Designs in Crime Read online

  “But you have to go,” Nancy pointed out. “Angel’s partner won’t make a move until he or she sees you leave the building.”

  “We’ll be fine,” Bess assured him. “I’ve been on stakeouts with Nancy before. Believe me, the worst part is the waiting. It’s a bore!”

  “Are you sure?” Beau asked. “Maybe—”

  “Good night, Beau,” Joanna said firmly.

  After Beau left, Nancy turned out the overhead light and stretched out on a quilt. Joanna and Bess had their heads together over a bridal magazine lit by one of the flashlights. “I’m amazed you’re here with us, Joanna,” Nancy said. “Your wedding is just hours away.”

  Joanna laughed. “It’s my last night out with the girls, and I’m going to make the most of it! Besides, if you guys can stay up all night and still make it to my wedding, I can, too.”

  “Unfortunately, Bess was right about stakeouts being boring,” Nancy admitted. “I just hope this one pans out.”

  The girls settled in for a long wait. Only twenty minutes later, Nancy thought she heard the sound of a door opening.

  “Someone’s here,” she said, shushing the others. Kneeling against the wall to Beau’s office, Nancy put her eye up to the peephole and waited.

  Within minutes the light flicked on and a slight man entered. Dressed in black from his combat boots to his wool cap, the man moved quietly about the office, digging through file drawers. As the man turned, Nancy got her first glimpse of his face, but his features were distorted by a nylon stocking worn over his head.

  “It’s the guy we saw in Angel’s apartment,” Nancy whispered as she turned to her friends.

  Peering into the office again, she saw the man wheel toward the gown. He pulled a shiny object out of his jacket pocket. Nancy gasped as the light glimmered on the golden handles of Mrs. Chong’s scissors!

  Fiendishly, he cut the bridal gown into shreds. Then he shoved the scissors back into the pocket of his jacket.

  “Get this,” Nancy whispered to the girls. “He didn’t steal the gown—he shredded it.”

  “Can you see his face?” Bess asked. “Can I look?”

  “It’s distorted by a stocking.” Nancy slid away from the crack to give Bess a chance.

  Bess settled herself close to the wall, then began craning her neck around to get a better view. “But, Nancy,” Bess said after a minute, “I don’t see anyone there at all.”

  Nancy scrambled back to the crack in the wall. There was no one there! The intruder had gone.

  All of a sudden she sniffed something odd. Smoke! She turned her head, trying to see the rest of the office. Then her eyes jumped to a pile of papers on Beau’s desk. They lit up in a yellow-orange glow, then crackled and exploded in flame.

  “He’s set the place on fire!” Nancy gasped.

  “It’s the only way he can be sure that all the evidence against him is destroyed,” Bess said.

  “I smell smoke now, too!” Joanna exclaimed.

  Nancy rushed to the door. It was hot, which meant the fire was close. The intruder must have started another blaze in the hallway.

  “Stay down and move over there,” Nancy said, pointing to the opposite wall. The girls dropped into a crouching position and scrambled across the storeroom.

  Nancy touched the door handle, then yanked her hand away. “We’ll never get out this way,” she said, crawling over to where Bess and Joanna were crouched against the wall. The beams of their flashlights illuminated the doorway, where wisps of black smoke were beginning to leak around the frame.

  “What are we going to do?” Joanna asked.

  Just then the smoke was followed by the first lick of Flame that wrapped around the bottom of the wooden door. The fire is here, Nancy thought as she sank back between two plywood studs. And we’re trapped!

  Chapter

  Sixteen

  THERE HAS to be another way out of here,” Joanna said, moving the beam of her flashlight around the room.

  “And we’d better find it! That smoke is choking me,” Bess said.

  “Cover your mouth with this,” Joanna suggested, handing Bess a swatch of cloth.

  In the distance Nancy could hear smoke alarms begin to ring, but she knew by the time the fire department arrived, they’d be dead from smoke inhalation.

  “We have to get out!” Bess exclaimed.

  Using the beam of her flashlight, Nancy searched the room. She had to stay calm. Recalling what she knew about Beau’s studio, she remembered the ventilation system. “There’s got to be a vent in here!”

  Thinking through the floor plan, Nancy turned to the wall behind her. She had to push through a rack of clothes, but at last she found the square opening. “The vent!” she shouted. Using her penknife as a lever, she pried off the vent cover and let it drop to the floor.

  Just then Nancy heard the noise of wood popping in the heat. Looking back, she saw that the door was now enveloped in flames.

  It was now or never.

  “Quick! Crawl out this way!” Nancy shouted. She gave Bess a boost into the air shaft.

  Joanna was next, then Nancy tried to follow, but couldn’t reach the opening without a boost.

  She searched the dark room for something to stand on, then dragged a broken dress form over and set it on its side to use as a step. At last, she was able to dive into the vent, her hips scraping the jagged edges of the opening as she slithered through.

  The air shaft was like a dark tunnel, made all the more eerie by the bouncing beams of the girls’ flashlights and the occasional squeak of their sneakers against the metal lining. Nancy forged ahead, following Bess and Joanna. When they reached a juncture, Bess stopped. Nancy thought hard about the layout of the studio, and took her best guess about which way to tell her to go.

