010 Buried Secrets

  The secretary peered over her glasses. “About what, dear?”

  “About John Harrington’s death,” Nancy told her. “I’m investigating what happened that night, and I need to speak to everyone who was involved.”

  “Oh, dear, I don’t know. Oh, well, the mayor will see anyone who asks. So I suppose I have to give you an appointment.” The secretary sighed and flipped through her appointment book. The mayor had fifteen minutes of free time at the very end of the next day, and even though she still didn’t look happy about it, the secretary made the appointment for Nancy.

  Nancy thanked her and headed for the police station. Since she’d worked with a lot of the officers, she didn’t have any trouble getting permission to look at their computerized files. But the files left her with more questions than answers.

  Charles Ogden, the Harringtons’ chauffeur, had left River Heights shortly after John Harrington’s death, and there was no record of where he had gone. And even though Neil Gray had been a strong suspect, the police hadn’t been able to pin anything on him. There was no address listed for him, either.

  Nancy was disappointed—he had been her prime suspect. Then, just as she was about to shut off the computer, she noticed something. Two of Gray’s campaign workers had been Gerald and Joyce Nickerson—Ned’s parents.

  Good, Nancy thought. I’ll talk to Ned’s parents, and I’ll make sure to do it while Ned’s home—at least we’ll be together. She shut off the computer, and went to a pay phone in the hall. No one was home at the Nickersons’.

  What now? So far, she had hundreds of questions and no answers. Then Nancy remembered Harrington House. Of course, she thought. The best place to start an investigation was at the scene of the crime.

  • • •

  A few minutes later Nancy’s Mustang was smoothly climbing up the narrow winding road to the Harrington mansion. As Nancy drove, she kept catching glimpses of the massive house. Built of stone, it was three stories high and looked as long as a city block. At one end was a tower. Nancy knew it overlooked the cliffs leading down to the river. The circular tower room had two small windows facing the river; one of them was the window from which John Harrington had to have jumped or fallen. Catching another glimpse of the tower and one window, Nancy shook her head. It just wasn’t possible to fall out of a window like that.

  The road curved again, and the house was blocked from view by the many trees on the vast estate. Finally Nancy pulled up at the massive iron gates and got out.

  The gates were locked, and the gatehouse beyond looked deserted. “Hello!” Nancy shouted. “Anybody in there?”

  No answer. Nancy walked a little way back down the road, hoping to find an easier way to get onto the grounds than by climbing that enormous iron gate. But she couldn’t see anything because a high masonry wall ran around three sides of the estate and blocked everything but the highest treetops.

  Nancy moved off the road and into the woods, skirting the wall, until she saw the red-tiled roof of the tower, which loomed high above her. Nancy continued to move straight ahead a few more feet until she could hear the river far below. Cautiously walking to the edge of the cliffs, she stared down at the ragged ledge and sharp rocks where Harrington’s body had been found.

  Was it suicide? she wondered with a shudder. Or was it murder?

  Before she’d finished the thought, Nancy felt a hand close tightly on her shoulder.

  Chapter

  Four

  NANCY’S REFLEXES TOOK over. Grabbing the hand, she crouched slightly, then straightened, pulling whoever was behind her over her shoulder and flat onto the ground—only a few yards from the cliff edge. Gasping, she looked down and saw the dark brown eyes of Todd Harrington staring up at her.

  “Mr. Harrington!” she cried. “I’m sorry, I—are you all right?”

  Todd Harrington sat up slowly and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m still in one piece,” he said. “I think.” Then he smiled. “This is the second time you’ve knocked me down! You’re not only a detective, you’re a judo expert.”

  “Not really an expert,” Nancy said, holding out her hand to help him up. “I have a friend who is, though, and she taught me that move.”

  “Well, it’s a good thing your friend wasn’t here,” Todd remarked. “I might not have survived her.”

  “I’m really sorry,” Nancy said again. “I was just thinking so hard that I didn’t hear you come up behind me.”

