Sisters in Crime

by Carolyn Keene

  “Thanks,” he mumbled, and immediately turned away from Nancy and pushed Lori toward the dining room.

  “Ah, young love,” Peter quipped. “Today’s the day for it.”

  “Hello, Peter,” came a familiar voice behind Nancy. Without turning around, she identified it as Fran Kelly’s. “I didn’t see you in class last night.”

  “Which class is that?” Peter asked.

  Nancy could tell that Fran was hurt and embarrassed as she answered, “Astronomy. I’m in your lab section.” Fran had her hair tied back in a bright red ribbon. She glanced sideways at Nancy as she spoke to Peter. “Last night we used the large telescope at the observatory.”

  “Oh, no! Was that last night?” Peter asked, putting a hand up to his forehead. “I totally forgot about it. I wonder if I can take a makeup for it.”

  “Excuse me,” Nancy said, and left Fran and Peter.

  “I like your hair like that,” Kathy said as she met Nancy at the punch bowl.

  “Thanks,” Nancy said, pouring herself a cup of the bright red punch.

  “But your hair looks great no matter what you do to it,” Kathy added, tossing her own frizzy curls. “Are you sighing over any of these Zeta Psis?” she asked Nancy.

  Nancy shook her head and sipped the punch.

  “That one”—Kathy pointed to a tall guy in a fraternity sweatshirt—“is in my calculus class. If I wanted him to be eternally grateful to me, I could share a little secret with him,” she said coyly.

  Nancy looked down into her punch cup. Although she disapproved of the cheating, she was not comfortable with having set up Kathy and the other girls to fail. She wondered if there was a way to undo her actions before she was caught on Monday.

  “Would you feel right telling it out of the sorority house?” Nancy asked Kathy as she considered how to handle the problem.

  “I never have before,” Kathy confessed. “But I never had such an appealing reason.” Turning to Nancy, she said, “Don’t worry, nobody will ever know who my connection was.” And Kathy headed over to the guy as Nancy watched.

  The dance floor was crowded as people paired off. It looked as though everyone had shown up.

  After drinking a cup of juice, Nancy went down the back stairway and headed to the study hall. There, on a Friday evening, with the sound of a loud band and a hundred people dancing overhead, sat Alice Clark, a book open in front of her.

  “Hello, Nancy,” she said as if she had been waiting for Nancy to appear.

  “Hello,” Nancy answered, walking over to Alice and looking down at the book she was studying. “English grammar?” Nancy asked.

  “Linguistics,” Alice said in her one-word style.

  Rather than ask more questions, Nancy sat down across the table from Alice and waited to see if she was going to volunteer more.

  “Interesting,” Alice said, still looking at her book, “how many different ways there are of communicating.”

  Nancy nodded. It was her turn to be quiet and let Alice speak at her own pace.

  “For example, one can start a seemingly irrelevant topic,” Alice said, fingering the pages of her book, “and still communicate a specific message different from what one is discussing.” Still silent, Nancy listened as Alice added, “The purpose of which is to keep the speaker safe.”

  The pressure points in her physiology text, Nancy thought. It was a message to me. It was a piece of information Alice was giving me for a reason.

  “And after the message is communicated?” Nancy asked Alice.

  Alice said, “Then the speaker and the listener should make no further contact if they want to remain safe.”

  Nancy stood up and walked out of the basement study hall.

  • • •

  As Nancy reentered the packed dining room, Susan walked up to her. “I was looking all over for you,” Susan said. “Please try to let me know if you’re going to disappear. I’m jumpy tonight.”

  “Okay,” Nancy agreed. Then she motioned for Susan to follow her into the empty kitchen. Leaning against a cupboard, she whispered, “Alice Clark knows I’m investigating this case.”

  “She told you that?” Susan asked, clearly shocked.

  “Not directly. But indirectly, and she gave me some information about how Rina was murdered. I’m convinced she did it on purpose to help me out.”

  Susan shook her head. “How did she ever discover that you were here to investigate the murder?”

  “I have no idea,” Nancy said. “And I don’t know when she figured it out, either.”

