Very Deadly Yours Read online

  “So he just opened the door and walked away,” Nancy muttered. “It’s as simple as that. Well, my friend, you’re still not going to get away.”

  She jumped to her feet. The rain had started up again. A misty haze rose from the pavement and the strip of field bordering it. Beyond the field was the straggly edge of a forest whose trees loomed pale and ghostlike above a tangled mass of underbrush.

  Nancy sighed. If the mysterious driver had somehow managed to hitch a ride, she’d never find him. She did decide to try looking for him in the woods before she went back to her car. She jotted down the wreck’s license-plate number on a small pad in her purse and stepped gingerly into the cold, sodden grass. Instantly her heels sank into the mud. I would be wearing pumps, she thought.

  By the time she had squelched her way across the strip of field, Nancy’s shoes were clammy and her clothes were clinging to her in damp folds. The rain was coming down harder now, and it was getting dark. Nancy was glad there was a flashlight in the first-aid kit. She’d need it.

  Now she was standing on drenched leaves at the edge of the woods, peering uncertainly into the trees. A rivulet of water trickled off a branch overhead and dripped right down her collar. Shivering, Nancy pulled out her flashlight and played the beam back and forth.

  All it revealed were tree trunks, vines, and shadows. Well, what did you expect? Nancy asked herself. She pulled her blazer closer around her and stepped forward into the darkness.

  A branch snapped in the dark ahead of her. Was it a footstep? As she struggled along through the heavy piles of fallen leaves, Nancy was suddenly sure someone was watching her.

  Then a man stepped out from behind a tree into her path.

  “Bill Stark!” Nancy exclaimed, surprised to see one of the mailroom employees from the Record, the one who had acted so scared during the bomb threat.

  He laughed. “Nancy Drew!” he answered mockingly.

  His pale eyes were glittering in the flashlight beam, and he was shivering uncontrollably. His hands were behind his back as if he were hiding something—a gun? He took another step toward her, but Nancy stood her ground.

  Her mind was racing. How much did Bill know she knew? She had better try to sound as ignorant as she could—as though running into an acquaintance in the middle of the woods by an express ramp could happen to anyone.

  “Is that your car back there?” she asked.

  “You know it is,” Bill answered.

  “I—I can’t believe it! You’re so lucky to be alive! When I heard that car crash, I said to myself, ‘Boy, whoever was in that car is in big trouble!’ ” Nancy knew she sounded inane, but maybe that would disarm him. “And then, when I saw that the car was empty, I started to wonder if I’d just been imagining things!” She forced a laugh and hoped it didn’t sound as fake to Bill as it did to her.

  But Bill didn’t seem to be listening. “I told you to stay away,” he growled.

  “Oh, you’re the one who left me that message? Well, that wasn’t a very nice thing to do. Besides, you know how we girls are—tell us not to do a thing, and we just want to do it all the more!” Nancy was glad none of her friends was around to hear her.

  “Yeah?” Bill said. “Well, that’s too bad for you.”

  It wasn’t working. Nancy decided to drop the ruse and try to gain his confidence. If he trusted her, he might be less likely to hurt her. She still couldn’t tell if he had a gun, but it was wise to anticipate the worst.

  “Okay, Bill,” she said quietly. “I didn’t mean to insult your intelligence. I just—I just got a little nervous.” That was true, anyway. Being alone in the woods on a rainy night with a guy who had already tried to put her out of commission wasn’t exactly soothing. “What’s going on, anyway?” she continued. “Why do you have it in for me?”

  “I told you to stay away!” Bill repeated. “Why couldn’t you have left well enough alone? I wouldn’t have hurt Bess—I just wanted to make sure she’d stay off my back!”

  She had to try to keep him talking. “So you placed that first ad,” she said.

  “Of course I did. Your friend should never have butted in.”

  “Butted in? What are you talking about?”

  Bill just continued as if he hadn’t heard her. “She led me on. Making me think she was the right girl—and then I could tell she had no idea what I was talking about. Well, then, why’d she answer the ad in the first place?”

