037 Last Dance (10 page)

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Authors: Carolyn Keene

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BOOK: 037 Last Dance
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Jon sighed. “I haven’t seen Sheila—or heard from her—in over two years. Just leave me alone, will you?” With that, Jon put his arm around Laurie again and hurried off.

Nancy watched them walk away. She knew Jon was lying about not being in touch with Sheila. The last of her letters had been dated only a
couple of months earlier. What was he covering up?

“Let’s go,” Ned said softly, interrupting her thoughts. “It’s late.”

Nancy nodded and said, “Goodbye, Brenda. And thanks for the help.”

Brenda was steaming, but Nancy only smiled at her and then walked beside Ned to her car, Bess and George trailing behind them.

“Maybe I’d better drive,” George suggested.

Suddenly Nancy was very tired. “That sounds good to me,” she said.

Ned gave her a light kiss on the forehead. “Your adventures are going to be the death of me, Drew,” he said with a sigh.

Nancy smiled wearily. “You seem to be holding up pretty well,” she reasoned.

Ned laughed. “Good night, Nan,” he said. “I’ll call you in the morning. Drive carefully,” he added to George. “Precious cargo.”

Bess climbed into the back of Nancy’s Mustang, while George took the wheel and Nancy claimed the passenger’s seat.

“I thought you were a goner this time,” Bess said seriously.

Nancy nodded. “For a while there I thought so, too,” she agreed. “Especially when Laurie and I were trapped in that cellar, with the fire getting closer and closer.”

“That must have been terrifying,” George agreed.

Nancy settled deeper into the seat with a heavy sigh. “And now there are more questions than ever,” she muttered. Who tried to kill Laurie? Who started the fire? Would Jon Villiers really have destroyed his own club, whatever the reason? What was he trying to hide? Was Sheila Day alive, or had he murdered her? After all, Nancy had heard Pam call Jon a convicted criminal. Maybe she knew something the rest of them didn’t. Why did he lie earlier, saying he hadn’t seen or heard from Sheila in two years?

And then Nancy remembered Laurie, helpless in that cellar. Whoever attacked Laurie had failed—which only meant that he would probably try again.

Chapter

Twelve

T
HE NEXT DAY
was bright and sunny, but Nancy woke up in anything but a sunny mood. The case had definitely taken a deadly turn.

She thought about what to do while she showered, dressed, and ate a quick breakfast. Then she was on her way to pick up George. Ned was working for the day and had called to tell Nancy to be careful.

Once George was in the car, Nancy asked for her advice. “Do you suppose Jon will admit, anything if I confront him?”

George thought for a moment, then shook her head. “Probably not.”

“Well, I’m out of ideas,” Nancy said.

“If it’s your last hope, give it a shot.”

Nancy smiled and turned her car in the direction of the club. There were several official cars in the club’s parking lot, along with half a dozen ordinary ones. “Looks like we’re not the only ones here to investigate,” Nancy said, flipping the engine off and removing the ignition key. From the outside, Moves didn’t look too bad. She wondered how extensive the damage was inside.

“I know you, Nan. You were awake half the night trying to figure this out, weren’t you?” George asked, looking at the charred building as she spoke.

Nancy nodded. She was feeling sad to think how her conclusions would affect Laurie. “I’m beginning to think Jon set that fire himself,” she said, without moving from behind the wheel. “Remember that half-finished letter to his uncle I found in his apartment the other night? And then there was the conversation I overheard outside Jon’s office. He needs money fast, and the insurance on Moves might be enough to cover his debt.”

“What are you going to do?” George wanted to know. “After all, you can’t just walk up to Jon and ask if he’s committed arson lately.”

Nancy smiled sadly at that. “You’re right. But I’m hoping to get him to explain a few other things—like what happened to Sheila Day. He
was being evasive last night, George. Sheik wrote to him just two months ago.”

George nodded, saying nothing.

“Sheila expected to marry Jon,” Nancy said, thinking aloud. “Although her last letter was a little desperate—it sounded as though Jon had asked her to back off for a while—all the dreams and hopes were still there. She even talked about what color the bridesmaids’ dresses would be.”

George sat up straight in her seat. “Look who’s here,” she said dryly.

Nancy followed her gaze and saw Brenda Carlton strolling confidently across the parking lot. She was carrying an expensive tape recorder with a microphone. “We’d better hurry,” Nancy said, quickly unfastening her seat belt and getting out of the car.

She and George went into Moves by the side entrance. There was charred wood everywhere, but the floor and walls looked relatively .solid. The smell of water and burned wood was almost repugnant.

Nancy asked George to distract Brenda for a few minutes while she found Jon and asked him some questions. George agreed, and the two girls went in separate directions.

There were insurance investigators and representatives from the fire department all around. Nancy threaded her way through them until she found Jon.

“This club meant everything to me,” Jon was telling a man in a suit. “What reason would I have to destroy it?”

Nancy could think of one reason—to repay the guys he’d borrowed money from—but she didn’t say anything. She didn’t want Jon to realize how much she knew.

The other man looked at Jon closely. “I’ll talk to you again later,” he said, and the words carried a warning. “Don’t go away.”

Nancy stood facing Jon, her hands clasped behind her back. “Have they found out what caused the fire?” she asked.

Jon looked exasperated. “No. But I think they think I set it myself.”

Nancy tried not to let her own suspicion show. “What would give them that idea?”

Jon sighed heavily. “There’s a lot of money involved,” he confessed.

Nancy wanted to pursue that point, but she had to do it carefully. Jon had to trust her, maybe even feel as though he could confide in her. “Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked.

