Don’t Look Twice (8 page)

With so many skilled people to help, a lot had
been accomplished in a short time. The hooks were in place for the paintings, the lights had been moved to the appropriate places on the walls, the floors had been swept clean, and the crates were stacked, ready to be stored. All the room needed were the paintings themselves.

“I was telling George that I can get my hands on four more tickets to the opening gala tonight,” Nella told Nancy. “Are you interested?”

Nancy thought for a moment. There was a good chance Tim Raphael would come, since his sister had helped put the show together. She definitely wanted to talk to him.

“Okay,” she said, “but I don't have anything fancy to wear, and I'll bet Ned doesn't— Ned!” Suddenly Nancy remembered that she had agreed to call him at noon. It was well past that now.

She found a pay phone and dug the piece of paper with the dorm's phone number out of her pocket. Ned answered on the first ring.

“Nancy! I've been waiting to hear from you. Did you find out anything?”

Nancy was glad to hear his voice. “Lots,” she replied. “But it doesn't seem to be adding up to much. I'll tell you about it while we're shopping.”

“Shopping? And what is it we're shopping for?” Ned asked, laughing.

“Something great for you, me, George, and
Dave to wear tonight.” Nancy smiled into the phone. “We're going to an art opening.”

• • •

An hour later the foursome made a mad dash through the stores at Water Tower Place, an elegant mall on Chicago's Magnificent Mile. Nancy found a teal jersey dress that brought out the blue of her eyes. George settled on a red bolero jacket and matching pants.

Both boys had dress slacks and blazers with them for the weekend. Nancy convinced Ned to buy a wild tie, though. There would be a lot of artsy people at the opening, and a new tie would fit the mood better than the conservative ones he usually wore.

Dave and George were in a music store, looking at the new CDs. Nancy and Ned sat down on a polished wood bench to rest.

Nancy smiled at her boyfriend. This was the first time they had been alone since she had arrived. She thought of the heart-shaped stone, in her black jeans pocket back at the Sampsons'. Too bad she didn't have it for him now!

But on second thought, this didn't appear to be the right time to give it to Ned, anyway. He seemed to be a million miles away.

“What are you thinking?” Nancy asked him.

Ned started. “Sorry. I was just wondering if Denise is really okay.” Nancy had brought him and Dave up to date in the car on the way over.

Nancy didn't say anything. She knew what
Ned had just said shouldn't bother her. She was worried about Denise, too. But Ned's concern for the cheerleader rekindled the little spark of jealousy inside her.

Out of the corner of her eye, Nancy saw someone she knew. She turned around. A black-haired young man wearing an Eagles basketball jacket was scurrying down the pavilion. Tim!

Nancy jumped up. “I'll be right back,” she threw over her shoulder, taking off after Tim.

She caught up with him in a candy store. He was standing behind a huge Valentine's Day display of giant chocolate hearts. He was trying hard to look nonchalant, but the intent way he was studying the ingredients of a box full of assorted creams gave him away.

“Tim,” Nancy said. “We meet again.”

Tim focused on her and smiled sheepishly. Nancy fumbled for something to say. She didn't think that confronting him directly would work. She had no hard evidence linking him to her kidnapping. He just always seemed to be around—in the wrong place at the right time.

“How's your hand?” Nancy finally asked.

“Huh? Oh, you mean from when I cut it? It's fine, thanks.”

“Good. You know, I met someone named Martha Raphael down at the Amster Gallery.”

“Yeah, that's my sister,” Tim replied, sounding surprised.

“Was she at Puccini's last night?” Nancy asked casually.

“No, she had to work late at the gallery. She was supposed to come and help out with that fake kidnapping of one of her friends.” Tim darted a quick look at Nancy from under his black lashes. “I guess they blew it and got you instead, huh?”

“It was a fake kidnapping?” Nancy's heart beat a little faster, but she tried to act casual.

“Yeah, Martha hangs around with this weird crowd. She left a note for me at the game, saying someone was going to be kidnapped from Puccini's to be taken to a surprise party and that I should tell Mario it wasn't for real.”

Nancy was stunned. So
Martha
Raphael was mixed up in this somehow. She had covered her tracks by telling her brother that it was all a joke. Obviously it wasn't. Denise must have been snatched for real. All along, Nancy had thought it was Tim who had been involved, but obviously he wasn't.

“Who did they plan to kidnap?” she asked innocently.

“I don't know—one of Martha's friends, I guess.” Tim didn't sound very interested. Nancy studied him carefully. She was fairly sure he was telling the truth. Then why had he been acting so strangely toward her? And why had he run away from Puccini's earlier?

There was only one way she could think of to find out. Nancy asked him point-blank.

To her surprise, Tim turned beet red. He scrutinized his toes. “I felt stupid,” he muttered. “I left Puccini's because I didn't want you to know I had anything to do with the kidnapping thing. I figured you'd think I was either a creep or an idiot for going along with it.”

Suddenly Nancy realized why Tim was acting so weird. He had a crush on her!

Nancy was oddly touched. She laid a hand on his arm. “I wouldn't have thought that,” she told him sincerely. “I don't think so now, either.”

Tim's face was transformed by a swift, dazzling smile. Then he blushed again.

“Um, I was wondering if maybe you'd want to go out sometime. I mean, I know you have a boyfriend. I just mean, you know, as friends. We could just, you know . . .”

Nancy couldn't keep from smiling. It had been a while since she'd made a guy that nervous! She didn't mind the attention, either.

“Are you going to the opening tonight?” she asked, evading his invitation. She didn't want to hurt his feelings. “We'll be there.”

“Yeah, I guess I'm going,” Tim said. “It'll make my sister happy.”

