Fatal Attraction

  “What’s this junk?” Mike exploded, staring at it.

  “Junk?” Brenda asked, offended. “This isn’t junk!”

  “It sure isn’t cash,” Mike said sullenly. “I told you to bring money—enough to keep us going for a couple of years, at least. Breaking into show biz doesn’t come cheap!”

  “But it was Saturday afternoon,” Brenda said, in a whiny voice. “The bank was closed. And besides, this stuff is worth a fortune.” She held up a glittering bracelet. “See those diamonds?” Brenda bragged. “They’re all real.”

  “I don’t care how real they are,” Mike growled. “They’re not worth a nickel if they can be traced.”

  “Traced?” Brenda asked, in genuine confusion. “But who would want to trace it? The jewelry is mine—it’s not stolen. I’ve got a right to sell it and spend the money any way I please.” She laughed lightly. “Don’t worry, Mike. I told you—I left a note for Daddy. He’s not going to bother us. Why don’t we just get out of here? On Monday we can sell a few of these pieces and we’ll have lots of cash. And you can get a job playing—”

  At that moment, a third figure—a man—stepped through the barn door. Without a word he struck a match against one of the massive timbers and lit an ancient kerosene lantern hanging on a nail. In its soft, golden light, Nancy could see the sinister smile on Felix’s face. There was a small pistol in his hand—and it was pointed right at Brenda.

  Chapter

  Sixteen

  ACTUALLY, MS. CARLTON, you’re not going to get a chance to help us spend that money.” Felix stepped forward and seized her cosmetics case.

  “Not going to . . . ?” Fearfully, Brenda looked from Mike to Felix and then back to Mike. She stood up, the bracelet falling from stiff fingers. “Mike, who is this guy?” she asked, her voice quavering. “What’s he talking about?”

  Mike stood where he was, making no move toward either Brenda or Felix.

  “There’s some rope over there in the corner,” Felix said, gesturing with his head. “It’s moldy, but it’ll do the trick. Get it and tie her up.”

  “Mike?” Without taking her eyes off Felix, Brenda began to back away from him. “Mike? What’s going on here? Don’t let him take my jewelry!” She turned to Mike, her voice growing shrill with panic. “Mike, tell me this isn’t happening! What’s going on here?”

  Felix threw back his head and laughed. Nancy could see the scar on his cheek.

  “Him? Help you? Brenda, my dear, I’m afraid our friend Mike Johnson isn’t the type to mess with somebody who’s got a gun. Believe me, under all those muscles there beats the heart of a true coward.” His laugh was grating. “Anyway, you’re missing the point. He wouldn’t help you. We’re on the same team. Aren’t we, my boy?”

  “Mike Johnson?” Brenda’s voice had dropped to a horrified whisper. She was staring at Mike, but he was looking at the floor. “But that’s not your name! He’s lying—all of this is a lie!”

  Mike took a step toward Felix. “How come we have to tie her up?” he asked. “The plan was just to grab the cash and take off.”

  “I know what the plan was.” Felix’s voice was gruff. “But I’ve changed it. In the first place, she didn’t bring cash. She brought traceables.” He bent over and picked up the bracelet, appraising it. “Good stuff, but traceable nevertheless. We’ve got to have a long head start to sell it before anyone gets wise.”

  Brenda shook her head petulantly, obviously refusing to accept the truth. “Don’t worry, Mike,” she said, putting both hands on his arm. “We’ll get out of this—together.”

  “You little fool!” Felix laughed. “You don’t think that you’re the first girl who’s fallen for this guy, do you? I’ll give this to him, he’s got a way with you women.”

  “But he loves me!” Brenda cried. Suddenly she launched herself at Felix, her arms flailing, her face twisted with fury. “He loves me!”

  For a moment Felix struggled with her, using his free arm. Then, with a single powerful shove, he pushed her into Mike’s arms.

  “Sure, he loves you,” Felix mocked. “Just like he loved Crystal. Remember Crystal, Mike, back in Indianapolis? And after that, there was Laura, and then Darla. Sure, he loves you.”

  Furiously, Brenda turned to face Mike. “Who’s Crystal?” she demanded, stamping her foot. “And Laura? And Darla?”

  Mike didn’t answer.

