Poison Pen

  “I couldn’t believe it when Rick told me about his aunt, and I realized I had made up a story that was actually happening!” Brenda went on. Nancy noticed that she made it sound as if she’d done something really great.

  A moment later, however, Brenda’s expression deflated as she glanced at Rick, who had been sitting silently by the edge of the pool. Beams of late-afternoon sunlight shimmered on the surface of the water and outlined his slumped figure with a golden glow.

  Nancy saw Brenda bite her lip uncertainly. Then the reporter rose from the chaise longue and went to sit beside Rick. She made little swirls in the water with her feet and stared down at them, as if unable to face Rick directly.

  “Rick, I really am sorry,” she said softly.

  Nancy and Ned looked at each other in surprise. Brenda actually sounded humbled!

  “I know I shouldn’t have left you in the dark the way I did. I should have told you from the beginning that the letter was a fake.” Brenda laid her hand on Rick’s arm.

  “The thing was,” she went on, “when I first met you, I didn’t want to tell you the truth because I was worried you’d tell people and then my column would be ruined. Then, when you told me about your aunt, I thought I really could help.” Her eyes flashed defiantly as she snapped her head back at Nancy. “I still think I can help—if you want me to, that is.” Brenda’s voice faltered as she added, “I guess the real reason I didn’t tell you is because I knew you’d be upset. I was afraid you’d think I was a terrible person.”

  “What does it matter to you what I think?” Rick asked her.

  Brenda was obviously on the verge of tears. “It matters. I—I really think you’re terrific, Rick. I know you probably don’t feel the same about me after what I did, but I wanted to tell you that anyway.”

  Nancy never thought she’d see Brenda acting in a sincere and sensitive manner. She must be in love!

  Rick turned to Brenda with a shy smile. “Hey, it’s okay. I wish you’d told me sooner, but I guess there’s no harm done.”

  From his deck chair Ned put in, “The question is, where do we go from here?”

  Nancy leaned forward and propped her elbows on her knees, her attention once more on the case. She quickly told the others about her visit to Mrs. Keating. “She seemed pretty scared, but what I don’t get is, if she’s afraid her husband’s going to kill her, why doesn’t she go to the police?” Turning to Rick, she asked, “What do you think? You see them every day. How do they act toward each other? What’s the atmosphere in the house?”

  “Tense,” Rick replied without hesitating. “Aunt Maggie’s been on edge in general. But I don’t know if it’s because she thinks Uncle Bill is trying to kill her or if something totally different is bothering her. Uncle Bill seems pretty jumpy, too. I asked Aunt Maggie about it, but she just said he was under a lot of pressure at work.”

  “That doesn’t mean much,” Ned commented. He cleared his throat. “Phew! I’m thirsty. Sitting out here in the sun has dried me out.”

  “I have an idea,” Brenda said, shaking the water from her feet and standing up. “Let’s go get a soda and finish this discussion in a nice, air-conditioned restaurant. I want to take my car for a spin, anyway. It’s just back from the shop, and I want to make sure it’s running okay.”

  “Let’s take my car,” Nancy said to Ned as Rick and Brenda went into the bathhouse to change. “I should probably go straight home from the restaurant if I want to be on time for dinner.” Flashing Ned a wide smile, she asked, “Want to come over? Hannah’s making homemade strawberry ice cream for dessert.”

  “I’ll be there,” Ned said enthusiastically.

  A few moments later Rick and Brenda reappeared, Brenda in a yellow minidress that showed off her tan, and Rick in shorts and a T-shirt.

  “I have to get my car out of the garage,” Brenda announced. Slipping her arm through Rick’s, she suggested, “How about riding with me, Rick?”

  “Those two are getting pretty cozy, aren’t they?” Nancy remarked in a low voice as she and Ned followed Brenda and Rick around to the three-car garage at the top of the driveway.

  “Mmm.” Ned chuckled. “I hope he knows what he’s getting into.”

  “Actually, I’m sort of glad for Brenda,” Nancy said. “She really seems to like Rick. And he’s a nice guy. It could be good for her to be around someone like him. She might learn something. You know, Brenda isn’t dumb, even if she acts it most of the time. And she’s very pretty—”

  “She sure is,” Ned put in.

