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Authors: Carolyn Keene

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“Ouch!” She couldn't suppress a groan as a sharp pain shot through her left ankle.

She must have sprained it, she realized. But that wasn't her biggest worry. Something about the way that rock had fallen wasn't right. From what she could see, the rocks in that wall were cemented together. How could one of them have come loose and fallen?

Gritting her teeth, Nancy limped slowly along the sand until she reached the steps leading to the road above. Then she hobbled along the road to the part of the wall where the boulder had fallen. There was no missing the three-foot gap in the wall.

She tested the stones on either side of the gap. The cement around them was crumbling a little, but the stones were basically secure. Nancy was sure they wouldn't fall on their own. Bending closer, she spotted small grooves in the cement surrounding the space where the fallen rock had been. It looked as if something had been used to pry the fallen boulder loose. Someone had purposely pushed the rock toward her!

Nancy felt sick thinking of what might have happened. The person who had called had set her up!

Keeping her weight off her left foot, Nancy peered down at the handful of people on the
beach below. Was one of them the caller who had set her up? Nancy didn't see anyone who looked familiar.

By now her ankle was throbbing. She groaned slightly as she started making her way back to the inn. When she got back to her room Bess and George were sitting across from each other on the twin beds.

“Nancy, you're limping!” Bess cried, jumping up and hurrying over to Nancy. “And you're covered with scrapes! What happened?”

Bess helped Nancy to her bed while George ran to the bathroom to get a washcloth.

“I'm sure it looks worse than it is,” Nancy assured her friends. “Thanks,” she said, taking the washcloth George handed her. While she cleaned up the scratches on her legs she explained what had happened at the beach.

“I don't believe it!” Bess exclaimed, looking outraged. “The person who called wanted to hurt you!”

“And it looks like whoever it was succeeded,” George added grimly. She wrapped some ice in a towel and placed it on Nancy's ankle. She gingerly probed the swollen area, causing Nancy to flinch. “I think we'd better take you to the hospital, Nan.”

• • •

“Are you sure you feel well enough to stop by Marcia's store?” George asked Nancy an hour and a half later.

The two girls were sitting in the front seat of the rental car, which was parked in front of a pharmacy. Bess was inside getting the pain medication that the doctor had prescribed for Nancy's ankle.

“Positive,” Nancy assured George. “The doctor said it's only a sprain. I promise I'll rest as soon as we get back to the inn.”

George didn't look totally convinced, but she smiled and said, “I guess I should know by now that nothing keeps you off a case once you're hooked. By the way,” she said, changing the subject, “I talked to Bess. I'm not sure she's as happy with the idea of moving to Carmel as she's trying to make us believe.”

“Really? What makes you say that?” Nancy asked.

George stared out the front windshield. “It wasn't anything specific that she said—it was only hints,” she explained. “I got the distinct impression that Ted has rushed her into a decision.”

“If she's only staying because Ted is pressuring her to”—Nancy frowned—“there's no way we can let that happen.”

“It's
her
decision, though,” George said glumly. “I just hope that she decides to do what's best for her—not what's best for Ted.”

Bess pulled open the back door of the car. “I got the medication,” she announced, handing the
small white bag to Nancy. “Let's head back to the inn so you can get some R and R.”

“Detective Drew wants to make a pit stop first,” George said, flicking a thumb at Nancy. “Marcia Cheung's store.” Bess opened her mouth to object, but George cut her off. “I already tried to talk her out of it. No go.”

Fifteen minutes later George pulled up in front of the jewelry shop. “The Closed sign is still in the window,” she commented.

Nancy frowned. “Let's stop in at the Café de Carmel,” she suggested. “Maybe Ted has spoken to Marcia or Len. Besides, we can get something to eat and take it back to the Provence Inn with us.”

“Good idea,” George agreed. “I don't think you should take that pain medicine on an empty stomach, Nancy.”

“I don't see any parking spots,” Bess said, scanning the street. “Why don't you two get out here? I'll park the car and meet you, and, Nancy,” she added, pointing a warning finger at her, “be sure to keep that ankle up on a chair or something.”

“Aye, aye, chief,” Nancy said, laughing.

George set the parking brake, and she and Nancy got out while Bess scooted around to the driver's side.

The doctor had taped her ankle, so it didn't hurt too much as Nancy limped across the street and into the Café de Carmel. No sooner did she
and George push through the front door than Ted hurried over.

“I've been calling everywhere for you guys!” he said. He looked so worried that all of his earlier moodiness had disappeared.

“Why? What happened?” Nancy wanted to know.

“The police came to the jewelry shop and took Marcia in for questioning about Joanna Burton's murder!” Ted said.

“Oh, no. When did this happen?” Nancy asked. She grimaced as a twinge of pain shot through her ankle. Limping over to the nearest table, she sat down and propped her foot up on another chair.

“They left about an hour ago, not too long after Marcia reopened her store,” Ted replied. “She called me because she couldn't find Len. Shouldn't we do something?” he asked.

“Does she have a lawyer?” George asked, taking the seat beside Nancy.

“I don't know. I guess she called one.” Ted also sat down momentarily, then looked up suddenly. “Where's Bess?” he asked.

“She's looking for a parking spot,” Nancy told him.

Just then the door to the restaurant opened again. Nancy, expecting Bess, was surprised to see Len.

“Does anyone know where Marcia is?” he asked from the doorway.

Ted glanced at Nancy and George before answering. “She's at the police station, being questioned about Joanna Burton's murder,” he finally told Len.

