They walked on the pier back to the beach, where Nancy spread her towel on the sand and lay back to let the sun warm her. Ned found his towel and joined her.
“What happened out there?” he asked in a quiet voice. There were lots of people around but none close enough to overhear.
Nancy drew in a deep breath—even now, she felt she needed extra air. “All I know is that someone must have been right behind me when I dove in. Before I could break the surface, he’d grabbed my ankles and pulled me down to the bottom.”
“You didn’t see anything?”
She shook her head. “Too murky. What about you—how did you happen to rescue me?”
Ned touched the back of her neck in a tender gesture. “I got to the lake in time to see you go in, and when you didn’t come up when you should have, I got worried. There was no one behind you, Nan. He must have been waiting just under the surface.”
“You didn’t see him when you were down there, either?” Nancy asked.
“Only a flutter of legs and churning water as he swam away. Whoever it was probably had decided to let you go just then. After all, he had to be needing air as much as you.”
Nancy nodded her agreement. She’d had a good scare, but now she began to think the incident might have only been a warning. She let out a long breath. “I suppose it was the same person who left the message on the answering machine.”
Ned cupped his hand under Nancy’s chin. “What message?” he asked, frowning.
Nancy told him about the telephone threat.
“The voice wasn’t at all familiar? Was it male? Female?”
Nancy sighed. “I couldn’t tell—it sounded mechanical. It could have been a woman, I guess. It was pretty distorted.”
“This is getting really nasty,” Ned said.
Nancy agreed But for Laurie’s sake, as well as her own, she had to find out what was happening and who was behind it all.
“You’ll be careful, won’t you, Nan?” Ned asked, his eyes troubled. “I suppose you wouldn’t give up the case—even if I said ‘pretty please.’ ”
Nancy smiled. “I’ll be very careful” was all she’d promise. She was already planning the next phase of her investigation.
Several hours later, after telling Ned she was going home to rest, Nancy showered and changed into dressy black pants, a tuxedo-style white shirt, and wide dark green belt. She looked up the number of Moves and dialed it from the phone in her bedroom after her hair was done. She and George and Bess had cooked up a plan on their way home from the lake.
“Moves,” a masculine voice answered. “This is Jon.”
“Jon, this is Nancy—Nancy Drew.”
He sounded surprised. “Nancy, hi. What can I do for you?”
“The other night at dinner, you mentioned you were shorthanded at the club,” she said.
“I could use a few more waitresses,” he agreed. Now there was real curiosity in his voice. “Why?”
Nancy turned the phone cord around her index finger, “I’m looking for a job, Jon. How about giving me a chance to wait tables at Moves?”
He was silent. Nancy jumped in again before Jon could draw too many conclusions. “I want to buy my dad a birthday present,” she said in an earnest voice. “And it’s important to me to use my own money.”
“Have you had any experience?” Jon wanted to know.
Nancy rolled her eyes, but her voice held a sweet note. “Of course I have,” she said.
Jon hesitated for a second, then said, “Okay, Nancy. Come in tonight at seven. Pam will show you the ropes.”
“Thanks, Jon,” Nancy said. “You’ve done me a bigger favor than you know, she added to herself.
Pam met Nancy just after she went through the front door of Moves that night. Although she kept giving Nancy suspicious looks, she did help her find an apron and a Moves T-shirt. She went over the menu with her until Nancy knew the prices by heart.
“I think this is crazy,” Bess whispered to Nancy when she and George came in later.
Nancy grinned at her friend, tapping her order pad with the end of her pencil. “I don’t have time to stand around chit-chatting with the customers,” she said in a mock-tough voice. “What’ll it be?”
George laughed. “You’ve got this waitress act down,” she said. “I’ll have a cola.”
“Me, too,” Bess said, getting into the spirit.
Nancy was busy for the next two hours. At this rate, she thought, I’m never going to get any investigating done.
Just before her break, Brenda Carlton came in and deliberately sat in Nancy’s section of the club. “Who do you think you’re fooling with this waitress routine?” she asked.