  “Next time I’ll shout a warning,” he said, and they both laughed. “Well,” he went on, “I hope you don’t mind if I ask what you’re doing here. It’s okay, of course, but I’m just curious.”

  “Did you see the paper this morning?” Nancy asked.

  “Oh, no.” Todd shook his head in disappointment. “Don’t tell me you let that nosy reporter get to you.”

  “I’m afraid I did,” Nancy admitted. “Besides, I think Brenda Carlton may actually be on to something. Lots of things about your father’s death make me very curious.”

  “Such as?”

  “Such as that window.” Nancy pointed to it. “It’s not a window you accidentally fall out of.”

  “What are you suggesting?” Todd asked with a frown. “Murder?”

  “I’m not suggesting anything yet. I’d just like to find out everything I can. That’s why I came here today,” Nancy explained. “I wanted to have a look around, but I couldn’t get in.”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t just climb over the gate.”

  “That was my next move,” Nancy said with a grin.

  “Well, I’d invite you in, but we’re really up to our ears in work right now. I was just taking a breather when I saw you.”

  “We?” Nancy asked.

  “My campaign staff,” Todd explained. “We’ve taken over the house. We’re using it as a base of operations, and tomorrow we start a town-by-town tour of this district. So we’re running around like crazy, getting ready.” He checked his watch. “My campaign manager’s probably wondering where I am. Ever since that attempt on my life yesterday, I’m supposed to be kept under lock and key.”

  “Do the police have any clues or ideas yet?”

  “No, they’re hoping it was just a single crazy person acting on impulse and not a conspiracy. That way he won’t try again.”

  “I guess you’d better get back, then,” Nancy said, wishing he’d change his mind and ask her to come.

  “Yes, but listen, Nancy,” he said seriously. “I have to tell you that I’d be a lot happier if you’d just drop this whole thing about my father.”

  “I can tell that,” Nancy said. “But I don’t understand why.”

  Todd looked toward the roof of the mansion and sighed. “I never knew my father, but I heard a lot about him growing up. And what I heard wasn’t all good. He and my grandfather weren’t exactly saints.” He shook his head and sighed again. “They didn’t like to lose, and they didn’t like anyone who got in their way. I guess what I’m saying is that they played hardball, and they didn’t always play by the rules.”

  Nancy nodded, remembering Neil Gray’s accusations.

  “So if all this stuff gets dragged through the papers,” Todd went on, “it’s going to make people start to wonder if I’m the same as they were. And it could ruin my campaign.” He checked his watch again and then looked at Nancy. “You saved my life,” he told her, “and I owe you one. But I wish you wouldn’t go on with this investigation. I know I can’t stop you, but I’m not going to help you, either.”

  Nancy nodded again, but didn’t say anything. She was wondering about her own motives. She knew that part of her interest in the case was simply because any unsolved case was challenging. And part of it—she hated to admit—was because she wanted to beat Brenda Carlton. But she also believed that finding the truth could be helpful in the long run. No matter what Todd thought about his father, he would probably want to see justice done. If he was an honest man, that is—and she felt that he was. And, finally, Nancy was cer
tain Todd would prefer her investigation to Brenda’s.

  She watched as Todd Harrington walked up to the wall and pulled back two tall bushes that were growing next to it. Behind the bushes, part of the wall had crumbled, and Todd easily climbed over it and onto the grounds of Harrington House. The bushes sprang back into place, covering the break so that anyone who hadn’t seen it would never know it was there.

  But I know, Nancy thought with a smile. And I just found that other door.

  Back in her Mustang, Nancy turned on the radio full blast and headed down the winding cliff road toward town. Her head was a jumble of unanswered questions.

  Had John Harrington jumped out that window? If he had, there had to have been a reason. So far, no one had found one. If it was something like big money trouble, Mayor Abbott would probably have known, since he was Harrington’s secretary. But Abbott had told the police he couldn’t think of any reason why John Harrington would want to die.