  “Alice Clark is one smart girl,” Susan said as the blaring music from the other room stopped. In a much quieter voice, Nancy said, “I’ll tell you the details later. But now I think we’ve got the how and why of this case. We just need the who.”

  “Nancy—” Susan began, looking worried. But before she could finish, the door to the kitchen swung open, and Peter stood there with a smile.

  “You did sneak in here!” he exclaimed to Nancy. “Lori told me I could find you in the kitchen.” Fiddling with the red rose he held in his hands, Peter said, “The band took a break.”

  “I heard,” Nancy said.

  “Want to see the stars with me?” Peter asked. “I’m told there’s a deck on the roof here.”

  “There is a deck,” Nancy said. “But I thought you were supposed to look at stars last night.”

  Peter laughed, stepping close to Nancy, and said in a hushed voice, “How could you leave me alone with her?”

  “Fran?”

  “She had some not so great things to say about you,” Peter said. “She’s jealous.”

  Nancy shook her head. “I don’t understand Fran Kelly,” she said.

  Peter put a hand on Nancy’s elbow and, looking over at Susan, smiled and said, “Excuse us, please. I want to show your cousin the universe.”

  As they headed to the rooftop deck, Nancy was relieved to see other people on their way up there. In the twilight she looked out over San Diego. “No stars yet,” she said to Peter.

  “Fine with me,” Peter said, standing close to Nancy and looking at her rather than the sky. Across the deck, another couple were embracing.

  For a moment Nancy looked at Peter and thought how good a hug would feel. But it wasn’t Peter she wanted to hold her and she knew it.

  “You’re so lovely,” Peter said and gently laid his hand on hers. “Lori was right.”

  Looking down at the hand that rested on her own, Nancy felt her heart stop. She would recognize it anywhere, even in the darkness. A large ring with a ruby red stone, and the Greek letters, Sigma Kappa.

  Chapter

  Fifteen

  HER PULSE RACING, Nancy pulled her hand out from under Peter’s. This guy is dangerous, she thought, glancing at the shaky white wooden railing. Strong and dangerous, and he tried to hurt me once before.

  “How about I get us some punch, and we’ll meet in my room?” Nancy asked, knowing she’d need help to take on Peter. Help from both Susan and Ira.

  “I’d love it.” Peter smiled.

  “It’s on the second floor, right across from the shower room. It says ‘Susan Victor’ on the door.”

  “Great,” Peter said. “I’ll be there, waiting.”

  I’ll bet, Nancy thought. She raced down the stairs to find Susan. After looking around for a moment, Nancy found Susan and Ira on the crowded dance floor. Acting as though she was there to party, Nancy approached her friends and began to dance with them.

  “Meet me in five minutes,” Nancy mouthed quietly, trying to be understood but not overheard. “Upstairs in your room.” Above the sound of the music, Susan asked, “What’s up?”

  “I’ve got someone up there, and I might need protection,” Nancy explained. “Five minutes,” she repeated. “But don’t come in right away. Just be there if I need you—please,” Nancy said as she headed for the punch bowl.

  Lori greeted her there, with a smile. “You and Peter are hitting it off, I see,” she
said happily.

  “He is cute, I have to admit,” Nancy said as she poured two cups of the sweet punch. “How did you know we’d like each other?”

  “I just knew it,” Lori said, and Nancy excused herself.

  Upstairs, Peter stood with both hands in his pockets looking at the underwater photographs that had been taken by Rina. Swinging around as he heard Nancy approach, he accepted one of the glasses from her.

  “How come the most interesting girl in the sorority is only here for a week?” he asked flirtatiously.

  “Well, at least we met,” Nancy said warmly, and closed the door behind her, being careful not to lock it.

  “And how come I’m so lucky,” Peter asked, taking the glass from her hand and placing it on the desk next to his, “to be able to have an evening with her?”

  Hearing footsteps outside the door, Nancy knew that Susan and Ira were there already. She felt much safer.

  Safe enough to say, “That’s a lot of questions. Let me ask you one, too, okay?”

  “Whatever you like, good-looking.”

