Brenda nodded, but there was a defiant look in her eyes. She still didn't seem to recognize the seriousness of her slip.
"Now," said Stokes, consulting his notes. "We got preliminary statements yesterday from Irene Neff, Renee Clark, Annette Lang, Charles Mellor, and Kevin Davis. I'm going to need to know their whereabouts for last night, too."
It took some doing, but Sergeant Stokes managed to find everyone. Renee Clark and Charles Mellor were at the gym, but Irene and Kevin both had to be tracked down at their offices. Annette was on a run, so the police officer left a message for her at the front desk, asking her to join them when she returned.
An hour later everyone but Annette and Kevin was assembled in the lobby. George had joined them, too, when she returned to the hotel after her workout.
Sergeant Stokes decided not to delay questioning any longer. Taking Nancy, Bess, and George aside, he said, "I'd like you to be here, too. See if what they say fits with what you know."
As the sergeant led them into the empty press room, Brenda Carlton started in as well.
"Where are you going?" Stokes asked, barring her way.
"I thought Fd sit in," Brenda said with a smile that faded quickly under Stokes's glare.
"You thought wrong. This isn't an open forum for your gossip column. It's police business."
Red-faced, Brenda turned and left the room.
Stokes stood in front of the three suspects, who sat on the room's couch. Nancy, Bess, and George stood off to the side.
"Sometime late last night, Gina Giraldi was attacked by someone. She sustained serious head injuries and is unconscious in the hospital at this very moment."
Nancy studied the suspects' reactions as they heard this news. They all looked shocked.
"You can't think any of us had something to do with this?" Renee asked.
"We'll be talking to a number of people," said the sergeant, avoiding a direct answer. "There may be a link between what happened to Gina and some ugly attacks on Annette Lang lately."
"That car that almost ran Annette over," Renee said softly. "I saw that—it was awful!"
"That and other things," said the sergeant. He paused as Annette entered the room, still dressed in her sliver-and-black running outfit.
Nancy noticed that the runner appeared shaken. Her eyes darted every which way, and her hands were clasped together so tightly that her knuckles were white.
"Please join us, Ms. Lang," Sergeant Stokes said.
"Is it true, what I heard about Gina?" Annette asked in a shaky voice, sitting down on an upholstered chair.
The police officer nodded. "It's true."
"So what do you want with me?" Annette asked.
"Give me a break!" Irene burst out." 'What do you want with me?'" she mimicked. "As if everyone didn't know you hate Gina. You're what's called a suspect, Annette."
"I'm a suspect?" Anger replaced the worry in Annette's face. "If there's a logical suspect around here, you're it. If Gina was planning to expose any dirty linen, yours would be at the top of the bag."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Irene demanded, standing up.
Nancy saw Sergeant Stokes listening quietly. Questioning suspects this way might be unorthodox, but Nancy now realized that the sergeant had probably done it intentionally. Things might be blurted out in anger that wouldn't be said otherwise.
"It means that you're the most likely one to have organized a conspiracy against me," Annette shot back. She turned to Stokes and explained. "She's had it in for me ever since I turned down an endorsement contract for TruForm, and she'll do anything to improve Renee's chances of winning."
"That's a lie!" Irene took a step forward, but Sergeant Stokes stopped her with a gesture.
At that moment Kevin walked into the room. He seemed taken aback by the tension and hostility and said nothing as he took a seat across from Annette.
Irene picked up where she had left off. "It's true, I did talk to Annette about endorsing TruForm, but I'm glad she turned us down. Renee is the runner we want. We don't need to sabotage you, Annette. Renee will beat you fair and square!"
"Why are you making these accusations against Irene?" Renee suddenly jumped into the argument and faced Annette. "You have no proof —you're just doing it to hurt her. I used to admire you, Annette, but now I think you're just selfish and malicious. I'm going to enjoy beating you tomorrow."
Annette smiled. "Talk is cheap, Renee. You're going to eat those words."
"All right, that'll do," the sergeant interrupted, raising both hands to stop the flow of accusations. "This is all very interesting, but I have some questions to ask everyone before you can go. I want you all to tell me where you were between nine last night and eight this morning. Let's start with you, Ms. Neff."
"I was in my room, working until one-thirty. Then I went to sleep. I came down for breakfast with Renee and Charles at seven-thirty."
Renee had gone to sleep early. She was up at six-thirty, did some light exercise in her room, and met Irene and her trainer in the lobby at seven-thirty. Kevin had gone home after having dinner with George and her friends, and Mellor and Annette stated that they had been in their rooms the whole night. No one had any witnesses.
Sergeant Stokes sighed. "This certainly hasn't gotten us anywhere. I'm giving you all my phone number. If any of you wants to tell me something in confidence, just call. For the moment that'll be all. Ms. Drew, stick around a second."
"We'll wait outside," Bess whispered as she and George filed out with the others. When the press room was empty, Sergeant Stokes turned to Nancy.
"I called the River Heights police and spoke to the chief there—McGinnis, I think it was," Stokes said. "He tells me you're not just a
meddling busybody, that I can trust you. So I will. Do you have anything to add about what's going on here?"
"Nothing," Nancy answered. "Are you doing background checks on the suspects?"
The sergeant nodded. "They're in progress. I should have results today. Fll keep you informed, and I assume you'll do the same."
