010 Buried Secrets Read online

  Slowly Nancy felt her way across the floor to her car. Opening the door, she crawled in and stretched uncomfortably across the seats. The gearshift was jabbing her in the ribs. I’ll do this, she thought, but there’s no way I’m not going to look up when that door opens.

  In another few seconds, Nancy heard clanging and whirring as the garage door lifted. She forced herself to count to three. Then she lifted her head just in time to see a crouched, shadowy figure slip under the door.

  Quickly Nancy slid out of her car and ran out to the driveway. The neighborhood was quiet and well lit by streetlights and a few porch lights. But as far as Nancy could tell, she was the only person around.

  A rustling sound made her jump. She whirled around, expecting to see someone creeping along the side of the house. Instead, she saw only the shrubbery blowing in the light wind.

  You should have moved faster, she told herself. She walked down the driveway to the street, hoping to see someone fleeing the neighborhood, but she knew it was useless. Her nighttime visitor was long gone.

  Carefully Nancy locked the garage door and went into the house. As she walked into her room, a thought suddenly hit her. If somebody had threatened her, had he threatened Brenda, too?

  You should call her, Nancy told herself. If Brenda had gotten cornered in a dark garage by a stranger with a deep-throated whisper, she’d probably collapse and be out of commission for a week.

  Having Brenda off her back for a week wasn’t such a bad idea, actually! Still, Nancy went to the phone, found the number, and dialed.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Brenda said after Nancy had explained why she’d called. “Nobody’s told me to stay away from the Harrington case.”

  “Well, just keep your eyes open,” Nancy suggested. “This is my second warning, remember? The first one was on the cliff road today.”

  “But I don’t get it.” Brenda sounded indignant. “Why haven’t I gotten a warning, too?”

  Probably because you’re not much of a detective, Nancy thought. Out loud, she said, “I don’t know, Brenda. I just thought I ought to let you know what’s happened.”

  “Well, I suppose I should thank you,” Brenda said, trying to sound grateful. “But no one’s going to stop me from solving this case.”

  No one’s going to stop me, either, Nancy thought as she fell into bed. I don’t care if it’s Neil Gray or Charles Ogden or Todd Harrington or even the mayor of River Heights. No one is going to keep me from figuring this one out.

  • • •

  The next morning Nancy was sitting in the kitchen, eating an English muffin and trying to decide what to do. So far, she’d had no luck finding Neil Gray or Charles Ogden, but at least she knew where Mayor Abbott was. The problem was, her appointment with him wasn’t until the afternoon, and she hated wasting a whole morning without following a single lead.

  The doorbell rang, and when Nancy answered it, she was surprised to see a mailman standing there.

  “Express letter for Miss Nancy Drew,” he said.

  “That’s me,” Nancy told him. She took the letter and closed the door, wondering if it, too, would be another warning.

  The letter read: “Thanks again for your flying leap. If I ever get elected, want to be my bodyguard? Todd Harrington.”

  Nancy laughed. Todd’s a real charmer, she thought. She just hoped he was sincere and that he wasn’t the one who was trying to stop her from investigating his father’s death.

  Then Nancy remembered—Todd had left that day for a town-by-town campaign tour of his district. She wanted to have a good look around that tower office, and with Todd gone, she could get into Harrington House without his even knowing about it.

  Half an hour later, dressed in a khaki safari jumpsuit with a canvas belt, Nancy was back in the Mustang, heading toward Harrington House. Remembering the day before, she kept a close eye on every black car she saw, but as far as she could tell, none of them followed her. She kept a lookout for Brenda’s red tomato, too. She wouldn’t put anything past Brenda Carlton.

  But it wasn’t Brenda Nancy saw as she drove near to the cliff road. It was Bess and George, in bright-colored sweat suits, jogging together along the street where the gasoline truck had just missed getting blown up. Actually, Nancy noticed, it was George who was doing the jogging. What Bess was doing could only be called a shuffle.

  Pulling up to the side of the road, Nancy stuck her head out the window and called, “Hey! Need a ride?”

