The Runaway Bride
“You must have been in total shock,” George murmured sympathetically.
Midori nodded miserably. “I was. I thought about going to the police, but what could I tell them? I didn’t have proof of anything. I didn’t even know what Ken and Connor were up to. And I was so scared. I kept thinking, I couldn’t do anything to make those guys suspicious, or I might get . . . they might . . .”
She dabbed at her eyes. “That’s why I couldn’t bring myself to tell my family or to cancel the wedding. I was afraid Ken and Connor would get wise to me.”
“Did you think about just talking to Ken?” George asked.
“How could she?” Mad Dog cut in hotly. “I mean, how could she trust him? He betrayed her. For all she knew, something terrible would happen to her the second she said a word.”
Nancy cradled her teacup in her hands. “So you decided that you had to go through with the wedding?” she asked Midori.
“I didn’t see any way out,” Midori replied. “I got as far as getting into my kimono. But then it occurred to me to just run away. It seemed to be the perfect solution—the only solution.”
She glanced at Mad Dog and gave him a sad little smile. “I called Mad Dog. I knew he would help me. He came right away and whisked me back to his studio on his motorcycle.”
“Good thing the traffic cops weren’t out,” Mad Dog mumbled. “I must have been going twice the speed limit both ways.”
“You left the villa through the exit at the back of the property, right?” Nancy asked Midori. “We found a gold cord—your obi-jime—caught on the gate.”
“We?” Midori became alarmed. “Who’s ‘we’?”
“Don’t worry—it wasn’t Ken or Connor,” Nancy assured her. “You see, as soon as Mari figured out you were gone, she asked me to find you. She and George and I came across the obi-jime.”
“Oh.” Midori sounded relieved. “Anyway, I’ve been staying here since Saturday, and Mad Dog’s been taking care of me. That’s why he was so rough with you in the hallway, Nancy. He was afraid you were one of Ken and Connor’s spies.”
Mad Dog looked at Midori a little guiltily. “I didn’t tell you that your friends showed up here yesterday. I didn’t want to worry you.”
Nancy asked him straight out. “You didn’t deliver a batch of poisonous fugu to our ryokan room? Or push me into the bonfire at a Bon Matsuri festival?”
Mad Dog’s eyes widened. “Never.”
“Somebody did these things to you, Nancy?” Midori asked anxiously.
“Yes,” Nancy replied, and told her and Mad Dog about everything that had happened since Saturday.
When she got to the part about the stolen diary, Mad Dog held up a hand. “I’m guilty of that. Midori asked me to sneak into her house late Saturday night and get the thing.”
“I’d written some stuff about Ken and Connor in it,” Midori explained hastily. “I didn’t want them to get hold of it.”
“That explains why there were no signs of a break-in,” Nancy said, nodding. “You gave Mad Dog your key.” She paused, then added, “The guy who delivered the fugu and pushed me into the bonfire was Japanese and had a crew cut. Since Ken doesn’t have a crew cut, he and Connor must have somebody else working for them.”
Midori acted confused. “But why would they try to hurt you, Nancy?”
“They must not want me to find you,” Nancy said, her blue eyes flashing. “They probably think that your running away was connected to last Thursday night somehow. So either they’re looking for you themselves, or they’re hoping you’ll stay in hiding and keep your mouth shut.”
Midori shuddered. “I understand.”
“The key is that painting,” Nancy went on. “It must be a really valuable work, or Ken and Connor wouldn’t be making such a big deal out of it. Did you recognize it, Midori?”
“I saw only a small part of the right side,” Midori replied. “All I can tell you is that it was a medium-size oil, about two feet by three feet. It looked like an Impressionist or Postimpressionist landscape to me—lots of sky blue on top, bright colors on the bottom, fluttery brushstrokes. Oh, and I saw the end of a signature—the letter T in red.”
“That’s a start,” Nancy said. “Listen, Midori. You’d better stay here for a while. We don’t want Ken and Connor to find you. George and I will try to track down the painting.”
