Hotline to Danger

by Carolyn Keene

  B.D. raised one brow. “Perhaps you’d better accompany me outside. I’d be interested to hear if there’s anything else you forgot to mention.” Reaching down, he picked the evidence bag off the bed. A couple of bills that had slipped from the envelope inside showed through the plastic.

  Nancy saw Mrs. Thackett’s gaze dart to it. A glimmer of alarm showed in the woman’s eyes, then just as quickly disappeared.

  “So are you any closer to capturing the murderer?” Mrs. Thackett asked B.D. as he escorted her from the room.

  “Before you go, Mrs. Thackett,” Nancy said quickly, “do you have a picture of Rachel? I’d like to have one to show around.”

  Again, tears filled the older woman’s eyes. “Of course.” She reached in her handbag for her wallet, then gave Nancy what looked like a photo from a high school yearbook. “She graduated last spring. Straight A student, chorus, band, debate team, voted Most Likely to Succeed. And here she is nine months later, hiding out like a criminal!”

  B.D. murmured soothingly, then put his hand under Mrs. Thackett’s elbow and escorted her from the room. When the two left, Mr. A made a disgusted noise in his throat.

  “With a mother like that, no wonder Rachel ran away,” he said. “She’s a cross between a strutting peacock and a man-eating barracuda.”

  Nancy laughed at the director’s description. Then she looked down at the photo. Rachel had thick, wavy red hair, laughing green eyes, and a cheerleader smile. “This should help us find her,” she said. “Maybe we can get some copies made and pass them around.”

  “Good idea.” The director sighed. “Things are complicated enough at the center without a murder and a disappearance. I still have a group of teens downstairs waiting to learn how to write résumés and go on job interviews.”

  As Nancy followed him out the door, his shoulders slumped. “And I’ll teach them how to make a good impression, only you know what?”

  He stopped on the top step and looked at Nancy. “There aren’t any jobs out there for high school dropouts with no skills. I tell the kids to stay in school, but do they listen?” Anger flared in his eyes. “No.”

  Nancy nodded sympathetically. She knew the director must be under a lot of stress. Even though the center had a board of directors, he was solely responsible for running it.

  “Let me know if there’s anything I can do,” she offered as they went down to the second floor.

  Turning, he patted her hand. “Keep looking for Rachel. That will help.”

  “Okay.” Nancy paused outside the door of the hotline office while he continued down the steps to the first floor. For a second, she leaned over the banister. She watched him walk down the steps and disappear. A moment later she caught a glimpse of someone walking in the direction of the front door. Nancy recognized the thick brown hair pulled back in a ponytail.

  It was Billie Peters.

  Nancy took a deep breath. She had lots of questions to ask Billie, and this time she wasn’t going to lose her.

  Nancy raced down the stairs. Billie was standing at the open front door, looking at something. She didn’t see Nancy come up to her.

  “Billie,” Nancy said in a firm voice. Taking hold of the girl’s lower arm, she pulled her away from the door.

  Billie’s eyes widened when she saw who it was. “Take your hands off me!” she demanded, chopping at Nancy’s fingers. But Nancy was ready. With a quick twist, she yanked Billie’s arm behind her back.

  “Look, I don’t want to hurt you, but I also don’t want you running away before you answer some questions,” Nancy said quietly. “It’s important that we find Rachel. Her life may be in danger!”

  Billie stopped struggling.

  “Hey, Peters, you okay?” Two teenage boys had come from the rec room and were watching Billie and Nancy with narrowed eyes.

  Billie nodded. “I’m all right. Thanks anyway, guys. I’ll be ready to start that pool game in a second.”

  Reluctantly, the two shuffled back into the rec room.

  Billie must have come into the center, Nancy thought, while she was on the third floor. She let go of Billie’s arm.

  “Will you talk to me?” she asked again.

  Billie nodded. Rubbing her wrist, she looked at Nancy with new respect. “You’ve got some pretty good moves.”

  Nancy laughed, then grew serious. “The police think that Rachel witnessed the murder. We’re afraid the killer may be after her. Do you have any idea where she might be hiding?”