"You can count on it," Nancy assured him.
As soon as she rejoined her friends outside the press room, Bess grabbed her arm. "There's something we have to do right away," she said.
"What?" Nancy asked.
"We need to have breakfast—before I starve to death!"
"How was your run, George?" Bess asked that afternoon when George returned.
"Short but great," George replied. Nancy and Bess were sitting on the terrace, and George had gone out to join them. "I just wanted to run enough to keep limber, and I met up with a group of runners like me who're doing their first marathon. We're getting together later for a big carbo-loading dinner. Any news on Gina?"
Nancy shook her head. She had called the Good Samaritan Hospital, where Gina had been taken, a few times. All they could tell her was that Gina was still unconscious.
The phone rang just then, and Nancy went into the room to get it. "Are you busy?" Annette asked. "There's something I need to talk to you about."
"Sure," Nancy said. "Is something wrong?"
There was a slight pause. "Could you come downstairs and meet me in the lobby?"
Nancy agreed, but she was frowning as she hung up the phone. "Annette wants to talk to me downstairs," she told Bess and George. "She wouldn't say what it's about, but I have a feeling it's not good news."
"Maybe Bess and I should come, in case there's some kind of trouble," George suggested.
"Definitely," Bess agreed.
In the lobby Annette greeted them with a nervous smile. "Let's go outside, where we won't be overheard."
Nancy looked around. The lobby wasn't very crowded, and nobody was paying them any particular attention. But Annette appeared to be on edge, so Nancy decided to humor her. The runner was under a lot of strain, after all.
"Is something wrong?" Nancy asked as Annette led her, Bess, and George out of the Woodville and down the hotel's curved drive.
 
; Annette nodded and said, "It's about what's been happening the last few days."
"What?" Nancy asked. Her concern grew as she noticed Annette's pale face and red-rimmed eyes.
Suddenly a squeal of tires made Nancy spin around.
A beat-up car had swung its nose toward the sidewalk just behind them. Nancy realized with a start that it was the same car that had tried to run down Annette in the park!
The passenger door flew open, and a man clothed entirely in black jumped out. His face was covered by a ski mask.
Before Nancy, her friends, or passersby on the busy street could react, the man sprinted up behind Annette and grabbed her around the throat with his left arm. With his right he twisted her arm sharply behind her back and dragged her toward the waiting car!
Chapter Fifteen
ANNETTE let out a scream of terror that spurred Nancy into action.
She leapt forward as the struggling pair neared the car and kicked sharply at the side of the attacker's knee. There was a muffled cry of pain from behind the ski mask, and the man dropped Annette's arm to clutch his leg.
Nancy lunged for the mask, but the assailant jumped back out of her reach. As he did so, Annette was pulled off-balance, and she fell to the ground, out of the assailant's grasp.
The masked person dived headfirst into the front seat and slammed the car door shut. Several passersby were spurred into action and headed toward the car. Before they or Nancy could get to it, the car took off down the drive and swung out into the busy downtown traffic. Even through the tinted glass, Nancy could see that the assailant was at the wheel. Then the car was gone, leaving an angry blare of horns behind it.
"That's the same car that the person who shot at us was driving," Nancy said.
"And that was definitely a man," George said.
"Yes, it was," Nancy said.
A few feet away several people were helping Annette to her feet. "How are you?" Nancy asked, going over to the runner. "Are you all right?"
"Fine, thanks to you," Annette replied. "I owe you again, Nancy."
"No problem," Nancy told her with a smile. "All part of the service."
The crowd that had formed dispersed. Suddenly Nancy noticed that Brenda Carlton was standing outside the hotel's entrance. An expensive-looking camera was hanging from the reporter's neck, and she was talking into a portable tape recorder in her hand.
"Boy, Brenda doesn't lose any time getting a story—" Nancy muttered. Then she broke off as another thought occurred to her.
"Don't go anywhere," she told Annette. "I'll be right back."
Nancy hurried over to Brenda and asked, "Did you see what just happened?"
"Naturally," Brenda said, giving Nancy a satisfied smile. "And I got great pictures, too. My editor is going to love this."
Something about the reporter's timely appearance seemed very fishy to Nancy. "Why were you out here, Brenda?" she asked.
Brenda attempted a casual shrug, but it didn't look convincing. "I just happened to be outside."
"Just happened?" Nancy repeated, crossing her arms over her chest. "Come on, Brenda, try again."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Brenda said indignantly.
"You never carry a camera—you're not a photographer. Come on, Brenda, let's have it."
Glaring at Nancy, Brenda said, "Well, so what if someone called me? I don't see what difference that makes."
Nancy resisted the urge to shake the reporter. "Tell me all about it."
"There's not much to tell," Brenda said airily. "I was in my room, and the phone rang and someone said that if I wanted a good item, I should be in front of the hotel with a camera in five minutes."
So someone had warned Brenda. But who? The attacker seemed like the logical person—no one else would know what was going to happen. But why would the person want to get publicity and risk being identified? It didn't make sense.
"The caller didn't give a name?" Nancy asked.
"Of course not," Brenda answered. "Reporters get anonymous tips like that all the time."
Ignoring Brenda's snooty attitude, Nancy asked, "You couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman?"
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 ten-
sion. "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 Fm 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.