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Authors: Carolyn Keene

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BOOK: Make No Mistake
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Nancy laughed and gave him a quick hug before taking a seat. “Well, you are, Dad, but I came about something else.” She told him what she had figured out about Matt. “He has to be working with someone else, and I have an idea who, but I don't have a shred of proof.” She explained about Jake Loomis.

“Well, maybe we can dig something up just by talking. Why don't you talk through what you know about the case and see if we can figure anything out,” her father suggested.

“It's worth a try,” Nancy agreed. Leaning back in her chair, she began reconstructing her investigation for Carson Drew.

When she got to the part about Tony Giralda, a concerned look came into her father's face. “Nancy, that was privileged information you gave to Tony. Nobody is supposed to know the terms of the will but the lawyers and Matt.”

“What?” Nancy leaned forward, beginning to feel excited. “You're sure no one but you and
some other lawyers and Matt knew the terms of the will?”

“Positive. Well, there was one other person who knew.” He pointed a finger at her, an amused smile on his lips.

Nancy quickly told her father about her visit to Jake Loomis. “The point is,” she finished in an excited rush, “when we talked to Loomis, he said he hadn't seen Matt since he was interviewed by him. But he knew all about which businesses would inherit Mr. Glover's money. He
must
have found out from Matt. There's no other way, is there? So they've definitely been in touch.”

She remembered seeing Matt on the telephone by the diner that day in Chicago. He might have been speaking to Loomis.

Carson Drew frowned. “This is very serious, Nancy. If Matt told Loomis about the will, that must mean—”

“That we can
prove
he and Matt are partners in a giant scam to steal Mr. Glover's fortune!”

Chapter

Fourteen

N
ANCY JUMPED UP.
“I've got my proof. Loomis and Matt—I mean Gary Page—set up the whole scheme.” She gave her father a big hug. “Thanks, Dad. You just helped me clear everything up.”

She was already halfway to the door when Carson asked her, “Where are you going?”

“To catch some criminals!” she called over her shoulder.

Her mind was racing as she got back into her Mustang, the pieces of her plan falling together. She had to set a trap to bring Loomis and Matt together, where she could confront them and get hard evidence—evidence to stand up in court. She knew just how to do it, too.

Bess was the answer. There was no way Matt
would let his guard down with Nancy, but he would have no reason to suspect Bess. She had believed in him from the start. As far as Matt was concerned, she was his loyal dupe. Of course, Nancy would first have to convince Bess that Matt was an impostor—something she wasn't looking forward to at all.

First Nancy drove to Tony Giralda's office. After parking in front of his building, she pulled a small notebook and a pen from her purse and carefully composed a short script.

This is Mr. Loomis's client in River Heights. I'm having trouble with my garden, and I need to see Mr. Loomis at seven this evening—in person.

When she was done, she reread it, satisfied. If she could get Tony to call Jake Loomis's office and say exactly that, she was sure it would be enough to set Loomis up.

“You want me to do
what?”
Tony boomed when Nancy proposed her plan to him. He stared at the words.

“You won't be talking to Loomis,” she explained. “You'll be speaking to a receptionist. Just give her the message and hang up. There'll be no way he'll ever connect you to the call.”

“I don't know. . . .” Tony said.

“Come on, Tony. Where's your sense of justice?”

“Why can't
you
make the call?” he argued.

“It has to be a man's voice, or Loomis will know it wasn't really Matt who called,” she told him.

Tony shook his head. “I don't know. I'm not very good at this kind of thing.”

“Please, Tony, just practice it a few times. Think of it as a rehearsal for your part in bringing justice to River Heights.”

Reluctantly, Tony took the paper and read woodenly. His face was flushed bright red, and he stumbled on every other word.

“Lighten up,” Nancy said with a smile. “Try it again.”

His second attempt was even worse. Nancy had to struggle to keep from laughing. “You sound like a taped announcement,” she said.

“Did I ever say I was an actor?” he retorted irritably.

Nancy read the message out loud, showing him where to pause so that he would sound natural. He got better with each try, and at last Nancy punched out Loomis's number on Tony's phone and handed him the receiver.

Tony clutched it tightly, perspiration beading his forehead and color rising in his cheeks. “I feel like a dope,” he said, but then the line was picked up in Chicago. He straightened up and said his piece, then hung up.

“She started to ask questions, so I figured I'd better get off.” He let out a huge breath of relief
and told her, “I'm shaking all over. Is that what stage fright is like?”

“Not bad, Tony, not bad at all,” she said. “You might be headed for a new career.”

“Cut it out,” he said, but now the pink in his face came from pleasure.

After thanking Tony, Nancy left his office. She braced herself as she drove over to Bess's house. This part of her plan she was dreading.

• • •

“Nancy Drew, you're trying to ruin everything!” Bess wailed. “Why can't you just accept that Matt Glover really has come back? Give the guy a break, would you?”

Bess was wearing pink sweats, sitting on the exercise bike in her room.

Nancy sighed and plopped down on Bess's bed. “Come on, Bess. You can't ignore the evidence—”

“That's what you keep telling me,” Bess retorted, pedaling furiously, “but I don't see what's so conclusive about it. There's no proof that Matt cut those reins, and you said yourself you weren't sure about his scar. If you want me to go along with some stupid plan to trap him, you can just forget it.” She crossed her arms over her chest and said defiantly, “In fact, I think as his
friend
—which you obviously aren't—I should warn him.”

“You can't!” Nancy sat up straight on Bess's bed. She
had
to make her understand—and fast.
In an urgent voice Nancy explained again about how Matt must have been the one to tell Loomis which charities were to receive money. “Don't you see? Loomis lied to us when he said he hadn't seen Matt since the interview. That means Loomis and Matt
have
to be working together. It's the only answer.

