Regina's Legacy (Sweet Valley High Book 73)

by Francine Pascal

  "You mean to tell Liz about stealing Chad," Lila corrected her.

  "I didn't steal him," Jessica protested. "Liz had her chance on the beach the other day. You know her. She's so devoted to Todd, she doesn't even look at other guys."

  "Obviously she looked at Chad. She took his picture!" Lila said, taking a mirror from her purse and checking her nose for sunburn.

  Jessica dropped Lila off at Fowler Crest. Usually, the enormous Spanish-style mansion with its fountain and sculptured grounds, one of the most opulent residences in Sweet Valley, caused Jessica a pang or two of envy. But that day Jessica wouldn't have traded places with Lila for the world. Lila wasn't the one who would be getting a call from Chad!

  Jessica coasted up the driveway of her family's split-level house and killed the engine. When she got inside, she sprinted up the stairs.

  "Liz, are you up here?" she yelled. Jessica barged into her twin's room without bothering to knock.

  Elizabeth was wearing a terry-cloth bathrobe and holding a new bottle of shampoo. The shower was already running in the bathroom that connected the twins' bedrooms. "Hi, Jess," Elizabeth said as she stepped into the bathroom.

  "I have the wildest story to tell you!" Jessica announced. "You'll never believe what happened on the way to the beach. Lila and I were just driving along, minding our own business, when—"

  Elizabeth shook her head and started to close the bathroom door between them. "I have to jump in the shower. I'm going over to Todd's for dinner, and I'm already running late."

  "I'll make it quick," Jessica promised. "So, there we were, just driving along, when I noticed this car was following us. And, Liz, you'll never guess who—"

  "I'll guess later!" Elizabeth said as she shut the bathroom door behind her.

  "Dinner at Todd's, big deal," Jessica mumbled to herself as she headed down the hall. As usual, her own bedroom was quite a contrast to Elizabeth's. Everything was always in its proper place in Elizabeth's bright, neat room. Jessica's, on the other hand, was a cross between the bargain basement of a department store and a mud-wrestling pit. Jessica had painted the walls chocolate brown, which was where the mudpit effect came from. The bargain-basement look resulted from the fact that nearly every item of Jessica's fairly extensive wardrobe was scattered about the room, draped over furniture or just piled on the floor.

  Elizabeth wouldn't be out of the shower for at least fifteen minutes, and Jessica had to relate her latest romantic adventure to someone or she would burst. She decided to call her friend Amy Sutton. At least Amy would appreciate the Chad story.

  Amy appreciated the Chad story so much that Jessica called Cara Walker, her older brother Steven's girlfriend and one of her own closest friends, and shared it with her, too. After determining that Cara was suitably impressed, Jessica hung up the phone and bounced into the hall. Perfect timing. Her sister had just emerged from her bedroom.

  Elizabeth was wearing a deep pink sleeveless dress and a strand of pearls. "You look great, Liz. I guess dinner at Todd's is a little fancier now."

  "Um-hum," said Elizabeth, hurrying down the stairs, barely listening to her sister.

  A car honked in the driveway. Todd's BMW, Jessica guessed. She chased after her sister, who was already opening the front door. "So, like I was saying. The guy in the car turned out to be cute, and I mean cute. His name's Chad, and the whole reason he was following us was because—"

  "I should have known this was about a new boy! It always is. I just don't have time to hear about it right now, OK? Tell me tomorrow."

  Standing at the door, Jessica crossed her arms and watched her twin hurry down the walk. "Just forget it!" she shouted after Elizabeth. "So what if it's because of you that I met Chad in the first place."

  But Elizabeth couldn't hear her; the BMW was already rolling out of the driveway.

  So what if it was the absolute best coincidence of all time, Jessica thought, wandering into the kitchen to decide on a menu for supper. So what if Chad was probably going to turn out to be the man of Jessica's dreams! If Elizabeth didn't have time to listen, well, Jessica would just keep Chad all to herself.

  It would serve Elizabeth right, anyway, Jessica decided as she checked out the contents of the refrigerator. Her sister was Little Miss Secrets these days, making such a fuss about the photography club's activities. Now Jessica had her own secret. From now on, if Elizabeth wanted to know what was new in Jessica's life, she would just have to guess.

