Circle of Evil

  And I’ve had it up to here with this whole night, Nancy thought tiredly. “Wait a minute,” she said. “How do you know I’m not supposed to be here? I’m a member of this club, and so is my father.”

  “Yeah? Well, you ought to know the rules then,” the voice said. “The rules say no one’s allowed on the grounds after hours without a pass. Where’s your pass?”

  Good question, Nancy thought. “I forgot it,” she said. “And you haven’t told me who you are yet. What gives you the right to treat me like a criminal?”

  Slowly, the light bobbed and came nearer. As it did, Nancy was able to see who was behind it. A very short, very skinny man who didn’t look like his powerful voice sounded.

  “I’m the night watchman,” the man informed her. “Your father—if he really does belong to the club—helps pay my salary. So I have the right to chase you off this property because it’s my job.”

  Nancy suddenly sat up straighter. “When did you go on duty?” she asked.

  “Ten, twenty minutes ago.”

  “Did you see anyone else?” Nancy asked. “Going in or out of the clubhouse, maybe?”

  “Nope. I park at the front entrance, walk around the golf course, then cut over to the clubhouse. The place is locked up tight, just like it should be,” he said. “I did think I saw someone jogging down the drive. Could have been one of the staff, but since he was on his way out, I didn’t stop to check. Besides, I was clear over by the fifth hole.”

  “He?” Suddenly, Nancy didn’t feel tired anymore. “What did he look like?”

  “I told you, I decided not to check,” the man repeated impatiently. “He was probably part of the staff, like I said. The staff can use this place anytime they want, and they don’t need passes. You wouldn’t believe how many kids like you decide to have midnight picnics and then leave their trash all over the grass.”

  “I told you I didn’t—” Nancy stopped herself. Arguing wasn’t going to do her any good, and if she told the truth, he’d probably call the police. “Look,” she said. “You’re right. Some friends of mine dared me to sneak in here and go for a swim.”

  The light swept around as the man observed her soaking clothes and drenched sneakers. “Shoes and all, huh?” he asked skeptically.

  “Right,” Nancy said, quickly. “After all, if I don’t come back wet, they’ll never believe I did it.”

  The night watchman shook his head, obviously disgusted with what he thought was a dumb prank. Then he surprised Nancy by giving a short laugh. “Maybe that guy I saw leaving wasn’t staff after all,” he said, laughing again. “Maybe it was one of your friends, checking up on you.”

  Some friend, Nancy thought. “Listen,” she said, standing and picking up her shoes. “I’ve never done anything like this before, and, believe me, I don’t plan on doing anything like it again. Why don’t I just get out of here now, and we’ll both forget the whole thing?”

  “I’m not about to forget it,” the man told her. “But I think your getting out of here sounds like the best idea you’ve had all night.”

  “You’re right about that,” Nancy said, and she started off toward the golf course.

  “The entrance is that way,” the man said, waving his flashlight in another direction.

  “But I have to pretend I’m sneaking back out,” Nancy called. “It’s all part of the dare.”

  Shaking his head again, the man finally let her go. Nancy skirted the pool and the lounge chairs, moving quickly until she reached the golf course and was out of his sight.

  So, she thought, as she headed barefoot toward the pond, the people who work here can come and go as they please. The night watchman must know them all, so if he sees any of them here at night, he wouldn’t be the least bit suspicious. That’s very nice. And if some of the people who work here just happen to be using it as a base of operations for a bunch of robberies, then that’s also very nice—for them.

  It could be someone on the staff, Nancy thought. But who? And what about Rita or Cindy? Just because it was a man who had attacked her in the pool didn’t mean one of the women wasn’t involved. She could be working with someone. Or a few people could all be working together.

  How many people were involved, and who they were, Nancy didn’t know yet. But she did know one thing—they were on to her. That night had definitely been a warning.

  Well, Nancy thought, there’s no way I’m going to back off. I’m just going to have to be more careful, that’s all. And she had to warn Bess and George and Ned, too.

