Running Scared Read online

  Brenda held up her hands. “Funny, now that I think about it, I can’t say. The voice sounded whispery.”

  Stifling her disappointment, Nancy thanked Brenda and walked back to Annette, George, and Bess. They were still waiting on the sidewalk where the attacker had let go of Annette.

  “Where’s Kevin?” Annette was asking George. “I want to tell him what just happened and get it on tape fast, while it’s still fresh in my mind.”

  At the runner’s words Nancy stopped dead in her tracks. Annette didn’t seem at all shaken up anymore. She actually seemed excited.

  Thinking back, Nancy remembered the calm way Annette had handled just about all the threats and attacks. Suddenly things were starting to make sense.

  “Kevin can wait a minute,” Nancy told Annette. “Now, what was it you wanted to tell me?”

  Annette stared blankly at Nancy. “Tell you?”

  “That’s right,” Nancy said patiently. “You called me because you had something to tell me. Then you insisted we go out front where we wouldn’t be overheard. Remember?”

  “Oh, right—of course.” Annette seemed flustered. “I guess nearly getting snatched like that scrambled my brains a little. I’m not thinking straight.”

  “Take your time,” Nancy urged. “You said that you wanted to tell me something about what’s been happening to you for the last few days.”

  Annette’s eyes were on Nancy, but they weren’t focused. “Yes, I did. I think Renee and Irene are working together to force me out of the race.”

  This was nothing new—certainly nothing to drag Nancy outside for. “I see. Is there something that makes them the most likely candidates?”

  “Well, yes.” Annette swung around to include Bess and George in the conversation. “When those policemen were questioning us this morning, did you notice how Renee jumped up and said that she was going to enjoy beating me tomorrow?”

  “Yes, I heard her,” Nancy replied. “What about it?”

  “Don’t you see?” Annette fixed Nancy and her friends with an almost pleading look. “She has to be part of the conspiracy. She dropped that Goody Two-shoes front she likes to put on and let the real Renee show through.”

  “And that’s what you couldn’t say inside because someone might overhear it?” Nancy asked.

  “Yes,” Annette replied. She smiled triumphantly, as if she had just solved the whole case.

  Actually, Annette had provided Nancy with an important clue, but it had nothing to do with Renee Clark. “I’ll keep that in mind,” Nancy told the runner. “Let’s go back inside.”

  “What are you getting at?” George whispered to Nancy as they entered the hotel.

  “Not now,” Nancy whispered back. “You’ll find out in a minute.”

  When the girls were halfway across the lobby, Derek Townsend emerged from the elevator. He hurried over to Annette, his face gray with tension. “Annette,” he said, grasping both her hands. “That reporter, Brenda something, just told me what happened. This is terrible!”

  “I’m fine, Derek, really I am.” Annette disengaged her hands from his and smiled at him.

  “Maybe you should withdraw from this race,” the trainer said. “It’s not worth your life to compete, is it?”

  “That’s out of the question, Derek,” Annette insisted, her eyes flashing. “No conspiracy is going to force me out, and that’s final. Now I’m going up to change, and then we’ll go to the gym for a light workout.”

  Derek Townsend opened his mouth to object, but Annette had already walked away and was stepping into an open elevator.

  “I don’t know what to do anymore,” he said, turning to Nancy, Bess, and George.

  His haggard expression made Nancy realize the toll these last few days had taken on him. She felt sorry for him. She had a feeling the questions she needed to ask weren’t going to help his mood any, either.

  “Let’s sit down and talk for a minute,” Nancy suggested. She led Annette’s trainer to a nook with two couches facing each other. Nancy sat next to him on one, while George and Bess settled in opposite.

  “Mr. Townsend,” Nancy began, “give me your honest assessment of Annette’s condition. How does she stand up against the best of her rivals? This is just between us, you understand.”

  The trainer seemed puzzled and hesitated slightly before answering. “I would say she is certainly still among the best there is, but a number of excellent runners have come up lately. As a result, Annette is no longer in a class by herself, which she was until recently. Renee Clark and a few others are on a par with her.”

