027 Most Likely to Die

  Pete's Place was a little coffee shop about ten minutes from the high school. It was famous for its onion rings, which were pretty much the only good thing on the menu. Nancy hadn't been there since high school—and the minute she stepped in the door, she could remember why. The place smelled as though everything in it had been dipped in a frying vat.

  Patrick was already waiting in a booth when Nancy got there. "The menu hasn't changed much," he said. "A double order of rings and two Cokes?" he asked Nancy, and after she nodded yes he told the waitress. "At least Pete's makes me realize college food isn't so bad. That's the one thing I'm not looking forward to about going back—that and the long drive. I still haven't found anyone to share the trip with me."

  "Actually," Nancy said, "it's your car I wanted to talk to you about. Or not your car, exactly, but Judd Reese."

  "What do you mean?" Patrick asked. "I've heard he does a great job. A million people have recommended that garage—" '

  "No, no, it's not the garage," Nancy interrupted. "It's just that I was talking to Judd earlier today, and he told me the brakes on your car were shot. Did he mention that to you?"

  "No." Patrick looked amazed. "How could there be any problem with them? The car's brand-new."

  "Patrick, I don't want to worry you, but I think Judd may be the guy who's behind all these robberies."

  "All what robberies? Has something else happened since the party?"

  "Has something else happened! Oh, that's right—you don't know. Sorry. Let me start from the beginning."

  Just then the waitress set down two huge platters of golden brown onion rings in front of them. "These will keep us going for a while, anyway," Patrick said as he picked up the salt shaker. "Tell me everything."

  So Nancy told him everything, and by the time she had reached the part about Celia, Patrick was looking a little sick.

  "This is too much," he said. "Whoever's behind this is one weird guy. That's all I can say. But you can't really believe it's Judd, Nancy! He's not smart enough to pull something like this."

  "Well, I might have agreed with you until I talked to him this morning." Quickly Nancy described the scene in Judd's office. "I may be worrying for nothing," she finished, "but I think you're next on his list, Patrick. Why else would he have made up that story about your car? This is the perfect chance for him to sabotage it."

  "No." Patrick spoke very firmly. "That's just not possible. I know Judd's a little different from us, but he's not a bad guy. Maybe he thought you were talking about a different car—"

  "No, yours was the only one up on the lift—"

  "Then there must be some other mistake."

  "What about the newspapers?" Nancy persisted.

  "Don't know. It sounds as though you didn't get a chance to see them up close." Nancy blushed, remembering how jittery she'd been in Judd's office. "I don't want to sound as though I'm criticizing you, Nancy, but I just don't think Judd's up to doing something like this."

  "You sound as though you have someone else in mind—someone definite," Nancy said.

  "Well, I—well, no. Not really, I mean."

  "Patrick, what's the matter? Do you know something I don't?" Nancy asked.

  "I—" Patrick looked away. "Well, I do have kind of an idea—but it wouldn't really be fair to mention it. Not without more to go on. Besides, I don't want to make things awkward for you."

  "Awkward?" Nancy repeated. "Patrick, please. If you think you know something I've missed, just tell me."

  "Well," Patrick said after a pause, "remember, I'm not at all sure about this—but I think you might want to check out Don Cameron."

  "Don Cameron!" Nancy was so startled she almost choked on an onion ring.

  Patrick looked embarrassed. "I know that it's hard for you to hear, when you used to be so close to him—"

  "No, no," Nancy interrupted. "That's not a problem. It's just that—I can hardly believe Don's the type to do something like this."

  But as she spoke, she suddenly remembered how odd Don had been acting the day before. Was it really possible that he'd turned into a different person since high school?

  Patrick was looking steadily at her. "I know it's hard to believe," he said. "It was hard for me, too. Don was a pretty good friend of mine in school, you know. But look at the facts, Nancy. He's been on the scene at some pretty strange times, hasn't he? You said he was nearby when you discovered the hornets in Ned's car. And I saw him talking to you yesterday—wasn't that just before you found out that Monica's house had been robbed? I wish that it didn't all point to him, but I can't figure things out any other way."

