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  Nancy had been watching him intently, and now she decided to play a hunch. "You know something about all this, don't you, Rafe?" she asked.

  "No!'' he exclaimed. "That is, I don't know anything—"

  Nancy pounced. "But you suspect something—or someone, right?"

  Rafe hesitated, then said, "Okay, here goes. A girl I know in Port Wellington, Shannon Mul-cahey, works at the Silver Palette, selling gifts and making deliveries. And I think her cousin Jeremy is a part-time stable hand here at Sound view."

  "So you're suggesting that this girl could have delivered the package to Angela and also had access to the stables through her cousin?" Nancy asked.

  Rafe nodded.

  "But opportunity doesn't mean anything without motive," Nancy pointed out. "Does Shannon have a grudge against Angela for some reason?"

  "How could she?" Angela asked with a puzzled frown. "I've never even met her, although I suppose I must have seen her in the gift shop or the gallery. What does she look like, Rafe?"

  He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. *'Dark hair, pretty, about your height and build . . .''

  Angela's green eyes widened. "Oh, I know who you mean. So that's Shannon Mulcahey. Pretty isn't the word for her. She's gorgeous!"

  "I don't get it," Ned said. "Nancy's right. Where's the motive? Why would a total stranger want to prevent Angela's marriage, much less try to murder her?"

  Nancy had been putting two and two together, and she was pretty sure she knew the answer to that question. "Shannon may be a stranger to Angela, but not to Rafe. In fact, she's in love with you, isn't she?" she asked him.

  Rafe stared at her. "How did you know that?"

  "It's obvious," Nancy said. "Why else would you immediately suspect Shannon of trying to ruin your relationship with your fiancee?"

  Rafe's shoulders slumped. "She keeps saying she's crazy about me, but sometimes I think she's just plain crazy. We dated for a while, but Shannon was a lot more serious about me than I was about her. She was jealous and possessive, always making melodramatic scenes if I so much as spoke to another girl. About a year ago I broke up with her, but Shannon hasn't been able to accept the fact that we're through and that Fm in love, really in love, with someone else. With you, Angie,'' he said softly, putting his arm around her.

  "Shannon went ballistic when our engagement was announced—threatened to kill herself, threatened to kill me, the whole bit—but I didn't pay any attention because I'd heard it all before. Until you told me about what you've been going through, it never occurred to me that she might actually turn on you, Angie. Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

  "Why didn't you tell me about Shannon?" Angela countered.

  "I don't honestly know," he confessed. "I guess because I didn't think it was all that important."

  "Maybe not to you, but it's very important to me." Angela's voice trembled. "And it's obviously even more important to Shannon! How do you think it makes me feel to know that you're still involved with a girl—a very beautiful girl—you used to date?"

  "I'm not 'involved' with Shannon," Rafe protested. "Whatever there was between us was over long ago." He tried to pull Angela close, but she edged away.

  "Is it really over, or"—Angela swallowed hard—"are you still in love with her?"

  "No! You're not making sense, Angle. Believe me, you're the only girl I love!"

  Angela leaped to her feet. '*I don't know what to believe anymore!" she cried. "I was so thrilled when we first started going out, but I was afraid you were only interested in me because of my inheritance. When you told me that you loved me for myself, I wanted desperately to believe it, so I did. Maybe I shouldn't have. Maybe you're just marrying me for my money, like that awful letter said!"

  Rafe stood up. "That really hurts, Angie," he said quietly, controlling his anger with great effort. "I thought we had something very special between us. I guess I was wrong. If you think I'm some kind of fortune hunter who'd fool around with another girl behind your back, then we have nothing more to say to each other!"

  With that, he stormed out. Seconds later the front door slammed behind him, and Angela ran from the room in tears.

  Stunned, Ned and Nancy stared at each other. Finally Nancy said, "First thing tomorrow morning I intend to go to the Silver Palette and check out Shannon Mulcahey." She stood and moved toward the door. "But right now I'd better see if Angela's okay."

  "You don't think Rafe is involved with Shannon, do you. Nan?" Ned asked.

  Nancy paused at the door. ''It seems unlikely, since he was the one who brought her up," she said. ''Still, I guess it's possible. Rafe certainly seemed sincere, but for all we know, he could have been putting on an act. And if that's the case, Angela is in for a miserable marriage—if she lives to see her wedding day!''

