Kiss and Tell

  “Hello, this is Helen Klein. Who’s this?” When Nancy identified herself, Helen asked to speak with Esme. Nancy told her the woman was asleep.

  “I see,” Helen said, pausing. “When she wakes up, could you have her call me? It’s rather urgent.”

  “Is there a message I can pass along?” Nancy asked politely.

  “No—that is—well, yes. Tell her I have some bad news,” Helen said finally. “I hate to do this to her, but Bob has decided she’s too controversial right now.”

  “I’m sorry?” Nancy asked. “Maybe you’d better explain.”

  “After everything that’s happened, and now the poisoning . . .” Helen broke off, but finally blurted out, “Just tell her we can’t go through with the movie project. The deal’s off.”

  Chapter

  Eleven

  NANCY,” ESME MURMURED, OPENING her eyes. “What is it? I thought I heard the phone ring.”

  Helen Klein was in the midst of saying goodbye to Nancy, but the line went dead before Nancy could put Esme on the phone.

  “That was Helen,” Nancy said.

  “Was she calling to find out how I am?” Esme asked weakly. The writer tried to sit up, but Nancy could tell from her pale face that even the slightest movement was an effort.

  “Take it easy,” Nancy said. “Let me help.”

  Nancy had just propped Esme up when Bess came into the room, her arms full of magazines and newspapers. “Hi, Nan!” she said brightly. “Where were you all this time?”

  “I’ll tell you about it later,” said Nancy. “Right now, I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

  “What else could go wrong today?” asked Esme.

  As gently as she could, Nancy broke the news to Esme from Helen. It took a moment for Esme to understand what Nancy was telling her, but as soon as the news sunk in, tears came to her eyes and she pounded the mattress with her fist.

  “My entire career is in the process of being ruined!” she exclaimed. “Everything I have worked to achieve during the past ten years is slowly being eaten away by this person. What on earth did I do to deserve this? When will it end?”

  Esme’s tears began to flow and her body was racked with sobs. Nancy wondered how Bess would handle having her idol break down in front of her. At first, when Esme started crying, Bess was distraught, but a moment later she was sitting by her on the bed, handing her a box of tissues and trying to offer what little reassurance she could.

  “I’m sure you’ll get another movie deal,” Bess said.

  “Am I interrupting?” a voice asked. Todd Gilbert stood in the doorway with a huge, blooming poinsettia plant in his arms.

  “I know how much you like them,” he told Esme, entering the room. “Do you realize how hard a poinsettia is to find after Christmas?”

  Esme took the plant from him and put it on the nightstand beside her bed. “Thank you,” she said, drying her tears. “It’s beautiful.”

  “I was so worried about you,” Todd said. “When Janine told me—”

  “I would have thought you’d be happy,” said Esme. “If I were dead, I wouldn’t be able to reveal your secrets, would I?”

  By now Bess had gotten up from her perch on Esme’s bed. “We’ll leave you two alone,” Bess said. With that, Nancy and Bess left the room, quietly closing the door behind them.

  “Those two never stop, do they?” Nancy asked, shaking her head.

  “It’s a sure sign that they still really care about each other,” said Bess. “I almost believe Todd when he says he was worried. Esme could have died.”

  Nancy remembered what Helen Klein had said about Esme being poisoned, and she asked Bess what she knew about it.

  “They pumped Esme’s stomach as soon as she got here,” said Bess. “I guess they did a preliminary test and found out it definitely was poison. Tomorrow morning we’re supposed to know exactly what kind of poison it was. They think it was some kind of plant.”

  “Esme’s tea!” Nancy announced. “That’s got to be how it happened.”

  Bess stifled a yawn. “I’m sure you’re right, Nancy, but truthfully, I’m so tired right now I can’t even think about it. What a day!”

  “You’re not kidding,” Nancy agreed. She knew there wasn’t much they could do until the next day, when the toxicology report came in. “Let’s say goodbye to Esme and head for home.”

