Sisters in Crime (12 page)

“The ring, Peter,” Nancy said, looking at him directly. “Uncle Joe's Sigma Kappa ring.”

Peter's strong hand swung out and grabbed Nancy's arm. Then she called out “NOW!” and Ira and Susan flung open the door to the room.

Peter instantly dropped his grip on Nancy's arm and jumped back.

“My friends,” Nancy said, standing up straight. “They also know that it was you who gave me a swollen face.”

“I think we ought to call the police, Nancy,” Susan said, walking to the wall phone.

“Stop her!” Peter yelled to Ira.

As Susan froze, Peter barked, “What do you want to know, Nancy Drew?”

“I want to know why you did it,” Nancy demanded.

“I don't know why,” Peter said, glaring at the three of them. “And that's the truth.”

“What do you mean,” Ira asked angrily, “that you don't know why?”

“I mean,” Peter answered, “that I was doing a
favor for a friend. I owed him one. But why he wanted me to stage an attack on Nancy and Lori I have no idea.” Hesitating, Peter added, “And I didn't ask.”

“Who's the friend?” Nancy asked.

Peter silently looked down. Nancy knew that he didn't want to squeal. She casually motioned to Susan to pick up the phone.

“No!” Peter yelled, putting out a hand to stop Susan. “It's Mike.”

“Lori's boyfriend?” Nancy asked.

“Yeah.”

“He
wanted me and Lori beaten up?” Nancy asked, surprised.

“Nice relationship they must have,” Ira said.

Peter turned to Ira and explained, “I was supposed to scare Nancy, not hurt her, and Mike said he'd do the same to Lori. I thought it was a joke between them or something—I don't know. But then Mike let Lori go and slugged Nancy.” Looking at Nancy, Peter claimed, “It wasn't my fault.”

It looked to Nancy as though she was going to have to hold
Ira
back to prevent him from slugging Peter. “Not your fault?” he mimicked, his hands balled into fists.

“Listen now,” Nancy said coldly. “If I find out that Lori or Mike has heard about our conversation, I
will
call the police, and I
will
press charges against you.”

As Peter began to walk out of the room, Nancy
had one more question for him. “How are you at darts?” she asked.

“Darts? You mean throwing darts?”

Nancy nodded.

Peter shrugged his shoulders.

“And your buddy, Mike, how is he?”

“I'm finished with your questions,” Peter snapped, and slammed the door behind himself.

“Now what?” Susan asked Nancy as the three of them stood looking at one another.

Ira asked, “You think this Peter had something to do with Rina Charles's death?”

“It's possible,” Nancy answered.

“And you're a cop, right?” Ira asked.

“A detective,” Nancy answered. “But how,” she wondered out loud, “did someone figure that out on my first day here? And what does Lori's boyfriend have to do with it all?”

“And what do we do now?” Susan asked.

“We go downstairs and party,” Nancy said. “And we keep an eye on Mike and Lori. I think it's their move next. We also have to let our friend Peter know that we're watching him.”

“I can't believe that guy,” Ira said. “Not his fault—can you imagine? Attacking someone on the beach and claiming it's not your fault!”

Downstairs, people looked as if they were having a good time. There was a lot of loud laughter, singing, and wild dancing.

Nancy saw that many of the girls wore red roses in their hair. The food table had only a few
pieces of the heart-shaped pizza left on it, and the band played very loud. All signs of a good party, Nancy thought.

Ira and Susan were also looking around, and the three each headed in a different direction to search for Lori, Mike, and Peter.

But a thorough search of the first floor and outside porch didn't turn up any of them.

“That was quick,” Ira said to the girls as they met at the punch bowl.

Nancy nodded. “They're not around anywhere. They've either left the house or they're up in Lori's room.”

“So now what?” Susan asked, grabbing a handful of salted nuts.

Just as Nancy was about to answer, she felt something wet drip down her back. “Oh, I'm so sorry, Nancy!” Pam said, and grabbed a napkin to dry Nancy off. The sticky red punch was all over the back of Nancy's hair and dress.

Nancy stopped Pam's attempt to make it better. “It's okay,” she said. “Don't worry about it.”

Turning back to Susan and Ira, Nancy said, “Why don't you two dance and keep this floor covered. I want to go upstairs and change clothes.” Nancy put her hand on the back of her soaking hair. “And dry off. Something tells me that this is going to be a long night.”

“Where shall we meet?” Susan asked.

Nancy thought a moment. “Front porch, fifteen minutes,” she answered.

As Nancy entered her room, she glanced at the phone hanging on the wall. It would feel so good to talk to Ned, she thought.

No time now, though, Nancy thought, and kicked off her flats, unbuttoned her dress, and dried the back of her hair with a towel. She took a pair of jeans, a jersey, and her running shoes out of the closet.

As she dressed, Nancy sorted through the facts. Mike may have sent Peter to scare me, but, Nancy wondered, who sent Mike? Was it Lori? But why, then, would Lori have gotten attacked, too?

Tying her shoes, Nancy was aware that the music had changed from a fast rock 'n' roll beat to a slow, more romantic one. She looked at her watch. Five minutes before I have to meet Susan and Ira, she thought, and picked up the phone.

As Nancy listened to the ringing of the phone at Ned's house, there was a loud banging at her door.

“So you're the new interim treasurer, are you, Nancy Drew?” came a sing song voice as Nancy replaced the phone on its hook.

