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Authors: Carolyn Keene

BOOK: Secrets Can Kill
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Eleven

N
ANCY FOUND
C
ONNIE
Watson in the gym after school, watching cheerleader practice. She climbed the bleachers to her side.

“I have to talk to you,” she said quietly. “About Jake Webb. And your bracelet. And a videotape I found.”

Connie's round face flushed and then drained of color until it resembled a full moon. “I . . . I don't . . .” she stammered.

“Look,” Nancy went on, ignoring the girl's panicked eyes, “the police found your bracelet in Jake's locker. And I know it's yours because I saw the videotape—the one Jake made of you
stealing it. I haven't shown it to the police yet. But I will unless you tell me everything you know about how Jake was murdered.”

Tears ran down Connie's cheeks, making them glisten under the bright gym lights. “It all started at the beginning of the school year. See, that bracelet wasn't the only thing I stole,” she admitted. “I took a sweater the first time, and it was so easy I decided to try for a jacket.” Connie swallowed hard. “Only that time I got caught. It's all in my school file.”

“And since Jake worked in the office, he found out about it,” Nancy commented.

Connie nodded and took a shaky breath. “I didn't know he knew, of course. But then, after I took the bracelet . . . Well, I know it was wrong but I wanted it so much, and there was no way I could afford it! I promised myself it was the last time. But then . . .”

She wiped her face and sniffed loudly. “ . . . Then Jake came strutting along, said he had a ‘movie' he wanted me to see. I nearly died when I saw it! I told him I was going to return the bracelet, but that slug made me wear it. When I tried to get rid of it, he stopped me and kept it himself. He said he knew all about my shoplifting record and that if he told anyone about the bracelet, I'd probably go to jail. And he was right!

“So after that, I had to do everything he asked.” Connie shuddered. “Everything. I
hoped that when he died, my secret would die with him.”

Nancy felt terrible, but she had to keep pushing or she'd never get to the bottom of the mystery. “But Jake didn't just die,” she said. “Someone killed him.”

“I know, I know,” Connie moaned. Then she looked at Nancy sharply. “I didn't do it! I'm not sorry he's dead, but I didn't kill him—and I can't believe you think I might have!”

With a sob, Connie ran down the bleacher steps and out of the gym. Nancy felt helpless. She wished she could have told Connie everything would be okay. But Connie had as much reason to knock off Jake as anyone else he'd blackmailed. Until Nancy found out who did it, she couldn't afford to feel sorry for anybody, not even sweet Connie Watson.

• • •

Still thinking about the answers she didn't have, Nancy left the gym and walked outside to her car. Daryl Gray was leaning against the driver's door, and Nancy's stomach did a little flip at the sight of him.

“I can tell by the look on your face that your ‘interviews' didn't go too well,” he said when she reached his side.

“You're right,” Nancy admitted. “I'm not much further along than I was last night. But I'll figure it out eventually.” She looked at him with a mock frown. “What are you doing here,
anyway? I didn't think you'd ever come within fifty feet of a car of mine.”

“When you want to be with somebody enough, you have to take chances.” Daryl put a hand on Nancy's shoulder and brought his lips close to her ear. “Besides,” he whispered, “I have an ulterior motive.” He pulled open the door for her. “What I really want, aside from spending some time with you, is to see that tape.”

“You mean ‘The Secrets of Bedford High?' ”

“Yeah. It sounds wild.” Daryl shut the door after her and leaned down, his head in the window. “No, really, I thought maybe I could help. I know all those people better than you do. Maybe I can find some clues.”

“It sounds good to me,” Nancy said. “Let's go.”

“You lead, I'll follow,” Daryl said, and walked off toward his Porsche.

Half an hour later, the two of them were in Nancy's house, sitting close together on the beige couch in the den, sipping Cokes and looking at the Jake Webb production.

Daryl watched carefully but didn't say much, and Nancy was acutely aware of his closeness in the darkened room. As Connie Watson faded into the crowds of shoppers, Daryl brought his arm up and around Nancy's shoulder, his hand resting lightly on the back of her neck.

By the time Connie was walking up the
school steps, neither Daryl nor Nancy was watching. Their eyes were on each other.

“I hate to tell you this,” Daryl said softly, “but I didn't see anything that might help you out.”

“That's okay,” Nancy whispered. “I'm glad you came over anyway.”

As if they'd both thought of it at the same time, they moved their heads closer together until their lips were touching. Nancy slid her hands up Daryl's arms, felt his thick blond hair under her fingers, felt his lips press against hers. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears, and then suddenly she heard another sound—the doorbell.

Reluctant, but almost relieved, Nancy disentangled herself from Daryl's arms and stood up. “Bad timing, huh?”

“The worst,” Daryl groaned ruefully.

The doorbell chimed again and Nancy went down the hall to answer it.

“Nan, hi!” Bess's smile changed to a gape as she stared at Nancy. “Were you taking a nap or something?”

“No, why?”

“You look a little . . . wrinkled,” George pointed out.

“No, I was just—” Nancy stopped when she realized that her friends were staring at something behind her. Turning, she saw Daryl walking down the hall toward them, smoothing his
hair with one hand and straightening his shirt with the other.

After a quick introduction Daryl turned to Nancy. “I think I'd better get going,” he said with a warm smile. “See you tomorrow, okay?”

Bess could hardly wait until he was out the door. “Wow,” she said breathily. “No wonder you look so glassy-eyed, Nancy. He's gorgeous!”

“For once I can't argue,” George said.

“If I hadn't just met somebody else,” Bess went on, “—and by the way, his name's Alan Wales, Nancy, wait'll you see him—I'd definitely fall in love with Daryl Gray. What were you two up to, anyway?”