  Nancy poked her head into Esme’s room, only to see Todd perched on the side of the writer’s bed, her hands clasped in his and a searching look on his face, while Esme kept her eyes, teary now, downcast. Luckily, neither Todd nor Esme saw Nancy, who immediately drew back and whispered to Bess, “I don’t get it. I thought Esme couldn’t stand the sight of Todd, but she’s letting him hold her hand.”

  “You’re kidding!” Bess said, her blue eyes wide with wonder. “What’s that all about?”

  Nancy shook her head. “I don’t know, but I have a feeling there’s a lot Esme’s not telling about Todd. She never really wanted to go into the details of the restraining order she placed against him, for example.”

  “What if Todd’s behind the harassment and Esme’s unwilling to let herself see the truth?” Bess said, biting on her lip.

  “That just might make sense,” Nancy agreed. “Let’s hope that whoever turns out to be the harasser, Esme’s prepared to accept the truth.”

  • • •

  The next day Bess had promised to help her parents with chores and errands, so Nancy was on her own until the Valentine’s Day Ball that evening. After breakfast Nancy checked in at the hospital and learned that the romance writer had left for the Barrington that morning. Unfortunately, Nancy couldn’t get any details out of the hospital lab about Esme’s poisoning. Remembering that Sam was planning to be in the office that day, Nancy called him at work.

  “Just the woman I want to see!” Sam announced when he got on the line. “Come on over, I’ve got some news.”

  “Did your software program come through finally?” Nancy asked with a laugh.

  “Nah,” said Sam. “I’m sending that thing back to the manufacturer. It’s a dud! Something much more interesting, but you’ll have to come down if you want to know.”

  “I’m on my way!” said Nancy. She changed into a denim shirt to go with her jeans, and ran a brush through her hair. At the last minute, Nancy applied a coat of Fabulous Grape lip gloss that Bess had given her. Taking a final look before heading downstairs, Nancy saw she looked pretty good.

  For a teenager, she thought. And Sam’s not interested in any teenagers!

  As she was putting on her jacket, the doorbell rang. A delivery person was standing on the porch with a huge bouquet of flowers.

  “Nancy Drew?” the man asked.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Sign here.”

  Nancy signed the delivery form and took the flowers. As soon as she went back inside, Nancy felt a wave of guilt pass over her.

  The flowers were from Ned. A card attached to them read, “I hate to argue. You know how much I love you, and I’d never do anything to blow it between us. Call me. Love, Ned.”

  “Oh, Ned,” Nancy said out loud. “I wish all it took were a few flowers!”

  Immediately, she felt lousy about her reaction. But the truth was, even though she did miss Ned, and even though she did feel like calling him, she was also looking forward to seeing Sam. Hadn’t Bess said that it was okay to be confused? Well then, she was confused, and the flowers from Ned hadn’t helped matters at all. Nancy tried calling Ned at his fraternity house, but he was in the library working on his paper. She left a message and headed out the door.

  At the River Heights Police Department, Sam was sitting behind his desk when Nancy entered the small, cramped room that was his office.

  “It used to be a closet,” Sam confirmed, his eyes lighting up at the sight of Nancy. He gestured to the folding chair beside the desk. “Have a seat,” he said. “I can’t wait to tell you what I found out.”

  “Esme was
poisoned,” Nancy said, jumping the gun.

  Sam’s chocolate brown eyes rested on Nancy’s face. “How’d you know?”

  “I stopped by the hospital,” Nancy said. “Bess told me.”

  “The hospital lab called me this morning,” Sam confirmed. “Poinsettia leaves, with spearmint to mask the flavor.”

  “Poinsettia,” Nancy said, softly repeating the word. “Todd Gilbert visited Esme last night. He brought her a poinsettia plant. You don’t think he’d be stupid enough—”

  “To poison her with a plant and then bring her the same plant as a get-well gift?” Sam finished for her. He shook his head. “I doubt it. Probably just a coincidence.”

  “Todd said something about poinsettias being Esme’s favorite plant,” Nancy remembered. “Other people must know that, too. Could someone have poisoned Esme with the plant as some kind of weird joke?”

  Sam leaned back in his chair and studied Nancy, who found herself blushing at the attention. “It’s just an idea,” said Nancy.