  “Ned!” Nancy exclaimed, but then she saw the teasing twinkle in his brown eyes. “You’d better watch out, Nickerson,” she said, giving him a playful jab in the arm. “I almost took you seriously. Then you would have been in trouble!”

  Just then Brenda’s red sports car rolled out of the garage. “Nancy, follow me,” Brenda called through the open window.

  Nancy and Ned got in her Mustang, and Nancy pulled in behind Brenda.

  “This driveway would be great for sledding in the winter,” Ned remarked as they drove down the hill. “It’s steep, and it barely has any curves.”

  “How can you even think about winter when it’s this hot out?” Nancy said, shaking her head in amazement. When he didn’t answer, she glanced sideways and saw that Ned was peering through the windshield at Brenda’s car, a slight frown creasing his brow.

  “She’s going too fast to make the turn at the bottom,” he mumbled.

  “Brenda drives the way she talks,” Nancy replied. “Fast and—”

  Nancy’s voice broke off as Brenda’s brake lights suddenly flashed on. With a screech of tires her red car fishtailed wildly across the driveway.

  “Something’s wrong!” Nancy cried, braking. “Brenda’s car is out of control!”

  Nancy watched helplessly as the red sports car barreled out of the drive and straight across the street. Then, with a terrible crunch, it slammed headlong into a huge tree!

  Chapter

  Ten

  OH, NO!” Nancy cried. She jammed on the Mustang’s emergency brake, threw off her seat belt, and jumped out of the car. Ned’s footsteps echoed right behind her on the pavement as she raced toward Brenda’s car.

  The red sports car had thrown up a huge cloud of dust when it plowed into the dry earth around the tree. At first it was hard to see through the dense cloud.

  “Brenda! Rick!” Nancy yelled, coughing from all the dust as she and Ned reached the car.

  Ned yanked open the driver’s side door and pulled at Brenda’s safety belt. A moment later she fell out into his arms. “I couldn’t turn the wheel!” Brenda cried. “I lost control!”

  “Rick?” Nancy called, alarmed. She bent down and peered into the interior.

  Rick was in the passenger seat, still wearing his seat belt. He stared at Nancy with a dazed expression. “I’m okay,” he said. Then he managed a shaky grin. “It’s a good thing I remembered to buckle up.”

  “Boy, am I glad you did,” Nancy said fervently. She hurried around to his side and helped him out of the car. “Are you hurt at all?”

  “I don’t think so.” Rick rubbed his neck gingerly. “My head snapped back when we hit the tree, but it doesn’t feel too bad.”

  Rick’s knees were wobbly, so Nancy supported him with an arm around his waist. They went around to the driver’s side, where Brenda stood shivering, her arms crossed tightly across her chest and her dark eyes brimming with tears. “Three times in three days,” she said.

  It took Nancy a moment to make sense of what the reporter was saying. But then she realized it was true—the crash in the parking lot, the beam falling inside the mall, and now this. Could they all be accidents?

  “What happened?” Nancy asked gently.

  “I don’t know,” Brenda answered, turning to face Nancy. “I just couldn’t move the steering wheel. It felt as if there were a heavy weight on it.” The tears spilled over and ran down her cheeks. “And—and I was going too fast to stop?
??” She broke into a sob, and Rick put an arm around her shoulders.

  “The whole thing happened like that,” he said, snapping his fingers. “We didn’t even have time to react.”

  Brenda dried her eyes on the back of her hand, then looked at Ned and Nancy. “I thought the wheel felt stiff when I took the car out of the garage,” she explained. “I didn’t pay any attention to it, though. Then all of a sudden we were flying down the hill, and I couldn’t turn.” Her lip quivered again. “I hit the brakes, but we still crashed.”

  Nancy didn’t like the sound of that, but she kept quiet. No use scaring Brenda for no reason. “If you hadn’t slammed on the brakes,” she said reassuringly, “the accident would have been a lot more serious. Come on, let’s get over to my car. You two need to sit and calm down.”

  Once Brenda and Rick were seated in Nancy’s car, Nancy, keeping her voice light and casual, said, “Ned and I’ll be right back. I just want to take a look under your hood, Brenda.”

