Choosing Sides (4 page)

“Sorry,” Patrick Gleason told Nancy, but his expression was more relieved than apologetic. He opened the door again and gestured the way out. “We'll talk again, I'm sure.”

“Just let me—” Nancy began, but Gleason was already on the phone.

Sighing, she stepped out of his office. As she was heading over to Ned, a voice behind Nancy caught her ear. “Hill should drop out now. She'll never live this down!”

Glancing over her shoulder, Nancy saw that a big, beefy guy was talking to two other young men. She was angry, but she didn't say anything. She didn't want to draw attention to the fact that she was a Caroline Hill supporter.

Nancy was a few feet from Ned when he hung up his phone and noticed her. “Nancy!” He grinned, stood up, and kissed her over the desk. “What are you doing here?”

“Hi, Ned,” Nancy replied. He looked so cute that she felt her irritation fade immediately. “Can we talk somewhere?”

Ned nodded and led her to an empty table. “I saw that story about Caroline's fencing ring in the paper,” he said quietly. “It isn't true, is it?”

“No, it's not,” Nancy replied, “I'm glad you haven't assumed that it is, the way other people around here apparently have.” She glanced over her shoulder at the three men she had overheard.

“Oh, those guys.” Ned dismissed the group with a wave of his hand. “They have a bad attitude. They're working for Gleason just because they don't want a woman to be mayor.”

“They sound like total jerks,” Nancy muttered. Turning her mind back to the case, she told Ned about the events of the morning, including the phone numbers she'd spotted on the back of Brenda's copy of the picture.

“When I dialed the second number, someone from
this
office answered the phone,” Nancy finished.

“From here? But who would that be?”

“What about Gleason? Do you think he could be involved at all?” Nancy asked.

Ned's eyebrows shot up. “Gleason? No way!” he said emphatically. “I mean, I guess it makes
sense to suspect him, but he just wouldn't do something like that, I'm sure of it.”

“It could be someone who works here,” Nancy said. She wanted to believe her boyfriend, but she couldn't be sure he was right until she found out who
was
responsible. “Just promise me you'll keep your eyes and ears open, okay?”

After a slight hesitation, Ned said, “I can't say I like the idea of spying on my boss, but if that's the only way to prove he's innocent . . .”

“Thanks, Ned,” Nancy said, standing up. “I've got to run now.”

As Ned was walking her to the door, a thin man in his forties, with wispy red hair and wire-rimmed glasses, came in. Once he had walked past Nancy and Ned, Ned leaned close to Nancy. “Do you recognize that guy?” he whispered.

Nancy took a second look at the man, then shook her head.

“That's Steve Hill, Caroline Hill's ex-husband. Today is his first day as a volunteer. He's actually using his vacation time to work here.” Ned chuckled. “I heard that he's working for Gleason because he doesn't want his ex-wife to be his new boss. He's a tax accountant for the city.”

“No kidding!” Nancy looked at Steve Hill with fresh interest. “If he doesn't like her that much, maybe
he's
the one who gave the photo to Brenda.”

“But why would he implicate Gleason by giving Brenda this number?” Ned pointed out.

“I don't know.” Nancy sighed. “It's just an idea. But if you wouldn't mind . . .”

“I know, I know,” Ned said, holding up a hand. “I'll keep an eye on him. Now get out of here before you have me tapping all the phones!”

• • •

“When I got a job with your father, I didn't realize I'd end up hot on the trail of criminals with you, Nancy,” Kyle Donovan said from the backseat of Nancy's car an hour later.

Bess turned to grin at him from the front seat. “It's a required part of being friends with Nancy,” she said. “Don't worry, you'll get used to it.”

Bess and Kyle had been folding leaflets when Nancy returned to Caroline's campaign office. After filling in her friends and Caroline on all that had happened, the three decided to track down Bobby Rouse.