  Billie shook her head. “No. If I did, I’d tell you, ’cause then Rachel could tell the cops that Kip DiFranco had nothing to do with Paul’s murder.”

  “How do you know he wasn’t involved?” Nancy asked.

  “I just do. And that’s all I’m going to say. There’s no way I’m going to tell you or anyone else where Kip is. The cops can lock me up for all I care!”

  “Look, Billie, if Kip is innocent, it would be best if he talked to the police.”

  Throwing back her head, Billie laughed hysterically. “Oh, that’s a good one. Ever since Kip skated from that burglary rap, the cops have been dying to find something to pin on him.” Her expression hardened. “And they’d just love to get him for murder. Only I know he didn’t do it.”

  She pushed Nancy toward the open doorway and pointed. B.D. was standing beside a blue sedan, talking to Mrs. Thackett. As they watched, B.D. opened the car door for the woman. “That lady is the one the police should arrest,” Billie said in a low voice. “Mrs. High Society La-de-da Thackett murdered Paul Remer!”

  Chapter

  Eight

  RACHEL’S MOM KILLED PAUL?” Nancy asked in an incredulous voice.

  “Yup.” Billie replied.

  In silence the two stood in the doorway of the center and watched Mrs. Thackett’s sedan pull away from the curb with B.D.’s car following it. Then Nancy turned and looked at Billie.

  “How do you know?”

  “Because Sunday night, the day before Paul was murdered, I overheard her tell Rachel that if she ever saw Rachel and Paul together, she’d kill him.”

  Nancy sucked in her breath. Billie nodded knowingly. “They were in the living room of the apartment.”

  “Wait a minute. Mrs. Thackett knew Rachel was staying with you?”

  “Uh-huh,” Billie replied, a sarcastic smile curling her lips. “I bet she told you and the cops she’d never seen Rachel since her precious daughter left home.”

  “You got it.” Nancy ran her fingers through her hair. Her mind was going a mile a minute. If Billie was telling the truth, Mrs. Thackett had lied to the police—but why?

  Nancy looked over at Billie. “Why don’t I buy you a soda, and you can tell me the whole story?”

  “I don’t know. I promised I’d play pool with those guys you saw. Besides”—Billie began frowning suspiciously—“do you believe me or are you playing cop—you know, acting real nice just so you can get information out of me?”

  “I’m definitely not playing cop, Billie, but right now I’m pretty confused,” Nancy said. “You just told me some heavy stuff.”

  “True.” Billie started toward the rec room. “Okay. I’ll tell you what I know.”

  Nancy followed, stopping at the machine to buy two sodas. Then she went over to where Billie was sitting on one of the sofas, nonchalantly leafing through a magazine. The two teenage boys had started playing pool. A few girls were clustered around the TV.

  Nancy handed Billie a soda, then sat down next to her. “So when exactly did Mrs. Thackett come to the apartment?” she asked as she pulled the tab on her can.

  “It was a little after four in the afternoon. I remember because I was about to leave for my shift at the restaurant. I was changing in the bedroom, so they didn’t know I was listening.”

  “How did she find out where Rachel was?”

  Billie shrugged, then took a swig of soda. “I don’t know, but that woman wanted Rachel to come home so badly, I think she would’ve tracked her to the moon. I
mean, first she started out nice. You know, ‘Please come home, dear. I’m so lonely without you.’ But when Rachel said she wanted to be on her own for a while, well, old mom turned ugly real quick. ‘You’d better come home or I’ll never speak to you again, and you won’t get a cent of my money! You’ll have to live in a dump like this for the rest of your life!’ ”

  Billie snorted. “That witch. Can you imagine calling my place a dump?”

  Nancy started to nod, then quickly shook her head. “So what did Rachel do?”

  “She stood up to Mrs. Thackett. She told her that she liked the ‘dump’ because at least there she was free to make her own decisions. Said she was sick and tired of having her mom run her life. Well, you can imagine how Mrs. Thackett liked that.” Billie chuckled. “I could practically feel the anger explode through the walls.”