Jon gave her such a grateful smile that she felt a little guilty. “Actually, there is. I’ve got to pick up some stuff from my apartment. I wouldn’t ask you to go for me again, but would you mind just hanging around, keeping an eye on the club while I’m gone?”

Nancy nodded. “No problem.” What a golden opportunity to search!

As soon as Jon left, Nancy made her way toward his office. The door was open, so Nancy stepped inside, closing it quietly behind her. The smell of smoke hovered in the air here—but amazingly there was no real harm done to the room itself.

Nancy searched the closet first, finding nothing except an old jacket and a lot of dust. From there, she went to the file cabinet and pulled open the top drawer. One by one, she flipped through every folder but found nothing. She moved on to the next drawer and then the next, with no luck. She almost didn’t search the desk, since she’d been through it before, but in the end, her natural curiosity won out. She was so busy that she didn’t hear the door open.

“Looking for something?”

Startled, Nancy raised her eyes to see Laurie standing in the doorway, glaring at her. Nancy closed the desk drawer calmly, but her heart was still pounding from the surprise of being caught. She didn’t answer Laurie’s question, since she wasn’t about to lie.

Laurie folded her arms. “It would serve you right if I told Jon the truth—you only took this job so you could spy on him.”

Nancy sat on the edge of Jon’s desk. “Last
night somebody tried to kill you,” she reminded her friend. “It’s even, possible that the same person came back and shut the cellar door on us, knowing it wouldn’t open again. Don’t you want to find out what’s happening here?”

Laurie bit her lip and closed the door, so that she and Nancy could talk in relative privacy. “Of course I do,” she said in an impatient whisper.

“Think back to just before you were hit,” Nancy urged. “You must have seen or heard something—or maybe you smelled perfume or cologne—”

But Laurie shook her head resolutely. “There was nothing. I remember being hit and vaguely remember being dragged into the cellar storeroom—whoever did it was strong—but that’s all there is.” She paused, her eyes round. “I’m scared, Nancy. I’m really scared. There was the noose, and someone tried to drown you at the lake, and now this.”

Nancy nodded. “It’s serious. Whoever’s behind this really means business.”

“And you think it’s Jon, don’t you?” Laurie asked sadly.

Nancy hesitated for a moment. She had no real proof that Jon was guilty of anything. She wasn’t going to make an accusation without evidence. “I don’t know for sure,” she answered. “But things don’t look good for Jon. He owes someone a lot
of money, Laurie. He’s had threats. An insurance check for a burned-out dance club could come in pretty handy right now.”

Laurie’s soft bangs fluttered against her forehead as she let out her breath. She spread her hands. “What did you hope to And in here, Nancy?” she asked. “A kerosene-soaked rag? A stack of kindling?”

Nancy understood what her friend was feeling. Laurie loved Jon, and she was worried about him—with good reason. “I wasn’t looking for anything in particular,” Nancy answered carefully. “Sometimes I don’t know what I’m trying to find until it turns up.”

“And what have you turned up so far?” Laurie pressed.

Before Nancy could dodge that question, the door opened and Jon came in. Once again, Nancy held her breath, expecting Laurie to tell Jon that she’d caught her going through his desk.

“Hi,” Laurie-said, standing close to Jon and putting her arms around him. “You’re having a rough day, aren’t you?”

Nancy let out her breath in a sigh.

Jon looked exhausted. “This whole thing is a nightmare.” He went around behind the desk and sat down heavily. “The inspector says the ire was set deliberately.”

“How?” she asked.

Jon shrugged, rubbing his red eyes with a thumb and forefinger. “They think I did it for the insurance money.”

Laurie went to stand behind Jon, rubbing his shoulders. “I know you haven’t done anything wrong,” she said. Though the words were directed at Jon, Laurie was looking directly at Nancy as she spoke.

“I’ll see you later,” Nancy said, moving toward the door.

“Thanks for keeping an eye on the place,” Jon called after her.

Nancy felt a twinge of guilt as she hurried away. After all, Jon. had trusted her, and she’d searched through his personal things.

She found George in the kitchen, which had been badly destroyed, following Brenda Carlton around. Brenda did not look pleased to have the company, but when she saw Nancy, her face lit up.

“I think I know more about this case than you do,” she boasted, turning away from the fire inspector she’d been interviewing. “But then, I proved that last night, didn’t I?”

Nancy said nothing. She knew Brenda would let information slip if she just kept cool and silent.

“It just so happens that I’ve found out even more about Jon Villiers,” Brenda went on, trying
to arouse Nancy’s curiosity. She paused, watching Nancy out of the corner of her eye for a reaction.

Nancy managed to look bored. “I don’t have time for this,” she said, turning and starting to walk away.

The bluff worked. “Jon has an uncle who’s done time for burglary,” Brenda blurted out. “And he’s in bad financial trouble, too.”

Nancy turned to face Brenda, waiting.

“Maybe,” Brenda rushed on, “Jon burned this place himself. Maybe he wanted the money so he could get out of trouble. And maybe he’s about to run off with that pretty little waitress I’ve seen him chasing after.”

A small sound and a movement in the doorway made Nancy, Brenda, and George turn. There in the doorway stood Laurie, her eyes round disks. She had heard it all.

Chapter

Thirteen

L
AURIE OBVIOUSLY HEARD EVERYTHING
Brenda had said. Apparently she was drawing some painful inclusions. Nancy could see Laurie’s mind working—maybe Jon had set the fire. Maybe he was even capable of knocking her out and leaving her to die, she was thinking. But why? What could he hope to gain by it?

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