032 High Marks for Malice Read online

  Room 212 was almost as large as Line’s apartment. It had a sitting area that could be closed off from the sleeping area by a set of sliding screens anchored to the ceiling. At the moment the screens were open.

  Cassandra’s room was decorated in pink and white, and a thick white carpet covered part of the gleaming hardwood floor. In the sitting area, a sofa was positioned under a window, a pair of sheets, a blanket, and a pillow stacked on one end. A white wicker trunk served as a coffee table.

  “Nice,” Ned said, putting Nancy’s bag down. “The rooms at Emerson are half this size. Think she’ll mind my waiting up here?”

  “We’ll find out soon enough.” Nancy removed her coat and folded it across the back of the sofa.

  Ned caught her and pulled her close. “I am glad you came. Whoever tried to kill Line doesn’t stand a chance now that you’re on the case.”

  “We’ll solve it together,” Nancy said with a quick smile. On tiptoe, she kissed him, her arms wrapped around his neck. He smelled of pine forests and rain, courtesy of his cologne, and of pepperoni, courtesy of Gianelli’s pizza. It was a lovely combination. Nancy breathed deeply, taking it in.

  The door opened. Cassandra stood, a laundry basket in her hands, her mouth open in surprise.

  “Hi, Cassandra,” Nancy said, moving out of Ned’s arms. “I hope you don’t mind Ned being here. We—”

  “Why should I?” she snapped, striding into the room and plunking the basket down on the bed. “You two can go right on playing kissy-face, for all I care. I’m closing the screens and going to sleep.”

  Nancy felt a surge of annoyance and swallowed it. She would be a polite and considerate guest, no matter how rude her hostess might be.

  “Can we talk to you for a few minutes?” she asked. “There are a few questions—”

  “Sorry,” Cassandra cut her off. “I have to be up early to get to the hospital by eight. So if you’ll excuse me . . .” Grabbing the edge of a screen, she began to slide it across.

  “In case you’re interested,” Ned said, sounding as if he too was finding it hard to ignore Cassandra’s behavior, “I called intensive care about twenty minutes ago. They said there was no change.”

  Cassandra stopped for a moment, her eyes filling with tears. Quickly she blinked them away. “I know. I called, too. The sofa opens up, Nancy. Good night.” With that, she disappeared behind the screens.

  “I’d better go,” Ned whispered. “The questions can wait.”

  “I’ll walk you out.” Nancy grabbed her coat and purse and followed him.

  “I guess she’s too upset about Line to care about her manners,” Ned said, going down the steps. “Line wouldn’t like her if she was always like that.”

  “If she does act that way all the time,” Nancy said, “the nights will be awfully long in one room with her.”

  After a very satisfying—and uninterrupted—good night kiss on the front steps, Nancy watched until the taillights of Ned’s car were no longer visible. She hesitated before going in. The chill of the night seemed preferable to the chill upstairs in 212.

  There was more traffic than she’d seen since she had arrived—cars entering and departing the main gate, a couple strolling hand in hand. They looked up and called out, “Merry Christmas!”

  I like this place, she thought as she waved back. It was a warm, friendly campus.

  The carillon began to chime—it was eleven o’clock. I’d like a closer look at that tower, Nancy said to herself. She wished she’d thought of it before Ned left. But it was too late. She’d have to do it alone.

  Nancy walked toward the tower and saw that it was lit up now. Penlight in hand, she minutely examined the area where Line had fallen, but found no clues. She moved around the tiny chapel, searching for a door. It was at the back, securely locked.

  She hesitated only a moment, then removed her lockpick set from her purse and went to work. In less than a minute she was standing in a tiny foyer, facing a second door.

  This wasn’t a chapel at all, but simply the housing for the mechanisms that rang the chimes. The chimes were sealed in a room behind the second door, on which a sign was painted. “ ‘Danger. High Voltage,’ ” Nancy read out loud.

  To her left were the circular stairs of the tower itself. Nancy climbed them. It was a tight squeeze at the top. The sixteen bells took up most of the space.