  That brought Nancy back to murder. If John Harrington had been as ruthless as Neil Gray seemed to think, then he must have made many enemies. Neil Gray was at the top of her suspect list right then, but she couldn’t forget about Ogden the chauffeur either. If she could just find those two, she might get started.

  Nancy was keeping her fingers crossed that Ned’s parents would know about Gray, but what if they didn’t? And what about the chauffeur?

  Impatiently, Nancy flipped the dial on the radio. Hard rock was only making her head pound. She found a mellower station and tried to clear her head. But that didn’t work, either.

  Was Todd Harrington really afraid her investigation would hurt his campaign? Or did he know more than he was letting on?

  And what about Hannah? Why had she been so scared about this investigation?

  Nancy was thinking so hard that she didn’t notice the car behind her until it bumped into the Mustang. “Hey!” she said out loud, honking her horn. “This is not exactly a good road for tailgating!” She tapped her brake, trying to get the car behind her to back off.

  Instead, the car stayed on her tail, bumping the Mustang again. This time Nancy knew it was deliberate. She glanced into the rearview mirror, but she couldn’t tell who the driver was because of the sun. All she could tell was that the car was black.

  Nancy tightened her grip on the steering wheel and pushed down on the gas pedal. The Mustang shot forward, its tires hugging the narrow road and squealing around the sharp turns. As soon as she hit a straight stretch, Nancy checked the mirror again. The black car was still behind her, inches from her car. And now there was another car behind it—a tomato red model that was staying very close to the black one.

  What is this? Nancy wondered. Follow the leader? Another sharp turn was coming up, and she took it without braking. Her hands were sweating. Nancy loved to drive, but this ride was terrifying.

  The road seemed to twist and turn endlessly, even though Nancy knew it was only a couple of miles long. She’d go around a turn, and the sun would almost blind her, so she’d have to slow down. And every time she came out of one of those turns, the black car would bump her from behind. It wasn’t even a bump, really—it was more like a tap. But it was enough to make the Mustang rattle, and it was more than enough to make Nancy’s knuckles grow white as she clung to the steering wheel.

  Finally, up ahead, Nancy was able to see the last turn. Just hang on through that turn, she told herself, and after that when the road widens, you can pull over into the ditch if you have to.

  In spite of the black car only a foot behind her, Nancy made the last turn safely. As she came out of it, she checked her mirror and saw that the tomato red car was still with them. Nancy didn’t know if the two cars were together. And right at that moment, she didn’t really care. All she wanted to do was lose both of them.

  Up ahead, the road began to widen, and Nancy stepped on the gas. Just as she did, she saw a truck—a long, heavy gasoline truck—begin to lumber its way slowly across an intersection.

  At the speed she was going, Nancy knew it would be only seconds before she rammed that truck broadside.

  Chapter

  Five

  INSTINCTIVELY, NANCY WHIPPED her wheel to the right, jamming on the brakes and sending the Mustang into a wild spin. She knew her car might turn over, but even that would be better than plowing into a gasoline truck.

  The Mustang rocked and squealed and spun around twice, but it stayed on the ground. And it missed the truck, which was still inching its way across the road.

  Gasping, Nancy looked out, certain that her pursuer would never be able to swerve in time. She expected to hear the horrible sounds of a crash any second. Instead, the black sedan flew by Nancy’s car, cut to the left, and zipped around the back end of the truck, still going at top speed. Soon it was out of sight on the other side of the intersection.

  Nancy took a shaky breath and was just about to let go of her steering wheel when the sound of squealing brakes made her cringe again. The red car, she thought. I forgot all about it!

  In a flash the red car roared past, and as it did, Nancy caught a glimpse of the driver’s panicked face. It was Brenda Carlton, her black hair blowing wildly and her red-painted mouth open in a scream.

  Before Nancy had time to wonder why Brenda had been following her, the red car came to a screeching halt, just inches from the back of the gasoline truck. The truck, its lethal load untouched, continued to slowly move on.

