Shadow of a Doubt

N
ANCY
D
REW HEARD
a click and then the long buzz of a dial tone.

“Who was that, Nan?” her friend George Fayne asked, curious.

The girls were in Nancy's bedroom, getting ready to go out to dinner with Nancy's father, Carson Drew. George's cousin, Bess Marvin, was putting a last coat of Marvelous Red polish on her fingernails.

“Who did you say it was?” Bess asked without looking up.

Nancy shrugged and put the phone back on the hook. “Wrong number, I guess. Whoever it was hung up, anyway.”

“Well, if it was Ned, he'll call back. He wouldn't hang up on purpose,” Bess said comfortingly.

Ned Nickerson was Nancy's steady boyfriend, but she didn't get many chances to see him because he was away at school, at Emerson College.

Hearing Ned's name made Nancy think about his warm brown eyes and good looks. A slow smile spread across her face as she imagined herself in his arms. Then a long sigh from Bess brought Nancy back to earth.

“Whatever you wear looks great on you,” Bess said to her. Nancy was wearing a hip-length slate blue cashmere sweater over black satin pants.

“Bess, you're terrific for my ego,” Nancy replied, smiling and pushing her reddish blond hair back from her face. One quick glance in the mirror told her that the sweater had been a good choice. It complemented the graceful curves of her slim figure and brought out the blue in her eyes.

“Why on earth did I buy this dress?” Bess asked, slipping in front of Nancy to look at herself in the mirror. She smoothed the soft, gray jersey over her hips. “It doesn't do a thing for me. If only I had lost five pounds before tonight.”

Nancy grinned. With her long blond curls and bright blue eyes, Bess was a knockout.
“You look gorgeous. And anyway, it's only dinner with my father,” she told her friend.

“Sure. But you never know when you're going to meet a cute waiter,” Bess said.

Bess's cousin, George Fayne, shook her head and rolled her eyes at Nancy. “In her case it's probably true. She will meet an adorable waiter,” she said. George leaned into Nancy's vanity mirror and fluffed out her short brown hair.

“Okay, okay.” Nancy intervened. “Are you two ready? Our reservation's for eight o'clock. If we don't leave now, we'll be late.”

Nancy pushed Bess and George out of her bedroom and down the stairs into the living room.

“Hannah!” Nancy exclaimed. The Drews' housekeeper, Hannah Gruen, had put on a red silk dress and a dash of lipstick.

“It's not often that I get to have dinner with a handsome man at River Heights's best French restaurant,” Hannah said, smiling at the surprised looks on Nancy, Bess, and George's faces.

Nancy was about to tell Hannah how nice she looked when the phone rang. She stepped across the living room to answer it. “Hello?”

Instead of a response, Nancy again heard the click of someone hanging up and then a dial tone. She slowly replaced the phone.

“No one there?” George asked.

Nancy shook her head. “It's probably nothing.” She paused. “I just wonder—”

“Wonder what, Nan?” Bess asked.

Hannah Gruen looked questioningly at Bess and then at Nancy.

“It's nothing, Hannah,” Nancy confidently told her. “It's just a crank call.”

Hannah shrugged. “If you say so, Nancy. But maybe you'd better mention it to your father.”

“It's nothing to worry about, Hannah,” Bess said. “It happens all the time. About a month ago my mom was getting them, but in the end—”

“Why don't you tell us in the car on the way to the restaurant?” George interrupted. “I'd hate to keep Mr. Drew waiting.”

Nancy smiled. George was better than anyone at distracting Bess and keeping her chatter to a minimum.

The three friends and Hannah piled into Nancy's Mustang for the short drive across town to Chez Louis.

As she swung around the circular drive that fronted the cozy, cottage-style French restaurant, Nancy smiled to herself. Only her dad would think to treat all of them to dinner at one of the best restaurants in River Heights, she thought. She had been there several times before with Ned, holding hands while watching the sun set over the river.

“Hey, Nancy, wake up.” Bess was outside the car, standing beside the driver's window. “There's a valet here who's dying to park your Mustang. And I'm starving.”

Nancy laughed and stepped out of her car. “I'm glad to hear it, Bess, because the food at Chez Louis is better than great,” she said, following Bess, George, and Hannah inside. There, the maître d', Antoine, was waiting.

“Bonsoir,
ladies, good evening,” Antoine said, greeting them.

“Bonsoir,
Antoine,” Nancy answered.

He led them across the restaurant to a table where her father was waiting. Carson Drew was River Heights's most distinguished lawyer. Nancy was proud of her tall, handsome father.

“Are these the four lovely women you were expecting?” Antoine asked with a twinkle in his eye.

“And right on time.” Carson stood up and gave Nancy a kiss on the forehead. He smiled at Bess and George, then turned to Hannah. “You look terrific!”

