Very Deadly Yours (12 page)

“Yeah—the same restaurant where Bill met
me!
And look how that turned out! I'm only telling you what you told me, by the way.”

Nancy leaned over and pinched her friend's cheek affectionately. “I know,” she said. “And I appreciate your concern. I think I'll be able to handle things, though. From what Bill said, Jenny's much too spooked to try anything.

“Now give me one more cup of coffee before I go,” she continued, holding out her cup to George. “And some more of that coffeecake, if Bess hasn't finished it. Otherwise I'll fall asleep right here and never get to the paper at all.”

She wasn't meeting Jenny till that night, so Nancy had decided to stop in at the
Record
and
fill Mr. Whittaker in on what had happened. After that she'd head back to the hospital to visit Ned. It had been torture the night before, being in the same building with Ned and knowing she couldn't see him—visiting hours had been long over by the time she and Bill had gotten there. Now, though, Nancy hoped to make up for it.

• • •

“In the hospital!” Mr. Whittaker exclaimed half an hour later. “What's the matter with him?”

“You're not going to like this, Mr. Whittaker. Bill's the one who's been running those ads. He's also the one who phoned in that bomb threat yesterday.” Quickly Nancy filled him in on what had happened since she had last seen him. When she had finished, Mr. Whittaker's face was purple with rage.

“I'd like to go over there and break his other leg for him!” he growled. “When I think of what could have happened yesterday if anyone had panicked—not to mention what he's done to you and to this paper's reputation—well, I'm glad you're handling this case and not me.”

“I hope it will all be over soon, Mr. Whittaker. And, please, don't mention anything about this until Jenny's in custody. We don't want her to get word of what's going on. Now, if it's okay with you, I'd like to go talk to Lena. I owe her an apology for a few things. And then I have to go to the hospital to see Ned.”

“Sure. Do anything you want,” answered Mr. Whittaker. “I'm completely in your debt.”

• • •

“No, I mean it. You look a lot better,” Nancy told Ned.

It was true. Ned looked thinner, and his face was tired and gaunt. But the feverish brightness was gone from his eyes, and he was talking like himself again.

“I see your fans haven't forgotten you. This is
lovely,”
Nancy went on, picking up the ugliest flower arrangement she'd ever seen. It was a china vase shaped like a donkey and filled with huge mustard-colored chrysanthemums. A balloon that said “For a Good Boy” was tied to the donkey's neck.

Ned grinned. “Oh, that's from George and Bess. They thought it would cheer me up. I kind of hope one of them ends up in the hospital someday so I can send it to
her.

“They think I'll be able to leave in a few more days,” he added.

“So you're really getting better?” Nancy asked.

“Oh, I'm a star patient. I may have to do a little physical therapy to get my legs back in shape.”

“Well, I'll help you,” Nancy said quickly. “I'll work you harder than your coaches ever did.”

“Sure
you will,” Ned answered. He took her hand in his. “I've really missed you, Nancy. Not seeing you on top of having to eat hospital food is
just too much. Do you think you can come to see me again tonight? Evening visiting hours start at seven.”

Nancy's heart sank. “Oh, Ned, I'd—I'd love to, but I've got something else on.”

“A date?” Ned asked teasingly.

“Well, just with a—a girl I know.” It was so hard not to tell him about the case!

Ned gave a theatrical sigh. “That's just the way of the world, I guess,” he said, his voice vibrating with mock sorrow. “A guy's in the hospital for a few hours and his girlfriend forgets all about him.”

“Stop!” Nancy said, more sharply than she had meant to. “You know I'd come to see you if I could. This is something I can't get out of.”

“Hey, I was only kidding!” Ned protested.

Nancy bent down and kissed him. “I know,” she said, tracing his mouth with her finger. “I just feel bad about it. I wish I didn't have to leave at all.”

“Well, you're welcome to stay as long as you like,” Ned said.

Nancy laughed. “I don't think the doctor would like
that.”
She bent to kiss him again. “I'll see you tomorrow, the minute they let me in,” she said.

Back out in the hall, Nancy paused for a minute. Visiting hours were almost over, but she had promised herself she'd stop in to see Bill. She didn't know what floor he was on, though.
She'd have to go down to the Emergency Room to see where they'd sent him.

“Bill Stark—Bill Stark,” the nurse at the reception desk repeated, checking a list of new patients. “I'm sorry, but I don't see his name here.”

“He came into the ER last night,” Nancy said. “Could you just check one more time?”

“Wait a minute. The man the police brought in—the one who'd hurt his leg?” the nurse asked, looking more closely at Nancy. “Are you that private investigator who came in with him?”

“Yes. I'm Nancy Drew. Is there some kind of problem?”

The nurse winced. “You could say that. He—well, he seems to have left the hospital. When the resident checked his bed this morning, he was gone.”

G
ONE
?”
N
ANCY REPEATED
blankly. “But he wasn't supposed to go anywhere! He's committed a crime!”

“Ms. Drew, we're aware of that. I can't tell you how sorry we all are. No one here thought there was the slightest chance he'd be able even to get out of his bed—he was in such terrible shape when he came in. We've informed the police, of course, and they're looking for him.”

“But I just don't understand how he could have done it,” Nancy said. “Wasn't his leg broken?”

The nurse sighed. “Actually, no. The X rays didn't show a fracture. He may have bruised the bone—that can be very painful—but nothing more serious than that. He hadn't even sprained his ankle.”

“Well, that's one piece of good news,” Nancy said bitterly.

“If you'd like to talk to the doctor who treated him last night—”

“I can't,” Nancy interrupted. “All of this means I've got to change my plans a little. Thanks for telling me,” she said.

