My Deadly Valentine Page 10

  Nancy’s eyes widened. More than anything, she wanted to solve this case before anyone else got hurt. She looked around for her friends but realized they had danced off with the conga line. She would have to catch up with them later.

  Quickly, Nancy followed Fitz out the door. The sounds of the crowd and the music faded behind them. “I can’t believe you found evidence that the police and I missed,” Nancy said, her heart racing with excitement.

  “We all missed it,” Fitz said as he led the way past the central ramp, then turned down the corridor. Nancy was right on his heels as he tugged open the door to the boiler room. He switched on the overhead light and held the door for Nancy.

  “It’s in here,” Fitz said, opening the drawer of the worktable. “I wasn’t sure if I should touch it. You know—tamper with the evidence?”

  A gold object gleamed from inside the drawer. “You were wise not to,” Nancy said. “We don’t want to smudge any prints.” Using the blunt end of a screwdriver, she poked at the dusty gold object. It was a chain—with a heart-shaped charm.

  She turned it over with the screwdriver and read the inscription: Emerson Sweetheart, Rosie Lopez.

  “The locket!” she gasped.

  “I figure we all missed it when we checked the room,” Fitz explained. “Or else, maybe Max held on to it for some reason. But he definitely keeps his stuff in this drawer.”

  “Max’s alibi must have been a lie,” Nancy said, staring at the locket. “He must have had one of the workers at the sports complex cover for him. And he has access to most of the buildings on campus. It must have been easy for him to stalk the Theta Pis.”

  She spun around and looked at Fitz. “We’ve got to report this immediately. The police have to arrest Max before he strikes again.”

  “I’ll call the cops from the office,” Fitz said, rushing toward the door.

  “Ask for Sergeant Weinberg!” Nancy called after him. In the meantime, she was going to comb the boiler room for any other evidence they might have missed.

  With her eyes focused on the dusty floor, Nancy circled the furnace, looking for clues. The igniter kicked on while she searched, and flames roared to life in the square chamber of the burner, casting an eerie glow over the room.

  Slowly, Nancy paced across the floor without discovering anything else. She went back to the workbench and stared down at the locket. What was taking Fitz so long? He should have been back by now. Leaving the locket in its place, Nancy left the boiler room.

  Stepping through the wide concrete entryway, Nancy pushed open the second door and peered down the hall. The corridor outside the offices was empty, and the doors were closed. Where was Fitz? She didn’t relish the idea of running into Max before the police arrived.

  Expecting to find Fitz on the phone, Nancy pushed open the door to his office and looked inside, but it was dark. She snapped on the light and stepped into the tiny room crowded with a desk and half a dozen file cabinets. The desk was cluttered with papers. Fitz’s black leather knapsack sat on top, like a giant paperweight. On the far corner was the phone.

  Nancy was pushing the clutter aside to call the police when the name tag on Fitz’s knapsack caught her eye. The printing, all in capital letters, struck her as familiar. The letters had a squared-off look that reminded her of the printing on Cupid’s notes.

  It can’t be, Nancy thought.

  She straightened, pushing a lock of hair off her cheek, then carefully opened the knapsack and looked inside. There was an Emerson yearbook, with dog-eared bookmarks in spots. Nancy pulled the yearbook out and saw that it was the last year’s edition. She turned to one of the marked pages, and the book fell open to a picture of the Theta Pi sorority.

  What she saw there made her heart sink. Using a red marker, Fitz had drawn a huge X over the faces of Rosie, Mindy, and Kristin—the girls who’d been struck by the stalker! Nancy drew in a ragged breath.

  She’d been wrong about the Dombrowskis. Fitz was Cupid!

  But why was he stalking the Theta Pis? Nancy riffled through the contents of the knapsack and found some wrinkled clippings from a Florida newspaper. One was a wedding announcement, another a story about a local picnic. In both photos, a pretty girl with straight black hair smiled at the camera.

  Who was she?

  Quickly, Nancy read the captions. “Picnickers enjoy lakeside fireworks on the Fourth.” The photo showed Fitz arm in arm with an older girl, who bore a strong resemblance to him. “His dead sister,” Nancy muttered.