  “So there’s no certainty that Annette would win tomorrow, even without these distractions?” George spoke up.

  Mr. Townsend shook his head. “No, not at all. It might end up being simply a question of who wants it the most.”

  Nancy drummed her fingers against the couch arm. “Annette must be thinking about what’s next—after she stops running, I mean,” she said, “we’ve heard she’d like to get into sports broadcasting.”

  Derek chuckled and shook his head. “She did want to, but I’m afraid a fiasco with ‘SportsTalk’ ruined her chances there.”

  Obviously, Annette’s trainer wasn’t aware that the runner might have a second chance at sportscasting.

  “I suppose Annette would do about anything for a job like Kevin Davis’s,” Nancy went on.

  “I’ll say. Why—” He broke off and gave Nancy a bewildered look. “What’s the point of all this?”

  Leaning forward, Nancy said, “Mr. Townsend, I’m going to put your mind at ease about the danger to Annette. But I must insist that you keep what I tell you completely to yourself for now.”

  “Very well,” he agreed.

  “I’m almost certain that Annette can run tomorrow without fear of being attacked.”

  “Why?” he demanded. Bess and George were equally mystified.

  “Because the conspiracy against Annette was organized by Annette herself!”

  Chapter

  Sixteen

  THE TRAINER gaped at Nancy. “No!” he exclaimed. “It’s simply not possible.”

  “That’s totally bizarre,” Bess whispered.

  “But it is possible,” Nancy insisted. “In fact, it should have been clear to me all along. No one has a stronger motive for harassing Annette Lang than Annette herself.

  “Mr. Townsend, Annette is already finding it crowded at the top. These so-called attacks have been getting her a big dose of media exposure. Kevin says that she pressed him to put in a good word for her with the ICT execs. This is just the break she needs, only she maneuvered it herself.”

  The man frowned but said nothing.

  “I had suspected Kevin Davis of using Annette for career advancement, but it’s actually the other way around.” Nancy caught George’s triumphant look and smiled back.

  “Annette could have prepared the anonymous notes, ripped up her own gear, even attacked me in the changing booth,” Nancy went on. “I thought it was odd when she asked me to join her on her trip to the store, since she’d been resisting my attempts to protect her. Now I know why she wanted me along.”

  “But what about Gina Giraldi?” Derek protested. “Surely Annette wouldn’t let someone be seriously hurt, or even killed, for the sake of a career. She’s not as cold-blooded as that!”

  Nancy had been wondering about that herself. “Well, we know she’s not doing all this by herself,” she said, thinking out loud. “The note on the message board means she’s got an accomplice. I guess it’s possible that that person has gotten out of control.”

  “That’s right,” Bess put in. “Annette really did seem upset after finding out about Gina. That was about the only time she ever lost her cool.”

  Nancy nodded. ‘Except for when I went after that sniper,” she remembered. “I thought she was worried about me, but what she was really worried about was that I might catch her accomplice.”

  “Gee,” George said, shaking her head. “Who do
you think the accomplice is?”

  “I wish I knew, because whoever it is is a very dangerous person,” Nancy replied. “I don’t think it’s Renee or Irene anymore. One, Annette is trying too hard to implicate them. Two, the person who ‘attacked’ Annette today was definitely a man.”

  Turning to Mr. Townsend, Nancy asked, “By the way, do you have a sample of Annette’s handwriting?”

  “I have a note here, actually,” he replied, pulling a piece of paper from his pocket and passing it to Nancy. It was a note setting the time of that afternoon’s gym workout.

  Nancy looked at it and frowned. The script didn’t resemble the backhanded writing of the note she had seen on the message board.

  “Hey, Nan,” Bess spoke up. “How did you figure out about Annette?”

  “She didn’t set up this so-called abduction attempt very well. She drags us outside as witnesses and calls Brenda’s room to ensure press coverage. But when I ask her what she wants to tell me, she has nothing new to say.”

  “Astonishing,” the trainer said quietly. “I’d never have thought it, but listening to you, it all fits.”

  “Now what?” Bess wanted to know. “Do we go to Annette and make her say who she’s working with?”

