to do.”

  “I won’t even talk to him,” Bess vowed.

  This time it was Ned who shook his head. “That won’t work, either. Let Nancy handle it, but until she does, you both need to pretend nothing has happened.”

  “But he’s a poisoner!” Bess protested.

  George turned to her cousin. “Well, then, this is your chance to prove you’re as good at acting as he is.”

  “Bess, this is very important,” Nancy said softly.

  “Okay, I’ll do it,” said Bess. Her chin was trembling, but there was a look of dogged determination in her eye. “You guys are about to see an Academy Award-winning performance.”

  • • •

  Even if she hadn’t been there earlier that day to drop off the pumpkins, Nancy would have had no trouble finding Justin’s house. Cars lined the street, and the sound of rock music drifted out to meet the four friends as they pulled up beside the curb.

  “Hi, everybody!” Justin called as they entered the house. “Your costumes are great!”

  “So is yours,” George replied cheerfully. Justin was dressed as a mad scientist. With his rumpled lab coat and his curly hair standing on end, he looked the part perfectly.

  To the right of the foyer was the living room, filled with people in brightly colored costumes. Nancy’s eyes scanned the group. “Have Brad and Heather gotten here yet?” she asked Justin.

  “Not yet. Heather said she might be a little late. Help yourself to punch!” Justin pointed to the dining room on their left, where a long table was crammed with food. A huge ceramic pumpkin in the middle of the table held punch.

  “Well, I’d like to work up an appetite before I eat,” said Ned. “Want to dance, Nancy?”

  He took her by the arm and led her into Justin’s huge living room, where all the furniture had been pushed against the walls. “This gives us a chance to talk,” he said as he pulled her close, “and you can watch for Brad.”

  At that moment the front door opened again, and Heather floated into the foyer, wearing a picture-perfect Cinderella costume. “She looks great,” Nancy said. “Still no Brad, though. I wonder where he is.”

  “He’ll be here.” Ned sounded confident. “He doesn’t know we suspect him, remember. Didn’t you tell him you were going to confront Justin?” Ned pulled her closer and spoke into her ear. No one watching them would have known they were discussing a case. “Being Brad, he won’t want to miss that. That’s what he’s been working toward—having Justin discredited.”

  Over Ned’s shoulder, Nancy caught a glimpse of Bess dancing with Justin. Her friend was smiling as though she didn’t have a care in the world. Good for you, Bess! Nancy thought. You’re on your way to Hollywood!

  “Excuse me, Nickerson, but this is my dance.”

  Nancy kept a smile on her face as the hooded monk tapped Ned’s shoulder. With his hood drawn low over his face, it was hard to distinguish his features—but Nancy recognized his voice immediately.

  “Hello, Brad,” she said as Ned moved away. “I didn’t see you come in. What movie are you from?”

  “Oh, I didn’t bother with that,” Brad said.

  From this angle Nancy could see his face, and what she saw disturbed her. Had Brad’s eyes always looked that cold, or did they only seem that way now that she knew the truth about him?

  “I need to talk to you, Nancy,” he said. For some reason, Brad was nervous. But why?

  He took her hand and led her toward the patio. “Can we talk out there?” he asked.

  “But, Brad, it’s freezing out there!” Nancy protested in what she hoped was a merry voice.

  “We’ll need some privacy,” Brad answered shortly.

  Though Nancy nodded, she was uneasy. She didn’t want to confront Brad in the crowded room, but she was reluctant to be alone with him. As she followed Brad out of the room, she caught Ned’s
eye and tossed her head slightly in the direction of the patio. She hoped he’d recognize the signal she was sending him.

  The instant the two of them were out on the patio, Brad asked, “Why aren’t the police here yet? I thought we agreed you’d call them and have them arrest Justin at the party.”

  Nancy took a deep breath. The time to confront Brad had arrived.

  “I didn’t call them,” she said in a quiet voice. “They have no reason to arrest an innocent person. You and I both know that Justin didn’t poison those Spotless samples.”

  “What are you talking about?” Brad demanded harshly. “Of course he did!”

  Nancy shook her head slowly. “It won’t work anymore, Brad.” She heard him gasp sharply and knew her words had hit home.

