Fatal Attraction (8 page)

Nancy took the phone. “I'm glad you called,
Mr. Carlton,” she said. “I've got some important information to share with—”

“That'll have to wait,” Mr. Carlton snapped. “This is an emergency.”

“But I need to tell you about—”

“Tell me later. I want you to get out to Flannagan's Farm tonight. I've just overheard Brenda talking to Mike on the phone. Apparently, he asked her to meet him out there, at ten o'clock tonight—alone. I don't want her out there with him all by herself.”

Nancy nodded. “Yes, I understand,” she said quickly. “It
wouldn't
be a good idea to leave them alone. We'll keep an eye on them all evening. If you want, we'll even put a watch on Mike for the next few days to be sure that Brenda's safe. But I think you ought to hear what I found out today in—”

“I'd like to hear what you've learned, Miss Drew, but I just don't have the time. I've been called out of town for a couple of days on a
very
important business matter. My pilot's taking off in twenty minutes.”

Nancy thought. Since Mr. Carlton was leaving, there was no point in telling him about Darla's murder, or the possible payoff Laura's father had made in Silver Hills. “I see,” she said quietly.

“I hate to leave in the middle of this thing with Brenda,” Mr. Carlton was going on. “While I'm gone, it's up to you to keep a close eye on my
daughter. I want her protected, at all costs. And I
don't
want her to know that she's being watched. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Nancy said. Yes, indeed, she thought grimly as she hung up the phone, there
were
certain fundamental similarities between Mr. Carlton and his daughter, especially a tendency to give orders.

“What's up?” Ned asked, finishing his cake.

“We're on night duty,” Nancy told him. “We're baby-sitting Brenda at Flannagan's Farm.”

Bess looked at Nancy curiously. “Why, that old dairy farm's nothing but a few broken-down barns. What's going to happen out there?”

“Nothing,” Nancy replied firmly. “As long as Ned and I are there.”

• • •

At ten o'clock, Nancy and Ned drove down the lane in Nancy's Mustang. They parked out of sight, on a small knoll overlooking the barn lot.

From there, she and Ned could see the overgrown pastures that had once been a working farm. Poor Mr. Flannagan would have hated to see his farm looking like this, she thought. Before he died, it had been a thriving dairy farm, but now the estate was tied up in a family quarrel, and the place was overgrown with weeds, the buildings tumbling down. It was a favorite parking spot for the local teens.

“Your work brings us to the most
romantic
places,” Ned said, glancing out the window. “Look at that moon—and those fireflies.”

But Nancy was too busy to pay attention to the full moon sailing through the clouds overhead or the fireflies dancing fairylike through the trees. She had pulled out a pair of binoculars and was scanning the barn lot.

“What did you bring those for?” Ned asked, sitting up. “You're not going to be able to see anything with them at night, especially with the moon playing hide-and-seek.”

Nancy handed them to him. “They're night-vision binoculars,” she told him. “Extremely powerful ones.”

Ned looked through the binoculars. “They really
are
powerful! I can even read the fine print on that sign over there.”

“Oh, yes?” Nancy asked curiously. “What does it say?”

“No parking,” Ned told her, with a laugh.

Ten minutes later Nancy saw the lights of a car coming down the lane. The single light of a motorcycle bounced after it. It was Brenda and Mike, Nancy saw as the red car drew nearer.

“They're here,” Nancy announced, watching through the binoculars. “Brenda's getting out.”

Ned squinted through the darkness. “I can't see anything. Now what's happening?”

“Mike's parking his motorcycle,” Nancy reported.
“Now he's walking over to her. She's kissing him.”

After a few minutes, Ned asked, “Now what?”

“She's still kissing him,” Nancy reported with a laugh. Suddenly the moon came out from under a cloud and the barn lot filled with silver light. Brenda pulled away from Mike.

“Looks like they're just talking,” Ned said.

“Yeah. But he's got one hand on her arm and the other—” Nancy swallowed. “The other's in his jacket pocket, and he's looking around, as if he wants to be sure that nobody sees them.” She put the binoculars down. “What if he's got a
gun
in his pocket?”

Ned pulled the binoculars away from Nancy and put them to his eyes. “They're walking somewhere,” he said. “Brenda's a step or two ahead, as if she's leading him.”

“Or he's pushing
her,”
Nancy said, the anxiety knotting her stomach.

“It looks like he's taking her into the barn,” Ned said. “Brenda opened a door and they're going inside.”

“That settles it!” Nancy exclaimed. She reached for her small but powerful pocket torch and opened the car door. “Brenda could be in serious danger! Come on! We've got to get closer.”

Together, Nancy and Ned swiftly made their way down from the knoll and ran toward the
barn. They crouched beside the half-open door. The moon had ducked under a cloud and the scene was blanketed in inky darkness.

“I don't hear anything,” Ned whispered into Nancy's ear after a moment.

“I don't either,” Nancy whispered back. “What do you suppose they're doing?”

They were silent for a moment. The only sounds were the chirping of crickets in the grass. Then, suddenly, there was a low, half-strangled cry from somewhere inside the barn, then another.

“It's Brenda!” Nancy whispered, the goose bumps rising on her arms. “She's in trouble. Mike must be after her. Come on—we've got to get in there and help her!”

Quickly, and as silently as she could, Nancy stepped through the dark doorway. The blackness overwhelmed her, and for a minute, she couldn't see anything. Then, as her eyes got used to the dark, she could begin to make out the outlines of two figures, locked in what looked like a desperate struggle.

“They're over there,” Ned whispered, grabbing her arm. “I can just barely see their shadows against the barn wall. It looks like he's got his hands around her throat!”