  Thinking of Ned, Nancy began to hurry. She’d been gone a long time—he must be going crazy, wondering what had happened. Once she reached the wall at the edge of the golf course, she forced her feet into the sopping sneakers, found a low point in the wall that had crumbled a bit, and climbed over.

  The woods weren’t any easier to get through on the way back, and by the time Nancy reached the edge of the Winslow property, she felt completely drained. A shower, she thought. A hot shower, then some dry clothes, and then food. A cheeseburger and a chocolate shake. And fries. Lots of fries.

  Her stomach rumbling, Nancy passed the willow tree she had hidden beneath, hurried by the house and through the trees in the front, and finally stepped through the hedge and onto the street. Then she stopped, her mouth falling open in amazement.

  Ned was still there. But instead of sitting in his car, he was leaning against it, his face turned sideways and pressed up against the roof as Detective John Ryan frisked him.

  Chapter

  Nine

  HEY!” NANCY COULDN’T believe what she was seeing. “What’s going on?” she shouted, running the last few yards to Ned’s car.

  Detective Ryan barely glanced at her. “What’s going on is the apprehension of a suspicious character,” he said. “Not that it’s any of your business, Ms. Drew.”

  “Suspicious?” Nancy almost laughed. “Believe me, Detective, there’s absolutely no reason to suspect Ned of anything.”

  “I suppose you know him?”

  “Yes, I do. He’s my boyfriend, Ned Nickerson.”

  “And I suppose you’re going to tell me that he has a good reason for prowling around one of the wealthiest neighborhoods in town?” Detective Ryan continued searching Ned.

  “I already told you the reason,” Ned said, still leaning against the car. “I was looking for my date.”

  “That’s right,” Nancy said. “And here I am, so now you have to believe him.”

  The detective finally let go of Ned and turned to face Nancy. When he saw her wet hair and clothes, and the scratches on her face and hands, he frowned. “Is this the latest way to dress for a date?” he asked sarcastically.

  “Of course not,” Nancy said, trying to think of a way to explain things. “We were driving around, and—I thought I saw somebody sneaking around this house. So I got out of the car to look around, and Ned waited for me.”

  “Right,” Ned said. “When she didn’t come back, I went looking for her. I walked around the house, and then I drove around the neighborhood a few times. Then I decided to come back to the house one last time and look around. That’s why whoever called you said I was prowling.”

  “Called?” Nancy asked. “You got a call about Ned?”

  The detective nodded. “An anonymous tip. Somebody reported a prowler on the grounds of the Winslow house.”

  “When was this?” Nancy wanted to know.

  “Fifteen minutes ago.”

  Fifteen minutes, Nancy thought. Just enough time for my pool companion to get to a phone to call the police. He would have guessed I had to come back here.

  “But I think I’ve answered enough questions,” the detective said, breaking into her thoughts. “What about you, Ms. Drew? Do you always hop out of cars every time you see someone walking around a house?”

  “No, I don’t,” Nancy said, knowing he wasn’t going to like what she had to say. “But I knew the Winslows were leaving town, and I knew their house would be empty.
They probably have a lot of valuable stuff in there, so I—”

  “So you just decided to take things into your own hands,” the detective said interrupting. “Look, Ms. Drew, I warned you before, and I’m going to warn you just one more time—stay off this case.”

  Without waiting for an answer, the detective opened the door of Ned’s car and motioned Nancy to get inside. Ned slid in next to her and started the engine. Before he could pull away, though, Detective Ryan leaned down to the passenger window, a frosty look in his blue eyes. “Just one more thing, Ms. Drew. You never did explain why you’re soaking wet. What did you do, fall into the Winslows’ pool?”

  “Well, it was awfully warm, Detective,” Nancy answered. “And the water was very cool. Let’s just say I couldn’t resist it.”

  As Ned drove away, Nancy leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes. “I wanted to tell him everything that happened tonight, but I got the feeling he wouldn’t have listened to a word I said.”

