002 Deadly Intent Read online

  A few minutes later, the three friends were seated around the table in the main room of the suite, drinking the Cokes they had ordered from room service. Nancy and George recounted the day’s events, from the newspaper headlines about Barton to their library research.

  Ned looked thoughtful. “So you think the trail of evidence could lead to that record producer—”

  “Harold Marshall,” George supplied.

  “Right, or the Nordquist woman, or even Alan?” Ned’s voice dropped as he uttered Bess’s boyfriend’s name. “So, I’m sharing a room with one of your suspects, Nancy?”

  Nancy shrugged. “I haven’t even seen Alan since you called, so I haven’t had a chance to ask him about sharing his room. And once I confront him about his lie, I’m not sure how generous he’s going to feel about doing any favors for my friends.” Nancy twisted a strand of hair around her index finger. “But don’t worry. There’s a couch in Dad’s room. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind having you stay with us.”

  As if on cue, the door to the suite opened, and Carson Drew stepped inside. “Ned! Well, hello. I thought I heard your voice. It’s good to see you again.”

  Ned stood up, and they shook hands. “Good to be here, Mr. Drew.”

  “So.” Carson Drew turned toward his daughter and George. “Anything new on the case?”

  “As a matter of fact, Dad, yes. I was wondering if you could arrange another meeting between me and Ann Nordquist. I need to talk to her.”

  “I’m sure she’d be happy to. In fact, I’ll ask her tonight at dinner.”

  “You mean you’re having another business meeting?” Nancy wondered if she should tell her father that Ann Nordquist was on her list of suspects. No, she decided. She’d keep it to herself until she had more information.

  Carson Drew liked to tease his daughter, to remind her that her detective’s methods were a direct contrast to his own lawyer’s procedure.

  “Not exactly,” he replied. “Actually, I asked her to dine with me more for pleasure.”

  Nancy felt a chill race through her. “For pleasure?” she echoed dully. Normally she would have been happy that her father had a dinner date. Her mother had died when she was a very little girl, and she felt it had been too long that her father had done without female companionship. He dated occasionally, but for the most part, when he had free time, he threw himself into extra work projects. But Ann Nordquist? The woman had seemed nice, but Nancy couldn’t get the China connection out of her mind.

  “Yes, for pleasure.” Carson Drew chuckled. “Your old father deserves to enjoy himself occasionally. And I find Ann Nordquist a very attractive, highly intelligent woman.”

  Nancy swallowed hard. “Oh,” she said, exchanging looks with George and Ned. “Well, I—I hope you have fun.” Her voice came out in a high, tight squeak. What if her father were going out with one of Barton Novak’s kidnappers?

  • • •

  “Psycho killer . . .” Vintage rock blared from the speakers, and dancers spun beneath the ultraviolet lights. The club was a study in downtown funk. A stage had been set up at the front, and the people milling around in the crowded room ranged from the utmost in fashionable to the totally outrageous.

  “Wow! Check that get-up,” Ned said, tapping Nancy on the arm.

  A girl with a rainbow-colored bristle of hair walked by the table where they sat, her slender body draped in black satin and lace.

  “What? Oh, yeah, I see her,” Nancy replied distractedly, glancing at the girl for only a brief second. Quickly, she turned her attention back to the entrance of the club, which was visible from her balcony perch. The second Alan and Bess walked through that doorway, she wanted to know about it.

  “Nan, they’ll be here soon,” Ned assured her gently. “Meanwhile, you might as well enjoy yourself. How often do you get to come to a place like this?” He reached out and trailed his fingers up her back.

  Nancy could feel the electric tingle of his touch. She inched her chair closer to his and rested her head on his shoulder, the softness of his sweater caressing her cheek. “Oh, Ned, I’m sorry. I guess I’m not a very good date.”

  “You’re the best. I just wish I could do something to cheer you up.”

  “Ned, sometimes I don’t think I deserve you. You come all the way from school to be with me, and I’m so wrapped up in this case I’m no fun at all.”

  “Hey, it’s okay. This is me, remember? I’ve stuck by you during lots of tough cases. I know what you’re going through.”

  Nancy lifted her head and looked into Ned’s brown eyes, her gaze holding his. “You’re not mad at me, are you, about what happened on the last case?”