  Nancy started the Mustang and pulled to the side of the road. Then she got out and waited, her eyes blazing, while Brenda moved out of the intersection.

  Brenda’s face was white when she walked over to Nancy, and her usual sneer was missing. But Nancy couldn’t feel much sympathy. She was furious.

  “What kind of game are you playing, Brenda?” she demanded. “You could have gotten us all killed! And don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. I know you were following me.”

  Brenda swallowed and brushed her hair out of her eyes. “Well, it’s true, I was following you,” she admitted. “But I didn’t know about the other car.”

  “What do you mean, you didn’t know?” Nancy asked. “You were right behind it.”

  “I mean, I don’t know who it was,” Brenda explained.

  “Why don’t you just tell me what you were up to?” Nancy said.

  “Okay.” Brenda took a deep breath. “Just by accident I saw you come out of the police station and get in your car, and I followed you. On the way up to the Harrington mansion, I passed the black car, but I didn’t think anything about it. When I got to Harrington House, your car was there, but you weren’t, so I decided to leave.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, there’s no place to hide up there,” Brenda said. “If I’d parked and waited for you, you would have seen me. Anyway,” she went on, “I went a little down the road and found a place just wide enough to turn around in. So I parked there and waited for you.”

  The black car must have done that, too, Nancy thought. The cliff road had more than one of those little turnarounds. “Well?” she said. “Then what?”

  “Then I saw your car coming back down. I waited a few seconds and was just about ready to pull out when the black car came zooming past.” Brenda shrugged. “I figured it was following you, so I followed it.”

  “It wasn’t just following me!” Nancy said. “Whoever was driving it wanted to run me off the road.”

  “Maybe not,” Brenda said. “After all, I saw what was going on. If that car had wanted to run you off the road, it could have. But it didn’t. Maybe the driver was just trying to scare you so you’ll stay away from the Harrington case.” She reached into her pocketbook for a brush and began fixing her hair. “You see?” she said with a pleased smile. “I was right—there is a mystery about this case. And somebody wants to cover it up.”

  “Okay, so let’s play detective,” Nancy suggested with a grin. “What was the make of the car?”

  “Um—” Brenda frowned. “I’m
not too good with cars. But it was a pretty new model, I think.”

  “Well, then, how about the license number?” Nancy asked. “Did you get that?”

  Brenda zipped up her pocketbook, looking almost embarrassed. “Well, not all of it,” she admitted. “I mean, we were all going so fast, and I was having enough trouble staying on the road. But I’m almost positive it started with a three.”

  “Great.” Nancy shook her head in disgust. “That really narrows it down, Brenda.”

  “All right, you don’t have to rub it in.” Brenda frowned, then tossed her hair triumphantly. “I can tell you this, though,” she said. “The driver was a man.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Please, Nancy, I do know a man from a woman!” Brenda said indignantly.

  “Okay.” Nancy nodded. “What else did you notice about him?”

  Brenda sighed impatiently. “I didn’t have all day to look, you know. But I did notice that he was tall. His head nearly reached the ceiling of the car.”

  A tall man, Nancy thought. Great! I only know thousands of them.

  “Well,” Brenda said, “if you’re all through cross-examining me, I think I’ll go.”

  “Just one more thing,” Nancy told her. “You haven’t explained why you were following me.”

  “Isn’t that obvious? I wanted to see if you’d gotten any leads.” Brenda smiled nastily. “After all, in a contest it’s always important to know what your opponent’s up to.”

  “The older Harringtons would have liked you a lot,” Nancy commented.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means you don’t play fair,” Nancy said. “And you’d better not follow me again,” she warned, “or I’ll let everybody know what you’ve been doing.”

  “Honestly, Nancy.” Brenda waved her hand at their two dust-covered cars. “Do you really think I want to get into another high-speed chase? I’d have to be crazy. Don’t worry, from now on if anyone’s following you, it won’t be me.”