041 Something to Hide (8 page)

But it didn’t.

The lock was a kind she’d never seen before, and it took at least five agonizing minutes before she had the door open. Nancy studied the lock carefully. Unlike most of the locks she’d encountered over the years, this one required a key to open it on both sides.

Nancy flipped on the lights and breathed a sigh of relief. This small, windowless room did hold the files. Three of the four walls were lined with cabinets. A table with a single chair sat in the middle of the room, probably to give the file clerks space to work.

Nancy walked quickly to the files, her eyes scanning the labels for the drawer that would hold Justin’s personnel record. There it was— the one with the
D
’s.

She was about to slide it open when she heard footsteps.

Leaving the file-room door open just a crack, Nancy raced back to the outer room and up to
the computer with her toolbox next to it. She was staring intently at the computer when the guard stuck her head through the door.

“Any luck?” the guard asked.

Nancy shook her head. “I’ve run diagnostic tests,” she said. “Nothing seems to be wrong.”

The guard tut-tutted sympathetically. “There’s a soda machine at the end of the hall,” she told Nancy. “Want one?”

“No thanks,” Nancy said. She waited, listening tensely, until she heard the guard return to her desk. Then she quickly moved back to the file room. Once again she left the door open just a crack. If anyone looked into the personnel department, they’d think the file room was safely closed and locked.

At least that was what Nancy hoped.

She opened the
D
file with a mounting sense of anticipation. There was Justin’s section— the one marked “DOB-DOL.” In just a few seconds Nancy would know the truth about him!

“ ‘Dodd, Alicia,’ ” she muttered aloud. “’Dodd, Martin. Doddson’—wait!”

There was no “Dodd, Justin” file.

There had to be! Justin hadn’t denied working for Asco. He’d been open about the fact that he’d been a summer intern there. He had to have a personnel file!

Perhaps it was misfiled. Nancy looked carefully through the entire drawer of
D
’s.

The folder wasn’t there.

Nancy hadn’t been sure what she’d find in the file. She hoped that it would confirm exactly what Justin had told her—that he had worked for Asco during the summer but was no longer on the payroll. She had been afraid that the file would show he was still working for them—that perhaps he was on special assignment to sabotage Spotless. The one thing she hadn’t expected was that there wouldn’t be a file.

In her disappointment, Nancy closed the file drawer harder than she’d intended. As she did, she heard an ominous click. She turned quickly to see what had happened.

Oh, no! she thought. It couldn’t be!

The force of the slamming file drawer had blown the file-room door closed.

Nancy raced to the door and turned the handle frantically—but she was too late. The damage was done. The door had locked, and all her tools were on the other side.

Nancy was trapped inside the Asco file room!

N
ANCY STARED AT THE DOOR,
thinking fast. She had to get out!

She’d already spent too much time at Asco. The guard might be more interested in her TV than in visitors, but eventually she’d start wondering why it was taking Nancy so long to repair the computer. Then she’d come looking for her.

Nancy tried the door again, but she knew it wouldn’t open. It didn’t. Nancy cast her eyes slowly around the room, inspecting every inch. There must be something in there she could use to pick the lock.

There wasn’t. The room contained only a
single table, a chair, and file cabinets. Besides, Nancy knew nothing short of professional lock picks could get her out.

There were no windows, no other doors. The file room was nothing more than a large closet.

Nancy paced the floor. Then a thought suddenly occurred to her. She looked up—and for the first time since the door had closed, a smile crossed her face. It just might work.

The first step was to move the table up next to the door. Nancy breathed silent thanks that the file-room table was made of lightweight metal rather than solid, heavy wood. It was sturdy enough for what she had in mind, but she could easily push it.

Nancy’s heart began to pound as she climbed on top of the table. What if her plan didn’t work?

Don’t think about that! she told herself sternly. Then, standing on the table, she reached up and tried to touch the ceiling.

It was no good. Stretch though she might, there was still a six-inch gap between her fingertips and the ceiling panels.

Nancy jumped down lightly and lifted the chair onto the table. This would be trickier, but it was the only way to get the height she needed.

She balanced the chair against the wall, then climbed onto it. Now she had no trouble touching the ceiling. With both palms flat, she
lifted a ceiling panel and slid it to the side.

She had to swallow a shout of relief. The space was just as she’d hoped!

Like those of most commercial buildings, the Asco offices had dropped ceilings. Removable tiles rested on metal gridworks, which left a two-foot space between them and the plaster ceiling. The space was designed for heating ducts and telephone wires.

It also offered enough room for an escape route.

Nancy carefully hoisted herself into the crawl space and stretched out on her stomach to support her weight. The metal gridwork was strong enough to support the ceiling tiles, but Nancy had no way of knowing whether it would hold her.

Holding her breath, she slid forward an inch at a time toward the other room. There she removed another ceiling tile—and then lowered herself into the room.

Nancy raced to her toolbox, grabbed her lock picks, and opened the door to the file room again. Then she climbed back onto the table, this time to replace the ceiling tiles.

When she was sure that both rooms looked the same as before, Nancy closed the file-room door for the last time.

• • •

“Is that dust in your hair?” Ned asked her a little while later. Nancy had called him after
leaving Asco, and they’d agreed to meet for a soda. After that, Nancy planned to go home for a late dinner and bed.

