010 Buried Secrets (2 page)

“You’re right,” Ned agreed. “The only way he’s going to get rid of our ‘ace reporter’ is to tell her he’ll reopen his father’s case. If he doesn’t, she’s going to keep buzzing him, like an annoying gnat. Anyway,” Ned went on, “I’ve had enough of politics for today. How about you? Are you ready to go?”

“Sure.” Nancy didn’t have any plans, really,
and she wanted to find out what Ned had in mind. Maybe she could invite him back for something to drink, and they could sit out on the porch and talk. Or maybe they wouldn’t go straight home at all. Maybe he’d drive her to the park next to the river, with those nice, secluded benches. They used to go there all the time. If they went there that day, who knew what might happen?

Slowly Nancy and Ned walked around the edge of the crowd until they were close to Todd Harrington’s platform. The young candidate was still trying to convince Brenda that his father’s “mysterious” death was not what he wanted to talk about, and he still wasn’t having any luck.

Nancy glanced out at the audience, hoping Bess and George were there so she could let them know she was leaving. That was when she saw it—somewhere in the middle of the crowd, something shiny, something glinting in the sun.

Nancy blinked, rubbed her eyes, and squinted to get a better look. The sun flashed on the object again, and then whoever was holding it took a step forward.

And in that instant Nancy knew exactly what it was. It was the barrel of a gun, and it was pointing straight at Todd Harrington.

I
N ONE MOTION
Nancy dropped her canvas bag and leaped in the air, flying up toward Todd Harrington like a released spring. She hit the young candidate from the side. And just as she felt his knees buckle, she heard the gun go off.

Locked together, Nancy and Todd rolled off the edge of the platform and landed with a thud on the hard cement of the parking lot.

“What’s going—” Todd started to say, but his voice was drowned out by the screams of the crowd.

“Sorry!” Nancy gasped. She scrambled to her feet and plunged into the crowd, heading for the
spot where she’d seen the gun. She knew that whoever had shot it wouldn’t stick around, but maybe she’d get lucky and see someone running fast, trying to get away.

Unfortunately,
everyone
was running. It took Nancy forever just to get to the edge of the panicked, screaming crowd. When she finally did, she looked around, desperate to see which way the sniper might have escaped.

The parking lot was a sea of cars—any one of them would have made an excellent hiding place. Beyond the lot was a bus stop, from which two full buses were just pulling away. Next to the main entrance of the mall was a parking garage, four levels high. And finally there was the mall itself, with at least a hundred stores. Whoever had shot at Todd Harrington could be browsing through any one of them right then.

“Nancy!” Ned called, running up to her. “I just saw a policeman heading toward the garage, and a couple of Harrington’s men ran into the mall. So let’s check out the parking lot!”

Quickly, at first, Nancy and Ned walked up and down the long rows, peering into and underneath cars. But by the time they’d covered ten rows, they weren’t moving very fast.

“I hate to say it,” Nancy admitted in frustration, “but this looks hopeless.”

Ned nodded. “If the police could seal off the parking lot, maybe we’d have a chance.”

“Maybe,” Nancy said. “But it’s a little late for that. Whoever fired that shot is probably on the other side of town by now.”

“I guess you’re right,” Ned said. “I wish I’d been paying more attention. But all I saw was you flying through the air.” He grinned. “You move pretty fast for somebody without wings.”

Nancy laughed. “Thanks. And thanks for helping me.”

“Anytime,” Ned told her, glancing at his watch. “Oh, no. I can’t believe it! I completely lost track of the time. I’ve got to leave now. Do you want to come with me or wait and catch a ride with George?”

Nancy hesitated. If she didn’t go with him, would he think she didn’t care? “I really ought to go back to the Harrington van,” she said. “The police will want a statement from me.”

“I’m not thinking straight, I guess. Of course you’ll be needed.”

“I’ll be home in a little while, I’m sure,” Nancy told him. She was hoping he’d suggest that they get together later that day.