  “What did happen, anyway?” Ned asked.

  “I did go for a swim,” Nancy said. “But as I told Detective Ryan, I just couldn’t resist.”

  While Ned drove through the quiet streets, Nancy told him what had happened after she left him.

  “Joanna let the whole world know who I was, so that made me a very easy target,” she said, finishing her story as Ned pulled up in front of the Drews’ home. “But at least I’m sure I’m on the right trail. Whoever’s behind those robberies has to have something to do with the country club. That’s certain now.”

  “Right.” Ned agreed and slipped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “The question is who? And what are we going to do now?”

  Nancy leaned back against him, relaxing for the first time that night. “Keep looking,” she said.

  “But as you said, they’re probably on to you. And that dunking tonight wasn’t just for fun,” Ned commented. “They’re dangerous, and you’ve been warned to back off.”

  “I know,” Nancy said. “I’ll just have to keep my eyes open wide from now on. And so will Bess and George and you,” she said, turning to kiss his cheek. “At least they haven’t seen any of us together at the club. But we’ll have to be careful to keep it that way.”

  After kissing him again, Nancy got out of the car and walked up to her house, her squishy sneakers leaving wet prints on the front walk. She remembered the prints she had seen earlier, and she knew she had to find out who had made them before he followed her again.

  • • •

  The next day, Nancy arrived at the club alone. Because George and Bess weren’t members, Nancy had given them passes and told them to come individually, too. Ned was to stay away that day.

  First, Nancy walked down to the tennis courts, hoping that maybe Cindy had decided to hang out there. She saw George and Jim playing a game, and she saw Max Fletcher. But there was no one around with flaming red hair, so she headed for the pool.

  It was hot. The pool was packed, and Mike, as head lifeguard, was on duty as usual. He was too busy keeping an eye on the crowds to listen to conversations about people’s valuables, or even to take a break. Nancy watched him for a few minutes, wondering if he was as good at drowning people as he was at saving them. He was big enough to have held her under water the night before.

  Soon she went into the lounge, which was more crowded than the pool. Zach was working, as were two other bartender-waiters. They were scurrying around, filling glasses with soda, iced tea, and lemonade. Even Zach, who was usually so chatty, didn’t stop at a single table for more than five seconds. He did find time to throw Nancy a quick wink; except for that, though, he was on the run.

  Nancy had hoped to speak to everyone working in the lounge. If she was careful about the questions she asked, she might have learned something. But unless the crowds suddenly thinned out, she wouldn’t get the chance.

  There’s still Rita, she thought. Even though it had been a man in the pool with her, that didn’t mean Rita wasn’t in on the robberies in some way. After all, she got an earful while she gave her massages.

  When Nancy got downstairs, Rita was busy. Nancy wanted to wait and eavesdrop but decided that might be a little too obvious. Instead, she just asked if Rita had an opening, then walked down the hall to the women’s locker room, where she locked up her bag. Might as well get some exercise while I’m waiting, she thought, and she went into the weight room.

  Half an hour later, Rita stuck her head around the weight room door and told Nancy she could take her then. Her arms and thighs feeling like dead weight themselves, Nancy followed Rita into the massage room.

  “Hop on the table,” Rita said with a smile. “I’ll loosen you up.”

  Within fifteen minutes, the soreness had left Nancy’s muscles, and she felt so relaxed she wanted to take a nap. Rita knew her business, she thought.

  “You look like you’re falling asleep,” Rita remarked, pounding Nancy’s legs with the sides of her hands. “Want me to call up to the lounge and order you a drink?”

  “I think they’re too busy up there,” Nancy said. “The place is jumping.”

  “Oh, right,” Rita said. “Well, I’ve got a quick call to make, if you don’t mind. It’ll just take a second.” While Nancy waited, her eyes closed, Rita spoke into the phone. “Just wanted to let you know that I can’t make it,” she said. “But I’ll be in touch, okay? ’Bye.”