  “So you weren’t looking for a date,” Nancy said, though she already knew the answer. “You needed to find the girl in white for another reason.”

  “Of course!” Bill said impatiently. “Do you think I’m the kind of guy who has to get a date through the Personals?”

  His sudden show of pride was so unexpected that Nancy laughed. But she realized instantly that that had been a bad move. Bill’s face went dark with rage.

  “Then you had to butt in, too,” he snarled, thrusting his face closer to hers. “I was watching when you brought her to the paper that first time. I have to give you credit—you still came into the building after I dumped those bricks.”

  “How’d you manage that, anyway?” Nancy asked in a tone of polite interest.

  “Oh, I just happened to be up on the roof at the time,” Bill said offhandedly. “I’ve got a master key to the door up there. I recognized Bess and pushed the cart over the edge.” He broke into a fit of coughing and stamped his feet to warm them. It was practically dark now, and the night was getting colder and colder. Nancy was shivering herself—whether from cold or tension she wasn’t sure.

  “I have to tell you, I couldn’t believe it when I saw you two walk in,” Bill went on. “And when I overheard your name—well, I know who the famous Nancy Drew is. I should have realized it would take more than a couple of phone calls to stop you.”

  “Yes,” Nancy said bleakly. “Even hitting Ned didn’t stop me.” It was just starting to sink in that she was standing around talking to the guy who’d almost killed her boyfriend. It was hard to keep talking to him under the circumstances, but she had to get more of his story.

  “Sorry about your boyfriend, by the way,” Bill said. He sounded as if he was apologizing for spilling her coffee. “I meant to hit you, of course.”

  “Of course,” Nancy echoed. “But don’t be too hard on yourself. After all, you did manage to knock me out. If that was you last night, I mean.”

  “Yeah. I was standing and reading the message while you were writing it down. You didn’t even know I was there. I decided to meet you there. Too bad the girl in white didn’t show up. You must have written the address down wrong.”

  Nancy ignored that. “And you’re the one who made the bomb threat, too?” she asked.

  “Well, what else could I do?” Bill complained. “I was keeping an eye on you—an ear, I should say.” He laughed. “When I heard you tell Whittaker you were going to call Bess, I had to stop you somehow.”

  “I thought it was Lena,” Nancy said, half to herself.

  Bill snickered. “I knew you would. I put that fake message on her desk, too—the one asking her to run another ad midweek. Poor Lena. She never had a chance of getting you to believe her after that. Pretty smart, don’t you think?”

  “Brilliant,” Nancy said sarcastically.

  Bill didn’t seem to notice her tone. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere,” he said darkly.

  All right, Nancy thought. That’s my cue.

  She lowered the flashlight slightly, trying to see if there was any stick on the ground big enough to use as a weapon. “But you still haven’t told me what that ad meant in the first place,” she reminded Bill. “If you weren’t advertising for a date, what did you want? And why did you keep asking Bess what she’d done with the money?” There was a broken-off branch about six feet to the left. Maybe she could edge toward it gradually.

  “I’ve told you too much already,” Bill snapped. “But I guess it doesn’t matter. You won’t get the chance to tell anyone else. What
are you looking for?” he asked suddenly.

  “Nothing. I—I just thought I’d dropped my car keys.” Nancy was having trouble concentrating. Above the steady patter of the rain, she’d just noticed another sound: running water. There was a stream—or at least a brook—nearby, and Nancy thought it sounded as though it was in a gully of some kind. If she got desperate, she could run down the gully and try to escape that way. But she’d better leave that as a last resort.

  “Well, Bill, I really have to hand it to you,” she said. Maybe she could soothe him into a better mood. “You’re one of the most intelligent guys I’ve ever tried to catch. How did you manage to—”

  “Just shut up, will you?” snarled Bill. “I’m tired of talking to you. And anyway”—he was suddenly glaring suspiciously at her—“I didn’t hear you drop any keys.”