  “They were the last three girls who generously offered to help his career along,” Felix told her. “Or I suppose I should say that it was their parents who were the generous ones, when they found out that their sweet, innocent little daughters were about to run away with lover boy here.” He smiled at Mike. “There were others, too, weren’t there, Mike? But after a while, you forget their names. And their faces.”

  “But I don’t understand,” Brenda said in a hushed voice. Her shoulders were starting to slump. “Mike, tell me that this is all some sort of horrible joke! Please, Mike!”

  Felix sat down on a hay bale directly below Nancy, still keeping the gun pointed at Brenda.

  “Some joke.” He laughed. “You see, my dear, we’ve been playing this little game for quite a while, Mike and I. It’s very simple, really. We find a place where kids hang out—young girls like you, who have a lot of money and not a whole lot of sense. Mike’s good at his job, convincing a girl that he’s in love with her. I’m good at my job, too. I’m the one who convinces the parents that it would be smart to hand over their cash in order to get lover boy out of their daughters’ lives. See how simple it is? And if anybody’s got second thoughts, who do they complain to? About what? That their daughters were stupid enough to get mixed up with somebody like Mike? Or that they were dumb enough to fall for a payoff scheme?”

  “You won’t get away with this,” Brenda whispered. “When my father finds out—”

  “But we already have gotten away with it,” Felix reminded her, holding up the cosmetics case. “Although I must say,” he added, “that your friend Nancy Drew gave us so much trouble that we had to change our plan. But only slightly—I had to make a trip to Batesville last night, that’s all.”

  “Nancy Drew is no friend of mine,” Brenda retorted hotly.

  Felix shrugged. “No matter. Anyway, I took care of her last night.”

  “You did what?” Brenda asked, unbelieving. Her voice shook with fear and her face was pale.

  Felix didn’t answer. He had paused, considering. “And now, Miss Carlton, what do you suggest that we do with you?”

  Up in the loft, Nancy was watching and listening so intently that she’d almost forgotten where she was. But now she felt a tickling in her throat. The air was filled with hay dust, and suddenly she exploded into a disastrously loud sneeze.

  Down below, three faces turned suddenly upward. Felix pointed the gun up, gesturing menacingly. But the loft was dark, and Nancy was sure he couldn’t see her.

  “Okay! Whoever’s up there, you’ve got ten seconds to come down,” Felix shouted, running to the ladder and looking up. “If you don’t, I’ll let you have it.”

  Nancy flattened herself against the floor of the loft, her breath coming fast. She had thought of using the trapdoor as a diversion, but since Felix had moved, that wouldn’t work. She could make a dash for the hayloft door, but it was thirty feet away and most of the floorboards were in bad shape.

  “Do you want me to go up and check it out?” Mike volunteered.

  “No, we don’t have time to play hide-and-seek,” Felix said. “Whoever’s up there has heard and seen way too much.” He hesitated for a moment. Then he reached for the lantern and began to swing it back and forth.

  “Hey, you up there,” he said. “See this? In five seconds, I’m sending this up to keep you company.” He began to count. “One, two—”

  “Okay, okay, I’m coming down.” Nancy got slowly to her feet. George must surely have found Ned and be on the way by now. If she could only stall for time, help would arrive.

  Below, Brenda
exclaimed, “It’s Nancy!”

  “You’re crazy,” Felix snapped. “I told you I took care of her.” He put the lantern down and came over to the foot of the ladder. “You up there—hurry it up!”

  Cautiously, Nancy backed down the ladder and turned to face Felix. For a stunned second, Felix stared at her, disbelieving.

  “You!” he breathed at last. “I thought I finished you off last night!”

  Nancy shook her head. “Oh, no,” she said pleasantly, dusting off her hands, hoping that her fear wasn’t showing. “I was just a little shaken up, that’s all.”

  Then a thought occurred to her. “Didn’t Chief Saunders warn you that I was on my way back?” she added, trying to make her guess sound more like a statement. “He is the one who told you I was in Batesville, isn’t he?”

  Something flickered in Felix’s eyes.

  “I think I’ve figured it all out,” Nancy went on conversationally. She took a deep breath to quiet her fear. “But I still don’t understand why he was willing to cover up both extortion and murder.” She threw a quick look at Mike.