  George, her dark hair bouncing, waved and kept trotting in place, but Bess stopped completely. Her lavender sweat suit was drenched, her blond hair was tangled, and her cheeks were as red as Brenda Carlton’s car.

  “Nan,” Bess said breathlessly, “you’ll never know how glad I am you came by. We’ve been jogging for hours, and I haven’t run into a single good-looking guy yet. I’ve been breathing so much dust I’m choking, and I’m totally wiped out.”

  “We’ve only been jogging for fifteen minutes,” George told her. “And you said you wanted to keep going.”

  “That was before I saw Nancy’s car,” Bess said. “Now that I’ve seen it, I’m ready to collapse.”

  “Well, okay,” George agreed as they walked over to climb in. “I guess you shouldn’t go too long the first day out, anyway.”

  “First day and last day,” Bess moaned, collapsing into the seat.

  Laughing, Nancy told her friends where she was going. Immediately they wanted to come along. As she drove, Nancy filled them in on everything that had happened so far.

  “He was waiting for you in the garage?” Bess said, her eyes wide. “I would have panicked.”

  “I almost did,” Nancy admitted. “But I had the feeling he wasn’t out to hurt me. Whoever it was just wanted to scare me off.”

  “But what happens when he finds out you’re not scared off?” George asked.

  “I don’t know,” Nancy said. “I just have to hope I find him first, I guess.”

  Nancy didn’t bother going all the way to the iron gates. She pulled the Mustang into one of the small turnaround spaces in the road.

  “Don’t tell me we have to hike the rest of the way up,” Bess said.

  Nancy laughed. “Actually, yes, but it’s only a short distance. You might have to climb a bit, though,” she told her. “Are your feet up to it?”

  “Actually, I’m feeling okay now. And,” Bess added, “with a little food, I’ll be completely recovered.”

  “Food?” George asked. “Who’s got food?”

  “I do.” Bess reached under her sweatshirt and pulled out a small leather bag that she’d strapped around her waist. “I have two chicken sandwiches in here,” she said. “I always come prepared.”

  The three friends got out of the car and followed the wall to the spot where Nancy had seen Todd Harrington’s “second door.” Pulling back the shrubbery, Nancy waved at the crumbling wall.

  “This isn’t exactly the way to go to somebody’s house,” George said jokingly.

  “I know,” Nancy agreed. “But I don’t want anyone to see me going in. Besides,” she added, “it’s easier than climbing those front gates.”

  “That’s fine with me,” Bess said, putting one foot on a rock. “Come on, I’m dying to see this place.”

  The wall was easy to climb. In just a couple of minutes, the three girls had dropped softly onto the velvety grass of the Harrington House grounds.

  But before any of them could take a step, two dogs came bounding out of a stand of trees, heading straight for them. The dogs were Doberman pinschers, black and lean and fast, and as they got closer, the girls could see that their fangs were bared.

  They were ready to attack.

  Chapter

  Eight

  INSTANTLY THE THREE girls started scrambling back up the wall.

  “I just decided I love jogging!” Bess gasped. “In fact, I think I’ll run all the way home!”

  “I didn’t know they had attack dogs!” Nancy
cried.

  “Well, those dogs aren’t going to give up,” Bess said. “They look as though they’re ready to climb right after us. George, why don’t you try one of your judo moves on them?”

  “I hate to tell you, but I’ve never used judo on a dog,” George said. “And I don’t think I want to try now.”

  The girls were almost over the wall when they noticed that the dogs weren’t barking anymore. Nancy looked over her shoulder, and what she saw made her laugh. “Bess,” she said, “your lunch may have saved our lives.”

  In the rush to get over the wall, Bess’s leather bag had fallen and the sandwiches had spilled to the ground. The two dogs were now feasting on chicken, totally ignoring the terrified girls.

  “I’m glad it’s chicken and not us,” Bess commented. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  “Wait a second,” George said. “Look at the dogs. They’re not acting so mad anymore, are they?”

  Finished eating, the dogs now stood looking up at the girls, panting and licking their lips. One of them sniffed the empty bag, looked up again, and wagged its stump of a tail.