  "That was delicious," Elizabeth raved as she swallowed the last bite of key lime pie.

  "It was, wasn't it?" agreed Mrs. Wilkins. "Having a dinner guest is a good excuse to indulge in a sinful dessert."

  "Thanks for going to the trouble."

  "You're never any trouble," Mrs. Wilkins assured her. "You know we consider you family, not company."

  Under the table, Todd touched Elizabeth's foot with his. She smiled at him. His family's life-style had changed since Mr. Wilkins's big promotion, but the Wilkinses themselves hadn't. They were still warm, wonderful people. At first, Elizabeth had found the big mansion and formal dining room somewhat intimidating, but now she was just as at home there as she had been in their old house.

  Elizabeth helped clear the table. Then she poured out two glasses of iced tea, and she and Todd made themselves comfortable on the recroom sofa. Using the remote control, Todd flicked on the big-screen TV.

  "Time for the news." Todd put his arm around Elizabeth. "And now for tonight's top story." Todd lowered his voice in imitation of an anchorman. "What is the secret project the Sweet Valley High photography club has been working on, night and day? Will Elizabeth Wakefield give in to irresistible pressure from her boyfriend and reveal all?"

  Elizabeth giggled. "Never! I'll guard the secret with my life."

  "You forget that I know your weakness." Todd started to tickle Elizabeth.

  "Todd! Stop! Unless you want to be responsible for spilling iced tea on this new leather couch!"

  "OK, you win," he conceded. "As always. And here's the top story for real."

  Elizabeth looked from Todd to the TV screen. "And now from Washington," the newscaster said. "There has been an unexpected development in the major drug inquiry underway in the Senate. When hearings resumed today, one of the chief witnesses took everyone by surprise by recanting his previous testimony and offering a very different story."

  "I heard about this on the radio earlier," Todd told Elizabeth. "Supposedly this guy was going to testify against some major drug dealers."

  The newscaster continued. "Ron Hunter was expected to name participants in what is believed to be the most widespread drug operation in the U.S. In today's session, however, Hunter categorically denied having been involved in any illegal activities. His latest testimony casts doubt upon the very existence of the drug ring."

  A picture of a man flanked by two security guards flashed on the screen. The man in the middle . . . Elizabeth gasped, surprise stealing her breath away. "Todd!" she cried. "It's him!"

  "Who?"

  "The man at the beach. My photograph. The man in the middle!"

  Todd stared at Elizabeth, then at the TV. An instant later, the picture of Ron Hunter was replaced by one relating to another news item.

  "You mean the picture of the three men running?"

  Elizabeth was fumbling through her purse. "Ron Hunter! He looks just like him. Here!" She handed the photograph to Todd. "See for yourself!"

  Todd studied the print. "I didn't get a very close look at the guy on the TV," he said, "but, yeah, I agree. There's a resemblance between the guy in the middle of your photograph and Ron Hunter."

  "A strong resemblance," Elizabeth declared. "Maybe that was Ron Hunter I saw on the beach!"

  "It couldn't have been," Todd pointed out. "You took the picture two days ago. This guy Hunter's been in Washington all week testifying."

  "You're right," Elizabeth said. "But still—"

  "You know what I think," Todd continued. "The picture of Hunte
r in Washington reminded you of this one because Ron Hunter was also standing between two men."

  "It wasn't just the pose," Elizabeth insisted. "Maybe you didn't get a close look at Ron Hunter, but I did." She sighed. There wasn't any point in arguing about it with Todd. It wasn't just what Elizabeth had seen on the TV; it was that feeling again.

  "Something doesn't add up," she said quietly. "Or rather, something adds up, but it adds up all wrong!"

  "What do you mean?"

  "Why did the bald man try to take my camera away? Todd, he might have hurt me. If Prince Albert hadn't growled at him, if my car hadn't been parked nearby . . ." Elizabeth's heart pounded with remembered fear. "I saw something I wasn't supposed to see, and I had the evidence of it on film. Maybe what I wasn't supposed to see was the resemblance between the guy in the middle and Ron Hunter in Washington!"