  “What—what are you talking about?” he blustered.

  “I know now that you’re the one who put the arsenic in the jars of Spotless,” Nancy continued. “I even know where you got the poison. Your father told me all about the arsenic he uses on his plants.”

  There was a moment of silence. Was Brad trying to invent another excuse?

  “That’s a crazy thing to say,” Brad told her calmly. He moved forward and grabbed both her shoulders. His hood had fallen back, and Nancy could see that his face was contorted with rage. But his voice was calm when he spoke again.

  “I’d never poison anyone. You obviously think you’re a great detective, Nancy. But where’s your evidence?”

  “Where’s yours?” Nancy countered. “Asco had nothing to do with these poisonings, and neither did Justin. So why did you keep telling me they did?”

  Brad just stared at her. Then, with a swift motion, he flung Nancy down and raced off.

  For a moment Nancy lay there stunned, but she quickly scrambled to her feet. She had to catch him!

  Brad had the advantage of a head start. By the time Nancy reached the front of the house, he was already in his car revving the engine.

  Nancy slid behind the wheel of the Mustang and fumbled under the seat for the extra key. “I’m not going to let you get away, Brad,” she muttered under her breath. Her hand found the key.

  Nancy turned on the ignition, and the Mustang burst to life with a roar.

  Brad’s car screeched around the near corner, careening dangerously. Nancy followed at a safe distance. The important thing was to keep him in sight. Once he stopped, she’d confront him.

  But he didn’t stop. Within a few minutes they were outside the city limits. Were they driving to Brad’s father’s greenhouses?

  The Chanin greenhouses were silhouetted in yellow light from the moon when Nancy pulled into the parking lot. Brad’s car was already there, but it was empty. Where was he?

  Slowly Nancy walked between the two large greenhouses, alert for any sound. Was Brad in one of the buildings? He couldn’t have gotten far.

  As Nancy tiptoed toward the second greenhouse, there was a faint creaking sound.

  It was the same sound she had heard that afternoon when Mr. Chanin had brought the wheelbarrow out of the gardening shed. Now she knew where Brad was.

  Cautiously Nancy made her way to the shed. She tipped her head to one side, listening for Brad. He was inside the shed—she was sure of it.

  Nancy reached for the door handle and pulled it slowly. The creaking she’d heard before sounded again.

  “I know you’re in there, Brad,” Nancy said steadily as she moved into the gardening shed.

  Nothing but silence greeted her—until Nancy heard the rush of air beside her ear. The sound intensified before the blow connected. Then the whole world went quiet and black.

  Chapter

  Seventeen

  GRADUALLY THE DARKNESS lightened. Nancy moved slightly—and moaned. Her head was throbbing, and she had no idea where she was. Slowly she opened her eyes to slits.

  The first thing she saw was Brad Chanin’s smile—a smile so full of malice that it took Nancy’s breath away.

  “So you decided to wake up,” he said with a nasty chuckle. “That’s nice. Now you can hear what I’ve planned for Nancy Drew, famous girl detective.”

  The haze was clearing from her head now. We’re in the gardening shed, Nancy thought. That much I remember.

  Looking down, she saw that she was propped up in a chair. Brad must have dragged her there—before he bound her wrists and ankles in front of her.

  “What is it you’ve planned?” Nancy asked. Though her heart was pounding, she forced her voice to stay calm. The longer she could keep Brad talking, the better her chances of getting away.

  Nancy realized with relief that Brad had turned on the overhead light. The darkness would have been to his advantage, since Nancy was unfamiliar with the inside of the shed. But now she could see—and her eyes were searching for anything that would help her get out.

  Brad was between Nancy and the door. She’d have to distract him.

  But what was he doing now?

  Flashing her another evil smile, he picked up a hose with a funnel-shaped nozzle from the floor. He fitted the hose onto a large metal cylinder and walked slowly toward her, dragging the cylinder behind him.

  “You’re going to die, Nancy Drew,” he said with a smile.

  Nancy forced herself to remain calm. Brad had made mistakes before. If she could trick him into another one, she’d have a chance. “You’ll never get away with this,” she said in a reasonable voice.

  “Oh, yes, I will, and everyone will think it was an accident.”

