Secrets Can Kill (12 page)

“It's not exactly what I had in mind when we came out here,” Daryl said, trying to joke, “but if you really want to talk instead of . . . doing other things, then go ahead.”

“Okay, here's what I saw on the tape,” Nancy said. “I call it ‘The Daryl Gray Show.' ” Calmly and quietly she went on to describe exactly what she and Bess and George had seen after Daryl had left her house that afternoon.
“Surprised
doesn't even come close to the way I felt when that tape ended,” she said. “Sick is more like it.”

Daryl didn't say anything, so Nancy kept talking. “But I was confused, too. I mean, I still didn't know what Jake had on you. So I decided to find out. I don't have to tell you where I went, do I? Out Route 110 to a U.S. defense plant. Then back to Bedford to a private estate where Russian diplomats hang out—relax, study a lot of top-secret plans from the defense plant, stuff like that.”

Nancy shook her head and laughed softly. “I can just imagine how Jake felt when he realized what was going on. He must have thought he was sitting on a gold mine.” She leaned forward slightly, and in the semi-darkness, she saw the expression on Daryl's face. He looked resigned, like a trapped animal that knows it can't get free. But like that trapped animal, he also looked angry, ready to strike out at anyone who came close.

For the first time since she'd left the dance with Daryl, Nancy felt she might be in danger. He was so close to her, physically, and she
found herself wishing the Porsche were a little more roomy. Some space would be nice just then, the length of a football field, for example.

You're almost finished,
she told herself.
Just get it over with.
“I know Jake told you that he'd found out your secret. I don't know how much of your ‘salary' you had to fork over to keep him quiet, but that doesn't matter,” Nancy said. “It probably didn't even matter to Jake after a while, because Jake decided to go after the bigger fish, didn't he? Which of your ‘contacts' did he try to blackmail? The one at the defense plant? The one here in Bedford? Both?”

Daryl turned his head to look at her, and Nancy saw that the anger was growing stronger. “Well, it doesn't matter,” she said. “I'll find out.” She spoke quickly, wanting to finish before Daryl exploded. “What I really want to know—and what I think you can tell me—is who killed Jake. Was it you?”

The explosion came then. Nancy felt Daryl's hand—the touch of which had once made her quiver with excitement—close over her wrist in a painfully tight grip. Then he was getting out of the car, dragging her roughly after him. Nancy stumbled and felt her knee scrape the parking lot pavement, but Daryl had grabbed her arms by then, and was pulling her up and pushing her against the car.

“Listen,” he whispered hoarsely, “Jake got in over his head, and so have you. If you think I'm
a killer, what makes you think I'd stop with Jake Webb?”

Nancy saw the look of desperate fury in Daryl's eyes and knew she needed help. Fortunately she'd planned for it. As she stared back at Daryl, she saw his eyes blink suddenly as three sets of headlights were switched on in three different locations. The glare blinded both of them for a second, but Nancy heard car doors opening and knew that Bess and George were on their way. Most important, George's “blind” date—Ned Nickerson—was with them. Nancy was glad he'd come home for the weekend. Knowing he was there made her feel stronger.

Daryl heard the doors, too, and the sound of hurried footsteps on the pavement. He turned his head just in time to see the three figures moving swiftly toward the Porsche. Then he ran.

“Nan, are you all right?” Bess called out.

“I'm fine!” Nancy shouted back. She took off after Daryl, but before she'd taken even two steps, she felt someone rush past her. When she saw who it was, she stopped. Ned Nickerson could handle Daryl Gray any day of the week.

Ned's strong legs easily ate up the distance between him and Daryl. As Nancy watched he sprang into the air, landed on Daryl's back, and brought them both crashing to the ground. Then he was up, yanking Daryl to his feet. He
half-dragged him back to the Porsche and slammed him up against its side.