  Chapter Six

  Howard Tremain had put one of Sound-view's cars at Nancy and Ned's disposal for their visit, and when they came outside at nine o'clock on Saturday morning, a sleek red Corvette was parked on the circular drive.

  Ned whistled in admiration. "Decent wheels!"

  "Not too shabby," Nancy agreed.

  Ned took her in his arms, and their lips met in a long, sweet kiss. When they parted, he said, "Do you realize that's the first time we've kissed since we got here?"

  Nancy sighed. "We have a lot of catching up to do."

  "Better believe it! Take care. Nan," Ned said as she slid behind the wheel. "Don't worry about Angela. I won't let her out of my sight."

  He had volunteered to stay at the estate to keep an eye on Angela and to prevent any further "accidents'' while Nancy drove to the village in search of Shannon. "Any idea when you'll be back?"

  "Hard to tell," Nancy said, buckling her seat belt. "Probably around midaftemoon. I'll have to give myself time to get ready for the Free-mans' dinner dance at the country club in honor of Angela and Rafe. It starts early, so Mrs. Tremain will be able to come, if only for a short while."

  Ned slapped his forehead. "Oh, brother! I'd forgotten all about it. Since the bride and groom just had a major fight, that's bound to be loads of fun. I wonder if Rafe will even show up."

  "He can't very well back out now, and neither can Angela, although she told me last night she wished she could," Nancy told him. "Mr. Freeman was a good friend of her father, and Mrs. Freeman is still very close to Angela's mother." She turned the key in the ignition, and as the powerful engine roared to life, she said, "Well, I'm off. Wish me luck."

  "I always do," Ned said sincerely. "Happy hunting!"

  The sky was overcast, and a light snow was falling when Nancy pulled into a parking place on Port Wellington's Main Street. Although wreaths hung from every lamppost and the windows of all the quaint little shops were filled with Christmas decorations, Nancy was definitely not in a holiday mood as she got out of the car and headed for the Silver Palette.

  Bells tinkled merrily over the door, and the scent of spicy potpourri tickled Nancy's nose when she walked inside.

  "Morning!'' a cheerful voice rang out. A plump, middle-aged woman wearing a long, handmade beaded necklace and a loose garment made of hand-loomed fabric bustled up to her. "Seems like we're going to have a white Christmas, doesn't it? I'm Chloe. Can I help you?"

  "I hope so," Nancy replied. "I'm looking for Shannon Mulcahey."

  "Sorry, dear," the plump woman said. "I'm afraid you're out of luck. Shannon's not here on weekends. Are you a friend of hers?"

  "We have a mutual friend who asked me to look her up," Nancy said. "Could you tell me how I can get in touch with her?"

  Before Chloe could answer, the bells tinkled again, and several people entered the shop. "Oh, good! Real customers!" she chirped. As she hurried off to wait on the new arrivals, she stuck her head into the gallery and called,

  "Alison, would you please give Miss—" She turned to Nancy. "What did you say your name was, dear?"

  "I didn't say, but it's Drew, Nancy Drew," Nancy replied.

  A tall, thin girl dressed all in b
lack with shaggy blond hair came out of the gallery, and the woman said, "Oh, Alison, there you are! Please give Miss Drew Shannon's address and phone number. She's a friend of hers."

  Alison eyed Nancy coldly. "I didn't think Shannon had any friends—not female ones, anyway."

  "Well, we're not really friends," Nancy said. "I'm not from around here, but we have a friend in common."

  She followed Alison to the wrapping desk at the rear of the shop and waited while the other girl tore off a piece of paper from a notepad and scribbled something down. "Here you go," Alison said, handing the paper to Nancy. "I doubt if you'll be able to reach her, though. Shannon's probably spending the day with her boyfriend, Glenn."

  Nancy didn't have to fake her surprise. "Glenn? Gee, that's news to me! The last I heard, she was nuts about some guy with a weird name—Raphael, or something like that."

  "You mean Rafe Marino."

  "That sounds right." Nancy tucked the piece of paper into her shoulder bag. "Whatever happened to him?"