But Ned was frowning at his watch. “I can’t believe I’ve got to get going just when everything’s gotten so exciting. I have to pick my mother up,
though. Her car’s getting fixed and she’s without wheels.” He shrugged and started off at a slow jog. Then he stopped and ran back to Nancy. “Can I call you later?” he asked quietly.

“Sure,” she said, smiling and looking down. All of a sudden she felt shy with him.

“You can tell me what happened here.”

“Sure,” Nancy said again, feeling strangely deflated.

By the time Nancy got back to the van, more policemen had arrived. The one who’d been there from the beginning waved Nancy over. She told them everything she’d seen, which wasn’t much.

“Did anyone in the crowd see anything?” she asked.

One of the policemen shook his head. “We’ve talked to four different people and we’ve gotten four different stories. One guy swears it was the woman standing next to him, except that he wasn’t anywhere near the spot where you saw the gun. Another guy says it was a little kid with a cap pistol.”

“Was it?” Nancy asked.

“Hah. Some cap pistol,” the policeman said. “It left a slug from a forty-five automatic in the side of that van.” He sighed and shook his head again. “And the other two witnesses just saw people running.”

“That’s no help,” Nancy remarked. “Everybody was running.”

“You said it,” he agreed. “Well, we’ll keep on it, check the gun registrations. Maybe something’ll turn up. Anyway, at least we don’t have a dead body on our hands, thanks to you.”

Nancy smiled and turned to Todd Harrington. Except for a tear in one knee of his pants, he looked fine. He didn’t look happy, though, and Nancy didn’t blame him. He’d just been shot at, and Brenda was still at his side, hounding him with more questions.

A man had just moved up to his other side. And as Nancy crossed in closer, she heard him say, “As assistant to the mayor of River Heights, I want to assure you, Mr. Harrington, that the mayor’s office will do everything it can to help find the person who shot at you.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” Todd Harrington said, wrapping a handkerchief around his scraped hand.

“Mayor Abbott is outraged,” the assistant went on, “that such a thing could happen in his peaceful town, and—”

“But
why
do you suppose it happened?” Brenda broke in. “Mr. Harrington, could it possibly have anything to do with the death of your father?”

“I’m sure it doesn’t,” Harrington said. He glanced around, obviously hoping that someone would rescue him from Brenda. When he saw Nancy, his eyes lit up. “Excuse me,” he said, stepping away from the other two.

When Todd Harrington reached Nancy, he stopped and held out his hand. “I have to admit that when you first leaped on me, I was ready to have you arrested,” he said with a smile. “But now all I want to do is thank you. You can knock me off a platform anytime.”

Laughing, Nancy shook his hand. “Thanks,” she said. “Let’s hope I never have to do it again.”

“Well, well,” Brenda said, walking over to them. “If it isn’t Nancy Drew, the heroine of the day.”

“Nancy Drew?” Todd asked. “Is that your name?”

Nancy nodded.

“Good,” he said. “Now all I need is your address. I’d like to send you a little something.”

Nancy started to say he didn’t need to, but Brenda broke in again. “Oh, you don’t need an address, Mr. Harrington!” she said sarcastically. “Just write ‘Nancy Drew, U.S.A.’ I mean, everyone knows who Nancy Drew is.”

“Everyone but me, I’m afraid,” Todd admitted.

“Are you serious?” Brenda gave Nancy a sly
wink. “Why, Mr. Harrington, Nancy Drew is River Heights’s famous girl detective. Isn’t that right, Nancy?”

Nancy bit her lip to keep from saying something nasty, but Todd Harrington seemed impressed. “A detective?” he said.

“Amateur,” Brenda pointed out quickly.

“No kidding!” Todd went on, ignoring Brenda. “Well, who knows? Maybe you’ll help find whoever took a shot at me.”

“I’ll try,” Nancy said with a laugh. “I can’t resist a good mystery.”

“I think you should let the police handle it,” Brenda told her. “But if you want to solve a mystery, there’s an even better one to work on—the strange death of John Harrington.”

“Miss Carlton, I hate to be rude, but I wish you’d drop that subject,” Todd Harrington said. “If there was anything strange about my father’s death, I’m sure the police would have found it. It’s past. It’s over. Now, please leave it alone!” With a nod to Nancy, he walked off toward the van.

