Deadly Doubles (12 page)

Nancy did not risk the split-second to look for the location of the gun barrel.

“Dad! Get down!”
she screamed.

Chapter Eighteen

C
OMMUNICATION BETWEEN THE
Drews was as good as always. Instantly Carson Drew threw himself forward, directly against Senator Kilpatrick. He knocked her to the ground and rolled with her beneath the table just as the shots rang out.

The bullets hit the crystal goblets on the table. They gave a high musical ping as they shattered.

Somebody screamed.

Within seconds police were everywhere. But the room was shadowy. As police raced in the direction from which the shots had come, Nancy saw a dark figure leap away.

“Dan!” Nancy grabbed his arm.

As Dan swung around, the figure came running straight toward Nancy. The gun was still in his hand. Suddenly, it swung down toward her.

On a table beside Nancy was a vase of red roses. Almost of its own volition, Nancy’s hand snatched up the vase and flung it into the assassin’s face.

The gun fired upward, exploding crystal drops of a chandelier. At the same moment, Dan leaped forward in a flying tackle.

Soon four burly policemen were cuffing the assassin and reading him his rights. The crimson splotches on the carpet were rose petals, not blood.

Nancy ran into her father’s arms.

That night, a jubilant party gathered in Senator Kilpatrick’s box to watch Teresa Montenegro’s triumphant victory in the International Semi-Pro Women’s Tennis Tournament. They had kept their excitement under control during the earlier part of the day, in deference to Teresa’s feelings. But now, with Teresa on the court playing her heart out, it could break free.

“At least I arrived in time for the celebrating,” Ned Nickerson said, hugging Nancy as Teresa prepared for her last game. “I wish I could have helped you out earlier.”

“It helps having you here right now,” Nancy said happily. “I’m so glad you came. It’s not just anyone who would fly all the way to D.C. just for a tennis match.”

Ned had phoned as soon as Senator Kilpatrick’s delayed press conference had gone off the air. The senator, visibly shaken but resolute, had told the world the full story of how Nancy Drew had saved her life at the Hay-Adams Hotel. She had also announced that thanks to Nancy’s quick thinking and the fine cooperation of various federal and local law-enforcement agencies, the notorious hired killer, El Morro, had been arrested.

Several lesser terrorists had also been caught up in the federal agents’ sweep of various American cities. The U.S. government and the vast majority of people in San Carlos were jubilant. The San Carlos dictator had fled to someplace unknown in South America.

Bess, snuggling in Dan’s arms, caught Nancy’s eye and giggled. “Everything’s working out well for everybody,” she said contentedly. “Did you hear that Dan’s leaving the police and taking a permanent job on Senator Kilpatrick’s staff? He’ll
have
to spend a lot of time back in our home state now!”

“We’ve heard about it three times in the past hour,” George said, grinning.

“Even Seńora Ramirez has gotten what she deserved,” Bess continued happily. Teresa’s chaperon was being extradited to San Carlos, where the new provisional government would investigate her strong ties to the former dictator.

“But not everything has worked out,” Nancy added, her face growing sober. Involuntarily her eyes went toward the tennis court. As far as the cheering crowd knew, Teresa Montenegro, about to win the tournament with one of her sizzling backhand returns, was on top of the world. But there were so many things the crowd didn’t know.

“I should have suspected something,” Teresa said to Nancy quietly when they were finally alone together in the locker room. “There was always a part of Roberto that was unreachable. A side of him I didn’t understand. I told myself it was because I was still so young. Now I see that he wanted to protect me by not letting me know too much.”

She glanced at Nancy, then away. “He
must
have been committed to the revolution, you know. That was why he did what he did. He must have thought that if an American senator was assassinated by orders of the dictator, then the U.S. government would
have
to come in on the rebels’ side.”

Nancy didn’t answer. She was afraid Roberto’s reasons had not been so noble. There had been large amounts of money found among his things at the hotel. That was one of the things Senator Kilpatrick had not announced and Teresa didn’t know about. Apparently Roberto really had been acting as a double agent. It still wasn’t clear whether he had been murdered on orders of the dictator or of the rebels.

“But he did protect you,” Nancy said gently.

“Yes, and so did you,” Teresa replied gravely. “I hope we shall be friends for a long time.”

That was another thing Senator Kilpatrick had not yet announced. Thanks to fast action by her, with help from Carson Drew, Teresa had been granted asylum in the United States.

George came into the locker room. “Hey, you guys, haven’t you gotten your stories straight yet? The press is waiting, and so’s the senator.”

“Coming.” Teresa gave her hair a quick shake into place and went out to meet her public, her head high.

Appropriately, Teresa’s press conference was held at a table in the Hollins Gymnasium, right under an American flag. Almost immediately, a reporter asked Teresa what her plans were, since civil war had broken out in her country.

Teresa glanced at Senator Kilpatrick, who stepped to the microphone. “I’m happy to announce that Teresa Montenegro has requested and been granted U.S. asylum. She will enter professional tennis in a few months—as an American player! America can be very proud to have her.”

“What about your San Carlos coach who was murdered?” a reporter shouted. “He was more than just your coach, wasn’t he?”

Everyone around Teresa stiffened. But Teresa’s head was high. “He was my good friend. I am . . . honored . . . to have had him as my coach, my friend. And to have these new friends who are here with me.”

Her eyes traveled around the circle—the senator, Carson Drew, Dan and Bess, George. Last of all, Nancy, whose hand was linked with Ned’s. Their eyes met. Nancy knew that Teresa’s mind, like hers, was whirling back over the terror-filled events of the past few days.

“I am very lucky just to be alive,” Teresa said simply. “And that is due most of all to my friend, the—what do you call it? Superstar? The superstar detective, Nancy Drew!”