  She couldn’t quite bring herself to pronounce Daryl’s name. Sure, she’d been a willing victim of Daryl’s sexy eyes and smooth personality, but it had been Ned who’d bailed her out of a dangerous situation during that case, and Ned who had been there for her once the criminals were safely behind bars.

  Ned cupped her face in his large hands. “It hurt, sure. I mean, if it hadn’t, I’d have to start wondering how much I really love you. And Nancy, I do love you.”

  Nancy held her breath, afraid to break the spell of the moment. But when Ned’s tender gaze left her face, she followed his glance.

  “Alan!” She was on her feet, the tough detective back in top form. “Let’s go!”

  Nancy and Ned flew down the back staircase and caught up with Alan and Bess at the coat checkroom. The attendant was already hanging up George’s coat. She must have gone ahead to check out the dance floor.

  “Nan! Hi. And Ned!” Bess gave him an exuberant hug while Alan greeted Nancy easily. “Hi. How’re you doing?”

  Nancy steeled herself. “I’d be a lot better if I could figure out why you lied to me about seeing Barton Novak.”

  Bess spun around, looking like she’d just been slapped. “What do you mean?” Her voice rose. “Alan wouldn’t lie, would you?” she asked, moving quickly to his side.

  Alan looked from Nancy to Bess, and then back to Nancy. “I, ah—”

  Bess was gazing up at Alan, who met her eyes and held her glance for a moment that seemed to go on forever. Nancy watched nervously. She couldn’t imagine anything worse than getting caught between them.

  “No,” Alan said finally, his voice stronger, “of course I wouldn’t lie.”

  “You told me you saw Barton wearing his purple bandanna,” Nancy said accusingly.

  “That’s right.”

  “Alan, the security guard at Radio City Music Hall found Barton’s bandanna last night after we left. He’s had it ever since.”

  Alan’s cheeks blazed under the colored lights. “Well, maybe . . . maybe there are two bandannas.”

  Nancy felt a rush of annoyance. Why was Alan playing games with her? “You know as well as I do that it’s a one-of-a-kind good luck charm. Every article written about Barton mentions that.”

  Alan shifted from one foot to the other. Bess’s gaze was still frozen on him. “So, um, suppose I remembered wrong. Suppose he wasn’t wearing the bandanna. What’s the big deal?” He raised his eyes and looked at Bess, a note of pleading in his voice. “You believe I saw him, don’t you?”

  “Of course I do,” Bess responded. She whirled to face Nancy. “What’s gotten into you?” she snapped.

  Bess’s angry tone stung Nancy like a bitter wind. “Bess, I don’t mean to hurt you, but I don’t think Alan is telling the truth. Doesn’t it strike you as a little weird that in the last two days, one of the few people to have any contact with Barton Novak is someone who barely knows him? Not even Barton’s sister or his best friends have heard from him.”

  “Why would I lie?” Alan said after what felt like an interminable pause. “I feel kind of like Barton’s my brother. I mean, I learned all about rock and roll from listening to him. Now we’re even recording on the same label.”

  “That’s just it! Frankly, Alan, your instant success hasn’t felt right to me since the second you told me.
We all know how good you are, but you’re not a professional. Not yet. And World is a label for professionals. You know what I think? I think Harold Marshall offered you that contract in return for throwing me off the scent.”

  Nancy waited for Alan’s response, but it was Bess who jumped forward, her face inches from Nancy’s, her hands clenched. “Nancy Drew! I thought you were one of my very best friends. What a jerk I was. Alan got that contract on talent. Pure talent. And if you’re too dense to realize that, at least you ought to keep your opinions to yourself!” She spun on her heels, grabbing Alan’s arm and maneuvering him away. “We don’t need to waste our time with people like that,” Nancy heard her say.

  “Wait, Bess!” Nancy called out frantically. She started after her friend, but Ned put out a restraining hand.

  “Nancy, why don’t you wait until she’s cooled off.”

  “She’s never going to cool off, Ned. Bess is going to hate me forever.” Nancy watched her friend storm off, rigid with fury, never once looking back.