So Bill was in hiding somewhere, she thought as she raced out to her car. Everything he'd told her about accepting his fate had been a lie.

And that might mean that he was going to try to reach Jenny before Nancy did. If he did want revenge after all—

“I can't let him get to her,” she said aloud. It was true that Jenny had broken the law, but Nancy knew it was still her job to protect Jenny. If she was guilty of anything, the law—not Bill Stark—should punish her. Besides, the money Bill had stolen had to be returned to the Chicago bank he'd taken it from. If Jenny gave it to him, that would never happen.

Without realizing it, Nancy had started driving on the road that would take her to Bel Canto, the restaurant where she was supposed to meet Jenny. She checked her watch. It would be after
six o'clock by the time she got there. Jenny wasn't due until seven, but Nancy would be able to use the extra time to make sure Bill wasn't lurking around.

The restaurant parking lot had hardly any cars in it. I don't know how they stay in business, Nancy thought as she parked the Mustang.

Bill's car certainly wouldn't be here. It had probably been taken to a junkyard already. The other cars in the parking lot looked empty. Nancy walked through the lot, peering into each one. Unless Bill was hiding in one of the trunks, he wasn't inside any of these cars.

Nancy walked around to the back of the restaurant, but the only vehicle there was a Bel Canto van. Nancy quickly swung open its back door and looked inside, hoping no one from the restaurant would choose that moment to come outside. No Bill—just three crates of carrots.

Okay, he wasn't out here. Nancy walked into the restaurant and checked out the tables. Two elderly women having an early dinner; a mother and her teenage daughter; a few businessmen having drinks; and that was it.

“I'm supposed to be meeting a friend here,” Nancy told the waiter as he walked up to her. “Two friends, actually. A blond girl and a tall blond guy who walks with a limp. I guess they're not here yet?”

“No, no one's come in for the last half hour or
so,” the waiter answered. “Would you like something from the bar while you're waiting?”

“A ginger ale, please.” Nancy took a seat at a window table facing the door.

Ten minutes later she had memorized the fly-specked menu and was beginning to wish she'd brought a magazine along. It was still early, but what if Jenny didn't show up at all? What if Bill had already tracked her down? How would Nancy be able to track
him
down? I certainly didn't need to get here early, Nancy thought irritably. I may be sitting here for—

At that moment a frail-looking blonde with enormous blue eyes opened the front door and peered timidly inside. She was wearing white pants and a white blazer and carrying an oversize shoulder bag. It looked as if it was heavy. Nancy sprang to her feet and walked up to her.

“Jenny?” she said.

The girl nodded. “Yes,” she said, her voice scarcely louder than a whisper, “but where's—where's Bill? Who are you?”

“My name is Nancy Drew. I don't know if Bill's going to be able to meet you.” Quickly Nancy explained what had happened to him and why she was there.

For a minute Jenny didn't seem to understand. “Well, where is he now?” she asked.

“That's just the problem,” Nancy said. “I don't really know. I think you and I should
probably get out of here pretty fast, in case he's on his way.”

“Oh, no, what am I going to do? Now that you've told me all this, I know he'll kill me!” Jenny moaned. She was swaying on her feet. Nancy grabbed her elbow to steady her.

“He won't have a chance to get near you,” Nancy reassured her. “Come and sit down for a minute. Waiter”—she beckoned to him—“could you bring us some tea? I'll pay you for it now. I'm afraid we won't be staying for dinner.”

At the table Jenny buried her face in her hands. “It's all so terrible,” she said as if to herself. “I can't believe I'm even involved in something like this.”

“Can you tell me a little about it?” Nancy asked sympathetically. “I've only heard Bill's side of the story.”

Jenny sighed. “I'm sure whatever he's told you about me is true. That's what's been so horrible—knowing that he was right to be so mad at me.”

“He hasn't said much about you,” Nancy said carefully. She didn't want to scare Jenny even more. “Just that you were John's girlfriend, and you were driving John away when there was some kind of accident. And that he—he lost track of you after that.”

“I don't know why I ever said I'd do it,” Jenny said. “I'd always known John was doing something illegal, but I never asked him what. I guess I
didn't really want to find out. That would have meant I'd have to break up with him, and I couldn't stand the thought of that.”

Nancy nodded.

“When he told me about the bank job, he promised it was a one-time thing. It would give us enough money to settle down, and he'd never do it again.” Jenny's eyes filled with tears. “Well, he was right about never doing it again.”

She lifted her head and stared at the wall as if replaying the long-ago scene in her mind. “John was so careful about everything! I didn't think we really needed to rehearse the drive, but he insisted. He didn't want me to get flustered, he said.

“It all went like a dream,” she continued. “He and Bill drove themselves over there in Bill's car, and I pulled up in front of the bank at exactly ten-fifteen. There they were, just coming out the door. John jumped into the car, I took off, we drove for a couple of blocks, and then—and then—” She was knotting her hands together so hard her knuckles were white.

“And then?” asked Nancy gently.

“Then—if you can believe it—I ran a red light. Such a stupid thing to do after all that practice!” Jenny shivered. “I'll never forget the sight of that truck coming toward us, or the sound it made when it hit our car. It came right through the passenger door. Then there was this
incredible bang when the car in back of us rear-ended us. I—I looked over at John, and—well, you wouldn't have needed a doctor to tell that he was dead. The briefcase with the money was still in his hand.”

Jenny broke off again. Her face was flushed now. “This is the part I still can't believe I did. It was like a silent movie or something. I just reached down and took the briefcase out of his hand. Then I got out of the car and walked away.”