  “What a couple of fakers!” Nancy said. “They aren’t really attack dogs—they’re just here to scare people away.”

  “And they do a great job,” Bess remarked. “Come on, you guys, let’s go.”

  But Nancy had already started climbing back down the wall, talking softly and holding out the back side of her hand for the dogs to sniff. “It’s okay,” she called to the other two. “They’re not going to have us for dessert.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Bess said. But she followed George back down the wall and cautiously patted one of the dogs on the head. “The next time, I’ll bring steak,” she told the dog. It whined. “Uh-oh,” she said. “I think he knows that word.”

  “Okay, let’s go to the house,” Nancy said. “These dogs might start barking again if they realize we’re empty-handed.”

  Trailed by the dogs, Nancy, Bess, and George walked across the grounds until they came to the main door of Harrington House. It was huge, with brass hinges and a brass lion’s-head knocker.

  “I’m surprised there isn’t an armed guard,” George remarked. “This place looks like a fortress.”

  “I get the feeling I won’t be able to break into this door very easily,” Nancy agreed. “I might as well knock.”

  Nancy slammed the knocker three times. As she was raising it for the fourth time, the door was pulled open by a young man. Wearing faded jeans and a blue sweatshirt, he looked worried and busy, but he definitely didn’t look threatening.

  When he saw the girls, his frown disappeared. “Oh, great!” he said. “I was afraid you’d never get here.”

  “So were we,” Bess told him.

  “Well, come on in,” he said, waving the manila folder he was holding. “I’ll show you what to do.”

  As they followed him across a marble-floored entry hall the size of Nancy’s living room, George whispered, “Who do you suppose he thinks we are?”

  “I don’t know,” Nancy whispered back. “Let’s play along and find out.”

  “Good idea,” Bess said. “He’s really cute.”

  The young man led them down another narrower hall and into a large room, whose walls were lined with books. Leather armchairs had been moved aside, and in the middle of the room was a long wooden table piled with papers and boxes of envelopes.

  “There are coffee and doughnuts over there,” he said, pointing to a smaller table by the fireplace. “So get comfortable and start stuffing.”

  “Start what?” Bess asked.

  “Stuffing,” he said. “You’re volunteers, right? You’re here to stuff campaign flyers?”

  “That’s right,” Nancy said quickly.

  “Good. My name’s Barry, by the way,” he told her. “I’m in charge until Todd and his manager get back. So if you have any questions, just ask. I’ll be in the next room—that’s where the phones are.”

  When Barry left the room, Nancy burst out laughing. “Sorry, you guys. If we stay here long enough, I’ll figure out a way to get into that tower. I hope you don’t mind stuffing a few envelopes.”

  “Just as long as I don’t have to lick them,” George said.

  “I don’t mind at all.” Helping herself to a powdered-sugar doughnut, Bess sat down at the long table. “Barry’s the best-looking guy I’ve seen all day!”

  A few hours, two doughnuts, and hundreds of envelopes later, Nancy was beginning to wonder if she’d ever get out of that room. Barry kept popping his head in, making sure they were doing okay, but he never once suggested that they take a break. It wasn’t really fair to keep Bess and George there so long, but since they hadn’t complained yet, Nancy decided to give it another half hour.

  Ten minutes later Barry stuck his head around the door again. “Still going strong, I see.”

  Bess stood up and stretched, giving him one of her brightest smiles. “We could go a lot stronger if we had a break, Barry. Don’t you think the help deserves a little time off?”

  Barry looked surprised. “Well, sure, no problem. In fact, I have some hero sandwiches in the other room. Care to join me?”

  “That sounds great,” Nancy told him, “but what we really need is a little exercise. Maybe we’ll just take a walk around the grounds, if that’s okay.”

  “Fine. But take a couple of doughnuts for the dogs,” he said. “Feed them and they’re your friends. Otherwise, they tend to hold a grudge.”

  After Barry left, Nancy counted to twenty. Then she left the library, followed by Bess and George. The three of them went down the hall, through what looked like a ballroom, and down another hall until they reached a back staircase. They took the stairs up to the third floor. At the end of a corridor was a narrow circular staircase.

