Model Menace

by Carolyn Keene

  We all smiled, and I tried not to let my surprise at Akinyi’s little speech show on my face. I hadn’t forgotten that at the present time, Akinyi and Jamal looked like the most likely suspects to have caused all the strife she was talking about. But at the same time, I was hoping like crazy that she was being sincere now, and they really weren’t behind it.

  But—who else could have done it? Who else had the means and the motive?

  Suddenly I became aware of the other bridesmaids oohing and aahing, and I turned to see Sydney stepping out of the small bedroom where she and her mother had been getting ready, followed by Donald and two cameramen. (Hans was part of the crew filming Vic this morning.) Syd looked unbelievably beautiful in the designer ball gown. Her long fiery hair was pinned up in a romantic chignon, and pearl jewelry shone on her ears, throat, and wrist.

  “You look so beautiful,” Bess cried, running up to hug her cousin. The cameraman focused on the two of them, trying to discreetly film the moment. “Wow! Just…wait till Vic sees you, coz!”

  Ellie stepped out behind her daughter, misty-eyed in her pretty sage green dress, and the cameras turned on her. “I can’t believe this is really happening,” she said with a sheepish smile at all of us bridesmaids. “My little girl is getting married today! We actually made it!”

  Syd chuckled and turned to kiss her mother’s cheek. “The ceremony is going to be beautiful,” she announced, “I’m sure of it. I don’t know why, but I just woke up feeling really good about this day. Nothing has gone wrong so far—my dress is fine, my hair and makeup came out fine. And you know the producers have ramped up security to an insane degree. Maybe everything will really be okay!”

  We all smiled at Syd, trying to mimic her enthusiasm, and I tried to think about what she said and whether it was really possible. It was true—security for the ceremony was going to be superhigh. Maybe she was right. Maybe, if we just let security keep an eye on the situation, the wedding really would go off without a hitch.

  Of course, if the wedding saboteur really was part of the wedding party, it would be impossible to keep them out.

  Donald checked his watch. “I don’t mean to rush you, but it’s about time to go, girls,” he said.

  Syd nodded. “Okay. Time to get in the limo and head to the park. Where’s Pandora?”

  Akinyi rolled her eyes. “Still in the bathroom, getting ready.”

  Without missing a beat, Syd walked swiftly over to the bathroom door, followed by a cameraman, and pounded on it with her fist. “Pandora? It’s Syd. We’re leaving.”

  Surprisingly Pandora opened the door right away. And even more surprising, she looked completely ready. “Oh, no problem,” she said, taking in Syd in her dress. “Wow, you look unbelievable! I was just putting some rose oil on my pulse points.” She looked at the rest of us and smiled. “Not just for the scent. Rose oil is for love—very wedding-appropriate!”

  The cameras both crowded in, getting close ups of Pandora’s excited face and her rose-oil-smeared wrists. Pandora beamed angelically. I thought back to Dragon’s conversation with Hans the night before. It was almost enough to make me wonder: had Pandora lingered extralong in the bathroom to guarantee this camera time? Was the “rose oil” just a cute line she had rehearsed for the cameras?

  I didn’t have much time to think it over, because with all of us ready (Bess had applied my makeup before George’s—I had somehow gotten out of it with a “subtle eye”), we trooped out of the suite and rode the elevator down to the lobby. A few random hotel guests were clustered there in the sitting room, and they oohed and aahed as we all walked by.

  “Have a wonderful wedding, dear,” an elderly woman advised Syd, reaching out to squeeze the bride’s hand.

  Syd just smiled confidently. “Oh, don’t worry,” she replied, “I will.”

  “I go first, then George!” Deb was saying as we all struggled to line up inside the Kelley Park boathouse, which was serving as our staging area for the ceremony. We were only minutes away, and tensions were running high. At least among the bridal party. I think we were really stressing out poor Donald, who’d been assigned to get us camera-ready.