  Turning back to Nancy, Rita sighed. “Boy, am I glad to be inside on a day like this! I don’t see how anybody can stay out in the sun when it’s so hot. Of course, it’s mostly the kids who do. The older people all come inside and sit around talking.”

  “Everybody’s very friendly at the club,” Nancy said.

  “That’s for sure.” Rita laughed. “I can’t believe some of the things people tell me. They talk about their love lives and their problems, their jobs—”

  “And their money.” Nancy finished for her. “The older people around here talk a lot about that, don’t they?”

  Laughing, Rita dug her fingers into the back of Nancy’s neck. “Well, most of them have plenty of it, so I guess it’s normal to talk about it.”

  “I suppose,” Nancy said. “But I think if I were really rich I’d be more discreet about it.”

  Rita laughed again. “I would, too. If I had what some of them have, you can bet I wouldn’t tell a single living soul.”

  But does she have what they have? Nancy wondered. Or some of what they have, like an antique necklace and a painting by Picasso? And if she does, how am I going to find out? Rita talks, but she doesn’t really say much.

  Five minutes later, Nancy decided to give up on Rita, for the moment, anyway. Yawning, she walked to the locker room. Just before she turned in the door, she saw a short, slender girl with hair the color of carrots come out of the weight room. It was Cindy.

  For a second, Cindy stood completely still, her large eyes wide and staring. Then, suddenly, she leaped forward, brushed past Nancy, and raced for the stairs, taking them two at a time.

  Nancy raced after her, up the stairs and into the crowded lounge. She glanced around, certain she could spot that hair anyplace, but there was no sign of it. Cindy couldn’t be that far ahead, she thought, and she made her way as quickly as possible through the crowd and out into the pool area.

  The patio was packed. Nancy looked everywhere, but there was still no sign of Cindy. Skirting the pool area, she was just about to head for the tennis courts when she heard the squeal of a car’s tires.

  Turning, Nancy was just in time to see a small yellow convertible peel out of the parking lot and head down the entrance drive. She was too far away to spot the license number, but there was no question about who the driver was. Cindy’s hair looked as if it were on fire.

  Frustrated, Nancy watched the car disappear down the drive. Cindy was feeling very guilty, that was obvious. But about what? Rifling through Mrs. Ames’s beach bag? Or stealing from people’s houses? Or both?

  Still
thinking about it, Nancy went back into the clubhouse and down to the locker room.

  After she opened her locker, Nancy pulled out her canvas bag and was going to sling it over her shoulder. But then she noticed a white envelope sticking halfway out of the side pocket. Curious, she took it out and opened it. Inside was a piece of paper with a typed message. The message read: “We know what you’re up to. But does your father? Forget about finding us, or we’ll arrange a meeting with him—by the diving pool. How long can he hold his breath?”

  Chapter

  Ten

  I UNDERSTAND WHY you’re worried, Nancy,” Carson Drew said after she had called him at his law office and explained what had happened. “But I’m leaving for New York tonight, remember? I’m going straight from the office. Actually, I have to leave in ten minutes or I’ll miss the plane.” He laughed lightly. “I think I’ll be safe between here and the airport.”

  “I’m not worried about right now, Dad,” Nancy said. She knew her father was leaving town—he was going to visit some friends and attend a lawyers’ meeting in New York for a day or two. So she had rushed straight home from the club to warn him before he went. “I’m worried about when you come back. After all, you’ll be home soon, and these people are serious.”

  “It certainly sounds like it,” her father said. “Which is why I’m more worried about you than about me. Don’t you think you should go to the police on this one?”

  “I want to give it a little more, time,” Nancy said with a sigh. “I told you about Detective Ryan, remember?”

  “I take it you two still haven’t hit it off.”

  “No. He thinks I’m a giant pain in the neck.” Nancy shook her head. “Anyway, I’m being careful. Don’t worry.”

  “Well, I’m sure you think you know what you’re doing, but just remember, you don’t have eyes in the back of your head,” her father said, warning her. “Forget about me, and look out for yourself.”