  “I can imagine.” Nancy remembered how Mrs. Thackett had yelled at both B.D. and Mr. A. “It sounds like she really hated Paul.”

  “That’s for sure. She said everything was his fault—even though Rachel had only met him recently. He had nothing to do with her moving out. She had already left home when she met him, and he was just trying to help her. Anyway, I guess Mrs. Thackett thought Rachel would have moved back home if she hadn’t met Paul. So she told Rachel if she saw them together again, she’d kill him.”

  “Hmmm.” Nancy sat back and, slowly sipping her soda, thought about all that Billie had told her. It sounded like the truth. Mrs. Thackett and Rachel probably did have an argument. But what if Billy was exaggerating to throw suspicion off Kip?

  There was obviously something going on between Billie and Kip. But Billie had been adamant about not saying anything more about the gang leader, and Nancy didn’t want to lose her trust by asking.

  “I can see you don’t believe me,” Billy said, breaking into Nancy’s thoughts.

  “Hmmm?” Nancy swung her head around. “Oh, no. I’m just trying to fit the pieces together. Somehow I can’t imagine Mrs. Thackett stabbing Paul. And how would she have known about the N for the Nighthawks?”

  Billie frowned. “Good point.” For a second, she was silent. Then she took a deep breath and turned toward Nancy. “Look, Drew. The reason why I know Kip DiFranco didn’t kill Paul is because I was with him all night.”

  Nancy must have looked startled because Billie quickly added, “I worked the afternoon shift on Monday, then spent the evening with Kip at his apartment.”

  “Why didn’t you tell the police?”

  Her face flushed. “Because they wouldn’t believe me or Kip, that’s why.” She jumped up. “You don’t know what the cops can be like.”

  Nancy straightened. “But B.D. is different.”

  “Ha! I’ll just bet he is.” Bending down, she looked Nancy in the eye. “And don’t you go running to him, either.” Spinning on her heels, Billie stomped over to the pool table and grabbed a pool cue.

  “Will you let me know if you hear from Rachel?” Nancy called to her.

  Ignoring her, Billie bent over the table. “Red ball in the corner pocket,” she said, setting up her shot.

  Nancy stood up, realizing that this was Billie’s way of ending the conversation. Slowly, Nancy sauntered into the hall, wondering what she should do with her new information. Since she wasn’t sure Billie was telling the truth, she hated to tell B.D. Still, she felt a responsibility to let him know.

  Just then George and Tony walked into the center.

  “Hey, Nan,” George greeted her. “You look like you’ve had a tough afternoon. You should have had lunch with us at the Riverside.”

  “Really,” Tony said. “We all had the buffet—shrimp, crab legs, oysters, fried clams.”

  “Gee, thanks for telling me,” Nancy said. “I had cheese and crackers out of the vending machine.”

  Tony and George laughed. Then Tony put one arm around Nancy’s shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “We didn’t even tell you the best part. Kyle paid for it—to celebrate his acceptance to law school. The guy’s not so bad after all.”

  “How is Bess taking it?” Nancy asked.

  George shook her head. “Not very well. To make things worse, Kyle may leave this week. He’s had a job offer from a California law firm. Your dad recommended him, and from the way Kyle talked, I’d say he wants to take it. He’d be doing the same kind of work that he does for your dad, but it would be for a big, prestigious firm.”

  “Kyle is ambitious,” Nancy said.

  “Right. Plus the company’s even offering to pay some of his tuition. Anyway, your dad gave Kyle the afternoon off, so I think he and Bess are finally going to sit down and talk about what’s going to happen when he leaves.”

  “My hunch is Bess will be okay,” Tony said, starting up the stairs. “Well, I’ve got a group this afternoon, and I’ve got to check that my afternoon-shift volunteers will be here. Nancy, you’ll have to fill me in later on what’s going on with the case.”

  “One question before you go. Do you know where Billie works?”

  Tony thought for a second. “Yeah, she’s a waitress at Ernie’s Grill on Main and Thirteenth. Why?”

  “I’ll let you know later.” Nancy waved, then started for the pay phone in the rec room. “And I’ll fill you in, too, George, but first I need to call B.D. He should be at the police station by now, and I think he might find my latest news very interesting.”

