If Looks Could Kill

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If Looks Could Kill Page 6

by Carolyn Keene


  “I love your new haircut,” Nancy commented.

  “Oh, do you?” Mrs. Smythe said, overjoyed. “That Martika is a genius. My hairdresser at home would never have thought of anything as simple as this.”

  “I was just wondering, Mr. Winchell,” Nancy said, changing the subject, “as Martika’s partner, do you think things are going as well as I do?”

  “Why, yes!” he said happily. “Trouble free, as far as I can tell. This week should put Cloud Nine on the map, provided everything keeps going so beautifully.”

  “Do you think there might be more Martika Sawyer resorts in the future?” Nancy probed.

  “That all depends,” he said cryptically. “If Cloud Nine does well, who knows? But if it doesn’t, there are always other ways to invest one’s money.”

  Nancy wanted to ask him what he meant by that, but just then Christina Adams floated over and gave Winchell a kiss on the cheek. “Preston, darling! Haven’t they fed you yet? It’s taking so long to serve dinner! Come on, you’re wanted at my table.” She held out her hand to him.

  “Wanted? Who wants me?” he asked, with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

  “I do,” Christina replied, taking his hand and leading him away. “Pardon us,” she said to Nancy and Mrs. Smythe.

  “Isn’t she beautiful?” Mrs. Smythe asked, gazing at Christina.

  “She’s one of a kind,” Nancy replied.

  • • •

  That night the dance club rang with the music of a Caribbean steel band. The beat of the drums was irresistible, and everyone crowded onto the floor.

  Bess had to stop after only two dances. Derek helped her back to her chair next to Nancy’s. “Sorry, Derek,” Bess told him. “I’m a little tired, I guess.”

  “Pity,” Derek said. “How about you, Nancy? Would you like to stand in for your friend?”

  “No thanks, Derek,” Nancy told him. “I’m kind of tired myself. But don’t worry, I know you won’t have any trouble finding a partner.”

  Derek smiled as he started off. “I’m sure I won’t,” he added arrogantly.

  “I’m devastated,” Bess moaned. “Why did I work out so hard? Now I’m missing all the fun!”

  “Poor Bess,” Nancy said sympathetically. “Maybe you’ll feel better tomorrow night. Hey, we’re here for a whole week, remember?”

  “I guess you’re right,” Bess said, sighing. “I’m going back to the suite. Want to come?”

  “No, thanks,” Nancy said. “I want to stick around in case something interesting happens.” Her attention was caught by George and Kurt, who were dancing up a storm. Martika was dancing with Preston Winchell—until Christina cut in and took him away. Nancy thought an argument might break out after that, but Martika contained her rage, and the night remained peaceful.

  By the time Nancy and George were back in the suite and ready for bed it was after midnight. “Well, things seem to be going all right,” George commented.

  “It’s too quiet,” Nancy said. “Criminals don’t usually stop until they get what they want. And this criminal hasn’t yet got what he or she wants.”

  “Well, get some sleep, Nancy,” George advised.

  “Right,” Nancy said, plumping up her pillow and falling back onto it. In moments she was sound asleep.

  • • •

  The next morning after breakfast, Bess went off to steam in the mineral baths, while George left for a lesson with Paul Flores, the tennis pro.

  Nancy headed down to the scuba shack, where Martika was waiting for her in a shocking-pink diving suit. She was trailed by a female security guard. “See, Nancy?” Martika said, indicating the guard. “I did just what you told me to. Nadine is a tae kwon do expert, aren’t you, Nadine?”

  The pretty young woman nodded.

  “Nadine, you can take some time off now,” Martika suggested. “I’ll meet you back in my suite at, say, eleven.”

  “Okay,” Nadine said, shrugging. She turned and started back up the stairs.

  Nancy collected her scuba gear and assured the instructor she was an accredited diver before going outside to slip it on. As she did, Martika asked, “What have you found out so far?”

  “Well, for one thing, neither Christina, Kurt, nor Derek has an alibi for the night when the shot was fired,” Nancy said.

  “Ha!” Martika cried, helping Nancy with her air tank. “But which one do you think did it? You don’t suspect Derek, do you?”