  It was cold up there, the wind brisk and blustery. Large, open windows spanned three sides of the tower. The only solid wall was the rear one, which contained the stairwell.

  Dropping to her knees, Nancy played her pen-light across the floor. Shielding the light so it wouldn’t be seen from below, she examined the ledge of the window from which Line must have fallen.

  The light shone on the two gray threads caught on a rough place on the inner edge of the ledge. Line’s pullover had been gray. He must have stood in that very spot before he fell.

  The voices below seemed so far away that it was a moment before Nancy realized that someone had opened the door downstairs. Two voices, both male, echoed in the tower. They were coming up the steps!

  “No need for this,” Nancy heard as she looked around in alarm. “I checked every inch. There’s no way anyone could tell Sheffield was up here.”

  Whoever was coming up knew that Line had been pushed! I’ve got to hide, Nancy thought. If they pushed Line, they wouldn’t hesitate to push me!

  Thinking quickly, she pulled herself out onto the nearest ledge. Fingers clutching the top of the frame, she prayed the ledge extended far enough past the window so that she could move out of sight.

  She inched sideways. The ledge was wider than the opening! Nancy slid her left foot past the window and eased the right over next to it. Plastered against the outside wall, ivy scratching her cheek, she stood with her eyes closed.

  Suddenly she felt the ledge tremble. Wood creaked ominously. She was too heavy! The ledge was giving way!

  Chapter

  Five

  REACHING UP, she gripped the overhang of the roof and slid her right foot over, then snugged her left up next to it: She had to slide back in front of the opening—before she fell into the brush five stories below! The bells were her only shield. She would be in full view if the two men came around to her side of the tower. If she could hang on until they left, the bells would save her.

  The wind whipped furiously around Nancy, preventing her from hearing what the men were saying. After what seemed like hours, she finally saw the figures exit the tower on the ground.

  Heaving a sigh of relief, Nancy lowered herself to the floor. Ignoring the shaky feeling in her legs, she hurried down the stairs and out of the tower. She was hoping to follow one of the men, if only to get a look at him. But she was too late. Neither was in sight.

  Making her way back to the dorm, Nancy walked slowly, lost in thought. Thanks to a few gray threads snagged on a splinter, and to a pair of unsavory characters who had no idea their conversation had been overheard, she could tell Ned there was no longer any doubt: Line had been pushed from the tower!

  • • •

  Cassandra hadn’t been joking about getting up early. She was very noisy about it, too, slamming drawers behind the closed screens. Sighing, Nancy got up, slipped out to get a quick shower, and returned just as her roommate opened the screens.

  “Good morning,” Nancy said, closing the sofa.

  “Oh, you’re up,” Cassandra said. She didn’t look happy about it.

  “I hope I didn’t disturb you. I tried to be quiet.”

  “I heard you. I’ve been up for hours.”

  Nancy ignored her jibe. “By the way, Cassandra, I’m sorry about last night. Ned came up hoping to—”

  “It’s Cass. And you can open a kissing booth for all I care. You’d never catch me in the arms of any old guy who came along.”

  Patience, Drew, Nancy said to herself. “Ned is hardly any old guy.”

  “Oh, he’s a hunk, I’ll give you that. And Line likes hi
m, so he must be okay. I’m just surprised he’s satisfied at being the latest in a long line of broken hearts. Love ’em and leave ’em, is that your motto?”

  “What are you talking about?” Nancy asked, completely bewildered.

  “Nothing. Forget it.” Cass turned away.

  Determined to thaw the ice, Nancy said, “Would you like to have breakfast with Ned and me? Then we can all go to the hospital together.”

  “I don’t eat breakfast. Excuse me, I have to shower.” Cass swept out, slamming the door behind her.

  I’ve got a case to solve. I will not let her get to me, Nancy told herself. But by the time they’d finished dressing, Nancy was nearing the limits of her tolerance.

  She had laid out a pair of stone-washed black jeans and a forest-green angora turtleneck. Her leather boots completed the outfit.

  “Much better than yesterday’s costume,” Nancy’s roommate commented with a tight smile. “It takes great legs to look decent in the kind of skirt you had on yesterday.”