Mad Dog leaned forward and grinned at her. It was the first time Nancy had seen him happy. “Hey, that would be great,” he said gratefully. “I wasn’t sure how I was going to watch over Midori and find a way to nail those guys at the same time.”
Midori clasped Nancy’s hand. “You’re such a good friend, Nancy,” she murmured. “But I don’t want to put you in any more danger.”
“I can take care of myself,” Nancy told her. “But what should we do about Mari? Should I tell her where you are?”
Midori thought for a moment, then said, “Yes, and tell her that I’m okay. I don’t want her to worry about me.” She paused. “But tell her to keep the information to herself, and that she shouldn’t call me or come here, no matter what. I don’t want to involve her in any of this or risk having anyone follow her here.”
“So you don’t want us to explain to her about the painting, or about Ken and Connor?” Nancy said.
“That’s right,” Midori replied firmly. “The less she knows, the better.”
“In this situation, ignorance is definitely bliss,” George agreed.
• • •
“You’ve got a gleam in your eye, Nancy Drew,” Mick said. “What’s up? I know you didn’t ask me out to lunch just to hear me talk about the wonderful world of investment banking. You’ve got something on your mind, don’t you?”
Nancy and Mick were sitting at a corner table in a sushi restaurant. George had gone back to the ryokan to get in a quick jog. The morning’s storm had stopped, and through the open window Nancy could see a beautiful rainbow.
“You’re very clever, Mick Devlin,” Nancy replied, chuckling. “If you ever get sick of your job, you should consider a career in detective work. I’d be happy to give you a reference.”
A waiter appeared at their table just then. “Are you ready to order?” he asked them in Japanese.
Nancy scanned the menu quickly. “I’d like the lunch special with the tuna rolls,” she said.
“That sounds great,” Mick said. “I’d like the exact same thing.”
The waiter went away and came back immediately with two small salads.
Mick separated his wooden chopsticks and started in on his salad. “So tell me what’s going on,” he said between bites. “I love this ginger dressing.”
Nancy ate some of her salad. “Me, too.”
Mick’s green eyes sparkled. “That clinches it, Nancy. We like the same sushi, the same kind of dressing—” He raised his eyebrows playfully. “What do you say? Why don’t you come to your senses and be my girlfriend?”
Nancy reached across the table and put her hand on his arm. “That’s exactly what I had in mind,” she said very seriously.
Chapter
Eleven
MICK PUT HIS CHOPSTICKS DOWN and gaped at Nancy. “You want to be my girlfriend,” he said finally. Then he shook his head and gave her a radiant smile. “That’s the best news I’ve heard in a long time. I have to admit I’m a little surprised, though. You told me at Puppy Love Live that you and Ned were—”
“Yes, I know,” Nancy cut in quickly. She hesitated before going on. She knew her plan was dangerous, and Mick was looking at her so tenderly that she almost wished she could be his girlfriend.
Stick to business, Drew, she told herself sternly. “I still mean what I said,” she went on after a moment. “But there’s been a major break in the case, and I need a way to check out Nakamura Incorporated. I figure the best way to do that would be to pose as your girlfriend. I could meet you there for a date.”
Disappointment was reflected in Mick’s eyes, but only for a second. He leane
d forward and winked at her. “You picked the right chap for the job, Nancy. I’ll see to it that we make a very convincing couple.”
Nancy felt a blush creep over her cheeks. “Thanks, Mick.”
“So you want to snoop around Nakamura Incorporated, eh?” Mick said. “But why?”
“This is absolutely top secret—for your ears only, okay?” Nancy said in a low voice. Then she told him about finding Midori at Mad Dog’s studio and repeated everything Midori had told her about Ken and Connor.
When she had finished, Mick appeared even more astonished than before. “Ken Nakamura and Connor Drake are pulling off some scam involving a painting? That’s incredible.”
“Why incredible?” Nancy asked.