  “I don’t know what I think yet,” Nancy said. “But this will interest you. Yesterday afternoon George and I found out that Christina’s boat doesn’t have engine trouble at all. In fact, she told her crew to cripple the engine, in case anyone from the island came out to check on it.”

  “I knew it had to be something like that,” Martika said, her eyes blazing. “Of course, it’s too late now to throw her off the island. What I’d really like to do is throw her off the cliff!”

  “Speaking of cliffs,” Nancy said as they began a systematic check of their scuba gear, “when George and I were swimming back from Christina’s yacht, we found a grotto with a locked gate and a boat inside. What’s it for?”

  Martika seemed taken aback for a moment, but then she replied, “Oh, that. It’s in case of emergency. You can get to that little boat without going outdoors. There’s a tunnel leading down from the main house, cut right through the rock.”

  “I see,” Nancy said.

  “Anything else we need to discuss before we go diving?” Martika asked.

  “Just one thing. Do you have a will?”

  “Well, that’s a creepy question.” Martika’s ice blue eyes appeared troubled for a moment, but then they danced mischievously. “Yes, I do, as a matter of fact. And to answer your next question, Derek inherits everything. Anything else?”

  “Not right now,” Nancy said.

  Martika nodded. “Wait till you see what’s under here,” she said, wading into the clear aquamarine water. A few other divers were headed out to the reef, but Nancy lost sight of them when she dove and began swimming seaward.

  The day before, when she and George had gone snorkeling, Nancy had been too preoccupied with Christina’s yacht to notice much. Now, in the space of a minute or so, she saw an eel, some clown fish, a school of manta rays, and a lumbering sea turtle. Enchanted, she followed the turtle until it disappeared on the far side of the reef. She turned back and saw Martika, gesturing for her to go on.

  The reef was a true wonderland, and Nancy took her time to explore it. She tracked the sea turtle for a while, then, realizing how long she’d been separated from Martika, scanned the area for her. Finally she caught sight of the model’s hot-pink diving suit on the other side of the reef.

  Something was wrong.

  Martika was flailing her arms and legs wildly, clearly panicking.

  Nancy swam closer. It wasn’t until she actually reached Martika that she could tell what was happening. Her heart leapt to her throat at the sight.

  Martika’s oxygen regulator was in her mouth, and the other end of the tube was attached to the oxygen tank, but the two ends were no longer connected.

  Martika’s oxygen line had been cut in half!

  Chapter

  Nine

  MARTIKA WAS STRUGGLING SO violently that Nancy had a hard time helping her, but then all at once she seemed to collapse. She must be passing out, Nancy realized.

  Nancy grabbed her as she began to sink, knowing that Martika would be dead in a matter of minutes if she didn’t act quickly. Taking a deep breath, Nancy removed the regulator from her mouth and pushed it into Martika’s. Breathe! she thought. Breathe, Martika!

  Martika’s eyes opened as she sucked in the life-restoring air, but Nancy could tell her hold on consciousness was tenuous.

  Nancy slipped Martika’s left arm around her shoulders. Placing her right arm around Martika’s waist, Nancy kicked hard for the surface, struggling to make it before she had to take her regulator back. She was afraid Martika would really pa
nic if she had to remove the regulator from her mouth. Nancy was dizzy and seeing a wash of red across her field of vision from lack of oxygen as the two of them finally broke the surface near a head of coral.

  Nancy tread water as she sucked in lungfuls of air. She was grateful they hadn’t been deep and could surface quickly. After a minute she guided Martika to the head of coral, where they lay to recover. It was a long time before Nancy’s heartbeat returned to normal.

  “Oh, Nancy!” Martika sobbed. “I thought I was dead!”

  “What do you think happened?” Nancy asked, studying Martika’s oxygen line. It was apparent that it had been cut neatly in two.

  “I felt something tug on my line,” Martika said. “At first, I thought it was you. The next thing I knew, my line had been cut. I panicked. Nancy, you saved my life! How can I ever thank you?”

  “Let’s not worry about that now,” Nancy said quickly. “This line has definitely been severed. You’re sure you didn’t notice anyone nearby?”