  "It still seems impossible," Nancy said slowly. But even as she spoke the words she was realizing that Patrick might be right. She pushed away her plate and leaned her cheek on her hand. "But if it's true—"

  "It's got to be true, Nancy." Patrick's voice was suddenly tense. "Look behind you."

  Nancy whirled around, but all she saw was a bored-looking waitress cleaning the booth behind them.

  "No. Outside. Beside your car."

  Nancy followed his gaze—and gasped. Don was standing right next to her Mustang. And as she watched, he opened the door and climbed inside!

  Chapter Ten

  For a second Nancy sat absolutely still.

  I can't go out, she thought. I just don't want to confront him. It'll be so embarrassing!

  It had been hard enough trying to make Don see that she wasn't interested in him. But treating him like a suspect now? That was impossibly mean—and impossibly awkward.

  Still, she'd have to do it sometime. She might as well get it over with now. Slowly Nancy stood up.

  "Want me to come with you in case he tries anything?" Patrick asked quietly.

  "No. No thanks, I mean. He won't try anything. I have to clear this up myself. Oh, the check—"

  "No, no. I'll take care of the tab," Patrick said.

  "Thanks." Nancy just managed a smile, then headed out the door.

  She'd parked the Mustang across the street. Now the door on the driver's side was open, and Don was sitting inside scribbling something on a piece of paper.

  Another note! At first Nancy's heart leaped, but then she reminded herself that that didn't prove anything. The other notes weren't handwritten.

  In the few seconds it took to walk out of the restaurant's door, Nancy had decided to act as unsuspecting as possible. "Hi, Don!" she called out in a cheerful voice. "What can I do for you?"

  "Nancy! Uh, hi! I—"

  Hastily Don scrambled out of her car. "I—I didn't expect you back so soon." Nervously he pushed his hair out of his eyes. "I mean— I don't mean it that way. That is—I was just writing you a note. Here it is." He held the piece of paper out to her without appearing to notice that he'd already crumpled it up. Then he pulled his hand back and stuffed the note into the front pocket of his jeans. "On second thought, let me just tell you what it says. You wouldn't be able to read my writing."

  Nancy was longing to tell him to relax, but she kept quiet. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Patrick walking out of the restaurant. He stopped for a second, but Don didn't notice him, and Patrick walked slowly away.

  "Look, I know I made a fool of myself yesterday," Don said rapidly. "I kept waking up in the night and remembering how stupid I must have sounded."

  "You didn't sound stupid, Don," Nancy said. "Just a little—well, a little like someone who didn't believe what he was hearing." '

  "I believed it. Believe me, I believed it," Don answered glumly. "But, Nancy, I'm going to have to make a fool of myself again. I can't help it. Would you please at least consider going out with me just one more time? Just to—well, just so we could talk? I promise I'll never ask again."

  Oh, no, Nancy thought. What should I do?

  If she agreed to go out with Don, she risked going out on a date with a guy who might be crazy. A guy who might have spent the last few days on a weird spree of revenge and who might think he had great reasons for wa
nting revenge on Nancy, too.

  On the other hand, a date with Don might be the perfect way to find out whether he was guilty or not. It might be the only way, in fact.

  "I guess it wasn't such a great idea," she heard Don say. His face was getting redder and redder,

  and Nancy realized she'd been standing silent for a long time. She hoped her indecision hadn't been too obvious, because she'd made up her mind what her answer should be.

  "I'd be happy to spend some time with you," she said. But not for the reason you think, she added to herself. "How about tonight?"

  "You mean you'd really like to? Well, where shall we go?" Don asked. "There's a great restaurant at the top of the Hargreave Building. Very private. They seat you in these little curtained banquettes—"

  No way! Nancy thought. A nice private evening with Don was the last thing she wanted. She needed a place where they could talk easily and where Nancy could be sure she was safe.

  "I know!" Nancy said. "Remember how much we used to love Rosedale Park?" Rosedale was an amusement park about half an hour out of River Heights. Nancy had been there with Don when they'd first started dating. "Why don't we go there?"