“Ned!” Nancy had never seen him act so rough. When he'd arrived earlier, she'd told him everything about Daryl, except for his feelings about her—and vice versa. She was saving that for later, when the case was all cleared up. But seeing the tension in Ned's face, she wondered if he suspected something. She hoped not. She definitely couldn't handle it at the moment.

But then Ned loosened his grip on Daryl's jacket and turned to Nancy with an apologetic smile. “Sorry,” he said. “I tend to get carried away when some killer threatens my girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend!” Daryl exclaimed. Then he cried, “I'm not a killer!”

“You could have fooled me,” Ned said quietly, as he stepped away from Daryl and let Nancy take over.

“You didn't kill Jake Webb?” Nancy asked.

Daryl shook his head. “I just said that stuff to scare you off.” His voice was drained of energy. He looked like a whipped puppy. “The guy at the defense plant—Mitch Dillon—killed Jake. He told me so.” Daryl took a shaky breath and then went on. “See, Jake wasn't satisfied with blackmailing just me. So he forced me to get him in touch with Mitch. Mitch played along with him, let Jake set up a meeting at the
school. Then he told Jake to give him the tape or he'd kill him.” Daryl shook his head again, as if he couldn't quite believe it. “I don't have to tell you what happened then.”

“Knowing Jake, he probably laughed at the guy,” Nancy said.

“Yeah, and he died laughing, the stupid jerk.” Daryl was calmer now. There was no anger in his voice, just sadness. “Anyway, when Mitch didn't get the tape he was ready to explode. He told me to get it, came on really strong with all kinds of threats.”

“It was you in the video lab that day, wasn't it?” Nancy asked.

Daryl nodded. “I started to chase you,” he explained, “but I just couldn't go through with it. I mean, what was I supposed to do when I caught you? Beat you up?” He smiled weakly and shrugged. “Waiting until you told me about the tape was one of the hardest times I've ever been through. But then when I watched it with you, I wasn't on it. I thought I could put this whole thing behind me.”

Finally Nancy had the entire story. She should have felt like celebrating, but she didn't. She felt more like crying. From the looks on Bess's and George's faces, she could tell they felt the same way. How could you celebrate when someone-—even a creep like Jake Webb—had been murdered? When Daryl Gray's life was probably ruined?

Nancy glanced at Ned. As usual, he sensed how she felt before she had to tell him. He came over and put his arm around her shoulders. Nancy smiled at him and then turned back to Daryl.

“I don't think you'll ever be able to put it behind you,” she told him. “Not completely, anyway. You'll have to face up to what you've done, and to what the government will want to do to you.”

Daryl didn't bother to answer. He just gave a defeated shrug, not meeting her eyes.

“But I think I know a way for you to make it a whole lot easier on yourself,” Nancy went on.

Daryl raised his head, a spark of interest in his beautiful eyes. “How?”

“By helping us catch the murderer.”

“You've got to be kidding! Mitch has nothing to lose at this point.” Daryl's eyes swept over the parking lot, as if he were trying to find an escape route. But he was trapped, and he knew it. “Don't you understand?!” he screamed. “He'll kill me!”

N
ED TURNED THE
car smoothly onto Bedford Road, heading toward the high school. Then he glanced over at Nancy, who was frowning in concentration. “Do you really think Mitch Dillon would kill Daryl?”

“I just don't know,” Nancy admitted. “Who can say for sure?” She felt uncomfortable just thinking about it. On Friday night, in the parking lot, she'd spent almost forty-five minutes convincing Daryl to see things her way. By helping her put Mitch Dillon behind bars, she'd said, Daryl would be easing his conscience. And it might help him out of some of the trouble he'd gotten himself into. She'd told
Daryl that
he
didn't have much to lose, either. It had been easy enough to say then, when she was persuading Daryl to go along with her plan.

But Monday was three days later, and in a few short hours, they'd be putting that plan into action. It was a good plan, Nancy knew, but no plan was foolproof. And if something went wrong, Daryl would be the one to pay the price.