  “It’s a good one,” said Sam. “I still maintain that Esme’s harasser is someone who knows her well and harbors a grudge against her.”

  “So far, we know that could include Kim, or maybe even Todd, if he’s worried about her revealing his secret.” Nancy paused. “You know, there’s someone we haven’t even considered.”

  “Giancarlo,” Sam said matter of factly.

  “Yes,” said Nancy. “He knows about Esme’s nickname.” Nancy remembered Giancarlo’s excuse to her about the love note he gave her. “He could be angry at Esme for not caring enough about him. I’ve seen them fight, and it’s not a pretty sight. Kim once said that Esme didn’t love either Todd or Giancarlo. Perhaps Giancarlo is harassing Esme because he suspects she doesn’t love him.”

  “Weird,” Sam said with a shrug. “Why not just leave?” He turned to his computer. “I’ll run a check on his social security file,” he said. “Maybe something will turn up.”

  While the computer began its search, the screen went blank. Since there wasn’t anything to watch, Nancy found her eyes being drawn to Sam, who, much to her embarrassment, was also looking at her.

  “Listen,” he began. “When this case ends—”

  “Which we can only hope will be soon,” Nancy said, casting her eyes down at Sam’s desk. “I’m not sure how long Esme can hold out.”

  “I’m not worried about Esme,” said Sam. “What I wanted to know was—”

  A beep from the computer and a flash of white onto the screen told them that the information they’d requested on Giancarlo had come through. “Thanks,” said Sam, turning in his seat to see Giancarlo’s record on the screen. “Perfect timing!”

  Nancy stared past Sam to the computer screen. Sam quickly skimmed the record and shook his head.

  “Sorry, there’s nothing here,” he said. “The guy is in the country legally and doesn’t have any kind of record—either here or in Italy. He’s clean.”

  Nancy stepped behind Sam’s desk to look at the file more carefully. As she leaned in, her elbow accidentally brushed against Sam’s cheek. “It is cramped in here, isn’t it?” she asked, laughing nervously.

  “You socked me!” Sam said, holding his cheek in mock pain. “I’ll make you pay for that, Drew!”

  “I’m sure you will,” Nancy said, countering his banter. Then she skimmed the computer screen. Something in Giancarlo’s vital statistics surprised her. “It says here Giancarlo is single. How old are these files?”

  “They’re supposed to be up to date,” he said. “Why?”

  “Esme and Giancarlo have been married for four years. Don’t you think his social security file would reflect that?” Nancy asked.

  “It should,” said Sam, squinting in confusion. “Let’s check something.” Sam typed in Esme’s name; a minute or two later, the romance writer’s information came on the screen.

  “According to her record,” said Nancy, “Esme’s single, too.”

  “I’ll check the IRS records,” said Sam. “I just happen to have a crucial password that will let me into their files—so long as I use it for research, and not illegal gain.”

  Sam hacked away at the computer. A few moments later Nancy and Sam were staring at both Giancarlo and Esme’s IRS records. As far as Nancy could tell, the evidence was irrefutable.

  “Both Giancarlo and Esme have filed single returns for the past three years,” Nancy said, stunned at the information. “But that means . . .”

  Sam finished for her. “The romantic fairy-tale couple who’ve charmed the world from River Heights to Rome, Italy, aren’t married at all.”

  Chapter

  Twelve

  FOR SOME REASON, THEN, Giancarlo and Esme have been lying about being married. Why?”

  A thought occurred to Nancy, one she hesitated to suggest because it made Esme seem terribly cold and calculating. “Maybe the whole relationship is a publicity stunt,” she said, thinking out loud as she went. “I remember Esme threatening Giancarlo with the words, ‘I should just drop you right now.’ Not, ‘I should break up with you,’ but ‘I should drop you.’ It didn’t occur to me until just now, but doesn’t that sound like someone breaking a contract?”

  Sam nodded slowly. Then he grabbed his leather jacket from off a hook on the back of his door. “That’s exactly what we’re going to find out,” he said. “Come on.”

  “Where are we going?” Nancy asked.

  “To question Ms. Esme Moore herself,” Sam replied, reaching across his desk to pull Nancy out from behind it. “And if this kid from Little Italy has his way, we’re going to get some answers.”