  When she finally reached the detective, she told him all about Billie’s accusation. By the time Nancy had hung up, George’s mouth was hanging open. She’d listened to every word.

  “You mean Rachel’s mom might be a suspect?”

  “I’ll tell you in the car,” Nancy said. Several kids had come into the center, and Nancy didn’t want to broadcast the news.

  When they got outside, Nancy headed straight for the Mustang.

  “Why do I get the feeling we’re going to track down a lead?” George asked, jogging to keep up with her friend.

  “Because we are.” When they got in the car, Nancy told George about finding the money, Mrs. Thackett’s coming to the center, and her conversation with Billie.

  George settled her long, athletic frame into the passenger seat. “Wow. What did B.D. think?”

  “He was talking to Mrs. Thackett when I called. She claims she was at a benefit for the community theater on Monday night when Paul was killed. He’s going to have a man check it out. And he said he’d ask her about the fight she and Rachel had had at Billie’s apartment. But from the tone of his voice, I can tell he’s still convinced the Nighthawks are the culprits.”

  After starting the car, she pulled out onto Main Street. “Several store owners on Fourteenth and Main Street can place Kip in the area before the shops closed. In fact, one witness says she saw Kip and Paul together—and they were arguing.”

  George grimaced. “Ooh. That doesn’t sound good. But what did B.D. say when you told him Billie said she was with Kip all night?”

  “B.D. figures she’s trying to cover for him. And he may be right. When Billie caught us in the apartment, she told us that she’d just gotten off work.”

  George nodded. “That’s right. So you think she just changed her story to help Kip?”

  “Maybe. But there’s one way to find out.” Nancy headed down Main Street. “Since Billie’s hanging out at the center, I think it’ll be safe to do a little detecting.”

  Fifteen minutes later Nancy and George were seated at a table at Ernie’s Grill. The place was clean and neat with red-and-white checkered tablecloths. Since it was midafternoon, there weren’t any other diners. But from the back room, Nancy heard laughter and the sounds of people playing pool.

  “I just ate like a horse at the Riverside, but Ernie’s meatball sub sounds pretty good,” George said as she scanned the plastic-coated menu.

  “What can I get you ladies?” the waitress asked when she came up to the table. She was in her fifties. Her graying hair was pulled into a bun and she wore a checkered apron that matched the tab
lecloth.

  “I’m Lil,” she said. “And don’t order the chili unless you like your food red-hot.”

  “I’ll have iced tea and the Ernie Burger,” Nancy said, putting down her menu.

  “And I’ll take the meatball sub.” George grinned. “With mozzarella and green peppers.”

  When Lil left, George leaned closer to Nancy. “So what do we do now? Ask Ernie if Billie worked here Monday night?”

  Nancy looked around. “I don’t even know if there is an Ernie.”

  “Sure there is. He’s in the back adding gallons of hot sauce to the chili.”

  Nancy started to laugh but then put a finger to her lips. “Here comes Lil. Let me do the talking.” She waited until the waitress had set the drinks on the table, then said, “My friend and I were in here Monday night, late—between ten and midnight—and I left my jacket in the booth.”

  “Uh-huh,” Lil said in a bored voice.

  “I thought maybe our waitress might have picked it up. I think her name was Billie.”

  Lil tapped her lips with her pencil, stuck out one hip, and thought a second. “Yeah. Billie was working late last night. But she didn’t say anything about picking up a jacket. Sorry.”

  “Did you hear that?” George whispered when Lil left. “Billie was working the night Paul was murdered.”

  “Right.” Nancy nodded excitedly. “And if she’s lying to protect Kip, that means he must have something to hide—like the murder of Paul Remer!”

  Chapter

  Nine

  MAYBE BILLIE LIED about the argument between Rachel and Mrs. Thackett, too,” Nancy said to George.

  “Wow. Maybe Billie will do anything to protect Kip,” George replied.

  Just then Lil brought their orders. Nancy’s stomach began to growl when she saw the juicy Ernie Burger. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was.

  When Lil left, George asked, “What are we going to do now?”