Nancy was saved from explaining by another bell—the telephone. “Nancy,” Hannah called from the kitchen. “It's for you. It's Ned.”

“Thanks, Hannah,” Nancy called back. “I'll take it in my bedroom.” With a flustered smile, she turned to Bess and George. “I'll meet you in the den in a couple of minutes. Oh, turn off the tape machine, would you? I forgot.”

“I can't imagine why,” Bess teased.

Alone in her room Nancy tried to compose herself before she picked up the extension. Would Ned hear anything in her voice that would reveal what she'd just done? She hoped not. After all, Daryl was exciting, but Ned Nickerson was the one she loved. Wasn't he?

“Ned?”

“Hey, Nancy. How're you doing? I miss you.”

She could hear the smile in his voice. “I miss you, too,” she told him. “How's life at the university?”

“Busy. I've got good news, but first, tell me how the case is going.”

“Well, I'll put it this way—it's still going.” Nancy didn't really want to get into it. She might have to mention Daryl and she wasn't ready for that. “What's your good news?”

“I'm coming down this weekend.”

“To River Heights?”

“Where else? That's where
you
are, isn't it?” Ned laughed. “What's the matter, don't you want to see me?”

“Are you kidding? Of course I do!” Nancy could say that truthfully, but still, she wondered what the weekend would be like. After all, she had a date with Daryl for the dance. What would Ned think about that? “When will you get here?” she asked.

“Tomorrow, early afternoon sometime. I'll call you as soon as I get there. Nancy?” Ned lowered his voice. “I can't wait to see you. Let's do something special.”

“You're on,” Nancy said with a grin, although she couldn't imagine what they'd do, not if she was busy with Daryl.

After she hung up, she tried to figure out whether to tell Ned everything about the case,
including her two “close encounters” with Daryl, or to keep those incidents a secret and just pass Daryl off as one of her contacts in the case.

She was staring at the phone and chewing on a fingernail when George stuck her head around the door. “Nancy? Could you come in the den? There's something you should see.”

Glad to be distracted, Nancy followed George down the hall and into the den. “Bess was just about to turn the VCR off when something came on,” George explained. “I guess Jake had one more scene and he put it at the very end of the tape.”

“Who is it?” Nancy asked. “What other poor slob did Jake have in the wringer?”

“Oh, Nancy, it's not just another poor slob,” Bess said. “Look.”

George pushed the play button and a face appeared on the television screen. Nancy didn't say a word. She couldn't. The face belonged to Daryl Gray!

Chapter

Twelve

I
N DISBELIEVING SILENCE
Nancy watched her “contact” in front of an unseen video camera. She had to keep reminding herself that it wasn't a performance. It was for real.

Scene One—Daryl got into his Porsche and drove off, the camera lingering on a sign for Route 110 East.

Scene Two—The Porsche pulled into the parking lot of a tacky-looking diner called the Red Caboose. Daryl got out of the car, walked across the street, and stood waiting on the sidewalk. Jake had obviously stayed behind, hidden somewhere in the Red Caboose lot.

Scene Three—A heavyset man with thick hair and a bushy mustache joined Daryl on the sidewalk. Jake zoomed in for a closer shot. The camera zeroed in on an identification tag clipped to the man's pocket. Nancy tried desperately to read the name. She thought she could make out an
M
and a
D,
but she wasn't sure. Jake hadn't been able to get a tight enough shot. Daryl and the man exchanged a few words, and then the man handed Daryl a small envelope, which Daryl stuffed in his jeans pocket. The man walked away, revealing on the chain-link fence behind him a sign, about one foot square. The letters were unreadable.

Scene Four—Another shot of Daryl in his car, this time passing the high school on Bedford Road.

Scene Five—The Porsche turned into a drive. No house was visible from the road, just an intricately scrolled wrought-iron fence on each side of the drive.

That was it. Five short scenes that blew Nancy's world apart. Less than an hour earlier, she'd been in Daryl's arms, a victim of his warm eyes and smooth personality. Then suddenly she'd discovered that he, too, was a victim of Jake Webb's scheming mind.

A few things began to make sense—the way Daryl had tried to talk her out of dealing with Jake, his eagerness to know how the case was going and to see the tape. With a shudder,
Nancy wondered what would have happened if he'd stayed long enough to see himself on the screen. Would he have killed Nancy for the tape, the way he might—just might—have killed Jake?

Pushing that awful thought from her mind, Nancy jumped up and turned the tape off. Then she started pacing around the room.

“Nancy,” Bess asked, “are you okay?”

“Just totally confused.” Nancy managed a laugh. “I mean, obviously Jake had something on Daryl. But what? The tape really doesn't show him doing anything wrong.”

“It doesn't show much of anything,” Bess agreed. “He just went someplace, met a man, and then went someplace else. I know!” she said. “Maybe he had a gambling thing going. You know, running numbers.”

That made sense, Nancy thought. After all, with his father practically bankrupt, Daryl would want to keep up his slick lifestyle somehow. Gambling wasn't so terrible, she told herself hopefully.

“Well, we're not getting anywhere sitting around talking about it,” George pointed out.

“You're right. Let's get going. I want to try to follow Daryl's route on the tape.” Nancy grabbed the keys to her car. “We know what the others did. Now let's find out what Daryl's secret is.”

Nancy's new car sped along Route 110. “Just
keep your eyes open for that diner,” she reminded her friends.

“I won't miss it,” Bess said. “I'm famished.”

“We're not going there to eat,” George told her.

“I know, but it wouldn't hurt to get a takeout order. I was so busy with Alan that I didn't even get lunch. Oh, Nancy,” Bess went on, “I can't wait for you to meet Alan! He's not only good-looking, he's talented.”

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