Fatal Attraction (11 page)

“I'm awake,” Nancy said. “Whether I'm okay is still a big question mark.” Slowly, she moved one arm, then the other, then both legs. “Well, at least I can move everything.”

“Thank heaven,” Ned said fervently. He bent forward and kissed her. “Oh, Nancy, what would I do if anything happened to you?”

“But nothing
has
happened—nothing permanent, that is.” Nancy struggled to sit up. She put her fingers to her forehead, where she felt a giant lump. “When did you get here?”

Ned propped the pillows at her back. “Hannah called about nine, and I got here about eleven-thirty. I think I set a land speed record on the interstate.”

“Hannah called you?”

“Right. The hospital phoned her to find your family. Since your dad wasn't in town and her car was in the shop, she called me. The doctor said you'd just suffered a mild concussion when you hit your head. You were really lucky. From what they told me, it sounds like somebody tried to kill you.”

“Better not move around, young lady,” a nurse said briskly, coming in with a breakfast tray.

“But I've got to get out of here,” Nancy exclaimed, suddenly remembering everything.
She pulled at Ned's hand. “We've got to get back to River Heights, Ned! Brenda's in real danger!”

The nurse put the tray on the table at the foot of the bed and pushed it toward Nancy. “Not so fast,” she said. “You're not going
anywhere
until the doctor says so. Since it's Saturday, he won't start his rounds for a couple of hours yet.”

“A couple of hours!” Nancy moaned. “By then it could all be over!”

“It might be over sooner than that if you don't relax,” the nurse warned with a smile.

“Calm down, Nancy,” Ned said gently. “You'll think better after you eat.” When the nurse had left the room, he added, “How about filling me in on everything—from the beginning?”

By the time Nancy had finished breakfast, she had sketched out the events of the day before, beginning with her discussion with Chief Saunders and ending with her unexpected side trip into the cornfield. “The thing I can't figure out,” she added, “is how Felix knew I was in Batesville. Unless—” She tried to think, but her head was still aching and it was hard to concentrate.

The door opened. “Good morning, Miss Drew.” It was Chief Saunders, in uniform. He took off his brown hat and glanced at Ned. “I'd like to talk to this young lady alone, if you don't mind.”

“
I
mind,” Nancy told him. “Ned's staying.”

The chief shrugged. “Have it your way,” he said, watching her with his cold blue eyes. “Are you ready to answer a few questions? I want to know why you went out to the DeCamp place and bothered Mr. and Mrs. DeCamp.”

“I needed to know how Darla DeCamp had died.”

“And what did you find out?”

“That her skull was fractured, and that she died from drowning.”

“And what else?”

“That her parents think that she was murdered—by a guy calling himself Pete Mitchell.”

“And you think you know where this Pete Mitchell can be found?”

Nancy folded her arms across her chest. “I thought you weren't interested,” she said cagily.

“I
am
interested,” the chief said. “I'm going to put my deputy on this case, and I want you
out
of it.”

“No way,” Nancy said in a low, firm tone. “I have a client's interests to protect, and I have absolutely no intention of getting off this case.”

“Miss Drew,” the chief said, leaning forward and fixing his eyes on hers, “do you know what a material witness is?”

Wordlessly, Nancy nodded.

“If you don't swear that you'll get off this case, I am going to lock you up. As a material witness to the death of Darla DeCamp.”

Nancy looked at him calmly. “I think my father might have something to say about—”

The phone rang. Ned reached for it, spoke into it briefly, and then handed it to Nancy. “It's for you,” he said with a glance at Chief Saunders. “It's Dirk Bowman.”

“Who's that?” the chief snapped.

“Dirk Bowman is a Fort Lauderdale detective,” Nancy said coldly. “He's assisting me on this case. If you don't let me talk to him, he's going to know that something very odd is going on here.”

The chief frowned, his ruddy forehead wrinkling. “Well, okay,” he growled. “I guess you can take the call. But I'm going down to the nurses' station and listen in.”

“Suit yourself.” Nancy took the phone from Ned as the chief hurried out of the room.

“Nancy?” Dirk asked. His voice was worried. “You okay?”

Nancy laughed ruefully. “Just a little the worse for wear,” she said. “But I'm going to be out of here shortly. How'd you track me down?”

“Your housekeeper told me you'd been in an accident and that I could reach you at the Batesville hospital. Listen, detective, I've got a make on that print you sent me.”

Nancy sat up straighter. “Oh, yes? What did you find out, Dirk?”

“The print doesn't belong to your boy, after all.”

“Too bad,” Nancy muttered. “Now we'll never find out who—”

“Hang on a sec,” Dirk interrupted. “The print belongs to somebody named Felix Frankson.” His voice was grave. “Frankson is an escaped murderer, Nancy. He's wanted by the FBI!”

W
OW
!” N
ED WHISTLED
shrilly when Nancy hung up the phone and told him what Dirk had said. “It sounds like this man Frankson has a lot on the line. No wonder he was willing to go after you!”

The door opened and Chief Saunders came in without knocking, his hat in his hand. He stood for a minute in the door, looking at Nancy, his blue eyes carefully guarded.

“All right,” he said finally, “I've decided to let you go. Whenever the doctor releases you, you can leave.”

Nancy nodded. “Did you hear what Dirk Bowman told me?”

“I heard,” the chief said. “I aim to get on this in a hurry.” He glared at Nancy. “And I don't want you to try to pull any funny stuff. This is serious business—
police
business. I don't need any kids messing things up.” He jammed his hat on his head. “You stay out, you hear? I won't be responsible if you get yourself hurt again.”