  A minute or so later Nancy reached the end of the shaft. Coughing and covered with dust, she popped her head into the workroom, where water was pouring from the sprinklers in the ceiling.

  Joanna and Bess grabbed Nancy’s arms and helped her to her feet.

  “This way,” Nancy shouted over the alarms. She led Bess and Joanna out through the reception area, then darted toward the stairs.

  Outside, the night air was cool, but it was a welcome relief. Nancy doubled over, then straightened up and took a deep breath.

  “You two sure know how to show a girl a good time,” Joanna said, wiping dust and soot from her face.

  Bess coughed. “A real hot time.”

  “We’d better call nine-one-one,” Nancy said. “The fire department will probably respond to the alarms, but it can’t hurt to make sure.”

  “I’ll go,” Bess said, pointing to a phone booth at the end of the street. Joanna followed.

  Checking to her right, Nancy watched her friends disappear behind a newsstand. Then she moved to the building next door and sat down on the stone threshold. She was wondering if the fire fighters would be able to find Beau’s studio when a dark figure stepped out of a nearby vestibule.

  Taking in the black clothes and lace-up boots, Nancy knew it was Angel’s killer. He must have stopped to see whether the fire caught. “Wait a minute,” Nancy called.

  The man darted down the block, then turned into a dark alley. Nancy was on his heels, lunging forward and grabbing for his jacket, but caught his cap instead. The man tripped and fell, throwing Nancy off balance. She stumbled, still clutching the cap, which was yanked off his head. Nancy managed to get her bearings and back off as he spun around.

  Shock rippled through Nancy as she looked into his face. He was a woman! It was Mimi Piazza in men’s clothing, Now that the cap was gone, there was no mistaking the red ringlets.

  “Stay out of my business!” Mimi hissed, getting to her feet.

  “It’s too late for that,” Nancy answered. “I know that you killed Angel. And soon the police will have enough evidence to convict you.”

  The corner of Mimi’s mouth lifted in a sneer. “Your precious evidence is burning away up there,” she sai
d, pointing toward Beau’s studio.

  Not all of it, Nancy thought, remembering that after shredding the wedding gown Mimi had tucked Mrs. Chong’s scissors into her pocket. But she didn’t want to reveal her hand to Mimi. Instead, she said, “Who masterminded the design theft? Was it you or Angel?”

  “There’s no way I can be tied to those stolen designs,” Mimi said, her dark eyes glittering. “That’s the glory of it. Angel came to me for a job, and instead I planted a little idea in his brain. I even introduced him to the buyers at Budget, to start the ball rolling.”

  Nancy nodded. “So Angel stole three of Beau’s designs and sold them to Budget as his own. He took the risk, but you had the satisfaction of knowing you were undermining Beau, your rival since design school.”

  “You’re a clever girl,” Mimi said, peeling off the stocking that distorted her features. “But you still don’t have a case against me.”

  “But things weren’t happening fast enough for Angel,” Nancy speculated. “He wanted recognition for his own designs. He thought Beau was holding him back, and he realized that you weren’t doing him any favors, either.”

  “He had the nerve to give me an ultimatum,” Mimi complained, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a pair of leather gloves. “If I didn’t hire him and give him his own label at my design house, he was going to blackmail me, making it look as if I was the one stealing Beau’s designs.”

  “Why didn’t you give him a job as a designer?” Nancy asked, aware of the sirens and horns of approaching fire trucks. What was taking them so long?

  “Have you seen his designs?” Mimi scoffed, slipping the gloves on. “Garbage. His ego was larger than his talent. I had no choice but to—get rid of him.”

  When Mimi reached into her pocket again, Nancy stepped back defensively. She remembered the contents of that pocket all too well.

  A moment later her fears were realized as Mimi pulled the scissors out and lifted them in the air. The nightmarish vision of the woman lunging toward her sent Nancy stumbling backward.

  As Mimi thrust the scissors forward, Nancy dodged her, backing into a trash can, then scrambling around it. Mimi was ready to strike again, but Nancy was a few steps ahead of her. She turned to run and barreled into the solid form of Detective Noonan.

  “That’s enough,” the officer said, quickly sizing up the scene. He moved Nancy aside, drew his pistol, and pointed it at Mimi. “Police!” he shouted.

  Stunned, Mimi blinked, her rage fading as she let Mrs. Chong’s scissors fall to the sidewalk. “You don’t understand, officer,” she said. “This girl was robbing me. I was defending myself—”

  “Right,” Detective Noonan said. “And those wouldn’t happen to be scissors from Mrs. Chong’s collection?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Mimi insisted indignantly.

  “We’ll see about that,” the detective said. He snapped a pair of handcuffs around Mimi’s wrists and recited her rights to her.

  Relief washed through Nancy like a warm wave. She turned toward the fire trucks that had begun pulling into the street. Bess and Joanna were standing behind them, wrapped in blankets. One fire fighter handed Nancy a wool blanket, then scurried off to assist on the ladder truck.

