Poison Pen (5 page)

“Hey, Nancy, wake up,” George scolded. “The concert's over.”

“Huh?” Nancy said, blinking. “That was kind of short, wasn't it?”

“They played for over an hour,” George informed her, giving her a quizzical look. “They even did that great long version of ‘Frozen Out.' Weren't you listening?”

“I guess I was a little bit out of it,” Nancy admitted sheepishly.

“Uh-oh,” said Bess, leaning around David's shoulder. “I smell a mystery.”

Nancy wasn't sure there
was
a mystery, but she wanted to find out if there was before anyone got hurt.

As they were walking back toward the parking lot, Nancy kept an eye out for Rick. They
were almost back to Ned's car when she finally spotted him. He was standing a few yards away, by a parked van—and he was talking to Brenda.

Nancy paused to take in the scene. Rick was leaning forward, an intent expression on his face as he spoke. Brenda, her back against the van, was gazing up into his eyes with an intimate smile. As Nancy watched, Brenda placed her hand on Rick's arm.

That's funny, Nancy thought, her eyes narrowing. Rick had led her to think he'd never met Brenda—but that hardly looked like a conversation between two people who didn't know each other.

Nancy knew Brenda well enough to suspect the reporter would stretch the truth if it suited her. She didn't know anything at all about Rick, but she was beginning to get the feeling he hadn't been totally honest with her, either. In any case, Nancy was increasingly sure of one thing—both Rick and Brenda had something to hide.

N
ANCY FROWNED
at the couple. She had to find out once and for all if there really was a murder plot in the planning stage, or if Brenda and Rick were somehow in cahoots and making the whole thing up. She didn't know why Rick would get involved, but there was only one way to find out.

Twining her arm around Ned's waist, Nancy nodded in Rick and Brenda's direction and asked, “Why don't we walk over this way, Ned? I want to check something out.”

Ned gave her a puzzled glance but agreed.

After saying good night to the others, Nancy and Ned strolled over to where Rick and Brenda were. Nancy leaned her head on Ned's shoulder, her eyes half-closed, a dreamy smile on her face. But her ears were wide open,
straining to catch Brenda and Rick's low-pitched conversation.

“I wish I could, but I can't give you a ride,” Brenda was saying. “Daddy is sending his driver to pick me up, and the guy is under orders to take me straight home. Daddy's worried about me, after what happened at the mall today.”

Rick's reply was too quiet for Nancy to hear, but apparently it pleased Brenda. She giggled. “That's so sweet of you,” she cooed.

“Uh-oh,” Ned whispered. “Rick really seems to be fooled by Brenda's sweet act.”

“Shh!” Nancy whispered back, stifling a laugh. “You're ruining my concentration.”

Just then a long, sleek silver car pulled up beside Brenda.

“Here's my ride,” Brenda said to Rick. Her voice sounded genuinely regretful, Nancy thought. “I guess I'd better say good night.”

“Okay.” Rick sounded hesitant. “Would you have lunch with me tomorrow?” he asked at last. “That is, if you're up to it.”

Nancy sneaked a look at Brenda from under her lashes. Brenda's dark eyes were shining. “I'd love to,” she said. “Call me at the paper in the morning.
Ciao!”

With that she climbed into the back seat of the silver car. Before Brenda closed the car door, she caught Nancy's eye, and Nancy saw triumph in the look. Then the door closed, and the big sedan surged away.

Ned looked at Nancy.
“Ciao?”
he echoed in a dubious tone.

“Leave it to Brenda,” Nancy said with a sigh of disappointment. She hadn't learned anything at all yet, though the look Brenda had given her made Nancy think
something
was up.

“Hey, look who's coming toward us,” she murmured a moment later.

It was Rick. He approached them with a smile. “Hi,” he said. “I'm glad to see a couple of familiar faces.”

Nancy raised her eyebrows. It was a bit of a stretch to call her and Ned familiar.

“I was wondering,” Rick went on smoothly. “I took a cab here tonight, and Brenda tells me it's hard to get a cab to come out here this late. Would it be too much trouble to give me a lift back to town?”

Nancy was puzzled. Why was he being so friendly now, when before he'd practically run away from them? She couldn't help wondering if this was part of some plan he and Brenda had hatched. What was his game?

Nancy was glad when Ned said, “Sure, no problem.” He gestured down the row of cars to their right. “My Chevy's parked right over there.”

Now, at least, she'd have a chance to dig deeper into Rick's story about his aunt being in danger. “So, Rick, you were telling me about your aunt and uncle before,” Nancy said
casually as the three of them walked to Ned's car.

“Oh, right,” Rick said. “Listen, forget about it. I shouldn't have been going on about their problems—it's really none of my business.”

“You know, Nancy is a detective,” Ned put in. They reached his car, and he unlocked it. “If you're really worried, talk to her. She can get to the bottom of anything.”

“A detective? No kidding!” Rick exclaimed. From the too-bright tone of his voice, Nancy was almost positive Ned's comment wasn't news to him.

“Maybe you
can
help me,” Rick said. He gave her a disarming grin. “Do you really want to hear my story?”

Nancy climbed into the passenger's seat. “Definitely,” she said. He sounded as if he had rehearsed every word. This ought to be good! Nancy told herself.

Rick climbed into the back seat, and Ned slid in behind the wheel. A moment later he was pulling into the stream of traffic leaving the concert.

“I've always been close to my aunt,” Rick began, leaning forward and resting his arms on the back of Nancy's bucket seat. “She's my godmother, too, and—well, several months ago she invited me to spend the summer with her and her new husband. But when I got here, he seemed very put out about my being here.”

