Authors: Carolyn Keene
Gina came up behind Ned. Sally, still looking worn out, tagged along behind her. “Has everybody seen my story, Ned dear?” Gina asked.
“I'm handing them out right now, Gina,” he said. With a wink at Nancy and her friends, he stepped away to hand newspapers to students at the nearest table.
“Congratulations, Gina,” Nancy said.
Gina shrugged and threw Nancy a dazzling smile. “Thanks. Quite a scoop, wasn't it?” she said, bragging. “They held the presses until I was finished writing, at three
A.M.
I ought to be exhausted, but I'm too excited to notice. And guess what?”
“What?” Nancy asked.
“The editor thought I did such a great job, he's offered me an internship on the paper next summer,” Gina said. “So I guess you will all be seeing me next year. Isn't that great?”
Nancy could feel Bess poke her in the back. “Uh, yeah, great, Gina,” Nancy stammered.
“I convinced the editor to give Sally an internship, too,” Gina added, slipping an arm through her friend's elbow. “After all, it was her fantastic pictures that caught Sharpless in the act.”
Sally smiled shyly. “It'll be fun to work on a daily paper,” she said. “I'd much rather take pictures than be in the headlines myself.”
Just then Jane Sellery walked by, a newspaper in her hand. “See my story on the front page, Jane?” Gina asked pointedly.
“Yeah,” Jane said with a sneer. “Did you ask your father to buy a new printing plant for the
Record?”
Jane flounced away, and Gina, scowling, trotted after herâto carry on their feud, Nancy thought.
Gary Ruxton walked up and joined the group. “Sally, I'm glad to see you back with us,” he said. “You gave us quite a scare last night.”
Sally rolled her eyes. “I certainly didn't mean to,” she joked.
Mr. Ruxton smiled. “Well, I hope winning the photo contest helped to make up for your trouble. Congratulations. You deserved the prize.”
“Thank you,” Sally said, blushing modestly.
Mr. Ruxton turned to Nancy. “Any word on what Karabell and Sharpless will be charged with?”
“I chatted with the police after I gave them my statement last night,” Nancy said. “They say Karabell will be charged with blackmail, but he may not ever be convicted. He claims he never asked Sharpless for hush moneyâSharpless just offered it. Even though Karabell did take the money, he wasn't really extorting it.”
“What about Sharpless?” Bess asked.
“Abduction, for one thing,” Nancy began, counting off the charges on her fingers. “That's the most serious. Then unlawful entry, turning in a false fire alarm, two counts of arson, and three counts of reckless endangermentâfor pushing the luggage trolley, for putting the dead rat on Gina's pasta, and for giving the oleander skewers to the chef. And one charge of unlawful possession of a firearm.”
“That's a lot of charges,” Mr. Ruxton commented.
“He's confessed to everything, by the way,” Nancy added. “The police officers I talked to assume he'll plead not guilty by reason of insanity. He might get off scot-free.”
“That doesn't seem fair,” Bess said.
Gary Ruxton tipped his head thoughtfully. “Whatever happens, Bess, his career is finished,” he pointed out. “In a way, that's the harshest punishment of all for him.”
Looking starry-eyed, Bess leaned toward the journalism teacher. “You have such insights into what makes a newsman tick,” she said in a gushy voice.
Mr. Ruxton seemed baffled by her comment. “It's pretty basic human nature,” he said. “Oh, by the way, Bess, I have a message for you, from one of the bellmen in the lobby. He asked me to tell you he'll be waiting to carry your bags when you check out this morning. I think he said his name was Ralph.”
Bess's face crumpled. “Ralph?” she croaked.
“I think that was his name,” Mr. Ruxton said. “He seems like a nice guy. Well, so long, girls, and thanks again for your help.” With a friendly wave, he left.
“He probably thinks I'm
dating
Ralph,” Bess said, and moaned. “The awful thing is, Ralph thinks so, too, just because I had a soda with him in the coffee shop the other day.”
“You did?” George asked, incredulous.
“Well, I felt sorry for him!” Bess said, defending herself. “And besides, he's not
that
bad.”
“Who's not that bad?” Paul Lampedusa asked, passing by with a coffee pot in his hand.
“Lampedusa, no socializing with the hotel guests,” George said, a mischievous twinkle in her dark eyes. “Today I'm a hotel guest.”
“I can't believe you were working undercover all that time,” Paul declared. “You had me fooled.”
“Oh, right, I was such a superb lifeguard, you really thought I was a pro,” George said with a chuckle.
“We'll take this up later.” Paul gave her a meaningful glance. He scooted over to a nearby table and got back to work.
Just then Bess glanced past Nancy to the door of the ballroom. “Look, there's Nick Kessler,” she said, “still hanging around.”
As the girls turned, they saw Gina wave and run over to her old bodyguard. “Oh, yeah,” Sally said. “I forgot to tell youâGina hired Nick back. When she found out that he'd stayed at the hotel for three days, still worried about her, she completely changed her mind about him. But she hasn't let Ned go yet. I don't think she's worked up the nerve.”
Looking across the banquet room, Nancy caught Ned's eye. He paused, a newspaper in his hand, and their gazes locked for a long, steady moment.
Nancy felt that old warm, tingly feeling flood through her. She turned back to Sally and said, “Somehow I don't think Ned will be too upset.”
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Simon Pulse
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Copyright © 1995 by Simon & Schuster, Inc.
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