  “Okay.” Brenda was holding Rick’s hand tightly. She still looked frightened, but Nancy thought she seemed to be recovering from her scare—and that she was definitely enjoying Rick’s attention.

  As they crossed the street again, Ned asked Nancy in a low voice, “What’s going on? Do you think there’s something wrong with Brenda’s car?”

  Nancy simply shrugged. She’d had a sudden, frightening idea, but it was such a long shot she didn’t want to tell Ned about it until she checked it out.

  The red car had hit the tree hard, but fortunately Brenda hadn’t been going fast enough to do much damage. Ned managed to raise the hood without too much trouble, and they peered inside at the tangle of bolts, fans, and hoses.

  “Uh-oh,” Nancy said after a moment, frowning. Reaching down, she tapped on a white plastic container that was bolted to the car’s chassis. “Look at that, Ned.”

  “Wow!” he exclaimed, grimacing. The container looked as if someone had attacked it with a buzz saw. The plastic was ripped to shreds. Thick yellowish fluid oozed sluggishly down the sides. “That’s the steering fluid reserve,” he said.

  “You mean it used to be,” Nancy amended. “No wonder Brenda couldn’t turn the wheel,” she said grimly. “The hydraulic system that controls her power steering is completely wrecked.

  “Ned, is there any way this damage could have happened when Brenda hit the tree?” Nancy asked.

  “No way,” he told her. Ned gave a tight smile. “I’d say we’re definitely looking at a case of sabotage.”

  Nancy took a deep breath. “That’s what I was afraid of. Listen, I don’t want to say anything to Brenda until I know for sure,” she added, biting her lip. “She’s already practically hysterical about what just happened. First I want to check out the lock on her garage door and see if it’s been tampered with. If not, I suppose there’s still a chance that this happened by accident at the garage.”

  “If any garage is hiring mechanics who can shred a steering fluid unit that way by accident,” Ned retorted as they walked back to the Mustang, “then I hope I never take my car there for repairs.”

  “What were you two doing over there?” Brenda asked as soon as Nancy and Ned walked up. “Why were you looking at my engine?”

  “We just wanted to check something out,” Nancy replied evasively. “Come on, let’s go back up to your house.”

  “What were you checking out?” Brenda persisted as they all trudged back up the long hill. Her voice had regained its sharp edge. “You’d better tell me. It’s my car, after all.”

  Rick took Brenda’s hand. “I’m sure she’d let you know if there was anything to worry about.”

  Nancy was amazed by the way Brenda seemed to respond to Rick. A big smile spread across Brenda’s face, and for the rest of the way up to the Carlton house, she was silent.

  “Now what are you doing?” Brenda called when Nancy and Ned headed for the garage. She hurried after them. “You guys are being awfully mysterious.”

  Nancy was already bending down to examine the lock on the garage door. It was just as she had guessed. The edges of the metal lock plate had several shiny new scratches. Someone had taken the plate off and picked the lock.

  Nancy’s mouth was set in a grim line as she turned to Brenda and Rick. “Okay. It’s time I told you the whole story,” she said.

  “Whole story?” Rick repeated, faintly alarmed.

  Nancy nodded, then made direct eye contact with Brenda. “That ‘accident’ you had just now was no accident,” she said quietly.

  “Your steering fluid container was slashed,” Ned explained.

  Brenda’s mouth fell open.

  “Is this a joke?” Rick asked incredulously, turning from Nancy to Ned.

  “Sorry, but it’s not,” Nancy answered. She gestured at the lock on the garage door. “Someone picked this lock. I think we’re looking at a case of sabotage.”

  “Oh, no. No way,” Brenda burst out suddenly. “You’re not going to pin this one on me!”

  Nancy stared at her, mystified. “What are you—” she began.

  But Brenda wasn’t about to be interrupted. “I don’t believe you!” she cried, angrily planting her hands on her hips. “You can’t seriously think I’d stage something like this, just for the publicity. Wreck my own car? Put my life—and Rick’s—in danger? I don’t think so. Face it, Nancy. This accident was just as real as the one with the beam—” She broke off suddenly, the color draining from her face as the meaning of her own words sank in.

