041 Something to Hide (13 page)

Authors: Carolyn Keene

Tags: #Mobilism

BOOK: 041 Something to Hide

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“So you decided to wake up,” he said with a nasty chuckle. “That’s nice. Now you can hear what I’ve planned for Nancy Drew, famous girl detective.”

The haze was clearing from her head now. We’re in the gardening shed, Nancy thought. That much I remember.

Looking down, she saw that she was propped up in a chair. Brad must have dragged her there—before he bound her wrists and ankles in front of her.

“What is it you’ve planned?” Nancy asked. Though her heart was pounding, she forced her voice to stay calm. The longer she could keep Brad talking, the better her chances of getting away.

Nancy realized with relief that Brad had turned on the overhead light. The darkness would have been to his advantage, since Nancy was unfamiliar with the inside of the shed. But now she could see—and her eyes were searching for anything that would help her get out.

Brad was between Nancy and the door. She’d have to distract him.

But what was he doing now?

Flashing her another evil smile, he picked up a hose with a funnel-shaped nozzle from the floor. He fitted the hose onto a large metal cylinder and walked slowly toward her, dragging the cylinder behind him.

“You’re going to die, Nancy Drew,” he said with a smile.

Nancy forced herself to remain calm. Brad had made mistakes before. If she could trick him into another one, she’d have a chance. “You’ll never get away with this,” she said in a reasonable voice.

“Oh, yes, I will, and everyone will think it was an accident.”

Nancy raised one eyebrow. “An accident when my hands and feet are tied? The police will never believe that!”

“Oh, they will when I get done.” Brad gestured toward the cylinder. “This is a fogger, the kind we use to kill pests on roses. It kills other pests, too.” He chuckled, obviously amused by his own wit.

“First, I’m going to give you just enough to make you unconscious. Then I’ll wait until you’re out and give you the rest. When the police arrive, it’ll be too late. River Heights’s prize snoop will be gone.”

Stall, Nancy told herself. The longer you can keep him talking, the better.

“You’ve thought this all out, haven’t you?” she asked, trying to make her voice sound admiring. “Why did you poison the Spotless samples in the first place?”

“Easy.” Brad opened one of the drawers on the workbench and pulled out a gas mask. “I had to do something to get Justin out of the marketing program. If he was suspected of sabotaging the samples, Emerson would expel him. Then he’d be sure not to get that job at Premier.”

“Is the job that important to you?”

The light glinted off Brad’s glasses. “I’ve got to be the best—understand? Heather wasn’t
much competition, but Justin just wouldn’t give up.” He shook his head in disbelief.

“Very clever,” Nancy said dryly. “But I still don’t understand why you poisoned Marcia.”

Brad started to slip the gas mask over his face, then paused. “Marcia was too nosy for her own good. We went out for a while. Did you know that?” He smiled smugly. “She broke up with me because she said I was obsessed with getting ahead. Can you imagine breaking up with someone because he was too ambitious?

“She wouldn’t stop nagging me,” he went on. “She saw the arsenic in my car the night we were all at Heather’s—and she threatened to tell everyone I was poisoning the samples.”

So that was the explanation for Marcia’s phone call.

“I would have been expelled for that,” Brad continued. “So naturally I couldn’t let her get away with it. I followed her home that day at lunch. It was so easy.”

There was no mistaking the gloat in his voice.

“I told her I had stolen the questionnaires. When she went out to check on them, I just slipped a little arsenic into her soda.”

“But you miscalculated,” Nancy said. “She didn’t die.”

Brad stared at her. “I never meant to kill Marcia! All I wanted to do was make her sick
enough so that she’d know I was serious. Then she’d keep her mouth shut!”

For the first time his words gave Nancy a glimmer of hope. “You don’t really want to kill me, either, then?” she asked.

“No, I don’t.” Brad frowned. “All I want is that job at Premier. But you’re not as easy to scare as Marcia,” he said crossly. “I tried to frighten you with the poisoned sample and the threatening note. Those didn’t work.” He pulled the cylinder closer. “I kept telling you that Justin was the poisoner, but you refused to believe me. Sorry, Nancy,” he said sadly. “I have no choice. You’ve got to die.”

He reached for the gas mask again. It was now or never.

Nancy flung herself forward. Using her head as a battering ram, she crashed into Brad and knocked him to the ground. She heard a groan —and then there was silence.

He’s only stunned, Nancy reminded herself, but it will give me a few seconds to get out of the shed.

Struggling desperately against the wire that bound her feet and hands, Nancy tried to stand. It was no use. Until she could free her feet, she wouldn’t be able to get off the floor.

How far am I from the workbench? She thought frantically. There has to be some kind of knife or clippers there.

Nancy rolled over and over, wincing in agony as the wires cut into her wrists and ankles.

One more turn, and I’ll be there!

Then she’d reached it. Nancy rolled onto her side and raised herself up on her elbow. With painful slowness she worked the bottom drawer open and felt feverishly inside it.

A roll of plant wire. A trowel. A gardening fork. The clippers. Nancy pulled them out with the tips of her fingers.

“Oh, no, you don’t!” Brad loomed over her now.