N
ANCY TRAINED HER
torch on the corner and switched it on. There, in the glare of the light, was Brenda, standing on tiptoe, her arms wound around Mike's neck. She was kissing him passionately, utterly oblivious of anything else.

But when the light hit them, Brenda gasped in surprise. Dropping her arms, she stepped backward, tripped over a bucket, and sat down with a loud
oomph!
in a pile of hay. Mike stood still, shielding his face from the light.

“Who . . . who's there?” Brenda stammered, panic-stricken.

Nancy cleared her throat. “It's . . . it's Nancy
Drew,” she said. “And Ned Nickerson.” She flicked off the torch.

“Nancy Drew?” Brenda gasped. “What are you doing here?” Her voice rose shrilly. “How long have you been spying on us?”

Nancy's face was red. “I—I . . .” She swallowed. “Well, to tell the truth, Ned and I came out here for a little, well, a little privacy.” She laughed an embarrassed little laugh. “We used to come out here when we were still in high school. Isn't that right, Ned?”

Ned slipped his arm around her waist. “Yeah,” he said, in a reminiscent voice, “it's always been one of our favorite places.”

The moon came out just then, shining through the window. Nancy could see Mike's face. He was watching them suspiciously. Had they tipped their hand? Did he know they were on to him?

“Well, you're not going to spoil
my
evening,” Brenda snapped. She reached for Mike's hand. “Come on, Mike. Let's find somewhere where we won't be bothered by sneaks who get their thrills spying on other people.”

Mike cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Well, actually, maybe it would be a better idea to call it an early evening, Brenda. I did a late set at Charlie's last night, and I guess I'm more tired than I thought.” He glanced at Nancy. “And
I'm sort of out of the mood. I'm going home.'

Brenda glared furiously at Nancy as she followed Mike out of the barn. “Just see what you've done!” she hissed. “You've messed things up again! Get out of my life and
stay
out!”

“Whew,” Ned said as he and Nancy watched Brenda spin her wheels pulling out of the barn lot, close behind a disappearing Mike. “Well, at least Brenda's safe for the rest of the evening.”

“Yeah,” Nancy said. “I wish we hadn't jumped in on them so fast, but I really thought . . .”

“I know,” Ned said, circling her shoulders with his arm. “But we accomplished what we came for, didn't we? It's really tough to be responsible for Brenda.”

“And getting tougher all the time,” Nancy agreed. “Tomorrow I'll check with the Batesville police to find out if they've got a cause of death in the DeCamp case. But more important, we've got to keep Mike under surveillance. He's the only one who can lead us to Felix. And by watching Mike, we can be sure that Brenda's safe.”

Ned chuckled. “I never thought I'd see the day when
you
were worried about Brenda Carlton!”

• • •

Nancy hung up the phone, feeling confused. “Boy,
that
sure was a weird conversation,” she said out loud, to the empty living room.

At that moment, Ned stuck his head in through the open door. “What's so weird?” he asked.

“I just called the Batesville police,” Nancy replied, still puzzling over the call, which made no sense at all. She picked up her sweater and joined Ned outside. They were using Ned's car for the stakeout because it was unfamiliar to Mike.

“Who did you talk to?” Ned asked as he backed out of the driveway.

“To the chief of police—Saunders, his name is. He sure wasn't very informative. All he would tell me was that the case was still open. He wouldn't even tell me how the girl died. I guess I'll have to make a trip to Batesville and talk to him, person to person.”

“Did you tell him you had a lead?”

Nancy nodded, frowning. “Yes, but even
that
didn't seem to interest him.”

Ned turned a corner. “That
is
weird—a cop who isn't interested in a lead on a case.”

Nancy opened her purse. “But I did learn something interesting from the call. Remember I told you that the old guy made a telephone call from Mike's motel room?” She pulled out a slip of paper.

Ned nodded. “Yeah. Didn't somebody in the telephone company trace it for you?”

“That's right.” She held out the slip of paper
so Ned could see it. “When I dialed the Batesville Police Department this morning, I recognized the number. It's the same one that Felix dialed from Mike's room.”

Ned looked surprised. “But that's crazy!”

“Exactly,” Nancy said. “Why would a crook—if that's what this guy is—call the cops?” She shook her head. “It's totally weird.”

Nancy puzzled over the problem all day, as she and Ned sat parked across the street from the Ridgeview Motel, watching Mike's room. But she couldn't even guess at an answer, so she abandoned the puzzle and concentrated on the stakeout.

There wasn't much in the stakeout to concentrate on, either. If it hadn't been for Ned's company, the day would have been so boring that Nancy might have dozed off. Apparently Mike was sleeping late, because he didn't appear until nearly one o'clock, when a pizza delivery man brought a large white box to the door. After Mike paid him, he left. The door didn't open again until early evening.

“There he is,” Ned said excitedly as Mike came down the stairs and walked across the lot to his motorcycle.

Nancy tensed. “It's about time,” she said. “I was beginning to think the day was going to be wasted.”

Mike revved the motorcycle and drove onto
Ridgeview Road, heading out of town. Smoothly, Ned started up, and they followed him, careful to stay out of sight.

A mile down the road, Mike turned in at a shabby trailer park. A neon sign said Vacancy. “Remember what that girl told us back in Silver Hills?” Nancy asked as Ned parked on the street and they got out of the car. “Mike's buddy Felix lived in a trailer. Maybe he's taking us to Felix!”

Nancy and Ned made their way through the main gate, scanning the rows of battered-looking mobile homes parked close together on dusty lots. Near the very back, Nancy pointed to a small travel trailer. Mike's motorcycle was parked out front.