  “He was getting a cut at the start,” Felix snarled. “After the girl died, he was willing to do anything to save his own skin.”

  “Hey!” Mike stepped forward out of the shadows. “What’s this about murder? What girl are you talking about?”

  “Why, about Darla DeCamp,” Nancy replied, turning to face him. “Weren’t you an accomplice?” But of course he wasn’t, Nancy knew. Back in the trailer park, he’d been the one who made it clear that he’d never thought about murder!

  “Shut up!” Felix commanded. He raised the gun and held it to Nancy’s temple. “You talk too much! It’s time to close this case, Detective Drew!”

  Chapter

  Seventeen

  BUT MIKE WAS staring at Felix. “Darla’s dead?” he asked dazedly. “You mean, you murdered Darla?”

  “Of course I murdered her,” Felix told him. “I had to—you were so crazy about her I couldn’t tell what you were going to do.”

  Nancy watched as Mike stood there, hands dangling at his sides. “I can’t believe it,” he said blankly. “I can’t believe she’s dead.”

  “Darla?” Brenda cried. She pounded her fist on Mike’s arm. “Who is this Darla, anyway?”

  “Shut up!” Felix shouted, swiveling to aim his pistol at Brenda. “Just shut up!”

  Then, without warning, Mike threw himself at Felix. “You scum!” he shouted, enraged. The point of his shoulder caught Felix with a thud in the midsection and they crashed heavily to the floor. Felix’s hand slammed against the boards and the gun slid out of sight under a pile of hay.

  In an instant Felix had scrambled to his feet. The two combatants circled in a crouch, as Nancy watched, holding her breath. But Felix was smaller and much older than Mike, and Mike’s unexpected attack seemed to have knocked the confidence out of him.

  “Are you crazy, kid?” he whined. His eyes darted back and forth warily as he looked for the gun. “We’re in this together, aren’t we? What’s the matter with you?”

  “So that’s why you wouldn’t let me go back and talk to her!” Mike shouted furiously. “She was dead! You killed her, that night at the lake! She was dead and I loved her!”

  With that, he crashed into Felix again, and the two began to thrash furiously on the barn floor. On top, Mike had his hands around Felix’s neck and was choking him. Felix’s face grew a mottled red as he gasped for breath, trying frantically to pull Mike’s hands away from his throat. Brenda stood still as a statue, her hands clenched, her eyes blazing with anger.

  Nancy glanced upward. The two were directly beneath the trapdoor. And there on the wooden post right next to her hand, the cord was looped around a cleat. With all her might, Nancy yanked the rope, freeing the wooden peg from the hasp. Up above, the ancient hinge screeched and the door fell open, releasing the hay and burying the struggling pair. Over in the corner Nancy’s eye caught a sudden flicker. The lantern! The hay had fallen on the hot lantern and caught fire!

  “Come on, Brenda,” Nancy cried, grabbing for Brenda’s hand. “Let’s get out of here! This whole place is going to go up!”

  “No!” Brenda came suddenly to life. “I’m not going! I want to see Mike get what’s coming to him! After what he did to me, he deserves to get beaten to a pulp!” In the corner the hay began to crackle and blaze.

  Nancy reached for Brenda’s arm. “I said, let’s get out of here,” she gritted, between clenched teeth. With one hand on Brenda’s back and the other still holding her arm, she hustled Brenda toward the barn door.

  “Let me go!” Brenda screeched. “Let me go!”

  Somehow Nancy’s shoving got the two of them safely through the door. Only then did Nancy release her grip on Brenda, who collapsed in a heap on the grass, sobbing hysterically.

  Nancy looked up. Brenda’s jewelry was still in the barn, but they’d have to try and get it out later. Behind her, flames were beginning to flicker through the windows. But down the lane she could see headlights—one, two, three pairs of headlights!

  “Here! Over here!” Nancy cried, jumping up and down and waving her arms.

  The lead driver turned on a siren and a flashing red light as the column of cars broke into a line and raced three abreast across the meadow. The cars on the two flanks roared ahead of the third, a black Lincoln. The car on the right, Ned’s car, headed straight for Nancy and screeched to a halt in the barn lot. On the left a River Heights police car executed a perfect fishtail skid and stopped just short of the barn.