  Nancy looked up at the smoke pouring out through the broken windows of the workroom.

  At last it was over.

  • • •

  Thirty minutes later, the fire had been doused and the damage was being assessed. Beau had rushed to the scene as soon as he was called. Sam Hollingsworth had also shown up when Tyler told him how his fiancée was spending the evening.

  “Are you nuts?” Sam told Joanna. “You could have been killed!”

  He stood near the girls, who sat on the tailgate of one of the rescue vehicles.

  “Just as crazy as you are every time you climb into a race car,” Joanna pointed out.

  Sam pulled her into his arms and held her close. “It’s hard to accept that risk when it involves someone you love.”

  “I know,” Joanna said. “But it’s a fact of life.”

  Just then Beau came out of the building, followed by Detective Noonan and a fire chief.

  “The fire took its toll,” Beau reported, “but everything in the vault is safe. We can go on with next week’s show as planned. But I’ll have to look for new studio space.”

  “Thank goodness!” Bess said. “I’d just die if something happened to those beautiful gowns for the Petite Elite line.”

  “I’m just glad that you girls are safe,” Beau said, squeezing Nancy’s arm.

  “And we have a solid case against Mimi Piazza,” Detective Noonan announced. “I just got word from the precinct. They found traces of blood inside the pocket of Mimi’s jacket. The lab will run tests to see if it’s Angel’s blood, but it’s almost a moot point now. Mimi has confessed to the murder of Angel Ortiz.”

  “Finally,” Nancy said, sighing. “But why did she steal the second pair of scissors?”

  “Mimi says she panicked after she stabbed Angel,” Noonan said. “She was afraid she’d run into someone on her way out of the studio. She took the second pair of scissors just in case.”

  “I’m glad that’s solved,” Bess said, yawning. “Now we’d all better get some sleep,” she told the group. “Tomorrow’s a big day, and I want to be on my toes for the wedding!”

  • • •

  Surrounded by her camera crew, Delia Rogers was interviewing guests on the steps of St. Patrick’s Cathedral when Nancy and Bess arrived the next day. Nancy caught a snippet of conversation as she walked past.

  “As you can see,” Delia said, “rock ’n’ roll idol Izzy Green is decked out in a leather tux for the occasion. Tell us, Izzy, do you—”

  “That was Izzy Green,” Bess muttered as she followed Nancy into the front vestibule of the cathedral. “He looks skinnier in person.”

  “You have all day to check out the celebrities,” Nancy reminded her friend. “But if we want to wish Joanna luck, we’ve got to hurry. The wedding starts in ten minutes.”

  As she walked through the cathedral, Nancy smoothed the bodice of her blue velvet gown. The purple satin skirt of Bess’s dress rustled as she hurried alongside Nancy.

  The girls found their way to a small room off the side of the altar. Bridesmaids dressed in emerald green gowns fluttered around Joanna, who was pinning her headpiece to her dark hair. Beau stood off to the side, double-checking the gowns worn by the bridal party.

  “Nancy! Bess!” Joanna called. “Come on in and join the party.” Even in the dimly lit room, Joanna seemed to sparkle.

  “You look absolutely gorgeous!” Bess said.

  “Thanks.” Joanna smoothed her hands over the beaded bodice then reached out to tug Nancy and Bess closer. “Beau’s dress really highlights Mom’s pearls—and thanks to you two, I get to wear them!”

  “Looks like everyone is set here,” Beau said, kissing Joanna on the cheek. “I’ll see you later.”

  “Save us a place in the cathedral!” Bess called after Beau as he left the room.

  “You’ll never believe what happened last night when I got home,” Joanna said. “Fireworks!”

  “What?” Nancy said, confused.

  “Dad blew up when he heard that I was involved in the stakeout,” Joanna explained. “There was a huge argument. Sam and Tyler got involved, too.”

  “What was the outcome?” Bess asked.

  Joanna shrugged. “Everyone had a chance to air their feelings. Tyler and Dad seem to be willing to talk now. And Sam has reached a new understanding with my father. When my mother was alive, she was the glue that kept us together. Now I guess it’s up to me. And I think I’ve made a good start.”

  “Your mother would be proud of you,” Nancy said, squeezing Joanna’s hand. In the distance she heard the thrum of organ music. “We’d better get outside,” she told Bess. “Or else we’ll make Joanna late for her own wedding!”

  Out in the cavernous cathed
ral, Nancy and Bess were escorted to the pew where Beau was sitting. Soon the wedding march began, and a sweet feeling swept through Nancy as the music played. One by one, bridesmaids proceeded down the aisle, arm in arm with the handsome ushers.

  Looking to her left, Nancy saw tears sparkling in Bess’s blue eyes.

  “It’s so romantic,” Bess said.

  At last Joanna walked down the aisle with her father. The pearls in her dress held a warm glow that matched her smile. Nancy had never seen a more beautiful bride.

  “This wedding is going to be the happiest ever,” Bess said. “All thanks to you, Nan.”

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Simon Pulse

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  Copyright © 1993 by Simon & Schuster, Inc.

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