“Honestly, Brenda,” Nancy said. “Why don’t you just drop it? You’ve gotten a wonderful story today.”

“Because it’s so interesting,” Brenda retorted. “I mean, look at the facts. The body of John Harrington was found at the bottom of the cliffs
outside his family mansion. There was no suicide note. The man was just about to be elected governor of the state. He was also just about to become a father—Todd’s father. You don’t kill yourself when you’re on top of the world.”

“Maybe it was an accident,” Nancy said. “Maybe he slipped and fell.”

“You don’t slip and fall out of a tower window,” Brenda said.

“The tower window?” Nancy asked, picturing Harrington House in her mind. “That’s where he fell from?”

“According to all the experts.” Brenda looked infuriatingly smug. “What do you have to say about that, Detective Drew?”

“Well, I’m not sure,” Nancy said honestly. “But don’t you have a story to file, Brenda? You just witnessed an assassination attempt. What are you doing talking to me?”

Brenda looked startled. “Oh, you think you know everything, don’t you?” she asked. But she was already cramming her notebook and tape recorder into her bag.

“See you soon,” said Nancy, strolling away.

Once she was alone, she began to think about what Brenda had told her. If John Harrington had fallen from a tower window, the case was entirely different because you don’t slip and fall from a
window like that. You either jump—or you’re pushed.

And now to find Bess and George. She was going to need that ride home after all.

• • •

Nancy went to bed thinking about John Harrington’s death. But when she woke up, she was thinking about Ned. Why hadn’t he called? Of course, all he’d said was “Can I call you later?” but Nancy couldn’t help thinking he’d have called her that night. His break from college wasn’t going to last forever.

But maybe, she worried, he didn’t really want to work things out. Maybe he still thought her detective work would come between them. Nancy hoped not—because there was no way she was going to stop.

Nancy kicked back the covers in frustration and got out of bed. Still in her yellow thigh-length T-shirt, she did a few sit-ups, brushed her teeth, and went downstairs and into the kitchen.

Hannah Gruen, the housekeeper who’d been with the Drews since Nancy was three, was already there, unloading the dishwasher. When she saw Nancy, she smiled. “Good morning. You’re up early.”

“I know,” Nancy said with a yawn. “I tried to sleep longer, but the sun was too bright.” Still
yawning, she poured herself a glass of orange juice and sat down at the kitchen table. But when she had unrolled the newspaper and seen the front page, she stopped yawning.

“Hometown Detective Saves Life of Harrington,” ran the headline. Above that was a photo of Nancy and Todd Harrington shaking hands, and the story below it, with Brenda Carlton’s byline, covered almost half the front page.

Nancy grinned. Brenda must have really hated having to mention me at all, she thought. She sipped some more juice and started to read the story, but the phone rang before she got very far. Hannah picked it up.

“It’s Bess,” Hannah said. “She’s all excited about something—maybe she won the lottery.”

“Nan!” Bess shrieked after Nancy had taken the phone. “Why didn’t you tell us you’d saved his life? You didn’t mention one word in the car about what you’d done. I suppose you had a reason to be quiet. But now you’ve got to tell me all the important stuff. Like, what’s he like? Is he as gorgeous up close as he looks from far away?”

“He sure is,” Nancy said, laughing. “Todd Harrington is definitely a hunk.”

“And to think”—Bess sighed—“you got to shake hands with him. Maybe you can introduce me to him.”

“I’ll probably never see him again, Bess.”

“Sure you will,” Bess said. “You saved his life, so he owes you. And when he asks how he can repay you, just tell him you have this friend who’s dying to meet him! Oh, by the way,” she went on, “what are you going to do about Brenda? Are you going to accept?”

“Accept what? What are you talking about?”

“You mean you haven’t read it? Nancy, just turn to the editorial page. Brenda’s done it again!”

After Nancy had hung up, she flipped through the newspaper until she came to the editorial page. There was a column called “In This Reporter’s Opinion.” That day, “This Reporter” was Brenda Carlton.