  • • •

  At the Barrington, Esme herself answered the door to her suite. Pale and wearing glasses, the romance writer looked a lot less glamorous and a lot more down to earth. Nancy thought that Bess might be disappointed to see her idol looking so plain without her glowing makeup and fabulous clothes and jewelry, but for Nancy, Esme’s casual attire made it easier to ask the questions she wanted answered.

  “Are we interrupting?” Nancy asked politely.

  “Not at all,” said Esme. “I was working, but it’s nothing I can’t put down. Come on in. What can I do for you?”

  Nancy introduced Sam. “He’s been handling the police side of our investigation,” she explained.

  “Pleased to meet you,” said Esme, shaking Sam’s hand.

  “Esme, Sam and I have some questions to ask you,” Nancy said. She sat down on the sofa while Esme took a seat in an armchair across from her.

  Sam joined Nancy on the couch. “This may not be pleasant,” Sam warned. “Occasionally the truth isn’t.”

  Esme swallowed visibly.

  Nancy leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees. Looking up at Esme, she plunged in. “Sam and I have reason to suspect that you and Giancarlo aren’t married. Is that true?”

  Esme sat back in her chair, shock expressed on her face. For a moment her glance darted back and forth between Nancy and Sam. She tried to speak several times, but simply ended up taking a succession of deep breaths. Finally she said, “It’s true. I won’t deny it. My agent and my publisher and I—I accept responsibility—all thought the pretend marriage would be an excellent publicity move.” Esme smiled softly. “We’ve done nothing illegal, and there’s never been any danger of our falling in love. And being ‘married’ to Giancarlo has helped my sales. However, you must know what a scandal you’ll cause if this information gets past this room.”

  Nancy assured Esme that she wouldn’t tell. “We’re not interested in harming your career,” she said. “We simply need to know who has solid motives for harassing you.”

  “Not Giancarlo!” Esme protested. “Of course, he has a contract with me, and I pay him dearly to be my traveling companion. But he and I both know that he can cancel at any time. He’d never use threats and tactics to break off the arrangement.”

  “What about Kim?” asked Sam. “She seems to have a big-time grudge against
you.”

  Esme shook her head and stared at the floor. “I don’t think so. Kim may seem tough and cool on the surface, but she’d never sink this low. And I do think she’ll make it someday as a writer. She simply needs to be patient.”

  “Todd?” Nancy put in.

  “I don’t seem to be surrounded by the most trustworthy people,” Esme said on a sigh. “Is that what you’re telling me? Next, you’ll be suggesting Janine.”

  Nancy held back from confirming Esme’s suspicions. “Let’s get back to Todd,” she insisted gently. “Would he have reason to threaten you?”

  “You were right,” said Esme, wiping a tear from her eye. “This isn’t very pleasant.” The romance writer got up, crossed the room to the desk, and returned with a tissue to dab at her eyes. After blowing her nose, Esme went on. “Todd and I had an extremely volatile relationship. We loved each other madly, and sometimes that meant we also fought terribly. He’s worried I’ll write about all that. In fact, I did get a restraining order against him, but it’s not what you think. He once threatened to kidnap a beloved cat I owned. I wanted to do everything I could to keep him away from poor Sophie.”

  Nancy exchanged a look with Sam. “That’s the secret Todd is afraid you’ll reveal?”

  Esme smiled softly. “I know it doesn’t seem like much, but imagine the press. ‘Todd Gilbert threatened to kidnap prized cat.’ It wouldn’t look very good, would it?”

  “Would Todd try to hurt you now?” Sam asked.

  “I honestly don’t think so,” said Esme sadly. “I’ve assured him I will never write about his threats, or the danger I felt I was in when we were together. The truth is, he never did harm me—or Sophie—and I do believe now that he has learned to control his anger. It’s unfortunate, since the Todd I see now is someone I truly could love, if only there weren’t such a past between us and the present weren’t so complicated.”

  The room was silent. Nancy believed Esme, and thought how sad it was that someone who had devoted her life to romance and passion had seemed to miss out on the great love of her life.