  “Well,” he said in his quiet voice, not quite making eye contact with anyone. “Perhaps we should…”

  “What does it matter?” interrupted Akinyi, who seemed to have turned irritable again the minute we hit the park. Perhaps her mood was due to the heavy security—it had taken us each half an hour to get through the metal detectors, checking and rechecking our names, and searching our purses. Most of the other bridesmaids seemed annoyed by the inconvenience, but I personally found it comforting. It was hard to imagine a scenario where any guest could sneak a weapon into the park, or anything else that could cause a calamity.

  “It matters,” Deb announced, “because Syd has carefully matched us up with the groomsmen. If we don’t keep the right order, we could end up standing with guys that are way shorter than us! Or way taller! Is that what you want?”

  Donald held up his hand, clearly wanting this argument to end. “Girls!” he said, his soft voice still barely audible. “If you’ll just…if you…Sydney?”

  Syd, who’d been staring out the window with a dreamy expression, finally turned around. “Okay, so Deb, then George,” she said gently, and the bridesmaids in question fell into line. “Then Bess. Then Pandora. Then Nancy.” Donald nodded gratefully as she flashed a smile at me. I took my place at the end of the line. “No offense, Nance,” she assured me with a little smirk. “You know the Daredevils producers had to ‘consult’ on my procession order.”

  “I wasn’t offended,” I clarified with a smile. “This way I get to keep an eye on everybody.” I was only half-kidding.

  Syd nodded, turning to her best friend. “Then Akinyi,” she said, gesturing for her friend to take her place.

  But Akinyi’s attention was focused out the window as up-tempo organ music began to play. “Look!” she cried. “The men are lining up!”

  Donald seemed concerned as everyone abandoned her place to get a good look out the window. “Ladies, just…er…remember where you were!”

  Deb frowned, stomping over from her place in line. “No, Syd!” she cried. “You’re not supposed to see Vic before the wedding!”

  “I think this is the wedding,” George observed dryly.

  Syd just waved her friend’s concern away. “Deb, I’m just so happy to be at the part where I get to walk down the aisle,” she said. “Old superstitions like that are the least of my worries.” She peered out the window, smiling. “Oh, here comes Dragon!”

  I couldn’t help but dart a glance at Pandora, who was standing behind all of us, looking bored. She glanced up quickly, her face a little pink, and tried to catch a glimpse of her secret boyfriend. But within seconds she was back to staring at her fingernails.

  “Here comes Jamal,” Akinyi added, a tiny smile forming on her face as she watched the best man stroll to the altar. “And here comes Vic.”

  Syd moved closer to the window, pressing her nose against it as though she were trying to get closer to Vic himself. I had to admit, Vic looked incredibly handsome in his gray tuxedo with a shiny white vest and bow tie. His dark hair had been slicked into place, and he wore a huge smile that left no doubt to any of the guests as to how he felt to be marrying his bride.

  “Oh, gosh,” whispered Syd. “Oh, this is it. He looks amazing!”

  As Syd turned away from the window, ready to take her place at the back of the line, I grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “Are you nervous?” I whispered.

  Syd looked at me, seeming totally at peace. “Not at all,” she replied. “I’m about to marry the love of my life. How could I be nervous about that?”

  I smiled, squeezed her hand, and then let go to take my place. “Congratulations,” I whispered.

  Touching the earpiece he wore as though he were receiving instructions from Hans, who was set up outside, Donald nodded and reached for the boathouse door with shaking hands. �
��All right, ladies,” he said, “when the music starts, you may start the procession.”

  A loud organ note sounded. But just then, it seemed like several things happened at once. There was an enormous crash from outside, followed by screams! I could hear someone yelling from the audience, “Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!”

  Then I heard someone shout, “Vic? Are you okay?”

  Syd jumped out of her place in line, running to the door to get a glimpse of what happened. But Akinyi darted out first, then stepped back, restraining her friend. “It’s okay,” she said simply, hugging Syd, “he’s okay.”

  Donald stepped around the two friends, looking uncomfortable as he surveyed the damage.

  “What happened?” George demanded, her face full of concern.

  Donald looked back at her, almost as though he couldn’t believe it himself. “A huge can light fell down from the rafters,” he replied, “but it missed Vic. Just barely.”