  “I don’t think so, but I wasn’t really looking,” Martika said, distress pinching her voice. “There were several divers around on our way out to the reef. But I lost track of them almost as soon as I dove in.”

  Nancy nodded. She hadn’t paid any attention to the handful of other divers she had seen either. “Well, we’d better get back to the island,” Nancy said. “Do they keep a list of who takes out equipment at the scuba shack?”

  “No,” Martika said. “We’re on the honor system here once we’ve checked you out as a qualified diver. Whoever was handing out equipment today might remember who came by if he wasn’t too busy. But some guests prefer to use their own equipment, so he wouldn’t see everyone anyway.”

  The two of them swam for shore and handed in their gear. Nancy saw Derek running toward them from the dock. “There you are, Martika!” he shouted as he approached. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  “Well, now you’ve found me,” Martika said curtly.

  “Do you know what time it is?” Derek asked his sister. “It’s after eleven.”

  “So?” Martika asked. Nancy knew he wouldn’t know about Martika’s telling Nadine she’d see her at eleven.

  “Have you forgotten about Maura McDaniel’s make-over?” he asked her. “You were supposed to meet her at ten-thirty to supervise it.”

  “Maura McDaniel . . .” Martika repeated distractedly. “Oh, yes, our contest winner—the plain Jane from Australia. I’d totally forgotten about her.”

  “New Zealand,” Derek corrected her. “She’s from New Zealand, and she’s waiting for you at the beauty center.”

  “Oh, all right, I’ll go,” Martika said impatiently. “Tell her to wait a minute. I’ve got to go back to my suite and change first.” Turning to Nancy, she added, “Wait till you see this girl when I get through with her!” With a wicked smile and a wave of her hand, Martika started up the long flight of steps to the main building.

  “She’s amazing,” Nancy said out loud, watching as Martika climbed the steps. Not only had Martika recovered physically from her brush with death, but she also seemed to have shaken free from the shock. She’s a very resilient young woman, Nancy thought.

  “Amazing is the word, all right,” Derek agreed, getting into a golf cart. “Well, I’d better go tell Cinderella that her fairy godmother is on the way.”

  “Just a minute,” Nancy said. “How long were you looking for Martika just now?”

  “I don’t know,” Derek said, perplexed. “Half an hour or so. Why?”

  “Just wondering.” Nancy looked hard at him. He was dressed in a Hawaiian shirt, shorts, and beach thongs. It would have been possible for him to have cut Martika’s oxygen line and changed clothes someplace down here. “Did you see or speak to anyone while you were searching for Martika?”

  “Lots of people,” Derek countered.

  “And how long ago did you see Maura McDaniel?” Nancy pressed.

  “Fifteen minutes ago, I guess.” Derek acted annoyed now. “What’s this all about, anyway?” he demanded.

  “Oh, nothing,” Nancy said, brushing him off. “I’m just curious about a lot of things around here—like the Cloud Nine corporate checkbook.”

  Derek went white. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but whatever it is, you’d better stay out of other people’s business. Curiosity killed the cat, remember.”

  “I’ll remember that,” Nancy said with a little nod. “In case somebody around here winds up dead.”

  Derek stared at her. “Don’t think I’m not onto you, Nancy Drew.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

  “When I saw your name on Martika’s personal guest list it surprised me because I didn’t recognize it. So I did a little research, made a few calls, and found out what you do. You’re a detective.”

  Nancy nodded in acknowledgment. “That’s right,” she said. “I am. I thought Christina had told everyone by now. I guess the two of you don’t speak.”

  “No, we don’t, but now that I know, I think I know why she asked you here. It was to spy on me, wasn’t it? Sweet of her.” With that, he guided his cart back up the hill.

  Nancy gazed after him. She wondered whether she’d done the right thing by scaring him a little. If Derek were behind the murder attempts, her scaring him might be just what was needed to get him to stop. On the other hand, it might make him that much more dangerous.

  • • •

  Back at her suite, Nancy found an invitation on the coffee table, asking her and her friends to dine with Martika that night at a dinner for her special guests. Sounds like fun, Nancy thought as she pocketed the invitation to show Bess and George.