  Chapter

  Nine

  GEORGE WHIRLED AROUND the dance floor with one partner after another—first Linda Ferrare’s cousin, then Jim Parker, and finally a friend Jim had brought with him. Across the room, Bess was also dancing, laughing and clearly making a show of having a wonderful time.

  But Nancy’s feet seemed to stick to the floor. Her body barely swayed to the song pulsing in the smoky air.

  “Nancy, maybe we ought to call it a night,” Ned shouted over the loud music.

  Nodding her head wearily, Nancy stopped dancing. Ned put his arm around her shoulders and guided her off the floor. “I’ll bet Bess doesn’t stay mad at you for more than a few hours,” he consoled her.

  Nancy’s glance strayed to Bess and Alan, who were rocking to an old Rolling Stones tune. As if sensing that she was being watched, Bess turned and shot icy daggers with her glance across the crowded room. Then she guided Alan around, leaving Nancy to stare at her back. “I don’t know,” Nancy said glumly. “Besides, it’s not just Bess. It’s Barton and the record pirating and my father going out with Ann Nordquist . . .”

  “Look, at this point, you don’t know if Ann Nordquist is anything more than an enthusiastic tourist, right?” Ned asked. “She might not have anything to do with the pirating at all.”

  “Maybe not. I mean, she did seem really sweet when I met her, but the Chinese connection is the only plausible link I’ve been able to turn up so far between that wallet I found and the record scam.”

  “The key words are ‘so far,’ Nan. You don’t know anything for certain yet. So how about if we head back to the hotel and you try to relax and get a good night’s rest. Tomorrow you’ll have lots of energy. Maybe you’ll be able to crack this case once and for all.”

  The corners of Nancy’s mouth turned up for the first time all evening. “Okay, Mom.”

  “Just giving you good, sensible advice, my dear,” teased Ned in a high voice.

  They got their coats and said their goodbyes, making plans to have breakfast with George the next morning.

  “See you in the hotel dining room,” George said as Nancy and Ned were leaving. “And Nancy, don’t get freaked out about Bess. She’ll come around. She loves you to pieces, just like I do.”

  Nancy gave George a big hug. “Thanks. You’re the best.”

  “Yeah, you’re a good friend,” Ned agreed, giving George an affectionate pat on the back.

  “Hey, hey, please. You don’t want me to get a swollen ego, do you?” George winked.

  Nancy and Ned headed for the exit. Cool, crisp air greeted Nancy as she stepped outside. She inhaled the night, savoring the relative quiet after the pulsing music and din of voices in the club. The street was dark. Except for a street-lamp down the block, the only source of light was the club’s marquee.

  “Something catch your eye?” Ned asked.

  “No. Just thinking what this street must look like in the daytime. Pretty dingy, I guess.” Nancy’s eyes slowly gazed up and down the street.

  “Yeah, there’s some difference between the junk piled out here and the way the club’s fixed up.” Ned’s hand gently took hold of Nancy’s. “Do you want to walk for a while? It may be seedy down here, but I don’t think it’s dangerous.”

  Nancy smiled. Maybe now was a good time for them to work on their relationship. “I’d love a walk with you, Ned. Dangerous or not.”

  Ned could feel the sincerity in her words. Slowly he leaned forward to kiss her.

  “Ned? Ned Nickerson?” The mood was broken by a short young man who was leaving the club behind them. He rushed up to them, brushing his wavy brown hair out of one eye.

  Ned took a hard look at him. “Dave, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah. Dave Peck. Long time no see, buddy.” Dave stuck out a leather-gloved hand, and Nancy could see a thick gold chain bracelet studded with gems that sparkled under the streetlights.

  Ned grasped Dave’s hand in his. “Yes . . . a long time. I guess I didn’t recognize you all . . . all dressed up.”

  “Yup. Great new threads, don’t you think?” Dave patted his leather jacket, which was decorated with tucks and folds and numerous zippers. He wore it open, revealing a short, muscular body in a pair of beige slacks and a silk shirt, several of the top buttons open to show off more gold jewelry. On his feet were a pair of green snakeskin cowboy boots.

  “Oh, Nancy, this is Dave Peck. We know each other from school. Dave, my girlfriend, Nancy.”