Hannah blushed as Antoine held out her chair. “Thank you,” she said, sitting down and unfolding her napkin.

Nancy, Bess, and George took their seats around the circular table as Antoine handed them their menus.

“I hope you're all in the mood for a good
dinner,” Carson said, “because this is the place for it.”

While they were reading their menus, deciding what to order, Nancy took in the restaurant's plush surroundings. A pleasant glow of candlelight made the elegant silverware set on starched white tablecloths shine. At the far end of the restaurant, where huge windows overlooked the river, couples carried on hushed conversations over their meals.

With a smile Nancy returned her attention to the menu. “Well, I think I know what I want,” she said finally. “How about you, Bess?”

Bess gave Nancy a confused look. “I'm not sure yet. There's so much to choose from!”

“You said it,” George replied. “And it all looks good. Look, they've even got frogs' legs!”

Carson laughed. “I know they sound strange, but actually they're quite delicious.”

Nancy half listened as her father told them about a trip to Paris he'd taken a few years earlier and the frogs' legs he'd eaten there. Nancy's thoughts wandered. She was trying to make some sense of the timing or frequency of the phone calls she'd been receiving. It was no use, though. She had drawn a blank.

“Is everything okay, Nancy?” her father asked.

“I can tell you're still thinking about those phone calls, aren't you?” Hannah said pointedly.

George and Bess exchanged a look. “Let's order,” George said. The waiter was standing beside their table now, smiling at them.

“I'll have the artichoke appetizer and the cassoulet,” Nancy told him.

“Mussels and steak tartare for me,” George put in.

Bess fumbled. “Um, vichyssoise and—an omelet.”

“Good choice, Bess,” Carson said with a smile. He ordered for both Hannah and himself. “We'll have the Caesar salad and steak au poivre, medium rare. How does that sound?”

“Wonderful,” Hannah said. “I just couldn't decide.”

The waiter left. Carson turned to Nancy. “Now, what's this about phone calls?” he asked.

“I didn't want to bother you, but we've been getting phone calls lately where the caller hangs up as soon as I answer. I got two more tonight just before we left the house.”

“Actually I did take a couple myself, but I didn't realize there were a lot of them,” Carson said with a frown.

George looked at her friend. “The solution is simple, Nan—go to the police tomorrow
and ask them to trace the calls. Then they can stop whoever's behind them.”

“That's a wonderful idea, George,” Hannah said.

“You're right, Hannah,” Nancy said, brightening. “I'll call Chief McGinnis first thing.”

“I'm glad that's solved,” Carson said, as the waiter brought over their appetizers. “I'm just as concerned as you are, Nancy, but I was looking forward to a night without mystery.” He winked at Bess and George.

Nancy laughed. “You're right, Dad. Now, why isn't everybody eating?”

• • •

“I don't think I'll be able to eat for days,” Bess groaned as she dropped onto the sofa in the Drews' living room.

“I'm not surprised. You polished off everything, including dessert,” George teased.

“I know. But I'm not going to feel guilty. You only live once, after all.”

Hannah laughed. “You tell her, Bess.”

“I think Antoine has a crush on you, Hannah,” Carson said with a smile. “He doesn't kiss everyone's hand, you know.”

“Those French men are incredible,” George said, giggling. “Romance must be their middle name!”

“I can't wait to go back to Paris—” Bess began. The doorbell rang, interrupting her.

“I'll get it,” Hannah said, walking to the front door. “It's awfully late for anyone to come to visit.”

“A package for Carson Drew,” a young, blond-haired guy said after Hannah had opened the door.

She looked quizzically at the young man. “Thanks,” she finally said, and took the envelope.

“This is strange—a young man just brought this for you,” she said, handing the large manila envelope to Carson.

Carson took it from her. “That is strange,” he said. “Who would send me something so late at night?”

After he opened the envelope and took out the contents, Nancy watched as a confused look passed over her father's face.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I'm not sure.” Carson showed the photograph that had been inside to Nancy.

It was a shot of a well-dressed man, sitting behind a desk. The skyline of River Heights appeared in a window behind him.

Nancy looked up at her father, puzzled. “What's this all about?” she asked.

“Probably some crank,” he answered slowly.

Nancy took the photograph in her hands to study it more closely. With a shock, she noticed
that someone had written in small block letters across the bottom of the picture.

“You can't pretend anymore, Carson Drew. Soon everyone in River Heights will know you hid the evidence that proved this man's guilt!”

Q
UESTIONS TUMBLED
through Nancy's head. Why would anyone accuse her father of such a thing? Who was the man in the photograph? Did her father know him? Judging from the look on her father's face, Nancy could tell he was taking the threat seriously.

“What does all this mean?” she asked finally, her voice calm and businesslike.