  “I don’t think so,” Nancy said. “The accomplice is already dangerous. Knowing we’re on the trail might make things even more dangerous. I’d like to check a few more things first, before confronting Annette.”

  “Such as?” George asked.

  “Let’s call the hospital and check on Gina again,” Nancy answered. “If she can talk, she might identify her attacker. Mr. Townsend, I know this is hard for you since you’re Annette’s trainer. But can you behave toward Annette as if you don’t know anything of what we’ve been talking about?”

  The man nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

  Leaving the trainer, Nancy, George, and Bess headed across the lobby toward the phones near the elevators.

  “Ms. Drew?” A clerk at the desk motioned to Nancy as the girls passed by. “A call came in for you a few minutes ago. Here’s the message.”

  He handed her a slip of paper that said, “Call Sergeant Stokes,” A number was listed beneath.

  Nancy hurried over to the bank of phones, and her friends followed. She dialed the number but was told that Stokes was out. She then called the hospital. A nurse informed her that Gina was drifting in and out of consciousness and had said a few words.

  Nancy relayed the news to Bess and George. “I think it’s worth a shot at trying to talk to Gina.”

  “I’m willing,” said Bess. “Let’s go.”

  George held back. “Would you guys mind if I don’t go?” she asked. “There’s that early carbo-loading dinner in the restaurant tonight, and then Kevin said he has something special to give me,” George’s voice lowered as she said the last part, and she gave Nancy and Bess an embarrassed smile.

  “No problem,” Nancy told George. “Have fun!”

  George offered to let them use her car, which was parked in the hotel garage, but Nancy and Bess decided to take a cab to the hospital. They got Gina’s room number from the reception desk. On the third floor a nurse directed them to Gina’s room.

  “She might not make much sense,” the nurse warned them. “It’s mostly just babble.”

  The two girls paused just inside the door of the room. Gina’s head was wrapped in bandages, and underneath her eyes were huge, ugly bruises.

  Bess shook her head angrily. “Whoever did this deserves to—” She broke off as the runner’s eyes fluttered open and her lips moved.

  Nancy and Bess hurried over to Gina’s bedside and bent over to listen.

  “Monk . . . . ” came a faint whisper. “I know him. . . . It was monk . . . ” Then she closed her eyes.

  “Monk?” repeated Bess, looking at Nancy. “That nurse was right—she is just babbling.”

  “Maybe,” Nancy admitted. “Anyway, it looks as if Gina is out again for now. We might as well go back to the hotel. I’ll try Sergeant Stokes again. Maybe ‘monk’ will mean something to him.”

  • • •

  “Not there?” Bess guessed an hour and a half later, when Nancy hung up the phone in their room.

  Nancy nodded. It was the third time since returning from the hospital that she had tried to contact Sergeant Stokes. Each time she had been told he was out and couldn’t be reached. “My stomach’s growling,” she said. “Let’s go eat dinner.”

  Just then the door opened, and George walked in. “Look at this!” she exclaimed, holding up the silver running shoe charm Kevin had shown Nancy the day before.

  “How cute!” Bess exclaimed, examining it.

  “Kevin gave it to me as a good-luck charm for the race tomorrow. That’s why he didn’t want to say where he was yesterday. He wanted to surprise me. Isn’t he wonderful?”

  Nancy smiled at George. “He really is,” she agreed. “Hey, it’s only seven-thirty. How come you’re not still out with Mr. Wonderful?”

  “I have to be up by six-thirty tomorrow morning,” George told her. “The race starts at nine, and I should be there by seven-thirty or eight. So tonight I’m not doing anything but sleeping.”

  After saying good night to George, Nancy and Bess left the room and went to the Great Fire for dinner.

  “I never thought I’d feel sorry for Gina,” Bess said, taking a bite of her chicken crepes, “but now I do. What a terrible thing to happen.”

  Nancy frowned and speared a lettuce leaf with her fork. “I just hope we can make sure the same thing doesn’t happen to anybody else,” she said. Looking up, she noticed a familiar, curly blond head a few tables away.