Mick shrugged. “Ken always struck me as such a straight arrow. He’s already loaded. Plus I had the impression that he and Connor didn’t get along too well.” He hesitated. “Actually, that’s not right. It’s Ken and his uncle who don’t seem to get along, and I just figured that Connor, being Mr. Nakamura’s assistant, wouldn’t be one of Ken’s favorite people, either.”
“Ken doesn’t get along with his uncle?” Nancy repeated, puzzled.
“At a couple of meetings they’ve had disagreements about deals,” Mick said. “They don’t seem to see eye to eye on things.”
The waiter came by with their sushi. It was arranged on boat-shaped bamboo platters and garnished with paper-thin lemon slices.
“So what do you think this painting business can be about?” Mick asked Nancy as they started in on the sushi.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Nancy said. “What are the usual art-related crimes? Smuggling, theft, forgery—”
“Maybe the painting is a fake,” Mick suggested. “That would explain why Connor freaked out when he saw Midori studying it. He might have figured an ex-art student would be able to tell an imitation from the real thing.”
“That’s a possibility,” Nancy said thoughtfully. “So you won’t mind helping me out, Mick? I know it’s kind of odd, having to pose as my boyfriend and all.”
Mick reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “Why would I mind? Posing as your boyfriend will be great.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed each finger lightly. “See? I’m having fun already,” he added, grinning mischievously.
Nancy reluctantly pulled her hand away and tried to ignore the racing of her heart. Was this crazy plan going to work? she wondered. How could she just pretend to be Mick’s girlfriend when a small part of her wanted it for real? And what about Ned, who was there for her back in the States?
“So, when can I come by your office?” Nancy asked, trying to keep her voice level. “The sooner, the better.”
“Tonight?” Mick said. “Why don’t you come around five, say, to meet me for dinner? A lot of the employees leave at four thirty, so things should be pretty quiet by then.”
“That sounds perfect,” Nancy replied.
Mick gave her a lazy smile. “It’s a date.”
• • •
The Nakamura Incorporated offices occupied several floors of a building in the posh neighborhood of Akasaka. The reception area on the sixth floor, where Mick had told Nancy to ask for him, was decorated in modern Japanese style, with teak walls, gray slate floors, and sleek black leather couches. There was a miniature goldfish pond in one corner, complete with a tiny waterfall.
It was exactly five o’clock. As Nancy waited for Mick, she listened to the soothing sound of the trickling water and felt her eyelids start to close. Her jet lag was catching up with her.
“Nancy!”
Her eyelids flew open. Mick was standing in front of her, his arms outstretched. “Oh, hi, Mick,” she murmured.
Mick lifted Nancy by the hands, and before she could stop him he was hugging her tightly. “You look beat, darling,” he said sympathetically. “Do you want to cancel our date?”
Nancy started to pull away from him, but then realized that the receptionist was watching them. Oh, boy, she thought, putting her arms around Mick’s neck and hugging him back. What am I getting myself into?
When they finally separated, Nancy smiled weakly at him. “Of course I don’t want to cancel our date, darling. I’ve been looking forward to it all day.”
“Great.” Mick took her hand and led her through a set of double doors. “I’ll give you the VIP tour first,” he said in a low voice. “The layout is pretty typical—a circular hallway, offices all around the perimeter of the circle, and two conference rooms inside the circle.”
He pointed out a long line of video monitors in the hallway. They were flashing codes and numbers. “Stock activity in all the major markets of the world,” he explained.
“There aren’t too many people here—just as you said,” Nancy noted as they walked.
“I think just about everybody’s gone except for the head honchos,” Mick replied. “Connor, Mr. Nakamura, and Ken are in the executive conference room with some clients.”
Nancy’s eyes lit up. This would be the perfect opportunity to search Ken and Connor’s offices.
Mick glanced around, made sure no one was nearby, then whispered, “So what have you and George been up to since I saw you at lunch?”
“We’ve been trying to track down a painting,” Nancy whispered back. “George and I went to the library and came up with a list of Impressionists and Postimpressionists whose last names end in the letter T.”
“And who did you come up with?” Mick prodded.