“And it's not just a matter of the charities who'll be cheated,” Nancy continued. “What about Matt, the real Matt? What about his father? It would be an insult to their memories. I'm trying to protect them, too.”

Bess still didn't look convinced, but Nancy saw her expression soften a little. “I don't like it,” she said dubiously. “What if you're wrong? I'd never be able to forgive myself for being so sneaky. Why do I have to be involved at all?”

“If I could do it, I would, but I can't. Matt doesn't trust me. He wouldn't give me the time of day. He might let down his guard with you, though. Look at it this way, Bess. If he really is Matt Glover, isn't it worth it to prove it beyond any doubt? That way we could all be happy for him.”

Bess sighed. “When you put it like that,” she said slowly, “it sort of makes sense.” She smiled shakily. “What is it I'm supposed to do?”

“I want you to catch him out in a lie, except it won't be a lie he tells. It'll have to be something he says he remembers. Something that never really happened. A lie in reverse.”

“What if he says he doesn't remember it?”

“Then I guess we'll know he's the real Matt Glover,” Nancy replied. “I'll apologize to you for all my doubts, and everyone will live happily ever after.”

Bess grinned. “That's the version I like,” she said, “and I'll bet you that's what happens.” Her expression grew serious, and Nancy was afraid she might change her mind.

“What's the matter?” Nancy asked.

Bess climbed down from the exercise bike and went over to her closet. “Well, I was just wondering. . . .” She threw open her closet door and started rummaging through her clothes. “What should I wear?”

Nancy grinned. “At least you haven't lost sight of the really important things in life—like the perfect outfit!” She got up from Bess's bed and helped go through her closet. “Whatever you wear should have deep pockets,” she said. “I want you to have my tape recorder going, so we'll have proof.”

Bess's eyes widened. “That's the kind of thing
you
do,” she said.

Nancy pulled out an oversize red sweater with two big patch pockets. “This will be perfect, and you'll look great!”

“Okay.” Bess sat down on the edge of her bed and asked, “So what kind of lie do you want me to catch him in?”

“It has to be something from a big event in his
life,” Nancy said. “Something he'd remember because of when it happened.
Nobody
could have filled him in on every little detail, it just isn't possible. You know, like his eighteenth birthday, when he got that great sports car— Hey, Loomis had left by then! Hold on, I think I've got it.”

She told Bess her plan and then called Mrs. Adams at Glover's Corners. “Are you alone?” she asked. The housekeeper told her that Matt had gone downtown.

Nancy quickly told Mrs. Adams what she had figured out and what she planned to do about it. “Leave the side door open,” Nancy instructed after sketching out her scheme. “And when Bess and Matt are safely in the library, come and tell me.”

“This isn't going to be dangerous for Bess, is it?” Mrs. Adams sounded concerned.

“No,” said Nancy. “Matt won't even know he's been trapped, but we'll have it on tape. By the time I confront Loomis and Matt this evening, Bess will be long gone, and I'll have the police with me. Once they hear the tape, I'm sure the authorities will be eager to take Matt into custody.”

The housekeeper promised to let them know the moment Matt returned to the house. When Nancy returned to Bess's room, Bess was wearing the red sweater over a black knit skirt, red stockings, and black boots.

“You look great!” Nancy told her. Seeing
Bess's sad expression, she added softly, “I wouldn't even ask if I didn't think it was very important. I hope I'm wrong, Bess, really I do. But you've got to be prepared for the worst.”

Bess nodded shakily.

Nancy had just showed Bess how to use the minirecorder when Mrs. Adams called back and told them that Matt had returned to Glover's Corners.

“This is it,” she told Bess, feeling a rush of energy flow through her. “We're on!”

It was late in the afternoon when Nancy eased her Mustang through the gates of the Glover estate. The sun was setting, and the house and grounds were shrouded in dark gray shadows. Nancy was happy for the cover of darkness; Matt would be less likely to see her.

“We'd better park here so he doesn't see my car,” she told Bess, stopping just inside the gates. “You can tell him you got dropped off. I'll wait till you're inside, then circle around by the trees to the side door.”

Nancy watched as Bess trudged up to the house. As soon as she was inside, Nancy made her way to the side door and flattened herself against the wall so no one could spot her from inside. She checked her watch. Five o'clock.

Twenty minutes later, Mrs. Adams appeared at the side door, opening it soundlessly. “They're in the library now,” she whispered. “I'll be in the kitchen.”

Nancy slipped inside and tiptoed up the two steps from the side door. Now she was in a hall, with the dining room to her left and the library to the right. The library door wasn't closed, but Nancy was sure she couldn't be seen from this angle.

Once more she flattened herself against the wall just a few feet from the door. If Matt came out for any reason, he would probably use the door that led to the back hall and the kitchen. And if he headed for the door where she was eavesdropping—well, Nancy had to hope that Bess would find some way to warn her so she could duck back to the outside door in time to avoid being seen.

Bess's voice floated out from the library and Nancy heard her leading the conversation to the topic of parties. She said something about having to buy a present for her cousin Louise's birthday party. Nancy grinned—she didn't think Bess even had a cousin named Louise.

“I never seem to be able to choose just the right present,” Bess was saying. “When I was a kid I bought some aquarium gravel—you know, the kind that comes in rainbow colors—for a boy who had tropical fish. He started crying when he opened it, and when I asked him what was wrong, he told me all his fish had died the week before.”

BOOK: Make No Mistake
3.13Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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