He grabbed her by the shoulder and yanked her away from the workbench. As he did, the clippers flew out of her hands.

“You’re not getting away!” Brad yelled furiously. “That job is mine. You can’t stop me!”

Brad had to bend down to pull Nancy away from the workbench—and that was his undoing.

Nancy brought her knees to her chest, kicked out with all her might—and sent Brad sprawling.

Before he could rise to his feet again, she clasped her bound hands together and slammed them into his throat.

Then, at last, she knew he’d be no more trouble.

Gasping with relief, Nancy began to lurch
toward the clippers again. At that moment she heard Ned’s voice.

“Nancy! Nancy! Where are you?”

She heard footsteps racing across the gravel toward the lighted shed—and in a moment Ned was kneeling at her side.

“Are you okay?” he gasped.

Nancy nodded and smiled shakily. “I’ll feel better when Brad’s in police custody, though. And when I can walk again.”

She gestured to the clippers, which had landed on the other side of the shed. Ned grabbed them and cut the wires around her feet and hands.

“Better tie Brad up,” Nancy said as she rubbed her wrists to get the circulation back.

Ned obliged, rolling Brad’s limp form over to tie his hands behind him.

Then he drew Nancy into his arms. “I was so worried,” he said huskily. “I had no idea where he’d taken you! I tried his house, but he wasn’t there. If I hadn’t gotten here in time—”

“But you did.” Nancy kissed him. Then she looked down at his costume and grinned. “I was never so glad to see a cowardly lion.”

• • •

After Nancy and Ned had answered Chief McGinnis’s questions, and Brad was safely locked up, they drove back to Justin’s house. The party had broken up long ago—but
Heather, Justin, Bess, and George were still there, waiting anxiously.

Bess hurled herself at Nancy. “Where were you?” she cried. “We were so worried! And what happened to you? You look awful!”

Nancy glanced down at herself. The Scarecrow costume was definitely looking more raggedy than it had when it came out of the box.

“We wanted to help,” George chimed in, “but we didn’t know where you’d gone. You and Ned just disappeared!”

“Well, we’ve been all over the place,” Nancy said. She told them all what had happened to her in the past few hours.

When she had finished, Justin’s face was white. “I was afraid of something like this,” he said. “But I just couldn’t make myself believe Brad would do something so horrible to Marcia!”

“What made you think Brad was lying?” Ned asked him.

“Remember how the police asked each of us where we were when Marcia was poisoned?” Justin said. “Brad claimed he’d been shopping in the mall, but I knew he hadn’t been. When I came back to the mall after I left you two at the Mexican restaurant, I saw Brad’s car pulling into the parking lot. I knew he’d gone somewhere.”

“But why didn’t you tell us?” Nancy asked.

Justin’s expression was a little sheepish. “It looked like everyone already suspected me. You knew I’d worked for Asco—and you all seemed to think that was some kind of crime. I figured no one would believe me unless someone else could back me up. They’d think I was just trying to shift the blame.”

She smiled ruefully at Justin. “I did suspect you,” she said. “I tried to find out whether you were still working for Asco, but your personnel files had disappeared. That seemed awfully suspicious—like some kind of cover-up.”

Justin looked puzzled. “Asco’s got my file. They called me today to ask if I wanted to work during semester break.”

“Well, that’s another mystery solved,” Nancy said lightly. “The file wasn’t hidden. It was just sitting on someone’s desk!”

There was only one more question. Nancy looked at Justin and Heather in turn. “Did you two follow us after the Last Night concert?” she asked.

“I did,” Justin admitted. “I wanted to hear what you were saying. I had to know if I was still a suspect. I hope you’ll understand—”

Just then the phone rang. Justin picked it up, listened for a second, and handed it to Nancy. “It’s for you,” he said.

Nancy picked up the receiver. “Hello?” she
asked. “Oh, that’s great! I’ll tell everyone right now. Thanks so much for calling.”

She was beaming when she hung up. “Fantastic news! That was Chief McGinnis. He just called the hospital, and Marcia’s out of her coma. She’s going to be all right!”

Everyone cheered.

“I guess everything worked out,” Heather said pensively when the general rejoicing had died down. “Now that Brad and I are out of the program, Justin will get the job with Premier. And everyone will live happily ever after.”

“Are you really quitting?” George asked, and suddenly Nancy remembered Heather’s mysterious trip to Chicago.

“You bet.” Heather grinned. “That’s what Justin and I were arguing about that day in the mall. He really wanted me to stay in the program. He said I couldn’t give it up. I told him I wouldn’t stay in, no matter what he said. I even told the agency in person when I was in Chicago. The second the words were out of my mouth I knew I’d done the right thing.”

The final pieces of the puzzle had fallen into place.

“Anyway,” Heather continued, “now Justin’s sure to get the job.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be too sure of that,” Nancy joked. “I’ve been thinking about signing up for
the marketing program myself. I’d kind of like to give Justin a run for his money.”

Ned pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. “You’d better not,” he said tenderly. “Haven’t you noticed? There’s only one thing more dangerous than being a detective—being in marketing.”

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.