“Claude Monet, Georges Seurat, Edouard Manet, Mary Cassatt, Berthe Morisot—just to name a few,” Nancy replied. “George is over at Mad Dog’s right now. She’s running them by Midori, to see if any of them rings a bell.”
“Have you told Mari about her sister yet?” Mick asked.
Nancy nodded. “I talked to her this afternoon. She was really glad to hear that Midori’s okay, but she wasn’t happy about all the secrecy. I made her swear not to tell anybody anything, though, or to try to contact Midori.”
“So she doesn’t know about Ken and Connor?” Mick said.
“No,” Nancy said. “Midori wanted it that way. If you run into Mari, don’t say a word.”
“Understood.” Mick peered at his watch. “Listen, Nancy—can I leave you alone for about fifteen minutes? I promised one of our clients to give her a call.”
“No problem,” Nancy said. “You said Ken and Connor were in a meeting, right? Just show me their offices, and I’ll take it from there.”
Mick explained how to find them. “And mine is this one here,” he finished, pointing. “I’ll see you in a little while. Be careful, okay?”
“I’ll be fine,” Nancy reassured him.
Fortunately, there was no one around the two offices. Nancy decided to search Ken’s first. She noticed a framed photograph of Midori on his desk. It struck her as surprising that he’d kept it after what had happened.
Working efficiently, Nancy went through some papers and files. She then began going through his Rolodex, hoping to find the name of a gallery that might be linked to the painting. All the entries were in Japanese and were hard for Nancy to decipher.
Then she got a hunch and headed for Connor’s office.
Just as Nancy had guessed, Connor’s Rolodex was in English. “Bingo,” she said softly, and began flipping through the cards.
Halfway through the Rolodex, she found entries for two auction houses: Minamoto Auctions and Nobu Auctioneers Limited. Thinking they might handle art, she quickly jotted down their addresses and phone numbers and stuffed the piece of paper into her pocket.
She had returned to the Rolodex and started on the O entries when she was interrupted by a deep male voice.
“What are you doing in here?” he asked in Japanese.
Nancy’s hand froze on the Rolodex. She turned slowly. Ken was standing in the doorway.
Chapter
Twelve
NANCY GAVE KEN an apologetic smile. “Hi,” she said sweetly. “I know this looks o
dd. But this is the first opportunity I’ve had to go through Mick’s Rolodex without him hanging around.”
Ken stopped in his tracks. “Mick’s Rolodex!” he burst out. “That isn’t Mick’s Rolodex—it’s Connor’s!”
Nancy gasped. “You mean I’m not in Mick’s office? Oh, no, I feel so stupid. I guess the circular hallway got me all mixed up.”
“Mick’s in the interns’ office four doors down,” Ken said, then stared at her suspiciously. “Why would you want to go through his Rolodex?”
Nancy giggled nervously. “It’s kind of embarrassing, but—oh, well, I guess I can tell you. You see, Mick and I have been seeing each other for a while—long distance, of course. We met in Geneva, you know.”
“No, I didn’t know,” Ken replied coolly.
“But for a while now I’ve suspected that he had another girlfriend,” Nancy went on, adding a hurt edge to her voice. “I wanted to find out for sure. I thought that her name and phone number might be in his Rolodex.”
Ken was silent for a moment. “So this has nothing to do with your search for Midori?” he asked finally.
“Of course not!” Nancy protested. “Why would anyone here know anything about Midori’s disappearance?” She watched Ken’s reaction before going on. His expression never changed.
“By the way, what are you doing in Connor’s office?” Nancy asked casually, trying to shift the focus away from herself. “Are you looking for something, too?”
Ken blushed. “Of course not. He asked me to meet him here.” He peered at his watch. “My uncle must be keeping him for some reason.”
“Well, I’d better run,” Nancy said, heading for the door. “Mick will be wondering about me.” She paused at Ken’s side. “Listen, could we keep this little incident between us? I don’t want Mick to know what I’ve been up to.”
Not waiting for Ken’s reply, she breezed out the door—only to run smack into Connor.