“I know you're in there,” the voice continued. “Well, all your phony lying can come to an end right now!”

N
ANCY TOOK A
breath, flung the door open, and found herself face-to-face with Fran Kelly. Holding a note in her hand, Fran glared at Nancy. “You've got some questions to answer,” she said, then added with a smirk, “I've blown your cover, and finally Lori believes me!”

Fran's face was turning progressively redder. “You thought we would never know that you went to the accountant's office, didn't you? I guess you could have never known that Mrs. Haft would tell my mother that some ‘nice girl' from Delta Phi came to look at the records. ‘Nice girl,' ha!”

Nancy cautiously watched as Fran became lost in her rage.

“And did you really think we wouldn't figure out who you were? Did you honestly think,” Fran spit out, “that we would never know that you went to the accountant's office and altered our records? Well, Lori Westerly is not stupid, Nancy Drew.” Handing Nancy the note in her hand, Fran said, “But I'm starting to think that
you
are.”

In a clear, calm voice, Nancy said, “You've got it all wrong, Fran. And I think you know that.”

“I know that Lori finally believes me. I know that she finally trusts me and wants to hear from me.” Fran looked at Nancy. “It's funny,” she said, her head cocked, her hair and red ribbon hanging over one shoulder. “It seems you may have been my ticket of admission to get in with the right crowd.

Looking at the insecure girl, Nancy realized that Fran Kelly, like Rina, would do anything to get in with Lori Westerly.

It's time to go to the source, Nancy thought, as she opened the note in her hand.

Now is the time to talk.

I'm waiting for you in my room.

L.W.

To Fran she said, “You can tell Lori I'll be right there.”

Satisfied, Fran left to carry the message to Lori.

Nancy raced down to the front porch to tell Susan and Ira what was happening, but they weren't there! After a quick look at the dance floor and the kitchen, Nancy felt discouraged—and a bit worried.

Nancy raced back upstairs and wrote a note she hoped they would see. “Lori's room, 11:15,” it said.

As Nancy approached Lori's third-floor room, Fran was creeping out. When she saw Nancy, her gray eyes narrowed.

Nancy tapped gently on the closed door.

When she answered it, Lori was no longer wearing the soft dress she had chosen for the party. Like Nancy, she wore jeans, a jersey, and running shoes.

“Come in,” she said, sounding friendly. “It seems we have a lot to talk about.”

As soon as Nancy entered, Lori's hand closed around her wrist. She turned Nancy, bending her arm painfully behind her back. Automatically Nancy leaned forward, and with one motion untwisted her arm and grabbed Lori's chin to force her to the floor. But Lori didn't fall. She threw Nancy off and remained upright.

In her hand was a sharp metal rock-climbing pick, and she held it with the point lying against Nancy's throat.

“Now,
I think we can talk,” Lori said, nudging Nancy back against the wall.

“Is this what you did to Rina?” Nancy asked.

“No. With Rina Charles I didn't need anything but my hands. But you're strong. Strong and clever.” Nancy could feel the pick still lying at the base of her neck. “But I won't have you ruin my life,” Lori hissed.

“She knew you had falsified the financial records and was going to turn you in, wasn't she?” Nancy asked.

“Actually, Rina helped me do it. I told you she was a
good
friend,” Lori answered. “But then that pitiful creature decided to run home to Mommy and tattle.” She slowly drew the pick across Nancy's neck.

“And she told you before she did it?” Nancy asked to keep Lori talking—to keep the metal point from sliding into her throat.

“Let's just say that I saw signs of her weakening.” Lori kept her eyes glued to Nancy. “I understand character.

“You, for example. I didn't believe for one minute that you were visiting the school.” Lori smiled. “Not with all your questions about Rina Charles.”

“What does Mike Jamison have to do with all this?”

“Oh, now we're getting a little personal, aren't we?” Lori said. “Well, I'll tell you, because soon
it won't matter one bit what you know.” Lori tossed back her head as she explained. “Mike does what I ask of him. Happily. If I ask him to rough someone up, he doesn't ask why. If I tell him to make sure Susan Victor and her boyfriend are occupied, he says, ‘Sure, honey.' How's that for a good guy?”

Nancy didn't answer. It was her turn to worry. To worry about what Mike and Peter were doing at that very moment to Susan and Ira. Nancy worried, too, about how she was going to get out of this situation without their help.

“And if you told him to shoot darts at someone,” Nancy asked, her back against the wall, “he'd happily do that, too?”

“I suppose he would,” Lori said, her eyes gleaming. “But some things a girl likes to take care of on her own.”

“You've got quite an aim.”

“I like to do things well,” Lori said simply.

Without Nancy's asking any more probing questions, Lori continued. “This is all my baby. Every penny is for my training. It's going to buy me a spot in the training camp. And in the Olympics.” Lori's smile faded as she said, “The biggest mistake of my life was telling Rina Charles. But nobody else knows.” Glancing at the metal that was at Nancy's throat, Lori added, “And never will.”

Nancy stared into Lori's eyes as she quietly said, “You're something, Lori Westerly.” Then
she raised her knee and slammed it into Lori's stomach.

Taken off guard, Lori buckled but stayed on her feet. Her hand did fall away from Nancy's throat for a second. But instantly she picked it up and forced Nancy into a kneeling position. Dropping her pick, Lori raised her hands and placed her thumbs on two points in Nancy's neck. A tremendous amount of pressure was all Nancy felt before she fainted.