  "They broke up. Actually, he broke up with her right after he met this girl at the art school they both went to in the city," Alison said. "They got engaged back in September, and they're going to be married at Christmas. Rafe's fiancee is filthy rich, and what's more, she lives right outside Port Wellington at this big estate called Soundview. Ever heard of it?"

  "As I said, I'm not from around here," Nancy replied, evading the question. She glanced at a stack of boxes wrapped in white with elaborate silver bows. "Wedding presents?"

  Alison nodded. "I'll be taking them to Soundview later today. Shannon makes deliveries during the week, and I do it on weekends."

  "Poor Shannon!" Nancy sighed in mock sympathy. "Fd sure hate to deliver wedding presents to my former boyfriend's fiancee. But since Shannon has a new boyfriend, I guess she's gotten over Rafe."

  "Are you kidding? She's still nuts about him!" Alison scowled. "There's nothing she wouldn't do to get him back. The only reason Shannon started dating Glenn Maclnnes was to make Rafe jealous. She's just using him—she doesn't really care about Glenn at all."

  "But you do, don't you?" Nancy was beginning to get the picture, and it wasn't a pretty one.

  Alison abruptly turned away. "Not that it's any of your business, but yes, I do," she muttered. "Glenn was my boyfriend until Shannon got her hooks into him. Now he's so crazy about her that I might as well not even exist."

  "And you and Shannon still work together here at the Silver Palette? Wow, that must be rough," Nancy said. This time her sympathy was genuine.

  "Rough?" Alison gave a short, bitter laugh. "That's putting it mildly. Try impossible! After Shannon stole Glenn, I asked Chloe to change my schedule. Now I come in on weekends and evenings when Shannon's off. I haven't laid eyes on that witch in months, and if I never see her again it'll be too soon."

  The bells over the door had been tinkling nonstop, and now the shop was crowded with customers. "Alison!" Chloe yelled. "Get a move on! I could use a little help here!"

  "Coming!" Alison yelled back. "Got to get to work," she said to Nancy. "If you find your friend Shannon, do me a favor. Tell her I hope she has a rotten Christmas."

  As Nancy edged her way around the growing throng of holiday shoppers and stepped outside, she shivered, but not because of the cold. According to Alison, Shannon was ruthless in her pursuit of Rafe and would stop at nothing to get him back—and that might very well include trying to murder Rafe's bride-to-be.

  More determined than ever to track Shannon down, Nancy took the scrap of paper out of her shoulder bag and checked the address Alison had written down. Asking directions from a passerby, she found that 44 Cranford Street was within walking distance. She found it easily enough, but although Nancy rang the bell of the upstairs apartment in the small clapboard house several times, there was no response. At last she pressed the bottom bell, and the door opened immediately.

  "You don't give up easy, do you?" said the sour-faced man in the doorway when Nancy asked for Shannon. ''Shannon ain't here. Don't know where she's gone, don't know when she'll be back, don't want to be bothered." With that, he slammed the door in Nancy's face.

  "Friendly type," Nancy muttered.

  She trudged back to Main Street and spent the next several hours snooping around the village without turning up a trace of Shannon Mulcahey. Deciding to shift her focus to Glenn Maclnnes, Nancy looked him up in the phone book and dialed his number, not really expecting him to be home. She was right. All she got was the message on his machine. During lunch at the Copper Kettle, however, Nancy did manage to find out where Glenn worked from a chatty waitress. She went to Philbin's Hardware that afternoon.

  "I'm Glenn's cousin Bess Marvin from Chicago, and I need to speak to him right away," she told the bearded man behind the counter. **When I called him, he wasn't home. I realize it's Glenn's day off, but do you happen to know how I can get in touch with him? It's kind of important—family stuff, you know?"

  The man scratched his head. "Well, now, I'd like to help you, Miss Marvin, but I don't have any idea where Glenn is today. He mentioned he was going somewhere with his girlfriend, but he didn't say where and I didn't ask. For all I know they might have gone away for the weekend."

  Another dead end.

  Nancy left the store and retraced her steps to the red Corvette, where she called Ned on the car phone to tell him she was on her way back to Soundview.

  Nancy had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach as she headed toward Soundview. Someone was trying to kill Angela—and Nancy's prime suspect was nowhere to be found.