Nancy favored her rival with a frosty smile. “.How can I help you?” she countered, ignoring Brenda’s question.
Brenda sighed. “You’re up to something,” she persisted. “What is it?”
Nancy widened her eyes. “Up to something? Why, I’m just doing my job, Brenda.”
“Oh, brother,” said Brenda, turning away.
Nancy smiled to herself and headed into the kitchen to take a break. The cooks were trying frantically to keep up with the orders.
“Have you worked here since the club opened?” Nancy asked one of the women, who was busy at the grill.
She didn’t spare Nancy so much as a glance, though her voice wasn’t unfriendly. “Yes,” she said. “And there’s been a time or two when I wished I hadn’t even seen that ad in the paper.”
“How well do you know our boss—Mr. Villiers?”
The woman looked Nancy over. She must have decided to trust her, for she answered, “I know he’s young, and that he doesn’t have much experience running a club.”
Nancy didn’t comment right then, since Pam showed up to leave a new order and pick up several others.
“I hear Jon’s from Chicago,” Nancy ventured when she and the grill girl were alone again.
The woman nodded. “I think so. He’s got an uncle from there who comes to see him sometimes. They argue a lot, but I guess that’s the way with family.”
Nancy glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. Her break had passed too quickly, but it hadn’t been a waste of time. Could Jon’s uncle be the man he’d been sending those big checks to, in Chicago? “Thanks for the company,” she said, climbing down off the stool.
The cook smiled at her and nodded.
As Nancy left the kitchen, she practically collided with Adam Boyd. He took in her apron and T-shirt and acted annoyed.
“I heard you were working here,” he said, his brow crinkled in a frown. “You wouldn’t be here on a case, would you?”
Nancy knew he wouldn’t believe her answer, but she wasn’t about to admit that she was checking on Jon Villiers. “No,” she answered. “I just want to pick up some extra cash.”
Adam looked skeptical. “You? Why?”
“My dad’s birthday is coming up,” Nancy replied, making her way around him.
Nancy had been back at work for about half an hour when Laurie arrived and went immediately to the sound booth to talk with Jon, who took a break then. Jon and Laurie went out on the floor and danced, holding each other close, their gazes locked.
Nancy was caught by surprise when Jon and Laurie moved directly toward her. Laurie’s arm was linked with Jon’s, but her eyes were fixed on Nancy. She looked angry.
“You’re working here?” she yelled, over the noise of the crowd, her gaze shifting from Nancy . to Jon.
“She started tonight,” Jon answered, looking pleased. Apparently he hadn’t noticed how annoyed Laurie was.
Laurie’s grip on Jon’s arm tightened. She gave Nancy a cold look. Laurie knew Nancy was there to snoop and Laurie had asked Nancy to stop. Nancy watched her drag Jon off in the direction of his office.
It looked as if Nancy’s days on the case were numbered.
Chapter
Seven
NANCY WAITED, expecting the ax to fall at any moment. Laurie would surel
y tell Jon about Nancy’s reputation as an amateur detective. He would guess then why she’d wanted to work at Moves and fire her immediately.
But nothing happened. Jon came out of his office and went back to the sound booth without even glancing at Nancy.
Nancy didn’t have time to think about what might be going on. The club was crowded, and she had to work hard until quitting time. Bess and George were waiting to ride home with her, and she told them about Laurie’s reaction to seeing her working at the club.
“She’s probably going to blow your cover,” Bess said.
“Maybe not,” George argued. “After all, if she was going to tell Jon about you, wouldn’t she have done it by now?”
Nancy hoped George was right.
• • •
The next morning Nancy called Laurie at home. Mrs. Weaver answered and said her daughter had already left the house to meet a friend.
“Will you ask her to call me when she gets back, please?” Nancy asked.
After thanking Mrs. Weaver and hanging up, Nancy took her shower and dressed. As she was eating breakfast, the telephone rang. Nancy reached for it eagerly, hoping the caller was Laurie.