  “Exactly,” Nancy said. “I’m not trying to say you had anything to do with staging either accident, Brenda. But someone did.”

  “Oh,” Brenda said in a tiny voice.

  Rick gasped. “Are you saying someone really is trying to kill Brenda?” he demanded, horrified. “But why? What for?”

  Raking a hand through her hair, Nancy explained, “The accident with the beam happened the day Brenda ran that phony letter in her column. I think seeing that letter upset someone.”

  She took a deep breath before saying, “It’s only a guess, but if you ask me, all these accidents are further proof that there really is a murder scheme. Whoever’s behind it thinks Brenda knows about it, so now he or she’s trying to kill her, too!”

  Chapter

  Eleven

  OH, NO!” Brenda wailed, burying her face in her hands. “I’ve got a murderer after me!”

  Rick put his arms around Brenda and stroked her hair, but his attention was still focused on Nancy. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  Nancy nodded.

  “You think it’s my uncle.” It was a statement, not a question. “He really is trying to kill my aunt. And now he thinks Brenda knows, so he’s trying to kill her, too.” Rick’s brilliant green eyes were troubled.

  “There’s no proof that it’s your uncle,” Nancy said cautiously. “At this point, for all we know it could be someone we’ve never even heard of. But from what you’ve told me about your aunt and uncle, and from what Ned and I found out about their insurance policies, it seems reasonable to start our investigation with them.”

  Brenda raised her head and glanced nervously over her shoulder. “I feel very exposed out here,” she complained. “The murderer could be lurking right now, waiting for another chance to get me!”

  Nancy grimaced at Brenda’s overly dramatic flair, but she had to admit the reporter had a point.

  “Why don’t we go inside,” Nancy suggested. “We can discuss what to do next over some cold drinks.”

  The four trooped inside the big white house, ■ and Brenda directed the maid to bring a tray of sodas to the den.

  Unlike the rest of the house, the den had a warm, lived-in feeling. The furniture was mismatched but cozy looking, and the big desk was cluttered with papers and books. A few framed college degrees and journalism awards hung on the walls, and Nancy guessed this was where Brenda’s father, Frazier Carlton, worked.

  Ned collapsed gratefully into a deep, well-worn armchair
. “Whew, the air conditioning feels fantastic,” he said, wiping his brow. Then, looking at Nancy, he asked, “So what’s the plan?”

  “We need evidence to prove our theory,” Nancy began. She sat in another chair while Brenda and Rick plopped down on a leather couch. “There are several things we should be doing. I think—if it’s okay with everyone—that we should divide up the tasks and work in teams.”

  “Rick and I will work together,” Brenda said immediately.

  “Brenda, I’m sorry,” said Nancy. “But you can’t be on any of the teams.”

  “What?” Brenda cried. “Are you still trying to get back at me for that phony letter, Nancy?”

  “No,” Nancy said, trying not to lose her patience. “Someone has already arranged at least one, maybe two deadly ‘accidents’ for you, Brenda. We have to assume the person is going to try again. Your best protection is to stay put and not get yourself into even more danger.”

  “Nancy’s right,” Rick said to Brenda. “You are in danger. We can’t risk losing you.”

  Brenda’s eyes had been flashing angrily while Nancy spoke, but at Rick’s words she calmed down, obviously touched by his concern.

  The maid came in with their refreshments just then. After she left, Nancy went on. “Rick, you’re our inside man at the Keatings’ house,” she said. “You have two jobs. One is to keep an eye on your aunt and make sure nothing happens to her. The other is to find out what you can about your uncle. Does he have a study?”

  Rick nodded. “He does a lot of work at home.”

  “Check it out,” Nancy told him. “There may be a paper trail—you know, records or documents that prove he’s got serious money problems.”

  “Got it,” Rick said eagerly. ,

  Nancy leaned back in the chair and stretched her long legs out in front of her. “I think I’ll call Bess and George in on this, too,” she said. “They can go around to Mrs. Keating’s hairdresser and places like that and scout out some gossip on her.” She held up a hand to silence Rick, who was looking indignant. “You’d be surprised at how much people know about other people’s private concerns,” she said. “We may learn something useful.”