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  Two men stood about ten feet away, gazing down at her and Ned. One of them was Dr. Meyers.

  The other was Joe Packard. In his left hand was a big red gasoline can. And in his left hand was a small, deadly-looking gun—which was pointed at Nancy’s heart.

  Chapter

  Seventeen

  NANCY FROZE. Beside her, she felt Ned tense, ready to spring forward. Packard immediately swung the gun and pointed it at him.

  “I wouldn’t try anything,” he warned in a chilling voice. “I’m no marksman, but I doubt I could miss at this distance.”

  “Don’t do it, Ned,” Nancy said urgently.

  “Very sensible,” Packard told her. “Now get up, very slowly, and keep your hands where I can see them.”

  Ned and Nancy did as he instructed.

  “If you don’t mind my asking,” said Nancy, forcing calm into her voice, “how did you know we were here?”

  “Sheer luck,” Packard replied. He set the gas can down at his side, never taking his eyes off the two teenagers. “Ned’s mother told me. ‘They just left for the warehouse. They say they’ve solved the crime,’ ” he added, mimicking Mrs. Nickerson’s voice.

  Ned gasped. “That was you on the phone, right before we left?”

  Packard nodded. “I called to check up on you. It’s a good thing I did, too. Otherwise we wouldn’t have caught you in time,” he said seriously. “I phoned Meyers and had him meet me here. We had to stop you kids before you got to the police.”

  Meyers cleared his throat and shifted his feet nervously. “Joe,” he said, “let’s cut the chatter and get this over with, okay?”

  Nancy’s heart plummeted. She’d been dreading those words. “Uh—how exactly do you plan to stop us?” she asked, trying to keep her voice even. Her eyes shifted to the five-gallon can of gasoline. Was he going to kill them and then set fire to the building? She glanced around, looking for some way to escape, but there was none—as long as Packard kept that gun trained on them.

  Packard gazed at her sadly. “It’s not a pleasant topic,” he murmured. “I’m sure you’d rather not know.”

  That made Nancy mad. “I know you’re planning to kill us,” she retorted. “Why are you being so delicate? Are you afraid you might hurt our feelings?”

  “Please.” Packard frowned. “Believe me, I didn’t want this.” He looked at Ned. “I did everything I could to stop you from getting into trouble. But you just kept prying into things that didn’t concern you.”

  “If you’re talking about my investigation of Toby Foyle, I was just doing my job,” Ned said angrily. “The way you taught me to do it, Mr. Packard. You fraud!” he suddenly burst out. “I can’t believe I ever looked up to you. All this time I thought you were such a good man, and now it turns out you’re just a murdering crook!”

  Packard’s neck swelled with anger. “I am not a crook!” he raged. “I was just taking back what was mine. I devoted my life to that company, and they showed their appreciation by robbing me. I ask you, was that justice?”

  Nancy couldn’t believe the warped things Packard was saying. “Was it justice when you took Toby Foyle’s life?” she demanded.

  Packard’s gaze shifted to her. Keeping her eyes locked on his, she continued, “And was it justice when you tried to frame your friend Dr. Meyers? I doubt he’d agree with you.”

  “Be quiet!” Packard thundered, but it was too late. Meyers was staring at him in horror.

  “Joe!” Meyers cried. “Is that true?”

  “Oh, didn’t Mr. Packard tell you?” Nancy asked. She put a sarcastic note into her voice. “He called Foyle’s landlady and pretended he was you, so that if the murder was ever linked to your scam, you’d be the one to take the fall.”

  “That’s enough!” barked Packard. He backed up in a sudden movement and waved the gun at Meyers. “Get over there with the kids, Bob. I hoped to spare you, but now I see it’s not practical.” He raised the red can and began to sprinkle the rows of cardboard boxes. The strong smell of gasoline filled the air.

  “No—Joe, please!” Meyers begged.

  Suddenly Nancy heard the soft, shuffling sound again. This time it was much nearer. Packard must have heard it, too, she realized. He paused, cocking his head.

  “What was that?” he asked sharply.

  “Just a rat,” Ned replied, his voice filled with contempt. “You’re in good company.”

  “Eeeek!”

  Nancy jumped as a shrill scream suddenly tore the air. A noise of tumbling boxes came from behind Packard. He whipped around, a startled look on his face.

  Nancy took her chance. Like a shot, she raced forward, covering in two strides the distance to where Packard stood. Even as he swung the gun around to cover her again, her foot lashed up and out in a swift kick. The gun flew out of Packard’s hand, and he gave a shout of rage.

  Ned was right beside Nancy. “Let me,” he told her, drawing back his arm. Before Packard could react, Ned’s fist smashed into his jaw.

  The blow must have had all the power of Ned’s anger behind it, for Packard swayed and toppled to the floor, out cold. Ned rubbed his fist, looking pleased and surprised.

  Suddenly out of the corner of her eye Nancy spotted Dr. Meyers reaching for Packard’s gun. He was too far away for her to stop him. “Ned, get Meyers!” she shouted.

  Ned made a flying leap. Just as the doctor’s fingers were about to close on the gun, Ned knocked him to the floor. He drew back his fist again.

  “Don’t hit me. I give up!” Meyers cried, covering his face with his hands.

  As soon as she was sure that Ned had Meyers under control, Nancy stepped cautiously toward the place from where the scream had come. Who—or what—had made all that racket?

  Suddenly a dark form crept out from behind a stack of boxes, and Nancy’s breath caught in her throat.