“You said he's your aunt's new husband?” Ned asked, glancing at Rick in the rearview mirror. “If they're newlyweds, maybe he just wants time to be alone with his bride.”

Rick shook his head. “They're not newly-weds. I meant to say he's her
second
husband. They've been married over a year. No, he just doesn't want me around. I even heard them arguing about it one morning, when they thought I was still in bed. At one point Bi—my uncle said, ‘Why did Rick have to come
now?' ”

Nancy was sure Rick had been about to say his uncle's name before he stopped himself. Why wouldn't he want her to know who his uncle was? Aloud, she asked, “What did your aunt say?”

“She didn't say anything,” Rick answered. “She just burst into tears. She's been doing that a lot lately. And that's not like my aunt. She's usually a really fun-loving type.”

“Mmm. Go on,” Nancy prompted.

“Well, this morning we were having breakfast. My uncle had already left for work. My aunt was reading
Today's Times,
and suddenly she let out a funny little noise. She had turned totally white and appeared to be really shaken up.” Rick blew out his breath. “I asked her what was wrong, but she wouldn't give me a straight answer. She gave me some line about how she'd been reading about tornadoes and how much they scared her. But I knew she was
lying, because
I
had the news section. She was reading Lifestyles.”

“So later you checked out the Lifestyles section, and you saw the letter in Brenda's advice column from the woman who thinks her husband is trying to kill her,” Nancy guessed.

Inwardly, she was thinking, Oh, you're good, Brenda. You actually convinced this guy to back up your claim about someone being in trouble. She still couldn't think of why Rick would go along with the story, though. Maybe he just had a crush on Brenda.

“Right,” Rick was saying. “And I made a connection—” He broke off abruptly. “Wait, let me backtrack.” His voice grew sober. “See, I wouldn't have thought anything about that letter, except that just yesterday my aunt was in a car accident. And the letter had something in it about the husband sabotaging the wife's car.”

“But didn't the woman who wrote the letter say that she hasn't driven her car since she saw her husband tampering with it?” Ned pointed out, wheeling his Chevy into a right turn.

Rick shrugged and sat back. “Sure, but so what? That letter was probably written a few days ago. The accident was yesterday. Maybe something made her change her mind about driving.

“I wanted to see the letter Brenda got,” Rick continued. “I called the newspaper office this
morning, and the receptionist told me Brenda had just left for the mall, so I went there to find her,” Rick said. His voice grew sheepish. “The hardest part was getting up the nerve to approach her. A girl as gorgeous as Brenda—well, I was afraid she wouldn't even give me the time of day.”

In the driver's seat Ned turned and raised his eyebrows at Nancy. Rick sure was laying it on thick. Brenda must have loved coaching him on this part of their story!

Rick leaned forward again. “I recognized Brenda from her picture in the paper. I was sort of following her when she stopped to talk to you, Nancy. Then the next thing I knew, she was practically killed by that beam, and Brenda was saying someone did it on purpose because of her column.” He gave a little laugh. “Let me tell you, that really shook me up.”

Turning in the front seat to look at Rick Nancy commented, “Well, you and Brenda seemed to hit it off tonight. Did she show you the letter?”

“Not yet,” Rick admitted. “She has good reasons not to—she said it would be a violation of the writer's privacy, and it would compromise freedom of the press. But I'm still trying.”

Nancy had to admit that Rick and Brenda had thought of all the angles. But it was suspicious that he hadn't actually mentioned names. “Rick, if you don't mind my asking,”
Nancy said, “don't you think you should go to the police with this information? What's your aunt's name, anyway?”

“Oh, you wouldn't know her,” he said in a rush. Rick seemed immensely relieved when Ned broke into the conversation.

“Excuse me, Rick,” said Ned. “Where should I drop you off?”

“The corner of Grange and Spruce,” Rick said.

“It's no problem for us to take you right to your aunt's house,” Ned protested.

Rick seemed a bit flustered. “No—no, really, it's not necessary. Grange and Spruce is just fine. Really.”

“Okay,” Ned agreed, shrugging. “Whatever.”

A moment later, following Rick's directions, Ned pulled over at the intersection of Grange and Spruce, and Rick climbed out of the back seat. After thanking Nancy and Ned, he walked off into the darkness.

“Hmm,” Nancy mumbled as she gazed around. “Recognize this neighborhood, Ned?”

He peered through the windshield to where the headlights illuminated a big stone house. “Looks pretty ritzy.”

“It is,” Nancy informed him. “And it just so happens Brenda Carlton's house is only about a block away.”

Ned whistled. “Hey. Are you saying Rick is on his way to see Brenda right now?”

“I wouldn't be surprised,” Nancy said. She crossed her arms and frowned out into the night. “You know what? I think Brenda is using this guy Rick as part of some kind of campaign to convince the world—or me, at least—that the letter in this morning's column was serious.”

“You mean he's lying about his aunt?”

“I think so,” Nancy said uncertainly. Shrugging, she added, “Rick seems to have a crush on Brenda. She could be using that to get him to feed us this whole story. It's—”

Nancy was interrupted by a shout, followed by the echoing sound of rapid footsteps on pavement. Peering out her window, she saw a muscular man of medium height dash through the beams of the headlights. Close on his heels was a taller figure.

“It's Rick!” Nancy exclaimed, recognizing the second figure.

The shorter man was faster than Rick. He raced forward and snapped his head back briefly to check out his pursuer.

Nancy gasped when she saw his face. It was the man she'd seen the day of the car accident —the guy with the mismatched eyes!