  “How come a Zeta Psi wears a Sigma Kappa ring?” Nancy asked curiously.

  “Sentimental reasons,” Peter said, fingering the ruby-red stone. “My uncle Joe gave it to me. Anything else you want to know about me?” Peter asked, opening his arms toward Nancy.

  “There is one more thing,” Nancy said sweetly. “Do you always beat up your potential dates before you get to know them?”

  “What?” Peter asked, his eyebrows raised, a slight smile on his face as though Nancy had told him a joke. “Beat up who?”

  “Me, for one,” Nancy said, and now there was no sweetness in her voice, just harshness.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Peter said incredulously, his arms dropping to his sides. “I never saw you before an hour ago.”

  “I have evidence, Peter, so you may as well forget the lies,” Nancy claimed, resting one hand on her hip. “And, I have a deal to offer you. I won’t report you to the police if you tell me what that business on the beach was about.”

  “You’re a little crazy, lady,” Peter said with a forced smile, “if you think that I ever beat you up. What ‘evidence’?” he asked sarcastically.

  “The ring, Peter,” Nancy said, looking at him directly. “Uncle Joe’s Sigma Kappa ring.”

  Peter’s strong hand swung out and grabbed Nancy’s arm. Then she called out “NOW!” and Ira and Susan flung open the door to the room.

  Peter instantly dropped his grip on Nancy’s arm and jumped back.

  “My friends,” Nancy said, standing up straight. “They also know that it was you who gave me a swollen face.”

  “I think we ought to call the police, Nancy,” Susan said, walking to the wall phone.

  “Stop her!” Peter yelled to Ira.

  As Susan froze, Peter barked, “What do you want to know, Nancy Drew?”

  “I want to know why you did it,” Nancy demanded.

  “I don’t know why,” Peter said, glaring at the three of them. “And that’s the truth.”

  “What do you mean,” Ira asked angrily, “that you don’t know why?”

  “I mean,” Peter answered, “that I was doing a favor for a friend. I owed him one. But why he wanted me to stage an attack on Nancy and Lori I have no idea.” Hesitating, Peter added, “And I didn’t ask.”

  “Who’s the friend?” Nancy asked.

  Peter silently looked down. Nancy knew that he didn’t want to squeal. She casually motioned to Susan to pick up the phone.

  “No!” Peter yelled, putting out a hand to stop Susan. “It’s Mike.”

  “Lori’s boyfriend?” Nancy asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “He wanted me and Lori beaten up?” Nancy asked, surprised.

  “Nice relationship they must have,” Ira said.

  Peter turned to Ira and explained, “I was supposed to scare Nancy, not hurt her, and Mike said he’d do the same to Lori. I thought it was a joke between them or something—I don’t know. But then Mike let Lori go and slugged Nancy.” Looking at Nancy, Peter claimed, “It wasn’t my fault.”

  It looked to Nancy as though she was going to have to hold Ira back to prevent him from slugging Peter. “Not your fault?” he mimicked, his hands balled into fists.

  “Listen now,” Nancy said coldly. “If I find out that Lori or Mike has heard about our conversation, I will call the police, and I will press charges against you.”

  As Peter began to walk out of the room, Nancy had one more question for him. “How are you at darts?” she asked.

  “Darts? You mean throwing darts?”

  Nancy nodded.

  Peter shrugged his shoulders.

  “And your buddy, Mike, how is he?”

  “I’m finished with your questions,” Peter snapped, and slammed the door behind himself.

  “Now what?” Susan asked Nancy as the three of them stood looking at one another.

  Ira asked, “You think this Peter had something to do with Rina Charles’s death?”

  “It’s possible,” Nancy answered.

  “And you’re a cop, right?” Ira asked.

  “A detective,” Nancy answered. “But how,” she wondered out loud, “did someone figure that out on my first day here? And what does Lori’s boyfriend have to do with it all?”

  “And what do we do now?” Susan asked.

  “We go downstairs and party,” Nancy said. “And we keep an eye on Mike and Lori. I think it’s their move next. We also have to let our friend Peter know that we’re watching him.”