Sensing her worry, Ned reached over and squeezed her hand. His classload was light for the next few days and he'd decided to stay and help out. “Hey,” he said gently. “Everything's going to be fine. I'll be there. George and Bess and Alan will be there. Even the police are coming. And you're way ahead of the game, where they're concerned. You've already solved the case and they're still scratching their heads about it.”

“Well, I had a head start on them, plus a very important piece of evidence.” Nancy began to feel better. “Besides, I do need them. They're the only ones who can make an arrest.”

Nancy giggled, remembering the look on the police captain's face when she'd told him her story. He'd never heard of Nancy Drew, girl detective, and it took two phone calls—one to her father and one to Mr. Parton—to make him stop looking angry and start looking amazed.

Once he got over his amazement, though, the captain had been more than willing to go along with Nancy's plan. It was a simple plan, really.
Daryl had called Mitch Dillon, told him he had the incriminating tape, and set up a meeting with him for Monday afternoon at five-thirty. At the meeting Daryl would make sure that Mitch talked about murdering Jake Webb. The best part of the plan was that Nancy and her friends were going to get the confession on videotape, using a hidden camera.

As Ned drove toward Bedford High, Nancy checked her watch. In a few hours the case would be over, she hoped. The thought of having to wait out the entire day in school was driving her crazy. But she wanted to keep an eye on Daryl and make sure he didn't bolt. She didn't think he would, but she couldn't take that chance.

“Now, remember,” Ned joked as he pulled the car to a stop, “don't lose your lunch money and don't cut any classes.”

“Very funny,” Nancy said. “How about if we trade places? You go to school and I'll scout around the meeting place?”

“No, thanks. But I will make a deal with you.” Ned leaned over and put his hand on the back of her neck. “You behave in school and our trip to the mountains will be next weekend. Mom and Dad are dying to get up there. The cabin has a big stone fireplace, and it's really cozy on cold nights.”

“You've got yourself a date!” Nancy bent her head and kissed Ned, wondering how she'd ever
thought Daryl Gray was exciting. But she had, and she was going to have to deal with that sooner or later. Later, she told herself. She gave Ned another lingering kiss, then hopped out of the car and went in to school.

• • •

If Nancy really had been a student, she would have flunked out for sure. At least ten times that day, she'd been caught staring out the window instead of taking notes, and her English teacher had come right out and asked her if she'd left her brains at home. “Where is your mind, Miss Drew?” Nancy was tempted to tell him that her mind was on blackmail, espionage, and murder, but she kept her mouth shut. He would probably have sent her straight to the school psychologist.

She saw Daryl twice—in the hallway and in the cafeteria—and he seemed fine. Nervous, but ready to go, he said. Nancy was nervous, too, and edgy with waiting, but knowing that Daryl was holding up okay made her relax a little.

The next time she saw him was at the meeting place, a public park near Bedford High. She'd joined Ned, Bess, Alan, and George there as soon as school was out. Ned had been exploring the park most of the afternoon, finding the best place to conceal the camera. He was showing Nancy some heavy shrubs that looked perfect, when Daryl came running up to them. Nancy
glanced at his face and felt her heart begin to sink. Daryl looked terrified.

“It's Mitch, he . . .” Daryl gasped for breath. “He called me at school, pretended he was my father. We—we can't go through with this!”

“Why not?” Nancy asked. “What did he say?”

“He said he can't make it at five-thirty,” Daryl told her. “I don't know if he suspects anything, but he's going to be here in ten minutes, and there's no time to let the police in on the change of plans!”

Nancy felt a moment of panic herself, but in just a few seconds, that panic changed to anger. “Look,” she said, “maybe he does suspect something, he wouldn't be a very good spy if he didn't keep his eyes open. But he can't possibly have any idea about what we've got in store for him. We can't just give up. He could be planning to leave the country or something. This might be our last chance to get him!”