  The bride in the wedding photo was the same girl, but the caption identified her as Jessica Watson. He’d called his sister Jessie. . . .

  Then the girl’s last name hit her. Jessica Watson? She was the girl who had been rejected by Theta Pi! And Marina had spoken to Jessica Watson that week. She was still alive. But she definitely looked like Fitz’s sister. If she was, that gave him a motive for stalking the girls!

  Trembling, Nancy picked up the phone and punched in the number for campus security. Her mind was reeling.

  Fitz had won the Theta Pis’ trust, which gave him access to their home and cars. He was a science whiz, so rigging the light switch and poisoning the candy had been easy. He had offered Rosie a shoulder to cry on the night she and Casey broke up. Rosie never suspected that he would hurt her. And with keys to every room in the student union, Fitz had been able to drag Rosie out through the boiler room in an effort to pin the blame on Max Dombrowski.

  Nancy gripped the phone. The first ring seemed to drag on for an eternity. The phone was ringing a second time when the office door swung open and Fitz appeared in the threshold.

  “There you are,” he said.

  Before Nancy could react, he took in the scene with the open yearbook and news photos. In a single movement, he yanked the phone cord out of the wall and lunged at her.

  “Stop it!” she cried, but Fitz had the advantage of surprise. Pain burned her scalp as he grabbed her hair and wrenched her head back.

  Like a football player going for the tackle, he pinned her against the file cabinets. “You should have kept your pretty nose out of this whole thing,” he muttered.

  “You’re not going to get away with this,” Nancy said desperately. “The police know you’re Cupid.”

  “Don’t lie to me,” he said, his dark eyes gleaming coldly. “You’re the only one who knows.” He reached into the pants pocket of his suit and pulled out a smooth black object. A flick of his thumb sent a long silver blade slicing out of it.

  “That’s why you have to die.” Slowly, he swung the switchblade in front of her face and pressed it against her throat.

  Chapter

  Fifteen

  NANCY WAS FROZEN in place. “The police will be here soon.”

  “Nice try,” he said. “But I think you’re bluffing. You didn’t get through to them. And your friends have no idea that you left the ball. In fact, I just danced with Bess. It’ll be a great alibi after you turn up dead.”

  Swallowing hard, Nancy felt the deadly blade pressing against her neck. Karate wasn’t going to save her in such close quarters. She would have to go along with Fitz—at least for the moment.

  “Now,” he said, swinging around behind her and shoving her toward the door, “we’re going back to the boiler room. Walk nice and slow. And don’t try to scream. No one will hear you over the music—and I’ll kill you in the hallway if I have to.”

  Nancy wanted to shriek as they moved toward the boiler room, their footsteps echoing in the empty corridor.

  When they reached the boiler room, Fitz shoved her inside, shut the door behind him, and went over to the worktable. “Let’s tie up your hands before you try something stupid.” Holding the switchblade between his teeth, he tugged her wrists behind her and wrapped them together with electrical tape.

  Meanwhile, Nancy’s eyes darted around the room, searching for a means of escape. She noticed a few tools on the table and a fuse box at the same height as the table, on the wall near the door. But other
wise, the room was dominated by the huge furnace. She knew Fitz would never let her near the garden exit.

  “Why are you doing this?” Nancy asked. Talking would stall him for a while.

  “You saw the photos of my sister,” he said roughly. “You know too much.”

  “Jessica Watson is your sister?” she said. “Why is her last name different from yours?”

  “She’s my stepsister,” he snapped as he tossed the roll of tape on the worktable.

  “But . . .” Nancy began slowly, trying to keep him going, “you told me that your sister was dead.”

  She could see his neck muscles tense. “She is dead, to me!”

  “Why? Nancy half breathed.

  Fitz slapped his hands on his thighs in exasperation. The angles of his face sharpened, and his eyes narrowed. He looked totally transformed from the lovable teddy bear he’d always seemed.

  “Look, my sister and I were incredibly close. After my mom died and my dad married Jessie’s mother, the two of us grew up together. We were inseparable. I even convinced her to come to Emerson,” he said. His voice was laced with pain and anger.