  Nancy had gorgeous legs and knew it. I guess you don’t wear them, either, she wanted to say, but decided not to play Cass’s game.

  After that, Cass was completely silent, making a great show of ignoring Nancy—until Nancy started to put on her coat.

  “Exactly what did Line say about an aquarium last night?” Cass asked, much too casually.

  “Just something about someone being buried in a fish tank.”

  “Oh.” Cass’s expression softened. “Poor Line. He really was delirious. You couldn’t bury an ant in the Fish Tank. It’s all concrete, chrome, and glass.”

  Her interest quickening, Nancy said, “It’s a place? I mean, a building?”

  “Cameron Hall. It’s our student center. That’s where I work. Line, too. He practically lives there.”

  This news changed Nancy’s view of what Line had said. Perhaps he hadn’t been delirious. If someone was secretly buried in the building and Line had found out, that might explain the attempt on his life. Since Cass knew the Fish Tank so well, they could use her help. But would she give it?

  “Please change your mind about breakfast,” she said. “You don’t have to eat, just keep us company.”

  “Why?”

  “Line’s really special to Ned. It would make him feel better to talk to you, since you’re so close to Line.”

  Cass eyed her suspiciously. Then she sighed, as if making a great sacrifice. “Oh, all right.”

  Nancy grabbed her purse, unwilling to give her hostess time to change her mind. “We’d better hurry. Ned’s probably waiting out front. Where can we eat?”

  “There’s only one cafeteria open on campus when school’s out, and that’s in the Fish Tank.”

  Talk about luck, Nancy thought, following Cass down the steps. Just where she wanted to go!

  Ned, as predicted, was waiting for them outside, but with news that changed their plans a little. Line was scheduled for a round of tests that wouldn’t be over until almost noon. So there was no reason for them to rush through their morning meal.

  For someone who claimed not to eat breakfast, Cass did a remarkable job of packing away juice, sausage, eggs, hash-browned potatoes, toast with jelly, and coffee. Nancy suspected she used it as an excuse not to talk, since her mouth was always full. Ned gave up trying to get information about Line, but he did manage to persuade Cass to show them around the building.

  Cameron Hall was called the Fish Tank because its outer walls were glass. L-shaped and two stories high, it was the most modern building on campus.

  A magnificent Christmas tree sat at the base of the stairs, and wreaths of evergreen and holly adorned the interior. “For the foreign students,” Cass said. “They’re practically the only ones who stay over the holidays.”

  “At Emerson, too,” Ned said. “Boy, this is some building!”

  “One wing of it,” Cass recited like a bored tour guide, “houses recreational facilities: a spa, indoor track, exercise and weight rooms, Olympic-size pool, even video games.”

  “Sounds terrific,” Nancy said.

  “The other wing has a study hall on the first floor—it’s even quieter than the library. The computer lab’s directly above it on the second floor. That’s where Line works,” Cass finished, a break in her voice.

  “Can we start there?” Ned asked. “I’d like to see it.”

  “Why not?” Cass led them up the curving staircase.

  At the top to their right were a pair of glass doors etched to look like two giant computer chips. Just inside the doors was a large, C-shaped desk with a built-in panel of lights at one end and a computer and printer at the other. A dark-haired girl with enormous gray eyes seemed dwarfed behind the massive desk, her fingers flying over the keyboard of the computer.

  Behind her were rows of typing tables, each with a computer and printer. Several were in use, their occupants engrossed.

  “Wow!” Ned said quietly.

  Cass smiled. “Pretty neat, huh? Almost all of us have our own computers, but we end up using these because—I don’t know. It’s more fun, and if we have a problem, there’s always someone around who can help.”

  Interesting, Nancy thought. Cass is acting almost human now. “What does she do?” Nancy asked, nodding toward the girl behind the desk.

  “Maria? She handles circulation. You check in with her, and she assigns a computer to you by flipping a switch on that panel. Maria works days—Line takes evenings.”

  Ned was gazing around him like a kid in a candy shop. “Is it all right if I look around in here?”