  “Oh, there’s Jake,” she said. “He doesn’t seem too happy.” The runner’s association official was staring down at his dessert and coffee without touching them.

  “Poor Jake. He’s probably upset about Gina,” Bess said sympathetically. “I’m going to ask him to join us.”

  She got up and went over to his table. A moment later Bess returned with Jake, who was carrying his cup of espresso and his dessert plate.

  “I am happy for company,” he told them. “It saves me from thinking about Gina’s terrible ordeal.”

  Nancy and Bess told him about their visit, trying to make Gina’s condition sound as hopeful as possible. They didn’t say anything about her mention of “monk.”

  Jake seemed grateful when Bess launched into a humorous story about George’s many failed attempts to get her to take up running. By the end of the meal he was even laughing. When they left the restaurant and said good night, Nancy felt good about the friendship that had begun between them.

  She and Bess were headed for the phones to call Sergeant Stokes again when Nancy heard Renee Clark calling her name.

  “Nancy! Over here!” Renee was standing by the message board.

  Nancy raised her eyebrows at Bess, and the two girls crossed the lobby to the runner.

  “All set for tomorrow?” Nancy asked Renee.

  “More or less,” Renee said distractedly. Nancy noticed that her usual cheery attitude was gone. Actually, Renee appeared very worried.

  “Have you seen Charles around anywhere? My trainer?” the runner asked.

  Nancy shook her head. “Not since this morning,” she answered.

  Renee frowned. “We were supposed to have dinner together tonight and go over my strategy for tomorrow. But he’s not anywhere around. I called his room several times, but there’s no answer, and nobody has seen him since early in the day.”

  “Maybe he was delayed somewhere,” Bess suggested.

  “Well, there was a note from him on the board,” Renee went on, “and in it he said he might be late. But it’s so strange that he wouldn’t have dinner with me tonight, when I have such an important race tomorrow.” She pulled a folded piece of paper from her pocket.

  Nancy stared at the note, stunned. It was the red-marbled notepaper!

  “Can I see that for a second?” she ask
ed.

  “Sure,” said Renee, handing it over.

  Her pulse racing, Nancy read the brief message: “I may be a little late tonight. If I am, don’t wait for me. C.”

  There was no mistaking that distinctive back-slanted scrawl. It was definitely the same as the handwriting in the note giving the details of the sniper shooting . . .

  And that meant that Charles Mellor was Annette’s accomplice—and that he had staged where the shooting should take place!

  Chapter

  Seventeen

  RENEE, is this Mellor’s regular notepaper?” Nancy asked.

  Renee nodded. “It’s from somewhere in Europe. Charles lived there for years, and he still has this stuff imported.”

  “And this is his handwriting?” Nancy pressed.

  “Definitely,” Renee replied without hesitation. “It’s pretty distinctive, isn’t it, that backward tilt? He writes left-handed, so—”

  “Excuse me,” Nancy said, cutting off Renee. “Bess and I have an important phone call to make.”

  As soon as they left Renee, Nancy told Bess what she had just discovered. “You’re sure it’s him?” Bess asked, her eyes wide.

  Nancy nodded firmly. She reached for the nearest receiver when they got to the bank of telephones in the lobby. This time she got through to Sergeant Stokes.

  “I have important news,” said the sergeant.

  “I do, too, and I suspect it fits in with yours,” Nancy said over the line. “Let’s hear yours first.”

  “Okay. The only one on your list of suspects who didn’t check out squeaky clean was Charles Mellor. His fingerprints rang bells in our computers. According to Interpol, he has a criminal record under another name, Calvin Munk—M-u-n-k.”

  “ ‘Monk!’ Of course!” Nancy exclaimed. “Let me guess,” she went on excitedly. “I’ll bet Calvin Munk’s criminal record has to do with professional track or distance running in Europe.”

  “Right you are,” Stokes answered, sounding surprised. “He was banned from racing in Europe for doctoring some runner’s food before a race. He knew his chemistry—he added some poisonous mushrooms to the chicken in wine sauce the guy had ordered. Made the guy sick as a dog. It was supposed to look like food poisoning.”