  “But then she dropped out . . .” Nancy urged him gently.

  “And all because of the Theta Pis!” he burst out, slamming his fist on the worktable. The tools on it rattled. “Jessie would never have left college if they hadn’t turned her down. The Theta Pis ruined her life—and mine! Now I may as well not have a sister.”

  “Fitz, you’ve got it wrong,” Nancy said. “I talked to Marina Dombrowski, one of Jessie’s friends. She said Jessie’s happy now. Getting turned down by the sorority wasn’t a big deal to her—”

  “What do you know? You never even met my sister,” Fitz cried, his voice rising sharply.

  Nancy could see that he was losing control. He hugged himself and started rocking. If she could just keep him talking, he might crack.

  Then Fitz straightened up, “And all because of the Theta Pis. I hate those girls.”

  There was a weird gleam in Fitz’s eyes that made Nancy’s stomach twist. She could see that it was useless to try to reason with him.

  Nancy tried another tack. “You planned this all along,” she began.

  Fitz’s lips curled in an ugly smile. “Not really. When I started making friends with the Theta Pis, I knew I was going to do something to get back at them—but I didn’t know what.” He laughed. “And it was incredibly easy to fool them. What a bunch of gulls!”

  He paused, his eyes widening with what looked to Nancy like demented glee. “But that night, when Rosie was crying about Casey, I saw my chance.

  “She was still feeling sorry for herself when I told her to wait for me in the lobby. I was lucky, because there was almost no one around. Max had left his wrench in my office, and one thing led to another. I ended Rosie’s whining, dragged her down the ramp and through the boiler room, then set it up so that Max would take the blame.”

  “But you didn’t stop there,” Nancy said.

  “After that, it became a challenge,” he said, walking over to the furnace. “Especially with you on my trail. I took a stupid chance when I rigged that light switch—but no one caught on. Then, when Mindy fell asleep at the movies, I made it a double feature. I painted the graffiti and cut the cables on Kristin’s brakes. Since I knew all the girls were at the movies, it was easy.”

  “You even used the same color paint I saw on Max’s uniform,” Nancy said.

  Fitz snorted. “I didn’t plan that. It was just my good luck.”

  As he spoke, Nancy edged back toward the workbench. A few tools were strewn across the countertop, and she was determined to use one of them. Blindly, she reached behind her and her fingers closed over a heavy object—a hammer!

  The furnace roared, and Fitz kicked at the metal latch to open the door. White hot flames danced wildly, setting Nancy’s nerves on edge.

  “You threw me off track with the poisoned candy,” Nancy went on.

  He sneered. “I wasn’t about to sign Cupid’s name to that one. Too bad you figured it out. I could have knocked off the whole sorority! In fact, I would have gotten away with everything if you weren’t on the case, asking Dean Jarvis about me and telling the girls not to trust me.” His eyes flared with fury. “Yeah, I heard you this morning, talking behind my back.”

  “I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”

  “Uh-huh.” He gripped her upper arm and pulled her away from the workbench. “That’s why you have to die. And when they find your ashes in the furnace, my old friend Max will have a lot of explaining to do.”

  The furnace! Nancy’s stomach twisted as Fitz tugged her toward the roaring inferno. The heat of the flames filled the room as she tried to resist him. It was now or never!

  Nancy wrenched herself free of Fitz’s grasp. Before he could react, she took two steps back, then aimed a karate kick at his abdomen. The impact of the blow sent the switchblade flying as Fitz wheeled backward and collapsed against the door.

  She scrambled toward the fuse box on the wall. It was low enough so that she could reach it by raising her hands as high as she could behind her. She banged the hammer at it, and the metal cover sprang open. She almost sobbed with relief, then stretched behind her and pulled every switch she could reach.

  The room went dark. Even the monstrous furnace trembled to a halt, leaving everything silent but for the sputtering in the fire box.

  “Stupid move!” Fitz shouted. “Now you’ll die that much faster!”

  He’s coming toward me! Nancy’s heart pounded at the sound of his shuffling feet.