The voice on the other end of the line belonged to Ned. “Hello, Drew,” he said. “How are you?”
Nancy answered with a smile in her words. “Well, nobody’s tried to kill me today, if that’s what you mean.”
Ned chuckled. “And it’s almost nine-thirty. So how’s the case going? Have you found out anything new?”
“I haven’t made any earth-shattering discoveries. But I did take a job at Moves,” she admitted.
“Clever,” Ned said, laughing. “You get rid of me so you can sneak out and get a job.”
“Sorry,” Nancy answered. “But it’s really necessary for me to work there—the case is centered there. I know it. But I don’t think Laurie wants to know if Jon’s really up to something.”
“Have you talked to her?”
“I tried,” Nancy answered, “but she isn’t home. I asked Mrs. Weaver to have her call me when she gets back.”
“Maybe Laurie will keep your secret,” Ned speculated. “Maybe she figures Jon doesn’t have anything to hide.”
“I wish that were true,” Nancy said.
“How about going out to lunch with me?” Ned asked, changing the subject. “I could use a break from the insurance business.”
Nancy chuckled. “You could apply for a job at Moves,” she suggested.
“Let’s talk about it over lunch,” Ned came back good-naturedly. “I’ll pick you up in three hours.”
He arrived at Nancy’s house with a picnic basket in the back of his car. They drove to the park and spent a happy afternoon laughing and talking together. By the time Ned brought her home again, Nancy felt refreshed.
After unsuccessfully trying Laurie again, Nancy showered, changed her clothes, and drove to Moves for her six-o’clock shift. Pam Hastings met her just inside the club.
There was an unpleasant gleam in Pam’s eyes. “Jon wants to see you in his office immediately,” she said.
This is it, Nancy thought. As of right now, no more sleuthing.
When she knocked at the door of Jon’s office, it was Laurie’s voice that called out a weary “Come in.”
Nancy entered, braced for an explosion, but Jon only looked up from the stack of papers he was going through and smiled.
“I’d like you to do me a favor, if you would,” he said, handing over a set of keys.
Not knowing what else to do, Nancy accepted them. She tried to catch Laurie’s eye, but Laurie wouldn’t look at her.
Nancy turned her attention back to Jon. “What do you want me to do?”
“I’d like you to run over to my place and pick up some papers—”
“I could do that,” Laurie broke in, giving Nancy a defiant look.
“I know,” Jon said patiently. “But I have some friends coming in a few minutes, and I want you to meet them.”
Although Laurie looked reluctant, she didn’t say anything else, and Jon turned his attention back to Nancy. “I can spare you because you’re still new,” he explained. “And I really need these papers. The only time I could arrange a meeting with my accountant was after the club closes.” He paused to glance at his watch. “I live at six fourteen Sycamore Street, number forty-eight. They should be in the top drawer of my desk, in a brown mania envelope.”
Nancy’s heart was beating a touch faster than usual. Jon didn’t know it, but he was actually inviting her to search his apartment. She glanced at Laurie to see if she’d stop her.
When Laurie didn’t say anything, Nancy turned and walked out the door.
She paused in the hallway, just out of sight, and listened as Laurie said, “Why do you trust Nancy when you hardly know her?”
Nancy held her breath, waiting for the answer.
It came quickly. “I have no reason not to trust her, do I?” he asked in a. mid voice.
Laurie deliberated for what seemed an eternity to Nancy. “I guess not,” she finally said.
Nancy silently thanked her friend for not giving her away and hurried out to the parking lot. Jon could be suspicious if she was gone too long.
The building was modest and ordinary, a brick structure probably twenty or thirty years old. Nancy was a little surprised—somehow she had expected Jon to live someplace more glamorous.
Wasting no time, she took the elevator to the fourth floor, and apartment number 48, She let herself in with Jon’s key.
Nancy looked quickly around the living room, which seemed only partially furnished. There were no pictures on the walls, no books, no mementoes on the mantel above the fireplace. The couch looked as though it might have come from a cheap rental place or a thrift shop. There was nothing personal about the apartment—it might have been a shabby hotel room, rather than someone’s home.