  Chapter Seven

  On Saturday night the balhoom of the Port WeUington Country Club was festooned with pine garlands twinkling with tiny white lights. An elaborately decorated Christmas tree sparkled in one comer, and on the bandstand a five-piece combo played pop classics while festively dressed couples danced. The tables surrounding the dance floor were draped in crimson damask, and candles nestling in Christmas centerpieces flickered on the smiling faces of the guests. It was the perfect setting for a joyous celebration of Angela and Rafe's upcoming marriage, Nancy thought, and under other conditions, she would have been having a wonderful time. As it was, however, she wasn't feeling at all cheery. After wasting most of the day on a wild-goose chase without catching so much as a glimpse of Shannon Mulcahey, Nancy had returned to Soundview to bathe and change for the dance. Promptly at six o'clock, Mr. and Mrs, Tremain drove off in their Mercedes, followed by Nancy, Ned, and a miserable Angela in the limousine.

  According to Ned, Rafe had phoned earlier that day while Nancy was out, but he had refused to talk to his fiancee. Instead, he'd left a message with Parker that he would meet her at the club, and from the moment Rafe arrived, Nancy was uncomfortably aware of the tension between him and Angela.

  The only good thing about this evening is cing with you," Ned murmured in Nancy's ear as they swayed in rhythm to a romantic melody. "It wasn't too bad while Mr. and Mrs. Tremain were here—at least Angela and Rafe put on a show for their benefit. But ever since they left, Angela's been about as lively as a zombie, and so has Rafe."

  Nancy rolled her eyes. "Tell me about it! It's not easy pretending to the Freemans and their friends that nothing's wrong when the bride and groom are barely speaking and didn't even arrive in the same car."

  "To tell you the truth, Rafe's attitude is beginning to bug me," Ned said. "Okay, he's ticked off at Angela, but it wouldn't have killed him to come with the rest of us instead of driving here himself."

  He glanced at his watch and winced. "It feels like midnight, but it's not even ten o'clock."

  "Why don't we see if the happy couple is ready to leave, okay?" Nancy suggested. "I heard Angela tell the chauffeur to pick us up at ten-thirty. If we're lucky, by the time we say goodbye to everybody, Arthur ought to be out in front."

  Ned brightened. "Good thinking. Let's go."

  They threaded their way through the crowd of dancers to the candlelit table where Angela and Raf
e sat in glum silence, avoiding each other's eyes. They were every bit as eager to get away as Nancy and Ned were, and after thanking their hosts and retrieving their coats, all four of them headed for the exit.

  But as they passed through the club's front door onto the main terrace, there was no sign of the limousine. They were about to go back inside until Arthur arrived when Rafe suddenly stopped dead in front of them.

  "What are you doing here?" he asked harshly.

  "Waiting for you, of course," a husky feminine voice purred from the shadows. "Everybody in town has heard about the Freemans' dinner dance, so I knew where to find you."

  As the strikingly beautiful, dark-haired young woman stepped into the light shed by the ornate lanterns on either side of the entrance, Angela gasped.

  So did Nancy. Gripping Ned's arm, she whispered, "That has to be Shannon Mulcahey!''

  Rafe's hands were clenched tightly at his sides. "Shannon, I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but whatever it is, count me out," he said. "Just go away and leave us alone!"

  " 'Us'?" Her blazing eyes darted from Rafe to Angela. "Oh, you mean you and little Miss Moneybags." She smiled when Angela flinched. "The name rings a bell, doesn't it? It's all true, you know, everything I wrote in that letter."

  "Don't listen to her, Angie," Rafe pleaded. "She's just trying to mess with your head!"

  But Angela didn't seem to hear him. She was staring at Shannon as though she were hypnotized.

  Shannon paid no attention to him, either. "Unfortunately for both of us, Rafe couldn't resist the temptation to get his hands on your inheritance," she said. "But you have to understand that he'll always be in love with me. If you marry him, he'll break your heart to pieces just like that pretty china plate."

  Angela finally found her voice. "You tried to kill me, too, didn't you?" she whispered. "You're the one who tampered with my saddle girth, hoping that I'd fall and break my neck."

  Shannon gave an incredulous laugh. '*What are you talking about? I don't even know what a saddle girth is. You are deluded, you poor little rich girl. I actually feel sorry for you. Take my advice and let Rafe go. You can always buy yourself another fiance."