  “Well, I can’t find them in here. We may need them, Bill—you might want me to drive you somewhere.” Nancy opened her purse and pretended to search it. The keys were lying right on top of her tissues, and she quickly closed her hand over them so they wouldn’t jingle. “Oh, no! They’re just not in here!” she moaned. “I know I heard them fall— Wait, are they there by your foot?”

  Startled, Bill looked down—and in that split second Nancy grabbed the broken branch and jabbed him hard in the stomach. He doubled up and fell to the ground, and Nancy took off toward the rushing water she had heard.

  He can’t have a gun, she thought, or he’d have fired it by now. She ran even faster toward the watery sound.

  Yes. It was a brook at the bottom of a steep twenty-foot slope. Without a second’s pause Nancy scrambled down the slope. Wet branches kept slapping her in the face, and the spongy, leaf-covered hill was terrifyingly slippery underfoot, but she didn’t let herself think about anything until she had reached the bottom.

  Then she heard a crashing in the underbrush above. “I’ll get you now, Drew!” Bill yelled furiously. He was coming after her.

  Her flashlight! She’d forgotten all about it! Quickly Nancy switched it off. Then she began backing away, praying that the sound of the water would cover the sound of her footsteps.

  “I can still see you,” Bill called down in a terrifyingly calm voice. “You’ll be better off if you just stop where you are. I’m not in the mood for another one of these chase scenes.”

  Maybe he was just bluffing. It was definitely too dark for Nancy to see him. She kept on backing away. One slow step backward, then another—

  And then she tripped over a rock and reeled over toward the brook, landing on her hands and knees in water so icy that she couldn’t hold back a gasp.

  “Oh, there you are!” Bill said in a happy little singsong. “Just hang on. I’ll be right down to give you a hand.”

  Nancy heard the underbrush crackle as he stepped forward. “Hey!” he said sharply. “I can’t—”

  Suddenly he screamed, and Nancy heard him crashing down the slope. With a horrible thud he landed on the rocks below.

  The only sound was the mocking gurgle of the brook.

  Chapter

  Thirteen

  NANCY WAS STILL holding her flashlight. She switched it on and saw Bill Stark lying crumpled at the bottom of the gully. As she raced toward him, she had a horrible sense of déjà vu.

  Only this time she wasn’t racing toward her boyfriend but toward the man who had tried to kill her. And this time there was no one to help her. She was alone in the dark woods. Whatever happened to Bill would be entirely up to her.

  She knelt down by Bill and gently touched his shoulder. His eyelids flickered and half opened. “No,” he moaned. “What’s—where am . . .” His eyes closed again, and he turned his head away.

  So he was alive after all. I should leave you here, Nancy thought bitterly. Maybe that would give you time to think about what you did to Ned and Bess. But she knew she couldn’t do that. She’d have to get help, and she’d have to figure out a way to take him with her.

  First she had to get him to stay awake, though. She shook Bill’s shoulder. “Bill? Bill, we have to get you out of here,” she said urgently.

  He moaned again. “Can’t do it. It—hurts too much. Just let me sleep, okay?” And his head lolled sideways again. Nancy was sure he was in shock.

  “I can’t let you sleep. Can you tell me what hurts?”

  “My leg. I think it’s broken,” Bill mumbled.

  “Well, we can work around that. What about your arms? Can you move them?” She’d already seen him turn his head. If he could move his arms, too, she’d be reasonably sure his back wasn’t injured.

  “My arms are okay,” Bill said. “It’s just my leg. Why can’t you go for help and let me rest here?” He didn’t seem to notice that he was shivering.

  “Because,” Nancy said tightly, “you’re soaked to the bone, for one thing. You’ll keep warmer if you move—it may be a long time before we find someone to help. And because it might be a little hard for anyone to find you again in the dark.” And, she thought to herself, because I’m not going to give you any possible chance to get away again.

  “Look,” she went on, “try to sit up. I’ll pull your shoulders, and when I count to three, let’s go for it.”

  “You’re not strong enough,” Bill said in a feeble voice.

  “Oh, I think I can manage okay. Now. One—two—three!”

  On “three” she pulled with all her strength. Bill was about as helpful as a bag of sand, but somehow Nancy finally positioned him in a wavering sit. Then she looked around until she found a stick he might be able to use as a crutch.