  Lunch was served on the patio again—an enormous buffet featuring seafood salads and tropical fruit. Bess was in line with George, trying to decide what to eat. “My calorie count says to stay below twelve hundred a day,” Bess complained, “but it’s impossible! I’d have to eat nothing but lettuce and kiwifruit!”

  “I can think of worse fates,” Nancy said. “How are your aching muscles?”

  “Much better,” Bess said. “I hit the whirlpool and the sauna, and then I had a Swedish massage you wouldn’t believe. After lunch I’m getting a seaweed wrap. If I can’t lose weight, at least I’m going to look fantastic.”

  Nancy showed Bess and George the invitation to Martika’s private dinner. “All right!” Bess said happily. “Are you going to sit with Kurt, George?”

  “I’ll sit wherever they put me,” George shot back. “Bess thinks I’m in love with Kurt.”

  “Are you?” Nancy asked.

  “Of course not,” George retorted. “Just because he said I have gorgeous eyes—”

  “When did he say that?” Nancy asked.

  “At tennis this morning. He came by while I was getting my lesson,” George replied.

  “To comment on your form,” Bess said, giggling.

  “He asked me to watch the fireworks with him tonight,” George said. “They’re going to shoot some off from the edge of the cliff.” Putting her plate down on the table, she added, “Hey, Nan, there’s a step class at two-thirty. Want to come?”

  Nancy peered across the patio to where Martika was standing with Nadine right behind her. Seeing Nancy, Martika waved and pointed to Nadine, as if to say, “See? I’m well protected.”

  “I guess so,” Nancy said. “Things seem pretty quiet—for the moment.”

  After lunch Bess went to the beauty center, and Nancy and George headed for class.

  At the workout center several different classes were going on at once. Nancy and George watched one called Abs, Tushes, and Thighs for a few minutes, then went into the locker room, where they changed into exercise clothes and stowed their bags.

  They entered the studio just as the instructor began fiddling with the tape player in front. The girls got their step units and prepared for the workout of their lives. Nancy had never tried stepping before, and she really like
d it. By the time a quarter hour had gone by, she was into the rhythm of it.

  When the class was over, she and George decided to spend what remained of the afternoon by the pool. They ordered sodas and lay in lounge chairs at the deep end, where one of the fitness staffers was wowing a small crowd with one fancy dive after another.

  It was near five when the girls began collecting their things. By the time they got back to their suite, Bess was there, getting ready for Martika’s special dinner.

  Soon the girls were dressed in the best outfits they’d brought. Nancy thought Bess was fabulous in a peach-colored dress that dipped off her shoulders and had a full skirt. She’d set it off with a single strand of freshwater pearls.

  George’s classic cream-colored silk tunic over a slender black crepe skirt was fantastic, too, especially when she twisted a black and gold braided belt around her waist.

  Nancy had chosen a sky blue dress with spaghetti straps. She’d pulled her burnished reddish blond hair into a high ponytail.

  Bess grabbed a silk flower from an arrangement in the bedroom and twisted it around the band that held Nancy’s hair. The effect was perfect.

  “Well, I think we look great!” George exclaimed. “Put us on the cover of Savoir Faire!”

  “And guess what, you guys,” Bess said excitedly, “I weighed myself again, and I lost another half a pound—without even working out! Isn’t that super?”

  “Super,” Nancy repeated, with a broad smile.

  The girls made their way downstairs to a glass-enclosed garden room at the far end of the building. The staff had set up tables there for the night. There were flowers at every place setting, and the silverware glistened in the soft light. In the far corner of the room was a large gold cage containing a brightly colored cockatoo.

  Most of the two dozen guests were already there. Nancy and the girls watched for Martika but didn’t see her.

  A maitre d’ entered and asked that all the guests be seated. Nancy took a quick inventory of those present: Kurt, Derek, Helen MacArthur, Mrs. Smythe, Morgana Ricci, Preston Winchell—the whole group from the yacht trip over except for Maura McDaniel. Christina Adams hadn’t been invited, of course.

 

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