Nancy nodded, abruptly coming back to the case. She had a question or two for Martha, and the gallery opening would be a perfect place to
get some answers. But first she wanted to talk over this new development with Ned. She quickly said goodbye to Tim and went back to where she had left him.

George and Dave had joined Ned on the bench. They were talking about the game again, arguing good-naturedly about the players.

“Where did you go?” asked Ned. “I was starting to think you'd been kidnapped again.”

Nancy quickly told them about her conversation with Tim. The foursome decided to get a soda and talk over their plan of attack.

Seated in one of the casual restaurants, they sipped sodas and nibbled on french fries. There were beach umbrellas poking through each little white table. Nancy felt as if they had just entered a time warp into summer. Wouldn't that be great! Ned would be home, and everything would be perfect.

Sighing, Nancy roused herself from her private thoughts. First she had a case to solve, she reminded herself.

“Why would Martha Raphael want to kidnap Denise?” George asked incredulously. “I don't get it.”

“I don't think we can get at the why yet, George,” Nancy said slowly. “We don't know enough. I'm beginning to think this case has nothing to do with the basketball tournament, though.”

“Do you think Mr. Mason knows what Martha's up to?” Dave asked.

“No,” Nancy said after a moment. “He didn't behave oddly toward her at all, as far as I could tell.”

“Do you think Denise knows? Tell me again what she said to you over the phone,” Ned suggested. “Maybe there's some clue we missed.”

Nancy concentrated. “Well, she said she was fine and that she was at her grandmother's. And then she said, ‘Tell Ned I'll see him at the big rally on Monday.' ”

“Nan,” Ned said slowly. “You didn't tell me that part before. There is no rally on Monday.”

Silence fell on the little group. “She must have been trying to tell us that she was in trouble,” George said at last. “I can't believe you forgot about that, Nancy.”

Nancy could hardly believe it herself. She swirled the dregs of her soda around in her cup, trying hard not to meet Ned's gaze.

How could she have forgotten that part of Denise's message? Nancy asked herself. At the time she had dismissed it as unimportant. But looking back now, she remembered feeling a twinge of jealousy that Denise had wanted to send a special message to Ned. Did I deliberately not tell him about it? Nancy had to wonder.

She took a deep breath. Denise was really in trouble, and it was up to Nancy to try to get her
out of it. Even if she thought Denise was trying to steal her boyfriend from her, she just couldn't sit by. Even if Ned was willing to be stolen, she told herself, pushing down the lump in her throat.

Yes, Nancy had to find Denise—even if finding her meant losing Ned!

D
O YOU HAVE ANY
eyeliner?” George asked Nancy's reflection in the mirror. It was an hour before the gala, and they were both wearing their new clothes.

“Check in my makeup bag. It's on the bed.”

Nancy was putting on her lipstick when Nella popped in. “I need to make an early appearance, so I'll meet you two over there, okay?”

Nancy hadn't told Nella about Martha. Nella was still under the impression that Denise wasn't missing at all, and Nancy didn't want to ruin her hostess's evening by telling her the grim news. Besides, four snoops at one party was enough. She didn't want Martha to get suspicious.

“How do I look?” asked George. Nancy turned around.

“George, you look amazing.” It was true. The short bolero jacket and tailored pants showed off George's long, slim figure. She was wearing just a touch of makeup. But the clothes and the makeup really didn't matter as much as the radiant glow of excitement in George's eyes. George would have been great in jeans and a T-shirt right then.

Nancy snapped her makeup case shut and looked at herself in the mirror. A less-than-happy detective stared back. She needed answers—fast.

The two girls drove over to Harrigan House, where Ned and Dave were waiting to be picked up. On the ride to the gallery Nancy coached them about what to look for at the party.

“Because we believe there's a connection between Martha Raphael and Denise's kidnapping, we should all be aware of who Martha talks to at the party,” she advised the others. “Also, keep an eye on Mr. Mason,” she added. “The kidnappers might send him another message or phone call.”

A few minutes later they pulled into the circular drive in front of the gallery. Car after car was lined up. Stylishly dressed men and women poured in through the front doors as a team of valets parked cars. Nancy turned her keys over to one of the valets, and then the four friends went into the mansion.

The entry hall was packed with people chattering and checking their coats.

“Can I help you?” asked a woman with thick,
black-rimmed glasses and bright red lipstick. She was sitting at a small wooden table with a computer printout of names in front of her. She stared up expectantly at Nancy.

“Nancy Drew, plus three,” Nancy said.

The woman ticked Nancy's name off the list and smiled. “Feel free to check your coats. There's a buffet table set up in the dining room. Enjoy the show.”

Ned took their coats, and Nancy, George, and Dave climbed the staircase to the second floor.

The place was blazing with light. A woodwind quartet sat off in one corner of the ballroom, filling it with reedy sound. People were standing in small clusters around the rooms, admiring the paintings or chatting with one another. From the snatches of conversation that Nancy caught, most of the guests seemed more interested in gossip than in the art on the walls.

There was a wide range of ages and types of dress at the party. Some women wore sequined evening gowns, while others wore more casual dresses or pants. Nancy spotted several gray-haired men in tuxedos, but most of the younger men were dressed less formally. George pointed out one guy in a white dinner jacket and bow tie—and a pair of red high-top sneakers.

George and Dave went to hit the buffet. Left by herself, Nancy scanned the room quickly. Neither Martha nor Mr. Mason was in sight. Nancy's
eye was caught by one of the paintings, though, a portrait of a boy sitting in a velvet chair.

If she wasn't mistaken, that was the painting Martha had tried to hide that morning. Why? Nancy wondered again. What was so special about it?