  The wedding was halted. A doctor was brought over to examine Vic, but he was quickly pronounced “okay.” Miraculously, he had stepped over to ask Jamal if he had the rings just seconds before the light came crashing down. If he hadn’t done that, all the wedding guests claimed, Vic would have been crushed.

  It was the most dangerous stunt the wedding saboteur had tried yet.

  Sydney was sitting in a puddle of white organza, sobbing, as her mother furiously tried to salvage Syd’s hairdo and keep any makeup from getting on her dress. “Honey,” she said soothingly. “Come on. Everyone’s okay. Just keep yourself together, and we can go ahead with the wedding soon.”

  Sydney sniffled, looking at her mother in shock. “Mom,” she cried, “my fiancé was just almost killed! I can’t get married here today! What if someone gets hurt?”

  I couldn’t help but think she might be right. For Syd and Vic, elopement was looking like a pretty good option right now. And I couldn’t help but feel like that was partly because of me—because I’d been so slow to finger a culprit. Because I’d ignored my findings last night, just hoping and praying that I’d been way off.

  Off to the left of the altar, all of the major Daredevils players were huddled in a powwow. I knew they were debating how to proceed—go on with the wedding? Investigate what happened? Was it safe for everyone to be here?

  Filled with a sudden sense of purpose, I left the bridal party in the boathouse and walked over.

  “You should report this to the police,” I announced, not bothering to excuse myself or explain who I was before entering the conversation.

  Fifteen sets of eyes looked up at me skeptically.

  “And you are?” asked Madge Michaels, the bossy assistant director. I could tell she was looking at my bridesmaid dress and assuming I just wanted to protect my friend.

  “This is Nancy Drew,” Hans replied, surprising me—that he knew my name, and that he was going to show me some respect even though I’d interrupted their private meeting. “Nancy has quite a reputation in this town, I gather—she’s an amateur detective.”

  The other crew members murmured curiously, glancing at me with surprise.

  “In fact,” Hans went on, “Nancy’s already rid us of a traitorous bridesmaid.” He smiled.

  “That was you?” Butch, a cameraman, asked. He looked at me like he couldn’t believe I could catch a mouse, much less a crook.

  Of course, I was used to this.

  “You should report this to the police,” I repeated, turning back to Hans. “It’s the most serious attack yet. Someone could have been killed. Who knows what this person will try next?”

  Hans sighed. He looked at me, really seeming to be considering my idea, but then shook his head. “Nancy,” he said, “if we alert the police, we stop filming. We lose control of the situation. We lose, potentially, the thousands of dollars we’ve sunk into this television special.” He paused. “That said,” he continued finally, “we could use your help.”

  And he touched my arm and led me back to the “staging area,” where most of the Daredevils crew was set up—a small square of grass across from the boathouse. A television van was parked there. Hans knocked on the door, and Donald—who’d long since left the tears and chaos of the boathouse—answered.

  “I want to show Nancy the tape,” Hans told Donald.

  Donald looked surprised. “Are you sure?” he asked. “It’s very inconclusive.”

  Hans nodded. “I want her to see what we’re up against.”

  Donald retreated into the van, and Hans led me inside. The van was filled with video equipment. One television showed a black-and-white grainy image of the altar on the beach. Hans gestured to it.

  “As you know, Nancy, we’ve been building this set for three days. The last of the lighting was put in place last night at around eleven. We left it here, guarded, and with high security—meaning cameras.” He nodded at the screen. “Unfortunately for all of us, it would appear that our night watchman fell asleep last night. He’s not entirely sure, but he thinks he was out from one o’clock in the morning until three. He has, by the way, been fired.”

  I nodded, not sure how to react. “Good?”

  “Anyway,” Hans said, “our saboteur would have had to have struck within that time frame. And as it happens, we did get some video footage.”

  He leaned over to what appeared to be a DVD player and hit Rewind. The image sprung into motion, moving backward so quickly that I could just barely make out a dark figure backing out of the frame.