  She slipped her shoes off and tiptoed away from the fuse box. The chase was on. She was going to elude him—or die trying.

  “I’m right behind you,” he said coolly.

  Nancy flinched. His voice was so close!

  “Ready or not—here I come!” he called.

  Nancy sidled against the wall. For a moment, she thought she was safe. But then fingers closed over her arm!

  “Gotcha!” he said gleefully.

  Nancy slammed her knee into his thigh, and Fitz stumbled backward.

  Just then the door to the corridor flew open, and the beam of a flashlight bounced through the dark room. “The fuse box is in here,” said a gruff voice.

  “Over here!” Nancy shouted.

  The commotion that followed was a blur of flashlight beams and voices. Then she heard the click of switches.

  The room was bathed in bright light, making her blink. When her eyes adjusted, she saw Ned holding Fitz in a wrestling lock by the furnace. She’d never been happier to see him in her life!

  Max Dombrowski was standing by the door.

  “It’s her fault,” Fitz shouted. “She broke the fuse box. She’s the vandal! She—”

  “We all know who the vandal is here,” Ned growled as he tightened his hold on Fitz.

  “Good thing I stopped by the union when the lights went out,” Max said. “I was getting pretty tired of being treated like a sicko.” He grinned at Nancy.

  “Would you call the police, Max?” she asked, still breathing raggedly. “But would you first cut this tape off my wrists?”

  “Sure thing,” the maintenance man replied. Using a large pair of scissors, he cut through the tape. Then he turned and headed down the corridor.

  “You know,” Ned said, “I can barely restrain myself. I’d like to punch out this guy.”

  By now Fitz was sagging in Ned’s arms.

  “No need to do that,” Nancy responded, putting on her shoes. Then she came to Ned’s side and touched his shoulder gently. “The law will take care of Fitz.”

  Minutes later the police arrived. Two officers handcuffed Fitz while she explained what had happened to Sergeant Weinberg.

  “We’ll charge him with assault and attempted murder,” the sergeant told her. “You’re okay, aren’t you?” he asked Nancy.

  She nodded.

  “I don’t know how we’d have caught this guy if it weren’t fo
r you,” he said admiringly.

  They were in the hall outside the boiler room when the police brought Fitz through.

  He tensed when he saw Nancy. “You should have stayed out of it,” he fired at her.

  “Pipe down,” one of the officers told Fitz as they led him away.

  Sergeant Weinberg thanked Nancy again and then followed them out.

  When he was gone, Ned wrapped Nancy in a warm hug. “I almost lost you this time,” he whispered, holding her close. Then he stepped back and cocked his head. “And you looking so gorgeous.”

  Nancy laughed, but as they made their way back to the ballroom, she grew serious again. “Fitz is one troubled guy,” she said.

  “I’d call it deranged,” Ned replied.

  “He made up that story about his sister being dead, then played out a fantasy of revenge against the Theta Pi sisters,” Nancy explained.

  “So his sister is alive?” Ned asked.

  Nancy nodded sadly. “Apparently he felt abandoned when she dropped out of school and got married.” She sighed as Ned took her hand. “I’m just glad that the Theta Pi sisters are safe.”

  “Cupid met his match,” Ned said, dropping a tender kiss on her forehead.

  • • •

  “Nice bit of detective work!” Kyle patted Nancy on the back as they headed up the steps of the Theta Pi house after the ball.

  “Nancy always gets her man,” Bess said, then giggled. “Hey, that’s a perfect slogan for Sweetheart Week.”

  The group laughed.

  “Well, you’re all invited to brunch tomorrow in Nancy’s honor,” Kristin said. “Rosie’s coming home from the hospital then. We’re really grateful for your help.”

  Kristin opened the front door, then let out a whoop. “Hey, look who’s here!”

  Rosie appeared in the doorway. Casey stood beside her, holding her arm, which was wrapped in a red sling.

  “I bailed her out,” Casey said, gazing down at her fondly.

  A broad smile spread across Rosie’s face. “I talked the doctor into giving me an early release,” she said. “He wouldn’t let me go to the dance, but he said it would be okay if I spent the rest of Valentine’s Day with my boyfriend.”