After glancing into the kitchen, Nancy walked into Jon’s bedroom, which doubled as an office. An old easy chair, an army surplus desk, and a dented file cabinet sat clustered to one side of the room. The effect was bleak.
Nancy found Jon’s manila envelope right off. She looked inside, but as she had guessed, it contained nothing more than receipts and register tapes from Moves. She was looking for something more. She went quickly and skillfully through the other papers on the desk.
After about five minutes of methodical searching, Nancy located a half-finished letter.
Dear Uncle Mike,
Everybody reaches a place in their life where they need a second chance. If you won’t help me convince your friends to give me just a little more time, I don’t know what I’m going to do. You’re the only one I can count on.
There, the letter ended.
Nancy put it back in the exact position she’d found it and continued with her search. Her mind was trying to piece, together what she’d learned. From the tone of that letter, Nancy guessed that Jon owed some men money, and that he was afraid of what they might do if he didn’t pay them promptly.
Nancy went back to her work. In the bottom of the file cabinet, tucked away in the back, she found a package of pink envelopes that smelled vaguely of perfume.
Kneeling, Nancy removed the rubber band that bound them together and pulled out a letter.
It was a long and flowery expression of love, filled with dreams of an upcoming marriage. It was signed, “All my love forever, Sheila.”
“Sheila,” Nancy mused aloud. She hadn’t heard Jon or anyone mention that name. She skimmed a few more’ letters and noticed that there was a two-year gap between a couple of them. Apparently, there had been a lapse in Sheila’s devotion.
The telephone rang, startling Nancy. She put the letters back in their hiding place, in the same order, wrapped in the same rubber band. Before she could decide whether or not to answer the phone, the ringing stopped. An answering machine had come on, and Jon’s recorded voice filled the room.
There was a beep before she heard him say, “Na
ncy? If you’re still there, will you please get on the phone?”
Nancy drew a deep breath and reached out for the receiver. “Hello, Jon,” she said, trying to keep her voice light. Inside, she felt shaken as though she’d been caught.
“Hi,” Jon said. He didn’t sound angry or even the least bit suspicious. “Did you find the papers?”
“Yes,” Nancy managed to answer. Her heart was pounding. Even though Jon couldn’t see her, she felt as though she’d been caught. “I’ll be right back. I was just heading out the door.”
She waited for him to say that the errand seemed to be taking a long time. Instead, he said, “Good. It’s starting to get busy and the other waitresses are complaining.”
“I’ll hurry,” Nancy promised. She hung up, grabbed the papers, and left.
When Nancy reached Moves, things were already jumping. The music was wild and loud, and the dance floor was filling up.
Jon’s backup deejay was in the sound booth, so Nancy went back to Jon’s office, the envelope under her arm. She rapped lightly at the door.
“Come in,” she heard a weary, discouraged voice say.
Nancy stepped inside to find Jon sitting behind his desk. There was no sign of Laurie. “Here are the papers you wanted,” Nancy said, laying the manila envelope and keys down in front of her boss.
Jon didn’t seem to be in any particular hurry to open the envelope. He just looked at it dully.
“Thanks,” he said with a long sigh.
“I’d better get to work,” Nancy replied.
Jon only nodded, staring off into space. He looked worried, but that was no surprise to Nancy, considering what she’d learned from that partially finished letter he’d written to an uncle. He owed money to the wrong people, and he didn’t know how he was going to pay.
Nancy waited tables until the club closed. Then, as she was leaving, she decided to ask George and Bess to meet her back at her house, to get their advice about the case. Nancy knew Ned had to work the next day and didn’t bother him. For once, Nancy seemed to have too many clues and not enough theories.
• • •
“Well, I’ve had a productive evening,” she told her two friends after they were settled in with a late-night snack of soft drinks and pizza. She told them about the errand she had had to run for Jon.
037 Last Dance Page 4