“Listen, Ned,” Nancy said urgently as soon as the chief had left the room. “Mr. Carlton ought to know what's going on. There's no proof, but it looks as if Felix and Mike killed Darla. Brenda could be next. Let's call him at home.” She picked up the phone and began to dial.

“Isn't it risky calling the house?” Ned asked. “Brenda might answer.”

“You're right,” Nancy said. “But it's Saturday, so Mr. Carlton won't be at the office. If Brenda answers, I'll hang up.”

But it was the Carlton maid who answered the phone and told them that Mr. Carlton was still out of town. “He's not expected back until later today,” she said. “Is there any message?”

Nancy bit her lip, frowning. “No, no message,” she said. She had to talk to Mr. Carlton himself.

“The next step,” she told Ned as she hung up the phone, “is getting out of this hospital.”

“You're
sure
you're okay?” Ned asked. Nancy
could see the worry in his eyes, and she squeezed his hand. It was wonderful to know that Ned cared for her.

“I'm sure,” she said confidently. “All we have to do is to convince the doctor.”

That was harder than Nancy thought. The doctor came in with an X ray in his hand to tell her that she could go home the next day.

“Tomorrow!” Nancy exclaimed. “That's just not possible. And anyway,” she fibbed, “once I get home I'll go straight to bed.”

The doctor held up the X ray and looked at it for a long time. Finally he said, “Well, I guess I don't see any real damage. If you'll promise to get plenty of rest, you can go.”

“I promise,” Nancy said. She
would
get some rest, she told herself, except that it probably wouldn't be right away.

Ned and Nancy drove back to River Heights in Ned's car, leaving Nancy's Mustang in the Ford shop in Batesville for repairs to its front end. On the trip back, Nancy tried to puzzle out the complicated relationships in this case, but after a while she dozed a little, still feeling the effects of the bump on her head.

“Wake up, Nancy,” Ned said, shaking her gently. “We're home.”

Nancy stretched and blinked, looking at her watch. “It's five. Let's call Mr. Carlton.”

But Mr. Carlton was calling
her,
as Nancy discovered the minute she came in the door.

“Nancy, are you okay?” Hannah demanded. She was in the hall, the phone in one hand.

“I'm fine,” Nancy said. She nodded at the phone. “Is that for me?”

“It's Mr. Carlton. But shouldn't I tell him that you can't . . . ?”

Nancy shook her head. “This is
important
,” she said. “Mr. Carlton? We have to get together, right away. I've got something very important—”

“I do too,” Mr. Carlton said grimly. “Do you know the park on Allegheny Avenue? Meet me there in fifteen minutes—at five-thirty.”

“Actually, I'm not supposed to move around a lot,” said Nancy. “Can you possibly come here?”

“Are you all right?” Mr. Carlton asked anxiously.

“I had a little car accident,” Nancy told him. She decided not to get into the attempt on her life. Mr. Carlton was upset enough as it was.

“I'll be right over,” Mr. Carlton promised.

Nancy hung up. “He's on his way,” she said to Hannah and Ned. “Now I'd better call George and Bess. I may need them tonight.”

• • •

When Mr. Carlton arrived, he seemed nervous and preoccupied.

“Is Brenda okay?” Nancy asked.

“Brenda was fine when I left,” Mr. Carlton said. “But I think I've just blown everything.”

Nancy stared at him. “Blown it?”

“I just got back forty minutes ago. There was a call waiting for me when I walked in, from a man who said he was a friend of Mike McKeever's.”

“It must have been Felix!” Nancy exclaimed.

Mr. Carlton shrugged. His eyebrows were drawn together in an angry line and his mouth was tight. “He didn't say his name. But he
did
say that he knew about McKeever and my daughter, and he could fix it—for a price. A
big
price.” He looked down. “That's when I blew it.”

“How? What did you say?”

“I lost my temper when the guy started talking money. I told him what he could do with his offer.” He swallowed, the worry beginning to displace the anger in his eyes. “What's worse, I told him that I'd hired somebody to expose his fraud. I told him that we had enough to put him and his partner away for a long time.”

Nancy stared at him in consternation. After a minute, she said, “Well, it's too late now to wish things had been done differently. But now that Mike and Felix have been spooked, we're going to have to act fast.” She quickly sketched what
she had found out about Mike's relationship with Darla DeCamp and Felix's criminal record.

“Their last victim wound up dead,” she concluded. “I think Brenda risks death every minute she spends with Mike.”

“I agree,” Mr. Carlton said bleakly. “What are you recommending?”

Nancy thought fast. “It's time that we got the River Heights police into the act. Sergeant Tom Robinson is a friend of Dad's. He's helped me out on a couple of other cases. And it's time to confront Brenda with the truth, don't you think?”

Mr. Carlton grimaced. “I suspect that's going to be harder than collaring those crooks.”

“But just as necessary,” Nancy reminded him.

“Right,” he said. “When I left, she was just getting home. We can talk to Brenda, and then you can call your friend on the police force. Are you up to coming with me?”

“I think I can manage—with Ned's help.”

Ned and Nancy followed Mr. Carlton as he wound through River Heights' most posh neighborhood, enormous houses set well back from the street behind spacious sweeps of green lawn. The Carlton house itself was a mansion with white plantation-style columns.

“Brenda!” Mr. Carlton shouted as they came
into the front hallway. “Brenda, where are you? I need to talk to you.”

There was no answer.

“Brenda!” Mr. Carlton shouted. He took the stairs two at a time, with Nancy and Ned right behind. Upstairs, Brenda's room was to the left. It was a huge room, with French doors that opened onto a private balcony. The bed was heaped with clothes. Brenda's dressing table, littered with makeup, stood in one corner.

Nancy went to the dressing table. There was a note taped to the mirror. She handed it to Mr. Carlton. As he read it, Nancy saw his face go white.