Caroline had checked out her files on Rouse. There was no current address, but the files mentioned a diner where Bobby Rouse had been known to spend a lot of time. Nancy had called Chief McGinnis, and he had confirmed that it was one of Rouse's regular hangouts. If he came up with any more information on him, the police chief promised to call Nancy with it at Caroline's headquarters.

“Here we are,” Nancy announced, pulling up
across the street from a small, dingy diner on the outskirts of River Heights. “Slim and Shorty's Good Eats Café,” Nancy said, reading the sign over the door.

She did a double-take as two men stepped out of the café. One was tall and lanky. Nancy recognized the other, shorter man immediately from Caroline's files on Bobby Rouse.

“Hey, that's him!” she said to Bess and Kyle. “The shorter guy. You two wait here while I try to talk to Rouse, okay?”

“Okay,” Bess said, “but be careful.”

Nancy was already halfway out of the car. As she crossed the street, she heard Rouse say, “See ya, Ralph” to the taller guy. Then he got into a sleek new black sports car, while his friend got into a brown sedan.

Nancy hurried over to the sports car. “Hi,” she said in her best, harmless teenager voice, resting a hand on his open window. “I was wondering if I could ask you a question?”

Rouse looked up at her in alarm. “I've had it with you people!” he growled. “I'm warning you, stay away from me!” With that, he turned on the ignition and revved the motor.

“I know about the doctored photograph of Caroline Hill, and I think you were set up, Bobby!” Nancy yelled over the noise, saying anything that might make him want to talk to her. “I want to find out who did it. And why!”

Bobby Rouse ignored her. He threw the sports
car into gear, and Nancy stumbled backward as he peeled away, leaving the stench of burning rubber in his wake.

“Rats!” Nancy kicked at the pavement, then ran back to her Mustang and jumped behind the wheel.

“He wouldn't listen,” Nancy said as she started the car. She made a U-turn, then headed after the black car. “We've got to move fast, or we'll lose him.”

Rouse was driving back toward town. Nancy followed as quickly as she dared.

“Hold on, guys!” she called to Bess and Kyle as she followed the black sports car around a sharp right turn. The Mustang toppled a garbage can as they spun around into an alley. Up ahead, Rouse's car was fishtailing out of the alley. Nancy's heart pounded as she raced after him, rounded a corner, and headed down a deserted brick paved street. She floored the gas pedal.

Just as Nancy was beginning to wonder where Rouse was leading her, he turned into a construction site.

“Where is he taking us?” Kyle asked through clenched teeth as the Mustang whipped past huge piles of sand, cinder blocks, and metal beams. An idle bulldozer and a crane sat off to one side of a gaping hole that seemed to take up an entire block. It was ringed with a flimsy wooden fence.

Just then Rouse's sports car nicked one edge of a stack of bricks that were covered with a black
plastic tarp. The impact sent the tarp flying into the air. It landed on the Mustang's windshield!

“I can't see a thing!” Nancy cried. Panicked, she took her foot off the gas and pumped the brakes. She frantically lowered her window, reached out, and pulled the tarp off.

“Nancy, look out!” Bess screamed.

Nancy gasped. They were headed straight for the cavernous construction hole!

She slammed harder on her brakes. Her tires dug into the powdery dirt, but it was too late. The Mustang crashed through the fence and spun around in a half circle. Terrified, she felt the back of her car slip over the edge of the hole.

In a second, the car was going to plunge into the abyss!

N
ANCY FELT
her stomach lurch as the Mustang teetered dangerously at the edge of the construction pit. She hardly dared to breathe. The right rear tire had already slipped over the edge. Even though the car had stopped, she knew it could still slip backward.

“Nancy, that hole must be forty feet deep!” Bess said in a horrified whisper. “What are we going to do?” She gasped as the ground beneath the rear left wheel crumbled and the car shuddered and tipped downward a little more. “Oh, no! We're falling in!”