  “This has to be it,” Nancy said. “Come on, let’s get up to that tower room.”

  The door to John Harrington’s tower office obviously hadn’t been opened in a long time. Its hinges creaked as Nancy pushed it, and when they went in, a musty smell almost knocked them over.

  “Whatever you’re looking for, I hope you find it fast,” Bess said, fanning the air. “I don’t think I can breathe for long in here.”

  “What are you looking for, anyway?” George asked.

  “I don’t know,” Nancy admitted. “Any clue. Something that will tell me what happened up here thirty years ago.”

  As she talked, Nancy moved around the office pulling dustcovers off the furniture. She opened the desk drawers, hoping something amazing would be there, but all she saw were papers, yellowed with age.

  She was just about to give up when Bess called out. “Hey, look what I found!”

  Turning, Nancy saw a panel in the wall slide open. She crossed the room and watched with Bess and George as a dumbwaiter rose creakily from the depths of the house.

  “Really nice,” George commented. “Whenever John Harrington got hungry, he just sent down to the kitchen for a snack.”

  “I should have known Harrington House would have one of these,” Nancy said.

  By sitting bent at the waist, Nancy could fit inside the dumbwaiter and almost be comfortable. After climbing back out, she pushed the button on the wall and sent the dumbwaiter slowly back down. Before closing the panel, Nancy stuck her head in the shaft and looked around. Along the inside of the wall she saw a bunch of wires that weren’t connected to the dumbwaiter.

  Nancy pushed the button again; the dumbwaiter started moving back up. Peering along the inside of the wall, Nancy saw that the wires led into the back of a black box. She pulled her head back in and walked down the room until she came to the spot on the wall where the box had to be.

  “What is it, Nan?” Bess asked.

  “I think it’s a tape recorder!” Nancy said, running her fingers along the wall. “Feel.”

  The wall wasn’t completely solid, and behind a canvas covering painted to look like the rest of the paneling, Bess and G
eorge could feel the outlines of an open-reel recorder.

  “Weird,” George said. “I wonder why he hid it.”

  “I was wondering exactly the same thing,” Nancy told her.

  “Maybe he liked music,” Bess said, “but he didn’t want to have to look at the machine. After all, those old ones weren’t very pretty.”

  “Yes, but where are the tapes?” Nancy wondered. “I looked through all the drawers and cabinets. There’s not a single tape anywhere.”

  “Somebody must have packed them away,” George said.

  Feeling along the wall again, Nancy found two more canvas coverings, smaller than the one for the tape recorder. “I’ll bet these are speakers,” she said. “If I win, you stuff the rest of my envelopes.”

  “You mean we’re staying here?” Bess asked. “Sorry, Nan. Barry’s cute, but I don’t think I could stuff one more envelope. Not even for him.”

  Laughing, Nancy was just about to rip the canvas away from the wall when the office door was flung open.

  A man was standing in the doorway. A tall, thin man who looked furious. He had a shotgun in his hands. It was pointed straight at Nancy.

  Chapter

  Nine

  WHAT ARE YOU doing in here?” the man growled, his voice deep and threatening. “This room is off-limits!” He waved his shotgun, motioning them toward the door. “Get out. Now, before I use this on you!”

  “Wait just a minute,” Nancy said. “Before we tell you who we are, why don’t you tell us who you are?”

  “I’m the caretaker—not that it’s any of your business,” he told her. “And my business is keeping trespassers off this property.”

  “Trespassers!” Bess tried to sound insulted. “For your information, we happen to be volunteers for Todd Harrington’s campaign.”

  “Oh? Then what are you doing up here?” he asked.

  “We didn’t know where to go,” Nancy told him, quickly making up the story. “The front door was open and nobody was here, so we just wandered around the house until we found this room.” She took a few steps toward the man, staring at him angrily. “And let me tell you, if Mr. Harrington hears about this, he’s not going to be happy. So why don’t you stop pointing that gun at us and tell us where we’re supposed to be?”