  “He’s a hacker, a computer nut,” Nancy said, smiling.

  Suddenly the Cass that Nancy had come to know so well reemerged. “There’s no accounting for taste, is there?” she said nastily. “You two can do what you want. I have to check something in the spa—that’s where I work.”

  Nancy’s desire to see more of the building forced her to ignore Cass’s tone. Ned, she knew, would just as soon stay in there all day. “Mind if I tag along with you, Cass?”

  “Why not? You’ll love it,” Cass said cattily. “Lots and lots of guys.” And she pushed through the doors.

  “Be right with you,” Nancy said, swallowing her annoyance. She turned to speak to Ned, hoping to tell him quickly about her near-miss in the bell tower. So far, they hadn’t had a moment alone.

  Ned, however, was at the circulation desk, talking to the petite girl with the big eyes. Concerned that Cass would intentionally lose her, Nancy decided to bring him up to date later and ran out.

  Cass was turning into the corridor that led to the other wing. Wet Paint signs were taped to the pale yellow walls and the smell of it was very strong.

  “What’s back here?” Nancy asked, trying to match Cass’s stride. Cass was a couple of inches taller than Nancy’s five-foot-seven.

  “The recreational and athletic areas, and the offices.”

  “Did—does Line have an office?”

  Cass suddenly smiled. “You want to see where he stashes his things? Go through there.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder at the door they’d just passed. “I’ll be at my locker. Go enjoy.”

  “Thanks.” Backtracking to the door Cass had indicated, Nancy opened it and went in. The door slammed closed behind her and she turned around—and gasped.

  “Well! There is a Santa Claus after all,” a deep, husky voice said. “Merry Christmas!”

  “Merry Christmas,” Nancy croaked. She could feel herself turning bright red. The boy in front of her was clad only in a towel, draped around his hips. And so was the boy next to him.

  Cass had sent her into the boys’ locker room!

  Chapter

  Six

  HEY, PICK, we have a guest!” The guy with the husky voice turned to an older man in a suit and tie, who stood at an overfull locker just inside the door. Hearing his name, he slammed it closed, but not before Nancy had seen the photo taped on the inside of its door. Even from where she stood, there was no mistaki
ng Cass’s short, curly hair. And the boy laughing down at her had been Line. It had to be Line’s locker! She noted the number.

  “Young lady.” The man in the suit faced Nancy. “What are you doing in here?” Thick dark brows stood out on his thin face. And his skin tone was uneven, almost mottled.

  Blushing, Nancy felt behind her for the handle of the door. “Sorry. I thought this was an office or something.”

  “Stay a while,” the guy with the husky voice urged. “You’re a lot prettier than anyone else in here, isn’t she, Pick?”

  “That’s enough, guys,” the man named Pick said firmly. “Get dressed and scram. You’re holding up the painters.” Opening the door for her, he escorted Nancy into the hall. “Pay them no mind. I’m Jim Pickering, the manager of this facility. Did you get lost?”

  Nancy didn’t answer immediately. That had been Line’s locker. Why had Pickering been at it?

  “I was with Cassandra Denton, just looking around,” she said finally. “She had something to do, and I wandered off. It’s a fantastic building. But why aren’t there signs on the doors?”

  “Everything’s being painted, doors included, so all the signs have been taken down. There’s Cassandra now,” he said.

  Cass sauntered toward them, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Something wrong?” she asked innocently.

  “Nothing drastic,” Pickering answered. “Your friend just wandered into the guys’ locker room.”

  “Did you really?” Cass giggled.

  “You pointed at this door,” Nancy said, gritting her teeth, “so that’s where I went.”

  “No, no.” Pointing to another door farther down, Cass said, “I meant that one. Sorry. Guess I didn’t make myself clear.”

  And didn’t mean to, Nancy thought. “No harm done,” she said lightly. “I sort of enjoyed it.”

  “I thought you might,” Cass shot back, then blushed, realizing she’d given herself away. Quickly she turned to Pickering. “I just came to get some stuff out of my locker. I’ll see you after New Year’s, okay?”