  Then Hans hit Play. I leaned in closer, trying to get a good look as a dark figure entered the frame from the left. He—or she—was fairly tall, but draped entirely in a huge, dark, baggy raincoat. He took a few steps, then paused and looked up—directly at the camera! I gasped. Whoever it was, the figure was wearing a black ski mask to hide his or her face. The video was so grainy I couldn’t make out hair or even skin color. In one swift motion, the figure reached into a pocket and removed a can of spray paint. He or she held up the can, and the image was quickly obliterated as the wedding saboteur covered the camera lens with thick foam.

  “That’s it,” Hans explained. “That’s all we have to go on.”

  I was silent. Clearly that image wasn’t going to lead to an arrest. Which meant that the producers had nothing. And as much as I’d pushed to report the incident to the police, I knew the River Heights Police. I wasn’t entirely sure whether they’d be able to get much more than this.

  “If you have any hunches, Nancy,” Hans went on, “any at all, now’s the time to share them. If you want to save your friend’s wedding and keep all her guests safe.”

  I let out a deep sigh. Jamal and Akinyi. The names were on the tip of my tongue. They’d been around for all of the incidents so far, and one or both of them could have snuck into the park last night. And I had to admit, if I hadn’t met and liked them both—and more importantly, if I hadn’t known how much Syd and Vic loved them—I would have voiced my suspicions a long time ago.

  “Akinyi and Jamal,” I said in a low voice, taking no pleasure in sharing this information. “The best man and the maid of honor. Between the two of them, they were present at all the incidents, and they had the opportunity.”

  Hans frowned. “But why would they do it?” he asked.

  “They’re sort of seeing each other,” I replied. “Or at least, they have in the past. And Vic lost a very lucrative job for Jamal a few years ago. Vic thinks he’s forgiven him, but I don’t know that he has.”

  Hans looked at me for a moment, as if judging whether he could trust me, and then nodded. “Donald,” he said, “bring Akinyi and Jamal in here.”

  I felt my blood run cold. You’re going to ask them? Now? But deep down, I knew they’d want to see how any suspects reacted to an accusation. And Hans wasn’t a sleuth. If he was going to search their rooms, it would be because he got their permission and the keys to their rooms. There would be no “I lost my key” dance for the Daredevils director.

  It probably took only a couple minute
s before Akinyi and Jamal entered the van, but they felt like hours. As soon as Akinyi entered, she shot me a confused look. Jamal looked from me to Akinyi to Hans, as though he had no idea what was going on.

  “Sit down,” Hans urged them. They did.

  “What’s this about?” Jamal demanded, somewhat impatiently. “Because in case you hadn’t noticed, my best friend is having kind of a rough afternoon and I’d like to be there for him.”

  “Me too,” agreed Akinyi. “What could be so important?”

  Hans looked over at me. “Nancy, would you like to explain?”

  No, I thought. But I knew I had to. “Well…” I began, “the thing is…”

  I broke off. How was I going to put this? The only way was just to put it all on the table.

  “I’ve been keeping track of who was around for the different attacks on Vic and Syd…and the text messages that followed,” I explained.

  Akinyi nodded. “Okay.”

  I took a deep breath. “Either you or Jamal has always been present,” I went on. “And one or both of you has always disappeared right as the act was taking place…meaning you, well, you might have done it.”

  Akinyi’s eyes turned immediately cold. She looked at me like she’d never seen me before in her life. Jamal just sighed, putting his head in his hands with an expression like he’d been afraid this would happen.

  “And why would I have done this?” Akinyi asked, her voice rising. “Syd is my best friend. Why would I ruin her wedding?”

  I sighed. “Well, to be fair, you haven’t always been very psyched to be a part of that wedding,” I pointed out. “But if you’re asking what your motive would be…I’m guessing it has something to do with Vic getting Jamal fired years ago. That completely changed your life, Jamal. I can see your being upset.”

  Jamal let out a short bark of laughter. “But I’m not,” he insisted, meeting my eye. Even though I knew I was only sharing my observations, the disappointment in his eyes still shamed me. “Vic is my best friend. I forgave him, because that’s what best friends do.”