  Todd shook his head in disbelief. "I know what happened to you on the beach really got to you, Liz. It was a pretty strange incident, I'll grant you that. But connecting it to the drug investigation in the Senate? You kind of lose me there. You have to admit it's a little farfetched."

  "I know it sounds crazy." Elizabeth felt frustrated. How could she explain this feeling that didn't have anything to do with logic? "Something tells me there is a link between the picture I took and what's going on in Washington. We've got to find those three men again. It could be important."

  Todd ran a hand through his dark hair. "If there's a link, it would be important all right," he agreed. "But that's a big 'if.' "

  "You have to believe me." Elizabeth gazed earnestly into Todd's eyes.

  Todd bent down and brushed Elizabeth's lips with a kiss. "I do believe you. I always believe you," he assured her. "I'll help. We'll look into this together. But where do we start? How are we going to find the men from the beach, and what will we do if we find them?"

  Elizabeth gave Todd a hug. "I knew I could count on you!" she exclaimed. "As for where we start, I guess we have to start with the photograph. It's all we have."

  Todd and Elizabeth huddled over the photograph and examined it intently. "I feel like Sherlock Holmes and Watson." Todd laughed. "Maybe I should have a pipe and a big magnifying glass."

  "A magnifying glass would come in handy. Look at this." Elizabeth tapped the photograph, indicating the young blond man on the left. "He's wearing a T-shirt with some kind of lettering on it. It could be a clue! Can you tell what it says?"

  Todd held the photograph close to his eyes. "I can't make it out."

  Elizabeth squinted, but she couldn't read the lettering on the T-shirt, either. "Maybe if we enlarged the picture we could read it!"

  "A definite possibility," Todd conceded.

  "We can do it in the darkroom tomorrow after school!"

  Todd placed the photograph on the coffee table and wrapped his arms around Elizabeth. "You're really going to allow me into that sacred place?" he teased.

  "I need your expert assistance, Dr. Watson. You just have to promise you'll confine your snooping to reading the mystery man's T-shirt."

  "Whatever you say, Sherlock!"

  Six

  "You don't mind if I take the car to Amy's after cheerleading practice this afternoon, do you?" Jessica asked Elizabeth as they drove to school on Friday morning. "She's having a few people over for a cookout."

  "I'll catch a ride with Todd," Elizabeth replied. She was about to tell Jessica about enlarging the photo to try to read the blond guy's T-shirt, but she hesitated. It was a pretty convoluted story, and she didn't feel like explaining all about the Washington news report and her photograph of the three men on the beach to Jessica. It was still too complicated and vague. "I've got to do some work for The Oracle, and Todd has practice," Elizabeth finished lamely. She rarely lied, and she felt a little guilty.

  "Whatever," said Jessica, oblivious of her twin's discomfort. "By the way, did you have a good time at Todd's last night?"

  Elizabeth was aware that there was something odd about Jessica's tone of voice. But what? Had Jessica noticed how preoccupied Elizabeth was this morning? "It was fine," Elizabeth answered. "Mrs. Wilkins cooked a pretty elaborate dinner."

  "So it was worth getting all dressed up and flying out of the house in such a rush?"

  "I guess."

  Jessica seemed to be waiting for Elizabeth to say something else, but Elizabeth couldn't imagine what. She glanced at her twin, who was busy polishing the lenses of her sunglasses. "Why do you ask?" Elizabeth pulled into a space in the Sweet Valley High student parking lot.

  "Oh, just forget it!" Jessica grabbed her book bag, hopped out of the car, and flounced across the parking lot without waiting for Elizabeth.

  Suddenly Elizabeth remembered that the night before Jessica had tried to tell her about a cute new boy she had met. She must have hurt Jessica's feelings by not showing more interest.

  Elizabeth caught up with her twin at the front entrance to the school. "Jess, I was meaning to ask you. What's this about—"

  "Look, Liz—police!" Jessica interrupted. "I wonder what's going on?"

  Three Sweet Valley police officers stood in the main lobby, talking to a cluster of highschool administrators, including the principal, "Chrome Dome" Cooper. A group of students stood around them, chattering with excitement. Elizabeth caught the words "vandals" and "darkroom."