  Don looked startled. "Rosedale! What do you mean, we used to love it? We only went there once."

  "But I've never forgotten what fun it was," Nancy said quickly. "Really, Don, I can't think of a place I'd like better."

  "Well, if you're sure—" Don said in a disap-I pointed voice.

  "Oh, I think it sounds perfect," Nancy answered. "And, look, why don't I drive?" If Don was guilty, she wanted to be the one in the driver's seat.

  "But there's no reason— Oh, well, I might as well not push my luck," said Don. "But don't bother picking me up. My little brother's going to a night soccer game, and he can drop me off at your place. What time's good for you?"

  "I'll be ready at seven-thirty," said Nancy. Ready to see exactly what you're up to, she added to herself.

  Seven-fifteen. Nancy was in her room studying herself in the mirror and biting her lip.

  For once she was glad her father and Hannah were out of town. It would have been hard to explain why she was seeing Don again.

  She'd been trying to get in touch with Ned all afternoon to explain what she was doing. But there had been no answer. Nancy hated to leave without filling Ned in, but it didn't look as though she had a choice.

  Well, she'd have to worry about that later. Now she was wondering what she should wear. She didn't want to look as if she'd dressed up for Don, but she didn't want to offend him by looking like a slob, either. She'd finally settled on| a denim miniskirt and an oversize lilac T-shirt.

  But now she decided that maybe she'd better change into something less sporty. Just as Nancy was walking toward her closet, though, the doorbell rang. She ran down to answer it.

  "Don, you're ten minutes early—" she started to say as she opened the door. But it wasn't Don.

  It was Ned.

  "I guess you weren't expecting me," he said dryly.

  "Ned! Oh, no!" Nancy blurted out before she could stop herself. "No, I wasn't expecting you," she said more calmly. "Something's come up— something connected with the case. I've got to go out with—"

  The doorbell rang again. "Nancy?" Don called.

  Ned was staring at Nancy. "You're going out with Don?" he asked.

  "Yes, but—"

  "Well, that's just great." Ned was pale with anger. Nancy longed to tell him that this was nothing more than a chance to investigate a potential suspect, but it was too late. No matter how upset Ned was, he'd have to wait for the explanation.

  "Nancy? Are you there?" Don called.

  Ned yanked the front door open. "Yes, she's here," he said grimly. "Have fun, you two." He strode back to his car. With a screech of tires, he backed out of the driveway and roared up the street.

  Don was staring at Nancy. "I, uh—I guess I came at a bad time," he said.

  "Forget it," Nancy said bleakly. "Let's go."

  "Timmy! You get over here right now!" squalled a woman.

  "Oops! Sorry, miss," said Timmy, who had just crashed into Nancy while running back to his mom.

  "That's okay," Nancy said, watching him dash off. She looked down and sighed. When Timmy had bumped into her, he had smashed his icecream cone into her knee.

  As a setting for investigating Don, Rosedale Park wasn't working out. It was true that there was no danger of Nancy's being stuck alone with him. But it was equally true that it was almost impossible to talk to him at all—at least not on the rides they'd already taken. Only the Ferris wheel had offered a chance for conversation. But the minute they'd gotten aloft, the kids in the car above theirs had started screaming, so Nancy and Don couldn't hear each other.

  Don was starting to look more and more glum. Nancy couldn't help feeling a little remorse for having led him on. He still thought they were on a date, and he probably thought it was his fault they weren't having any fun.

  It was time to put an end to all this. But just as Nancy was about to suggest that they go home, Don suddenly said, "Look! I remember the last time we rode on that. Let's give it another try. At least it'll be quiet in there."

  He was pointing to the Tunnel of Love, whose sign blared, 'Take a fun-filled trip into the heart of romance!" A line of expectant-looking couples was just beginning to take seats in the boat. "Let's get on before the boat fills up!" Don said.

  It wasn't the perfect setting for the questions Nancy wanted to ask Don, but at least the tunnel wouldn't be filled with shrieking kids. "Okay. Let's go."