Len's mouth fell open. He stepped the rest of the way inside the restaurant, letting the door slam behind him. “How could this happen?” he finally asked. “I have to get down to the station!”

“Wait a minute, Len,” Nancy said. She wasn't going to let him leave before he answered a few questions. “I think you have some explaining to do.”

“Nancy and I saw you this morning right after you left Joanna Burton's,” George added. “We were in that car you almost ran off the road.”

“What are you talking about?” Len said. “I wasn't at Joanna Burton's this morning.”

“We saw you in your truck, barreling around the curve just beyond Miss Burton's driveway. I almost went over the cliff edge getting out of your way.”

Len shook his head. “I've never been to Joanna Burton's house, ever.”

He looked so sincere and confused that Nancy almost believed him. Still, she and George had seen him.

“Do you have a pine tree logo painted on the side of your truck—one with branches that look like waves?” George asked impatiently.

Len nodded. “Yeah. So?”

“Were you driving it on the Seventeen-Mile Drive this morning?” Nancy asked.

Len nodded again. He still was looking at Nancy as though she were crazy.

“Well, if you were up there and you
weren't
at Joanna Burton's house, I'd like to know why you were driving like a maniac.”

“Stop bothering Len!” a woman's voice spoke up from the doorway of the restaurant.

Marcia Cheung was standing just inside the door, a dark, unreadable expression on her face.

Len hurried to Marcia's side, drawing her close. “Are you all right? What happened?”

Without answering his questions Marcia turned to face the others. “Len wasn't at Joanna Burton's this morning,” she said firmly.

“But how can you be sure?” Bess asked hesitantly.

Marcia locked eyes with her fiancé, then replied, “I know because
I
was there.”

Chapter

Twelve

N
ANCY
'
S MOUTH
fell open. “What!” Gazing around the table, she saw that everyone looked as shocked as she felt. “But this morning you said you
weren't
at Joanna Burton's house.”

Marcia didn't say anything right away. Pulling up a chair from a neighboring table, she sat down. Len stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders.

Taking a deep breath, Marcia said, “Actually, I wasn't
at
Miss Burton's house. I was just nearby.”

“Whoa!” George said, holding up a hand. “I'm totally confused. Maybe you'd better start at the beginning.”

“Let me get everyone something to drink,” Ted offered. He headed into the kitchen.

Marcia turned her head to look up at Len. “I
guess the story starts with me,” he said. “I had an appointment with a client on the Seventeen-Mile Drive this morning.”

“Mrs. Kohler lives right next to Joanna Burton,” Marcia put in.

“Yeah. So anyway, she told me she wanted an estimate on lawn service,” Len went on. “But when I got there, she wanted to talk about her flower beds, too.” Len rolled his eyes. “The appointment took much longer than I'd anticipated, and I had another client scheduled at ten.”

“Len was rushing to make that second appointment when you saw him.” Marcia took over the explanation. She paused as Ted returned with a trayful of glasses filled with iced tea. She took the ¿ass he offered her and sipped it gratefully.

Nancy shot Marcia a questioning look. “But what were
you
doing there?” she asked.

“I was worried about what Len might do.” Marcia reached up and put her hand over Len's. “He kept saying that if he could talk to Joanna Burton, he would be able to straighten out the whole diamond mess. I told him to leave everything to you, but Len doesn't always listen.

“This morning we went to our store early, but Len didn't stay long,” Marcia said, continuing her story. “He said he had lots of things to do, and he was acting a little agitated. I was afraid he was going to visit Miss Burton, so as soon as he left I decided to follow him.”

“This sounds just like a spy movie,” Ted
commented, shaking his head. He stood next to Len, his gaze darting to the waitresses every once in a while to make sure they were handling the customers.

Marcia smiled wryly. “I had to stop at the gate to the Seventeen-Mile Drive to pay, and I lost Len for a while. He has a special sticker so he can go on through.”

“What kind of sticker?” George interrupted.

“People who go in and out on business can pay a flat fee to get a sticker instead of forking over the regular fee each time. If I had to pay each time I visited a client on the drive, it would run my business costs sky-high,” Len explained.

Nancy was dying to hear the rest of the story. “Then what happened?” she urged.

“When I saw Len's truck again, it was parked by the side of the road right by Joanna Burton's house,” Marcia explained. “I didn't know what to do. I ended up pulling into a nearby overlook and waiting. I finally got out of the car and started walking toward the house—”

Marcia broke off as the door to the restaurant burst open and Bess came flying in. “I had to park way down the hill,” Bess said. “You guys need to do something about the parking around here.”

“Bess, sit down and be quiet,” Ted said. “Marcia is trying to tell us something.”

Bess almost sputtered as she pulled up a chair and sat down between George and Nancy.

“I saw Len next to his truck,” Marcia went on. “He couldn't even get the key in the lock, he was so upset. He finally did unlock the door, then he got in and made a U-turn. He drove right by me and didn't even notice.”

“Nancy and I must have arrived right after that,” George put in, crunching down on an ice cube.

Marcia nodded. “I had just gotten into my car and was about to follow Len when you guys pulled into the overlook. I didn't want to have to answer any questions about why I was there until I talked to Len, so I ducked down in my seat.”

“And by the time we left, Len was already out of sight,” Nancy guessed. Some of the pieces of this puzzle were starting to fit together, but she wanted to hear the rest of what Marcia had to say.

“That's right,” Marcia said. “I decided to go back to the shop to wait for him. Then you came by and told me Joanna was dead. What could I think?” Marcia looked up at Len apologetically.

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