  “Nancy! Are you okay?” It was Ned, piling out of his car with Bess and George.

  But Nancy was running toward the police car. Sergeant Robinson jumped out of one door. From the other sprang a young man dressed in a dark suit, white shirt, and tie. “Where are they?” he shouted, jerking a snub-nosed revolver from a shoulder holster.

  “In the barn!” Nancy yelled. “Hurry—the place is on fire!” As she turned, the whole side of the barn erupted in a searing belch of flame and black smoke.

  But at that moment Mike came through the barn door, silhouetted against the orange flames. He was shoving Felix ahead of him. Felix threw up his arms to shield his face from the glare of the headlights.

  Instantly, the young man lifted his gun. “FBI!” he barked. “Hold it right there, both of you! Frankson! You’re under arrest!”

  Felix fell forward onto his knees. “I’ve had enough,” he groaned. “Don’t let him hit me again!”

  Nancy stepped forward. “The young guy,” she told the FBI agent, “is Frankson’s accomplice in a local extortion attempt.” She had to raise her voice over the crackle of the flames. “He’s also a suspect in other extortions—and possibly an accessory to murder.”

  “I have a fugitive warrant on Frankson,” the FBI agent said, turning to Sergeant Robinson. “Do you want to hold the kid?”

  “I want him held for extortion!” Brenda said, her face twisted with fury. “Throw the book at him!” She turned on Mike. “How could you do such a thing to me?” she spat at him. “How could you—”

  “That’s enough, Brenda!” Mr. Carlton grabbed her arm. “It’s all over now. Leave him alone.”

  The two men were searched and handcuffed, and Sergeant Robinson and the FBI agent led them toward the police car. Behind them the burning roof collapsed with a loud roar and a shower of sparks.

  Suddenly Brenda shook off her father’s arm and ran up to Mike. “I hate you,” she screamed. “I hate you, I hate you, I—”

  “I’m sorry, Brenda,” Mike muttered, head down. “I didn’t mean for it to end this way.”

  But Brenda wasn’t listening. She turned to her father. “Daddy, I want him to pay for this. I want him locked up for the rest of his—”

  Mr. Carlton grabbed Brenda around the waist and began to pull her toward the Lincoln. “One more word,” he threatened, “and I’ll cut off your allowance for a whole year!”

  Chapter

&
nbsp; Eighteen

  SMILING, NANCY LAY back on her beach towel and surveyed the vast expanse of grass and trees in the Carlton backyard. In the swimming pool, George and Bess were batting a big orange ball back and forth across a net. Ned was lying on his stomach beside Nancy, enjoying the warm sun.

  “At last,” he said, reaching happily for Nancy’s hand. “We can get back to our interrupted vacation.”

  Mr. Carlton came out onto the patio beside the pool, wearing white slacks and a white shirt.

  “Sorry I was delayed at the paper,” he said to Nancy. “But I’m glad that you and your friends could come over and enjoy yourselves.” He sat down in a chair beside them. “After all you’ve done for Brenda and me, a small pool party seems the least we can do for you.”

  “It’s not exactly a small pool party,” Nancy remarked, glancing at the table loaded with gourmet delicacies. If she ate another ounce, she wouldn’t be able to get into her jeans when it was time to go home.

  “Speaking of Brenda,” Ned said, “where is she?”

  Mr. Carlton grinned. “Well, that’s the reason I’m late.” He handed Nancy a typewritten page. “This was written by a certain junior reporter that I believe you’re acquainted with.”

  Nancy began to read the page out loud to Ned.

  MOST-WANTED CRIMINAL BROUGHT TO JUSTICE

  On Saturday night, after a long and hazardous undercover investigation, a staff reporter of Today’s Times revealed the whereabouts of Felix Frankson, an escaped murderer known to be very dangerous—

  With a gasp, Nancy stopped reading.

  “But that’s not what happened,” Ned said hotly.

  “You’re absolutely right.” Mr. Carlton’s grin broadened. “As editor, I had to deliver a rather stern lecture to this particular junior reporter and remind her that fiction has no place in responsible journalism. In fact I insisted that the piece be completely rewritten, with strict attention to the facts. I’m afraid Brenda will be delayed—until she gets it right.”