  Before they climbed into the boat, Nancy looked down at the water in the tunnel—and shuddered. It was green and slimy, and cigarette butts were floating in it. Boy, I'll go to any length to solve a case, she thought to herself.

  In silence she and Don climbed into the shabby boat, and in silence they rode it into the dark tunnel. "Eric, I'm scared!" the girl in front of them said as she snuggled into her boyfriend's arms.

  Uh-oh, Nancy thought. She could tell by the meaningful way Don cleared his throat that he was about to get serious.

  She was right. "Uh, Nancy, I've been wanting to say this all evening—" Don began.

  Nancy couldn't stand to let him get any further. She started talking before he could say another word.

  "Don, there's something I've been wanting to say all evening, too. I don't know if you've heard, but Wendy and Monica were both robbed the day after the party. It looks as though the burglar was the same person who broke into Wendy's beach house. Also Celia's house was booby-trapped. I think I've narrowed down my list of suspects to just a couple of people, and I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions."

  "What?"

  The boat lurched as he violently jerked around to face her.

  "Hey, cut it out!" the girl in front of them protested.

  Don didn't seem to notice. "What's going on here?" he hissed. "Is this all a setup? Is that the kind of person you think I am? Well, let me tell you something—"

  In the dim light his face looked ghastly—white and almost wraithlike. Alarmed, Nancy just stared back at him.

  He can't do anything, she thought. There are people all around us—

  Then Don abruptly moved toward her. Suddenly Nancy was sure he was going to attack.

  "I'll show you what kind of person I am!" Don growled.

  Nancy jumped to her feet. "Get away from me!" she cried. "No, wait! Nancy! I didn't mean—" Don jumped up, too. The boat lurched again, and Nancy pitched over the side into the cold, dirty water.

  Chapter Eleven

  Nancy hit the water face first and went under. She gasped in shock—and inhaled a mouthful of slimy water. Coughing and choking, she struggled to get herself upright and expel the water.

  "Stop the boat!" Don yelled frantically.

  "Hey! Man overboard! I mean, girl overboard!" bellowed a guy with a big laugh. "Throw her a life jacket or something!"

  But the boat kept moving through the tunnel.
"I'm coming, Nancy!" Don called.

  Just as Nancy had gotten to her feet, Don jumped into the water beside her.

  "Ow!" he yelped in surprise. "I thought it was deeper than this."

  Nancy was still trying to catch her breath. She pushed her streaming hair out of her face. "It can't be any deeper than five feet or so," she gasped, coughing again. "But this water is filthy. I hope we don't get sick."

  "Nancy, I'm so sorry," Don said. "I didn't mean to scare you. I was just so mad when I realized what you were thinking—but really, you've got to believe me. I'm not the guy you're looking for." He sighed. "In more ways than one, I guess."

  "Lovers overboard!" bellowed the guy on the boat before Nancy could answer. "Drowned in the name of loooooove!" His laughter died away as the boat rounded a corner and vanished from sight.

  Nancy and Don were left staring at each other in the dim light. "I'm sorry, too, Don," Nancy said. "I shouldn't have panicked. I knew you weren't the kind of guy to do something like this. I guess I just didn't trust my own feelings."

  It was true. She'd realized the minute she hit the water that she was being silly.

  "Let's talk about it later, though," Nancy continued. "We'd better get out of here before the next boat comes along."

  They turned toward the exit and began wading through the water.

  "Boy, are we going to mess up your car," Don said as they slogged their way out.

  "Oh, well. It's seen worse." She couldn't remember when, though.

  After a couple of minutes they reached the exit. Unfortunately, there was no way they could get out of the water inconspicuously. About twenty grinning faces were waiting for them to arrive, and when they finally did appear everyone burst into hoots and applause.

  Everyone except the guy who was in charge of the ride. "What do you dumb kids think this is, the beach?" he yelled when they'd pulled themselves out of the water. "You're not supposed to swim in there! I could get in a lot of trouble for this!"

  "It was my fault," Don said quickly. "She didn't have anything to do with it. There was just a little—misunderstanding."