  She tapped the nearest person on the shoulder. "What happened?" Elizabeth asked the boy. "Why are the police here?"

  "There was a break-in last night," the boy explained. "They said that the darkroom was the only part of the school that was vandalized, but supposedly it's pretty trashed."

  Jessica saw Lila and Amy on the other side of the lobby and ran over to talk to them, while Elizabeth wandered in the direction of her homeroom. Someone had vandalized the darkroom. Who? And why?

  For Elizabeth, the day passed in a blur. With every hour, she grew more and more distracted. Had any harm come to the club's pictures for the photo essay? The instant the final bell rang, she raced through the crowded halls toward the darkroom. She was anxious to see for herself what had happened. At lunch, the darkroom had been off limits while the police conducted their investigation.

  When she reached the photography-club room, Elizabeth saw that all of the members, plus the yearbook and Oracle photographers, were either in the darkroom or the main room. Their faces registered their shock.

  Canisters of film were ripped open and scattered everywhere. Equipment was overturned, and the floor was littered with torn and trampled photographs. Elizabeth bit her lip to keep from crying. All their work was ruined!

  "Can I have everybody's attention?" Mr. Marks called. "I've been put in charge of getting this place back together. I know you all stopped in because you're worried about your photos, but after you've gotten your own things in order, I'd appreciate it if you'd stick around and help with the general clean-up. Jim and Allen, would you two help me determine which of the enlargers are going to need to go out for repairs?"

  "What happened, Mr. Marks?" asked Tina, stooping to pick up a handful of crumpled black-and-white prints. "Why would somebody break in to the school just to mess up the darkroom and destroy our prints?"

  "It beats me," Mr. Marks admitted. "The police looked around pretty carefully, but from what I heard, they didn't come up with any significant leads."

  Jim frowned. "Do you think someone was trying to sabotage our photo-essay project?"

  "It doesn't seem likely." Mr. Marks gazed around the room, and his eyes came to rest on the row of cubbies where the students stored their photos. "If you ask me, it looks as if the vandals were looking for something in particular. See the way all the folders were emptied out?" Mr. Marks shook his head. "Whatever the motive, it's going to be awhile before everything is in working order again."

  Elizabeth crossed the room to the cubbies. Was it her imagination, or did her cubby look as if it had been disturbed more than the others?

  The photographs she had taken of Sweet Valley High
teachers had been tossed back into the cubby, but the pictures Elizabeth had shot earlier that week at the beach were flung around at random. The plastic sleeves containing her negatives were also torn and scattered.

  As she bent to retrieve some of the negatives, a sick feeling grew in the pit of Elizabeth's stomach. Mr. Marks suspected that the vandals had been looking for something in particular, and Elizabeth had a terrible hunch that she knew what that something was.

  The photograph, she thought. The one of the three men on the beach.

  But how had they known to look for it at the Sweet Valley High photography club? How had they tracked her down? A wave of fear washed over Elizabeth. If it really had been the bald man and his friends who had broken in to search for her photograph, then they knew who she was. They knew where to find her.

  Was it because of me that all this damage was done? Elizabeth thought, looking around the room with remorse. Of course she couldn't know for certain. But there was one thing Elizabeth was sure of. If the vandals were looking for her picture of the Ron Hunter look-alike and the other two men, then they had gone away unsatisfied. She had been carrying the print and the negative in her purse all along.

  Elizabeth returned the crumpled beach pictures to her cubby. Realizing that her hands were shaking, she squeezed them into fists. The feeling was stronger than ever. There was something wrong, terribly wrong. And she was sure that the picture of the three men on the beach was the key.

  And now that the darkroom was out of service, she wouldn't be able to use it to enlarge the photograph and read the lettering on the blond man's T-shirt. She and Todd would just have to find another way, because finding out about the three mysterious men on the beach was now more urgent than ever.

  When Jim had asked Shelley at lunch if they would be meeting as usual that afternoon, she had gotten a little huffy. "I'm always done with basketball first, and I'm sick of stopping by the darkroom and being treated like some kind of spy!" she had declared.

  "Then let's meet at the Dairi Burger later," he had suggested. "Around four-thirty. That should give me enough time to check out the darkroom situation. Is it a date?"