“Hold still, Bess, you're rocking the car!” Kyle said from the backseat. Looking at him in the rearview mirror, Nancy saw that his face was tight with fear.

Nancy took a deep breath. “I'm going to try to
pull us up and out of here by moving forward very gently. Don't move at all, or we might slide backward.”

Next to Nancy, Bess closed her eyes tightly. “Tell me when it's over,” she whispered.

Trying not to think about how deep the pit was, Nancy took her foot off the brake and pressed it ever so lightly on the gas pedal. Her heart jumped as the left rear wheel slipped again. Then to her amazement, the Mustang pulled slowly forward, away from the pit.

A moment later Nancy felt the rear tires take hold on solid ground. She exhaled the breath she'd been holding and felt a cold sweat break out on her forehead. With the car a safe distance from the pit, she killed the engine and slumped back against the seat.

“Nancy, you did it!” Kyle said in a shaky voice. “Boy, for a minute there, I really thought we were history.”

“Can we just get out of here?” Bess asked, opening her eyes.

Nancy looked in the direction Bobby Rouse had disappeared. “We might as well,” she said. “I don't think we'll find Rouse now.”

Kyle leaned forward and brushed a lock of hair off Bess's face. “Hey, are you okay?”

“I think so,” Bess replied with a weak smile.

Twenty minutes later, the teens were back at Caroline Hill's busy headquarters.

“Chief McGinnis on the line for Nancy
Drew!” a dark-haired woman called out, holding up a phone.

Nancy hurried over and took the receiver from her. “Hi, Chief, what's up?”

“Nancy, we just stopped Bobby Rouse for speeding,” the police chief told Nancy. “He was driving a stolen car. I just wanted to let you know he's in custody. If we turn up anything regarding Caroline Hill, I'll let you know.”

Nancy told him about the hair-raising chase.

“We picked him up right near that construction site,” the chief told her. “He was probably speeding in order to get away from you.”

“I don't suppose I could get a look at the police report once your officers have questioned Rouse,” Nancy said.

“It's against policy,” Chief McGinnis said. There was a short pause, then he added, “But you've helped out the River Heights PD more than a few times in the past. Why don't you come down later, and I'll see what I can do.”

After thanking the police chief, Nancy hung up. She relayed Chief McGinnis's news to Bess and Kyle, then said, “Come on. We'd better fill Caroline in on this.”

When the three walked into Caroline's office, they found her pacing next to her desk as she talked on the phone.

“Mr. Davison,” Caroline said patiently, “I know the photo looks real, but I assure you, the story is a lie. I would really hate to lose your
support based on such a slanderous article. . . . Yes, I'm doing all I can to find out who did it. . . . Great! Thank you for having confidence in me.”

A moment later, Caroline hung up. “Hi. Did you find Bobby Rouse?”

“Well, yes and no,” Bess replied. She, Nancy, and Kyle told Caroline about the car chase and the news of Bobby Rouse's arrest. “Chief McGinnis said he'd let us know if they learn anything about the fencing ring story,” Nancy finished.

Caroline sighed and sat down at her desk. “I hope we get something concrete soon—before I start losing support.”

“I know,” Nancy said. “There's one other thing. Are you aware that Steve Hill is working for Gleason?”

“You mean my ex-husband?” Caroline asked in surprise.

Nancy nodded. “Ned heard that he was working for Gleason because he doesn't want his ex-wife for a boss.”

“That sounds like Steve,” Caroline said. “We were both in law school when we got married. Steve was going to be a tax attorney, but he dropped out and became an accountant. He's a really good one, too, but he was always jealous of me and my law career. It's what drove us apart after eight years of marriage—we've been divorced for two years now.”

“Do you think he's vindictive enough to make up that fencing story and leak it to the press?” Bess asked.

Caroline shrugged. “He's bitter, but Steve is just a number cruncher. I can't picture him going to the trouble of staging such an elaborate hoax.”