  Nancy raised one eyebrow. “An accident when my hands and feet are tied? The police will never believe that!”

  “Oh, they will when I get done.” Brad gestured toward the cylinder. “This is a fogger, the kind we use to kill pests on roses. It kills other pests, too.” He chuckled, obviously amused by his own wit.

  “First, I’m going to give you just enough to make you unconscious. Then I’ll wait until you’re out and give you the rest. When the police arrive, it’ll be too late. River Heights’s prize snoop will be gone.”

  Stall, Nancy told herself. The longer you can keep him talking, the better.

  “You’ve thought this all out, haven’t you?” she asked, trying to make her voice sound admiring. “Why did you poison the Spotless samples in the first place?”

  “Easy.” Brad opened one of the drawers on the workbench and pulled out a gas mask. “I had to do something to get Justin out of the marketing program. If he was suspected of sabotaging the samples, Emerson would expel him. Then he’d be sure not to get that job at Premier.”

  “Is the job that important to you?”

  The light glinted off Brad’s glasses. “I’ve got to be the best—understand? Heather wasn’t much competition, but Justin just wouldn’t give up.” He shook his head in disbelief.

  “Very clever,” Nancy said dryly. “But I still don’t understand why you poisoned Marcia.”

  Brad started to slip the gas mask over his face, then paused. “Marcia was too nosy for her own good. We went out for a while. Did you know that?” He smiled smugly. “She broke up with me because she said I was obsessed with getting ahead. Can you imagine breaking up with someone because he was too ambitious?

  “She wouldn’t stop nagging me,” he went on. “She saw the arsenic in my car the night we were all at Heather’s—and she threatened to tell everyone I was poisoning the samples.”

  So that was the explanation for Marcia’s phone call.

  “I would have been expelled for that,” Brad continued. “So naturally I couldn’t let her get away with it. I followed her home that day at lunch. It was so easy.”

  There was no mistaking the gloat in his voice.

  “I told her I had stolen the questionnaires. When she went out to check on them, I just slipped a little arsenic into her soda.”

  “But you miscalculated,” Nancy said. “She didn’t die.”

  Brad stared at her. “I never meant to kill Marcia! All I wanted to do was make her sick enough so that she’d know I w
as serious. Then she’d keep her mouth shut!”

  For the first time his words gave Nancy a glimmer of hope. “You don’t really want to kill me, either, then?” she asked.

  “No, I don’t.” Brad frowned. “All I want is that job at Premier. But you’re not as easy to scare as Marcia,” he said crossly. “I tried to frighten you with the poisoned sample and the threatening note. Those didn’t work.” He pulled the cylinder closer. “I kept telling you that Justin was the poisoner, but you refused to believe me. Sorry, Nancy,” he said sadly. “I have no choice. You’ve got to die.”

  He reached for the gas mask again. It was now or never.

  Nancy flung herself forward. Using her head as a battering ram, she crashed into Brad and knocked him to the ground. She heard a groan —and then there was silence.

  He’s only stunned, Nancy reminded herself, but it will give me a few seconds to get out of the shed.

  Struggling desperately against the wire that bound her feet and hands, Nancy tried to stand. It was no use. Until she could free her feet, she wouldn’t be able to get off the floor.

  How far am I from the workbench? She thought frantically. There has to be some kind of knife or clippers there.

  Nancy rolled over and over, wincing in agony as the wires cut into her wrists and ankles.

  One more turn, and I’ll be there!

  Then she’d reached it. Nancy rolled onto her side and raised herself up on her elbow. With painful slowness she worked the bottom drawer open and felt feverishly inside it.

  A roll of plant wire. A trowel. A gardening fork. The clippers. Nancy pulled them out with the tips of her fingers.

  “Oh, no, you don’t!” Brad loomed over her now.

  He grabbed her by the shoulder and yanked her away from the workbench. As he did, the clippers flew out of her hands.

  “You’re not getting away!” Brad yelled furiously. “That job is mine. You can’t stop me!”

  Brad had to bend down to pull Nancy away from the workbench—and that was his undoing.

  Nancy brought her knees to her chest, kicked out with all her might—and sent Brad sprawling.