  “Nancy, is that you?” came Brenda Carlton’s terrified voice.

  Nancy’s jaw dropped. “Brenda!” she exclaimed. “What on earth are you doing here?”

  Brenda kept moving forward, and Nancy could see that her dark eyes were round with fear. “Wh-where’s the rat?” the reporter stammered.

  Suddenly Nancy understood what the sounds and screaming had been. She began to laugh.

  “So that was you,” she said. “Brenda, we heard you moving around. Ned told Packard the noise was a rat, and you heard the word rat and screamed. There is no rat, silly! Now, please tell me what you’re doing here.”

  Brenda looked embarrassed for a second, but then she gave a smug smile. “I followed you from River Heights,” she replied. “I wanted to make sure I got my story. I had just sneaked into this place, to see what you and Ned were doing, when those two men arrived. So I followed them to find out what they were up to. I was trying to get just a little closer when you guys heard me. I was worried about the range of this thing.” She held up a portable tape recorder. “But I think I got it all.”

  For the second time that day Nancy hugged Brenda Carlton. “Brenda, I love you!” she cried. “You distracted the crooks, and you got their confessions on tape. Now, if you’ll just do me a favor and go get the police, I’ll honestly be able to say that you saved the day!”

  • • •

  “Oh, Ned, it’s so great that you’re cleared,” Bess said. “I only wish I’d been allowed in for the grand jury hearing this morning.”

  It was early Thursday afternoon, and Nancy, Bess, Ned, and George were at Mama’s restaurant for the promised victory pizza.

  On her way to Mama’s, Nancy had stopped at a newsstand and bought a copy of Today’s Times, the paper that Brenda Carlton wrote for. Once they were seated, she pulled out the newspaper and unfolded it. She wanted to see what Brenda had written about the Foyle case.

  “Read it aloud, Nancy,” George urged her. “This should be good for a laugh.”

  “Listen to this headline: ‘Foyle Killer Foiled at Last!’ ” Nancy quoted. Everyone at the table groaned. Nancy grinned and read
on: “ ‘In a dramatic scene witnessed by this reporter, the mysterious case of the murder of Toby Foyle came to a close yesterday. Mapleton Police arrested Joseph Packard, head of the claims investigation department at the Mutual Life Insurance Company. Packard is charged with the murder of Foyle and also with insurance fraud, vandalism, arson, and several counts of attempted murder. Also charged in the insurance fraud is Dr. Robert S. Meyers.

  “ ‘Hometown hero Ned Nickerson (see photo) is breathing easier today, thanks to the efforts of this reporter. Nickerson, who also works in the claims investigation department at Mutual Life, had been the prime suspect in the slaying of Foyle. He and Foyle were known to have quarreled, and Nickerson was found at the scene of the crime. However, clues led this reporter to suspect that the real explanation for the homicide lay elsewhere.’ ”

  “Oh, this is too much! ‘Clues’ didn’t lead Brenda Carlton anywhere,” Bess declared. “Nancy is the one who cracked the case.”

  “Shhh. Let Nancy finish reading the story,” Ned told Bess. “Go on, Nan.”

  “ ‘The incredible truth: Foyle, Packard, and Meyers were part of an alleged criminal conspiracy to defraud the Mapleton insurance company. Nickerson was an innocent pawn, caught in their deadly game. Again, clues led this reporter to a warehouse on the outskirts of Mapleton, where Packard and his associate had allegedly lured Nickerson and his girlfriend, Nancy Drew (see photo), apparently intending to kill them. Fortunately for the two teens, this reporter was able to distract the alleged killers until Nickerson could overpower them. Shortly afterward the police arrived on the scene, alerted by this reporter.’ ”

  Nancy folded the paper and laid it aside. “That’s basically it,” she said. “The rest is just about how Mutual Life is investigating the insurance fraud and how there are a couple of other people involved.”

  “ ‘Clues led this reporter,’ ” George muttered. “I don’t believe it! Just substitute ‘Nancy Drew’ for ‘clues’ wherever it appears, and you might begin to understand what really happened.”

  Nancy laughed. “This is one story I don’t begrudge Brenda,” she said. “If it hadn’t been for her, Ned and I might not be sitting here right now. Of course, everything she did was completely accidental, but still, I have to say I’m feeling pretty friendly toward Brenda right now.”

  At that moment their waitress set a huge, steaming pizza on the table in front of them. “Here you are—one pie with the works,” she announced. “Say, aren’t you the guy who they thought killed that other guy in a warehouse?” she asked, staring at Ned.

  Ned looked warily at her, and Nancy could see him tensing up. “Why do you ask?”

  “I read all about the case in the paper this morning—how you nearly went to jail for someone else’s crime and how that reporter saved you. Congratulations,” the waitress told him. “You’re a lucky guy.”

  After she had gone, Ned reached out and grasped Nancy’s hand. “I am a lucky guy,” he said softly. “I don’t think the waitress knows quite how lucky I am.”

  “George, don’t look. I think they’re about to get mushy,” Bess remarked.

  Nancy smiled into Ned’s eyes. “Ned, what are you talking about?” she asked, batting her lashes coyly.

  Ned laughed. Then he leaned over and kissed Nancy on the lips. “I think you know what I mean. I’m the luckiest guy in the world—because I’ve got Nancy Drew for a girlfriend!”

  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

  An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division

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  Copyright © 1991 by Simon & Schuster Inc.

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  ISBN: 978-0-6717-0036-2 (pbk)

  ISBN: 978-1-4814-2848-4 (eBook)

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