  “I can’t believe that guy,” Ira said. “Not his fault—can you imagine? Attacking someone on the beach and claiming it’s not your fault!”

  Downstairs, people looked as if they were having a good time. There was a lot of loud laughter, singing, and wild dancing.

  Nancy saw that many of the girls wore red roses in their hair. The food table had only a few pieces of the heart-shaped pizza left on it, and the band played very loud. All signs of a good party, Nancy thought.

  Ira and Susan were also looking around, and the three each headed in a different direction to search for Lori, Mike, and Peter.

  But a thorough search of the first floor and outside porch didn’t turn up any of them.

  “That was quick,” Ira said to the girls as they met at the punch bowl.

  Nancy nodded. “They’re not around anywhere. They’ve either left the house or they’re up in Lori’s room.”

  “So now what?” Susan asked, grabbing a handful of salted nuts.

  Just as Nancy was about to answer, she felt something wet drip down her back. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Nancy!” Pam said, and grabbed a napkin to dry Nancy off. The sticky red punch was all over the back of Nancy’s hair and dress.

  Nancy stopped Pam’s attempt to make it better. “It’s okay,” she said. “Don’t worry about it.”

  Turning back to Susan and Ira, Nancy said, “Why don’t you two dance and keep this floor covered. I want to go upstairs and change clothes.” Nancy put her hand on the back of her soaking hair. “And dry off. Something tells me that this is going to be a long night.”

  “Where shall we meet?” Susan asked.

  Nancy thought a moment. “Front porch, fifteen minutes,” she answered.

  As Nancy entered her room, she glanced at the phone hanging on the wall. It would feel so good to talk to Ned, she thought.

  No time now, though, Nancy thought, and kicked off her flats, unbuttoned her dress, and dried the back of her hair with a towel. She took a pair of jeans, a jersey, and her running shoes out of the closet.

  As she dressed, Nancy sorted through the facts. Mike may have sent Peter to scare me, but, Nancy wondered, who sent Mike? Was it Lori? But why, then, would Lori have gotten attacked, too?

  Tying her shoes, Nancy was aware that the music had changed from a fast rock ’n’ roll beat to a slow, more romantic one. She looked at her watch. Five minutes before I have to meet Susan and
Ira, she thought, and picked up the phone.

  As Nancy listened to the ringing of the phone at Ned’s house, there was a loud banging at her door.

  “So you’re the new interim treasurer, are you, Nancy Drew?” came a sing song voice as Nancy replaced the phone on its hook.

  “I know you’re in there,” the voice continued. “Well, all your phony lying can come to an end right now!”

  Chapter

  Sixteen

  NANCY TOOK A breath, flung the door open, and found herself face-to-face with Fran Kelly. Holding a note in her hand, Fran glared at Nancy. “You’ve got some questions to answer,” she said, then added with a smirk, “I’ve blown your cover, and finally Lori believes me!”

  Fran’s face was turning progressively redder. “You thought we would never know that you went to the accountant’s office, didn’t you? I guess you could have never known that Mrs. Haft would tell my mother that some ‘nice girl’ from Delta Phi came to look at the records. ‘Nice girl,’ ha!”

  Nancy cautiously watched as Fran became lost in her rage.

  “And did you really think we wouldn’t figure out who you were? Did you honestly think,” Fran spit out, “that we would never know that you went to the accountant’s office and altered our records? Well, Lori Westerly is not stupid, Nancy Drew.” Handing Nancy the note in her hand, Fran said, “But I’m starting to think that you are.”

  In a clear, calm voice, Nancy said, “You’ve got it all wrong, Fran. And I think you know that.”

  “I know that Lori finally believes me. I know that she finally trusts me and wants to hear from me.” Fran looked at Nancy. “It’s funny,” she said, her head cocked, her hair and red ribbon hanging over one shoulder. “It seems you may have been my ticket of admission to get in with the right crowd.

  Looking at the insecure girl, Nancy realized that Fran Kelly, like Rina, would do anything to get in with Lori Westerly.

  It’s time to go to the source, Nancy thought, as she opened the note in her hand.

  Now is the time to talk.

  I’m waiting for you in my room.

  L.W.