She reached up to pat the top of her head. “Could be,” she said. “I’ve been all over since I saw you last.” She leaned back against the back of the booth and yawned.

“What do you mean? Where were you?”

Nancy grinned. “Checking out a hunch— the hard way.” Quickly she filled him in on her adventure in the Asco personnel offices.

“I can’t believe it!” Ned marveled. “You’re lucky you didn’t get caught!”

Now that it was over, it didn’t seem to Nancy as though she’d been in much danger. She shrugged. “The only risky part was jumping down from the ceiling. That’s where my judo training was useful. If there’s one thing I learned in those classes, it was how to fall softly.” She chuckled. “Believe me, Ned—it was a long way down.”

“But you didn’t find out anything?” he asked.

“That’s the strange thing. I don’t understand why Justin’s file was missing. It makes me wonder if there’s some kind of cover-up. Do you suppose Asco really has something to hide?”

“Like what?” Ned asked as the waitress put down their sodas.

“Well, I’ve been thinking about it. Asco
stands to gain more than anyone if Spotless is discredited,” Nancy explained. “Clearly is Spotless’s main competitor. If Spotless never makes it to the market, Clearly will keep making a fortune for Asco.”

Ned nodded. “I still can’t picture Justin being part of something illegal, though,” he said. “It just doesn’t seem like him.”

“You noticed him at the mall this afternoon,” Nancy countered. “Even I was scared of him.”

Ned’s dark eyes looked concerned. “I didn’t watch what was happening very closely—I was too busy talking to Brad. I thought Justin and Heather were playing around. They’ve always been good friends. It isn’t that they’ve dated, but they’ve been buddies since I’ve known them. Well, they’re under a lot of strain—especially now that Spotless may be causing all this sick mess. I hope McGinnis finds out soon who or what’s to blame.” Ned paused a moment, then quickly added, “Oh, I dropped our remaining samples off at police headquarters.”

“Good. The sooner we know, the better. Heather said she felt down enough to drop out of the program altogether.”

Ned looked startled. “Maybe she really does mean it. She always says she’s dropping out, but I thought she was just trying to get us to
coax her to stay.” He shook his head. “I’ll say one thing—we all need a break.”

“Well, there’s always Justin’s costume party —if anyone’s still speaking, that is,” Nancy said with a laugh.

“Do you think we should go?” Ned asked.

“Try to keep me away!” said Nancy. “It’ll be the perfect chance to keep an eye on my number one suspect. Besides, I bet you’ll look cute in the little bunny costume I got for you. Just kidding! Just kidding!” She squealed as Ned picked up his water glass and tipped it threateningly over her head.

“Watch out, Nancy Drew!” Ned said. “You’re skating on thin ice!”

Nancy laughed. Their playfulness was making her feel a lot better. “I have to be getting home. It’s late.”

“Sure,” Ned said, picking up the check and reaching for his wallet.

A few minutes and a kiss from Ned later, Nancy was heading home. When she reached her house, she parked her car in front and hurried up the steps to the front porch. Her father was still out of town with a client, but Nancy knew that Hannah Gruen, the Drews’ housekeeper, would be keeping dinner for her, and she didn’t want to make Hannah wait.

The porch light wasn’t on, so Nancy didn’t see anything unusual until she opened the
front door and the light from the house spilled onto the porch.

There at the side of the door was a small cardboard box. It had no label—just Nancy’s name printed in bold letters.

That’s strange, Nancy thought. No one delivers on Sunday.

She picked up the box and opened it carefully. When she saw what was inside, her eyes widened with shock.

There was no mistaking it. Nancy had seen those white plastic containers too many times not to recognize this one. Someone had left her a sample of Spotless.

As she lifted the jar from the box, Nancy saw a card. She turned it over—and when she saw the printing, her face grew pale.

“You’re next, Nancy Drew!”

N
ANCY KEPT HER COOL
. She’d gotten anonymous notes like this one often enough in the past. They always meant that someone had a real stake in trying to get her off a case.

She stepped into the house and looked closely at the card, searching for a clue—any clue to who might have sent it.

The card itself was ordinary. The message had been printed in block letters, and there was nothing distinctive about the letters. Nothing, that is, except the color. The warning message had been printed in brown ink.

Justin Dodd’s pen had brown ink!

Well, Nancy decided, this certainly looks
incriminating. But as she stared at the card again, she began to wonder just how incriminating it actually was. Would Justin really give himself away like this? Or was someone else trying to frame him?

And if someone was trying to frame Justin, then Nancy was right back at the beginning— with no specific suspect at all.

Nancy set her jaw and straightened her shoulders. Nothing—warnings, poisoned samples, the distrust of the police—nothing was going to keep her from solving this case!

She laid the Spotless sample and the card on a living-room table, then called out, “Hannah, I’m home!” As she opened the door to the kitchen, she added, “Something smells wonderful!”

“It’s one of your favorites—beef stew,” Hannah Gruen said. “And, yes, you have time to check your phone messages before dinner.”

Nancy’s eyes widened. “How did you know I was going to ask that?”

Hannah just laughed. “I know you. Besides,” she added, “I heard your phone ring a couple of times this afternoon.”