  What a job, she thought. First I’m looking for sticks to hit him with, then to rescue him.

  “That dirty piece of wood? It’s all wet!” Bill whined when Nancy handed it to him.

  Nancy’s patience was starting to wear thin. “Look, just take the stick,” she urged. “You may have forgotten the reason you’re down here at all, but I haven’t. I don’t have to do this, you know. My perfectly good car’s back up there waiting for me, and anytime you decide you’d like to get back up the hill on your own and drive yourself to the hospital in your car, just let me know.”

  There was a pause. “All right, help me stand up,” Bill said at last.

  • • •

  Nancy pushed her sopping wet hair out of her eyes and sighed. It had taken her an hour to help Bill out of the gully, and they still had the field to cross. “Want to take a break?” she asked, turning to Bill.

  “Please,” he gasped. In the beam of the flashlight his face looked ashen, and his eyes were rolling back in his head. He was obviously in a lot of pain and exhausted as well. If she hadn’t suggested that they stop, Nancy suspected he might have fallen right where they were standing.

  “Better not sit down again,” she said in a kinder voice. “It might be too hard to get you back up. You can lean on my shoulder if that will help.”

  His hand on her shoulder was incredibly heavy. Nancy checked her watch. She’d give him five minutes, and then they’d struggle on. But when the five minutes were up, Nancy felt more tired than she had before they stopped.

  “Look how close we are to the expressway now,” she said encouragingly. “We’ll be there in no time.”

  “I—I really can’t go any farther,” Bill said. “I’m not kidding, Nancy. You’d better just get back to your car and leave me here. I’ll understand.”

  Nancy smiled wryly. “I think we’re stuck with each other for the moment, Bill. Let’s make the most of it.”

  “No. This is as far as I go.”

  “But we’re almost there! You can’t give up now,” Nancy pleaded.

  For answer Bill took his hand off her shoulder, spun around dizzily—and collapsed facedown on the ground. “No more nagging,” Nancy heard him mutter into the grass.

  Nancy forced herself to speak as cheerfully as possible. “Well, I’m sorry you feel that way,” she said. “I guess I’m just going to have to drag you across the field.” She waited for a
second to see if that would galvanize him back up again, but he didn’t move. “Okay. It’s your decision.” And she reached for his hands.

  “Ooof!” she said, only half kidding. “What have they been feeding you?”

  Bill didn’t even bother to answer.

  It was the longest walk Nancy had ever taken. Just trying to keep Bill’s head from dragging along in the grass was as hard as pulling him. Her purse and first-aid kit kept slipping off her shoulder. To make matters even worse, the sticky mud underfoot finally wrenched the heel off one of her pumps. And—just to cheer things up—it began to pour again, this time with thunder and lightning mixed in.

  Oh, my little heated car, Nancy thought longingly as she hobbled along. A warm bed and a dry bathrobe. Food—she hadn’t had a thing since lunch. Why did I ever think I wanted an interesting job?

  And she hadn’t seen a single car pass since they’d gotten out of the woods. Maybe—on top of the road’s being legally closed—there was a storm warning out. I can’t drive in this rain, Nancy realized. I’ll have to wait until it lets up.

  There they were at last at the dark, shining express ramp. At least it would be easier to drag Bill over asphalt than grass. There was his wrecked car being tirelessly washed by rain. “The police can send a tow truck for it,” she called down to him.

  Now they were leaving the ramp, and there—at last—was her car. “We made it!” she shouted at Bill. “We’re safe!”

  Somehow she managed to run the last few feet to the car. Bill didn’t seem heavy at all now. Nancy unlocked the car door and hoisted him into the passenger seat. Then she raced around to the other side and let herself in.

  “Now. Ignition. And lights. And heat,” she chattered, turning the heat on full blast. “And flashers. I’m sorry I don’t have anything hot to drink, but there’s plenty of water out there if you get thirsty.”

  “Why are you being so nice?” mumbled Bill, wincing as he shifted position in the seat.