  “Hello,” Nancy said, trying to imagine Dave at Emerson College. Somehow she couldn’t quite picture him burning the midnight oil. At least not over books.

  As Dave turned toward her, the smile on his face slipped away. He stared at her with his mouth open, his eyes wide, as if she were a frightening vision from the past.

  “Is something wrong?” Nancy asked.

  Dave gave his head a hard shake. “Oh . . . no. No, I’m happy to meet you.” He grasped her hand, and through his tight gloves Nancy could feel a large ring on one finger. “Any pal of Nickerson’s is a pal of mine.” He turned his attention back to Ned. “So, what’s happening?”

  “The usual,” Ned responded politely. “Studying, going to classes. Midterms are coming up in a few weeks.”

  “So, you’re just in town for a vacation?”

  Ned nodded. “We had Friday off because Emerson is hosting an education conference. I decided to spend the three-day weekend here with Nancy. How about you? What are you doing these days?”

  Clearly that was the question Dave had been waiting for. “Man, I’ve got to tell you, dropping out of school was the best thing I ever did.”

  So that’s his story, Nancy thought.

  “Life is great,” Dave went on. “Couldn’t be better. No more forcing myself to get up in the morning and go to classes. No more tests or papers. I do what I want. Lots of money, lots of chicks.” He gave a lewd laugh and flashed Ned a thumbs-up sign. “No offense to the little lady,” he added to Nancy.

  Nancy gritted her teeth.

  “Yup. This is a great town if you’re into success. Got myself a great little business.”

  “You’ve got your own business?” Ned blurted out.

  “Well, actually I’ve got a—sort of a partner,” Dave hedged.

  Nancy found herself betting anything that Dave’s so-called partner was, in truth, his boss. She could tell that Ned didn’t quite buy his story either. Though whatever Dave was doing, it was plain that he did have money to throw around.

  “So, what is it you do?” Ned asked, as if reading Nancy’s mind. “I wouldn’t mind a little extra pocket money,” he kidded.

  “A little of this, a little of that,” Dave replied vaguely. “But I still like to keep up with the rock scene. No better place for it in the world than right here in this city.”

  “I guess not,” Ned said. “Well, it was nice talking to you, Dave. We’d better get going.”

  “Sure. There’s my limo anyhow.” Dave pointed to
a black stretch limo pulling around the corner and stopping across the street from the club.

  “Wow, that’s some car.” Ned couldn’t hide his astonishment.

  “She’s a beaut, huh?” Dave said smugly. “Well, good bumping into you, pal. Nice to meet you, Nancy.” His words were cordial, but Nancy caught the peculiar look in his eye again as he addressed her.

  “ ’Bye, Dave.” Nancy watched him go, stepping into the street. She gave a little shudder. Dave was definitely not her idea of a nice guy. And she seemed to make him uncomfortable, too.

  “What is it about him?” she said to Ned. “He gives me the creeps.”

  “Yeah, he’s pretty weird. Truth is, he didn’t drop out of school; he got kicked out. Never did a bit of work. I don’t know why he was there in the first place. The only thing he seemed at all into was his part-time job at the Emerson Record World. But there was some problem there too. I have the feeling he got fired. Anyway, I stopped seeing him there when I went in to buy albums. Pretty soon after that, I stopped seeing him around campus at all.”

  “A record store, Ned?” Nancy asked, a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach. “Isn’t it a little weird, all this record stuff?” Nancy watched Dave climb into the back of the limo. Then the thought hit like a cyclone. “Oh no, Ned!” Her voice was low. “He fits the exact description.”

  “What description? What are you saying?”

  “I think Dave might have been one of the guys backstage the night Barton disappeared! He could even have been the one who hit me over the head. Maybe that’s why he kept giving me such funny looks!”

  Nancy darted from the club entrance into the street, determined to make out the license plate before the limo vanished. But just as she passed a pile of crates, Ned cried, “Nancy, look out!” Nancy had never heard such panic in his voice. She turned suddenly, looking back at him, but lost her balance.

  As she fell, her eyes caught the glint of something metallic cutting through the air and heading straight for her. Her body slammed onto the sidewalk as a knife jammed into a crate just inches away. It quivered there, giving its serpentine handle the illusion of movement.